#Transforming Return Operations

[alertbrilliant4204]

Reverse Logistics Service Providers In Vijayavada

Effective reverse logistics is vital for businesses to manage returns and optimize their supply chain, particularly in growing commercial hubs like Vijayawada. Finding reliable partners is crucial for efficient returns management and cost savings. While exploring options, it’s helpful to consider capabilities that extend across the region, as many leading Reverse Logistics Service Providers In Tamil Nadu and neighboring states offer services covering key cities like Vijayawada.

[theweirdestroller]

Absolutely loving how, while watching though RiD 2015, I'll just pause the episode so the rat and I can talk about what Sunny's doing or where other characters are.

Today has been quite fun as we discussed general Continuity things (Vogel and the Prime kids), the religious art pre-war Cybertron no doubt had, the Twins' taste in music, and Sunstreaker scrolling through the oldest blogs known to man so he can learn sewing stuff from someone named Gertrude.

[reasonsforhope]

"A tribal-led nonprofit is creating a network of native bison ranchers that are restoring ecosystems on the Great Plains, restoring native ranchers’ connections with their ancestral land, and restoring the native diet that their ancestors relied on.

Called the Tanka Fund, they coordinate donors and partners to help ranchers secure grazing land access, funds needed to install and repair fencing, increase their herd sizes, and access markets for bison meat across the country.

That’s the human part of the story. But as Dawn Sherman, executive director of the Tanka Fund, told Native Sun News, they’re “buffalo people” and these four-legged, 2,000 lbs. “cousins” are equal-part-protagonists.

The return of the bison means the return of the prairie, one of the three great grassland ecosystems on the planet, of which just 1% remains as it was when the Mayflower arrived.

“Bringing buffalo back to their ancestral homelands is essential to restoring the ecosystem. We know that the buffalo is a keystone species,” said Dawn Sherman, a member of the Lakota, Delaware, Shawnee, and Cree.

“Bringing the buffalo back to the land and to our people, helps restore the ecosystem and everything it supports from the animals to the plants to the people. It’s come full circle. That’s how we see it.”

As Sherman and the Tanka Fund help native ranchers grow their operations, everyone is well aware of the power of the bison to transform the environment: just as nations across Europe are, who are reintroducing wood bison to various ecosystems, for all the same reasons.

Sherman points out the variety of ways in which buffalo anchor the prairie ecosystem. The almost-extinct black-footed ferret, she points out, lived symbiotically with the bison, and with the latter gone, the former followed—nearly.

The long-billed curlew uses bison dung as a disguise to hide nests from predators. Deer, pronghorn antelope, and elk all rely on bison to plow through deep snows and uncover the grasses that these smaller animals can’t reach.

Everywhere the bison hurls its massive body, life springs in the beast’s wake. When bison roll about on the plains, it creates depressions known as wallows. These fill with rainwater and create enormous puddles where amphibians and insects thrive and reproduce. Certain plants evolved to grow in the wet conditions of the wallows which Native Americans harvested for food and medicine.

Native plants evolved under the trampling hooves of millions of bison, and that constant tamping down of the Earth is a key necessity in the spreading of native wildflower seed.

Indeed, Sherman says some of these native ranchers are bringing bison onto lands still visibly affected by the Dust Bowl, and already the animals are acting like a giant wooly cure-all for the land’s ills.

Since 2020, the Tanka Fund, in partnership with the Inter-Tribal Buffalo Council and the Nature Conservancy, has overseen the transfer of 2,300 bison from Nature Conservancy reserves to lands managed by ranchers within the Tanka Fund network.

“[T]he more animals that we can get the more of that prairie we can restore,” said Sherman. “We can help restore the land that has been plowed and has been leased out to cattle ranchers.”"

-Article via Good News Network, February 13, 2025. Video via Tanka Fund, July 17, 2024.

[humanjarvis]

headcanon that farspace colonel!caleb gradually stops dropping the g’s from his words. in his new role, he’s forced to wear an unwavering mask of perfection, of accuracy and infallibility—there’s no place for his playful, informal cadence in the fleet’s operations.

and so, as the months go by, he exchanges his signature what are you thinkin’s and where are you’re goin’s for their grammatically correct yet vapid counterparts. 

when you reunite with him, it’s one of the many things about his transformation that make your heart ache, but you’ll never bring it up. you won’t risk crumpling his already fragile selfhood over such a trivial perception.

but the more time you spend together after you reconcile, the more his natural speech pattern peeks through.  

you’re in the midst of a pillow fight, landing blow after blow on his back, when you hear it: “you think you’re gettin’ the best of me? i don’t think so.”

and you’re so overjoyed by his casual tone—his transient return to the caleb you once knew—that you briefly forget what you’re doing, having no time to react before his apple throw pillow smacks you in the face

[the-real-team-starkid]

With your help, THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS will return to the stage this summer! Check out the Kickstarter pre-launch page and bookmark the project!

The hit horror-comedy musical returns after seven years for a bigger, longer live run. Join Paul, Emma, and the rest of Hatchetfield in a fight for survival as the world around them is transformed into a musical hell!

If funded, the live remount will run this summer (July - August 2025) at the El Portal Theater in Los Angeles, CA. Following that, a digital version of the new performance will be made available at first to rent, then it'll hit YouTube a short time later. The show's Kickstarter campaign starts Saturday, April 26th, so bookmark the project and join us for the horror and jubilation!

This long awaited remount of THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS will be directed by Lauren Lopez. It will star:

Jon Matteson as Paul Matthews

Lauren Lopez as Emma Perkins

Joey Richter as Ted Spankoffski

Corey Dorris as Bill Woodward

Jaime Lyn Beatty as Charlotte Sweetly

Jeff Blim as Mr. Davidson & General MacNamara

Mariah Rose Faith Casillas as Zoey Chambers, Alice Woodward & The Greenpeace Girl

Will Branner as Professor Hidgens

THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS features a book by Nick & Matt Lang, and music & lyrics by Jeff Blim. More info about the remount's creative team to come over the course of the Kickstarter campaign.

WARNING: THE GUY WHO DIDN'T LIKE MUSICALS is intended for mature audiences. It features adult language, adult humor, simulated violence, singing, dancing, and imagery that some audience members may find frightening. Viewer discretion is advised.

VIDEO CREDITS:

Kickstarter Video Director: Nick Lang

Director of Photography: Curt Mega

Production Coordinator: Kim Whalen

Camera Operator: Eric Carroll

Make-Up Artist: Gabriela Vega

Editor: Nick Lang

Promotional Photographer: Paul Gabriel

Logo Designer: Meg Lloyd

Meteor Created by: Matt Lang

KS Video Cast: Jon Matteson, Lauren Lopez, Jeff Blim, Mariah Rose Faith Casillas, Corey Dorris, Joey Richter

Music: Jeff Blim & Matt Dahan

[shina913]

Crossfade | CHS

Pairing: Chwe Hansol (Vernon) x AFAB!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: S2L; fluff; smut

Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; oral (both giving/receiving); protected sex; PIV sex; dirty talk

Word count: 5k(ish) words

Summary: After a concert, you meet Hansol on a crowded train when you accidentally bump into each other. One thing leads to another, and soon you find yourself exploring his vinyl collection.

A/N: I finally put all the Vernon visuals that have been plaguing my mind for months now to good use! I'm also just really glad I got to finish this (took me long enough)! Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣

This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.

Your ears still rang with echoes from tonight’s concert as you boarded the train home near the arena. The car was packed and personal space became nonexistent. Despite that, the show’s excitement hadn’t worn off. Your group huddled around a single metal railing, animatedly discussing favorite moments—from surprise guests to the ever-changing encore set.

”Doors are closing,” the operator announced through the intercom. A few more concertgoers exiting the venue sprinted toward the platform, desperate to avoid a thirty-minute wait for the next train.

Mid-conversation about the show’s highlights, another group suddenly pushed into the crowded car, nearly causing you to face-plant into your friend. Just as anger flared up, you caught sight of warm, brown eyes belonging to someone behind the person who bumped you. The brown-eyed man stepped forward and offered a sincere apology for his friend’s clumsy entrance.

Time slowed, and the ringing in your ears faded as you heard him speak.

“Are you okay? Sorry, my buddy’s a bit of a klutz.” Mr. Brown Eyes shot his friend a warning look, prompting another round of apologies from him.

It took you a moment to respond. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” you muttered, blinking slowly.

He turned to check on your friend whom you had stumbled into. While you struggled for words, she responded with enthusiasm: “You can run through me anytime, honey.”

Mortified, you gave her a subtle elbow nudge to shush her, but it just made her laugh more. His lips curved into a slow smile, getting a kick out of your friend’s flirty comment.

The train jerked into motion and you lost your footing again, stumbling right into him. He acted fast, circling his arm around your waist to hold you steady.

As you stood close to him, you caught a whiff of his subtle but inviting fragrance. You resisted the urge to press your nose against his skin to identify the exact scent notes of his cologne.

“Hey, are you alright there?”

Now it was your turn to stammer an apology.

“I’m…so sorry.”

He offered another smile as you regained your footing. “It’s alright. I got you.”

His eyes were like deep pools, inviting you to dive right in. If it were up to you, you’d have lost yourself in them any day—just not tonight as you heard your friends from a distance, complaining about post-concert hunger.

“I, uhm, have to get back. Thank you, though.”

A flicker of reluctance crossed his face, but he gave a polite nod and released you.

“My pleasure. Have a good night,” he said as you pulled away to rejoin your group. He returned to his friends, who stood not too far from your group.

One of your friends suggested grabbing late-night burgers and fries at a local diner a couple of stops away. Through the sound of the train car’s humming, you caught the brown-eyed stranger’s voice as he suggested the very same diner to his friends.

When the train reached the stop, your group off-boarded with him and his friends following behind.

Pushing open the diner’s door, you were greeted by a wall of sound and energy—evidently, you weren’t the only ones who craved a bite to eat after the show.

The diner had transformed into an impromptu continuation of the concert, the speakers blasting the same artist’s hits.

Your group managed to claim a booth, and just as you were settling in, you spotted him and his friends entering. They also immediately caught the infectious energy of the place, their faces lighting up with excitement.

He scanned the room for a familiar face—and though you hated to admit it, watching him search was thrilling. You lowered your menu and held his gaze, willing him to look your way. When he finally spotted you, he gave a subtle smile of acknowledgment before following his group to their table across the room.

********

After scarfing down a burger and way too many fries, the diner owner cranked up the volume, transforming the main dining area into a massive dance floor. People started moving between tables and you and your friends slid out of your booth to join the crowd, dancing and singing along.

Somewhere in the middle of this spontaneous celebration, the man from the train weaved through, making his way to you until you were standing face to face.

“Long time, no see.” There was that smile again. You caught your lower lip between your teeth, trying to contain your excitement.

“Hey.”

The music and crowd were getting louder and it became challenging to try and have an intimate conversation. He leaned into your ear, his warm breath traveling down your neck. “Did you enjoy the show tonight?”

“I did. You?” You mirrored his action, tilting your head up to his ear.

He nodded, his gaze following the gentle rhythm of your hips swaying to the infectious beat of the song. The pulsing music around you gradually faded into a muffled hum as his eyes remained fixed on you, creating your own little bubble in the midst of the crowded diner.

Like déjà vu, your bubble burst when enthusiastic dancers behind him stumbled, causing him to pitch forward. Your reflexes kicked in as your hands gripped his shoulders to steady him, catching him by surprise.

He flashed a smile, mouthing both thanks and apologies. “Sorry about that.”

“I’m just happy I could return the favor,” you grinned, watching him regain his composure.

“Hope I didn’t step on your toes?”

You laughed, shaking your head no.

After a moment’s hesitation, he relaxed and decided to introduce himself. “My name’s Hansol. What’s yours?”

Unsure what to expect from this encounter, you paused. Sure, you found him attractive, but you thought tonight would be more like a one-off. Plus, the mystery kept things interesting.

You responded with a playful laugh and raised an eyebrow at him.

His eyes crinkled with amusement. “I just want to remember who I’m dancing with.”

Okay…he’s sweet. Despite your best efforts to stay cautious, you gave in. He seemed sincere, and meeting this way felt more natural than through dating apps.

You told him your name.

He repeated it carefully, testing each syllable to make sure he said it correctly. When he said it with more confidence, you nodded in approval.

“Do you like music?”

“Isn’t that kind of obvious since I went to a concert?” you teased.

His laugh at your sarcastic response made you smile—most people would have already rolled their eyes. Sensing his genuine intentions, you let your guard down a bit and pulled back on the snark. “Sorry,” you apologized. “I do—I love all kinds of music. Why do you ask?”

“Well, you see…” he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I have this vinyl collection at my place.”

Your eyebrows lifted with curiosity, which he misread as concern.

“I promise that’s not some weird code for anything,” he quickly reassured you. “I just thought you might like to listen to a few records.”

You’d always found people with vinyl collections interesting. There was something about someone who takes the time to curate physical albums in this age of streamed music. What inspired them to start collecting? What stories hid behind each carefully chosen album? What kind of music shaped their taste?

You smiled and answered, “Sure, why not?”

************

“Make yourself at home,” he invited with a warm smile, stepping aside to allow you to enter first.

Hansol’s apartment looked neat, especially for a young guy who lived alone. The shoes were neatly organized in a rack by the doorway, and there weren’t any dirty dishes in the sink as you walked past the kitchen.

When you stepped into the living space, you were immediately awestruck by the breathtaking floor-to-ceiling shelves that dominated two entire walls of his living room—each one meticulously organized with vinyl records—hundreds of them!

“Can I get you anything to drink?” He called out from the kitchen. “I have beer…” he took a quick inventory of his fridge, “and water.”

“Water is fine, thanks. It’s a little late.” You found yourself drawn to his collection, moving closer to examine it. Your fingers brushed the cardboard sleeves of the albums, feeling the different textures of each one.

A glass appeared in your peripheral vision. You turned and accepted it from him.

“Have you lived here long?” You made an attempt at small talk after taking a sip.

He narrowed his eyes to think back. “About two years now, I think? I used to move around a lot because of my job.”

“Must be difficult to transport all this,” you gestured at his expansive collection.

He laughed. “You can say that. But I hire some really good movers, especially for my records. I have a lot of vintage albums and I need people who can handle them with care.”

You explored his collection some more, spotting some familiar artists and albums while discovering others you’d never encountered before. Some titles sounded obscure and indie; some limited pressings with handwritten labels that hinted at his appreciation for musical rarities beyond mainstream catalogues.

“Pick one,” he encouraged softly. “I have them organized alphabetically by artist, then chronologically by year of release.”

There was always one album that popped into your head first when you thought of records, but you wondered if he had it. You moved toward the index divider that indicated the letter of the alphabet of that artist.

You knew the album title by heart, but the exact release year escaped you—all you remembered was that it was very old.

Just as you were about to move onto a different artist, a familiar spine caught your eye. You couldn’t help but smile, pleasantly surprised to find this in his collection. Carefully, you slid the album out of the shelf and handed it to him.

His eyebrows quirked as he examined your selection, then his eyes flicked up to meet yours. “Interesting choice.”

You tilted your head to one side, curiosity piqued by his cryptic comment. “Why’s that?”

He shrugged. “I just didn’t expect you to pick this album”

“Well, I also didn’t expect to be in a stranger’s apartment listening to records, yet here we are.” You turned and took a seat on the couch.

“Fair.”

Hansol’s audio setup was meticulous—an analog control panel with knobs and manual sliders to adjust bass, treble, and vocals. Each control featured its own illuminated meter that glowed when he powered on the system, connecting to strategically placed speakers and subwoofers throughout the room. It was an audiophile’s dream.

The moment felt almost ceremonial as he placed the record on the turntable. Once the needle glided over the record’s grooves, the typical crackling sound echoed before the first track’s opening notes emerged. Nostalgia began to trickle in.

“Any reason why you chose this one?” he asked after propping the empty album sleeve on a stand next to the player.

“It’s…kind of cheesy,” you shook your head, turning sheepish.

He settled beside you. “No, really. I’d like to know the story behind this,” he said, sounding genuinely curious.

You felt vulnerable under his gaze, but something about it made you feel safe. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“Try me.”

You narrowed your eyes briefly, wondering if you should share a personal memory to this stranger you had just met.

He waited patiently, careful not to press too hard so he didn’t cross that line.

What the hell. You had sprung right for his invitation despite only a few lines of conversation between you.

You cleared your throat. “So when I was little, my grandparents used to babysit me often, and they would play this album whenever I was at their house.” Your voice softened at the memory. “They’ve been gone a while, but this album always reminds of them.”

A smile broke through his lips.

“You said you weren’t going to laugh!”

“I’m not laughing,” he insisted, his face remaining neutral.

“No, I know it’s sappy,” you groaned, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your sentimentality.

“Not at all. I think that’s really sweet. I also happen to love this album,” he confessed. “I won it from an online auction. I even got into a bidding war with somebody from some place I can’t pronounce.”

His anecdote brought a smile to your face. Then, he delved into the album’s history, explaining its conception, the intricate recording process, and how the artist crafted it as a profound declaration of love for their partner.

Maybe it was the lingering rush of endorphins from tonight’s concert, but you found yourself utterly captivated not just by the random trivia, but by the enthusiastic way he waxed poetic about it. It was as if he’d held onto all this information, only waiting for the right person to tell it to.

You turned to face him, tucking one leg beneath you while resting your elbow against the back of the sofa. Leaning your head against your palm, you gave him your full attention as he continued on.

Suddenly, he paused, realizing you hadn’t said anything in a while. “I’m sorry—I just kind of went off on a tangent there. I didn’t mean to monopolize the conversation.”

“Nothing to apologize for. I’m just listening.” You wished you had come across more people like him who were passionate enough about something, and who had dedicated so much time to studying it and understanding it enough so they could convince other people about how amazing it is.

You set your empty glass on the coffee table and shifted your position, settling back into the couch cushions. This time, you narrowed the space between you, your shoulder almost brushing against his as you leaned in.

“Digital music these days is so different. With records, you catch all these hidden gems—a spontaneous ad lib or an extra guitar riff that would’ve been edited out of modern recordings. That’s what makes them so special.”

Unable to resist your closeness, he reached across and let his fingertips skim over your forearm, leaving goosebumps in their trail. “I couldn’t agree more.”

The conversation faded into a comfortable silence, dark eyes locked into you as he shifted closer, cupping your jaw. His face was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath. You close your eyes in anticipation…and then, he was gone.

“Shit,” He jumped up as soon as he heard the track skipping, hurrying to the player to carefully lift the tone arm before it did more damage to the record. He sighed and smiled regretfully. “Gotta love vintage.”

You shrugged, “S’okay.”

He glanced at your empty glass. “Do you want a refill?”

What you’d really liked him to do was come back on the couch next to you. Before you got a chance to answer, your phone buzzed from your purse. Checking the screen, you found your friend’s caller ID flashing.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” You rushed down a hallway, away from the living room, before picking up.

Your friend was panicking when she heard your voice, asking if you were okay since you hadn’t checked in. You had a system for safety when you were out with guys—regular check-ins were the rule. This was your first time missing a text update, though she could still track your location. Speaking quietly, you reassured her that everything was fine and promised to call her once you got home—which seemed to placate her.

“Is everything okay?” Hansol asked the moment you hung up.

When you turned to face him, his tall, lean frame filled the narrow hallway as he leaned against the wall, his expression concerned. In the brief silence before you answered, you noticed music drifting through the room again—he must have flipped the record to its B-side while you were on the phone.

“Yeah. It’s just my friend checking in.” You tried to keep your voice steady despite how much his presence affected you.

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed, pushing off the wall to make his way toward you. “Do you have to leave?”

“I don’t have to.” The words came out softer than intended, but they made his eyes light up with interest.

His lips quirked in a small smile as he moved closer, the hallway feeling much narrower than it already was. “That’s good to hear.”

“Oh? How so?” You stayed rooted to your position, heart racing as you awaited his next move.

He drew closer until you were pressed against the wall, making it increasingly difficult to maintain coherent thoughts.

“I was hoping I could play you some more records,” his voice dropping lower. “I have some more favorites I’d love to share with you.”

“But you have so many.” Your voice wavered despite your attempt to keep it together (and spectacularly failing). “We could be here all night.”

His eyes danced with amusement as they roamed over your features. “I fail to see the problem there. Unless…you don’t want to, of course?” His voice was gentle, allowing you an easy out if you wanted to take it.

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. Bringing your face closer to his, you asked, “You think you can keep me entertained with your records all night?”

He brushed his nose against yours, the gentle contact sending shivers through your entire body. “I have other ways to keep you entertained, if you’re interested.”

You turned your head toward the end of the hallway, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite his proximity to you.

“What’s back there?” You jutted your chin, though you already knew the answer.

“My bedroom.”

“Ah.” You tried to sound casual, but your pulse quickened, your breath catching slightly in your throat as you swallowed hard.

“Would you...like to see it?”

“Are there more records in there?” You asked playfully, your fingers itching to touch him.

“Would you go in if I said there were?”

His face hovered inches from yours, his breath ghosting across your lips. The slight part of his mouth a silent invitation—one that tested the limits of your self-control.

So you succumbed to desire, bunching the hem of his shirt in your hand and pulling him in, eliminating what little space remained between you, sealing your mouth over his.

His fingertips skated gently down your arm until they reached your hand. Linking your fingers together and backing into the bedroom, taking you with him.

******

His bedroom was just as neat as the front room—every surface pristine and organized—though you barely had time to appreciate it before his arms captured you, his lips finding yours again.

Guiding you to the bed, he sat down and drew you between his knees, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

You peeled off his shirt, and he helped you out of yours, both of you savoring each newly exposed inch of skin.

You took a moment to admire the sight of him gazing up at you from his seated position—his bare chest rising and falling with quickened breaths, eyes filled with barely-contained eagerness and a hint of vulnerability.

Something about him felt inexplicably familiar. Despite having only met by chance, you felt a connection between you—one that felt mutual, judging by the way his lips moved against yours.

His fingers traced up your arms to your shoulders, where he slowly slipped your bra straps down, sending goosebumps racing across your skin. You reached behind to undo the clasp, letting him pull the black lace fabric away.

Your breath caught when his thumb grazed your nipple. You cradled his jaw, tilting his face up to yours and sweeping your tongue across his lips. His hands rested on your hips while he trailed kisses down your abdomen. Your body arched toward him, craving more of his touch.

You eased yourself onto the mattress, straddling his thighs. Your fingers wove through his hair, angling his head just right to slot your mouth with yours.

He slowly fell back onto the bed, pulling you with him until you were pressed against his chest.

Wrapping his arms around you, he rolled you beneath him, nuzzled briefly against your throat, then moved lower. He teased your nipples with soft brushes of his lips and slow, gentle licks. You squeezed your shut, whimpered and tugged his head closer, your skin heating to his touch.

“More?” He asked as his mouth hovered over a hardened tip.

“Yes.”

He wrapped his lips around your breast, drawing it into the wet heat of his mouth. Your thighs instinctively tightened against his sides as pleasure coursed through you, your core aching with need.

He trailed downward, pausing to swirl his tongue around your navel in teasing circles. Your stomach tensed as a shaky whimper escaped your lips, making him smile against your skin.

He slid your bottoms down your legs, tossing it on the floor. Once exposed before him, he positioned your knees over his shoulders. Cupping beneath you with both hands, he lifted you to his waiting mouth. His nose pressed against the apex of your thighs as he drew his tongue slowly along your sensitive flesh. Your muscles went slack against the sheets, all traces of tension melting away.

He continued lavishing attention on your sensitive folds, drawing desperate sounds from your throat. His tongue circled your center before he wrapped his lips around it, applying light suction that made you instinctively press your legs together. His firm grip kept you spread open, completely at his mercy.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them perfectly, making you groan and buck against his touch. You chased the sensation as he alternated between feather-light flicks of his tongue and steady strokes. Your pulse thrummed, your core tightening as you edged closer to your peak.

You exhaled sharply as your orgasm took hold, a lingering moan escaped your lips. Your thighs trembled while he slowed his fingers to draw out your pleasure, punctuating it with gentle laps against your swollen bud.

He shifted carefully from under your wobbly legs and reached over his nightstand.

While he busied himself with the condom wrapper, you seized an opportunity—sitting up and undoing his pants, pulling his boxers down until his hard length sprang free. Your mouth watered when you took his cock in your hand, pumping slowly, before lowering your lips to suck on the tip. You looked up to see him staring down at you, slack-jawed while you took him in deeper.

He craned his neck, watching your head bob up and down. When you hollowed your cheeks, he exhaled sharply, eyes squeezing shut.

His breathing became ragged, one hand on your nape while he kept the other tightly fisted on his side to maintain some semblance of control. You thrust him into your mouth repeatedly, working him fast and deep, his flesh silky against your tongue. The friction from your quickening strokes and his responding groans of appreciation sent waves of arousal through you both.

Unable to stand it any longer, when you pulled up, he broke from your hold with a wet pop.

Your feigned disappointment makes him chuckle. “I’m not coming that way,” he tutted. Cupping your chin, he gives you a chaste kiss.

You watch eagerly as he sheathes himself with a condom, then nudges your legs wider to guide his length to your entrance.

Your eyes fluttered as he eased in the first inch. He let your body set the pace, patiently waiting as your muscles stretched to accommodate him.

Peering upward, you found him flushed and bright-eyed, a sheen of sweat dotting his brow as he sank deeper with achingly slow precision. He cupped your head, holding you still while he eased down to the hilt.

Lifting his hips, he withdrew completely before sinking back in—still slow but purposeful. Your inner walls constricted, eliciting deep groans from you both. He gritted his teeth, fighting against the urge to fuck you without restraint—though you wouldn’t mind if he did.

He pressed his chest to yours and you’re mesmerized by the raw pleasure etched across his features—each furrow of his brow, every sigh that escaped from his parted lips with each downward stroke pushed you closer to the edge.

“I don’t know if I can last long. You feel...fucking amazing.” He thrust at a steady pace while peppering soft kisses along your neck.

You moaned as he sank deeper, your fingers gripping his ass while grinding your hips against him.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” he said with a laugh, pausing his movements.

“I fail to see the problem there,” you say with a raised eyebrow, throwing his earlier cheeky remark back at him. “You can go harder. I can take it.”

He narrowed his eyes, then dipped down to playfully nip at your lower lip. Suddenly, you felt empty, realizing that he’d pulled out.

Before you could protest, you were flipped on all fours, his knees spreading you wider for him.

The pounding in your clit and the needy clenching of your empty cunt drove you insane, even more when he stroked your wet folds teasingly.

Bending over you, he gasped in your ear, “Want me to fuck you hard, huh?”

“Yes, please…” you begged him.

He didn’t need any more encouragement. Soon enough, he pushed back inside you, your walls clenching and drawing him deeper.

Pressing your cheek to the mattress, you angled your hips higher to meet each thrust. Your eagerness spurred his own primal need to come. He pounded into you, tears stinging your eyes from raw pleasure. Each slam of his hips delivered exactly what you’d begged for—over and over again.

Your core tensed as he thrust forward, his movements steady and rough. His breath came in harsh pants, struggling to maintain control with each deep plunge.

You reached between your legs to rub your pulsing clit, until your last shred of control dissipated.

Just like that, you shattered under him on a breathy cry, coming harder than the first time.

You were just coming down from your high when he rolled you on your back again.

He hovered over you, slotting himself between your legs. His cock parted your folds, and with how wet you were, he slid right in. Even though your core still hummed with the remnants of your orgasm, your want began to build again as soon as his lips found yours.

Suddenly, you didn’t mind the slower pace. Every stroke of his tongue in your mouth turned you on more than the slide of his cock.

Completely consumed by desire, your mouths and bodies undulated, moans and cries of pleasure echoing through his bedroom walls.

His thrusts then became more urgent, more ragged; giving up all control. He quickened his last few drives, sending him over the edge.

He grunted and held himself deep in you, pulsing with each wave of his climax washing over him. His fingers dug into your flesh—sure to leave bruises tomorrow—before he collapsed on top of you, joining you in your aftermath.

*******

The morning peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the rumpled sheets on Hansol’s bed. You stirred, stretching a hand out across—only to find the space empty. The sound of the front door shutting caught your attention, followed shortly by soft music drifting from somewhere in the apartment. Curiosity pulled you out of bed.

You found your clothes and padded your way to the kitchen, where Hansol was arranging breakfast.

“Morning,” you greeted him quietly.

He turned around, a warm smile spreading across his face. “Hey,” he said, sliding a cup of coffee your way, along with some cream and sugar. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I got everything. I also have some tea, if you’re not a coffee person.”

“No, no—I love coffee, thank you,” you said as you settled on a seat by the counter. You reached for the cup and added your cream and sugar. “You didn’t have to do all this.”

“I wanted to,” he replied, rounding the corner to take the seat next to you. He pushed a plate in your direction, piled with still-warm croissants and muffins. “These are really good, if I say so myself. The bakery down the street makes them fresh every day.”

You thanked him again and helped yourself to a pastry. “So…you do this often?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light.

“You mean eat breakfast?”

You laughed softly at his remark, then clarified, “No. I mean—invite strangers to your place, play them records…sweep them off their feet?”

Suddenly flustered, he shook his head. “Never. I don’t really do this kind of thing. But for some reason, last night felt...different.” His eyes met yours in earnest. “Different in a good way,” he added softly.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup, feeling a flutter in your chest at his response.

The record player spun quietly in the background, filling the comfortable silence between you.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks slowly.

“No, why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you’d like to stay a little longer. Or if not, maybe we could go on a proper date sometime—one that doesn’t start with a record and end with our clothes on my floor?”

He watched as you took a slow sip of your coffee. A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you considered his offer. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

His whole face lit up. “Yeah?”

You nod.

“Great,” he said, with a quiet enthusiasm that made you feel like you just made his entire day.

“Although—I would like to go home for a bit and freshen up, maybe grab a change of clothes.” You gestured at your outfit from the night before. You weren’t exactly dressed for a full day out. “But after that, I’m all yours for whatever you have in mind?”

“Oh, of course! I can drive you home whenever you’re ready. There’s no rush,” he offered.

You nodded and smiled, already feeling excited about the possibilities the day might hold.

“Also, just so you know—”

He glanced up from his coffee cup, curious.

“I don’t mind doing the rest of the stuff after, too. You know, if you’re up to it,” you said casually.

He gave you a knowing smile before he took a sip. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

Thank you for reading!

Interaction/feedback is appreciated but *not* required. But just in case you feel comfortable enough to comment or just say hello, my inbox 📩 is open 💜💎

[bittertasteofhoney]

Good Day Sunshine | Ch. 1

Seems Like Years Since It's Been Here

Summary: You’re fully immersed in your sunny life in Jackson when a certain Miller brother’s harsh nature cracks your bright demeanor.

|| angst, jackson!joel, jackson!tommy, this will be a slooooooowwww burn, joel being a bit of a butthole ||

Notes: My first time ever posting on tumblr so please be kind! Also if this isn’t your thing, feel free to keep exploring. :) I had to put my brain rot somewhere. This idea would not leave me alone. 

The characters, names and characterizations belong to HBO Max and The Last of Us franchise. This work is my creative property and aside of re-blogs and shares, I do not give permission to share or copy my work without permission or consent.

The sun burns your back in a way that translates to a hard day’s work. Your knees ache and you are elbow-deep in soil, but your cheeks also hurt from grinning with your co-workers. Being a part of the gardening crew in Jackson wasn’t an easy task but in your opinion, it was one of the most gratifying. 

Everyone had their talents. Some were good with their hands in the way that saw wood transformed into reinforced gates for the town or furniture to welcome a newbie home. Others were the brains behind the operation, making sure the cogs in the great machine that was Jackson were well-oiled and plentiful, to not only make sure everyone was safe but they had room to thrive and help the town in turn. 

Within the garden, you got to witness the beauty of the deep soil nurturing the seeds and growing the food that kept the town going. In tandem with the farmers, you made sure each citizen of Jackson went to bed with a stomach filled with wholesome food. 

It was life complete with such harmony that it was easy to forget what lurked beyond the gates. You rarely ever ventured out thanks to your steady position in the rows of produce. There were times where you wished you could be of more help but the days of prowling through the woods with a gun clutched in your hand were thankfully behind you. 

Life existed before Jackson but you were only interested in keeping your sights on your future here. 

You stand, bracing your hands on your hips as you stretch out your legs and back from hours spent knelt over weeding and clipping. 

“You goin’ to check the inventory?” Your head snaps to your coworker, Roberta, who was also standing for a stretch break. Her bright, red hair shining under the midday sun and her clothes equally speckled with dirt. You flash her one of your well-known smiles and give her a small shake of the head. 

“No. Actually, I'm going to check to see if that welcome box got picked up before I grab lunch for everyone.” She gives you a nod of her head and continues twisting from side to side to stretch out her joints. You lean down to grab the mason jar you keep near you during the day to stay hydrated and head to the greenhouse. 

You pass by rows of your other coworkers working through their to-do list under the Wyoming sun, waving and smiling as you pass. 

Your nickname, Sunshine, was well-earned throughout town. You didn’t realize it but after a year or two living here, you became known not by your overall appearance or bright personality but the thousand-watt smile you always flashed towards people, friends or strangers. Like everyone in Jackson knew, life past the gates was harsh beyond words. In your mind, a smile could go a long way if someone was struggling with memories from life before or if they were still recovering from those monstrous memories.

However, your smile never seemed to work on a certain Miller brother, recently returned from an seemingly impromptu trip outside Jackson. He left just as fast as he came and the most you were able to see of him was a glimpse of a tense conversation between him and his brother Tommy, Maria and the little girl Ellie in the mess hall before he and Ellie were gone again the next day.

When the pair returned, they kept close to one another, leaving little for any outside introductions. Eventually, Ellie befriended one of the local girls and in turn, settled into the younger Jackson population. Meanwhile, Joel kept close to Tommy and Maria. You occasionally bumped into him around town, while walking to work or at the Tipsy Bison. Like clockwork, you always flashed him a smile but in turn rarely got anything more than a grimace and if you were lucky, a grunt. Those always turned out to be good days. 

Despite how many smiles you flashed at him, knocks on his front door and reminders to Tommy, neither Joel nor Ellie ever came to pick up their welcome produce box. To make the transition into Jackson life simpler, your team always curated a box filled with the season’s fresh veggies and fruits, a selection of canned spreads, a baked good or two and coffee. 

Jackson’s citizens picked up their weekly rations like clockwork and ate a majority of their meals at the mess hall. These boxes and weekly rations made it easy to make breakfast at home, have nutritious snacks on hand and host the occasional gathering at one’s own home. Joel however, took it upon himself to not even bother with stocking up the home and instead make the mess hall his and Ellie’s only food destination.

You couldn’t blame them really. It was convenient and there was always friendly conversation to be had but all the same. Their welcome box was starting to wilt.

You step into the greenhouse and spot the cardboard box sitting next to the inventory station. Dropping your mason jar in the communal sink, you pick up the box and head up the road towards the direction of the Miller house. The walk was on the long side but you welcome the feeling of the breeze and a chance to move more than from one row of tomatoes to the next. You spot a patch of wildflowers and decide to pluck them to add a little life to the box.

You spot their crooked mailbox and walk up the path, dropping the box on their stoop before knocking on the door. After a few minutes of polite tapping, you realize no one is home. You could drop the box on the stoop and head to the mess hall but you want to make sure they knew how the town’s ration system worked and you couldn’t trust Tommy to explain it truthfully. That man will flash a wink and smile any day of the week if it means he can snag a little extra of anything to surprise Maria with. It usually worked too. It was hard saying no to the town’s resident hero and handyman. 

You shake your head to yourself and lift the box again to head into the main part of town to hit up the mess hall for sandwiches for your crew. A few minutes of smiles and neighborly waves later, you enter the bustling building filled to the brim thanks to the lunchtime hour. 

You step inside almost tripping over a gaggle of your neighbor Lisa’s kids playing near the entrance. You smile off the almost misstep and continue inside, spotting the serving station. You weave around a few tables almost reaching the counter when you hear a familiar booming laugh. You smirk, knowing that goofing cadence anywhere. Tommy Miller. 

Your eyes scan the room until you see the mop of curly, black waves and next to him, a shorter set of grayer waves. Bingo. Smiling to yourself, you redirect your path up to their table, slowing down when you catch a piece of their conversation. Joel’s back was to you and Tommy was too busy frowning at his brother to notice your slow approach. Both were clothed in dusty plaids and denim, matching the overall town population.

“Oh, c’mon Joel. Stop being so hard. All you gotta do is pick up the damn box and get on with your day. Stop making work for everyone else.” You see the back of Joel’s head snap up, previously fixated on the plate in front of him.

“I ain’t making work. It’s plenty easy grabbin’ food here throughout the day and plus it saves me from Little Miss Sunshine.” You freeze about a table’s length away from them. 

Jesse, one of the town's younger patrolmen notices you pause next to him and he half turns to you, cracking a crooked smile. You don’t notice him until you feel a slight tug on your work shorts. You frown down at him, still listening.

Tommy groans in annoyance. “Really? Of course you’d have a problem with the sweetest girl in town.”

“I don’t have a problem. I just don’t feel like wastin’ my time on idle small talk is all. There’s no point.”

“She’s just bein’ nice, Joel. Can’t really blame her.” You can almost feel Joel’s eyes narrowing at his brother.

“I ain’t got time to spend losing brain cells to listen to some airhead talk. Don’t worry. I’ll send Ellie to pick it up.” You see Tommy scrunch his eyebrows at Joel, half incredulous and half pissed.

“Really? And she’ll pick up your weekly rations too? Scared Sunshine’ll flash you a smile and you’ll fall-” 

You don’t wait to hear the rest. You take a deep breath and finally turn towards Jesse and hold out the box to him. “Mind handing that over to Joel for me?” You give him a weak, watery smile. “I gotta grab food for the crew and he seems a bit tied up.” 

Jesse nods at you confused and replies, “‘Course.”

You scurry off to the counter to quickly grab a set of sandwiches before beelining for the exit, counting to twenty in your head to keep the tears at bay. Airhead. You shake your head to propel the thought momentarily away while you walk outside. 

Meanwhile, Jesse walks up to the table and deposits the produce box in front of Joel. The older Miller peers down at the arrangement of goods in confusion and looks up at Tommy who passes the look to Jesse. The younger boy shrugs and motions to your hurrying form. “She asked me to drop it. Said y’all looked busy.”

Tommy’s eyes catch a glimpse of you and he’s quick to notice your rushed steps.“Shit. She hear anythin’?” The only response the two brothers get to Tommy’s question is the narrowed look Jesse gives Joel. 

Joel hangs his head muttering under his breath before swinging his leg over the bench, abandoning the harsh look his brother was pointing towards him and the box of good intentions. He takes quick strides to the exit, hoping to catch you before you get too far down the street but when he steps back into the sunlight, you’re long gone down a side street he has yet to discover.  

Next Chapter.

[saphig-iawn]

Milking Her Mind Away

Since playing with her body and entwining it in my ribbons, a doll wanted to explore hypnosis with me further.

She was so inspired by so many things that we ended up having quite a list of things to possibly do, and that list is continuing to grow.

But she did decide on something, inspired by another session I did with a doll of mine, cow girl transformation.

She prepared a little outfit, a cow girl bikini stop with cow print armlets, and a cute black skirt. She had cute little cow ears and horns, and a beautiful cow print collar complete with bell.

That was when inspiration struck.

My spells are things that are woven, and they can find purchase in more places than someone's mind.

I said to the doll that I was going to weave this spell into the collar.

That the moment she feels the clasp on the buckle close-

THRUM

A deep arousal will bloom inside her, and an inescapable pressure begins to build within her chest.

Then she realises that this arousal is unlike anything else, its deep, its primal, its animalistic.

Its an arousal that has no real word to describe it because the animals that feel this deep need have no words to use.

It is just there and hungry and needing and wanting

And there it was again.

The look on the doll's face that I've come to adore.

The look of realising the power of my spell and that the point of no return is rapidly diminishing in the rearview mirror of her mind.

Perhaps when I turn her into a statue or a portrait I'll have her face held in this expression.

But the dam of self restraint within her is creaking, its groans felt deep in her bones. It can't be ignored, and it won't be. Animals operate in impulse after all. A stimulus causing an unstoppable domino run.

Her eyes darted about in the middle distance, unfocused. She's not animal, she's a person, she shouldn't be feeling this in such a raw way, but the mental gymnastics did precious little to answer why she had these basest urges ravaging her mind and her body.

Her breath was quicking, her hands were grasping and pawing needily.

She felt a precipice approaching but her words were beginning to melt in her mind. She would try to snatch something, anything to say but the words crumbled into letters and the letters into sand that fell between her fingers.

But my spell gave her something to say, something succinct, something perfect as the precipice was at her doorstep.

I could see what needed to happen dawning in her eyes, but her mind wouldn't have said it so eloquently, nor using any words because her mind only offered one thing...

To moo...

Her mind became a passanger as the cow within her began to take control, the performance of her humanity falling off her skin like satin.

Gripping her at her chest she finally mooed.

She bucked and arched in the beauty of its simple power.

She clawed at her skirt and top to start milking.

There was no mistaking that was what she was doing. All of those pesky words were now dripping out of her udders, so she couldn't even know the words for getting off.

Every stroke extracted a moo from her heart. Every moo made the arousal deeper and ravenous.

What was so beautiful was seeing her as she was on all fours milking herself.

You could see those little moments where her personality would try and shine through, like she'd spot the camera and pull a sexy face, but then her eyes would glaze over and the tongue she held out in cheekiness would hang loose as she milked just that little bit harder.

Slowly, those flashes of her would soften and wane until she was just a mindless cow, mooing and milking.

She made such a sweet batch of milk for me, and the poor thing was so spent she was barely able to hold herself up afterward.

We wound down our session with a little dollification, helping her roiling mind calm into stillness as I tended to her body.

While I adored her mindless cow girl face, seeing her so poised and focused, like a freshly sharpened blade was exquisite.

Yes-

I think I know what I'm going to do with her next.

She will look so pretty in porcelain.

(This writing is about a real hypnosis session with real hypnosis and real people. If you would like to see more writing like this, then please support me over at https://ko-fi.com/saphig, where you can also commission 1-on-1 hypnosis sessions and have your own piece of writing just like this!)

[elliespassagerprincess]

ellie x reader who are dating and reader is doing her makeup while sitting in ellie’s lap and it’s all cute and fluffy and sweet???

Headcannons: simp!ellie williams x reader

masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

☆ Ellie always pulls you into her lap the second you pick up your makeup bag.

☆ She nuzzles into your neck like a clingy cat while you’re trying to blend foundation.

☆ “You’re so pretty it actually hurts,” she mutters against your shoulder.

☆ Her hands never stay still — they’re either around your waist or tracing slow circles on your thighs.

☆ She watches you do your eyeliner like it’s a live performance.

☆ “Can I kiss you now? Wait, will I mess up your lipstick? Damn it.”

☆ Ellie offers to hold your mirror, just so you’ll look at her more.

☆ She steals kisses in between products — always careful not to smudge anything.

☆ “Babe, don’t move. I’m committing this to memory.”

☆ You’re halfway through applying mascara when you feel her squeezing your waist tighter.

☆ Ellie gets pouty if you start your makeup without calling her over first.

☆ “I’m your makeup chair now. No returns.”

☆ She takes photos of you mid-process because she loves every stage.

☆ “You’re hot with half an eyebrow done. That’s talent.”

☆ Ellie keeps kissing the back of your neck and whispering compliments.

☆ She gets genuinely offended when you say you're "just doing a light look."

☆ “You’re not even trying and you look better than anyone ever has.”

☆ She tucks her chin on your shoulder and watches you in the mirror.

☆ “God, look at you,” she says for the tenth time in five minutes.

☆ If your brush drops, Ellie grabs it immediately like your personal assistant.

☆ Ellie insists she can do your makeup one day, just to be close to your face.

☆ She acts like your biggest fan and cheerleader while you do your look.

☆ “If I ever lose you I’ll die, just so you know.”

☆ She doodles hearts with your eyeliner on the mirror when you’re not looking.

☆ Ellie knows all your favorite products by name and shade.

☆ “Wait, don’t start without me!” when she hears the makeup bag unzip.

☆ She likes when you use her thighs as your table.

☆ Ellie traces the curve of your cheek with one finger while you apply blush.

☆ “You don’t need any of this, but damn it’s hot watching you do it.”

☆ She holds her breath while you do winged liner like it’s a high-stakes operation.

☆ Ellie’s proudest moment was the first time you let her apply your lip gloss.

☆ She gives a dramatic gasp every time you finish your look. “ART. LITERAL ART.”

☆ “Can I be your next canvas?”

☆ She takes pictures of your vanity setup because “a goddess deserves an altar.”

☆ Ellie keeps one of your used makeup wipes because “it smells like you.”

☆ She rubs your back absentmindedly while you blend concealer.

☆ “You have no idea how hot you are, huh? Let me remind you every second.”

☆ Ellie talks about your highlight like it’s a scientific phenomenon.

☆ She gets super jealous when someone else compliments your look. “I said it first, okay?”

☆ Ellie gets genuinely emotional watching you feel confident in your skin.

☆ Ellie fake pouts when you won't let her kiss you because you're not done yet.

☆ “If I mess up your lip liner I’ll cry,” she says before kissing you anyway.

☆ She refers to your face as her “favorite view.”

☆ Ellie has a playlist called “Makeup in My Lap” just for these moments.

☆ She insists her hoodie is the only one you’re allowed to wear while doing makeup.

☆ “Do you even understand what you do to me when you sit like this?”

☆ She whispers how lucky she is the entire time.

☆ Ellie always tries to sneak her fingers under your shirt while you’re distracted.

☆ She lets you use her lap for hours even if her legs go numb.

☆ “I’ll be your chair forever. Just don’t stop doing this.”

☆ She brags about how she got to watch the transformation happen in real time.

☆ Ellie posts mirror selfies of you two with “my muse” in the caption.

☆ If someone asks why you’re glowing, Ellie says, “It’s me. I’m the reason.”

☆ She gently removes your makeup for you at night, smiling the whole time.

☆ Ellie buys you makeup organizers even though you already have enough.

☆ “You looked like an angel in my lap. Not even being dramatic.”

☆ She reenacts your whole routine with exaggerated impressions just to make you laugh.

☆ Ellie keeps your favorite lip balm in her jacket “just in case.”

☆ “Do your makeup on me again tomorrow. I’ll cancel all my plans.”

☆ She watches GRWMs with you and pretends to understand the terminology.

☆ Ellie tells strangers “my girl’s better at eyeliner than anyone else alive.”

☆ She tries to learn all the steps just to feel closer to you.

☆ Ellie talks to your reflection in the mirror. “She’s perfect, huh?”

☆ “I want to be reincarnated as your beauty blender.”

☆ She once got aroused just watching you blend your foundation.

☆ Ellie memorized your makeup scent and goes breathless when she smells it anywhere else.

☆ “If loving you while you do makeup is wrong, I don’t wanna be right.”

☆ She always gets quiet and soft-spoken during these moments — completely in awe.

☆ Ellie says she’d let you contour her whole face if it meant you’d sit on her again.

☆ She ends every makeup lap session with: “You're art. And I’m the luckiest bitch alive.”

[lichtluxx]

A guide to demonolatry

What is demonolatry?

Modern Demonolatry is a polytheistic religion, focusing on the worship and cult of demons, both adepts and students of the Left Hand can adopt it in two ways, one through a more theistic view and another more practical and modern view. Demons are spirits with a great degree of wisdom that the magician can access their energies, the adept can choose to worship them, or just work with the energies by performing ceremonial rituals.

In Demonolatry, we invoke them without trapping them in magic circles - like in goetia - because we are similar to them and like us, they deserve their freedom and autonomy.

As described by S. Connolly on her book: The complete guide of demonolatry: "A DEITY IS COMPOSED OF MATTER. WE WORSHIP (WORK WITH) THIS "MATTER". THROUGH PRAYER, WE GIVE IT FORM AND POSITIVE ENERGY. IN TURN, IT WILL RETURN THE FAVOR."

In other words, we work with and honor demons to discover our true potential as imperfect but divine beings bound to a physical plane of existence. They do not control or harm us, we control ourselves, we remain our own person as we worship them.

WHAT ARE DEMONS?

Demons/daemon = spirit of knowledge and wisdom, a devil in Christian mythology, daemon derives from daimon which means full of wisdom, divine power, the word is of Greek origin. These deities were worshipped in the pre-Christian (pagan) era and religions, many entities of paganism, Roman, Greek, Egyptian pantheons were classified as demons by the Christian church. We can say that these spirits are great teachers, ancient gods.

CATEGORIES OF DEMONOLATRY

First let's understand what demonolatry and demonology mean, just so you don't get confused.

Demonology = the study and cataloging of demons.

Demonololatry = the worship of demons and/or the practice of ritual magic with the help of entities known as demons.

Demonolators = those who practice demonolatry in the form of worship or practice magic.

Theistic Demonolatry: they see demons as real entities, they are gods of the past, ancient gods, they are rulers of the world, like Satan, the whole, the universe.

Modern Demonolatry: In this current, demons are forces of elemental energies that help with spiritual self-knowledge and magical operations. They personify an emotion, an element or an idea. Demonolatry is an individual system, each follower has their beliefs regarding demons, if you work with demons you are a demonolator.

As pointed out before, many entities considered "demons" were ancient gods that were demonized by Christianity, with this image perpetuated for so long that many people still believe that they are, in fact, just demons.

An example of this would be the Canaanite god Baal, whose origins are distorted but also complex. Analysis of archaeological and epigraphic artifacts points to Upper Mesopotamia, associating him with the Gods of "time." Specifically, his origins date back to Aleppo, considered the motherland of the God Hadu. During the Middle and Late Bronze Age, the cult of Hadu expanded throughout the Levant. In Lower Mesopotamia, he was known under the names Haddu, Hadda, Hadad, Addu, and Adad. On the Syro-Palestinian coast, in the middle of the second millennium BCE, Hadu was initially worshiped with the epithet "Baal" (Baal-Hadu). Over time, this epithet replaced the original name, transforming Hadu into the "new" God Baal.

As one can presume, Baal lost his origin and was turned into one of the demons in the Ars Goetia, described as the King of the East, Lord of storm and fertility.

He has a very fascinating origin, but let's get back to the topic we were discussing!

ENNS

Enns are magical invocations designed to summon demonic spirits. No one knows what language the Enns come from - some have said that they were given to us by a demon. They were first considered demonic enns in the late 16th century by the demonolator Alexander Willit. Enns are unique in that they appear in several family grimoires from different geographic locations and always remain the same.

You can chant the enn while you meditate so you and the demon can connect to each other, you can use it as a form of flattery. There's many ways one can use it.

SIGILS OF DEMONS

Sigils are symbols created for a specific magical purpose.

In Demonolatry, sigils are representations of demonic entities. Sigils allow the practitioner to focus on the demonic entity, connect with the demon's energy, and also simply honor the demon. They are tools used to help the practitioner summon a Demonic Entity.

THE NINE DIVINITIES

The nine deities, according to Richard Dukante, are the demons of the fundamental energy of the universe, of existence and balance. These energies are: fire, earth, air, water, positive polarity (health), negative polarity (destruction), life and death. All these energies together form Satan (the Whole), but individually, they are distinct demons.

These demons are:

Fire – Flereous

Earth ��� Belial

Air – Lucifer

Water – Leviathan

Health – Verrine

Destruction – Amducious

Life – Unsere

Death – Euronymous

HOW TO WORK THEM / TYPES OF OFFERINGS

In Demonolatry, offerings depend on the purpose and the demon you are working with. You can offer blood, as it contains our vital energy, or you can offer sexual fluids, an hour of study about a demon, or the disclosure of their seal and names.

In Demonolatry, the magician does not use a triangle or a circle of protection, because contact with these energies (demons) will not be aggressive or hostile, and there is no need for banishments and threats. Here, the magician and the entity work in partnership. You can light the candle and invite them to come to you, and many times, they will come. Research about them and make a sincere offering as a thank you for their time and for them coming to your ritual.

What's the difference between Satanism and demonolatry?

The word and its derivation “Satanist” appeared for the first time in French and English in the sixteenth century during the European Wars of Religion. In publications from this period, Roman Catholic authors directed it against Protestant Christians, and vice versa, while both applied the epithet to Anabaptists.

Their polemical use of the term did not necessarily mean that they thought their religious counterparts were self-consciously and secretly worshipping the devil — although mutual abuse might occasionally spill over into such allegations, particularly with regard to the Anabaptists — but rather that Roman Catholic veneration for “graven images” or Protestant adherence to “heresy” implied being a fellow traveler on Satan’s bandwagon. In the early nineteenth century, the terms “Satanist” and “Satanism” acquired even broader meanings and came to designate a person or thing with a “Satanic character,” a person or thing inherently evil or wicked.

Only toward the end of the nineteenth century did the word “Satanism” come to hold the significance that it still has, for historians of religion, B-film directors, and the general public alike, namely, as the intentional and explicit worship of Satan. This is not to say that the concepts and practices embodied in this word did not exist prior to that time.

According to Children of Lucifer: The origins of modern religious Satanism - Ruben Van Luikj.

Satanism as we know now is divided into two: theistic Satanism and atheistic Satanism. Let's delve a little into how differente they are now.

Modern Satanism has its roots in the 20th century, with figures such as Anton LaVey, founder of the Church of Satan in 1966, and writer of the Satanic Bible. LaVey also structured his own commandments, which are: I - You shall love and hate with equal intensity.

II - You shall love yourself above all else.

III - You shall love others as they love you.

IV - You shall know yourself.

V - You shall always seek material and spiritual improvement.

VI - You shall not use Satan's name for wrongful purposes.

VII - You shall respect and protect children and animals.

VIII - You shall live every second as if it were your last.

IX - You shall walk your own path but respect the path of others.

X - You shall give your best in everything you do

LaVeyan Satanism, for example, is more of an atheistic philosophy that uses the figure of Satan as a symbol of rebellion, individualism, and skepticism. There is no belief in literal demons or deities. Theistic Satanism, though, involves belief in Satan or demons as real entities and may include worship practices similar to Demonolatry.

In LaVeyan Satanism, practices include symbolic rituals, ritual magic, and the celebration of values such as hedonism and rational selfishness. In Theistic Satanism, practices may include worship, invocations, and offerings to Satan or demons.

Demonolatry involves the worship of demons as deities, and is more devotional and spiritual. LaVeyan Satanism does not believe in literal demons, and focuses more on an atheistic philosophy focused on individualism and skepticism, while Theistic Satanism may involve the belief in Satan or demons as real entities.

What's the difference between Goetia and demonolatry?

Luciferian Goetia is a modern evolution of Solomonic Goetia, adapting ancient practices to a more contemporary philosophy. It emphasizes collaboration and learning from demons, viewing them as spiritual mentors or allies. The approach is more enlightened and less authoritarian, focusing on spiritual growth and self-knowledge. This branch uses rituals, sigils, and invocations, but with an intention of partnership and mutual respect rather than control or domination.

Solomonic Goetia has its roots in ancient texts such as the "Lemegeton" or "The Lesser Key of Solomon". It is a traditional and well-structured practice. It involves the evocation and control of demons through detailed and authoritative rituals. The practitioner seeks to dominate and command these entities to obtain benefits or perform specific tasks. Its practices include the creation of magic circles, the use of sigils and the performance of complex rituals to evoke and control demons. The focus is on controlling and dominating demons to achieve specific goals, such as power, knowledge or the accomplishment of tasks.

Demonolatry = Veneration and worship of demons as deities.

Luciferian Goetia = Collaboration and learning with demons as mentors.

Solomonic Goetia = Control and domination of demons to obtain benefits.

Each of these practices offers a unique path for those seeking to interact with demonic entities, but with different philosophies, methods, and goals.

A/n: there was so much info i could write about, but i think this went really well. If I notices that I missed an important detail, I may do a part 2. Hopefully I was able to shed some light on this topic!

[chow0w]

(Re)Designing a winglet! - part 1/7

Hello my beautiful blog readers, happy Wednesday!

While going through my procreate files, I found a jumpscare of an old drawing I made from a winglet I created in 2020. Looking at your old artwork is never fun, but it did give a good idea: redesigning all of these characters! Now that I've improved a lot, it will be cool to see how I can upgrade these designs and characters. I don't remember much about them, so I'm going in as blind as you!

For any artists following my work, these weekday posts are going to be a great time for me to explore my process as a designer/writer + the tricks I use to transform characters!

I REALLY do not want to hear a word about this old art. I can't believe I'm posting it. yes in hindsight it's not that bad but like omg. Sorry about the image quality throughout this post - a lot of these are cropped photos so they're very blurry.

To start off, here's the old character I want to redesign first!

I literally only have his name to go off, but based on first impression this guy seems annoying. He's giving me the energy of someone with high ego and low grades, and his name (Ficus) references Figs. The first thing we should do is fix his headshot, and try to emulate the qualities we know about already!

Identifying key features is important: his frills, eyebrows, smile and horns stood out to me the most because they seem to be what show his personality.

This is so much better! I amplified the key features we just found, and used my knowledge of shape to create consistency in his design. Ficus' expression also got an upgrade, and he looks much more natural in this mid-conversation pose. He reminds me a lot of that cocky snake from the Sahara (If anyone watched that as a kid).

Reading into the name, figs can often symbolize new growth or development - which gives me a lot of ideas about this character! Maybe Ficus is a dragon who starts the story as cocky/self-righteous, but unlearns his bad habits and becomes a more enjoyable person. Maybe he doesn't. Maybe he just gets worse as the story goes along - he's proven right one time and turns into an even more insufferable classmate.

It's important to think about group dynamics when creating a character, especially if they operate in a group setting. Does Ficus get along with his classmates? Do they like him? Do they know how to cooperate, and how does that impact their performance in times of crisis? I would argue that group dynamics can be one of the most influential aspects of a story: they don't just dictate the plot, but the tone of your story and how your audience reacts.

Here's my complete sketchpage for Ficus! I added a full body doodle so we could get a better reference of how he looks, as well as a small sketch of him lounging in a hammock and talking about how great he is. I'm going to leave this uncolored for now, but I might come back to it later!

--

Thank you so much my returning readers + all of you who made it this far! I love talking about art and WoF so this really is a win-win for me. To anyone wondering about the redesigns, those are still happening! I plan on releasing them over the weekend as larger batches, so these conversation posts are just here to fill my blog during the work week. I always love hearing what you guys think of my designs, so don't hesitate to let me know! As always, my askbox is open to redesign requests + general questions or comments!

( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

[tk-duveraun]

LBH is SO NORMAL About Shen Yuan

Part 1/?

1 (here), 2

Based explicitly on @sunderwight 's idea here

System dialogue modified from the 7seas translation of svsss

-

Everything hurt. Considering the last thing Luo Binghe remembered was metal and glass flying everywhere thanks to a truck t-boning his car, pain everywhere was only to be expected. Less expected was the mobile phone ringing so loud it felt like it was inside his own head. No one should have their mobile in his hospital room. Not since he was taken in by his biological father, who was the very definition of more money than sense.

He opened his eyes a crack to see if he could glare at the phone's owner until they silenced it. The ringing stopped, but his eyes were assaulted by an electric-blue floating window out of some badly CGI-d scifi movie.

He had to blink a few times before his vision was clear enough to read the words.

[Activation Code: "Who wrote this? Knock-off Chat GPT fed only a twelve year old's wet dreams?" System automatically triggered.]

The fu— Luo Binghe's eyes snapped fully open to stare at the screen. Yes, he had been reading the latest update to "Intricate Rituals with my Shixiongdi" while his driver took him to his father's house, but—

[Welcome to the System. This System operates in lie with the design concept "YOU CAN YOU UP, NO CAN NO BB"; we hope to provide you with the best possible experiene. It is our sincere wish that during your time, you can fulfill your desires and, in accordance with your wish, transform a stupid work into a magnifcent, high-quality, first-rate classic. We hope you enjoy.]

My wish? Luo Binghe went cold, then hot, adrenaline flushing through his body. I can finally wife Shen Yuan? He wanted to cry, to scream, but he was still saddled with enough pain that even the adrenaline didn't give him much energy to get up and run off his excitement.

"Ah, Shixiong is awake. Good," a voice came from his right.

Luo Binghe agonizingly turned his head away from the blue screen and saw an older teenager in neat hanfu and a starched apron standing next to him. The teen had a handbound book folded open and was holding a stick of charcoal.

"How is Shixiong feeling?"

"Hurts." Luo Binghe said. His voice was rough and his throat felt like he'd swallowed every shard of glass from his windshield. He tried wiggling his hands and feet and found the movement easy, if excruitiating.

"Mmm, to be expected given the severity of Shixiong's qi deviation." He reached out and took Luo Binghe's wrist. Having his arm moved hurt as much as moving it himself. It felt like being injected with saline to have his meridians checked or whatever the trainee healer was doing. "But Shixiong's system has stablized nicely. One of this shidi's seniors will be by to release you to Qing Jing Peak with the next…" The teen glanced at something outside of the room and finished, "half shichen."

"Thanking Shidi," Luo Binghe croaked. So it was confirmed: he had transmigrated into IRS. Had transmigrated into Shen Yuan's own peak. And as a disciple, if he was the same generation as this kid. Was he part of Shen Yuan's cohort? His heart thumped at the thought.

IRS was an excrutiating mess of will-they, won't-they between the protagonist, Shen Yuan, and his ever-increasing bevy of admirers. It was a mess with character growth and subplots dropped in favor of introducing another man in love with Shen Yuan's poise and genuine goodness. If Luo Binghe was part of Shen Yuan's cohort of disciples, he could cut through ninety percent of the garbage and save his beloved the indignities of countless 'wardrobe malfunctions' and plants with extremely dubious tentacles.

The teen — a Qian Ciao disciple — nodded politely. "Luo-Shixiong would be wise to consult with Shen-shibo before resuming normal cultivation."

A klaxon went off between Luo Binghe's ears even before the blue screen returned to his sight with a merry jingle.

[This system was sucessfully actuvated! Bound Role: Shen Yuna's demonic student, Luo Baixiao. Weapons: Amature Spiritual Cultivation, Demonic Cultivation (locked), Demonic Abilities (locked). Starting S-points: 100.]

Luo Binghe's mind raced with swear words in a rainbow of languages. He finished with an emphatic kurwa.

[You have triggered the System's execution command and have been bound to the Luo Baixiao account. As the plot progresses, various point types will gradually become available. Please ensure that no score falls below zero, or the System will automatically mete out punishment.]

What kind of shit luck. Luo Baixiao was boogie man of the entire second half of IRS, used as a punching bag by Shen Yuan's various suitors to show off. It was stupid, senseless! How was Luo Baixiao so powerful that he never died, yet so weak he was constantly defeated by the man of the week? Why did he start as Shen Yuan's student only to disappear after a few chapters only to return as a villain?

It made no sense!

Luo Binghe — Baixiao now, he supposed — bared his teeth at the empty room. Actually, that was weird. Who did that? Was that a demonic instinct from his new body? He'd have to do some intense examination and introspection when he could move his limbs without wanting to curl on the floor and whimper.

He was supposed to be Shen Yuan's worst nightmare? Well that whole plot could kindly fuck itself. Luo Binghe knew exactly how Shen Yuan's squirrely mind worked and he was going to slot himself irremovably from his shizun's life while the suitors of the week failed in attempt after courting attempt.

[Warning,] the System warned, flashing again before his eyes. [This proposed plan is incredibly dangerous and qualifies as a violation. Please do not attempt or the system will automatically mete out punishment.]

"What do you mean dangerous? Shen Yuan would never hurt one of his disciples, let alone one that made his life easier," Luo Binghe asked inside his mind.

[Currently, you are at the beginner level, and the OOC feature is frozen. You must complete a beginner-level quest to unfreeze it. Before unfreezing, any act in violation of the original Luo Baixiao character settings will result in a deduction of a fixed number of S-Points.]

"You must be joking," Luo Binghe deadpanned. "Disciple Luo appeared in three chapters. I managed the wiki. He didn't have a characterization at this point."

[This System utilizes all resources in defining characters.] Okay, that meant nothing. So it was going to pull characterization out of its ass and hold him to it? [To aid user, multiple reply options will be given during critical dialogue. User may complete side-quests to unlock Luo Baixiao character motivations. For now, review the complementary character sheet.]

Luo Binghe wasn't really much of a gamer, but the character sheet displayed by the System was pretty basic. Strength, endurance, charisma… It also listed the same 'weapons' the System initially told him about. Near the bottom right it said simply: Internally cold and resentful, externally polite and aloof. Thanks, System.

[User is welcome (✿◡‿◡)]

He was going to have another qi deviation.

[cozycottagetarot]

PAC: Your Person's Appearance

What Are Their Vibes & Characteristics?

PILE 1 (Source) | PILE 2 (Source) | PILE 3 (Source)

This was supposed to be a quick reading but idk what happened 🤨. I apologise if it's scattered though I think I saw that every time 😅.

Anyways, this reading covers your person's vibes they give off as well as any notable features about them. As always this reading is for entertainment purposes only. ✨

Version 1 Of This Reading

PAC Reading Masterlist | Paid Readings

PILE 1

Initial Impressions: Dark features, intelligent look, balanced masculine and feminine energies, ambitious, helpful, burnout, (Mount) Vesuvius, mystical, dreamy, starry-eyed, intuitive, regal, physically fit, wish fulfilment, hope, they brighten up the room, a new beginning, secure.

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They have a quiet confidence. Even if they don’t say much of anything, you can sense their self-assuredness. They could be in a position of power career-wise where they oversee others or an operation but I don’t think that it’s something they’re particularly happy about or take lightly. People may think it’s all fun and games for them but actually, it’s quite the opposite. They could actually be quite lonely despite their work. They could have left home and they can’t return to it. They carry a heaviness with them. Working on themselves and levelling up. Focused. Lost in thought. Optimistic. They could exude a sense of hope and magic, just being in their presence may boost your mood. Busy. Moving from one thing to the next. Coffee shop vibes. Proportionate body. Someone new that you’re manifesting. You two could meet at a time of change and transformation in one or both of your lives. If you’re accustomed to unhealthy relationships or drawn to people that aren’t good for you, this is the opposite. They might not even look like they used to. They’ll have a very nice body… you may really like their legs. They may wear clothes that expose a part of their body... particularly their chest. Nurturing energy. I think you may just kind of know or you’ll feel a sense of peace.

Notable Characteristics:

Hair colours are pretty diverse— you’ve got black, red, blonde and grey (or platinum that came to me as well) hair. They could have curly or kinky hair types. The only one that came out for face shapes was square. Their eyes may be hooded or they may have a monolid. They could have a broad or roman shaped nose. When it comes to their mouth. They could have a cupid’s bow and thin lips, straight teeth and they may smirk a lot or their smile looks like a smirk. The last few physical things are they might be on the shorter side or shorter than you and they could have scars or a skin condition (eczema, vitiligo, etc). Their voice may be smooth or animated. Their style could be very aesthetic or vintage and they may wear a lot of formal/business wear. They may come across as quiet/reserved, intelligent and charismatic.

You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 2!

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading

PILE 2

Initial Impressions: Symphony by Clean Bandit feat Zara Larson came to me, Someone you’re destined to meet.. the one who got away or someone who’s unforgettable from day one, dangerous look, security, a strong appearance, protective, fierce, a wish fulfilled, a musician, someone who moves with fluidity, muse, not the knight you expect, a little bit closed off

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They may try to stay under the radar, but I think that may be a little hard… at least when it comes to you. You may need some help with them though, as in getting a relationship started. There’s a wildness to them but it might get them in trouble so they try to tame themselves (I also hear tame their desire for adventure). They may not look like their stable but they are and they worked hard for what they have. I think this person may look focused… a little bit scruffy or dishevelled if they’re a man. I felt like you may be cautious of them but I think that they may also come across as guarded and cautious of others. There’s definitely a sense of maturity to them and wisdom. Highly perceptive. They could have multiple ear piercings. You could meet this person by chance. In one of the previous versions (see the end of your pile’s reading) I think I wrote that you two might meet in a way ‘only the divine could have orchestrated’. I don’t know how to describe it, but it may not be a meeting you could have ever thought to dream of/up. I think of wolves when I think of this person based on the cards as well. They may have a tough exterior, not easily approachable. They’re everything you want whether or not you know or see it at first. They may carry a lot of stress. Actually very passionate and inspiring. A diamond in the rough or a lamp that needs polishing.

Notable Characteristics

Short, curvy (I also remember picking up on husky at one point in a prev version), they could wear glasses but prefer to wear contacts. For hair, you guys have a good set of cards so their hair may be a significant feature. The cards around hair were— wavy, unique cut/style, afro (or puffy hair), salt & pepper, short hair, blonde, grey hair, long hair, and straight hair. For facial hair, it’s either clean-shaven or a beard. Their face shape could be round, square or diamond-shaped. For lips, they could have a cupid’s bow. They could have brown or green eyes or their eye colour may look unique. Their voice could be youthful or higher in pitch or on the opposite end deep. You also got smooth and they could have a foreign accent (whatever that means to you). Lastly, some impressions about this person are they may come across as confident, charismatic, quiet/reserved and professional/polished.

You can check out the discarded versions of this PAC here for any additional insights HOWEVER LOOK AT PILE 1! Discard 1 (all piles) | Discard V.2 (your pile only)

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.

PILE 3

Initial Impressions: Vibes of being a player. Not being from around the same location. Something about their eyes. A rake. Large and in charge. Good with words or a sweet talker. Lively. Someone not to be tied down. Awakening something with you. Happy. Young. Naive. Sociable. Could be from somewhere warm or they could make you warm. Strong. Visually impaired? Intuitive… like they know the "secrets of the universe”. Jewellery may be significant. Wanderer. Hands. Might wear lots of prints. Rings. Marriage material. They could be a risk taker or look like a risk you’re willing to take. They may be quite flamboyant which might resonate a lot if you’re more reserved in how you dress or present yourself to the world. Grey hair. Frustrating. Baby Charli XCX.

Vibes You May Pick Up On:

They might come across as slightly immature and before some of you roll your eyes, immaturity doesn’t always show up as a negative. It could be a playfulness to them that makes you think they haven’t really lived and explored life yet. They may give off the vibe that pursuing them is a risk of some kind on your part. You might feel like you’ve got to be very careful about pursuing them or allowing them to pursue you.

They could look like a social butterfly. An infectious vibe or personality. They may light up the room. For a lot of you, I feel like I’m viewing this person in an educational or work setting and like watching them from afar interact with other people. They could look like a drifter. One dynamic I’m picking up on as well is your person being the type of person willing to pack up and go anywhere on a whim while you may be more cautious and the type to need a plan first. They’ll say ‘runaway with me’ and look at you expectantly while your head and heart battle. They may seem very creative or flamboyant. There’s a sense of home or familiarity too. Not sure how you’re going to get the final cut of this atm, but I definitely picked that up in the first deck I used. “Your person could look familiar to you— it doesn’t necessarily mean that you know them though for half of you I think you could. I think when you see your person you may have that “Have we met before?” moment.”

Physically you may find their hands very attractive. They could be skilled in a profession where they have to use their hands a lot (mainly for crafting I’m getting this scenario) and could either hand you something or demonstrate something where you’re focused on their hands. Very attractive hands lol, this may make you blush. They could look very athletic. Very confident. They may turn your world upside down (in a freeing way I see).

Notable Characteristics

The most notable thing about your person may be their voice. I’ve made some traits/characteristics and the majority of what I got relates to voice. Some traits you’ve got for voice are: soft, smooth, deep, animated (they may speak in a way that paints a picture), youthful/high(er)-pitched voice

Their face shape could be round or oval. They could have wavy/shoulder-length hair or no hair at all. If they wear facial hair, it’d be a beard. Their nose could be upturned or described as aquiline. For eyes, they could be round or have monolids and they may have a unique eye colour. They may have full lips or crooked teeth. Freckles. Tattoos. They may look ethereal or be a boho/laid-back and/or vintage style.

You can check out the discarded version of this pac here for any additional insights.

If you enjoyed this reading check out my other readings here. You can also check out my paid readings as well if you're interested in getting a personalised reading.

[namism]

someone like you | hange zoë

➳ categories: canonverse, commander hange, female queen reader, forbidden love, you are not in love with ymir

➳ word count: 2.7k

➳ summary: What does one do when faced with a romantic encounter with the Queen? For the 14th Commander of the Survey Corps, it borders between eternal punishment and professionalism.

➳ notes: i wrote this a looong time ago and it's lowkey ass, but maybe someone would like it?? let me know if you write your own version and i'd be more than happy to read it!

➳ cross-posted on ao3

When the Survey Corps returned from the operation to reclaim Wall Maria, there were only nine of them left.

One of which was Eren, the Intelligent Titan, the one who could turn into a 15-meter Titan with a small wound that would trigger the transformation. Eren's survival was to be expected. The others, not so much. Apart from Eren, you expected just the usual: Captain Levi, your friends from the 104th Training Corps, Commander Erwin—

Commander Erwin did not survive.

A moment of silence was shared between you and Zackly, who broke the news in private after meeting the remnants of the Survey Corps. You were told that the Commander was temporarily laid to rest somewhere in Shiganshina District until a cleanup crew could be dispatched in the area. As sickening as it was, you stomached the grueling outcomes of the battle and thanked the Walls for sparing your friends of mortal injuries.

Six days after the Survey Corps' return, you and Zackly meet Captain Levi and Hange Zoë, the newly appointed Commander. Zackly deemed it important to send your regards to them, which you had no worries of. If anything, you were elated to do as told.

In a small conference room by Zackly's office, you sit at the head of the table as he sits to your left. The Scouts follow soon afterward, positioning themselves to your right while they help themselves with cups of black tea. Zackly leads the conversation while you listen, deciding it best to keep to yourself rather than to add another voice in their exchange.

Occasionally, you would catch yourself looking at Hange—rather, Commander Hange—for a few seconds too long deemed socially appropriate for the Queen. You have no business looking at the Commander the way you do, as they are nothing more than someone who serves you, but alas, you can't keep lying to yourself.

The heart wants what it wants. At present, your heart wants Commander Hange to have more time to themselves as they recover from the injuries they sustained during the operation. You observe their bruised knuckles, scratched skin, and the fresh bandages that wrap around the left side of their face. When Zackly spoke of Commander Erwin's death and the huge losses of the regiment, he forgot to mention that the Commander's replacement was not in mint condition either. Hange had damaged their eye in an explosion caused by the Colossal Titan's transformation, and even after a few days of healing and regular medical checkups, there seems to be no hope in redeeming their sight.

Zackly asks you a question, to which you respond with a brief answer. You feel the Commander's eyes on you as you speak, innocent eye watching as they listen to your words.

It pleases you to be of importance to the military. Not just anyone can speak with the Commander up close and grab their full attention.

Sipping your tea, a small smile breaks on your lips.

So much for being the Queen.

Your yearning had always been kept at simple glances and courteous greetings with the new Commander, who didn't even know your name until the Scouts discovered your royal lineage. You had developed a liking toward Hange when you shared private conversations about your life in hiding while the Scouts slept soundly in their quarters. In the dead of night, accompanied by a dim candlelight and a warm cup of coffee, you recalled your childhood memories one by one, guided by Hange and their soothing tone.

They called it an interview, but you called it a chat. With Hange, you felt safe. It was a discussion like no other, something that you never had with anyone else, not even Ymir whom you shared plenty of your life stories with.

Hange respected you. They listened to your every word without interruption. Perhaps they only did as such because they ultimately wanted information on the royal family, but you believe otherwise. Hange showed compassion for your tales, and chatting for several nights together brought about a different feeling entirely.

As the 104th's darling, many listened to you in exchange for your attention. It felt sickening at one point. None of it felt genuine. The misery of dealing with that hollowness eventually translated to your attraction toward Hange's appeal. Their ability to listen just because they wanted to made them particularly endearing, so every moment with them soon afterward felt more enjoyable.

To your misfortune, it's a love that could never be. Hange is experienced, occupied, and busy with anything but love. You're of legal age, but Hange is far older. The chances of scoring were low to begin with, and they slimmed down even further when you became Queen.

You shake your head.

No use in crying over it now. Your fate has been determined the moment you wore the crown.

Hange will stay as Commander, and you will stay as Queen.

"You're up."

Upon Zackly's call, you stand up from your throne to begin the commemoration. An army of MPs and Garrison officers stand in rows in the grand hall as the nine brave survivors of the Survey Corps kneel at your presence.

You summon the bearer with a wave of your hand. She emerges with a cushioned box of bolo ties, each one reflecting the wings of freedom on its green casing.

It's a ceremony in the Survey Corps' honor, in the survivors' and casualties' alike. You are to grant each one with a tie of their own as part of the commemoration, and they are to kiss your hand, as tradition calls it.

They are to kiss your hand.

It's nothing new. Your royal hand has been kissed by many others in the past as a courtesy, including the late Commander Erwin, who claimed the first kiss at your coronation. Tradition dictates that your right hand be kissed in favor of any other as it is the same one used in the military salute, while your left remains pure, untouched.

As you stand ahead of the one person you had been dying to interact with, however, you wonder if it would be so bad to bend the rules a bit.

A sly smile forces itself on your lips, but you restrain it with a bite on your tongue. The bearer holds the bolo ties to your height and bows her head. You grab the first tie, one hand on the cord and the other on the green ornament.

As you turn to the Scouts, you observe the new Commander who falls first in line. With one hand on their chest and their head tilted downward, it's difficult to see their face. They appear much healthier than before, their bruises and scratches having healed after two weeks of rest. Their eye injury, however, not so much. They wear fresh bandaging over their head, but you heard from Zackly that their healing has come a long way.

You walk toward Hange. When they sense you in close proximity, they look up momentarily before averting their gaze to the ground.

If it were any other day without hundreds of pairs of eyes watching your every move, you would have grinned with joy. Alas, duty calls for discipline, so you grant Hange their tie and secure it on their collar.

Soon afterward, they tilt their head upward. The Commander reaches for your hand, but you abruptly offer your left.

They glance at you in confusion, but they don't question it. The Commander takes your left hand in theirs, and with a gentle tug, they bring your soft skin to their lips.

Your heart bursts into flames, a shudder passing through your body. Hange kisses your hand longer than expected, which triggers a panicked reaction in your head. When they pull away, you retract your hand under your cloak, the feel of their lips lingering on your hand.

When you grab the next bolo tie, you smile to yourself discreetly.

The ceremony fades to the back of your head like a distant memory as time passes. Before you know it, a few years have passed since then and you have grown more accustomed with the Commander, who oftentimes visits Mitras when they are summoned by Zackly or the court.

Fleeting memories aside, if there was one thing you would remember for the rest of your life, it would be Hange's feathered kiss on your hand. Nothing could erase that from your head; it's been eternally etched onto your memory. When no one is looking and you're left with your deepest thoughts, you catch yourself swiping your hand over the patch of skin that they had kissed. Your longing dies down a bit when you realize how stupid you could be to yearn for someone this much, but your liking for the Commander returns a few days later and it repeats like a never-ending cycle.

But when Zackly tells you of the Survey Corps' expedition to Marley, you find a shimmer of hope in getting over your foolish feelings.

The Scouts are to be sent away from Paradis Island for a month, perhaps longer, to conduct an overseas expedition of some sort on Marleyan grounds. It should give you enough time to forget about the Commander and busy yourself with more important things. Maybe you could tend to the orphanage while they're gone.

Frankly, it upsets you to a degree but it also eases your mind to have some time to yourself without Commander Hange's presence interrupting your healing process every few days. The plan is nothing but clever.

On the day of the Survey Corps' departure, you are invited to the harbor with your entourage. As you wait for the Azumabito engineers to board, you are told to take shelter in a nearby building.

To your surprise, the Commander themselves walk in.

"I was told that you would be here," Hange chirps, a smile dancing on their lips as the door closes behind them.

They look different—almost unrecognizable, but more stunning than ever. A long coat drapes over a tailored brown suit, paired with a crimson vest and a crisp white blouse barely visible beneath the fastened buttons. Atop their head rests a stylish hat, which they remove with a graceful motion, bowing low in a gesture of greeting that feels both formal and unexpectedly personal.

You nod to your escorts and they shuffle out of the room.

"I could have met you outside, Commander," you remark once the door closes, breaking the silence. "Zackly must be nearby. I'll call for him."

"No need." Hange waves a hand dismissively as they approach your seat with purposeful strides. "I ran into him on my way here. Besides, I wanted to say goodbye before we depart."

They wait for you to lend your hand for a kiss, but you don't offer it.

"(Y/N)?"

Your chest tightens. They haven't addressed you as such in so long.

"Your hand?" Hange asks. "What's the matter?"

They step closer. The Commander crouches to level themselves with your hand, trying to find any sign on your face that could hint at your predicament. They're left clueless when you remain unresponsive.

"I suppose I can't force the Queen, but I also can't leave without her order," they joke.

Silence falls between you. Hange looks at you, bewildered. You bravely look back.

"I know."

Their ears perk up.

"Sorry. Will you kiss me now, Commander?"

Hange's nervous laugh breaks the silence. Avoiding your gaze, they look at the ground with quivering irises as they surmise the best response to your request.

"Of course!" they respond, albeit shakily. Gently, they reach for your right hand to kiss it as they curse themselves silently for thinking of any malicious intent behind your statement.

Yet you withdraw your hand to your side, prompting Hange to stop.

"Uh"—they laugh nervously yet again—"may I have your hand?"

No response.

Hange reaches out again. They lay their hand on top of yours.

"What are you doing?" you ask.

"Kissing you?" Hange replies with a questioning tone. Their eyebrows furrow when you gaze at them firmly. You seem unhappy by their gestures and they're unsure why.

Confusion flickers across their face.

Unless...

"You meant something else, didn't you?"

You lower your head, and Hange feels a glint of satisfaction at getting a reaction out of you. Nonetheless, they stay confused. It was a bluff. Hange doesn't actually understand what you want.

"My Queen, if you could give me your hand now, then I can give it to you right after," they press on.

"You would not."

"Yes, I would!"

"Is that so?" you challenge. "I doubt you would want to kiss me like that, Commander."

Hange falls silent. The gears in their head turn slowly as they connect the dots.

Your order was unexpected—so you meant it in that way.

They clear their throat.

"They would have my head for that, no matter whose orders I followed," they say with a resigned edge, voice just above a whisper. Your gaze drops, but their tone softens in understanding. "Still, I think there might be… a way around it."

Hange's calloused hand slowly wraps around your right, and with a gentle motion, they bring your hand to level with their lips. Brown eye locked with yours, you feel their hot breath fan on your skin as they breathe out evenly.

A kiss—that's what Hange wants to do. Anything other than a courtesy kiss on your royal hand and they would be condemned to eternal damnation. Your eyes flit in between their brown eye and your hand, but at the last second, you retract your arm.

"No," you breathe out.

Hange is muddled. They assumed this was an appropriate alternative.

"The left, Commander. Not my right."

You bring your left hand to Hange's lips. Clutching your soft skin, a memory fleets by and they remember the same bewilderment that dawned on them a few years ago.

"I see, my Queen."

They fight back a smirk as they understand the rationale of your actions. Hange is astounded that they had only realized years later.

"My, I feel like a fool for not noticing... Well, do your escorts kiss you farewell on this hand, too?"

You purse your lips, deciding to remain silent.

"They don't, do they?

The Commander brings your hand to their cheek. With a tilt of their head, they caress their face with the back of your hand, smooth skin gliding over theirs.

You exhale shakily.

"No one is allowed to touch the Queen until she initiates," they whisper. "No one is allowed to kiss her beyond the orders of tradition."

They bring the back of your hand to the corner of their lips.

"I'm playing with fire, but I can't seem to stop. Will you stop me?"

Hange's brown eye locks with yours, and for a moment, you imagine the best of outcomes. The Commander follows the Queen's word. A one-word answer would change everything for better or for worse.

You decide swiftly.

"No, I will not."

Hange glides their thumb softly across your palm, their touch warm and deliberate. With a fluid motion, they bring your left hand to their lips, brushing a tender kiss against your skin as their entrancing stare holds yours. The kiss lingers, unhurried, as if to etch the moment into your senses.

Then, their lips trail to your ring finger, pressing another gentle kiss before they finally pull away, leaving a warmth that seems to linger in the air between you.

"It was a pleasure speaking with the Queen. I shall see you in a month."

As Hange leaves, you think about their gestures. They replay in your head even as the Commander boards the Azumabito ship, ready to sail to foreign lands.

You stare into the distance until a knock sounds on the door. Zackly asks for your presence on the dock, but his orders go unnoticed as you drown out all noises under the trance that the Commander has put you in.

A few hours after their departure, Hange's mind drifts back to their actions. Foolish—that much is obvious. If anyone found out what they'd done, the consequences would be nothing short of hellish. But even so, they wouldn't change a thing.

After all, if trouble came knocking, they'd have an entire month to figure out how to deal with it.

[helenvaughans]

so i'm reading blitzed: drugs in the third reich by norman ohler rn and it is SO striking to me that the way he describes hermann göring is SO SIMILAR to how elon musk is:

[...] the second most important man in the state had developed a severe morphine addiction. Before he left his bedroom, "Möring," as he was secretly nicknamed, took his craftsman-made syringe with its gold ring out of its light-brown deer-hide case, pulled it open as usual, drew back the sleeve of his green velvet dressing gown as he always did, bound his arm, narrowed his eyes to find the right spot, and gave himself a massive injection. It took only a few seconds for the morphine to enter his blood. A huge ruby brooch glittered spectacularly on his chest. Göring's eyes were now big and gleaming, pierced with pinprick pupils. The world lay at his feet, and in his blissfully opium-soaked brain he decided that the glorious victory over the Allies should under no circumstances be left to the arrogant leaders of the army. (pg. 80-81)

Göring suffered no consequences resulting from [the Operation Sea Lion] failure. He still held court in the huge building of the Reich aviation ministry, built of pale stone blocks on Wilhelmstrasse. Red Reich war flags emblazoned with a swastika fluttered confidently above, as if to point out unequivocally that even the winds were subject to the power of this government and particularly to that of the Reich Marshal. But anyone who passed through the big cast-iron gate and crossed the broad forecourt stepped into a realm of chaos, of unbridled alcohol and drug abuse, of intrigues and general mismanagement. (pg. 94)

Often during discussions, Göring, once the opium content of his blood had dropped, felt so deranged that he would leave the room abruptly without a word of explanation, then return a few minutes later, plainly much refreshed. A general described one such surprising transformation: "Göring had the air of being new-born, he looked magnificent and fixed his sparkling blue eyes on us. The difference in his whole appearance between the first and second parts of our conference was notable. For me it was clear that he had been taking some form of stimulant. (pg. 95)

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

A disgustingly economic discussion that is far more clear about the realities of covid than what our governments are telling us

“There is a huge delusion at the moment that COVID is over and when we talk about it, we say ‘when the pandemic happened’ but actually it is still happening,” he said. “So, insurance companies need to be very conscious of that and to be thinking ahead. Swiss Re has a powerful role across the market to make sure that this is being thought about. “In our view, there are a range of scenarios, but most of them anticipate a return to normality in five to 10 years, depending on your level of optimism. And we think that because of the other more fundamental movements happening around cancer, lifestyle risk and eventually Alzheimer's, to name the three biggest ones, that mortality improvements will also return over the longer term.”

By Mia Wallace

“COVID-19 is far from over.”

A recent Swiss Re report suggested potential excess mortality in the general population of up to 3% in the US and 2.5% in the UK by 2033 in a pessimistic scenario, highlighting the lingering impact of COVID-19 – both as a direct cause of death and as a contributor to cardiovascular mortality.

Discussing the report with Re-Insurance Business, Paul Murray (pictured), CEO of L&H Reinsurance at Swiss Re, outlined some of the key ageing and mortality trends shaping the life and health reinsurance market today. “Of course, we saw excess mortality when we were locked down and experiencing the pandemic but now we’ve returned to normal life, we think it’s over and it’s not. People are still getting ill with the COVID infection and they’re still dying.”

The debate for the market now is how long that trend is likely to continue, and whether its impact will fade over time – with Swiss Re’s recent report offering multiple scenarios into the reinsurance giant’s viewpoint on that question. Top of mind is understanding the key factors driving future mortality trends and changing life expectancy statistics – and how these influencing factors may change going forward.

What are the top trends driving future mortality trends? Pinpointing some of the key considerations driving future mortality trends, Murray underscored the need to look at historical data. “The headline for me is always that there has been a phenomenal period of mortality improvements, of life expectancy extending. This is probably one of the biggest social transformations that the human race has been through.

“One of the main drivers of that has been cardiovascular improvements. Smoking cessation helped a lot towards that in the 20th century and is continuing now as well. There’s also new technology that enables low-intervention cardiovascular surgery, like stents. We’ve shifted from a lot of surgery having to be open-heart and high-risk in an operating theatre to in-and-out in a day with injected stents. It has been completely transformational.”

Where do medical advances go next? The ”plumbing” of the human body and the way it’s protected and healed by modern medicine has been largely optimised, he said, but now some of the benefits of that is starting to level off. Looking to the future, he sees that there is still the potential for some further improvements as a factor driving increased life expectancy, particularly amid improving access to information and education about healthy living choices – and improving intervention techniques.

“When we look forward, I anticipate the area where we have the best chance of improvements is on the cancer side,” he said. “Comparatively to cardiovascular risk, improvements to cancer treatments have been relatively low in the past. Of course, it’s very complex as 'cancer' is a bucket term which combines 200-plus types, but we are seeing some very promising technologies emerging here that will help address that.

“Take mRNA vaccines, for instance, which are not new but became very prominent in the pandemic, specifically as it helped us develop vaccines very quickly. mRNA capabilities, combined with immunotherapy, are currently in trials, and showing very significant improvements in outcomes for cancer patients in specific causes. And we've only really started scratching the surface of that. Looking 10-to-30 years out, which is the duration we have to think about as life insurers, we think that’s a prominent contributor to future improvement.”

Alzheimer's is another pressing area for consideration, he said, as, with people generally living longer, this is becoming a much more significant risk. Due to a myriad of reasons, more people than ever are living with Alzheimer’s today and society is being increasingly challenged to deal with it and to support those living with the disease. “Again, improvements in dealing with Alzheimer's historically have not been that great, and I think this is one area where there's the potential for a meaningful breakthrough, and we're starting to see some signs of that in scientific research.”

Understanding the impact of lifestyle factors on future mortality trends An interesting element shaping discourse in the life and health reinsurance market is the question of the impact of lifestyle factors on future mortality trends. Murray noted that if you characterize overall mortality rates into lifestyle or non-communicable diseases, between 30-40% of mortality is driven by lifestyle choices – including such factors as what you eat, whether you smoke, whether you exercise, how much sugar you eat, and how you manage your stress.

The insured population are typically quite happy to engage with that, he said, and Swiss Re is seeing improvement on those metrics, but there remain large swathes of the overall population who don’t engage in that conversation. As more data emerges over time, he believes the market will start to see stronger connections between activity and outcomes which, in turn, will help it to drive better results.

“An interesting area here is diabetes and Swiss Re is taking a leadership position on this globally,” he said. “We regularly engage with policymakers around the world – with doctors and thinkers on nutrition and food policy in particular – to [highlight] how your diet has a big impact on your health, but also to assess whether the current advice is appropriate for the future.

“Obesity and diabetes continue to increase. That debate has a long way to go, but if it continues to evolve positively, it will have a positive impact on mortality.”

Poor metabolic health drives obesity and diabetes, which are offsetting previous advances made by treating cardiovascular diseases and smoking cessation. The emergence of GLP-1/GIP weight loss injectables has shown early promise in reducing weight and improving baseline clinical risk factors, when combined with long-term lifestyle alterations. Although long-term data doesn’t yet exist on the impact of GLP-1 drugs, in the short term these medications are showing positive results in reducing all-causes, and specifically cardiovascular mortality. In addition, the drugs appear to positively affect a range of other conditions such as cancer, liver and kidney diseases, and even neurodegenerative diseases.

When will excess mortality return to pre-pandemic levels? Underpinning the broader conversation is the big question on the minds of many across the life and health reinsurance market – when, or if, excess mortality will return to pre-pandemic levels. Swiss Re’s recent paper posited both a pessimistic and an optimistic scenario because its role is not to say what will happen, but rather to encourage people to think about the tail risk of the COVID crisis and how it might play out.

“There is a huge delusion at the moment that COVID is over and when we talk about it, we say ‘when the pandemic happened’ but actually it is still happening,” he said. “So, insurance companies need to be very conscious of that and to be thinking ahead. Swiss Re has a powerful role across the market to make sure that this is being thought about.

“In our view, there are a range of scenarios, but most of them anticipate a return to normality in five to 10 years, depending on your level of optimism. And we think that because of the other more fundamental movements happening around cancer, lifestyle risk and eventually Alzheimer's, to name the three biggest ones, that mortality improvements will also return over the longer term.”

Study link: www.swissre.com/institute/research/topics-and-risk-dialogues/health-and-longevity/covid-19-pandemic-synonymous-excess-mortality.html