#Full Stack Development Partner

[softwaresolutionsworld]

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[regressionschool]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST: A NEW APPROACH TO MARRIAGE?

By Emily Dawson, Investigative Reporter

In an era of rising divorce rates and failing marriages, one company believes they have found a radical yet effective solution—one that redefines the roles within relationships rather than dissolving them.

The "Mommy Knows Best" (MKB) program, developed by Pampers Corporation, offers struggling couples an alternative to separation. Instead of counseling or legal battles, the program transitions one partner—typically the husband—into a fully dependent little.

By removing the stress, ego, and responsibility that often cause marital tension, Pampers claims to create a more balanced, harmonious household where the wife assumes a nurturing role, and the husband embraces a simpler, carefree existence.

To its supporters, it’s a long-overdue revolution. To its critics, it’s a disturbing erasure of masculinity.

“A Man Should Be a Man” – A Former Husband Speaks Out

Not everyone is thrilled with the program. Joseph, 38, once a participant in MKB, now lives alone after divorcing his wife of ten years. He remains a vocal critic of what he calls “forced regression”.

“They stripped men of everything that makes them men,” he says, his jaw tightening. “This isn’t love. It’s control.”

According to Joseph, his wife enrolled him without his full understanding. “She made it sound like therapy,” he scoffs. “Like something that would help us communicate better. But the ‘communication’ part? That was just me being told what to do while I sat there in a… in a… damn diaper.”

His fingers twitch on the table as he hesitates on the word, his cheeks flushing slightly, as if the memory itself still holds power over him.

I ask him how long he was in the program. He sighs. “Seven months.”

And when he left?

He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, avoiding eye contact. “It… took a while to adjust.”

Adjust?

His face darkens. “By the time I got out, I couldn’t even remember how to use the potty—eh, I mean toilet.”

He corrects himself quickly, but the slip is noticeable. A shadow of something uncertain flickers in his expression.

Does he still struggle with… certain habits?

His knee bounces under the table. "No. No, I’m fine now.” But he doesn’t sound convinced.

Though he claims to be fully independent again, he admits that certain instincts—like waiting for permission before making decisions—have been harder to shake.

“They train you to obey,” he mutters bitterly. “And for some guys, I guess that’s fine. But me? I lost everything.”

“He Finally Listens to Me” – A Wife’s Perspective

For Claire, 34, the experience couldn’t have been more different.

Before enrolling her husband, she says their marriage was on the verge of collapse.

“He never listened,” she explains, folding laundry as we talk. “Worked late, ignored housework, expected me to handle everything. It was like having a man-child already, just without the cute parts.”

She gestures toward the living room, where her husband—once a domineering, independent man—now sits in a soft playpen, happily occupied with colorful stacking rings.

He’s sucking a blue pacifier, his thick, crinkly Pampers diaper peeking out from beneath his cozy footed onesie. When Claire strokes his hair, he coos softly, leaning into her touch like an affectionate toddler.

“Now?” she smiles. “He actually listens.”

She explains that, in the past, every conversation turned into an argument. Now, there’s no stubbornness, no backtalk, no stress.

“When I tell him it’s naptime, he lays down. When I say he needs a change, he just giggles and lets me handle it. It’s the first time I’ve felt truly respected as a wife.”

But does he ever resist?

Claire chuckles, shaking her head. “Oh, of course. He still has little moments.”

Right on cue, her husband huffs and crosses his arms. "No change," he pouts, shaking his head. "Diaper fine."

Claire sighs. “Sweetheart, you’re soaked.”

He scowls, his lower lip jutting out petulantly—but when Claire raises an eyebrow, her voice firm yet patient, his resolve wavers.

“If you don’t let me change you,” she warns, “I’m turning off your cartoons for the rest of the day.”

His eyes widen. "Noooo!" He shakes his head frantically, the pacifier bouncing against his chest. “I be good! I be good!”

With a resigned sigh, he clambers onto the changing mat, his thick, swollen diaper squishing loudly beneath him. Claire ruffles his hair affectionately.

“See? So much easier than before,” she says with a smile.

Is This the Future of Marriage?

The Mommy Knows Best program is growing in popularity, with thousands of struggling couples enrolling every year. Pampers Corp reports that over 92% of participants choose to remain in the program permanently, claiming it strengthens marriages, eliminates conflict, and improves household harmony.

Psychologists point to reduced stress, structured routines, and positive reinforcement as key elements of its success.

And, of course, Pampers ensures that no participant ever has to worry about leaks, discomfort, or independence again.

For some, like Joseph, the program represents a loss of identity. But for women like Claire?

She simply smiles. “For the first time in my life, I’m happy. And more importantly?” She glances at her husband, who is now happily sucking his pacifier, waiting to be changed.

“So is he.”

(Sponsored in part by Pampers Corporation. Because a happy marriage starts with a happy little.)

[fancyfeathers]

Burn It All Down

(Yandere!Justice League & Yandere!Young Justice)

Based on Yandere!Justice League with their darling!children AU

Previous Chapter <- Interlude I, Weighted Blanket -> Next Chapter

This chapter is told from the perspective of Hal Jordan’s Darling!Reader

This is different from a full chapter, think of interludes in this story as flashbacks to when things were normal, or as normal as they could be, before the main story that will share important information about our protagonists.

Interludes will be told from the perspective of the darlings/wives/partners of the Justice League

Three Years Before the Story Start

“I have to leave pretty early this morning, they want to do a test flight before they show it this afternoon.” Your husband spoke to you as you were laid out in bed, your back propped up against the bed’s headboard, a book on your lap. Your husband was just finishing getting dressed for bed, it was pretty chilly out tonight so he was wearing a pair of thicker pajama pants and a long black sleeved shirt that looked quite nice on him given his physique. “You think you can make sure the twins get ready for school in the morning without me? The bus comes at-“

“7:25, I know, they’ll be fine, Hal.” You responded to your husband as you closed the book on your lap before setting it aside on the nightstand beside the bed. “They’re not little kids anymore.”

“I know… I just… worry about them you know?”

“I know-“

You were cut off by the sound of someone knocking on your bedroom door, which caught both of your attention. Your husband walked over to the bedroom door and turned the knob and opened the door to reveal your teenage daughter, well not really a teenager anymore since her and her brother’s eighteen birthday was in a month, almost all grown up. Even though she was almost all grown up she had her issues, her face was all red and puffy as if she was crying and she was shaking ever so slightly, another one of her panic attacks.

“I…I… Daddy… I… can’t…”

“Hey… hey, I’m here, Mommy and Daddy are here.” He spoke to her, urging her to come inside with a hand on her chest and lower back, leading her to sit down on the bed beside you. “Focus on your breathing… in… and… out… I’ve got you…”

Your daughter, she has had anxiety issues since she started high school and then self doubt and self image issues since she was a little girl, the issues just kept on stacking up since she was little. Honestly you felt a bit guilty about her current state of mind, feeling as if you should blame yourself, after all her brother was extremely gifted and you encouraged your husband to send him to a special school for extremely gifted children, separating the twins for the first time which had a heavy effect on your little girl, it unconsciously made her feel like she was not good enough, would never be as good as her brother. She has always needed a little bit of extra love since then, while your son gravitated towards you as his preferred parent, your daughter was closer to your husband, which was unfortunate since he was off planet for weeks at a time as Green Lantern, it broke your husband’s heart to be away from her when she may need him.

“Can you name five things you see, sweetheart?”

“T-the carpet… the mirror… t-the bed… you… and m-mom…”

“Good. That’s good. What about four things you can touch?”

“The bed… your hands… my pajamas… my hair…”

This happened more often than you would have liked, though you did not like it at all, it hurt you to see her like this. Her and Hal have developed a whole process for her panic attacks now, breathing exercises, sitting down together, then naming five things she can see, naming four things she can touch, naming three things she can hear, naming two things she can smell, and naming one thing she can taste until the world slowly slides back into focus, until her body starts to feel like her own again. Then afterwards he would get her weighted blanket and then sit down with her until it was all over, well over for that time at least.

“Alright, are you with me sweetheart?” 

“I…I’m with you…”

“That’s good, sweetheart.” He told her as he slowly stood up, testing the waters to see if she was okay with him leaving her side, which she was. Hal walked across the room to the back of your shared closet door where his old air force jacket hung off the doorknob and where there was a blanket basket near the closet door, grabbing one of the weighted blankets you all kept around for situations like this. He walked back over to her side, draping his jacket over her shoulders, she always liked his jacket since it was always warm, it felt so cozy and safe to her, you wish you could say the same. He wrapped the blanket around her, keeping her all secure and safe. “Do you want to talk about this with me or do you want me to call your therapist in the morning so I can schedule an appointment for you?”

“I…I want… my therapist…”

“Will do.” Normally if she wanted her therapist it was something with her friends, something that she did not want to tell you two right away. You only knew that because some of her old friends were not the nicest and caused her to experience things that her therapist needed to report to you two like suicidal thoughts or her developing an eating disorder, it hurt you so much to see her like this. “How bad was it this time?”

“A five…”

“Okay… is there anything I can do to help you right now?”

“Can… can you sit with me until I go to sleep?” 

“Of course, you can lay down by us until you fall asleep, I’ll carry you back to your room when you do.”

You watched as your daughter nodded, you patted the mattress, a silent invitation for her to curl up between you two like she did like when she was a little girl. She rested her head in your lap as a pillow, the perfect position for you to brush your fingers through her hair and for your husband to run circles on her back, tricks you two used to get her out like a light. Though even when she did fall asleep, you knew that she was going to be laying by you two for a few more minutes longer.

“…I want to get her a service dog.” Your husband spoke up after a long few minutes of silence after your daughter fell asleep in your grasp, Hal’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’ve been talking to Spooky- Bruce about it and there are a few really good training facilities for emotional support animals that his company sponsors.”

“Hal, are you sure-“

“I’ve talked to her therapist about it, it’s what they recommend.” He spoke to you, his eyes not tearing away from his daughter, your daughter. “I know you are worried about her too, but it will really be for the best, trust me.”

Trust him…

You really had no choice but to trust him…

After all the last time you had gone out into public had to be decades ago, a long time before you even conceived the twins. You did not count the visits to the watchtower, after all no one in the public knew where you were, just the ones who wore masks and suits. It was hard trying to come up with reasons as for why no one ever saw you, the twins’ mother at school events, at your daughter’s rugby game or your son’s tennis match, after all it was for the best that you stayed here where you could be kept safe and sound, at least that is what your husband told you…

“Alright, a service dog sounds good for her.” You finally responded after a moment’s delay. “I’m sure you can figure it out with the school.”

“I’ll make some calls in the morning on my way to work, get this all figured out for her��� for us.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek before sliding out of bed ever so carefully as to not to wake your daughter, and when he said he would carry your daughter to bed when she fell asleep, he meant he would use one of his lantern ring constructs to carry her to bed so he would not wake her up. Green light formed around your daughter as a cacophony like construct lifted her up from the bed as your husband led her out of the room with the concentration on his ring, giving you one last charming smile as he stepped out of the room, following after where his ring’s construct took her. “Trust me baby, I love you.”

“I know, Hal.”

[lunaroseblake]

Adrenaline - Zayne x Reader Fanfic Chapter 1

Tags: Drama&Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Blood, Near Death Experiences, Battle Scenes, Angst, Fluff, Love, Established Relationship, Jealous Zayne, Eventual Smut, Smut, Emotional Roller Coaster, Developing Relationships, Reader Insert, Not Cannon Compliant, Characters May Be OOC, Soo Much Drama And Angst.

Epinephrine, also known as adrenaline, is both a neurotransmitter and a hormone. It plays an important role in your body's fight-or-flight response. It's released in response to a stressful, exciting, dangerous, or threatening situations.

Summary:

Tap. Tap. Tap. His fingers drummed along the white cotton of the tablecloth beneath them. It wasn’t like you to be late, or for you to not answer your messages. The door dinged again making him glance up only to see another couple enter. He decided to call you, holding the phone to his ear after pressing dial only to be greeted with the rhythmic ringing before getting your voicemail. He frowned, his fingers tapping the screen to load up the messages to see it was still on unread.

Or~

You're in a newly established relationship with Zayne which is put to the test when an incident happens in where you rely on him more than anyone, causing a domino effect which disrupts everything you love.

Links:

AO3, Wattpad <- Up to date chapters can be found here, currently on chapter 34 if you want to continue reading there! ^-^

I'll post chapter 1 below, AO3 is always the first place I update and I'm new to posting on Tumblr, especially with writing so I'm not too sure what I'm doing ^-^; Anyway, I hope you enjoy! I love hearing what people have to day about my writing so don't hesitate to let me know thoughts etc :)

Chapter 1: Calm Before The Storm

It had been a somewhat quiet day at the hospital, not that he was complaining and not that he’d ever utter that out loud for fear of jinxing it but everything had gone smoothly, no emergencies or complicated walk-ins. It had given him some time to catch up on paperwork and read through newly published medical papers that he hadn’t managed to get to.

Leaning back in to his chair slightly he grabbed his phone as his index finger pushed his silver framed glassed back to the bridge of his nose. The faintest smile gracing his lips when he saw the pop up notification with a text from you on the lock screen. Slender fingers entered the passcode before clicking on your message. An image of your supposed ‘lunch’ came up - a stack of pancakes covered with syrup, fruit and cream with the text beneath:

Morning office work complete! Having lunch with Xavier and before you say anything, fruit is healthy! I hope you’re taking breaks too, I don’t want you falling asleep on me later.

Shortly followed with:

I can’t wait until our date tonight x

He quickly squashed down the jealousy he felt at seeing the blonde haired mans name and the fact that you were eating lunch with him. He knew that you were only work partners but still, the uncertainty lingered. He sighed, quickly ridding himself of such thoughts, his more rational side kicking in knowing that you were more than loyal. Looking back at the picture his smile was more prominent now as he shook his head in exasperation at your alleged ‘lunch.’ He quickly typed out a reply:

Looking forward to it, though you already seem to have had dessert. No fighting wanderers on a full stomach.

Locking his phone he placed it on his desk before standing and checking his watch. He had a scheduled operation due, nothing too complicated, having made sure that his evening would be free to spend it with you. As he made his way out of his office, his thoughts drifted to you. Ever since you started dating around a month ago it was hard for him to think of much else when you weren’t around him, the thought of your smile was enough to brighten his darkest days. He was slow to progress his relationship with you, even if he had harboured feelings for you for a lot longer than he was willing to admit he wanted to make sure that this was what you wanted. That he was what you wanted.

He knew that he was difficult when it came to expressing how he felt but over time you had managed to thaw his icy personality and only around you did his eyes light up with warmth. As he entered the operating theatre though he knew that he had to be at 100% attention, so anything other than doing his job was banished from his mind. He managed to complete the surgery faster than he’d anticipated which he was pleased about and as he had nothing else scheduled in for the day it meant that he had more time to sort himself out for his date with you this evening.

The restaurant that you were both meeting at wasn’t super expensive, but it was one that expected its customers to at least make some formal effort with their clothing choices. One of his colleagues had mentioned it after raving about how good their food was so he decided to try it. Apparently their head chef used to work at a Michelin star restaurant so his hopes were pretty high.

Zayne could be said that he wasn’t really one for fashion but he knew what did and didn’t flatter him, so when he got home he went to his closet, opting for black turtle neck and black dress pants. One because it was both smart and comfortable and two because he knew that you loved it when he wore a turtle neck.

He chuckled at the memory, you’d both gone out to a cafe near the hospital for a coffee when you both had a break, the table you were seated at had a few fashion magazines lingering nearby which had caught your attention when one of the models was wearing a knit jumper you liked. He’d offered to buy you one similar if he ever saw one in passing to which you’d waved him off before a grin latched itself on to your lips “We should go shopping, by which I mean I want to take you shopping” you said simply which made him raise his eyebrow “Since when do you know anything about mens fashion?” He queried causing you to roll your eyes before a slight blush began to stain your cheeks a cute hue of rosy pink “I know what I like on you” You’d murmured nearly incoherently and Zayne had a hard time straining to hear but he managed “Oh?” He teased “And what might that be?” He asked leaning forward with a smirk as he tried to catch you eye. You bit your lip slightly as you glanced his direction “You’re wearing one” you said as you pointed to the turtleneck he was wearing.

He’d found it adorable when you’d blushed and so for the rest of the time at the cafe he’d teased you with the newfound information to try and bring your blush back in which he was successful a number of times. From then on, anytime that you mentioned something that you liked he’d make a mental note of it and if he could would incorporate it in to his daily routine, whether it be from the scent of his cologne to your favourite drink, hence why tonight a turtle neck would do.

Once changed he checked himself over in the mirror, having completed the look with a more casual blazer before he checked his watch, seeing it was getting closer to the agreed upon meeting time. Grabbing his wallet and keys he knew he had just enough time to make a quick stop at a florist before making his way to the restaurant.

Having parked he made his way down the bustling street, where people were enjoying evening strolls in the warm weather or slowly making their way home from work. The sun had just dipped below the horizon turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and crimson and as the sun set more the more dark and crimson the sky became.

He paused as he glanced up at it, around him people took pictures of the sight thinking it as nothing more than another pretty sunset but for Zayne the colour was a close resemblance to the colour of blood and for a reason he couldn’t shake, it unsettled him. Being a Doctor he was more than accustomed to the sight of it to the point where it hardly phased him, but tonight the colour of the sunset had his heart beating a little bit faster and he didn’t like the feeling one bit.

Trying to put it aside he let his thoughts wander to you and what outfit you might be wearing as he continued to the restaurant, calming more as he went inside and gave his name to be led to their designated table. He was happy to see that they’d been situated in a corner, he much preferred that, it was more intimate than being in the centre with other couples or groups around you. Taking his blazer off he draped it over the back of his chair before sliding his phone out of his pocket and sitting down. He gave the menu a slight once over before ordering a bottle of wine when the waiter came, taking the liberty of ordering a red as he knew you preferred it.

Twenty minutes went by where every time he heard the door go his head snapped up in the hopes that it was you to only be disappointed to see someone else. His anxiety was growing and no matter how many times he checked his phone there were no new notifications and his message asking of an ETA was still unread.

Tap. Tap. Tap. His fingers drummed along the white cotton of the tablecloth beneath them. It wasn’t like you to be late, or for you to not answer your messages. The door dinged again making him glance up only to see another couple enter. He decided to call you, holding the phone to his ear after pressing dial only to be greeted with the rhythmic ring ring before getting your voicemail. He frowned, his fingers tapping the screen to load up the messages to see it was still on unread.

He waited, dismissing the wait staff when they came to try and take his order, saying that he was waiting for someone.

Little did he know that you weren’t coming to greet him.

[cursedonyx]

HL Cast in a Muggle Nursing Home

Time has passed, as it does so well, and our sweethearts have all ended up in the same nursing home in the late 1900s/early 2000s for the sake of convenience. Why a muggle nursing home? Why not?

Sebastian Sallow

Still a troublemaker through and through. Sebastian’s charm has only increased with age, and it only takes a wink and a smile before whatever tomfoolery he got into is forgiven. He has no concept of curfew (has he ever?) and will regularly wander off either alone or with Ominis to see if they can get into mischief or visit the local library (or pub). He will absolutely use his advanced age to excuse whatever nonsense he gets up to, but he’s still sharp as a tack and perfectly lucid. He really enjoys quieter moments as well, settling in his favourite chair with a good book, though the muggle TV holds a lot of fascination for him. He loves watching The Bill, and he once stole a muggle policeman’s hat, though his absolute favourite thing to watch is cartoons, particularly Tom and Jerry.

He doesn’t have family to visit him, he never had children, but he’s more than okay with that. He’s got his friends and his partner, and that’s all that matters to him.

Ominis Gaunt

Extremely proud, he refuses even the slightest help, and gets very angry if the staff don’t respect this. He would quite literally rather die than have someone help him shower or feed him, and he has on occasion used the Confundus charm on staff that won’t leave him alone. Aside from this, he is unendingly polite to the staff and generally keeps out of trouble, unless he feels things have gotten too quiet. Then, it’s a whisper in Sebastian’s ear, and the pair of them cause no end of bother, reliving their school days with abject glee. His favourite muggle invention over the last century is absolutely personal audio players, and he’s got a little mp3 player stuffed full of audiobooks and dramas. Make sure he’s got plenty of tea and a good stack of sandwiches, pop him in a patch of sunlight, and he’ll happily stay there all day, listening to his books.

Similarly to Sebastian, Ominis never had children, but he’s content with this decision. Considering what happened with Voldemort, he’s even more convinced that he did the right thing by not breeding. He and his wife are perfectly happy together as they are. Besides, the other's grandchildren/great-grandchildren get on his nerves, and he'll hide away if they visit.

Garreth Weasley

Loves a spongebath, our Garreth. He’s definitely the type to pretend he’s more helpless than he actually is just so he can flirt with the staff. He has absolutely dropped something on purpose and asked for someone to pick it up for him just so he can smirk at the view as they bend over. He’s energetic for his age and has visitors from his family at least twice or thrice a week, who always try and convince him to come and live with one of them instead. The main reason he’s here instead of at home is so he can keep Leander company. Garreth’s not able to experiment with potions so much in a muggle nursing home, so he’s swapped his passion for potions into culinary experiments. He’s a surprisingly talented chef, and when he’s allowed in the kitchen, everyone enjoys a magnificent meal. He keeps up a friendly rivalry with Sebastian and Ominis (house pride and all that), but over the decades they’ve all become extremely good friends.

Leander Prewett

Leander’s grown in confidence over the years into quite a suave person. Of course, it's not a patch on Ominis’ charm but he’s no longer interested in imitating people to try and seem impressive – he’s just happy with who he is. He’s developed a bit of an eccentric fashion sense and his wardrobe is huge. Poppy can often be found raiding his closets looking for something he doesn’t wear anymore so she can make outfits for her pets. He’s still reserved in some ways, and his favourite thing to do is potter about in the garden (usually wearing his favourite feather boa and some 1991 novelty glasses that he picked up somewhere). He does sneakily grow some magical plants among the usual muggle ones, and it always makes him chuckle when the staff think they’re hallucinating the big bush by the window moving by itself. If the weather’s not right for gardening, he’s tinkering with muggle items, and Garreth’s great-grandson, Arthur, is more than happy to show him a thing or two.

Natsai Onai

Natty is the kind of granny everyone loves to sit by as she tells the most fantastical stories. She’s filled out quite a lot over the years, and she gives the warmest hugs. Natty’s more often than not surrounded by all the grandchildren of all the residents that have them, including her own, who call her ‘Nana Nats,’ much to her delight. She’s a published author, writing about her adventures at Hogwarts and as an Auror as though they were fantasy detective stories. Though she’s quite well off because of this, she stays here with her friends and uses her money to always make sure there are sweets for the grandchildren and presents for her friends and the staff. In quieter moments, she’s either cozied up with Amit or taking tea with the girls, gossiping and pouring over muggle magazines about knitting and crochet. She adores making jumpers for everyone for Christmas.

Poppy Sweeting

Poppy is just as obsessed with animals as she has been all her life, and she’s constantly rescuing birds that fell out of their nests, squirrels with injured paws, hedgehogs that need a good clean, not to mention the veritable army of stray cats that know they’ll get fed if they come to this particular nursing home. The staff have long given up trying to stop this, and Poppy’s bedroom looks kind of like what would happen if Snow White sang for three hours straight. She frequently frightens the life out of the staff when they find her halfway up a tree in her slippers and poncho, trying to see baby birds in their nests.

When she’s not hoarding every wild animal under the sun, Poppy can most often be found trying to use the internet to learn more about animals, or watching nature documentaries by Sir David Attenborough (something she and Ominis share a fondness for). She enjoys helping Garreth in the kitchen when he’s allowed, especially if he’s baking, but that’s mainly so she can lick the bowl.

She leaves cat hair everywhere.

Amit Thakkar

Amit is a kindly old grandpa who knows more about space and the cosmos than perhaps anyone else alive, and he’s written several books on the subject that are popular in both wizarding and muggle communities, though he is best known as one of the country’s leading Magical Historians. He delights in sharing this knowledge with anyone who will listen, and he’s usually got a pocketful of Indian sweeties to share with anyone who endures his lectures for longer than ten minutes. He likes to keep active and loves going out for walks with Natty when they’re both feeling up to it before enjoying a hot chocolate and retiring for a nap.

Imelda Reyes

Imelda achieved her dream of becoming an International Quidditch Star, and even now, seventy years later, she will not shut up about it. Her trophies are proudly displayed in her room along with banners and posters that she’s had to charm to stop the muggle staff noticing anything weird, and if asked, she poutingly tells them she used to be a Rugby star, which is also true. Imelda played Rugby in between playing quidditch, and she was very, very good at it. She adores the sport and watches it religiously on the muggle TV, deriding football as a ‘game for ninnies.’ Any Rugby matches happening nearby, no matter who’s playing, she’s going to nab herself some tickets and go. Poppy frequently tags along to these, and these two little old ladies cause no end of mayhem once there. They’ve even been on the news a few times by accident.

Masterlist

[banditcode]

#1

It's been a long time since I last wrote on this blog. Back then I had a job, I lived alone, and I had indie video game projects. It turns out I moved in with my partner and this is my new setup, which I bought when I was laid off from the company I worked for for 5 and a half years. Now I'm creating a web development portfolio on my GitHub because I can't publish my work from my previous company under my own name. Right now, I'm counting daily calories because I'm trying to lose 20 kilos this year ( I must eat less than 1800 calories per day in order to achieve it), and I've also enrolled in a 50-plus-week full-stack development bootcamp.

I can't sleep well because not having a job is really affecting me (I've been laid off since January 28th. I really didn't want to continue there, but I also didn't want to not have a job). And I'm trying to maintain a Ballet Fit routine to avoid sitting still. So this is my third blog start, focusing on personal and web development (lol), and food tracking. You could say it's a general habit tracker.

For anyone reading this for the first time, hello, I'm "bandit", 32 years old, interested in learning languages (I speak english, spanish, portuguese and a really basic russian), and just switched from the arts to development, among other things. I enjoy metal music, anime, and TV shows. I'm rebuilding my collection of manga, magazines, and books that I lost after moving so much in my youth. I hope to find more people on studyblr. 💕

[elliebyrrdwrites]

Happy Dramione Month

More dead Dramione ahead.

Hermione huffed out a long and suffering sigh as she lowered her wand. Her eyes dragged away from the stone archway to watch Draco Malfoy circle the structure, appraising the stone stacked on top of the other, the thin white sheet shifting as if caught in a gentle breeze. The overall eeriness about it.

His arms were crossed and his head was tilted to the side as his pale blue eyes dragged over The Veil. One of his dark blonde brows arched as he lifted a hand and rubbed at his chin.

He continued moving. And his shoes continued to click, distractingly, against the tiled floor.

“You need new shoes.” The words spat from her mouth as she shoved her wild waves away from her face.

Draco’s head turned sharply, his eyes already narrowed in on her. “These are new shoes.” The corner of his lip lifted in the beginnings of a scowl, while hers started to lift in a smirk of triumph.

“Oh, I see.” She mused, gently. “So, then, you meant to buy tap dancing shoes?”

Draco drew up, dropping his hands to his side. “Tap dance-“ the full extent of his scowl graced his face, dishing out the satisfaction Hermione had been craving. But when his lips pulled up and his front teeth appeared in a grin, Hermione found herself disturbed by the ferality in his eyes as they swept over her body, taking in the slim fitting pants that hugged her hips.

“Do you enjoy dancing, Granger?” He tilted his head and continued to appraise her, much like he did The Veil. “I can’t imagine Weasley being a very good dance partner,” he paused to hold his arms out like a rag doll, awkwardly shaking them about. “A bit of a klutz, that one.”

Truth be told, she did like to dance and she did miss going out and letting loose. Because, well, Ron was terrible and he hated it. So, they stopped going years ago.

Apparently, Draco had managed to gather some of that, because he pushed his lips out in a dramatic pout, drawing her attention to his mouth. “Oh, you poor dear.”

Hermione huffed another sigh and shook her hair out of her face. Lifting her wand, she aimed it back at The Veil in her attempt to run a diagnostic on it.

Working in the Department of Mysteries was a job Hermione found incredibly exciting. Prophecy’s, life and death were just some of the bigger fields of study. But, Hermione and Draco didn’t work in those fields. They worked in the field of time and space and the universe at large. Recently,

Muggle scientists decided we are living in. Realm that overlaps with others, which might explain the possibility of alien life forms.

Draco had briefly questioned how one might enter another realm. Hermione had suggested that perhaps a door already existed.

Both of them had immediately thought of The Veil.

Which led them into developing an incredibly complicated spell meant to detect a disruption in the quantum physics within the space of the current dimension, if one were to occur by analyzing the type of particles emerging, their energy distributions and masses - to decipher the geometry of the extra dimensions. For muggles, this could take centuries to figure out a way to even begin coming up with a way to analyze such data.

For wizards, well, Draco and Hermione tended to think that with their brains and each of their own magical abilities, they could do it in an incredibly accelerated pace.

“I could take you dancing, Granger.” Draco abandoned the stone archway and instead, began to circle her as she aimed her wand directly at it, from a safe distance of at least one and a half meters away from the dais it was built upon.

Her eyes remained fixed on the archway as she pointedly ignored him.

“What do you like?” Draco placed a hand over his stomach and lifted the other in the air, as if he held the hand of a dance party. “Salsa?” His hips moved in an utterly and horribly distracting way, causing Hermione’s eyebrows to lift up in shock.

Despite keeping her focus on the archway, she saw the seductive sway and shimmy of his body.

“Swing?”

Hermione’s gaze flicked over to see his feet move in a rock step before doing a triple step to his left, back, and then followed by another rock step.

“How did you learn to swing dance?” Hermione lowered her wand and cocked her hip. “That was a very muggle trend.”

Draco spun on his left foot, winking as he landed gracefully on his right foot. “Was it?”

“Stop being so distracting. This is very important work.” She lifted her chin and defiantly look back at the arch, once again lifting her wand.

“Granger,” She could hear — no — she could taste his grin as he slid to her side. “Are you blushing?” He leaned in closely, and Hermione flinched when his hand settled onto her shoulder before sliding down the length of her arm. He stepped behind her and body pressed into her back.

“Go on, then.” His voice appeared beside her ear, causing the skin around her scalp and her arm to tighten. “I’ll help you.”

Hermione scoffed, though the air passing through her lips felt shaky.

Draco’s fingers slid over hers, sending a shock of hot electric energy into her hand, traveling throughout her entire body. It spread from her arm into her chest and settled deeply into her lower abdomen.

He settled his chin onto her shoulder, and she turned her head, to try to look at home. He was too close. Their cheeks touched. Too much of their bodies touched and he smelled intoxicatingly good. It was difficult to discern the scent but it reminded her of something minty and fresh.

“This is highly inappropriate, Malfoy.”

“Relax, Granger. I’m just doing my job. It’s incredibly important and complicated spell work. I wouldn’t want you fucking it all up.”

She scowled in response but she could feel the lift of his cheek against hers.

Together, they moved her wand in the complicated and very precise movements as she whispered the incantation.

“It’s kind of like dancing, isn’t it?” He murmured into her ear and she has to physically fight the shudder that threatened to rock through her body.

When she finished the rest of the incants, they both went quiet, as they stared and waited.

Nothing happened.

“Maybe I’m too far away.” She pulled away from him, turning to face him instead.

Draco’s tongue was jabbed into his cheek and his cheeks were tinged the slightest shade of pink as he glanced from her wand hand to The Veil.

His eyebrows bunched together when he finally nodded. “I’d better do it, this time.” He moved toward the archway, pulling his wand from inside his pocket.

“Why? Because it’s dangerous and I’m a girl?”

Draco snorted and glanced over his shoulder. “No, clearly you fucked it up.”

“What!” Hermione stomped after him. “You did the wand work with me! You heard me say the incantation, yourself!” How could he not with his freshly shaven face pressed against hers and his stupidly fresh smelling cologne stuffing itself up her nostrils.

“Honestly, I don’t know what you said.” He drawled as took the first two steps onto the archway. “You were a bit mumbly and I was a little distracted. I’m very tired. I had a very long night.”

Hermione’s scowled at his back and stepped up beside him, trying very hard not to think about who might have kept him up so late. Not like she cared.

From here, she found hear the alluring whispers of calm and soothing voices coming from The Veil.

“What is that, by the way?” Draco turned to look down at her, one of his brows liftin. “Strawberry?” His right hand lifted and pick a lock of hair.

“What?”

Draco lifted her hair to his nose and sniffed. “Strawberries and cream, am I right?”

Hermione snatched her hair from his hand and turned to face the thin, fluttering sheet. “Just cast the damn spell and get this over with, Malfoy. I have plans with Ron for lunch.”

She didn’t, but she couldn’t think of what else to say in order to speed this while process up.

Draco’s eyelids lowered, as if weighted down by her words. With a sniff, he lowered his head. “Right, wouldn’t want to keep Mr. Twinkle Toes waiting. Perhaps you two won’t have to have a first dance at your wedding. Maybe you can just skip from one side of the room to the other?” He turned to face the curtain but Hermione’s glare was following his every move as he lifted his wand. “Although, I can’t imagine him being sure footed enough to even pull that off.”

“Oh, sod off!” Hermione shoved his arm and lifted her wand. “I’ll do it.”

Draco shoved her back, causing her to nearly fall off the steps and to the floor below. “No, you already fucked up once—“

She gripped the fabric of his shirt sleeve and pulled her self away from the edge. “I did not fuck it up!” Draco’s eyes flared in delight at her use of profanity. She shoved her hip against him, pushing herself in front of him and aimed wand, once again, and began to mutter the incantation.

Draco’s arm wrapped around and pulled her arm down, pinning it to her side.

“Your wrist movement is all wrong.” He aimed his other hand at The Veil and started to whisper the incantation, only to have Hermione dig her left elbow into his stomach, cutting him off as he grunted.

“Stop being such a prat.” She hissed and tried to wiggle herself free from his grasp. His left arm lifted to band around her chest, in an attempt to stop her snd capture a moment to suck in a breath.

She didn’t mean to twist completely in his arms, pressing her chest against his as they fought for control. She didn’t mean to find her right arm pinned behind her back, while her left was caught between their bodies. Draco, in the heat of their little altercation, turned so that his back was facing The Veil, panting as he glared down at her.

“Why are you always so combative?” He huffed down at her, the slight wave of his hair visible as it came loose from behind his ear after the neat combing he had performed upon it this morning.

“Me?” She scoffed and shifted uncomfortably, suddenly all to aware of the hard chest pressed against her body. The long string arms keeping her in place. The dark look in his eyes as they darted down to her mouth.

“You maddening witch.”

“You’re insufferable and annoying.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, a mild look of amusement flashing in his eyes. But the intensity of whatever remained between them was palpable.

Their arguing seemed in endless supply, and somehow, it wasn’t stressful to know that, everyday when clocking into work, she would inevitably find herself in a useless and, sometimes, childish argument with Malfoy. It wasn’t unnerving to see the way he enjoyed pushing her buttons. She was used to it and rarely was it malicious. In fact, she can’t remember the last terrible thing he had directed at her since their school years.

Hermione bit down on her lip, fighting the grin that seemed inevitable to come.

“You’re ridiculous.” He murmured, his eyelids lowering, though his eyes remained pinned to her mouth.

Heat erupted like fiendfyre deep in her abdomen and curled further south as Draco’s hand tightened his hold on the wrist he kept pinned at her back.

“I am not.” She lifted her chin and fought the urge to close her eyes, and lean her cheek into his chest. Something about his hold on her made her feel calm. Subdued.

“You are and I enjoy it.” She could have sworn that her neck was continuing to strain back as his curved forward. She could have sworn, that somehow, Draco’s face was inappropriately close to hers and her mouth was watering with a sudden thirst that has not been there moments before.

Hermione isn’t sure if she moved or if he pulled her, but her feet tripped over his and her hands pressed into his chest, as they were suddenly free. Both of Draco’s arms wrapped securely around her waist, holding her sinfully close to him.

Her lips seemed to be on a crash course path for his and might have landed. If Draco had not lost his footing in those ridiculously expensive shoes, and tumbled backwards through The Veil, and into death.

[mattnben-bennmatt]

Matt Damon on future collaborations with Ben Affleck

From the Matt Damon Career Retrospective in SAG-AFTRA Foundation Conversations, moderated by Jenelle Riley (6 December 2012)

-

MATT: The great thing is we have this little company together [Pearl Street Films]. And so now my partner in the company is the hottest director in Hollywood. [...] I would love to be directed by him. I think that would be a lot of fun. And he's clearly a fantastic director. And I'd love to direct him! You know? He was in actor jail for a while. I remember talking to him 10 years ago, when he was on the cover of those magazines every week. And no one knew more than him what a disaster it was. He said, "I'm in the worst place you can be. I sell magazines and not movie tickets." And it was just a big hole and it just took him a decade, but he dug his way out. And I know what he wants is to work. He loves acting and he's at his best when he trusts the director. He wants some directors that he can trust to work with. So I'd love to direct him in something.

-

[Full transcript under the cut]

-

RILEY: We have a lot of questions. Probably half this stack is wanting to know if you're going to be collaborating with Ben again?

MATT: Yeah. Well I mean, I don't know on what, but yeah. The great thing is we have this little company together [Pearl Street Films]. And so now my partner in the company is the hottest director in Hollywood. So that's really good for our little company, 'cause people are sending us a lot of material. And so we're looking at stuff. We've got a couple things we've been developing that we've been talking about. But you know, we really want it to, whatever it is to— It's that 'Good Will Hunting' rule: we wanna make sure that we love it. So we have our eyes open, yeah.

RILEY: Something that you guys could both act in?

MATT: Either way! I mean, I would love to be directed by him. I think that would be a lot of fun. And he's clearly a fantastic director. And I'd love to direct him! You know? He was in actor jail for a while. I remember talking to him 10 years ago, when he was on the cover of those magazines every week. And no one knew more than him what a disaster it was. He said, "I'm in the worst place you can be. I sell magazines and not movie tickets." And it was just a big hole and it just took him a decade, but he dug his way out. And I know what he wants is to work. He loves acting and he's at his best when he trusts the director. He wants some directors that he can trust to work with. So I'd love to direct him in something. And now I'm sure his performance in The Town and then his performance in Argo are so good that now the big directors I think are starting to call and want to hire him, just as an actor.

[thsndsptlghts]

there's nothing like a trail of blood to find your way back home - life is beautiful; sixx:a.m

EVANGELINE BOUDREAUX, VAMPIRE.

( jessica lucas . female . she/her ) — blasting wanted dead or alive by bon jovi down main street we’ve spotted EVANGELINE BOUDREAUX sporting their worn leather jacket. the age in letters year old VAMPIRE who’s been in town for six weeks often can be seen sat at the corner of the bar, or working as a BARTENDER/PART TIME BOUNCER at ENVY. people say they display loyal and aggressive traits, but we rather trust their vibes: wisps of smoke in the nights light, leaning on her motorbike watching the stars, top shelf whiskey and a good book. also, we’ve heard they love their coffee too sweet ! aren’t they fascinating ?

★ FULL NAME: Evangeline Boudreaux ★ NICKNAME/ALIAS: Eve, Evelyn (during WW2), Eva (prefers Eve) ★ GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cis-Female / She/Her ★ SPECIES: Vampire ★ AGE: 102 / Appears around 28 ★ SEXUALITY: Pansexual. ★ OCCUPATION: Bartender / Part Time Bouncer @ Envy ☾ HAIR COLOUR: Dark brown, sometimes with ombre blonde ends. Has been known with black hair in the past ☾ EYE COLOUR: Dark brown with some golden flecks ☾ HAIR STYLE: Usually worn either down, naturally wavy or straight or up in a high ponytail ☾ DISTINGUISHING MARKS/TATTOOS/PIERCINGS: A few simple dots on her fingers, to test if being a vampire would disturb the ink, though Eve would like more tattoos in the future. Many ear piercings, most often worn as rings/twists. ☾ DEFINING FEATURES: ☾ TRADEMARK CLOTHING: Her worn leather bike jacket and stacked rings on her fingers. Combat boots - occasionally swapping for chunky heeled boots. ☾ UNIQUE SUPERNATURAL STRENGTHS: Eve favors her hypnosis-type powers to get her way and has developed a sort of siren song-esque way of using it. ☾ DAYLIGHT TOKEN: A silver ring with a mystic topaz stone set within a moon, surrounded by diamonds taken from her mothers' wedding ring, enchanted by a witch from New Orleans for her.

♥ PARENTS: Deceased during the War ♥ SIBLINGS: None ♥ EX-PARTNERS: TBC ♥ NOTABLE CONNECTIONS: - Louisa Allerton; jokingly referred to as ‘louisas emotional support vamp’, often helps calm her or catch any rouge flying objects. - Beaufort McGovern; someone Eve enjoys winding up and making digs at (more to be added) OTHERS TBC ♥ WANTED CONNECTIONS: - a past love from the war, someone who thought she was dead/vice cersa - the one who turned her/someone who helped her with the transition - friends from the war/previous cities - drinking buddies - friends with benefits/enemies with benefits OTHERS TBC ♥ PINS: https://pin.it/zMUwyg0VT BACKGROUND ♦ Evangeline was born in 1916 in New Orleans to immigrants from the Caribbean. She grew up working alongside her father in their mechanics shop, her mother a nurse at a local hospital and learned all she could from them both. ♦ When World War 2 broke out Eve (known at the time as Evelyn) was happy to join the forces, using her mechanics knowledge for work on vehicles and nursing those she could. Her dual skills were to be valued and soon she was placed for deployment. ♦ Killed in action (sort of - an attack on a base she had been shipped out to) and only a letter sent home to her mother reporting her death. Or at least that was what everyone would think. She had managed to crawl toward a nearby village, hopeful for help or at least something more peaceful than being in the mud, help was certainly what she got but not in the way she expected. Maybe some of those old folk stories weren’t quite so fairytale horrors after all. ♦ Sneaking back onto a ship at the end of the war was easy for the woman, finding her way back to the States and hopeful she could reunite with her mother, as so many other things in her life; this didn’t go to plan. Perhaps she had moved, or perhaps she had been caught up in bombings, all Evangeline knew was she had no family in New Orleans anymore and even if she did, was it safe for her to be there at all? ♦ After bouncing around for a few years, sticking to vague names and short stays in small towns here and there Eve found herself following an old friend to Portum and recently settled into the idea that she didn’t have to live such a solitary life anymore - something she had struggled with for decades. ♦ She has been in Portum for a few weeks now, finding a job at Envy as a bartender and occasionally her rough around the edges demeanor earning her reputation as one to not be trifled with, often taking on the job as bouncer when needed.

[jcmarchi]

Moments Lab Secures $24 Million to Redefine Video Discovery With Agentic AI

New Post has been published on https://thedigitalinsider.com/moments-lab-secures-24-million-to-redefine-video-discovery-with-agentic-ai/

Moments Lab Secures $24 Million to Redefine Video Discovery With Agentic AI

Moments Lab, the AI company redefining how organizations work with video, has raised $24 million in new funding, led by Oxx with participation from Orange Ventures, Kadmos, Supernova Invest, and Elaia Partners. The investment will supercharge the company’s U.S. expansion and support continued development of its agentic AI platform — a system designed to turn massive video archives into instantly searchable and monetizable assets.

The heart of Moments Lab is MXT-2, a multimodal video-understanding AI that watches, hears, and interprets video with context-aware precision. It doesn’t just label content — it narrates it, identifying people, places, logos, and even cinematographic elements like shot types and pacing. This natural-language metadata turns hours of footage into structured, searchable intelligence, usable across creative, editorial, marketing, and monetization workflows.

But the true leap forward is the introduction of agentic AI — an autonomous system that can plan, reason, and adapt to a user’s intent. Instead of simply executing instructions, it understands prompts like “generate a highlight reel for social” and takes action: pulling scenes, suggesting titles, selecting formats, and aligning outputs with a brand’s voice or platform requirements.

“With MXT, we already index video faster than any human ever could,” said Philippe Petitpont, CEO and co-founder of Moments Lab. “But with agentic AI, we’re building the next layer — AI that acts as a teammate, doing everything from crafting rough cuts to uncovering storylines hidden deep in the archive.”

From Search to Storytelling: A Platform Built for Speed and Scale

Moments Lab is more than an indexing engine. It’s a full-stack platform that empowers media professionals to move at the speed of story. That starts with search — arguably the most painful part of working with video today.

Most production teams still rely on filenames, folders, and tribal knowledge to locate content. Moments Lab changes that with plain text search that behaves like Google for your video library. Users can simply type what they’re looking for — “CEO talking about sustainability” or “crowd cheering at sunset” — and retrieve exact clips within seconds.

Key features include:

AI video intelligence: MXT-2 doesn’t just tag content — it describes it using time-coded natural language, capturing what’s seen, heard, and implied.

Search anyone can use: Designed for accessibility, the platform allows non-technical users to search across thousands of hours of footage using everyday language.

Instant clipping and export: Once a moment is found, it can be clipped, trimmed, and exported or shared in seconds — no need for timecode handoffs or third-party tools.

Metadata-rich discovery: Filter by people, events, dates, locations, rights status, or any custom facet your workflow requires.

Quote and soundbite detection: Automatically transcribes audio and highlights the most impactful segments — perfect for interview footage and press conferences.

Content classification: Train the system to sort footage by theme, tone, or use case — from trailers to corporate reels to social clips.

Translation and multilingual support: Transcribes and translates speech, even in multilingual settings, making content globally usable.

This end-to-end functionality has made Moments Lab an indispensable partner for TV networks, sports rights holders, ad agencies, and global brands. Recent clients include Thomson Reuters, Amazon Ads, Sinclair, Hearst, and Banijay — all grappling with increasingly complex content libraries and growing demands for speed, personalization, and monetization.

Built for Integration, Trained for Precision

MXT-2 is trained on 1.5 billion+ data points, reducing hallucinations and delivering high confidence outputs that teams can rely on. Unlike proprietary AI stacks that lock metadata in unreadable formats, Moments Lab keeps everything in open text, ensuring full compatibility with downstream tools like Adobe Premiere, Final Cut Pro, Brightcove, YouTube, and enterprise MAM/CMS platforms via API or no-code integrations.

“The real power of our system is not just speed, but adaptability,” said Fred Petitpont, co-founder and CTO. “Whether you’re a broadcaster clipping sports highlights or a brand licensing footage to partners, our AI works the way your team already does — just 100x faster.”

The platform is already being used to power everything from archive migration to live event clipping, editorial research, and content licensing. Users can share secure links with collaborators, sell footage to external buyers, and even train the system to align with niche editorial styles or compliance guidelines.

From Startup to Standard-Setter

Founded in 2016 by twin brothers Frederic Petitpont and Phil Petitpont, Moments Lab began with a simple question: What if you could Google your video library? Today, it’s answering that — and more — with a platform that redefines how creative and editorial teams work with media. It has become the most awarded indexing AI in the video industry since 2023 and shows no signs of slowing down.

“When we first saw MXT in action, it felt like magic,” said Gökçe Ceylan, Principal at Oxx. “This is exactly the kind of product and team we look for — technically brilliant, customer-obsessed, and solving a real, growing need.”

With this new round of funding, Moments Lab is poised to lead a category that didn’t exist five years ago — agentic AI for video — and define the future of content discovery.

[thesocialstackio]

Why Every Local Business Needs a Digital Marketing Partner in 2025

In 2025, the digital world isn’t just growing — it's dominating. If you’re running a local business, your future customers are no longer walking by your storefront… they’re scrolling on their phones.

That’s why partnering with the best digital marketing agency in Ahmedabad could be the smartest business move you make this year.

🌐 The Digital Shift is Real — And It’s Here to Stay

Over 82% of customers look online before making a purchase. Whether it’s searching for a nearby café or checking reviews for a salon, people trust Google and social media more than billboards or newspaper ads.

💡 Stat you can’t ignore: Local businesses with consistent digital marketing see up to 3X more engagement and 2X more revenue.

And yet, many businesses in Ahmedabad are still trying to “do it all” without expert help — and burning time and money in the process.

🧱 Common Struggles Local Businesses Face

Even the best products or services won’t sell if people don’t know about them. Local business owners are hustling every day, but often lack:

Time to create content

Knowledge of SEO or paid ads

Resources to build or update a website

A consistent brand story

That’s where a leading digital marketing agency in Ahmedabad like The Social Stack comes in — with solutions, systems, and a skilled team.

🛠️ What a Digital Marketing Partner Really Does (That You Shouldn’t Be Doing Alone)

When you partner with experts, here’s what you can finally stop worrying about:

✅ Social Media Marketing

Creating content, managing platforms like Instagram, Facebook, and LinkedIn, and growing your following.

✅ SEO & Local Search Ranking

Helping your business show up when people search “best salon near me” or “Ahmedabad’s top fitness center.”

✅ Website Design & Development

From mobile-friendly design to high-converting landing pages — your website is your 24/7 salesman.

✅ Google Ads & Meta Ads

Targeted paid marketing that reaches your exact customer based on location, interests, and behavior.

✅ Content Marketing

Blogs, reels, graphics, and more — content that speaks your brand language.

All these services under one roof, saving you time, money, and energy. That’s what working with the top digital marketing in Ahmedabad looks like.

🚀 A Glimpse at Real Growth: The Social Stack Difference

Imagine this: You run a boutique in Ahmedabad. Sales are okay, but you know it can grow.

You join hands with The Social Stack.

✅ We build your Instagram with stunning visuals & reels ✅ We list you on Google Business with optimized SEO ✅ We launch a basic e-commerce site ✅ We run location-based ads targeting young shoppers

Within 3 months — your in-store footfall increases, your online orders start pinging, and you go from “just another store” to a local brand name.

That’s what a digital partner brings — not just marketing, but momentum.

🧠 Explore our services at The Social Stack

📍 Why We're the Best Digital Marketing Agency in Ahmedabad

We’re not a faceless agency. We’re a small, passionate team that lives and breathes brand building. At The Social Stack:

We work with you, not just for you

We customize plans based on your goals and budget

We keep communication transparent

We deliver results you can measure

Whether you're a gym, clinic, café, or local startup — we have the tools and strategies to amplify your digital presence.

🔗 Visit our official website 📩 Ready to talk? Drop us a message today.

🧭 Quick Guide: Choosing the Right Digital Partner

When picking your agency, look for:

Proven experience with local businesses

Positive reviews and real success stories

Full-stack services under one roof

Clear reporting, not just fancy jargon

A team that understands your vision

Let the top digital marketing in Ahmedabad help you focus on running your business while we grow it.

📣 Final Word: In 2025, Digital Is the New Word of Mouth

Gone are the days when word of mouth alone could keep your business alive. In 2025, your digital presence is your business card, billboard, and sales funnel — all rolled into one.

You don’t need to figure it all out alone. Let The Social Stack be your behind-the-scenes growth engine.

👉 Partner with the leading digital marketing agency in Ahmedabad today. 📞 Let’s talk strategy, growth, and how we can turn your brand into a household name.

🔗 Click here to get started

[the-sun-lords-will]

Transcript: S1, E1

As requested by my partner!

18th Mensis Valentis, 1652

The vampyres are the most horrible things in the world.

I do not know their full number, but currently at Court there are five. Of course there’s the King: Amarant the Fifth. He is horrible in the beautiful way. His hair is long, thick and flowing, his features sculpted, his skin unblemished save for a single dark mole beneath the eye. He’s pale as a sheet, even without the hideous white paint his courtiers wear. He is like a porcelain doll—unblinking, sitting still as the dead thing he is, watching over his subjects with that soulless cat’s-eye gaze. When he looks at you, even for only a second, you feel like a fish on a hook. For it is like being known by a machine—seen by something that should not be able to see.

The Queen was a princess of Alabast, and I do not think she was beautiful even when she was alive. But she is hideous now. Death has carved canyons into her cheeks. She has no color in her at all. She has the blank dead stare of a new corpse. Black veins mottle her face and chest. I have never seen such a miserable creature. For her, I find little hatred. She only makes me sad.

Of the King’s two children, a boy and a girl, I know little. They are very young. All I may say for certain is that they are already vampyres.

The last of the vampyres is the King’s brother, Cyril Saint-Cloud, the Duke of Voselle and probably some other places. At Court he is called the Blood Duke or simply Monsieur. This one I find most repugnant of all. He has the King’s immense height but none of his grace; he is a squarish, over-muscled beast with a hard, unshaven face. He has a slit nose like a snake’s, with those same black veins running like rivers of sludge under his skin. His teeth are black daggers that flash when he speaks. He cuts his dark hair short, like a criminal’s, short enough to reveal the stubby black horns poking out of his head. He walks with a beastly lope, his ankles long like a dog’s, and he stands on twisted gray feet with claws the size of knives.

His looks alone do not mark him as the worst among abominations. No, there is something about his very being. His eyes seem to betray a predator’s intelligence, cunning used only for the pursuit of death.

But I’ve gotten ahead of myself. It occurs to me just how many days have passed since I last put my pen to these pages. In my many weeks of travel I have found little time for writing. I shall provide a full account of the circumstances leading to my arrival here, for that time when history will find these words important.

Some weeks ago an alchemist arrived at the Abbey of Saint Valentina of the Sun Orthodoxy in search of holy items for a journey north. He rode in at night and stayed with us several days. In that time he revealed little of who he was or where he was going, but he had about him an air of caution that caused me to assume his purpose was dangerous. Eventually I had it from him that he was bound for Sevonne.

I asked him, “Is that the amount of holy water a man needs to take to Sevonne?” For he had bought gallons of the stuff and was loading it into his cart by torchlight, alongside a silver-tipped pike and a two-high stack of crates.

He said: “I’m going to the royal court at Glace-de-mer. The court of the House of Saint-Cloud.”

In that moment I understood his purpose. I felt myself on the precipice of the cliff of my life, ready to leap into unsure waters.

I knew of the Saint-Clouds, of course, for centuries the dark rulers of the Kingdom of Sevonne. Since I was a child, when the visions began, when I developed my vocation, I had devoted myself to the study of vampyres. One will find, reading these pages, evidence of my devotion and, conversely, my doubts. I had begun to wonder if my visions were only that, my destiny only a hallucination. But the arrival of the Alchemist was a sign from the Lord himself. That night I prayed, I cried tears of joy that the time had come to fulfill my divine purpose. And I went to the Mother Superior for her blessing.

I asked her humbly that I might be permitted to accompany the Alchemist on his journey. I reminded her of the regularity of my visions, the many years I had spent preparing for the task the Lord had set me: combing the words of the old monks, training myself to fight with the stake and flail. I knew, I said, that my visions had made me a source of scandal to the convent, that they had done a great favor in keeping me on. Now I should like to return that favor by going out into the world as a holy champion of the Abbey of Saint Valentina.

She said: “Dear Viori, you have done enough disgrace to your reputation here that I shudder to think what you would do in the outside world.” And she denied me.

I went anyway. The Alchemist, of course, did not care that I didn’t have permission to leave. He snuck me out at night, under the tarp of his cart. I’m sure the Mother Superior is furious, but when I emerge as a hero of the true religion I expect her forgiveness.

We decided that I would disguise myself as his apprentice. A nun of the Sun Orthodoxy would meet with derision and scorn in the land of the Night. Even under the tenuous peace our nations now enjoyed, in the nest of the vampyres themselves I’d be good as dead. At first the Alchemist offered to buy me a few nice dresses and smuggle me in in the guise of his wife, but I refused.

“Why not?” he asked. “You’ve never had the chance to live as a normal woman. Surely you must have been chafing at the bit for a different kind of life, to have left your abbey so readily in the dead of night. Why do you want to hide yourself as a man? You could be my niece, you know, if you wanted to remain unattached. You might have more fun that way.”

I refused him. I said, “Sir, I am holy before I am a woman. I do not wish to live a decadent life. I’ve never been a normal woman before, besides. I don’t know how and I don’t want to learn. And I’ll have more access to the royal family as a man, I suspect.”

Thus the Alchemist outfitted me in some of his old clothes, and as we traveled he explained enough of his trade to me that I might pass as a useful idiot in his service.

We spent a month, I think, on the road, or maybe two. I began to lose track of time. We traveled at night, to make better time on the roads and to accustom ourselves to the nocturnal schedule we would have to keep at Glace-de-mer. This whole time I have learned very little of the Alchemist’s life or his motivations. I cannot even remember his name, which shames me. I had it on the first day, and now I am too embarrassed over it to ask again.

I know, at least, the specifics of our plan to dispose of the vampyres:

There is a castrato singer who performs in the King’s operas, one Luca Luotti, hailing from our land of Liila, whose voice drives birds to weep. The Alchemist, explaining this, asked me how much I knew of castrati. “Very little,” I told him. I had heard one of the eunuchs singing at the great cathedral in Calavan, but only once.

“The castrati are afflicted,” the Alchemist explained. “There is a certain fluid in the body that controls the development of a boy into a man. To make a castrato, they cut the cord that connects the testicles to the rest of the body, causing them to shrivel up and die inside his sack—do you know what I’m talking about? Have you ever seen a man naked?”

He looked at me. I said I had. He continued. “Well. When a man comes into adulthood, it is believed his body relies on this masculinizing fluid for many of its vital functions. It strengthens his bones, clarifies his thoughts. The same is true for women, you know. There is a different chemical. A fluid of the womb. It does the same things. Anyways, a castrato can’t produce the fluids his body needs to stay totally functional. Men produce one chemical, women produce another, but the castrato produces nothing, and over time it begins to wear on him. His head fogs. His limbs weaken. He becomes irritable, confused, and, gradually, insane. This is the affliction which our Luotti now suffers.

“It is possible to produce a synthetic version of this masculine chemical I have described. Dosing a castrato with this elixir would cure him of his ills, but at the same time it would ruin his voice. Luotti wants to sing until death, per the letters we have exchanged, yet the affliction grows intolerable. So I have resolved to brew a synthetic version of the female chemical. The voice will remain intact, the mind will clear, and as a pleasant side effect the body will grow a little prettier.”

I nodded through the Alchemist’s explanation. Still I had one question. “What do you brew this chemical from?” I asked.

“Horse piss,” he said. I burst out laughing until I realized he was serious.

As for the Alchemist’s true goal at Glace-de-mer, he told me this:

“For centuries the evils of Sevonne have been the evils of men. Conquest and slaughter, all the foul whimsies and gluttonous games of the rich. The vampyres have held to the contract they made with the Sevish people centuries ago—to protect the land from the forces of the Sun kingdoms, to make the nation proud and rich, in exchange for the regular donation of enough blood to drown a whale. But what if the devils decide to stop playing by the rules? What if they want more? What might a ruling family of vampyres do if they decide all of a sudden to rule as vampyres instead of men?...I fear the consequences to our land will be impossible to bear.”

“How many must we kill, then?” I asked.

The Alchemist laughed. He said: “You talk as if the gravity of this situation has escaped you. You have joined me, without question or concern, in a clandestine plot of assassination. I have been preparing for this moment for years. I have had a long time to think about how I will do it. I have had a long time to accept that these will likely be the last months of my life, for truly neither of us are likely to survive it. Yet you are like a boy going to kill a fox.”

I told him this: “Sir, the Lord has shown me that I will survive. This is my divine purpose. I cannot say as to your survival, but I wish you the best of luck… so I ask you again, how many of them must we kill?”

He smiled then, and finally answered my question. “If we can, I would like to kill all of them.”

He never explained why, exactly, he had set himself to this goal, always dodging the question with that fluidity of tongue a learned man has. I am sure he has his secrets; I am sure he has told some little lies, but this is of no consequence to me. The Sun Lord has laid my path. The Alchemist cannot prevent me from reaching its end, be he an honest man or not-- it is simply the Sun Lord’s will.

At the very least he has a determined spirit and a sound plan. He explained that we would arrive at court under the blessing of the King’s Master of Entertainments, Luca Luotti’s patron at court, who had hired the Alchemist to produce the feminizing potion. The Alchemist would send me into palace as his spy, to learn its layout, learn the intricacies of its rancid court, ingratiate myself to them. Like this I could study the vampyres as individuals and report back to him. The Alchemist all the while would spend his time brewing a certain elixir he claimed would be indispensable in killing the beasts. The Elixir of the Stone Key, he called it. He described it as a kind of poison, I think, but in his usual fashion he has given me no more information than that.

At one point a small band of brigands accosted our cart; the Alchemist dealt quickly with the bulk of them, the speed and accuracy of his shot astonishing me. I impressed him for my part by brutalizing the remaining two men with my flail. I had never enacted this level of violence on a man before, but I had of course seen it in my dreams, my righteous arm shattering the skulls of devils. I swept out from under the covered part of the cart with my weapon raised, and before the man in front of me could react to my presence I slammed the flail’s heavy head into the space between his eyes. The bone caved in like wet paper. A spring of blood bubbled forth from inside, bright and pretty as fresh water in the light of the torches bound to our cart. I cried out like an animal, overcome with the enormity of this first kill, my heart squeezing angrily. I felt the warmth of the Lord on me.

For good measure, I staked the dead men in the chest and left heavy rocks in their mouths. Although I felt it unlikely the group were vampyres, I thought the practice useful, and anyways, one never knows in Sevonne.

Other than this small incident, we reached the village of Glace-de-mer without trouble. The Master of Entertainments, the Duke de Rouxel, has given us a free space to sleep and work in the cellar of his private residence in the village. I suspect this less of a generosity than it seems on the surface. He likely cannot afford to house us anywhere else, nor to supplement the wage he has promised the Alchemist enough to allow us to rent rooms.

Glace-de-mer is a wet, miserable village that bumps up against the northern seacoast. It is not the capital of Sevonne; that honor belongs to Virivis, a grand, cosmopolitan city some miles south along the river. The Blood Family moved their primary residence here some fifty years ago for reasons unknown. The palace of Glace-de-mer itself was built out of an old monastery that sat on the edge of the cliff up which the village slopes. I do wish I knew what happened to the monks.

Nothing of the monastery remains in the palace, a pale, grandiose structure with a red-tiled roof, rows and rows of windows, carved marble busts sticking out of the walls, gold leaf lining every edge. It looms over the village like a dark cloud of locusts, a plague wrought by the hand of an evil god. The rest of the village clusters around it, every building like a dying tree stretching desperate fingers to the sun. Mist pools in the cobblestone streets; shadows dance in the light of hundreds of hanging lanterns, which the city keeps lit at all times. This is essential to the functioning of the village, for people in this corrupted place conduct all business at night in keeping with the schedule of the King.

We first arrived in the village around midnight. Upon unpacking our things the Alchemist sent me immediately to fetch Luotti, who was in the habit of rehearsing through the night at the local theater. After wandering the streets for some time, I heard a sound that froze me still. A long, piercing cry, high and clear, ringing out like a silver bell. My breath stuck in my throat. Even the birds kept careful silence to listen. The note shifted then, and I was able to perceive the sound as singing.

I found the door of the theater unlocked and the lobby empty. When I entered the main hall, I met with the striking sight of an exceptionally tall and beautiful woman singing from center stage. She wore a long white dress with heavy accents of lace at the neck and cuffs. I looked around for someone who could be Luotti, but all the men I saw there sported beards, which I knew a castrato could never grow. Soon a man observing the rehearsal from the audience turned and approached me, speaking in a hushed and irritated whisper. “What are you here for?” he asked. I replied that I had come in search of Luotti, who had business with my master, and the man said, “Well, you have found her. She will come down when the song is finished.”

And she did. Noticing me waiting there, Luotti paused the rehearsal and descended to meet me. Nervously, I bowed my head and kissed the knuckles of her hand. She had a solemn, silvery look, hair the color of bone, eyes dark and wet with melancholy.

“You are the Alchemist’s apprentice?” she asked in a soft voice. “I apologize. You looked confused; I’m sure you were expecting a man. You should have come yesterday, when I was feeling boyish…he will want to see me later, I’m sure. Tell him to meet me at the Whipped Cat for supper. It’s the tavern where I’ve taken rooms. And give him this little pouch. There’s some coin for his trouble. From me.” Luotti extracted the pouch from her pocket and handed it to me. I felt the money clinking around within.

When I returned to the Alchemist, I told him when and where Luotti had asked to meet him. Then I said: “You did not tell me she was a woman.”

“Given your background,” the Alchemist responded, “I did not expect you to accept it so readily.”

I said: “Sir, in a way, I think her and I are the same.” He nodded at this, and I considered the discussion resolved.

The Alchemist did not want me at the Whipped Cat, I found; he claimed that his business with Luotti at this particular meal would be entirely personal. He set me the task of entering the palace to observe the Blood Family at supper, a public event most nights.

The thought chilled me to the bone. But I felt a strong pull in my gut, like a tugging at the thread of my destiny. This sensation entered me on our arrival at Glace-de-mer and even now it has not left. My hands throb. My joints ache, demanding movement. The Sun Lord needs me in this place… it is like crawling for a cave, up towards the light.

I took a light supper from the servants at de Rouxel’s house, who were obligated to provide for all the Duke’s guests. Then I went up to the heavy golden gates of the palace, where I produced the Alchemist’s Writ of Invite and said I was the man’s apprentice. I expected the lie to go rougher, but the watcher at the gate simply nodded and led me around to the servant’s entrance. I was not important enough, I surmised, to have the gate opened for me.

The palace smelled of blood and smoke and sweat. It smelled like a kennel for a lame dog, knowing it was to be shot, or perhaps like the cell of a hangman. I slid through the narrow halls, dodging the staff and clutching my papers at my side. I entered into a new corridor that smelled more strongly of meat and sugar, and passed a train of men carrying silver trays. Following this group, two men held up a heavy oaken cask on a platform suspended between two poles. A third, trailing behind, noticed me as he passed and said, “Sir, the way is to bow.”

“Forgive me,” I said, “for I am only just come to the palace.”

The man said: “You see the King’s Blood, you bow. Here.” He stopped the others and demonstrated for me. He gave a low, deep bow, pulling off his felt cap and sweeping its tip against the floor, and murmuring reverently, “The Blood of the King.”

I copied him, repeating “The Blood of the King” in a low and hesitant voice. The man nodded and went on his way. Sticking close to the wall, I followed this procession through the hall, whose doorways evidently led to the kitchens based on the noises of scraping and crackling and loud angry men. At a certain point the man who had taught me to bow noticed I was following him. He showed me the proper place to go if I wanted to watch the King dine, lest I find myself following the servers straight to the table.

I split away and found myself in a wide and opulent room with a checkered floor inlaid with bands of gold. I had entered a thronging crowd of people, some outfitted lavishly and some, like myself, of an evidently lower station. The rich, who spoke amongst themselves in a loud and heated way, were painted like clowns, a stark white with red cheeks. They wore lace: square lace collars and heavy sleeves for the men, long silken gowns with layers of linen cuffs for the women. The fabrics grew muted and dark as I moved further back in the crowd.

I heard the ringing of a heavy bronze bell. A man cried “The King enters—he who is most glorious and who does the will of the Moon—Amarant the Fifth!” At this the whole room bowed deeply and removed their caps. I followed suit.

I couldn’t see when the King entered, but I did see when he sat down. His opulence of dress and his horrible visage, which I have described earlier in this text, arrested my attention. The weight of my destiny—almost close enough to lunge at, after waiting so many years—settled in my very blood. I was on fire.

The crier announced the entrance of the Queen, the Blood Duke and the royal children. Abandoning etiquette, I slipped and twisted my way to the front of the tight crowd, until I had nearly marked the velvet rope separating the King’s supper-guests from his audience. As I reached the rope I felt the King’s soulless stare. Shocked and disturbed, I looked quickly away.

My eyes found the Blood Duke Cyril, who sat in a high-backed chair ringed by golden leaves. Suddenly he returned my gaze. I was close enough to see his pupils narrow into slits. His lip twitched into a snarl. I heard a growl, a deep rumbling wolvish sort of sound. A growl filled with such threat I thought it could start a mountain trembling.

My heart abandoned its rhythm and began to pound something frantic. A jolt of terror shot from my scalp to the soles of my feet. My hair stood on end. Although I knew not what, something had set this animal after me, and if I did not remove myself from his sight I feared he would pounce and wring my neck in his teeth.

Steeling myself, worried I might collapse, I pushed away from the velvet rope and made for the door through which I had entered. When I had entered the hallway I began to sprint in earnest. I allowed myself a deep breath of relief when I emerged into the cool, misty night, and the guard at the servants’ gate let me out without question. I began the walk back to de Rouxel’s house, taking a slow pace in an attempt to calm myself. I assumed that the rigid social obligations of supper with the King trapped the beast at the table, giving me time to barricade myself in the cellar. The sun would rise in maybe four hours besides. Surely Cyril Saint-Cloud had better to do than chase a man he had seen in passing at supper. Still, I wondered what he had seen or felt in me that had provoked him so, and whether I would be able to return safely to the palace at all.

I neared the house—only a few blocks away—when I felt the hair raise again on the back of my neck. My hands and feet tingled. My heart shivered. I fought the urge to freeze. Instead I spun around. The thick, turbulent mist swirled around a heavy shadow, gaining on me with bullet-speed. As the thing emerged from the distance I saw the twin lights of the monster’s yellow eyes, gleaming with violence.

I forced myself again into a sprint. I focused my eyes on the end of the street, the lamp hanging outside the Duke de Rouxel’s house. If I could make it inside, then the Blood Duke, I hoped, would not be able to cross the threshold. My lungs began to burn; my feet slammed into the ground, launching me forward. Suddenly I lost balance. I was skidding on the damp stone. I crashed wildly, skinning the palms of my hands and bruising my knees. I twisted up to see the Blood Duke bearing down on me, his fanged mouth open, teeth glistening with black saliva.

He seized me by my collar and yanked me to my feet. I fixed my thoughts on the grace and mercy of the Sun Lord, that He should see me survive to enact His holy will and destroy these beasts. I saw the sharp, slick claws tipping the vampyre’s fingers—extensible, it seemed, like a cat’s. He loomed over me by nearly a foot, his bulk blotting out my view of the street. He lowered himself to address me, and I felt his hot, stinking breath on my face, clogging my nose with the scent of dead flowers and iron. Dark blood stained his mouth. Glancing down, I saw for the first time his hideous bestial feet, uncovered by shoes. I began to shake uncontrollably, my body flooded alternately by the need to run, to freeze, to jam my fingers into the yellow eyes and burst them like egg-yolks. I knew I could not die, but I did not know what other evils the vampyre might inflict upon me.

The low, deep growl again rolled from the Blood Duke’s chest like fog, rumbling my very bones. Fear sapped the strength from my aching knees, and I stumbled. He pulled me up again, his grip on my collar nearly choking me—he licked blood from his lips with a long, black tongue—

A voice from the darkness. “Monsieur Cyril!” it called, high and clear. “Monsieur Cyril, let him be!”

The Blood Duke relaxed his grip, but only slightly. He left me with enough slack to turn and see Luca Luotti standing there, fists curled in her skirts. He said, “What do you want with this wretch? He attended our supper wearing Sunwater like perfume. He is a fanatic of the Sun Orthodoxy, snuck into the palace somehow. At worst he’s part of some plot. Is he known to you?” Suspicion laced his voice.

Luotti answered, “He is apprenticed to the alchemist I sent for from Liila.”

“Yes,” I interjected. “Sunwater is a necessary ingredient in the elixir we are brewing for the lady. I spilt it on myself earlier, and I see now that I did not clean myself properly. Being from Liila, I am not yet familiar with your kind, Your Grace, and I did not realize this would affect you so.”

The Blood Duke hawked a gob of black spit onto my face. It oozed down my cheek, warm and wet, and I shuddered in disgust, restraining my own urge to spit back. He snarled: “An outrageous lie. Tell me what it is used for, then.”

Before my terrified brain could claw forth a feeble answer, Luotti saved me: “It is a solvent, used to dissolve the shell of a sharp-folk egg and separate the membrane from it…the Alchemist was just telling me of the spill. This boy has proved a remarkable idiot as an apprentice, unfortunately. I can assure you he will not remain in his current position if an error of this magnitude occurs again. That said, Cyril, you must know that he doesn’t have half the wit required to plot against you or your brother.”

The Blood Duke sighed and released my collar from his grip. He looked into the sky, considering, I guessed, the position of the moon, and seeing the closeness of the morning turned to leave. Before loping off, he gave me one last warning: “If you ever bring Sunwater into the same room as my brother again, even the faintest trace of it, I’ll tear you open with my teeth.”

I wiped his spit off on my sleeve. When he had disappeared into the mist, I turned to Luotti to thank her. A sharp slap across the face disavowed me of that inclination. I pulled away and rubbed my cheek, indignant.

“What the Hell do you mean by that?” I spat.

She said: “I know your purpose here, Viori, and you jeopardize it by behaving like an idiot. You threaten the safety of the Alchemist, and by extension my own safety. What were you intending to do with Sunwater at supper?”

I said: “It is part of my prayers. I anoint myself with it upon waking. I did not think the vampyres would be able to smell it so long after.”

She said: “Monsieur Cyril can. He has a nose like a hound...you must be more careful. I am sure the Alchemist, when he told you to observe supper, did not intend you to cause such a scene. It may be difficult for you to regain entry to the palace, although I will try my best with Cyril on that front.”

I said: “He calls you by your given name.”

s

She said: “He does. We have been acquainted for a long time.”

I resolved not to press her on the intended meaning of acquainted. It sickened me to consider. She left then, back to her rooms at the Whipped Cat.

My nerves calmed when I finally reached the cellar. I found the Alchemist on the verge of sleep, grumbling and rolling over on his mat with a small leather pouch clutched to his chest, and I determined to let him lay there undisturbed. After bandaging my hands, I resolved to take out my journal, hoping I might calm myself enough for the rest of morning to take me. It is here you have found me, writing these notes from my little mat in the corner of the cellar.

I am not long for waking. I have only to make my prayers to the Sun Lord—thanking him for leading me to this place, to the altar where I will sacrifice devils to his name, for pruning my life to this divine purpose. Today’s events have only strengthened my determination. How lucky am I, to have been so anointed! So blessed! As I run my fingers over the glass beads of my prayer necklace I am so overcome with the Lord’s energy that I yearn to strangle myself with the leather cord, if only for a taste of the holy violence I am to enact.

The Sun Lord guards my sleep and works over my dreams with His capable hands, and in the long nights of the vampyres He walks beside me in my fear and my pain. If these words be in some future time the memory of a nation, and history claims me as her child, let the world know me as a zealot. I am the Sun Lord’s bride. I am holy fire. I am a spring coiled. I am the sound of water sizzling on hot stone. I am the Lord’s will, and I will burn the night until it smokes.

[theblogvibe]

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[mdidminfoway-blog]

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[gayforpaige]

Paige x Azzi

A/N: Hey guys! I have this posted on wattpad but just posting it here cause I haven’t really been on that app in a couple months! Anyways, let me know thoughts in the comments and if I should write a second part ! Also I couldn’t be bothered to double check my spelling so bare with me 🙏

Warnings: drinking, kissing, hickeys

After a sad ending to an eventful season, the Uconn women’s basketball team found themselves in the gym getting warmed up for their first practice back. For Paige Bueckers, a red shirt junior, returning for her fifth year, she was conflicted between all of the emotions running through her mind. On one hand, she was absolutely devastated knowing that when she would look around the room, Nika Muhl and Aaliyah Edwards, her teammates from the year before wouldn’t be there. On the other, she was excited for many reasons like getting to know the new freshman class, getting ready for the upcoming season and she was thrilled to finally and hopefully play a full season with Azzi Fudd, her long time best friend who was coming back from an injury. Azzi was just as thrilled to be coming back but she was also terrified of what was going to come, she was struggling to find her rhythm and return to the athlete that she once was. She promised herself that during this offseason she would work on both her skills and her confidence to hopefully come back stronger than she had left. 

Paige was a 6’0 blonde girl with the prettiest blue eyes most had ever seen. She had a muscular build, perfect arms, perfect legs, really she had a perfect body. She was known as the best women’s basketball player on the Uconn basketball team and would probably leave as one of the greatest to ever walk through the doors of the school. Azzi was a 5’11 light skin girl with a smile that could light up the world. She was known as a shooter and even Stephen Curry had credited her with the best shooting form he’d ever seen. Both girls together were a dynamic duo and had a connection that most teammates could only develop after years of practicing together but with Paige and Azzi, it had been automatic after only one meeting. 

Geno walked into the gym with his usual angry expression that had earned him the nickname “the grandpa from up” from Nika last year.

“Let’s pray he doesn’t make us run” Paige whispered to Azzi, Kk Arnold and Ice Brady earning a small laugh from all the girls.

“Alright girls, today is going to be a little different from our regular practices. We are entering a new season without Nika and Aaliyah who we all considered great leaders to this team and we are being joined by a handful of new teammates. For the next few practices we will be working on our team bond meaning we will be strengthening bonds that already exist between each other but we will also work on getting closer with the ones we do not know as well. For today’s exercises, I’ve placed everyone of you in teams of two and each of you will be either asking each other questions or fulfilling activities that should help you bond. It’s basically the game of 20 questions as you like to call it but we will be going into a deeper perspective during these questions that have already been decided based on who will be your partner”, Geno states. 

He then went on to naming teams - Ice and Kk, Ashlyn and Allie, Aubrey and Morgan… and lastly Paige and Azzi. Both girls were pleased to be with each other considering they had been best friends for almost seven years. They went to sit down in the far corner of the gym following the instructions given by their coach as to obtain the most privacy possible. Paige was wondering what questions they could possibly have to ask each other to fulfill the task of getting to know each other on a deeper level seeing as how they already connected of everything possible. Geno came over to them and handed them a stack of cards containing questions that had been submitted by the team managers, non athletes Uconn student.

“Alright question one: What is the one thing you admire the most about the other regarding the concept of your relationship?” Azzi read out looking up to Paige indicating her to answer the question first.

“That’s an easy one, I admire how you complete me” she said without diving into detail.

“What does that even mean” Azzi answered laughing.

“I don’t know how to explain it, it’s like you’re literally my other my half. I talk too much and you tell me when to shut up, I’m always agitated and you know how to calm me down, I’m always confused and you make it make sense, I’m always hungry and you know what I want to eat. Two peas in pot.” Paige said smirking and raising her arms up in the air, stretching her back and shoulders. She was wearing a navy blue practice shirt that made her ocean blue eyes stand out and a matching pair of practice shorts that she had rolled a couple times making them rest low on her waist. Azzi watched as her shirt rose when she lifted her arms, displaying her carved stomach and the muscles she had continued to gain. Paige noticed her eying her and for some reason felt a tinge of pride knowing that the work she put into her body had and effect on others. “Your turn to answer the question”.

“I like that you don’t pressure me. I mean you like to hang out all the time with the girls and I don’t, sometimes I prefer quiet and being by myself and I’m thankful that you let me have my space without trying to force me to hangout with you guys” Azzi said smiling at her blonde friend, her brown eyes full of admiration. Paige smiled back before asking the next question.

“What is something you either dislike about the other person or wish you could change about your relationship?” Paige read to her curly haired friend. 

“Sometimes I feel like you’re embarrassed to be seen with me. I know that people are constantly assuming our sexualities and the nature of our relationship and I find that since the rumours started you’ve been avoiding me as soon as a camera is in sight” Azzi admitted finally getting her confession off her chest. She looked down to the floor embarrassed not meeting her fiends eyes. Paige felt saddened hearing those words come out of Azzi’s mouth and seeing the way those feelings were so evident on her friend’s face. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s legs pulling her closer to her. She used her hand to lift her chin to meet her eyes. 

“I thought all the assumptions made you uncomfortable I mean I know you don’t like being on social media so I thought if I stayed sway from you when people were filming  eventually the rumours would stop and you’d be confortable around me again” she said starring deep into the others girl’s eyes. Azzi’s gaze softened as she relaxed knowing that her best friend didn’t want to get rid of her.

“Quite frankly I don’t care about what they make up about my life and I don’t care if they want to pretend we’re dating, I just don’t want you to ever shut me out and I don’t want you to push me away” Azzi said grabbing Paige’s free hand with both of hers. 

“Okay I’m sorry I will no longer push you away” Paige said softly caressing Azzi’s cheek both girls completely lost in their eyes. Snapping back to reality, Azzi dropped her head to her chest making Paige removed her hand from her face. “My turn?” Azzi nodded.

“I wish you would let me 100% in, I tell you everything that ever crosses my mind and I feel like sometimes you’re hiding things from me and I mean you can have secrets I dont mean everything but I guys I mean I don’t want to have to guess if you’re feeling up to seeing us or if you’d prefer being ignored I just want you to tell me how you’re feeling. Sometimes I can’t tell if you just want to be alone if you don’t want to be with me” she said.

“Okay I’ll try harder communicating with you” she said lightening up the mood with a smille. They continued with the rest of the questions and they were now down to the last card. Azzi picked it up.

“Okay this one isn’t a question. It says: Looking into a mirror, point out you’re insecurities to your partner and help the other get over them. Dorms?” Azzi asked looking at Paige to which she received a nod and off we went to the bathroom in our dorm room.

“You’re turn to go first” Azzi said.

“I don’t know if I’m honest, I’ve gotten so much more comfortable with myself this year I guess the only thing I’m still working on is muscle. I have gotten stronger but I don’t want to be a skinny kid and I want to play more physical so I guess that’s the only thing I’d want to change” Paige said while looking at herself in the mirror. 

“Well like you said it’s a good thing you can change that and with your work ethic I don’t think it’ll take much longer to get to your goal even if you’re body looks amazing as it is already” Azzi answered her friend while eying the blonde girls body. Paige caught her checking her out through the mirror and smirked to herself going red. 

Paige watched Azzi look over herself in the mirror, her hands subconsciously rising up to her stomach. Without needing to say anything, Paige placed herself behind the girl and wrapped her arms around the younger girls waist, setting her head on the girls shoulder. 

“You are the prettiest girl I will ever come across and there’s nothing you could ever change about yourself that could make you prettier, you’ve already reached perfection” Paige whispered in her ear in a low tone sending a shiver down the other girl’s body. Turning her head to look into the mirror, the girls eyes locked. When Paige turned her head back towards Azzi’s neck, her lips hovering over her skin, inhaling her vanilla perfume and closing her eyes, something shifted in the mood. At that moment, the main door to their dorm opened and the sound of many girls laughing could be heard. Coming back to reality, the girls practically jumped to the opposite side of the bathroom, Paige rushing out of the room altogether.

Out in the home room belonging to Paige, Azzi, Kk and Ice, every girl in the team was sitting around talking about the activity they had just performed and the ones that would come. Azzi was sitting next to Caroline and Allie on the couch while Paige made a point of being as far away from her, sitting at the table situated on the opposite side of the room with Jana and Kk. 

The blonde girl had decided to completely ignore the situation and just pretend it never happened. Even if she chose to pretend the past couple minutes hadn’t occurred, her eyes were drawn to the brunette girl sitting opposite from her who refused to look up from her phone if she wasn’t engaged in conversation with her other teammates. The one time that Azzi lifted her head to sneak a glance at Pige, their eyes met. Paige had always been known for being a girl that wasn’t affected by eye contact, often she was the one that initiated it. Not wanting to appear weak, Azzi held her gaze locked into her blonde friend’s. Shockingly, Paige’s cheeks went red and she put her head down flustered. Azzi had always known that Paige had that affect on every boy and girl they came across, even herself but she had never seen her as more then her very  attractive best friend. Azzi was also a very pretty girl who also caught the people’s eye having being nicknamed the people’s princess. She knew that people didn’t only come to watch her play basketball but rather because she was just another pretty girl in a uniform but she was pleased to know that she also had a similar affect on Paige. 

Azzi didn’t know how to feel about what had just happened with her closest friend. Paige had always been stuck in the younger girls mind ever since the first time they met during their olympic trial practices years ago. The way she saw it, she could either ignore it or confront it but how she would do that she didn’t even know. She didn’t know how she felt about what had happened. She didn’t know how to react to the feeling of Paiges’s breath coming down on her skin, the feeling of Paige’s lips hanging above her bare shoulder. She didn’t know how to intake the gaze full of emotion, the feeling of her arms wrapping around her body, how she fit perfectly into Paige’s body as if they had once been molded together. Looking at Paige across the room, everything that had happened flashed vividly through her mind. Her heart clenched watching the blonde girl smile and laugh at the other girls jokes while she avoided Azzi’s eyes as much as she could but when their eyes did cross paths, looking away was the most difficult thing to do. 

Later that night the girls decided to go out to a close by bar. Neither of the two girls had spoken to each other in hours but maybe that would change tonight. Paige had decided on a pair of black cargo pants and a loose white t shirt, opting for a more masculine style. Azzi had decided on a similar black pair of pants and a bright green tank top with an open back. While Ice and Kk were waiting in Azzi’s room, Paige had just finished drying her hair and was now heading over to meet with the other three girls. When she walked in she was met with her younger friend doing her makeup in the bathroom where they had shared their last moments together. Feeling bold she walked into the smaller room, leaning against the counter right beside Azzi, her back facing the miroir. 

“You look good” she said nonchalantly, eyeing her friend from head to toe and not being discreet about it. 

“You’re not so bad yourself Bueckers” was Azzi’s response, keeping her eyes facing the mirror on the wand of her mascara not daring to look at the blonde girl, scared she would fold. 

The taller girl laughed to herself before exiting the room but not without letting her fingers skim Azzi’s waist, automatically feeling the shiver run through her body. 

When Azzi finally walks out indicating that she is ready to leave, sitting on the couch is Paige and the two other girls all laughing together. Paige’s arm is resting on the back of the couch, right behind Ice’s shoulders. Her legs are spread apart while her other hand resting on her thigh. It’s definitely a sight to see. They had decided to take Paige’s car and by tradition Azzi was in the passengers seat truly owning up to the title of the princess. She was also on aux which was why she was surprised when Paige handed her phone to the girl. 

“Password?” she asked.

“Your birthday” Paige answered automatically shocking Azzi. When she put in the digits to her birthday, the phone opened. She smiled to herself knowing that she was important enough to the girl sitting next to her.  

For the rest of the car ride, the four girls sang their hearts out to every song that Azzi chose. Paige parked next to the other two girls on her team who had drove the rest of their teammates to the club. Walking through the doors, they spotted the rest of the girls already sitting at a booth and made their way over to them. 

Paige

Nobody knew of my sexuality since I had never made it public but that never stopped people from assuming I was into girls. However, they were not wrong. Having grown in a women’s sport full of probably the world prettiest creations, it hadn’t taken long for me to know that men were the furthest thing from attractive. It was still a little surreal to me that people really wanted me so when people came up to me the second I walked into the club, I had to remind myself that this was part of the public image I had made for myself. For some reason, men where the ones coming up to me left and right even though I pretty much gave of the lesbian vibes from miles away. Not wanting to seem rude, I entertained the conversation while my friends made their way further in the building, trying to politely pull away and go join the group. When I finally got away, the girls had dispersed into groups across the room, some of them dancing, others drinking, only Azzi wasn’t anywhere in sight. Looking around I found her on the dance floor with a blonde girl probably the same height as her. My heart dropped at the sight for some reason. We had always been super close friends but we had a weird relationship. Neither of us had dated other people since we’d met each other so we’d never talked about our sexualities but Id always assumed she was straight. It confused me why all of a sudden I felt annoyed at the sight of her talking to another girl knowing that it was probably a new friend. I sat down with my teammates and tried to engage in the conversation but all I could do was watch the two girls dance together. It seemed like hours had passed before Azzi finally pulled away and walked back to the table.

“That looked cozy” Caroline joked making all the girls laugh and Azzi blush. She blushed. BLUSHED. 

“It was nothing let’s not think too much about it” Azzi said shutting down the thought of her and that girl. 

“Oh come on she was basically begging for you to kiss her” Kk said dramatically, leading all the girls to agree with her. 

“I was just not to attracted to her you know” Azzi answered, sitting down in the open spot next to me while taking a sip of my drink, a shirley temple. 

“You got someone else in mind?” Kk asked, earning no verbal response but only a smirk. 

So to cover what I had learned from this very confusing night - Azzi was into girls, Azzi was not into that blonde girl, Azzi was not into me because I’m also a blonde girl and Azzi has her sights on someone. I don’t know why the realization that my closest friend not being interested in me seemed to be the most gut wrenching news Id heard all week but I just decided to drink the pain away. I got up from my seat and headed over to the bar where I ordered several shots. 

Azzi

I watched as Paige took 4 shots, then 5 and then 6 before I finally made my way over. We hadn’t spoken since earlier today in our bathroom so I just decided to blame the alcohol in my system for my sudden boldness. Just as she went to grab her seventh shot, I took it from her and drank it myself. She turned to face me. 

“What’s up with you” I asked.

“Nothing” she answered back. 

“Don’t lie to me Paige” I told her stepping between her open legs. 

“You like someone?” she asked, changing the subject. 

“I don’t know, maybe. You?” I told her knowing she probably wasn’t going to remember this conversation. 

“Maybe” was all she answered with a smirk spreading across her face. I ordered a couple shots for myself before dragging the blonde girl onto the dance floor with me. 

What had started as innocent dancing slowing turned into something more when her hands found my hips and my back was flat against her chest. With the alcohol kicking in, neither of us were paying too much attention to where our hands would land on the others body. For the second time today, Paige’s lips rested right above my bare shoulder travelling to my neck to finally find my ear. 

“Let’s go” she pleaded, slurring her words. Everything in me screamed not to take her up on that request but my legs grew a mind of their own. 

We called an uber to drive us back to our dorm. The entire car ride, I could feel my heart racing and my head spinning. I’d sat in the middle of the back seat to be as close to her as I could. I was leaning on her, my head resting on her shoulder while her hand drew shapes on my expose skin. When we got to our dorm, all of the warning I was sending myself vanished. When the door closed, my back found the wall and a pair of lips crashed onto mine. I could taste the alcohol on her tongue and I knew she was tasting the same from me. Her hands travelled from my neck to my back, the presence of her touch far too noticeable from the lack of fabric covering the area. Her fingers pressed into my skin leaving their presence whenever they moved. The kiss was passionate and rough, both of us fighting for dominance. My hands were in her hair, pulling her face to an angle to deepen the kiss. 

Her lips were pink and swollen when we finally pulled away for air and while I tried to catch my breath, she took it from me again when she attached her mouth to my neck attacking my skin. When she got down to my collar bone and chest the soft kissing turned into sucking, guaranteeing a mark tomorrow morning. She lowered herself onto her knees the more her kissed got lower onto my body. When she reached the waistband of my pants, my mind sobered up. Softly pushing her off me, I looked down at the confused girl below me. 

“We can’t, as much as I want too, you’re drunk” I told her. She had always been a lightweight so the effects of whatever she had drunk were still pretty strong but she still understood my words and got up. Cupping my face in her hands, she whispered, “Stay with me tonight”.

I nodded and followed her into her room. While she changed into her pyjamas, I borrowed a pair of her softer lounge shorts and a hoodie. Looking at myself in the mirror on the front of her closet, I could see a trail of hickeys across my chest. Pulling down her sweatshirt, I was reassured knowing that they were fully covered. I turned around to find a almost asleep Paige lying in her bed looking at me. With a small smile I joined her in bed, my back to her, not being able to face her right now. Still, her arms wrapped around my waist pulling me closer and her head nuzzled into the crook of my neck. It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep after that. However for me, I was up for hours after questioning what would happen tomorrow morning. 

I had never looked at Paige like that. I had never seen her as more than a friend. Sure she had always been pretty and charming but that was the extent of it. Tonight, kissing her felt right. I wasn’t sure whether it was the alcohol talking or if I was being honest with myself. Ignoring the small moment from earlier was one thing but ignoring the whole make out session she had just had with the girl sleeping beside her was another. Would she regret it? Would she be mad at me? Would this end our friendship?  I didn't know what to

expect but all the overthinking ended up sending me to sleep. 

…

When I woke up the next morning, we were still laying in the same position as last night. My head hurt but not as bad as I thought it would. Paige had woken up before me and was scrolling on her phone with her volume at the lowest setting. I turned to look at, the closeness of our faces sending a shiver down my spine. 

“Good morning” she whispered. 

“How are you feeling” I asked her. There was no feeling of awkwardness between us to my surprise. 

“My head hurts like hell. I can still taste the alcohol in my mouth” she mumbled, turning on her back and conversing her eyes with her hands. “I can’t remember anything, what the hell did I drink” 

There it was. That sentence defined how our relationship would go forward. 

“You don’t remember anything?” I asked her. 

“I remember you and that girl, heading to the bar and then seeing you but after it’s a blank” she stated. “I didn’t do anything stupid right?” 

We stayed in silence for a moment, Paige racking her mind for any memories of last night while I replayed every second. The feeling of her lips on mine, on my body, the feeling of her hands in my hair, on my skin was setting me on fire. I didn’t know her true feelings about what had happened and now that she didn’t even remember, I never would know them. There was no purpose in me telling her if she couldn’t even relive them for herself. So I kept it to myself.

“Nothing stupid that I can remember” I told her. 

“Can we stay in bed for a little longer?” she asked, begging. 

We didn’t have anything planned for today seeing as how this was our one day off for the week, so I nodded, also needing the extra rest. What I didn’t expect was for her to turn back on to her side and hid her face into my neck, wrapping her arms around my waist, holding me tight and close. 

[snowcodes]

Life Update things!

Started my morning with a meeting from the uni I'm about to start in September. They were super lovely about my health needs, and I'm excited to start the course!

I'm still working through my current separate course to become a full stack developer and doing my best to practice a bit of code each day. The course I'm currently on is partnered with Codecademy, so I'm currently working through their career path.

There are so many projects to get through on codecademy, which can be a bit daunting...but I have to keep telling myself that it will all get easier with practice.

Practice, practice.... practice!!

My stupid health may have turned my life upside down in terms of what I wanted to do career....but I'm not giving up my chances of having a good job and a good life. So....

...

Screw you, Fibromyalgia.

I'm gonna do all the things you keep trying to stop me from doing.