#they could MAKE the thing instead i suppose

[adaginy]

I have a whole bunch of these: (picture yoinked from ebay).

On the inside, they look like this, barely better than chick tracts.

(Photo source, someone who actually liked these)

And if all you need is the plot, eh, I think that the characters all look too similar and that makes it hard to keep track of what's going on, but if you get past that then okay.

But they won't give you the homoerotic undertones of Dracula, or anything you could learn from the dracula daily tag. It doesn't tell you that Pride and Prejudice is basically a romcom and at times taking the piss. That yeah Huck Finn uses the N-word because he doesn't know better, but he's helping Jim even though he believes it will literally get him sent to hell, because he thinks that's the right thing to do anyway, so what does that say about everyone else who gets excused as a product of their time? That sherlock homes stands up for the little guy. I have read maybe all of the ones in this listing and I remember basically none of them unless I've read them elsewhere.

Sparknotes is good. Or find Crash Course, or Thug Notes, or some other explainer video that's more than 90 seconds long, from someone who has an actual job of explaining them (instead of a job of being an influencer).

ALSO I have worked in AI and would never trust an LLM with a question of fact without looking it up myself after. It was a regular thing for someone in the AI work group to say "I asked it about this thing my kid likes and I learned so much, I didn't know XYZ!" and then us having to say "yeah none of that is true, that's why you aren't supposed to test it on stuff you don't know already."

what is HAPPENING

[webism]

CHAPTER ONE: The Businessman.

kento nanami x fem!reader. nsfw.

your first night at Tsukumo's Angels, and you get put on the phone sex line.

masterlist. read on ao3

You sit on a peeling leather couch that sticks to the back of your thighs in the heat. An old metal-blade fan sits mounted on the wall to your left, but it’s a sorry excuse for one—someone blowing on you would quicker dry the sweat from your brow. It’s not as dingy as Toji’s apartment, which you suppose is an upside: things are looking brighter already. Yay.

The beautiful woman sitting across from you in a small black tank and jeans—in this weather—taps her nails against the surface of her desk. Her blonde hair gates her vision a little, but you can still feel the sharpness of her gaze on your skin. She’s sizing you up. You aren’t sure if you like it. 

“So,” she leans back in her seat. “Your name was..?”

You look up at her, at the way her hands are clasped together. She could look down at the faded resumé in front of her and see your name written as clear as day, but she asks you instead. Maybe to hear it from your own lips.

You tell her your name, and she parrots it back to you to test it on her tongue. She decides that she likes the taste. “I’m Yuki Tsukumo. I own Tsukumo’s Angels, the finest budget escort service in the city.”

You knew that, of course, but you nod as a formality regardless. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Yuki smiles at you—wide and toothy and ever so beautiful. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. She blows her smoke to the left and you almost forget just how hot it is in her office. “I hear you’d like a job?”

You’re going to hell. Every late-night-TV preacher and grandmother in the congregation would tell you the same thing. It’s not just what you’re doing—it’s what you’re thinking, what you’re willing to become to make it out of this.

When you were younger, stupider, you’d fear hell like nothing else. Eternal heat, endless suffering, a constant lack of breath, a pit with no end. Now, you’re starting to think it might feel a lot like this city at night: oppressive heat rising from the pavement, the air thick and stifling, and an unshakable sense that something, or someone, is watching you.

Toji used to call the nightlife a cancer. And although he rarely managed the truth, this might have been one of the rare times it slipped past his lips. You tug at the hem of your dress—a little too tight, a little too short. It’s what you had to work with, cobbled together from a half-hearted thrift store run and whatever nerve you could muster.Yuki didn’t say anything about a dress code, and maybe you’re stereotyping yourself here, but you’re out of your element and this dress is short enough to strip the attention from your fidgeting hands. 

The fluorescent lights outside Tsukumo’s Angels buzz faintly as you approach, the words glowing in neon pink that is reflected in the puddles on the concrete. The heavy metal door creaks loudly when you push it open and step in. 7 on the dot. You’ll be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about finding a place to live until tomorrow. Don’t think about it.

Inside, the air is cooler, though not by much. The same peeling leather couch greets you, as does the same faint smell of smoke and something cheap, floral, and over-applied. Yuki isn’t at the desk this time, but a tall man in a plain white button-up leans against it, his arms crossed. He’s an attractive man, a cigarette hangs from his lips—you’re starting to see a trend in staff here. 

“You the lamb?” He asks, though the way he looks you up and down tells you he already has an answer to that question.

“Lamb?” you ask.

He smiles, moustached lip curling upwards in something mocking and dangerously sultry. “Yeah, you’re the lamb—” he extends a hand for you to shake “—Shiu.”

Shiu has a rough grip, you note. Not mean or calloused like you’d expect from a man of physical labours, but just… rough. “It’s nice to meet you,” you hum. He laughs. 

He takes another drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brighter in the dim light, and looks you over once more before flicking the ash into an already overflowing tray on the desk. He blows a plume of smoke toward the ceiling, eyes narrowing slightly as the smoke curls. “You look familiar. I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head. “You haven’t.”

Shiu narrows his eyes even further, takes in the way your dress clings tight, how your frame stands in front of him. Your nerves… the tinge of excitement beneath them. “Have we..?”

“No!” your eyes widen, voice a little louder than you intend it to be. “Sorry. I just got out of a relationship so… no, we haven’t…”

“A breakup, huh? That’s always an interesting reason to land somewhere like this.” His voice lowers. He’s toying with you. “What’d he do? Not give you enough attention? Leave you out in the cold?”

You don’t owe him an explanation: you’re here and that’s all that matters, but you find yourself shrugging regardless. “Something like that.”

Shiu smiles, something teasing but not quite mocking. “Right, well if you’re here as a rebound I’d advise you to walk your ass right back out of that door. You’ll get attention here, for sure, but this isn’t the place for… soft comforts.”

“I’m not here for comfort.”

“Good,” says Shiu. “Keep it that way. You’re here to provide a service, an experience, but not without boundaries. Those lines blur when you start wanting cuddles and reassurance after, and when the lines blur you aren’t doing everything in your power to keep yourself safe. These men—and women—pay for sex for a reason. Remember that.”

You know. You know. There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about being an Angel, or a lamb, as he puts it. Still, you want to make the most of the hole you’re in. You narrow your eyes at Shiu and hope he doesn’t chide you for changing the subject when you ask: “and what about you? Are you—”

“For sale?” A door behind Shiu pushes open and in walks Yuki Tsukumo. She’s ditched the jeans from yesterday for a long black dress: one that hugs her figure and flows like liquid down to her ankles. She looks taller, and a whole lot cleaner than the gritty lobby you stand in. “Give me a good offer and I’ll rent him out to you. Shiu is security, he’ll take care of you if and when you need him to.”

Shiu scoffs at Yuki’s joke and takes a step to the left so that she can slot in next to him. Yuki, your boss, looks you up and down. You catch the way her gaze lingers on your dress, though you can’t tell if it’s judgement or approval behind her lashes. She flits her gaze to Shiu. “Are you trying to scare my lamb away, Kong?”

Shiu shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Yuki rolls her eyes and lands her gaze on you once again. Seeing you so out of your element, she gives you a soft smile to try and ease your nerves. “You’ll be okay here. I showed you my office yesterday, I’ll be in there if you need me at any time, okay? You’re never more than a few steps from security and if you have issues with anyone, co-worker or client, you can come to me.”

Weirdly, that does soothe you. Though your moment to take a breath quickly passes when Yuki straightens up and turns on her heels with only a nod for you to follow. “Come then.”

The door she came from leads down a long hallway with dim fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The walls are bare, the paint chipped in spots, revealing patches of old wallpaper beneath. Yuki doesn’t wait for you to catch up; her heels click with purpose on the tiled floor, echoing through the narrow space. You’re almost at the end of the hall before she speaks again, her tone matter-of-fact. “I’m not going to throw you in the deep end, but you’re not getting a soft landing either. I’ll introduce you to one of my angels, Utahime, and she’s going to walk you through our phone sex services. Sound good?”

Without waiting for a reply, Yuki steps through another door and leads you into a big lounge area. Against the back wall are a bunch of mirrors and vanity stations, makeup and hygiene products littered over each tabletop. A few girls in even fewer clothing sit and do their hair and makeup, chatting amongst themselves and shooting you soft smiles as you and Yuki walk past. 

Your boss steps over to a cream chaise lounge against another wall where a girl around your age lays splayed across the cushioning. She’s wearing a dress like yours, short and black and very ‘sex-sells’, and is tapping away on her phone with such rapt attention she doesn’t notice the two of you approach until Yuki clears her throat. 

“Utahime,” she drawls and gestures to you. “This is our newest lamb. I’d like you to walk her through our phone services tonight. Doable?”

The girl—Utahime—looks you over. She looks a little bored, gorgeous black hair falling over her shoulders and her nails still tapping absentmindedly against her phone screen. Her perfectly arched brow raises, just slightly, before she finally glances at Yuki.

“Doable,” she says with a lazy shrug. “I have the businessman booked in for a call in half an hour… maybe he’d like a session with the new girl?”

You look at Yuki, who looks at you in the same breath. She seems to think about something before ultimately nodding. “If you can get her up to speed before he calls, let her have a go with him.”

“The businessman?” You ask.

Yuki smiles. “He’s a hard worked man, but he’s so unfamiliar with his sex drive that you’d think he was a priest. He might actually benefit from talking to someone new.”

You nod—sex therapy for a businessman couldn’t be that hard. Utahime stands and adjusts her dress before grabbing your wrist and parting from Yuki to pull you across the lounge and into a room off to the side. Utahime’s grip on your wrist is firm but not unkind, and loosens once youre in what she introduces to you as the studio. 

It’s so much nicer than you expected. The room is decently sized and lit up with warm fairy lights. Almost like a recording studio, there are doors to a few booths across the wall, each one decorated to the nines with pillows and blankets and a station for water and personal items. A few low tables hold candles, fake or otherwise, alongside a small black box of… what you imagine might be toys. A plush little sofa sits in each one too, for comfort. 

“Nice, right?” Utahime hums and gently pushes you into one of the booths. “Everything’s designed to make you more comfortable. Clients pick up on that, even over the phone. It’s all sound-proofed in here too, so if you get into it you can be as loud as you want. Seriously, make it yours. You’ll be in here a lot until you start taking in-person clients.”

Utahime sits down on the floor and tosses a pillow in your direction. You startle a little but look at her with a knowing smile at her efforts to start feeling familiar. “So,” you start, sitting down on the plush sofa and toying with the small headset that hangs from the armrest. “The businessman… tell me about him?”

Utahime leans back against the wall and props her chin in her hand. “The businessmaaaan. He’s sweet. He’s only called in once before, spoke to me but got too nervous to do anything more than talk about his day. He was polite—apologised about ten times for wasting my time, which, by the way, he wasn’t. He’s got this earnestness about him that’s kind of rare. But you can tell he’s not used to this kind of thing. Not even close. It’s… cute.”

You look at her, a soft smile crosses her lips. If it wasn’t just work you’d think she had a soft spot for him. “Do you think he’ll mind talking to me instead of you? Changing things up might make him feel even more nervous.”

Utahime shakes her head. “I think he’ll appreciate someone who’s also new to this. You can learn from each other. He’s booked to call in twenty minutes. We could do some practice calls until then? I’ll show you the ropes.”

She puts her hand up to her ear to simulate a phone and you laugh at the gesture. “Sounds good.”

Meanwhile, in his small apartment bedroom, Kento Nanami—the businessman—paces from door to dresser. Back and forth, back and forth. He tightens his tie, and then loosens it just to feel unmade and tighten it again. 

Why did he book a second call? The first was ridiculous, he talked to a nice young lady about officework woes and quarterly reports and hung up after an hour with a call-girl sized dent in his wallet and no sexual relief to show for it. He’s of half a mind to walk over to his mirror and start practicing lines, but he hasn’t yet lost so much of his decorum.

For the next ten minutes, Nanami sits with his fingers drumming over his thighs, dull thuds against his slacks. He’s lost in his mind, is he even aroused? Capable of being aroused? He can’t remember the last time he jerked off—last month?

He’s two minutes late to call by the time he next checks his phone. “Shit,” he mumbles, fumbling to the contact saved under ‘Personal Services.’ Nanami stares at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. He clears his throat, adjusts his posture, and exhales sharply through his nose before pressing ‘CALL’.

The line rings, once… twice… and then— “Tsukumo’s Angels, what’s on your mind?”

His breath hitches. He shouldn’t freeze like this, but the poor man simply cannot help it. “Good evening,” he sounds clinical, and his mind is working faster than his mouth because he’s talking before he can register the words that leave his lips. “You… aren’t who I talked to last week.”

“I’m not,” the voice says, Nanami picks up on an edge of unsurety that traces your words. “You’ve caught me on my first night… you could get to know me, if you’d like to.”

Nanami nods, and then realises you can’t see him. “I’d, uh, I’d like that.”’

There’s a soft hum of acknowledgement from your side of the call, and Kento stops feeling the need to toy with his tie. “Great,” you say, your voice steadying a little. “So… why don’t we start with something easy? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Nanami hesitates. “There’s not much to tell. I work in finance. My days are… predictable, for the most part.”

“Predictability isn’t always a bad thing,” you reply gently. “But I get the feeling you aren’t fulfilled.”

"You could say that. It’s a practical job. It pays the bills." He pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, "though I think I’d like a vacation.”

From your spot on the sofa at Tsukumo’s Angels, you lean back and glance at the door. Utahime had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving you space to settle into your first call. “Are you a beach man or a mountain man?”

“Beach,” his reply is immediate. He clears his throat. “There’s something calming about the ocean. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air… it’s grounding.”

You smile at the vivid image his words paint. “I get that. The ocean feels endless in a way that’s comforting, doesn’t it? Like it can hold all your worries for a while.”

“Yes. Exactly that. I’d read, listen to the water, just exist.”

“What does a man like you read?”

“Anything classic. I like things tried-and-true, change is… difficult for me. Hemingway maybe. Or Murakami, if I’m in the right mood.”

“Tasteful,” you reply. “And if I were there on the beach with you, could I distract you from your book, or are you diligent in your focus?”

In his room, Nanami’s mouth goes dry as his cock twitches in his slacks. You haven’t even said anything lewd, but he’s feeling oddly restless nonetheless. “I like to think I’m a focused man,” he starts, shuffling back on his bed to rest against the headboard. He takes his glasses off and rests them on the bedside table. “But under the right circumstances, I could be persuaded to set the book down.”

“Careful, businessman, I could take that as a challenge.”

“I’d hope so.”

He’s blushing at his own words and, in the same breath, reaching downwards with his free hand to palm as his hardening cock. He takes a sharp breath in and prays to every god he’s ever read about that you didn’t hear him.

“You’re saying I’d have to earn your attention?” Your question is honeyed. 

“I suppose,” so is his reply. 

“Good, I like working for my meals.”

Nanami snorts— “what, you’re going to eat me?”

“Yes,” your voice makes his cock jump. He sighs and pulls his slacks down enough to hook it out. “Have you ever wanted something so bad that you’d consume it whole if you could?”

Nanami thinks for a moment about a promotion, and then shakes his head. His mind jumps instead to the hypothetical beach retreat, with a book in one hand and the back of your head in his other as he pushes your mouth down on his cock so deep you’re gagging and drooling all over the place. Ungentlemanly, but enough of a visual to incite his tip to start drooling precum. He smears it over the head with his thumb, and nearly chokes on his words. “I have.”

“That’s how I feel. There’s an intimacy to taking care of someone, especially when they’re stressed like you. I bet your muscles are so tight they’d be hard under my hands. Being the one to relax you, make you feel good? That’d make me feel good.”

Nanami hums. “Usually I’m the one doing the servicing.”

“I don’t doubt that. You should be the one being taken care of. Poor thing, working so hard every day: carrying all that weight on your shoulders. You deserve a break.”

Poor Kento moans at that—a break. God, the things he’d do for a break. He feels almost pathetic pumping his cock to the thought of reprieve from the monotonous 9-5 he lives, but he hasn’t felt this good in a long time. His breathing grows heavier as your words coil around him. “You’re… ha, you’re good at this. It’s your first day?”

“Don’t distract me,” you hum. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” he exhales. “Your eyes. Looking up at me. Or your hands on my thighs. How you’d touch me like you know me. Like we know each other. Like we’ve done it a hundred times before and still aren’t sick of each other.”

He doesn’t know why he says that, why his fantasy quickly shifts from a beachside blowjob to the domestic life. To lazy morning sex or late nights in the kitchen that turn from snack runs to you hoisted onto the counter with his head between your thighs. He pictures you, whatever you look like, laughing as he kisses your neck and brings home gifts carved out of his paycheck. He pictures a life shared, and feels awful for it.

“Sorry,” his strokes falter. “Sorry I don’t  know why—”

“I like that thought,” you stop him from spiralling. “Maybe we have. Maybe in another life you’d come home to me every night, waiting for you… ready to make you forget about everything but the way you make me feel.”

His chest heaves as his hand works faster, stroking his cock at a near brutal pace to the images you plant into his mind. You’re in his bed, you’re bent over his desk, you’re lazing on the sofa with him, you’re up against the wall in his shower. “Fuck.”

“I’d know you inside and out,” you continue on, and he swears he can hear a slight hitch to your breath—are you touching yourself? He pictures phone sex operators sitting bored at a desk as they read from a script. But you sound…invested. Heated. “I’d know exactly how to take care of you. You’d come home exhausted and I’d make it all better—god, you’d know all of me too.”

Nanami’s hips jerk up into his hand as he feels his release start to build. It’s already dizzying, after such a long dry spell, and his head tips forward in want.“You’re—ha—too good at this. How the hell… how are you—”

“Shh,” you soothe him. “Don’t think. Just feel, just let me take care of you… even from here. You’re touching yourself, yea? Imagine it’s my hand, stroking you after a long day, love. Or maybe I’m riding you, letting you lay back and feel me around you… you wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.”

His free hand fists the sheets as he imagines the warmth of your body pressing against his, the way your nails might scrape lightly over his skin. He pictures your head tilted back, lips parted in ecstasy as you moan his name over and over again. 

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he rarely curses like this. Still, he’s never indulged in something like this before—never let himself slip into the raw, visceral need he now feels. The restraint he’s so practiced in every aspect of his life is dissolving fast, leaving him chasing the pleasure you’re pouring into him.

“Good,” you hum. “I want you to let go for me, give me everything you have all pent up. I can take it.”

Nanami’s pace turns frantic, hips fucking up into his fist as he strokes himself at a torrid pace. His mind is hazed with fantasies of a simple life, domestic and passionate and before he can stop himself and force a few more minutes of pleasure he’s cumming—hard. A strangled moan, one made for porn, leaves his lips and is met with a sharp intake of breath from your end. Nanami feels self conscious for a moment, drawing his now-sticky hand from his cock as he listens to the phone—were you uncomfortable?

Far from. You hardly realise you have your dress hiked and your hand under the fabric of your panties until you’re timing your orgasm with the businessman on the other end of the call. This is far from protocol, but the last time you’ve been spoken to about making love was when you and Toji first started dating, when he was still sweet on you. Sex since then has been rough and passionate and bruising and great, but never love-making. 

You try and stifle your sounds, not knowing yet if it's appropriate for you to touch yourself alongside your clients. You hadn’t intended on it, that’s for sure. You blink the blur from your vision as you try and regain your composure, sliding your hand out of your panties and holding it up in front of you—your fingers glisten under the soft lights and you scramble for a tissue to clean yourself off. 

The silence on the phone between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. “Are you… okay?”

“Yes,” you breathe out a lot quicker than you need to. 

“Good,” he says, and you can almost hear the faint smile in his tone. “I was worried I’d—well, that I’d crossed a line.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from blurting out how very far from uncomfortable you’d been. “Not at all. I guess we both… just got caught up in the moment.”

He hums in agreement, his voice still a little strained, and something about the lilt of his voice lays deep inside of you. Maybe this line of work isn’t for you if… after one call with a man you don’t know otherwise, you’re already starting to feel open with him. When he speaks, you can hear the nerves lacing his words. “I’m not unhappy it happened.”

“Me neither. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Businessman.”

“You have a way of coaxing them out of me,” he replies. “If I call again, will I get to speak to you?”

It’s a simple question, yet it still implies something more. There’s no rule against it—not officially—but getting closer than needed with clients has already been explained to you as a messy line. Still, you’ve just fucked your fingers to his voice and the fantasies he spoke of—you aren’t in a habit of keeping straight edges. 

“Maybe,” you reply, leaving the door open just enough. “Ask for the lamb.”

“The lamb?” He laughs, you like the sound. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do.”

There's a moment of silence, and you can see Utahime’s shadow in the frosted window on the door. A quick glance to the clock tells you that an hour has passed already. As if sensing your coming end, the businessman speaks. “My time is almost up. Take care of yourself.”

You stare at the door. “You too, Mr Businessman.”

“Nanami,” he corrects you gently. “You can call me Nanami.”

The call ends with a soft click, leaving you sitting there and rpelaying his correction in your head. Nanami. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register the door creaking open. Utahime steps in, and it’s only when her gaze drops to your lap that the realisation hits—your dress is still slightly rucked up, and your flustered attempt to straighten it comes a moment too late.

“Oh, lamb,” she drawls, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Caught you, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks burn as you stammer, “It’s not—”

“Relax. It happens to everyone eventually.”

You gape at her, mortified. “This doesn’t happen to everyone.”

Utahime grins, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she dips her head down in laughter. It’s not teasing—moreso friendly. She’s trying to laugh with you, not at you. Though still embarrassed, you feel a little less like you want to melt into the couch as she continues. “And you know what that means?”

You tilt your head at her. “What does it mean?”

“That you’ll fit right in here, lamb.”

taglist: @yemmuisworld @lavenderdaydream97 @hellokittyish @gojoscinnamonroll @medusamara5

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@sugarcoatedsoul @bleedforferxx @y34rnf0rcc @bmorgonzobean @esvinsevyn

[lilacstro]

🌸Uranus through the houses: what generational curse you are here to break

hey y'all, back with another post. I hope you are doing well :) been very very long since I made a post haha. This post may be rather short? Idk how long it'd be tbh, let's get into it now!

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🌸Uranus in 1st: to break the stigma around being yourself, your "real" self, doing you, what you really want and going against the wind because that is your purpose and calling. Finding yourself, and not hiding it away. Doing everything you desire to, not confronting to societal or traditional norms, being the one of heart

🌸Uranus in 2nd: Speaking up, showing what respect is supposed to mean for one self, initiating the concept of self respect and personal boundaries, re-inventing the relationship with money, material things and desires.

🌸Uranus in 3rd: Big thoughts, innovative thinking. Thinking in a broad manner, against the current circumstances or conditioning. Big dreamers for a reason. Usually either extremely strong or extremely weak relationship with siblings for whatever the reason. New, big ideologies. Breaking the generational thinking patterns.

🌸Uranus in 4th: Someone who would follow their heart. Choosing their chosen family, prioritizing the family they created. Following the spirit of their soul and mind. Bringing reforms in the whole family, changing the family dynamics from their generation and lineage, reforming traditional dogmas and orthodoxes running in the family through generations.

🌸Uranus in 5th: Taking pleasures of life seriously. Being more attuned to your inner voice if it signals you to follow your dreams, hobbies and passions. Leaving this "work until you die" kind of mentality and actually indulging in things you like, following your heart, the rhythm of your soul. Full of creative energy.

🌸Uranus in 6th: Breaking monotony in life, breaking this idea and pattern of stability, security, and predictability in life. Leaving behind the idea of, "tunnel vision", basically. May despise following routines, structures, traditions in life. Usually have spontaneous bursts of energy instead of being consistent per se, usually the "turbulent" types.

🌸Uranus in 7th: for this placement, I feel their spouse or partner would heal patterns more than them. I mean both of you together would change things together, but they would more likely lead or initiate this revolution. Your family may have hard time settling with them, but eventually all would be good.

🌸Uranus in 8th: The way the shadow side of life is treated or talked about. Maybe you grew up in a family where darker things like, death, or other taboo topics were not discussed. This is true for a majority of people who do not have this placement as well, but you would be the one who may introduce them to such ideas and may be in charge of making them comfortable embracing their own shadows, and so you may often experience projection from your family often, because you're triggering their shadows.

🌸Uranus in 9th: Someone who would not accept things taught to them for no reason, without explanation. Other placement that speaks in terms of genetic unwinding. You would change the way upcoming generation thinks. You may question religion, traditions, beliefs a lot, not to ridicule them, but to find their relevance in the current world. Expanding the tunnel vision, the view of the world. You may adapt a different culture or a philosophy than the one you're born with and challenge the idea of unknown and foreign in your family.

🌸Uranus in 10th: This stigma attached to people and society and the world. "what would they say" "what would they think" and you may most probably set out to do things no one in your lineage could think of doing, especially in terms of jobs and career, creating something new altogether. You may be seen as eccentric by others for that, but more you grow in this energy, more you would heal this idea of following the crowd for people who are lost themselves.

🌸Uranus in 11th: This again for people who have the wildest dreams and do not care about being a part of the social community or to conform to it in any way. You are very very likely to have high spirits, and follow your higher purpose, your dreams. More of a rebel kind of placement, you do not care if your dreams or ambitions are different than the one imposed or planned for you. You would break this programming of needing to be a certain way, a certain success recipe, a certain dream, in your lineage.

🌸Uranus in 12th: More of a visionary kind of placement. Someone who does not conform to immediate ideas and tunnel visions. Someone who's thoughts and ideas would not make sense currently but would be the future. You are here to heal subconscious programming, limiting beliefs, thoughts, and opinions of your lineage. The deepest of all the above placement and very transformative. You yourself may have experienced unexpected changes and events in life, that shake you right from the bottom until a steady foundation is built, and you are meant to transmute this same lessons and light to your lineage.

until the next time

ps: i love you

xoxo

[fairyminnie444]

˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

— 𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘴𝘬 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰��𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘶𝘣𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘐 𝘋𝘖𝘕𝘛 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴!

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓟𝓞𝓢𝓣𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

your subconscious is simpler than you think it is

you are NOT persisting if you are checking 3D and waiting for you DR!

you don’t try to manifest

Manifesting is instantly

how should I see the role of other people in my reality?

ENDING the cycle of main frequent doubts that arise in our minds once and for all

“At your command”

EIYPO explained for you to understand and absorb

do you sometimes have that feeling that you NEED TO DO SOMETHING/TAKE ACTION to receive what you want?

“BIG” manifestations

What’s the “secret”?

Why You Can Change Your Physical Appearance and Overcome the Limitations of Biology

Why Others’ Manifestations Can’t Block Yours

I already know everything!! How do I apply this to my routine?

The “Sabbath State”

Yes, it’s perfectly okayyyy if you forget or get distracted by your routine.

affirmations to make it easier and “faster”

the ultimate post u need to LET GO

understanding your EGO so you don’t let it hold you back anymore

how to feel your desire in a natural way even if it seems unlikely?

even a negative view of circumstances can lead you to a positive one

manifesting $100,000 is as easy as manifesting $1

you already understood that! you are already there!

𝕔𝕙𝕠𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖 𝕒𝕓𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕟𝕖𝕘𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕔𝕚𝕣𝕔𝕦𝕞𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕟𝕔𝕖𝕤

manifesting is supposed to be fun, light and easy!

~bad moments~ along the way happen, instead of ignoring them how to deal with them?

Act like the GOD you know you are.

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

𝓐𝓢𝓚𝓢 ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

i want to increase my height

what if my desires stay in imagination ans never externalize?

can we manifest multiple sps?

time travel

What if others also try to manifest my celebrity sp…

how do you/did you convince yourself that manifesting/LOA is real

dealing with the 3D when it comes to using LOA (living in the wish fulfilled)

doubts affect my manifesting?

How does one take a very famous person « off the pedestal » in order to manifest them?

I want to change my birth name but i have to sign documental stuff

How I could live in the end when revising smth that if materialized would totally change my live in the 3d?

SPEC method

will it still manifest what we want even if we don’t have a clear picture on it?

I need help with my imagination.

how do i know if it's just taking its time or if i'm doing something wrong?

Can you go deeper into days/weeks of the 3D not changing and how to persist throughout the whole day when you're doing things?

What are your thoughts about getting back people who have p@ssed away? REVISION

YT Channels (sub, meditations, mentors)

I want to manifest the absence of something I've been experiencing for a long time (health and wellness related).

work on my self concept / deal with people who criticize or make me feel drained

simple breakdown to help you manifest your SP even if it feels delusional right now

trying to manifest a modeling career

manifest changing appearance and dna, but i also want to change my past to always have been this appearance and my parents too

everytime i think something is "never going to happen" or "hmm i've never seen xyz" it ends up happening?!?!

How can I manifest when I absolutely don't believe that I can?

how can i use daydreaming and listening to songs while manifesting?

someone asked me about my sp. what should I do in this case?

why is consuming more information about this law considered to be coming from lack when doing something in the 3d that "opposes your desire" not considered to be coming from lack?

I have too many things to manifest so what should I do? advice to me in harsh way

struggle with is my celeb sp and my dream job

how would you manifest hectochromia eyes?

EIYPO everything like a puppet and me it’s master pulling the strings? Does it mean that “ancestors,” “angels,” etc. are not existent, only me?

Why Some Manifestations Work Effortlessly

advices for manifesting with mental disorders

can manifest such extreme beauty that everyone in a shopping mall turns to look at me. Even though I'm not the standard and I'm common

I’m manifesting a new face, but visualising it doesn’t make me feel anything?

how do i make sure that happens for certain? i'm scared it won't

What do you think about manifesting being immortal?

+ tips on manifesting a bf/significant other

struggling with feeling the feelings and believing that it’ll happen.

I can never manifest anything related to MONEY purely

date with the guy I like However, I am a very physically insecure girl and I am too scared and nervous.

i dont know what i did wrong, i really thought this would work, i was sure about it but it didn’t and i can’t helped but feel discouraged

I have a fear that some of my manifestation will dissapear

If everything we are seeing in the 3D is assumptions we made through our life, why does sometimes when we are like 100% sure of something and then we figured it is not?

was confident, my affirmation was "no matter how and what, i have all A's" but alas i did in fact not get all A's.

i WANT to see a people who actually manifested things that changed their past, their reality

i wanna manifest more lenient parents

I’m religious so I believe in a higher power/god, but I do still believe in my own power/ Will this hinder my manifestation process because I believe in a higher power?

What am I doing wrong? SP related

how can i.. like manifest or just "undo" it??

I want to manifest my natural hair color being blond, but i have black hair and also my parents, do i have to detail everyone in my family who is blonde for my new genes?

I feel like I can't anymore, that I'm giving in… I feel stuck

i’m really confused in the living in the end thing and others things in my manifestation

I simply want to be like those people who are successful in curing their illnesses

what do you recommend me doing to change my birth year while not ignoring the reality and still living in the end?

Can our negative thoughts manifest if we think them for a long time and then stop thinking them?

How to use chatpgt to clear doubts and manifest

Tips for beginners

why do some people's jokes manifest if they don't assume those jokes are true?

how to stop paying attention to old failed attempts

How do you deal with hopelessness or desperation.

i’m scared that my fears will manifest itself and it’s out of my control

waiting mode

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧ ✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter Insight 1 Insight 2 Insight 3

You can’t breathe, it’s the only thing you can think of as the door swings open and your pulled into the house, you can’t breathe, you can’t get any oxygen into your lungs as they try desperately to get you to clam down, as they try desperately to try and understand what’s going on but you can’t speak because you can’t breathe and in a moment of panic they shout “I’m calling Leah ok.” That seems to help a bit as you let out a gasped no.

They looked confused as you still try to draw in a breath but you don’t want them to call Leah and that doesn’t seem to make any sense, nothing you gasp out is making any sense “it-it won’t-it won’t fit.” You’re lent over the counter your palms pushing into the cool top trying to ground yourself “it-it won’t fit.” You say again “her ring-her ring it-it won’t.” You feel light headed now but a voice in the back of your head screams at you that you’re not just breathing for yourself, you’re breathing for your baby and that seems to flip a switch as you place a protective hand on your stomach.

“Her ring-Leah’s ring it-it doesn’t fit.” Leah grabby looks at you eyebrows scrunched together in confusion “her wedding band, of course it fits darling.” You shake your head “It’s not her ring Granny, I-she.” You feel your stomach twist again as Leah’s granny tries to understand what’s going on.

“She’s cheating on me-Leah’s cheating on me.” Granny feels her blood run cold as her face drops “that’s-are you sure.” You nod as the pieces play in your head “she-she wasn’t wearing her ring- I told her I’d take it-her-she said her hand was swelling from practice and when I went to put it on-it doesn’t fit.” Granny can see the struggle, the way your hunched over scared that if you let go of the counter that the world will slip away. She sees your hand grasping at your stomach protectively and she herself starts to feel nauseous.

“Where is the ring Y/n.” You shake your head at the memory “I-i-SHE wears it around her neck.” Granny reaches for your hand grasping it tightly “who darling.” A tear tracks its way down your cheek “the girl she’s sleeping with.” Granny freezes, that ring had seen forty five years of pure love and happiness it was given to Leah so she could show it the same instead it’s been disgraced.

“I-what-what do I do.” You ask as granny leads you to the couch “I-i-we were supposed to have a baby.” Granny feels her heartbreak at your quieting voice “I was going to tell her it worked, that-that I’m pregnant.”

You’re so overwhelmed that you don’t notice granny calling Amanda, or the rest of your family, you don’t notice the blanket she’s draped over you and you definitely don’t notice that you’ve fallen asleep until you wake up to voices in the kitchen.

“I-how did she end up like this, I mean why would she do something like this to her marriage, to Y/n.” Amanda looks shell shocked as she sits talking to granny her hands wrapped around a mug “Do you think she’ll let us still see the baby.”

You place your hand over your stomach again “I-I can’t do this on my own .” You say stepping forward Amanda turns to you standing in the hallway “I-please don’t make me do this alone.”

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ You test out a new lipstick

(Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia)

Tw: smooches! Shield your eyes!

Oh, would you look at that, you bought a new lipstick. You just need to test whether it wears down quickly or leaves any mark. 

✧ Pierro is in a haste. You blurt out that you need a new lipstick once, and the next thing you know, he purchases several high-quality ones for you. Offering you swatches of colors, makeup removers, different shades, and lipstick textures, he observes with analytical admiration as you sit in front of a mirror and apply the lipstick carefully. 

One last step is missing – to try its imprint. The Jester is ready to reach for a napkin to let you try. But you only smiled. Before he can comprehend, your hand reaches to turn his head and gently guides him closer to your lips until you sweetly capture his. It’s not often that The Jester experiences a complete blank out, but when you deliberately trace your lips across his skin and start preparing his face with kisses, how else is he supposed to react? Hold in his hitched breaths? Not deepen the kisses to relish the ambrosia of your lips?

Suffice it to say, you are proud of the imprints on his pale skin. He seems even prouder, wearing them like a badge of honor, despite his stoic appearance.

✧ You asked Il Capitano to evaluate the new shade of lipstick you bought. Like any loving partner, the honorable Captain stated honestly that any hue suits you elegantly. Even if his knowledge of cosmetics is minimal, he felt delighted and proud of your looks.  

But that wasn’t the issue. Now you were standing in front of him, smiling menacingly.  

“What is it, my treasure?”  

You stepped closer.  

“Dear…?”  

You stepped even closer. Oh no, thought the Captain, he’s in danger. His pleas for reason and mercy went unheard. Instead, he faced a bigger battle—a battle that left his helmet not with scratches but with various imprints of your kisses. You stood triumphantly, happy with your lipstick and the numerous marks on his helmet and neck. 

Il Capitano lost the battle that day. 

✧ At last, Il Dottore mused to himself, the perfect hue of lipstick designed scientifically for you. You voiced your issue in finding a suitable shade of makeup for yourself, hence you asked none other than your beloved to find a logical solution. So he took matters into his own hands to find the best chemical solution and accurately create the best shade to match your skin. 

Naturally, it was a success. With his gloves stained in various colorful substances, he proudly handed you a slender tube with a delicate black cap from the table as if it were a casual concoction he could make on a whimsy. Hence, you thanked him and blithely applied it on the spot.

“Dottore, it turned out magnificently!” – you said as you looked into the reflection of your face. But when you turned to look at him, Dottore’s complexion went vaguely blank. “Hm, what is it? Isn't it good? You made it matte, too.” 

He silently stepped forward; even behind his black mask, you could sense his full attention zooming on the beauty of your lips. 

"Well, true... I formulated it to be stain-proof, so it won't smudge as you go about your day. However," - he hummed, his hand cupping your jawline warmly. "Every product requires assiduous testing. We could conduct a few tests of our own to ensure its performance. If I may," 

Of course, he would test it personally. Of course, he then captures your lips in a kiss, his hand on the back of your head, his touch an ardent mix of passion and desire. He explores your mouth, his tongue caressing yours with a fervor, wanting to test how long the lipstick will last under the pressure of his kisses. You should've expected this, as his other hand encloses around you to press you flush against him. 

"Ah... interesting. It's held up quite well. There's no transfer on your skin or mine, but I do think further testing is necessary."

“Enough, enough! That’s plenty of testing from you!” 

✧ Scaramouche dislikes shopping. It’s a hassle, truly. You requested him to accompany you on a leisurely stroll, oblivious of your trap to drag him to some quick shopping. Except this quick shopping turned into a full-blown shopping spree. The question is: was he here to accompany you or to pull you away from wasting all your Mora on fleeting indulgences?

“No, you don't need any more clothes. You have plenty of unworn ones.”

“No, we don't need any more plushies, your bed is already littered with them.”

“And no, you already had some snacks on the way here. Stop buying more!”

You couldn't escape his stern reminders, even if they were practical. However, there was still one shop you left as an ace up your sleeves. Before finishing today's trip, you encouraged The Balladeer to join you in cosmetics shopping. Your innocent smile spoke promises of letting him choose your new lipstick color if he so desired, and the allure of it caused him to halt. 

“... Me? Why must I choose? Can't you pick a simple color and call it a day, huh?” - Scaramouche feigned annoyance when, in reality, he quickly grabbed your arm and led you hastily to the boutique. “We'll quickly buy one, but don't get any ideas that we're staying here for any longer.”

Poor Harbinger; he didn't have to lie to himself so cruelly. The two of you stayed in the boutique for a long while, not because you were indecisive, but because Scaramouche suddenly took the matters with utter seriousness. Should he suggest a carnelian shade? It would match with his own red eyeshade. Or perhaps a darker one would suit your complexion? Especially if you decided to leave contrasting lipstick imprints all over his porcelain skin- 

Scaramouche shook his head. Your voice interrupted his train of thought.

“Um… Scara, sweetie? Could we decide already? We spent the whole day in this shop.”

“We'll buy all of them, then,” - he held up your face, his full focus on you as you timidly averted your gaze. “Here. Now let me help you apply it.” 

✧ Pantalone sat behind his desk, fingers intertwined thoughtfully. Silver glasses cast a shadow upon his already darkened gaze. His expression, unfortunately, was far from pleased. 

“L-lord Harbinger Regrator,” – the Fatui subordinate uttered. “It is with utmost sorrow that I must inform you that- that the cosmetologists you hired have not finished their work. They are still in the process of creating the products you requested.” 

The silence of the office was deafening. The Harbinger granted no mercy with his prolonged pause.

“... I commission the best cosmetologist in all of Teyvat, and they still dare to waste my Mora and time? Is this some frivolous matter for them?” - The Harbinger's hands sternly pressed against the table, his voice raised “My beloved requested a new lipstick! They deserve the best of the best, as soon as possible!” 

“Uh, honey… I am still here in the room.” - your voice interjected awkwardly. Indeed, it's true; you are sitting nearby, blinking in confusion. You waved at the Fatui subordinate to take it easy, signaling sympathetically that your partner was having another one of his ambitious episodes. 

“Honey, my love, this is no fleeting matter! I wanted you to get the highest, custom-made quality for cosmetics. You rarely ask for anything, but when you do, I can't just let you down!” 

“It's just lipstick…! I didn't even say what color or kind I wanted.”

“And that's precisely why you shall get all of them. You there,” - he signaled back to the subordinate swiftly. “Quick, send the letters to those cosmetic chemists to hurry up if they want to make themselves worth the Mora. Delays are not negotiable.”

With the Fatui worker scurrying away in a hurry, Pantalone sighed deeply before plopping down beside you on the sofa of his office. You patted his back, amused by his sudden precedence over something so mundane. 

“There, there, Pantalone. You know it's nothing urgent. It's just lipstick.”

“Not any lipstick. Your lipstick, darling! I need to see you don the most dazzling color on your lips.” He turned to gently trace his thumb across your jawline, his voice softening. “...The lips that should be showering me with kisses and leaving lipstick prints on my skin.”

You laughed heartily – “Oh, so that's what it's all about? You know, makeup or no makeup, I can still kiss y-”

You didn't register how The Harbinger's head bowed lowly in reverence. “I would pay you any amount of Mora for you to do so.” 

Pantalone truly knows how to blow up over the most bizarre things. Either way, as the weeks passed, the newly ordered cosmetics did arrive as instructed. How did people know? Because Pantalone didn’t shy away from flaunting the traces of your delicate lips on his neck and blouse. A testament to stolen kisses and intimate moments behind closed doors. His triumphant grin says it all. 

✧ Your ever-observant boyfriend, Tartaglia, noticed you mulling something over by the mirror. You seemed in deep focus, a new item in your hands as you inspected your visage. You tried on a new lipstick! 

Childe, being the endearing goofball that he is, complimented your new purchase with delight. You appreciated his knack for noticing even the smallest changes, even if you didn't directly tell him you tried on something new. All was well! 

Or was it? For beneath his easygoing smile, in the deepest recesses of his soul, Tartaglia was begging, crying, screaming. He wanted to hold your face in his palms and kiss you senseless. He wished to taste the sweetness of your lips until this adorable color of your lipstick was smeared on both of your faces. He wished to soak in the warmth of your pecks and kisses, dreaming for your touch to litter his face with imprints.  

Did he say all of that? Of course not. He kept beaming at you in adoration, his smile tender while his thoughts devouring. Yet, after days of wrestling with his unspoken desires, Childe devised a plan – a very, very subtle plan.

“Oh nooo,” - he lamented dramatically, leaning against the doorway with a hand draped theatrically over his forehead. “If only my beloved was here to bestow me some loving kisses, especially when they look so alluring in their new lipstick! If only!” 

You raised an eyebrow at Tartaglia’s shenanigans as if asking him: Really? What is this damsel in distress act? Nonetheless, luckily for the 11th, his oh-so-subtle hints hit the mark, because you happily cupped his cheeks and smooched them with fervor, feeling his warm skin under your lips as he chuckled.  

Needless to say, your lipstick didn’t stand a chance.

[starksweasley]

Worth It // James Potter

Summary: Your older brother Remus catches you making out with his best friend

Word Count: 1095

It was late, the Gryffindor common room bathed in the warm glow of flickering firelight. The evening had stretched into a quiet lull, the perfect backdrop for studying. You were tucked into the far corner, books and parchment spread out around you, determined to get through your Potions notes. Across from you, James Potter sat with a Transfiguration text open on his lap, though his eyes hadn’t touched it for the past twenty minutes.

He was staring at you. Again.

“James,” you whispered sharply, glancing up just in time to catch the boyish grin that spread across his face. His hazel eyes sparkled with mischief, but there was a softness to them too, something that made your cheeks flush. “Focus. You’re supposed to be studying.”

“I am focusing,” he countered smoothly, leaning forward to rest his chin in his hand, the picture of mischief. “Just not on Transfiguration.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the smile threatening to break across your face, and buried your nose back in your notes. Ignoring James was a skill you were still trying to master—and failing miserably at. Two weeks. That’s how long you’d been secretly dating James Potter. And in those two weeks, you’d come to realize two things: first, James was impossible to resist. Second, your brother Remus was terrifyingly protective, and if he caught wind of this, well… you’d rather not find out what would happen.

James’s chair creaked as he leaned back, the sound pulling your attention despite your better judgment. His hair was an unruly mess, as always, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. He’d already shrugged off his robes, leaving him in his shirt and jumper, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms. You swallowed hard and looked back down at your notes, but the words blurred together.

“Moony’s not even here,” James said suddenly, his voice breaking the quiet. He pushed his chair back, sliding it closer to yours with a deliberate scrape. “And Sirius went with him. It’s just us. No one to tattle.”

You glanced around the room. It was nearly empty, a trio of first-years dozing by the fire and two seventh-years huddled in a corner. Still, your heart pounded at the thought of someone catching you. “It’s not about tattling,” you muttered, shoving at his chair with your foot. “It’s about… appearances.”

“Love,” he said softly, leaning closer, his voice dipping in that way that made your knees weak even when you were sitting down. “We’re studying. That’s innocent, isn’t it?”

His proximity sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself unable to respond. Before you could gather your thoughts, he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. The corner of his mouth quirked upward at the way you froze, caught between shoving him away and pulling him closer.

“Jamie,” you hissed, though there was no real heat behind it.

“Remus isn’t here,” he repeated, his voice full of teasing promise. “And I miss you.”

The warmth in his voice melted your resolve, and for a moment, the world outside the circle of firelight didn’t matter. You studied his face, the freckles scattered across his nose, the way his lashes framed those golden eyes, the faint smirk playing on his lips. His hand lingered near your cheek, and when he tilted his head slightly, your heart stuttered.

“You’re impossible,” you murmured, shaking your head. But there was a smile in your voice, and you knew he heard it.

“And yet, here I am.” His hand moved to your chin, tilting it gently until your eyes met his. The fire crackled in the background, but all you could hear was the steady rhythm of your own heartbeat.

“James,” you whispered again, but this time, it was softer, your voice betraying the battle you were losing.

The next time he leaned in, you didn’t stop him. Instead, you shoved your books aside with a dramatic sigh and, to his visible surprise, launched yourself onto his lap. James let out a startled laugh, his arms instinctively wrapping around you as your lips found his in a kiss that wiped the smug grin right off his face. The kiss was warm, slow, and entirely consuming. His hands traced gentle patterns on your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.

“You win,” you murmured against his mouth, feeling his chest rumble with laughter as his hands tightened around your waist.

“Oh, I definitely win,” he agreed, his voice low and full of affection.

The moment was perfect. It was warm and quiet and—

The portrait hole slammed open.

“What the bloody—” Sirius Black’s voice rang out, loud and incredulous.

You and James pulled apart so fast you nearly toppled to the floor, but James’s hands steadied you just as Remus' eyes landed on you. His expression twisted from confusion to realization to fury in the span of a heartbeat.

“You…” Remus pointed a finger at James, who immediately shrank back, his cocky demeanor vanishing. “You bloody prat! That’s my sister!”

“Moony, wait—” James began, scrambling out of his chair and nearly tripping over his own feet.

But Remus was already on the move, rounding the sofa with a speed that could only be described as wolfish. James bolted, darting around the furniture, a panicked grin plastered on his face as Sirius leaned against the wall, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.

“She started it!” James shouted over his shoulder, making the mistake of glancing back. Remus lunged, but James dove over the back of the couch, narrowly avoiding him.

“You absolute coward!” you called, half-amused, half-mortified as you hurried to gather your scattered books.

“I’ll show you coward!” Remus yelled, vaulting over the armrest in pursuit. James let out a yelp and ducked behind Sirius, who was now doubled over with laughter.

“Remus, mate,” James tried again, his hands up in mock surrender. “I swear, it’s…” He faltered, glancing at you, his eyes full of pleading. “It’s not what it looks like?”

Remus growled, an actual growl, and James bolted for the stairs.

You couldn’t help it. You burst out laughing, sinking into the nearest armchair as Sirius wiped tears from his eyes.

“I’ll give him a five-second head start,” Remus muttered, shooting you a sharp look that only made you laugh harder. “Then we’re having words, both of you.”

“Worth it,” James called faintly from somewhere up the stairs.

And despite everything, you couldn’t help but agree.

[anonity]

BETTER -- drabble

been gone for a min for a last min road trip w/ friends for new years :) happy 2025! had this in my drafts after watching the paige ep on flau’jaes podcast

WC: ~1200 summary: paige catches you and your saved basketball edits

the amount of paige edits that popped up on your for-you-page was diabolical. especially considering she was your roommate.

you were waiting for her to return from practice, feet kicked up on the coffee table of your apartment, when the first of the day came up.

originally, you’d justified your ever-growing collection of edits as hype-videos: something you could scroll through before paige’s games to get you in the right mood. for a while, that checked out – you only saved her highlights, quick moving graphics with smooth transitions.

but then it had quickly devolved into what can only be described as an obsessive fan folder, filled with edits so thirsty you think you would actually combust if anyone saw them, let alone paige.

it was bound to happen.

you continued watching edits when the door opened, kept scrolling when it closed, and carried on even as paige leaned curiously on the kitchen counter. its not like she would know who you were watching – hell, you had juju watkins videos coming up on your page every couple days, too. 

this arrangement had worked perfectly for you for months. you got to indulge in your quietest delusions, and your best-friend-turned-roommate could continue on none the wiser. 

until her voice rang out clearly from your phone. you would’ve played it off, really, said it was an interview clip or something, had her voice not immediately been followed by the “or nah” audio. 

mortified did not even begin to describe the feeling clawing into your throat.

you scrolled impossibly fast and began praying. maybe she hadn’t been paying attention. maybe she wasn’t even in the kitchen anymore. maybe you’d imagined the entire thing and paige wasn’t even real and this was all some kind of awful dream you’d wake up from in 3, 2, 1…

“whatcha watchin’?”

you think your soul has left your body. 

paige is sauntering over and looking very smug. you’re wondering how fast you can make it from the couch to the balcony. 

“an interview,” you try anyway, despite the fact that not a single interview in the history of basketball has ever included fucking ty dolla sign.

paige smirks, leaning over the back of the couch. her breath tickles the top of your head and you shiver despite yourself, eyes trained on the tiktok now repeating on your phone – one of those orange muppet videos (pepe? is he supposed to be a shrimp?) stuck on the first slide. really, if it weren’t for the horrors of your current situation, you would find the irony funny. if you survived this event, maybe you would make one. you can see it now. “i’m watching edits of my roommate – my roommate walks in – i have to defend myself to my roommate –” i have to defend myself to my roommate.

“which interview?”

“umm,” you say, eloquently. you can’t think past your orange muppet spiral. “overwatch?”

paige laughs, a noise that distracts you long enough for her to yank your phone away. “overtime?”

shit.

you can barely get out a disdained “paige!” before you hear the audio repeating again. would a fall from the third floor kill you? is it still considered a fall if you jump?

you stop lunging for your phone – maybe you can just play it cool. who cares if theres a paige edit on your FYP? it's only weird if you make it weird. “you act like those don’t pop up on your for you page too.” 

paige shushes you, biting her cheeks in mock-seriousness. she shushes you! the nerve! if you weren’t so mortified you would argue with her! 

but you are mortified, and so you stay quiet.  the silence stretches on and on until your phone also goes silent. the apartment's heating unit is suddenly very loud, and for once you aren’t irritated at the noise – instead, you just think of how much you will actually miss your loud heating unit once paige processes the situation and kicks you out of your apartment in the dead of winter. 

you think it can’t get any worse, until another audio starts playing and a self-satisfied grin stretches across paiges face. “you have like 70 videos in here.”

somebody kill me.

the original silence is filled with mr. lover lover, and there is absolutely no way you can “it’s for the hype” your way out of this. she continues scrolling. you stare helplessly at the floor. after what you can only guess is six or seven incriminating edits, she pauses, her jaw clenching inexplicably. here it comes. 'get out of my apartment' – 'i can’t look at you the same anymore'. you’re so cooked. fried, even.

“whatchu got caitlin saved in here for?”

what?

you must’ve voiced that thought out loud, because she responds. “you got a thing for iowa players too?”

your brows furrow. this was not the direction you thought this would be going in. instead, theres an edge cutting through paige’s words that you can’t quite place. is she still pissed? you let out a nervous laugh. “relax, paige, it’s not like i’m making wedding plans with her.”

paige stiffens. “it’s enough for a save-the-date.”

“paige, it’s like a 30 to 1 ratio.”

“yeah, our points ratio is 30:1 too.”

what the hell? first of all, you watch enough basketball to know that's not true. second of all, again, what the hell? 

“i mean, it’s fine, i get it.” paige shrugs, suddenly uninterested in your phone. she tosses it on the couch and you (slowly) slip it into your pocket before she can change her mind. “i just think it’s funny you watch her when you literally live with someone better.”

“better at what?” paige splutters. “basketball.” 

suddenly, it clicks. you sit, quiet, stunned for a second. “paige, if i didn’t know any better i’d say you sound jealous.”

“it’s not jealousy! it’s.. like, respect.” paige gestures wildly, and you’d almost believe her if there wasn’t a flush creeping up her neck.  you raise a brow. “respect?” “we share a netflix account! and you’re saving edits of my competition!” “you’re totally jealous.” 

paige looks cornered, backing towards the kitchen. her gaze falls to the floor. “i just think, like, i dunno – i just think i care about you and i’m right here and you’re saving edits of caitlin freakin’ clark.”

you can’t help the laugh that escapes, the absurdity of this situation catching up to you. somewhere in the back of your mind, you see the orange muppet again. 

“what’s so funny?”

“you’re just –” you take a deep breath. “i can’t believe your jealous over a caitlin clark edit. you act like we’re together or something.”

“maybe i wanna be.”

paige freezes. you freeze. the heater kicks off. you're moving before you can think about it, standing in front of her. her eyes stay trained to the floor.

“i’m sorry. i just – you drive me crazy.”

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

she finally glances up, a smile cracking. “it’s not.”

“then what are you gonna do about it?”

her hand is on your jawline in an instant, and the nervousness bubbling in your chest is finally cut off with her lips on yours. when you pull away, she’s grinning.

“30:1 edit ratio, huh?”

your face heats, and you push your head against her chest. “not funny, paige.”

“i’ll make a new folder for you – poor decisions, filled with caitlin clark edits.”

"alright that's enough."

[cherie-doll]

i hope the day is good for you 🫶🏻 (english is not my first language) can you please write a story with cod men, about what would they do when the reader doesnt make it home from the mission - like they are waiting at home for her but she's dead.

thx for submitting love <33

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: They Waited For You

౨ৎ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

He didn't believe it at first, there was just no way... he immediately got to verifying all his sources, even went down to talk to the other soldiers who had been a part of your team

You were supposed to come home, he expected you to come back to him, safe and sound like always but instead of falling asleep and exhausted in his arms like you should've been by tonight, your corpse was out there somewhere missing his embrace

He thought of how he could've prevented this from happening, yes he still blamed himself for anything bad that happened to you despite it not being in his hands, maybe if he could've kept you from going, why did you even feel the need to continue doing this?

There was no one else he cared for as much as he did for you, which truly said a lot of your relationship, but since he met you he felt an overwhelming urge to show love like he'd never done before, nothing else on earth deserved this dedication like you did

He deteriorated rather quickly, the mornings became grim and he couldn't bear to see the sun setting without thinking of how much you loved letting the rays caress your arms and let your eyes take in that golden light, you looked so beautiful in those moments

Ghost

Since he met you, there was finally a stage in his life he could think of purely, sure the relationship wasn't perfect, but this was something he could be reminded of and he didn't have to fight to keep it hidden in the back of his mind, he let the memories emerge to the surface and ponder about them

It had been something pleasant but it had been ripped out of his hands far sooner than he would've wanted, his fantasy that had become a corrupted reality, it makes him want to die, badly, but he always found a way to survive the deadliest situations, somehow he always did; as if he was cursed with immortality

But this? He felt no desperation urging him to dig out of the hole he was sinking into, the walls closing in on him from all sides and he made no effort to push it away, it felt sort of relieving being cramped and paralyzed since he couldn't see the path ahead of him, with you it had become so obvious and clear what he wanted but now there was nothing worth moving towards

Did life always want something from him? Just when he thought he lost everything he could lose, there was always something else being pried out of him, it was painful because it was forcefully taken away just when he was getting attached, when there was no foreseeable evil trying to destroy him there was some good, and you had been the best unexpected thing in his life

Soap

You were like an illusion he had always dreamed of and finally were achieved, a life so dreamy and ideal he thought would never be in his reach, but he had been permitted to have it for a short while with you

Within your time together a love so beautiful had bloomed, it was sweet how sublime it had felt, you had been youthful, still beaming with so much life within you but tragically cut short, those years had gone and went unused

He couldn't find the sense within him to comprehend why it had to be you, your death had been like a cold slap to the face, he had once again become aware of the disheartening reality he lived in, that nothing was secure nor did everything stay the same forever

Well, he knew about the forever part, but did it have to come so soon? He had to gather the strength within him to continue forward and he wasn't even sure of that, there was still so much left unsaid, so much still to be done, and how frustrated he was that it would all be forgotten and left unfulfilled

A sadness like no other would coat his existence, swallow him up and change him beyond recognition, his mind would be invaded by memories of you that will replay until they burned and ceased to exist... the day he ceased to exist

Gaz

All those days that he had spent with you had been the most fulfilling days he had ever experienced, he could remember the warmth of your hand, the weight of your body asleep next to him on the mattress, the security knowing you valued his affection and returned it

He truly felt the happiest with you and he wished to be encased in that happiness forever, but how naive it was of him to think it was possible for even a second, life was always moving and throwing hurdles at us that seem impossible to avoid, it's only a matter of time misfortunes come to us all

By simply contemplating and reminiscing, he felt grief beyond help and any consolation couldn't do much for him, wistful memories came to him and he could not sleep at night, all they did was leave a dark imprint on his mind

His caring nature did not change, he thought with time he could heal and learn to move on, but some things never change, and a sore spot still brings pain when pressed too hard, he would mull over this no matter how painful it was to do so

How he misses to hold you in this moment and kiss you

Roach

The news of your death came like a hard blow to his face, and he was left clutching his chest, eyes watering with tears as he desperately tried to cling onto some comforting memory in his mind

Restlessness follows immediately, even at night sleep does not come to him no matter what he does, the memories you shared seemed to tear him apart rather than anything help him, but he didn't want to forget you either

He knew he couldn't get you back and he had lost you forever in this life, panting and gasping he would awaken from his nightmares, the little sleep he got would do nothing to comfort him, and you weren't there to comfort him, to silently hold nor ease with your voice in his ear

His mind wanted to deceive his heart, make him believe you were somewhere far away but still thinking of him, that he could close his eyes and imaging resting his head on your shoulders, basking in serenity as he lost himself in the waves that lulled him

Alejandro

He was overtaken by bitterness and anger, his better judgement was clouded far beyond reason at the most valuable treasure in his life forever gone, the feeling of longing would become a hole he'd spend his days trying to fill with wrongful acts

All he wanted and needed was your touch to remind him reality was there and not as cruel as he thought, you had still met and loved in your time and nothing could take away what had already been done, he could live blissfully in life knowing you had known each other

But could he be satisfied with that? He could strongly feel the ties that bound you together still tug at his heart, and every year he remembered you, would set an altar for you and fill it with what were your favorite foods and things

He would stare at your imagine, remembering how he once had kissed those lips, stared into your sparkling eyes that watched him endearingly, your face he had held within his hands...

He could never have that back

Rudy

He missed delicately tracing your face, his fingertip raising softly over every curve and line, your silhouette against the wall when you rose that morning, early so you could still say your goodbyes to him and tell him to expect you back very soon, this one wouldn't be too long you said

You had left him a content man, he'd sit around the house and wait, he would take it easy these days because you'd be back soon, but he wasn't ready to withstand the tumult he'd find himself in

His heart had become haggard in the days following your death, he had absorbed every bit of warmth and clung to the last signs that you had left behind, he wished he had been there, to ease your last painful moments before death, how much did that train of thought torment him, day and night it ran through his mind

In sleep, he dreamt of terrible ways you had encountered death, surely, you didn't have a peaceful one, you were healthy and fit to make it, something terrible must have happened but no matter how much he wished to know the cause of your death it wasn't given, most likely for the best to remain unknown

Phillip Graves

He often boasted of having you in his life, it was such a fortunate occurrence when you met that he didn't think it was entirely a coincidence, he loved doting on you and hold you in his arms knowing you were there for him

You had already confirmed the date of your return, but that day came and passed and there was no sign of you, worse yet no message or word had been heard on your part, it was he who had to dig and find out that you had been KIA

It felt like a strong blow to his chest to have you ripped away from him, he knew the harsh reality and danger he was constantly under, he just never imagined it would get to you one day

You shouldn't have paid for his sins or errors, he wished you had stayed out of the battle, but you had your own life to carve out and ultimately it had been your decision

Much time would have to pass before he'd be able to say your name, for the longest time he'd whisper it, as if afraid it'd shatter his reality even more, staying in the air reminding him of what he lost

Makarov

You were forever gone from his grasp, how was he to cope with that? The fire that had warmed his insides, making every act of his be out of love for you suddenly halted, reduced to nothing but ashes and now he was left to sweep the heaps of it

The emptiness growing and knowing there wasn't a piece to fit or make him whole again like you, you were a unique piece, the edges weren't cut with delicacy that an experienced hand could replicate, there wasn't a mold to follow to shape something else into you

You sprung out of chaos and spontaneity with ease, there was a lightheartedness you brought out in him that brought out the best in him, all of it offered to you who didn't greedily take but lovingly returned

He didn't want to believe someone like you could just be taken away from him and have nothing done about it, just when he thought he could be tender he'd return to his old ways, the resentment stronger than ever and tied to his heart, obscuring and consuming him

Keegan

How despairing did this turn out for him, never had he imagined he'd lose you, all that time he had spent training with you, preparing for when the worst could happen and each time you had managed to slip away, always

Except this time you weren't fast enough, he knew those shoulders held up a levelheaded person, who confidently calculated their every move, it was unfair you had been taken

His brows are now furrowed, thinking this just has to be some sort of protocol you're following, faking a death isn't all that uncommon, maybe you were still alive out there, hiding away somewhere for your safety, each day he held the pitiful hope that you'd come back to him, then he'd nurse your injuries and help you stand back up

But moons waxed and waned and you didn't appear, and he couldn't hold the fragments of you close to his heart if you wouldn't be around to reignite them and make them come true again

His palm that had curled, clutching the remnants loosed and he had to give up that foolish dream and accept reality as it was being presented

König

Was it cruel if he wished it was you who had received the news instead of him? He thought it would have been that way, he often joked about the benefits you'd get when he passed, it wasn't supposed to be you to leave earlier than him

Relaxed he was sitting in the armchair until he received the terrible news, his breaths became desperate as he tried to get air into his lungs, he wanted to march down there to the field himself to collect you, to not believe it just yet

Maybe you'd be down there, hiding away in some corner like the sly fox you were and say you had managed to dodge the bullet this time

But he was disappointed with the outcome of things, he hated it when things didn't follow the path he set for them but no one could have controlled the outcome of this course, it had left a profound wound in his heart he wasn't sure he'd be able to heal from

You had parted without saying your goodbyes and now he wouldn't be able to live with that, to live longer still with you in the back of his mind

Horangi

He hated anything that brought the slightest trace of despair, and he dealt horribly with it, he ran on pure serendipity but now he couldn't count on that, was it by being at the wrong place and time you had been one of the lives lost, the most important one to him

He felt the urge to go back to his old ways of numbing out the pain, but he pushed that temptation away, it would only drain his money and everything he had worked for go to waste, he knew you wouldn't have wanted that for him and right now he just wished to keep the traces of you very much alive and present

He wanted to go about his days as if you were still there, the flower you planted, he tried to keep it alive and water it, the way you left your stuff around the house, that way it was easier to transport himself to a time when you were there with him, still at home

The people of the past are hard to forget but he didn't mind, he faced the situation with more determination than he himself expected, he was surprised at the resolve he had come up with

He had loved without regret, and with every passing day he'd be closer to reuniting with you again

Nikto

The only sound occupying the complete silence is the static in his mind, he's just numb, doesn't know what to do, what he should do with whatever emotions he's trying to detect, he must feel something

He was just delivered the worst news of his life, he should be breaking down and crying but he can barely even process the fact that you really are gone, he looses his train of thought every five seconds and can only stare forward as if in a trance he's unable to escape out of

He feels the long seconds drag by but he can't get up from his fixed spot on the chair, it's like a knife has been plunged into his side and pulled out, leaving the gaping wound pulsating softly, but he can barely hear his flesh scream out in pain, he can only feel the blood oozing out, staining his clothes and falling to the floor in droplets as he actively ignores it

He is hurt but can only clutch at it, he can't get up, feels far too comfortable sitting on this kitchen chair staring forward to the wall, elbows resting on his knees

[faithsotherhouseofchaos]

This is a really specific request so it's absolutely fine if you don't feel comfortable doing it but protective Liam standing up for his autistic gf to her dad or older man family member who keeps being willfully ignorant and making comments

Support||Liam Lawson x fem!autistic!reader

Word count—769

Liam’s patience finally snapped as the older man—her father—leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. The latest comment had been the tipping point.

“I just don’t get why everything has to be so complicated with you,” her father said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You make a big deal out of nothing, and it’s like… people walk on eggshells around you. Life doesn’t work like that.”

Liam glanced at his girlfriend, who sat rigidly beside him. Her eyes were fixed on her lap, her fingers twisting anxiously around the hem of her shirt. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to shrink into herself, and it made his blood boil.

“Enough,” Liam said, his voice firm and steady.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said enough,” Liam repeated, standing. “This isn’t okay. And it hasn’t been okay for a long time.”

Her father leaned forward, clearly affronted. “Listen, young man—”

“No, you listen,” Liam cut him off, his tone sharp but controlled. “I’ve sat here all night listening to you talk down to her, dismiss her feelings, and act like her autism is some kind of inconvenience for you. And I’m done with it.”

Her father blinked, clearly unused to being challenged. “I’m not being dismissive. I’m just saying she makes things harder than they need to be. Back in my day, people didn’t have all these labels. We just got on with life.”

Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. And how’s that working out for you? Ignoring reality doesn’t make it go away. It just makes you blind to it. Autism isn’t a ‘label.’ It’s part of who she is. And what you call ‘making things harder’ is just her trying to exist in a world that wasn’t built for people like her.”

“She’s fine,” her father said dismissively. “She just needs to toughen up.”

Liam’s voice rose, his frustration spilling out. “She’s already tougher than you’ll ever understand! Do you have any idea how much courage it takes for her to face people like you every day? To advocate for herself when people constantly dismiss her? You’re supposed to be her family. You’re supposed to support her. And instead, you make her feel small.”

“Liam…” his girlfriend murmured, tugging at his arm. Her voice was quiet, but there was a waver in it that broke his heart.

He turned to her, his expression softening. “No, you don’t deserve this,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been putting up with this for too long, and it’s not fair to you.”

Her father threw up his hands. “Oh, come on. I’m her father. I know her better than you do. She’s just being dramatic.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, and he turned back to the older man. “You don’t know her better than she knows herself. And if you think this is ‘dramatic,’ then you haven’t been paying attention. She’s told you what she needs. She’s told you how to support her. And every time, you’ve ignored it. Do you have any idea how much that hurts her? How much that undermines her?”

Her father opened his mouth, but Liam didn’t let him speak. “You think you’re the authority on her life because you’re her dad? You’re not. She is. And it’s about time you started listening to her instead of dismissing everything she says. Because if you keep this up, you’re going to lose her.”

The words hit like a hammer, and her father’s bravado faltered. For a moment, he looked genuinely unsure of himself.

“She’s not asking for anything unreasonable,” Liam continued, his voice quieter now but still firm. “She just wants to be understood. Respected. Loved for who she is, not who you think she should be. That’s not coddling. That’s what family is supposed to do.”

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of his girlfriend taking a shaky breath. She looked up at Liam, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Liam turned back to her father, his tone softening just slightly. “You still have a chance to fix this. But it starts with you admitting that you’ve been wrong. And it starts with you trying. Really trying.”

Her father looked down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. For the first time that evening, he seemed to be grappling with Liam’s words.

Liam reached for his girlfriend’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You’re not alone in this,” he said to her softly, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not anymore.”

[redpill-tfs]

Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

[missyscorner]

𝘊𝘢𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 — 𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘰 𝘉.

𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘻𝘰 𝘉𝘦𝘳𝘬𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘹 𝘍𝘦𝘮!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Synopsis: Lorenzo was never big on relationships; he had only ever been in one — one which resulted in heartbreak and him sulking in his room for a month. Since then, he’s vowed to only have meaningless sex with girls, nothing more. When the two of you have sex one drunken night, you agree to have sex with no attachments. But one of you wants more.

Warnings: Suggestive content (no actual smut), vulgar language, very short, there’s one mention of Y/n (I’m so sorry), dialogue-heavy, not proofread, angst, & no happy ending.

Songs: Casual by Chappell Roan, Kaleidoscope by Chappell Roan, Somethin’ Stupid by Frank Sinatra & Nancy Sinatra, & Dealer by Lana Del Rey.

A/N: Hello! This is the first time I’m actually posting something I’ve written so I hope it’s not too much of a letdown. It was written on a whim so please ignore any inconsistencies or repetitive words.

There’s chatter scattered throughout the Slytherin common room, most of it coming from the group of boys sprawled out on the velvet green sofa — most of it coming from Draco complaining about Harry. You weren’t paying much attention to him, though. Your eyes were glued on Lorenzo staring at you with a sly grin.

When Draco had finished his monologue on his supposed enemy, Theodore was done with three missing assignments in Transfiguration, and Blaise had counted all the ice in his glass twenty-two separate times. You, however, had been gone the moment his speech had hit the ten-minute mark. As much as you loved Draco, you could not bear to listen to him talk for another moment. So, instead, you stood in front of your mirror, pinning your hair up. You wore a long, flowy, cream-colored nightgown, one that cascaded down your body so, very elegantly.

“Cute.” You hear the familiar voice echo from behind you, a small smile plays on your lips as you see Lorenzo’s reflection locking the door. Then, you feel his arms wrap tightly around your waist.

“You’re early,” you whisper, to which he only groans against your neck in response. “You should really start knocking, as well.”

“Missed you.” He leaves a feather-like kiss on the exposed skin of your shoulder, ignoring your lecture.

A light pink flushes across your cheeks, and his hand moves lower. You feel his breath fan against your collarbone, making you instinctively close your eyes.

“You were looking at me quite a bit today, I think you may need to tone it down, Enz. The others may start suspecting something.” Your voice is breathy, but you can’t help it. Not when his hands touch you like they are.

“Would that be a bad thing?” He pulls away, moving his hands to your lower back, gently leading you to your bed.

The mattress molds beneath your body, and his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, it tastes like coffee and honey. It almost takes away from the harsh reality of the situation — you’re lying in bed with a man who does not feel anything for you. The kiss is cruel, it tastes bitter and deceitful.

You pull away, “Enzo, stop.”

He does. His body moves away from yours.

“Are you okay?” He asks, almost as if panicked.

“Yeah.” Lie. “I just — um, I’m not really feeling it, y’know?” Liar.

“Oh.” He swallows, “Right. I’ll be on my way, then.”

You watch him leave, and a pit forms in your stomach. It resides there for the rest of the night.

The next day, you sit in the courtyard, eyes scanning the words of your book, Lorenzo quietly slides onto the bench next to you.

“Whatcha’ doing?” He looks over your shoulder, startling you slightly.

“Gods — you scared me.” You hear a mumbled apology, closing your book. “What do you want?”

“Why do you always assume I want something? What if I just wanted to say hi to my favorite girl?”

“It’s never just ‘saying hi’ with you, Lorenzo.” There’s a bite in your tone.

“Are you mad at me or something?”

This isn’t fair to him, being mean because he doesn’t want you isn’t fair. You agreed to this, you agreed to emotionless sex; it isn’t his fault it’s not emotionless for you anymore. It’s not his fault he looks at you with the softest eyes, it’s not his fault he touches you so sweetly, it’s not his fault you cling to every moment with him and analyze every second of it. It’s not his fault.

“No, sorry. I’ve just had a rough day, not your fault.” You force a friendly smile.

“Oh. Maybe I can cheer you up, then.” He says, “I have something I want to show you at sunset. I’ll come find you.”

His lips meet your forehead, placing a gentle kiss. Asshole.

You should’ve said no to him, told him to fuck off, and ended things. You would’ve said no if you had gotten the chance to, if he hadn’t kissed your forehead — you probably would’ve said no. Maybe. Definitely. No. No, you wouldn’t have. As much as you resent him for it, he has you in his pocket; from that first night with him, he’s had you in his pocket. He knows that, too.

Three soft knocks fall at your door, opening it, you see Lorenzo standing opposite of you. He’s wearing medium-wash jeans and a plain white tee, his hair is wet and perfectly messy.

“Hey,” his voice is raspier than usual.

“Hi.” You lock the door behind you, and his hand intertwines with yours. “So, where are we going?”

“It’s a secret, my dear. But I can tell you, you’re going to think it’s beautiful.”

“You’re so sure of yourself.”

He snorts in response, “That’s because I know you, and I know you’ll like it. You’re easily impressed.”

“Fuck you.” You roll your eyes.

“Right now? In the middle of the corridor? Scandalous.” He fakes a gasp, and your cheeks taint a light pink.

He leads you out of the castle and to a secluded spot of the Black Lake, trees overlook the area, and the setting sun reflects off the water most beautifully.

“Take off your dress.” His voice sounds from behind you.

“Excuse me?”

“No, I meant — we’re going swimming — not… that.”

“Enzo, I’m not getting in that water. It’s cold out.” You turn around to see him already undressing.

“It’s fine.” He stands shirtless in his boxers, “And I promise if you get hypothermia or drown or something, I’ll save you.” He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

“From hypothermia?” You raise an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

“Yup. I’ll warm you up with my body heat.” He promises.

“That’s not how it works.”

“Whatever,” he drags his word out, “You’re being too critical. I’m getting in, you can follow if you’d like.” Another forehead kiss.

A sigh escapes your lip as he carefully treads into the water, ultimately, you end up unzipping your dress, leaving you in your underwear. You go after him.

“See? It’s not bad.” His hand grabs yours, helping you in. Don’t read into it, he’s just being kind.

“No, it’s fucking horrible.” Your torso is now engulfed by the cold water.

“Give it a minute, baby, your body will adjust to the temperature.”

In moments like this, you hate Lorenzo. You hate how much influence over you, you hate how you’re ready to agree to anything he says; you think, maybe if you’re willing enough it’ll change how he feels about you.

Your body finally acclimates to the water, it’s slightly more bearable now. Lorenzo guides you further into the water, keeping a firm arm around your waist. Abruptly, he pulls you under, then, you feel his lips on yours. You get a warm feeling in your tummy, it makes your head go fuzzy, and you know it’s time to pull away. Yet, your lips stay on his for a second longer before you swim to the surface for air, Lorenzo follows soon after.

“You asshole, I could’ve drowned!” You smack his chest, water splashing the both of you.

“I wouldn’t have let you drown, put some faith in me.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes.

You sigh, returning to the bay. His voice calls after you, then, you hear him swim back as well. You’re already halfway done with zipping up your dress by the time he gets to you. Presumably, he takes the hint because he’s now putting his jeans back on. However, with his back facing you, you notice something: red scratches. You hadn’t had sex in a week and a half.

“What are those?” You question.

“What are what?” He turns around, genuine confusion painted on his face.

“Those. The scratches.”

“Oh, right. Um, just some girl. Don’t worry about it.” Just some girl? Is that how he speaks of you when you’re not around — when another girl asks where he got the marks on his back?

“Really?” He doesn't owe you loyalty, you think, no, but he owes you decency. “You’ve been seeing other girls?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, then notices your expression. “You can’t seriously be angry. I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“Obviously, it’s a big deal.”

“Truly, it is not. You’re overreacting.”

“So, you’d be okay with me sleeping around with other men?” Silence. “Exactly.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t agree to this. You were perfectly fine with us just fucking each other a few month ago.” His voice raises slightly.

“Well, I don’t want to ‘just fuck’ anymore, Lorenzo!” A long pause of quiet surrounds the two of you.

“Y/n, you know — you know I can’t do that.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

Stillness.

“We probably should stop this,” you suggest.

“Probably.”

Swallowing harshly, you put on your shoes. He hugs you for what you assume to be the last time, kissing the top of your head.

“If it’s any consolation, I love you. I just don’t think a relationship with me would be the best thing for you, lovely. I’ve got a lot of shit to work through before I’d be good for anyone, and you, especially, don’t deserve to be subjected to that.” His voice cracks, “You deserve someone with the ability to commit and love you to the fullest extent. I wish that person could be me, but I know that I’d hurt you, and I refuse to do that.”

Looking up at him, you see a tear fall from his eye. Then, you feel a tear fall from your own. His hand wipes your dampened cheeks dry, and he whispers delicate comforts. It’s cruel, the way he makes you cry and then wipes it all away.

You move back, taking in his soft features for the last time before walking away. He doesn’t offer to walk you back, he doesn’t say goodbye, he lets you go. Sobbing, you walk back to the castle. Sobbing, you make it to your dorm. Sobbing, you accept that you’ll never be in his arms again, gently brushing through his hair with your fingers, or counting his light freckles. You let that knowledge rip you apart from the inside out. It hurts, but it’s out of your control.

Divider Creds: @milklemondrop

[fluff-lover]

Healing Touch: Jealousy

A little drabble inside Healing Touch, but can be read as a stand alone.

A/N: This takes place after reader/Angel and Logan get together, around chapter 6 (it’s not posted yet)

Logan’s not the “flowers and chocolates” type of guy. He was too “tough” for those corny things, or at least that’s what he likes to think.

But you know he can be tender and thoughtful so when you had flowers delivered to you one morning, you didn’t question it. You giggled with excitement as you placed the flowers in a vase and set them on your desk. They really gave the school’s infirmary a pop of color.

You were supposed to help Hank with some paperwork but you were too distracted looking at the beautiful combination of flowers, your belly filled with butterflies as you thought about Logan and how special he made you feel.

The last bell of the day rang and you could hear the kids rushing through the halls. Finally the day was over. You opened the door and looked around the hall, expecting to see Logan making his way to the infirmary. And he didn’t disappoint.

Since the two of you got together you built a little routine: you saw each other in the infirmary after class to catch up, then you had dinner with the rest of the team, and then he would sneak to your bedroom for some alone time. Logan still chose to sleep by himself in his own room, although it was starting to get harder and harder to say goodnight, both of you just wanting to sleep in the same bed, holding each other. But his fear of hurting you in his sleep was bigger, so this routine was enough, for now at least.

As he made his way to the infirmary he saw you standing by the door with the biggest, most lovely smile on your face, and he felt himself floating to you.

“Hey, little angel.” He greeted you.

“Hi!” you giggled and pulled him inside by his arm.

After kicking the door shut you basically threw yourself at him, arms and legs wrapping around him as you kissed him. Logan was caught by surprise but still managed to catch you mid air without dropping you. The kiss was deep and passionate, the type of kiss you reserved for whenever you were alone in your bedroom. When you finally pulled back you two were breathless

“Someone is in a good mood.” Logan observed, panting. “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Mhmmm.” You hummed, eyelids half closed, a smile on your face. “I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.”

Logan blinked.

“What flowers?”

You could swear you heard the sound of a record scratching.

“You didn’t send me flowers?” You asked, slowly “climbing” down Logan. He stared at you.

“No, I didn’t.” 

It’s hard to tell what was bigger: your disappointment or his confusion.

At that Logan spotted the flowers on your desk. He gently pulled aside before stomping to the desk to inspect it. You watched him as he looked around the flowers until he found a little card tucked between the stems. 

You facepalmed, how did you not think about checking first?

“To my little angel -your secret admirer.” Logan read out loud, rage building up in his chest.

“I thought they were from you.” You said shyly. “You’re the only one that calls me that.”

“Well, clearly I’m not!” He said. “And I’m not so much of a secret admirer, am I?”

“I’m sorry.” you looked down. 

With a huff, Logan picked up the flowers and walked out of the infirmary. You frowned in confusion and followed him.

“Where are you going?” You asked, but he didn’t reply, instead he kept walking.

Logan bursted into the teachers’ lounge room with an imposing stance, making the room go quiet very fast.

“Who the FUCK sent flowers to MY girl?” He growled before throwing the bouquet on a table. 

You could hear a pin drop. Everyone looked shocked, and some even a little bit scared. After a moment you heard someone cough.

“Um, that was me.” Alex Summers said. “I didn’t know you two had become a thing...”

You thought Logan would kill him. His breathing picked up, his nose flared and his fists clenched, eyes throwing daggers at him.

Alex didn’t wish for a fight, but if it was needed he was ready to defend himself.

“Logan…” You whispered before placing your hand on his arm. You were the only person that could calm him down. Your touch always seemed to ground him. “It’s okay, he didn’t know.”

Logan bared his teeth to Alex as a final warning before turning to you. His eyes softened instantly. He didn’t want to scare you and you looked upset already, he didn’t like that. He walked to Alex, and the young man squared up his shoulders, ready for a confrontation.

“Logan…” You insisted.

“You try something like this ever again and I will end you.” Logan threatened before turning and walking out the room.

Everyone stood in silence, too shaken up to do or say something.

You looked at the flowers on the table, all torn and ruined, and your heart broke.

… you really liked those flowers. 

-

No one knew where Logan was. After the altercation he took off, god knows where, and hadn’t come back yet. The sun was setting and you were worried. You considered calling him, but instead you chose to send him a text letting him know you’d wait for him at your usual bench.

Sitting there you took a moment to think. You were sad that the flowers weren’t from Logan. You couldn’t care less about Alex, or anyone else for that matter. But you wanted to believe Logan liked you enough to do sweet gestures like sending flowers. Maybe he really wasn’t that type of man, and as much as the idea of never getting flowers hurt you, you knew you’d have to get used to it. Logan expressed his affection in other ways, and that was enough for you.

You were also surprised by how possessive Logan seemed to be about you. Never in a million years you’d think he would fight another man over you. That was the last thing you wanted for him.

That being said, there was a tiny little part of you that was flattered. The way Logan called you HIS girl in a room filled with people made your heartbeat pick up. This was enough for you to know you were in his mind, and he didn’t need to send flowers for people to know you belonged to him.

Suddenly Logan appeared by your side and your eyes almost fell out of their sockets. 

He was holding a big bouquet of red roses, a teddy bear and a box of chocolates. You couldn’t decide whether this was the most romantic thing you’ve ever seen, or if he just looked ridiculous. This was so out of character for him.

“What the…?” You said getting up from the bench.

“Hear me out.” Logan said as he stepped closer. “I know I acted like an asshole and I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t.” You reassured him.

“Yeah, well… Still, I shouldn’t have acted out like that. I think I was jealous.”

“You think?” you teased, making him roll his eyes.

“I don’t like the idea of Alex, or anyone else for that matter, to swoop in and take you away.”

You felt yourself melting.

“Oh Logan, that’s never gonna happen.” 

“It should happen if I don’t treat you right.” He said.

“What do you mean?” You asked, confused.

“I never sent you flowers.” Logan said with shame, as if it was an embarrassing thing to admit. “And then some random guy does and it makes me look bad.” He shook his head. “I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not, don’t say that.” you shook your head.

“I don’t know how to do this whole… relationship thing.” He said, cringing at his own election of words. “But I’m trying, okay? I really want to do things right. So…” He looked down at the gifts. “I got my girl some flowers and… stuff.” Poor guy, he was really trying.

You smiled and reached out to take the flowers from him.

“Red roses… that’s very romantic.” You giggled before sniffing a flower and sighing happily. “Thank you Logan, I love them.” You stood on your toes and pecked his lips. He smiled widely, the type of smile that steals your breath away every. single. time. 

You took the rest of his gifts and walked back to his bedroom with him.

Later that night you looked at the flowers on your desk, lit only by your bedside table. The box of chocolates was open and half empty, and the teddy bear was on your dresser facing the wall because according to Logan, “he shouldn’t see what papa was about to do to mama”.

And what a show it was!

Logan laid between your legs, with his head on your chest after some intense love making. You ran your hands through his hair and he hummed happily.

“That was… something.” you said exhausted and giggled. Logan propped himself up and smiled down at you. The way he looked at you made you blush shyly, even after everything you just did. There was a softness in his eyes that was reserved only for you.

“Something good I hope.” He joked.

“Baby it’s a good thing I can heal fast, because otherwise I don’t think I would be able to walk tomorrow.” you laughed.

“Good, good.” Logan said proudly before caressing your cheek. “I know that now everyone is aware that you’re my girl, but just to be sure…” You watched him take his dog tags and place them in your hand.

“Lo…” You gasped.

“That way everyone will know.” He said. You quickly put them on and once they sat on your chest Logan leaned in and kissed you.

Not only were you his girl, but by giving you his tags he was also saying “I’m yours.”

Logan Howlett was your man.

-

Tag list: (let me know if you don't want to be tagged in drabbles)

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[myonexox]

Enhypen Jay Oneshot

pairing : boyfriend!jay x female!reader pov : he kisses your forehead during an argument to calm you down the atmosphere in the living room was tense. you stood with your arms crossed and your eyes locked with jay's. his sharp jawline was set as he stared back at you, equally frustrated.

"i just don’t understand why you can’t see my side of things!" you exclaimed, your voice breaking slightly, betraying the hurt underneath your anger. "every time we have a disagreement, you shut me out instead of talking to me!"

he let out a sigh, running a hand through his jet-black hair. "it’s not that i don’t want to talk to you" he said, his voice lower but no less firm. "sometimes i just need time to process things. why can’t you understand that?"

"because it feels like you’re pushing me away!" you shot back, your chest rising and falling as you tried to control your anger. "i’m your girlfriend, jay. i’m supposed to be the one you can talk to, not the one you avoid"

the room seemed to shrink as the weight of your words settled between you. his lips parted as if to respond but he hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. the silence was deafening and the lump in your throat grew heavier.

finally, he looked up, his eyes softer now. "i’m not good at this" he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "i’m not good at... expressing myself. but it doesn’t mean i don’t care"

you opened your mouth to respond but the words caught in your throat as your emotions surged. frustration, hurt, love, they all tangled together, making it hard to think clearly. "then show me, jay" you said, your voice trembling. "show me that you care instead of shutting me out every time things get hard"

he took a step closer to you. "you think i don’t want to?" he said, his tone more pleading now. "you think it’s easy for me to see you upset and not know how to fix it?"

"then stop making it so complicated!" you shot back, your voice raising again. "stop making me feel like i’m the only one fighting for this relationship!"

before you could say anything more, he closed the distance between you in one swift movement. his hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

the gesture caught you completely off guard, your breath hitching as you felt the warmth of his lips on your skin. "i’m sorry" he murmured against your forehead, his voice soft and sincere. "i don’t mean to hurt you. i’m trying, i swear"

your arms which had been tensely crossed, slowly dropped to your sides. the fight drained out of you, replaced by a mix of confusion and tenderness. you pulled back slightly just enough to look into his eyes which were now filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

"jay..." you began but the words failed you. instead, you rested your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. jay’s hands slid down to rest on your waist, pulling your body closer to him. "i'm so sorry, please forgive me. i know i shouldn't do that to you, i shouldn't shut you out like that. i'm sorry. please, i promise i won't do that again. i don’t want to lose you over my stupid pride"

you looked at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his words. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your head to rest on his chest. "forgive me, hm?" he mumbled. you softly chuckled and just nodded.

[f1ora1f1owerswrites]

little things

Summary: the small things that Jake does that differentiate him from "Hangman."

Warnings: NO use of y/n, she/her mentioned, established relationship

Word Count: 687

a/n: i really really love this one, i tried my best to capture my perception of jake! i hope you like it! :) reblogs, likes, and comments always appreciated <3.

***

Most people knew Jake as Hangman—cocky, confident, and never without a sarcastic quip ready for whatever challenge the world threw at him. In the skies, he was fearless, always a playful grin on his face. His reputation as an aviator was built on confidence, sharp skill, and an ego that matched his abilities. But, at home, when the door to your shared apartment clicked shut behind him, he was different. He was just Jake.

You had seen sides of him that the world never would. The small, tender things he did that no one could know but you. The things that made your heart swell without him ever realizing it.

It started with the little details—like when you came home after a long day and, no matter how tired and sore he was, he’d have dinner ready. It wasn’t some gourmet meal, just simple comfort food, but it was always exactly what you needed. As you walked through the door, you could smell it, the warmth of his effort filling the space before you even saw him.

“You’re late,” he’d joke, tossing you a mischievous grin over his shoulder as he stirred something in a pot. “Were you avoiding me again?”

“You know I’m not avoiding you, Seresin,” you’d say, crossing the room to wrap your arms around his waist. “Just had a long day.”

And there it was—the subtle shift. His hands would rest over yours for a moment before he’d lean back against you, taking a deep breath, like he was the one who needed this moment of calm, just as much as you did.

After dinner, when you’d lounge on the couch, he’d make sure to throw a blanket over you, even if it was just to watch TV or scroll through your phone. He wasn’t the type to show vulnerability in front of anyone else, but at home, there was a softness to him. Sometimes, when you reached for the remote, he’d catch your hand, fingers warm and steady. Without a word, he’d flip it to your favorite show—sometimes the same one you’d been watching all week—and lean back, content in the silence.

***

It wasn’t just the big gestures that made you fall deeper for him; it was the moments no one else would see. 

Or when you had a bad day, his way of comforting you wasn’t through words. Instead, he’d just pull you into his arms, his large hands brushing through your hair, holding you close until the tension melted from your shoulders. Sometimes he didn’t say a thing, just held you, knowing that was all you needed.

He’d get you a drink from your favorite place on his way home, he would grab your favorite snacks from the store without you asking, or leave notes on the bathroom mirror, small messages reminding you to have a good day or to take care of yourself. You never even had to ask for these things. They were just a part of him—quiet acts of love and care that made you realize how lucky you were to have him.

And even though he would always say it in a teasing way, there was no mistaking how much he meant it when he said, “I got your back, always.”

You could see it, in the way he’d lean over the counter when you were trying to figure out your day, his forehead furrowed in concentration, always making sure you had everything you needed, even when he was buried (sometimes suffocating) in his own responsibilities.

At home, Jake wasn’t Hangman. He wasn’t the confident, cocky aviator who ruled the skies. He was the man who tucked you into bed after a long day, who made sure your water bottle was filled before you fell asleep, who laughed at your jokes even when they were corny. And in those moments, when the world felt like too much, you knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

Because with Jake, it was the little things that made everything feel right.

[jennamoran]

If a strategist from Glitch were to try and go about killing a god (maybe they’ve backslided, maybe the god is just really annoying or trying to kill their friends), how would they go about doing it. What would be the best way to use Eide, Flore, Lore, or Wyrd?

-

Jenna, my readers are always asking me, how do you kill a god? But there is no one size fits all answer to killing gods.

You have to look within yourself.

You have to find the unique way of killing gods that expresses you.

-

Glitch is a game where you tell stories, and an important feature of stories about killing gods is that they are not all the same.

Some are long. Some short.

Some put their protagonists through heck. Some let them just glide through.

Stories can have very different ideas about what it takes, and what it means, to kill a god.

Gods, too, can differ.

-

If you're frustrated, looking at Glitch, trying to find the thing you're supposed to do to accomplish task X, you're misunderstanding the intended flow of play:

To kill a god, decide how you want to kill a god.

Then, express it in the form of actions.

Optionally, discover that you're misaligned with the group zeitgeist on how god-killing stories work, and adjust.

Then, the god dies, or doesn't.

If you're having trouble figuring out how you want to kill a god, then you might need to stick it on a back burner. Over time, you'll have a better understanding not just of the game options the traits provide but of how your character uses them, and some things your character might want to try will gain more dramatic weight in the group zeitgeist.

-

Decide you want to kill a god by shoving it out of your way into the street. Declare that as an everyday Ability action.

Decide you want to kill a god in a complicated flower rite. Declare that as a quest or planning miracle.

Chain it down in a place of sorrow with a Greater Invocation. Erase it with a handwave and your Wyrd. Give in to the wicked voice of your god-killing knife, that whispers to you always, and draw the curtain on the scene, and expect that when the next scene starts it will be dead.

Declare that gods aren't real, and let it poof away.

In every last case, perhaps the group goes, "Yeah, that's a satisfying answer!" Perhaps they don't. If they don't, then your action still "works," in that it happens unless in direct conflict with a stronger action, but it likely doesn't kill the god.

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A secret is that this is not just how Glitch works.

In almost every RPG, the way you make something happen is get the group on board with that thing happening. All rules can do is help that happen.

If the rules of Glitch could make that happen then you wouldn't even have to read them, you wouldn't even have to know you were playing Glitch, you could think you were playing D&D and accidentally play Glitch instead and the rules would sort that out for you.

They can't.

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When it comes to killing gods, the game of Glitch bestows a certain implicit authority on higher-level miracles, particularly epic miracles; miracles that take time to play out; miracles that imply in their description that they're on the right power level for killing gods.

Strategy and Greater Strategy are good ones when they apply, because you can get the players on board during the planning process, spend a while playing it out gathering narrative momentum, and then have it feel well-grounded when it works.

If you have a Talent for killing gods, then that probably works well, but also tends to reframe the game as one where you're killing a bunch of gods and more story time gets spent on the ones where there's a twist that makes it difficult. Think of the Traveller in Black; as competent as the traveller is, they still spend most of their time "in play" dealing with entities that are difficult even for them.

Greater Invocation is well-built for attacking gods.

Destruction and Greater Destruction can be good, though honestly they kind of push the GM to make a complex conflict out of it, which in turn means it's actually the Wailing Rite that would serve you best.

Flore is all kind of of one piece, but you'd definitely want to start with a Greater Glorification on a god-killing weapon.

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If you decide in play to do something that the GM and group think you can probably do, but which they also think should feel difficult and earned, then you probably have to spend some time on either a quest or a spotlight-driven exploration of what's going on with that thing before coming up with a plan people think is cool, executing the plan, and then having the plan mostly work but devolve into some kind of chaotic complex conflict at the end to finish up the final details.

If you decide in play to kill a god ... well, probably the GM and group will believe you can, but also think it should feel difficult and earned. That's kind of what the book implies, at least.

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In the old days---I once wrote this.

In the old days, they didn't know very much about the world. But they made maps anyway. If they had to map something they couldn't, they just drew whatever they felt like and wrote, "Here there be dragons."

We still don't know very much about the world; and there are things to map of it besides its surface.

How do you write a book?

How do you kill a god?

Can broken things be remade? Can destinies change? Is it worth the risk of hope?

Important questions, but one can only shrug, you see:

Here, there be dragons.

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As for Glitch, I mean, like ... the game only has two rules, and they're not even a dozen words between them; some things had to be left as exercises for the reader, and the dreamer, and their group.