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spacemilkies · 10 months

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Good Kitty

pairing: Earth—42!Miles Morales x BlackCat!Reader wc: 3k+ rating: teen a/n: another fandom, another trap. I plan for this to be a non-linear series. Feel free to send prompts for this pairing!

synopsis:

Spider-man? Never heard of him. You were Black Cat. And what you did know was that it was never a good idea to leave a world in a man's hands.

A sigh escapes your lips, a sound not born out of exhaustion but rather from the depths of sheer boredom as you shifted your weight and rolled onto your side. The warm rays of the setting sun spilled through the window, enveloping you in a soft, golden embrace. If only you had chosen to cast your gaze outward, you would have been met with a rare spectacle—a breathtaking panoramic view of the magnificent Manhattan skyline.

Less than three years had passed since you had walked the halls of your high school, a graduate filled with shattered aspirations and dry pool of dreams. Back then, the mere notion of such a view, of standing amidst the towering giants that graced the New York City skyline, was nothing short of a fantastical dream. It was a dream that seemed elusive, almost laughable, considering the harsh realities of life that had once deprived you of even the simplest means to put food on the table.

And perhaps, deep down, you still carried a glimmer of disbelief, a lingering doubt that whispered in the recesses of your mind. But as you lay there, basking in the gentle warmth of the sun's caress, you couldn't deny the profound sense of fulfillment that coursed through your veins. It wasn't solely the outcome that brought you satisfaction, but rather the journey itself, the arduous path you had traversed, and the resilience you had shown in embracing your roots.

For it had been surprisingly effortless, slipping back into the embrace of your origins, your identity intertwined with the vibrant tapestry of this city. The laughter that echoed within you was tinged with a certain fondness, an acknowledgement of the simplicity and ease with which you had found your place within this bustling metropolis. The streets, once unfamiliar and daunting, had become your familiar pathways, the very pulse of life flowing through your veins.

Your mother, a beacon of strength in the face of adversity, had tirelessly striven to keep you on the straight and narrow. The echoes of your father's incarceration still resonated within the corridors of your memory, a haunting reminder of the tumultuous path your family had been forced to tread. In those fragile years of your middle school days, the familiar embrace of modest living had been abruptly torn asunder, thrusting you all into the unforgiving shallows of Brooklyn's reality.

It was during those trying times that your mother, fueled by an indomitable spirit, took it upon herself to forge a path of honest labor. Her determination was nothing short of admirable, a testament to her unwavering love for her family. Yet, with every stride she took to ensure your well-being, the sacrifices etched themselves deeply into your collective existence. The simple pleasures that others took for granted, like an abundance of food on the table or shoes that conformed to the suggested lifespan, became luxuries beyond your reach.

Life, you discovered, was a merciless game where the cards were often dealt by the devil himself. It was a relentless battle against the odds, an unyielding struggle to make ends meet and find solace amidst the unrelenting tempest. And yet, your mother stood tall, weathering each storm with a determination that defied the very fabric of fate. She taught you resilience, instilled within you a fire that refused to be extinguished.

But even as you marveled at her strength, you couldn't help but question the cosmic forces that seemed intent on testing your resolve. The burdens that weighed upon your shoulders were never meant to be borne by the innocent. They were the unjust consequences of a world that cared little for the plight of those who fought against the currents of adversity.

For you had come to understand that while life may not always be fair, it is in the face of adversity that true character is forged. It is in the crucible of struggle that you discover the strength within, the power to rise above the hand you've been dealt.

Now, in the lap of luxury, you resided amidst opulence and excess, surrounded by an abundance of trinkets and baubles that stretched beyond the boundaries of imagination. The intricately woven rug beneath your feet held within its fibers the potential to feed your family for a year, and the resplendent chandelier suspended above the table embodied a fortune twice the worth. You lived ensconced in comfort, a world where your wants had transformed into ceaseless indulgences.

Yet, amidst this abundance, a sense of frustration gnawed at your core. The material wealth and extravagance that once held allure had now lost its luster, leaving you restless and longing for something more. The very essence of your existence now seemed devoid of purpose.

"So, I'm assuming you won't be joining," came the voice of your roommate and fellow thief, Tamara Blake, as she cast her shadow over you. For her, the thrill of the heist held a different significance. In her philosophy, as long as the wealthy continued to amass riches, there would always be treasures to claim. But you sensed that she, too, shared the underlying sentiment of disillusionment, the desire to divert her gaze from the chaotic world unfurling beyond their plush surroundings. It was another reason why you chose this apartment—a sanctuary that shielded you from the harsh realities of the world, yet one that you found difficult to leave behind entirely.

Brooklyn held memories you struggled to confront. It was the resting place of your mother, a place that felt simultaneously distant and unwelcoming. Your gaze barely grazed the surface of the deep neckline of the chiffon dress, its shimmering diamond necklace nestled in the hollow, before you turned your attention back to the river's expanse.

"Nah," you replied, dismissing the notion of joining Tamara on another exhilarating score. The thrill that once electrified your every heist had dissipated, leaving behind a hollowness that even your absence failed to disrupt. The vast fortunes amassed over time would sustain you and your descendants for generations to come. It had become nothing more than a game—a sport devoid of meaning.

"Alright, I probably won't be home tonight then," she added.

Your rested your chin against the crook of your elbow as your gaze fixated on the final ferry gliding into the dock. "Oh, you're playing with your prey this time?"

Tamara's laughter cut through the air, sharp as glass. "Hardly. I expect him to succumb before it reaches that point, but alas."

You grumbled halfheartedly as her hand affectionately tousled your tousled hair. "Want me to bring your favorite hors d'oeuvres home?"

The thought of clams and puff pastries, once delectable and enticing, now held little appeal, particularly after a day spent tucked away in an expensive clutch. "Don't bother," you dismissed, the notion hardly worth entertaining.

"Very well, then. Don't get caught up," Tamara admonished, securing a last-minute addition to her wrist—an exquisite pearl bracelet procured from last spring's collection.

"Then I wouldn't be worth my weight in diamonds," you replied, your voice carrying a hint of mischief and the thrill of a life lived on the edge. As Tamara departed, a whirlwind of confidence in her wake, you remained seated, contemplating the choices that led you to this gilded existence. Amidst the emptiness that lingered within, a flicker of longing danced in your eyes, a silent plea for purpose to infuse meaning into the richness that surrounded you.

—ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ —

Once again, it is the relentless grip of boredom that finds you perched atop the towering edifices, surveying the disarray that has befallen Brooklyn. The supple leather of your suit clings to your thighs, molding to your form as you shift on the balls of your feet. Since the tragic downfall of Captain Morales, the city you once called home has become a fragmented tapestry of desolation, where memories have been reduced to ashen ruins.

There was a time when you entertained the notion of relinquishing your feline-inspired guise in exchange for a cloak of righteousness, a chance to become the hooded vigilante who championed the downtrodden. The romantic notion of stealing from the wealthy and bestowing upon the destitute held a certain allure, a homage to the age-old tales of justice. But the harsh reality came crashing down upon you with unforgiving force, as your first and only act of benevolence was unceremoniously discarded in the merciless rain. In those moments, the wound inflicted upon your spirit ran deep, an ache that lingered as a phantom pain from a life best left behind.

Now, you stand upon the precipice of a new era—a time where strength and self-reliance have become the pillars upon which you build your existence. No longer shackled by the burdens of altruism, you have embraced a philosophy of self-preservation. You have forged a path that revolves solely around your own well-being, a truth that resonates as the sweetest symphony within your soul.

In this solitude, high above the city that bears the scars of its own unraveling, you revel in the power that courses through your veins. Your senses heightened, you become keenly aware of every movement in the urban symphony below—a cacophony of life that swirls in discordant harmony. The distant sirens wail like mournful ghosts, intermingling with the screech of car tires against asphalt and the rhythmic hum of electricity pulsating through the veins of the metropolis.

Brooklyn, once a tapestry of memories, now lies before you in a state of perpetual flux—a testament to the fragility of existence and the transient nature of human aspirations. As you peer into the depths of the city's heart, you can almost taste the bitterness that permeates the air, mingling with the grit of determination and the acrid residue of lost dreams.

The night holds a different air tonight, as if the very fabric of the city has absorbed the collective unease and transformed it into an eerie calmness. The absence of screams that once reverberated through the alleys and streets transforms your rooftop traversal into a bittersweet journey down memory lane, a respite from the haunting nightmares that plagued your mind. There is no concrete reason why you find yourself here, navigating the labyrinthine paths above the cityscape. It is not mere boredom that fuels your actions tonight; there is something deeper, an indescribable longing that propels you forward.

And then, it happens—a moment that seizes your heart and halts your relentless stride. The city below unfolds before your vigilant gaze, and you notice a stark difference in the illuminated windows. A somber darkness has settled over the once vibrant tapestry of lights. Fear or the cruel whim of fate, it is impossible to discern. Yet, amidst the shadows, two windows stand out, each holding a story of its own.

One window, its fractured pane a testament to the scars of a volatile past, remains enigmatically shrouded. Your pulse quickens as memories of bittersweet delicacies flood your senses. The rich aroma of sweet potato-filled empanadas mingles with the tantalizing scent of sweet strawberry horchata. It is an intoxicating blend that tugs at your heartstrings, evoking a yearning for the familiarity and warmth that resides within. Though you know it to be a trick of the mind, the illusionary fragrance lingers, teasing your senses, rendering your heart heavy with emotions you dare not fully embrace. The mask upon your face serves as a barrier, futilely attempting to shield your eyes from the rawness that seeps through.

Refusing to linger in the grip of nostalgia, you forcefully wipe away the moisture that accumulates upon your face, an act rendered useless by the relentless saturation beneath your mask. Your resolve remains unyielding as you avert your gaze, no longer willing to succumb to the power of longing. Instead, your body surges forward, propelled by the strength that resides within, fingers grazing against the unforgiving asphalt as your form glides through the air with an effortless grace.

In this nocturnal ballet, your movements become an expression of resilience and purpose. The open patch of land, a realm teeming with untold stories and unspoken truths, lies just a few blocks away, yet you refuse to let your gaze wander in that direction.

With every stride, every leap, you embrace the freedom that comes with embracing the unknown. The night is your canvas, and you, the spider-inspired maestro, weave a symphony of vigilance and determination against the backdrop of a city that both loves and fears you.

On this side of Brooklyn, the streets held little intrigue for you, their worn pathways offering no solace in your relentless pursuit. Even within the confines of your own neighborhood, the prospect of an exhilarating hunt seemed dim. Your father's voice, a reverberating echo from the past, cautioned against playing where you slept, reminding you of the chaotic aftermath such endeavors left in their wake. His words were etched into your consciousness, a reminder of the perils that lurked within the realm of familiarity.

There was a time when you entertained the audacious notion of orchestrating your father's liberation. The notion of liberating a person, unlike pilfering a diamond-encrusted necklace, required meticulous planning and a trusted accomplice. But such an endeavor held little appeal for Tamara, whose worth in diamonds was a currency she held dear. Moreover, your correspondence with your father had dwindled to naught since your mother's untimely passing. While a prison break would undoubtedly pave the way for a long-awaited reunion, the stakes were high, and failure would plunge you both into a deeper abyss.

And yet, acceptance became your constant companion.

With a brief transition bridging the divide, your body once again guides you toward a familiar destination. You descend with practiced silence, landing softly on the worn planks of the fire escape. Gazing upon the abandoned building before you, the passage of time seems inconsequential. Its dilapidated facade holds a steadfast resilience, much like the memories you have forged within its decaying walls.

A murmur escapes your lips, barely audible, as you tread the path of reminiscence. Scaling the railing, your eyes fixate on the far corner, where a metal-plated vent rests inconspicuously. To the untrained eye, it would go unnoticed, a hidden entrance designed to challenge only the most intrepid souls. Those with arachnophobia or a discomfort for confined spaces would instinctively shy away, blissfully ignorant of its true purpose.

But you are one of the few who knows its secrets, aware that this unassuming vent conceals a passage into the depths beyond. Though your high school physique was more forgiving, you now possess an agility honed by relentless practice. With calculated finesse, you squeeze through the narrow tunnel of darkness, your body adapting to the constricting confines. The sudden drop-off awaits at the end, but you navigate it with unwavering poise, balancing precariously upon a narrow beam before gracefully leaping to the next, traversing the chasm with the assurance of a seasoned acrobat.

Upon reaching the topmost floor, a sense of coziness envelops you, but the space feels confined compared to the open expanse below. With practiced grace, you lower yourself, hanging from the sturdy beam, preparing for a seamless roll upon landing. Yet, your focus wavers, captivated by a peculiar sight.

"When did someone mend that?"

Your gaze fixates on the highest window, where a marginal break had been repaired. Its elevated position renders it impractical as an entry point, rendering its restoration all the more puzzling. Even the building's original occupants never saw fit to address it. The mended window sparks a cascade of questions, igniting your curiosity like a flame dancing upon the wick.

But as the ancient adage warns, curiosity holds the power to slay the feline.

Fortune smiles upon you, for the highest floor boasts the lowest ceilings, mitigating the impact of your roll as your body gracefully meets the floor. Gasping for air, you summon oxygen to replenish your lungs, knees resting on the ground as you survey your surroundings. Every corner brims with potential danger, and your instincts sharpen, seeking out the source of the disturbance.

A flicker of shadow dances at the edge of your vision, fleeting and elusive. Was it a mere play of light, a figment of your imagination? Uncertainty lingers, but one thing is certain: this place is no longer the sanctuary of your childhood. Its innocence has been usurped by an unseen menace, lurking in the forgotten crevices of this once-abandoned edifice.

The air gradually fills your chest, accompanied by wheezes of exertion, as you rise unsteadily to your feet. Your options unfold before you like a complex tapestry, each exit tainted with newfound doubt. The doors you once presumed accessible may now be sealed shut, the floorboards that once creaked beneath your weight, fortuitously silent. Whoever now occupies this space possesses a heightened awareness, their presence a palpable threat that chills the air.

The distorted sound of soft clicks resonates in the air, an eerie melody designed to unsettle you. It plays with your senses, toying with your perception of reality. The voice, dripping with arrogance and disdain, pierces the silence like a venomous serpent.

"I'm afraid we have no need for strays here. We're more than capable of handling our own rat problem."

With a swift, fluid motion, you drop into a defensive stance, ready to face whatever adversary dares challenge you. Your words, laced with defiance, spill forth from clenched teeth, "Cute that you think you can afford my pedigree."

The source of the voice remains elusive, a phantom lurking in the shadows. The disadvantage of being grounded gnaws at your instincts, urging you to regain the upper hand.

"Pedigree? In Brooklyn? Don't make me laugh."

The calculated movements of the unseen presence further shroud their location, deliberately traversing the beams above to obscure their tracks. In response, you coil closer to the ground, making your body smaller, while your gaze darts around, searching for any sign, any clue.

Your voice adopts a tone you reserve for targets, laced with a hint of intrigue and the promise of a challenge. It dances through the air, light and airy, as you remark, "Maybe you should. Your voice sounds enticing. Hopefully, your wit matches it."

A scoff of disdain echoes in return, prickling your nerves, a telltale sign that your words have struck a nerve.

"Does that work for you?"

The voice has shifted, now above you, the mysterious figure closing in, inching ever closer to your vulnerable position on the ground.

"It depends. Come closer, and I'll be more than happy to provide you with a demonstration."

A heavy silence descends upon the space, laden with tension and uncertainty. You are ill-prepared for this encounter, having ventured into this treacherous corner of Brooklyn without your customary utilities. The realization of your own recklessness washes over you, a bitter reminder of the risks you have taken.

Yet, if they dare attempt to confine a cat in a wet bag, you will unleash all the fury and resilience that resides within you.

"If you insist."

They remained perched above, their position granting them a vantage point to observe your every move. As the impending strike hurtles towards you, a fleeting glimmer of purple catches your eye. Instinctively, you duck beneath the incoming attack, narrowly evading its trajectory. The clash of limbs reverberates through the air as you block their follow-up assault, your own clawed glove extending in a retaliatory gesture. Their speed is astonishing, an awe-inspiring display that leaves you momentarily off balance, seized by the collar and hoisted over their shoulder.

Yet, you are not caught off guard. Prepared for this impact, you roll onto your back with practiced grace, positioning yourself strategically as they hover above you. Both of you conceal your identities behind masks, but their assailant garb does a superior job of obscuring their true self. While your mind races to decipher the symbol adorning their attire, you sense an equal curiosity emanating from beneath their weight, solid and imposing.

Baring your teeth, you hiss defiantly, a mixture of challenge and provocation dripping from your words, "So you enjoy it rough, do you?"

A cocky tilt of their chin betrays their confidence as they respond, "Most men do."

This close the vague familiarity of the voice behind the mask gnaws at you. Though the speculation is faint as you calculate your next move.

A man then.

You could work with that.

Knowing that a headbutt would yield no victor, you tap into your resourcefulness, employing your body with precision. Your foot connects with a swift strike to his solar plexus, jolting them momentarily and creating the necessary space for you to wriggle free. As you roll a few feet away, maintaining a safe distance, the sound of a wheeze escapes his masked lips. With a taunting tone, you tease, "Aw, poor baby. Has the cat got your tongue? Men always finish so soon."

Tension tenses his shoulder as he regains his footing, a charge of determination propelling his advance. His arm grips your shoulder, preparing to toss you once more. Yet, you possess the agility to seize the opportunity, pivoting with agility and daring, aligning your back with his chest, sacrificing a vulnerable position for the advantage it grants. The motion of your next move is intended to disrupt their balance, your leg deftly splitting his thighs as you attempt to shove them backward. However, your calculation of his resilience proves inaccurate, as he fiercely bring you down alongside him.

Effortlessly, he rolls atop you, overpowering your defenses, pinning your arm back with ease. His voice drips with smugness as they taunt, "You're right. You are pedigree. What do they call you? A ragdoll?"

The curl of his self-satisfied smirk ignites a blazing fire within you, fueling your determination as you squirm beneath his weight. "Still not close enough. Allow me to enlighten you," you hiss, your voice laced with an unsettling sweetness.

His hand presses against your head, drawing dangerously close. A slip-up, a momentary vulnerability that becomes your catalyst for escape. Your nails claw into the flesh of his arm, exerting force until the compressed nerve yields, weakening his left side. Taking advantage their loosened grip, you unleash a powerful back kick, squirming free from his grasp.

Now afforded the precious gift of space, you act swiftly, nimbly scaling the wall with a determination born from necessity. The strain on your arm protests the swinging motion, but you persevere, perching yourself just out of their reach on a low-bearing beam. Your chest heaves with exertion, a telltale sign of the intensity of the encounter. There is a captivating allure to the figure before you, an air of knowingness that radiates from his composed demeanor as he casually rolls his shoulders, shaking off the impact of your attack.

Even from their position below, he maintains the advantage, a fact he is acutely aware of. Yet, for reasons unbeknownst to you, he refrains from exploiting it, at least for now. "Crafty entrance," the voice remarks, revealing his knowledge of the vent. This realization dawns upon you, highlighting the indicators you carelessly overlooked. This building is undoubtedly inhabited, but the question remains—why?

"I wasn't aware someone was watching. I would have put on a better show," you retort, a playful hint in your voice.

"It was rewarding enough," he counters, his words dripping with a hint of intrigue. You envision the angle of your contorted body, the spectacle it must have presented to an observer. Indicators often accompany additional security measures, yet they allowed you to stumble into the trap instead of springing it prematurely.

"I tend to prefer finer things, but I can appreciate prime real estate. New owner?" you inquire, a note of curiosity lacing your words.

The figure leisurely crosses his arms, providing you with a slightly clearer glimpse beneath the moon's gentle illumination. Shades of dark purple shroud his form, obscuring detailed features, yet you discern a lithe and agile build. "Something like that," he responds, his tone light but tinged with an underlying sense of boredom. "It's time for you to be a good kitty and run off. I'm not fond of house cats."

His words resonate within you, as if he had plucked the thoughts from your mind. Though you had initially been poised to retreat toward the familiar path from which you came, an uncharacteristic trust in this enigmatic stranger tugs at your instincts. There is an inexplicable feeling that assures you it will be alright, that survival is not merely wishful thinking. Alternatively, you may be sealing your own fate, and Tamara would revel in newfound wealth.

"That's a shame," you remark, as you feel his eyes trailing after you as you cautiously pry open the vent. Even though he is out of sight, his presence lingers, his words carving ripples in the air.

His next statement leaves you with a wry smile, "Funny you say that. I thought you were too expensive for my taste."

As you wriggle back through the vent, ensuring a seamless exit, the metal sheet slams shut, sealing off the passage behind you. The cool breath of Brooklyn's night air embraces your heated skin, invigorating your senses. In an instant, you spring into action, traversing the building with a swiftness born of instinct and experience. Every stride, every leap, carries you closer to the boundary of your neighborhood.

Yet, in the depths of your being, something stirs—a sensation more profound than mere boredom.

Curiosity.

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales #prowler miles

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morallyinept · 7 months

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Tendrils - A Din Djarin One Shot

Summary: Admiring his art, The Mandalorian loves to tie you up in knots. A Kinbaku/Shibari session with your Nawashi Rope Master, Din Djarin.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 5.6k.

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Warnings/Triggers: BDSM themes/Kinbaku/Shibari/rope play/suspension/restraint/all consensual/soft dom Din/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M receiving/gagging/fingering/light choking/praise/all the good stuff.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me - you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: Originally inspired from my Pedro Boys & Kinks Ramble. Shibari is the ancient Japanese art of bondage rope tying. Kinbaku takes this same skill, but in a more emotional and sensual direction. In this story Din is your Nawashi Master. A Nawashi is a skilled rope artist who concentrates on the communication with a partner and includes sensual emotion through a heightened state of rope suspension and play. I love the idea of Din being a more gentle rope rigger enthused more so by the art of it. So here he is. 🥰

MASTERLIST | DIN DJARIN MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

As you peer up through the window into the depths of deep space, the galaxy sprawls before your eyes in a mesmerising display of colours and wonder.

The scene evokes a sense of awe and insignificance, as you’re confronted with the sheer scale and beauty of the cosmos. It never fails to render you wholly incapacitated; here, and on your knees for it.

The first thing that strikes you is the vastness of it all. The galaxy stretches out seemingly without end, with countless stars dotting the inky expanse.

Some stars appear as brilliant points of light, while others form clusters and constellations; their patterns etching stories of their lifetimes in the night sky.

Tinctures dance the canvas. The stars vary in hue, from the cool, icy blues of young, hot stars to the warm, fiery oranges and reds of ageing giants. Interstellar clouds of gas and dust provide a striking contrast to the stars.

These nebulae come in shades of pink, purple, but mostly blue; their ethereal glow creating a sense of otherworldly beauty that you never tire of.

Serving as the cosmic nurseries where new stars are born, and their colours reflect the processes of star formation and destruction. Life and death. An ouroboros of never-ending repetition.

Amidst the wonder, you glimpse the faint, ghostly tendrils of spiral arms, hinting at the structure of the galaxy itself. These spirals are composed of stars, dust, and gas, swirling in intricate patterns that pull your gaze deeper into the cosmic abyss.

Naked, and on your knees, glancing up at it all with big, curious eyes from within the dark, muted shadows of the docked Razor Crest awaiting its next charge, you are still.

Unmoving.

You understand why Din has you engage in this ritual before you begin; it’s pertinent to challenge the perseverance through the discomfort.

A euphoric catharsis; a form of calming meditation as you sink into the enveloping arms of deep space, before you fall into your subspace.

A moment of stillness, that’s all he seeks from you. A moment of calm in the chaos surrounding him through the vortexes of the universe.

Din observes you quietly, eyes shrouded under Beskar steel; his silhouette bleeding into the shadows of a Rorschach inkblot on the periphery of your vision.

A moment of stillness, that’s all he covets. And you give it to him so willingly. His obedient chattel, freely surrendering into the symbiotic relationship created between you both in your mutual lust for the bind.

He looks across at you and he feels the stillness swell in you; motion and fluidity traded for practiced silence and strict immobility. He approaches and when you look up into the T-shape visor, his voice rousing you to do so, your own reflection mirrors back, albeit a little wobbly.

He feels the stillness within him too when you look up at him like that. The calming of the bountiful tides from those sparkly peepers of yours.

The rope is ready, all laid out on the cot in its serpentine coils. Plentiful and scarlett. Silken, yet binding in its bite if he allows it to be. Recalling from the thesaurus of knots in his mind, he visits the exquisite Eden of his preselections.

He reaches up to test the metal ring above the cot; solid and unwavering in its Beskar rigidity of course. Pulling on it, his strength flexes in his bare sculpted arm, and it stirs you from the sights out the window of the ship.

A slight tilt of your head at the sight of him taut and muscular. The physicality of a Mandalorian comes not without its scars, but to you he is simply wondrous in all his marring.

You try to remain composed as you steal a glance at him, but your body is heated. Swollen and already wet between your thighs for what is to come.

He is soon felt at your nape, the small ghost of his fingers sending shivers through each nodule of your spine. Your toes tingle as you sit on them, kneeling and waiting patiently for him to let you fly.

Helping you to your numbed feet, Din guides you through a few slow stretches; your naked back flush to his bare chest mirrored in the window at you; centered in the silvery aura of his pale glow.

His large hands gently glide across your supple form as he lifts your arms and you feel the cracks loosening your joints furthermore as he manipulates you into shapes. Pliant and wanting and he folds you out.

He pulls back on your arms and you feel your shoulders open. He instructs you to fall as far forward as you can keeping your feet docked in between his, and you don't hesitate at his gentle instruction.

You hum out as you feel the stretch arch through your back and legs.

He worships you in this moment, in the quietude before; the thrill of your surrender. The sentient life of your trust blooming its fruit.

“Do you feel prepared enough?” His modulated voice is soft through the static.

You nod softly, feeling no vice of tension lick at your abdomen.

“Words, please.” His voice is delicate, yet commanding.

He knows how to pitch his tenor; to be heard only by you, even in the cold, distant hums of the Razor Crest. Even in the swarmed crowds in the marketplace on Navarro.

“Yes. I’m ready,” you breathe. You’re always ready for him; the telltale heat felt on your cheeks and collarbone confirm it.

He draws a deep breath of his own, preparing. It crackles in your ear as he exhales.

"Breathe. Move only through your stillness. Be at one with the calm. Tell me to stop if you require."

You nod, obeying him. Falling furthermore into him.

He swears he can feel you grow closer in those moments of your calm obedience; your roots finding their way through his damp soil as he waters you to bloom.

Din shows you the rope he will use for this session, letting you feel it with your fingers, absolving any ligaments of fear you may have.

The rope is his tool; a chisel with which he carves you into new shapes through methodical repetition. And it's a tool that brings a comforting sense of tranquility almost immediately as you fondle it.

His hands glide up the sides of your waist as you take it from him to inspect and enjoy and you shudder as goose pimples flood your torso.

He strokes towards the mounds of your breasts where he cups over them, pinching the nipples that stiffen gently as he rolls them between his thumb and forefinger.

You hiss in rapture at the pull and squeeze of them; the cool weight of his helmet is pressed against the back of your skull as you mew gently around your gasps.

“Mmm,” you whine and he approves with a groan of his own. Groping gently and feeling how your nipples harden still.

"Distracted?" You ask with a coy smirk.

"Always," he confirms with a ghostly murmur as he watches you hiss again as he pulls a little tighter on your nipples.

He’ll tease you like this as he binds you; stopping momentarily to touch your skin, marvelling as your warm flesh turns pimply with the trails of his digits that tickle and tingle.

He’ll take his sweet time in annihilating you.

He takes the rope back from you; ataraxy settles in your features. You can see it in the mercury sheen of his helmet as he turns to unwind the jute silk from its sleeping coil.

He pauses for a moment, perhaps in reflection, perhaps in some unknown hesitation. His thumb brushes against the cleft of your bottom lip affectionately. A last confirmation of your willingness to relinquish the exquisite restriction of your control.

He drops his hand and then he begins.

Din always ties you tightly, but never constricts to the force of unbearability. He knows how to apply the right pressures into your skin, your veins.

Din knows just how you like it.

He knows this is what your energy demands of him in the moment, akin to his own. You give your all to him whilst he knots the rope delicately around your limbs as you become one with it.

He feels it each time you sag, relax fully into the depths of your submission. Hears the pliant murmurs of your sighs as they leave your mouth and slip up inside his helmet for him to taste and swallow down with your sweetness.

Your complicitness in your trust for your Nawashi Master always astounds him.

In the delicate artistry of his preferred practice of Kinbaku, the first knot Din chooses is the Hishi Karada. A full torsoed harness that resembles diamonds when woven across the front of your body.

The silken lines snake up and around your neck like a halter; a living entity slithering sensually over your skin. He watches your reactions as he fastens and loops; the way your eyes dilate and your smile widens.

Then follows the Takate-Kote. Chest loading for the final suspension, your arms are crossed gently behind your back, holding onto each elbow. He slides the loops into place around your wrists.

Your bare chest presented out to him further as the cavity is restrained and pushed forward; nipples tight and hardening again as he fashions the rope into twists between your breasts.

He draws the line around and over, criss-crossing delicately. He curves and braids and pulls tight to cinch, and soon the first bindings of your ropes are complete around the diamonds.

“How does that feel, good?” Din checks in with you, stopping entirely until you give him a verbal response.

“Yes,” you nod. “It feels good. Comfortable.”

"Then I'm doing it wrong," you hear him chuckle gently and you smirk.

"No. It's always perfect. Like you."

He stops again for a moment and you feel him looking at you from under the helmet, slightly cocked to one side as he regards you silently.

It makes your skin warm again after a few moments, the intensity of his gaze on you; even if you can't see it.

The anfractuous dance continues over your skin as he gathers himself and attaches the second line of rope. Silken trails are bound snug against your flesh and feel weighted - secure. You’re not going anywhere once he has you.

Din succumbs to the rhythm of the tie. Each weave calls to him and he yields to its haunting Siren song.

A candescent mesmerisation in a shrill undoing of his soul. The flow of the rope, the flow of you all around him; the flood of blood to the end of his heavy cock.

After a fairly short passing of time, the Takate-Kote is complete, and you stand before him bound in the invitation of your innocence.

The ample curve of your breasts rising and falling of their own with each deep breath you take; swollen and further bouyant by the ropes lifting them to their maximum pertness.

Din attaches the first of the longer lines that will suspend you fully; his hand closing around your throat gently to pull you closer towards him as he works.

When you swallow, he can feel it against his palm as he threads through the ring and pulls you up onto the bone of your big toes; his elegant ballerina.

You feel his fingers stroke through the nape of your hairline and you shudder.

He kneels then, to worship at your feet, more of the jute attached in his hands. Din turns his helmeted head up at you and your reflection greets you back once more.

You're a vision in scarlet lines and knots against your flesh. You beam down at him in your satiated grace enjoying the feeling it evokes.

"This amuses you?" He takes note of your jaw stretched wide in that blinding grin he knows only too well.

"No," you smile wider.

"Well, it amuses me. Greatly. "

"Sadist." You chirp and he tugs on the rope with severity making you jostle again and your giggles tinker out of you freely and more ungraceful. "You play dirty." You snort.

"That's surely the only way to play." Din clicks jubilantly. "Hold still."

He gently folds your left leg back first; heel pressed to the back of your thigh top, and starts scribing the story of the Futomomo Spiral on your skin like a brand.

He knows this will be a challenge for you, but you're resolute in your eagerness to withstand, to endure. To please the bounty hunter who captured your heart.

He senses that from you; he senses your limits and knows how far to push you and when to retrieve you from that place where pleasure morphs into torrid pain.

Sometimes, he’ll let you pendulum between the two; he knows that you want to taste it as its heat licks at your curiosity.

Careful and slow with his ties, Din weaves the sinuous ladders cinching down each line.

He tugs gently and you feel it on your pressure points. Your heightened gasp floods his blood with liquid heat when he does it once more.

“Good?” He checks in again, his thumb circling the meat of your inner thigh, inches from your bare sex.

The scent of you wafts under his helmet making his mouth salivate.

“Yes,” you confirm again through a breathy sigh.

You can feel the dull ache in your leg now that it’s up, leaving you balancing tenderly on your right big toe as you strictly steady yourself from your core not to waver or swing.

You giggle again when you fail, leaning and twirling, and he smiles in response in the secretive confines of his helmet. He never scolds you for laughing; he enjoys that music too much.

He takes your other leg, and repeats the same pattern and you’re suspended from the ring completely, swaying gently against him as he finishes off the beautifully delicate pattern.

Din stands, gathering the last of the rope and pulling backwards as you arch and tip forward, hair falling into your face. He pauses for a moment, glorifying again in the feel of your body pressed close to him whilst he secures you in precise, mathematical knots.

Nose pressed flush against his shoulder where a prominent scar welts there in its ferociousness, and you can’t help but to taste the salt of the ridge as you plant a delicate kiss there.

It disorientates him for a moment; you hear the soft whoosh of his breath flow out from under the helmet warming your cheek.

"Now who's playing dirty, hmm?" He teases.

Din's last step is to braid the remaining overhang of the line into your hair. He scoops it gently out of your face, granting you your vision back as he secures the braid at the end. His fingers weaving across your skull emits a low simper from you.

You squirm and pout as he pushes you back into the air and stills you by the shoulders.

"Almost there, Mesh’la."

Din finally ties you off, pulling you higher as you mourn the loss of his touch. His breath is now coming slow and steady; that calm absolving him of the primaeval misdeeds of his bounties.

He smiles and strokes your cheek tenderly as you let your head fall forward into gravity where you'll hang for a time determined only by him.

“There,” his voice is a whisper, canted in the grizzled tones that only you can hear. The ground beneath his feet ripples like water as he admires the finished sculpture of your form.

He can feel your bliss flooding you; the elation of your aura bursting around the embrace of the ropes, sinking into the fibres to glow with you. You’re a vision in your contortion. How a God would craft his kin from his rib.

He instigates one last check of your restraints before he settles back on the cot underneath you, flat on his back and propped up by the cushion of his bicep under his helmet.

Watching keenly as his masterpiece sways and rotates gently in a slow orbit above him to the backdrop of the cosmos outside.

He watches from inside the helmet as the vacillation of your constricted ballet gravitates above him. An angel clipped of their wings; your body pretzeled into a shape that defies profundity. He watches, he exudes calm.

He’s found his stillness at last.

A low moan slips from your lips, rousing him back from his utopia. It's then he notices the shine; the singular bead of your slick glistening as it makes a track down your inner thigh. He’s exposed you fully to him and his cock twitches in response at your pleasure in him doing so.

He longs to taste it; to feel that sweet tang dance over his taste buds again and flood his mouth like juicy fruit. He could have you for as long as he wanted, you'd just have to take it.

Take all of him as he pummels, as he fucks without abandon. Pulling you back onto him controlled only by the swing of the rope; his violence planting flowers under your skin, cracking you open as they bloom.

You’d be unable to move, to resist as he pulls your pleasure from you in droves and drowns you in his own. Works you through the overstimulation you feel after you come, forcing you to confront it for however long he pleases and you'd shudder and cry that you can't take anymore. All you could do is take as he gives.

Your face is what captures him again; stills any restlessness he unwittingly clings to fully. Blissed out, your mouth slack and your pupils wide. High in your subspace as you dangle above him; a twirling pirouette frozen in movement for him to marvel at.

In that fleeting, dreamy moment, Din understands that euphoria is not just an individual sensation; it’s something that could be heightened when two souls come together in perfect harmony to share.

You’re the pliant, obedient ying to his commanding yet soothing yang. He feels it bleed into him from you.

You watch above him; his form spinning slowly on the cot as you turn on an axis. See how his hand strokes along the pallet of his chest, down to the soft plume of his stomach and grips tightly over his cock. Squeezing and cupping the heavy weight of it through his pants as he strangles a groan.

You bite your lip, you want him so badly when you’re so open and exposed like this. When you fly for him. Just the way he constructed you to. Holes ready and waiting to be filled if he so wishes.

Or he could leave you wanting, contracting around nothing in a frozen anticipation.

Craving for him to fill you and take from you as you’re helpless in your binds. For him to enjoy this exquisite piece of art he's crafted out of you.

And the exquisitiness of it all is that you never know if he will or not.

Your knees and ankles ache; the dull thrum of the blood pumping harder around the knots to keep your limbs on the precipice of a pleasant numbness.

Your conscious thoughts are a mere whisper; a single nagging moment quickly lost amidst the chaos of desire and need for the Mandalorian who has constructed you from clay with his thick, calloused fingers.

Bringing you in warm to experience the highest sensations of pleasure: this is the way he shows his love.

His flight suit and steel have been long traded for soft Harem pants hanging dangerously low on his waist. A faint smattering of dark curls trail from below his belly button into the front of them and you glimpse the obvious bugle that swells within them that he fondles brazenly.

Watching hungrily as he now slips his hand inside the front, you whimper and struggle against your bindings. Your body jerks in that wanton haze.

A noise similar of that to a swamp Dagobah escapes you on a croaked strangle.

“Patience,” his voice is tensile, and yet somehow discernible above the tumult of the blood now pumping in your ears; its sonorous strains slipping between frenetic chaos to find you mindlessly incoherentat the sight of his swell.

You tremble at the overwhelming power in his voice, and you know you’ll always do whatever he asks of you.

Feral intensity spikes hard inside your cunt as Din pulls his hard, weeping cock out of his pants. The swollen head, a flush pink, he runs his thumb over the glistening diamond of precum that sparkles at you and you lick your lips involuntarily wishing you could taste it.

Your arousal and the dampness between your thighs is prevalent as your skin begins to bead with sweat. Heat flooding over your limbs furthermore. The fine tendrils at the back of your neck, missed from the braid, stick to it.

Din pumps his cock languidly, but you can feel the grip of his fingers tighten around his thick shaft pinch all over your flesh that isn’t bound.

Absorbing his passion, your own builds, coating the lips of your cunt in glistening concupiscence.

He seeks to remind you of your tangible agony with those snuffled grunts he pollutes around the Razor Crest, echoing around his ears inside the helmet, and you can hear their veracity as they intensify with the motion of his wrist.

“Please,” you whine above him; your body twirling around faster as you struggle and itch against the fibres.

“What do you seek?” His words are a taunt, not so much a question and you can hear the slick around his teeth through the modulator as he grins. He enjoys your agony very much when you're strung above him like this.

Delicate. Helpless.

“Please, Din. Don't make me beg.” You pout again as he speeds up and the sounds of the gentle slaps of his wet dick inside his fist supernovas on your clit.

"Why? I enjoy it when you beg."

“You, I need...” You're panting now. His jerking intensifies, as do his groans.

“There’s a place amongst the stars for you soon." His body tenses as he works himself into a frenzy. Teasing the fractals of your distress to the surface.

You can only watch as he pleasures himself below you. So near, yet so incredibly far; separated by a vast expanse of the galaxy outside. The agony it births within you starts to crush your bones as you writhe against the knots.

“Find your stillness,” he commands in a soothing tone; his voice jostling from his speedy fisting around his cock. You stop struggling, the bite around your limbs begins to lessen instantly.

You whine furthermore as you watch him; he denies you what you so desperately want.

“Please…” Your voice is strangled by the patheticness of your requisite. And it's enough to make him break in his own selfish need to deny you any further.

Din Djarin can never deny you.

Sitting upright, he pulls on the line descending you gently towards him. Laying back, you hover over him like an apparition, scant inches above his skin.

He maps out your route, controlling your mouth on his torso, where he wants your tongue as you kiss and lick wet tracks over him, barely reaching his flesh at times. Your constant battle for his loins amuses him in your desire to resist him, yet the Mandalorian’s resolve only takes him so far.

"Open," he instructs and your lips part.

Weakened by you, he feeds you his cock, finally, allowing it to slip between your lips. A grunt escapes as he slides into your mouth, meeting with the wet, spongy flesh at the back of your throat.

“That’s it, good.” Din whines, his hands on the back of your head gently; right fist wound around your roped braid and tugging it, controlling your depth. He knows all too well how eager you are to swallow him down. But he wants this to last.

"So good for me."

Breathy husks escape him, rattling through the modulator and out into the ether. The obscene wet sounds of your earnest sucking and his dirty grunts, makes you pulse.

The prominent, swollen vein on the underside of his cock warms to the surface by your mouth and you feel your lips ridge over it.

“More,” Din instructs through a wheeze.

You open up further, relaxing your throat at his command and he slips in further still. Deeper into the crevice of your trachea and you feel the heaves already swelling at the bottom of your gut.

"Relax. Wider for me. You can take it all, I know you can... That's it. So good when you relax for me..."

Slowly, and with gentle cajoling, you take him fully, right down to his balls where your chin sinks into the plumpness of them.

Your nostrils are tickled by the soft scratch of pubic fuzz around the base of his shaft. You inhale soap, his own salty musk and the faint aroma of metal.

Another satisfied grunt escapes from under the helmet. You flick your tear-filled eyes up to see the shape of his chin pointed to the sky from within the helmet. The faint shadows of light stubble that dance over it and entice you to lick the roughness there.

You've never seen his face, have never bore witness to the spectacle of it. And yet you know every feature, every crook of his smile and every flex of his brow underneath the Beskar when he finds his pleasure.

Closing your eyes, you're mindful of your respect, and just enjoy the sounds he makes for you instead.

"There you go... this is what you wanted, hmm?" He fucks your mouth deeply; gentle rhythmic thrusts from his hips as you moan and drool around the fullness of him.

A thick, pearly strand of your saliva plops onto his thigh as it dangles from your mouth. His cock lubricated wholly in your eagerness to please.

He pulls out momentarily to stroke it all over himself, slather up his cock with your sputum before pushing it between your lips once more.

"Again."

You gasp and heave. Your eyes water and finally spill tears over your cheeks from the strain.

"Beautiful," he whispers. His thumbs smear them away. A choke splutters out of you as he nudges against the gag reflex, the back of your throat clamping around him involuntarily in response.

The punch either side of his thick head makes him groan deeply. His fingers twist around your scalp as he pushes himself fully into the hilt of your throat.

Your pussy is dripping, you can feel it sticking on the insides of your thighs and your clit aches with a pinch of pain sparking as you suck.

You squeeze, chasing the exalted feeling as your pelvic floor contracts against the right places inside of you and you moan around him; the hum on his bulbous head in your throat delighting him furthermore.

Din knows what you're doing though, your squirming pulls him from the throes of his pleasure as he sits up and reaches his arm across the roped pleats over your back.

"So needy..." His fingers swipe down your crack, prodding at your lips; slipping down into the gooey ribbons of your pussy as your face remains buried in his crotch - his cock still in the back of your skull as you suck on it eagerly.

The whine you let go of tribs around his length as he swipes his pads across the nub of your clit. Your body jerks in response. He slides his fingers inside your hole that’s so ready for him; drenched and so tight.

Din feels it as you come almost instantly from a few pumps of his fingers; studies your face as he pulls his cock out of your mouth, listens to the sounds you make from his fingers fapping harder inside you.

"You're going to do that for me again, Mesh'la."

He brings you to the edge once more, and instead of holding you back or denying you, he lets you fly. He wants to see your colours and bask in their vividness as they blind him. To feel you tighten and constrict around his fingers.

"So beautiful."

He knows this is real, knows that he makes you feel these things for him as your eyes roll back and that heat floods your body, rising from the pit of your core like a sleeping giant.

Snapping back like an elastic band. Wandering through the realms of sheer euphoria with a kindred spirit to guide the way.

“Din!” You yelp as your bound body twists and contorts, and he keeps you steady in the air on the end of his fingers. "It's too much, I-"

"There is no such thing as too much. Your body wants it. Silence your mind and let it soar."

"Mmm, yes!"

“Give yourself to me…” He instructs. “Let me have all of you.” Din slaps your pussy, the thunder from his gargantuan palm shooting into your clit and all through your body.

It moves at his command, arching and twisting as it yields. "Let go..."

And you do. You flood his fingers as he reinserts them; silken and warm as you expand and float off to be at one with the gaseous stars.

Din loosens the line fully and manoeuvres you onto your back on the cot. Sitting above your face, meaty thighs either side of it, he strokes your bottom lip. His breath catches as you kiss it.

"You flew."

You nod. "Yeah."

"You think you can fly some more?"

"Yes." You quiver.

"Good. Open." He plunges his cock in deep into your throat as you choke and gag around it, only pulling out when he knows you will need to take a breath, timing it in his head. Timing how long you could take it before you’d turn blue like the nebulae and splutter.

"Breathe... like I taught you. Use your nose."

Breathing correctly, you can keep him there, at the back of your larynx as he fucks your face with a little more vigour now; your wet, gummy flesh pulsing against the head of him as you try to intake air and he makes it last that bit longer each time.

He grips gently around your throat as he reaches back and pinches your clit, rolling it through his fingers tightly and making you gasp from the overstimulation.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head from lack of oxygen and too much pleasure as the shock waves of your orgasm continue to tingle and burn their way through you until you're smashed dust amongst the stars.

Din looks down at you through the T-visor, taking you all in as he makes you his art, his finest masterpiece yet. The knots and weaves moving as one with your body.

He pulls out again, groaning as you suck one of his balls eagerly into your mouth, his other hand stroking the length of his cock that’s fatter and twitching around his fist. A cerise pink head that's angry and wanting, and leaking again.

He’s so close. He wants you to have him, have you swallow him down into your belly. He instructs you to spit on it and he watches with abject rapture as you decorate him in foamy crystal strings.

He growls at the sight of it, and it makes all your ribs snap.

You suck him down again and swallow deep, feeling him prod at the back of your throat once more as he guides and controls you with subtle flexes of his hips; his hand knotting in your braid. His grunts are felt on the end of your clit, his satisfaction tingling all through your body.

He can't hold on much longer, he wants you. Want to feel you milk him of his resolve. Take from him what he wants you to have.

He unties you from the ring, catching you steady in his arms as he sits back with you, lifting you into his lap. Your arms are still bound around your back and legs still bent into his crafted shapes.

“I've got you, cyar'ika.” He assures as he holds you steady and he feels you relax into his grip keeping you upright. “Sing for me,” he groans as he sinks you down onto his hard cock and you gasp at the intrusion of his swell.

"Mmmaaha," you whine, dizzy and hot.

"I know, just a little more. Move with me." Din whispers. "That's it, good. Keep it going."

You ride him slowly, gently as his arms wrap you up and hold you close to him, almost crushing the life out of you as his hips buck up to meet yours in this sensual grind.

He's so deep like this. You gasp out, letting go as he fills you up, stretching you open; making you detach and lose yourself in this moment inside the safe lock of his arms - inside of him.

You're gone. Completely dissociated and only he is your God. Your Kad Ha'rangir. You’re not afraid to be lost with him. And he knows that eventually, you will help him find his way out too.

Ephaptic coupling, synapses firing, neutron stars colliding; you burst open from your seams with a choked screech, your skin tight around the bindings and rope, and yet you don't feel them anymore. You feel free as you float and soar and take Din with you by the hand.

Your slick drenches him as your cunt tightens, and he falls with you, letting himself explode with you and calling out for you in his momentary blinding.

His body shudders as he releases, filling you to the brim with his plentiful warmth; coming hard and feeling like he'll never stop.

Smashed. Wrecked. Gone. Your bodies are just empty husks until the gold of your souls return from the vastness of space to rejoin the sensations that still ebb and flow in your veins.

"There," he gasps a little while after he's reborn. "Breathe... slowly. Deep."

Your forehead falls weakly against the coolness of his helmet; a soft bonk as your breath fogs it up whilst you inhale slowly in and out, coming back to dreamy reality and leaving the stars hanging in the universe where they belong.

Din's fingers dance over the thin skin of your lips. You taste them as you delicately kiss the pads of them, one by one as they pass, tender and sweet. Your eyes find his behind the helmet and despite not glimpsing them or knowing their true colour, you can still see them.

You place a gentle kiss on the side of the helmet; your lip print soon a ghostly fade.

"How are you hanging in there?" Din asks, a gentle tug on your woven restraints.

Your breathy giggle answers him and he knows now that this is what it must feel like to die.

You feel him begin to loosen the knots against your back after some time of cradling you against his chest. Listening to his heartbeat as it slows to a natural beguiling rhythm that makes you sleepy.

Slowly, your arms are freed; the ache in your bones is palpable as you wind your shoulders out. He frees your legs and lays you back on the cot admiring the welted indents that have left trenches of their patterns in your skin.

He traces them with a wandering fingertip, eliciting shudders from you as he trawls over your body before massaging the feeling back into your calves.

“Please, eyes closed, Mesh'la.” Din exhales and you respect his wish to be unbroken in his creed. You close your eyes and wait. Wait for the bow to break and then you'll fall into the starry abyss again as his lips finally greet your skin.

It's always the part of your sessions that you long for the most.

Din removes his helmet, placing it close by on the cot. The trust he has in you not to open your eyes is felt blossoming in your ventricles. You remain true to your promise and never take a sneaky peep.

You feel his soft lips kiss along the intricate indents on your flesh, tasting and licking around the swirls, the places where your skin turned a dark shade of mauve.

He gives life to your blood as it flows back into the tingly limbs.

You reach blindly into his crown, rifling through the softness of his hair; slightly damp around the nape of his neck as he kisses further up your body.

Din stops to gently suck your nipple into his mouth and pull it out of the puff of your areola to tease. He enjoys the delectable moans it pulls from you far too much. So much so, that it hardens him again.

But he knows you've reached your limit for now as you lay serene on the cot; eyes closed with a heady smile bleached into your features.

You're more beautiful to him now than you've ever been.

He licks up your clavicle towards your lips where he finally tastes you. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth, waltzing with yours as the warm flesh of his thick cock lays against the inside of your thigh.

"Din..." you croon, reaching blindly for him between your aching legs, but he stops you.

"Rest now. I'm here. You need sleep." He pulls you closer to him, cocooning you into the protective shell of his battered body.

It feels like forever since he was this close; this bound and tied to you in equal measure.

As he kisses you deeply, you wait with a satiated eagerness slipping under your heavy eyes for the next time when your Mandalorian, your Nawashi Master; your Kad Ha'rangir… Your Din Djarin of Clan Mudhorn, lets you fly freely again to the stars.

I really hope you enjoyed Nawashi Master Din! 🥹 I enjoyed writing this so much. Please, let me know your thoughts. I'd always love to hear them. 🖤

MASTERLIST | DIN DJARIN MASTERLIST

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #pedro pascal characters #the mandalorian #din djarin smut #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin the mandalorian #jett's writing

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sonicasura · 4 months

Text

Alternate idea for TFA Optimus being stranded on Arachnus Seven instead of Elita-1. First off he doesn't turn into a spider. Nope, I'm going for another creature that lurks in caves but tend to eat critters like spiders: BATS.

Fun fact: Optimus Primal's original design had been a bat before it was replaced with the gorilla we know and love. As for the OP here... I'll going for multiple inspirations so he can truly be alien like. Mainly because the 'bat' Animated became was an equal level predator to the Arachna Seven Spiders.

This four winged species which I'll call 'Arachna Nebulas' went extinct due to outside interference as the bat genus in general are very sensitive to changes in their environment. We all know what happens when an ecosystem is heavily disturbed. Optimus was lucky enough to find intact enough remains to become Vetaleus Prime.

Vetaleus being a word play on Vetala, a mythological vampiric bat like entity that takes over cadavers. Fitting as in a way OP is dead whether it be to those he once knew or his old self. For Arachna Nebulas, it's from the Cosmic Bat Nebula that can be found in Orion's Constellation.

Now I have two types of inspiration for Vetaleus Prime. One from the real world while the other is media consumed over the years. For bot mode, I introduce you to Yu-Gi-Oh's King of the Feral Imps and Digimon's VenomMyotismon.

Considering he had remains for this reformat than an alive specimen, OP's techno-organic nature has glaring differences when it comes to his modes. His thick fur becomes large mane like clusters around the helm/wrists/ankles while thinning out half way down his torso as defensive measures shift to the bones of the secondary wings become spikes and horns.

A 33 ft bulky frame meant for sheer force whether it be large powerful claws n talons, sharp piercing teeth to drain a prey's life, powerful tail that can flatten, or even large ears which can hear an ant breathe. Vetaleus Prime's bat like face doesn't help in portraying his gentle yet nervous nature and his still Autobot colors remain under scrutiny. No stereotypical evil Fateswap OP's in this house.

Onto the Arachna Nebulas' mode, I have fictional inspiration alongside three real world ones. Meet the Golden Crowned Flying Fox, Vampire Bat, White Honduran Bat and Monster Hunter's Paolumu!

Optimus is very fluffy in alt mode as the Nebulas' thick fur prevents the spiders from injecting their venom into him. Akin to the Paolumu inspiration than just visage, there's a special air sac in the neck that allows the species to not only float but also spit large blasts of pressurized air if their hammerlike tail slaps don't do the job. Here's the boss fight from Monster Hunter World for further details.

Vetaleus Prime's alt mode is built with the 'bob and weave' concept. Dodging the opponent's strikes while landing your own attacks on them. His larger upper arm wings makes it easier to move and adjust his trajectory in float as the secondary protects the less fluffy parts of the body.

In alt mode Vetaleus has more animalistic mannerisms. Growling, purring, roaring, and whining to convey his mood. He grooms himself like any other animal much to confusion of those around him.

Those mannerisms are still present in bot mode but Optimus tries not to unless alone or around others he trusts. He can't escape from nesting though. One of the ways to our bat bot can make himself feel comfortable and safe.

Like with Arachnus Prime, Vetaleus Prime goes into self exile knowing that Cybertron will never accept him. He ends up on Earth because of poachers who visited Arachnus Seven to capture some spiders to sell on the black market. A conflict that leads to a crash landing before canon occurs.

Optimus here has a more harsher craving when it comes to organics as his primal nature no longer has those giant spiders to satisfy him. It isn't uncommon for the deer and bear population to decline but also poachers or illegal hunters to disappear. You can say Vetaleus Prime holds a feral grudge on this specific group. Unless he has a good supply of oil than Cybertronian are in sheer danger from a feral episode.

Vetaleus craves companionship but isolates him due to fear. He has hurt others before and doesn't want to harm innocent people or much worse a companion. A fear made more apparent from his feral outbursts if refueling needs aren't satiated.

Ways to sustain this primal nature becomes more difficult once Vetaleus is forced to make the sewers his den. Stealing from food delivery trucks WILL happen if he cannot find ample resources in time. A desperate action that solidify his cryptid status as the 'Detroit Devil', escaping with the quarry in hand before anyone fully sees him.

Vetaleus Prime does his best to remain being hidden and indulge soothing hobbies like reading or knitting than cause people potentially dangerous strife. A task that might become impossible when the past ends up in Detroit. Or the haunting realization of what can happen should Vetaleus fail to satisfy his other side.

Team Elita-1 best be careful. An innocent monster is just as dangerous as any other. Optimus rather not sink his fangs into someone he considers a dear old friend but evil will not miss an opportunity like this...

That's it for now! Until next time folks, I'll see you back at the crossroads between Detroit and Cybertron! Now Transform and Roll Out!

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swaggy-waggy-gvf · 1 year

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The Couch - DRW

Warnings: none I'm feeling sappy this is just fluff

Word count?? Idk I wrote this spontaneously

Nights like these were always treasured.

You were wearing only his sweater and your underwear, and he, some flannel pyjama pants and a simple white tee.

A blanket lay draped across your waist, sheltering your lower body from the autumnal chill you couldn't seem to keep from entering your apartment.

Reluctantly, your eyes opened.

Candles long since burnt out, and the credits of a movie you couldn't recall watching rolling down the TV screen. It was dark out, but aside from that you had no indication of the time, and weren't necessarily inclined to try to find out.

Slowly, your gaze lifted.

Your head rested on his chest, steadily rising with each breath. His strong arms wrapped protectively around you as he slept on, as though he could shield you, even when unconscious.

You took in his features, illuminated by the streetlamps that filtered in through the curtains you had neglected to draw.

Dark curls piled atop his head, hastily pulled up into a perfect mess.

Trailing downwards, his nose, artfully curved as if carved from marble. Yet, delicately dotted with freckles and a rosy tinge, a welcome softness against the initial sharpness.

Fitting, it seems.

Your gentle giant.

He shifted in his slumber, arms drawing tighter and his head turning against the small cushion it rest upon.

Maybe you should have woke him, moved to the bed, Lord knows it would be more comfortable.

But instead, you closed your eyes, and savoured the moment.

With each breath it felt as though you couldn't get any closer, that here on this couch it seemed as though your souls had become intricately intertwined. As though you had existed on some other cosmic plane, destined to find each other in this life and the next.

Your heart swelled with love as he shifted once more and sighed, pondering the possibility of a forever like this.

So who could blame you for letting yourself be drawn in, for sinking into the serenity that only this couch could hold.

And drifting back into sleep

#gvf #danny gvf #danny wagner #greta van fleet #daniel wagner #daniel gvf #gvf fic #gvf fluff #danny wagner × reader #danny wagner fluff #greta van fluff

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tuliptic · 4 months

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HAPPY NEW YEAR 2024

I've reached the point of new year, old me but slightly getting better day by day. But still, I wanna say a couple of words before I forget them oof.

I've started this blog in 2022, but I've gone through a full 2023 here together with all of you. As usual, I've learnt a lot through the amazing and immaculate posts done by amazing people here, and I've grown through a lot of trials and errors. I've reached another stage in my life and am prepared to continue learning what life has to offer me (other than ailments please my knees and teeth hurt sobs). I'm really glad that my journey here was never alone, and I believe that more will join us in this as we continue to find our paths and reason to be here, on this earth or even on this platform.

Shout outs to my mutuals here @elysiansparadise @sun-pluto @psychelis-new @the-wild-candy @the-cosmic-gentle-giant @bichou-angel @rain-on-sunshine @cosmictulips @csmiclxtte @pbstarot @neptunes-sol-angel @jinxstrology @carronpatrick and many more that I can't think rn who have been supporting and helping me out.

Special shoutout to my irls as well, one of them being @garfieldsdonut who have been super supportive from the very beginning and have been doing their best to comfort me and assuring me. The trust they have in me is just... Reassuring and warm.

Here's to wishing the best for us all here that things will continue to get better.

Love, me.

#tuliptic #🌷#there's actually more to say but I've forgotten so yeah

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aloneatpeace · 8 months

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Cosmic Chaos

Chapter 11

You were walking home when you felt the shift in the atmosphere, there is something different in the air. Something or someone is watching you, it doesn’t feel malicious nor benevolent. You quicken your steps but the second you take another step. Your shifted to the road Infront of you changes, there is no houses or street but it’s like you’re in hallway of some crumbling temple, you can feel the cold air coming from the behind of you but you cannot see a thing, darkness covered was all you could see.

The fire torch was doing poor job in helping you see anything. You felt like you’re dreaming yet felt like this is the reality and everything else was an illusion. You hesitantly take step forward; you rather take a warmth that the torch provides than go back to the darkness. The torch next to the lit up as you walk and one by one everything lit up.

Chest beating out your ribs, sweat accumulating on the forehead from fear, you look around. The place is made of stones and the walls carved with symbols that seems to be ancient the whole place gives the aura of centuries if not more than couple of centuries of history.

There is circle shaped table that made of stone had carvings of symbols stand the middle. But that is not what captured you, it’s the giant statue of a goddess or entity that carved in the wall was captivating behind the stone table. A representation of sheer power and confidence oozed from the figure, head held high, tall and proud, the crown on the head, the details of the dress everything seems to be perfect and you felt a pull towards it.

Then all of sudden a bright yellow orange shined making you close your eyes at the brightness, hands covering half of your face your try to look at the source of the light, the wind picked up with a low difficulty you finally see what made that glow on the center of the table floating in the midair was a stone of bright yellow.

Your eyes glazed and you didn’t hear a small stone beside you falls to the grounds as the giants come back to life, eyes glowing red. You didn’t acknowledge them, they both kneel the side of the table as you walk towards the stone, four stone hands placed as striae to help you on top of the table.

Stone shines bright as if its waiting for your arrival for eternity and now that you are near the glow seems to spike and the energy around the stone was buzzing with an uncontrollable power and magic. Now the glow lit up the place everything was visible.

What you did not see the thousands of bodies of women of your ages and lay lifeless. Some of the already become bones and some frozen and crushed under. This was no temple nor its was a tomb but it is the throne of the scarlet witch.

The lord of chaos magic Chthon made the throne for the scarlet witch a nexus being. one of the very rare entities that can influence the universe in a way that changes probability and alters time flow.

You slowly lift your hands to touch but hesitate for moment the stone move towards you as if it’s encouraging you to touch it, you touch then without a millisecond delay the stone is dissolve and the bright yellow light turns red blow harshly, Infront of you the statue seems to come to life as a shadow a woman floating the air with the same crown and attire.

She gives of the aura of power and strength, the way she held her head high insinuate the certainty she has, her posture was straight and defined it. The benevolent and malevolent energy thick in the air and it is hard to confirm which was dominant.

She has that light feminine energy; a source of spiritual power and healing connect with inner. wisdom and intuitive. Embodies sensuality, gentle, emotional and expressive a empathic graceful goddess

She has the dark feminine energy; a force of raw emotions, untamed desires and primal power. A sacred rage, sensuality and assertiveness. Represents the fiery transformational side of femininity that fuels the death and rebirth.

Suddenly the figure bust into a red bright glow and it enter inside your body, you could feel the power flowing inside you, your senses being highlighted, the magic inside you strengthen ten folds.

Then everything seems to fade away as you pass out, as you fall the reality change into previous. the red veins fade away from your skin into the deepest of your body.

The leaves crunch under the weight of the wolf, as it slowly stalks towards you with calculating steps. The night is silent as dead, the porch lights of the houses are all dim and no one was on the street. The wolf had seen it all happened, out of nowhere you disappear and come back knocked out cold. He sniffs around of you checking, your heart beating now steady and clam but seems like you’re not going to wake up any soon.

The wolf looks at your face before nudging your face with his cold nose still no response he glances around for a minute before running away.

The wolf shift into his human form and his red eyes shine bright contrast of the darkness, peter change into his clothes. He come back to you “what are you?’’ he asks pushing your hair away from your face he lifts you off ground and carry towards a car, Jennifer waits for him.

“Is she dead?”

“I do not kill everyone I come across Jennifer” peter said before pausing for minute “it depends on who you are and my feeling of the day” placing on you the back seat, a buzzing reached his ears and lands on your pocket.

He takes it without a thought and roll his eyes at the texts and calls before putting back in your pocket.

He turns to Jennifer “you know where to take her”. She node at him before driving away

Far away in the exosphere the phoenix force let out a cry of anguish at the entity for taking you as host before the force could. Orange bright wings with a little mixture of yellow and red shines now the both have to wait and see how you overcome and then the force will decide if you should be able to be its host or not.

Sheila waits in the porch for you to get home, this isn’t the first time you come late but this feels different. You never been this late and she know that you know she will be waiting for you and doesn’t want to worry her and the murders has been going on you usually come earlier and you didn’t even answer her texts or calls.

She gets got bonnie bed, the day had been hard on her learning that she was witch and her grams words are true took a toll on her.

She hesitates thumb hover over the contact she dials.

Drools fall on the pillow as stiles slept peacefully murmuring something about unicorns and supernatural. The obnoxious ringtone of his phone wake him from his slumber, startled he sit up whining he pick up the phone without look at the id

“You better have something fucking important to say”

The other side pause he was about the throw the phone away and continue his precious sleep your grams voice says his name. Stiles eyes wide realizing he just cursed at your grams.

“Stiles?”

“Oh…… God… I was talking to myself……. I would never curse at you…….it just sleep talking”

“It’s alright stiles…. I was calling to see if y/n is with you?” stiles now fully awake scott told him that you were gone home after talking with derek and that’s been hours ago.

“She is not home?” he asks tensely

“No… is she with you or Scott’s home. She didn’t even answer my calls or texts?” her worry was evident on her voice

“of course, she isn’t home…. Because she is sleeping right here…… we just having sleepover?” stiles pat the pillow next to him and slowly get up, balancing his phone by his shoulder he gets wear his pants and take a shirt from the floor.

“Really didn’t you have one recently? Stiles, tell me the truth is she with you?” her tone made stiles pause. A part of him want to cover for you, but other part of doesn’t want to lie to your grams. He takes his keys and starts to make his way to hallway of his home.

“don’t worry she is alright…...she is sleeping”

A sigh of relief can be heard “well when she wakes up come see me first thing in the morning”

“Yep…got it”

After he hung up, he quietly as he can get out the house. Getting inside his jeep he makes way to scotts home. All the texts and calls unanswered made him nauseous, he doesn’t know what happened why you don’t respond to him and grams. Scott texted him that’s you gone home after talking with derek and that’s was like hours ago you should be home by now sleeping. His thought all the possibility but nothing defined your absence other than something really happened.

He curses your name “you better be fucking alright. I swear to God I can never sleep peacefully.”

He throws a little rock at scott’s window he is in no mood of climbing his legs already feels jelly. He so closes to screaming his name from top of his lungs.

“Fucking finally”

“What the hell are you doing stiles in the middle of the night” scotts unclear voice asked looking down at stiles.

“Mowing your lawn, what do you think?” stiles hiss

Scott sigh at him not having the energy to entertain “stiles, its middle of the night. quit it.”

“I’m sorry alright, grams just called me saying y/n isn’t home and she is not answering any of my call or texts”

Scott stands straight “what do you mean, she gone home right after our talk. She should be home sleeping by now”

“Yeah, expect the fact she is not and I just lied grams that we’re having sleeping over”

Stiles throws his hands in air “I was nervous okey, I didn’t want worry her. Now I’m stressing the fuck out here. What if she became late night desert for a vampire or turned to shudder cheese”

Scott’s mouth open and close like fish in water “stiles…...that’s……”

“Horrible I know…….im sorry I don’t know what to do…”

Scott thing for a moment before leaving the window making stiles frown suddenly scott jump out the window swiftly landing Infront of stiles, he stumbles at hands clenching his heart eyes comically wide.

“DUDE, WARNING A WARNING”

“Shh…. Come on mom is sleeping”

Scott and stiles sit in his jeep, seeing scott type away stiles sigh “it’s a waste of time”

“Where could’ve she go?”

A unknow caller id pop on stiles phone he declines it one hand still on the wheels as the drive around the neighborhood. It rings again he decline after continuous ringing Scott take it from him accepting the call.

His face pales when he hears what the caller said he turns to Stiles “to the hospital”

“What? Why? who is that?” stiles questions

“it’s a nurse. She said y/n is in the hospital. She might put your number in the emergency number” scott answer.

Stiles drives to the route to the hospital “what happened? Is she okey?”

“She is unconscious didn’t explain much”

Stiles gulps “I swear to god I’m going to whoop her ass when she opens her eyes”

Stiles and scott walk into the room that you’re in after getting the number from the nurse at the front desk. “Is she alright?” scott ask the nurse as stiles move towards you.

The nurse sigh “the thing is we don’t know what’s wrong with her?”

Scott frown at that “what do you mean?”

“Someone left her like this at the front of the building the guard saw a car leaving, when we checked her heart was accelerating so fast, we thought she might have tachycardia but she clams down. We tried to wake her up but as you can see, we couldn’t. we run some test for any substance that caused this state but found none. So far, we didn’t find anything that might cause this.”

“So, she is in some kind of deep asleep” stiles look down at you sleeping away without a worry while he and scott almost had heart attack.

Once the nurse is gone scott take off his jacket and let it rest on the chair that was there walking towards your bed.

“Should we tell her grams?” he asks

Stiles looks at him with an uncertain face “I don’t know, we will just wait for to wake up”

Scott leans in and check your neck and stiles watches carefully “she isn’t bit right?”

“No there is no bite marks or even a scratch” scott expression change into puzzled while stiles sigh in relief.

Scott leans towards your face sniffing he does it few times and stiles face twist uncomfortably “dude you’re being weird”

His eyes wide mouth hung open “I smell a werewolf on her” stiles mirror his expression; they both look at you with concern.

Series masterlist

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thewitcheslibrary · 1 month

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Protection 101

Words When it comes to defending your energy, emotional, and mental well-being, power words are very simple and powerful instruments. These are all the facets of existence that are interconnected. A power word is one that contains a great deal of significance and symbolism, as the name implies. It is associated with a very particular vibe.

Love, om, and peace are only a few examples of powerful words; there are many more. Your power phrase frequently defies what is being place. A cool response might be your power word when someone irritates you. Consider the phrase invincible when you're feeling depleted, and the word light when you're feeling uplifted.

Simply keep the power word that resonates with you at that particular moment at the forefront of your mind. As much as you can, open yourself up to the word's energy and allow its vibrational frequency to permeate every molecule and fibre of your body and fill your aura. Feel the word's impact on your body, mind, heart, soul, and spiritual energy systems, or see it happening. If it aids in your concentration, you can silently repeat the word many times. It may quickly and amazingly restore your spiritual vigour, mental clarity, and emotional equilibrium in a matter of minutes.

Breath in your power

There are many times in life when we may feel overburdened, tense, and reactive. These triggers have the power to derail you, disrupt your calm, and affect all of your emotions. Our auras are reflections of every emotion we experience. Our aura is strengthened and diminished by anger, but it is strengthened by love and pleasure. It's helpful to know this easy breathing method since it may quickly realign the body, mind, soul, and spiritual energy.

Just shut your lips and take slow, gentle breaths through your nose. As your breath enters and exits your body, let your attention follow suit. Observe the ascent and descent of your chest. Drop your shoulders and clench your jaw while keeping your breathing in mind. Five deep, deliberate breaths in and out are already effective!

Studies have shown that only breathing exercises can have a profound and immediate impact on your entire body, mind, spirit, and energy systems. However, by incorporating a creative vision, you can increase its potency even further. Imagine a ray of light (or whatever higher force you believe in) falling onto your head from the galaxy. Imagine that with each breath you take, you are drawing in this cosmic light to purify and invigorate you, and with each exhale, you are breathing out any unwanted energy, tension, or negativity that you may be carrying. Breath work can transform you even for a short while. Just keep in mind that these kinds of exercises get simpler and more natural the more you do them.

Seal off your spiritual energy field

By doing this practice, you can close off your aura and shield yourself from other people, circumstances, and surroundings. All you have to do is visualise yourself standing inside an enormous bubble that is transparent, pliable, and unbreakable. You are surrounded by the bubble, which forms a strong protection that moves with you.

Imagining that the top of the bubble is connected to the universe and that lovely, cosmic energy is flowing into your holy area is one way to experiment with and enhance this visualisation. You can use pink for love, blue for healing, red for energy, or gold for a cosmic link to alter the hue of your bubble. Actually, feel free to include whatever components that motivate you. Perhaps you would like to visualise a relative, either alive or in the hereafter, standing behind you in your bubble, giving you strength and empowerment. Even your four-legged companions are welcome to attend!

A mirror is a fantastic visualisation that is frequently employed. Imagine a giant mirror materialising in front of you if you ever wish to stop other people's energy from ever reaching your spiritual being. The mirror deflects all of the energy directed towards you, sending it back towards the source. Never undervalue the impact that imaginative visualisations may have. Empirical studies have demonstrated that visualising something has just as much power as really executing it!

A cloak of protection

Being able to shield your aura can be helpful in a variety of situations, including taking public transportation, going to crowded offices, and being around irritable people. Just picture yourself wearing a long, flowing cloak made of the deepest blue, similar to the midnight blue of the night sky. You might envision pulling up the hood of this cloak to protect your head, or crown chakra. The cloak's lining may have magical properties; it might be pink, silver, golden, or multicoloured. Magical symbols can be used to decorate both the interior and outside of it. Pull on your cloak whenever you feel the need to shield your energies and self from outside influences. This potent visualisation stimulates your creative faculties and sets a clear energetic intention.

Natures cure

There are several advantages to spending time in nature. The consequences of ageing and inflammation are countered by being in nature and grounding with her energy, which also cleanses and energises the body, mind, and soul. Your auric shield will become more powerful as a result of feeling stronger and more grounded. Thus, if you can, try to schedule some time to take a stroll near the water, a park, or a forest. And while you're there, intentionally consider the healing energy exchanges occurring there as well as the gift of nature's beauty.

Grounding oneself is another method for revitalising your aura. If you spend a lot of time working, thinking, and being in your thoughts, this is a very beneficial workout! If you can't go outside, close your eyes and visualise being there. Ideally, you should do this outside. Remove your shoes and plant your feet squarely on the earth. As you attach your feet to the soil, sense how the earth's energy interacts with your body's energy system. Consider growing roots from the soles of your feet that go deep into the ground to give this grounding technique even more potent depth. You physically ground yourself and find stability through these roots. Envision a scenario whereby your positive and negative energy emanates from you and enters the soil, and in return, the energy of Mother soil enters your body through your feet and roots, flowing throughout all of your energy systems to revitalise, purify, and restore you. Perhaps you might offer up a prayer of gratitude to Mother Earth for her healing powers.

Cleansing

Energy exchanges, not all of which are upbeat and good, take place as a result of your aura's ongoing interaction with the environment. Your aura may protect you by staying alive and energetically powerful if you know how to cleanse it. A great approach to accomplish this is by taking a salt bath, which gives you the chance to dedicate thirty or forty minutes to spiritual self-care.

#witchcraft #witchcore #witchblr #witch #pagan witch #protection #cleansing

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the-cosmic-gentle-giant · 2 years

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Hi. What placements in natal chart indicate being a o good painter/artist? Thanks.💖

Hi friendo! Let's see...

Based on personal observations:

🌻Aries, Libra, Pisces and Scorpio Suns were the most common in art classes I attended.

🌻Occasionally Taurus Suns, but I found them to be rarer than the above 4

🌻Aries, Cancer or Pisces Moon most commonly I noticed

🌻Venus, Moon or Neptune Dominance

The following are speculation, they are possible, but not set in stone or personally observed by me...based on feeling

🌻Moon in 4th or 12th

🌻Most 12th House placements I feel

🌻Venus in 4th, 5th, 9th and 12th I feel as well

🌻Neptune in 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th or 12th

🌻Virgo placements...surprisingly, their attention to detail could make it work

🌻Also Pisces or Venusian Mercuries

That's about it tho, lemme know what you think and feel free to give feedback

Have a nice day friendo!

#the cosmic gentle giant #astrology #astrology on tumblr #astrology observations #astro notes #giant has answered

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royaleofury · 2 years

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ʜᴇʙᴇ( ᴀꜱᴛᴇʀᴏɪᴅ 6)

ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴏᴅᴅᴇꜱꜱ ᴏꜰ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ

𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐙𝐞𝐮𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐚. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐬. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐒𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐀𝐥𝐞𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐬. 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐆𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐞. 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝟏) 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝟐) 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭/ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝟑) 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐬/ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞.

Credits to @a-d-nox for their research and information on Hebe asteroid. Their posts are super helpful in understanding asteroid. Do follow them up✨

Special thanks to the people who helped me out for this post : @ceyrann @tinselxoxo26 @the-cosmic-gentle-giant @prachita079 @timelessday @alaezasmystery @stardust-selene-xo @mystical-spark @ethernalneo @lilithbaeastro

⚘ 𝟣𝓈𝓉 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐚𝐥𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬, 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐠, 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫/𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲/𝐟𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐧𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲.

⚘ 𝟤𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐬( 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬) 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐮𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲/ 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟, 𝐥𝐞𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐰.

⚘ 𝟥𝓇𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲. 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲. 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 " 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?". 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 ( 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞,𝐞𝐭𝐜) , 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞.

⚘ 𝟦𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐧𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞. 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐭𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐏𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧/ 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭. 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝, 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐜𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝.

⚘ 𝟧𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯( 𝐧𝐨 𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥), 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐜, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐞𝐜𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐢𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 / 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦.

⚘ 𝟨𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 " 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝" 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫. 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬/ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬/ 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐬. 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭. 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 "𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔". 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐡*𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐞/𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐰𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲.

⚘ 𝟩𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝/ 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜. 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩. 𝐀𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 , 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞/ 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐟𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝.

Side note: I had the most difficulty writing for this section.

⚘ 𝟪𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠/ 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭/ 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭. 𝐈𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭. 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐢𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡. 𝐂𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭. 𝐀𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡*𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐢𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛*𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲, 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭, 𝐨𝐜𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐞𝐭𝐜. 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 ��𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭.

⚘ 𝟫𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬! 🗿𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩/ 𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝. 𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡. 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 .

⚘ 𝟣𝟢𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. 𝐈𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭. 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 " 𝐍𝐨 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐍𝐨 𝐆𝐚𝐢𝐧", 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐢𝐟 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟. 𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐈𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐞.

⚘ 𝟣𝟣𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐛𝐞. 𝐈 𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨,𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬( 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐬). 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬. 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞.

⚘ 𝟣𝟤𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓈𝑒

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝. 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬🗿. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐠𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐠 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐎𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 , 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭

╰┈➤ ❝ ᴀꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛꜱ ❞ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʙᴇ

☁️ Sun- Hebe : Can indicate that you have to provide your help and service to your father or authority figures in the present life time. If the aspects are difficult, can indicate that you have good amount of ego and do not lower it down when while providing helps to others. If the aspects the positive, can indicate that even though, you need good amount of praise for your service to others but not getting it will not stop you from helping out people in need.

☁️Moon- Hebe : Can indicate that you have to serve mother or mother like figures in the present lifetime. This can indicate service in a way where you showcase your nurturing qualities. Where you encourage the other person to let their emotions out to you and that they can trust you.

☁️Jupiter - Hebe: this can indicate that you try to use your knowledge to provide service to others. Can also show that with your knowledge you sometimes, have the tendency to correct the teachers while they are teaching. But if there are difficult aspects, make sure you don not come off as boasting your knowledge because Jupiter is a large, big planet, as much as knowledge you have, it can difficult for you to use them in the right direction.

☁️Mercury - Hebe : this can indicate you having to use your intelligence, skills and communication skills in order to help out people. If the aspects are difficult, can indicate that you are always criticising yourself in a way that you feel " I have done something more better to help them", or like you feel like your skills aren't enough to serve others. Expect the vice versa if the aspects are harmonious.

☁️Venus - Hebe : can indicate helping out romantic partners in every possible manner. Can also indicate using up finances to help them out. If the aspects are difficult, can indicate that your relationship exhaust you or give too much in your relationships. Can also indicate blinded by love.

☁️Mars-Hebe: can indicate motivating people and helping them in their personal glow up( like physical glow up). Can also indicate people telling your deepest secrets. Difficult aspects can indicate that you often end up spilling their secrets in one way or the other.

☁️Saturn - Hebe : can indicate that you help out by giving them the advice that they need. Can also show that you refuse to choose the easy path while helping them out because you don't believe in smart work, it's hard work for you. Difficult aspects can indicate you refusing to help due to lack of confidence .

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