#mwah mwah hope that helps

[beanghostprincess]

"but oda drew yamato with the others girls, that means-" it means he's a boy that was drawn with the girls the same way i was constantly forced to be with the girl group too whenever they made gendered teams in school and i'm still not a fucking girl

[yrdnzz]

and i got eyes on the back of my head, i got eyes everywhere so i know where you go

[dokjaism]

Stay close to me, don’t go away — アリア《離れずにそばにいて》

happy belated birthday gaby (˶ > ₃ < ˶)♡ @kimdokjas

[tkachukisms]

long time no post... i've had this shit ready to post for like a week. and should've done it then. but uhhh but uhhhh but uuhhhhhhhh. what's the deal with airplane food am i right. | <- omgggg prev

[itsjaywalkers]

offering u some jegulus pirates of the caribbean au (except not exactly but u do get one of the scenes from the first movie) || 3677 words || no cws apart from james being a menace and regulus praying for his downfall (while also being lowkey attracted to him very much against his will)

“But he saved my life!” Regulus insists, starting to feel a little desperate, eyes jumping from his father, to Commodore Lucius, to the stranger who had jumped into the sea to stop him from drowning. 

“Yes, Regulus, we heard you the first time,” his father sighs, barely hiding the roll of his eyes. It’s enough to make some heat flood into Regulus’ cheeks, and he has to repress the urge to pout, or even worse, stomp his foot. “But, son, come on. Look at the state of him. You’d have to be incredibly naive to not realise he isn’t a good man.” 

“I resent that,”  the stranger pipes in, grabbing everyone’s attention. Not like the soldiers’ has been anywhere else since they stormed in. “Why, Governor, appearances can be deceiving.” 

Regulus cringes slightly, and it’s not because of his wet clothes, or the cold already seeping into his bones, despite having his father’s, Orion, coat over his shoulders. Or, well, not entirely because of that. 

The scold twisting his father’s harsh features is enough to make him want to curl into himself, or at the very least, take a step back. Regulus has been the target of that specific expression more times than he can count, even though he always does his best to remain out of the spotlight. Always seen, but never heard. That’s how his parents prefer him. The only way they can somehow tolerate him. 

He’s not his brother, after all, as everyone seems so set on reminding him. Sirius might be brash, and insolent, and sometimes border on rebellious, but he’s the perfect leader. Loved and respected by all. Everyone adores him, even their parents, despite barely being capable of it, and Regulus can’t say he blames them.

Maybe that’s why he’s speaking up now, trying to do the right thing for once, even though every part of him fought against the mere idea. Regulus thinks Sirius will be proud of him, as soon as he returns from his trip and Regulus tells him all about it.

He can’t help but wish he was here with him. Everything feels less scary when his older brother is at his side. 

Before his father has the chance to open his mouth, possibly to obliterate the kind stranger that risked his life to save Regulus’, Lucius steps forward, a blonde, nearly white eyebrow arched at the unknown man. 

“Deceiving, you say?” he repeats in a drawl, nose turned up in what can only be disgust. Really, Regulus can’t understand what his cousin sees in him. “I suppose we should at least give you the benefit of the doubt.” Lucius gives him a tight-lipped smile. “I believe thanks are in order, then.���

Lucius extends one arm, if a bit begrudgingly, offering his hand to the stranger. Regulus’ eyes widen a little at the gesture, and he can feel his father glaring at Lucius’ back with such ferocity it almost makes him shiver. 

Regulus can’t say he blames him. Lucius isn’t disobeying direct orders, mostly because Orion hasn’t said anything concrete, but it comes way too close for comfort. 

The stranger eyes the hand with clear wariness, but he still grins and nods a little, before reaching out to give Lucius’ hand a firm shake. 

They’ve barely made contact with each other when Lucius grips the stranger harshly, pulling him closer and raising the sleeve of his undershirt up, revealing a branded ‘P’ on his forearm. Regulus can’t quite repress the tiny gasp that escapes his lips.

Lucius’ smile becomes wider, sharper, as he watches the suddenly sheepish stranger with no little amount of satisfaction. “Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?

Regulus grimaces at the word almost at the same time as the stranger winces. He didn’t give it too much thought at first, because he had swallowed a lot of water, and had been too busy coughing it all out to properly notice, but he supposes the man’s attire kind of gives him away. 

He wears a red bandanna around his forehead, keeping messy black curls off his face, and many strands of his hair seem to be adorned with beads and colourful trinkets. His hazel eyes seem to possess a mischievous glint in them, and Regulus thinks that, under different circumstances, he might’ve found it charming, considering it sort of reminds him of Sirius. He also sports a short, but definitely unkempt beard all around his mouth. 

He takes a peek at his father’s face, and it doesn’t startle Regulus, discovering him looking so smug. 

His words aren’t unexpected, either, but they still fill him with dread.

“Hang him,” Orion orders swiftly, almost bored, and the stranger clicks his tongue, more inconvenienced than scared. 

Lucius lets out a low chuckle. “Keep your guns on him,” he tells his men, without even bothering to check if they’ll listen. They always do, anyway. “And someone fetch me some irons!”

He raises the sleeve a little higher, and Regulus manages to catch sight of ink on brown skin, something that he’s sure resembles a bird, before Lucius is pulling down the cotton once more. 

“James Potter, is it?” he questions blandly, nose wrinkling in distaste. 

“Captain James Potter,” the pirate corrects a bit sharply, lips stretching into another one of those charming smiles. “Sir,” he adds forcibly, almost as an afterthought. 

“Well, I’m afraid I don’t see a ship, captain.” Lucius makes a show of looking around, some of his men laughing under their breaths. 

The pirate’s, James’, smile never falters. “Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it don’t exist.” 

Lucius gives him an incredibly flat stare, but James doesn’t wilt under it, doesn’t even react, really, and instead continues to hold the Commodore’s gaze. 

“Quite sad that I can’t even tell if you’re lying to me or just yourself.” Lucius shakes his head softly. 

James opens his mouth, presumably about to retort, when a sudden uproar between the soldiers draws his attention. Even Regulus’ fathers turns around, seeking the origin of all the fuss, and finally putting some distance between him and Regulus. 

“Commodore!” One of Lucius’ men exclaims, everyone around him making way for him hastily. “I found—I found the pirate’s things!” 

Lucius doesn’t take his eyes off James, not even for a single second, but he raises both eyebrows, clearly pleased by this information. When the soldier finally reaches them, Lucius doesn’t waste a single moment and begins to search through the pirate’s belongings, taking some pleasure in the way James’ expression twitches at the action. 

Regulus’ body leans forward almost unconsciously, and he feels a bit embarrassed by how curious he is about this whole scene. If his father weren’t so distracted, he would’ve scolded him by now. 

“A gun with no additional shots,” Lucius murmurs dryly, eyes fleeting from the weapon on the soldier’s arms to James. “A rusty sword and a hat. What a pathetic excuse of a pirate.”

James raises a hand, and the men flanking him go tense all over, squinting their eyes at him. 

“And yet you have heard of me,” he points out with an easy smile, which, well, it’s not untrue. 

Lucius levels him with an unimpressed glare, while James continues grinning widely. Regulus is as stiff as most of Lucius’ men, unsure of what’s gonna happen next, of how long they’re gonna keep throwing jabs at each other until either of them snaps.

Apparently, Lucius has already had enough, because he grabs James by the wrist once again, even more forcibly than before, and starts dragging him away. His men part to let him pass like it’s second-nature, and Regulus can see Lucius is headed to the other side of the crowd, where one of the soldiers is holding some irons. 

Regulus moves before he has the chance to think about it. 

He runs after Lucius and James, ignoring the startled looks all the men give him, and pretending he doesn’t hear his father call his name in outrage, or the noise of his steps as he follows a moment later. 

The heavy coat falls from his shoulders at some point during his little race, and he can only hope that either his father or one of the soldiers manages to take a hold of it before it touches the floor. The punishment for dirtying one of Orion’s coats might not be the worst his father has done to him, but it won’t be fun regardless.

Regulus has never been as athletic, or as strong, as his brother, but he’s fast and nimble, so he manages to slip in between Lucius and the man holding the irons, halting the advance. Lucius stops, James almost crashing into his back and sending them both tumbling.

“Regulus—” he starts, careful but with an edge in his tone.

“Pirate or not, this man saved my life,” Regulus cuts him off, panting a little but making sure to raise his chin proudly, like his mother has always taught him. 

Lucius blinks at him, before exhaling loudly through his nose. He pulls James from behind him, and with a firm move of his head, the man with the irons rushes from behind Regulus, getting ahold of James quickly and binding his wrists together. Regulus watches for a second before whipping his head around and narrowing his eyes at Lucius. 

“Regulus,” the Commodore tries once more, infusing his voice with something that’s too curt to be considered patient. “I admire your kindness. I truly do. But one good deed is not enough to redeem someone of an entire lifetime of wickedness, and I can assure you, this man does not deserve your mercy.”

Regulus bites his lower lip, eyes pleading at Lucius’ impassive face. “But—”

“You foolish, insolent, little—” his father hisses, fingers curling around his forearm and gripping harshly. 

Orion begins to pull, attempting to get him away from both Lucius and James, and probably drag him back to the house so he can scold him properly. Maybe even punish him. 

Regulus resists, planting his feet firmly on the ground even as his father’s gaze turns furious. He hears Lucius let out an irritated huff at the display, but it doesn’t last long, because one moment Regulus is struggling against his father’s ruthless grip, and the next one there’s a heavy chain around his neck, and a warm, hard body pressed against his back.  

Someone gasps. Or perhaps everyone does. They lean forward, automatically reaching for Regulus, because most of these soldiers have known him and his family for years. They’ve been trained to protect him, to keep him safe. 

Even his father is staring at him in what can only be terror, eyes wide and lips parted, hands twitching with the need to grab him, push him away from who’s holding him captive. 

Regulus inhales shakily. Breathing is a bit difficult, with the chain digging into his neck, but he can manage. He’s staring back at Lucius, at his father, at every single man who’s surrounding him and watching him with anxious eyes. The horror he can see in their faces isn’t helping Regulus to keep calm.

The soldier standing closest to Lucius reaches for his weapon, the noise he makes being the first sound to break the sudden silence. 

“Don’t shoot!” Lucius snarls, taking a step forward and raising a stiff arm. However, the movement leads to James using his irons to choke Regulus further, and Lucius freezes up as soon as Regulus lets out a grunt. 

“Never expected such a posh little boy to be so keen on defending my honour,” James whispers into his ear, loosening his hold but just barely. “But I’m grateful.”

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line, a spark of irritation lighting up inside his belly. It’s not enough to erase his fear, but it helps to distract him a little. 

Of course the one time he finally decides to speak up and do some good, this happens.

“And you, Commodore,” James goes on, raising his voice and infusing it with cheer. “I knew you’d warm up to me.”

Lucius clenches his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides, but he keeps still and doesn’t dare breathe a single word. 

“Now, if you’d be so kind, I’d love to have my effects back. Please.”

It takes a beat, men glancing at each other a bit unsurely, but when James urges Lucius again with a “Commodore!”, the warning clear in his tone, he finally moves. Lucius turns around and grabs James’ belongings quite aggressively, pointedly ignoring the way James huffs. 

Regulus doesn’t even get a moment to relax, because as he watches Lucius moving towards them, arms filled with James’ effects, a warm breath hits him on the side of the neck, sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Do you have a name, darlin’?” James asks quietly, lips grazing the lobe of his ear with every word. 

A wave of heat rushes through Regulus, and he isn’t sure if he’s more angry or embarrassed at his body’s reaction. 

“Regulus,” he responds through gritted teeth. “Regulus Black.”

“Regulus,” James repeats in a drawl, and Regulus can feel his smile against his skin. He tries to tilt his head to the side, get some space, but there’s no use. The pirate won’t let him go anywhere until he gets what he wants. “Well, then. If you’d be so kind, Regulus.”

He can’t help but frown a little, attempting to look back and find some answers, when Lucius steps right in front of him. He’s giving him James’ belongings before he can even blink, and they’re all very lucky Regulus has such good reflexes. 

The moment all the weapons and the belt and the stupid hat are all in his arms, James pulls on the irons and forces him to turn around until they’re facing each other. He has both hands bound and around the back of Regulus’ neck, and they’re standing so close they’re basically breathing into each other’s mouths. The realisation makes Regulus’ heart stutter and his stomach twist uncomfortably, so he tries to move away. Unfortunately, there’s nowhere for him to go, and it only ends with James smirking smugly at him, before nodding pointedly at his things.

Regulus presses his lips into a thin line and narrows his eyes at the pirate, quite satisfied at the fact that they’re basically the same height and he can’t look down on him. Not like he needs to, considering the expression he’s sporting.

Oh, he absolutely hates this. He hates that he risked everything to defend a bloody pirate. He hates that he’s being threatened and held hostage and humiliated. He hates that this is only gonna make him look weaker than he already does. He hates that Sirius isn’t here. And more than anything, he hates James Potter.

Taking a deep breath, Regulus gets to work. He starts with the weapons, uncomfortable with how they feel in his hands, how heavy and how cold. He itches to get rid of them. 

“Make sure to be nice, yeah, darlin’?” James whispers the moment Regulus begins to fasten the belt holding the sword around his waist. 

Regulus wants nothing more than to curse him out, but he settles with wrapping the damn thing extra tight, eyes never leaving James’ and watching as he winces momentarily, before giving Regulus a lazy smile. 

“Careful,” James warns, but it’s teasing. Mocking. “You don’t wanna damage the goods.”

He can’t help but roll his eyes before he grabs the gun and what looks like a sash. He attaches the gun to the belt and then puts the sash over James’ shoulder, noticing that he can’t tie it properly on his current position. Biting the inside of his cheek but refusing to show anything on his face, he presses their chests together and his hands travel to James’ back. 

Regulus focuses on the task at hand, but it proves to be harder than expected, with the way James chooses to return the embrace to the best of his abilities. As if Regulus is doing this willingly, or something. 

James leans into him, until his cheek is touching Regulus’, nose digging into his curls and nuzzling there like they’re—like they’re actually—

Regulus finishes the knot alarmingly fast, his whole face burning, especially when he remembers his father is bearing witness to this whole scene. 

Fortunately, there’s only one thing left and it’s that ridiculous hat, so he puts it hastily on James’ head, more than ready to get this torture done and over with. But as soon as it sits on dark curls, Regulus notices it’s crooked, and he’s reaching out once again a second later, righting the damn thing until it’s good, until James looks every bit the pirate that he is. 

The smile he receives in return almost blinds him, and Regulus is averting his gaze even before James turns him back around. 

The disgust on his father’s face isn’t surprising, but it still stings. Although, not as much as the disappointment does. 

“Good job, love,” James murmurs, just for him, and Regulus makes an active effort to not visibly react. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Regulus cocks his head back just enough for their eyes to meet. “You’re despicable,” he spits, hands trembling with barely contained rage. 

“So much hatred coming from such a pretty mouth.” James clicks his tongue, but his grin widens. “I saved your life, you saved mine. Now we’re square, yeah?”

He opens his mouth, a retort on the tip of his tongue, when James lowers the irons around Regulus’ neck enough to grab his gun and then press the barrel of it against Regulus’ temple. 

His blood runs cold and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a spark of something inside his gut, and then goosebumps break everywhere on his skin, heat rushing to every point of contact between him and James. 

Regulus knows he’s not going to shoot. And yet, a tiny, buried part of him sort of wants him to. 

“Gentlemen,” James exclaims, that fake cheer returning to his voice. “It’s been a pleasure, but I’m afraid it’s time for me to bid you all farewell. Try not to miss me too much, I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”

“You better pray we won’t, pirate,” Lucius snarls, stepping forward at the same time James steps back, still holding onto Regulus.

“Is that a threat, Commodore?”

“It’s a promise.”

James chuckles, and Regulus can feel it rumble against his back. “Well, here’s to hoping you’ll be able to keep it.”

He takes another step back, dragging Regulus with him, but the barrel of the gun isn’t touching his head anymore, and he notices James loosening the irons slightly. He must be about to make his escape, and Regulus thinks he should feel relieved about being freed, but he’s too busy being furious at the fact that James is going to get away with this.

“Oh, I’ll definitely be seeing you again, darlin’,” James says into Regulus’ ear. 

“If you ever dare to go near me again, I’ll kill you myself,” Regulus replies lowly, resisting the urge to turn his head away from James’ filthy mouth.

The pirate hums, and then presses his lips into Regulus’ skin, right under his ear, and it makes him jump, a choked off noise slipping past his mouth. 

For a terrifying moment, he thinks James is kissing him, but the gesture stays as a simple contact. It’s probably just another one of his attempts to anger him, to make a fool out of him, and Regulus loathes that it’s working.

“Looking forward to it,” James mumbles into his throat, and Regulus has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood to keep another sound from coming out.

And then, just like that, James is gone. Regulus is still recovering from his words, and the not-really kiss, when the chain disappears from around his neck, the body wrapped around him vanishing as if it had never been there in the first place. 

Lucius and the rest of his men rush after James, running past Regulus without giving him a second glance, but when he turns around, eyes desperately searching, he can’t see anything apart from a sea of uniformed soldiers. 

Regulus doesn’t stop thinking about what happened all day, not even when his father grabs him by the arm and hauls him home. Or when he screams at him for half an hour, and then sends him straight to bed without dinner. It all feels a bit like he’s in a dream, or a trance, and watching everything from outside. 

Nothing seems real anymore. Not since James spoke into his skin while pressing the barrel of his gun to Regulus’ skull.

He isn’t sure of how or when, but one thing is very clear: Regulus is getting revenge. He won’t rest until he sees that bloody pirate behind bars.

[fallenclan]

really wanted to draw some cats from other clans today so here we are! a couple of my favs

Boulderspeckle belongs to @bitterclan

Oakstorm belongs to @cricketclan

Belle and Moonspeckle belong to @almaraclan

[killemwithkawaii]

Dear depressed/ executive dysfunction-having/ etc. selfshipper,

Your f/o wants you to shower. 

No, not because they think you're gross or smelly, but because they know you'll feel at least a little bit better once you're clean. 

They won't judge you if its been longer than you'd like to admit since you last bathed.

They won't show revulsion when they see how unkempt your nails or hair or skin has become as a result of inadvertent neglect. 

They won't shame you or think less of you for having difficulty with doing what 'should' be a basic, simple act of self-care. Your [f/o] understands that sometimes, 'easy' things can become difficult, for one or many reasons. They love you, and all they want is for you to be comfortable and healthy. A good shower will help you with both those things. 

If [f/o]s gentle encourgement isn't enough to get you to tackle the task on your own, they're glad to help as much as you need them to- they'll turn on the water to your preferred temperature, help you undress, hold your hand to keep you steady when you step over the lip of the tub, wash your hair for you, gently scrub down wherever you're comfortable with them touching, make sure all the soap is rinsed off, gently dry you off with a fresh, soft towel, and help you get dressed in clean, sensory-friendly clothes....

"... there we go, [y/n].... it was hard at first, but it wasn't so bad once you got in, right? ... Good, I'm happy to hear that... You look like you're feeling better already..." 🚿💕

[itsticklishme23]

soft morning feetsies deserve soft morning kissies ☀️💋

[xythlia]

FANFIC WRITING RESOURCE MASTER POST

so in the spirit of wanting to see writers thrive I've decided to make a big master post of every single resource I use in order to create my works. It can be really hard to find concrete resources and it's frustrating to feel like you just don't know how to do something or how to get started but no worries hopefully you can find answers in this post ^⁠_⁠^

ON WRITING SMUT

› writing resources to keep on hand while you write

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut Fic by QuinnAnderson on AO3

The Sexy Thesaurus by Laurel Clark

Lewd Vocabulary in Erotic Fiction Survey by KJ Scott (from a survey done on r/fanfiction)

75+ Ways To Say Heart Pounded by Kathy Steinemann

Ways To Describe Breath & Breathing by Kathy Steinemann (everything on her site is super helpful tbh)

21 Other Words For Vagina by Lisette Marshall

The Gay Sex Positions Guide (be advised this is a photo guide!)

Writing Sex Scenes by Michael La Ronn (video resource)

GENERAL HELPFUL WRITING TOOLS

› things that can help when you feel stuck on certain words, want to avoid repetitive sentences, or check your spelling and grammar

Reverse Dictionary (search for words based on their definition)

Related Words (help you find words related to another word or phrase)

Describing Words (find adjectives)

Words to Use (reference that groups subject related words by parts of speech)

Wordhippo (has synonyms/antonyms/ect based on different definitions)

Netspeak (search for words you don't know yet/internet slang)

OneLook (thesaurus/dictionary)

Fighters Block (overcome writers block by setting it up as a game to achieve a certain word count)

Scribens (lesser known spelling and grammar check but does more! Helps prevent word repetition, rephrasing, vocab enhancement, + other stuff)

THE BASICS OF WRITING

› helpful resources to give you a solid foundation for your writing

7 Fundamentals of Writing by Michael Stover

Fundamentals of Writing by Jim Westergren

RECOMMENDED BOOKS

› this section is books on writing I recommend reading, you can either purchase them or if you know how to pirate you can get them that way too

On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft by Stephen King

On Writing Well by William Zinsser

The Elements of Style by William Strunk & E.B. White

Ernest Hemingway on Writing by Larry W. Phillips

The Writers Journey by Christopher Vogler

[punkbarbarian]

[image id: a dark photograph of a grassy cliff face with dense clouds. a white illustration of a bat with its wings spread sits behind white text. text reads: Vampire Manor / a for truth's sake game by punkbarbarian. /end id]

On a rocky cliffside overlooking rolling moors as far as the eye can see sits a dark, towering manor home made of brick and iron. Tempestuous clouds cast a perpetual drizzle on the countryside and nearby forest, leaving the air damp and cold. Surely the generous owner of the manor the villagers whispered about will let you shelter there.  Maybe you’ll gather some interesting material for your research… Investigate the macabre manor, its eccentric inhabitants, and the nearby village through interviews and observation. What is the relationship between the unliving and villagers? Why do members of the community go missing without a trace? How long has the Vampire actually been alive?

Vampire Manor is a solo-journaling game where you explore a vampire's ancient manor and the surrounding village to learn more about the community and write an ethnography on them. 

Pull cards to ask questions of the residents, roll dice to see how well interactions go, and get to know a number of residents and fellow travelers, from a petty thief, to wandering nomads, a vampire hunter, and the intimidating Vampire. Unlock 12 different locations and gain levels in friendship and familiarity with the community as you document your discoveries in field notes.

You'll need: A d20, d12, and d8, and a deck of playing cards

Vampire Manor is a setting of For Truth's Sake by @hmooncreates. It was inspired by Dracula by Bram Stoker, Castlevania (Netflix), and Curse of Strahd. 

included in download: a plain text pdf and a formated pdf!

check it out on itch!!

[zzzx009]

HII, I'M SORRY I REALLY LIKE YOUR ART AND I WANTED TO KNOW HOW MUCH TIME IT TOOK TO FINALLY HAVE THE RESULTS OF BEAST/15 STYLE (i forgot the name of the creator) AND SOME TIPS :33

Helloooo thank youuuu 🥹🫶🫶🫶

I've been drawing for most of my life but I've only been taking it seriously since five years now, but truthfully I only studied beast/15 manga style aka hoshikawa's art for maybe around 2 years,

Here's my first ever attempt at drawing like hoshikawa's style back in 2022!!

I admit I don't know how to give good tips because when I began drawing I immediately decided to draw daily (at least fill out two pages) until I don't feel like it anymore, my first goal was a week but then when I finished it I didn't want to break my streak so I continued, I reached two weeks, then a month, then suddenly i drew every day for a whole year (my lazy ass was flabbergasted) and not all people can or have the time to do that I've heard,

If there's any tips I'm confident with is that the internet is full of free resources you can and SHOULD take advantage! Youtube taught me everything I know tbh it saved my life, I was just mindlessly copying before I began truly learning stuff,

In the end once you break it down hoshikawa's art is basically just stylized anatomy and skills and confidence that was built up from years of practicing and consistency, I personally only know basic anatomy rn and most times I still struggle alot tbh😭 so remember to take it easy and most importantly have fun!!🫶🫶

(Side note: study from every professional artist you can find there's always something you can learn from them, don't just stick to copying from one artist pls pls pls don't do my mistakes)

[skyward-floored]

It’s botw’s birthday and I think we should all be very loud about Wild and what a cool guy he is

Happy birthday champion! 🎉

Look at him go!!! what a guy <3

[wildharesandboundteeth]

A subtle and low energy form of worship inspired by Chaos Magick and Sigils

So this one's a bit of basic Chaos magick I've been using for years to charge my sigils. It's slow but steady form of charging sigils that also adds a more 'personal touch' compared to charging with the moon and/or sun. Basically you just put the sigil on a body part with the intention of it being worship.

I am not the first one to do this but I figured that it might be good to share this knowledge to more people.

The basic formula is your God's symbol/ a correspondence of them on or against your body with the intention to dedicate each action of that body part to them.

A choker with a bird pendant dedicating every word you say to Hermes. (Good for presentations and for shit talking with the boys.)

Some examples:

(helpol specific because I'm more familiar with them at this moment)

A rose on your chest,/shirt/bra/binder with the intention of dedicating every heart beat to Aphrodite. (Low energy, more consistent and makes you feel hotter than usual. ;) )

Athena's name written on your finger to dedicate each word written to Her. (Good for homework though try not too write anything too stupid (very difficult for me).)

Ares's symbol painted on the bottom of your exercise shoe's inner sole with the intent to dedicate workout to Him. (Who knows? He might join you (and put you to shame).)

Ways to mark yourself:

I used to use this method with the elemental alchemical signs as well back when I worshipped/drew power from them more often. Holy book versus, sacred numbers, ect. can also work. Heck, maybe even write the entire Mahabharata on yourself.

Non-toxic marker / pen

Water / soil / ash / powder of ground herbs or flowers (non-toxic)

Temporary tattoo / Henna / actual tattoo

Sewing / embroidery / iron-on patches / fabric marker / washable fabric crayons

Honey / milk / yogurt / lotion (all good for the skin)

Face paint / graphic eyeliner / make up (especially foundation you're going to blend)

Just tracing the symbol with a finger

Suggestions

Tip: if you're going with more subtle correspondence (like a drawing of their animal) as opposed to just writing their name or symbol, it's good to do a ritual/ a small prayer to inform them. Just telling them can work too if you're too exhausted for those.

The same effect can be achieved with key chains, stuffed toys, taglocks, ect but I personally like this method as it's something I'm familiar with. It's also harder to forget to do bring something along if it's on your body (yes, I am calling myself out). It also feels more personal.

Disclaimer: Please only do this for gods/entities you know and have a relationship with. I would also advise against doing this to a god that has rejected/not answered your requests to work with them. And please don't mark yourself with a god that you straight up do not know anything about.

I sometimes put wellness sigils for my loved ones on my pulse point(s) or along my chakras with henna. It's slow but with time, it's really builds up.

More rambling

Nowadays, I always make sure to always have the sigils for Lord Hermes and Lord Ares on my foot so I can dedicate each step I take to them. I usually dedicate longer walks to *runs to them but I feel like having a physical 'anchor' helps me concentrate the energy and intent. It also helps if I just plain forget to dedicate a walk to them.

*Disclaimer: author of this post only runs for the bus or because they're late. In no way are they healthy nor disciplined.

In addition to all the worship stuff, it also feels comforting to having something of my loved ones near me/ on me. It reminds me that I am (somehow) loved and that there's something to fight for. Though I might just be getting sentimental in my young age.

So that's my suggestion for you lovely people. I hope to helps inspire someone or something. If anyone has any other suggestions, ideas or constructive feedback, please let me know.

[ontoheartache]

🔥 + eddie

eddie will always have ptsd. eddie will always grieve shannon. eddie is capable of happiness and love with both of those things being true. love and light to all <3

ask 🔥 + topic for an unpopular opinion

[defiledtomb]

I’m PRAYING for PLEASE work out!!!! You deserve that apparment!!! God! I’m so excited!

ME TOOOOO!!!

[stevebabey]

CONGRATULATIONS RUBY!!! You're one of my favorite authors so I trust that you'll make something amazing out of this request (if you like it and feel like writing it, no pressure)

❤️‍🔥 with “Nobody in the world has hands this soft.”

just a little steve hand appreciation blurb (bonus points if you include comparing hands with him!!!)

M!!!! AHHH THANK U ANGEL!! im literally so :')) rn u are so very talented so it really means the world for me to hear u like what i write!! your bonus point suggestion like shaped this whole blurb im so glad u included it & omg its the first to break 1k+ words. i went for mutual pining besties bcos i've only written established relationship so far ! enjoy my dear!!! <3

You can’t believe you’re listening to advice from a 14-year old.

It feels like a new low. The idea that you can’t figure out the flirting thing on your own combined with the fact it’s your kid friend Dustin who seems to have a mountain-load of advice makes you feel— well, less than stellar.

But times are tough. And shit, it’s not actually bad advice.

Besides, despite Steve being your best friend, you’ll admit Dustin and him are close as well. Close enough that you made Dustin swear not to rat out your feelings to Steve at the first opportune moment.

He’d scoffed, then very reluctantly agreed. Seemed miffed you wouldn’t let him play matchmaker. Then set to work formulating a perfect plan on how you were to woo Steve — though he insisted you really didn’t need to because Steve was already well and truly obsessed with you.

“Honest!” He had said, eyes bright, and with that familiar cocky smile like he knew more than you. Which, in this case, might be true.

“Steve’s crazy for you, I can tell. He once gave this whole talk about,” Dustin waved his hands around. “Electricity. It’s a whole thing with him. Just trust me, you guys have it.”

Which leads to the here and now. You’re in the passenger seat of Steve’s beemer, the drive-in screen glowing ahead of you, just out the windshield. It’s night time, the dark lit up by dozens of shiny neon signs dotted about around the drive-in keeping you cozy in the car.

There’s an advertisement for Scoops Ahoy! ice-cream, all red, white, and blue, nautical symbols in every corner on a board to your right; a crimson and mustard coloured hot-dog stand with bright lit bulbs around it and a comically large weiner atop it. Beside it is a less glammed up, but nevertheless, trusty popcorn stand.

One of the buckets from there sits between you two, balanced between the seats. Steve seems to be unaware of your inner turmoil, his interest in the film properly piqued as you debate internally on Dustin’s advice. The film is miles away to you, worrying your bottom lip as you reconsider Dustin’s words.

“Just, like... find a way to touch his hand. No, wait- compare hand sizes! That’s like the oldest flirt in the book.” He’d nodded with enough fervor you nearly didn’t question him. Nearly.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you’d asked. “And where did you hear that?”

“Suze.” He’d said plainly. “And Suzie said she heard it from the girls at one of her camps. And it worked on me, so it’ll work on Steve. He’s simple!”

So, how do you go about this? You’re not sure there’s a natural way to ask to compare hand sizes. This feels like a flirt you’d do if he was just a handsome stranger at a party and you had a couple tequila shots on your side for encouragement. Leaned against a wall, sultry giggles and seductive touches; that seems more fitted for the flirt you’re about to try.

But you’re Steve’s best friend, not a stranger, and there’s certainly no liquid courage in your veins. No party. Just you, armed with more butterflies in your stomach than you can count and the advice of a 14-year old. God, you’re screwed.

You steel yourself and steal a glance at Steve. He’s in that grey shirt you like, long sleeved with just two buttons up the top. Both of them are undone.

You feel a bit peaky at how it makes you flush, seeing a flash of his chest. Briefly, you wonder if he’s worn the shirt because he knows it’s one of your favourites. The thought provides no relief to your nerves.

You fix your eyes forward and miss the way Steve glances to check on you, a smile toying at his lips.

Coincidentally, when he reaches for the popcorn, so are you — and your hands brush in the middle, burning hot, and you startle at the touch. Steve’s already apologising, pulling his hand but in a moment, you see it clearly there; your segue.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” You comment, with a quiet chuckle to seem casual, shifting yourself to face him better. Your stomach turns over with nerves and you have to force yourself to meet his eye.

You raise your hand a bit, palm facing him. “See?”

Steve’s pauses, only for a moment, but it’s enough to send your heart rocketing. Just as you’re about to retract your hand and hope to hide your crumpled pride, embarrassment stinging at your chest, Steve grins.

He chuckles and twists in his seat to face you, unfurling his hand and extending it out towards your own.

He wavers, hesitating just short of pressing his hand against yours and when your eyes dart up to his face, your stomach tightens up a bit more at what you find. Nervous, you think giddily, he’s nervous.

In another second the expression is gone and he presses his hand flush against yours.

“I think you might have the world’s smallest hands,” He jokes, curling his fingers over the top of yours just to prove the point. He’s wrong but compared to his large hands, you can see why it certainly might seem that way.

“I think you just have huge hands, Harrington,” You remark, enjoying the feeling of his hand against yours far too much.

The butterflies in your stomach have evolved into something bigger — some sort of lovebird that pecks at your heart and leaves it bleeding in your chest. The beat of its wings gets louder every second Steve doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in closer.

“Nope, it’s your hands, 100 percent.” He nods along, lips quirked into an amused smile. The film continues unnoticed, just flashes of light that illuminate the side of his face. Subconsciously, you lean closer into his space, nearly close enough that you could lean over and lay one of him. If you wanted.

Steve continues with a tease, “I’m serious! Nobody in the world has hands this small.”

“Nobody in the world has hands this soft.” You counter with a grin. It’s true, Steve’s hands aren’t at all like how you’d expected; instead of calloused and rough, they’re supple and soft. Like a lover, not a fighter.

It takes a moment to realise your slip. Your heart stutters and Steve’s eyes turn a little wide. His cheeks flush and the only comfort is the obvious delight on his features, even as he blushes pink. His eyes dart to your lips. You hold your breath.

“Yeah?” He asks and licks his lips. “I- I’ve, uh, heard— well, some would say the same about my lips.”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’ve seen him be, words a bit fumbled. He screws his eyes shut for a moment, gathers his courage, then keeps going. His voice is quiet, eyes watching you closely. “Softest... yeah, softest in the world s’what they’ve said...”

If by some terrible tragedy you’ve misread this and he’s not asking for a kiss, you’ll happily let the ground swallow you up after this. But with the nervous gleam in his eye, his pink lips, and hand against yours, you think you like your odds.

You close your eyes, lean in, and think of luck.

And even if it was just a line, you have to agree; these are the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and maybe in the entire world.

join the celebration <3!