My Heart!

Gentle Witchcraft

Just a collection of witchy things that give off a gentle, loving energy without being focused on self love or romantic love specifically <3

It’s the little things:

Gentle little witch things to do

Witchy blessings

I AM… spells

Witch’s morning routine

Glamours:

Glow like the moon

Shine like the sun

To radiate a loving aura

Spells:

To attract kindness

Soft shores bath spell

Quartz wellness bath

Here comes the sun

My love soothes you pet spell

Dandelion wish spell

Restful sleep and sweet dreams

Rose water spells

Room healing spell

Ease the pain

Tarot spreads:

Good morning!

Reduce anxiety 

The new you

Let go and grow

Sigils:

Shimmer and shine

Radical softness

To promote peaceful feelings

Inner peace

I will make it through this

I am comfortable in my own skin

Now there is no step she can take in any direction. She weeps suddenly, stops suddenly, laughs. Sorry! I’m empty. I mean, tired. Today. Inside her chest everything is ablaze.

— Anne Carson, "Poor Houdini" (x)

Burglar in the house

Summary: The boys were trying to surprise you by coming home early from a deployment. They end up being surprised themself.

Authors note; I'm really rusty, if anyone can give me tips I'd appreciate it! (Shut the comment section if you have nothing usefull to say though <3)

Soap

-gets so offended

-secretly impressed

-milks it for attention

Soap nearly trips over the coffee table in his attempt to navigate the dark living room. He's trying to be quiet, trying not to wake you. The plan was to slip into bed without you noticing so he could be the first thing you see when you woke up early in the morning. Two days ago you had whined to him on the phone how you had to wake up at the crack of dawn to come pick him up from base. Lucky for you, the mission had ended just a bit early, giving him the opportunity to take a cab and surprise you.

His hand wraps around the handle of the bedroom door, blood pumping like he's on a mission. It's thanks to that adrenaline that he can avoid the gass bottle you swing at him as soon as the door is open. He can't react fast enough to keep from loosing his balance when you barrel into him, the momentum of your attack causing you to slip.

The air is knocked out of him first by the impact with the floor and then by you landing on his chest. He hits his elbow and curses when the funny bone in it starts singing.

"What the hell. Bonnie?" his eyes squint in the dark, hands warm against your waist.

"Johnny? What are you- I thought you were a burglar! What are you doing here?" you try to scramble off of him, conscious of your full weight on him. His grip tightens and you give up all too easily. Your hands tremble from the fright he'd given you.

"So you try to kill me? And I thought I meant something to you..."

"I wasn't trying to kill you, I thought-" you ramble on until you catch the way his lips quirk up with supressed laughter. His eyes glint with humor even in the little light coming in through the window. Slapping at his chest, you finally pull away and reach to switch on the light. And there he was, the man you missed for almost five weeks now, pinned under you and looking all smug after giving you the scare of your life. "It's the middle of the night, what are you doing sneaking around the house you idiot?"

Still straddeling your boyfriend on the ground, you try to stand, planning to return to your warm bed but he pulls you back down to him.

"You wouldn't leave me all alone on the floor now, would you bonnie?" he's giving you wounded eyes, lips pouty and unbelievably kissable. "See, I hit my elbow!" he lifts it next to his face. You squint at it, leaning close to assess the damage. Only he surges forward and steals a kiss from you, eyes twickeling in delight as you glare at him. In the end you can't stay mad at him when he looks at you like that, but you do insist on taking the smooching to bed.

Ghost

-so proud

-loves that you'd be able to defend yourself in case of an actual break-in

-thinks it's really hot

The house is too quiet when he kicks his boots off, low lights on, meaning you were still awake. You always had some kind of background noise running, silence setting you on edge like it did him. He had planned on surprising you by coming home for your two year anniversary. The mission had run a bit dry with the leads going nowhere and he had convinced Price to give him two days off to spend with you. The flowers he had bought for you now lay forgotten on the bench in the entryway, freeing his hands for a knife.

He's creeping through the house trying to find you when you dart out of the kitchen, roaring a battle cry, slashing at him. He sidesteps you, narrowly avoiding the second attack and disarming you on the third. Your bread knife and his combat knife clutter to the floor as he presses your back to his chest, arms caging you in. You struggle against him, spitting curses at what you think is an intruder. His blood is roaring with adrenaline and the relief of having you safe in his arms

"Bloody hell love, it's just me." he grunts in your ear as you kick at him, arms pinned to your side. You still in his grasp, vibrating with energy.

"Simon? But you aren't supposed to come back until-"

"Couldn't let you spend our aniversary alone. Didn't expect this greetig though." if you didn't know him as well as you did, you might take the rasp in his voice as annoyance. Luckily, you recognize it from many times spent entangled with each other. That and you can feel him poke your ass.

Gaz

-s h o c k e d

-thinks it's the funniest thing in the world

-will not let it go, teases you forever (lovingly)

The music is blasting when he comes home. He kind of expected you to come running, excited to see him after two month of absence. Then again he supposes you didn't hear the door fall shut over your own singing. He follows the sound to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe to watch you sing and dance to your favourite music. You are busy whisking batter in a bowl, hips swaying. When he can finally tear his eyes from your ass, he sees your cookbook, the recipe for his favourite cake open.

The soft smile on his lips quickly fades when you decide to twirl with the bowl in your arms, loud singing turning into a startled screech as you spot the man in your kitchen. You hurl the whisk at him quicker than you can recognize him and it plaps harmlessly against his chest. You both stare at each other, deers caught in a headlight, music still blasting. Slowly, he looks down at the stain on his tshirt, meets your eyes again and you both just double over in laughter.

"So I make it the whole deployment without getting hit only to be attacked by my partner..!" Gaz is wheezing with laughter, pulling you into him. You jokingly hit his chest, shaking with your own amusement.

"Stop, you're getting it all over me!" you grin up at him, loosing yourself in the molten brown eyes you know so well.

"Only fair my little assassin." he plants kisses all over your face and you wrap your arms around his neck.

He will tell this story to the team and all of his friends and your friends. He'll bring it up at every family get together too, just to see you blush and squirm.

Price

-sort of reassured that you can defend yourself

-has to comfort you, you feel so guilty

-trains you in self-defense

When Price opens the door to the bedroom, he has no chance to duck away from the book that comes flying at his face. You have the bedside lamp raised over your head, ready to strike the intruder but recognize him in time. The hardcover book you had thrown at him as a distraction had hit his face, a corner digging into his cheek. He's still not quite sure of what happened when you let the lamp fall to the floor and rush at him.

"John! I'm sorry, I thought you were trying to rob me- You're bleeding, I'm so sorry, let's get you fixed-"

You're shaking as you turn his head this and that way, hands gentle against his cheeks. Tears are gathering in your eyes, guilt swallowing you whole. You're trying to drag him to the bathroom where the first aid kit is when he gently cups your face.

"I'm fine love, look at me." all you can see is the drop of blood from the wound you caused. You watch as it seeps into his beard.

"I didn't mean to hit you, but there's been so many break-ins recently and I heard someone creeping through the house and you aren't supposed to be home until-" he cuts you off with a gentle kiss, slightly chapped lips moving against you until you have to part for air. Foreheads pressed together, you marvel at each other.

"You're good. I'm good. Your book might have a few dog ears though." his eyes crinkle when you blink at him all dazed.

Yes!! I go on vacation the week around my birthday so I can have my special day where nothing and noone matters but me! Its the best birthdays I can remember (even if it is a bit lonely sometimes but I much prefer that over mandated family meetings or stressing about a party I have to plan). Do it! Do it scared bit do it! If you dont like it, dont do it next year but try it! Personally I usually also go place where I dont have wifi so I can detox from my way to high screentime too. Its amazing I could go on and on and on and on

Let me tell you, I've taken lots of vacations by myself, and I've also taken lots of vacations with other people, and by far vacationing solo is the easiest, most stress-free vacation you can imagine. There's some kind of societal stigma against this. Ignore this. Vacationing by yourself is amazing. There is zero negotiation or compromise. You do exactly what you want to do when you want to do it. You eat whatever you want to eat, whenever you want to eat it. You pursue whatever tourist attraction you want, or none at all. It is the purest release from all obligations and responsibilities. You don't need to worry about whether anyone else is walking faster than you or slower than you and you've lost them in a crowd, did they want to do something different, have you railroaded them into doing what you want to do?

And it's easier to buy solo tickets to things. It's easier to squeeze into crowded bars. Everything about it is just so incredibly relaxing. Don't let society talk you out of it. It's obviously good to socialize and have friends and family who you want to hang out with and see, etc., etc., and it's okay if traveling solo just doesn't appeal to you at all. I'm just saying, I was just on vacation with people, and I had a great time, but we were out to dinner at the hotel restaurant and at the table next to us was a woman by herself having a glass of wine and eating spinach and artichoke dip for dinner while she read a novel and I was just like, honestly, I know that kind of dinner and it's so great lol. If you've ever wondered what it's like to travel solo, it's like that: dip for dinner and a glass of wine and a book lol

Do you have any ways to check in a fanfic is written by AI? I have no trouble detect if a work email is written by AI but when it comes to fanfic, I just can't. English is my second language too. There are a bunch of fics of this one author on Wattpad that when I was reading, it feels weird? A little bit uncanny. I don't want to misunderstand them if it's just a me problem but I also hate everyone using AI to write so I'd appreciate a method or a tool to check. Thank you.

I don't have any solid indicators, however, if it feels off, you're likely noticing something off about the writing. The "em-dash" claim (that AI uses em dashes a lot) isn't really something to rely on.

(A better way to identify AI is an overuse of bullet lists, which, uh, I'm about to do, so here goes.)

Inconsistencies and repetition. This is a tough one right out of the gate, but all writers have a style. There's a turn of phrase, sentence structure, or common words that tend to pop up in their writing again and again. AI, on the other hand, does not stick to a distinctive style. It may repeat the same sentence structure over and over, or seem overly formerly written, especially in dialogue. The longer a document/fic, the more repetitive writing structures you will see.

Lack of depth or subtlety. Do the descriptions feel stilted or odd? Are the metaphors mixed together in a way that doesn't make sense (describing something dark using a comparison to something bright, odd comparisons that you've never heard before, etc)? Does it feel like the emotions are flat and not connecting to the story? All of these things could be things to watch out for.

Perfect grammar. I'm still finding grammatical errors in stories I wrote years ago. No amount of spellcheck will save me from a typo. AI never has that problem, but it also won't use punctuation to make a point (like using commas to indicate a speech pattern).

Updated too damn fast. If someone is uploading thousands of words a day, there's no way they're writing the story themselves. Massive, rapid-fire updates are something to keep an eye out for.

Now, all of these things alone do not indicate someone is using AI. Everyone's written a bad metaphor before, some people are great at grammar, and folks new to writing may have an inconsistent writing style. As you have noticed, speaking English as a second language makes folks overly prone to being flagged as using AI, which is also not helpful.

There's also no perfect AI checker, as most tend to throw up false positives. But the longer the story, the more indicators will pop up. Scenes might get repetitive, or sex scenes start to feel the same.

I also, unfortunately, don't have any advice for what to do if you feel like AI is being used to write fanfiction. You certainly don't want to falsely accuse someone of using it publicly (though I'd reach out to friends to see if they have the same suspicions). Ultimately, the best case scenario is that people will identify when they use AI (there's a whole tag for it on AO3), but I don't know how common that will become. In a pinch, when I suspect something has been plagiarized or written by AI, I shift the writer to my "do not read" pile and move on.

"What if my friends secretly hate me?" What if they pray for you before bed? What if they hear a song come on and it makes them immediately think of you? What if when times are hard for them, they close their eyes and think of the memories they've shared with you? What if they study your face closely to see how you're feeling? What if they listen to your stories? What if they smile when you text them first? What if

That pleasure dom Kyle thought has me thinking about pleasure dom Kyle who knows you've had a hard day at work and is ready for you when you get home. He's sitting on the couch, there's an old comfort movie of yours on in the background, and he's got a cushion by his feet all ready for you.

A smile, warm and welcoming and he says: "Come and kneel for me, precious."

and you do, hardly remembering to kick off your shoes before you all but collapse to his feet in trained submission. You wrap your arms around the back of his knees, lay your head on his lap and allow yourself to fold around his warmth with the low sound of the TV in the background. Kyle wraps a warm, comforting hand around the back of your neck- a reminder of his presence, of who you belong to.

and you just...float. You allow yourself to drift into that fuzzy sort of headspace where everything else becomes so unimportant compared to Kyle, to being just like this for him- sweet and gentle at his feet and being good for him the way you're supposed to be. Kyle strokes a thumb against your nape in slow, deliberate circles- petting you into further relaxation under his touch.

Once he deems you finally pliant enough, it's easy enough to maneuver you onto the couch and spread your legs for him so he can really get to work- offering slow, gentle, rolling orgasms that have you whine and mewl under his clever tongue. He calls you his sweet thing, lovie, doll, and by the end you're floating so blissfully in the haze of your orgasms, in the pleasure of being good that it takes all your effort to allow him to dress you in PJs and settle you both back down for a long, well deserved nap.

Ace folks are queer. Die mad.

There are still apparently folks (some with genuinely good intentions, some just looking to outrage farm) who don't get why asexual/aromantic folk belong in queer spaces.

I'm ace. So if you keep saying "Someone explain it to me!" here's your explanation, right from the source:

The queer community (at least in my part of the world, yours may be different) is for anyone who doesn't fit into 'standard' cis/hetero norms. Ace people are not attracted to the people we're 'supposed' to be. This often leads to very different values and lived experiences from cultural 'norms.'

It's a different experience than many other LGBTQ+ people have, yes. And it's easier to hide in straight spaces. But it's also easier to hide in straight spaces as a bisexual, cis woman than as a trans woman, or a lesbian woman, or any number of other things. Our camouflage options don't define us, just as they don't define you. You do not become a bush when you put on a ghillie suit. Is my experience different from yours? Probably. BOTH of our experiences may be different from a cis gay man's. That doesn't mean his experiences are invalid, unworthy of support, or not in need of protection.

Exclusionist takes stem from the same attitudes conservatives have about women's clothes. I'm not kidding (and I grew up in that space so @ me at your peril). If a conservative person lived in the 1920's, women shouldn't wear pants. Hardline view right there. But in the 70's and 80's jeans and trousers had become so normalized only the MOST conservative groups had any kind of opinion on them, and nowadays skirt-only groups are even rarer.

Exposure and experience made those garments cultural standards instead of something scary and new.

The same thing happens in all spaces, including queer culture.

Ace/aro folks aren't new to the planet, but we've only gotten any significant attention relatively recently. Because people may have to stop and consider out experiences instead of nodding along and going, "Yes, I know what gay generally means," the natural instinct is to push it away.

Challenge that instinct.

We're a community, not a clone factory. We're supposed to be celebrating diversity this month, not playing Mean Girls and defining our moral superiority by who we exclude.

And people think I'm smart...