#Catalyst Development Partners

[opalsiren]

an entirely exhaustive list of all the times rikki and zane help or 'save' each other:

in 1x10 'the camera never lies' rikki saves zane from getting eaten alive by sharks. later, she tells him he was brave for trying to beat his father's record surfing around mako when she sees that he's upset, to which he replies 'you're the only one who thinks so'

in 1x18 'bad moon rising' zane finds rikki having a full-blown breakdown on mako island after setting the place on fire, consoling her and telling her he understands her feelings of loneliness and isolation and maybe she sets him on fire after but it's cool it's chill

in 1x20 'hook, line and sinker,' zane offers rikki food when she says the restaurant she planned to visit is full. when they get trapped on a balcony together, she is able to calm him down and assuage his fear of heights almost immediately. she shares her past trauma with her family, zane empathises and assures her that money isn't everything, later helping her shelter from the rain when he thinks she's scared. his father insulting rikki prompts him to call harrison out for his abuse and neglect seemingly for the first time ever, perhaps spurred on by rikki's kindness and understanding

in 1x22 'fish out of water' rikki helps zane to stand up to his father and calls harrison out at an important luncheon with prospective investors. she affirms the value of zane's beliefs and encourages him to think for himself, leading zane to confront his father and leave the lunch with rikki

almost as soon as zane finds out rikki and the others are mermaids in 1x26 'a twist in the tail' he comes to their aid and saves them from being captured by dr. denman. this also culminates in him confronting harrison for the final time before he sees sense and starts working on his relationship with zane she's reaching your honour

in 2x03 'the one that got away' zane saves rikki from exposure when she gets splashed by nate and assures her nate didn't follow when he finds her at mako

in 2x08 'wrong side of the tracks' zane helps rikki to realise that she is worthy of love for who she is, not where she lives or how much money she has, and fixes her dad's bike which hasn't worked in months

in 2x11 'in over our heads' zane dives into the sea to save rikki after a crate falls on her head and once again helps her see that her loved ones care for her regardless of her financial situation. he also works together with lewis to find the crate again and get the reward money so rikki can afford to stay in the gold coast

in 2x18 'the heat is on' rikki stands up for zane to emma and ash after he gets kicked out of the juicenet and emma calls him a liar

in 2x24 'three's company' zane helps rikki to forget about the mermaid drama when she excludes herself from the group, tells her that she can go back to them whenever she wants, and later saves the mermaids from exposure when ash nearly catches them

anyway stan zikki for clear skin <3

#love is growth love is redemption love is your partner inspiring you to be better etc. #sometimes i think about how rikki is the catalyst for all of zane's development and how he is the same for her and i just 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 #also zane helps to her accept gifts graciously with the dress the locket and indeed her mp3 player #he also jumps into the sea after miriam tosses her locket there to find it for her... i'm soft #h2o just add water #.txt #h2o #queue #zikki #rikki chadwick #zane bennett

[ranticore]

so what exactly is a 'crawling beast of the earth' and why did harpies have to develop such extreme modifications just to defend against them?

nobody really knows what the crawling beasts are except the wyrms, and they're not telling anyone. the beasts take many forms but commonly they are eyeless and worm-like with large jaws but no mouths. they do not eat, they show no signs of intelligence, and it seems that all they do is crawl and bite. their bodies have a high heavy metal content and by their very presence they leach toxic waste into the earth around their burrows that destroys organic life. although nobody really knows what they are or where they came from, it's universally acknowledged that crawling beasts are not monsters or natural animals. monsters - not animals - are able to physically touch a crawling beast without being poisoned and you can kill one by ripping it to shreds, but the easiest way to kill one is to throw their bodies on a pyre.

in terms of behaviour they seem to show no response to injury or environmental stimulus but always crawl or burrow towards the highest concentration of large living creatures they can sense (through means unknown). if one gets within biting distance they will bite.. even if there's a layer of topsoil between you and them. they do not notice others of their own kind and can mindlessly form huge aggregations underneath villages or settlements, fouling one another until eventually the sheer volume and mass of the pile-up spills onto the surface.

the purpose of the beasties, in this setting, is to provide a common enemy that can be a catalyst for human and monster cooperation. they're kind of a macguffin that makes everything else happen, but i like them because they're undefined and terrifying for everybody. one big crawler will destroy a field of crops in one night and make the soil barren, and that can be the difference between making it through the winter and starving, in a small village. crawlers are the reason flighted harpies fear touching the ground. the whole land is infested with them (the sea, too) and their numbers are only growing.

for most harpies, attaining the size and strength (and talons) necessary to fight a crawling beast would reduce their ability to neatly and accurately forage or hunt their normal animal prey. so instead of everyone developing this weaponry, instead only one guy in a flock does, and thereafter he's the flock's bodyguard. kings suck at hunting and foraging. because even regular eagle harpies are naturally pretty big and pointy, they are the first choice for human falconers who want a partner who can swoop down, snatch up a crawling beast, and drop it on a fire. solitary monsters fare the best here since they usually don't attract any crawling beasties, except when they're pressganged by humans (or other monsters) into helping the general pest control effort.

only wyrms are known to hunt and eat crawling beasts.

#ice storm over kosa #normal earth. then one day bam here's the crawling beasts. and THEN monsters happened #more on that later

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 13

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 13/? 8.4k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ Catalyst — an agent that provokes or speeds significant change or action.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, true love, smut (18+ mdni), internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: angst, drama, implied partner abuse, harm to fantasy creature 

Monday, December 9th 1985

Eddie propped his cheek against his knuckles as he watched you from the back of the classroom, just like he did every day. You were radiant on this one, brimming with excitement as you lectured on your favorite subject.

“We’re still in the planning phase for our short stories, but now that you all have a general idea of what you want to write about, I want you to start putting together an outline,” you prompted.

His eyes traced down the back of your blouse to where it met the waistline of your trousers. His hands still itched to hold you there. Burned was a better word now. He watched your hand scratch words onto the board with a nub of chalk, following the bend and curve of your fingers as they formed letters. 

The past three weeks had been much of the same. You and him, behind the big desk every Monday and Wednesday after school. You; trying to focus on his schoolwork. Him; trying to focus on you. You; letting him get away with it. 

There was plenty of studying happening too. In between studying the curve of your lips, the hue of your laugh, and the bones of your knuckles under his thumb, there were shining moments were something would click and he would solve an equation. Perhaps it was something to do with memory association or whatever textbook word you used to describe the psychology of learning, but something about the way you presented things made it easier for him to absorb. Perhaps it was your gentle patience, or your intuition. Knowing when to press forward and when to back off. Knowing how to show something differently than he’d been taught. Maybe it was just sweeter coming from your lips instead of Ms. O’Donnell’s. 

Eddie shifted in his desk as you clicked the end of your sentence against the board with a flourish. Stretching against the confines of the tiny chair, he hunched over the slab wood barely big enough to fit his notebook, and picked up his own chewed utensil to copy what you’d written. Maybe it was the bulk of his jacket, thicker and warmer with padding for winter, but suddenly he felt claustrophobic.

You whipped around brightly to face the class. “Alright, who remembers what three things inform character action?”

The question was met with restless silence. A cough. A sniffle.

With a defeated sigh, you turned back around to scratch desires, fears, and misbeliefs onto the board.

Glancing out the window at the pale grey sky and naked trees, Eddie counted on his fingers the number of months until there would be leaves on them again. 

Five. 

He just knew it would be an agonizing winter. One that dragged on and on, long after the groundhog saw its shadow. Huffing, he stared down at his beat up spiral notebook, blue lines blurring in his tired vision. The pen went slack in his hand. He closed his eyes and listened to your voice.

“I know these are short stories, but in the end something should have changed internally or interpersonally for your characters as a result of the plot. Remember, the plot is what happens, the story is how it affects the characters,” you said, jotting down the last bit.

It took on a different tone in front of the class. More rigid and professional, louder so it carried to the back of the room. It lacked the warmth and softness that it held when he was next to you. He imagined, for a sweet moment, how it would sound even closer; against the shell of his ear as you breathed a sigh beneath him. The gentle feather of your lips as they traveled south, just below his ear, where his jaw met his neck. In the playground of his mind, he could show you what a man he really was. Here, his hands were free to wander wherever they wanted; dip into the valleys of your clavicles, over the hills of your breasts, around the bend of your waist, the peaks of your hips, the mound of your—

A snicker broke his reverie. When he opened his eyes, Jason’s were already on him. 

“Taking a nap, Munson?” he mouthed mockingly.

Eddie rolled his eyes and seethed as he glared down at his notebook again. He shifted against the back of the hard plastic chair, against the tight cage of the desk. Finding no relief, he huffed and stared blankly ahead at the chalkboard, at the beige concrete wall, at the big desk, and then—at you. The gap had never been more enormous. An ocean of desks, a gaping chasm between where he was and where he wanted to be.

He must have looked downright pitiful, because the look you returned brimmed with a soft concern. In the two seconds he held you, Eddie released a deep sigh. Then you were back to the board.

“L-let’s start by highlighting the main point of each scene,” you said quickly, turning as you cleared your throat. Eddie caught your hand dart behind your neck before it fell promptly to your side. “Basically, why a scene exists and what it needs to accomplish. Does it provide information about the characters or move the story forward? Remember, these are short stories, so we want to make each scene really count.”

Eddie gripped the chewed pen and dutifully copied what you wrote. He knew he could have asked you later, had you explain it all again, given him tips, and pointers, and strategies, even helped him with his outline. But he wanted you to see that he was trying. He wanted you to see that he cared. He was always bad at school. Bad at paying attention. Bad at turning in assignments. Bad at following rules and keeping his mouth shut. 

He wanted to be good for you. 

When the bell rang, chair legs screeched against tile, notebooks crinkled, zippers ripped open and shut in a frenzied cacophony. Eddie hung back until the room filtered out. Until the only person left was you. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he padded up the long isle of desks until he reached yours. A standard routine.

“Hey,” he said, just like every other day. Just to savor another couple seconds in your presence, alone.

You looked up at him from the mess on your desk as you did countless times before, same tired smile, same soft eyes, same response. “Hey.”

Eddie rocked back and forth on his heels, holding your gaze for a little too long. “I’ll—uh, I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Your face grew bright and warm, a glint of summer against the pale, grey sky. “Yeah, see you later, Eddie.” 

There it was, the thing he really came for — his name. He sighed a smile and gave a single nod, turning slowly toward the door. 

______

By the time he made it to chemistry class, Eddie was ready for a nap. Maybe it was the pizza that sat like a rock in the pit of his stomach. Maybe it was the fact that, yet again, he had stayed up entirely too late, lost in your world. 

But he couldn’t just stop, not when Cybelle was being attacked by a ferocious fenfink — like a weasel, only much larger. Sharper claws, bigger teeth, and fatally attracted to something Cybelle had on her person. They were packing up camp in the morning when it happened. Perhaps it had been drawn to the smell of sweet Myrnish breakfast cakes, or the herbs stuffed inside Cybelle’s mask, or perhaps it was her gold amulet that sparkled in the glow of the fire. In hindsight, they really should have picked up a sword in Fenwood. Not that Lazarus had ever swung one. Not that he would trust himself to when the beast was grappling with the neckline of Cybelle’s coat as she struggled to fling it off her. Too much movement. Too many opportunities to miss. Instead, Lazarus had done the only thing he could manage to do in a panic, which is to grab the animal’s back and try to pry it off. 

The path through the boglands was narrow with small allowance for a camp site. On either side lay deep, murky water spotted with mounds of moss and pale, petrified trees. The fenfink didn’t give up easy. It tore at her silk with its claws, sniffing and growling at her crescent moon mask as Lazarus tugged at its furry body. As Cybelle’s boots threatened stumble back over the berm of the trail and into the wet abyss, Lazarus tugged as hard as he could, but the animal snatched a lifeline; a shiny gold chain that glimmered in the pale blue light of the early morning. 

It bent Cybelle forward at the neck. Time froze as her golden promise, his future, dangled in the space between them. Her hands fumbled at the animal’s rear claws to unlatch them from her abdomen. Eyes desperate, mask askew, Lazarus knew what he had to do. One good yank and the chain would break. She would be free, and he could hurl the beast into the bog to buy them time.  He knew it could be done, in theory. What would become of the treasure, however, would be left entirely to fate. 

In the glittering twinkle, he saw his cottage, his garden, his full size bed, his curtains billowing in the salty air. It swayed and skirted across the taught chain, dangling dangerously close to the edge of the murky water.

With a strangled cry, Cybelle worked the claws free of her dress, and he was left with a split second to decide. The golden tether winked in the fire’s glow. Fear flickered in her umber eyes. With a firm, decided tug, Lazarus broke the chain. Time slowed to a halt as the glimmering treasure launched upward with the force of it all. Cybelle stumbled back over the berm, grasping desperately at the air. It followed the arc that she took, hovering just out of reach. She just about bumped it with her fingertip, but the cold, wet shock at her back knocked the wind out of her.

Lazarus watched his dreams tumble into the water, helpless to stop it. As he grappled with the snarling beast, his eyes caught the last golden glimmer of hope before it plunked beneath the inky surface of the bog. He pivoted quickly, launching the creature in a heartbroken rage, and it flailed in the air before its headfirst collision with a tree scattered the birds for miles.

A wet, sobbing cough from the other side of path sent him scrambling toward it. Cybelle was a mess. Clambering on her knees, waist deep in a peaty, black filth that soaked through her gold coat. Her hands raked desperately, blindly, at the thick decay beneath the murky water. 

Lazarus stumbled over the mossy ledge and into the bog, extending his hand, but she could not meet his eyes.

“I-I can find it,” she choked, sucking what little breath she could muster as the soaked fabric clung to her face. “It-it is somewhere here… I heard it.” 

His heart sunk deeper than the treasure. “Please, Cybelle,” he pleaded. 

“I can find it,” she insisted weakly, and another desperate grasp beneath the water sent her tumbling further down. 

He dove in after her then, sinking deep into the muck to grab her by the waist before she slipped beneath the surface. Cybelle was persistent, twisting in his arms as sobs shook her tiny body. He simply gripped her tighter, drawing her toward his chest and out of the water. Her struggles paled to his strength.

“Please,” she whimpered, stamping his white linen shoulders with muddy hands. “I can—I can…” she could barely catch a breath, silk crescent now crooked and blackened with peat. 

With both arms clasped tightly around her back, Lazarus shushed her. “It’s gone, Cybelle.” He could not hide the mourning in his voice.

She shut her eyes with a defeated grimace and went limp. Tears burned her lash line as she sobbed against his chest. They opened when she felt a finger brush behind her ear. Gingerly, slowly, Lazarus hooked his fingers through the loop of her mask, eyes darting back and forth between hers in a wordless request for permission. Her stillness granted it, and with that, he peeled it away.

In the pale blue light of the early morning, waist deep in muck and mire, Lazarus saw Cybelle. Not for the first time ever, but for the first time like this. Raw, and ragged, and inches apart. She inhaled deeply, freely, and for the first time when she breathed out, there were no barriers between them. They stood there a moment in a captivated stillness with nothing but the hum of frogs and song of birds.

Cybelle was the one to break the silence. “We might as well turn around then,” she wavered bitterly. “I have…” her breath hitched, “nothing to offer you.”

Lazarus sighed, shaking his head as he raked in her soft features. “Your company,” he began, “is enough.”

Cybelle shut her eyes, blinking tears over her lashes to streak trails through her the dirt on her cheeks, and for the first time, her muddy arms drew around his waist, and she embraced him.

Eddie pressed his heated forehead to the cool slate of the lab table and shifted his stool back against the floor with a loud screech. Images of fenfinks, and pendants, and bog mire danced behind his eyelids. He could hear the weary exhaustion in Mr. Westfield’s voice. He didn’t even need to look up to know he was leaning against his desk and running his hand through his thinning hairline as he’d done a hundred times before at the top of sixth period.

“Alright, so today we’re going to be creating magnesium oxide. Magnesium plus oxygen. Get it?” The question was answered with sleepy eyes and a few stray sniffles. Mr. Westfield sighed. “Right. Since the school can’t afford enough bunsen burners for all of you, this week you’ll be splitting up into pairs.”

The room came alive, eyes meeting eyes as claims flew across the room. Eddie peeked over his arms at the table in front of him. Tina was practically falling out of her stool as she reached for Chrissy on the other side of the room with grabby hands. 

Mr. Westfield looked thoroughly unamused by the commotion. “I’ll be assigning them.”

The classroom groaned almost unanimously. 

“Hate to be a party pooper,” he started, his tone indicating quite the opposite, “but you’re here to learn, not to chit-chat. Ok, let’s see here…” Mr. Westfield adjusted his glasses on his nose as he scanned down the list of names in his attendance book. 

A restless silence fell over the room as the students awaited their fate. 

“Looks like we have an even number, excellent. Tina, you’ll be with Bobby.”

Eddie could see Tina’s eyes roll through the back of her head. 

Mr. Westfield peered up from his glasses. “Don’t act so excited. Ok, then we’ll have Ricky and Carmen, Sally and Janae…” he went down the list of names, checking them off and scribbling them on the side of the sheet to keep track.

Eddie sat up and glanced around the room as pairs were made, mentally checking off classmates as their names were called, ears perked and primed to hear his own. As the ones who remained dwindled and dwindled down to only two, his pulse quickened. 

“Ok and then that just leaves Ms. Cunningham,” he punctuated with his pen, “and Mr. Munson.”

Fuck.

Eddie turned his head slowly, reluctantly, toward the other side of the room where Chrissy Cunningham sat, and was met with a soft, coy smile. He swallowed and whipped his head to face forward. 

Un-fucking believable. If there was a God, which Eddie sincerely doubted, he sure had a twisted sense of humor.

Since their brief confrontation in the hallway following Tina’s Halloween party, Chrissy had, to his honest surprise, respected his wishes and kept her distance. It never stopped her from looking though. Stares, he would discover, were something you could feel. Burning into his temple from behind the curtain of his hair in class, heating the back of his neck at his locker as her perfume wafted up the hall. It was almost a daily occurrence. 

As the classroom rearranged itself in a cacophony of screeching stools and shuffling backpacks,  Eddie remained planted right were he was, thumbing at the bent spiral of his notebook, mind racing as his eyes glazed over. It was less than a minute before he smelled that familiar perfume and heard the stool next to him scoot against the floor.

“Hey,” came a voice like powdered sugar. 

Eddie looked up from his notebook with a slow hesitance. “Hey.”

“I…grabbed you some safety glasses and an apron,” she said, setting the items on the counter.

Silently lamenting the idea of spending the remaining hour wearing them, he gave a single nod and thanked her.

The room bustled with chatter as Mr. Westfield came around to dole out the bunsen burners, crucibles, scales, and other small tools. “You got a hair tie, Munson?” he asked.

Eddie patted himself down and feigned disappointment. “Fresh out I’m afraid.” 

“I’ve got one,” Chrissy interjected, rolling a powder blue scrunchie from her wrist to swing from the curve of her finger.

Eddie stared at it a second as it dangled in the space between them before snatching it. “Thanks,” he conceded. As he twisted the satin band around his curls to form a low ponytail, he could feel the heat from her gaze. It lingered as he put on his goggles, even as he tied the ribbons of the stiff apron behind his back. 

Wayne, perceptive as ever, had been right all those years ago outside the auditorium. He did, at eleven, have a crush on Chrissy Cunningham, but there were only so many times a person could ignore him before he got the memo. Before he figured out he wasn’t worth their time. It wasn’t the first time it happened. In fact, Eddie had become so accustomed to getting looked through instead of at that he’d made it a lifestyle to stand out. To talk loud, and dress loud, and play loud. To bite back, and shirk rules, and cause a scene. And over the course of a year he barely remembered, he’d left whatever feelings he might have had for her exactly where they belonged; in the graveyard with everything else he would rather forget.

But for some reason this year was different. He wasn’t sure what switch flipped that caused her to suddenly see him. Maybe it was because she was tired of her meathead boyfriend and needed a distraction. Maybe it was because he looked especially dangerous this year. Maybe it was because he’d been held back so many times that he’d become more forbidden than ever; an odd and tempting fascination. 

Eleven year old Eddie would have been elated. Twenty year old Eddie was, to put it simply, annoyed. 

Mr. Westfield returned to the front of the classroom to give instruction, and Eddie tried his best to follow along with the handout. 

The room sparked to life with the hiss of gas and the whump of it igniting from all corners. As the tall flame dance in front of him, Eddie tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that tempted him to dangle the sleeve of his flannel a little too close so he could escape to the nurse’s office. Freshman Eddie wouldn’t have thought twice.

Chrissy turned on the scale between them and set the empty clay crucible on top of it as instructed. She leaned in to record the weight and copied it onto her worksheet. Eddie did the same. According to the worksheet, the next step was to add the magnesium and weigh it again. 

“Make sure the coil isn’t too tight,” advised Mr. Westfield, “you’re gonna want to leave room for air.”

Eddie picked up the clay triangle, doing his best to stay focused on the task, and set it on the metal ring above the flame as demonstrated. 

“I think the ring is too high,” said Chrissy, leaning in to twist the clamp loose enough to lower it. “It’s gotta be like, in the blue part of the flame I think.” Her arm grazed his as she reached into his bubble, and suddenly he was back on that couch, feeling the her phantom fingers on the pins of his vest again, gold halo crooked, lips ghosting cherry alcohol. Eddie shot his gaze forward.

“Ok, now place the crucible in the center of the triangle,” Mr. Westfield instructed.

Eddie grabbed hold of the metal tongs and used them to pinch the pale clay vessel. Chrissy leaned closer as he lowered it to rest above the flame. 

Then they would wait. In the waiting, the classroom grew louder. Tina stood by her stool, arms crossed, eyes cast sideways in annoyance as Mr. Westfield came over to address the lack of flame coming out of her bunsen burner. 

Eddie sat there in tense silence, eyes fixed forward as the flame licked the crucible with its blue heat.

“You know, this definitely beats equations,” Chrissy remarked with a soft chuckle.

He couldn’t really argue with that. Eddie didn’t say that though, instead he just nodded quietly. 

“Say um,” Chrissy thumbed at the gummy eraser of her pencil, “Jason hasn’t given you any trouble, has he?”

Resentment rose up from the graveyard. “Define trouble,” he groused.

Chrissy sighed. “He can be a real asshole sometimes,” she admitted, to his surprise.

Eddie took a deep breath. It was vivid — the way she stumbled off that couch. How she nearly tripped over her own shoes. How Jason barked at her. The crazed look in his eyes. The fear in hers. “Sometimes?” he bit back.

Chrissy toyed at the hem of her skirt. “He’s not all bad.”

He wasn’t sure if it was the inflection of her voice, or the way her eyes cast down in shameful denial, but it transported him — all the way back to that small kitchen table, feet dangling from the chair as the red wax in his hand filled in the flame from a dragon’s mouth. He could see his mother in the kitchen doorway, her finger coiled tightly around the telephone cord, uttering the same words to a concerned voice on the other end. 

Eddie hardened his lips and shook his head bitterly. “Yeah, well, doesn’t make him good.” 

“Alright folks, listen up,” Mr. Westfield called out, drawing the attention of the class. “Next you’ll add the oxygen by lifting the lid to let some air in.”  

With a sudden, determined movement, Chrissy reached across him to grab the tongs, bracing herself against the slate table. She gave them a few clicks before pinching the handle to lift the small, clay lid. A reaction occurred; blinding and white, igniting the gap between crucible and lid in a flickering flare.

They jumped back in unison. 

“Try not to stare,” advised Mr. Westfield with monotone enthusiasm. “You could damage your eyes.”

Timely advice. Eddie blinked the white dots that clung to his vision away, and a smile caught him by surprise, betraying his steely resolve. 

Chrissy caught it, and her sea green eyes found his from across the bunsen burner as she lowered the lid again. “That was awesome,” she whispered wildly.

It was kind of cool, he had to admit. He would take playing with fire over staring numbly at numbers on a page any day. Eddie peered over the rim of his plastic safety glasses and offered a tentative smile. 

The heating continued, allowing for air every once in a while until finally there was no more reaction. There wasn’t much to say. Eddie removed the crucible from the burner. Chrissy added water from the pipette until the contents formed a paste. Eddie returned the crucible to the heat. The water evaporated. In the silence of their cooperation, in the passing of tools and scribbling of notes, Eddie wondered how long it would be before Chrissy came to her own conclusions. If she would ever figure out that even though Jason wasn’t all bad, she could do so much better. 

Not with him, but on her own.

Clutching the crucible in the tongs, Chrissy set it on the scale for the final time. They both copied the weight onto their worksheets — different than when they started.

With five minutes to the bell, the cleanup was frenzied; a clammer of equipment hastily returned to shelves and boxes backdropped against the hissing water of half a dozen sinks. Even Mr. Westfield had given up on volume control in favor of tidiness. Eddie rid himself of the dreaded apron and goggles just in time for the bell to ring, and with that he snatched his backpack from the floor and followed the flow of his classmates out the door. 

It wasn’t until he made it to the hallway that he remembered. Reaching back behind his neck, he felt it; ruffled satin. The owner was only a few feet ahead, ponytail swaying in ruffled white cotton as she walked. 

“Chrissy!” 

Her footsteps slowed, eyes brimming with a coy mischief that shot dread down his spine when turned against traffic to face him.

______

“Outlines are due on Friday,” you called to your class as you wiped down the board, a cloud of chalk dusted the air as you swiped the soft eraser over the letters. Like the wave of a magic wand, the bell had turned your practically snoring class into an eruption of noise. Before you could hear a pin drop, now you had to shout. With two periods left in the day, you wondered how many more times you would answer the same question. How many more times you would ask one only to be met with coughs and tired eyes.

Your feet hurt. Even the boots you had chosen for comfort and practicality were causing an ache in the soles of them, the hard heel putting too much pressure on your own. The lukewarm coffee you’d savored during fifth period had long since run its course through you. Glancing up at the clock, you realized you had about five minutes to take care of business or be forced to suffer for the duration of seventh period as well. Setting down the eraser, the decision was easy.

Your tired feet clicked down the crowded hallway with a sense of urgency that seemed to evade the rest of traffic. Scent pockets of perfume, mint gum, cigarettes, and body odors wafted through the air as you hurried past the rows of slamming lockers, dodging a pair of students overcome with the temptation to roughhouse, one grabbing the other by the backpack and yanking, sprinting ahead so his friend couldn’t catch him. You sighed, voice too tired to conjure discipline. 

As you picked up on that strange, familiar scent of the approaching science lab, your eyes, like a magnet, were drawn to a familiar silhouette, standing just outside the door. You would have recognized him anywhere, picked him out of a crowd of thousands. Flutters bloomed in your chest. His long, dark curls bounced as he shook them out with his hand, like he was scratching the back of his head. 

It was enchanting; the way he did just about anything. The way he moved, his sharp elbows and quick hands, the bright timbre of his voice, how his energy could shift on a dime from a soft breeze to a ripping gust. 

The past three weeks had been much of the same. Conversations that strayed from educational to casual. Lingering glances. Secret touches. Stolen moments. Never speaking the truth of your heart. Never offering more than your hand. 

The flow of students swept you forward, and as you passed, a figure emerged from behind where his shoulders obscured. In the seconds that slowed to a crawl, your eyes gathered volumes. 

Strawberry blonde, petite, clutching a book to her soft, white cardigan. Sparkling eyes under soft blue shadow, cocked head, fluttering lashes, a smile bright enough to draw a moth.

Craning your neck back as traffic surged, you searched for his eyes.

Eddie didn’t see you.

You blinked, hard, and snapped your gaze forward over the sea of students as your heart leapt into your throat. 

It was fine. 

Click.

It was nothing.

Click.

He’s allowed to talk to people. 

Click.

He didn’t see you.

Click.

Of course not, it’s crowded.

Click.

It burned, like the image was seared into your retinas. Her clean, white sneaker coyly toeing at the tile. Teeth that teased at plump, pink lips. Heavy lidded eyes. Arched back. Delicate fingers curled around a textbook spine. You tried to blink it away.

It was fine. It was nothing.

You rounded the corner for the faculty bathroom, relieved to find it empty, and shut yourself inside. The tried old light bathed the room in a yellow wash. You locked the door and stood there for a moment, heart racing, chest heaving in the quiet reprieve from the bells, lockers, and voices. Space for your thoughts to grow louder as you went about your business.

Why shouldn’t he talk to some girl? There was nothing wrong with that. In the glimpse that you caught of his face, it was lacking in distinct expression. Listening. Nothing worth noting. It was hers that really stuck with you. Her rosy cheeks and perky ponytail. The way she batted her eyes and licked her lips like she wanted to make a meal out of him.

Eddie Munson; summer wind. Tall and roguish, charming and animated, full of surprises. It was shocking he was single. Downright unbelievable that no other woman in this entire school would harbor any feelings. There had to be at least a handful that cast shy gazes as they passed him in the hallway. At least a few that floated curious whispers across lunch tables. In the dark corners of your imagination you had always figured, you’d just never seen it. And now the image wouldn’t leave you. Sticky. Clinging like you’d stepped in gum. 

You met your tired eyes in the mirror above the sink. Timeless, it mocked, as the whisper of lines became canyons. 

On the other side of the door was sea of young women. Free to talk and gawk and get into the sort of trouble he surely had a taste for. The kind of trouble you only had the freedom to imagine. How long before the novelty of you wore off? Before his restless hands sought something more? Something he could grasp in broad daylight? Someone who could keep his stride, share a milkshake or a bucket of popcorn?

You cast your welling eyes downward, turned on the water, wet your hands, and pumped the soap.

It started subtle, last spring. Started with the way he looked at you; a flame that dimmed to embers over months of dinners spent alone, plates gone cold, beds left empty, leaving you with nothing but to wonder how he looked at her. 

Time moves quickly for young men. You of all people would know it. Like a wildfire; hungry and insatiable, devouring everything in its path. It renders promises of meaning, leaves the past in charred remains. It surges ever forward, seeking fuel. 

It left behind an ice in you. Stalling over the sink as the world surged on outside, you felt it seize your chest again.

Eddie Munson; wildfire. Twenty years old. Restless. Reckless. He wasn’t your boyfriend. You weren’t an item. You were nothing.

The water was scalding. Bubbles erupted as you worked up a lather. Scrubbing your knuckles, your palms, the space between your fingers where his had nestled once. 

No. You weren’t nothing. 

The bell had you flinching; a loud and shrill summons back to your post, your place, your duty. 

You were his teacher.

Pinballs. Louder than the shrieking bell. Louder than ever before. You didn’t dare meet your eyes again, frightened of what sort of monster would stare back.

What am I doing? 

You turned off the water and paused, hands weeping over the sink. 

It was foolish, to play with fire. It was foolish just about anywhere, but here the walls were made of tinder, the desks of charcoal. His fingers like matches, striking you with every touch. But oh, how you craved the heat. Close enough to thaw you; the ice deep in your chest, weeping as it melted, pooling in your lap, making puddles on the floor.

Droplets fell to the tile as you turned to grab a paper towel. It soaked through, blooming dark, wet patches as the brown paper blotted up the dampness.

You shook your head bitterly. No. You certainly weren’t nothing. You were a phase. A passing fancy. An odd fascination. You would never make it to May. You’d be lucky if you made it to January without losing his interest entirely.

You crumpled the soggy paper in your fists and threw it in the trash. Blinking back tears, you pressed your hand to the door and took one deep, final breath as you prepared to face the world again — to put on your mask and perform in front of twenty pairs of judging eyes.

The gap was enormous. Cavernous and treacherous. He deserved someone he could be with in public. Someone he could take to a park or a movie. Someone he could go to fucking prom with. 

With a ragged exhale, you pressed open the door.  

He deserved someone his own age. 

The hall was a flurry of slamming lockers, a scattering of the few straggling students who rushed to find their classrooms. The wind cooled your heated face as you marched, one foot in front of the other, to your post. Shoulders back, deep breaths, sore feet making echos off the polished tile. 

He’d get tired of you too.

Click.

Click.

They always do.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

The hall stretched on like an Escher drawing, twisting and distorting in your vision as you neared your classroom door. Tears threatened your lashes, and you huffed them away with a determined shrug of your shoulders.

As your fingers grazed the cold metal handle, you caught your own eyes in the glass. Sad and droopy, welling with longing and resentment. On the other side you could already hear the commotion, the questions, the stares, the awkward silence. The bell rang again — a final warning. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned the handle.

______

Eddie twisted the ridged dial of his locker in his fingers, left and right until he heard a click. Popping the door open and slinging his backpack forward on his shoulder, he unloaded three weighty textbooks into the dark, cluttered enclosure. He grabbed his thick, leather coat, tucked it under his arm, and slammed the door shut. 

In the absence of the books, and of the dimming noise as it filtered out through the front doors and into the parking lot, he felt another weight lift in him. In a matter of minutes, the mindless chatter, the tried scenery of this dull prison, the days worth of stares that clung to him like glue would fall away as he passed the threshold of your door. 

With every step he took, Eddie felt lighter. The slamming lockers didn’t phase him, the weird looks from freshmen went right through him, even the shoulder check from a jock coming around the corner glanced right off. In a million years he never would have expected to feel relieved to stay after school, or a pep in his step as he approached a classroom, but in a million years he never expected to find you behind the big desk. 

He could feel the warmth already as he approached your open door. Hear your laughter at his stupid jokes, feel the heat of your arm graze his, catch your hand, and you, by surprise. But when he turned into threshold, knuckles raising out of habit to rap against it, he was met with a different scene.

You didn’t look up. Not even when tapped his knuckles to the wood in a shave-and-a-haircut—two-bits pattern. Head cast down over a sea of papers, you looked like you were drowning. He padded slowly toward the big desk, face dropping as he noticed another detail: the wooden folding chair—his chair—sat empty and open. Across from you.

Eddie dropped his backpack to the floor with a heavy thump, making his presence known. “Hey,” he started, tentative and cautious. 

It wasn’t until he was practically towering over you that you finally looked up at him, face heavy, expressionless, tired. “Hey,” you stated plainly.

Eddie craned his head and searched your eyes. “You ok?”

You blinked and swallowed. “Yeah, everything’s fine.” 

He stood like this a moment, vision locked with yours, dark eyes roving, searching. When you offered nothing more, he simply nodded once, strolled around to the front of your desk, grabbed the back of the chair with a determined slap, and dragged it around to where it belonged — beside you. 

He took his place in it; draping his coat over the back of it like always, creaking the wood with his weight as he plunked himself down.

You resumed wading through the sea, heavy gaze cast over it. 

Eddie toyed with a pencil on your desk, tapping the eraser to the wood as his eyes bored a hole into the side of your head. You just kept on roving, shoulders tense, lips worried. He could have been invisible, watching you from a hole in a poster, or a crack in the wall. You offered him the same level of attention. “Something’s wrong,” he confronted, unable to take the frigid silence for a moment longer.

You sighed and set your pen down. “I’m sorry, it’s just…” your hand worried the back of your neck, “…a lot, this time of year, work wise.” Your eyes met his only for a second before casting downward again at the pages. “Here, let me clear this up.” Your hands busied themselves with the mess, shuffling the paper into a clumsy, hurried pile.

“No—no, it’s…it’s ok.” He scooted his chair closer, feeling so useless all of a sudden, burdensome, like his presence added to your task load. He wanted to help, to alleviate the tension, but his hands simply fumbled in his lap as you collected the clutter with your chalk dusted knuckles. As you tapped the pile of papers against the desk in haste to form a semblance of a pile, his hand gained a mind of its own. 

As if possessed by its own separate consciousness, an impulse deep and thrumming with the need to soothe, it took up refuge in the place between your shoulders; warm and firm, drawing slow, caring circles at your blouse. 

You froze, papers stiff against the surface, gaze straight ahead. His hand followed suit, freezing, twitching, arm locked in its extension.

“Y-you should—” you stuttered, blinking wildly as you found your breath. “Why don’t you go grab your schoolwork?” you asked with a curtness that startled him.

Eddie lurched his hand away like you were a hot stove. “I—I’m sorry I just… w-wanted to help. I’m sorry.” His mind became a whirlpool, swirling with worry as his stomach did backflips. He fumbled with the zipper on his backpack.

“No—no, Eddie, I’m… I’m sorry,” you lamented. 

He’d never seen your face so fraught. Like you’d stepped on a cat’s tail, chased it through the house with apologies. 

“It’s not your fault, it’s…” You swallowed, breaking his gaze. You couldn’t finish the sentence. You didn’t need to. 

Mine.

He was losing you. 

He should have expected it by now. What could he possibly offer you anyway? His hand? A few stolen moments? Some flirty comments to make you feel good about yourself for a second or two? 

He wondered when the other shoe would drop. When you would open your eyes and see this for what it really was — that you were a grown ass woman with a college degree and a real career, and he was twenty years old repeating his senior year of high school for the third fucking time, selling drugs to teenagers, and oh, your student for fuck’s sake. 

It wasn’t lost on him; that he was playing tee-ball in a big league stadium. He stared into the crumpled contents of his backpack with a deep, shaking breath, and pulled out his notebook. It fell from his hand with a dejected slap against the big desk; juvenile amidst the tidy assortment of office supplies. The spiral was bent and crumpled, the cover worn soft from abuse. He sat there a moment and stared at it as the heavy silence swallowed you both. 

Your lips hardened to a bitter line, eyes cast down over the evidence of your position. Over the evidence of his. You wouldn’t look at him, like you were afraid to. Finally, after a suffocating minute, you spoke — frigidly professional. “What do you want to work on today?” 

The question sent a hot rage coursing through him. So that was it, then? Business as usual? Pretending like nothing happened? That none of this was real? Eddie sat back in his seat and boiled with a gaze so intense it could have burned right through you. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction of an answer. Not until you gave him enough respect to look him in the eyes when you asked the question.

You just sat there, frozen, shoulders locked, eyes cast down at the big desk for an agonizing moment that stretched well past the point of comfort. His gaze was unrelenting, fueled by stubborn indignation. You felt it. He knew you did, because when you finally did submit your eyes to him, you flinched. 

He almost felt bad for it. For causing you to shrink so small, to look so fragile, like how you did when you’d relinquished a fragment of your past, when the impulse to soothe you drove him to your hand. The impulse rose again, as did some annoyance by it; the grip you had on him, even in his most determined anger. 

“What?” you choked out, barely above a whisper.

You knew damn well what. The audacity to ask sent heat coursing through his veins again, but the look in your eyes, like cornered prey, quelled the fire enough to sigh his way to a level-headed response. “You’re acting different,” he said simply. 

You swallowed, breaking his gaze like you’d been caught. It would be insulting to deny it. He could see the gears turning over in your head, the thoughts forming careful words behind your eyes, but in the end, all you could muster was, “I’m sorry.” 

It was a weak admission. It answered nothing, really, other than confirming his suspicions. But it was something. He wanted to press, to poke, to pry, and get to the bottom of what caused this shift in you, but in the silence of the classroom, with floors that echoed and walls that listened, words like “you won’t let me touch you,” seemed too far too direct, far too pointed. In the end, it was your eyes that said the most; welling like pools with all the words he knew would pierce the ever thinning veil, poke holes in your shared secrets, make them monstrous and real.

In the end, your eyes just tugged him forward, made him soft and pliant until all he could muster was decency. “It’s…” he sighed, raking his hand through his hair, “it’s fine.” Soft as he intended it, he couldn’t hide the broken edge.

There was little relief in sigh you gave, heavy and ragged. Your fingers grazed the curled, beaten corner of his notebook with a caring reverence that made him wish that he was paper. 

He wondered how much longer it could go on like this, before you craved something more than he could offer. Before you tired of secret touches and passing glances. Before some hot-shot with a convertible saw you at a bar somewhere and swept you away. The crushing realization hung heavy in the space between you, the gap more cavernous than ever.

Eddie twisted his rings in his lap, fingers burning. It was a miracle you’d let him touch you to begin with. But you did, and he had, and by god, he refused to go back. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t. Not when you’d let him into your world, given him more than he ever thought possible — a sliver of hope. For you. For himself.

When the silence became too much for him to bear, he broke it with your name.

Your first name.

Bitter grief melted to soft shock as your lips parted, eyes widened. At last, he had your full attention. 

With a deep breath, he started. “I don’t… know what happened. If it’s something I did o-or something someone said, or, fuck,” he ran hand through his hair, exasperated, words trailing off into nothing. 

“Eddie,” you started, eyes softening deeper; into sympathy, into pity. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why won’t you look at me?” he snapped, but the quiver in his voice betrayed him. 

You swallowed, shaking your head, but before you could give an answer he didn’t want to hear, he continued.

“I know, it—it’s ludicrous, this whole thing. To think that I—” he breathed a bitter laugh, “that you,” he glanced at the door. 

But instead of shutting him down with the ugly truth, you leaned closer, like your whole world hinged on him. He saw it then, hope, glimmering like a golden treasure in the tremble of your lips, in the pinching of your brow, in the welling of your eyes that threatened to spill over.

“I know,” you whispered, like it caused you pain. 

Slowly, Eddie raised his hand to rest on top of his notebook, a fractional distance from yours. Close enough to feel your heat, to catch the subtle tremble of your knuckles. So transfixed by the curve of your delicate fingers beside the broad, ruddy angles of his, that had he not dared to draw his eyes away, he might have missed the tear that pinched through your lashes when you closed them.

Slowly, bravely, he inched his pinky forward. Just close enough to graze yours. It was a phantom of a touch, but you didn’t pull away. In fact, when he looked up, he was surprised to see a whisper of a smile. A sad, soft thing, like it was breaking through layers to surface. Emboldened, he raised his pinky, ever so slightly, to gently stroke yours. The gesture was small and silly, but enough to earn a puff of laughter through the smile that cracked the gloom upon your features.

It opened up a narrow passage, and he entered with the boldest thing that he had ever said.

Maybe it was the fact that he was too stubborn, or perhaps too stupid for his own good, but the sheer audacity of what came out of his mouth next surprised even himself. “Um, my band is playing at the Hideout tomorrow—a-and—” he swallowed, gaining composure as he raised his eyes to your level with conviction. “I want you to come.” 

It was all he could offer. An experience. 

Your jaw dropped. 

“I think—I-Iwant you to see some of the new stuff we’ve been working on. I think you’d like it,” he peddled on.

“Oh, Eddie I—” you shook your head. “I don’t know, I mean—”

He doubled down, brows level and serious. “We—we don’t have to come together. Hell, bring a friend, bring several. It doesn’t have to be a big deal if we don’t make it a big deal. People go to bars all the time.”

As you worried your lips in your teeth, he could see the scales tipping back and forth, weighing the odds and risks against the want. “Oh god, I don’t know.”

“You’re allowed to exist in public. You don’t just like… fold your arms and retreat into the walls here at night,” he laughed.

It snapped a chuckle out of you, like sunlight peeking through the clouds. “Oh yeah? Tell that to the students I run into at the grocery store,” you quipped. Then, as quickly as the sunlight came, the clouds were back. You surveyed the room and dropped your eyes in pensive worry. 

Eddie stroked his pinky over yours, slowly, sweetly. “Please?”

You gave him a look, one that threatened resistance but hiding just beneath it, surrender.

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” he persuaded, “just me on stage, and you in the audience cheering with your girlfriends or whatever, well, hopefully cheering. I mean ‘Hand of Doom’ is still a crapshoot sometimes but,” he breathed a laugh. 

With a chuckling shake of your head, your resolve crumbled like sand in front of his eyes. 

“You can boo us too, wouldn’t be the first time. We’ve got tough skin.”

You rolled your eyes and laughed. “I’m not gonna boo you.”

A wicked grin cracked like lightning across his face. “Not gonna, you mean you’ll come then?” 

You sighed, deep and heavy, shifting the scales back and forth.

Eddie tipped his head and raised his eyebrows. “You know you want to.”

“Of course I want to,” you deadpanned.

His umber eyes glimmered, wild and auspicious. “Well then, do what you want,” he said, sitting back in his seat like the decision was easy.

Want. A shelved, forgotten thing, like something you’d lost in the move. Something you’d tucked away long before that. Left to grow stale inside a box, in the back of a closet, in a place you barely remembered. 

It sat beside you now, loud and unignorable, with lips that begged and eyes that pleaded. And you, in all your years of practiced discipline, could no longer deny it. 

Eddie Munson; wildfire. Restless, frenetic, warm, and compelling. 

With a dignified sigh, and a verdant conviction that peeked through the ash, you turned to him at last, and surrendered.

______

A/N: So begins the craziest week in the whole story. Two words: Donkey Kong. 😈

The next chapter might take me a little longer than usual just because it's a moment we've all been waiting for and I want to make sure it's absolutely perfect.

Also, I've been featured on a PODCAST so if you want to hear me talk about this story and specifically the appeal of reader insert fics, check it out HERE!

✨ As always, nothing encourages me to continue writing this story more than hearing from you. Seriously, please give me your thoughts, your theories, your keyboard smashes. Hit up my inbox, my DMs, whatever suits your fancy.

Taglist: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @storiesbyrhi @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @mantorokk-writes @loveshotzz @trashmouth-richie @big-ope-vibes @carolmunson @wordscomehither @munson-blurbs @blueywrites @alottanothing @bebe07011 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @idkidknemore @alizztor @godcreatoreli @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @alienthings @eddiemunsonsbitcch @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @catherinnn @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @ruby-dragon @ladylilylost @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @chaoticgood-munson @hanahkatexo @eddiemunsonsbedroom @beep-beep-sherlock @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi @sllooney @lunaladybug734 @callingmrsbarnes

#seriously guys I'm stoked about this one #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson older reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x teacher!reader #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson angst #don't stand so close to me

[myun-saidthoughts]

Why 8H/12H/Plutonian Synastry Feels 'Karmic'

In most cases, when someone's inner planets fall in your 8th/12th houses or if someone's Pluto makes harsh aspects (conjunct, square, oppose) to your Sun, Moon, Rising, Mars or Venus; the energy you'll feel from them is intoxicating, it'll be all-consuming, its energy you deep down crave, and energy you don't have within, but wish you'd possessed.

When someone enters your life and they touch these parts of you, any voids your inner self has, disappears. When you're with them; a part of you will feel complete and any upheaval you have within somehow vanishes. Suddenly, the part of you that you avoid, hide, ignore or suppress feels at ease, they are the cushion your soul wishes for.

(This kind of energy is profoundly different when this is dealing with family relations, e.g., your mother's or father's inner planets fall in your 8H/12H and vice versa.)

This is karmic energy because with them you feel your best, but without them, you'll feel your worst. Their presence becomes this necessity that you'll always desire for, once they enter your energy field you'll always need a quick fix, they become this pacifier for your pain and you'll develop a scarcity mindset without them. You'll grow a need for them because without them you can't feel this "high." Without them, you only feel the fear of what it means to be open and vulnerable, without them, you only feel the fear of what it truly means to express suppressed emotions and without them you only feel the fear of letting someone in.

You're terrified of giving a part of yourself to another but with them, that part of you feels healed.

The intensity of this synastry will vary, but for those who are are influenced heavy by Pluto or have natal Scorpio placements with 8H/12H placements with the Moon/Sun making harsh aspects to Neptune/Pluto who may have deep paternal/past partnership wounds (e.g, an absent or un-nurturing parent/s, a chaotic or recluse kind of mother, a bipolar abusive father/past partner; it all depends), will feel this heavy. The absence of the worth you wish you felt from your parents or past partner has now brought this person (who touches the darkest and deepest parts within you) to you.

The fact of the matter is the same. This person came into your life to highlight these neglected needs of yours as a catalyst for you to transform, heal and become a more secure and stable individual.

In some cases, they become this false home in your eyes, a look from them will make you feel warm, and finally for once, you'll start to feel complete. You will feel like it's safe enough to fall for them because they'll make you feel secure within yourself, (the same feeling you wish you could hold onto) their touch will feel like a bandaid from the kind of love you've received from previous relationships/parents, so you'll accept it; even to your own detriment. You'll suddenly feel the care you've always wished you felt and that's why the thought of them leaving or the thought of them choosing someone else feels gut wrenching. They become this savior you deeply wish you had.

The reason this type of energy is so easy to become attached to yet feels so hard to let go is because it's energy that you crave, it pacifies (for the time being) your pain. They are an outside manifestation of what you wish to feel on your own. They're just a reflection of what's 'broken' in you, and it's easier to give your power away, than to give it to yourself.

To look at someone with fear of them leaving will only create situations and scenarios where your self worth is tested over and over again, you'll start to feel the same terror you felt as a child, the same terror you say you try to run from.

You know you will feel this intense loss without them, yet when they're looking into your eyes; that 'feeling' feels okay. That's why this synastry is so transformative and can be life-changing.

Within, there's a desire for someone to erase the hurt that was created by circumstances you couldn't control. And because of this, the universe has planted this individual to enter your life. Naturally the pain you've endured is hard to overcome or accept, only until you have too will the healing really begin, and this person is a catalyst for just that.

You have to choose yourself instead of someone else, and because of constant disappointment, hurt or abandonment you've experienced, that's terrifying.

How can you choose yourself or let yourself receive unconditional love? You're not familiar with that energy so it's feels foreign to you, yet when someone's Pluto make significant aspects to your inner planets or when someone's planets fall in your 8/12 houses, their language and words will feel native and fluent to you.

These questions are the exact reasons why you are experiencing this karmic situation.

Your soul knew what kind of circumstances you were going to deal with, and it wants you to heal. It wants you to accept that pain. The universe does not want you to sit in this pain, it wants you to succeed, accept and overcome any and all challenges that you've dealt with.

You're not alone in this, and you didn't come to this Earth to only experience the same never ending cycles.

This experience is only a pit-stop for you, at the end of it all you will reach your final enlightenment destination.

P.S:

This post is particularly for those who struggle with self-worth/self-love/confidence etc. 8th and 12th house synastry can be beautiful when both partners are healed and accepting of their harsh past. The depths of emotions you two can create together is unworldly and powerful. Therefore I do think 8H/12H can work but it would have to be with two profound open-minded and spiritual people. You both will have to want this in ways you've never could have imagined before. I'm also a Scorpio Moon and 12H native so this energy for me does feel more enticing, but to each their own and it really depends on the natal chart/individual itself.

Side Note: To balance the intensity these synastry aspects/overlays bring, taking on the opposite houses themes would bring more ease and create less intensity.

For example, dealing with 12H (Even Neptune) synastry, the opposite house is the 6H, the house of routine, daily life, mundane affairs, healthcare, helping others/giving etc etc. So if you take on new hobbies/activities by changing your daily routine with adding or taking away something, that will ease the fixation that 12H synastry brings. Often times with this synastry you will find yourself day dreaming or obsessing over someone you desire, you may have this innate need to be their savior or try and fix their wounds, so you will put yourself in situations where your priority is solely them. you could also fantasize and have an escapist attitude with them, (or the idea of them) they can be an escape for you or you might find yourself thinking about them a lot, repeating scenarios in your head or fantasizing about situations happening, or you might feel confused/hazy with where you stand with them so you constantly are thinking of them but keeping yourself busy is key with this synastry, and that will create more control within you.

For 8H/Pluto synastry, the opposite house is the 2H, the house of value, self esteem, possessions, finances and security etc. So to gain more control within, I would say find something that will bring value to you, something that enhances your self esteem. Something you can accomplish on your own or achieve/do that will bring you a higher sense of self. Because their eyes alone bring you that sense of value or sense of wholeness (you wish you felt on your own), focusing or harnessing your energy towards a deep creative project will ease that "need" for them (the planet person). Create something anything; writing, painting, or learn ways to make more income etc, this will bring you the sense of worthiness or value you crave for and these projects/creative outlets will ease the intensity. If you have many outlets that bring you the satisfaction that you yearn for (the sense of value that the 8H planet person brings you) there will be less of a need for them, and you won't develop a scarcity mindset because without them you still feel valuable, whole, and worthy.

I have an eBook, and with it has more precise definitions regarding the placements of the IC, Moon aspects, and the potential manifestations of each inner planet in the 8th or 12th house for individuals. As well as it provides information if the person you're connected to is a karmic connection, it has advice, insights and exact transits/synastry overlays to further understand the connection. You can find more information about it pinned on my page.

#8th house synastry #12th house synastry #8h synastry #12h synastry #pluto #plutonic #plutonians #scorpio #abandonedment wounds #astrology #asto #astro notes #8h house #12h house #8 and 12 house #8 house overlays #8th house overlays #12th house overlays #pluto-synastry #pluto synastry aspects #moon conjunct pluto #moon square pluto #venus conjunct pluto #venus square pluto #moon conjunct pluto synastry #venus conjunct pluto synastry #mars conjunct pluto #synastry overlays #synastry observations #venus sqaure pluto synastry

[prying-pandora666]

The Bachelorette: Toph Beifong Edition - Who is the Dad?

(Adapted from a Twitter thread of mine)

Since I’ve been asked several times if I know the answer to this question, let’s just compile a post.

Who is the father of Toph’s children? A comprehensive guide of the five most cited candidates.

It’s stated in canon that Lin and Suyin have different fathers. Right away this complicates matters as we can’t use the evidence for one sister and apply it to the other.

So let’s break them down separately, starting with the youngest.

—

Suyin Beifong

Bachelor #1: Sokka

We all know who he is. The man, the myth, the legend himself. FOR: Probably the most popular as he’s a fan favorite and canon tells us he never married or had children (not officially).

Toph had a crush on him in childhood, and Sokka considered her his best friend, so it’s not impossible these two developed romantic feelings down the line, especially if Sokka’s long-time squeeze Suki was out of the picture. Suki doesn’t seem to be around for unknown reasons in LOK.

Suyin has a noticeably swarthy complexion compared to her mother or sister, which many credit to Sokka.

Her more light-hearted and free-spirited personality compared to Lin is also cited as potentially coming from Sokka.

AGAINST: Sokka is absent from Lin and Suyin lives in flashbacks. Even though we see he still works with Toph well into adulthood and there doesn’t seem to be any bad blood between them.

After losing his own mother and his father being absent due to the war for most of his childhood, it seems unlikely that Sokka wouldn’t be present in his child’s life.

Some fans argue that perhaps Sokka didn’t know Suyin was his daughter, but considering that Sokka and Toph stayed close friends and worked together into adulthood, it’s hard to believe that brilliant detective Sokka wouldn’t have put it together. Unless Toph went out of her way to deceive Sokka, but given their positive relationship it seems out of character for Toph to deprive Sokka of his own child and vice verse.

CONCLUSION: Unlikely.

Unless more information comes out to explain what reasons there could’ve been to keep Sokka away from the girls, this theory falls apart. There just isn’t enough evidence to support both him and Toph acting so bizarrely unlike themselves

Bachelor #2: Satoru

Satoru was an engineer and industrialist who worked for the Earthen Fire Refinery. Lao Beifong (Toph’s dad) left him in charge after Satoru’s corrupt Uncle had a change of heart and resigned.

Satoru is kind and naive to a fault. He has an “adorkable” quality about him and is a HUGE Toph fan.

FOR: Toph became co-executive-partners for Earthen Fire Refinery with Satoru, and although we never saw them progress to a relationship, there was clear mutual attraction.

Satoru admired Toph greatly and advocated for her against his bosses; his Uncle and Toph’s father.

He has wavy hair that resembles Suyin’s.

Works with metal. Zaofu is made of metal. That’s about it.

AGAINST: There isn’t a whole lot to go off of. Satoru isn’t even mentioned by Toph when he isn’t around, and despite her strong interest in him in The Rift story, in Imbalance Toph seems more interested in Sokka, indicating she may have moved back to her initial crush.

Satoru’s naïveté and capitalist employment practices inadvertently served as a catalyst for the bender supremacy movement in the colonies. Womp womp.

Neither he nor Toph has Suyin’s tanned complexion. So where did it come from?

CONCLUSION: Possible

Satoru’s presence is so vague that it’s hard to make a case for him other than a case from exclusion. There aren’t any huge issues disqualifying him, but neither is there much to support him over other candidates.

Bachelor #3: Sun

Sun was a street urchin and prodigy lava bender competing in underground fighting tournaments until Toph plucked him from obscurity and made him her student.

FOR: The resemblance. He’s swarthy, he has a similar smirk and distaste for authority, and is a young prodigy bender.

His distaste for authority and rebellious spirit make him a suitable match for Toph, especially if she was trying to reconnect with her old self by then.

He was a wild spirit and not fan of Aang and the group due to perceiving them as being subservient to the Earth King. This makes a case for why Toph may not have told anyone he was the father, and is more justified than hiding it from Sokka if he were the dad.

He spent time with

Toph as her student, presumably.

AGAINST: Toph was police chief by then (I know, I hate it). If Sun remained a hooligan, they may not have still been compatible.

Sun is never mentioned outside of the one comic he appears in. Despite her initial fascination with him, Toph seems to have forgotten him.

There is no indication from what we saw that Toph’s fascination with him was in any way romantic, but rather she was intrigued by his bending abilities.

CONCLUSION: Possible

I personally find him the most likely candidate simple due to Suyin’s looks and personality. Sun and Toph not working out due to her job as a cop and him being an anti-authority hooligan could well explain why Toph doesn’t talk about Suyin’s father. Their relationship could’ve ended disastrously.

Sun may have also been a catalyst for Toph reflecting on what she had become and deciding to abandon her job as chief of police, deciding to instead go be a swamp with in retirement.

But this is all speculation.

Bachelor #4: Someone else!

A character we haven’t met and who hasn’t been named.

FOR: We have no information so it could be anyone.

AGAINST: Why name-drop Lin’s dad and not Suyin’s unless there’s reason to hide it?

CONCLUSION: Possible. But why?

The most boring possibility.

Bachelor #5: Kanto

FOR: He’s the only canon relationship for Toph we’ve had confirmed.

AGAINST: It’s been stated clearly that Lin had a different father from Suyin, and there isn’t a good reason to suspect Toph is lying.

CONCLUSION: Unlikely.

That’s about it for Suyin. So let’s get into her older sister.

—

Lin Beifong

The GOAT and the most unfairly disrespected character in LOK.

Bachelor #1: Sokka Again

He really was a rizz-bender in the end… FOR: Same reasons. Fan favorite. Him and Toph are BFFs for life.

Older Lin has a hairline very similar to Katara’s. Could that be a sign of Sokka’s genes?

AGAINST: Same reasons. Why would Sokka not be involved in her life? Why would Toph lie about him?

Even worse, Lin was in a serious relationship with Tenzin for years. They were even engaged at one point. Seeing as Tenzin is Sokka’s nephew, if he were Lin’s father it would’ve made Lin and Tenzin first cousins. I doubt Toph would’ve hidden her child’s parentage to the point she would allow incest.

CONCLUSION: Impossible.

For all of our sanity, let’s not make kissing-cousins a thing in Avatar.

As Sokka would say, “MAJOR OOGIE!”

Bachelor #2: Satoru

FOR: Same reasons as Suyin

The hair resemblance is still there, but there’s no longer the issue of skin tone. Satoru is a similar complexion.

AGAINST: Why would Toph lie about Lin’s father being named Kanto? Unless there was a falling out we’ve never heard about.

Toph just didn’t seem to be that into Satoru after their initial appearance, and she never brings him up outside of dealing with the company.

CONCLUSION: Possible

Probably the most likely candidate at this time, though the Kanto question is still an odd curveball.

Bachelor #3: Sun

FOR: Same reasons as Suyin.

Sun and Lin’s hair have some similarity.

AGAINST: Same reasons as Suyin x10.

Toph would‘ve been at the height of her role as police chief. Not exactly a great time to be having affairs with hooligans who oppose authority. (Unless maybe Bryke wants to decanonize Toph becoming a cop? Pretty please? Hey, I can dream!)

CONCLUSION: Unlikely

Although Sun has more reason for Toph to lie about Lin’s parentage and throw out the made-up name “Kanto”, there just isn’t enough to support the idea, especially given how strict and serious Lin’s personality can be compared to her sister.

Bachelor #4: Kanto

FOR: Toph said Lin’s dad was a nice guy named Kanto but that it didn’t work out between them. We’ve been given no concrete reason to believe Toph was being deceptive.

That’s about it.

AGAINST: Who?

Seriously, not even a flashback or a picture? No one else ever mentions him? Sus. Even Asami’s mom got a character design.

CONCLUSION: Possible

It could just be some rando named Kanto no one stayed in contact with.

Anti-climactic but sometimes life be like that.

Bachelor #5: Zuko

Yeah. That Zuko. Fire Lord Zuko. Son of Ursa and Ozai. Great grandson of Roku. The Blue Spirit. Aka the fandom bicycle.

Buckle up. This one is a doozy.

FOR: Politically it’s a smart match. Zuko has to make amends with the Earth Kingdom. Political marriages were a common tool to broker peace between nations. Toph is EK nobility from the fine house of Beifong and would be an ideal candidate.

Toph has the capacity to be a refined Lady and hold court, she just chooses not to.

Toph has a built-in perfect response anytime Zuko starts to spiral about his scar. “Looks fine to me!” She’s the only person who has never seen it and doesn’t associate him with a scar upon mention.

Toph seems to have a small crush by the end of Book 3, insisting on going on a field trip with him and glomping onto him. In the comics, she roots for Zuko over Sokka in a sword match, indicating she may have transferred her crush from Sokka to Zuko.

Iroh would be all for it. He loves Toph. He even calls them a perfect match for each other in Legacy of the Fire Nation.

Mai dumped Zuko in The Promise and as of yet they haven’t gotten back together.

Toph and Zuko are depicted standing under twin doves together during their field trip. One of the doves even has a black spot where Zuko’s scar is, making it clear these doves represent him and Toph. Doves are a sign of eternal love. And just as Zuko walks away from Toph in this scene, the doves kiss. Perhaps a sign of their future?

Zuko and Toph both left abusive homes due to the Avatar. Zuko was banished and sent to chase Aang, while Toph ran away from her stifling home to teach Aang. Parallels.

Both act tough as nails but have a sensitive heart that can’t handle rejection.

Izumi and Lin look quite similar. Izumi has glasses (vision problems, like Toph) and Lin has a prominent facial scar (like Zuko). Were these intentional choices to tie them to their respective parents?

Zuko and Lin have facial similarities, and Izumi shares some with Toph’s mom Poppy.

AGAINST: While it’s easy to make a case for Toph crushing on Zuko, there is no evidence that Zuko has ever returned such feelings. He never even says her name for the entire show.

Toph claims he still owes her a life-changing field trip in old age, implying they didn’t get one.

That would’ve made Toph Fire Lady, even temporarily, and it seems like SOMEONE would’ve mentioned that! Kind of a big detail to leave out!

Zuko shows no interest in Lin. Then again he doesn’t show interest in Izumi either, so who knows?

All evidence is circumstantial at best.

CONCLUSION: Crack but compelling

I love everything about this theory but personal biases aside it’s just pure crack.

Still, I’ll leave you with this: It gives a good reason for Toph to lie about Lin’s parentage. And Kanto can be written as “冠都” which means “crown capital”.

—

You’ve heard the evidence! So you decide!

#avatar the last airbender #atla #avatar #Toph beifong #lin beifong #suyin beifong #tokka #toko #zutoph #kanto

[cheerclaw]

Meet the OCs: Saltburn (she/her) - @nanistar

Saltburn is a laid back, relaxed senior warrior who lives in SaguaroClan, one of the three friendly Clans of the sunny Mojave desert. She is a bit odd, having a bald patch on her nose, and extra sensitive eyes that keep her from going out a lot during the day, but she remains cheerful. She loves her MarshClan mate Hollowspur and her best friend, the SaguaroClan healer Silversky. Little does she know, she is actually a lost child of Bonestar, the leader of MoonClan; a long forgotten Clan that was banished to the nearby abandoned copper mine over 100 years ago….

Mothsight the Watcher (he/she/they) - @sp1resong

Mothsight is a warrior of RotClan, having joined alongside her best friend Mushroompelt when they were both six moons old. He is a protagonist of The Poison Beneath (@thepoisonbeneath), which I am once again shamelessly plugging [here be MANY spoilers btw if you don't want those uh. don't read further] They are, more than anything else, curious. No amount of knowledge is enough. She'd throw herself headfirst into a dark pit just to see what was at the bottom--actually, he kind of does do that! though he first enters the Labyrinth (df equivalent) alongside Mushroompelt while searching for the latter's missing partner Jonny, she quickly develops a… fascination with the place and with its nature. Their curiosity draws the attention of Darnerstare the Clarity, one of the Labyrinth's Centers (most powerful spirits, who work alongside Sporefall the Decay as sort of secondary leaders), who begins to walk in Mothsight's dreams. The Clarity, as the Labyrinth's resident Eye Imagery and Knowledge Guy, offers to give Mothsight the knowledge, the /clarity/ he seeks. Though she is at first hesitant (they are curious, not stupid), they ultimately agree when the Clarity shows him just how much he stood to gain--notably, the power to wander the territory and visit the Labyrinth in her sleep, and the ability to walk in others' dreams. The cost--relying on the Clarity to sustain them--was great, but worth it, they reasoned, and they took on the role of his host, and the title of Watcher. after Mushroompelt-as-the-Catalyst breaks the seals on the Labyrinth (long story), it is Mothsight who undergoes the most drastic physical changes, getting a solid two new eyeballs. . okay i almost said diversity win i'm not sure if that's what i meant there regardless, with the boundaries between dreams and waking thoroughly blurred and the source of their power unconstrained, Mothsight grows WAY more powerful. actually, she in all honesty doesn't want the 'apocalypse' to end! but everyone else is suffering and though he's undergone a sort-of corruption arc he's not That bad. now, there aren't many choices here. Icarus says that they need to destroy the Labyrinth, freeing the trapped spirits (it was the fact that they were within the Labyrinth and unable to decay and join the Forever Free [StarClan equivalent] that angered them so, after all), but this would destroy Mothsight's power--and, in all likelihood, kill her. Mothsight instead develops a plan to seal the Labyrinth away again without destroying it, which would save her life and power /but/ doom the trapped spirits to be bound forever--or, not forever, which is part of the problem! the Labyrinth's escape would be all but an inevitability, it'd just put it off for some generations more so that /these/ cats don't have to deal with it. still, this is the plan that most agree to--except for Icarus. Icarus goes behind the others' back and, within a sort-of-dream, attempts to sacrifice his own life setting fire to the peat bogs in their entirety (largely a symbolic thing, not literal. although the dying is literal). Mothsight, however, walks in his dreams and catches him in the act. there's a confrontation, it's very emotional, blah blah blah. anyways they both die. i'm too tired to explain this in a fancy way sorry theyre just fucking died also they're canonically aroace. diversity win!

[Back to the grade]

#cheer wcoct 2

[journalofanoldsoul]

Hard Aspects Positive Influence (Synastry Chart)

Squares and Oppositions are not always bad in a synastry chart. While they can bring about tension and challenges, they can also provide opportunities for growth, learning, and creating a dynamic and stimulating relationship.

Here are some examples of when square and opposition aspects can contribute to a positive dynamic in a relationship:

Square and Opposition for Balance: Square and opposition aspects can create a complementary balance between partners. For example, if one partner's Sun squares the other partner's Moon, there may be initial clashes in how they express themselves and their emotions. However, through open communication and understanding, they can learn to balance and integrate their different energies, leading to a deeper understanding and appreciation of each other's perspectives.

Growth through Challenge: Square and opposition aspects can act as catalysts for personal growth and transformation. When partners have square or opposition aspects involving their personal planets (Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus, Mars), they may push each other out of their comfort zones, encouraging personal development and pushing each other to overcome limitations. This can lead to mutual support and growth in the relationship.

Mutual Learning and Awareness: Square and opposition aspects can highlight areas where partners can learn from each other. For example, if one partner's Venus opposes the other partner's Uranus, there may be differences in values and approach to relationships. However, this aspect can also bring excitement, innovation, and the opportunity to broaden each other's perspectives and embrace new experiences.

Energizing and Passionate Dynamic: Square and opposition aspects can create a sense of friction and passion in the relationship. For instance, if one partner's Mars squares the other partner's Pluto, there can be intense sexual attraction and a powerful drive to accomplish goals together. This aspect can generate a dynamic and passionate energy that fuels the relationship and drives both partners to reach new heights.

Balancing Strengths and Weaknesses: Square and opposition aspects can help partners balance their strengths and weaknesses. If one partner's Sun opposes the other partner's Saturn, there may be a contrast in how they express their individuality and approach responsibility. Through patience, compromise, and mutual support, they can learn to embrace each other's strengths and compensate for each other's weaknesses, creating a harmonious and supportive partnership.

Remember, the key to navigating square and opposition aspects is open communication, understanding, and a willingness to grow together. With conscious awareness and a positive attitude, these aspects can contribute to a dynamic and fulfilling relationship.

Stay tune for more astro posts…

xoxo

J.

#astro posts #astrology posts #astro community #astrology #astro placements #astrology notes #astro notes #astrology community #horoscope #synastry notes #synastry #synastry observations #synastry reading #synastry chart #astrology aspects #sun saturn aspects #couple dynamics #relationship astrology #mars pluto aspects #venus uranus aspects #sun moon aspects #synastry aspects #synastry astrology

[punksocks]

Astrology Observations Pt. 5

Only based of my personal experiences, take them with a grain of salt!

Virgo and Pisces are opposites with the shared ability of perception. Virgos will observe and pick up details to make keen observations and Pisces tend to have very good intuition and very keen emotional instincts.

Aquarius moons can be distant. They express their connections in a more aloof way. Like Capricorn moons, I believe this is usually the catalyst to a lesson on learning how to be more warm and emotionally connected to those around you in a way those people feel throughout your life.

Lilith/Pluto overlays in synastry can make relationships feel intense, passionate and taboo.

Mars overlays can also bring an element of intense chemistry to a relationship without the taboo feeling.

6th house Saturn, the littlest changes can totally upend your health. Be careful trying that new moisturizer or an exercise you’ve never done before. (I broke out in hives and got knocked back for weeks because my partner tried a new moisturizer for 2 days. Wild, thanks Saturn)

Scorpio moons can be the most caring people you know when developed and the most callous manipulative people you’ve ever met when undeveloped.

I’m thinking about making character astrology posts. Zuko from avatar is a total Capricorn and honestly his character arch taught me a lot about myself

#astro observations #astroblr #astro community #astro notes #astro placements #rising sign #aquarius #lilith #Virgo #pisces

[imakatperson22]

Another hot take from me:

I actually didn’t have a problem with the sperm donor storyline, in theory. I don’t really care that it was weird or out of left field. I didn’t even really care that the show went out of its way to discuss people’s attitudes towards sperm donation. It was the execution that made it flop so hard. They forgot to develop Buck’s character at all with it.

We could’ve gotten a whole arc about how being a sperm donor and participating in creating a new life dug up how Buck feels about fatherhood in general. It should’ve been a catalyst for Buck exploring what kind of father he thinks he would be, if fatherhood scares him because of his trauma with his own parents, how much he wants to be a father if at all, and if he does, how does he want to approach achieving that goal? We could’ve seen him going to Bobby, Eddie, and chimney seeking out what fatherhood means/looks like to each of them and the different nuances in perspective from their VERY different parenting journeys.

Imagine if we got all of that, and Buck decided “Yes, I do want kids,” and it helped push him off the hamster wheel of relationship churning because now what he’s looking for in a partner is how they also feel about kids and how he thinks of them as a parent too. He becomes more discerning with who he dates because now he’s not just looking for someone, anyone, to project intimacy on but to actually find someone he can settle down with.

But instead we got Natalia, I guess…

#911 abc #911 #911 on abc #evan buckley #911 theories #911 show #911 season 6 #911 speculation #evan buck buckely #tim minear #kristen reidel #please let me write for this show I have so much to say lol

[yelena-bellova]

The First You - Joel Miller x F!Reader

Plot: Soldiers don’t start out scarred, there was softness once where bitterness now lives.

Word Count: 753

Warnings: one curse word, too angsty to be fluff, lil’ spoon Joel

A/N: Had zero intention for writing anything TLOU related, seeing as I have zero knowledge of it���but fucking Joel Miller’s living in my brain so I figured I’d put it to good use. Wrote this in about 30 minutes, might delete this in the morning depending on how I feel.

————————

The ache in my bones belonged to someone older.

I considered the pointless thought as I turned my key in the door, rubbing my shoulder with my free hand. Double shifts were going to permanently alter my posture. But the longer I worked, the less time I had to think about how everything around me had gone to complete and utter shit.

The smell of whiskey permeated my senses as soon as I entered. A sign that things had been particularly bad today. Usually he’d wait for me to being drowning our memories. I swiped my finger across the kitchen table, picking up a stray morsel of a pill. Something had triggered this.

I almost didn’t want to look across to the bed, knowing what I’d see. In a world where everyone was at their peak point of suffering, he somehow made mine worse. The knots in my stomach, the pain in my chest, the fear lighting up every one of my nerves. Was love supposed to feel like this? Or had the Cordyceps infected that too?

Working up the strength, I turned around and saw Joel, in a dead sleep that couldn’t be achieved without chemical aide. I took calculated steps, avoiding the floorboards I knew creaked. Getting a closer look, I waited for the worry wrinkles in his forehead to disappear. People were supposed to find peace when they slept. Or maybe they were twenty years ago. Joel looked as hardened as he was when he was conscious.

Twenty years. Joel didn’t speak of his life straightforwardly. It happened more in passing and involuntarily. His knowledge of construction came out when we’d slip in and out through the skeleton of a building. His love of music peeked its head out when a signal would come through the radio. His foot would let out a single tap. Never more. And I’d figured out what food he’d liked by which meals he ate the quickest. Decoding him was both a hobby and a religion.

I sat down on the bed, biting back a groan as my muscles screamed. Working extra was good in the moment, horrible in the long run. I felt Joel stir behind me and as quick as I could, which wasn’t very fast at all, I gently rolled him onto his side. He was so far gone, he didn’t fight at all. The pills were in full effect.

I wrapped an arm around him, taking in the warmth of his body. His frame was solid, developed from years of manual labor and later, brutal confrontations. His clothes smelled of sweat and smoke, telling where he’d worked in the afternoon. I wiggled up on the bed and pressed my nose to the back of his neck, searching out any part that just smelled like him. As soon as our skin touched, I felt Joel shift his arm to sleepily grab my hand. That was the catalyst to let my thoughts wander all the places I stayed away from…

Had he slept in on Saturday mornings? Did he watch football? Were the Cowboys his team? Had he ever wanted to see the world, or was Austin enough for him? What games did he and Tommy play as kids? What was his favorite color? Had he celebrated his birthday, or gruffly brushed it off? What kind of guy was he in high school?

What kind of father had he been? Had he played Barbies? Attended tea parties? Painted a bedroom pink? Made pancakes into shapes? Watched weekend cartoons? Eyed any boy that looked his daughter’s way?

What kind of partner had he been? Was he romantic? Spontaneous? Did he do the whole candlelit dinner thing or had he liked cooking at home? Had his kisses once been soft and tender? Had he taken his time instead of urgent because how much time could truly be left? Did he like to go dancing or did he just randomly grab his girl’s waist and sway in the kitchen? Did his brown eyes light up when his love entered the room? Had they ever been filled with anything other than pain deep enough to have put down permanent roots in his heart?

Who was the man I could have had?

It didn’t matter, I told myself as a tear fell, it really didn’t. I’d have taken Joel any way I could have him. His strength, his resilience, his heart…I wanted it all. But that didn’t stop my heart from knowing he deserved better. We deserved better.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller imagine

[gingerylangylang1979]

Carmy is a problematic fuck boi who doesn't deserve Sydney at the moment. But look at how Rick and Michonne turned out.

I really actually don't begrudge anyone who questions Carmy's worthiness of Sydney, shipper or not. Like, I get it. I was ready to drop his ass so many times both seasons. But... this is how these stories go. If you have a traumatized leading man, he's going to make you give him side-eye, you're going to think he's not made for love, and as much as I hate it, you are going to see him be a raging dick and disappointment to the woman he loves... until, he isn't. This isn't me excusing good women being with bad men. This is me explaining the trope of a good men, acting bad, who becomes a good man, acting good, because this woman inspires his transformation. Please note, I didn't say fix. She doesn't do the work for him, she is the catalyst for him deciding to change and she will support him and check him along the way and he will be what she needs in time. That's just how this works folks.

When Rick first meets Michonne, he doesn't even think she's real. His wife just died, a woman who left him with a baby fathered by his best friend, who he had to kill before he killed him. He's delusional, distrustful, hopeless. He sees this woman in the distance who is in dire need and despite his trauma, his instinct is to bring her in. Once in camp, he inspects her in the most intimate way, a way that is way over the top. He is already drawn to touch her. Once she is conscious again he is suspicious, he says he wants her gone, he sets up scenarios that should drive her away... yet, whenever she is gone he freaks out. He will welcome her back each time.

My favorite is when he literally has her at gunpoint because he just made up that she is a threat, and he takes her sword, disarms her, but he still welcomes her back. He just doesn't want her to be able to hurt him. Get it? And we know she's important to him, even if he doesn't admit it, because when their enemy demanded her in exchange for the safety of the rest of the camp, he wouldn't do it. I don't even think he knew why. But he couldn't do it. And even before he actually really knew her, he entrusted her with his most precious love, his child. And when she went out on her own mission, he was sad and worried. He was upset when she didn't need his help.

I could go on. But the point is he treated her like shit and then things slowly changed. By the time they became a couple he went off the rails quite a few times, had a love interest, etc. but the whole time, in the background, Michonne was becoming his partner not only in leadership, but in life. If she was ok, he was ok. If she wanted to make a move, he made the move. If he needed a second by his side, it was her no doubt. And Michonne could handle shit on her own, wanted to for a long time, but then through meeting Rick she decided to let someone in and wanted it, knew she wasn't whole without it. So by the time they became a couple, it was earned by both of them. The both had to change. But before that change, Rick was erratic, insane, often irrational, and he was sometimes that way with her, at one point mostly with her. But it changed. Because that is growth, that is character development, that is good storytelling.

So, when I see Carmy still struggling so hard and Syd struggling so hard at his side, because of him, I remember that this is that kind of love story. It's a love story seeded in the midst of chaos, uncertainty, distrust, but also an undeniable pull to each other that is at times inexplicable, questionable, but fated in a way only two broken people can be. They aren't going to have the kind of love story where he is a perfect prince from day one or his progress is linear. And that makes it better because look at what happened with Richonne. They became co-leaders, family, lovers. It's possible. So, I'm going to continue to be patient with Carmy Bear and see where this goes.

#carmy x sydney #richonne

[moonah-rose]

Always get a bit frustrated whenever I see a comment on a kitty-edit that's like "Oh Kitty had such a sad childhood, but at least she has the Captain now."

Don't get me wrong, I love their relationship, it's adorable, he is definitely her dad as evident by how she views him as such in flashbacks the same way Alison is her sister.

But I feel like people forget that their relationship is actually fairly new? She outright says in the first series that she does not like him and that he's only got worse since Alison arrived. It's not until S3 they start to warm to each other and what makes it work so beautifully is how it coincides with Cap becoming more true to his (fabulous) self, rather than trying to be the bossy soldier. Basically he fits the mould of her real father, both good and bad, but the more he subconsciously reminds her of how cold and strict her father could be, rather than his sweeter moments, the less she wants to be around him. When he starts to let his real self show and become more the man she wishes her dad had been is when that bond starts to form. That's what I find interesting about them.

However the suggestion that Cap is the only one to care for her or even the one who cares the most I feel does a real disservice to the other ghosts. They all absolutely adore her in their own way.

Her friendship with Mary was adorable and I love how protective Mary was of her even before Kitty died, insulting her father for ruining her fun, then standing up for her when she stood up for Cap, them gushing over things together like the rice krispies and the snow globe, making up their inventory song, Mary comforting Kitty at the party and putting her to bed. How heartbroken Kitty was at losing her and desperate to believe she would come back.

Every scene she and Pat have together, him being her dance partner but also him being the one to take on trying to explain death to her and doing as a parent would, how he probably did the first time Daley had to deal with death, it's just so relatable how he didn't want to be harsh but needing to be honest.

Julian calling her a "dear, sweet thing", him being the only one to attempt to explain to her how baby's are made (graphic and disturbing as it was), how he's ready to tell her the truth about Santa but as soon as he's sees the look on her face it's enough to melt his Tory heart is the peak Christmassy scene of that episode for me.

Thomas hugging her at the panto (one of only two hugs we get in this show!) and being so grateful for having her as his manager, how gentle he is when he asks to inspect her hands for the spider bite.

Robin knowing her pregnancy shtick is nonsense but going along with it like a brother being roped into his kid sister's make believe, rubbing her feet for her and sitting with her most of the day, him leaving a party that he loves to take moment to encourage her to cry her feelings out and then helping Mary put her to bed, how she only has to call his name and he's jumping in to scare off the plaguers.

Everything with her and Humphey! How she's the one who is the most concerned about where he is and making sure he's in one piece so he's not left behind, these two have the most adorable Uncle and Niece vibes.

Fanny is the only one I feel the show let slide on having her bond with, I think the most progression they have is Fanny praising Kitty's speaking in S4. Kinda miffed about this one because without Mary and with Alison gone, they're the only girls left and it would have been nice if they'd developed a mother-daughter bond.

Last but not least her and Alison! Their relationship is so important to S3 and how it contrasts to Alison's storyline with Lucy. Even though Lucy turns out to be a fake, it's still a good show of the importance of found family as much as blood family, how Kitty is jealous at first but then becomes the catalyst for figuring out who Lucy really is and protecting Alison from being scammed. It's such an important arc for her character that gets sadly forgotten, how she's not smug with joy that Lucy is gone at the end but just expresses sympathy for Alison losing the sister she never had. "You're the sister I never had" was the line that I first choked up at in this show. Also props to Kitty for literally annoying someone into being a true. best friend, she gives the rest of us losers hope!

Overall just how lucky Kitty is at the end of the day, that yes she had this privileged but ultimately toxic upbringing and died very young - but now she's surrounded by these people who absolutely adore her and might not always cope with it the right way but they just want to protect her because she is so sweet and endearing. If I could add any scene to the finale I feel like Alison should have got to have one talk with Kitty where she assures her that yeah they'll be apart but she's always at the end of the phone and will visit often, but also assuring her that she still has SEVEN people who love her to bits which is more than a lot of us get.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts meta #kitty higham #found family

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

Rpg Anon: For the Bingo: Hinazumi, Soudaionji, Togahina, Naegiri, Fuyupeko, Tokomaru, Soruko, Saimatsu, Tsumioda, and everything. Yeah that's right. I'm throwing all the ships at ya.

//Aight, that's fair. Might as well get it out of the way.

//I really do wish that Mahiru was a more integral character to DR2's plot, because her interactions with Hajime in the Free Time Events are probably the cutest the game has to offer. Originally I was more of a Hinanami fan, and honestly I still am, but I've been corrupted by these two.

//Mahiru and Hajime are perfect catalysts for each other's character development, since one counters the others past trauma. Being someone who's just a meer photographer, Mahiru also has the potential to relate to Hajime more as a talentless individual.

//Ship is hella underrated, it needs more love.

//Outside of Survivor, I'm not CRAZY about this pair, and honestly, the only place I can think of it starting from is that one manga where Usami creates a Japanese festival and they have a bonding moment.

//It's kind of like a Nagatoro/Senpai relationship where the girl mercilessly bullies the boy because she likes him, and with these two, I can get behind that.

//Especially because of how much opposites attract. Hiyoko has a graceful design but a less than graceful personality, wheras Kazuichi is an honestly nice guy but looks and acts pathetic. There is potential there, but due to it being such a meager and not-well established ship, it lacks the fanbase movement to make it worth it.

//I didn't write down romantically or platonically on this one because the basic pair can go either way. This pairing is basically the definition of that high-school movie couple that's the pompous rich girl and the jock, except the gender roles are reversed, and honestly, I think that's pretty funny.

//Hina and Byakuya's progressions from adversaries to friends in DR1 and DR3 is actually pretty fun and natural, and the idea of Byakuya softening up around his classmates is one that I can more than get behind. Hina being the catalyst for it is also perfect.

//I kind of wish more people talked about this one.

//Don't think anyone's gonna argue with me for holding Naegiri in high regard. Makoto is the character who I have the MOST ships with, because I also think Sayaka and Mukuro make for amazing partners, but because Kyoko has spent the most time bonding with

//They have this theme where they can bring out themselves in each other to help balance out where their characters lean. Makoto is usually optimistic and wistful, but Kyoko can help bring him back down to earth and make him face reality if he ends up in a tizz. Alternatively, Makoto's optimism breaks Kyoko's ordinarily stone-cold expression, and it's shown in DR3 that she's gotten to the point that she is unashamed to speak highly of Makoto, because she's come to respect him and value him as a friend, something she would not have done in early DR1.

//They make each other the best versions of themselves and that's all a good relationship needs. Plus, the cool girl and lame boy dynamic is rarely ever not fun.

//These two got married after DR2 happened and nobody can tell me otherwise.

//Honestly though, as cute as I think Kuzupeko is, their actual canon relationship is kind of toxic. I know that's the point, but I like to think that Peko works herself out of that horrid mindset of being Fuyuhiko's servant and nothing else once she realizes how much he really loves her, not just romantically, but as a friend.

//Peko's also pretty good for Fuyuhiko's health. Even before any relationship upgrades I imagine he always vents to her about stupid shit because he can't trust anyone else with it, and thinking about that makes me realize how much they trust each other. They deserve one another, and no one else should have them.

//What I find most hilarious about Tokomaru is that it's basically just Naegiri with baggage. Rather, MORE baggage. Also, lots more screen time and room for development, since UDG is basically ABOUT these two and outside of every horrible thing that game brought, this relationship was not one of them.

//Like her brother, Komaru can be easily overwhelmed, emotional and sometimes too optimistic for her own good, and Toko helps mediate this with her more cynical and realistic personality. In turn, Komaru's more ordinary high school girl nature and her own quirks as a character suit Toko well, normalizing HER fucked up writing and bringing out the human side that she SERIOUSLY lacked in DR1.

//Speaking from the heart, I actually think these two are my current favourite couple in DR Survivor. I already talked in a previous post how writing Toko is one of the most fun and engaging things I've ever done, and I'm proud to see the natural progression of this pair and how far they've come together. If only DR weren't cowards and made them canonical lesbian lovers.

//WHERE IS UDG2 GOD DAMMIT!?

//Soruko is a pair that I love, but I have a hard time writing because Sora can sometimes be a MASSIVE DICK to her wife. Not that she means it, but sometimes I feel like I inadvertently make Sora this big dick energy monster who wants dominance over Yoru, and that's NOT what these two are.

//I get why they don't want to just write proper ships in even the fangames, but these two had such an intense amount of sexual tension between them for most of Another 2, and the way their stories end is frankly tragic and bittersweet.

//I have LOTS of problems with Another 2, really, I do. But these two were one of the things that actually drew me into the game. I think they should have kissed at least

//This is my favourite ship in canon and has been so since the dawn of time. It takes aspects from all the other relationships in Danganronpa I love and meshes them together in a sweet romantic lasagna.

//My biggest GRIPE is how little we got to actually SEE of these two, and the fact that whatever romantic scenes we get of them are called forced by a majority of the fandom. And I will admit, stories like Three-Point Shot and others like it portray Saimatsu in a much better way than the main series does. But the potential is unmatched.

//Like Tokomaru and Naegiri, one is an optimistic girl who is given reality checks by the more serious boy, who also has clear past trauma and depression that is quelled by the optimistic girl. It's the PERFECT healthy dynamic, and the good thing about it is that neither Kaede nor Shuichi are ever portrayed as perfect protagonists. In fact, they perfectly cover for the other's flaws to help sustain that balance. Their designs reflect this as well with Kaede's faded but colors being the basic reverse pallete of Shuichi's darker ones. Even as one of Shuichi's more well established ships, these two deserve more attention.

//Ooooooh fuuuuuck...I have a LOT to say about this one...

//This is probably my favorite ship in the series, possibly only beaten by Saimatsu. More people need to talk about this pair, it's frankly the best that the both of them can find among whatever pairings they might have.

//They have basically no interactions in the games and I think that's REALLY sad actually, because their dynamic of the emotionally strong girl and the emotionally frail girl has potential that just isn't explored, when it SHOULD be. Especially considering that Ibuki is probably the only character who can definitively FIX what's wrong with Mikan.

//Ibuki's entire Free Time Event storyline is all about her being herself, but also subtly helping Hajime overcome his fears and insecurities as a person by naturally taking his mind off them to have fun, and this really does help Hajime. If ANYONE needs therapy like that, it's Mikan. And Ibuki is just so naturally optimistic and charismatic, even Mikan should be able to see that nothing Ibuki does is foreplay or taking advantage of her.

//LET THESE TWO BE A THING!

-Mod

#mod #danganronpa #danganronpa survivor #bingo #naegiri #tokomaru #saimatsu #hinazumi #soudaionji #togahina #tsumioda #soruko #kuzupeko

[mischiefmaven]

Intuitive women as romantic catalysts in Heartstopper

“There are very few of us who have heart enough to be really in love without encouragement.” - Charlotte Lucas in Pride & Prejudice 

In the earliest stages of their developing relationship, represented in the show by episodes 1 through 3, Nick and Charlie navigate the uncertainty of their feelings and attraction. They struggle for vastly different reasons, but each of them gets guidance, sometimes unconsciously given, from intuitive women in their lives. Sarah Nelson, Imogen, Tori, and Tara play important—and very different—roles in bringing Nick and Charlie together. 

The women 

With an offhand comment in episode 2, Sarah Nelson is the first woman in Nick’s life to serve as a catalyst to his eventual relationship with Charlie.

S: He’s very different to your other friends, isn’t he? You seem much more yourself around him. 

N: Do I? 

S: You do. 

N: Oh…

Her observation has an effect on Nick, and in his furrowed brow that melts into a secret smile, we see validation and maybe even relief. Charlie is different and special, and the person who knows him best of all can sense it, sense that Charlie is good for him, and will allow him to be who is really is. For Nick, who is used to relatively shallow interactions with his peers, it reinforces and legitimizes the possibility of emotional intimacy with Charlie.

The very next scene brings us our second intuitive woman for Nick: Imogen. Enjoying the memory of their snow day together, Nick starts a message to Charlie asking to hang out again. Imogen sees Nick’s infatuated smile and starts teasing him about slipping into someone’s DMs to flirt. Although in the short term Imogen stops Nick from messaging Charlie, her reference to chirpsing shows she’s picking up on his attraction, something Nick is barely ready to admit to himself. It frames his feelings in a light that his mom’s comment didn’t. It confuses him, but it ultimately prompts an important shift in Nick’s thinking: is what he’s feeling more than friendship?

It’s worth noting that Imogen is also aware of the change in Nick after the kiss at Harry’s party. (To be fair, never has there been a worse poker face from a smitten person than Nick Nelson’s.) But she knows something is up with him, even if she can’t place it. I love Imogen because I think she’s quite complex for a relatively minor character: she’s so in tune with Nick’s emotional states at times, but also very much blind to his ambivalence when it comes to his feelings toward her. She’s so human (and played so beautifully by Rhea Norwood). 

Of course Tori is on this list for her absolutely iconic “I don’t think he’s straight” moment. Tori sees and knows all, and her matter-of-fact take on their hug gives Charlie real hope when everyone else is telling him to get over Nick. It’s probably part of what makes him brave enough to ask Nick about his crush in the ballroom. 

Despite her memorable episode 2 comment, there’s a strong argument to be made that the bus scene in episode 1 is Tori’s first, and perhaps more important, catalyst moment. By prompting Charlie to talk about his dream guy, Tori makes Charlie articulate what he wants in a partner, even though he’s fairly sure his options are limited and he’ll have to settle. It’s a way to process what happened with Ben and avoid repeating it. Proximity and opportunity are not enough, and neither are empty physical interactions. Charlie craves compatibility and connection, and it’s important that these needs are in the back of his mind as he grows closer to Nick.

If Sarah and Imogen open the door for Nick specifically, Tara (with Darcy’s help) gives him a gentle nudge to walk through it (and later a safe space to process his sexuality). At Harry’s party, Tara comes out to Nick and demonstrates how to be your authentic self with the person you love. When Nick starts talking about Charlie, Tara has a hint of a knowing smile that I read as recognition that maybe there’s more going on than just sitting next to each other in form. She is probably more catalyst than intuitive influence, since she doesn’t know Nick or Charlie that well, but I’m including Tara here because she is still so crucial. 

It goes without saying that Tara and Darcy’s kiss on the dance floor is a pivotal moment for Nick. Much has been written about that scene, and I can’t do it justice here. But in giving Nick a safe space to talk about being queer and serving as a model for queer joy, Tara inspires Nick to find Charlie and not “hide as much anymore.”  

The non-catalyst intuitives: Isaac and Darcy

Despite his early claim that Nick is a ginormous heterosexual, Isaac senses that something is going on between Nick and Charlie early on, but I can’t quite pinpoint when. We first learn of it in episode 4, when Tao complains at lunchtime that Charlie is off with Nick.

I: Well, they’re in the honeymoon phase.

T: It’s not even like they’re dating!

I: Unless they are…

This hunch is confirmed later in the episode, when he walks in on a tender moment between Nick and Charlie after the match at St. John’s. Isaac is intuitive, but he prefers to be on the periphery, and opts out of the drama of his friend group—most of the time, anyway. Sometimes he will actively participate, such as when the boys ask Elle to find out if Tara likes Nick, or (in one of my favorite moments) when he kicks over the Monopoly board. More often than not, though, Isaac prefers to observe and participate with a well-placed chuckle or eye roll. We don’t see him mention his observations or suspicions to Charlie, and so he doesn’t serve as a catalyst for the development of Nick and Charlie’s relationship, even if he saw it all coming. 

Darcy falls into this camp as well. Her “gay intuition” tells her Nick and Charlie look “suspiciously couple-y,” but they are already secretly together by then. So she gets bragging rights later, but I can’t call her a catalyst. (And unlike Isaac, she is the drama of the friend group: I can’t wait for Paris!) 

It’s hard to imagine Nick and Charlie’s love story developing without the support and gentle nudges our boys get from Sarah, Imogen, Tori, and Tara. In Heartstopper, it takes a village to bring Nick and Charlie together, though my sentimental heart likes to think they would have gotten there eventually. 

#heartstopper #nick x charlie #charlie spring #nick nelson #imogen heartstopper #imogen heaney #tara jones #tori spring #tori knows all #isaac heartstopper #darcy olsson #meta #basically an English essay #sarah nelson

[dailykallura]

I'd like to expand on my nice little tiny cute thought about how Keith exists on the fringes of both of Allura's relationships and how he technically is instrumental to both of her relationships being started with Lotor and Lance and how that too, is kallura meta.

--

The events that take place between 4.07 and 6.01 kickstart the relationship between Allura and Lotor (in my opinion), since that is when and where they are both face to face, with explicit knowledge of what each other looks like and what they can do for each other. 

My idea is that Keith is instrumental to starting this relationship, primarily because in 5.04, during the Kral Zera, Lotor is at a risk of being gravely injured by the bombs placed all over the Temple, and Keith takes a shot and successfully rescues Lotor from the blast, further allowing him to take up the mantle as the new Galran Emperor. 

It’s this change in leadership that changes Lotor and Allura’s relationship from the vague “when I take control of the Empire” to the realistic development they had as diplomatic partners and then as romantic partners. 

Keith remains on the fringes of the relationship however, and has some measure of conflict with Lotor because of what he finds out about the hidden Alteans, and he is shown to be both the catalyst for its breakdown (by bringing back Romelle) --

-- and also acknowledge the possibility of salvaging the relationship Allura may have had with Lotor (by being the one to suggest them rescuing Lotor from the quintessence field).

I’ve joked about this so much in 2020, but regarding Lance in s8, Keith is instrumental to this relationship being started because of Lance’s insecurities re: Keith and Allura’s relationship: Lance doesn’t choose to make a solid move to Allura until he finds out that it’s popular opinion that Keith and Allura have a relationship (based on the cartoon, yes) - 

and unbeknownst to Keith, also still harbours insecurities that he’s unworthy to be with Allura. 

It’s Keith’s very kind reassurance that Allura is interested in him, and that Lance does have something to offer to any relationship he’s in that gives him the confidence to go through with the date - 

and with the offer of a relationship with Allura. 

Keith still exists on the fringes, however, as s8 (consistently) props Keith up as Allura’s support - 

and as such, he is shown to be the one that Lance speaks with regarding how he feels about Allura and her decisions\their relationship.

Kallura meta comes out of this primarily because it’s something to note that Keith and Allura are written to be similar in a multitude of things and also be written as not having a relationship past detached friends with some measure of tension - but also have Keith be central to Allura’s relationships like this.

TL;DR: Keith saved Lotor at the Kral Zera and Lotor became Emperor, leading to Allura and Lotor’s relationship; and Keith told Lance to go for Allura, leading to Allura and Lance’s relationship, and it’s because Keith is written as putting priority to what might make Allura happy.

#kallura #juniblade #keith x allura #allura x keith #dk.rtf #i know i said I was inactive (I still am) but I thought this was cohesive enough to publish #long post #i hope the fandom has been having fun :)

[taurussoulastrology]

Key Concepts to The Twelve House's

1st House- Ascendant

○Naturally associated with Aries and Mars.

●The lens in which we perceive the world thru.

●The focus we bring into our lives.

●The kinds of functions most valuable to discovering our own unique identities.

●How we meet life in general.

●The effect we have on others.

●The atmosphere of our early environment.

●Indications of our physical vitality and appearance.

●The facet of universal being that seeks to express itself through each of us.

2nd House

●Naturally associated with Taurus and Venus.

●The attachment of our identity to the body.

●Our innate wealth.

●Giving ourselves more definition, boundary, and shape.

●Money and material world.

●What we value.

●The desire - nature.

●Resources &/or attributes that give us a sense of value or self-worth.

3rd House

●Naturally associated with Gemini and Mercury

●Mental ego

●Development of language

●The ability to distinguish subject from object.

●Left brain processes

●Mental style

●Exploring immediate environment

●Naming and classifying things

●Relativity - how we compare to what is around us; how these things compare and relate to one another.

●The context of how we view the immediate environment.

●Siblings - the bond, what we project into them.

●Relatives - aunts, uncle, cousins.

●Neighbors

●Early school experience

●Writing, speaking, information exchange.

●Short trips

●Growing up years in general( ages7-14).

4th House, Imum Coeli

●Naturally associated with Cancer and the moon

●Integrating the mind, body, and feelings

●self-reflection of consciousness and assimilation of experiences from houses 1-3.

●maintaining the individual characteristics of the self

●What we find when we retreat back into ourselves.

●our inner base of operations.

●home

●what we're like in private

●ancestral roots

●the influence on us from family and origins.

●psychic ability to tap into the past

●empathy or intuition

●early home atmosphere and conditioning.

●qualities from our ethnic and ethnic origins.

●influence of the hidden parent.

●how we end things.

●conditions surrounding the end of life.

5th house

●Naturally associated with Leo and the Sun.

●wanting to distinguish ourselves as special or unique

●wanting to excitable our area of influence

●children

●sex

●play

● creative/artistic expression

●personal flair

●romance

●hobbies, sports, recreation, gambling, pleasures

●inner child

●having something revolve around us

●what our children are like or what we project onto them

6th House

●Naturally associated Mercury and Virgo

●health issues

●relationships of inequality

●Craftmanship, attention to detail

●body mind connection

●small animals

●daily routine, daily rituals, mundane activities

●discrimination and selectivity

●reducing things to parts (left brain activity)

●relationships to the hired help &/or employees

7th House-DC

●Naturally associated Venus and Libra

●connecting with others

●mutual commitment based relationships

●marriage or significant other

●open enemies

●what we project onto our partners

●the lower courts

●what we bring into relationships

●learning how to assert individuality into relationships (platonic, love, business)

8th House

●Naturally associated with Pluto, Mars, and Scorpio

●shared finances

●that which is shared between people

●inheritance, taxes, banking, investments

●destroying old and opening new ego boundaries

●taboo, occultism, supernatural, ability to tap into psychic energy

●Transforming raw, primordial energy

●death; physical and ego- identity(transformation)

●self-regeneration

●sharing resources with the planet

●relationships as catalysts for change

●Astral plane

●divorce

9th House

●Naturally associated with Jupiter and Sagittarius

●searching for meaning, purpose, direction

●the higher mind, intuitive thought processes, and workings(right brain)

●religious or spiritual styles

●philosophy

●long journey or foreign travel

●the god image

●symbol making capacity of the psyche

●codified systems of collective thought

●teaching, publishing, preaching, promotional work

●relationship to in laws

●possible indication of career

●what pulls is forward

●our view of life's journey

●higher education and journey of the mind

●higher courts

10th House - MC

●Naturally associated with Saturn and Capricorn

●integration of the self into society

●profession, vocation, or career

●status in life

●how we approach work

●needs for achievement or recognition or praise

●ambition

●the image of the shaping parent

●authority figures and government

●what we feel the world requires of us

●structures and systems

●atmospheric condition we encounter thru career

11th House

●Naturally associated with Uranus, Saturn, and Aquarius

●social reform and causes

●group consciousness and interconnectedness with all life

●hopes and dreams; goals & objectives

●friendships, circle and type of friends- how we behave with them

●sensitivities to new trends and currents in the atmosphere

●the urge to become something greater than we already are

●identifying with something larger than the self

12th House

●Naturally associated with Jupiter, Neptune, and Pisces

●wanting to return to original state of unity

●merging with something greater than the self

●dissolution of boundaries

●meditation/ prayer

●karma

●hidden enemies - external or internal

●the umbilical effect and life in the womb

●escapism

●what we feel may redeem us

●empathy, compassion, confusion, or nebulousness

●psychic abilities, access to the collective unconscious, mythic images

●beliefs, causes- spiritual or religious

●Delusions

●influences from things we don't remember

●energies which can sustain our undo us

●mental health

#ZodiacHouses #Astrology #AstrologyCommunity

#zodiac houses #astrology community #zodiac #astrology posts