#the power the energy the fluidity

[ezukll]

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⚸ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐍

⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ 𝐎𝐁𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 🖤

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ♈︎

The placement of Lilith in Aries indicates a primal and aggressive energy, a drive for independence and self-expression. This placement can bring out a fiery and assertive nature in a person, a relentless passion and a tendency to act impulsively and even aggressvely. With Lilith in Aries, one may experience intense emotions that push them towards action, a willingness to fight for their desires and beliefs, and a desire for autonomy. This placement can also bring out a rebellious spirit, a tendency to break with tradition, and an aggressive sexuality.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐒 ♉︎

Lilith in Taurus indicates a primal and possessive energy, a drive for comfort and safety. This placement can bring out a possessive nature in a person, a desire to cling to comfort zones and a tendency to be defensive or protective of their possessions and loved ones. With Lilith in Taurus, one may experience intense sexual desires, a need to nurture and be nurtured, and a drive to seek out comfort and pleasure. This placement can also bring out a possessive or controlling streak, a tendency to be stubborn and fixated on material possessions, and an intense emotional attachment to people and things.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 ♊︎

Lilith in Gemini represents a primal and intellectual energy, a drive for exploration and experimentation. This placement can bring out a curious and intellectual nature in a person, a desire to learn new things and explore different ideas. Lilith in Gemini encourages a love of learning and an open-minded approach to life. It can bring a sense of ingenuity and mental fluidity, a tendency to seek out new experiences and perspectives, and a desire to gain an understanding of the world through communication and the exchange of ideas. With Lilith in Gemini, one may experience intense emotions and an emotional attachment to their ideas and beliefs.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 ♋︎

Lilith in Cancer indicates a primal and emotional energy, a drive for security and nurturing. This placement can bring out a highly sensitive nature, a desire to feel safe and cared for, and a tendency to prioritize emotional comfort and protection over logic and rationality. With Lilith in Cancer, one may experience intense emotions that feel overwhelming, a desire for intimacy and a sense of belonging, and a tendency to be overly sensitive to their surroundings. This placement can create a desire for protection and emotional closeness, as well as an aversion to confrontation.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐄𝐎 ♌︎

Lilith in Leo represents a primal and passionate energy, a drive for power and self-expression. This placement can bring out a fiery and passionate nature, a desire to take center stage and be noticed, a tendency to be dramatic and to seek out attention. With Lilith in Leo, one may experience intense emotions that fuel a passionate and fiery personality, a desire to act with confidence and courage, and a tendency to prioritize their own needs and desires. This placement can also bring out a dramatic and even egoistic side, a tendency to want to be in control, and a need to be admired and praised.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐎 ♍︎

Lilith in Virgo represents a primal and analytical energy, a drive for perfection and attention to detail. This placement can bring out a critical and analytical nature, a desire to analyze and understand details, and a tendency to be perfectionist and fussy. With Lilith in Virgo, one may experience intense emotions that lead to harsh self-judgment, a tendency to blame and judge others for mistakes, and a desire to seek and attain perfection. This placement can create a strong work ethic, a tendency to overwork, and a desire to make meaningful and impactful changes.

⠀⠀⠀⠀ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀 ♎︎

Lilith in Libra represents a primal and diplomatic energy, a drive to balance and harmony. This placement can bring out a diplomatic and peaceful nature, a desire to seek harmony and compromise, and a tendency to prioritize the needs of others over one's own. With Lilith in Libra, one may experience intense emotions that lead to indecision and a tendency to people-please. It can create a conflict between one's own desires and the desires of others, a tendency to over-compromise, and a need to seek balance and justice in all things.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 ♏︎

Lilith in Scorpio represents a primal and seductive energy, a drive for power and manipulation. This placement can bring out a highly intense nature, a strong desire for control, and a tendency to use one's sexual power to manipulate. With Lilith in Scorpio, one may experience intense emotions that lead to jealousy and possessiveness, a tendency to use their seductiveness to their advantage, and a desire to be secretive and controlling. This placement can create intense emotions that fuel jealous tendencies and a need for control, and can also promote a fascination with dark and seductive energy.

⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 ♐︎

Lilith in Sagittarius represents a primal and rebellious energy, a drive for exploration and change. This placement can bring out a rebellious and free-spirited nature, a desire to break away from conventions and authority, and a love of learning and expanding one's horizons. With Lilith in Sagittarius, one may experience intense emotions that feed a desire for exploration and adventure, a tendency to seek out new experiences rather than stay with what is familiar, and a curiosity for cultures and lifestyles different from their own. This placement can create a sense of freedom and passion, and a need to push boundaries.

⠀⠀ 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 ♑︎

Lilith in Capricorn represents a primal and ambitious energy, a drive to achieve success and authority. This placement can bring out a pragmatic and goal-driven nature, a strong desire for success and recognition, and a tendency to take action rather than dwell on emotions. With Lilith in Capricorn, one may experience intense emotions that lead to a competitive drive, a tendency to set high standards, and a tendency to prioritize their own success over others. This placement can create a strong desire for power and material success, as well as a tendency to be overly critical and perfectionist.

⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 ♒︎

Lilith in Aquarius represents a primal and revolutionary energy, a drive to seek change and break free from norms and conventions. This placement can bring out a rebellious and idealistic nature, a desire to bring about change and innovation, and a tendency to go against the grain. With Lilith in Aquarius, one may experience intense emotions that lead to a desire to be seen and heard, a tendency to rebel against authority figures and to fight for a cause. This placement can create a passion for justice and equality, a desire to create a better world, and a strong sense of individuality.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 ♓︎

Lilith in Pisces represents a primal and spiritual energy, a drive for escapism and transcendence. This placement can bring out an empathetic and intuitive nature, a tendency to be open-minded and embrace creativity, and a desire to explore the realms of the imagination. With Lilith in Pisces, one may experience intense emotions that lead to a desire to escape reality and seek out mystical experience. It brings emotional depths that can be overwhelming and difficult to handle, a need to explore different ways of looking at the world and seeking spiritual truths, and a desire to transcend physical limits.

⠀⠀⠀⠀

[transform4u]

A Wish is a Dream Your Dick Makes

Neil is the epitome of bright-eyed enthusiasm and unbridled optimism. His personality is cheerful, with an infectious, bubbly charm that lights up any room. As a cute, twinky Disney gay and aspiring actor, he carries a wholesome, carefree attitude that makes him a delight to be around. With his effervescent smile and twinkling eyes, he seems to float through life, his every gesture imbued with a vibrant energy that's as endearing as it is genuine.

However, Neil's acting career has hit a frustrating snag. He often finds himself pigeonholed into roles that emphasize his youthful, adorable demeanor, reducing his range to the "cute, twink" stereotype. It's a limiting typecasting that stifles his dreams of exploring more diverse and substantial characters. He often wished he could be taken more seriously, more a leading man.

One afternoon, while working from home, Neil’s agent calls with a spark of excitement in their voice. They mention a new role and promise to send over the script immediately. Just moments later, Neil hears the doorbell ring. Bounding to the door with his usual vivacity, he finds an envelope waiting for him. The envelope, crisp and pristine, contains the script that his agent promised.

He eagerly tears open the package, his excitement palpable. Without pausing to fully take in the details, he unfolds the script. The first line of dialogue catches his eye: “We’re about to hit those PRs like it’s no big deal, fam.” He reads the line aloud, his lisp giving it a playful twist. He attempts to repeat it in a deeper voice, trying to adjust his tone to fit the character, but his attention is abruptly seized by a strange sensation.

As Neil continues to hold the script, his delicate, thin hands start to tingle and pulse with a peculiar energy. The feeling intensifies, and he finds himself sinking to his knees, overwhelmed by a wave of transformation.

Before his eyes, his once slender frame undergoes a dramatic metamorphosis. His skin, previously fair and smooth, darkens into a deep, rich brown tan. His body begins to shift and grow, muscles expanding and reshaping with an almost surreal fluidity. His physique evolves into a monument of gym dedication and protein shakes.

His abs, now a landscape of sculpted granite, form ridges and valleys so pronounced they seem chiseled by an artist's hand. His biceps swell into massive, bulging forms, veins coursing beneath his skin like an intricate network of rivers. His chest, once slender, expands into a robust expanse, with pecs so prominent they create a formidable shelf. His shoulders are like massive boulders, each movement underscored by their immense strength. His traps rise with a power that suggests he has not just carried his own weight but perhaps the entire gym’s.

This new form exudes a swaggering confidence, an embodiment of raw power and dedication. It’s a striking contrast to the previous Neil, and it marks a dramatic shift not just in appearance but in the potential for his acting career.

Neil stared at the line, his mind turning to mush as he read the words "Gonna flex those muscles and flex my way into her DMs, you know what I’m saying?" over and over again. He felt his intelligence slowly slipping away, becoming dumber and dumber with each passing moment. The line was like a poison, infecting his brain with its crude and crude thoughts.

As he read on, Neil's memories began to change, becoming crude and rude. He remembered a kiss he had with his boyfriend, the feeling of his lips on his own making him shudder with pleasure. But this memory was quickly replaced by a snarl, his face contorting in disgust at the idea of sleeping with another man. The image of his boyfriend slowly morphed into a big-boobed, slutty white chick, her ample breasts and tight jeans making Neil's mouth water.

He flexed his muscles, feeling like a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi. Neil grabbed a beer from the fridge, the cold can feeling good in his hand. He cracked it open with a loud hiss, the sound making him let out a buuuurrrrp that echoed through the room. "Ah, yeah!" he exclaimed, feeling like the king of the world. Neil's mind was a mess, but he didn't care. He was too busy being a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi to worry about anything else.

As he sat on the couch, beer in hand, Neil's thoughts turned to the chick he had just imagined. He pictured her in his mind, her big boobs and tight jeans making him feel all hot and bothered. He flexed his muscles again, feeling like a total stud. Neil's mind was a jumbled mess, but he didn't care. He was too busy being a dumb, obnoxious fuckboi to worry about anything else. He could almost see the girl's face, her makeup smeared and her hair a mess. She was the epitome of everything Neil despised, a shallow, superficial creature who only cared about one thing. Neil's distaste for her was overwhelming, and he couldn't help but wonder what she would think if she knew how pathetic she was. "Gonna flex those muscles and flex my way into her DMs," he repeated to himself, his voice deepening slighlty.

His muscles responded to this newfound resolve with a dramatic surge. His biceps, already impressive, began to inflate even further, their size expanding rapidly as if they were inflating under the pressure of an unseen force. Each flex of his arms brought about a visible increase in their bulk, the veins beneath his skin becoming more pronounced as they snaked their way up his arms.

Simultaneously, his chest began to swell, his pecs pushing outward and upward with a forceful expansion. They grew so robust and full that they seemed to defy the constraints of his previous form, creating a massive shelf that commanded attention. His abs, once a well-defined set of ridges, began to expand and redefine themselves into an awe-inspiring landscape of muscular strength. Each muscle was honed to perfection, their definition more pronounced, their mass more substantial.

With this transformation came an intense, almost unbearable pain. It felt as though every fiber of his being was being stretched and restructured. Neil gritted his teeth as the pain coursed through him, his muscles burning with a fierce intensity that seemed to push against his skin, almost as if it were struggling to contain the newly burgeoning bulk. His breathing became labored, each inhalation sharp and ragged as his body adapted to the rapid changes.

As the beer finished, Neil let out another large buurrrrrrrp, feeling proud of himself for being so manly. He thought about his old friends, and how much they were losers. They were all gay, and Neil felt a wave of homophobia wash over him. He thought about how gross and disgusting they were, how they went against his faith. He thought about how he was better than them, how he was a real man and they were just a bunch of fags. The thought of them made him sick, and Neil felt a wave of disgust wash over him.

Neil's voice started to tingle as he read the next line, a sense of excitement building up inside of him. His eyes scanned the words quickly, but his brain picked up every detail. He could almost hear the deep, gravelly voice that was describing this swagger. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he read, repeating the line in his head. Suddenly, his voice started to change. It got deeper, like a growl, and he could almost hear an accent creeping into his words. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he repeated again, feeling the words taking on a new meaning. His mind started to shift, like a puzzle clicking into place. He could feel a sense of entitlement washing over him, a feeling that he was something special, something legendary. His personality started to take over, becoming the most obnoxious Middle Eastern douchebag.

His face started to change, shifting into a thick, furry beard and piercing brown eyes. He felt his nose growing, his cheeks puffed out and his chin jutting out. His hair grew wild and curly, sticking out in all directions. He flexed his huge muscles, grinning as he felt their power surge through him. He turned to his side, picking up his Instagram and scanning through the pictures. "Ah, another day in the life of a legendary Arabian stallion," he said, posting a new picture of himself. His followers started to comment, congratulating him on his swagger. Neil grinned, feeling like he was the king of the world.

He started to dance, his hips swaying from side to side as he moved his body. "No cap, my swagger is as legendary as an Arabian stallion's!" he sang, his voice echoing off the walls. He was in his own little world, a world where he was the biggest and the best. No one else mattered, nothing else existed. He was the one and only Arabian stallion, the most legendary creature in the land.

Neil's dance turned into a run, his feet pounding the ground as he moved. He could feel his heart pounding, his body surging with energy. He was in his prime, the greatest Arabian stallion the world had ever seen. His muscles rippled beneath his skin as he ran, his sweat dripping down his face. He was untouchable, unstoppable, the king of the land.

Rami threw the script down, the page of the script for the character he was reading on the front page reading, "Rami 'The Sultan' Al-Karim is a 24-year-old muscle-bound show-off with a deep tan, perfectly styled hair, and an ego to match. Constantly flaunting his gym gains and cheesy pickup lines, he's the epitome of cringey Gen Z bravado with a Middle Eastern flair." Neil was dead, and in his place stood Rami, an obnoxious entitled middle eastern douchebag. Rami let out a loud scream, "Gah. What the fuck is this script, acting is for fags!" He jumped up from his chair, his face turning bright red with rage. He stormed over to his phone, his fingers flying across the screen as he scrolled through his Instagram and Twitter feed. Rami's fingers flew across the screen as he scrolled through his Twitter feed. He came across a tweet from a guy, "I love how gay men are always so sensitive." Rami let out a loud laugh, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed out a response, "Lol, what a fag. You must be a closeted homo, always talking about gay men." He sent the tweet, his eyes scanning the screen for a response. A few minutes later, the guy responded with a tweet, "At least I'm not a stupid Gen Zer who thinks they're a Sultan." Rami let out a loud laugh, his fingers flying across the screen as he typed out a response, "get bent, fag! You can't handle a real man!!!!"

Rami's eyes landed on a picture of a slutty white girl on instagram, her tits spilling out of her top. He let out a loud groan, his dick starting to get hard. He quickly typed out a message, "Hey cutie, what's up? You look so hot, I need to get you in my bed ASAP." He sent the message, his eyes scanning the screen for a response. A few minutes later, the girl sent him a picture of her tits. Rami let out a loud groan, his dick getting even harder. He quickly typed out a response, "Oh my god, you're so hot. I need to get you in my bed now." He sent the message, his eyes scanning the screen for a response.

Rami's dick was getting so hard that he could barely stand it. He quickly jumped up from his chair, his fingers flying across the screen as he snapped a picture of his dick. The picture showed his huge, hard dick, his balls hanging low. He quickly typed out a caption, "Just got so hard, I need to get laid ASAP." He sent the picture, his eyes scanning the screen for a response.

[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.

[hunkpossession0]

**Riding a New Life: A Ghost's Journey**

I had been a wandering spirit for what felt like an eternity. Ever since the accident that severed my connection to the living world, I had been drifting through the ether, invisible and forgotten. That is, until today.

I found myself in a dimly lit parking garage, the scent of gasoline and rubber filling the air. The growl of an engine echoed off the walls, and that’s when I saw him—a young biker, effortlessly cool in his black and red leather suit, leaning casually against his sleek Honda. He was everything I had once admired from afar, back when I was alive.

I watched him for a moment, a pang of envy and longing coursing through my spectral form. Then, almost instinctively, I felt myself drawn toward him. There was a sudden pull, a rush of energy, and before I knew it, I was inside his body.

The moment I slipped into his form, it was as if the world exploded in sensation. The first thing I noticed was the heat—the intoxicating warmth of his skin, the snug embrace of the leather suit wrapping around me. It was a second skin, tight and form-fitting, accentuating every contour and muscle. The leather was smooth and supple, a mix of security and allure that was almost overwhelming.

I flexed my fingers, feeling the resistance of the gloves, the reassuring grip they provided. I couldn't help but admire the strength in these hands, the power in this body. My heart raced, not just from the thrill of possession, but from the sheer intensity of feeling alive again. The suit clung to me, a perfect fit, and I relished the way it made me look—strong, confident, and undeniably hot.

Every step I took in the leather suit was a new discovery. The way it accentuated my broad shoulders, the way it hugged my biceps and triceps, making every muscle pop with definition. I could feel the smooth caress of the leather against my skin, the way it moved with me, an extension of my newfound strength.

After an exhilarating ride through the city, I decided to explore more of what this new life had to offer. I had noticed a gym bag in the trunk of his bike, and an idea struck me. I headed to the local gym, eager to test the limits of this new body.

Entering the gym, I felt a wave of excitement. The scent of sweat and metal filled the air, and the rhythmic clanking of weights created a motivating soundtrack. I walked confidently to the locker room, changing into a tank top and workout pants that showed off my muscular physique. The reflection in the mirror was almost surreal—I was now this fit, handsome biker with a body that drew admiration and respect.

I started with some light stretches, feeling every muscle respond with a fluidity and power I had never experienced before. Moving to the weight section, I picked up a dumbbell, the cold metal heavy in my hand. I began a series of bicep curls, watching in awe as the muscles in my arms bulged and flexed.

The intensity of the workout was intoxicating. I pushed myself harder, feeling the burn in my muscles, the rush of endorphins coursing through my veins. I moved from one machine to another, challenging myself with each set, reveling in the strength and endurance of this body.

Between sets, I caught glimpses of myself in the mirror. The way the tank top clung to my chest and shoulders, the way my arms looked pumped and powerful—it was a heady mix of vanity and pride. I couldn't help but snap a quick selfie, capturing the moment of pure, unadulterated strength.

As the workout continued, I felt a growing sense of accomplishment. This body was capable of so much, and I was determined to explore its limits. The sweat poured down my skin, a testament to the hard work and effort I was putting in. And with each rep, each lift, I could feel myself growing more confident, more comfortable in this new skin.

But something was missing. My spectral journey had been long and lonely, and I longed to share this new life with someone who understood. That’s when I remembered my closest ghost friend, another lost soul who had wandered with me through the void. He deserved this chance too.

Later that evening, I returned to the parking garage, where I found another biker—a friend of the man whose body I had claimed. He was tall and lean, with a rugged handsomeness that made my decision easy. I called out to my ghost friend, guiding him to this new vessel.

With a rush of energy, my friend entered the biker’s body. The transformation was immediate. He blinked, adjusting to the new sensations, then looked at me with a mixture of awe and gratitude. We were no longer lost souls. We were alive, and we had each other.

Together, we returned to the gym. It was a surreal experience, seeing my friend in his new form, watching him flex and admire his new physique. We took a moment to capture it—a selfie of the two of us, side by side, strong and proud. The bond we shared as ghosts had transformed into something deeper, something more intimate.

In the gym mirror, we stood close, our bodies radiating strength and confidence. My friend, now in his own muscular form, flexed his bicep while I wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Our tank tops clung to us, revealing every sculpted muscle, every defined line. The pride in our eyes was unmistakable. Here we were, two souls reborn, finding a new life and love in the most unexpected way.

As the days passed, we explored our new lives together. We rode our bikes through the city, feeling the wind on our faces, the thrill of speed and freedom. We worked out side by side, pushing each other to new heights, celebrating every achievement.

Our connection grew stronger, evolving into a romantic bond that felt natural and right. We were a couple now, navigating this new world together. The love we had for each other, forged in the ethereal realm, blossomed in our new, physical forms.

And as we stood together, gazing at our reflections, we knew that this was just the beginning. We had found a new home, a new life, and most importantly, we had found each other. The road ahead was ours to conquer, and we were ready to face it together.

The leather suit, which had started it all, became a symbol of our transformation. Every time I slipped into it, I felt a rush of excitement and power. The way it hugged my body, the way it made me look and feel—it was exhilarating. And as we rode together, side by side, I knew that we were more than just bikers. We were partners, lovers, and together, we were unstoppable.

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Knockout Love - Changbin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: boxer! Changbin x fem! reader

summary: In a bustling city, a talented fighter is climbing the ranks of the professional boxing world. During a crucial match, Changbin locks eyes witn you in the audience. Distracted, he takes a hard hit to the face...

warnings: just fluff, kissing, physical fighting (punching, kicking), gambling

a/n: this one was a little more personal and I just thought binnie fit the role so perfectly! Happy birthday Binnie baby!

Adrenaline is defined as a substance that is released in the body of a person who is feeling a strong emotion, causing the heart to beat faster and give the person more energy. Changbin was close to the finish line. Years of running in a straight line had led him to this exact point. He could see it just ahead.

The arena buzzed with excitement, the crowd’s roar echoing off the walls as the two fighters entered the ring under the bright, unforgiving lights. In one corner stood Changbin, his muscles taut and eyes focused. Across from him stood his opponent, a well-known fighter who bounced lightly on his feet, exuding confidence and agility. Changbin watched as he flitted back and forth, arms already raised and ready. Something about this fight felt different, some kind of electricity buzzed in the air around them.

As the first bell rang, his opponent charged forward, throwing a series of quick jabs. Changbin deftly dodged and countered with a powerful uppercut, landing it squarely on the other fighter’s chin. Changbin’s opponent faltered for a moment but quickly recovered. The fighter danced around the ring, his footwork impeccable. While Changbin relied on brute strength, delivering punishing blows whenever he saw an opening. He could hear his coach shouting at him from the corner of the ring.

Come on! Hit him! Don’t back down!

Everything had been leading to this. All of his training, all of his tireless, bleeding, aching, miserable moments had led him to this. Changbin had never known anything in life that he wanted more than to win. Until he saw you.

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

You were on a terrible date. Not just terrible. But a boring, incompatible, mentally exhausting date. The man escorting you around town was exactly your type. He was tall, handsome, successful and arrogant. But as the two of you walked downtown, you couldn’t help but wonder why you were so miserable. He was everything you had always looked for in a man. He even smelled rich, so what was the problem?

He continued to talk on his phone as he led you down the street. He was presumably on a business call with some other rich assholes that were most likely just as arrogant. Mr. Wall Street. He led you to a rundown building that looked like it should be condemned. You furrowed your brow at the sight while your date gave you a cocky smile and a simple: trust me. You followed Mr. Wall Street down a flight of stairs that opened up to a large, abandoned warehouse. Inside was one single boxing ring surrounded by hundreds of screaming men. Some men yelled obscenities while some had fists full of cash they were swinging around wildly.

“Why did you bring me here?” You asked with a sneer.

Mr. Wall Street looked you up and down and rolled his eyes. “Come on baby,” his arm already snaking around your waist, “it will be fun. Besides, I always make great money on this guy.”

His finger pointed to a stocky, but chiseled boxer at one end of the ring. Your eyes drank in his entire form, his arms glistening from the bright lights, his forehead dripping with sweat. While his body looked very strong and almost intimidating, his face looked soft and kind. You continued to stare at the boxer as you and Mr. Wall Street took your seats beside the ring. You listened to the MC announce his name as Seo Changbin.

The fight had begun with the first bell ring. You watched the way Changbin moved and landed blows with an almost water-like fluidity. The crowd erupted with every successful hit, a sea of cheering, gasping, and shouting, their energy feeding the intensity of the match. Your heart picked up speed as your eyes followed Changbin’s movements. You had never been to a boxing match before, never even watched one on the television. However, you found yourself captivated with his ebb and flow.

“Didn’t I tell you this guy was great?” Mr. Wall Street slugged his arm around your shoulder and pulled you into him.

Your body reacted immediately, tensing up and already trying to pull away. But instead you nodded your head, fixing your eyes back on the match.

In the final round, both fighters were exhausted. The score was tied and everyone waited with bated breath as the bell echoed through the room. Determination etched on his face, Changbin fought through the main that was coursing through his muscles. The first rule they teach you, before anything else, is to keep your eyes on your opponent. Never break eye contact, even for a second. Because that second could change everything.

Changbin’s fists were like pistons, relentless and powerful. His opponent's moves, however, were calculated. Each punch landed with a resounding thud, sending ripples of pain through their bodies. Sweat flew off their brows with every impact, muscles straining under the pressure. Pressure was all Changbin had been feeling for months. He dodged another hit, this time barely missing his chin. As he turned his head swiftly to the left, his eyes locked with yours. You were luminous. The harsh lights of the arena seemed to give you an angelic glow that singled you out from the rest of the crowd. He had never seen anything so beauti-

Never break eye contact, not even for a second.

Changbin’s opponent saw his opening and pounced with hestistation, landing a devastating hook that sent Changbin to the mat. The crowd exploded in a mixture of cheers and anger. Some men even tried to rush the ring, seeing their money, their bets, fall flat onto the floor of the mat. Changbin laid unconscious for a moment, his coach at his side, shaking and slapping his face. The referee soon entered the ring and lifted the arm of the other fighter. The audience was en emotion mix of joy and sadness, including Mr. Wall Street.

You stood from your seat and tried to see Changbin from the waves of angry men that were now surrounding him. As you attempted to get closer, your date grabbed your hand and pulled you aside and down a hallway.

“What-What are we doing?” You stammered as your date continued to pull you behind him.

“That asshole owes me money! I can’t believe he lost…” Mr. Wall Street was fuming, his grip on your hand growing stronger.

The two of you finally stopped outside of a plain, white door. His fists pounded on the door and demanded to see the fighter, Changbin. Changbin opened the door slowly, holding a small ice pack on his cheek.

“Yeah?” He spoke with a soft exhaustion.

Mr. Wall Street stood fuming. The air was thick with anticipation as the two men faced each other. Changbin hadn’t noticed you standing there, his head still cloudy from the fight. Your date stepped closer and demanded money. He told Changbin that he is not a man who likes to lose. He told him that he was getting that money one way or another. Changbin scoffed and rolled his eyes. This was not the first time an entitled asshole came crying to him when they lost a bet. You slowly stepped in front of your date and apologized.

“Sorry about this, about the fight.” You said in a tender voice. You weren’t really sure what to say, but you felt you had to say something. Changbin’s eyes softened as he recognized your face again. His body instinctively moved towards yours as you spoke. His eyes watched you closely, almost hypnotized by the sound of your voice.

Mr. Wall Street huffed and swiftly grabbed your arm, pulling you back behind him. You let out a sharp gasp as you stumbled backwards. Changbin felt lightning shooting through his fingertips at the sight of you falling back. He didn’t think about his next move, he didn’t have to. His fists clenched as his jaw tightened. With a swift motion, Changbin swung his fist, landing a solid punch on Mr. Wall Street’s jaw. A sharp crack echoed, and he staggered back, pain flashing across his face. He looked at You then back and Changbin before finally shouting “fuck this!”

He was gone in a flash down the hallway while the two of you stood across from each other in complete silence. Changbin shook off his hand, his knuckles tingling slightly from the impact. He looked at you again, “Are you alright?” His voice was a little gruff and irritated.

You didn’t think about your next move, you didn't have to. Your heart raced as you crashed your lips into his. His lips were soft and warm against yours. You felt the gentle pressure as he pulled you closer, his hand resting lightly on your back. A rush of warmth spread through you, a mix of excitement and tenderness. The entire arena seemed to fade away and all you could think about was how right this moment felt. Changbin held you close against him, his arms surrounding you completely. He was so delicate with you, so tender. Changbin moaned softly into the kiss as you leaned further into him. He had never been so happy to lose a fight.

taglist: @simply-trash5 @sugawhaaa @trixiekaulitz @chrizzztopherbang @cassidymb121 @roanns-posts @staysinbloom @yaorzu-blog @bubblebisk @cotton-candycloudz @beautyinhypnosis @domicaru @strawberry31 @slxtmeri @newhope8 @tinyelfperson @dandelions-143 @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @msauthor @fun-fanfics @ell0thebell @stephanieeeyang @juskz @kimahreummm @readr1221 @kayleefriedchicken @ovulatingrn @hwnglixho @darthmaddie25 @queen-in-the-shadows @itgirlalisaa @miinhoo @greyaia @chanchansgirly @skzleeknowcore @skz-smut-reader @thatisrankharry

[cardansriddle]

"You know how to ball, I know Aristotle" - (tom riddle x fem!reader)

Summary: Tom finds himself harbouring a small crush on the Slytherin Chaser.

Warnings: None, just pure fluff. As always, not proofread, so apologies for any mistakes.

A/N: First post in months, hi, hello, I'm alive!!! This one is heavily inspired by the lyrics "you know how to ball, I know Aristotle" from so high school by taylor swift (obviously). And we all know Tom is the nerd in any scenario.

༻♛༺

The players soared through the azure sky, their movements orchestrated with precision and grace as the game began. Quidditch had never held any allure for Tom; he deemed it brutish and an unworthy diversion from his personal pursuits. After all, he would rather spend his hours on research to further his magical skills, become the most powerful wizard of all time and accomplish his one ultimate life ambitions.

Yet he had been dragged to the game by his persistent, relentless Knights. Half of them had already taken to the field, while the remainder bellowed raucous cheers from the stands. That is, if one could call creative chants being hurled at the Gryffindor team cheering.

With a disdainful curl of his lip, Tom reached for the book nestled at his side, fully intending to pass the time by reading. Yet, before he could even read a word, a chorus of gasps pierced the air, followed by a rush of wind that tousled his dark locks. Startled, he glanced skyward, just in time to witness one of the Chasers of his house team swooping gracefully to intercept the Quaffle hurtling towards an unsuspecting bystander behind him.

She shot a cheeky smirk at whoever she had just saved before gliding away. Something within Tom stirred—an unexpected surge of fascination seized hold of his senses and he found himself tracking her every movement with a newfound intensity. For a moment his scholarly mind analysed her movements with the same meticulous scrutiny he applied to his studies. She moved with a fluidity that seemed to defy the laws of gravity, her every manoeuvre executed with a finesse that demanded attention.

As her lithe form weaved through the chaos of the game, Tom couldn't help but lean forward to pay attention to the game. He was transfixed, his gaze glued on her as she scored a goal after goal.

"See! I told you Quidditch was fun!" Orion Black exclaimed from next to him, hand moving to pat Tom on his back before realising who he was speaking to and forgoing the action all together.

Tom did not bother acknowledging the boy.

The game came to an end as the Slytherin Seeker deftly caught the snitch after a particularly intense dive, and soon enough the entire crowd of students were rushing to congratulate the victorious team. Just like that, Tom was snapped out of his daze. He gathered his belongings and decided to leave.

༻♛༺

The party in honour of the Slytherin team was in in full swing by the time Tom set foot in the common room. He cursed under his breath as he navigated the crowded space, desperate to retreat to his dormitory and escape the chaos that engulfed the room.

Pushing his way through the throng, he passed by the large emerald couch when his eyes caught sight of her. She sat with her friends in a small circle, an amused smirk playing on her lips. The boisterous energy of the celebration seemed to ripple around her. Tom's ears perked up as someone called her name, attempting to draw her attention. He quickly noted the name, etching it into his mind with the same precision he used for memorizing spells.

"It's your turn!"

She waved a hand in dismissal. "I'm good."

"Oh come on! It is not fair for you to give out the most ridiculous dares then run away when it's your turn. Come on, don't be a coward!" Her friend goaded.

"Perhaps if I were a Gryffindor I would be insulted." she replied with a shrug. Despite her nonchalance, her friends’ uproarious protest began to wear down her resolve. Tom could see the determination flicker in her eyes before she finally relented. "Okay, fine! I will play this once!"

"Truth or dare?"

Tom resisted the urge to scoff at the ridiculously childish game they were partaking in. He should have left right then, but he could not deny that something tugged at his curiosity despite his best efforts to remain aloof.

"Dare."

"What happened to you were not a Gryffindor?"

"I'm just trying to determine if I would be a lousy one or not."

Her friend’s eyes narrowed in thought, clearly plotting the perfect dare. Tom was about to move away when her friend's eyes landed on him, and he saw them sparkle in mischief. He was quick to turn away, pretending he could not hear them.

Just as the girl was announce the dare, a couple crashed into him in their impatience to get through, fingers weaved together, jostling Tom and forcing him to step aside. He grimaced as they hurried past, clearly headed for the dorm rooms. When he turned his attention back to the group, he noticed with a start that the girl had disappeared.

Trying ignore the bizarre pit of disappointment in his stomach, he turned on his heel to head up to his room for the night. He had already lingered more than enough. Just as he turned, another figure crashed straight into his chest. With a string of colourful curses under his breath, he automatically grabbed to steady the person. Tom had lost all his patience, and he was about to snap with something mean when his gaze landed on the Slytherin Chaser.

Whatever sharp words he’d been preparing evaporated in an instant. His focus shifted entirely to the pair of wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him innocently. Too innocently. His instincts told him it spelled trouble.

"Oh, Riddle! I'm sorry, I tripped over my own feet." She said with a sheepish smile, a feigned apology dancing on her lips. Tom narrowed his eyes. She was an athlete, her entire existence on the pitch was defined by her precision and grace. He knew well enough she wasn’t the type to stumble over her own feet.

He opened his mouth to retort but she beat him to it. "Did you watch the game today?"

"Yes," he responded curtly, his gaze never leaving hers, trying to decipher her game.

"Really? I thought you never attended the games. Well, what did you think of it?"

The corner of Tom's lip curled as he replied. "First and last time. Your Quaffle almost disfigured my face."

She raised a brow. "No, the ball almost disfigured Adrian. Your charming smile was in no danger, I assure you."

"My charming smile, yeah?"

A delicate blush crept up her cheeks, turning them a pretty shade of pink under his teasing gaze that she was trying—and failing—to conceal. Tom felt a wave of smug satisfaction at the reaction he had drawn from her. Slowly, he twirled his wand between his long fingers, savoring the moment, letting the tension simmer in the air between them. His movements were slow, deliberate, before he lifted her chin ever so slightly with the tip of the wand, the cool wood brushing against her skin.

"Well, in any case, congratulations on your victory," he murmured, his voice low as he held her gaze firmly in his. "Disfigured smile or not." Then, with the faintest smirk tugging at his lips, Tom broke away to walk past her, heading toward the dormitory.

He was halfway across the common room when a sudden shout rang out amidst the loud crowd.

"Tom!" Her voice rang out, and just as he was about to glance over his shoulder, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist, turning him around with unexpected force. His brows knit in confusion as he looked down at her, words forming in his mind but never reaching his lips. Before he could react, her arms were around his neck, pulling him down in one swift motion. Her lips crashed against his, bold and unapologetic, her kiss catching him entirely off guard.

Tom stood frozen, momentarily stunned, every thought, every calculated plan vanishing in the instant their lips met. For a man who prided himself on control, it was the first time in a long while that he felt completely unmoored. The kiss, with its suddenness and intensity, left him reeling in ways he hadn't deemed possible.

He tuned out the instant cheers and whistles breaking out in a wave of noise at the display, his thoughts consumed only by the soft lips moving over his own.

But the moment was over a moment far too soon. her breath uneven, eyes gleaming with nerves. Tom’s heart, which had betrayed him for just a moment, slowly began to settle back into its steady rhythm.

She bit her lip, a sly smile forming as she met his gaze again. "Sorry… I was dared to do that," she said, almost apologetically.

Tom’s expression didn’t falter, but a flicker of irritation crossed his mind. The kiss, the boldness—it had not been her choice. “Of course,” he replied coolly, his voice measured as he ran a hand through his hair. "A dare.”

She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, Tom leaned in just enough to let his words hang in the air between them, lips brushing against her cheek, his voice low and filled with a subtle challenge. “Then… I dare you,” he began, his gaze locked on hers with a teasing intensity, “to do it again.”

He smirked as her eyes widened, clearly caught off guard by his response. Her gaze flickered to his lips for just a second before she pulled back, her smirk widening. "Careful what you wish for, Tom. You might regret it.”

"Only if it results in your Quaffle flying at my face again."

"If you refrain from reading your book at my game, I promise to keep it away from your vicinity next time." She rolled her eyes, but before either of them could speak again, she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him again, this time softer, slower, the lingering laughter fading into something sweeter.

[nothorses]

https://www.tumblr.com/rq-lif3styl3s/752949689078431744/bahhahahagaggag

Yeah okay, I've got juice in the tank for this one.

So, for anyone who doesn't wanna click links from anons, this is a link to a post about "transracial" and "trans-abled" people. Specifically, this post is arguig that transracial and transabled people Are Valid.

I mostly see people dismiss these ideas as obviously wrong and shitty rather than actually engaging with them, and like, fair. But I have the energy right now, so fuck it. Let's learn!

The thesis of this post is "gender, race, and ability are all basically the same, so being trans-gender/racial/abled is all the same." I think this demonstrates a fundamental lack of understanding of all of these concepts, and frankly, I think this is a deeply incurious way of thinking.

This person clearly has at least a surface-level understanding of transgender theory, and they've gone ahead and applied that understanding to everything else without doing any deeper thinking or learning. That sucks. Gender, race, and dis/ability status are all very much social constructs on which systems of oppression are based, but these are social constructs with very different histories and frameworks.

For example: pretty much every culture has had some concept of "gender"- most of them resembling the "male/female" binary we're familiar with today- since time immemorial. Gender roles are fluid with time and culture, and trans identities (and even culturally-sanctioned gender roles/terms) have also been present as long as gender itself has. Gender in various cultures has not always been a construct on which systems of oppression are based, nor is that system of oppression always a patriarchy.

"Race", by contrast, is a concept that sprung up in the 17th century as a justification for colonization and slavery.

Another example: "Disability" is a more modern term, mostly referring to a system of power and one's position in it. There have always been disabled people, but they haven't always been thought of as disabled, and a lot of things we consider "disabilities" in our present culture weren't always thought of as disabling (i.e. pathologized). A lot of things that are disabling are also not thought of as "real disabilities", and a lot of people who are disabled don't think of themselves- and thus are not thought of- as "disabled". It's fluid in a very different way than gender is fluid.

Racial identity is also fluid for very different reasons than the others: a lot of the reasons someone might experience fluidity in their racial identity have to do with their context, and their individual relationship to white supremacist power and oppression.

I don't think there's anything wrong with acknowledging or exploring the overlap between these things; I personally am super interested in the overlap between cissexism and ableism, and I've explored it a lot in the last couple of years of schooling! Medicalization and pathologization, medical needs and gatekeeping, the understanding of bodies as "natural" and "pure" vs. "unnatural" and "disfigured"- it's all fascinating.

But learning more reveals a lot of differences between gender and transgender folks- things that are entangled with power, but do and have existed separate of power- versus race and disability, which describe relationships to systems of power on a very fundamental level.

It's a mistake to ignore the differences like this, and it reveals more ignorance than anything. Learn about the histories, complexities, studied frameworks, and lived experiences of trans people, disabled people, and people of color! Learn about what makes us similar, and what makes us different! Learn about the issues unique to each of us, and the conversations we're having about theory and systems of oppression!

I'm here for the inclusive mindset, and also, like, there's a reason people treat these things differently. Please learn.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day sixteen: femdom kink

>>> listen my toxic trait is writing a five thousand word naoya fic and using it as textual evidence that i could fix him! also pretty sure this is my first time writing dom reader and it is for the most peggable man alive. this is for the sick and depraved bitches like me <3

>>> starring: naoya zen'in x curvy!f!DOM!reader >>> cw: femdom obviously, misogyny, degradation, coercion, bondage, pegging, cowgirl, creampie, breeding, gojo is hilarious, this cures naoya! >>> wc: 5.1k >>> event masterlist

he watches you for a while. he had heard about you, and was naturally disgusted and in denial. you weren’t even from a big clan, and you’re a woman—there’s no way you were as powerful as they say. you were even on his father’s radar, he’s overheard many conversations about your promotion to special grade and how it was done much too late. you even had his father fooled. what was so hard to understand? women had no place in jujutsu sorcery. women are good for reproducing heirs–having a powerful technique only helps in that effort. in his clan, their women stay home and take care of the children and their husbands like they’re supposed to, and that’s why there wasn’t any impressive females in the work. until you came along, second only to satoru gojo, or so they say. he just had to see for himself what all the fuss was about. 

naoya leaves the zen’in compound to take a brief break from the hei. your name comes to mind, and he seethes with rage at his brain’s reminder of your heralding. how had you risen so far without a humbling? he planned to fight you himself and put you in your place since no one else was willing to do it. he knew you kept close to gojo based off of your mission reports and the way people spoke about you two. everyone assumed you would marry him someday, but naoya was also looking for a bride. perhaps he could show you his power and prove your uselessness simultaneously, if you were pretty enough. that may not even matter if satoru gojo likes you. he would do anything to knock him down a peg too, and taking his preferred spouse would be a great start. 

finding you was easy enough, as he thought it would be. you continued to field missions on your own, but if you were in between them, you were helping out around tokyo’s sorcerer school. he watches you now, sparring with a student. he folds his arms over his chest and sits down on the steps furthest away from the scene. you move with grace and fluidity, outmaneuvering the male student you were fighting, and your grin was clear to see. 

“kusakabe—quicker!” you chide, sweeping his feet out from under him suddenly, pointing your bo staff under his chin. the first year boy chuckles beneath you and shakes his head. 

“damn sensei–i’m learning, take it easy!” he huffs, getting to his feet. 

  “this is me taking it easy—i’m not even using my technique, kid.” you sigh and roll your eyes, stabbing your staff into the ground next to you. “get outta my sight. next?” the other two first years shake their head, having seen enough for one day. “no takers? go find gojo.” you jut your chin in dismissal, watching the group as they trickle inside the school. 

naoya waits until they’re gone. you feel his energy as he comes closer, but you pretend not to. what could naoya zen’in possibly be at jujutsu tech for? you’ve heard plenty about him, and none of it has been good. you imagine this had something to do with his one sided tension with gojo, and that idea humored you enough to ignore his presence in hopes he aggravated your friend some more. but he calls your name instead, and you hesitantly turn to face him. 

he smirks with shallow satisfaction upon further inspection of you. yes, it is easy to see why gojo must be fond of you. you have a pretty face, doe-like eyes and full cheeks, soft cheekbones and jaw, full lips and long eyelashes. yes, you are very beautiful in just your face alone, but he does note the hourglass shape of your figure. your full chest is restrained by that ugly school uniform you wear, but it can’t hide it. your hips are perfect for birthing heirs, and you are strong enough in foundation to handle several of them, he thinks. 

“can i help you?”  you arch your brow, cocking your hip out impatiently. he was busy drooling, and you wonder if naoya has ever seen a woman before. “would you like a picture?” 

your voice brings him back to the matters at hand. he looks unamused, “unfortunately i’m not another one of your adoring fans.” 

“really? could have fooled me. what do you need then?” you tease, tilting your head to the side in confusion. you don’t fool him though, he can hear that matronly tone to your voice. look at you, already trying to cater to his needs. 

“i want to fight you. and then i want to marry you.” he states confidently, mirroring your tilted head out of amusement, though it’s you that starts laughing. his brows furrow in response. 

“are you being serious?” you titter, covering your shocked mouth with your hand. “such an interesting proposal, traditionally men court their potential brides.” you tease him again, now poking at the nature of his clan. but you don’t say no, and that interests him more than the attitude he’ll quickly put into place. 

“you’re far too boisterous for a woman. i’ll beat you, and then i’ll take you as my wife.” he explains simply, tucking his hands into the pockets of his robe. you’re entertained grin doesn’t falter, and he’s astounded by you. most women flounder and argue with him or they stick their noses in the air and just ignore him, but you…you were nodding. 

“deal. and when i beat you, i’ll take you as my husband.” you smirk, knowing exactly how to put this over idealistic man in his place, which just so happened to be under your control. 

“what?” he sneers, confusion evident. why on earth would you make the stakes the same even if you won? 

you shrug a little and examine him the same way he looked over you. he was tall and handsome, a bit more muscle bound than gojo with feline features. having a zen’in would be nice too, you think, smiling to yourself. “you’re a sexy little thing, i wouldn’t mind making you my husband.” you shrug, securing your hair. he was no first-year kusakabe, you knew you’d need your technique on him. 

he can feel heat sting at his face when you say that, having assumed he would need to try much harder to earn the fight and your agreement to marry him. you’re attracted to him already? 

“you gonna fight or you gonna stand there and catch flies?” you hum, cursed technique active already. you know his, but he does not know yours. he snaps back into it, feeling weirdly competitive not only in showing off his power and the value he would have as a mate, but to beat your peacocking. 

he huffs, rolling his eyes at you and jumping into action, clearly waiting on you to attack. you’ll bite, knowing he doesn’t understand the scope of your abilities. you throw your left hand out to release millions of threads. your cursed threads are so tiny they’re almost unnoticeable, and he thinks you’ve walked right into his trap. he uses his technique to phase out of your way, but not before you toss your right hand out and catch him in your webs. you smile, wrapping him up in the spider-like spins like an ant about to be eaten by the black widow. 

“looks like this fight is over, husband!” you cheer, crediting your extensive knowledge on his technique as the winning edge. had the fight been more even, perhaps it would have lasted longer. he looks down at you with a mixture of shock, disgust and…arousal? 

“when will we have the wedding?” you hum, tapping your chin in mock-thought. “i’m thinking the end of the month should give you plenty of time?” you grin, watching him squirm against your threads. you release your technique to spare him some pride. “assuming our deal is still on?” 

he has to have your power for his children. as he’s said before, the sin of the insignificant is the ignorance of true strength, and while he may not be quick to accept his defeat, he’s able to move into the vein of the potential you would bring him as a spouse. you would never fight again, you would never need to, but truly he had never seen someone like you before—male or female. embarrassment settles over his features, and he’ll make it a point to control your mouthiness after this wedding. 

“the end of the month will do. come to the estate by noon.” he looks over your cocky disposition and nearly seethes again, but the bigger picture is clear–so he has to put these feelings of confusion and shame aside for now, so he can reach his goals. 

you chuckle fondly. “i’d like to be married here, i think. i was the winner, no?” your cunning smirk makes his eyes narrow as he agrees. 

“fine.” he dismisses with an eye roll, leaving jujutsu tech’s school grounds with his mind a jumbled mess. you were everything he hates. a loud-mouthed woman who thinks she’s powerful enough to play with the big dogs. but… it seems you can. it isn’t all talk, you are extremely powerful…and you beat him. and he doesn’t hate that you did. in fact, watching you handle him without a sweat made him wonder if even toji would be able to handle you. what did that mean for him all of a sudden?

the wedding is lovely given the time constraints the planning was under, even though the guests in attendance are very confused and unapproving. kusakabe even approaches to make sure gojo didn’t dare you to do this. the zen’in clan comes in limited numbers, though they seem pleased with his ‘choice’ in bride. satoru walks you down the aisle—something he begged to do simply for the pleasure of putting your hand in naoya’s and leaning in to his ear to whisper. 

“good luck. you asked for this, remember that.” he chuckles, clapping him on his back before returning to his seat. naoya thinks about his words for the rest of the ceremony, even when he gets distracted by your perky chest and bright smile. he wonders just what he’s in for as you drag him along with you, his pride commanding him to straighten up and get it together as he makes it a point to match your pace. you chuckle at his neediness, and that won’t be the last time you do so. 

“so husband. did you enjoy your wedding?” you ask, walking him towards your residence only a mile or so away. he chuffs at your eagerness, the conflicting feelings in his gut telling him to be as petty as possible. he turns his head to the side and shrugs. 

“it was a wedding.” he says in non-answer, very immersed in the details of the trees all of a sudden. you hum, still holding his hand firmly. 

“aw, don’t be shy now, it’s just us!” you cheer, veering down a path that would take you towards your house. “personally, i enjoyed it. you look very handsome.” you practically coo, and his heart jumps at your tone. god this was insufferable. but he loves it. 

“it was..nice. zen’in’s would have done it bigger.” 

“and did you want it to be bigger?” you respond, and the sincerity in your question makes him wonder what he does actually want and like. he has always had everything except a connection, and maybe that was his own doing, a product of his environment—but still. you made him think. and after a few precious moments of silence reflecting on it, he doesn’t think he would have liked the ceremony his clan typically performs, nor everyone being there. he doesn’t much care for any one of them at all, so why would he have them at his wedding?

“actually. no.”  he squares his shoulders and straightens his back, seeing a humble little house come into view. “is this..?”

“my house. welcome home.” you smile and push the door open for him. he furrows his brows and cocks his jaw in confusion. “what? you’re my house husband now. close your mouth, sweetheart.” you hum, leaning over and physically shutting his mouth for him. 

“house husband?!” he erupts, his face turning bright red as you drag him into the house. why doesn’t he just fight you back, stop you? is it because he knows he can’t win? that realization alone makes him yank his hand out of your grip and stop in his tracks. you bat your eyes at him expectantly, knowing you had a little brat on your hands. 

“mhm,” you nod, a little grin tugging at your lips. you step closer, balancing your arms on his shoulders and playing with your fingers where they connect. “i made you my husband, silly boy. so i’ll keep running missions and you’ll shut up and do what i tell you to.” you tilt your head to one side, admiring the surprise and rage glimmering in his sharp brown eyes. “doesn’t that sound good?” 

you bring your hands back to his slender shoulders, trailing the touch to his pecs. he opens his mouth to speak, absolutely stunned. never in his entire life had anyone, male or female, ever spoken to him with such brazenness. his cheeks warm with color. no way he was enjoying this. is this what it felt like to be…submissive? his eyes narrow at you in the confusion, but he only sees that same angelic face and divine body, and he doesn’t think he can argue with the notion that obeying you might have its upsides. 

“and right now, i want you to follow me. time for the house tour!” you clap enthusiastically and tilt your head for him to follow you. he does, until he notices you’ve stopped by the bathroom. you lean against the doorway and gesture to the room. “the bathroom of course. you’ll clean this on mondays, should be pretty clean already. i have good hygiene.” 

his eyes widened a little bit once more. you were deadly serious, meaning for him to clean the house while you continued your job as a sorcerer. you move onto the kitchen with a smug grin. his feet move a little more reluctantly this time. you open the cabinet with all the cleaning supplies. “the kitchen should really stay clean. i’ll help you learn—i’m not heartless.” you chuckle to yourself as he folds his arms across his chest. 

you’re worse than heartless. you have to be the devil herself with all of this. you’re a siren at the least, so beautiful he really hadn’t processed all you were demanding of him until now, and he huffs and rolls his eyes at your remark. you smile sweetly still, unphased. 

“you just need a little time to get used to it, is all.” you hum, walking off towards your bedroom. you flip the lights on and make for your bed. he watches you take a seat, the short kimono you wore riding up your delicious thighs at the action. he was losing the plot, he just needed to take control. all women are submissive in the bedroom. “this of course is my room. if you’re a good boy you’ll get to sleep in here with me.” you titter, scrunching your nose at your own humor. 

“you forget yourself, woman. i’ll be the head of the zen’in clan in just a few years.” he scoffs, looking over your seductive positioning with a nod of approval. he enjoyed your attitude, he thinks, he’s sure it will make your sweet cries of his name that much more memorable. 

“the only one forgetting their place is you, husband.” you cross your arms over your chest, that arrogant smile still mocking him. “you can still be their little head as long as you keep my house clean and my bed warm.” 

oh that does it. you’re so patronizing, so demeaning—he stomps over to you, reaching to grab your face. you allow it for entertainment’s sake, looking up at him with big doe-eyes that almost made him forget why he was angry in the first place. but that smirk reappears, and he squeezes your face in frustration. “i’m not cleaning shit. you’re my bitch. you should be honored to be my wife. take your clothes off and shut your mouth.” he releases his hold, waiting for you to obey. 

and to his amazement, you do. you stand up and remove your kimono, watching him the entire time. the fabric falls to the floor and naoya is drowning in your curves and the lusty look in your eyes. you smile at his reaction, eyes trailing to his still-clothed form. even in his haze he understands you, pushing his robes off and wrestling with the string holding his hakama in place. all the blood rushes to his cock as he processes that it worked—you were just giving him a hard time after all, and he’d get his way as always. 

as soon as he’s fully naked, your threads are tied around him again. his eyes widen at the sight of your silvery silken yarns circling his waist and pulling him to the bed. you stand, moving out of your own way as you smile sickeningly at him. 

“wh—what are you doing?” he blinks rapidly, unable to break free of the strong web you were spinning him into. you position him on his back, legs strapped to the mattress and hands tied together above his head. 

“what’s it look like, husband?” you ask innocently, crawling over him like a lioness stalking her prey. he can see the real devious desire in your eyes now, and he gulps. he should have known you wouldn’t give in that easily. “you look so much better like this, you know.” you hum, extending a hand to finger-walk over his abs. the slight touch makes him jump and his cheeks warm. 

“you’re evil.” he hisses, fighting his restraints if for no other reason than to not focus on your soft fingers brushing against his skin. you giggle at him. 

“hardly, babe.” you chuckle, admiring the slight panic and deep arousal in his eyes. “pretend you hate it all you want. i see through you.” you lick your teeth, grinning at his proud length standing tall before you. “your mouth ruins everything though.” you sigh, ghosting your fingernails over his thighs. the touch makes his cock jump this time. 

“what does that even mean?” he huffs, annoyed at how his body responds to your taunting. 

“means you’re sexy, strong, and have a huge dick.” you deadpan, eyeing the good seven inches he presents you, curved and pretty with a cute pink tip. “but your loud, arrogant, disrespectful mouth ruins it.” you further, fingertips dancing along the insides of his thighs. it’s annoying—just enough to stir butterflies in his stomach but not even close to providing pleasure. your hands are so close to his dick, you could just wrap your hand around him and make everything better. he takes his bottom lip between his teeth, too focused on your teasing to hear your words. you trace his hip bones, humming a little. it tickles in the way that he wants more, so he grunts his dissatisfaction. 

you take your hands off him completely, looking at him with a raised brow. he huffs, almost pouting as he looks at you. 

“what are you doing now?” he groans, yanking at his ties in an effort to get you to touch him again. it’s pathetic. you haven’t even really done anything, but his dick already hurts. 

“don’t complain or you won’t get touched at all, kay? you better learn how to put this pride away or you’ll stay wanting.” you threaten, and he knows from your track record that you’re all too serious. he opens his mouth to protest, but you touch him again and he snaps his jaw shut. now your fingers target his chest, feather-light strokes over his nipples or light scratches across his pecs as he’s left helpless, only able to watch your naked body torture his from between his legs. he didn’t know he was so sensitive, but as your touches grow heavier, his eyes fall shut from the pleasure of his stinging chest. 

you can’t tear your eyes away from his leaking slit. it’s starting to drool down his shaft, and you’re giddy from the high, thighs rubbing together at the sight of him unraveling. he’s trying to repress ragged breaths and pathetic moans, but your pinching and tweaking his nipples had him fighting every wave of enjoyment. he can’t help the raspy groan he lets out when you lean over to kiss him. 

it was too short. you sit right back up as soon as he sounds off, and his brow furrows again. “already told you, baby.” you tsk. “gotta get a handle on that mouth if you wanna get fucked tonight.” you hum, picking your words carefully. 

he nods, straightening up against the headboard as much as possible. he doesn’t care, your touch is driving him crazy. he needs relief, and at this point he would do anything to cum. “would you like that? for me to fuck you?” you ask, hands back to squeezing his biceps and shoulders. 

he nods drunkenly again, frowning as he feels you shift away from him. his head snaps over to watch you once he hears the sound of shuffling in your bedside table, mouth gaping as he sees you pull out a glittery pink dildo attached to a black strap. he nearly chokes. you giggle. 

“what, change your mind all a sudden?” he nods rapidly, focused on the size of it, not quite as long as his actual dick but considerably thicker. you tsk again and pilfer for the lube. “i thought you wanted to cum?” 

“i do!” he says with haste. “you just can’t use that on—”

“mkay.” you sigh, sitting back in your spot with the materials beside you. “i’ll ask again in ten minutes.” 

his face contorts at your nonchalance, but once again you keep him from back talking. your slender hand closes around his shaft and his breath is ripped from his chest. luckily, you don’t take that as a sound large enough to stop, your grip sending electricity through his body. his pre leaks onto your hand as you pump him, so you collect it with a few of your other fingers. he watches with parted lips and red cheeks, heart dropping when he realizes you were moving toward his ass. 

you rub your fingers around the puckered hole, slathering the surface with all the precum naoya had produced from your endless teasing. while your other hand slowly strokes his cock, your other experiments lower, a finger slipping into the tight ring. he whimpers at the feeling, tightening around your digit as you lock eyes. you grin, nodding encouragement. you didn’t want to be too nice—he didn’t deserve it, but it was better than starting from scratch if he started bitching. 

your pumps match the pace around his cock and he slowly loosens up for you. you stay focused, giving him another finger and milking the pre from his cock with the tight grip your hand had on him. his lip is nearly bleeding from how hard he bites into it, and you giggle. 

“just tell me when you’re ready for the strap, baby boy.” you hum, eyes a little frenzied from the state he was in. it was all too exciting to be the one to humble naoya zen’in, but you were growing a bit needy at the same time. “it’ll feel so good. you know that’s where your g spot is? bet you didn’t. you zen’in boys are always so uptight.” 

he blinks harshly, only mild protests even coming to mind as the hot sweat of need coats his body. he has to have more. your fingers already felt unreasonably good…but if what you said is true, he supposes there is a reason. his chest heaves as he argues with himself, feeling you shove a third finger in him convinces him to nod vigorously. 

“yes what, husband? i need words, i’m just a dumb bitch.” you snicker, lightly flicking his balls and giggling when he jumps. he grunts again, feline eyes sliding over to the toy on the bed. “g-go ahead..” 

you shake your head, withdrawing all touch. he feels so empty and frustrated he could cry. “better words. don’t you wanna cum?” 

“in you.” he replies, and you hum with a pleased little smile. 

“that can be arranged if you can learn how to beg like a good boy.” you squeeze his thigh, the only link he has to your warm hands that only make him dizzy for more. he narrows his eyes, knowing that you’re only punishing him for his treatment of you, but he hates how much he loves it. he hates how easy all the words you want to hear come to mind, but also he doesn’t at all. he’s insane with need and would jump off of a bridge if you told him to right now. 

“god, just fuck me already–please.” his voice shakes out before his eyes clench shut so he doesn’t have to see you laugh, but to his surprise, you growl a little bit. he opens his eyes, finding you adjusting the strap to fit your wide hips hastily. you fumble around with the lube, trying to see what he would look like taking you. you liked what he said, and he wanted to hear you make your own noises, so he keeps going. “you’re stupid gorgeous, the only person i’d ever let do this–” 

you can’t deny the ego boost that gives you as you direct the tip towards his hole. “it’s cold, i know. you’ll get used to it princess.” you giggle, shoving the tip in and pausing to let him adjust. “i’m so nice—could just give you all of it at once and tear this pretty ass up.” 

he tenses every muscle in his body, the foreign object stretching him open burned and stung, but the ball of heat in his stomach only grew as your hips gently rolled to ease more in and start a pace. he gradually relaxes, sounds of pleasure rolling out of his pouty lips. thankfully, you don’t stop. you brace your hands on his abs and watch his face screw up in enjoyment. 

“see? i told you that you’d like it.” you grunt, voice wavering from the force you’re using to plow into him. “cute little house husband, i think it’s what you were made for, baby.” you snicker, huffing at the way the fabric of the belt you’re wearing rubs up against your unattended clit. 

he can only offer a nod as a reply, this was like nothing he had ever experienced, mouth dropped and eyes blissfully closed. his cock still aches from the lack of attention, but it almost adds to the delight of your hips smacking his. you release the threads around his legs, shoving them to his chest and giggling at the esteemed naoya zen’in, your husband, beneath you in a mating press taking your glittery pink cock. he whimpers at the new angle, so deep he’s writhing against the sheets. 

it’s a gorgeous sound, his deep-but-posh voice reduced to breathy whimpers and moans, leaky cock making a mess out of both of you. “don’t get too boisterous, little bitch.” he moans louder, either from your nasty words or to defy you, and either way you drop his legs and slide out of his ass. he’s whimpering at the loss until he feels you grab his cock. his eyes fly open to watch you hover over him, plunging onto his length once you get the angle just right. his dick jumps immediately, your cunt too warm, wet, and tight for him to handle after all your bullying. he shudders and shakes his head. 

“what? embarrassed?” you say with a little whine to your commanding voice, adjusting to his impressive size sitting against your womb. you’re panting already, mostly from all your hard work—but the need to cum is fogging your brain too. you drop all the threads around his wrists except one, directing the hand to your swollen nerve bundle before you trap the other hand again. “then rub my pussy and make me cum with you.” 

you pick your ass up and drop down again, taking him so nice and deep each time he doesn’t even try to muffle the grunts and groans flowing from him. he follows your order, thumbing at your clit as you abuse his cock, waiting to feel the flutter of your pussy to tell him to bust. “don’t even think about it, bitch.” 

he chokes a bit, looking up at your knowing face. “can feel ya twitching. you’ll cum when i tell you to.” he nods, rubbing at you fervently. you are the goddess he thought you were, but you’re also the devil in disguise, and he’s so in love it's ridiculous, demeaning, and everything he deserves for never realizing the power that a woman could have over him—or period. 

“there we go, there’s hope for you after all.” you hum at his obedience, feeling the tension building in your cunt. he watches you closely, his face still overcome with satisfaction and bi-colored hair messily strewn about his forehead. he fills you up so nicely, and his complete surrender does more to you than his dick. “go ahead and fill me up, my good boy. see if i can give you an heir.” you chortle, abusing his desires for your own twisted game. he can’t live with that, the idea of impregnating you means more than before. he knows it’s the highest compliment he’ll get, and it’s because he knows your allowance means everything. he’s spurting before you can finish your sentence, but you don’t mind, following over the edge seconds later. he’s so pretty when he finishes, whimpering loud and watching your face for approval. your lips are parted and your eyes closed, but you nod anyway. you must feel him looking.  you open your eyes and smile softly, swinging your leg off of him and leaving him tied up while you get yourself all cleaned up. he’s mush, thoughts and heart racing as he waits patiently for you to come back with a warm towel to clean him up and release your webs. so unlike him, but he’s hardly angry—he’s wondering what you want him to clean tomorrow.

[cool-fancier]

A Drive to Remember

Synopsis: A casual drive home turns into a whirlwind of passion and desire as you and Bada explore the undeniable chemistry between you, culminating in a kiss that ignites a newfound love.

Word Count: 2.7K

The dance studio buzzed with energy as you made your way through the crowded room, the sound of music filling the air like a symphony of dreams. Dancers twirled and spun, their movements fluid and graceful, each step a testament to their passion and dedication.

You had been working tirelessly on a new choreography, pouring your heart and soul into every movement, every beat of the music. It was a labor of love, a creation that you hoped would captivate audiences and leave them breathless with its beauty and power.

As you watched the dancers rehearse, a sense of pride swelled within you. They moved with such precision and grace, each step a testament to their talent and dedication. And amidst the sea of swirling bodies, there was one dancer who caught your eye – Bada.

She moved with a grace and fluidity that took your breath away, her movements a mesmerizing blend of strength and elegance. It was as if she was born to dance, her body moving in perfect harmony with the music, each step executed with precision and finesse.

"Wow," you breathed, unable to tear your eyes away from her mesmerizing performance. There was something about Bada that drew you in, a magnetic pull that tugged at your heartstrings and left you longing for more.

A voice beside you chuckled softly, and you turned to see your friend Ling grinning at you. "I see you've got your eye on Bada," she teased, nudging you playfully.

You blushed furiously, trying to play it cool. "I-I just admire her talent, that's all," you stammered, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

Ling raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Uh-huh, sure you do," she said, a knowing glint in her eye. "Well, you better make your move soon before someone else snatches her up."

As Ling walked away, you couldn't shake the feeling of butterflies in your stomach. Maybe she was right – maybe it was time to take a chance and see where this newfound attraction would lead.

The rest of the rehearsal passed in a blur, your mind consumed with thoughts of Bada and the undeniable chemistry you shared. And as the dancers dispersed for the evening, you found yourself lingering in the studio, unable to tear yourself away from the memory of her graceful movements.

As you stood there, lost in thought, you heard footsteps approaching from behind. You turned to see Bada standing there, a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"Hey," she said softly, her voice like music to your ears.

"Hey," you replied, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins.

Bada stepped closer, her eyes searching yours with a mixture of curiosity and warmth. "I couldn't help but notice you watching me during rehearsal," she said, a hint of playfulness in her tone.

You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you couldn't deny the truth of her words. "I-I couldn't help it," you admitted, feeling a surge of bravery coursing through you. "You're an incredible dancer, Bada. You have this...this energy about you that's just...mesmerizing."

Bada's smile widened at your words, and you felt a flutter of anticipation in your chest. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something special – a love story written in the stars, destined to unfold in ways you never thought possible.

— — — — — — —

As the days turned into weeks, you found yourself drawn to Bada like a moth to a flame. Every interaction with her left you feeling alive, buzzing with excitement and anticipation for what the future might hold. And as you spent more time together, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between you – something electric and undeniable.

It started innocently enough – casual conversations in the studio, shared laughter over lunch, stolen glances across the dance floor. But with each passing day, the connection between you and Bada grew stronger, until it felt like there was an invisible thread tying your hearts together.

You tried to ignore it at first, telling yourself that it was just a fleeting attraction – a passing fancy that would soon fade away. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months, you couldn't deny the truth any longer – you were falling for Bada, hard and fast.

It was a realization that both thrilled and terrified you. Thrilled because you had never felt this way about anyone before, and terrified because you had no idea how Bada felt in return. What if she didn't feel the same way? What if your confession ruined your friendship and destroyed everything you had worked so hard to build?

But despite your fears, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something between you and Bada – something worth exploring, worth fighting for. And so, you made a decision – a decision to lay your heart on the line and see where this newfound attraction would lead.

It was a decision that would change everything.

---

The dance studio was alive with energy as you and Bada worked together on a new choreography, the music pulsing through the speakers as you moved in perfect harmony. It was moments like these that made you feel alive – the rush of adrenaline, the thrill of creation, the undeniable chemistry between you and Bada.

As you danced together, you couldn't help but notice the way Bada's eyes sparkled with excitement, the way her smile lit up her face with a radiant glow. It was as if she was truly in her element, lost in the music and the movement, her passion shining through in every step.

"You're amazing," you murmured, unable to tear your eyes away from her mesmerizing performance.

Bada grinned at you, her cheeks flushed with exertion. "Thanks, but I couldn't do it without you," she replied, her voice soft and sincere.

You felt a surge of warmth flood your chest at her words, a sense of pride swelling within you. It was moments like these that made you realize just how much you admired and respected Bada – not just as a dancer, but as a person.

And as the two of you danced together, lost in the music and the movement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of intimacy and connection that went beyond words. It was as if you were communicating on a deeper level – a level that transcended the physical and touched the very essence of your souls.

But amidst the joy and excitement of the moment, there was also an undercurrent of tension – a tension that you couldn't ignore no matter how hard you tried. It was as if the air crackled with electricity whenever you and Bada were together, a palpable energy that left you breathless with anticipation.

And as you stole glances at each other across the dance floor, you couldn't help but wonder if Bada felt it too – if she sensed the same magnetic pull that drew you to her like a moth to a flame. It was a question that weighed heavily on your mind, filling you with both hope and trepidation as you danced through the night together.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the exhilaration of the moment. Because in that moment, as you and Bada moved together in perfect harmony, nothing else mattered – not the doubts, not the fears, not the uncertainties that lay ahead.

All that mattered was the here and now – the music, the movement, and the undeniable connection that bound you and Bada together in a dance of love and passion. And as you danced together under the watchful gaze of the stars, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together – with love, laughter, and a bond that could never be broken.

— — — — — — —

As the days passed, the tension between you and Bada continued to grow, the unspoken attraction simmering just beneath the surface. It was a feeling that both thrilled and terrified you, leaving you unsure of how to proceed.

But amidst the uncertainty, there was one thing you were certain of – your feelings for Bada were stronger than ever, and you couldn't shake the feeling that she felt the same way. And so, you made a decision – a decision to lay your heart on the line and see where this newfound attraction would lead.

---

It was a warm summer evening when Bada approached Ling, her heart pounding in her chest as she gathered her courage. She had been wrestling with her feelings for you for weeks, unsure of how to proceed. But now, as she stood before Ling, she knew that she couldn't keep her emotions bottled up any longer.

"Ling, can I talk to you for a moment?" Bada asked, her voice trembling slightly.

Ling looked up from her phone, a curious expression on her face. "Of course, Bada. What's on your mind?"

Bada took a deep breath, steeling herself for what was to come. "It's about Y/N," she began, her voice hesitant. "I...I think I might have feelings for her."

Ling's eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly recovered, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her lips. "I thought as much," she replied, her tone teasing. "You and Y/N have been dancing around each other for weeks now. It's about time one of you made a move."

Bada blushed furiously, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over her. "I-I just don't know how she feels about me," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ling reached out to squeeze Bada's hand gently, a reassuring smile on her face. "Don't worry, Bada. I'm sure Y/N feels the same way about you," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "But if you want to be sure, why not ask her out on a date?"

Bada's heart skipped a beat at the suggestion, her mind racing with possibilities. Could it really be that simple? Could she just ask you out and hope for the best?

As she pondered Ling's words, a sense of determination washed over her. She had spent far too long hiding her feelings, afraid of what might happen if she let her guard down. But now, with Ling's encouragement, she knew that it was time to take a chance – to lay her heart on the line and see where this newfound attraction would lead.

And so, with a newfound sense of purpose, Bada set out to plan the most romantic date she could imagine – a date that would capture the essence of her feelings for you and leave no doubt in your mind about her intentions.

---

It was a crisp autumn evening when you received a text message from Bada, inviting you to meet her at your favorite café for a special surprise. Intrigued, you eagerly accepted, your heart fluttering with anticipation as you made your way to the designated meeting spot.

As you arrived at the café, you were greeted by the sight of Bada sitting at a secluded table near the window, a warm smile on her face. She looked radiant, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she beckoned you over.

"Hey there, stranger," she greeted, her voice soft and inviting. "I'm so glad you could make it."

You returned her smile, feeling a surge of affection wash over you. "I wouldn't miss it for the world," you replied, taking a seat opposite her.

Bada's smile widened at your words, and for a moment, the two of you simply sat in comfortable silence, savoring the moment. But as the minutes ticked by, a sense of anticipation filled the air, leaving you both on edge with excitement.

And then, just as you were about to ask what the surprise was, Bada reached into her bag and pulled out a small velvet box, her hands trembling slightly.

"I-I have something for you," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the box, your mind racing with possibilities. Could it be what you thought it was? Could Bada be about to ask you the question you had been longing to hear?

With trembling hands, you reached out and took the box from her, your fingers brushing against hers in a moment of electrifying intimacy. And as you opened the box and saw what was inside, your breath caught in your throat – a delicate ring, glittering in the soft glow of the café lights.

"I-I know we've been dancing around each other for weeks now, unsure of how to proceed," Bada began, her voice trembling with emotion. "But I can't ignore the way I feel about you any longer, Y/N. I love you, more than words can say, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend?"

Tears welled up in your eyes at her heartfelt confession, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. "Yes, Bada," you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. "Yes, a thousand times yes."

And as the two of you sealed your newfound love with a tender kiss, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together – with love, laughter, and a bond that could never be broken.

— — — — — — —

The sun dipped low on the horizon as you stepped out of the dance studio, your muscles aching from a long day of rehearsals. But despite the exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs, your spirits soared at the thought of spending the evening with Bada.

As you made your way to the parking lot, you spotted her waiting for you by her luxurious car, the sleek lines of the vehicle gleaming in the fading light. She leaned against the car, a playful smirk playing at the corners of her lips as she watched you approach.

"Hey there, gorgeous," she greeted, her voice husky with desire. "Ready for a ride?"

You felt a flush of warmth spread through you at her words, a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. "Always," you replied, unable to tear your eyes away from her captivating gaze.

As you settled into the passenger seat, Bada slid into the driver's seat beside you, her eyes focused on the road ahead. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with the promise of what was to come.

But as you stole glances at each other, you couldn't help but notice the tension crackling in the air, a palpable energy that left you breathless with anticipation. And when Bada's hand brushed against your thigh, you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you, igniting a fire deep within your soul.

You chuckled softly at her sudden shyness, unable to resist the urge to tease her. "What's the matter, baby? Cat got your tongue?" you teased, your voice laced with affection.

Bada blushed furiously at your playful banter, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I-I just...I didn't mean to," she stammered, her words trailing off into a nervous mumble.

But before she could say another word, you reached out and took her hand, placing it back on your thigh. You crossed your legs, pressing her hand firmly between them, relishing the warmth of her touch against your skin.

"B-baby, what are you doing?" Bada stammered, her eyes wide with surprise.

You grinned wickedly, your heart pounding with excitement. "Just enjoying the ride," you replied, your voice dripping with seduction.

Bada's cheeks flushed even deeper at your boldness, her heart racing with desire. And as you leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek, she couldn't help but feel a surge of longing wash over her.

But then, without warning, Bada pulled the car over to the side of the road, her eyes dark with desire as she turned to face you. And before you could react, she captured your lips in a searing kiss that left you breathless and dizzy with desire.

It was a moment of pure, unbridled passion – a moment that seemed to stretch on for eternity as you lost yourselves in each other's embrace. And as the world faded away around you, all that mattered was the electrifying connection between you and Bada – a connection that could never be denied.

And as you finally pulled away, gasping for breath, you knew that this was just the beginning of your journey together – a journey filled with love, laughter, and a bond that would last a lifetime.

[punkpandapatrixk]

✨THAT GIRL ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

‘I know everything has its time and you cannot compete with destiny, is what I say. What I thought I wanted when I was younger, it wasn’t my time to have. I wanted to work with Calvin Klein—I did the fashion shows but I never did the ads. So it took me 34 years to do an ad. And, I said, “Okay. It’s okay. That’s my time.”’ – Naomi Campbell

Hey, Gorgeous~♥︎

Why do I get the feeling your fabulous era is coming fast? There’s this thing with Divine Timing, you know. As you work daily on yourself to become a vibrational match to your D E S T I N Y✨ the time will come when the world is ready to witness your S P A R K L E S✨

Your Light is needed by this world, in whatever capacity you feel a resonance with and in whatever fashion you find most exciting! We each have our divine time to be seen and heard. We can’t rush the caterpillar to grow into a butterfly, right? Often, there’s a painstaking process there. So what to do in the meantime? Become THAT GIRL you’ve always known yourself to be🌷

Who are you at the core of your being, Girl? Basically, if you nurture aspects of yourself that feel natural to you, you’ll discover that the key to your Destiny has always been in your hand. You just need to explore your potentials, experiment with yourself, test your limits and expand your horizon until you find the DOOR that’s the right fit for your key🚪🗝️

Live for yourself. Do whatever you wanna do and find yourself in the midst of novelty and temptation. So that you find your UNIQUE strength from within.

All in Divine Timing. Your fabulous era is coming~🦋

SONG: ♥︎Lonely in Gorgeous♥︎ by Tommy february6

SERIES: Paradise Kiss (2005)

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 2]

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Pile 1 – That Happy-Go-Lucky Girl

VIBE: Hot Summer by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 8 of Pentacles Rx

ADMIT IT. You loathe the idea of ‘hard work’. Gosh, the world is full of wonders and humanity has found a way to invent boredom and be depressed! You are definitely a Faery Soul. You have a unique, more sensitive point of view which causes the whole notion of ‘hard work’ to get over your head. Why work and not just play? Why is it so impossible for people to embrace lightheartedness and just, BE, happy? You just want to dip yourself in pastel glitter all day long.

For one, you’re definitely a rebel—whatever your style may be. You have so little regard for rules if you’re being honest. If anything, you make your own rules after careful testing and experimentation. That’s what you do with fashion as well. Fashion is fickle, but style is forever. And to you, there can be more than one style that you can call your own. You don’t like to limit yourself when it comes to things you can do, try or wear.

You can be like a chameleon and you love that fluidity/flexibility of yours. But on top of that, you’re also transformative. You’re a highly creative soul who has a penchant for reinventing your personal brand over and over again. You’re the brazen type that can rock ANY style and people still say, ‘That’s totally THAT GIRL’S style no matter what she does/wears!’ You possess a really strong, magnetic, energy signature.

path of least resistance – 8 of Wands Rx

Your aenergy is reminding me of famous rebels of Harajuku. Harajuku is a tiny, tiny, tiny patch of the entire fabric of Japanese society, but the creative souls who dwell there exude such POWERFUL aura. Exactly because they have a rebellious energetic signature that they express rather unapologetically😊

These are the rebels who know they’re meant to carve out a lifestyle of their own in the midst of Japan’s disgusting policy of conformity. The 8 of Wands in reverse here is literally representing the notion of a koi fish that swims upstream to become a dragon… or something like that. This is a Kafkaesque energy! You go the other way, baby—don’t follow the crowd because even they don’t know where they’ll end up!

The more you try to conform and follow what everyone else is doing, the more miserable and unlucky you become! Because doing so is against the policy of your Faery Soul’s authenticity. Whatever line of occupation you are interested in—genuinely interested in—I just know you’re meant to do your ‘job’ playfully, creatively, lightheartedly, passionately, and BEAUTIFULLY. Whatever you do, it’s pointless if you’re not surrounded by BEAUTY.

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – King of Swords Rx

Ay ay, don’t use too much logic, babe. You’re magic🧚🏻‍♀️Your intuition is more reliable than your intellect, trust yourself on this one. You possess this peculiar type of intelligence that is fuelled by passion from your heart. That said, your gut instinct is also that much stronger than your capacity for cognitive calculation. Hope that makes sense. You are essentially an otherworldly being. Though you may often feel like you’re a chaotic pile of confusion because of that.

Actually, you have spidey senses that help you notice a lot of things all at once and you don’t always know how to explain that. You just, absorb so much information from visual cues, auditory cues, and other invisible cues you pick up from the collective or aether. There’s always so much going on inside you because of this. But you’re just processing all of that information, so don’t worry, you’re not as chaotic as you think😆This is a SUPERPOWER!

You just need time to learn to accept this superpower and use it to your advantage. Didn’t Peter Parker also go through some hardships in the beginning? Before he knew how to use his new mutant powers? Yeah, something like that. Go do your weird shit and be a maverick. That’s how you become a vibrational match to your SPARKLY DESTINY🌟

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💗

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Enchantment

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Divination

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Pile 2 – That NU IT Girl

VIBE: LA chA TA by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 10 of Wands Rx

With you, there’s a strong energy of a debutante girl who kinda just popped out of nowhere, springing forth from obscurity. The reality though, is that you worked really hard to grow into this new IT GIRL in town. Your hustle tends to be unseen by others. I’m guessing you have significant placements in the 8th House and 12th House; or those energies ruled by Scorpio/Pluto and Pisces/Neptune.

I think you genuinely like it that way though. Keep ‘em guessing, is your motto. It’s entertaining to you when people can’t figure out how you’re, YOU. Let the mystery of your growth keep ‘em speculating. You love it when people can’t stop talking about you. You don’t even mind the gossip. As long as all attention is on you~ You’ve got the whole world wrapped around your fingers~

You gravitate towards luxury and you love trends. It’s like, following trends is the only way you feel like you still belong to the Human Race. Unless you do so, you feel left out because you’re a real hustler HAHAH You tend to isolate yourself to study and work on building your empire. Though you may seem shallow to those who just know you on a surface level, I think pretending to be normal like this exhausts the living shit out of you.

path of least resistance – IX The Hermit Rx

You’re probably more spiritually attuned than you let out. Especially if you have significant 8th House/Scorpio or 12th House/Pisces qualities to you. Because of this, you tend to be a hermit, enjoying doing your own thing at your pace. Your inner world is more interesting than the outer world full of shallow and stupid people. You can’t stand that their ambitions are so tiny LMAO

However, it does seem like you can sometimes get obsessive with your studies or work. This is giving me that vibe of someone who’s become so comfortable in the darkness they get blinded once the curtains are lifted. You remind me of Sherlock Holmes played by Robert Downey Jr. A smart, calculating, strategizing weirdo who isn’t that great at social settings🤣

Of all the Piles, you seem the least in need of this kind of reading—because you already have a strong sense of self. You seem to me like you have your identity established already. You’re clear about your likes and interests and these aren’t going to change easily. I think this is partly why you can be into trends—all for you to feel like you’re less boring. Hahah I don’t think you’re boring; you’re timeless, babe✨

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – 7 of Wands

With your heightened sense of class and timelessness, you could be prone to envy and jealousy, right? You’re essentially someone who’s incredibly blessed, on top of that, you’re hard working. It’s only natural so much good fortune is bestowed upon you. You’re a go-getter. You aren’t afraid to claim your prizes. And I think you should honour and protect this with your life.

Having said that, I still get this feeling that your Higher Self wants you to share your burdens with someone trustworthy. If you could surround yourself with a tiny inner circle of Soul Friends, that’d be more than enough. It’s good to have a few friends you can count on. But if your trust has been broken and your faith wounded, this could take some time to heal, so that’s also understandable.

The most important thing is that you never settle for less in your friendships and even business relationships. You don’t have to ask for much; you just need to ask for what’s true. I have a feeling when you’re older you will be blessed with amazing rendezvous with a bunch of your Soul Family. Until then, enjoy shining on your own terms. You’re IT~

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻🧡

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Prosperity

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Faith

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Pile 3 – That Transcendent Alien Girl

VIBE: NU ABO by f(x)

the most UNIQUE thing about you, babe – 5 of Pentacles Rx

As per usual, Pile 3 often carries an alien vibe—in this case, almost robotic. You’re futuristic and avantgarde in the way you think, do or say things. With two Major Arcana, I can’t help but mention that you’re likely a Starseed or a Lightworker. Being one usually means you’ve had to face many oppositions in Life to get you all prepped up for your Destiny! What are you gonna do about it? Refuse your tasks and let the whole rotten world kill your Light? Hell nah.

What’s incredibly interesting about you is your morality. You have a super strong sense for justice and you carry yourself with high standards of morality. It’s just…because you’re an alien, what is moral to you might not always agree with the convention. You’re the type of person who notices how justice in this world is totally broken. I’m not even talking about a nation’s justice system—I’m talking about the general sense of what’s right and wrong for reward and punishment.

You’re the type that on the inside could be like Genghis Khan, Joseph Stalin or the Joker and Harley Quinn. You aren’t afraid to blow a damage to someone or a situation that’s been unfair. Your being chaotic, destructive, or simply disruptive as a punishment, is what’s JUST in your book of morality. I’m reminded of the story of the German Revenge Mother, so yeah… That’s real justice because this world’s moral compass looks terribly like a joke to you.

‘I am the punishment of God... If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you.’ – Genghis Khan

path of least resistance – I The Magician Rx

Because your energetic signature is very alien, you’re a born eccentric. No matter what you do, you’re just…abnormal. Different. Depending who sees you, you’re either an inspiration or an eyesore. You can’t help it. You stand out too much. Those who see you as an inspiration though, usually feel so because your example (or your stories) gives them a sense of validation.

You clearly don’t belong; but you’re carefully doing your own thing; carving out your very own existence; establishing your place in the world through sharing and flaunting your unique talents. THAT is incredibly validating for other rebels, eccentrics, and outcasts who are similar in vibe to you. You are a powerful creator—a Magician—whether or not you’re aware of this at present.

Have you ever had this crazy feeling on the inside, that sometimes, you’ve felt like your moods affect the local weather near you? Or maybe you’ve caused electricity to go haywire when your emotions are heightened? Have you felt like your hands sometimes cause batteries to run out faster? Do you get electric shocks a lot even when the thing you’re touching shouldn’t be a natural conductor for electricity? Wood or even plastic?

Bitch, you possess a crazy amount of creator energy in you. Sometimes it leaks as sparks of insanity in the physical realm because that amount of potent energy needs to be moved. Remember: energy can’t be created or destroyed; it can only be moved or transferred. You were born with this insanity because you’re an alien. You’re more than capable of handling it. All of that is just needing you to learn to channel IT properly into passionate pursuits that can benefit Humanity~♥︎

accept yourself glamorously!♥︎ – VI The Lovers

I know you get shy sometimes. Thinking that your dreams and visions are too cringe or too wild, too crazy. But you wouldn’t even be able to perceive those visions if you weren’t capable of manifesting them. So, there’s a reason for that. And more likely than not, you’re meant to see it through that those visions become Reality. As for the cringe part…

Aish, your imaginations just need polishing. They’ll get better as you refine your senses and develop your tastes. Your Reality is bound to be more high-quality eventually LMAO Trust yourself for that! All great artists also started out quite pathetic if you compare their masterpieces to their pre-debut, or even debut, works. The manifestation of your desires is also a form of Art like that.

The more you merge with your Higher Self the more this will make sense. In the meantime, what you’re meant to be focusing on is your Lower and Higher Selves integration. The Human and the Spirit, ah I mean, the Human and the Alien merging as one navigating existence in this Earth Matrix😉

ROMANTICISING YOUR FAIRY TALE🔻💙

the Hand of Destiny – Priestess of Ritual

tick tock tick tock VOILA~♥︎ – Priestess of Beauty

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[callsigns-haze]

Oh, How She's Changed...

Pairing: Acotar x reader Warnings: Contains mature themes, including violence, romance, and adult situations. Summary: YN, the immortal descendant of gods, reunites with her friends Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at a lavish gathering in the Night Court's grand ballroom. As they reminisce about past adventures and observe the antics of other courtiers, they marvel at YN's transformation from an innocent girl into a captivating woman. However, their reunion is cut short when one of YN's guards arrives to escort her away, leaving Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel with lingering thoughts and a sense of longing as they watch her depart into the night.

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden hue across the Night Court's palace, YN, the immortal descendant of gods, found herself ensconced in a lavish chamber. Intricate tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of ancient battles and celestial beings, while flickering candles bathed the room in a soft, ethereal glow. At the heart of the chamber, YN stood surrounded by the opulent splendour of her surroundings, her gaze drawn to the figures of Mor and Amren bustling around her.

Mor, her fiery locks cascading in loose waves around her shoulders, moved with a grace born of centuries of battle and camaraderie. Dressed in elegant attire befitting her station as a high-ranking member of the Night Court, she approached YN with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Well, YN," she said, her voice carrying a note of playful anticipation, "are you ready to grace the fae with your divine presence tonight?"

YN, radiant in her own right, adorned in garments woven from the finest silks and adorned with jewels that shimmered like stars, offered Mor a warm smile. "I hope I can do justice to the legacy of my ancestors," she replied, her voice infused with a hint of humility.

Meanwhile, Amren, the enigmatic being of ancient origins, moved with a fluidity that spoke of eons spent mastering the arcane arts. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned forth threads of celestial magic, weaving enchantments into the fabric of YN's gown. Each stitch pulsed with otherworldly energy, resonating with the divine power that flowed through YN's immortal veins.

"Fear not, YN," Amren reassured her, her voice a melodic echo of distant thunder, "with Mor's impeccable taste and my arcane prowess, you'll be the epitome of divine elegance."

Mor nodded in agreement, her gaze sweeping over YN with an approving smile. "And let's not forget your own innate charm and grace, YN," she added, her eyes alight with pride. "You were born for moments like these."

Grateful for their support and guidance, YN felt a surge of confidence coursing through her veins. "Thank you, both of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'm grateful to have such wise counsel."

Amren's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes glittering with ancient wisdom. "The honour is ours, YN," she replied, her voice carrying the weight of centuries past. "Now, let us ensure that you're prepared for whatever the night may hold."

But as YN caught her reflection in the polished mirror, something stirred within her. Gone was the innocent girl she had always been, replaced by a woman exuding an air of confidence and allure. With a subtle sway of her hips and a coy smile playing upon her lips, she realized that with this new look, she was ready for some spice.

And so, as she stepped out into the night, her heart brimming with anticipation, YN knew that she was not just a descendant of gods, but a force to be reckoned with—a goddess in her own right, ready to conquer whatever challenges lay ahead.

--

In the heart of the Night Court's grand ballroom, the air hummed with the vibrant energy of celebration. The room pulsated with music, the melodies weaving through the throng of fae dancers swirling gracefully across the floor. Amidst the lively festivities, three figures sat at a secluded table, their voices mingling with laughter and camaraderie.

Rhysand, the enigmatic High Lord of the Night Court, reclined in his seat with an easy grace, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Beside him, Cassian and Azriel, his loyal companions and warriors of the Night Court, shared a toast, their laughter echoing through the hall.

"Another round, gentlemen?" Rhysand suggested, raising his glass in a playful salute.

Cassian grinned, clinking his glass against Rhysand's. "You read my mind, Rhys."

Azriel nodded in agreement, his usually stoic demeanor softened by the warmth of the moment. "To old friends and new beginnings," he said, his voice a low rumble that resonated with quiet strength.

As they sipped their drinks, their conversation turned to memories of times long past. They spoke of battles fought and victories won, of challenges overcome and bonds forged in the crucible of war. And yet, amidst the tales of triumph, there lingered a sense of longing—a yearning for something—or rather, someone—missing from their midst.

"I can't wait to see YN again," Cassian remarked, his eyes alight with anticipation. "It's been far too long since she graced us with her presence."

Rhysand nodded in agreement, a flicker of excitement dancing in his gaze. "Indeed. It will be interesting to see how she's changed over the years."

Azriel's expression softened with a hint of nostalgia. "She was always a force to be reckoned with," he said, his voice tinged with reverence. "I have no doubt that she's only grown stronger with time."

As they spoke of YN, the immortal descendant of gods, their voices filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration. Though separated by distance and time, their bond with her remained unbreakable—a testament to the enduring power of friendship and loyalty.

And so, amidst the revelry of the Night Court, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel raised their glasses once more, toasting to the promise of a long-awaited reunion—a moment that would soon bring together old friends and new beginnings in a celebration of life, love, and the enduring bonds that unite them all.

As the night wore on and the revelry reached its peak, the grand ballroom of the Night Court was alive with energy. Fae of all shapes and sizes danced in a whirl of vibrant colors and laughter, their movements reflecting the joy and freedom of the moment.

Amidst the swirling throng, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel found themselves drawn into the rhythm of the music, their spirits lifted by the infectious enthusiasm of the crowd. They moved with a fluid grace, their movements a testament to years of training and camaraderie.

As they danced, their thoughts inevitably turned to YN, the immortal descendant of gods they had long considered a dear friend. Memories of their past adventures together flooded their minds, filling them with a sense of nostalgia and longing.

"I remember the first time I met YN," Cassian reminisced, his voice tinged with fondness. "She was like a breath of fresh air—a ray of sunshine in the darkness."

Rhysand chuckled, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "Yes, I recall that day well. She certainly knew how to make an entrance."

Azriel nodded in agreement, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "She was always full of surprises. I have no doubt that tonight will be no different."

As they danced and laughed, their anticipation for YN's arrival grew with each passing moment. They imagined the joy of seeing her again, the warmth of her smile, and the strength of her spirit.

And so, amidst the music and merriment of the Night Court's grand celebration, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel continued to dance, their hearts filled with excitement and anticipation for the long-awaited reunion that awaited them. For in that moment, surrounded by friends and allies, they knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences.

As the trio continued their animated conversation, a sudden interruption from behind caught them off guard. Before they could react, a voice, once familiar but now tinged with a newfound confidence, sliced through the air.

"Did I hear someone talking about me?" YN's voice teased, laced with amusement and a hint of mischief.

Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel froze mid-conversation, their heads snapping around to find the source of the interruption. And there, standing before them, was YN—transformed beyond recognition.

Gone was the innocent girl they remembered from years past. In her place stood a woman of breathtaking beauty and undeniable allure. Her hair cascaded in waves of midnight silk, framing a face that radiated with confidence and strength. Every movement she made exuded grace and poise, her eyes sparkling with a newfound fire that sent shivers down their spines.

For a moment, the trio could only stare in stunned silence, their minds struggling to reconcile the image before them with the memories of the girl they once knew. It took them a beat too long to realize that the innocent girl had blossomed into a captivating woman—a realization that nearly caused Azriel to choke on his drink.

Cassian was the first to recover, his trademark grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, well," he exclaimed, his voice filled with playful delight. "Look who decided to grace us with her presence."

Rhysand's eyes sparkled with amusement as he surveyed YN's transformation. "I must say, you clean up rather nicely, YN," he remarked, his tone teasing yet genuine.

Azriel, usually composed and reserved, found himself at a loss for words. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks flushing faintly as he struggled to regain his composure. "You... uh... look... stunning," he managed to stammer out, his voice barely above a whisper.

YN chuckled at their reactions, a knowing gleam dancing in her eyes. "Why, thank you, gentlemen," she replied, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "I must admit, it's been quite the journey."

As they exchanged pleasantries and caught up on lost time, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel couldn't help but marvel at the woman YN had become. And as they continued to bask in the warmth of her presence, they knew that this reunion would mark the beginning of a new chapter—one filled with excitement, adventure, and the enduring bond of friendship that had stood the test of time.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN retreated to a secluded corner of the ballroom, their conversation took a more relaxed turn. Surrounded by the lively festivities of the Night Court, they observed the arrival of other lords and ladies with a mixture of amusement and mild skepticism.

Rhysand leaned against a pillar, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he surveyed the gathering crowd. "Ah, it seems the usual suspects have graced us with their presence," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.

Cassian chuckled, his eyes scanning the room with a discerning gaze. "Indeed. I see Lord Tarquin has brought his entourage of sycophants," he observed, a bemused expression crossing his features.

Azriel's lips quirked into a wry smile as he watched the various courtiers mingling with practiced charm and false pretenses. "And let's not forget Lady Ianthe, fluttering about like a peacock in heat," he added, his voice dripping with dry humor.

YN, who had been quietly observing the scene, couldn't help but join in their laughter. "It's almost comical, isn't it?" she remarked, a mischievous glint dancing in her eyes. "All this posturing and preening for the sake of appearances."

As they continued to share in their amusement, their conversation turned to lighter topics—old memories, shared experiences, and the absurdities of fae society. They laughed and joked, their camaraderie growing stronger with each passing moment.

But amidst the laughter and light-hearted banter, there was an unspoken understanding—a recognition of the challenges they faced and the dangers that lurked in the shadows. And as they stood together, united in their bond of friendship and shared experiences, they knew that no matter what trials lay ahead, they would face them together, with strength, courage, and a healthy dose of laughter to see them through.

As Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN observed the arrivals, their conversation took on a slightly more critical tone. They couldn't help but exchange knowing glances and subtle nods of agreement as they assessed the behavior of the other lords and ladies.

"Look at Lord Beron," Rhysand remarked, his voice dripping with disdain as he gestured towards a particularly pompous nobleman. "Does he ever tire of hearing himself talk?"

Cassian snorted in amusement, his eyes following Rhysand's gesture. "I doubt it," he replied, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "He's too enamored with the sound of his own voice."

Azriel, ever the silent observer, watched with a keen eye as the various courtiers vied for attention and favor. "And what about Lord Eris?" he mused, his tone tinged with skepticism. "Does he ever tire of playing his little games?"

YN nodded in agreement, her gaze narrowing slightly as she observed Lord Eris' calculating smile. "He's always been one for manipulation and intrigue," she remarked, her voice tinged with a hint of disdain. "But I doubt he'll find much success here tonight."

As they continued to pass judgment on the behavior of their fellow courtiers, Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, and YN found themselves sharing in a sense of camaraderie born of mutual understanding. They may have been outsiders in the eyes of some, but together, they formed a formidable alliance—one built on trust, loyalty, and a shared disdain for the superficiality and pretense that often permeated fae society.

And as they stood together, laughing and jesting in their secluded corner of the ballroom, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them with unwavering resolve and the unbreakable bond of friendship that bound them together.

As the night wore on, the revelry continued to swell around them, but amidst the celebration, a hushed murmur reached YN's ears. Turning slightly, she saw one of her guards approaching, his demeanor serious and resolute.

Excusing herself from the conversation with Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, YN turned to face her guard. His presence reminded her of the responsibilities that came with her divine lineage—the duties and obligations that often weighed heavily upon her shoulders.

With a nod of understanding, YN bid farewell to her companions, offering each of them a warm smile and a promise to meet again soon. Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel returned her smile, their expressions filled with a mixture of fondness and admiration.

As YN began to make her way towards the exit, the trio watched her go, their eyes following her with a mixture of awe and longing. It was impossible not to notice how she had changed—the way she carried herself with a newfound confidence, the subtle shift in her demeanor that spoke of experiences and challenges faced.

"She's grown into quite the remarkable woman, hasn't she?" Rhysand remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of pride.

Cassian nodded in agreement, his gaze never leaving YN's retreating figure. "Indeed. She's like a jewel—radiant and untouchable."

Azriel remained silent, his eyes fixed on YN with a depth of emotion that spoke volumes. He had always felt a special connection to her—a bond forged in the crucible of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. And as he watched her disappear into the night, a sense of longing stirred within him—a yearning to be by her side, to protect her and guide her through the challenges that lay ahead.

As YN disappeared from view, Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel turned back to the festivities, their thoughts lingering on the woman who had captured their hearts and inspired their admiration. For in that moment, they knew that no matter where their paths may lead, their bond with YN would remain unbreakable—a beacon of light in the darkness, guiding them through the trials and tribulations of the fae realm.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@mamachasesmayhem

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

[brodygold]

A Chance Encounter

Nick had never been very athletic. He was much more comfortable with his nose buried in a book or behind a computer screen, where he could escape into the world of coding and gaming. His skinny frame, pale skin, and thick glasses screamed “nerd” from a mile away, and he was fine with that. At 24, he had accepted that sports just weren’t his thing. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

One warm evening, Nick was on his way home from the bookstore, his backpack full of new reads, when he realized he had taken a wrong turn. Instead of heading toward his usual shortcut through the park, he ended up on the edge of a large soccer field, where a group of adults in golden jerseys was practicing. The field was alive with activity—players running drills, passing the ball with precision, and shouting instructions to one another. The energy was palpable, and Nick found himself rooted to the spot, watching in awe.

The team was impressive, to say the least. They moved with a fluidity and power that Nick could hardly fathom. Every pass, every kick, seemed perfectly timed, like a well-oiled machine. Among them, two players stood out—Griffin and Brody. Griffin was tall and broad-shouldered, with a confident stride that commanded attention. Brody, slightly shorter but equally muscular, moved with a grace that was almost mesmerizing. Even from a distance, Nick could sense the connection between them—the way they exchanged smiles, the subtle touches, the unspoken communication. It was clear they were more than just teammates.

Nick was so engrossed in watching that he didn’t notice when one of the players spotted him. It was Griffin who jogged over first, his smile friendly but curious. “Hey there, didn’t expect to see a spectator tonight,” he said, his voice warm.

Nick blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I just… I got lost and ended up here.”

Griffin waved off his apology. “No worries. We’re always happy to have an audience. I’m Griffin.” He glanced over his shoulder at Brody, who had jogged over to join them. “This is Brody, by the way.”

Brody gave Nick a nod and a grin. “You play soccer?”

Nick shook his head quickly, feeling even more out of place. “No, not at all. I’m more into books and computers.”

Griffin exchanged a look with Brody, and Nick could see the unspoken communication between them. “Well, you’re here now,” Griffin said, his smile widening. “Why not give it a shot? You might surprise yourself.”

Nick chuckled nervously, holding up his hands. “I don’t think I’m really cut out for it. I’ve never been good at sports.”

Brody tilted his head, studying Nick for a moment. “You know, everyone starts somewhere. Besides, we could use a new face around here. What do you say?”

Nick hesitated, the logical part of his brain telling him to politely decline and make a quick exit. But there was something about Griffin and Brody—something about the way they spoke to him, not with the condescension he was used to, but with genuine interest—that made him pause. Against his better judgment, he found himself nodding. “Okay, I guess I could try.”

Griffin’s grin widened. “Awesome. We’ve got some spare gear. Let’s get you suited up.”

Before Nick knew it, he was being led to the sidelines, where a pile of golden jerseys and shorts awaited. He felt a little self-conscious as he took off his glasses and changed into the gear, the jersey hanging loosely on his scrawny frame. But when he pulled the jersey over his head, something strange happened.

The moment the fabric touched his skin, Nick felt a surge of warmth, followed by a tingling sensation that spread through his entire body. He looked down, eyes widening as he watched his skinny arms begin to fill out with muscle, his chest broadening, his legs growing stronger and more defined. His posture straightened, and he could feel his coordination improving, as if his body were suddenly capable of things it had never been able to do before. His vision also improved, removing his need for glasses.

When he looked up, Griffin and Brody were watching him with knowing smiles, as if they had seen this transformation before. “Feeling good?” Griffin asked, his voice tinged with amusement.

Nick flexed his new muscles, disbelief still flooding his mind. “What just happened?”

Brody chuckled. “Welcome to the Golden Army, man. The jersey does more than just look good—it brings out the athlete in you.”

Nick could hardly believe it, but the evidence was right there, staring back at him in the form of his own reflection in a nearby window. He was no longer the scrawny nerd he had been just minutes ago. He looked like a full-fledged soccer jock, with the strength, power, and confidence to match.

“Well, since you’re officially one of us now, you’ll need a new name,” Griffin said, clapping him on the back with a force that would have sent the old Nick sprawling but now only made him grin. “Welcome to the team, Chase.”

Nick—no, *Chase*—felt a rush of pride at the name. It was a name that fit this new version of himself, a name that carried with it the strength and power of the Golden Army. He looked at Griffin and Brody, feeling a sense of belonging he had never experienced before.

As the practice resumed, Chase found himself right in the thick of it, running drills, passing the ball with precision, and moving with the kind of confidence he had only ever seen in others. He was no longer an outsider, no longer the awkward nerd who didn’t belong. He was Chase, a soccer jock, a member of the Golden Army.

And as the sun set on the field, Chase knew that his life had changed in ways he could never have imagined. He had stumbled onto the field by accident, but he was leaving it as part of something greater, something that had transformed him from the inside out. And with Griffin, Brody, and the rest of the team by his side, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[yeahspider]

BRAINSTORM 🫀

Ve’s note . bang chan drabble . he’s rich hot and mysterious . stripper x ceo (?) au . gn reader (i tried) . alcohol mention . mdni but no actual smut (pt . 2 maybe ? 🫣 if requested ) kinda proofread . enjoy this little thought . <3

part 2

“y/n need you in the private suite asap” your boss said as you fixed your makeup in the mirror . mascara wand hard at work as you put the finishing touches on your look . it was your last dance of the night and you were ready to be off already .

“this client isn’t like our regulars . he’s well known and well paid . you do a good job and you’ll be set for the rest of the year .” your boss informed as he gave you a final check over . he offered you a shot for confidence . not that you needed it . you were a professional at this point . you’ve been dancing on and off for two years . you know all the ins and outs , the do’s and dont’s. rich guys and big clients don’t make you shake like a leaf anymore . but you take the shot anyway to please him . a little liquor never hurt .

you made your way over to the suite , nodding at the bouncer as you entered . the lights were off on the main floor so you couldn’t see the client . not that it mattered . knowing what he looked like wouldn’t affect your performance . he was just a client like everyone else . someone who pays women like you to dance and twirl on a pole .

stepping up on the stage you grabbed on to the pole and waited for the music to queue so your performance could start . once the song came on you went into that action . not having a set routine in mind you just did whatever felt right . the liquid fire in your veins adding a fluidity to your movement . you’ve never felt more powerful , more hypnotizing .

as the bridge to the song came on you stopped off the stage and made your way to where the client is supposed to be . never stumbling in the dark you reach out and out your hands on the arm of the chair . usually you tried to avoid eye contact with the clients , just for your person comfort but with the energy this man was emitting off you just had to look . as you raised your head to make eye contact with him you held back a gasp at his face . this was by far the most handsome man you’ve ever seen . catching you off guard you forgot you were supposed to be dancing still . the man in question raised a brow at you as a smile graced his lips , leaving you breathless .

“don’t you have a routine to finish ?” he question . knocking you out of your stupor . recovering as quickly as you could you picked up where you left off . winding your body around his in time to the music . you hear him take in a breath as you made your way onto his lap . his hand naturally coming up to place a grip on your waist .

“uh uh no touching allowed mr ? ….” you wanted - no needed to know who this man was . you took his hands and placed them back on the chair as you continued your dance . watching the smile grow bigger on his face as you did so .

“chris . you can call me chris .” he said as he obeyed your rules . handsome rich and respectful . he gained a point in your book for that . you liked a man that could listen .

“well chris sit back and enjoy the show . let me take care of you .” you whispered in his ear as ground softly in his lap . earning a moan out of him . you let your hands travel to his chest . when he didn’t make a move to stop him you let your hands roam . feeling up his defined abdomen as you doubt off the urge to smash your lips on to his . that would be unprofessional of you . you watched his face , liking the reactions he was giving you , how vulnerable he looked under you was a power trip that you didn’t want to end . your hands moved up to his neck which you gave a gentle squeeze . earning a delicious groan from the man .

as the song ended you placed a single kiss to the mole right under his ear and slid off his lap . before you could completely unlatch yourself he grabber your wrist .

“wait don’t go just yet . stay longer i’ll pay . i need you .” he said . desperation leaking from his tone . he looked so worked up from one little dance . you had him completely under your spell and you loved it . you were definitely in for a long night .

[talonabraxas]

Hermes Trismegistus

If then you do not make yourself equal to God, you cannot apprehend God; for like is known by like.

Leap clear of all that is corporeal, and make yourself grown to a like expanse with that greatness which is beyond all measure; rise above all time and become eternal; then you will apprehend God. Think that for you too nothing is impossible; deem that you too are immortal, and that you are able to grasp all things in your thought, to know every craft and science; find your home in the haunts of every living creature; make yourself higher than all heights and lower than all depths; bring together in yourself all opposites of quality, heat and cold, dryness and fluidity; think that you are everywhere at once, on land, at sea, in heaven; think that you are not yet begotten, that you are in the womb, that you are young, that you are old, that you have died, that you are in the world beyond the grave; grasp in your thought all of this at once, all times and places, all substances and qualities and magnitudes together; then you can apprehend God.

But if you shut up your soul in your body, and abase yourself, and say “I know nothing, I can do nothing; I am afraid of earth and sea, I cannot mount to heaven; I know not what I was, nor what I shall be,” then what have you to do with God?”

- Hermes Trismegistus, Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum.

“Close your eyes and let the mind expand. Let no fear of death or darkness arrest its course. Allow the mind to merge with Mind. Let it flow out upon the great curve of consciousness. Let it soar on the wings of the great bird of duration, up to the very Circle of Eternity.”

-Hermes Trismegistus.

“That which is below is like that which is above, and that which is above is like that which is below, to perform the miracles of one only thing.”

-Hermes Trismegistus.

“The punishment of desire is the agony of unfulfillment”

-Hermes Trismegistus, Poimandres.

“But this discourse, expressed in our paternal language, keeps clear the meaning of its words. The very quality of speech and of the Egyptian words have in themselves the energy of the object they speak of.

Therefore, my king, in so far as you have the power (who are all powerful), keep the discourse uninterpreted, lest mysteries of such greatness come to the Greeks, lest the extravagant, flaccid and (as it were) dandified Greek idiom extinguish something stately and concise, the energetic idiom of usage. For the Greeks have empty speeches, O king, that are energetic only in what they demonstrate, and this is the philosophy of the Greeks, an inane foolosophy of speeches. We, by contrast, use not speeches but sounds that are full of action.

-Hermes Trismegistus, Hermetica: The Greek Corpus Hermeticum and the Latin Asclepius.

“O ye people, earth-born folk, ye who have given yourselves to drunkenness and sleep and ignorance of God, be sober now,cease from your surfeit, cease to be glamored by irrational sleep!” -Hermes Trismegistus, Corpus hermeticum.

[prahacat]

theory on the fluidity of minds and souls

The first three acts of Asajj’s life. A how-to on finding yourself. Experimental prose, 1k words | Read on ao3

How to be a Jedi

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) Child, he says, don’t cry. Here on Rattatak, we are Jedi the best we can. Here’s how to be a temple to each other: brush the red dust from your face before you go to sleep. Brush the dust from his face too. Share the dirty water without flinching, like trusting him comes natural and easy to you. Teach him what to eat, cook for him stews of insects and herbs and if he won’t eat those, tell him you’re sorry, this is all you have. This is all anyone has. Sit and guard the fire while he sleeps; trust him to guard you while you do the same. When you move up north, don’t light a fire at night so the warlords won’t spot you.

(3) Learn to be kind.

(4) When they kill him

don’t rage

don’t rage

grieve

but don’t rage, don’t let it consume you

How to be a Sith

(1) Don’t listen to the old man.

(2) All men are liars. So are the women, so is everyone, but the men are more dangerous to you, especially the older ones. Never let him know (he knows anyway). Forget. Never look back. Don’t cry when he throws lightning at you; when you’re alone again, press your fingers against your temples to relieve the headache. Make the silence your friend. Ask questions, but don’t ask too many or the wrong ones; his anger will teach you which are the wrong ones. Watch out for his anger, but learn to watch out for his sharp-edged smiles too. If he offers you food or a weapon, take it; if he gives you a name, hunt them down. If he offers you a glass of wine, sit and drink and look for the lesson: which tool is he trying to shape you into? A blade, a shadow, a shield, a smoke bomb? Be grateful for what you have because he is offering you more power than he offered anyone else, because he thinks you can take the lessons and not fail, the way so many others did.

So this is how you will live: be wary of cups you haven’t filled yourself. Hide daggers everywhere: in your boots, under the folded cloak you use as a makeshift pillow, in your dreams. Keep the holoproj next to your bedroll, make sure it’s always charged, make sure it’s never muted. Here’s a list of essential things you need to have at hand at all times: spare energy cores for your saber, medpacs and bactaspray, stimcaf and sleeptabs, protein wafers in an osmosis pack in case you can’t swallow anything. It’s better not to stare at the stars for too long when you’re traveling. Navigation is all they’re good for. Be grateful for what you have. It’s really all you need: a place for the pain to go and a place to come home to. It doesn’t matter if they’re the same place, and if one day you should catch him pressing his fingers against his temples, pretend you didn’t see. Go skewer some boys instead. There’s that Jedi again: flirt, tease, smile at him with your dewberry-colored lips and painted eyes, so he knows you want to be here, you enjoy what you are. And if you suspect or know that he too has a list of essential things, and that his list is the same as yours, the same as everyone’s these days, don’t let on.

(3) Never forget to hate yourself.

(4) Don’t fall for the blade, it’s not your friend; it will take away everything you own. It’s very simple. He won’t protect you. You can’t protect them. Always expect betrayal; always expect loss.

And when that day comes

—it will inevitably come—

remember your grief and how it was a dull, useless knife to you.

How to be a ???

How to figure out what who you are

(1) Stay alone.

(2) Boil the water before you use it for soup. Strain it and collect the pulp, the gritty dark things you don’t know how to name. Everything tastes like ashes and dust, that’s all you know. Buy some soap and scrub your hands. If you wake with a start in the middle of the night, pressure crushing your chest and your breathing quick and ragged in the quiet of your room, remember to inhale, count to four, exhale, count to four. Lie still and watch the darkness shed from the light. In the morning, roam the markets, buy something against the headache, something to hide your face, something to scrub your hands. When you walk through the streets, pull your hood low. Tell the spice dealers to leave you alone, always stop after one glass of whiskey, tell the men at the corner to fuck off. There will be days when you wake in unfamiliar places; at least try not to have two of them in a row if you can help it. Watch the sunrise. Tell no-one about your past (they know anyway; probably). Always expect betrayal, always expect loss. Forget. Never look back.

(3) Learn to be kind again.

(4) Get some credits, buy a saber; any saber you can find, as long as it’s still alive. Hold it in your hand, gently, feel the worn hilt that has passed through other hands. Were they cruel? Were they kind? Maybe. Did they protect, did they kill? Who knows. It doesn’t matter to you.

Here’s what you need to do to make this saber yours:

calibrate the focusing ring, install a strong core, toss away the parts you don’t need, polish the metal often, swing the saber daily, trust your hand again, close your eyes, listen, be patient, feel how your crystal talks to you, feel it resonate, feel it hum, learn a new language.

Yellow is a good color.

It’s going to take a long time.

[otterneuvillette]

✧HIPS DON'T LIE ! ✧

⋆🌱— Pairings: alhaitham x fem! reader

⋆🌱 — Sypnosis: You are a well-known dancer in Sumeru City, a friend of Nilou's. You captivate people with your enchanting and slightly....sensual dances. You left the Akademiya due to discrimination bcs of family financial status.

⋆🌱 — content: fem! reader, slightly spicy. (you're a bad bitch lol), kinda OOC alhaitham lightly implied yandere tendencies, alhaitham losing his shit over you.

(might do a part two?? with smut or just a continuation..)

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

Many could say that Al Haitham was incredibly studious, or even a workaholic. Or that fact that he'd prefer studying over establishing connections or relationships during his student years in the Akademiya.

You were just another face in the crowd to him, someone that never really understood him, and even if you did try, he'd shoot down any chances when you approached him.

But, he paid the price dearly once you left the Akademiya, with the lack of your presence telling him that you were gone— you never knew that he enjoyed your company either.

Al Haitham, who was known as a man that only believes in hard truths and pure logic or scientific calculations and mathematics, had underestimated his desires that was buried within his heart, his need as a human being.

He was in love with you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

A sharp breath exited his body.

He was looking at you.

Al Haitham couldn't help but stare in awe. He took in every little movement, every miniature detail, every inch of your skin that was exposed by your costume and couldn't look away.

The world around him had seemed to come to a halt as you started dancing on the stage, catching his attention almost immediately as well as taking his breath away.

He never missed a show of yours, ever since he found out about your whereabouts after you left the Akademiya. He wasn't going to lie, he missed your persistent and bubbly personality, your beautiful eyes, your luscious hair and deep down, where he kept his unwanted desires hidden.

He missed looking at the shape of your body.

He couldn't lie anymore, he was still a man, much like every other men out there, who has a primal need for someone to satisfy his yearning. During the time the two of you were in the Akademiya, he never saw the need for a counterpart, a partner in life.

He couldn't understand why every other scholars his age has a need to find someone to share their fleeting youth with, to only part ways when they don't feel like it anymore.

Unnecessary, He thought, all these unneeded emotions and needs would only hold him back from his goals, but then he found you again, seen your performances and archons, oh how he wished he could take back those stupid thoughts he had back then.

He's falling from his high pedestal made from his beliefs and logic and embraced by the human desire that already consumed others.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You step onto the stage, your dance costume shimmering in the spotlight. The veil that was covering half of your face, the clinking of your waist ornaments and the rhythmic beats of the music fill the air, and you feel the energy pulsating throughout your chest to the tips of your fingers and toes.

As a renowned dancer, your movement is a language of your own and every step tells a story. The fluidity of your movements, and the gracefulness of your gestures, all come together to capture the audience. With each sway of your hips and extension of your arms, You feel your body become one with the music, letting the rhythm take control of your movements.

You were aware of his eyes watching you, and as you move with the music, Alhaitham was captivated by the power you hold as you bewitched the audience with the way you move. With every undulation and every turn, you capture his heart, and Alhaitham can't do nothing but watch in awe.

A small sweat drop appeared on his forehead. He had always liked watching your performance, but this was entirely on a different level. You seemed to shine a little more brightly today, was it the lighting? Or maybe how the stage light framed your figure perfectly tonight?

He got lost in your movements, captivated by your beauty and grace. The way you moved your body, the dance and gestures... archon's above, even how your hair moved with every movement, complementing it like a shadow. The way that you use your body to dance was like a siren using their voices to charm sailors, simply mesmerizing.

He could not describe it in words. The way you danced was like an amazing piece of art that would take an eternity to fully appreciate.

As you reached the climax of your performance. You twisted and turned, accentuating each and every part of your body into the dance, making sure you catch every audience member's attention, plus, to making sure Alhaitham's attention was on you and you alone in the process.

You noticed that he was there for every performance you've ever done, and this performance was a way to show your....appreciation.

As the music played, you were dancing perfectly to every beat and sound. The lights in the Zubayr Theater looked like the night sky, You felt yourself getting tired slightly but you kept pressing on.

Al Haitham could feel his face get warm. As your dance progressed and your movements got more confident, he was completely and utter captured. His eyes, locked onto yours as you danced, your hips swaying to the beat of the drums.. it was all so mesmerizing.

When the tempo picked up and your footsteps began to echo throughout the stage, he began to get dizzy. His breath was caught in his throat, all the attention and focus was towards you. The music itself seemed to be only your domain, and everyone watching was under your spell.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You were moving in a circular and Alhaitham swear that he could see your ass jiggle slightly.

You were blessed with a body with full curves and rounded thighs and waist, perfect for a dancer.

You were moving with such precise, and well practiced movement, twirling your wrist and the circling of your hips and waist. Your eyes wander around the room, and he wished that your eyes could stay only on him, but there are others that you must acknowledge in the room.

Alhaitham acquiesce. His heart is green with envy, blue with sorrow, and red with passion, all the colors of the rainbow pouring out onto the floor and forming a puddle of desire.

Al Haitham was completely entranced by the dance and you. Each gesture you made, how you swayed your hips and twirled your wrist...

He could've sworn at the way you walked, your hips swayed just a little more than necessary... as if you wanted to draw more attention to your curves and make the crowd even more attracted to you.

It had certainly worked on him.

Just as you looked around the room, Al Haitham managed to catch your gaze. He couldn't control his cheeks, they had turned a subtle pink.

You slowly moved lower, knees bent slightly, feet pressed to the wooden floor of the stage, raising the right side of your hips, lifting it upwards. While maintaining eye contact with Alhaitham as you move your hips from side to side at a fast pace.

He sees a silver of the floral tattoo on your hip and he felt his pants getting more uncomfortable by the second.

Al Haitham's mouth opened slightly and he felt himself breathe a little harder at the sight.

His heart was beating out of his chest as you moved your hips in a seductive manner as maintained eye contact with him. He felt so... exposed, as if you could see the lust in his eyes.

He just had to have you.

✧✧✧⁠✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

As the tempo picked up, your movements became more intricate, your arms and legs gracefully weaving in and out of each other. Your body seemed to be in a constant state of motion, flowing seamlessly from one movement to the next.

The audience was lost in the moment, their eyes fixed on you as you continued to perform. The sound of the cymbals filled the room, adding an extra layer of excitement to the already astonishing performance.

The tiny bells, chains, and charms on your ankles, wrist and waist jingled and sparkle in the lights of the stages.

Al Haitham felt his entire body trembling in excitement. The sound of the cymbals.. the twirl of your hips.. the movement of your arms, legs and even the jingling of the bells and charms on your wrists and ankles..

You were the main attraction. The main course.

No... you were the entire meal.

And he's planning to have you all to himself.

Al Haitham felt an urge he couldn't suppress. The way you moved, the way your eyes seemed to glisten slightly. It had taken every last ounce of his willpower to hold back from rushing the stage and take you in front of the crowd.

As you finished your performance, his breathing had become quite heavy and your figure was the only thing on his mind.

He was so lost in thought thinking of how you felt.. how sweet you would've tasted...

It's killing him to not be able to have you.

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You panted. The long and intense performance took the breath out of you, but stamina is vital for a dancer so you weren't affected that much as you'd have thought.

You bowed towards the crowd that were throwing Sumeru Roses at the stage. You picked one up, smelled it and tucked it into your hair, it's vibrant purple was a stark contrast to your hair.

Al Haitham's eyes remained on you and he waited for you to notice him again.

As you picked up the Sumeru Rose and smelled it, then tucked it into your hair.. his eyes followed your every move with bated breath.

He noticed how your gaze lingered on him a second longer than necessary.

He was completely bewitched by you. The way your chest rises and falls, the way you bow, he sees a glimpse of your chest, which was quickly covered by the movement of your hair, much to his dismay.

And the way you tucked the Sumeru Rose in your hair. You looked so innocent to him...but he knows that you were anything but that and that little action alone made him want to just.. snatch you, claim you and never let you go.

He wouldn't let anyone have you, not after tonight. He'd kill anyone who would take you from him.

His previous thoughts and emotions quickly faded as reality returned. He was still sitting at his seat, he could feel his heart beating rapidly as he sat still. He couldn't help but stare at you with awe, the image still stuck in his mind. He felt himself smile as he watched you interact with the other audience members and your friends at the side of the stage.

Maybe next time he'll have the courage to come up to you and finally have the chance to talk to you.

But for now let him burn the image of you and your endless teasing during the performance in his mind.

So that he could imagine of fucking you senseless before he goes to sleep.

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☆— FIN—⁠☆