#ITS CLEVER IN MY OPINION TOO

[ilynpilled]

i think when it comes to show tywin we just have to accept that he was made into/framed as a very different character tbfh. like the showrunners thought he was lawful neutral or something if i remember right lmfao. he was framed as more competent and likable (part of it is how damn good charles dance is) and the show glosses over a lot of the key attributes and flaws present in him and all that he represents. i think show tywin is basically how tywin sees himself. but thats not tywin.

[raven-dor]

Hi loves!!

I love your gwayne Hightower fics!

Can I have a request of gwayne x Targaryen reader (reader is rhaenyra’s young sis) where they are married for a while now then blood and cheese happened instead of jaeherys, one of their twins got killed 😔 and they’re both devastated

but still reader loves her sister (of course) and knows it’s not her fault

Thank you !! Sorry for any wrong grammars😅

are you satisfied?

In which gwayne hightower and his wife, rhaenyra targaryen’s sister, experience a great tragedy

PAIRING: gwayne hightower x targaryen!reader

WARNINGS: death, fighting, typical HOTD violence, like three swear words, 'betrayal'

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

AN: gwayne and the reader's children's names are Visenya and Velarion, and the reader is the rider of Silverwing

Gwayne always loved the fact that his wife’s violet eyes and bright white hair had transferred to their children. He thought his wife was far more comely than he, and he thanked the gods his children hadn’t received his looks. 

(Y/N made him swear to stop saying such things, that he was extremely handsome.) 

He smiled as his wife played hide and seek with their twins, pretending not to see their obvious hiding spots. She was an amazing mother, he told her as often as he could. His own mother had been cold, choosing court life over raising her children on more than one occasion. He had still loved her dearly, but it seemed, as he grew older, that that love was not returned. 

Over time, Gwayne had come to realize that his distaste for King’s Landing stemmed from his mother’s choices. When he had returned for the tourney celebrating the new heir, Prince Baelon, he found a reason to enjoy its high walls. Princess Y/N was a year younger than her sister, but it seemed as if she was much wiser and more deliberate in her decisions.

Because Y/N had loved King’s Landing, he had pretended to enjoy the place. He couldn’t stand to see the look of disappointment stretch across her beautiful face. 

So when Alicent sent a letter to Gwayne asking him to bring his family to King’s Landing, he couldn’t refuse. But he so wanted to. Y/N sensed his distaste immediately. She knew him too well, he would say.

His wife hadn’t wanted to return to King’s Landing either, her childhood home turned into that of a prison. Bringing their children, she argued, would put their whole family in danger. Gwayne had agreed, but how could he refuse the Dowager Queen? 

Y/N hadn’t supported Ageon’s claim, being very forthcoming with her husband when the topic arose. Gwayne remained stoic, never letting anyone know of his true opinion, not even his dear lady wife. If he had backed Rhaenyra, he reasoned with himself, his family would have been killed, and it wouldn’t have mattered that he was the Queen’s brother. If he told Y/N he supported his nephew, she would surely shun him. Which was almost as horrible as any punishment he could have received. 

Gwayne laughed as his son, Valerion, dashed across the room, hiding behind his father’s legs. The young boy looked up at his father, putting a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell her, Father.” 

Gwayne nodded, looking back to his wife, who was smirking. “Oh where, I wonder, is my little boy?” She looked over at the curtains, ripping it open. “He is such a clever boy, I am sure I will never find him.”

Valerion giggled, and Y/N whipped around, laughing. “What was that?” She looked to her husband. “Did you hear that, my love?” 

Gwayne shook his head, forcing himself to remain stoic. “I believe you are imagining things, my dear.” 

Valerion giggled again. “She’ll never find me.” 

Y/N practically bit her hand. “I keep hearing his voice…” She tiptoed over, jumping behind Gwayne and tickling their son. “I got you!” 

Visenya peeked her head out from under the bed. “Does that mean I win?” 

Gwayne let loose a loud laugh, gripping his stomach. “You are the champion, my dear.” He walked over, grabbing her from her hiding spot and spinning her around. “Bravo.” 

Y/N sighed, hugging Valerion tightly. Their son squirmed, pushing away from his mother. “Mummy please. I’m grown-” Y/N gasped, looking at her son with fake hurt in her eyes. 

“You are too old for embracing your mother now?” She sat him on the floor, pretending to cry. “You are six years old now, I should have known.” 

Valerion glared playfully at his mother. “Don’t cry, Mummy.” 

“I can’t help it.” She giggled. “Soon you’ll be gone and I will never see you again.” 

His eyes widened. “But I don’t want to leave!”

Y/N stopped ‘crying’ and looked down at their son with surprise. “Well, that is good news.” She picked him up, hugging him tightly once more. “I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I tucked you in then?” 

He shook his head. “Can you tell us a story?” 

Visenya nodded eagerly. “Please Mother.” 

Y/N sighed, like she was contemplating if she was going to tell them a story or not. “Well, if you insist…” 

Gwayne smiled, setting Visenya down. “Be good for your mother, you two.” He walked over, kissing Y/N on the cheek. “Don’t stay up too late, darling.” 

The twins looked repulsed, scrunching their noses. Valerion groaned.“Father…” 

He looked down, smiling warmly. “One day, your children will make the same noises of disgust at you and your wife, Valerion, and I will remind you of this day.” 

Valerion looked disgusted. “I will never marry. I will be free with my dragon, and we will fly across the seven kingdoms.” 

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “If only it were that simple, my sweet boy.” She clapped her hands, ushering the twins out of the room. “Now, time for bed.” 

Visenya yelled. “And a story!” 

Y/N nodded, shutting the door behind her. “And a story.” 

The twins' eyes drooped, but Y/N continued the story, knowing that if she stopped, she would be scolded. “And then Rhaenyra and I boarded our dragons, flew to Dragonstone, and retrieved our brother’s egg from our Uncle.” She smirked. “Your grandfathers were furious.” 

Valerion whispered. “Do you miss your sister, Mother?” 

Y/N nodded, her eyes tearing up at the thought. “Everyday my boy.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes, kissing his forehead gently. “Just as you will miss yours one day.” 

Visenya laughed. “We will never be apart. I will make sure of it.” 

Y/N smiled. “Goodnight children.” She stood up, walking over to her daughter and kissing her forehead. “Sleep well.” 

She took one last look at the pair, almost laughing at the fact that they were already asleep. She blew out their candle, shutting the door gently behind her. She had gotten halfway back to her chambers when a child’s scream echoed through the halls. 

Her blood curdled, and she whipped around racing back towards their chambers. Pulling her dagger out of its sheath, she pushed their doors open, whispering. “Childre-” Her eyes widened, and she glared, gripping her dagger tighter. “Who are you?” 

Two men stood in front of her twin’s beds, rat traps over their shoulders. The taller one turned around and Y/n recognized him immediately as one of the City Watchmen. His eyes widened. “Your Highness.” 

She put on a brave face, but her heart was racing. “What are you doing Sergeant?” 

The man ignored her, hissing at his accomplice. “This is the wrong room. He wouldn’t want her chi-” 

The smaller man interrupted, gesturing back to the Princess. “It’s too late. She’s going to tell.” 

Y/N shook her head, whispering so that her children wouldn’t wake up. “I won’t. Just don’t hurt my children, and I swear I won’t.” 

The small man ignored her, lowering his dagger towards Valerion’s neck. The Sergeant hissed. “That’s not who he wanted.” Reaching his arm out, he pulled the ‘rat catcher’ away from the bed. The ‘rat catcher’ jumped, and his knife fell out of his hand, plunging into her son’s neck.

Y/N gasped, a hand covering her mouth. The room was silent, none of them moving. 

The Sergeant looked panicked. “Your Highness-” 

A tear fell, and she looked up at the pair, whispering. “You are going to pay for that.” 

She walked forward, raising her dagger and plunging it into the murderer’s neck before either of them had the chance to defend themselves. She later would say that it served them right, they carelessly murdered her son, and so she simply returned the favor.  

The Sergeant pushed her away, grabbing his dying accomplice and racing towards the tunnels. She screamed, falling to the floor. Visenya stirred, her eyes opening slowly. “Mummy? What-” 

Y/N wiped away her tears, ripping her daughter out of her bed. She shoved Visenya’s face into her neck, whispering soothingly. As soothingly as she could for just witnessing her son’s murder. ”Go back to sleep my love.” 

Visenya’s eyes fluttered. “What about-” 

“Shh, my dear.” Y/N felt her eyes well up. “Shh.” 

Tucking Visenya in on the couch in their shared chambers, Y/N stalked towards their bedroom, her heart beating against her chest. “Gwayne.” She hissed. He stayed asleep. Anger raced through her veins, how could he sleep through this? She shook him harshly, on the verge of yelling. “Wake up.” 

He grumbled, rolling over. “What is-” His eyes widened, throwing the covers off as he examined his wife. “You are drenched in blood.” 

“Gwayne…” She sobbed, falling to the ground as he watched helplessly. “He’s dead.” 

Gwayne felt worried, and sat beside his wife, rubbing circles into her back. “Who is dead, my love?” 

“Valerion.” She wailed, throwing herself into her arms as more tears streamed down her face. “Valerion!” 

Gwayne’s heart dropped. “What?” 

“They-” 

“Who?” He grabbed his wife’s arms, eyes piercing into hers. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Some rat catcher and a-” She sobbed again. “A City Watchman.” He stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her out of their room and back toward their children’s chambers. Y/N fought against her husband's hold, still violently sobbing. “No, Gwayne please do not make me go back.” 

He stopped, realizing that she had truly seen everything. “My love, we have to. We need-” He choked on a sob he hadn’t known was forming. “We need to be strong for a little longer.”

Without waiting for her response, he pushed the twins’ doors open, their son lying lifelessly in his bed. He let go of Y/N’s hand, racing over to Valerion’s side. He gently pulled the knife from his son’s chest, pushing his bright white hair out of his eyes. “My boy.” 

Y/N wailed once more. “Valerion, this isn’t funny, you’ve upset your mother.” His throat felt as if it was closing up. “Valerion, wake up right now.” He felt his son’s throat, finally accepting his death when he felt no pulse. He fell back, staring at the bed. “We need to notify someone.” 

“Who?” Y/N cried. “Alicent? My drunken half brother of a king?” 

“Anyone in the Keep, Y/N.” He stared at their son. “How did this happen?” 

She simply shrugged, climbing up off the floor. “I must leave.” 

His head whipped over, staring at his wife in shock. “You are leaving?” 

“I will be back, I swear to you.” 

“Where are you-” 

“Leave it!” She snapped, a rage in her eyes that Gwayne had never seen. He nodded, watching as she walked out of their children’s room and down the hall.

Dragonstone was quiet, Y/N noticed. Of course it was, night still covered its dark walls. She landed Silverwing on the hill above the castle, stalking toward the entrance. “I demand to see my sister.” 

The guard laughed. “And you are-” 

“Y/N.” Rhaenyra stepped out from the shadows. “What are you doing here?” 

“My son has been murdered.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, another sob breaking out. “He’s dead, Rhaenyra.” 

Rhaenyra ushered her sister inside, out of the watchful eyes of her family and advisors. Rhaenyra closed her chamber doors, and sat her sister down, kneeling in front of her. “What do you mean-” 

“My son has been murdered. That is what I mean.” She glared at the older woman. “Did you-” 

“Seven hells, Y/N. Of course not.” She took Y/N’s hands in hers. “Do you really think that I would order the death of a child, let alone my sweet nephew?” 

“I just-” Y/N sighed. “I had to make sure.” Taking one last look at her dear sister, she stood, nodding. “I will see myself out.” 

Rhaneyra watched as her sister glided across the room. Just as the door opened, she cried out. “I miss you.” 

Y/N smiled. “I miss you too.” She’d almost reached the exit of the castle when she felt eyes following her every step. “Iēdrosa hiding isse se shadows, nyke ūndegon. (Still hiding in the shadows, I see.)” 

He stepped out, his face taking in the sight of his ‘traitorous’ niece. “Iēdrosa married naejot se hightower orvorta, nyke ūndegon. (Still married to the Hightower cunt, I see.)” 

She held her head up high, glaring at her uncle. “I’ll have you know that cunt is a good man. A better man than you will ever be.” Guilt flashed across his face, but she continued. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation that I support the usurper that is my half brother, and if you repeat that mistake again, you will have more than my words attacking you.” She nodded, walking past him. “Goodbye, Daemon.” 

Visenya had been wailing for days. Wailing over the death of her brother, and wailing over the fact that neither of her parents could look at her without tearing up. The couple sat beside each other at dinner, scarcely eating or speaking. Alicent sighed. “It does your daughter no good if you die of hunger.” 

Y/N looked up from her plate, tilting her head, hoping she had just misheard. “What did you just-” 

Gwayne grabbed her hand tightly under the table, signaling to not pick a fight. “Quite right, sister.”

Alicent smiled. “We are very fortunate.” 

Y/N fought against her impulse to pull her dagger out and commit a massacre. “How so?” 

“That they had the children’s rooms confused.” 

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. She must have been hallucinating. “Excuse me?” 

“I only meant it would have been quite catastrophic if the assassins had found Jaehaerys instead of Velarion.”

Y/N smiled, and she could tell it had unnerved Alicent. “Yes, because my son is much less important than the heir to the throne. Thank the gods it was Velarion instead of Jaehaerys.” 

Gwayne stilled, setting his silverware down. Alicent’s cheeks flushed. “I hope I did not upset you.” 

Y/N laughed, so loudly that the whole room stopped talking, staring at the woman drowning in her grief. “Of course not. You began upsetting me twenty years ago.” 

Aegon smiled drunkenly. “Sister-” 

“You are no brother of mine, Aegon. So do not start acting it because of this little spat.” She pushed her chair out, making an announcement. “We will be leaving at first light. This has been, by far, the worst encounter I have ever had with King’s Landing.” 

Gwayne raced after his wife, not even bothering to say goodbye to his family. “Y/N-” 

“I cannot believe you.”

“What?” 

“You just sat there, Gwayne.” She seethed, practically running down the halls. “Our son is dead, and you sat there and let your sister act as if it was a minor loss. An accident.” 

“My love-” 

“Don’t!” She snapped. “I am taking Visenya, and we are going to Dragonstone.” She stopped outside their chambers, whispering so that their guards would not hear. “I do not care where you go, but I do not wish to ever see your face again.” 

He sighed, walking into their room after her. “Y/N-”

“Gwayne, that is the end of our discussion-”

“No it is not!” He yelled. “I am grieving as well. You do not get to pretend I am not.” 

“Then show it!” She yelled back. “You have been silent for days. You do not defend me at dinner, you do not defend me at all. You sit there like you are dead yourself.” She scoffed. “You might as well be.” 

Gwayne was practically glowering. “Do not say things you do not mean, wife.” 

“I will say-” 

“Mummy?” The couple looked down, realizing they had just fought loudly in front of their daughter. Y/N crouched down, opening her arms. 

“Come here, my love.” 

Visenya faltered, and Gwayne watched as Y/N cracked, standing up. She barely spared a glance at Gwayne. “I will be sleeping in my own chambers tonight.” 

He shook his head. “No.”

She scoffed. “I didn’t realize you controlled me, my lord.” 

He widened his eyes, gesturing down to their daughter who was watching with wide watery eyes. “Y/N, do me this one kindness.” 

“Gwayne, I need to be alone.” She stepped back, walking towards her secret exit when his hand wrapped gently around her wrist, pulling her back. His breath hit her neck as he whispered. “Sleep in our bed. I will stand watch, and we will leave at first light for Dragonstone.” She turned around, her eyes wide. He looked determined, and in that moment, Y/N understood that he would do anything to keep them together. Her heart skipped as he bore his soul to hers, his voice heavy.  “I will not have my family thrown into chaos and ruin.” 

Her eyes were teary as she whispered. “Thank you.” 

He nodded. “Go to bed.” He turned back to their daughter, carrying her over to her makeshift bed. Visenya’s sweet voice could be heard whispering to her father. “Did I upset Mummy?” 

“No my dear.” He kissed her head gently. “Your mother is hurting, as am I. Never forget that we love you dearly.” He tucked her back into bed. “Sleep tight, little one.” 

It had been surprisingly easy to escape the Red Keep. Y/N gathered it was because they did not think anyone would want to leave, which made her laugh. Who would want to be held captive in such a place?

Gwayne never understood how Targaryen’s flew dragons like it was as simple as riding a horse. Being this high up horrified him, but his wife and daughter enjoyed it immensely. Visenya giggled as she reached out, grabbing a cloud with her bare hands. “Father, open your eyes!” 

Y/N laughed. “Your father is frightened, dear.” 

Gwayne scoffed. “I am not. I’m simply-” 

“Scared!” Visenya laughed. “I thought knights were supposed to be brave, Father.” 

Gwayne gasped, clutching his heart as he forced his eyes open. “Are you calling me a coward, young lady?” 

Y/N smiled, forgetting for a moment that their family had been torn apart only four days ago. “Hang on.” 

“Hang on?” Gwayne questioned. “Why-” 

Silverwing dove, and Gwayne felt the air leave his lungs, clutching onto his wife’s waist. “Seven Hells!” 

Y/N laughed, her hair flying in the wind. “Enjoy it, my love!” The great dragon landed roughly on the same hill she had visited days before. Helping down Visenya, she smirked as her husband clambered off of her dragon’s back. “Careful, Gwayne.” 

“I am-” His leg caught on the saddle, and he fell backwards, causing his two silver haired beauties to burst into tears. “Do not laugh.” 

“It is quite difficult.” Y/N’s violet eyes glittered in the sun. “Come down, we have much to do.” 

Y/N held Visenya close to her as they approached her sister and her family. Gwayne trailed behind the two, looking around the room skeptically. Rhaenyra sat tall on her throne. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, sister?” 

Y/N bowed deeply. “Your Grace, we come to swear allegiance to you, and ask that you allow us to stay with you on Dragonstone.” 

Daemon laughed. “And why would we-” 

With one look, Rhaneyra shut Daemon. “That is not necessary, Y/N.” She stood up, embracing her sister tightly. The elder sister looked down, waving at the young girl. “Hello, little one.” 

Visenya smiled shyly, clinging to her mother’s form. Y/N laughed, whispering. “Visenya, this is your Aunt Rhaenyra. Say hello.” 

Rhaenyra laughed. “Hello, Visenya. You are the spitting image of your mother.” 

The young girl blushed, smiling. “Thank you.” 

“Mother, what is the meaning of-” A tall, dark-haired young man sauntered in. “Y/N!” He rushed over, hugging her tightly. “How-” 

“I was most tired of the 'hospitality' of King’s Landing.” She smirked. “If one could call it that." She stepped back, taking in her grown nephew. "My, you have grown. Last I saw you, you were half your height.” 

He scoffed, glaring playfully. “Yes, well…” 

Rhaenyra clapped her hands. “Let us show you to your rooms.” She put her arm through her sisters. “You must be exhausted.” 

“One moment.” Daemon’s voice rang through the throne room. “What about her traitorous husband?” 

“Daemon-” 

Y/N glared. “What did I tell you would happen if you said that again?” 

Daemon laughed. “I would like to see you-” 

Gwayne's auburn hair blocked her view of her uncle, standing in between the two. Y/N smiled. Standing in between two angry Targaryens was a recipe for death, and yet there her husband stood, stoic as ever.

“Please.” He turned to the King Consort. “I know that my family has done nothing but hurt yours…” He spared a look to his wife. “But you must understand that my love for your niece has overcome any loyalty I once had to my family.” 

“How can we be sure you will not betray-” 

Gwayne hissed. “They are the reason my son is dead. I will never forgive them.” 

Daemon nodded. “Very well.” 

Gwayne nodded back, turning to his wife. “Let us go rest my love.” He kissed her temple, following after the queen. “I believe we have earned it.”

taglist: @beebeechaos

[astroyongie]

My Opinion On The Moon Signs and Placements 

Note: the venus placements will be next <33 hope you guys like it, also take it lightly its just my opinion on the placements and not necessarily the true

Aries Moon: I often have a hard time reading Aries moons because they have such an intense way of communicating their emotions. they are either all in or all out and there isn't mid terms with them. Aries' moon is fierce, their instinct tingles. Some people see them as selfish people.  

Taurus Moon: they are so much more than what meets the eye. They tend to be pretty rational with what happens around them, yet they can be quite intuitive as well despite not being a water sign. They are the type to hide their emotions so well, but also to run away from them. They are often emotionally stable but their ability to hold grudges is.. scary

Gemini Moon: There’s this stereotype that gemini moods are emotional wrecks because we never know how they are feeling and also because they exhibit huge emotional swings depending on their environment and people they are with. The true is they don't understand what they feel deep down so they are often just as confused  

Cancer Moon: Again they have this stereotype that they are super sensible, emotional and super manipulators. Although in some cases this can be true, cancer moon is also someone that has that protective fire in them, they have such a huge protective instinct. They are super pessimists tho

Leo Moon: They aren’t as egocentric as one can think. Yes, they will put themselves first in certain situations but that’s because people tend to also take their loyalty and their warmth for granted. They are a little dramatic when they are feeling stuff.  

Virgo Moon: Virgo moons often have a sharp instinct, they have a good memory as well and they always try to process their emotions through rationalizing them, which often hurts because they don't allow their emotions to be processed. They fear losing control over what they feel. 

Libra Moon: Their head is a big mess, they never know who to trust, what to feel and how to understand their feelings. often these placement gets co dependent on other people for their emotions because they kind are unable to live by themselves with their own heads 

Scorpio Moon: Of course that they are intense, they feel things deeply and with all its rawness. Their intuition is high, they can read people so well and they do have empathetic feelings toward others. When they are in love, it's so beautiful but the trust issues of this placement is no joke 

Sagittarius Moon: My opinion on them might be a little biased but gosh, they are so intense, in a way that their emotions are so outbrusting. They can be the happiest person and 5 minutes later they are shifting and it's impulsive and reckless and they have no control over what they are feeling. they have short memory too in my opinion. .

Capricorn Moon: Like most earth placements, Capricorn moons are scared to not be in control of what they feel. They are clever, they are intuitive to a certain point but they are way too cautious and don't allow their emotions to be fully processed. Sometimes they like sensitivity or lack understanding toward other people’s feelings because they see it as dramatism. 

Aquarius Moon: Please someone enlighten me about them because I swear I don't understand them. they way of feeling, they way they expose things, they way they remember things. their brain, their emotional output is not conventional and is different from other people,which often makes them misunderstood. but their lack of empathy and their lack of seeing things through other perceptions is also the cause. 

Pisces Moon: Yes, another stereotype that they are overly sensitive and that they are cry babies. but their intuition is huge, their emotional sponge is hard to control.yet they can also be the most cold placements ever. if they don't want to feel, they won’t. their escapism ability is out of this world 

Moon in the 1st House: Usually they are seen as people that are caregivers. They are often leaned on due to their ability to be able to understand others and always find solutions when it comes to solving issues. They have a very soft personality and they are reliable yet people often take advantage of them because they can’t say no. they have that dreamy beauty in them as well  

Moon in the 2nd House: Their whole emotional being depends on how they live their life, on how comfortable they are and how much of the dream life they can live. More often, people with this placement tend to want luxury in their life and they can be an emotional wreck when their values, their possessions or their goals are shattered by life. 

Moon in the 3rd House: these people are super smart, like socially and emotionally smart. They make such good teachers, therapists but also manipulators because they are able to use people’s strengths and weaknesses to their own expenses but also to help others. They overthink a lot though, and they tend to suffer a lot from their own emotional health. 

Moon in the 4th House: They put a lot of importance in what they consider to be their roots, their culture and their family. They are often family oriented, they love kids and kids love them. some of them can even have that superpower of knowing when someone is pregnant! Some also have taken since young age the role of parent or responsibility in their household 

Moon in the 5th House: The creativity that they have is unmatched, the talent that they have for arts, for self expression through their body and their hobbies is amazing. definitely a good placement when one wants to pursue a career in the arts related businesses and professions. These people also have a very funny sense of humor, and they are hopeless romantics. 

Moon in the 6th House: This placement can be tricky because it can make someone super emotional, to struggle a lot with their health in general (both emotional and physical). Yet these people also have a good sense in business and they can easily get the career of their dreams just by the power of manifestation. 

Moon in the 7th House: They are hopeless romantics as well, they live for their love life, they live for romance, for relationships. People with these placements often tend to be unable to stay alone for a long time and not having someone to love is something that causes them inner turmoil and pain. they have such a good instinct tho, and their love truly is pure 

Moon in the 8th House: their emotional intuition is no joke, these people are not only gifted when it comes to the occult and the spiritual world, some can also have the power to predict changes, shifts and even physical death due to their strong and sharp sense of intuition. They are super emotional as well and often tend to suffer from that. They can’t let go of past feelings

Moon in the 9th House: They are so smart, a lot of people with this placement have a photographic memory, like they are able to remember every single detail. They are people who often feel either connected with their religion and practice, or they are connected with their education, their traditions and overall values. they can have such impactful, deep conversions as well due to the way they are passionate about these things. 

Moon in the 10th House: Their whole well being is only based on one thing: their status and their career. Nothing much is important to them other than what they are able to bring into life for themselves. some people might think that they are arrogant or lack emotional maturity, but this placement is actually a placement that demands to be stable in their overall life, in order to be able to be healthy emotionally 

Moon in the 11th House: Their friendships are super important to them, but so is their social reputation, their emotional well being is often tied with how well they are perceived by others. They want to be seen as reliable and cool, for some even popular. They easily make friends but they get attached quickly as well. they have a strong manifestation 

Moon in the 12th House: Similarly to the 6th house, people with this placement can have some struggles with their emotions. yet they can also be so damn intuitive and have gifts when it comes to the spiritual world and the sensing of the spiritual world. Yet these people are also seen as weird by others and because of that they can feel lonely all their life. they self sabotage themselves because of that 

[schoenpepper]

Despite Everything (It's Still You)

Intro: When he looks at you, he sees everything he could have been.

Warnings: bad grammar, awful writing, not proofread, kinda angsty, more platonic im pretty sure cus its not specified if ur lovers, might be ooc idk and idc, everytime i write idia i feel 10 years older because i cringe at my own internet slang

A/N: Done! Last request is finished, hope you like it worm anon. On my end, this is super rushed and it's not like, my fave ever so ehhhh.

Masterlist

Riddle thought he’d found a comrade in you. Out of everyone in Twisted Wonderland, he’d thought you would be the one to understand him.

He sees it in your posture, always straight and never slouching. You’re good with academics, a diligent student. Like Riddle, you’d gone through life with the iron fist of a well-meaning parent, so surely, you understand him, right? You agree with him. You believe that rules are important to be upheld lest society fall into chaos. It’s such a refreshing feeling to find a person who, like him, thinks that structure and stability are core values of a proper community.

But you don’t. You don’t understand. No one does. His consciousness is flickering between ink and reality. He’s slipping into the grasp of the phantom and he feels himself slowly being consumed. He’s being devoured. Right before the overblot, even you had stood against him. Why? Riddle wasn’t wrong, he was never wrong—the rules aren’t wrong. Because if they are, then what did he lose his entire childhood for? So you must be the one at fault. This is your mistake. You just don’t understand. You tell him that the rules and the competence and the structure matter less than people. You try to convince him that there’s a better way of living. Is there?

Riddle doesn’t know why. He’d thought you were a comrade because he saw his own experiences in yours, but he’d never been so wrong. While he was still caught up in the chains of his mother’s words, you’d already broken free from the cage. You help him to reclaim the shards of childish wonder he’d never been allowed to have. You help him learn how to breathe, how to relax. Little by little, you bring him onto your path.

He doesn’t understand you anymore.

Leona doesn’t have any opinions about you. You never really talked to him at first, and he can respect that; you don’t go out of your way for bothersome, meaningless things.

Every time he sees you, you’re sleeping or slacking off. Whatever, it’s not like he can judge you for it. You also have a real competitive streak for spelldrive, and your wit’s not half bad, especially when compared to the muscle heads in his dorm. Clever and snarky, talented and strong. He can respect you. Maybe just barely, and he’ll never admit it, but he sees a part of himself in you. So, a sort-of equal. He’s still better than you though.

The taste of sand lingers on his tongue as it swirls in the air through the storm. There’s a part of himself he can no longer control. It makes him wrap his fingers around Ruggie’s throat and Leona… He doesn’t want this. But he can’t stop. He can still recognize you on the edge of his vision. Weren’t you just like him? At birth, everything good was handed right over to your older sibling, leaving nothing but scraps for you. You found it unfair too, didn’t you? So why are you standing against him? This is his chance to be someone worth more than his birthright. Why…are you not agreeing with him?

Leona tried to stay away from you. But call it his instinct or whatever; he can’t seem to avoid you at all. The second prince of Sunset Savanna is awestruck by your words. You tell him that birth doesn’t determine everything. You tell him that you’d learned from your own past. That you can still make something of yourself without that which was given. You sure are chatty now, but who is he to stop you?

You’re not his equal. You’d long since left him in the dust.

Azul sees you as an opportunity. He likes you, really, because you know how to do business and you find a way to compromise that doesn’t step on either person’s lines.

It’s not difficult for him to find out about your past, and to be honest, he’s greatly delighted to find out about all that you have in common. Did you feel the way he did when he was isolated and bullied? Did you feel his pain? You were an outcast too, weren’t you? But wow, look at you (and him) now! It’s rare he sees someone as diligent as himself, as cunning and as smart. Resourceful and oh so benevolent, you’d fit right into Octavinelle!

He’d steered himself long ago; he would never be weak again. He had long, long since forgotten humiliation and defeat. But he’s here again. This time, defeat was brought by your hands. Azul had thought you were allies. Business partners, at least. Why betray him like this? Don’t you get it? He’s powerful now! Why try to stop him? Why did you succeed? He’s left in the aftermath of heartache and debris. He doesn’t know why he did the things he did, but he’s sure that he was so close to being all-powerful. Perfect. A being so beautiful and flawless and strong… You took that chance away from him.

Azul wants you out of his life—your presence now is only a reminder of everything he could have been, and everything he failed to be. Unlike him, you’ve already moved on. You’ve learned to forgive your tormentors, and most importantly, you’ve learned to forgive yourself. You tell him that it was never his fault, but that revenge was never meant to be the answer.

He finds that he had nothing in common with you, after all.

Jamil is perceptive. Next to the one who’s attracting the attention of the whole room with a bright smile and sunny disposition, he finds a kindred spirit in you.

You seem responsible enough, and like a mirror, he sees you taking care of that person the way he does with Kalim. It’s easy to pierce through your act because he knows how to do it too. Seemingly not too smart, not too dumb, not too strong, not too weak. You’re good at pretending to be average. Like Jamil, you’ve lived a life of servitude. Are you tired of forced humility? Of feeling like your life isn’t worth anything when compared to the one you serve?

He’s tired too. He’s so, so tired. Why was freedom unreachable to Jamil right from the moment he was conceived? Was he unworthy of a life unbound by shackles? You’re looking at him like he’s a stranger. Jamil looks at you like you’re a mirror. A mirror that’s shattered, and damaged, and every piece is covered with ink and regret. You know what he’s been through, so why are you in his way? You should be an accomplice. Do you not yearn to be your own person? The phantom is whispering promises he knows it won’t keep. But nothing is more tempting than just…one day of happiness. Of his own happiness.

Jamil is inevitably drawn to you. You live so brightly; you see your master as a friend. You tell him he doesn’t need to do the same. That the only thing he needs to do is find a way that works for him. And you’re asking about things he hadn’t thought of before. An employment contract? The legal status of slavery in the Scalding Sands? Wait, you’re serving that person out of your own volition in exchange for salary and other related benefits?

In you, he sees a light at the end of the tunnel.

Vil approves of you. Like looking in a mirror almost, he sees beauty and a passionate drive to remain beautiful in every single way.

You’re a person with a consistent goal and a persistent drive to do better and be better; a hard worker with tenacity like that of the Queen herself. You are no potato. You are a diamond that has found a way to shine uniquely, and like him, you are already a master at your chosen profession. And yet, he sees the trophies and the medals are all silver and never gold. It is frustrating, but Vil knows that you as well know what it’s like to always be second best.

He’d worked so hard. He’d tried his very best. Professional music and choreography, styling and costumes. He’d set up a multi-week boot camp for his team members in order to whip them into shape. It’s all swept away by that person. Again. And again. And again and again and again and— No. No more. He will take matters into his own hands. But you stand in front of him with a familiar determination, only this time, you’re determined to stop him. Rook had betrayed him and now, you do too. Is he not worthy of a victory? Not even once? The blot is so, so ugly. But if it means he’ll get to wipe out everything that’s opposed to him, he’ll take that blot and use it to his own advantage. Like the queen who’d disguised herself as an ugly witch in order to take down the princess; everything can be sacrificed for the sake of ultimate beauty. If you’re not with him, you must be against him.

Vil apologizes sincerely for his faults. He knows he was wrong, even if it hurts his pride to admit it. But you accept him so easily, so readily, he can’t believe you’re acting like he’d never even hurt you. You forgive him. You help him accept his losses and continue to strive. Because you’d been in his position before, but you’d grown to be happy and appreciate the wins in life instead.

You are no mirror image of him. You are better.

Idia’s never been this happy before; through his screen is someone who just gets him. You’re good at games, and an introvert too? Score!

It’s not like, ever, that someone who vibes with his genius just comes strolling through his life, so Magicord bears witness to long, late night chats about anything and everything. You’ve got some real fucked up childhood trauma too, big mood tbh. It’s easy to spill his guts out over the internet, because even then, you still don’t really know him. You like the games and animes that he likes, and he’s so glad that for once, there’s a person out there who’s lived through the same villain-arc that he has.

He can’t rebuild the world if so many noobs are trying to stop him. Why? What’s so wrong with wishing for a world that can fit him and Ortho right in? Why is that too much for him to ask for? Why are you, the person he thought was his cool moots, acting up too? Don’t you like Ortho? Bro…no…you’re not actually doing a protagonist monologue rn, are you? Seriously? You think you can defeat him and his phantom through the power of friendship? Lolz, you’re so lame. If the world was a fairytale, he wouldn’t have been born with this dumb curse. If the world was a fairytale, he would never have been trapped in STYX with no way out. If the world was a fairytale, Ortho would still be alive. But it’s not. So he’ll remake it to be the story he’d always dreamt it to be.

Idia thinks you’re 110% cringe, like actually barf-inducing. But you did kinda save him or whatevs, so he can put up with you. Like, begrudgingly yk. You’re just such a weirdo. He really thought you were just like him, but no. You’ve had therapy. That’s like, actually wild. You try to counsel him too, talking about feelings and whatnot, and how to move past grief so that it no longer consumes you from the inside out.

So it turns out you didn’t have a villain arc like Idia did. You’re the main hero.

Malleus finds you absolutely delightful. To see another who can speak to him without fear or nervousness is a marvelous thing that he cherishes.

You are no fae or long-lived species, but he finds you fascinating. You are intelligent and wise beyond your years. You are powerful in your own right. You are familiar, in every sense of the word. Even your experiences seem to be shared. You’d been orphaned too, and experienced loss and grieved. You’d mourned for far too many loved ones who have left before you. Do you see the present as he does? Do you embrace the past as he does?

The world is a sad, sad place. He would like to change it. Into one with happy ever afters, into one where there is no hunger and no poverty. There will be no suffering. In his hands, he will mold the world into one that is kinder to its people. There will be no death and separation. He’s had far too many of those, enough to last his long lifetime. He’s not wrong. So why…why do you stand against him, weapon pointed towards him? The only thing he wishes for is permanence. Do you not see the vision? There is so much sadness in the world, why do you choose to wake from your beautiful slumber and face it head on? No matter. He will help you, even if you deny him.

Malleus is more than happy to take your hand when it is outstretched towards himself. You teach him so many things he hadn’t realized before, like how to cherish the present and treasure each memory more than attempting to find a solution to make them everlasting. He had believed wholly that he was right; that the answer to death was a long period of dreams in which everyone lives in a happy ending. He had believed you to be similar to himself—he is wrong about many, many things.

You’ve always looked to a brighter future than he could even imagine.

[quasi-normalcy]

Every "Nu Trek" (2017- ) Series Ranked from Worst to Best:

Very Short Treks (2023): There's really no words for just how terrible this series is. I mean, I know that it only barely counts because it's explicitly not canon and has a total combined run time of about 15 minutes, but *my god* is it bad! Only one of its episodes is remotely funny, and even that manages to feel like it's driven its main joke into the ground by the end of its 2-minute runtime. The only thing that I can say for it is that is that it gives me an easy, uncontroversial choice for worst Star Trek series, not only of the last 7 years, but of all time.

Picard (2020-2023): Listen; I know that this series is unpopular with the Tumblr Trek fandom, but it actually breaks my heart to have to put it so low on the list. It has, in my own opinion, the best dramatic acting of any Trek series and among the best directing, and almost every individual scene, in isolation, is compellingly watchable. More than that, it has fascinating worldbuilding choices, you can really *see* the passion of the writers for what they're creating (at least in the first and third seasons), and Agnes in particular is among my favourite characters in anything ever. It's got a lot of great moments, too! Picard and Seven bonding over shared Borg trauma; Soji uncovering the truth of her identity; Jurati hacking the Borg Queen's brain; Picard's final farewell to Q; Shaw's Wolf 359 monologue; Geordi's reunion with Data...I could go on. And yet, it just feels like so much *less* than the sum of its parts! Incredible ideas are introduced and then just shrugged off to pursue much more boring ones. Story arcs feel pointless if not actively offensive. Absolutely baffling writing choices are made throughout, with no indication as to why. And the nostalgia baiting , particularly in the final season, becomes so intense that it just chokes the plot to death. One comes away haunted by the feeling that this series should be so much better than it is.

Discovery (2017-2024): Really, this is two separate series: a twisty, grimdark, sci-fi war drama and a gentle queer coffeeshop AU about scientists who talk about their feelings. Both of them have their moments, but they each fall down in the same way: a focus on epic, high-stakes mystery box storytelling that undermines one's ability to really get invested in the characters, or even know who they are when they aren't off saving the universe. Without that, while I liked many of the characters and loved seeing them science the shit out of things using teamwork and the power of math, it's kind of difficult to get invested in this series one way or another. In spite of its absolutely gorgeous visuals, it comes off feeling weirdly...flat.

Short Treks (2018-2020): Not a lot to talk about here; just kind of an anthology series of short films adjacent to Discovery, Picard, and Strange New Worlds. Mostly they're varying shades of mediocre, but a few of them are as brilliant as any episode of Star Trek ever made, so the series gets to be relatively high on the list.

Strange New Worlds (2022- ): This is the first entry on this list that, in my opinion, belongs on the top shelf with some of the best of the older series. And it achieves it basically by adopting the same formula as the original series or the next generation--socially conscious planet-of-the-week adventures with enough wit, cleverness and joie-de-vivre to keep it interesting. I remember in 2017, there was plenty of discussion of how it's possible to update Star Trek's formula for prestige television; how funny that the solution turned out to be "don't change it at all, just give it modern special effects and actual character arcs." That said, the series is a bit *too* beholden to the original, with focus primarily on a bunch of characters who aren't allowed to grow or change too much because we already know how they'll turn out. It would be even better if it were about a new ship and a new crew full of nobodies who we can come to love. Which brings us to...

Lower Decks (2020-2024): Above, I said that Picard felt like it should have been so much better than it was. Lower Decks, frankly, should have been so much worse. How is an adult animated sitcom with Rick and Morty style animation and constant memberberries this freaking good!?! Every episode is a master class in efficient storytelling, with 22 minute runtimes often feeling like they contain as much story and character work as episodes twice as long. And the characters are incredible--like TOS and TNG, they feel almost archetypal, and even though you've never seen them before, they slide so seamlessly into the Star Trek universe that it's hard to believe that they weren't just *always* there; that there was ever a time when you could imagine the Star Trek universe without just intrinsically knowing that Tendi and Shaxs and Mariner were off somewhere in the background. It's greatest success though, the reason why it's comedy works when it really shouldn't, is that it's only *slightly* sillier than the serious series. What we end up with a fantastic series with an ethos that is pure Star Trek, and in fact, if I had written this list a month ago, it would certainly be in the #1 spot. However...

Prodigy (2021-2024?): The first season of Prodigy is...charming. It's got some fun characters, some spectacular visuals, some interesting premises. And if the plots tend to be a little too simplistic to be engaging to an adult, hey, it's a kids' show. It's good. Solid. Above average. And if I had only the first season to go on, it would probably be in third position on this list. But then, a few weeks ago, it went ahead and dropped the best season of Star Trek in a quarter-century, and I really...I just cannot recommend this series highly enough. The sheer, ambitious scope of the narrative; the arcs it puts its character through; the cleverness of the writing; the fricking GORGEOUSNESS of it! And it does all this while redeeming deeply unpopular characters and plot points from other series, in a way that never feels forced or pandering. Not only is it the best Star Trek series of the 21st century, it's one of the best children's animated series since AtLA. Go. Go! Watch it! Watch it now!

[jeongintwenty3]

warmth

pairing: bangchan x gn!reader

genre: slight angst, fluff

warnings: reader calls chris stupid (lovingly)

summary: bangchan, being the clingy boyfriend he is, needs your warmth in order for him to sleep; he’ll do anything, to get that.

author’s note: hiii!! i just had to pour my thoughts into a fic and it just hit me how chan’s probably the type of boyfriend that has to hug you to sleep. pardon my mispellings and improper grammar, happy reading loves <3

————————————————————————

arguements are normal happenings in any relationship. whether it be different opinions or a typical debate, these type of mishaps are expected to occur. and that’s exactly what happened tonight.

the clock struck 12, indicating it’s been two hours since their fallout. it may’ve been the lack of sleep or the stress, the two of you got into a heated arguement and spewed things that quite hurt each other. chris lied beside you, with his front facing your back. knowing how stubborn the both of you were when things like this happened, both agreed to talk it out in the morning.

you left the living room first, heading straight to the bathroom to do your night routine and dove head first into your bed, sleep quickly finding you.

chris on the other hand, had a hard time sleeping due to the lack of body warmth from his one and only. yes, he loved sleeping without his shirt on, but he hated the thought of the two of you not cuddling into dreamland.

the lightbulb in his head turned on, aiming for the air conditioner’s remote. decreasing the temperature so it’ll be extremely uncomfortable for one to sleep without someone hugging them, he smiled slightly at the idea. was it mean? he doesn’t really care, he just wants to hug his beloved to sleep.

stirring awake from the cold, you realized how chilly the room was. your thick pajamas did nothing to help you get back to sleep, so in your half-awake state, you subconciously reached out for you boyfriend who’s actually freezing; that’s what he gets for not putting a shirt on even after lowering the temperature drastically.

something inside snapped you conscious, halting your actions. remembering the arguement the both of you had earlier, you pulled away; opting to stand up and find the remote control.

the c in chris stands for clever, he hid the remote prior to your abrupt awakening.

“gimme the remote,” you said softly while putting out your hand, not fully out of your dozed state.

shaking his head playfully, he made grabby hands at you. if you weren’t pissed at him, you’d give in already; but the pride in you didn’t let you do so.

“’m sleeping outside then,” you replied, unamused with his behavior.

quick to stop your actions, he gripped your wrist and literally dragged you into bed. ignoring your tantrum, he tucked the duvet up to both of your chins. caressing your head and enjoying the warmth you’re giving him, he noticed your movements; wanting him to let go.

“i’m sorry baby, i really am,” the man hugging you whispered, “we’ll talk in the morning, for now, let’s stay like this.”

looking into his eyes with your sleepy state, you knew he was genuine. he was always sincere regarding apologies.

having little to zero energy left to fight back, you let out an incoherent okay and almost instantly, you nuzzled up againt his chest, breathing him in. smiling in response, chris placed his head right on top of yours; not forgetting to kiss your temple. letting the warmth of his hands and the duvet engulf you; drowziness swallowing you once again.

feeling both of his arms tightening its grip on you, you managed to let out, “if you wanted to hug me, just say so. no need to lower the temperature into ice age, stupid—”

cutting off your ramble with a peck that took you aback, he giggled seeing your furrowed brows and slightly puckered lips.

“sleep, you need it baby,” the man you loved said, wanting you to get the most of tonight’s rest. “good night, i love you,” he whispered while stroking your hair gently.

“mmm, i love you too, stupid.”

[veritas-scribblings]

buzz - @bartylusmicrofic - words: 977 [explicit / NSFW]

[inspired by @lexithwrites's post, which appeared in my feed: terribly sorry for doing this again, I will stop!]

Regulus has always been a little bit sceptical about it all. Insanity runs in his family, you see, and he has been somewhat hesitant to tempt fate. Some days, Regulus thinks that perhaps that’s where everything went wrong with his mother and Sirius, all the high-running emotions between them, the screaming, the manipulations and emotional blackmail. All the gaslighting. There’s definitely something diagnosable going on, in his not-so-professional opinion. Some days, Regulus thinks that insanity is closer to him than he would like. After the whole business with Cousin Bellatrix and that cult she’d run off to join…well, ‘fate’ seems to have a choke hold on the family.

So, when Regulus finds himself laying on the floor with Barty, drinking cider and smoking a spliff, he would like to think that his first thought was something along the lines of, ‘I should probably exercise some caution here.’

Unfortunately, though, that had not been his first thought.

His first thought had been, ‘It’s not so bad as a joint, right? Maybe the hypothetical schizophrenia won’t be so bad either.’

His second thought had been, ‘Why was I worried to begin with? What are even problems? No problems exist in my world.’

His third thought had led him to cheese, which had led him to seeking out the bag of shredded mozzarella he knows is kept in Barty’s fridge. Which had led Barty to laughing hysterically at him, and then joining Regulus in eating a good half of the bag. Which had led to even more hysterical laughing, because there they were cuddled up on the floor sharing a 500gm bag of shredded cheese and it had seemed like the funniest situation they’d ever been in. 

Honestly, Regulus isn’t too sure what had happened in the middle or who had moved first. It may have been Barty, because Barty is always handsy when he’s high (or, at least, more handsy than when he’s not high, because Barty tends to always be a bit handsy). It may have been Regulus, because about 10km back Regulus had decided that cuddles are exactly what he is all about.

Now, Regulus has discovered several things. He has discovered that Barty tastes like smoke and cider and shredded cheese. That Barty bites when he kisses. That Barty is a wicked, clever kisser and Regulus regrets not kissing him sooner. That Barty seems to enjoy cradling the back of Regulus’s neck and running his hands through Regulus’s hair. That running his tongue over Barty’s tongue piercing is a fascinating experience, though he hasn’t quite worked out what to actually do with the little ball of metal just yet. 

And now, Regulus is laying on the floor of Barty’s small one-bedroom apartment and some time ago his trousers and pants left his person, and he’s wrapped around Barty, one leg hooked around him, and he’s riding Barty’s thigh like his life absolutely depends on it. Like his body has a mind of its own. 

And it feels good. Barty feels good. Barty feels incredible. Regulus is high, and not on spliff, because there are fireworks shooting through his entire body, exploding at every rock of his hips, and his brain has clearly evacuated due to the danger. 

Distantly, he is aware that there are two thought trains travelling through his brain right now. The first thought train is headed somewhere within the vicinity of: Barty is family and we don’t do this with family and what if this fucks with everything between us, I can’t lose my best friend. The second thought train, the one Regulus has long boarded, is headed towards: why the fuck didn’t we do this sooner, this is the best idea ever, why have we wasted all these years not doing this. 

Regulus gasps, shivers when Barty’s slides his hands behind him and guides Regulus’s hips to grind down on his thigh harder. Regulus is dizzy. Everything about his world feels louder. Every brush of Barty’s skin against his is electric, euphoric, and he isn’t sure whether it’s from the spliff or from the sheer bliss washing through him in waves. 

Distantly, Regulus is aware that he’s moaning, whimpering, that his head is tipped back, that Barty is sucking and biting at his neck between saying something that Regulus can’t make out because it sounds like a huge blur of words strung together.

‘Fuck,’ Regulus gasps, ‘fuck, fuck,’ and then louder, startled as Barty pulls away to sit back on his haunches, ‘Fuck, what! What the fuck!’

Barty grins, laughing a little like he has been struck with the most amazing idea. He runs his hands over Regulus’s bare legs, trails the tips of his fingers across the wetness smeared along the insides of his thighs. His eyes are sparkling, though a little bit dazed. 

And then he goes down between Regulus’s legs; Regulus’s head spins and his breath hitches. He knows it’s coming, but he can’t grasp a single coherent thought well enough to not completely lose himself when it finally does come.

The first slide of Barty’s tongue through his wetness has Regulus weak and swearing loudly and filthily. He’s already so sensitive there and Barty doesn’t take things slowly (he never does). He runs his tongue directly over Regulus’s swollen arousal before taking him into his mouth. And he sucks mercilessly, rubbing his tongue back and forth, driving Regulus higher and higher and higher.

Barty pulls back suddenly, just a little, and Regulus whimpers at the loss of his touch, hands flying down to try and grab Barty's head to bring him back into place.

‘I knew it,’ Barty says. His grin is wolfish. He laughs, and Regulus can feel his breath in hot puffs between his legs. ‘I always knew you’d taste amazing.’

And then Barty goes back down, slides his tongue to tease between Regulus’s folds, takes Regulus into his mouth again. Regulus slams his hand down onto the carpet and swears, bucking into his mouth.

And he comes undone.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hello! I have seen this question debated many times and I wanted to know your take on it cause I find your theories very compelling. Do you think harry should've been in Slytherin? Does he have what it "takes" to be a Slytherin? Is it because of voldemort's soul in him that lead the sorting hat to even suggest he could be in Slytherin? I know this is not one question but I would like to know your opinion on this topic in general!

First of all, thank you for the kind words! 😊

As for the questions, well, you've asked more than one question, but this ask kinda gives me a good reason to talk about how Harry isn't some golden Gryffindor. He actually has some anger issues and he most definitely has what it "takes" for Slytherin.

I'll start with the last question and then go backward, actually.

Did the hat consider Slytherin house just because of the Horcrux?

I don't think so.

I mean, Harry is incredibly clever, magically powerful, and has a cunning streak a mile wide all on his own. I'd actually go as far as to say he's more cunning, ruthless, and resourceful than many of the Slytherins we see in the books. So his own traits definitely are in line with a Slytherin sorting, Horcrux or no Horcrux.

We can try and discern if the Horcrux has an effect on Harry's personality then, and if its influence is seen like that. I'd say that I don't think so either.

Tom and Harry, while they have their similarities, are very different people. They both have a bad temper (although they react to anger differently), but Harry has low self-esteem whereas Tom thinks he is the best (while still hating himself). They're both stubborn, but Tom is much more obsessive than Harry in pursuit of his goals. Harry cares for justice and isn't willing to hurt innocents, Tom doesn't really care about any of that he cares for efficiency. If the Horcrux was influencing Harry's personality, I'd expect to see more similarities between them that go deeper than that.

So, I don't think the hat only offered Slytherin because of the Horcrux. Harry is a Slytherin in his own right.

Does Harry have what it "takes" for Slytherin?

So, I honestly got really excited at the sight of this sentence. See I love Harry, that's no secret. But one of the things I love about him is that he isn't the perfect noble hero. He can be angry, and cruel and ruthless. But he has a sense of justice, he wouldn't wish harm on someone innocent, but someone who did harm to him, or was mean to him or someone he cares for... then Harry can be terrifying when he wants to be.

So, now I'm going to go through some (I have so many more examples of this, and the examples here are mostly books 1-5 since that's what I had on hand) of my collection of quotes showing Harry Potter's vindictiveness and anger.

Harry's response to "have a good summer" at the end of his first year:

“Oh, I will,” said Harry, and they were surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. “They don’t know we’re not allowed to use magic at home. I’m going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer.…

(PS, page 221)

This is Harry's (very justified) vindictiveness we see towards the Dursleys many times in the books. He uses the idea of magic to scare them and is gleeful at the thought of Dudley's fear. Harry is very much chill with vengeance.

“…He likes to keep in touch with me, though . . . keep up with my news . . . check if I’m happy. . . .” And, grinning broadly at the look of horror on Uncle Vernon’s face, Harry set off toward the station exit, Hedwig rattling along in front of him, for what looked like a much better summer than the last.

(PoA, page 435)

Same as above, just Sirius Black as the threat instead of magic.

Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn’t want it to look as though he was too worried.

(GoF, page 25)

Harry can and does lie and conceal information, even from people he trusts (like Sirius) if he thinks it'll be better not to tell them something. Whether that is for his own image or for what they would think.

“Potter! Weasley! What are you doing?” It was Professor McGonagall, and her mouth was the thinnest of thin lines. “We were — we were —” Ron stammered. “We were going to — to go and see —” “Hermione,” said Harry. Ron and Professor McGonagall both looked at him. “We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry went on hurriedly, treading on Ron’s foot, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready and, er, not to worry —” Professor McGonagall was still staring at him, and for a moment, Harry thought she was going to explode, but when she spoke, it was in a strangely croaky voice. “Of course,” she said, and Harry, amazed, saw a tear glistening in her beady eye.

(CoS, page 259)

And he clearly can lie well, even at 12.

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules. He wasn’t following Dudley’s diet, and he wasn’t going to let Uncle Vernon stop him from going to the Quidditch World Cup, not if he could help it. Harry took a deep, steadying breath and then said, “Okay, I can’t see the World Cup. Can I go now, then? Only I’ve got a letter to Sirius I want to finish. You know — my godfather.” He had done it. He had said the magic words. Now he watched the purple recede blotchily from Uncle Vernon’s face, making it look like badly mixed black currant ice cream.

...

He stopped there to enjoy the effect of these words. He could almost see the cogs working under Uncle Vernon’s thick, dark, neatly parted hair. If he tried to stop Harry writing to Sirius, Sirius would think Harry was being mistreated. If he told Harry he couldn’t go to the Quidditch World Cup, Harry would write and tell Sirius, who would know Harry was being mistreated. There was only one thing for Uncle Vernon to do. Harry could see the conclusion forming in his uncle’s mind as though the great mustached face were transparent. Harry tried not to smile, to keep his own face as blank as possible. And then — “Well, all right then. You can go to this ruddy . . . this stupid . . . this World Cup thing.

(GoF, page 33)

Again, vindictiveness and manipulation of Vernon through fear. Not only that, but Harry can keep his calm and keep his face blank even at 14 for the sake of getting something he wants.

“Get stuffed, Malfoy,” said Harry. “C’mon, Ron. . . .” “Oh yeah, you were staying with them this summer, weren’t you, Potter?” sneered Malfoy. “So tell me, is his mother really that porky, or is it just the picture?” “You know your mother, Malfoy?” said Harry — both he and Hermione had grabbed the back of Ron’s robes to stop him from launching himself at Malfoy — “that expression she’s got, like she’s got dung under her nose? Has she always looked like that, or was it just because you were with her?” Malfoy’s pale face went slightly pink. “Don’t you dare insult my mother, Potter.” “Keep your fat mouth shut, then,” said Harry, turning away.

(GoF, page 204)

Harry has a bark (all of the above quotes are Harry having a bark). He can and does shoot back as good as he gets.

Harry isn't all bark though, he's got a bit. Harry's anger is palpable and so very real and I love seeing it:

just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters. “COME BACK IN HERE!” he bellowed. “COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!” But a reckless rage had come over Harry. He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon. “She deserved it,” Harry said, breathing very fast. “She deserved what she got. You keep away from me.”  He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door. “I’m going,” Harry said. “I’ve had enough.”

(PoA, page 30)

Again, Harry has his vindictive strike. (Obviously, Marge had it coming, but that's also what Harry is thinking).

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(PoA, page 339)

“You killed my parents,” said Harry, his voice shaking slightly, but his wand hand quite steady.

(PoA, page 341)

Harry, at 13, was fully willing to kill who he believed led to his parents' deaths. And more:

So what if he had to kill the cat too? It was in league with Black. . . . If it was prepared to die, trying to protect Black, that wasn’t Harry’s business. . . .

(PoA, page 342)

He's willing to kill Hermione's cat if it stands in his way.

Harry stood there, feeling suddenly empty. He hadn’t done it. His nerve had failed him. Black was going to be handed back to the dementors.

(PoA, page 343)

Harry Potter, at 13, laments that he didn't have the nerve to kill Sirius himself. He thinks he should've killed himself. He sees it as a failure that justice would be served by someone other than him.

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GoF, page 300)

Harry felt oddly separate from everyone around him, whether they were wishing him good luck or hissing “We’ll have a box of tissues ready, Potter ” as he passed. It was a state of nervousness so advanced that he wondered whether he mightn’t just lose his head when they tried to lead him out to his dragon, and start trying to curse everyone in sight.

(GoF, page 347)

The above quotes are both situations Harry was willing and wishing to curse people. Even Crucio Snape. He's not as noble and righteous and golden as many fans and characters in the books make him out to be...

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OotP, page 11)

And sometimes, Harry wishes for an excuse to fight. An excuse to take his anger out on someone. (He has a lot of anger in him)

Smirking all over his pointed face, Draco Malfoy leaned across Harry and seized the largest bowtruckle. “Maybe,” said Malfoy in an undertone, so that only Harry could hear him, “the stupid great oaf’s got himself badly injured.” “Maybe you will if you don’t shut up,” said Harry out of the side of his mouth.

(OotP, page 260)

He's threatening and witty.

“Oh no,” said Hermione, quaking so badly that her knees gave way. “Oh, that was horrible. And he [Gwamp] might kill them [the centaurs] all. . . .” “I’m not that fussed, to be honest,” said Harry bitterly.

(OotP, page 759)

And when it comes to people he doesn't consider innocent, or ones he doesn't care for, even if they never harmed him, Harry is still vindictive. The centaurs mistreated Firenze and Hagrid, so Harry doesn't really care if Gwamp kills them all.

That being said, he is more concerned about Sirius in the above scene.

And he can and does cast unforgivables easily by the later books:

Hatred rose in Harry such as he had never known before. He flung himself out from behind the fountain and bellowed “Crucio!” Bellatrix screamed. The spell had knocked her off her feet, but she did not writhe and shriek with pain as Neville had — she was already on her feet again, breathless, no longer laughing. Harry dodged behind the golden fountain again — her counterspell hit the head of the handsome wizard, which was blown off and landed twenty feet away, gouging long scratches into the wooden floor.

(OotP, page 809)

Harry raised the hawthorn wand beneath the cloak, pointed it at the old goblin, and whispered, for the first time in his life, “Imperio!” A curious sensation shot down Harry’s arm, a feeling of tingling, warmth that seemed to flow from his mind, down the sinews and veins connecting him to the wand and the curse it had just cast. The goblin took Bellatrix’s wand, examined it closely, and then said, “Ah, you have had a new wand made, Madam Lestrange!”

(DH, pages 152-453)

As Amycus spun around, Harry shouted, “Crucio!” The Death Eater was lifted off his feet. He writhed through the air like a drowning man, thrashing and howling in pain, and then, with a crunch and a shattering of glass, he smashed into the front of a bookcase and crumpled, insensible, to the floor. “I see what Bellatrix meant,” said Harry, the blood thundering through his brain, “you need to really mean it.”

(DH, page 502)

So, I think Harry definitely has what it takes. He's clever, he can be ruthless, and he's capable of lying and hiding secrets when he feels it's the best option. He can hide his emotions when he really needs to, even if he rarely does. Actually, only in book 6, Harry starts sharing everything with Ron and Hermione on Dumbledore’s advice. Up to that point, he kept quite a bit to himself. And when someone wrongs him, he can and often will swing back.

And last but not least, should he have been in Slytherin?

So, this is an interesting question, because "should" can have two meanings.

1. Should've for the story — as in what is best for the narrative.

2. Should've for the character — in universe, which house the sorting hat should've picked.

So, for the first one, my answer is no. Gryffindor was the right choice for Harry for the narrative of the books as they are. Gryffindor is essentially the opposite of Slytherin and represents a choice more than just the traits and values the house represents. It represents Harry's choice even though he could've been a Slytherin he chose Gryffindor. And it's a constant choice with every heroic act. (personally, I'm not the biggest fan of equating school houses with morality, but it's effective in creating a clear narrative)

And while not all Slytherins are evil and not all Gryffindors are good, a Slytherin Harry Potter would've resulted in a very different story than what we have. So, for the story we ended up getting to happen the way it did, yes, Harry needed to be a Gryffindor.

For the second, maybe. Personally, I believe people (even if they aren't hatstalls) have more than one house they can fit into. Harry is both a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, and neither of them is more wrong or right for him as a person. I think deciding which one of them is best for him is up to a coin flip (and when in his life the question is asked).

He can be ruthless and cunning like a Slytherin. Selfless and courageous like a Gryffindor. He values justice like a Gryffindor. But he also has the selective loyalty of Slytherin to their own.

Point is, there isn't really a "should", because both suit him and he would’ve done well in both. Do I think Slytherin Harry is an incredibly fun concept to consider? Yes. Did I read way too many fics with this premise and would read more? Yes. Do I think he might've fit into Slytherin better than Gryffindor? Well, not necessarily.

Harry is much quieter than most in Gryffindor, but I think the constant scheming and image-keeping in Slytherin would be exhausting to him. He just doesn't care about all the gossip and politicalizing (something that occasionally leaves him out of the loop also in Gryffindor). So, again, both suit him about equally. The difference is that we get a very different story depending on his house.

[soupthatistohot]

A rant about why BSD is hard to enjoy right now (in my opinion)

Originally posted this on twitter but I think tumblr folks will sympathize, as well. So, here goes!

The stakes are simultaneously so ridiculously high and also nonexistent. I can't shake the feeling that everything is going to return to normal after this arc is over (everyone we care about will be alive, the world will have been saved), so why should I care about anything that's happening?

To that point -- no one (I care about) stays dead!! So what if Kunikida "died" in the chapter today? I'm sure he'll be back. Dazai also didn't die in Meursault, neither did Fyodor (who actually literally CAN'T die!!). Akutagawa is now alive and well, too! As much as I hate excessive MCD (like in JJK), you need to actually kill off characters sometimes if you're gonna threaten it so often, because then every death lacks emotional impact. I've been, like, numbed to it atp.

There are so many characters I do not know enough about to care about. Who even are the hunting dogs? Bram? Sigma? Asagiri hasn't put as much time and care into characterizing them as the main cast, so when things happen to them I kinda don't give a shit long-term. They were introduced in the middle of a convoluted plot that has taken such precedence over the characters who are supposed to be driving the story.

BSD originated as a character-driven story, and that's what drew myself and so many others to it in the first place. It was bizarre in a charming sort of way. It was about the characters growing and developing as people as much/more as it was about the external conflicts going on. It almost feels like Asagiri has been trying to be too clever about this that he's lost the core of BSD: it's heart.

Similarly, there's a reason this is such a ship-heavy fandom, we live for the character dynamics! But our beloveds have been scattered to the winds for literal years in our time that we've lost most of that interaction we love so much. Give us back our found family dynamics!!

Kind of back to the point about the convoluted plot -- it eels like the characters' intelligence has outgrown us and Asagiri, to the point of seeming impossibly ridiculous. Like what do you mean Chuuya was faking it the whole time and then stopped a bullet from entering dazai's skull and got away from it because of the security camera angle?? what do you mean Fyodor dying by a vampire's hand actually means that he subsumes bram and then he sets off a tripolar singularity to create god and this was his plan all along????

Obviously I don't speak for the whole fandom and these are just my opinions. I'm not saying you have to agree with me or even that BSD is horrible. I just feel like it's kinda lost its way the past few years and I miss the animanga I fell in love with :(

[supermaks]

Austria obvi been a doozy to process but 1 part of the conversation thats always interesting to me is how people are taking Max and Lando's battle as a textbook example of 'dirty' racing and comparing it wid other battles that are seen as 'clean'. Heres the thing tho, the choices both those drivers made in those laps dont have 'clean' alternatives that wud have benefited them in that moment. It was an inevitable type of confrontation. At least for the most part.

Clean/dirty racing in this generation of very wide cars literally just a matter of is there a significant enough delta to give one of the cars lap advantage or not. If there is, u get something like George and Landos lil dance in Spain. One of the cars has better tire wear, is faster, so its just a matter of waiting for the right time to make a move and build a gap. Its clean because its a waiting game, its not a battle at all. But if the cars are more evenly matched, and more importantly, if the driver defending/attacking is actually willing to defend/attack, thats when it becomes too close for comfort and as racing drivers what ur basically saying is, I am willing to take that risk because I need to gain ((or I need to keep)) advantage.

Something thats also been interesting is how people have perceived each drivers role in this particular 'dirty' battle.

I been reading and watching a lot of analysis of those laps and one of the things that jumps out immediately is that theres this assumption that Max had to get out of the way. He just had to. The fact that he didnt is what made the battle 'dirty' and the onus of 'cleaning' it was on him. When u press that narrative, and u ask the simple question of why wud a racing driver even consider allowing another one to pass him, the argument turns into endangerment. It was dangerous that Max didn't let Lando pass. The tactics Max employed to defend his line were dangerous. Follow up question, why does it matter if they're dangerous when ur literally racing cars 200 miles per hour. Oh, because what Max did specifically is not allowed'. And what is that, specifically. Then the 3 ghosts of under braking past come into ur house to offer Max a chance of redemption. And u think, why are they here. Wheres the telemetry, the wheel input, the driver cam, the stewarding precedence, the actual rule, that allows some hypothetical idea of intentional harm to even enter this conversation. But it doesn't matter anymore, because it has set the tone for how ur gonna deal wid Max's role in a 'dirty' battle vs Lando's. Lando will, inevitably, become a victim of Max, not an active participant in a battle for the lead. Max's tactics are dangerous, while Lando's were necessary.

Ant Davidson starts his analysis on skypad by comparing Max setting up a corner to Baku 2018. Baku happened in a straight, and both drivers were reprimanded for it. I personally think Max shud not have weaved in a straight like that, but thats my opinion, its not reflective of the sporting rules. Late maneuvers are dangerous but they're not necessarily illegal, not just when it comes to defending, but also attacking. What Ant Davidson does in this opening analogy is setting the tone of HIS opinion. And its interesting to me that he finishes the segment, in which at several points he talks of Lando's choices in first person, wid 'I rest my case'. The fact that he had a 'case' at all and feels comfortable admitting it is kind of shocking until u realize that the objective of his 'stewarding' is to turn defending into a punishable act because Max was the one doing it, and Max is 'dirty'. In no instance are Lando's late maneuvers questioned because, we go the back to the original point, Lando was entitled to make them. He was entitled to pass. Max, however, is not entitled to defend.

Johnny herbert who was one of the stewards in Austria, said that they looked at Max's defensive maneuvering and it was 'clever' and made Lando's life difficult but it was not clear it was under braking. He said Max positions his car very well but sometimes goes beyond the drivers 'unwritten code'. Then, regarding specifically the incident in t3, he says some people claim Lando could have moved and yes maybe but he was right not to, because it showed Max he was prepared to 'fight back' and he can 'beat Max at his own game'. Lando did not complete a single overtake in Austria. Not once did he get ahead of Max where he didnt have to fall back again. But because they bumped and Max was penalized, this is a net positive for him. The underlying implication here is that anything that threatens Max's position on track is a net positive for the driver, and for the sport. About how this battle will affect Lando, Johnny says, 'up until Austria Max had always won. Now he is not winning. It will be interesting to see how Lando responds. He will now be in a better place after what has happened. He has realized he knows he has a chance of beating Max at his own game.' Lando finished a race pointless the day after he got fleeced in a sprint. I dont think this was a positive grand prix for him. I think he engaged in a few laps of hard racing wid Max that ended in a puncture for both. Thats not important though. He challenged Max. Johnny seems content wid just that.

The issue is not that Lando isnt a victim because Max is, nor that pundits are not allowed to be biased, or that Max shud not have been penalized. Whats been bugging me about the reaction to Austria is that once something like that happens and it involves Max, its no longer about what actually took place or the dynamic between drivers that allowed it to escalate, its about deciding whether or not the battle was dirty, and how is that dirtiness attributed to a single actor. It takes motor racing and turns it into the weighing of souls. And Max's will always be heavier.

[spopsalt]

Rewrite of the dialogue of Lucifer and Alastor meeting

Alastor straight up saying fuck you feels out of character soooo I'm bad at writing passive aggressive dialogue so apologies if it comes off as awkward

Alastor: Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you! Quite a pleasure! *Shakes cane then wipes hand on his coat* Nice finally put a face to the name! However, it is interesting that you looked much taller in your pictures.

Lucifer: *Narrows eyes but doesn't say anything*

Alastor: Oh well, I suppose not everyone can have an intimidating stature. Its not your fault. By the by, you havent heard you of my radio show, have you?

Lucifer: I haven't. I guess that's why it's called the HAZBIN hotel

Alastor: Hm well that was clearly a crock...I named the hotel actually, too bad you weren't here when I chose the name. I'm sure your daughter would've appreciated your input. It's a shame really.

Lucifer: Well don't act like your name was very clever

Alastor: *Narrows his eyes, his expression becoming more strained* Haha. Well I suppose everyone has their own opinions and quirks, for example, your fashion sense is quite....interesting. It is certainly unique. Bless your heart you opinated fellow.

[alexwritingspot]

Hi, I’m obsessed with Jason Grace lately, so can you do #15 when he can’t stop looking at Reader any time he has the chance and Reader just asked him why and ended up in a confession. SORRY I DON’T SPEAK ENGLISH

Too beautiful to not stare…

Pairing: Jason x gn!reader

words count: 800

prompt 15: “…why are you staring at me?”

warnings: none

A day at New Rome spent with your best friend, Jason Grace, will eventually turn out as a confession by both of you.

a/n: Hi lovely! Don’t worry, I don’t speak English either 💀 And also, loved this request, I just had so much fun writing it! Hope it was what you were hoping for, as always, enjoy! (Also, I’m deeply sorry to answer this so late 😭😭 hope you can forgive me babe 🧡)

—————————————————————————

It was a warm day. You had decided to accompany Jason to New Rome after he had told you he needed to visit camp Jupiter to show his projects about the temples. And, given the huge crush you had on the blonde boy, you used every opportunity you had to spend time with him.

You both didn’t know tho, that today the responsible people for projects like these weren’t at camp, and you had to renounce about Jason’s willingness to explain why they should build other temples, and how.

So instead you decided yo take a walk around the streets of New Rome, even stopping by to buy something to eat.

“I’m sorry about it Jason” You told him as the both of you took a seat under a beautiful gazebo, its upper part adorned by a carpet of colourful flowers.

“It’s okay, it’s not like it’s your fault” He simply answered you with a gentle smile.

“Yeah, I know, but still…”

You were really sorry for what had happened. You knew just how much Jason cared about his project and how much he wanted to onor every god around, even if it would have sounded like a crazy plan to anyone else.

Jason took a bite out of his sandwich “Really y/n, don’t worry. Besides even if I didn’t present my models at least you came with me.” He smiled again, this time a bit more genuinely.

You smiled back at him “Yeah, you’re right. At least we get to spend some time together”

You stayed in a comfortable silence for the next minute, really just enjoying your sandwiches and the view. New Rome was a spectacle.

“Do you like it here?” Then Jason suddenly asked. You turned your head to look at him, noticing that his eyes were already set on you. “Yeah, I think this place it’s amazing. As you know at camp half-blood demigods don’t really have a place to stay when they’re older, or even just- you literally have college!”

You kept on talking about why you thought New Rome was actually a clever idea, and why in your opinion camp half blood should have had something’s similar.

And he actually listened to you. That was the thing with Jason. You actually felt heard in a world where demigods couldn’t have it easy. “Sorry I just- I get too worked up” you joked with a chuckle.

“I see your point, don’t worry” he offered you a kind smile. You swore you could have melted on the spot.

You two both fell back into that comfortable silence, just enjoying the sunny day when you noticed that Jason kept staring at you. You looked at him with a small frown of confusion “…why are you staring at me?” You then started panicking “Wait, do I have something on my face? No, I know! Is an insect in my hair isn’t it? Yes it is” You ruffled your hair in attempt to get away the non-existent bug.

Jason started laughing before stopping you by gently holding your wrist and putting it back down. “Nothing like that. I just… You’re too pretty”

You stopped working in that moment. You could have sworn one of those y/n.exe stopped working appeared in your brain. “What?” Was the only reaction that you could get out of your mouth, your confused frown only deepening.

He moved a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I said you’re pretty.” He declared it as if it was no big deal. You blushed slightly, trying to hide it of course.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jason who just chuckled back. “Getting shy, aren’t we?” He teased you, and you playfully hit his arm “Jason Grace, you can’t just tell someone something like that and after pretending that it’s the most obvious thing in the world!”

He just leaned closer to you “Y/n, do you like me?” He then asked you. This guy was a moron, but he was your moron. You ignored how fast your heart was beating at the moment and quickly cupped Jason’s face with your hands and crashed your lips against his.

He was the dumbfounded one now, he just stood there, not even kissing back. You pulled away a few seconds later “Does this answer your question?” You replied playfully. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer. He answered you with a smile plastered on his face “It does” And then he kissed you again, and you smiled in the kiss. Yep, you definitely liked this guy.

——————————————————————————————————

a/n: hope this met your expectations! 🧡 (Btw I’m gonna reopen requests soon)

[modelbus]

I swear after this I will do requests... this is just something old for me to put up! I've had a busy past few weeks and I swear I'm fighting to do my requests. Disclaimer: I haven't played COD, and reality is what I decide (kidding, feel free to educate me on COD)

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Gn!Reader

Romance Readings

It was a guilty pleasure, and you knew it. Watching your money drain (as if you had any other need for it) as you indulged was saddening, but not saddening enough to make you stop. Other people got into drugs, or smoking, or alcohol, or some other high-inducing thing. Not you, though.

You got into romance novels.

The enjoyment of them started when you were a kid, curled up on a couch with a book splayed across your legs. Romance was, at its core, an idealized concept. Something to be chased but never obtained. And for you, the chasing was in reading about the relationships. You preferred the good - who doesn't? - but a bit of angst never hurt a soul. Certainly not you.

But in the military, you couldn’t exactly tout a romance book around. “The Seven Year Slip” was adorned with a cute and cartoony cover, sure to catch Soap’s eye and invite endless teasing. So, instead, you got clever about it. Price had a plethora of bookshelves in his office, filled to the brim with war books. All nice and shiny hardcovers with removable dust jackets.

All you had to do was slip one of those dust jackets over the cover, and it suddenly seemed like you were the best soldier ever. Everyone was none the wiser, and you got to indulge in what you enjoyed doing: smiling at the fictional couples you wish you were.

When you pulled it out to sit guard over the safehouse, Soap had groaned. Loudly. 

“You take this soldier shit too seriously.” He had grumbled, rolling his eyes. You didn’t retort, didn’t bring attention, didn’t care enough.

His (mostly joking) opinion wasn’t important to you. Soap was nice, you loved joking with him, but when it came to this? You can put up with the teasing comments over what they think your reading habits are. God forbid they actually find out what you’re reading.

That’d be a very shit day for you.

“Never seen someone smile so much at a military tactic handbook.” 

Your head jerks up, eyes wide, smile vanishing from your face. You knew that gruff  voice, although you were far more used to it without the tilt of amusement in it. Ghost.

“...It’s riveting.” You say defensively, knowing Ghost isn’t the type to make a quip and let it go.

“I’m sure. I don’t remember it having characters, though.”

Oh. Oh shit.

You’ve been caught.

“Can’t believe you got away with it for this long.” Ghost huffs, sitting down next to you. “Hand it over.”

Wordlessly, you hold the book out for him. He thumbs through the pages, keeping a finger on the page you were on so you don’t lose your place. After a moment he slips off the fake dust jacket, holding up the real cover: a cheesy image of dandelions being blown away.

“Could be worse.” He notes aloud.

“...there have been worse.” You admit, cheeks flushing red.

He chuckles, going back to the page you were reading. It’s only after a minute has passed that you realize he’s fucking reading it, making you lunge for the book to pull it away.

“Don’t read it!” Carefully, you slide the fake dust cover back onto it to hide the actual book.

“I’m bored out here, and you’re denying me the only entertainment?” Ghost asks, somehow monotone and amused at the same exact time.

You hate him. Next time he’s getting his ass kicked in the field, you won’t help that asshole.

“It’s a romance book.” You spit, actively feeling your cheeks get redder by the second. “Hardly something you’re interested in.”

“I’m interested in not fallin’ asleep. I’m reading it.”

“It’s my book!”

“And I could tell everyone it’s a romance book.”

You stare at him, and he stares back. Ghost is blackmailing you. You’re getting fucking blackmailed over a book. Was it even worth it at this point?

“I’m still trying to read it. And no, you can’t read it aloud.” You try feebly, but your grip on the book is already loosening.

“I’ll read over your shoulder. Move it.”

“Ass.” You grumble, but shift so he can loom over your shoulder ominously. Settling your eyes on your book, you choke on air at the scene you’re on.

It’s definitely not a scene you’d want Ghost reading over your shoulder for, that’s certain. Your headstrong lieutenant, reading a rated-R scene. You’re never going to be able to look him in the eye again, oh God.

“Keep reading, doll.” Ghost says lowly into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “You dug the grave. Lie in it.”

Swallowing, you focus on the book, trying to speed-read through this part. Behind you, you can practically feel Ghost grinning. “What if I wasn’t done reading the page?” He asks.

“Shut the fuck up.”

[theactualsunshinechild]

Okay so now that the Black Swan story quest has officially dropped the lore that Sampo IS in fact a part of the Masked Fools, I think now is the best time for me to present to you my thoughts on what Sampo's fool's mask should be.

Bear with me now, this is going to sound stereotypical, but I have my reasons. I think Sampo's mask should be that of a black cat.

Aesthetically? Flawless. It will make his green eyes pop, go great with the blue hair, and gives the designers an opportunity to give in to the slutty punk goth aesthetic they were kind of already cultivating.

Thematically, I think this is very appropriate because black cats, while nowadays mostly considered to be "bad luck" were initially more about the change of luck. If a black cat crossed your path, your luck would be fated to change, whether for better or worse. As he says, where there is business, there is Sampo. People with cash will suffer because he will sell them junk. People in a bad situation can be taken right out of it by Sampo, but may have to pay a price. He brings luck and he takes it away with a clever word and a flick of the wrist. To a certain degree, encountering Sampo in the story has consistently been in line with this notion! We were having a good time exploring when we found him in the snow, and he got us into an altercation with the Silvermane Guards. Later when we were in a really bad pinch trying to escape Bronya and the guards, he whisked us away (along with Bronya, changing her luck in the process too). When we were in need of a guide to the surface willing to get us in touch with Serval? Sampo to the rescue. Trouble with stolen artifacts during the museum event? Sampo was at the source. Still need help at the museum? Sampo is your man. One can even argue that our luck turning sour on Penacony only started happening after encountering Sparkle disguised as Sampo which can count if you want. Either way, Sampo is a tricksy little creature and luck follows silently in his invisible footsteps.

Therefore I think black cat imagery suits him very nicely, especially with his whole slinking around through dark alleys and knowing the ins and outs of places and always carefully eluding situations that could end poorly. Probably has nine lives and claws to deal with anything he can't wiggle out of. Just as willing to steal scraps as he is to indulge in given treats. Terribly charming in that same way that cats who know they've caused you trouble are, making huge innocent eyes at you until you shoo them off with a sigh. Always capable of appearing when you least expect it and turning the whole situation on its head.

Point is, in my humble opinion, they need to give Sampo a black cat aesthetic for his Fool form because I think it is classic and fits him.

[agir1ukn0w]

I like the version of "The Ballad of Lucy Gray" in the movie (how can I not when it's Rachel singing and so beautifully written). BUT. there is another version which I consider to be a lot more faithful to the tone of the original lyrics; listen to the difference:

both versions are beautiful (and both could be interpreted as a truer version, since all art is subjective and this is no exception). however, my personal opinion is that Emma Lee's version just hits a bit harder simply due to its minor key. especially when she sings the line “just let me remind you who I am to you.” I will, however, concede that the two versions are like looking at the song through two different but equally interesting lenses, if that makes sense. they both have that core of melancholy that makes it such a good breakup song. one heavy, one light. personally I have a headcanon that Lucy Gray originally wrote the minor key version but modified it for her interview before the Games so it would be more widely appealing. it just seems to me like something she’d do (and on the fly too, being so clever).

[vampirae]

Astrology knowledge + personal notes

Disclaimer! Some paragraphs are pure astrological knowledge, others are just mine personal opinions and experiences. Experiences aren't universal, it may apply to some and not to others.

You don't feel like the 4th house is accurately describing your family dynamics or traumas? Nice, then look at your 2nd house. The 4th house talks about your family, but mostly about your roots, generational trauma, your country, your literal home etc. Meanwhile the infamous 2nd house associated always exclusively with money, in reality is linked directly to your childhood, your family dynamics/setting, values or traumas they gave you, also your literal future family etc. E.g. Venus in the 2nd house is associated with being spoiled or likely to be giving gifts or favours, but why? Probably because in their childhood caregivers tried to "buy their love" so they associate gifts to being loved. Look at the planets in your 2nd house, its ruler, and the aspects etc.

Cancer sun men, usually tend to be cheap or stingy, literally, never met a Cancer sun man in my life who isn't so, if they behave differently it's usually because it suits their own personal agenda, or try to manipulate you.

Aries moon women tend to post absolutely gorgeous photos, they're so artistic, and know how to take or edit photos or videos.

Cancer rising is so funny, relatable or friendly, they naturally attract people or masses, they're charismatic in their own way, but they tend to be private and dislike when people invade too much of their personal space without permission; some will cut you immediately off, others will be waiting patiently for you to finally understand you're being inappropriate, literally no in between.

Moon in the 12th house, from my own personal experiences, terrible friends. Likely to be great companions if you want to get high or drink or talk about whatever without being judged, but literally avoid them in "no chill time". Extremely manipulative, always victim of the circumstances, helpless and problematic. Briefly, if you don't want to find yourself being a free therapist for hours, a free ATM or parenting a whole ass adult, just avoid getting closer to them. On the other hand, great and sacrificial lovers, but vampiric succubus as friends. (To the people asking me which 12th house moon hurt me, well too many my darling, this is why they're on my blacklist).

When it comes to raw sexual libido mars in fall and detriment are the ones most usually labelled with low libido, which is true, but still in my opinion and experiences they're not on the same level. Mars is Cancer is the one with the highest libido between the three, then Libra and last Taurus. Furthermore men with this mars (the aforementioned) are more prone to have issues with their, ahem, "friend". But, gladly, they also have wild fantasies and are more prone to compromise or satisfy their partner's desires. E.g. if you want them to be dominant, they'll try their best to be your Master/Daddy etc. Last but not least, despite being "shy" and at first look traditional, they're more open to use toys or try new sex positions if it's your will, but won't share you (so threesome or orges literally it's a big NO if they truly love you).

Sagittarius and Cancer placements are competitive AF, but the last one will give up if they're gonna lose or act uninterested, or just whine in the corner about how life is unjust with them. Sagittarius placements, will look chill and playful, but they're extremely competitive, not only because of the prize, but it's a great opportunity to learn something new, or master some of their skills, or just an adrenaline shot. Literally, they're second to Aries when it comes to competing, yet people are unaware of this nature because of their nonchalant and sometimes dumbass vibes/behaviour.

Talking about Sagittarius placements again, when they're labeled as funny, don't think they're master at telling jokes or giving clever clapbacks, in fact, earth signs are masters of this type of humour. Sagittarius placements are funny because of their spontaneous nature: like saying some weird or shocking things with a serious face, or doing some WTF stuff, literally they're funny in original ways and something you never expected. With time they'll acquire a more "normal" sense of humour, but usually they're memorable for their unexpected humour.

Virgo really needs some structure or specific goals or tasks. They could have a hard time with unspecific projects, games or work, they'll literally stay there like a NPC waiting for your interaction or order, analysing the situations, outcomes and necessities.

Libra placements are charming and a good company, their indecisiveness is forgivable most of the time, until you have to work with them. It can be so stressful sometimes to work with or under a Libra (sun, rising or mars), you never know when they'll change their idea again or return to an old project, or what you have to do. I'm sorry to say it, but they're problematic bosses and owners. To lift yourself from this curse, there are few options, like changing job or aggressive yet polite confrontation, just to make it clear, next time you won't forgive and neither make you lose your time again, because it's the only resource you can't buy or restore.