#First-ever Sound of Driving on Mars

[8housevenus]

3rd house placements and your voice!

hii, i wanted to do more of a light & fun themed post that goes over the kind of voice you have, the type of communicator you are, and other things as well according to your 3rd house placements. if you do not have any placements in your third, check out the house ruler and apply it accordingly, ex; my third house is ruled by pisces, apply the neptune features to it!

sun in 3rd house - talk about thinking out-loud!! sun in 3rd people are such great communicators, they get things across loud and clear. never ones to hold back, natural conversationalists, and you have a voice that often sounds younger. when you talk it's heartfelt and you feel that half-assings in conversations is just not you! sometimes, your age is mistaken due to your lengths of knowledge and the ability to express your inner child through your interests. you use your hands often when you speak! often have such a memorable voice and this placement is a strong indicator of being a music artist too; justin beiber, jay z, drake, britney spears, all very household names and all are always getting their voice impersonated by other people interestingly enough!! there's versatility that spews through these people, not hard at all for them to improvise, standup, debate, etc. can be gossipy though and involved in dramas very easily because of this.

moon in 3rd house - mental clarity goes crazy here. your emotions give you all the drive you need- creatively and you don't hold back on that. they intellectualize their emotions and can formulate feelings into words very well. the kind of voice they have is much softer, eloquent, and comforting. they're the kind of people that send you a voicemail and you listen to it over and over again because it's endearing. "say it with your chest," type of people, as the moon is mostly fixated in the chest-stomach region. they have a good discernment of their environment, walking analysts, know when to intervene, etc. celebrities with moon in 3rd; jennifer aniston, megan markle, margot robbie, etc.

mercury in 3rd house - very fast-paced talkers, versatile in the way they communicate. also uses their hands while they speak, has a witty and sarcastic tint to them when they speak. often very humorous people and naturally highly innovative. for these people ideas flow into them at fast rates, often giving them plenty of projects to work on. placement of high intelligence, and great at mirroring. "excuse me, may i interrupt," types of people. love adding on to others and i notice with 3rd house mercuries as they get older, they do become a lot quieter and keep ideas to themselves. celebrities with this include; jim carey, nikola tesla, stephen hawking, etc. (like i said super wise and funny thats a dub for sure)

venus in 3rd house - first thing that comes to mind is glamorous voice. often times they talk about their love-lives (yes they always have the craziest stories about others or themselves in love). just like the sun, these people have a notable voice too. one that can even get them famous. often these people have strong followings, or crowds that really like listening to them. highly influential and lowkey some party heads. might have some commitment troubles, but other than that they have good projecting voices- soothing, and has good posture too. celebs with this; cristiano ronaldo, taylor swift, kris jenner, etc.

mars in 3rd house - i like to say they have some of the most electric voices ever. seriously. they know exactly how to spice up conversations and they move a lot when they talk. they inspire others to take course of action, usually very good individuals at gaining crowds as well, but what differentiates venusian people and mars people- is the attitude. mars gain people's attention through their eccentric-ness. other people find mars in 3rd house bundles of expression, always on the go and actually very good manifestos. usually has raspiness and deepness to their voices because they tend to shout a lot. celebs with this; miley cyrus, harry styles, katy perry, etc.

jupiter in 3rd house - these people have a love for languages. usually very diverse linguistically, and always the guy that knows a guy. very good at developing acquaintances in their environment. usually has more high-pitched voices, slow and even sensual, but clear. they like knowing a bit of everything while they can. sometimes, these people can attract things out of thin air, and receive many comments on their voice or abilities to make their life experiences sound a lot less gruesome than it really is. kind of in their own little world and has open demeanor. often times you see these people unexpectedly associating with others that "make no sense" for them or in environments that "make no sense for them". side note: the biggest struggle these people will face is people trying to mold them to be somebody they're not. they love to expand wherever they can. celebrities with jupiter in 3rd; lana del rey, lionel messi, jim carey, and gordon ramsey.

saturn in 3rd house - mean big business ok!! let me tell you, these people are amazing at using their environments for their endeavors. they're very humble speakers, reserved and kind of talk when asked to. they are great at explaining principles of underlying things, usually seems older than what they really are. they stick to one thing at a time, and they are actually easy to read while talking to them. their body language is more telling than their words sometimes. watch a saturn in 3rd house's jaw clench when they are stressed, or crack their knuckles while thinking heavily. celebrities with this placement; steve jobs, kylie jenner, bjork, zoe kravitz, etc.

uranus in 3rd house - "you can't outdo the doer," is what i get from this placement. highly intellectual people, makes significant shifts into the world. when they speak, they're actually very good at impressions, get told they don't look like how they sound, or will attract many "haters" because they challenge status quo mentality. they will never stand down when communicating their deepest interests. they seem quirky & nerdy, however highly reliable and feels a strong sense of "these people need me." as they become older, they are more cherished, while they are younger they might seem air headed. their voices are so unique to them, that you cannot easily be reminded of them by others. they are completely in their own lanes. one of a kinds. celebrities with this placement; albert einstein, elon musk, celine dion, michael jordan, etc.

neptune in 3rd house - has a deep understanding of the environment they're in. they are very quiet and timid. these people really like to connect to people based off their souls and not their physical forms. and when they speak, they have a genuine tone and strive for genuine connection. sometimes, these people think many people they cross paths with are meant to make them feel good, feel bad, question, etc. highly accepting and others can admire this person too. seems ditzy, but on the inside is a whirlpool of feeling and emotions they sense. sometimes they can get abnormal praise, simply for the way they express themselves. i notice with these people they love to make facial movements when speaking, like very dramatically sometimes. you can always tell when these people are nervous too, watch how many times they shake their feet to soothe themselves. always seems very introspective wherever they go. celebrities with this placement; al pacino, leonardo dicaprio, beyonce, kendrick lamar, etc.

pluto in 3rd house - bringing pluto into this mix, wherever they go they love to change what they can in their environments. they want to change things for the better, and usually really find interest in talking about things that isn't so typical in conversation. they are very serious people when in discussion. they hate to say a lot without leaving impact. these people will sound much older and have a profound tone. often they bring the collective darkness to a collective lightness. i notice they love using metaphors, talking in 3rd person, and dropping their egos a lot in conversations. makes undeniable changes to societal norms or social structures. these are life changers and add some humanitarianism to everyday encounters, really love dropping a lot of their own lore too! celebrities with this; angelina jolie, martin luther king, adam levine, kylian mbappe.

thank you so much for skimming through this i appreciate it as always, let me know if you relate, disagree etc. super interesting in seeing what you think, let me know if u want me to do more like these <3

[singmyaubade]

Cindy Lou Who

james potter x slytherin!female!reader

summary: you and lily have been polar opposites from birth, disconnected in everything. but when the one thing she has crosses the bounds, you can't avoid it even if it destroys you.

warnings: eventual smut! 18+ heavy angst, cursing , jealousy

a/n: it's part 2! no, its not a dorcas and y/n love story.

i hope you enjoy and you can fw it or not, not my issue.

—

The journey to James's parents’ cabin had already been a nightmare in the making, but the fact that you somehow found yourself stuck in the car with the Marauders made it feel like the universe had personally conspired against you. It was as if Lily was trying to send a message to make you never speak to her again.

Ten minutes earlier:

You stepped off the train, dragging your suitcase behind you, and made your way toward Lily and her usual entourage. You could already feel the tension between you and the rest of the group, but at least Lily was there to distract you.

"Ah, Y/N!" Lily cheered, her arms suddenly wrapped around you in a hug. You stiffened slightly, offering an awkward smile as she pulled back to look at you. Her grin continued to grow, "We were just discussing seating assignments," She explained, glancing at the group, which was all standing around and debating loudly.

"I voted for apparating. It's quicker, and no one has to listen to Sirius whine the entire time," James grumbled, shooting an annoyed look at Sirius, who was lounging against the wall with an exaggerated sigh.

"Well for one, your apparating skills absolutely scare me," Dorcas chimed in.

Mary snorted. "Yeah, I’m pretty sure we'd show up without a neck if either of you tried to apparate us," She said, resting her head on Dorcas’s shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked over at the two boys.

Sirius immediately recoiled, "Excuse me? Leave me out of this, my apparition skills are impeccable if you ladies must know," He said, puffing out his chest and sticking his tongue out at both of them.

Marlene chuckled, chiming in, the sound light and teasing as she looked at you. "Yeah, I think we need someone with actual skill, not just a big ego." She glanced at Sirius, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Sirius shot her a playful glare, but his lips twitched as though he might actually be enjoying the banter. "You wound me, Mar. But I’ll have you know, I’ve never left anyone in a heap of twisted limbs," He said, half-defensive, half-proud.

You sighed, clearly tired of their antics as Dorcas spoke again, "Okay, okay, if you two are done with the theatrics, how about we get someone who actually knows how to apparate without leaving us in the wrong century?"

Sirius raised an eyebrow dramatically, looking at you, "Well, actually, someone insists that ‘bonding time’ means suffering in cramped cars with people you barely know, which is really quite charming," He said as if everyone was meant to agree with his sarcasm.

James shot a playful look at Lily, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Don't blame my little Lily-bear for her big heart," He teased, only for her to stomp on his foot, causing him to yelp.

“I don’t even understand why we discussed apparition in the first place,” Lily huffed, annoyed, “We are driving and that is final.”

You snorted at the sight, feeling momentarily distracted from the impending doom of the ride. Mary, ever the voice of reason, cleared her throat. "Ok Mother, back to the cars. Who's in which?"

You raised an eyebrow, scanning the group with mild skepticism. "Can any of you actually drive?" The question hung in the air, and for a split second, the group fell into silence, as if your voice had been the last thing they expected.

"Well, Remus and I can," Dorcas answered with a grin, clearly amused by your audacity. "And James already asked his parents to send over two cars," She added, her eyes twinkling.

"Wow, loaded with money, Potter?" You teased, turning to James, who shot you a mockingly smug grin.

"Don't act like you didn’t know," He replied with a wink as if he always knew how to make your sarcasm work in his favor.

"And how many people can each car fit?" Mary asked, eager to move things along.

"Four each, including the driver," James answered, his voice laced with confidence.

"Well, this is perfect!" Lily exclaimed happily, her voice full of relief. "Peter can't make it anyway, so Y/N can take his spot!"

Your stomach twisted. "Excuse me?" You nearly gagged, your face contorting in disbelief.

Lily’s eyes softened with an apologetic look. "Oh, don’t worry! They won’t bite, I promise," She assured you, gesturing to the Marauders, who were now standing off to the side like a haphazardly formed band of troublemakers.

You couldn’t hide the disgust that flashed across your face as you looked at the group. The thought of being stuck in a car with them—all of them—felt like some cruel twist of fate. “Can’t you just ride with the boys?” You asked, crossing your arms and giving Lily a pleading look.

Lily hesitated for a moment before offering a sheepish smile. “I could, but I kind of want you to get along with them, Y/N. I really don’t want to force you into anything, but they’re good people underneath the mess," She said sincerely, rubbing your palm comfortingly.

You felt the pressure building. On one hand, you wanted to be a complete brat and insisted that you’d rather take your chances with a single, less painful car ride with the girls. But on the other, you knew this trip wasn’t about you. It was Lily’s weekend, and you couldn’t spoil it just because the Marauders were a walking headache.

"Actually, Lily, it's fine," You sighed, rolling your eyes. "It’s just a four-hour car ride. I’ll survive."

Lily looked at you, her eyes full of sincerity. "Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable—"

"Yes," You groaned dramatically, cutting her off. "But if you ask me again, I will change my mind."

Lily’s face lit up with a sweet, relieved smile. “Thank you, Y/N,” She whispered in your ear, pulling you into another hug.

You smiled faintly despite the dread that churned in your stomach. You lightly pushed her off, trying to hide the weirdly sentimental feeling. "Let’s get this over with, then," You muttered, grabbing your luggage and marching toward the exit.

As you walked out of the station, you could hear the sound of the Marauders’ footsteps trailing behind you, their chatter and laughter loud enough to make you wince. Your fate was sealed, and you had no choice but to endure the upcoming car ride with them.

But who knew? Maybe the next four hours wouldn’t be as bad as you were imagining.

--

Thirty minutes into the car ride, and you were already questioning every decision you’d ever made in life.

For one, Sirius and James hadn’t stopped talking since you left the station. It was like they were competing to see who could out-talk the other, their voices blending into an incoherent mess of loud jokes, sarcasm, and the occasional burst of laughter. You swore you could hear Sirius’s voice every five seconds, but it was impossible to tell what he was even saying.

The only bearable one in the bunch was Remus—the designated driver, who for the most part, was quietly focused on the road. He had a way of staying out of the chaos, and you were thankful for that. If he’d joined in, you might have just jumped out of the car.

Unfortunately, luck had not been on your side, and James was sitting right next to you. Of course, he was. As if this trip hadn’t already been your own personal hell, the universe had decided it would be even more fun if you were forced to endure James’s company.

The luggage was shoved behind you both, making the car feel cramped in every possible way. And somehow, the small space between you and James seemed to grow more suffocating by the second.

It wasn’t like you hated him—well, maybe you did a little bit right now—but he wasn’t exactly your favorite person to be sitting next to. Especially in a tiny car where you had no choice but to pretend that everything was fine.

And to make matters worse, James had been sneaking glances at you every couple of minutes. You could feel his eyes on you, even when you kept your focus fixed firmly on the road ahead, your chin resting in your palm as you leaned against the cool window, trying to ignore the constant pounding in your skull.

You tried your best not to react. You weren’t about to make eye contact with him or give him any reason to think you wanted to engage. The last thing you needed was him making some stupid comment about how uncomfortable you were being, as if that would make it any better.

But no matter how much you ignored him, you could still feel him there, like a weight pressing on your chest.

You wondered—truly wondered—how you had managed to get yourself stuck on what was likely the worst trip in the history of trips. It wasn’t even like you’d had a choice in the matter.

You were thinking that perhaps you should've grabbed a book from your bag or even your Walkman from home.

Anything to avoid the chaotic, uncomfortable mess that was currently your reality.

But then again, you still wanted to make Lily happy. It was her weekend, and you knew how much this trip meant to her.

And you knew you had to endure this for her, even if that meant suffering through endless hours of loud barking and James Potter’s stupid glances.

But you were starting to develop a newfound dislike for the countryside and for the stupid cabin you were heading to, and especially for James Potter and his stupid face.

You were stopped in your train of thought by the loud crunching in your ears as you looked beside you in disgust to see James eating Sour Cream & Onion chips loudly.

You had hoped that James would choke on the chips he was shoveling into his mouth right then and there, but he was luckily immune to your silent prayers. Instead, his eyes flicked over to you as he extended the bag in your direction, his mouth still full.

“Want some?” He asked, chewing loudly, completely oblivious to the venom in your stare.

You groaned, slumping back in your seat and closing your eyes, hoping that maybe—just maybe—you could escape the situation by sheer force of will. But no. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to get rid of James Potter. You could still feel his gaze on you, heavy and unrelenting, like a hot spotlight.

“You know,” James continued, completely oblivious to your very clear displeasure, “You could be a little nicer.”

Before you could respond, Sirius—who had been quietly enjoying the chaos—turned around in the front seat, his usual shit-eating grin plastered across his face. “Slytherins are incapable of that. It’s not in their blood.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could snap back, Remus muttered a resigned “Sirius,” trying to rein him in.

You leaned forward, making sure your voice was dripping with sarcasm as you met James’s gaze, “And Gryffindors are incapable of not being complete and utter twats.”

James’s eyes lit up with amusement at your choice of words. You could see the smug little grin forming at the corner of his mouth, like he was proud of his ability to get under your skin.

“Ah, she speaks!” He said dramatically, as if this was some huge victory. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes and groaning. “I was beginning to think you were either deaf—or perhaps a robot.”

Your eyes narrowed as you leaned in just a little closer, meeting his gaze, keeping it steady. “I believe you’ve got something right here.” You moved in slowly, and you could see his face flush just slightly, his lips parting as if he was about to say something.

You didn’t give him the chance. “Right here…” You muttered, keeping your eyes locked on his, before quickly flicking your finger against his forehead.

James immediately shot his hand up to his forehead, wincing as though he’d been hit with a particularly nasty spell. You couldn't help but smile brightly, crossing your arms triumphantly. You were winning.

Sirius, of course, couldn’t help himself. He started laughing so hard it almost sounded like he was barking. “Wow, Y/N—1, Prongs—0!” he whooped, throwing you a thumbs-up from the front.

You heard the nickname, but your victory felt too sweet to care about it right now. You were too busy basking in your small but satisfying win. Maybe it was the most minor of triumphs, but seeing James’s smug confidence deflate for even a moment was pure, unadulterated joy.

James, still rubbing his forehead, pouted dramatically. “Good to know," He muttered under his breath, though you could hear the faint hint of amusement in his voice. “That’s what makes you happy.”

You leaned back in your seat, your grin never wavering. “You have no idea, Potter,” You said, crossing your arms again, feeling very much like you’d won the game.

You suddenly decided to just take a nap for the remaining two hours of the trip, head leaning against the cold window.

At least then, this trip will be bearable.

--

"Aww, isn’t this a sight for sore eyes?" You heard a voice mutter, and your eyes blinked open to see Sirius staring down at you with that signature smirk of his.

You hummed in confusion, realizing that your head was no longer against the window but resting on the broad canvas of a shoulder and jaw.

Your eyes widened as you quickly snapped up, inadvertently knocking your head into James's chin. He groaned in protest as you hissed from the pain in your own skull, rubbing it with one hand.

Sirius barked out a laugh, the sound loud and unmistakably amused. You shot him a death glare. James whined like a child. "Couldn’t you have just gotten up softly?" he asked, tending to his chin as if it were more damaged than it likely was.

"I was repulsed," You said bluntly, crossing your arms over your chest.

James smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Didn’t seem that way with your head on my shoulder," He teased, and before you could stop yourself, your fist landed squarely in his shoulder. He groaned dramatically.

You hated how easy it was for him to tease you, it was almost as if he didn't hate you as much as you hated him.

"Shut up, Potter," You muttered under your breath, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

Finally, Remus got out of the car, and you were beyond relieved to be able to stretch your legs and get out of the cramped space. As you stepped out into the fresh air, you were hit with the sight of the cabin—a massive wooden oak structure that dwarfed most houses you had seen. Of course, it shouldn’t have been a surprise with James's family wealth, but it was still impressive.

"Admiring something?" James’s voice called out from behind you, and you turned to see him watching you with that grin of his.

You stepped toward him, eyebrows furrowing. "We were trapped in a car for four hours together, and you still want to annoy me?" You asked, annoyed.

James’s grin only widened, something almost unreadable flickering in his eyes. "It’s just so fun," He said sweetly, his tone laced with something that made you furrow your brows deeper.

He moved past you with that same self-assured confidence, and you couldn’t help but watch him for a moment, your mind swirling with an odd mix of curiosity and frustration.

What an odd boy.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of loud cheers, and you turned to see Lily and the other girls finally arriving at the cabin. Lily immediately rushed over to you, throwing her arm around your shoulders. "This is going to be so fun!" She exclaimed excitedly, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Your expression remained indifferent as you shrugged off her arm. "Sure it will, Lils," You said, barely hiding the boredom in your voice as you moved past her toward the cabin entrance.

Inside, the cabin was everything you expected—grand yet homely. Fairy lights twinkled on the ceiling and wound their way along the railings of the stairs, casting a warm, soft glow. A beautifully decorated Christmas tree stood in the corner of the living room, and the fireplace was already crackling with flames, filling the air with the comforting scent of wood smoke.

You couldn’t help but admire the place, its charm undeniable.

Okay, maybe you were admiring it a little more than you wanted to admit.

As much as you wanted to keep exploring the cabin, you couldn’t help but feel the overwhelming desire to just collapse into a bed and escape the chaos for a bit.

The car ride had been long—four hours spent crammed between the Marauders and Lily, with Sirius and James' constant bickering as background noise. You could already feel the tension in your shoulders from it.

You made your way up the stairs, eyes scanning the doors with name cards carefully placed next to them. It was so Lily to do something like that—everything organized to the tiniest detail. When you reached your door, you saw your name beside Dorcas’s.

You hadn’t spent much time with Dorcas, but from what you’d gathered, she was a bit of a mystery.

She was quiet in a way that was similar to you, but then, the next moment, she was all sharp humor and a wild streak of extroversion. It was interesting to watch her switch between the two.

You just hoped she didn’t have any issue with Slytherins. You’d heard whispers from some Gryffindors, and while you liked to think you were nothing like the stereotypical Slytherin, you still didn’t feel like being judged by a new person.

James and Sirius were already enough of a headache on that front.

You pushed the door open and stepped into the room, instantly relieved by the sight of two beds with nightstands and soft lamps. It was cozy—nothing too extravagant, but warm. There were two separate closets as well, and a part of you actually sighed in relief. Privacy. That was something you valued deeply.

"Thank God for separate closets," Came a voice from behind you, and you turned to find Dorcas already standing in the room, “Sharing a closet can drive me absolutely nuts, I need the privacy,” She added. You hadn’t even heard her come in. Her eyes were fixed on the closets, and somehow it felt like she’d read your mind. "As do you," She added, her voice light and as if she head read your mind.

"I—I do," You stammered, caught off guard.

Something about Dorcas always made you feel a little out of your depth, though you weren’t sure why. She had this way of being so at ease with herself, and it was hard not to be a little intimidated.

Dorcas just shrugged, as if your reaction was nothing new. She walked over to the bed, settling herself against the headboard with a relaxed sigh. "Honestly, I’m glad we’re rooming together. That car ride was chaos. I’m not sure I’ve recovered yet."

You chuckled awkwardly, the tension still clinging to your limbs. "Agreed," you muttered, fiddling with your bag as you unpacked some of your things into the closet. You felt Dorcas’s eyes on you, but when you looked over, she was giving you a teasing smirk, as though she could see right through you.

"The Marauders weren’t too insufferable, I hope?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

You laughed dryly. "Well, Remus was a saint," You said, trying to keep it light. "Black and Potter, though? Bloody migraines." You sighed, shaking your head as you hung up a few shirts. "I don’t know how they do it. They thrive on being insufferable, I swear."

Dorcas let out a soft laugh, a mix of amusement and sympathy. "That’s their usual act," She said, as if it were the most predictable thing in the world. "Don’t worry—you’ll get used to it. Or at least, you’ll stop being surprised." She shifted, lying back and staring up at the ceiling, her hands behind her head.

You looked at her, unsure if you were ready to get used to them.

It's like she could read your expression or your thoughts in general.

Dorcas gave you a quiet smile. "You’ll get there," She said with surprising wisdom for someone who seemed so carefree. "Just don’t take it too seriously. They’re all talk."

I hope I never do, you thought, but kept it to yourself.

You couldn't help but think of how you would ever survive this entire trip. In all honestly, you would rather have spent it with Petunia degrading you.

And you were incredibly worried that the tension in your spine would always still there.

You looked at Dorcas questioningly, "Do you think this trip is going to be fun?" You asked, your voice quieter now as you paused in the middle of unpacking.

Dorcas rolled over onto her side, propping her head up with one hand as she looked at you with a thoughtful expression. "I think it'll be interesting. Not sure if 'fun' is the word I’d use. But you never know. It’s a change of pace, at least." She smiled. "One thing’s for sure: it’s going to be memorable."

"Let’s hope it’s the good kind of memorable," You muttered, smiling slightly despite yourself.

"Trust me, I’ve got a feeling this is going to be one for the books," Dorcas replied, giving you an amused look.

You gave Dorcas a slight smile as you both suddenly heard a thump downstairs and several voices of laughter as Dorcas stood, smiling, "Think I'm gonna check up on everyone down there, wanna come?" She asked, looking at you.

You fake yawned, stretching out on the bed. "I think I'll actually take a nap, feeling quite drowsy," You said, trying to keep the tone casual.

Dorcas gave you a smile, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Okay," She replied softly before turning and heading for the door. She closed it behind her, leaving you alone in the room.

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. Dorcas was nice, but you really didn’t feel like hanging out with the whole group right now. It was just too much.

You reached for your backpack, hoping to lose yourself in time with a book. But when you opened it, your stomach sank. No books.

"Fuck," You muttered, frustrated. You never forgot your books. You always packed them, even for short trips.

You flopped back on the bed, groaning. This wasn’t going how you’d planned.

After a few moments, you grabbed your toiletries and towels.

Screw it.

A shower would help clear your head.

You turned the tap, and the hot water came on quickly. Stepping into the stream, you let the heat wash over you, hoping it would erase the tension from your body.

The noise of the water filled the bathroom, and for a moment, everything felt quiet.

You sighed deeply, letting go of the frustration. It wasn’t ideal, but you’d figure things out later. For now, you’d let the world outside the bathroom fade away.

After a nice, long shower, you slipped into a soft nightgown, figuring you wouldn’t be going anywhere tonight. The warmth of the cabin made it easy to settle in, and you were content with some peace and quiet.

But as you put your things down, you suddenly heard Lily’s voice ringing out from downstairs.

"AAAAAH!" Her scream echoed through the house, followed by frantic footsteps.

You froze, heart racing. Was she hurt? You quickly rushed out of your room, ready to help. The moment you reached the top of the stairs, though, you saw her laughing hysterically in the living room.

"I told you she would come down!" Lily called, gleefully looking at James and Sirius, her hand outstretched for galleons.

You blinked, your heart slowing as you saw the grin on her face. "What the hell?" You muttered, out of breath.

James was looking at you in wide-eyed awe, but you couldn’t help noticing how your nightgown was just a little too revealing—way more than you’d planned for. The last thing you needed was to give James any more ammunition.

"Really, Lily?" You scoffed, already turning to head back upstairs.

"Wait!" Lily rushed to you, her eyes pleading as she grabbed your arm. "Just come hang out for a little bit!"

You immediately thought 'Fuck no!' but then you thought,

It's her trip.

You glanced at her, and despite everything, her puppy-dog eyes got to you. "I suppose.." You muttered, giving in.

Lily squealed, her excitement infectious as she pulled you downstairs. "We’re about to start the puzzle!" She said with a huge grin.

You raised an eyebrow, not sure whether to laugh or groan. "A puzzle?" You teased. "Are we in fourth year?"

Lily pouted. "Stop being such a buzzkill."

Marlene leaned over from the couch with a smirk. "Lils always makes us do something childish on the first night. Gets it out of our system before the real fun starts."

"Exactly," Mary added. "A bit of innocence before we dive into the chaos."

"And so she doesn’t feel guilty when we get wild later," Sirius teased, his grin mischievous.

Lily stuck her tongue out at them. "I do it because it’s fun! And once we finish, we can glue it and hang it up. Isn’t that cute?"

James groaned dramatically. "But Remus and Dorcas always do the best work, and the rest of us just give up."

Lily shot him a look. "Not this time. This time, we all finish it fast."

Well, that didn’t turn out to be the case.

Lily had, of course, accidentally bought a 900-piece puzzle, and it was much more complicated than anyone had expected.

You, Remus, and Dorcas were the only ones making any real progress. You were surprisingly good at it, which seemed to amuse everyone else. The three of you worked mostly in silence, with you passing pieces to Remus and Dorcas helping out when necessary.

Meanwhile, the others had either given up or wandered off. Lily, Marlene, and Mary were baking cookies, and Sirius was napping on the couch, his loud snoring filling the room.

But, as always, James was not one to leave you alone for long.

"How are you guys still working on that?" He whined, popping up beside you and peering over your shoulder. "It’s annoying and difficult!"

"Just like you," You muttered with a sly grin, not looking up from the puzzle.

James’s started smirking. "Sorry, what was that?"

You scoffed, "Just like y-"

Before you could finish your sentence, James was behind you, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you mercilessly. You yelped, trying to push him off, but he only laughed louder, his hands relentless.

Dorcas and Remus exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by the scene unfolding.

"Say it again!" James demanded, his voice obnoxiously loud.

You gasped for breath, trying to squirm away from his grasp. "Stop it, Potter!" You barely managed to keep your voice serious, but it came out more like a laugh.

"Okay, say I’m the most brilliant person at Hogwarts!" he pressed, his grin wide.

"I will never say that!" You laughed, finally able to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Come on!" James pushed, tickling you more.

"Okay, okay!" You cried, laughing helplessly. "You’re the most brilliant person in Hogwarts, now get off!"

James finally relented, sitting back with a smug smile. "That’s what I thought."

You quickly adjusted your nightgown, your face flushed with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you just got into a tickle fight with James Potter—of all people.

Lily appeared, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "What just happened out here?" She asked, her voice teasing. "I heard you laughing."

You turned away, trying to hide your embarrassment. "You didn’t hear anything."

"Actually—" James started, but you punched him lightly in the knee, making him wince.

"—I heard nothing," He corrected quickly, his voice strained as he rubbed his leg.

Lily flashed a knowing smile. "Sure," She said, winking at you before heading back into the kitchen.

You groaned inwardly. This was only the beginning, and already Lily was convinced you were best friends with her friends.

Your mind drifted back to earlier, to James’s behavior and how Lily always seemed to indulge him. It left a bitter taste in your mouth.

"I'm heading up," You said abruptly, not waiting for an answer as you made your way to the stairs.

"But the cookies aren’t ready yet!" James called after you, his voice almost pleading.

"Enjoy them when they are," You snapped, already heading up to your room.

As you reached your door and flopped onto your bed, you let out a long, frustrated sigh. This was going to be a weird trip.

[cosmicplexus]

Astrology Notes

✨ Gemini Moons more than any other placement tend to be very conflicted about their beliefs and ideas.

✨ While often believed to be harsh, moon conjunction saturn in synastry has a nurturing element.

✨Cancer Moon, Venus and Mars women tend to go into careers that satisfy their nurturing side such as careers related to welfare of children and nursing.

✨ People with Moon at venusian or Neptunian degrees 2°, 7°, 12°, 14°, 19°, 24° and 26° need to look into the arts to nurture their inner child even if it's something they've never considered before.

✨If you have Aquarian and Mercurian degrees 3°, 11°, 15°, 23° and 27° in your chart, specifically in your planets and on your ascendant- descendant and midheaven- IC axis, you should at least try a career path that requires you to utilise social media following.

✨ Men with Capricorn placements just like cancer placement men prefer older partners.

✨ Our birth charts are maps to our purpose and we need to drive ourselves to that purpose, for example Jupiter in 2nd house is the greatest indicator of wealth, but you can't acquire that wealth if you never start a business(Jupiter in 8th house may be an exception as the 8th house governs inheritance), but for most parts the principle applies.

Another example is Jupiter in the 9th house aka the "luck" placement, you can't manifest that luck if you never take risks.

✨The 22nd degree(22°) has a bad reputation in astrology when it's actually an indicator of prominence and what rewards us for a long term.

✨The Arian degrees, 1°, 13°, 25° signify the gift of leadership and where we have these can shows us where we have the potential to lead and be pioneers of something.

✨ Mars at 18° is common in those who died from violent and unfortunate incidents. I don't like doom astrology so this is not to scare anyone, but just an observation.

✨Mars in hard aspect to Jupiter in a man's chart is an indicator of an unfaithful man.

✨ While Virgo is often synonymous to stern and "left-brain", Virgo placements especially moon, Venus and Mars are amazing creative writers and their analytical approach often makes their work very pleasing because they're good with details.

✨Libra Moons and Venus people may struggle with not being in a relationship and may get into toxic relationships just for the sake of being in a relationship.

✨ Sagittarius Mars people really take travelling and adventure seriously, this isn't a stereotype.

✨ The easiest way to get the attention of people with Earth Moons, Venus and Mars (Taurus, Virgo and Capricorn) is by talking about money moves. This may sound cliché, but if it's in cosmic plexus' observations, trust that cosmic plexus' has put it to the test.

✨ People with Moon or Mars in hard aspect to Uranus need to try calming remedies such as ashwagandha, lemon balm and chamomile once in a while.

✨Aries and first house Mercuries tend to unintentionally hurt people with their words.

✨If you're interested in dating people who think you're their dream person, please look into Venus in first house synastry.

✨When looking at synastry it's very important to look at how your progressed Moons affect the relationship.

✨ Pisces Moons, Venus and Mars tend to be more in love with the idea of love opposed to being in love with people.

✨Our north node house and degree placements similarly to our Jupiter's placement tells us what easily flows for us.

✨The house your Uranus is in tells you how you use the internet.

✨Certain psychological disorders are triggered by astrological transits, for example erotomania is triggered by transit Neptune's aspects to the natal chart especially natal Venus in hard aspect to transit Neptune.

✨Gemini Moons are some of the best authors ever(I'm not a Gemini Moon, but I really admire their penmanship and ability to accurately describe notions and feelings especially if it's an 8th house Gemini Moon)

✨Taurus and Scorpio risings tend to be possessive in love due to the influence of Scorpio and Taurus on their 7th house.

~Hope you enjoyed this🌻🦋🤍please go check out this star in the making, her music helped me so much with curating these notes

🥀 Standard Birth Chart Reading ~ $15.00

🥀Birth Chart Degree Reading~ $10.00

🥀 Synastry Reading~ $15.00

🥀Career Reading~ $10.00

🥀 Natal Gifts Analysis ~ $10.00

~cosmix plexus©🦋

[pastryfication]

love at first crash | ollie bearman

part of the love at first . . . series

pairing: oliver bearman x reader note: idk if they trust ollie with a ferrari but just run with it.

the impact is sudden, a violent jolt that sends your car careening off course, your heart leaping into your throat as you struggle to regain control. the world spins around you, a blur of colors and sounds, until your car finally screeches to a stop, the silence that follows almost deafening.

for a moment, you just sit there, gripping the steering wheel with trembling hands, your breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. you force yourself to unbuckle the seatbelt, pushing open the door with shaky fingers, and step out onto the pavement. your legs feel weak beneath you, barely able to hold you up as you survey the damage.

your car is a mess, the front end crumpled beyond recognition, but it’s not the wreckage that sends your heart into a fresh wave of panic—it’s the sight of the other car. a sleek, red, and undoubtedly expensive ferrari. your stomach twists into knots as you realize just what you’ve done, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes trace the scratches marring the once pristine paint.

“oh no, oh no, oh no,” you mutter under your breath, your hands flying to your face as the reality of the situation sinks in. “i hit a ferrari. i actually hit a ferrari.”

before you can spiral any further, the door of the other car swings open, and out steps the driver—a young man, tall and lean, with dark, tousled hair that falls into his eyes. he quickly scans the scene, his eyes finally landing on you. for a brief moment, you’re caught in his stare, the world narrowing to just the two of you, and despite everything, you can’t help but feel a strange, magnetic pull towards him.

but then reality crashes back down, and all you can think about is the fact that you’ve just crashed into his ferrari, and your car is totaled, and there’s no way you can afford to fix this.

“are- are you okay?” he asks, his voice fighting hard to stay steady despite the obvious concern in his eyes. he moves toward you, but you’re too wrapped up in your own panic to register anything beyond the guilt gnawing at your insides.

“your car,” you stammer, your voice high and shaky as you look back at the ferrari. “i’m so, so sorry. i didn’t mean to- i don’t know how this happened. i just-”

“hey, it’s okay,” he interrupts gently, his voice already seeming to be calming down, the soft tone feeling almost reassuring as he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “i mean, it’s just a car. i’m alright. what matters is that you’re okay. are you hurt?”

his words take a moment to sink in, but when they do, you can’t help but stare at him, utterly dumbfounded. “just a car?” you repeat, incredulous. “but it’s a ferrari! it’s not just a car- and- and my car-” you glance back at the wreckage, the panic swelling up again. “i completely smashed my car. i’m so sorry. i don’t know how i’m going to-”

“hey, breathe,” he says, and this time, he gently places a hand on your arm, the touch warm and grounding. you don’t know how he manages to stay so calm. a man around 20 driving a ferrari and being completely calm about ruining it. not something you’d ever think possible. “we’ll figure this out. cars can be fixed or replaced—and i have an insurance.”

you nod, trying to take in a deep breath like he says, but to your horror, it catches in your chest, and before you know it, tears are welling up in your eyes. it’s all too much—the crash, the shock, the overwhelming guilt of damaging something so expensive. you’re on the verge of breaking down right there on the side of the road.

“hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice soothing as he steps even closer, forcing himself to stay calm as his hand comes to still, resting gently on your arm. “you’re in shock. i think that’s normal. just- just take a deep breath.”

his presence is oddly calming, despite the slight waver in his voice, and you focus on the way he speaks, trying to match your breathing to his. after a few moments, the trembling starts to ease, and you manage to blink away the tears, finally looking up at him through blurry eyes.

“i’m so sorry,” you whisper, your voice still shaky but a little steadier now. “i can’t believe i hit your car.”

he smiles, soft and reassuring, and it’s like the weight on your chest lifts just a little. “it’s really okay,” he says, his eyes shining with kindness, understanding, and maybe even something deeper, something that makes your heart skip a beat despite the situation. “i promise, i’m not worried about the car. i’ll get it fixed. i’m just glad we’re both okay.”

you look at him, really look at him, and there’s something almost surreal about this moment—standing here, on the side of the road, next to a wrecked ferrari, being comforted by a stranger who should be furious, but isn’t. instead, there’s a connection, something electric in the air between you.

“i’m ollie,” he says, offering his name like it’s the most natural thing in the world, as if you’re not standing in the aftermath of a car crash.

you give him your name, your voice still shaky but stronger now, and he repeats it softly. “nice to meet you,” he says, and the words feel almost absurd given the circumstances, but also strangely fitting.

you exchange insurance details, though your hands are still trembling slightly as you write. the whole time, ollie stays close, his presence comforting in a way that feels almost too natural, too easy, as if you’ve known each other far longer than these few minutes. he talks to you, his voice a calming undercurrent to the chaos around you, distracting you from the panic still simmering beneath the surface.

when the tow trucks finally arrive, you both linger, neither of you in a rush to leave. there’s an unspoken connection, something that feels too important to let go of just yet. ollie seems to sense it too, hesitating before he speaks again.

“you know, we could always grab a coffee sometime,” he suggests, almost as if he’s testing the waters. “maybe talk about something other than cars?”

“i’d like that,” you say, your heart lighter now, the earlier panic fading into something else entirely.

he smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that makes you believe in things like fate, like maybe some things are just meant to be. “great,” he says, pulling out his phone to exchange numbers. “i’ll call you.”

you nod, watching him closely as he taps away at you phone. his hair falls softly in front his eyes and a goofy grin is spread across his face.

you just crashed your cars, experiencing something possibly traumatising together, but he’s smiling goofily, and you can’t help but smile too. because who would have thought that your day would go like this?

guess you could call it love at first crash.

[akawifeyy]

drive you crazy | fic (CS55)

description: short and sweet — you prank your boyfriend, carlos sainz jr.

tropes: lovers with secrets, he's absolutely obsessed with you, age gap (mid 20s and 30), girlfriend!fem!reader

face claim: none

trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing

| note: hehehe i just know carlos would be adorable

You rolled over, facing your boyfriend, who was lying on the bed beside you. He was focused on a video that was playing on his phone, accompanied by an obnoxious laugh track. "Carlos," you whined softly.

He looked at you, pausing the reel, concern marring his beautiful features. "¿Sí?"

A half-formed plan embedded itself in your mind, and a small smirk grew on your lips. Carlos hadn't been very attentive to you all evening, which was understandable because of his enormous workload, but you were still frustrated, in more ways than one. And you knew just the way to pay him back.

"I was at the paddock yesterday and..." you huffed, hesitating for dramatic effect, twirling a strand of your hair in mock-agitation. "Don't kill either one of us." Carlos's eyebrows shot up like twin rockets shooting to space. "Uh, Lando asked me out on a date."

Carlos' face shuttered, his jaw clenching and his eyes turning into flint. "Lando asked you out..." he said, testing the words out and uttering them like they were poisonous. "Even though he knows you're in a relationship with me? Why? What did you say?" His questions were slow, betrayal and hurt shining through his words.

You averted your gaze, heat flooding your cheeks as you fidgeted with your fingers. "I don't know. I just thought it might be nice to see how other guys are, because I've only ever been with you."

"So you want to be with Lando?" Carlos laughed derisively. "Mi amor, he's been with so many women. He won't make you feel special, not like I do."

You shrugged one shoulder, feigning nonchalance. "At least he has experience."

"Princesa, why are you telling me this? Do I not pamper you enough?" Carlos pouted, confused. "I bought you that necklace you wanted, and as many books as you could wish for. What am I doing wrong? Why do you want to go to another man?"

The whole time you were holding onto the prank, adding more fuel to the fire, guilt had been building up in your stomach. Unable to hold it back any longer, you blurted, "This was a prank. I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry."

Carlos made a choking sound, his eyes widening. "You were joking? ¿Qué carajo? Why would you do that?"

"I know it was a horrible thing for me to do, I just feel super neglected," you confessed, shame sucker-punching you in the gut. "I'm sorry. Let me make it up to you."

Carlos shoved off the bedsheet covers, suddenly stalking to the other side of the room. "I need space."

"What?" Horror sunk its claws into you, flooding with you with fear.

"I thought I lost you, princesa. To Lando, of all people. My best friend." Carlos winced, his pain evident. "You're the love of my life. I thought you didn't want me anymore and... I..."

You covered your mouth with your hands. "I'm really sorry. I do want you." You got up from where you were lying, walking to Carlos with shaky feet, and tugging him to your level so you could kiss him. "I love you, Carlos."

"Mhm," he murmured, deepening the kiss, all anger dissipated at the first second of your touch.

"I mean it. I won't ever abandon you, not for anyone or anything."

"Good. Somos solo tu y yo, por el infinito."

─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───

[covenha]

Synopsis: perv!roommate!yeosang can't stop thinking ungodly things about his best friend. Pairings: Perv!bff!yeosang x fem reader Genre: smut, mdni Warnings: smut (duh), yeosang in grey sweatpants bc that should be a warning WC: 746 a/n: this is filth that has been backlogged into my brain the minute that yeosang posted *that* black and white photo on ig so you know what's up. this is purely fiction so the this does not portray his character irl in any way shape or form. this is my first time writing smut so if it's poorly written or sounds like it came from those weird alpha tiktok shorts i am so sorry. its yet another self-indulgent fic so lmk how it is. as always, feedback and reblogs are always appreciated and my inbox is open for any requests!

just imagine pervy bff!Yeosang, you guys have been roommates for a few months now as the both of you just started college together and thought that living in an apartment together was better than living in some dingy university dorm room with strangers. he thought the idea was fine then, but he didn’t realize just how hard it was living with someone he had a massive crush on. 

you guys have always been comfortable with each other. you guys wore your more… questionable loungewear around each other. but you not wearing bras around him was a new thing. when you asked if it was cool to not wear bras around the apartment since they were uncomfortable to wear all day, yeosang agreed immediately stating that he didn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your living space. but he couldn’t help but get turned on. 

the bustling city’s humid weather was a hellscape compared to the cooler temperatures you both were accustomed to back in your seaside town. this meant that when the sun was at its highest, the apartment you guys shared was like a microwave. and this also meant that you would wear lighter clothing. those thinner tank tops that showcased your chest so well, those crop tops that showed off your midriff, and those fucking pajama shorts that did nothing to cover your legs. sometimes he manages to get a glimpse of your cotton panties peeking through. All of these things adding up would damn near drive yeosang to insanity. 

the sight of you wearing clothes that left nearly nothing to the imagination sent blood rushing straight to his dick. he’s lost count of how many times he’s had to rub one out quickly in his room to the thought of you. it was starting to get out of hand if he was being honest, he might start shooting blanks and get an electrolyte imbalance.

and the dreams were the worst part. he really thought that phase was over. the awkward wet dreams he’d have at night with some unknown female living out his sexual fantasies. but he was wrong. and they’ve come back stronger and more vivid than ever. and what’s worse is, you are always the star of these dreams. 

on some nights he’d have you face down, ass up, your hands held behind your back as he fucked you to oblivion on your bed with your plushies facing the wall. on other nights you’re riding his dick whining about how deep he is inside you that you can feel him in your stomach. and other times he has you splayed on the kitchen counter as he eats you out for so long you start shaking violently and squirting on his pretty face. 

on this particular night he has you on his bed, your neck marred with red splotches of his love bites. you whine about it being too much, and i mean who could blame you? he had been going at it for 3 rounds already and he didn’t show any signs of stopping. with your thighs on his shoulders, he was practically folding you in half and the aches of his passionate love making were starting to seep into your poor body. but yeosang persisted, mumbling something about how he was almost there. and it truly felt like he was. 

your spongy spot had been abused beyond belief and your whines of his name were the only things coming out of your mouth at this point.

“Sangi….”

“Sangi….”

“Yeosang!” 

and he comes so hard in one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had in his life. 

“Dude, get up!” 

he’s groggy as he hears your voice. he’s laying on his front, face plopped down on his pillow. he groans as he wakes up from your shaking. 

“We’re gonna be late for the bus, Sang. You have like 20 minutes to get ready.” you shake him some more to snap him out of his sleepy state. 

he just hums in a sound of agreement before he breathes a sigh of relief as you walk out of his room and close the door. he can feel the spurts of come in his sweatpants sticking uncomfortably around his now soft dick. his grey sweatpants were stained a dark grey in the groin area. he came so much that he felt it dripping down his leg when he stood up. man, how was he supposed to survive 4 more years of this torture? 

[illbegottenfaith]

ordinary people

when tom shows up at your door, bruised and bloodied, you finally find the strength to turn him away for good (tom riddle x reader)

a/n - ahhh this concept has been living in my head for a month now ever since I had a dream based off of this post by @iniquitousyearning ! I don't normally write for tom (and I might never again) but I just havent been able to get this scene out of my head, enjoy!!

tropes/warnings - no happy ending, mild descriptions of injury, angst

word count - 1.7k

"Get your coat."

He glances over his shoulder. and when he turns back, you see the cagey, stricken look in his eyes. The bright red gash along his cheekbone is startling against the pure white late February frost blanketing your doorstep.

"We're leaving."

It's been months since you last saw Tom. Up until 30 seconds ago, you had no idea if he was dead or alive. But here he was at your door with a bloodier face and more nervous disposition than when you last saw him. Every few seconds his eyes dart behind him, suspiciously scrutinising the perfectly innocent tree line.

And now, he's asking - no, telling - you to leave with him, to go God knows where for God knows how long to do God knows what.

"Your face," you whisper tenderly. "You look awful. What happened?"

He doesn't reply. Not that you expected him to. He distractedly runs a hand along the cut on his cheek.

"Never mind that," he says coarsely. "We have to go."

He shifts his weight between his feet. You take a closer look at his face. It's marred by a few cuts here and there, tiny scratches that would otherwise seem insignificant. The kind of injuries only a careless person sustained, as Tom would say.

You followed his flickering gaze, peering into the distant woods that encircled your home. You didn't want to find out what kind of monstrous things would drive a man like him, one who ruled his life with an iron fist, to the brink of insanity.

You drag your eyes back to his bruised face and grimace.

"Maybe you should come inside. Sit. Have some tea."

But you don't step back to let him through. It's as though you already knew he'd refuse. He glances behind again. You've seen him disturbed before, you're sure, but never this...anxious. Wild. Desperate. Unhinged.

"We need to leave," he repeats, as though you hadn't heard him the first 12 times. "Now."

You exhale.

"I...can't." Your voice is shaky and you finally recognise the trembly feeling hurting your bones as fear. The tension coils between you, palpable. His sharp gaze narrows as he picks up on your hesitation.

"I don't have time for this," he mutters. "Get your coat and let's go."

"To- "

"You don't understand," he snaps, his impatience bleeding through. He takes in a deep breath. "How could you?" he continues in an unnervingly detached, pleasant tone. "This is beyond you. Just...listen to me. Go fetch your coat, and I promise - everything will make sense soon."

"I can't," you repeat plaintively. "I haven't seen you in months, Tom. I didn't know if I would ever see you again. I can't up and leave my friends, my family, just because you want me to." You scoff weakly. "I can't just - "

"You said you loved me."

You flinch. The memory knocks the wind out of you. It had happened late one night at a muggle pub in London, of all places. Watching him order another glass of whiskey, you had felt so overcome, so sick with infatuation that before you realised what you were saying, the words had tumbled from your lips, clumsy and uncouth.

Tom takes a step towards you, his silhouette looming ominously. This close, he's wicked, animalistic - all teeth.

"Don't you love me, sweetheart?" he croons, almost lovingly dragging his knuckles down your cheek in a lover's caress. But you know better. You turn your face away, your eyes fluttering shut. You can feel yourself beginning to overheat. This isn't right, you think. This isn't fair.

"I can't love you when you do bad things to good people," you force out with difficulty. It sounds stupidly naive even to your own ears.

His face darkens. You can hear the undisguised displeasure in his tone.

"If you loved me, you'd understand."

"If you loved me, you'd stop."

Tom stiffens. You've crossed a line. His eyes gleam dangerously.

"You're being ridiculous. You're acting," he snarls, "like a child." He looks away, eyeing your home distastefully. Yet beneath the venom in his tone, you hear it - the bargaining creeping in.

"You’re better than this," he urges. "You don’t belong here. Playing house. Pretending you’re ordinary. And I know that..." he pauses, curling his fingers at the base of your skull, "...because you're just like me."

You blink back tears. "I don't think so, Tom," you say quietly. "There's no one quite like you."

"You could be."

You shake your head, trying to keep a brave face even as you feel yourself start to fall apart. "I don't want to live the way you do," you say, your voice barely above a whisper, now nearly weeping. "Why is that so hard to understand?"

His expression falters. It's as though it's crossed his mind for the first time that he might have to leave here without you.

"Fine," he finally spits out bitterly, his spiteful side rearing its ugly head. "Live a miserable life and die in a pauper's grave for all I care." He sneers at you with all the arrogance of a blood purist. "I thought you were different. But you're just as weak as the rest of them."

You recognise his diatribe for what it is - a poor, petulant attempt at punishing you for abandoning him. He turns, the snow crunching comfortingly beneath his shoes. You feel your heart shattering with every step, but you can't look away out of morbid fascination.

He pauses at the foot of your porch and looks up at you coolly.

"I could have given you everything."

You sigh regretfully. You almost feel sorry for him.

"Not everything is yours to give."

[medusaesque]

Lt. Kim Kitsuragi and the pale-

Warning- it's insanely long.

1. After life, death

One of the first thing you can learn about Kim is that he would hurl himself in death's way to save you. From the very first moment, Kim is related to sacrifice and death, it follows him wherever he goes-

The slaughterhouse.

He lost his parents at two years old. He worked a year in Processing (here's good post about that by @renmorris and @spilledkaleidoscope). He lost his partner, Eyes. People have taken a bullet that was meant for his more than once. His survivor's guilt is insane. He's killed six people. He's afraid of killing recklessly, and has a deeply unhealthy relationship with his gun (made another embarrassingly long post about that).

Kim also hears pale 'ghosts' on the police radio all the time, and talks about it like it's normal, and says he doesn't believe in ghosts.

If harry is with Noid during the Moralist dream quest (more on it later), Harry can even wonder if Kim is a ghost, prompting this beautiful exchange-

And he's not entirely wrong. When Harry gets shot, after Kim fulfills Espirit's promise he'll stand in death's way for him, you can ask as you fall into darkness what will happen to you-

It's the living who are ghosts. You can leave them behind and rest. Go into the wild pale yonder, along with everyone else Kim has ever cared about. Or at least you can try to.

When death is at the door, you have two options-

2. After death, life again

Kim might associate himself with death, but Harry associates him with life again and again- Death is darkness, Kim has a light bulb halo. Death is a sunset, Kim is a sunrise. Death is where you are when the game start, it's ready to take you, and then- a clarion call, the sound of a motor carriage, a detective arriving on the scene, and you open your eyes.

The game is very clear about Harry being a ceaseless agent of the world (here's a good compilation by @junawer) but he's not the only one. Harry stands at death's door twice, and Kim is his way back to the world both times.

3. After the world, the pale

So what is Kim's relationship with the pale?

As casual as he might try to appear, Kim is clearly uncomfortable with the pale, attempting to protect Harry from it. When Harry brings up the pale, he intervenes, genuinely worried for the fragile stability of his mind.

It's no more terrifying than water or death or that we're stuck behind our eyes for all eternity?? Sounds pretty terrifying Kim...

The key is in the moralist vision quest, When Harry attempts to each the Committee of Responsibility, and he hears the pale crosstalk coming through the radio, when suddenly-

"Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything." You could hear anything, but you hear Kim. If he isn't with you, Soona even says that the odds of us hearing him, out of all the voices in the pale, are astronomically low.

We know the past has not been harmless to Kim, we know it's full of ghosts and cold winters, but that's not the thing that's eating at him-

Kim is afraid of forgetting. He's constantly writing, he thinks through his notebook, always recording, so he wouldn't lose anything. That's why the pale is so terrifying.

4. After the pale. the world again

The world is what it is. God is in his heaven. Everything is normal on Earth.

Volta do mar is a skill unique to Kim, according to the stats of this pilot jackets-

It makes sense, seeing how the only real advance in pale transit is the speed with which an aerostatic craft can pierce it.

His Black jacket is a bit more complicated-

DISTANT ENEMY OF HIMSELF?? kim.... The connections to Seol is intriguing here, considering how Kim tries to distant himself from it. I'm also not sure what 'sitting down for volta' would mean in this context, would love to hear some of you guys' thoughts.

It's driving me crazy to think how Kim wanted to be pilot as a kid, and is walking around dressed like a pilot as an adult, to give himself the ability to navigate the pale. To return from the sea and fulfill the role he has to play in the world, the thing Harry thought about a million times-

But we know Kim has a bigger role to play, he's trying to do his part right now, convincing Harry to stay-

His connection to Harry can keep him on this world once again. Keeping the two of them together. Your real work is down here, both of you-

Kim was right, each of them has a role to play in the world, but it's not a minor one. Him and Harry are Revachol's only hope. If they stick together they could keep her on this earth, stop the end of the world.

UNITY AMONG THE RANKS IS PARAMOUNT.

I NEED YOU. YOU CAN KEEP ME ON THIS EARTH. BE VIGILANT.

I LOVE YOU.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

ope.. i got brainrot while driving into work again so here's a rockstar!eddie steddie blurb that goes with this song.

cw for possible refrences to suicidal ideation depending on how you interpret the lyrics (more literal or more metaphorical)

pairing: steddie | word count: 840 | rated: M

The first time Eddie tells Steve he loves him, it’s while they’re awash in the afterglow; Eddie’s still half sprawled over Steve’s bare back with his finger tracing patterns idly over his skin.

“I could trace enough constellations on you to get from here to Mars.” he says as if voicing a thought rather than to Steve.

“Oh yeah?” He snorts.

“Mmhm. And I’d love you from here to there too.”

The steady movement of Steve’s back shudders to a stop, his breath faltering. “Oh yeah?”

A new featherlight touch grazes the skin between his shoulder blades. Eddie’s lips. “From here to Mars, sweetheart.”

Mars becomes a thing between them, and between them alone; “Love you to Mars, Stevie,”, “I love you all the way back home, Eds.” or after some bigot gives either of them grief over their relationship, “Let’s just run away.”, “To where?”, “Hmm. I dunno, maybe Mars?”

So when Eddie has enough of Hawkins, when he does run, and his note is devoid of any reference to their neighboring red planet, it’s crushing.

Steve finds out from Wayne that Eddie and the boys had gone to New York, a two album contract for their band too good of an opportunity to pass up.

He’s jaded and hurt for a long time. Well into Corroded Coffin’s rise to worldwide stardom, and the feeling lasts until a headline in the aisle of the grocery store catches his eye. It screams ‘CORRODED COFFIN’S NORTH AMERICAN TOUR CUT SHORT.”, but there are more: “Frontman Eddie Munson checks in”, and “Eddie Munson: More substance than substance?”.

He and Robin are in Chicago now, running a small bookstore/coffee shop, and Jeff gets in contact with him.

“He’s okay, he’s already doing better. I figured you’d want to know.”

Jeff says it’d been getting worse and worse until Chrissy (who had long been the Robin to Eddie’s Steve, and who’s now his manager) had had enough and sent him off to get help. “He’ll be back sooner than later, I’m sure.”

The next anyone besides Chrissy hears from Eddie, it’s on the radio. A new song from Corroded Coffin’s Eddie Munson that’s nothing like anyone had ever heard from him. 

Steve hears it first when he’s preparing to open one day, that’s part of the reason why it comes as such a surprise. He has never tuned the shop radio to anything other than the mainstream channels, not wanting this exact thing to happen and hear the voice of the man that broke his heart to pieces.

“Up next, a change of pace from the currently still elusive Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin fame,” the announcer says as the song starts in behind him. Steve freezes at the name. “You heard of this guy? He and that band of his had been making waves in the metal scene for years now; and he’s reportedly been checked out of rehab for a couple months without anyone hearing anything from him. Until now.”

The song starts for real now, the acoustic fading into the background as a voice so unmistakably Eddie, his real southern twang leftover from growing up in Tennessee shining through, breaks through it.

Steve’s so floored at hearing his voice again, that he doesn’t really register the lyrics until Eddie croons out “What if I run away to Mars?”

“Mars.” Steve breathes out.

Eddie is singing about Mars.

Steve had always assumed he was forgotten. That after the years of fame and years without him, that the memories Eddie had of him would be locked away just as tight as Steve’s of Eddie were.

He can’t even continue to think about it because Eddie keeps going, “Would you find me in the stars? Would you miss me in the end, if I run out of oxygen?”

Eddie’s singing on his own, it’s just him and his guitar and his own backup vocals and he sounds so horribly sad.

Eddie’s not okay. Eddie’s not okay! Where is he? Where did he go after getting out of rehab?

Steve whips his phone out of his pocket, leaning heavily on the front counter now for support, and searches frantically for Chrissy’s number.

He’s hoping she hadn’t changed it when Eddie’s voice comes back in over his guitar, “I can't tell which way is home, I've been gone for so long..It's an empty world up here“

Steve freezes again.

He listens to the entire rest of the song there. Phone in hand, thumb hovering over the call button, and heart however many miles away to where Eddie is.

“Three, two, one, I miss you..I'm sorry I got issues” Eddie sings.

Steve finds himself thinking ‘I miss you too’ and ‘It’s okay.’

Eventually, the song ends with Eddie’s voice only. No backup instrumentals, only his voice crooning harmonically with himself 

“Would you miss me in the end if I run out of oxygen? When I run away to Mars..”

He presses the button.

“Steve,” She says in a surprised greeting, “Hi!”

“Where is he?”

star divider is from @saradika

short little part 2 here! | also on AO3

[fishyvamp]

If you’re comfortable with it, I would be honored to get a small, ⟡spicy⟡ Amanda x F!Reader snippet! :) I’m not picky or specific on AU’s, so feel free to do any you’d like, or not at all if it’s easier! <3

Thank you for this opportunity! I’m always looking forward to your works and rambles! - Cozy

I love Amanda, the Saw franchise will always be near and dear to me as it was the first real horror movie franchise I had ever seen. I also love your work and am so excited for your upcoming fics and to be honest I had an outline already for kinktober that I never did with Amanda X F!reader.

As always NSFW 18+ MDNI (sensory depravation, blind folded, Knife play, temperature play)

I hope you enjoy it Cozy!

Your body shivered in the cold, hands bound behind your back as you felt the bite of the icy steel chair beneath you. You could hear the swings of chains around you the scent of decaying meat heavy in the air. "Looks a bit nippy wouldn't you say dear." Amanda cooed the sharp end of her knife dragging up your chest following the curve of your tits, the tip flicking a hardened nipple causing you to gasp, swallowing thickly you looked at the direction of her voice. Leather gloves tracing your hip.

You were only slightly panicked as the knife came back, dragging along to your throat pressing in just enough to feel the start of warm blood dripping down your chest. "God you are just so pretty in red." She purred you could feel the leather of her coat as she leaned in for a better look. Her body tensed as she was fixated on you. Her hands dragging the blood along your chest as she marred your skin with her blade. Not enough to hurt. No, she just wanted enough to just see you bleed. She wanted to feel the way your skin cooled as your own blood sapped the heat from your body freezing to your beautiful skin.

She loved the way your skin seemed to glow when painted this way. Her fingers dipping lower finding your clit, rough fabric creating delicious friction that was driving you mad as you leaned forward moaning into the touch, the killer spelling her name into your folds. "Tell me dear, who do you belong to?" She cooed hot breath against your sending a jolt straight to your core legs spreading further apart. "You," you whine trying to press into her hand to get more out what was happening. You were her's and only her's. A pay thing for her to enjoy and torment. "Such an eager piglet. Such a pretty piglet." She chuckles circling your greedy little pussy. "Bet you just wanna taste me inside you don't you. Want me to warm you up. Save my pretty piglet from freezing." Her hands moving away causing you to involuntarily whine from the loss of pressure. Why had she stopped what she doing? The thought going away in a moment as she shoved her cum soaked glove in your mouth.

"clean me, show me how hungry my little piglet is. Show me what a good girl you are." Amanda barks. Your tongue darting out tracing and lapping at the rough leather, your head twisting as you work every crevice you can. Cleaning what you could taste of your spend on her. This pleased her greatly a purr practically coming from the other woman. She pulled away once more. The sound of shuffling could be heard as the glove was pulled off and tossed some remote part of the room. A warm hand almost instantly finding your folds spreading and teasing them before two very skilled fingers entered you, pressing against your spongy walls. Teasing your sweet spot.

"Amanda!" You moan loudly head falling back as you tugged at the bindings wanting hold on to her to wrap yourself in her warmth. Mind flooded with the feeling of her stretching you, teasing you. As she worked to pull you apart, it was maddening you couldn't watch. Maddening you couldn't see her think. Maddening you couldn't predict what she was going to do next. "More!" You moan greedily, hips bucking into Amanda's hand. She tsked softly shaking her head, "you take what I give you piglet, and if you're not satisfied I can leave you in the cold instead." She threatened even if her fingers didn't falter. A chuckle escaping her, you had clenched around her fingers. The threat seemingly exciting you more, "such a slutty pussy, so hungry to be punished aren't you piglet. That's okay. I'll take my time. I want to make you really suffer."

[darth-ora]

That's an Order cassian andor x fem! reader

things could have gone horribly wrong, but they didn't

cute little cassian fluff

(this is my first published writing piece, theres probably so many grammatical errors, so please excuse that)

Your ship ascended above the white salt of Hoth, stirring the blanket of white to reveal the red clay beneath. A gunfight had broken out on the way back to the ship, ever hyperfocused you didn’t comprehend the words being yelled at you by a one Cassian Andor. Everything was fine now, he was safe, you were safe and you had managed to get the drive you were looking for. It was successful in your eyes but not to Andor. You were almost unaware of the anger that bubbled inside of him after he closed the hatch behind you, the last to board the ship. The action that gave his anger away was allowing anyone other than himself to pilot the ship. K-2 was in charge and it was only a few seconds before the sounds of metal doors slamming against the cockpit door frame that jerked you out of your adrenaline rush. 

“I told you to leave! I gave you an order!” Cassian yelled at you. You had taken a seat to stop the swimming in your head and the lights of blaster fire shooting from behind closed eyes. He was still standing, clearly unable to calm himself enough even to sit. 

“Instincts kicked in.” You shrugged off, “I saw you going back in and I did what I thought I needed to do. We got away just fine Captain, is it a problem?” Maybe the mission hadn’t gone to plan but Cassian always did this. You would follow your instincts and save his ass but he would only see it as you being reckless.

“The problem is you almost died!” Cassian shouted. “You almost die every day?!” You finally raised your voice. “That’s me not you!” “So you’re allowed to die like a martyr but no one else can do the same? Cassian why do you do this every time!” Your voice was the only thing you could hear, reverberating off the metal walls of the ship.

“Because I love you!” Cassian’s voice boomed. It cleared your mind, you couldn’t feel your body, or your heart beating, just a high-pitched ringing in your eyes. Had you just died after hearing those words?

“What?” Your face scrunched in confusion, every sound was muffled. You honestly thought your brain had made up those four words. They never fell from Cassian’s lips, not possible, not to you.

“I…I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry,” Cassian tried to brush past you, but you weren’t going to let that happen. “Cassian seriously what did you say.” Holding your head and bringing yourself to sit back down, the adrenaline was wearing off and you could feel the effects of not listening to your captain. “It sounded like you said you l-…it sounded like you said something Cassian Andor would never say to me.” You laughed it off, breathless, holding onto the scraps of reality. You were in the middle of a revolution, now was not the time to be delusional.

“Then either you heard correctly and think too low or yourself or you are having a hallucination.” Cassian’s anger was gone now, at least you think it is. Your vision is still slightly marred with streaks of light from the blasters. “Cassian, seriously. I don’t have the mental strength to decode your words right now.” Putting your head between your knees you finally ask for help. “Are we going to the med bay?”

Cassian bent down and rubbed your back, “K-2 is taking us there now. We should be there soon.” Cassian took off his jacket and crumpled it into a makeshift pillow. Gingerly he pushed your form to lie down on the bench that occupied the hallway outside of the cockpit. “Rest, I’ll get you when we land.”

You don’t remember getting to the med bay, getting off the ship, or being put into a batca pod but there you were. Panic rose in your system, it alerted everyone outside of the room but the first to your side was a familiar blurry figure, distorted by the liquid you lay in. That brown mess mop of hair couldn’t be anyone other than, “Captain Andor, she will need to stay here for a few days to make sure she is fully healed. Would you like to walk with us to her new room?” Then the memory went black, flashing in and out of consciousness while the nurses and droids wheeled you from the batca room to a new room, secluded from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the hospital. You remember the bright lights of the room blinding you before you decided you needed to rest once again. 

When you awoke you had no idea how long had passed but the lights in the room had since dimmed. There was the faintest dip in the bed, some weight that wasn’t from your body. When your eyes adjusted you saw the figure of the famous Captain Cassian Andor mouth wide open, snoring with his head rested against his outstretched arms that were laid right beside yours. If this had been anyone else you would have woken them, wanting desperately to talk to someone. But it was your Captain, your best friend since you two were teenagers, you knew he rarely would rest himself, and usually, his rest was interrupted. You let him sleep, each minute your hand itched to move closer to the one he had in the hospital bed. Only your pinkies were touching when a nurse droid came in— blinding you by turning on the lights and jolting Cassian from his sleep. Blaster pulled out on the poor nurse droid. You laughed causing Cassian to notice you were finally awake. 

The look in his eyes made you want to push the nurse droid out of the room but every answer to her made her stay even longer. It felt like an eternity before she said you would be released later today.

“You snore.” As soon as the droid had closed the chamber door. “You do too.” Cassian seemed to be checking over all the vitals, who knows if he knew what any of them meant.  “Cassian, will you please tell me what you said on the ship now?” “What, that you almost died? And now here you are after five hours in a batca pod?” “No smartass, after that.” You thought about it for a second, if you just said what you thought he did and it was wrong just blame it on the wooziness of being under batca for that long. “It sounded like you said you love me.” Even with the excuse already planned you couldn’t help but laugh in case of being rejected. 

Silence fell in the room, but Cassian’s eyes said everything. “Kassa…” You had reverted to his old name, his real name. Because now he was trying his hardest to act as if he didn’t know the language you were speaking. “I can read you like a book, but I would like for you to confirm or deny with words.” There was caution in your eyes, you could see it reflected in his, past all the stars in the galaxy that floated in the brown irises. 

Still no words, just a huff and then movement, movement that led to his lips locked with yours. Breath being taken away, reality and fantasy blurring together. He pulled away far too quickly for your liking, maybe it was because of some machine in the background beeping erratically all of a sudden. His eyes widened for only a split second before you pulled him back down with you. You swear you could feel him laugh against you. It turned out to be true. A droid came back into the room to check on the machine and Cassian with no shame didn’t move from your figure. His forehead rests against yours, a smile graced his face. 

“I love you” He whispered as your attention had to be ripped from him and towards the droid nurse once again. Your heart warmed, and you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You begged mentally for the droid to leave again. And as if it was magic the droid left, leaving you to now be shocked that Kassa, the Kassa, Kassa from your childhood was smiling at you. You were the cause of that smile. “All these years I wished to be the reason for you to smile.” You said slightly cringing at your own words but Cassian’s gaze made it melt away. “You’ve always been the reason behind it, mi amor.” You leaned into his touch, his rough hands caressing your face.  “That was kind of gross Captain” you smiled up at him, “but I love you so I’ll look past it.” Another chuckle came from him, you felt the vibrations through his body as you did the best you could to hug him from your place in the bed. He kissed your hair, then your cheek, and lips, before grabbing his coat and kissing your hand.  “I’m going to go sign the release forms for you, I’ll be back.” He was halfway through the doorframe when he looked back, “Stay where you are. That’s an order.” “Is that from Captain Andor, or my Cassian?”A burst of confidence was already getting to you. “Captain Andor, soldier.” Voice stern but face was distorted with the cheesiest of smiles. You sat in the bed pinching yourself. How after all these years of pining and hiding it did you get to tell Cassian Andor you love him? and he loves you? An answer you’ll never know but you’ll be sure to get some theories from Maarva.

{thank you so much for reading! i hope you liked it!! like i said this is the first piece ive ever publicly shared so any NICE critiques would be much appreciated... maybe i'll post some more?}

[real-life-senshi]

PGSM Reinako things I want to yell about, in no particular order (9/∞)

"Mars Reiko"

I feel like this is another one of those Reinako moments/hints that I don't see people talk much about, but I absolutely have been thinking about it since I first watched PGSM. lol

I absolutely loved that PGSM had Minako be the only person to ever give Rei a nickname, and the specific nickname is just... too good to be true?????

I don't mean the "Mars" part of this, since it's so self-explanatory. But the "-ko" in "Reiko"???? Oh boy.....

Some context about the character "-ko" and its use in Japanese:

The "ko" sound in kanji is "子", which usually means "child". But depending on the context, the character could also reinforce a sense of "preciousness" or "endearment" when used on someone with familiarity, since y'know.... children are generally precious and endearing. (Says the OP who doesn't like children... lol)

It's a Japanese diminutive (a "cute" version of a word), more often used in female names (though less often in the present than it was a few decades ago). Case in point - "ko" in "美奈子" (Minako).

While not as commonly used, it does get used in making pet names/nicknames, usually for young kids or girls.

When someone uses "-ko", especially between romantic partners as a pet name, it usually denotes a sense of affection, endearment and possession (in the sense that this is "my chosen person", not as in "I own them" coz that'd be nasty), as if to say their partner is precious to them.

Now, as I said, "-ko" pet names are not the most common, BUT it does get used. And in the original canon (manga), which couple uses this pet name?????

USAMAMO!

Now, Reinako shippers, think about Minako calling Rei "Reiko."

Not to mention you can also see this as Minako choosing to slap a character of her own name into Rei's nickname.

When I think about this fact I just go... ADKADHOR#BJ#@!JFawtjI@J*#Y$#*@B 🤯🤭

Admittedly this is one of my sillier, surface-level posts in this Reinako series, but thinking about this still drives me crazy!

I would love to be able to ask writer Kobayashi-sensei just what exactly was going on in her galaxy brain when she decided on Rei's fake stage name? Like did she even realize this is another Usamamo parallel that she did? Especially coz Mamoru doesn't call Usagi "Usako" in the live-action, as if she just gave that right to Reinako. lol

[blue-disco-lights]

✨ Weekly Tag Wednesdays ✨

Thank you! @mybrainismelted @energievie @deedala @lingy910y for tagging me in this 💕 I like all of these questions!

Name:  Julia

Location: By an open window as we are having an October heat wave

Did you collect anything as a child? Stickers! There was a whole era (80s kids you will recall) that stickers were all the rage and there were themed books where you could collect them. I still kind of have a thing for them.

Do you collect anything now? I promised myself i never would - but yes, i get fridge magnets when I visit a new city.

What random piece of office equipment do you have a weird attachment to? This made me thing of when Jim put Dwight’s stapler in jello. Otherwise, let’s give it up to the 3-hole punch, you must feel so neglected.

Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.  Right arm - the dining room chair next to the one im sitting on. Left arm - my insulated coffee cup, from which I will be drinking for the next 2 hours.

Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?  OK wow you’ve read my mind I’ve always wanted to tell you this story. I love driving. In college, I was on my way to visit a friend’s dorm in another city, and I (very lightly!) crashed into the car in front of me……. while listening to “Crash” by Dave Matthews Band.

You’ve been given $1000 but you can only spend it at one store. which store do you choose?  Spend it on stickers! JK… quite possibly Uniqlo for a full closet of Fall basics. (but the answer is probably Target or Amazon)

What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?  My self-deprecating humor? 

What's your go-to flavor for cough drops?  Honey - but then Cherry

What does your latest text message from someone else say? “It’s also a new moon today 🌝”

What are your preferred pizza toppings? It sounds so fancy, but Trader Joe’s has this Mushroom & Black Truffle one that’s so good.

If you wish to play! 🪄 otherwise, sending you all a sweet treat @palepinkgoat @jrooc @sgtmickeyslaughter @michellemisfit @suzy-queued

@francesrose3 @creepkinginc @ian-galagher @echotrees @thisdivorce

@em-harlsnow @doshiart @spoonfulstar @spookygingerr @gallapiech

@transmurderbug @mmmichyyy @silvanshadow @sam-loves-seb @samantitheos

@tsuga-of-mars @takeyourpillsbitchh @heymrspatel @gallawitchxx @crossmydna

@wehangout @i-think-you-mean-reduction @sickness-health-all-that-shit @catgrassplantdad @atthedugouts

[thedrarrylibrarian]

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

[oensible]

"Nothing to see here, just Hannan and @/jasondemers5 using @/BrodieNBCS as a crash dummy 😂" —Sharks on NBCS/X (2024 Mar 19)

[Video description: Brodie Brazil hosting a Sharks game intermission segment in which retired NHL players and former Sharks Jason Demers and Scott Hannan demonstrate how to win hockey board battles. The clip opens with them introducing the segment while standing on the ice in front of a net. They are in skates and are holding sticks, but the only visible protective hockey equipment is their gloves and Brodie's helmet. For completeness, transcript below the cut will include the opening and closing segments that are not included in the video but were in the original broadcast cut. There will be notes on where the clip above actually starts/ends in the transcript.

BB: We're here to talk about how to win a board battle.

JD: Scotty's favorite. (Hannan laughs)

BB: Who wants to go first? Hanner?

SH: Well, definitely when me and JD played together, (Demers and Brodie laugh) SH: I was the guy who went into the boards and, and—

BB: He's the support guy.

JD: I'm—yeah.

SH: —one battle, we let JD break the puck out—

JD: Yeah.

SH: —so it was a lot of controlling the guys, trying to have closure, and then allowing the puck to get to JD's stick for the breakout.

JD: I just say, "Hey kid, just give me the puck and I'll do the rest." (Hannan laughs) JD: I used to say—no, I always…

BB: Are there really tricks when the puck goes to the wall, and your opponent's there, and you both arrive at the same time? Like, what are we trying to gain out this? It seems simple, but there's a lot of technique to it.

SH: No, there's a lot, there's a lotta technique, you gotta control—sometimes, you're facing guys that are really quick, and they can really move, then other times you're facing really big, strong guys. You look at, like, guys like Kopitar, they're big bodies, they can muscle ya—Joe was a big guy like that. Whereas there's quickness, too. You look at Sidney Crosby and MacKinnon. You gotta contain them in a different way, but once you got contact—

BB: Yep.

SH: —it's how you close and control their bodies.

BB: You know, like JD I'm there for support, but I'm out at the red line for support. Just find me, find me with the puck. Yep. I'll be going there right away.

JD: But if you ever do get in a battle, especially for kids, it's to never go in with your stick up in the air, you always wanna get stick on puck first, close the distance, and then you get to the—we used to call it the "Scotty Hannan two-hand"—and then you get in tight.

(Demers demonstrates by holding his stick in both hands across his body with his arms flat to his sides, then skates forward, gently driving the shaft of the stick into Brodie's hip to shove him.)

BB: Scotty two-hand!

JD: Scotty two-hand! And then you get in on the hips, and like [NOTE: The clip above begins here.] you said you… but you also—there's so many nuances because in a split second you gotta recognize if you got a quick guy or a strong guy, someone who's faster than you and then you gotta kind of adjust. But the one thing you can always control is containing them with your stick on the ice.

(Cut to Brodie standing at the boards and Hannan a few feet out from him, getting ready to demonstrate their board battle advice.)

SH: So, you heard JD say, most important part is the puck. (he gestures to the puck a few feet in front of Brodie) SH: That's something I'm trying to get, I wanna take the body, I wanna come through the hands with stick on puck. So we'll go through it slow, so I come in here. Here! Press! (Brodie skates slowly along the boards with the puck. Hannan skates in alongside him, sliding his stick under his and preventing it from moving so that he loses control of the puck. He proceeds to pin Brodie to the boards with his body weight, kicking the puck out with his skate for Demers to retrieve it. Brodie, smiling, proceeds to make a continuous strangled sound and wiggle helplessly with his tongue sticking out.) SH: I just connect and I can kick it out with my feet. (Hannan glances over at Brodie, then squishes into him a few more times for emphasis.) SH: You see how I come through the body here like this, I control, here.

(Hannan laughs as he finally releases Brodie. Brodie slides to the ice dramatically, then Demers comes over to gently smack him in the helmet a few more times for good measure. As the camera cuts back to focus on Hannan, Brodie gets back up on his feet.)

SH: And usually, the guys are a little stronger on the puck than what Brodie showed there, but—

BB: (interjecting) I feel like Scott Nichol right now!

(Both of them start giggling. CONTEXT: Nichol is a retired NHL center who played with the Sharks from 2009 to 2011. When he was with the Sharks, he was known for being reliable on faceoffs and making lots of hits. He is also 5'8, relatively short for an NHL player.)

(Cut to them back in position for another demonstration.)

SH: Again, I wanna come stick on puck, and I wanna come through the hands and play the body on Brodie. 'Kay?

(Brodie starts to skate, but Hannan skates into him, pressing him into the boards with the front of his body and pinning his stick to the boards with his own. Demers skates past, plucking the puck out from between them. Brodie struggles in vain to get free.)

BB: Oagh! Oohuhguhghh-Tied up! I'm tied up! Ourghh

(Cut to them back in position for another demonstration, but it's Demers about to show what to do instead of Hannan this time.)

JD: Sometimes, you need a little bit o' finesse and not so much brawn, so when you got a quick guy like Brodie, who—we'll see how quick his tight turns are—

(Brodie is nodding in the background with a huge grin on his face.)

JD: —that can spin off checks, you have to be able to readjust, keep your stick with the puck, contain, until you can get into position to close on 'em. So let Brodie show up.

(Brodie starts to skate with the puck.)

JD: So Brodie's comin' up! Turn—

(Brodie attempts to pivot back to evade Demers, but Demers pivots back with him, uses his stick to lifts Brodie's stick off the puck, then presses his front into Brodie's stick and his leg into Brodie's leg to pin him to the boards as the puck glides ahead for Hannan to pick up.)

BB: Huaugh!

(Cut to closeup of Brodie talking to the camera.)

BB: I'm the crash test dummy here, I can see.

(Brodie skates at the boards with the puck and attempts to turn back to shake off Demers who is a few feet out to his side.)

[NOTE: The clip above ends here.]

(Demers proceeds to get him in the lower back with the Scotty two-hand and Brodie immediately crumples to the ice, resuming his tortured vocalizations as Demers keeps him pinned down with his stick and lightly punches him in the helmet a few times. Hannan picks up the puck and skates away with it.)

(Cut to a shot of the three standing on the ice, similar to how the video started.)

BB: Alright guys, I think we might be done with this one, yeah.

(Hannan taps Brodie on the shins with his stick as he attempts to flee the scene.)

SH: You gotta get the shin pads on there, hey Brodie?

BB: Yea—ohh I forgot 'em! I forgot 'em, augh…

(Demers joins in by giving him a poke to the shins, too, and Hannan gives him another stick tap, this time to the butt.)

SH: What's goin' on there? You put gear on there, bud!

(Brodie skates back to stand between them.)

BB: Uhh, it's intimidating, it's intimidating to see somebody approaching you, so—no, but like that's, that's important stuff, how to win that battle and how to, how to move that puck.

JD: I think Scotty said it perfectly, it's once you close the distance, it's going through the hands. You wanna eliminate the hands, because the hands are what, for an offensive guy, that's what makes the play. So it's always important; a lot of people get into the stick, they'll get into the body, but they won't get through the hands, which kinda locks up the kid—or the guy, or the kid, whoever it is.

SH: And as the better players get, I talk to my kids all the time, when they're up here, here, (he mimes cross-checking Brodie in the shoulders/chest area) SH: the good players will make plays here, here, here, (he puts this stick back down close to the ice and mimes stickhandling a puck) SH: with the stick. You don't control the stick and the puck, guys'll still gonna be able to make plays.

BB: Alright boys, I'm out four to six weeks. See ya later. (Brodie skates away as the other two laugh.)

End of video description.]

[schismusic]

Noctourniquet for Noctourniquet

A while back I reached out to Tumblr user @yourlocalsanitizedoctoling to thank her for her kind words regarding my piece about NIN's The Fragile. In her bio I read that she refers to herself as Noctourniquet, which was actually a bit of a conversation starter for us. Noctourniquet might be my favourite Mars Volta release; not the best – that would be Frances the Mute, of course – but the one that most resonates with my personal sensitivity. So that specific name took me all the way back to when I first listened to the record, sometime around December 2013. I don't exactly ever remember this time of year feeling especially magical or unique to me (and, for what it's worth, I suspect that my sister only really likes Christmas music more so than she does just about everything else about it), but I do remember how relevant this exact climate and weather were for my enjoyment of this record that I'd bought on a whim, as a massive fan of the first three Volta records, almost as if to prove all those professional reviewers wrong. I still maintain that they are wrong, and I still cherish the record to this day – way more so than their most recent outings, anyway, but also way more so than The Bedlam in Goliath, which is a story for another time. So I guess this was a sign to finally say my piece and own it, for real. Dear Tumblr user Noctorniquet, this one goes out for us, specifically.

So if you're familiar with the average Mars Volta record (if you're not, here's a little something) you might be feeling a bit confused right now. As usual, I'm not an inside guy, I bring nothing to the table – no scoop or profound insight or private information concerning the making of this album – but I have been listening to this record for more than ten years at this point and I feel quite strongly about it. For starters: TMV fans almost always make a point of underlining just how groundbreaking, daring, eclectic, et cetera et cetera et cetera the band was/is. And I mean, sure, I would be hardpressed not to agree with that, but part of the reason why I'm inclined to give them credit for this is the existence of Octahedron and, yes, Noctourniquet. The other part is the existence of De-Loused in the Comatorium and Frances the Mute, more or less specifically: Amputechture is good and it tries a number of cool bits here and there but it's, you know, a very codified Mars Volta album for the time it came out at, and The Bedlam in Goliath is -- God, okay, let's take a deep breath and get this out of the way.

See, ideally this'd be a whole different post unto itself, a post that has more to do with the nature of music criticism and music fans than it does with Noctourniquet as an album. Look, it's simple: The Bedlam in Goliath is nowhere near as good as Noctourniquet or, fuck it!, even Octahedron, because it is not a good album by just about any metric. The long and short of it is: you know that meme that's like, this is what [insert band here] sounds like to people who hate them? Yeah, that's the entirety of The Bedlam in Goliath to me. It's overlong, overplayed, overcomplicated, its only direction is off the nearest fucking cliff, and I don't give a shit about any stories about ghosts and wiped hard drives and everything: how this is rated higher than Amputechture (or any of the releases after it) simply escapes me. I will say I'm sorry for the personal injuries sustained by the band, because I am a functioning fucking human being, but I'm sorry y'all: this is a bad album that displays no class at all. Except Ilyena, which is an honest-to-God good song, despite Thomas Pridgen's best attempts to deface it with sulphuric acid at every chance he gets to cram a fucking drum fill in.

Man, that's a load off my chest. DMs are open to death threats, by the way. Now back to an actual interesting record.

So the consensus about Noctourniquet seems to be that it's a record that displays the signs of a lack of internal cohesion, different visions for the project colliding and not merging properly, underbaked songs with uneven structures and glaringly lacking songwriting that manages to feel somewhat placeholder. I will go out on a limb and say this: all of this is true, actually, but this is specifically why the record should be cherished. Like, be fucking for real here: are we surprised that the band we all praise for their experimentation actually went out of their way to experiment with their sound? Worse than that: are we mad that they did, because this experimentation includes raising the synths' levels on the final mix? It's not like they completely abandoned guitars, or the occasional classic-Volta number, as per the song I just linked before this paragraph. There's just a whole bunch of stuff going on here (at least until track 8, but I'm getting ahead of myself). And the idea of future punk itself – it's not exactly new at all, one might argue that Noctourniquet is basically just synthpunk with extra steps, but aren't the extra steps kind of the point here? What truly makes Frances the Mute different from Brain Salad Surgery, Larks' Tongues in Aspic, Lateralus, Fear of a Blank Planet or even Script for a Jester's Tear, if not the extra steps?

One funny thing that I figured was worth including, since this entire post is basically turning into a journal entry. A friend of mine a while back posted an Instagram story with the song Nuclear Seasons. Wrong as I might be, I don't exactly expect The Mars Volta and Charli xcx to have much fanbase overlap, so in case you're not familiar it's one of the very earliest singles that Charli released as a signed artist (for obvious reasons, I'm not getting into the early mixtapes here, thank you for your cooperation). It's a whole bunch of Eighties clichés slapping you in the dick, ostensibly, but she does do one thing in the pre-chorus that just fucked me up hearing it for the first time. You'll hear it when you listen, I'm sure: there's at least two separate instances where Cedric Bixler-Zavala wrote vocal lines with that exact same sense of melody over Noctourniquet – the title track, for instance. This is to no one's detriment, but it does display very clearly just how zeitgeist-y the Mars Volta were being with this particular release. Some might potentially argue that it could be a net negative: after all, it's not like any of their other record felt particularly era-appropriate, if you ignore the smashing success of bands like Porcupine Tree, Muse and …And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead at the exact same time in the exact same circles, which – after typing it and re-reading it black-on-white – sure sounds like a really hard thing to ignore, now doesn't it? I'd still argue TMV is the superior band (Source Tags and Codes notwithstanding, maybe), if only by virtue of them releasing a record like Noctourniquet at what one could argue was their most broken. Not even a year after this dropped, Bosnian Rainbows looked like they were the next thing, then Antemasque for like thirty seconds flat – before everyone realized that one song sorta sucked – and then relative radio silence for a while. We were, essentially, left wondering. At the Drive-In reunited and made a couple more records, then disbanded again, then The Mars Volta reunited, released the same exact record twice and I didn't like it either time. It was a victory lap that clearly displayed the band has learned nothing of what Noctourniquet truly had to offer.

Deantoni Parks has an absolutely inorganic approach to groove and drumming that completely altered the way Volta songs were written. It made them more alien, harder to quantify and yet at the same time tighter, more clinical, laser-focused. The Mars Volta can write a radio song, they've proven it time and time again, which is why they just did not really do it for this one. Even The Malkin Jewel – lead fucking single for this thing, mind you – starts out sounding like it's coming for your carotid with a bread knife, wearing clown shoes. It's this impossible song that makes no fucking sense and sounds outright goofy on multiple occasions, and then it coalesces and has that big ass ending that we should all love so much in an ideal world. What went wrong here? Absolutely fucking nothing. It sounds like that intentionally, and it's that intentionality that I cannot help but respect. On Imago, the band starts off with this delicate emo-ass acoustic guitar arpeggio and then proceeds to absolutely mangle the bridge with shimmering synth arps, and the percussion gets smothered in slapback delay that turns it almost annoying and the track might be one of my highlights, specifically because of this. Even when the band goes medieval on the listener and tries a couple of the old tricks, the results sounds ice-cold and mechanical, and god do I love this fucking record. See next exhibit.

Granted, the record does lose a bit of steam in the second half. In Absentia, yet another banger, unfortunately just sort of inexplicably ends there, just like that, almost as if it was willingly cut by the band around the seven-minute mark so as to not turn it into "your usual Mars Volta thing"; and the record itself ends on Zed and Two Naughts (pretty good track, taken in itself), which basically just cuts the whole thing off with no particular qualms or time for reflection. I will say the track sequencing could be improved a bit, with some cuts here and there: Trinkets Pale of Moon, for instance, could have made a fun B-side, but as a whole ass track on the finished record? Eh. But then, just as you're looking the other way, the band hits you between the eyes with Vedamalady. I really don't know what to say about this anymore.

Does this not prove my point? Why is there so much beauty in what is, ostensibly, considered a "minor release" by just about anyone I've ever talked to, apart from this one stranger on Tumblr? And why is the beauty so apparent in spite (or perhaps because) of the unfinished, brutalist, stark naked nature of a record that actively got Cedric and Omar to argue, so much so that they had to call it quits for a while? No surprises that there was potential here, seeing as Omar immediately recruited a keyboard guy (Nicci Kasper) and this exact same drummer to make a new band, Bosnian Rainbows, that feels like a direct evolution/iteration on his exact sound. It is also a band that I love to death, and we sorta deserved a second album honestly, but that's a story for a different time. Point being: Noctourniquet sounds like a band falling apart, it is ostensibly unfinished, has way too many ideas and it never quite focuses on one or the other, its identity crisis is clear from the first FM bell arp all the way to the sudden full band stop at the end. And yet it holds so much potential to make it burst at the seams, and this potential feels so untapped, raw – alive, ultimately.