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[menmusthave]

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[literaryvein-reblogs]

more words for characterization (pt. 4)

Age

adolescent, afresh, ancient, antiquarian, antique, big, childish, crude, doddering, elderly, fresh, full-grown/full-fledged, green, hoary, immemorial, infant/infantile, junior, late, medieval, mint, modish, new, novel, older, old-fashioned, originally, outdated/out-of-date, passé, quaint, refreshing, secondhand, stale, state-of-the-art, undeveloped, up-to-date, well-preserved, youthful

Appearance

adorable, aesthetic/esthetic, artistic, beautiful, comely, crisp, dapper, decorative, desirable, dressy, exquisite, eye-catching, fancy, fetching, flawless, glorious, good-looking, graceful, grungy, hideous, homely, irresistible, natty, ornate, plain, pretty, refreshing, resplendent, seductive, spiffy, striking, stylish, ugly, unbecoming, willowy, with-it

Genuineness

abstract, actually, alias, apocryphal, apparently, arty, authentic, baseless, beta, bona fide, circumstantial, concrete, contrived, credible, deceptive, delusive, dreamy, ecclesiastical, empirical/empiric, enigmatic/enigmatical, ersatz, ethereal, factual, fallacious, fantastic, far-fetched, fictitious, foolproof, fraudulent, good, hard, historical, honest-to-God, illusory/illusive, imitative, indisputable, invisible, just, lifelike, made-up, magic/magical, make-believe, matter-of-fact, metaphysical, monstrous, mystic/mystical, mythical/mythological, nonexistent, openhearted, ostensibly, paranormal, physical, positive, pretended, quack, quite, realistic, right, sincerely, specious, spurious, supernatural, synthetic, tangible, true, unearthly, unnatural, unthinkable, unvarnished, unworldly, valid, veritable, wholehearted/whole-hearted, wrong

Movement

ambulatory, brisk, clumsy, fleet, fluent, frozen, gawky, graceless, immobile, indolent, itinerant, leisurely, lifeless, liquid, lithe, maladroit, migrant/migratory, motionless, moving, nomadic, oafish, passive, pendulous/pendent, portable, restless, roundabout, sedentary, slow, speedy, static, vibrant, winding

Style

adorable, baroque, becoming, black, bold, brassy, cheap, class, classy, contemporary, country, cultural, dashing, dowdy, eat high on the hog, exquisite, featureless, flamboyant, floral, flowery, formless, futuristic, garish, gay, glamorous, gorgeous, grand, graphic, hot, improvised, informal, innovative, kinky, loud, lush, luxurious, mean, meretricious, modish, neat, new, obsolete, old-fashioned, orderly, ornamental, ostentatious, outdated/out-of-date, palatial, picturesque, plush, posh, prevalent, quaint, refined, resplendent, rustic, scruffy, sharp, simple, sleazy, smart, snazzy, spiffy, spruce, stately, state-of-the-art, stylish, swank/swanky, tacky, tasteless, tousled, two-bit, unbecoming, unworldly, up-to-date, vogue

NOTE

The above are concepts classified according to subject and usage. It not only helps writers and thinkers to organize their ideas but leads them from those very ideas to the words that can best express them.

It was, in part, created to turn an idea into a specific word. By linking together the main entries that share similar concepts, the index makes possible creative semantic connections between words in our language, stimulating thought and broadening vocabulary. Writing Resources PDFs

Source ⚜ Writing Basics & Refreshers ⚜ On Vocabulary

[ashraf741]

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[karlachismylife]

Local Spot || The Queen of the Clan pt.6

CW: fem!chubby!reader, some tame unwanted attention.

If not for man-made structures, you wouldn’t be able to tell the border between the territory of the natural reserve you got your filming permit for and the sanctuary that cuts off a smaller part of the landscape. Fenced off, it looks just the same – no surprise there, to be honest; sunlit tall grass, sandy and dusty ground and scattered trees, shielding the inhabitants with their shadow. No doubt, they have water sources too – everything in sanctuary’s power to tend to quite simple needs of animals that can’t be let out back into the wild after surviving each their own trauma. Driving past the tall mesh that makes sunbeams ripple when hitting your little Rover caravan, you try covering your eyes to look into the reserve, but no animals come close to the road, hidden securely somewhere deep in their new forever home.

“I hope you’re prepared to be blown away by the luxurious housing, we’re working our asses off to impress city cookies like you here.” With a distinct chuckle, Kir beckons you inside, holding a simple plywood door open for you and dropping your backpack from his shoulder on the porch of the little cabin – a whole line of them drags along a narrow road, animals’ enclosures basically on the other side of the “street”. Land too expensive, government too hesitant to “lose” everything it could provide by leaving it as untouched reserve; thus, someone had to make room for their neighbours, and humans decided to sacrifice their own comfort for the sake of the animals.

“Check this out,” Kir waits until you finish looking around the single room that serves as bedroom, living room, office – even a kitchen, if you can count the tiny portable stove and a kettle on a counter – and with a theatric gesture of a magician opens a narrow door, revealing the tiniest bathroom behind it: a toilet, a small sink hanging off a wall and just a cheap curtain to separate the shower area with a drain in  the floor. “Not bad, huh? No hot tub, but pretty close. Don’t recommend you putting candles and champagne there, though, if you even mange to find those around here somehow…” Laughing with you at the deeply impressed and amazed expression you feigned at the sight of your lavish bathroom, Kir raises a finger calling for your attention once more and then struggles with the sink tap for a moment, finally getting it to sneeze and run clean water. “Actually working plumbing. You feeling like a queen yet?”

“Grandiose, brother,” you snort and come closer to hold a handful under the stream, gathering slightly warm water and using it to wipe sweat from your face and neck. “But no, really, don’t think there’s much more I could need, so this is perfect. You’re my neighbour or what?”

“I’m just three cabins away, door’s always open for you.” Having closed the tap, Kir shuffles his way out of the cramped space and leaves your cabin, hands in his pockets. Remembering something, he turns on his heels and nods at your backpack. “Laundry’s in the main building, there are bags to separate yours, it’s all done together in the mornings so it’s best to leave yours in the evening. Oh, and I’ll ask around about something to get rid of the stink.”

With a dazzling grin and a wink, Kir salutes you and finally turns his back, returning to work and leaving you to sort through your belongings and settle in. If everything goes well, you’ll spend just a few days here before the head of your crew successfully prolongs the filming permit and you head out into the savannah once more. Having this bureaucratic delay doesn’t feel good, but in a weird way you feel relieved.

You don’t think you would be able to leave this place without a heavy heart if the shoot lasted just three weeks like planned initially.

Settling on the top step of your low porch, you pull your backpack closer and hold your breath instinctively, even though a week in the wild has somewhat tamed the stink. It’s not strong per se, but it has a stinging undertone of concentrated boiled soap, to the point where it almost tastes sweet on the back of your mouth roof. Scoffing, you pull your belongings out of it, throwing crinkled plastic bags onto the floor behind you.

Finally reaching the one with dirty laundry inside, you grab it along with the empty backpack itself and make your way all the way to the main building, quick to find the laundry room – just as tiny as everything else. You empty your crumpled laundry into a nice canvas bag and write down the slightly scraped off number on it to know which one to pick up later, and then drop off the backpack in the corner, only just noticing teeth marks on it in several places – a chewed up strap mostly.

Somehow you don’t even doubt it was all Stinky’s doing.

“Adorable bastard,” you grumble under your breath and nearly ram into Kir’s firm chest at the door, too distracted with thoughts of your spotted acquaintance trotting around somewhere in the yellowish grass of the savannah.

“You called?” He laughs watching you roll your eyes and squeezes past you with a pat on your shoulder, a spray bottle of some kind in his hands along with his own laundry. “It’s for your aromatherapy backpack. If you want, you can spray it yourself, I’ll finish my shift sooner and we’ll hit the town. Bet you didn’t get a good look around when you arrived, yeah?”

Only fair for you to deal with your stink problem yourself, Kir already went above and beyond to help you, so you take the spray from his hand and return to the corner to drag your backpack outside, humming in response.

“No, they picked us up pretty quickly… only saw the bus station basically.” You shake the rattling bottle and make a trial spray, high-pressure mist with another harsh, sweet smell – most similar to a mosquito repellent – bursting into the air. The sticker on the can reads as some water- and sweat-repellent for shoes. “Anything interesting to see?”

The spray hisses, covering your backpack in a generous cloud of chemical smell and slight plastic-y glint after it settles. From inside the laundry room Kir raises his voice, admitting that there’s basically nothing except a couple stores and a dingy bar that can be of interest – it’s still worth it, you decide: just fifteen minutes of scootering down a bumpy dirt road and you get to buy something to treat yourself after a week on canned food and maybe even get a drink.

“I’ll come knock on your door then after I finish, then.” Kir leaves the laundry room and catches the spray can you throw him – if your watering eyes and coughing are any indicators, you’ve applied more then enough. Hanging the backpack outside to let it air out the possibly deadly concoction of sweat repellent and hyena sprayings, you finally drag yourself to your cabin.

A cool shower and a little bit of gentle persuasion via banging on the kettle stand until the loose contact clicks and the heating starts, you settle on your porch with your thermos and breathe in deeply. Nothing disturbs you, the feeling of being watched forgotten like it wasn’t even there. Must have really been the savannah getting in your head..

Sun is slowly sliding to the west, still high, but already a bit dimmed and oranged by the incoming dusk. Dry, clear air is rippling and throbbing above the ground, cooling off, weak wind snaking through the dust of the little road. Crickets and cicadas are chirping repetitively, like an ancient ethnic instrument from the good old times when music had more rhythm than melody. From your steps, you can’t make out which direction the call comes from, but somewhere on the sanctuary’s territory roars a buffalo – must be that young bull Kir told you to be careful around.

Two of the sanctuary employees walk past you, dirty gloves and sweaty noses – they smile and nod at you, barely interrupting a lively discussion, something about water going green in one of the biggest water sources. That’s not good, you think, but they don’t look particularly worried. More like confident.

Like they know what they’re doing and why.

Closing your eyes, you take another deep breath and sip your tea, careful not to burn your mouth. Red and pink prints of the vascular system in your eyelids mix with the way you already saw sky go up in flames at sunsets here, a peaceful feeling washing over you. There’s serenity in the way life flows measuredly around here, clocks and calendars slowly growing meaningless in the face of greater time countdown – seasons and solar cycles dictating times to migrate, to hunt, to procreate. People here made the decision to tie their lives to the nature, preserving and studying, and thus their time obeys the same laws, no hectic anxiety of semesters, quarter reports and tight schedules keeping them in a never-ending race.

It’s a blessing – to do the right thing with a reasonable pace, day after day, knowing you have something meaningful to do every time you wake up. In the outside world no one thinks highly of someone digging elbow-deep into the green mud of a small pond antelopes come to drink from, but here it matters.

You’d like to matter.

“Thinking of me with that smile on your face, I hope?” Kir’s cheeky voice drives you out of the meditative headspace and you open your eyes lazily, wrinkling your nose at him – he even made sure to approach you in a way that wouldn’t obstruct the softened sunrays caressing your face.

“Yeah, you wish. We’re going already?” With a grunt, you raise to your feet with his assistance, noticing just how long you must’ve been sitting there, daydreaming. Kir nods and plops a helmet on your head, adjusting the strap under your chin.

“Shopping first, then the bar?” He leads you to the several scooters in sanctuary’s possession, rolling the most new-looking, sandy and just slightly scraped on the wings, on the road and helping you onto it. The machine dips under your combined weight, but Kir doesn’t seem concerned, starting up the engine and driving off the sanctuary territory.

Nearby town can barely pass as one, looking more like a glorified village – small buildings, no higher than three stories, basically a single curved street between them and continuing on to the bigger road. Finally seeing it in the daylight and without the exhaustion of a long trip that kept weighing your eyelids down when you first arrived there on a bus to be picked up by your crew, you find it just as charming – as well as noticing some larger signs of civilization a couple kilometers to the west, tall power transmission poles and antennas around some fenced off facility.

While you try to remember if there was something industrial mentioned when you read about the place you were going to, Kir drags you inside a cramped convenience store, literal mountains of fresh fruits, vegetables and nuts in crates at the entrance and the most random selection of imported goods on the shelves – in a moment of weakness, you pick up some suspiciously looking lime-flavoured crisps and a few cans of cold soda from a fridge that sounds like a fighter aircraft going down from a direct hit, but still manages to keep products inside cool and wet with the condensate.

You leave the store, chewing on some dried fruits Kir helped you choose – even got a discount from a familiar cashier that was happy to inform that they can place orders for some goods if you’re planning to stay longer. Behind your cheerfully polite smile you felt that same wave of belonging that keeps coming back to you.

“We’re a bit late, so all the tables are probably taken, do you mind sitting at the bar?” After you leave your groceries in the scooter trunk, Kir leads you up to the pub, its neon sign already glowing in the slowly approaching darkness, and holds the door open, nodding at the bar counter with just three free stools to your luck.

Keeping in mind that he has “precious cargo” to deliver back, as he calls you, he orders a coke for himself and pays for your cider, promising that it’s one of the things you can actually drink there.

“That’s my favourite, the pear one. When I come here on foot, always grab a bottle or two.” You lean onto the counter, feet dangling above the dirty wooded floor, as you chat with him – he indulges you in the town gossip with some additions from the bartender, making you chuckle as the cider tickles the roof of your mouth. It’s actually good, you admit, and Kir buys you another one before leaving to the bathroom “to see if they have another spider infestation”, which earns him a shoulder slap from the bartender.

When you turn to watch him make way through packed room, you feel your heart stop for a moment, like a prey that finally notices it’s being watched. It’s a fleeting sensation that almost immediately disappears, but you almost hit yourself in the teeth with the bottle neck, once you notice them.

Four men in the furthest corner, staring at you openly – they’re not trying to be discreet, the bearded one saluting you with his whiskey tumbler and two of his buddies flashing you smiles. Friendly smiles, not the ones that make your skin crawl in similar bar encounters back in the big city. Even the one with his face covered by a mask and arms crossed over his bulky chest nods at you and sinks further in his seat, as if it could help him look smaller and less threatening. They seem chill, clearly minding their own business and avoiding the other patrons in that corner, not interested in the rowdy fun of a work day evening among tired people unwinding before heading home.

To fight that initial creeped out feeling, you nod back at them, quickly averting your gaze with a chuckle once you see them light up almost too obviously. Must’ve been ogling you for quite some time, if the smallest acknowledgement gets you such a reaction. It’s kinda sweet, their excitement radiating from the corner, and you watch from the corner of your eye them exchanging a few words before one of them has to force the big guy with a mohawk back into his seat, as if he was already ready to rush through the bar to talk to you.

“I go away for five minutes, and you’re already making eyes at someone?” Your eyes shoot up to see smiling Kir, but as you watch his expression change once he glances over his shoulder at your four watchers, your brows knit together. “Oh, no, cookie, you stay away from that folk, alright? Come on, let’s go, before they come up here.”

Before you even can object, Kir tugs on your elbow insistently, and you have no choice but to grab your almost finished bottle, say a hasty goodbye to the bartender and follow him, stumbling from the sheer force he drags you with, clearly in hurry to get out of the tightly packed bar.

“Hey, can you at least explain? I’m coming, don’t need to drag me, you know,” you try to keep your irritation down. After all, he has done nothing but look out for you, and if there’s anyone you can trust to know all locals, it’s him. Still, you steal a glance at the four-men company and get the unsettling feeling once again, this time not without a reason: the concentrated, slightly frowning looks all four of the men watch you leave with, don’t feel as friendly anymore.

It's only outside, once the night breeze strokes your heated from the alcohol and crowd proximity cheeks, that Kir lets go of your arm and sighs, putting the helmet on you. His voice sounds hushed, and he looks you dead in the eyes, as he says:

“Don’t mess with them, don’t even talk to them, okay? No one wants them here, they’re not locals. The less business we have with them, the better, especially since you’re here just temporarily. I don’t trust them, and you shouldn’t either. Can you promise?”

By the way you look at him, utterly confused, Kir finally realizes how paranoid he sounds and runs a hand over his face, before looking around and leaning to your ear to say even quieter:

“They’ve been roaming around for months already, cookie. They’re military. They’re bad news from the West.”

Suddenly, you realize what that fenced off facility you saw earlier was. A military base.

Just twenty minutes away from the natural reserve.

Part 5 | Part 6.5 | Part 7

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Tagging: @elaineiswithyou-blog @creepingeva @my-halo-is-a-little-broken @sillymanjaro @ihatethinkingofnames10 @ravensfeatheruniverse @yaminax @ljh861 @darkangel4121 @ginger-n-coco @grey-shadow6475 @cryingpages @mothsdrabbles @mc-glare-is-king @vixxie22 @aldis-nuts @terraantarctica @henhouse-horrors @blizzivy @perfectus-in-morte @danielle143 @llavalada @yukichan67 @sleepisfortheweakpooh @ilxina @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @misscaller06 @etherealinthewoods

[astrogre]

What gifts to buy for each Venus sign

Christmas is among us, my favourite season and time of the year. Venus is the planet of love, by nature it can display what we like to receive from others but if you don’t know their Venus or the house it’s in you can try to look at the persons Sun sign instead but Venus is ideal.

A gift based on their:

Sun sign will make them feel seen and like you know them well, it will be a gift they may appreciate

Venus sign is all they’ve ever desired it’s the pinnacle of their ideal gift. Especially as Venus represents how we like to receive and experience love

Aries/ 1H Venus

Gym membership, running shoes, thrill seeking experiences like tickets to bungee jumping, rock climbing, a skydiving event, gym outfit, tickets to their favourite artist, tickets to festival, cool lighter, archery classes, tickets to sports games, a shirt with their teams logo or merch from their favourite artists, scissors set, cooking tools, hair styling products like hairspray, hair dye, Fitbit/apple watch, knives set, sports gear, heavy bass headphones, tickets for those room smashing experiences, take them clay pigeon shooting, family destroying board games like Risk or Catan, diy tattoo kit, diy piercing kit, theme park tickets.

Aries Venus are by nature thrill seekers, Aries is ruled by the head and has 1st house influences, they can certainly appreciate something that ignites passion, they are impulsive and quick by nature to pursue what they desire. They need gifts that match their decisive nature and to let out that pent up energy they have in them, I honestly think experiences are the best for them. Or a box of hair dye for their impulsive moments

Taurus/ 2H Venus

Hire a chef or take them to a really good restaurant for a 5 course meal that serves orgasmic food and has impeccable visuals/atmosphere OR you can even arrange a 7 course homemade meal with the finest of recipes! , fine jewellery adorned with a gemstone, culinary experiences, cooking classes, kitchenware, go to fragrantica.com and find a high quality perfume to give, premium home decor, art, antique items, antique furniture, comfortable cosy clothing, hot water bottle, gardening tools, plants, selection of seeds for their garden, diffuser, essential oils, desserts like baklava/ferro rocher, luxury goods, wellness retreat subscription, day at the spa, tea set, comfy velvet winter pillows and bed sheets

Oh my Taurus natives, they know how to break a bank for Christmas and if not they can enjoy luxury on a budget! They enjoy the finer things of life of course Venus ruled, they know how to induge in pleasures and satisfaction. Due to the earthy influence they have a green finger and a natural affinity with plants and gardening, they may love flowers or want to grow plants themselves. Taurus venuses are rather easy to gift, if you know them they usually have a vice, it may be sleep, food or pure laziness, get them something according to their vice and they will treasure it.

Gemini/ 3H Venus

Really cool stationary, Spotify subscription, comedy show tickets, books from their favourite genre, a notebook, Grammarly subscription, cards against humanity board game, Duolingo subscription, multiplayer games, home kit recording studio, language learning stuff, calligraphy classes, kindle, portable car charger, Bluetooth speaker, karaoke machine, suitcase, travel accessories, a musical instrument, sealing wax kit, creative hobby supplies, microphone, podcasting equipment, audio editing software, a car, vr headset, Nintendo online subscription, Netflix/HBO/youtube/crunchyroll subscription

Gemini rules communication, short journeys and social engagement. Blessing these natives with tools to enhance their pleasant hobbies will make them swoon in gratitude, if you want to get them something make it engaging and whimsical. These natives are ruled by mercury and always welcome something that requires the mind.

Cancer/ 4H Venus

A cooking set, baking set, comfort food, commission artwork of the family, family photos, some really nice home decor, a keepsake/musical box adorned with velvets and soft materials that will store sentimental objects, a locket necklace, family recipe book make a recipe book of all their favourite foods and some foods you know they’d like, soft fluffy blanket, the family heirloom, hand crafted quilt, hand painted ceramic mug, animal crossing game, sims 4 game, games relating to the home, bring and fly in family that are far away as a surprise and cook their favourite meal together, household utilities, lush bath products, a personal chef for a day, a personal butler for a day, custom family tree art, ancestry DNA kit (please be careful though once you use them they keep your data and if they get hacked your information is out there), home movie night, comfy slippers and pyjamas, family board games, this christmas make them Christmas dinner this time.

Cancer rules the home and there’s nothing more appreciated by a cancer Venus than things that remind them of this. They are by nature expressive and nurturing, this time let them be pampered!

Leo/ 5H Venus

Hair care products, gift card for their favorite store, make them an edit no joke like a TikTok edit that makes them look really cool, one of those light up mirrors or a pretty handheld one if they don’t have one already, book them a photoshoot together if they don’t like the camera maybe post them on your social media and show affection for these bold natives, theatre tickets, bold sunglasses, luxury watch, good jewellery, VIP experiences like backstage passes or reservation to exclusive invite only restaurants, designer clothing that is a prestigious brand they love, commission style artwork, make them a playlist of songs that reminds you of them, fine wine, personalised fragrance creation that allows them to create their own signature fragrance, personalised makeup makeover, hire a stylist for them

A perfect gift for Leo’s need to have an element of self expression, luxury and incorporate their personality that garners attention from peers. They need a gift that makes them feel special, something tailored specifically for them that cannot be gifted to anyone else. Personalised gifts do well either this placement too. When I think of these natives I just think of that Meghan Trainor music video “Me Too” watch that and you’ll get their vibe.

Virgo/ 6H Venus

Skincare products, a blender for smoothies, lots of cleaning products, multi purpose aesthetic storage containers, Quora or chat gpt subscription (these guys like to be well informed), give them scientifically researched bath products that have all that vitamin breakdown qualities, make them a notion template to help them plan, quality office supplies like a desk organiser or chair, practical fitness gear like a yoga mat, a fitness tracker, get them a personal nutritionist, tailored meal prep services, bookshelf organiser system, a stylish briefcase, home office makeover (BUT PLEASE GET THEIR PERMISSION FIRST), online course subscription, digital subscription to news feed, you can never go wrong with practical things, an ikea haul, Costco membership, minimalist decor, multi vitamins, a precision watch, set of labelling and sorting tools, a neat tidy chess board, get them a nice little pet, honestly for some reason whenever I think of Virgos I think of matcha. Get them something matcha based.

Virgo Venus natives need gifts that resemble their routine and organisation, they can be rather difficult to purchase for since they have such a specific taste in mind. Gift cards are practical for them but they really need something that allows them to be more prepared. Take them out for comparison price shopping like say if you want to get them a sofa tell them you’ll take them out to Costco, Amazon, ikea, and compare the best ones. They are also very clean and efficient.

Libra Venus/ 7H Venus

Trending Make up like the fenty hot chocolit heat lip gloss, Korean skincare products, beautiful piece of art, a wedding ring 😏, bouquet of flowers, take them to a beautiful botanical garden, fashionable accessories like a silk scarf, books and courses on design, take them to a couples romantic date, a couples workshop, write them a love letter, museum date, tickets to an art exhibition, fine dining, an astrology synastry reading, if they’re single set up a blind date with someone who you KNOW they would like (make sure they’re handsome/pretty), couples retreat, love coach Patreon subscription, pottery/painting classes, relationship podcast subscription, relationship psychology books, fine fragrance/cologne

Libra is ruled by Venus and 7th house, all things related to love beauty and pleasure align with this native, even if they are single they have a natural gift for delving into relationships. Make sure that whatever gift you give them it is pleasing and sensual

Scorpio/ 8H Venus

Intimate gifts, a psychological crime documentary playlist like Epstein island documentary or YouTubers who speak of renowned cult leaders, personalised astrology reading, a dark seductive fragrance, dark artwork, dominance and submission guide book, shadow work journal with a lock on it, dark poetry and literature, escape room adventure tickets, monopoly game, dungeons and dragons game equipment, bdsm accessories, personalised erotic art, leather/latex clothing, bonding activities, empowering books like 48 Laws of Power, martial arts training, taxidermy, personal development workshops, intense workout equipment like a punching bag, chess, daggers, locks on their door or for their belongings like installing a lock for their drawers, buy them a ring camera and subscription, wine tasting experience

Give them something sultry and deep, it has to be psychological and empowering. They are not impressed by superficial gifts that mean nothing to them. They really like gifts that allow them to explore their nature and the darker aspects of existence.

Sagittarius/ 9H Venus

A scratch off map that allows you to scratch off countries you’ve been to, a surprise holiday where you take them abroad, Duolingo subscription, a wanderlust journal for them to document their experiences, passport accessories, an electric guitar, drums, take them to a fireworks display or do one at home for them, a telescope, a drone, binoculars, philosophical books or religious books based on their own beliefs and religion, running shoes, horse riding in the sunset experience, musical instruments, motivational and positive affirmations book or make some for them yourself, a book collection of all their motivational and positive messages they have said, a compass, pay for their tuition for a course they’ve always wanted, traveling stuff like suitcases, pillow for travelling, a portable flask, a disposable camera, a Polaroid camera, a tent, tickets to a cultural festival, hiking gear, skiing gear, camping gear, sketchbook, a donation in their name

Sagittarius Venus and 9H venuses love the concept of exploration whether it be in the mind or physically, the best gift you could give them is one that allows them to take in so much culture, information and experiences.

Capricorn/ 10H Venus

Customisable credit card (CUCU is a good site for this), a nice power suit like business attire, vintage pocket calculator, cufflinks or a tie, formal shoes, pay for their CV to be analysed by professionals in their industry, elegant timeless clothing and jewellery, make them business cards, get them a corporate slave (an assistant will do), pay for business class flights for their next trip abroad, project management courses, tickets to Ted Talk event, take them to and big them up at networking and entrepreneurial opportunities, a sleek desk, submit their work for trophies and awards, quality furniture, Starbucks or their fave coffee place gift cards, a fountain pen, personalised desk name plate, professional photoshoot, designer accessories like a Swiss watch, leather wallet, cheque book, pay for a professional calligrapher to design their signature, time management software

Our sweet cap Venuses and 10Hers need their professional acknowledgment, give them anything timeless and a way for them to better themselves. They love being the best of the best so give them things that support their ambitions.

Aquarius/ 11H Venus

A 3D printer, high tech phone, a gamer console, smart home device like Alexa, chat gpt subscription, AI art pieces of them, rubix cube, VR headset, bespoke one of a kind art piece, tickets to a science technology conference or musem, networking events, phone case, futuristic home decor, membership to an niche club their interested in, mini indoor garden like a plant terrarium, pay for an astronomy stargazing experience for them, alt clothing, goal setting journal, a camaraderie for their friendships can be a bracelet for an example, tickets to a unique workshop according to their niche interests, video editing software, a unique invention prototype for the industry their interested in say if it were cars then a mini Tesla or something, volunteer together, design software, film festival tickets, social cause merchandise, unique fashion piece, astronomy kit, an AI boyfriend or girlfriend, take them a Ted talk.

Always remember the specific niche interests of these natives they like things that are very niche and so sometimes asking them is actually the best thing to do. But make sure it’s something they’re passionate about not all of these natives live tech but they certainly are innovative.

Pisces/ 12H Venus

Seashell necklace, watercolour paints, fantasy book collection, their favourite mangas, handmade artwork, stained glass window art, dream interpretation book, flowerpedia book, vinyls, yoga mat, contact lenses, tickets to their favourite artist like mitski or the sort, create a playlist for them that’s about fantasy and imagination, they might like Disney consider taking them to Disneyland, windchime, subscription to mindfulness app, astrology book, go to the aquarium together, windchimes, art supplies, a dream journal, sound healing instruments, pay for their spiritual retreat, zen garden decor, a mystical music box, water fountain, take them to a mesmerising body of water, prayer mats, diary, write them a heartfelt letter of how amazing they are, take them to a nature retreat, wearable art

Dreamy imaginative gifts would be perfect for these people, they need gifts that allow them to appreciate their escape world where they have a reality that’s just better than here. Give them things that are as beautiful as their inner world.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Not that they would need to (except Angeal), but how do Angeal, Sephiroth, Genesis, and Zack handle Black Friday shopping?

Angeal: Treats it like a competitive sport. Arrives with a precise list, coupons, and a store map marked with tactical positions. He starts off polite and methodical until he spots the home goods section. The moment someone reaches for the last set of premium cotton towels, his honor code evaporates. "Those are 800 thread count, and they're MINE." He's seen bodyslaming people into shelf displays over discount coffee mugs.

Zack: Returns to HQ at 4 AM clutching a shiny new Play Station, covered in blood and sporting a black eye but grinning maniacally.

Lazard: Who's blood is that?? Zack: I GOT THE NEW PLAYSTATION! Lazard: WHO'S BLOOD IS THAT?? Zack: 70% OFF!!

Genesis: Sneers at Black Friday as "peasant behavior" until his favorite rare bookstore announces their sale. He's caught camping outside 48 hours early in a luxury tent, complete with a wine cooler and portable reading lamp. He yells at people. He insults people. He bites people. And then he leaves with three copies of books he already owns "because the binding is slightly different."

Sephiroth: Strolls in at peak hours, and the crowd parts like the sea. He casually picks up whatever he wants while people stare in awe. Later, he keeps showing Angeal his receipts and bragging about the steals. Angeal considers violence.

Sephiroth: 80% off this coffee maker. Angeal: *eye twitching* Sephiroth: They also gave me an additional discount. And this free gift card. Angeal, who fought three people for his coffee maker: That's... that's not how Black Friday works. Sephiroth: They gave me an air-fryer for free. Angeal: FUCK YOU

[oliviaglumac]

Timeless

Pairing : George Harrison x fem!reader

Requested : yes

Genre : fluff

Summary : helping your boyfriend and his bandmates with mostly everything but mainly their music

“Y/n, I need your help,” my boyfriend of just over a year said, glancing up from his notepad.

“What can I help you with?” I asked, moving closer.

“I just don’t know what to write. I don’t know what to rhyme,” he said, his brows furrowed in frustration.

“Well, George, it doesn’t have to rhyme to sound good,” I replied, picking up a pen from his desk.

“Yeah, but I want it to,” he insisted, his lips curving into a small pout.

I leaned over to read what he had written so far, then jotted down a suggestion: “But till she’s here, please don’t come near—just stay away.” After a moment, I added, “I’ll let you know when she’s come home, until that day.”

An hour later, we’d finished the song. George and I had moved on to working out the melody, bouncing ideas back and forth like we’d done a hundred times before.

“George, are you ready?” I called out, standing by the door with my bags in hand. We were about to leave for America, and I was practically buzzing with excitement.

“I’m coming, dear!” he shouted back.

On the plane, Ringo was glued to the window. “Wow, look at all those birds,” he said.

“Well, what’d you expect? We’re good-looking,” Paul quipped, earning a laugh from everyone.

Disembarking from the plane was overwhelming. The screaming fans were deafening, yet it filled me with pride. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of awe for George, Paul, John, and Ringo. They’d come so far from those smoky gigs at the Cavern Club.

At the airport, the boys were bombarded with questions from the press. I found a quiet seat in the back, content to watch the chaos unfold.

The interviews were hilarious, the boys answering with their usual mix of charm and mischief. But one question made my ears perk up.

“What do you think about Y/n and all she’s done for the band?” a reporter asked.

George’s face lit up. “Oh, wow. I mean, she’s wonderful. She helps us with writing, does backup vocals sometimes, and keeps us sane. She’s a great help to the band—we love having her around. Well, especially me.”

His words sent a warm, familiar flutter through my chest. It was the same feeling I had when we’d first fallen in love.

The hotel was unlike anything we’d ever seen—pure luxury.

“Look at these bathrooms!” John exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“That’s a rather silly thing to get excited about,” I teased, laughing.

Paul chimed in, his ear pressed to a portable radio. “I mean, we’ve got so many radio stations now. It’s amazing!”

Ringo, on the phone with a radio station, waved me over, but I stayed back, snapping photos of the boys. Some were candid, some posed, and some just pure silliness.

The day of the Ed Sullivan Show had arrived.

“Y/n, I’m nervous,” George admitted as I fixed his hair backstage.

“You have nothing to be scared about,” I reassured him. “Just imagine the Cavern Club.”

“That’s an odd place to imagine,” he said with a chuckle.

“You know what I mean, silly. You’ll be amazing, as always.”

His nervous smile softened into something more confident, and he nodded.

I watched their performance on a tiny TV in their dressing room. My heart swelled with pride.

When the boys returned, the room was filled with laughter and excited chatter. George came straight to me.

“Well? How’d I do?” he asked, his eyes sparkling.

“Absolutely amazing,” I said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Get a room!” Ringo teased, making everyone laugh.

George grinned before pulling me into a kiss.

“Ewww,” the other three chorused, making me laugh even harder.

“You’re all so immature,” I said, shaking my head.

“Yeah, but you love us,” John said with a smirk.

“I wouldn’t say love. That’s a strong word,” I teased.

“Hey!” Ringo protested, lightly tapping my arm.

On the train to D.C., George and I began working on another song.

“You know, Y/n, I think you should start writing your own music,” he said out of the blue.

“Me? Never. I’ll just ride on your coattails,” I joked, making him laugh.

“No, I’m serious,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “You’re a great writer, and you’ve got a beautiful voice.”

“I don’t know, George. I’m not cut out for the rockstar life. I am cut out for the rockstar girlfriend life, though,” I teased.

“Well, think about it,” he said, pressing a kiss to my temple.

Arriving in D.C. was just as chaotic as stepping off the plane, if not more so. The hotel was somehow even grander than the last.

“Is this really our life now?” John asked, looking around in disbelief.

“Why are you complaining?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m not complaining—just amazed,” he replied.

I was working on something for the boys, humming to myself, when Ringo walked by. He froze mid-step, listening.

“Y/n, wow. I’ve heard you sing before, but never by yourself,” he said, clearly impressed.

“Did George put you up to this?” I asked, narrowing my eyes playfully.

“No, I mean it,” he said. “You’ve got an amazing voice.”

“Thanks,” I said, my cheeks warming.

In the studio, the boys were already hard at work on their next album. I was doing backup vocals for a few songs when something in the lyrics caught my attention.

“Wait, John,” I said, pointing to a line. “Instead of this, I think ‘I’ll try to make it shine’ would sound better.”

He raised an eyebrow but grabbed a pen and made the change.

“You know, Y/n, it’s so nice having you around,” George said, his voice soft but sincere.

“I know,” I replied with a grin.

[v-era-18]

Red Licorice: Chapter 11 - Black Widow

“You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do!” - (Y/n) (L/n) 

11

(Y/n) rushed into her home filled with elation for the first time in weeks. Glancing along the clock in the living room corner, she looked to see the time. At three thirty-six pm, she had about three hours to wash, shave, and lightly press her hair out. Now normally the girl was reluctant to bring out the hot comb and curlers, but for god's sake did she not want this moment to show out for her crush to pass her by.

And possibly make a certain Macher's eyes wander towards her. Of course, she wouldn't admit it out loud though. 

Moving through the kitchen she whipped out a fresh banana from the fridge along with two eggs and mayo. Placing the items on the table, she hurried to the bathroom pulling out an array of hair products for her scalp Blue Magic and Hot Six Oil Before grabbing the portable hair dryer. Making sure she had all the materials she began mixing the hair mask in a bowl on the kitchen counter, not only would this ensure more stretch of her hair for her silk press, but it would also add extra shine as well. 

While dispersing and covering sections of the mask unto her hair, she quickly went over the various items in her closet in her head. What the hell was she supposed to wear at a party? It would be her first time at a house party and she wanted to make sure she was doing everything right. Maybe she should wear the skirt again. As she thought about it she quickly dismissed it, she didn't want the others to think she didn't have any more clothes. The goal was to most definitely wear something eye catching, irresistible to the male gaze. 

Thinking back to her father’s vintage worn out shirts, there was an oversized tee that was faded black with a baseball tee, and remembering the dusty blue daisy dukes from her mother that could complete the look. Maybe she could cut the shirt and crop it like she's always done. Firm in her decision she went back to her hair making sure it was fully covered before setting up a hot comb in the kitchen with heat protectant. The plan was to press her hair to silk threads to last, so that way it'll be nice and fresh for the party.

(Y/N) entered the darkened bathroom, closing the door swiftly behind her. Switching on the bathroom light, the built-in shower radio crackled to life, filling the small space with the smooth melody of an old R&B song. The raven-haired girl stared at her reflection briefly, the lyrics of the song echoing in her mind: 

The girl is mine.

��The familiar scent of Nag Champa incense, a relic from the metaphysical store her mother used to frequent before her untimely demise, filled the air, adding a comforting yet bittersweet touch to the room.

She sighed deeply, pulling her hair into a loose bun to keep it out of the way. This afternoon was a timely transformation, containing a ritual she both dreaded and cherished. Wash Day. She turned on the shower, waiting for the water to reach the perfect temperature, steam beginning to fill the room.

(Y/N) stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her skin, washing away the stress of the day. She reached for her favorite shampoo, working it into her scalp with practiced ease. The rich lather and the soothing scent of lavender filled her senses. Next, she applied a generous amount of conditioner, detangling her curls with a wide-toothed comb. Each stroke felt like a gentle caress, unraveling the knots not just in her hair, but in her mind as well.

After rinsing out the conditioner, she reached for her body wash, a luxurious shea butter blend. She massaged it into her skin, reveling in the creamy texture and the way it left her skin feeling soft and hydrated. The shower water flowed over her, creating a symphony of splashing sounds that combined with the music from the radio, creating a serene atmosphere.

With her skin thoroughly cleansed, (Y/N) carefully shaved her legs and underarms, the razor gliding smoothly over her skin thanks to the rich lather. The process was almost meditative, each motion deliberate and calming. Once finished, she rinsed off and turned off the water, stepping out into the steam-filled bathroom.

She patted her skin dry with a plush towel, the scent of the Nag Champa incense still lingering in the air. (Y/N) then applied her favorite body oil, a mixture of coconut and jojoba oils, working it into her skin with gentle, circular motions. The oil left her skin glowing and deeply moisturized. She followed up with a thick layer of cocoa butter lotion, sealing in the moisture and leaving her skin feeling silky smooth.

Next came her hair. (Y/N) unraveled her bun and divided her hair into sections, applying a leave-in conditioner and heat protectant. She used a blow dryer with a comb  attachment, carefully drying each section. The heat was just right, transforming her wet curls into soft, wavy tendrils landing on towards her mid back.

The routine was almost complete when the shrill ring of the phone cut through the peaceful atmosphere. It came from the kitchen, startling (Y/N). She froze, the sound jarring against the serene atmosphere  she had just created. The phone rang again, insistently. There was a brief toil of her decision weighing down on her currently, the last couple of times she answered the phone it didn't bode well for her in the end. The only result of a fairly ‘happy ending’ was with the masked man holding her and touching the most intimate parts of her body. 

At first she opted to just ignore it, continuing her routine starting to plug in her curlers and securing her hair with silver clips. They were split off into groups of four, freshly blown out hair ready to be turned into silky threads. She began to grab her hot comb when the sharp sound of the phone stung her ears once more.The telltale ring of the house phone set her heart in a frenzy. As her heart hammered in her chest, she glanced at the door of the bathroom weighing her options. It was only the afternoon, not even six o'clock yet, still bright outside. There was plenty of light to deem it safe for now.  Wrapping herself in her towel, she hurried out of the bathroom, fresh oil glistening on her skin. As she approached the kitchen, the ringing seemed louder, more urgent. She hesitantly picked up the phone, her breath bated with anticipation. 

"Hello?" she answered, her voice trembling slightly. The line crackled for a moment, and then there was silence. She strained to hear, but there was only the faint sound of static. “Hello? Aunt Gia is that you?” 

There was shuffling over the phone along with the sound of a hushed voice quite distant from the mouth piece. The clawing feeling of the need to hang up started to rise within her, after the past two days she really shouldn’t be answering any phone calls. Nerves rising she tried to be rational, maybe it was one of her friends nervous to check in on her after everything that happened this morning. There was also the possibility of her aunt wanting to check in on her knowing that she should be home by now, or possibly Randy making sure about the time. 

Honestly the killer would have to be stupid to call her in broad daylight. So with a soft sigh the girl tried one more time. 

“Randy is that you–,”

“IF YOU MENTION THAT IDIOT IN MY PRECENCE AGAIN I WILL SLIT HIS FUCKING THROAT UNDERSTAND?!” 

(Y/n) froze on the spot, her heart accelerating at an abnormal pace as she quickly covered herself more in the towel, feeling a familiarity of the night terror from the other night. Feeling the heated shame swell within her with being so careless she turned her head back and forth, looking around the kitchen and living area to see anything out of place. It was horrible that she was wearing even less clothing than the nightmare she had before, the last thing she wanted was a repetition of…. dubious affection. She quickly took notice of the knife's all being within the rack still untouched from the morning breakfast Gia cooked her this morning. Grabbing one quickly, she made way to the living room, hovering slightly to the front door, just in case she needed to make a quick run for it. 

“I said, do you understand (Y/n)?” The killer growled into the phone. 

The girl began to slowly nod only to realize that he couldn't see her, or at least she hoped not, and proceeded to answer, “Y-yes…I understand.” 

“Good girl,” She heard the praise over the phone causing her thighs to clench slightly, taking note that she was still very much naked underneath her towel. Humiliation and shame emerged from the reactions her body emitted, her core starting to throb along with the heated condensation down below. Swallowing hard, she gripped the knife tighter, grounding herself back to the current situation. “Now that we've gotten the unpleasantries out of the way, I would like to apologize for my behavior in the bathroom two nights ago–” 

“Is this some kind of joke?” She uttered into the phone, her frustration rising. The feeling of deja vu grew strong, the recounter of the vivid sleep situation that continued to haunt her was now occurring in real time. The shower, the phone call, the apology….the only thing missing was the couch.  “I've already lived this scenario…..where are you? I'm going to call the police and make a run for it, clothes or not–“

“You don’t have any clothes on? What an interesting fact to share with a killer over the phone ya little tease.” 

(Y/n) paused with her hand on the door, simply frozen in place. How was she making so many dumb mistakes? Telling the killer that she was scantily clothed? Why did she make the assumption that he could even see her? Because in the dream he was within the house? Was her fear really clouding her judgment? 

“You…you can't see me?” 

“If it makes you feel better I unfortunately can’t, I have ….other things to attend to at the moment.” The soothing voice of the male drew her in, a weight slowly leaving her shoulders at the brief confession. It was a good thing he couldn’t see her, and even to throw in the fact that he wasn't there as well. “Although it doesn't mean I don't want to see you any less precious. Don't get yourself all riled up now, we're just having a conversation.”

“A conversation? Why? What do you want from me? Listen if I said or did anything the past to warrant this I’m so sorry–” 

“Woah. Slow down, you never did anything wrong. In fact, out of the whole town you seem to have a good head on your shoulders…hence why I have a request.” 

(Y/n) scoffed bitterly, “You're asking me for something after killing my best friend? Do you hear how ridiculous that is?!” 

(Y/n) felt herself shake slightly in her towel, her nerves had caused her to quickly make an error regarding the simple information spewed from her lips. Her face was warm, eyes beginning to glass over in fear for what the strange man wanted from her. One minute it seemed as though he wanted to kill her easy and simple. Now he was trying to soothe and apologize for his behavior? As if his apology would excuse the death of Casey and near death experiences of her and Sidney. Just what the hell was going through the mind of this ghost faced killer? 

“When you put it like that you do have a point sweetheart, although it wasn't my intention to scare you…let's remind ourselves…who attacked first and got in the way.” 

“Wha-what do you mean–”

“ You aren’t my target….you just happen to place yourself at the scene of the crime. Hence why I’m getting to the other point as to why I’m calling.” The man growled into the phone, “Don’t go to Machers Party tonight.” 

The girl paused for a second, her heart pumping, “Who said I was going tonight? How do you know I was even invited?” (Y/n) was starting to grow weary with just how much the male knew about her. First he accused her of getting in the way of Sidney’s murder claiming she’s not a target, now he’s telling her not to go to Stu’s house for the party? 

Just what did this guy want from her?

A part of her wants to feel thankful that she wasn’t on the man’s hit list, however her brow furrowed in worry as to why he specifically chose to spare her. What could she have done to warrant such attention from the mysterious male either way? Did she express kindness to him and decided to press it forward? 

The girl's mind wandered to the night in the bathroom. The cool sensation of the knife dragging up her thigh, the protruding length constricted in his pants brushing against her-

“Earth to (Y/n)! Didja hear me?”

“Huh?”

The male scoffed impatiently on the other end of the line, “I said it doesn't matter how I know, you’re not going. Now you're going to call that nerd Meeks and tell him you’re no longer going after this call. You’re going to stay your pretty like behind home and–”

“No.”

There was a pause. 

“No?” The strange man's tone seemed to mock (Y/N)’s abrupt rejection of staying . 

“What did you just say (N/n)?” His playful tone transformed into a malicious warning. However the teen girl gripped the cord in her grasp tightly, her pink palms turning white with vengeance. 

She wasn’t going to allow the killer the satisfaction of bossing her around. Creep or not. She knew what he was doing, he wanted her to let her guard down, to believe that he’s on her side and that he means no harm. Only for him to come into her home later and kill or possibly rape her. As a horror fanatic she wasn’t dumb. What kind of killer who works alone as well as his stature comes into a party full of teens and starts killing them all? He wasn’t tall or as big as Micheal Myers or Jason Vorhees. He’d be walking into a suicide mission, the teens at the party would overrule him easily and he would be caught by the police within the next few minutes with them on patrol around Woodsburro. 

“Nice try, I’m not falling for that trick! I will admit you had me for a second, wanting me to believe you meant me no harm so I would stay  home so you would have the opportunity to kill me!” Her voice grew louder and more confident with each sentence spewing from her lips in distaste, “I’m done letting people tell me what to do! You sure as hell won’t tell me what to do! ”

The masked man made an uncomfortable sound, one that made her heart thump in her ears with how desperate the tone initially sounded as it vibrated against her ear canal. “Precious, please just listen–”

“No! Everyone has had a chance to speak for me! It’s time for my moment to take a stand for myself, I’m going to that party! I might even get drunk and make out with a guy or two while I’m at it!” The proclamation was a bold one, one to simply rile the dangerous masked man on the other side for good measure to display how serious she was about going. A part of her wanted the imagery to spark something in the male, the one that seemed to have a connection to her somehow on the other end. 

“WHAT DID YOU JUST–”

In fear and newfound determination (Y/n) abruptly hung up the phone silencing the killer's response to her proclamation. For two minutes she stood there staring at the phone, wondering if she made the biggest mistake in her entire life-or the most life changing. She just got done telling off a serial killer in order to go to her first house party, and oddly–it felt so good.

She gave it another three minutes to see if the masked man would call again before heavinging a sigh of satisfaction. He possibly was in a fit of rage at her at the moment— after all he did seem like the type that didn't want to be spoken over. Not only that if he truly was planning something tonight, he wouldn’t be able to follow through with his plans due to her being there, a double edge sword waiting to slay him at each point. Looking around the house to make sure there wasn't anything odd and out of place, she deemed the house safe enough for her to finish off her routine. Due to the phone call she had an hour and thirty minutes left to get ready. 

Now, where was she?

Adjusting her towel in the kitchen, she sassed walked her way back to her room in elation for the second time this week. Head seat on giving herself a night she wouldn't forget as well as her peers. 

If only she knew she was indeed correct, this wasn't going to be a night she was never going to forget as long as she lived.

~ ☿ ~

Sidney rested her head against the window of the police cruiser. The town was currently desolate, only a few people here and there grabbing what they needed before the new impending curfew. Signs were hung up in window sills in explanation, turns out business owners were taking things seriously as well, and who could blame them? A killer was at large and it could be anyone. The last thing they want to do is be open and they come in blazing for a slice or dice. 

“God look at this place,” Sidney grimaced, “it's The Town That Dreaded Sundown.” 

Dewy chuckled to make light of dark circumstances, “Hey, I saw that movie. Based on a true story, ‘bout some killer in Texas.” 

“Hey Sid, just think if they make a movie about this, who's gonna play you?” Tatum smiled. The strawberry blonde was trying to make light of current events happening lately, Stu hasn’t been answering her calls after the invitation in the courtyard, and she basically had to endure evil looks from many students today in light of things. She honestly could feel the weight of her decisions weighing down on her. 

Tatum didn't want to be viewed as the girl who went behind her friends back and slept with their boyfriends, nor the one that lashes out because of her insecurities. The girl did have many faults of her own to deal with, many including her own self esteem, but  Casey’s dairy added more problems than she could deal with. And was that was putting things lightly 

What happened to her? She used to be okay with just being herself, dressing up and ready to hang out with friends. When did she start becoming boy crazy and having a vendetta against her two friends? The jealousy and malice were things developed over time against (Y/n) and Casey. They seemed to have so much, loving figures, adoring friends, beauty….

Even though (Y/n) never looked at her potential fully, it was no secret she was beautiful. So when Tatum assessed the way Stu watched her over and over again, it clicked but she didn't want to affirm it. She didn't want to know that the girl harbored her crush's heart, that he was secretly wishing it was her he was having sex with, kissing, loving on without actually saying the words back to her. 

“Oh god no…..,” Sidney whispered, “Don’t bring that idea up to (Y/n), she most definitely would tell me the details.” The brunette paused, watching her best friend's smile drop instantly at the girl's name. She winched realizing her mistake of salted wounds still being harbored. 

“A shit-shoot, I’m sorry Tatum-” 

“There's nothing to be sorry about ....I did this to myself. I got in the way and now,” She turned to Sidney, a sad expression etched upon her lips, “I have to face the repercussions.” 

Dewy peered through the mirror sadly at her sister. He wished there was only more he could do for her suffering but what could he do? Half of the things she was referring to he hadn't experienced himself. 

He brings the car to a stop in front of the police station, turning around and giving the girls the most brotherly smile he can muster for the situation. “Well to continue our conversations from before,” He said turning to Sid, “I see you as a young Meg Ryan myself.” 

Sidney offered a small upturn of the lips in  gratitude, “Thanks Dewey, but with my luck they’d cast Tori Spelling.” 

The two girls get out of the car making their way to the supermarket across the street. The Grocery store was a buzz for many teens grabbing quick snacks and beers for an apparent occasion. Sideny could hear the hustle and bustle about horror movies as well as the documentary marathon. The two grab a buggy from the bin before making their way through the sliding glass doors.  Unfortunately for Tatum it was the news about something else that drew her attention. 

“What should we wear to the party tonight? I'm pretty sure Evan will be there, after all it's not everyday Macher throws a party..” A brunette with glasses whispered to her redheaded friend over by the ice cream department they were passing. 

Yes, right the party….

The one Stu invited them to show no hard feelings. The only reason Tatum grew interested was the promise to talk things over there with him. Why? A small part of her hoped for the truth: an explanation as to why things fell apart between the two of them so fast. Although the girl assertions to the male with being responsible for the current scandal, she simply didn't want to acknowledge her part in the drama. 

Sidney looks at Tatum, her face growing queasy, “Do you think Billy will be there tonight?” 

“He better not be, although I didn't tell Stu to keep his mouth shut when I had the chance, I think we can live without “ Everybody's All American” for one night.” Tatum snided looking at a pair of chips before making her way down the aisle.  

The girls started piling in a whole bunch of junk food and treats for the night. Taking note of the long line of teens at the cash register, due to the curfew the store would be closing in a few minutes. 

Sidney’s mind traveled back to a certain girl with curly hair, “Do you think (Y/n) will be there?” 

Tatum paused for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest before responding, “(Y/n) and parties don’t go together. We all know that.” 

The brunette started to nod in agreement but thought better of it, “But what if she decides to come? Stu did invite us out as an apologie was well you know, wouldn't it make sense he convinced her as well—” 

“Do you honestly think after us being shit friends that she would actually want to be around us?” The strawberry blonde hissed with venom, her eyes seemed steamy at the thought of the curly headed girl staring at her, “I-I mean after what I did? After what me and Stu did? After what me and you did?!” 

Sidney frowned and paused with a two-liter of Pepsi in her arms, “What happened that night at that sleepover wasn't my idea, let's be clear about that.” 

It was true. Tatum was the one who decided to come up with the plan to corner (Y/n) in the first place, Sidney only had a few small concerns with her and Billy’s friendship, but the way Tatum made it seem like the curly girl had ill intentions. Sidney will admit that she went along with it, but she honestly thought it would be discussed in a more appropriate manner. Never did she want the outcome to happen that night the way it did with (Y/n) crying into Casey’s arms the rest of the night. The girl was a lot of things with her friends, some might even consider her a follower at some moments. However, this discussion and the way it was headed between the two of them had to set matters straight. 

Sidney loved Tatum, with her whole heart and soul; but she needed to learn to take accountability. 

Tatum paused the cart, her face growing pink, “You had concerns just like me! I thought it was the right thing to do!” 

“Your jealousy made you cloud your judgment–” 

“I’m not jealous!”

Onlookers in the store stopped and paused looking over at the two girls. Sidney stiffened watching the attention being drawn to the two of them before hearing the faint whispers. Great, the last thing she wanted was for word to get around about her and Tatum having a disagreement. 

Sighing and growing tired of her friend's display of fanatics, Sidney grabbed the cart from the blonde and made way to the line. It seemed like a moment for Tatum to recollect herself before following, wrapping her arms around herself in comfort. A few girls were glancing over, whispers exchanged with giggles. 

Changing the subject back to herself, Sidney whispered  “Billy’s right you know. Whenever he touches me I just can't relax.”

Tatum slightly rolled her eyes, “So you have a few intimacy issues as a result of your mother’s  untimely death.” Despite the tense air between the two she proceeds to place a comforting hand on the girl's shoulder, “It’s no big deal. You’ll thaw it out.” 

“Yeah, but he has been so patient with me you know with all the sex stuff. How many guys would put up with a girlfriend who’s sexually anorexic?” 

“Randy…” The blonde uttered. 

“Huh?” 

“Billy and his penis don't deserve you, all right?” Tatum spoke up disregarding her thought a moment earlier. “If sex is the thing stopping your relationship then maybe….” 

Sideny glanced at her best friend, her heart hammering—waiting for the words she was anticipating from her friend's mouth “Then maybe?”

“Then maybe you two should bring your items forward,” A checkout lady cut into the conversation, “We close in five, and there's a line behind you.” 

The two girls' faces grew warm and quickly proceeded to place their items quickly onto the checkout counter. 

The elderly woman shook her head, displeased, “Kids these days.” 

~ ☿ ~

Dewey stalked up to the station quickly, trying his best to check in with the sergeant before picking up the two girls in time for curfew. It had honestly been a long day after so many things were happening down at the police station.  After the many interviews from the press as well as the occasional suspect pointed here and there, it was safe to say the other officers had a lot of pressure on this particular case. 

A lot more than the past two large ones they had in the past might add.

Taking a puff out of his cigarette Sheriff Burke glared at the upcoming deputy, “Dewey? Where the hell have you been!” 

“I was keeping an eye on Sidney, uh…” The Sheriff looked down at Dewey's hands spotting the ice cream cone clearly displeased with the sight. If the male wasn't so concerned about his sister's best friend he wouldn't feel embarrassed, but putting theories together to figure out who the killer was worked him quite the appetite. To save face the deputy opted to distract his boss from his silly display, “Thought you quit?”

“I did.” Burke admitted, taking another long drag, “But damn it Dewey, Vital Phone just faxed us. Those calls are listed to Neil Prescott, Sidneys father. He made the calls with a cellular phone. It's been confirmed.” 

Dewey shook his head, taking a lick out of his ice cream in thought. There was no way Mr. Prescott would do something of this magnitude, especially to his own daughter. “There's no way his cellular coulda been cloned?”. Technology was advancing each day, and there was a possibility that the man was being framed with devices that could question his integrity. Although Neil had a big job and was a well respected man, there was always someone who looked down at him here and there. A now single dad trying to raise his daughter by his lonesome.

Sheriff  blew out smoke, frustrated, “There's more. Guess what tomorrow is. The anniversary of his wife's death.” Dewey pursed his lips together in understanding, the pieces were all there and laid out, “ We’ll keep the roadblocks and the curfew in effect through the night, if he's not picked up by morning, then we’ll do a house-to-house. Boy I hate to say it but Miss Weathers was onto something…even if she went about it in an illegal manner and disrupted the peace this morning’. ” 

Dewey nodded then paused, thinking back to a certain curly headed girl from before, “But sir, what does this have to do with (Y/n) (L/n)? The killer was reported to have  an infatuation with her. What would Neil Presscott want with her?” 

Burke looked around to make sure there's nobody around before continuing, “I have a theory, and I'm only able to pinpoint itr from what I've seen lately. Two weeks ago I saw Neil with another woman during lunch.. They seemed to be acquainted with one another.” 

Dewey cocked a brow, not fully understanding, “Another woman? What does the other woman have to do with (Y/n)” 

The Sheriff scoffed, “It has a lot to do with her if the lady is her legal guardian and family.” 

A gasp left the male's lips in shock and mortification, his ice cream being lowered in his hand. “You don't mean–” 

“You know exactly who I mean Dewey! The woman he’s been seeing is no other than Gia (L/n) , the sick bastard is getting rid of all obstacles! I'm going to get Montana to get her to our office in an hour.” 

Dewey shook his head in disagreement, the urge to debunk the theory of Gia being involved with the man itched at his tongue. Miss (L/n) was a friendly face to all who knew her, to even think that she could be involved with a criminal willingly for some grander scheme made his blood boil. What about the many times she brought freshly made cookies over the Riley home when Tatum wasn't feeling well, or the times she wished him luck with his training to become a deputy? Was the Sheriff really going to ignore the women's integrity?

What about her own niece (Y/n), the only living fraction she has left of her brother that was shot and killed in an alleyway? Did she honestly seem like the kind of woman who would set her whole world to be murdered in the mad man's house? For love? For new devotion?

There was no way Gia knew anything about Neil Prescott's involvement. Dewey knew that for a fact. 

“No, Gia would never Sheriff,” Dewey took a bite out of his cone, icecream the sickly sweet substance dribbled down his lips comically. Burke turned up his lip, the cigar moving long with his mood. “I mean, Miss (L/n) is one of the nicest laddies in town! What reason would she risk dealing with such a dangerous man…especially if..” 

The sheriff noticed the Deputies' hesitation to finish.  

“Now I'm not saying she's involved, Dewey. I'm stating facts about the man and what we know. Picking up Gia is a safety precaution and questions need to be done in order to see if we are missing anything.” Burke released a puff of smoke watching as stores started to close early for the evening. A particular couple is hurrying to their car, the pregnant wife lugging some groceries as best as she can while the husband loads everything up into the trunk. “For all we know he could be using her to make himself seem like a normal man trying to move on from his dead wife.” 

Dewey nodded, finishing off the cone before tossing it, his brows furring in thought, “Have you contacted the bureau?” 

“They believe he might be out of state by now. We’ll keep the roadblocks and curfew in effect through the night. If he's not picked up by morning—we’ll do house to house.” 

“You think he might still be in town? Maybe he's hiding off somewhere secluded?”

Burke huffed, “He'd have to be crazy. Where's Sidney and (Y/n)?”

Dewey frowned, thinking back to the horrendous cries of the afro haired girl from earlier that morning. “ Sidney’s with my sister, and (Y/n)...I haven't really seen her since this morning. Should I bring them in? Especially (Y/n), the girl has been through alot–”

“Hold off for now, just stay close to them. As far as (Y/n) is concerned don’t let her know anything pertaining to Gia. We don't want any assumptions to arise between the two.” 

It was understandable. The last thing they needed was wind about Gia to reach the teen girl and for her to think the worst. The bond between the two was obviously strong, a case like this and secrets being unearthed could shatter the foundation between two family members that was all that they have left. 

“Sidney and (Y/n) will be staying over Stu Machers tonight.” Dewey informed stiffly. 

“Watch em’. Don't let on— just keep your eye out.” 

“Yes Sir.”

[beldcm]

OPEN STARTER FOR : f/nb, late 30s/early 40s, jack's wife

WHO : jack kane (more info here)

WHERE : their home on the family ranch

SYNOPSIS : both muses have known each other since they were kids and are the definition of soulmates. jack works as the ranch foreman/cowboy on your muse's father's ranch. he's the stereotypical blue collared, hard working guy. your muse is quite the opposite, living a life of luxury, always wanting the best and never settling (their job is completely up to you!) the one thing they share in common? they both have a temper and aren't afraid of confrontation. your muse has been told they're difficult their entire life, always ready to fight before thinking. the only person ever who can actually deal with your muse is jack and despite the stubbornness, he gives your muse what they want. they're both extremely loyal to one another and will do anything for family. after a long day at work, jack goes back to the home they share on the ranch's land, ready for a quiet evening. however he finds his kitchen cluttered with empty bottles and drunk people. this is heavily inspired by beth dutton and rip wheeler in yellowstone because i crave their characters and dynamic!

"What the fuck is this?" Jack questioned, unamused by his wife's yet again care-free antics. The cowboy had been out in the stables since 6am, only returning just after 8pm. It didn't take a genius to see that it had been a long day, one that Jack was eager to put behind himself. All he wanted to do was shower, enjoy a quiet glass or two of whiskey before retiring to bed. But, it seemed like his wife had other ideas. The music played from a portable speaker in the kitchen, people laughed and danced as he stormed passed them all. Darting straight for his lover. Jack was a big guy, he was scary to most and quite frankly it was smart to be wary of him. He wasn't one to be messed with. The only person on the planet who ever got away with anything, was his partner. "Who the fuck are these people?" Jack questioned, trying his best to keep stern, but knowing his partner would immediately break through the tough exterior.

[kootiepatra]

#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 3: Tempest [in a Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster]

(inspired simultaneously way too literally and way too loosely by the idiom, "tempest in a teapot")

“You would give me instructions?” Tataru Taru’s incredulous laughter rang throughout the hall. “I assure you, Wedge, this receptionist has brewed more than a few pots of tea in her time.”

Wedge’s face went red as he feared she had taken offense. “N-no, that’s not it at all… it is just…”

“Now, now, no need for all that. Why don’t you have yourself a seat and I’ll just pop this over the fire.”

“NO!” he cried out suddenly, in a strength of tone few had ever heard from the anxious engineer. The bustling activity in the Rising Stones’ common room ground to a halt, startled at his outburst. Everyone turned to look at him. One could have heard the drop of a pin.

The crimson in Wedge’s face deepened.

Tataru took it seriously. She stopped. She gave him a confused glance. Wedge offered a shy little wave to the rest of the Scions, hoping to encourage them to return to their own business. Thankfully, they did.

“It is not ornamental, is it?” Tataru asked him, as the room went back to normal.

Wedge sighed a breath of relief. “No. It is not ornamental—it is magitek.”

“Is it indeed? Fancy that! But… Magitek? In a kettle?”

“I call it the Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster,” he replied, puffing out his chest.

“Oh, so it is of your own design then? Most impressive!” Tataru exclaimed, her smile purposefully concealing her ongoing confusion at what the point of it was. “And… you can’t put it over the fire?”

“Er. No. Not for very long, anyway. Not if you want it to function again.”

“I see…”

“But that’s just the thing!” he continued. “With the Mark XIV Thermocoil Boilmaster, you don’t even need the fire.”

“...It brews the tea cold?”

“What? No. It brews it hot. That is what the magitek is for. See here? This mechanism draws on the aether of a fire shard, which then travels through these coils along the bottom of the kettle. The whole thing will set to boiling in only a minute or two, with no need for open flames or leaning over a hot stove! That means it is portable, and convenient—just fill it with water, flick this switch, and off it goes! All you’ll have to do is replace the fire shard every half-dozen moons or so.”

Now Tataru was impressed. “Oh, really? And the tea tastes the same?”

“Better, I’ll wager!” Wedge beamed. “This gauge on the side shows you precisely how hot it is, giving you the utmost precision for your particular brew.”

Tataru smiled warmly. “Well, isn’t this lovely! Thank you so much.”

He returned his own smile—a bashful one. “It just seemed to me that, well, someone who… ah… works as tirelessly as you do… deserves a little luxury or two that might make your job a little easier.”

“It is a very kind gesture, Wedge. Thank you. I look forward to getting acquainted with it.” With a friendly pat on his arm, she hurried off to find the device a new home at the Scion’s shared bar.

—---------------------------------

And it was a kind gesture. It truly was. That Wedge was too sweet sometimes for his own good.

And Tataru reminded herself of that a few days later as she labored to get the blasted machine to go.

And again the next day, when the switch jammed.

And a week after that, when she tried to figure out how she’d managed to pour a cup of tepid water over a visiting dignitary’s tea leaves.

Tataru was far from averse to learning new skills. And the Mark XIV was simple enough. 

When it worked.

Which was, to be fair, on average, more often than not. 

She only had to call Wedge in once to help her troubleshoot it (and, as it turns out, that tepid water was from the canister with the fire shard having come slightly loose). …Which was one more such occurrence than she had ever required for her secondhand, decades-old copper kettle. Not to mention all the time she spent attempting to adjust the mechanisms herself, learning its more finicky quirks, alternating blessing it or cursing it in the name of Byregot in case either of those mantras made a difference.

When the Mark XIV worked, it was a dream. When it didn’t, she wondered why people ever bothered giving up on old, reliable fireplaces for anything at all. It was just to boil water, for the gods’ sakes.

…But if that Nero was going to march into her territory and dare to call their arrangements “primitive”, then, well. That man had another thing coming.

This was the finest kettle she had ever had the pleasure to own.

[galleryleadingsales1]

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[berryhobii]

HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH! 🤎🤎🤎

For Day 2, I wanted to give a list of black inventors and their inventions. Due to the whitewashing of history, many people don’t know about the revolutionary inventions that black people created. Some inventions were stolen by white inventors and patented so that these black inventors never got credit or revenue. There were also many instances of discrimination that didn’t allow black inventors to patent their inventions; they were often asked for extensive proof and sometimes, their inventions were destroyed and the ideas were given to white inventors to take credit for instead. Thankfully, that isn’t the case anymore and black inventors have ingrained themselves into history books and text. Let us look at some of the inventions that make life today much easier.

Michael Croslin(1933-1989): Blood Pulse and Monitoring Device

Frederick McKinley Jones(1893-1961): Roof Mounted Refrigeration for Vehicles

Garrett Morgan(1877-1963): Gas Mask and 3 Light Traffic Signal

Sarah Boone(1847-1904): Improved Ironing Board

Mary Van Brittan Brown(1922-1999): Home Camera Security System

Alexander Miles: Automatic Elevator Doors

Henry Brown(1800s):Safe Deposit Box

Alfred L. Cralle(1866-1920): Ice Cream Scoop

Lyda Newman(1898): Synthetic Hairbrush

Doctor Shirley Jackson: Breakthroughs in scientific research that allowed others to create call waiting, Caller ID, the portable fax and many others

Albert Richardson(1894): Casket Lowering System

Doctor Patricia Bath(1986): Invented Laser Probe that revolutionized cataract and other eyes surgeries, even restoring the sight of many individuals

George Crum(1824-1914): Potato Chips

Charles Drew(1904-1950): Blood Banks

David N. Crosthwait(1898-1976): Heating System

These are just a few of the hundreds of things black people have invented and so many of them are used to make life easier and better. So we thank all of these inventors for what they endured and the study they set forth to give us not only simple luxuries and pleasures but also advancements in medicine and science.

THANK YOU BLACK INVENTORS AND SCIENTISTS🤎🤎🤎🤎