#…. that can be construed in more ways than one…

[la-principessa-nuova]

It's no different than looking out of a window and saying "Oh, it's raining today, maybe I'll bring an umbrella"

It’s more like “Oh, it’s raining today, something bad will happen at work today so I should quit.”

Like people can and do take it very literally and make extreme decisions based on it. Some people really do decide who to date or not based on it. Some managers have chosen who to hire or not based on it.

okay agreed but mercury retrograde is kinda real. i could not for the life of me get a new phone that worked…

one experience of your own that happens to line up with one thing from astrology does not prove astrology or even that one part of it.

The thing that keeps astrology so convincing is confirmation bias. There are so many different versions of astrology and so many ways to interpret anything and so many people in the world experiencing so many moments, that occasionally some experiences align with some predictions. People seek out the cases that “prove” it and ignore the way more things that didn’t align.

If I say “based on the alignment of the stars, look out for broken toes today” to a million of people in the morning, someone’s probably going to reach out later and be like “whoa, you were right, i did break my toe today!” And even if they don’t break it, maybe someone’s like “I stubbed my toe really bad and it didn’t break but weird, right! there’s something to it!” Or even “I didn’t break my toe, but the foot broke off of my favorite figurine.”

Now imagine instead I say 10 things like that to all 1 million people every day for a year. Then the number of people each day who have something happen to them that relates to what i said will increase, approximately ten-fold, plus some that align even more interestingly with multiple of those things overlapping, plus people who had yesterday’s thing a day late and see the prediction as truthful bc of that, etc.

And over the year, that’s 365x the opportunities. So we’ve increased the chance of some correlation by at least 3650x over the one prediction in one day. And people will hear stories of others who had things line up, and after a few things line up around them, they will start to believe it more.

And as they do, they will search more and more for things to stretch to ascribe to my predictions. Humans love looking for patterns that aren’t there.

So that’s the expected behavior if i just started giving out random predictions to a large group of people. Does that sound different than astrology?

Compare that to a weather forecast since that example was brought up. If I look at my weather forecast and it says it will rain tomorrow, chances are pretty good it actually will rain tomorrow. If it says it will be 75°F and Sunny, it will almost certainly be within 5°F of that and at least mostly sunny. Yes it makes quite a few predictions, but most of them are right within the expected margin of error, and when they’re way off, you can kinda see what happened, like the storm turned and went further East and missed your area.

Astrology, on the other hand, makes a ton of predictions, like way more, often conflicting, and makes them really vague (not “there is a 85% chance of rain from 2pm-3pm tomorrow” but more like “something with water or ice or snow or humidity will be positively affected in some way somehow in the next 30 days”), and it is wrong the vast percentage of the time. But there are so many things we don’t notice the ones that were wrong. We forget them. But we remember the ones that happened to align. And if one sticks in our head beforehand, we will look out of things we can ascribe to it.

It’s like weather the predictions are the left image, and astrology is more like the right.

but also in astrology there are so many more things being predicted that it almost would make more sense to just color in the entire image with 50% opacity black because almost anything could be construed as being predicted by some part of astrology.

it does still make me insane specifically how many queer people lovingly embrace astrology. I went to a poetry workshop yesterday that was genuinely quite good but also included an option to disclose astrology designations during introductions and so many people broke out some variation of "I'm a [x] sum but I have a [y] placement and it SHOWS" girl no it doesn't. that's meaningless correlation you completely invented the causation

[marginal-notes]

having constant thoughts about the incredible economic value of mokuton, like yeah, no shit the Uzumaki got that down on lock with a marriage alliance. they live by water. they gotta have boats. what do you build boats with. what do you repair buildings damaged by storms with.

having constant thoughts about lumber and salt and food and trade.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction To You Being Their Controversially Young Girlfriend

Warnings: Implied Smut, Legal Age Gap, Age Gap Relationships, Daddy Kink, Older Man/Younger Woman, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Possessive MW2, Degradation, Mention of Corruption, Mentions of Innocence, Mentions of Naivety, Praise Kink (M Giving), Implied Choking Kink, Angry Sex, Groping, Brat Taming, Man Handling/Woman Handling, Dumbification Kink, Gentle MW2, Rough MW2, Self-Consciousness, Mentions of Blood/Injury, Insecurity, Profanity, Pet Names, Fem Pronouns Used For Reader.

Ghost

Pretends he doesn’t care about the age gap, but he secretly does.

You’d never know it, but he worries that he’s roping you into a relationship – a long-term one at that – when you should be out, meeting guys, gaining life experience.

He also fears that, in some way, he’s corrupting you, that his selfish desire to keep you close to him will lead to you being targeted or you eventually resenting him.

It doesn’t matter how many times you tell him otherwise, he’s still going to worry about you.

There are a few ways you can put his mind at ease, though. Namely of the bedroom variety.

More on this later 👀.

He spoils you silly, absolutely rotten. Anything that catches that pretty little eye of yours and he’s already got it gift wrapped. He feels it’s the least he can do after you’ve shown  him that life isn’t just an endless cycle of suffering – an infinitum of anguish – that he does deserve happiness and a chance at love.

Very gentle during sex. Unless you ask him not to be.

Expect a lot of praise in bed.

Many a night have you found yourself pinned under Simon, his mouth to your ear as he pants, moaning, telling you how you’re “Such a good girl, taking me so well,” while he fills you with long, languid strokes.

Other times, he’s not so gentle.

Oftentimes, usually as a result of purposefully making Ghost jealous, have you been pinned against a hard surface – one of convenience rather than comfort – with Simon at your back, the tent in his pants catching you.

His voice is deep, husking and carnal as he reminds you who you belong to.

“Like having your pretty little cunt ravaged by an older man, don’t you, Love.”

He’s very protective of you.

He sometimes construes your young age as innocence, naivete. Hence, he never lets you out of his sight when you’re out together.

Scary dog privileges.

Absolutely feral, down bad for you: you only have to do or say the most minimal of things to make him melt, to become a slave to his adoration for you.

That being said, he’s paranoid that one day you’ll see him as he views himself and leave him for someone better – someone you deserve. Someone younger.

He’s damaged goods, you still have your whole life to live. And yet you stay with him, promise him that he’s the only man you’ll ever love.

As stated earlier, Simon can be persuaded of your dedication to him via special, particular means.

However, if you play into his insecurities, even to get a rise out of him, he’ll pounce on you, grab your wrists and pin you to a wall, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him.

And, beneath dark lashes and darker eyes, he makes a promise to you.

“Oh, you think a younger lover can pleasure you like I can?” he says, his head tilting. “Don’t you worry, Darling. I’ll fuck that idea outta that pretty little head of yours until the only thing rattling around in there is me.”

König

Somewhat insecure in your relationship. Especially when he gets disapproving glances and glares from passers-by when they note the very obvious age difference between the two of you.

But, his love for you can overcome any measure of anguish, social or otherwise.

He’s the gentlest giant you could ever hope to meet, both in and out of bed.

When he feels like it.

He treats you like you’re innocent and pure, shielding your eyes from graphic scenes on TV and gruesome stories in the newspaper.

Sometimes he has to remind himself that you’re a fully-grown woman, even if you are younger than him.

You send him absolutely feral whenever you wear his clothes btw.

Seeing as any one of his shirts could be your nightdress, he calls you his “Minnie Maus”, and treats you as such.

Pls sit on his lap, he’ll only be able to die happy once you do.

He fears judgement from others whenever you enact PDA, so to make up for his lack of willing to be physical with you in public, there isn’t a moment where you’re without him at home.

Extended periods of time in your presence tend to send him a bit…funny.

A little bit silly.

And by silly, I mean there’s a single thread of humanity keeping him from tearing your clothes off at any given second.

Especially if he’s seen a younger guy looking at you earlier in the day.

One of the few times he’ll get physical with you in public is whenever he catches someone looking at you with a glaze over their eyes he knows all too well.

He approaches you from behind, slipping a pythonic arm about your waist and pulling you into him.

Only now does your admirer look away, leave the premises entirely, once they catch sight of König’s gargantuan proportions and the rabid look in his eye.

Once you get home, he’s on you before you can even shut the door.

It’s times like these that König doesn’t feel insecure about the age gap between you.

Because he knows, no matter how little you’re willing to admit it, that nobody will ever be able to make you scream and cry and tremble like he can.

“Did you like that boy’s attention earlier, Maus?” he says, his eyes cattish and voice serpentine. He bears down on you, his hand about your throat as the other travels under your skirt.

“Is my love not enough? Are my affections wasted on you?”

His eyes glint in the dim light of the bedroom. His teeth look sharper – primal – in the low glow of the bedside lamp.

“No matter. I’ll make you remember how much you need me,” he presses into you. The bulge between his legs feels far too big for you to take.

“Inch by bloody inch.”

Valeria

You’re her little Angel, her Goddess, the light of her life and her reason for living.

That does not exempt you from her teasing, however.

Sexual or otherwise.

She’s particularly fond of randomly grabbing your backside when she’s walking past, or smacking it so hard that you yelp and she’s grinning from ear to ear.

Even if you use your puppy-dog eyes on her, disobedience is not accepted under her roof.

In fact, trying to wriggle out of any punishment she has planned is enough to make her grab you and pin you to a wall, her grip unrelenting as she sucks and bites your neck, leaving harsh red marks and a sense of helplessness as she does what she pleases with you.

“Don’t go fucking around behind my back again, Chiquita,” she tells you, her nose touching yours and her eyes black. She brings her knee between your legs, pressing into you.

“Or next time I won’t just stop at your throat.”

She loves dressing you up in the finest clothing money (and a ghastly reputation) can buy.

She thrives on having you hanging off her arm like a dog on a leash; she gets to show you off to her subordinates and business partners who know they’ll never even have the thought of having a chance with you entertained.

Valeria’s mood can fluctuate in bed.

Sometimes, she treats you like a common whore she found on the street, fucking every ounce of rage, hate and venom into you until some part of you’s left bleeding as Valeria’s panting on top of you, her lips to your cheeks as she kisses your tears away with a whiplash-inducing gentleness she seemed incapable of minutes ago.

Most of the time, she’s loving and kind, putting your needs above her own.

Sure, she still teases you, makes you work for her love and dedication, but you know she’d do anything for you.

You can tell in her tone as she tells you of how she would “Scorch the earth if only to find a fragment of you in the wreckage.”

You disappearing or being taken from her is her biggest fear, and at night she holds you tightly against her chest, your buffer against the world she would sooner see in flames than relinquish you to.

Price

He’s so father-coded fr.

He calls you his little girl, his Princess, Love, Darling, Dollie — anything that highlights your fragile nature.

Shows you off to his friends just so he can show them what they’re missing. He adores the feeling of you curling further into him under the eyes of his task force, the look in their eyes relating something savage, primal, as they look at your bare thighs – the pinnacle of which shadowed by John’s shirt – and watch something they can never have, never touch.

John hides his insecurity well, but he does secretly worry about the age gap.

Especially when he watches younger men looking at you in ways he does.

The difference being that, while they offered you the world and would give you nothing, you are John’s world.

When you can tell John’s feeling worried, comforting him is a surprisingly easy task.

A kiss to the temple and the promise that he’s the only man for you is usually enough to put his mind at ease and make his face break out into a smile.

On the rare occasion it isn’t, however, alternative methods are at your disposal.

E.g. screaming John’s name into the night as your nails drag down the expanse of his back, bodies scorching as he brings you to tears with his touch and his unrelenting pace.

He will absolutely hold his rank/age over you when he’s like this, no longer a point of contention or shame for him as he tells you he’s the “Only one who can make you whimper like a fuckin’ dog,”

“Such a good girl for me, my good little cocksleeve,” he rasps in your ear as he bounces you on top of him, his hands about your waist, preventing you from fleeing or falling off.

“God, you’re so beautiful — so— fuck— gorgeous.” He’s panting, gasping, growling.

“And all mine.”

Horangi

You’re the only thing that matters to him.

At this point, he only remains as a military contractor to ensure that he can keep you in the style to which you are accustomed.

Calls you 자기야 (Jagiya – Honey, Darling).

His favourite thing to do is sit you between his legs and wrap around you like armour.

In case you couldn’t tell, he’s highly protective of you.

You can make him do absolutely anything — he’s at your beck and call.

You can get him to buy you anything if you give him what he likes to call ‘kitten eyes’ eyes.

Even if you’re being a brat, he remains calm and treats you like his little angel, his sweetpea.

Unless you push him too far.

At which point, he won’t hesitate to tame you if you try your luck.

He’ll have you bent over his lap, holding you down with his forearm as he turns your thighs and backside red-raw with the slap of his belt.

“Don’t start crying now, 자기 — you brought this on yourself.”

He never fails in the aftercare department, though.

Always filling your head with words of affirmation as he bathes you, carrying you to bed and tending to your skin with soothing creams and soft touches.

Hong-jin goes super feral crazy when you call him 오빠.

A common honorific used towards any man older than the person using it.

Even if you don’t understand the implications of it, Hong-jin does. And yes, it does tend to make him a bit silly.

Silly enough to know that he’s not going to last long and needs to get home ASAP to deal with…something.

Which he also makes your problem, pressing messy, desperate kisses to your lips as he tries to get his shirt off, your hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat skyrocketing.

“I need you, (Y/N),” he says, breathless, almost growling. Yet, his eyes are wide, pleading. A doe-eyed prince with the aura of a wolf king. “And I’ll have every inch of you.”

Alejandro

Pre-established passionate lover.

One who is fiercely protective over you.

If anyone — and I mean anyone — catcalls you, makes passes at you, or even looks at you in the wrong way, Alejandro makes sure to enact righteous fury upon them.

He’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re 110% satisfied, regardless of context.

You want a new wardrobe ? It’s done. A new car ? All yours. You need Alejandro now and it can’t wait ? Why, how can he say no when you whine like that, when you tug at his sleeve and tuck your head against his shoulder.

He calls you “mi Princesa” and makes sure everybody knows you’re his and he’s yours.

A thorough lover is how you might describe him.

Especially after he’s so willing to bend you against the nearest surface to get you off, no matter the time of day.

You can bring him to his knees with just a look. Turn him from the most respected soldier in his department into a feral wolf.

Which, if you play your cards right, can end very well for both of you.

Alejandro likes to play a game whenever you’re riding him.

He grabs you by your hips and anchors you on top of him.

“Let’s see how long you can hold on for, mi Corazón,” he says, flashing you a sultry smile before he’s bucking into you at the pace of a mechanical rodeo horse at full speed.

“Holding on” can mean anything from not being pounded off Ale’s hips to staving off your orgasm for as long as you can.

Failure to do either is when you see Alejandro at his most wicked. When he’s all teeth, a shark’s grin, his eyes dark and his voice low as he tells you that he needs to “Train your endurance. How else are you going to take me again, hm?”

Needless to say, you’ll be lucky to be able to get out of bed the next day.

Rodolfo

His heart beats only for you. And as a result, he treats you like royalty.

As he should.

You want it ? You got it. 

In abundance.

You have the best of everything and Rudy loves nothing more than seeing your face light up when you receive one of his many gifts.

That, and having you sat on his lap, raking your fingers through his hair as he tells you about his day.

He omits the more gruesome details, fearing he’ll taint you with the blood on his hands if he doesn’t.

Speaking of lap-sitting, it’s your one-way ticket to an eventful afternoon with Rudy.

Cockwarming is his go-to, your legs wrapped about his waist as he fills out reams of paperwork, pressing kisses to your shoulder and telling you “What a good girl you’re being, mi amor,”

Be prepared for a tidal wave of praise for doing the bare minimum.

It doesn’t matter if Rudy’s topping or bottoming, he’s going to let you know how you’re making him feel, how nobody will ever ensnare him like you do.

“I love you,” he rasps, eyes half-lidded and skin glistening with sweat as you take him.

“I love you, I love you so much–” He growls, back arching into you as you catch a sensitive area. His chest is heaving and his eyes are dark.

“I’ll never let anyone else have you.”

Graves

This guy was made to have a controversially young girlfriend.

Calls you “Babydoll”, “Babygirl”, “Little Lady”, etc.

He unironically refers to himself as “Daddy”.

E.g. “You were eyein’n up that necklace for a while, Darlin’…” His hand slips to the crotch of his jeans, rocking his bulge into his palm.

“Maybe if you ask Daddy real nicely, he’ll get it for you.”

He’s actually very caring. He’d buy you the world if it meant seeing you smile.

He never expects anything from you in return.

He just can’t pass up the opportunity to have you in his arms, to touch you.

Graves can tend to go overboard with the gifts, though.

Calls you “young thing” when he’s feeling humourous.

On the flip-side, he can (and will) use your age gap against you. Like Price, but more Southern.

He’ll be very condescending when he’s mad, tending to use terms that undermine how intelligent and capable you really are.

“If you’d just listened to me and gotten it through your tiny head that I’m doing what’s best for you, we wouldn’t be in this situation!”

On the flip-flip-side, he uses your age gap as a jumping-off point into…dubious activities.

#1 dumbification kink enjoyer.

He’s a switch with top lean, what can I say.

“Can’t do anything without me, can you, Sweetheart.” It’s not a question. His eyes are too serious, too stern, for it to be. He’s  pounding into you, hands either side of your head, caging you beneath him.

Between his panting, he presses a wet, uncoordinated kiss to your lips.

“I’ll make sure you can’t even think without me by the time I’m done with you.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost

AO3 Wattpad

[icysab]

more niki boyfie hcs — falling for you edition!

requested here!

wc: <350 i think

a/n: this is a little different than my standard boyfie hcs but i wanted to try something new, so let me know your opinion in comments, reblogs, asks, etc. of this format !!

a/n no. 2: idc what anyone says riki is a DORKY, RIZZLESS LOSER SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD BOY AND I WILL WRITE HIM AS SUCH.

- bro was CAPTIVATED by your smile

- that was literally the first thing he noticed about you— how your smile lit up the room he was in

- you were one of jungwon’s friends and so he introduced you to all the members

- and when i tell you niki’s heart STOPPED when he saw you

- but niki is loyal to his bros!! so he swallowed the lump in his throat so jungwon didn’t kill him

- (jungwon, in fact, introduced you to the members because you mentioned that niki was cute. he would not have cared one bit.)

- only realizes he’s staring after sunoo nudges him with his elbow

- literally stuttering trying to introduce himself

- “i, uh, my name is- uh- riki”

- (failed) attempts at acting aloof fly out the window when you repeat his name back and smile

- the second you leave jake and sunghoon RELENTLESSLY tease the poor guy

- and he gets so defensive too, like he wasn’t acting like a lost puppy dog

- before jakehoon can strip niki of too much of his pride though, won tells them to knock it off

- after scolding the two goofballs (scary leader) won decides to tell niki

- “you know, i don’t care if you go for her”

- poor riki is not following

- “??”

- “she thinks you’re cute too, and besides, you’d make a good match”

- he malfunctions

- “no nono why would you think that!! HAHA- wait. she thinks i’m cute??”

- he’s all red and blushy

- at this point jakehoon are CACKLING at poor riki

- won explains that you thought riki was cute too and that’s why he introduced you two, but he didn’t expect him to be such a nervous wreck around you

- riki is shocked 😮

- after MUCH coaxing from the members, won finally gets riki to text your number

- riki’s leg won’t stop bouncing with nerves as he types out a message

- “hey, this is riki from earlier. i just wanted to say that your shirt was cool”

- all the members facepalm at his attempts at playing it cool

- you respond almost instantly, to riki’s surprise

- “hi riki!! thank you, + i thought your outfit was cool too :D”

- before he can breathe a sigh of relief that your text was super nice and simple, he sees the typing bubble pop up again

- “did you ask won for my number? hah you must have wanted an excuse to talk to me again ”

- he freezes again

- HOW DID YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH HIM??

- he’s about to deny, deny, deny, but won stops him

- “dude, just tell her the truth. did you already forget that she thinks you’re cute too?”

- riki’s brows furrow in thought at that, but before he can even begin to construe a cool, smooth response, jake rips the phone out of his hands

- RIKI SCREAMS SO LOUD THE ENTIRE DORM REVERBERATES while jake books it to the bathroom to lock himself in

- after a minute, he walks out with riki’s phone and the most devilish smirk on his lips

- before jake can do anything else, riki snatches the phone back and apprehensively starts to read the damage jake had done

- “lol you caught me. if you want, we could get to know each other better over some ice cream tmr? it’ll be my treat”

- “woah, that was smoother than i expected. ill see you tmr riki :)”

- riki is dumbfounded. did jake actually just score him a date with YOU?? there’s no way this worked

- “thank me later,” jake teases

- he is so in shock that he doesn’t even have the capacity to kill jake. tomorrow, a date (???) with you? he can die a happy man.

- to be continued…. ?

[traegorn]

Girl you can rant and rave all day but we all know for a fact you can't vote your way out of this mess so your "genuinely, what else can we do?" sounds like pure cucked defeatism. This downward spiral of American fascism has proven stable, so no, voting isn't going to stop it. The democrats will never be pushed left - as proven by blatant history. I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Voting isn't going to solve any of this, and no voting isn't going to "clear the way" or make it easier to resist. Democrats have proven over and over and over again they will use the full force of violence to stop anything that truly threatens them and the ONLY WAY to stop American fascism is to threaten them, to threaten the very foundations of the system itself.

You exert all this effort, have all this pained frustration, over the weakest political action you can take. You are not challenging fascism or tyranny or helping any of the people harmed under bipartisan violence. You ignore these people and focus on "harm reduction" for the few who do benefit from the pitiful social safety nets democrats eke out only to be undermined in the next four or eight years as republicans INEVITABLY take back power. Such is the case of a two party system, as history proves. You're staving off the inevitable by exerting all this energy into electoralism, and the people you "save" by electing democrats are inevitably hurt anyways when republicans INEVITABLY take back power - because that's what the system guarantees.

You exist in a cycle of abuse with the American government, a punishment-reward system under the 2 parties that keeps you afraid of punishment and too desperate for reward that you ignore how the hand that feeds you is also putting kids in cages and blowing up babies overseas. You, and everyone who thinks like you, will never be the ones to save anybody.

Idk I was pissed and now got all sad again after writing this. Just so you know my being sad at the state of your ideology isn't a representation of my passivity that people like you like to construe - I am painfully politically active. But it's just...sick. You're stuck in an abusive cult and now I just feel bad for you

I'm usually a lot nicer when I reply to folks, but you brought a certain energy that deserves a different response. I want to be clear to any passersby who I'd normally be polite to in this kind of conversation: This energy is reserved only for chucklefucks who bring this kind of shit to me. Please do not take this as a reflection as to how I'd treat people willing to engage honestly and civilly with me. This anon came to me unprovoked, so they're getting a rather unique response.

So here we go.

Oi, shit head. This was the stupidest thing I've read all day.

Democrats 100% have moved left in the last 40 years. Are we still recovering from when they got dragged right by Reagan in the 80s? Yes. But we've made headway getting things back on track. You claim a lot of stuff here, but don't cite a single example. Likely because you just repeat what someone else told you on TikTok that one time. You couldn't find your way through actual theory if it smacked you in the face with its dick. But you don't want me to actually justify it.

Because your own words told me you'd dismiss any evidence I provided:

I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Bitch, this shit is a sliding scale. Trump authorized more drone strikes than Obama did in eight years. Are they bad? Yes. But if you're telling me you want more murders, Trump's your guy. Guess what, living in America means dealing with the fact that you've been complicit in genocide this whole time. Look at the land you stand on -- it is soaked in blood. Look at the smart phone you're reading this on, it literally came out of a genocide.

You bathe in blood every day, fucking figure it out.

We do our best to minimize harm. And if you'd ACTUALLY read or watched anything I've said, your two half dead braincells would have noticed the part where I constantly say "voting is not the end of your activism." It's the fucking start.

Either Harris or Trump will be the next President. Trump will be worse. If you aren't doing everything you can to stop him, you're not a leftist, you're a grandstanding piece of shit who doesn't care about anything other than the smell of your own farts.

You want to fuck up the two parties? Great. Put in the fucking work -- because the Presidential election ain't it, shithead. Build a real movement from the ground up. Build community, build a party system, run local candidates. When's the last time your ass went to a city council meeting or a school board meeting? Do you even know when they're held where you live?

But let's face it, you couldn't coalition build if you tried because you're so far up your own ass you kiss your small intestine goodnight.

Daddy Revolution ain't coming, shithead. There's work to do, so get your head out of your ass and do it.

You want Trump to win? Netanyahu would kiss you on the lips for it. Fuck off.

[avelera]

I do have one thing and one thing only to say about the Neil Gaiman revelations.

Others more articulate than I have gone into detail on the horror of it. It should go without saying that fans across every fandom linked to him are horrified and each dealing with the revelations in their own way. My thoughts below may seem, I don't know, pithy in response but I'm not trying to address the enormity of what happened or offer any sort of solution, or comfort, or anything but my own confusion on a particular, perhaps even silly point. This is just my own moment to grapple with an aspect of the revelation that just won't get out of my head.

Here's a thing I don't get. It's a stupid thing, even ridiculous, but it haunts me:

Why remake the comic issue "Calliope" in the Sandman show? If you're N.G. and you know what you've done?? How could you be so fucking stupid? Or is it pure hubris? Why in the world would you update it so Madoc bore more similarities to current N.G., with such similar crimes of hypocrisy, using progressiveness as a mask over such crimes of sexual abuse?? Why wouldn't you try to distract or at least not bring such direct parallel attention to what you've done in your own story??

Writing Calliope in the first place as a younger man is one thing. The Sandman comic is edgy and dark and a story like that fits the 90s era grimdark tone. And many accounts seem to point to him not having committed any of those crimes back when he wrote Calliope. His ability to commit and get away with such abuse, perhaps even his interest in doing so I don't fucking know, came later, once he had money and power and influence. Sure, take that as you will, I don't claim to know, but most of the accounts seem to be from after he was 40 and he wrote Calliope long before that.

But the Calliope update in the Sandman show so specifically seems to draw parallels between Madoc and Gaiman. Like, there's a whole bit about how Madoc wants any shows or movies based in his work to have at least half women and people of color, Madoc is posing himself as this progressive feminist and the disgusting hypocrisy of it of course is that he has a woman he's abusing locked up in the attic.

I remember watching that scene, while watching this remake of Sandman that is, of course, more than half women and people of color. One of the biggest dudebro complaints against the Sandman show was that Lucienne got genderswapped and Death was played by a black woman. Like, you're watching the show where the acclaimed author's works are getting a progressive facelift, in the episode, with a fictional author, who is demanding the progressive facelift for film versions of his work, while he's being a vile predatory hypocrite with a woman locked in the attick.

I remember watching that scene and thinking, astounded and rather anxious for him, "My god, Neil must have absolute ironclad certainty that he has never done anything that can be construed as sexually inappropriate if he's making this update to the characters with parallels that could so clearly apply to him as well! He must be totally wholesome, faithful to his wife, and careful around fans. He must be 100% dead certain that he is above reproach because even a whisper, a false accusation of impropriety, one unhappy fan at an event, could make this episode look like the rankest hypocrisy. Why would you ever dare remake Calliope, and remake it so specifically to model after Neil, if you're Neil, unless you're 1000% certain Madoc's update doesn't apply to you at all?"

Like, even the most squeaky clean person in the world has gotta hesitate a bit when drawing a potential parallel between themselves as the author of the work and a villain in the work, and saying "This is me if I was a bad person." RIGHT? Like you've gotta have a moment's hesitation, even if you know none of it is true, before you dare risk drawing such parallels and literally updating the work into the script to make it more like you. Even if you know you've never done anything wrong in your life as an author, when you create Madoc, who is an author, who voices similar views to things you've said, you've gotta have a moment's hesitation just in case people misconstrue that the other villainous stuff applies to you too, right?

I think there's a part of me that like... understands obviously that there's evil in the world but sometimes what makes me additionally angry is when evil is stupid? Like when really obvious fraud is committed, or when the coverup is just really blatantly false. And this kind of falls into that category of like, what were you thinking drawing attention to your own potential abuse of power with fans, how your own progressive ideals could be rank hypocrisy over a mask of horror, that you could be saying all these feminist things while keeping a woman locked up and assaulted in your attic, almost literally, why would you even dare put that-- I mean, I daresay, confession out into the world and make the parallels so obvious, to actually update the parallels to be more like you now! Why would you dare do that?!

I can only imagine two answers:

It wasn't Neil. It was the other show creators who came up with the idea, because they truly thought Neil was above reproach (or maybe they did know some element of the truth and it WAS a warning but that feels less likely with him as executive producer that he'd let that in) and he couldn't cut it from the story without raising questions about why he wanted this rather salient update to the character removed without raising questions, especially if Orpheus & Calliope plot was going to a big thing later in the story.

It was Neil's choice to put that update in and it is some sort of twisted confession or he didn't see the parallels or he truly didn't think anyone would spot it or know?? But again WHY make Madoc progressive in such a specifically similar way to Neil?! Madoc didn't need to be progressive! He didn't need to say his films should be adapted to be more diverse the same way Neil did, in a show that was adapted to be more diverse! You didn't need to make the parallels to Neil so goddamn glaring, you could just adapt it directly to the comic and avoid the possible parallel! Why risk it??

It's a stupid thing to get stuck on, I know. But it baffles me, the sheer... hubris of it? The foolishness? I can't control what happened, I can't help the victims, and many fans are grappling with many questions about this but still, holy shit...

Why update Calliope with a Madoc that is so much like Neil, knowing as Neil did how deep the parallels actually went? Why, in the fucking world, would you ever fucking do that??

[evilmedian]

perennial reminder about the word "plural"

here's the original blog post, from the 90s, that introduces 'plural' as a purposefully non-medical alternative to 'multiple'

[image text: "This is one reason our clan encourages use of the word "plural" rather than "multiple". "Multiple", even standing by itself, brings to mind MPD/DID, "multiple personality disorder", "dissociative identity disorder", which are specific diagnoses created by the medical/therapeutic community. "Plural" is a much more neutral word, more commonly heard in the context of grammar than psychiatry. (The other reason, of course, is that plural can be construed to have a broader meaning, applying to anyone(s) anywhere on the continuum who experience themselves as plural in some way. )"]

the concept of plurality was always deliberately inclusive. it has been for more than 20 years. there is no diagnosis that makes you plural or not plural. having a trauma history or specific symptoms cannot make you plural or not plural. there is no "real plurals" vs "fake plurals". it is an opt-in community and identity. plurality is not mutually exclusive with psychiatric diagnoses, but as a label, it is intentionally disconnected from medical terminology.

[werewolfetone]

Can I be controversial for a second. I think it's rlly interesting that a complaint that a lot of people on here have about AI art is that the artist, usually construed as a single person or in rare cases a few people who do the entire process of "making art," is viewed as having not "made" the art as in done all the labour to produce the work, when going into irl art spaces often reveals that this is the case far more often than people seem to believe it to be. I can only speak with authority on photography because that's the community I'm involved in but I can't tell you how many shows I've gone to which credit one name but, when you speak to the photographer, they either had someone else develop and print the film/edit the files/whatever, and while this is definitely not the rule (not even in film) it happens enough that it's significant because the person who does those things makes kind of big decisions about the way a photograph... is, for lack of a better word. changing things like exposure, how much dust on the lens/scanner to edit out, how much to doctor the photograph to show a more idealised idea of the subject (editing out wrinkles etc), these are big artistic decisions that someone else other than "the artist" is making. which brings us to AI and the idea of "not making" something yourself. a photographer exposes a piece of film to light for a fraction of a second and then other people develop, edit, and print their photograph, and through this engrained idea of art as unilaterally solitary rather than a conversation between everyone involved that's the work of the photographer alone. somebody on chatGPT comes up with an idea and gets a machine to execute it and they didn't "make" it. idk if I'm trying to make a point other than it's weird how labour is viewed in the arts + under my communist regime people who don't credit richard avedon's darkroom staff in exhibits of his work will be executed by firing squad

[patchwork-crow-writes]

Okay, so was ANYONE gonna tell me that one of the songs Kris can play on the Piano in Noelle's house is the freaking Acid Tunnel of Love theme?

Like... HELLO?!?!?! KRIS?!?! Is there something you're not telling us mayhaps....?

Okay, so like - I know the files call it the lancer_waltz, and I know it could also be construed as a rendition of the Thrash Machine theme... but just... listen to it. The time signature, the little flourishes... it's clearly the Acid Tunnel theme they're playing.

And boy howdy are they PLAYING it. Listen to the way the music SWELLS in the bridge to the 2nd half of the performance. Listen to the little slip-ups. Listen to the way the melody gets lighter and uses the higher octaves more as it progresses. Like, they're definitely not half-assing this... there's some real feeling there, you know?

...I think that little boat ride with Ralsei in chapter 2 might have left more of an impression on them than they'd care to admit.

[4aeriis]

hey can you do scenario with Nevullette where he asks his s/o what their opinion on dragons are? And she’s like “They’re so majestic and dangerous. I have to respect them instead of trying to hunt them like most people do. Also it’d be so cool to ride a dragon. I mean, what woman doesn’t?”

SOARING

NEUVILLETTE X FEM! READER — sfw, established relationship, neuvi is just a soft dragon let’s be honest

the clouds response — I’m making an EXCEPTION for this purely because I love neuvi, but remember I am a wlw account majorly! I am however happy to write this so it doesn’t actually bother me

word count — 615

Your husband was often a reclusive man, but even more so throughout the summer time in Fontaine. Well, the almost summer time. Recently it had been more rain than sun, and more dreariness than usual. Particularly today, the rain just wouldn’t let up.

It pummeled against the ground and filled tiny holes with water, splashed off the many lakes and rivers and oceans that Fontaine naturally presented as the Hydro Nation. It put a damper on everyone’s mood, especially since it had been after a particularly dreary case for the Nation.

“Darling?” Your voice floated through his empty study, a frown construed on your face. Just where had Monsieur Neuvillette gone now?

As mentioned, he had a knack for disappearing.

By late evening you’d been searching for almost an hour, coming short of nothing until you finally laid eyes on him. A soft, pristine hand�� gloveless, rested against the cold of an extravagantly decorated window in your home. His eyes were cast outside at the rain hitting the pavement outside — the civilians ducking as they rushed into their homes.

“There you are.” You softened and approached, resting a hand on his back and curving around him. You squinted up, trying to gauge his emotions, before a sigh fell from soft lips. “Bad day?”

“Bad week.” He glanced your way a moment, holding no emotion yet also so much in his eyes. Then, strong arms wrapped around your waist, shifting you to be infront of him as his chin gently lay ontop of your head. “…it’s dreadful out.”

“It is.” You tutted, head shaking. “The rain just won’t let up.”

Your hand snaked to hold his stronger ones, and he hummed. “Do you hate it?”

“…suppose not.”

“No?”

You shook your head again. “How can I hate the weather? Sounds silly,” You shrugged. “Though it does dampen the mood of the city.”

“Hm, yes.” Neuvillette hums, tracing over your stomach slowly. His voice says nothing, but the reflection of his calculating eyes through the window say everything. “…have you heard the tale of the dragon that supposedly causes the rain, droplet?”

You shake your head. “I’m not certain I have.”

Your husband debates his answer a mere moment, before shrugging. “It’s said that when he cries, so does the sky. When he feels…anguish, so must the world.”

“…I see.” You sigh, nodding and thinking it over in your head before ultimately sighing. “Poor dragon.”

“Oh?”

Neuvillette allows himself to be surprised by your answer as he looks down at you. You peek up and nod. “How so?”

“Well, it’s just sad— isn’t it? That a dragon is feeling so much pain, the world must feel it too. Whatever happened to him must be very grave,” You looked back outside and nodded. “Dragons are- were? I don’t know. They’re lovely creatures.”

“…you believe that?”

“Of course I do.” Your brows squint. “They’re beautiful. Beautiful and…incredible creatures, dangerous as they are. To know that one is hurting right now, why— that just…I don’t know. I feel like they deserve respect, not pain. Am I making sense?”

Neuvillette watches you closely, not exactly answering your question. His eyes then shift back outside. “…you have a kind soul.”

You soften immensely, looking back up at him as the rain seems to slow. “Yeah?”

“…yeah.” He nods and leans, lips brushing your forehead. The sensation leaves behind a small tingle. “It seems the dragon thinks so too.”

You pause and look back out the window- eyes slightly widening as a smile forms. “Incredible. I’d love to meet him now.”

Neuvillette merely chuckles. “And what would you do, should you meet it?”

“Ride it. What woman wouldn’t want to?”

“Oh dear.”

[missbluez]

Flour, Sugar and Something more Pt 3/5

Firefighter!König x Fem!Plus size reader

AO3

Part 1 Part 2

König watched as his colleagues efficiently extinguished the fire. It didn’t look like either of your apartments was affected, but he couldn’t really gauge the extent of the damage without going inside.

Despite the lingering anxiety that his home might have ended in flames, he feels perfectly content with you between his arms. The warmth of your soft body in his embrace quells his bubbling anxiety until it’s nothing but a quiet buzzing in the back of his mind. 

He’s lost in thought, absent-mindedly running a hand up and down your arms, when Soap approaches you.

“Yer apartments are relatively okay, bit of water in ‘em, though.” Soap –a Scot, you guess based on his accent– explains to the rest of the tenants before stepping closer to you.

“König, yours was a bit more damaged. The captain said you should probably stay out of it until the fire marshal makes sure it's safe, aye? “ he says, squeezing König’s shoulder reassuringly. He sends him a look you can’t quite decipher, but it makes König push him away with a huff after he lets go of you.

“My apartment is okay. You can grab your stuff and stay with me… if you want to, that is,” you say once Soap walks back towards the firetruck. A light blush settles on both your faces as König nods slowly.

“ Thank you, schatz. That’d be great.”

Soon after the crowd fizzled out and the authorities left, König and you make your way back upstairs. The entire situation feels a bit surreal, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that König is about to spend the whole day with you at your apartment. It isn’t something new, but your days together have never spilt into the night. This time, he’s sleeping at yours. The circumstances aren’t the best, but you can’t help but feel giddy. 

When you walk into your apartment, you can see it was barely disturbed, even though the smell of smoke still lingers within the walls. König doesn’t have the same luck. He opened the kitchen window and didn’t close it in his haste to check on you, which means his kitchen and living room are completely flooded.

König mops up as much water as he can from the soaked floors. His original plans are off the table by now, but thankfully, he had placed the bakery box in the fridge, so it wasn’t affected by the smoke or the water. He grabbed it and a few other things and made his way to your apartment. He doesn’t even have to knock. You left the door wide open to get the lingering smell of smoke out. He doesn’t want to startle you, so he calls out your name as he walks in.,

“How’s your place?” you ask as soon as you see him.

“Kind of flooded, can’t say much else until a further inspection is made,” he shrugs, placing the box on the kitchen counter. “ I bought this to go along with the meal I was making for our lunch, but that’s ruined now,” he says with what you can swear is a pout, making him look adorable, which seems impossible for someone like him. But he just keeps on surprising you. The way your heart flutters when he’s around has started to feel comforting in a way.

“Oooh, that sucks. We can definitely make something quick here.” You say with an understanding smile that after the adrenaline left your body, neither of you has much energy to dedicate to a complicated meal. Looking around in your pantry and fridge, you decide to make one of your favourite comfort meals. “What about pasta, are you okay with that?” You turn to look at him, a package of noodles in your hands. For a second, he just watches you with a look you can’t quite construe, it’s gone as soon as he realises your attention is back on him, but an aggressive blush sets on his face. “Y-yeah, that sounds great.” He’s probably just tired and dissociating, you think. And he got embarrassed when you noticed. 

You just smile at him, sparing him any more embarrassment. But little did you know that the look on his face meant far more than that.

He watches as you start cooking, putting the pot of water on the stove, easily moving around the kitchen as you get the rest of the ingredients. He moves closer to you.

“What can I help with?”  he asks nervously, fidgeting with his fingers.

“You can chop the onions”, You say, handing him a chopping board with a smile.

He immediately gets to it, and you easily move around as you work in tandem. The domesticity of it all isn’t lost on either of you, but you don’t mention anything. Your hearts nervously dancing to the same beat. You both know that this is a one-time thing, but you could definitely get used to being in each other’s space like this. Usually, you each cook separately and then meet up with the other for your usual rendezvous, but it felt nice doing it like this, together. If you allowed your imagination to run free, you could picture both of you cooking dinner after a long work day or baking together during a lazy Sunday.  Just the thought of that makes your heart beat faster.

What you don’t realise is that König is in a similar predicament, he can’t stop thinking about this being how his days could be, he can’t stop thinking about you being the one he comes back home to, the one who takes care of him after a particularly grueling day at the station, the one that comforts him when a rescue mission doesn´t go well and they end up losing someone.

 His thoughts take a dark turn when he thinks of his intended plan of confessing to you. His anxiety betrays him, making him imagine you outright rejecting him. He knows you’d never be cruel or uncouth, but for some reason, thinking about you gently letting him down hurts him more than the thought of you yelling at him.

After eating in a comfortable silence, you take the bakery box and walk to the living room. You realise that it’s after seven p.m., with all that happened today, you have entirely lost track of time.

“Do you have to work tomorrow?” you ask König as you sit on the couch.

“Nope, after pulling a double, I have two days off,” he explains as he takes a muffin and sits beside you. Your thighs touching slightly, neither of you moving away.

“Oh, that’s great,” you say as you reach forward, grabbing one of your favourites from the box before leaning back. “These are really good, they’re my favourites!” you say excitedly as you look at him,

“I know”, he says with a knowing smile “, I wanted to make up for cancelling on you so often this past week”, he says apologetically.

“It’s okay. You had to work, and I totally understand.” You dismiss with a shake of your head.

“Still, I really enjoy our time together. And I felt terrible whenever I had to cancel, schatz,” he reiterates, looking earnest.

You know that he likes spending time with you; he wouldn’t do it so often if he didn’t, but sometimes anxiety gets the best of you and when you spend time apart from the people you care about it starts making you think that they don’t care about you like you do about them. Logically, you know that isn’t true, but anxiety doesn’t really care about logic. For a moment, you just look at him, your eyes on his beautiful blue ones. Ever since you met him, you feel like you can just get lost in them.

The shrill ringing of your phone is what distracts you from him, you glance at it and when you recognise the caller ID you immediately reach for it, “Oh shit” you mumble. With the fire and the subsequent panic, you had completely forgotten that you were supposed to join a meeting after lunch. You excuse yourself to the kitchen to take the call.

When you're out of sight, König takes a deep breath. He’s had to stop himself from blurting out his feelings unprompted quite a few times. Ever since he realised what he feels about you, he can’t stop thinking about telling you. He’s probably not going to be able to keep it in for long.

The call with your supervisor takes longer than expected, and it leaves you quite frustrated at his inability to identify an immediate emergency. 

When you go back to the living room, you almost choke on your own saliva at the sight in front of you. It seems that in the time it has taken you to sort out the situation with your supervisor König had taken it as a chance to get more comfortable. He has changed from his usual dark clothes into plaid pyjama bottoms and a basic white shirt. It's nothing fancy, but you can’t help but ogle him. He hasn’t noticed you yet, he’s just scrolling through the movie options on the TV, but every move of his has you entranced, the way his biceps stretch his shirt, and his pants sit precariously on his hips have you salivating. You aren’t unaffected by his looks, but there’s something so pleasurable in seeing him like this. It feels intimate.

You clear your throat as you walk back towards the couch, and when he hears you, he cranes his neck back to look at you. He raises a brow, looking at you. “What was that?” he asks.

“My supervisor called to ask why I bailed on a meeting I had earlier,they got stuck with a client who doesn’t speak english without the translator” You throw yourself on the couch with a groan.

“Well, you have a legitimate excuse as to why you didn’t show up”

“Yeah, I’ll have to put out the figurative fires on Thursday when I go to the office.” Your form slumps, you're definitely not looking forward to that. Instintiveñy, you lean towards König, your head lying on his firm shoulder.

“So have you chosen a movie?” you ask him, leaning your head towards him. He looks down at you, his mouth opens to answer, but he doesn’t say anything; the way he’s looking at you makes your breath hitch. Neither of you expecting your faces to be so close to each other. The sudden tension in the room makes you feel slightly dizzy. You lick your lips, a nervous habit of yours. König’s eyes follow every movement of your tongue; it makes your body feel like it's on fire, and you take a deep breath. For a few seconds, neither of you moves, your eyes locked in each other, your rapid breaths mingling because of the proximity between you. He slowly starts leaning closer to you. Your heartbeat quickens as you realise what’s going to happen, and your eyelids flutter as you close your eyes. Just as your lips slightly graze his, an aggressive knock pulls you away from each other.

Sorry for the late upload, I'm looking for a new job and depression has been kicking my ass lol. I just wanted to thank everyone for yhe support, the likes and especially the comments keep me going and ecourage me to write more,

I will try to finish this series this week

If you have a request in mind don't hesitate to ask or message me!

[hphlseungyeonlee]

hogwarts legacy pride week: die mad about it

greetings, this is quick lee. I've seen that my pals and comrades have been brigaded by sad, pathetic people who refuse to get off their high horses. so, let me clear a few things up and give some reminders.

(1) Liking a piece of media should NOT be construed as support of the author.

Because it's simply not the same thing. I don't know how to break this down any further. It's called having nuance and critical literacy skills. This is not even in defense of the "problematic fave". JKR is no one's fave. but there are some good things you can come away from her literature with. and if you're too narrow-minded to admit that, then… have fun censoring and killing literature lol.

(2) Chasing queer people out of the HP/HL fandom is quite literally what JKR wants.

You're doing her dirty work for her. Please read this post by another tumblr user for more. Without any queer people in the HP fandom who are willing to interrogate the text and sit with the uncomfortableness of the literature, JKR will be allowed to continue her reign of terror. It is only by starting the difficult conversations and acknowledging that JKR is, in fact, an asshat, that we can create a fandom that hates the hell out of her and reclaims the world for our own use. Some of us are unwilling to see the world die a horrid death because its creator is awful.

This video by hbomberguy delves into adapting H.P. Lovecraft for the 21st century. I feel that a lot of this video can be applied to Harry Potter and JKR. I implore you to give it a watch and let me know what you come away with.

You know who you should be railing against? The literal bigots in this fandom. There's a lot of them; I've seen them. Instead of kicking the queer fans out, how about you chase the anti-trans and anti-queer people? They aren't quiet about it.

(3) caring about JKR is a rather Western perspective.

Yes, JKR is doing real harm with her legislation. Your average US/UK queer fan is aware of this. Guess what? You can hold more than one thing in your head at the same time! Wild, I know. See point 1.

But, a lot of countries outside the US or the UK don't give a shit who she is or know much about her bigotry because it doesn't affect them or they don't speak English or they don't know. It reeks of r/USdefaultism energy to assume everyone knows what you know and everyone should do what you do. News flash, anyone outside of the US/UK can't do shit about what JKR's doing. Why the fuck are you stopping them from FREELY (read: without profiting JKR) interacting with the intellectual property (IP)? Do you realize what a waste of time this is? If you're recycling tired talking points and you don't live in the US/UK… dude, go find better use of your time.

(4) Creating fanwork does not equal "promoting" the game.

Many people read fanfic or look at fanart/edits instead of interacting with the canon work. There is an assumption that seeking fanwork means they will seek out the original media as well. This is not the case, a lot of the time, and no one considers fanwork promotion of the original text. Fanwork is inherently derivative, and both the creator and consumer is aware of that.

My friends and I frequently shit-talk the game. But the blandness of the plot and the characters is what makes a great canvas to impart our own perspectives, ideas, goals. The rules of the world are malleable in the best way. Same with the original Harry Potter world as well. It's a blank canvas, and that means it has great potential to be molded into whatever anyone wants. We have the right to take what we want to keep from JKR's IP. Again, see the hbomberguy video for more on this point.

Not to mention, Harry Potter has been a mainstay in Western media (and even non-Western media) for decades. I promise you that our fanwork is not convincing anyone to go out and buy the game.

(5) Yes, the game was financially backed by JKR and she receives royalties from it. No one is denying this fact.

However, there are literally thousands of other people involved in this game that have explicitly stood against JKR's bigotry, and they deserve to have their work celebrated too. Not to mention, a lot of people pirated this game, or bought it secondhand, or waited for the sale, or donated an equal amount to a queer nonprofit. Before you disparage a queer fan for engaging in the world of HP, please ask yourself… what have you done as far as real activism or praxis?

Most fans don't buy anything HP other than this game. In fact, I have said in the past and will continue to say: we don't need to be buying that shit any more. Merch? Books? Other random knickknacks and memorabilia? Don't need it, useless consumerism anyway. But interacting with the IP for free is a whole different thing. You just know it makes JKR mad that a bunch of queers are twisting her work into something better. Enjoy it, lads.

End of the day, you can be a fan of HP IP without putting a single cent into JKR's pocket, or little cents as possible. If at least you are aware of this fact, then move on. There's bigger fish to fry.

(6) Listen, I don't agree with the Bible on a lot, but I like a few of the lines on hypocrisy.

Matthew 7:3–5, NIV:

“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye."

John 8:4–9, NIV:

…and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him. But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground. At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there.

I am sure you are actively supporting a shitty person by using social media, or listening to music, or participating in organized religion. Trying to play the Morality Olympics with some hobbyists who want to queer up HP IP as much as possible… is a waste of goddamn time. No one gives a shit that you attacked some queer people. Fat lot of good you've done. Get off your high horse before you are flung off.

Quit being an armchair activist. Go outside and interact with some real life people. Like it or not, Harry Potter is a part of the international lexicon. It's baked into our society. Do you want the fandom to be an accepting community, or do you want to actively usher in yet another un-safe space?

I understand that in the world it is a difficult time right now. A lot of people feel powerless in the face of such outright fascism rearing its head. To the queer people out there, let me remind you—attacking your fellow queers is not the right move. This is what the oppressors want, for us to fight each other instead of collaborating and unifying. You should be directing your energy to assisting your local community, starting conversations about trans rights, standing up for your local trans members, and participating in praxis. If you feel so strongly about this topic, good! I'm glad you feel that way. Go donate your time or resources to a nonprofit—they need your support. Go to protest or riot. Start a coalition. Why tear down a thriving community when you can build up your own?

There is no shame in stepping away from HP because JKR's real life words are too vile for you to consider. But there's also no shame in sticking around in an act of reclamation or spite.

To the queer HL community; thanks for being you. Thank you for having the tough conversations. Thank you for making space. Thank you for being nuanced. Keep up the good work. You're one cool cat.

I'll leave you with some links to nonprofits and organizations that make an actual difference.

Stonewall (public policy campaigns, UK)

Parents and Friends of Lesbians and Gays (PFLAG) (LGBTQ advocacy, USA)

The Trevor Project (youth suicide prevention, USA)

Queerwell (queer mental health and wellness, UK)

PFLAG KOREA

Trans Liberation Front (트랜스해방전선)

Solidarity for LGBT Human Rights of Korea (행동하는성소수자인권연대)

Beyond the Rainbow Foundation (BRF: 비온뒤무지개재단)

KQTx (Korean Queer & Trans National Network) (Korean American queer community)

If you live in the North Carolina area, here are some local links.

One Voice Chorus

Time Out Youth

PFLAG CHARLOTTE

Equality North Carolina Foundation

The Plus Collective

RAIN

[brayneworms]

and teary faces know the craft | lyney

kinktober day one: lingerie

word count. 1.8k

content. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, lingerie, making out, both lyney + reader getting blueballed, allusions to jealousy + insecurity, somewhat established relationship, lyney is a bratttt, gender neutral reader

♪ death kink - fontaines d.c.

notes. call that lyngerie

kinktober 2024 m.list | regular m.list

He's a tease. 

You should more than likely stop being surprised by it; like the owl is wise and the bake-danuki is curious, it's simply in his nature. The coy flutter of a lash, the point of a toned leg, the briefest catching of his amethyst eyes on yours at something that could be construed as innuendo. A flash like the white spark of a kamera bulb, and then gone again, retreating into shadow like it was never there in the first place. 

Backstage smells like pine wood and wax. The stage squeaks with each turn of Lyney's boot upon the shining floor. In around an hour, the Opera Epiclese will be seething with audience members, packed in and huddled tight for the show. For now, it is only a palimpsest; the only people in the seats for now are you and Freminet, who maintains a shy distance a couple rows in front of you, fiddling with his little robotic penguin. You think he's started to grow used to your presence—and he's pretty sharp beneath the sandy bangs, his eyes snagging on little things others might gloss right over.

You suppose Lyney and Lynette are similar, though; beneath different veneers, all of Arlecchino's children are remiss to let any small detail slip by them. 

You suppose it's a mark of the Hearth, that inclination towards neuroticism. 

"And voila!" The twins' routine finishes with a swish of Lynette's skirt and Lyney's arms raised towards the domed ceiling. "What did you think?"

Freminet raises his head. "It was great," he mutters. "As always. The bit with the water tank is new, right?"

"It's merely a spruce-up of our old bit with the box," Lyney smiles. "But yes, essentially, it's new."

Freminet hums. "Well... be careful, is all. I liked it though."

Lyney beams. It's an inevitability that his gaze turns to you then, hunched a little further back. "And you, our dear guest? Do you concur?"

You raise your chin. "I think... it's your best work yet." 

The smile Lyney offers is beatific—and genuine, you know, only because your own praise is such. As someone who lives a life half behind a mask, Lyney has become well-tuned to the frequency of other people's lies; it's why, you often think, he's so enamoured with you. Because you don't lie to him. 

"Does that mean we can take a small break?" Lynette asks, fiddling with a glove. "I'd like a chance to refresh before the real show."

"Of course, of course. I would say we've more than earned it." As Lynette makes her way offstage, probably on the hunt for a teahouse, Freminet trails after her and Lyney catches your eye. You approach up the centre aisle that runs through the middle like a parting through a scalp, up to the edge of the stage. It’s so tall that it comes up to your chin, and Lyney extends a hand down to help you haul yourself up. It smells like rosewood and wax up here, settling pleasantly in your nose. Lyney watches you, eyes wide, earnest. He has such a sweet face, if you can learn to ignore the gleam in his eye. 

“Want to help me get ready?” he asks casually. You bite back the urge to raise a brow; he looks stage-perfect already, down to the outfit. He doesn’t need help with a damn thing.

All you say is, “Sure,” and he leads you happily through the maze of corridors backstage to his dressing room. He and Lynette have separate ones here, which is nice; neither of them particularly like sharing space. Lynette keeps her things organised, and Lyney… decidedly doesn’t. He’s not a messy person by metric, but he does tend to charge forward toward the goal without realising the trail he was leaving in his wake. 

The dressing room is modestly sized, draped in swaths of red and gold cloth that make it feel heady and hot and close. A sparkling mirror edged in something that glows lurid and blue-white, throwing your features into sharp relief; and a complimentary basket of local Fontainian specialities which you pick through with interest, coming up with foreign titian fruits and crystal bottles of fizzy alcohol.

“So…” Lyney hovers at your shoulder, watching you pick through the cellophane-wrapped morsels. “You really liked the show?”

“I did.” You put back some fancy chocolate thing and turn to face him; he doesn’t back off, watching with his hands twisting like snakes before him. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. “You’re really getting into it. Lynette’s working very hard.”

It’s a prod, a careful poke—and as you guessed, Lyney pouts. If he had ears like his sister, they’d probably be pinned back against his head right now. “Only Lynette?” 

 A slow grin spreads over your face like molasses. “Oh, I see. You’re fishing for something.”

“Ahaha… I don’t fish.” He crosses his arms over his chest, chin jutting petulantly. “But when you go out of your way not to compliment me, you can’t blame me for thinking the worst. Perhaps my loveliest guest of all is losing interest?”

“Perhaps,” you say mildly, then backtrack as soon as his expression falters. “Oh, come on. You know what I think of you. Must I say it every time.”

“You could stand to say it more.”

“I bought you that lovely gift only a few days ago.”

Lyney’s eyes flash; that gleam, like the side of a cut amethyst. “Oh, I remember,” he says coyly. “I’ve grown quite familiar with it, in fact.”

The notion makes heat flare in your gut. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pauses, smiles—catlike, just a hint of sharp teeth between the plush peach of his lip. “You might say I’m familiar with it right this second, actually.”

You blink. Your mouth is as dry as the Great Red Sand. “Are you trying to tell me—”

Tease. It’s in the way Lyney’s face slips into an innocent little smile as he hooks a finger over the cuffed edge of his shorts and yanks it up enough to expose a glimpse of rouge lace. Unable to stop yourself, your hand flies out, keeping it there. You stare from it to him. 

“Are you serious?” you whisper. 

Lyney giggles. “I take this to mean you’re not losing interest, then?”

“I’ll kill you.” You sound too hoarse. “Show me.”

Lyney casts a slow, obvious look at the ornate clock hung open the wall. “Y’know, I’m just not entirely sure we have time right now, dearest.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” you mutter, fingers hooking onto his stupid bodysuit and fumbling at the buttons. You can feel his stomach flex with silent laughter at your obvious eagerness; usually you’d be trying to reign it in—the last thing a tease like him needs is more fire to stoke the fuel of his ego—but sue you. He knows what buttons to press. He has way too much power in his sleek gloved hand. 

You get a handle on the suit and yank it down with difficulty to his knees. What you’d seen a glimpse of were two thin silky garters, encircling the plush of his pale thighs, just about hidden by the hem of his shorts. One wrong move and they’d slip out from under the black leather, glaringly visible to everyone. The idea makes you feverish with anger and also so turned on you can barely see straight. 

The garters clip onto dusky pink underwear, arching gracefully over his pubic bone to encircle the triangle of his waist. When you lift a trembling hand to lift his shirt, you see a matching bralette, satiny cups tight against the soft swells of his pectorals. You can see straight through the gauzy fabric, coffee-coloured nipples pebbled under your attention. 

“I hate you,” is the first thing that come out of your mouth. The sight of him in this sparkling pink-red set makes you want to do unspeakable things. You want to ruin that fabric forever and buy him a new one. A dozen new ones in hundreds of different shades, ruin them systematically, rinse, repeat. 

He laughs again, but even his facade has its limits; he sounds slightly breathless, and you can see the faint pink blush on his cheeks starting to crawl down his chest. His collarbones gleam like cut diamonds, archons you wish you could bite them. “I take it you approve?”

Your answer is as animalistic as you feel, the rough crush of your lips over his. You’re rewarded with a muffled mmphf?! as your weight pushes the both of you back against the table, sending the cute basket of edible arrangements sprawling in a mosaic upon the floor. You muscle your way between Lyney’s legs, the press of his stiffening cock so close through only the wisp of organza, hot and insistent as a brand mark. Your hand tangles in his hair, dragging him impossibly closer as your lips duck to press against his butter-soft skin, his jaw, his neck—

“N-no marks!” he gasps, even as he presses his hips against yours with a moan. “Dearest, lovely, mon chérie, please—”

“You’re so pathetic,” you whisper into his neck, feel the buzz of your words sink into the soft skin of his throat. Lyney shudders and whines his protest. “No time, remember? Whose fault is that?”

“I just wanted—you to look at me,” he grits out, legs locked around your waist. It occurs to you that his fears of you losing interest are likely to be grounded in reality, dressed up with a lilting voice and wave of a hand. Your heart twitches. 

“I’m always looking at you, stupid.” 

Lyney’s cheeks darken, brows coming together as a sort of glaze slides over his eyes. This look you’re familiar with; it makes your breath hitch. He leans forwards, lips parted—

Three sharp knocks at the door. “We’re on in fifteen minutes, brother.”

Lyney’s whole body scrunches up, a cold disappointment stealing over his face. He looks to you desperately, but you can only shrug. “Answer your sister.”

He droops like a wilting flower. “I… I’ll be right out, Lynette.”

There’s a pause, a deeply disappointed sigh, and you hear her heels clicking neatly back down the corridor. Lyney scrubs a hand down his face and awkwardly gets down from the desk, fumbling to right his clothes. His whole body shivers as he does his bodysuit back up, having to readjust it several times in wake of his hardness. He looks down unhappily at the result.

As he goes to leave, he pauses, hand on the doorknob. “You’ll stay for the show?”

You see the question for what it is, and smile. “Wouldn’t miss it. I’ll wait for you after, too.”

Lyney tucks his head away, but you fancy you can see his giddy smile anyways. “I’ll try not to make you wait too long,” he murmurs; one hand reaches down, adjusts the cuff of his shorts just so you get the briefest flash of red-pink. And then he’s gone, out the door and down the corridor to the stage.

You lean against the table, heave a sigh. Start picking up the spilled complimentaries from the basket. You have a feeling, later tonight, that you’re both going to need the sustenance. 

[sweet-as-an-angel]

MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin

Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.

Ghost

The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.

He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.

But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.

He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”

He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.

He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.

“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.

“I’ll take care of you.”

König

“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.

“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”

You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.

“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”

König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.

“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.

“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.

“Mean.”

He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.

“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.

“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”

Soap

“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.

Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.

Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.

From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.

“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”

He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.

His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.

His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.

“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”

Valeria

Corruption kink to the MAX

Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.

And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.

Alters her brain chemistry permanently.

There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.

So why shouldn’t she own you, too?

Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.

She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.

But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.

“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”

Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.

“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”

Price

Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.

But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.

In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.

Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.

The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.

“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.

“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.

“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”

He’s angling for something. His face says it all.

He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.

His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.

“Probably looking for someone with experience.”

He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a  heavy stare.

“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.

“I’ve got plenty to spare.”

Horangi

You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.

“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”

He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.

Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.

Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.

He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.

You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.

How much he’s trying to restrain himself.

“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.

“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.

“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”

Alejandro

“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.

“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”

Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.

God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.

“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”

Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.

He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.

His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.

“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”

Rodolfo

“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.

“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”

In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.

Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.

But he sees his chance. And he takes it.

“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”

His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a  man in such a brutal line of work.

Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.

Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.

That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…

Graves

“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”

Graves sure has a way with words.

For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.

He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.

“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.

“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”

He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.

He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.

“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.

“And last.”

Gaz

Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.

See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.

He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.

He remembers what Soap taught him, though.

Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.

Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.

“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”

He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !

At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.

“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”

Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

[abyss-seer]

What will be your self-awakening journey like?

Pile 1 Pile 2

Pile 3. Pile 4

Take a deep breath, close your eyes, choose whichever one situation you feel is the most drawn to. If you feel drawn to none. Leave the messages in these read for someone else who might benefit from this energy more than you.

With this, Let's get started

Pile 1

I am channeling somebody very lonely, basically someone who is having a really hard time expressing their emotional vulnerability, because they have understood how people want to show them sympathy for showing their vulnerability just because these people wanted somebody to look down on or somebody weaker than them because these people were intimidated by your personality, which could have honestly caused you to retreat yourself from these social groups. So you could be in a state where your ego and your morality wants you to act gracefully despite the bitterness you could be feeling in your heart. So I feel like your challenge is not only learning to stand with the truth, accepting its bitterness but also being smart enough to gracefully smile through it all despite the difficulties you could be feeling. At times your self awakening journey could look like defensively trying to protect some old achievement or truth that you once believed in which was proved wrong in some way after your awakening and now as opposed to accepting the bitter reality you could be over-reacting in pain of the reality taking away what you once cherished despite knowing fully well that you will have to let it go. Its quite fighting against the truth for preserving your own truth and reality.

Learn to balance your emotions and balance your emotional and financial balance despite the reality being bitter and opposed towards your truth. You don't need to prove it to anyone. Its your truth for a reason, to process the emotions that come with it. So let the world go with whatever they are on, you do you, but learn to take the hardships of the reality present in front of you gracefully. You will be able to keep the things you love once you learn to love yourself for who you are, who you were and will be. For there is an emotion within that helps you perceive this painful reality more efficiently, its called grit, have the courage to fight whatever it takes to keep ruling your kingdom/or make your own business or run your own business with God's given grace, that's by learning to embrace these obstacles or challenges by challenging them and going for it and getting all that you want despite not feeling it yet or feeling like giving up. You can do It! pile 1, get on it! Don't oppose the truth cause you cannot, but you can still build and persevere your empire/business yet, just don't believe in defeat yet. Yes! pile 1, go for it yet again!

Here's your shufflemancy playlist

Pile 2

You know as I was shuffling the cards, I was feeling so much resistance, like there was someone who doesn't wants to see their self awakening journey, someone who wouldn't see their shufflemany playlist even, its hard, I can understand, its hard to see.... things that aren't perfect, not perfect at all. The feeling of wanting to a be a child forever, never wanting that innocence to go away, after all that ignorance is or let's just say 'was' once a bliss. Its hard embracing change in the way we think, our mind works, there are great things you might want to do, but here you are in the same perfectionist cycle, not wanting to see who you are and yourself, letting everyone do the work for you or being so habituated to it that now you feel so construed in seeing yourself through other's eyes that now you don't even know yourself as yourself anymore. Its as if you see her in that misconstrued silence like when no one tells you anything, but she is there, always.... you don't always recognize her, cause you are not habituated to expressing yourself as your true and authentic self, so you don't know her completely in that silence. Its many a times someone you don't like to perceive or may just not even know about. I am getting an autistic kid who always types the wrong letters on a keyboard.

Seems like the mirror is quite successful in fooling you, the words you listen in a music are easily labelling you, so you could be the people coming through my reads recently, only take what resonates. I am pretty sure, you guys refer me as the strict tarot aunty, cause you really don't like the message of seeing through yourself. It is as if you are standing at the precipice of the truth, and realization of seeing yourself for who you are but rather than connecting yourself to who you are, you would rather adorn the same jewels you did yesterday cause wearing those jewels in that body identifies as you, but is that you? or is it just a reflection of who you think you are and have always thought to be? not just you, but your personality depends on the clothes you adorn rather than who you are. Its as if you are so engrossed in preserving your old self, your identity , and your innocence, your roots and your childhood, through some objects rather than developing habits and routines to imbibe those values in daily life by expressing yourself without compromising your or other people's safety. These things aren't you, they don't make you, you won't change even if the costume on you changes, you don't need to rely on those to feel yourself, its just a construct in your mind. Your self awakening journey looks a lot like finding yourself without any attachments.

Chariot in reverse is coming through as advice, let go, be wild, run around like a train wreck, even if it crashes, for some of you you this is talking about proposing someone, go propose them, go see what happens, experience, you don't need to hold yourself back anymore, it might fail or you will get a new lover, just be brave and do whatever you like, be brave, make mistakes, learn from them, dance under the frolicking sun and rain. My love journalism's read pile 5 could be significant for you. Okay then take care, you aren't doomed to be. You will be alright!

Here's your shufflemancy playlist

Pile 3

The moment I entered in this state of gratefulness for whatever God has given to me, I was getting lotus sitting Laxmi, giving her blessings, I feel there's some messages from Maa Laxmi video or a messages from maa Laxmi/Lakshmi Pick a card read that you should watch for yourself out there on the internet that might benefit you for sure. Some of you could definitely posses Lakshmi Trikon yog in your birth chart, just check it and check what it means. I felt called to water scry specifically for this pile. Idk why but I am seeing some pokemon trying to reach out a wand or some sort of mallet or hammer shaped wand. Noon sun is important, someone could have been born on a cloudy day at noon time. Blood splatter could be significant, (im getting love hangover by Jennie) and you know the drill, someone was sacrificing themselves being in a relationship they don't like. I'm seeing head bust and also a caterpillar. Idk you guys maybe are destined for a big change into butterfly but if you believe that you might turn into a tortoise, it might be because the process of turning into a butterfly is a slow process and you might not believe much in this path. I'm getting so much Venusian energies, like there's so much beauty out there, but you aren't believing in your ambition. If things become stuck then play it back again, don't get frustrated over life not happening as you would like it, some things come into your awareness to test your patience, don't lose it yet. Omg I'm seeing a journey of a light being who wanted to change the world just by a swirl of a wand. And you might feel like its an impossible dream, but trust me, it will take steps, it takes time, one at a time. Your dreams are not stupid just because you are seeing it from a distance. The one thing you want won't leave anywhere, you will be the one following those dreams, or some sort of business/artifact/archaeological evidence that is calling your name on it, you will be flying pile 3, soaring high and reaching those dreams. This is so beautiful. But don't let this perfectionist tendency stop you from feeling its impossible or you need to be a certain kind of person to reach your dreams, you will get it.

I was just deliberately tried on by someone just now, like there could be people silently trying to trigger you, it isn't necessary to pay attention to them, you don't have to act dumb as if they are not there, but you don't need to confront them either. Let them be, sometimes it just annoying, some things people do is just straight up cringe, you can't even reason them. Let them be, these people just want to acknowledged despite their flaws, they are just broken people or babies who didn't get a mom/parent figure to help them through the parts of themselves they find annoying, so they people like you and me, act cold towards us to gain some attention or attraction through us. Leave them, let them be, there's nothing much you can do for an attention seeker, that actually wants their parent's love since for these people no matter what you do, our attention will never suffice them, they just need their parental love to fulfill them, they never learnt to fulfill themselves through their own efforts. That's why you don't need pay attention. They can make hundereds of stories about how you are trying to protect them or do something for them, despite the fact that everything that you did was for yourself, these people just like to project cause they never got a mother figure, so they are project that you are acting like their mother figure, when its not even the case, they might try to compare everyone's kindness towards them as their mother's kindness not understanding we are kind enough to seem close enough to their mother, that's because human kindness, and love is just like, true embodiment of kindness can make someone seem simply put like a mother figure, but don't let these people exploit you, they just want you put away with your boundaries and act like their personal mama for them, so don't let them do so, they are the same kind of people who took their mother's love for granted so now they are here to torture you become their mother for them, so they can first abuse you to submit to them like a mother becomes completely conditioned to take care of their child and then after you become conditioned to become who just cares for them, pays attention to them , they serve you with kindness to make you love them. Stay away from these kind of master manipulators and ignore their tactics, the more you ignore them, the more they try to grasp for power, try to control you, not to let you go, they are just like that. Leave such idiots, they don't deserve your love. You deserve to be a lover not a mother in relationship with your lover. You don't need to give up your independence for someone's stupid idealogies.

You know how I see a fish protruding out of the head in the picture, it just gives me that this aversion of death, or destruction of the cycle of life is what's got you vulnerable, like you are scared of loving the ones who aren't gonna make it permanently in life. So you avert giving them your love or attention because you are scared that these feelings would turn against you to destroy you with the guilt of not saving them, (heat waves song coming through) hence you try not caring for those who are gonna leave this world permanently. Idk pile 3 but if someone no matter how temporary abuses you or makes you comply to them, there's no need of continuously giving your motherly love and care just because you pity them. Leave them, such people should ponder on their actions. I feel like just like that fish someone's taking advantage of your conditioning and is trying to shape you into this submissive mother figure. You know what, fuck them! Just because you used to give your all to some people who never wanted your best, you have just become habituated to over-giving to such weird spoilt brat disgusting archetypes. This is something you need to realize. You are not even realizing how much of a mother you are becoming out of your generosity, your kindness cause one day you woke up and strived to be a better, not for them but for yourself. You know what don't ever avert the topic of death, let them meet their ends, let them see their endings, you don't have to be kind to them till the end. First be kind to yourself and realize how much they were puppeteering you, and then take back your power, your kindness and watch them beg for it while you are busy reclaiming yourself and your power. Be courageous enough to see these people go through tough times in life as they need to realize and understand who had the power of being kind to them the whole damn time!

Normalize watching people no matter how miserable they are, if they were abusive to you, watching them burn. Let life show you their place in life, on your face. Experience the remanence of the BS that you tolerated from and let that part of you die with them. Get these leeches off of you, let God show them their end. You need to see it to understand your own ending of a projected self that they gave you. I am not saying to relish endings of a person or their devastation after your relationship with them ends. Experience yourself, and who you are without them, normalize watching these people fade away. This is not you, YOU ARE NOT MEANT TO SERVE THEM OR ANYONE ELSE IN THIS WORLD EXCEPT YOURSELF

Whatever acts of services or charity you do, do it for your own happiness, stop letting all these people walk all over you. What the hell ! Now go live a life, Your advice is to be in complete control of your emotions, stop working for others, work for yourself, no matter what the devil in your head says. Whatever acts of service you do, do it yourself, work for yourself !

Here's your shufflemancy playlist

Pile 4

The I saw this picture, it reminded me of a place I connected to deeply, its called the Japanese dock, there were legends that the Japanese during their merciless rule on Andaman and Nicobar Islands, had made these docks in the Northern Andaman where apart from import and export, Japanese extended their cruelty to our ancestors by shooting them at the ports from a distance by tying them like caught preys and enjoying the sight of their death. This place was named suicide point by many locals but trust me, the water there is so clean, the sea and the stone in the shore keep those souls alive till this date, the sea breeze hits your face, sometimes with blood, sometimes with salt water. Humans don't like going there, they call it haunted by demons. But its a serene place, a place where death meets life, a consequent gift of birth, the place reminds me of the aftermath of death, sacrifices, chaos, unhappiness and bloodshed in general, rest, peace and serenity, it reminds me how every transformation no matter how big or small or chaotic has to all go towards the same place of peace and serenity. This is the beauty of nature. Idk maybe there's something, someplace that you need to connect to find yourself again in life.

I'm seeing sickness due to poison in a bottle, like liver and stomach are affected. Something about missing your mommy, visiting her graveyard, meeting her in another hometown. I'm specifically getting twins, separation, 6 of tarot major arcana is lovers, I am getting twin flames, twins, claws trying to reach out one twin, but the other twin is keeping them away from the problem,

idk what it is but a lot of things about trying to save someone else. idk why but there a lot of Jackson Wang songs in your playlist. Your self awakening might kinda look like his. 5 year difference could be significant or something could take place for 5 years. Also feels like a 5 year rewinded. (bubbly by ethan low)

I will keep it real, the way I am perceiving it, its a relationship issue that would cause some self awakening , you could have been dismissing an issue related to an ex or a relationship maybe, until the burden falls on you, causes a breakdown and you realize that when it comes to your relationships, you could be carrying a lot of burdens, where you could be trying to learn everything about your partner while adapting for them to the point of destruction, this is giving the energy of tricking and making people fall in love with you by getting to know them and pleasing them in the way they like but the question is do you like it? (LOWKEY by NIKI 88rising) maybe you do, maybe you don't when it comes to some exes. I think you are not able to search for the exact person or thing you want to help yourself, like there's so much channeling but maybe you are not able to find the right key for you to unlock your answers. It just seems like there's some answer in some ancient text or tabloid for you. Maybe this is some ancient wisdom you are not wanting to see. It just seems like you have lost your way after people pleasing for so long, collecting all sorts of fake people, never stopping till one day you hit the limit and nobody around you has an answer to your question, cause you aren't connected to anybody real in your life. You haven't made any real connections at all. I was noticing a dragon eye watching me, in its highest form this is an energy of transformation and regeneration, in its lower form it is destroying with no particular higher reasoning. I feel like your transformation is either gonna look a lot like you shedding your fake skin, and looking for better relationships in life or by being destroyed to shreds. Dragon's eye watching someone is best described as a test, so be careful of the nature of your test, it is advisable to endure the responsibilities in hand, (carry me out by mark tuan coming through....)

Keep undertaking your responsibilities as there's more than enough time in your life to sort it all out. Don't give in to the dopamine. If its meant to be, it will come back in your life, so don't worry. I am seeing an old man finally able to meet his old lady. So if this is about love, you both will meet again if its meant to be, so don't worry. I think it is more of a meeting of two souls who understand themselves and have decided to unite again. XUV car could be significant, letters Z,X,U,C.

so many Jackson Wang songs, just gives me a vibe of a got 7 fan or someone who needs to learn from his life. He was talking about having fake friends and all that in Eric Nam's podcast (2023, this reading was done 2-3 days before so Jackson and Eric Nam's new podcast doesn't seems an accident, you should definitely go watch it, there's something you can learn in there, " lowkey about chopping up/off some stuff " something I channeled, maybe chopping it up is an english word, maybe some Korean word that rhymes with "choa,chuah" idk bye then "playstation" could be significant) . Dang! just pulled some cards, the message is clear, someone here feels used, maybe through their body, and they are learning to heal themselves, maybe visually for some people here, and like only allowing people who are worth their sexual, primal or nurtural love and effort. Like you know I'm getting a quote, "you should only allow people who have touched your heart, soul and mind the permission to touch your naked self, cause the heart of sex, is the need to connect with a soul, and your soul and energy should only connect to people, who feel compatible to your heart, mind and soul," someone's name could start with "Z"

Here's your shufflemancy playlist, its filled with Jackson Wang songs. Feels like you guys are repeating a lesson. And strengthening your boundaries.

Thank you for reading

Till the end

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- with love

Abyss Seer 💗

[anyamaris]

Title: Lockdown

Word Count: 2698

Summary: Your first night in solitary confinement isn't so solitary...

Pairing: Prison Warden!Yunho x F!Inmate!Reader

Trope/Au: Non idol AU/Smut

Warnings: Adult language, definite power imbalance here so be warned, reader is a bit of a slut, oral (m. receiving), dirty talk, pet names, degradation, use of a baton, heavy on the caution side because this can be construed as coercive, but reader is into it and fully on board. NSFW 18+ as always. Just a feral mess.

A/N: Omg this would NOT exist without @sanjoongie and @pars-ley cheering me on, beta reading (it was a mess, I know) and being overall the most supportive bitches ever. I love you both.

This was definitely a feral thought born of those fucking pics of him. Stupid Yunho and Aries season. (I love him.)

The door to the cell closes with a resounding echo, the jingle of metal keys snapping the lock into place.

The heavy thud of footsteps walking away slowly fades as you roll your eyes at the small, square solitary cell.

You turn and let out a sigh as you flop down on the tiny cot, the thin mattress not giving you much comfort.

“At least I can get some fucking sleep,” you murmur, resting your forearm over your eyes.

Your mind drifts, as you realize the uneasy feeling of someone watching you, for once is gone.  

Since you’d been locked up here, the creeping sense of being watched has become increasingly disturbing.  

Between the soft breathing at night, a shadow lurking just out of sight of the bars of your cell, and the way there always seems to be someone watching you shower.

Probably just me being on edge, being in here.

The other women were always a pain in the ass to deal with but none of them gave you the impression that they were interested in that kind of way.

Well, outside of being complete cunts constantly  harassing you.

You smirk, savoring the memory of one of your fellow inmates' faces when you’d jammed your fork into her hand as she’d attempted to grab your food.

Totally worth ending up here.

You turn and curl up, a smug smile adorning your face as you attempt to get some sleep.

The buzzing sound of doors opening and closing have long since ceased to disturb you, but the slight jingle of metal keys awaken you from your drifting.

You have no way of knowing what time it is without having a window. It could be day or night, but it did feel like you’d gotten at least some sleep for once.

The heavy, clunky sound of the latch draws your attention, and you wonder if it’s time for your meal.

For a moment nothing happens and you wait, glancing at the small window of the door to see the outline of someone there.

It can only be a guard, you think, turning away to ignore them.

After a moment, the door slowly swings open, then swings closed with a loud thunk.  

I suppose they dropped off food-

The sound of breathing raises the hairs on your neck, quickly grasping the fact  that someone’s inside the cell with you.

That familiar sense of dread washes over you as you freeze on the cot, unable to turn over and face the source of your lurking watcher.

A heavy step echoes through the barren cell, then another and you tense with each one.

You are as far from a wilting lily as they come, and not much spooks you but the creeping trepidation that washes over you causes you to tremble like a newborn fawn.

Bitch, turn your ass over, get a grip, you berate yourself.

It takes much more effort than you’ll ever admit to finally force yourself up and out of the cot, your eyes flicking around to settle on the looming dark figure currently hovering over you. 

The outline of the man (you can only assume it’s a man) is imposing and tall, but the darkness within the cell doesn’t allow much room for any further observation.

“The fuck-?” You blurt out as he just stands there.

Maybe I’m having some kind of weird dream-

His ragged breaths increase as he steps forward once more, his proximity forcing you to take a step back.

A soft, taunting laugh raises the hairs on your body.

“Listen, asshole, I don’t know who you think you are but-”

“But…what?” 

His voice is soft and low, whispering over your senses like snaking fingers curling around your mind.

Just those two words are enough to have you devolving into a confused mess, and the lack of sight is only heightening your other senses.

You find yourself rubbing your arms as you wrap them around yourself, as if you can provide warmth to chase away these sensations.

The prolonged silence between you only enhances the feeling of the walls closing in around you, growing ever closer to suffocating you.

“What do you want?” you finally manage, curse inwardly at how your voice shakes.

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer, but then he steps forward one more time, mere inches from you now.

The immense pressure of his presence causes you to back up, and your knees connect with the cot behind you. You force your arms out in surprise to catch yourself but before your ass can plant onto the hard bed, strong hands are gripping you under your armpits and hoisting you up and against him.

“What do I want…” his voice crawls along inside your ears and for some reason, the sensation of his breath tickling your neck as he leans in causes you to clench.

The fuck is wrong with me, you think.

Before you can process your own fucked up sexual frustrations, he’s laughing softly as his hands slip down to your waist, then around you to cup your ass and yank you against him. 

“What is it I want….” he repeats, as if the thought has only just occurred to him.

Jesus he has big hands, wow.

Godamnit, don’t get horny from this, you fucking slut.

You gasp as his obvious arousal hardens against your lower abdomen, and a soft groan leaves his throat.

His lips brush the shell of your ear and you can feel them curl into a smile as your breath hitches.

“Would you like me to show you what it is I want?”

Suddenly the lights snap back on, and the sudden brightness blinds you for a moment before you can adjust.

Your gaze darts up to finally set eyes on your mysterious stalker and your mouth goes dry at the sight before you.

His dark eyes are huge, and you can’t tell if they are just that black or if his pupils have taken over his entire iris.

His cherry lips curve as your eyes flick over his features as you finally realize who it is that’s currently pushing his cock against you and pawing your body.

Jeong Yunho, the warden of this prison.

You’d met him briefly during one of the inspections of your cell early on, and you remember eye fucking him quite openly.

His dark hair hangs in his face under his cap, and you curse at yourself for the wanton little moan you let out as you study him.

“Answer me.” He commands, his smirk twisting into a snarl as he hoists you up even tighter up against him, your feet leaving the ground and forcing you to grab ahold of his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Yes-I mean, no! No, I-”  

“Good girl.” He whispers, pushing your back against the wall.

You can’t even form words as he drops you onto your feet and grips your hips, turning you around and shoving your face into the cold stone.

“Spread.” 

“Fuck off-”

“Ah, there’s that mouth.” He rasps out, pushing his leg between your thighs.

“Asshole, I swear-”

“What are you going to do? Don’t act like you’re not enjoying yourself.” 

He grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, using one hand to hold you in place. 

A sudden, soft rustling alerts you a moment before a hard object is forced between your legs and he uses it to pry them open as he kicks your feet further apart.

You hiss at his words, knowing how true they are and hating that he’s right.

“I’ve seen what you like to do to my guards when you think no one's looking…you’re a filthy little girl, aren’t you?”

He taps the baton up against your crotch and you yelp at the sudden sensation.

“Where’s that charisma now, baby girl? The one that has all my men on their knees for you?”

You whimper as he rubs the baton against your cunt, and you clench once more, as he taps it against you again.

“Nothing to say when you’re faced with someone who won’t eat up your bullshit, hmm?”

Your head swims from the excitement of it all and you can’t argue with any of his statements.

You buck back against him, grinding against the thick bulge in his pants with your ass.

“You just need someone to put you in your place, don’t you? To treat you like the little brat you are?”

His teeth nip your earlobe as he extracts the baton from between your legs and tosses it to the side.

“Please-” You whimper, turning your head to look up at him as you grind back against him.

His smirk only heightens your need.

“Please, what? Use your words. Please, stop? Please, don’t?” He laughs as he grabs your throat and uses his thumb to rub your lower lip, “Please, punish you?”

Your eyes roll closed and he snickers as you shudder at his words.

“Say it.” 

“P-please…”

His long fingers curl around your neck and he forces his thumb into your mouth as he grinds against your ass.

“Finish your sentence.” He commands.

“Please use me, please punish me-” you beg around his thumb, sucking gently on it before he’s pressing your tongue down.

“See? You can behave, can’t you?”

He withdraws his hand from your neck and mouth, bringing his thumb to his lips to suck on it before he steps back from you.  

Your disappointed whine has him snickering as he starts unbuckling his belt.

“Hands on the wall.”

Your eager cuntclenches at the command, the sight of him unbuckling his pants making you tremble and want to obey.

You look over your shoulder at him as he slips the belt from the loops on his pants, his eyes raking over you.  

He steps forward, unbuttoning his pants and smirking as your eyes follow his movements.

“Turn around and get on your knees.”

As much as you want to say something smart, you find yourself immediately obeying, looking up at his long fingers as he unzips his pants and pulls out his half erect dick.

Your mouth waters at the size of him, eyes widening as you lick your lips.

“I didn’t expect such obedience right away. I’m impressed.” He says, stepping forward and tapping the tip of his cock against your lips.

You immediately reach for him, eager to stroke him and feel the way his skin stretches as you do so, but he tuts and swats your hands away.

“Hands off. Open your mouth.” 

You give in to the sudden urge to defy him, pressing your lips together but he grabs your hair, his long fingers tangling in it, and yanks your head back.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself.” He growls as he presses the tip against the seam of your lips.

His rough tone has you giving in, eagerly opening your mouth to him as he stares down at you with a smirk.

You are so used to being the one on the other side of this dynamic that it makes you dizzy from the role reversal.

You stick out your tongue, and he slaps the underside of his cockhead against your tongue as he strokes himself.

“Good girl…that’s more like it…”

As much as you want to hate it, his praise only makes you more keen to please him.

You attempt to wrap your lips around him, but he pulls back with a sadistic little grin.

“Ah ah ah…you need to learn some patience, don’t you?” 

You pout, but this only earns you a sharp tug on your hair, and you moan at the pain and pleasure of it.

“Answer.”

“Yes-yes! I need to be patient.” You reply, staring at his now fully erect cock, the little bead of precum leaking from his slit beckons to you.

“How in the world did you manage to turn my guards into simping little shits, hm? Look at you, on your knees begging for a taste.”

He finally relents and you wrap your lips around him as he gently guides your mouth onto his cock. 

A soft hiss leaves his lips as you eagerly suck, your tongue rolling around on the sensitive spot right below the head.  

“Ahh…good girl…just like that…” he whispers, his fingers withdrawing from your hair to pet you.

Your stare is locked onto him, watching how his dark eyes gleam with pleasure as you work your mouth down and around his length.

His hips move slowly, his hand on the back of your head guiding you but not forcing you. The wet sounds of your mouth on him echo in the small space.

Your hands come up to touch him but immediately, he pulls out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting your lip to his tip.

You whine at the sudden movement and he glares at you.

“What did I say? No hands.” he scolds.

Putting your hands behind your back quickly, you show him your compliance.

“Ah…you’re trying, sweetheart. That’s a good first step.” He coos, as he guides your mouth back onto him.

His soft moans encourage you as you bob your head on his cock, and his hips stutter as your tongue works along the underside.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well…how much can you handle, sweetheart?” he asks, thrusting forward suddenly until he hits the back of your throat.

You feel your panties soak through at the moan that comes from him, deep and ragged, even as you gag on him.

It takes everything not to grab his ass and pull him into your mouth or cup his balls to urge him to cum quickly.

Yet the denial only makes you work harder with your mouth and tongue.

His long fingers dig into your scalp, cupping your head as he starts thrusting into your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart, gonna make me cum…you’re gonna-fuck!-swallow every drop, understand?”

You hum in agreement, and your eyes alight with glee as his hips start to stutter, his words cutting off with expletives the closer he gets.

“Such a fucking good girl, fuck, I’m gonna cum-!” He growls out, his jaw clenched as he keeps his eyes locked on you.

Your throat starts working as you feel his dick begin to pulse in your mouth, and he thrusts forward one last time. Holding your head in place, his cum erupts and cascades down your throat.  

His grip loosens and he pulls back slightly, biting his lip as he watches you finish him off.

The tangy, salty fluid fills your mouth and you swallow greedily, your stomach twisting in a heated need while watching his face contort beautifully.

Fuck, this man is making you question everything. Your needy cunt clenches as you continue sucking until he pulls out of your mouth.

He pets your hair as he looks down at you, his breathing ragged.

“Open. Let me see.” He taps your cheek with his fingers and you obey.

“Good girl.” He hums, backing up to tuck his softening cock back into his pants, zipping and rebuttoning.

You protest once he starts buckling his belt, scooting forward on your knees.

“But-” you start then stop immediately as he tilts his head and leans down in front of you.

His dark eyes study you, while his fingers trace down the length of your cheek as he smirks. 

“Oh sweetheart…such a greedy little slut for me, already?”

He chuckles at your nod and grips your chin firmly as he presses a harsh kiss to your lips.

“This is only day one, my pet.  Perhaps I’ll come back tomorrow…if you’re good.”

And with that, he turns and leaves your cell without a glance back, the heavy door slamming shut with finality.

A sense of disappointment wars with the overwhelming desire for him to return and show you just what he has in store for you.

Making your way to your cot, your fingers coax out the orgasm that he’d been building in the pit of your abdomen before you fall asleep.

You’re determined to prove that you deserve that return visit.

You can’t wait to find out what tomorrow has in store.