#wifi interference

[fixmypc24ex]

8 Items You Didn’t Know Can Interfere With Your Wi-Fi Signal

[saym0-0]

thinking about a wider-mcyt like. death network. like their are several reapers/gods that all watch over/take care of different aspects of death. kristin is in charge of permadeaths (hardcore/limited lives servers), zed(eath) is in charge of like. a few respawnable worlds- not all of them because i imagine with there being so many more of them and them each having so many more deaths its a big responsibility. pix works part time with just the one world (empires). i don't actually watch that many smps and it seems a common enough trope so if theres anyone else from another smp that would fit feel free to add on :D

they're all coworkers.

[warningsine]

Also the ability to stream in 4k is dependent on the quality of the internet connection (Netflix is not responsible for that one). Even when the tv is right, and Netflix delivers what they promise... The internet provider says... Hmmm windy today have some delay and pixels

A very good point!

[thebestsetter]

"(Name)."

"Yes, Rinnie?" You asked. Rin almost never interrupted you while you were doing your skincare, so you figured this was an important matter "Did something happen?"

"'Did something happen?'" He mocked your voice, frowning at you "Don't try to act like you did nothing wrong"

"Wow wow wow. Don't give me that attitude, young boy!" You said, frowning back and playfully pulling his nose, which made him let out a startled 'Yelp!' and push your hand away "But seriously, what did I do? I have no idea"

"Oh but you most definitely do" he grabbed your phone from the counter and began looking through it, frowning all the while and cursing the slow wifi.

You weren't really nervous about it because you both trusted each other, and you knew you hadn't done anything wrong.

So why? Why was Rin Itoshi frowning at your phone at almost 12 am. on a random wednesday?

You needed a sign, anything to help you understand him. Maybe you forgot something important. Maybe you didn't do the dishes yesterday, and it was your turn to do them. Maybe he discovered your secret fanpage. You had no idea.

'Oh, my Sheila!'

On second thought, you most definitely did.

"'When I'm arguing with my boyfriend but then remember who I'm arguing with'? Really, (Name)?" He frowned, turning the phone to you and shoving it into your face "And where did you get this photo of me anyways? It's so old"

When you grabbed your phone, you saw your favorite photo of all time. It was 5 year old Rin Itoshi, give or take a few months, with his mouth wide open like he was eating a rainbow, looking all silly and squishable.

"Can you blame me, Rin? Look at him!" You said, showing him the picture "He was so cute!! You were so cute. And so round, too!!" You suddenly pinched his cheek like a grandma "I love this picture of young you."

"Only the picture?" He crossed his arms

"No" you giggled, hugging him "I love you, too, Rinnie"

He hugged you back, his head in the crook of your neck. It was moments like these that you enjoyed the most: just the two of you, without anyone else to interfere

"Maybe" he started, voice muffled from your hair "I'll let you keep that video up. But only if you promise me Isagi and Bachira won't find it"

Oh oh.

"Uhm... Rinnie" you said, slowly getting away from the hug. You knew what was going to happen "They... already saw it"

"What."

"Yeah, Isagi even put it was his profile pic or something"

Rin quickly snatched your phone, opening the comment section with 12k+ comments.

There, in all of their glory, were Isagi and Bachira's comments, each with 10k+ likes

Yoichii._: Ty for the photo, (Name). Putting it as my pfp 🙏

Meg.chira: JUST MADE A STICKER OUT OF IT, DM ME IF YALL WANT IT

"Delete that shit right now" Rin said, storming off and muttering something among the lines of "I'll kill them both" and "I hate them" while you laughed your ass off

Well, in the end, you did delete the video. What matters, after all, is that you had the most amazing picture ever, and you wouldn't trade it for the world

Bachira has it, too. As well as the whole Blue Lock members. But they don't have the other hundreds pictures of mini Rin that Sae secretly sent you. So, you're still winning.

Pls tell me yall saw this trend already.

Masterlist

[nanamiskentos]

going to a cafe with the jujutsu kaisen men a/n: (based on irl experience with a wide variety of subpar men) 😭 gojo's order being my order...aurkay!

gojo — def the type to walk in and push his sunglasses down to check out the place. his order def goes something like a venti caramel macchiato with almond milk, two pumps of vanilla and two pumps of hazelnut, and a little caramel swirl at the top. smiles and is friendly to all the baristas, he's never rude to workers. tells the barista is gojo, with an o. whoever's unfortunate enough to be stuck next to him is doomed to hear him wax poetic about how coffee beans are the soul of the earth, and its 'really deep, you wouldn't get it lol'. if you order a black coffee, he'll ask if everything is okay at home. can't leave the cafe without ordering a $8.00 sweet treat and then wondering why all his purchases are adding up

geto — walks in as if he's a regular and tells the barista that he'll have his 'regular'. the barista has never seen him before. probably orders a flat white, double shot of espresso, no foam. he always says he doesn't have to pretend to like foam because he's chill like that. he'll ask for the wifi password, but only so he can show off how good he is at working in a cafe, but his ass is on coolmathsgames. will nod and pretend to care about whatever you're saying but he's still thinking about coolmathsgames. will also drop random metaphors like 'life is just like coffee. you either take it strong or with sugar.' you tell him to save the bad metaphors for his cult.

nanami — doesn't wander or hesitate when he enters the cafe. checks his watch every five minute. orders a black coffe, medium, and adds one packet of sugar. he's pretty good at ordering what he wants efficiently, and it leaves even the barista worried. he's here to relax so don't ask him any unnecessary question because this man needs a break. actually enjoys eavesdropping on people's conversations, and ends up tilting his angle to snoop on gossip better. avoids small talk like its another curse. you can't really make him react too much in a cafe, unless you spill coffee on his freshly pressed suit. will be passive aggressive and suggest that the cafe chooses better music. likes a good, dependable pastry. apple danishes are a favourite.

sukuna — prefers tea, without debate. but still orders relatively normal things. likes a good latte with chocolate syrup. but the king of curses kinda has to look cool, so he powers his way through a black coffee, with no sugar or milk. you swear his eyes are tearing up as he pretends to like it. after every sip of coffee, he sighs really loudly and it gets a bit annoying. even after you ask what's wrong, he says its nothing and continues to sigh loudly. nanami may be the one who eavesdrops, but sukuna is the one who interferes. will turn around in his chair to give unsolicited advice, but he genuinely thinks he's being helpful by telling schoolgirls to buy cleavers to chop their friends' hands off. is mildly offended when they move tables and give him weird looks. passes loud comments on other people and tells couples when he thinks they will breakup. attempts to connect to the wifi three times before threatening to burn the router.

toji — the barista asks if he wants a pastry with his drink and he asks 'do i look like the type of man to eat a muffin?' but if they're free, he'll take two. sits with his back to the wall like he's in a mob movie. god help anyone who sits too close to him, he really just doesn't trust anyone in his personal space. doesn't even acknowledge the existence of others until he's had at least three sips of his coffee. you could tell him his house is on fire, and he’d just mutter that he can't do anything about it now. types the wifi password on his phone with one finger like a caveman. tells parents to 'control their spawn' but entertains kids with coin tricks when no-one is looking. sometimes struggles to fit the lid on his go-to cup, and refuses to asks for help. wrestles with it for five minutes, getting increasingly annoyed before rushing out the door.

choso (this one is dedicated to pookie @creamflix) — frowns at the menu like it's written in an ancient language, like wtf is affogato. if someone behinds him coughs, he scolds them and says he's going as fast as he cans. spends 10 minutes deciding and then panics at the last second, tells the barista to give him whatever. if the barista asks any follow up questions (like milk preferences) he genuinely short circuits, "what kinds of milk are there?" he's genuinely baffled that there are options beyond 'cow.' he'll point at a pastry and ask what's in it. the barista explains and he replies with 'okay i trust you.' always ends up picking a wobbly table by accident and spends 15 minutes trying to fix it with folded napkins. if someone asks to share his table, he'll look like they just asked for his kidneys. if someone asks for his opinion on his pastry, its always a dumbass cryptic answer like 'its interesting.' uses his phone on full brightness and everyone can see him look up 'how to pronounce cafe au lait.' cleans up after himself because he's nice like that. if the staff get his order wrong, he never says anything even if it tastes like dirt.

[benedictscanvas]

Your Remus x reader fics have melted my cold, cold heart and now I’m a mess. They’re so soft! And I’m so soft for gentleness! Please write more if you feel like it. Maybe something where reader is exhausted mentally and a wee bit teary, and Remus is his lovely, comforting self. Regardless, all the air kisses for you!!

thank you so so much lovely!! this is one of the most beautiful asks i’ve had in a while. i hope this is what you were looking for, so many air kisses back at you!! this is a continuation of this and this but doesn’t have to be! || remus lupin x fem!reader, 1.4k words, cw pet names and a teary, tired reader

- - -

Remus is not having a good day because it’s abundantly clear to him that you’re not having a good day.

He’s spending the day working at yours, because his wifi is fucked and for once it isn’t just an excuse to spend time with you. Although he supposes he could have turned to Sirius who lives far closer to him than you do, so it’s a bit of an excuse to see you after all.

His wifi is fucked though.

So he sits at your tiny dining room table that can only fit two chairs and spends the day trying not to look at you too much opposite him. He fails miserably, and it’s not usually miserable to look at you but each time he does, you look thoroughly despondent.

“Another cuppa, lovely?”

You startle as you look at him over your laptop like you’d forgotten he was there. You have to blink from your screen and back to him a couple of times before you can finally process what he’d said to you.

“Thank you.”

He slips away to the kitchen, socked feet quiet on wooden floors because now he’s terrified of startling you. It’s 3pm in the afternoon and the third cuppa he’s made you today, but he wonders if he should have made you more. He begged you to stop for lunch multiple times but you very gently argued that you’d just got too much to do today, that he could take whatever he wanted from the fridge.

He should have just made you a sandwich without asking. Now he’ll interfere with your dinner if he does. He’s really struggling to know what to do here. As he carries two fresh cups of tea back to the dining room table, he feels a little bit breathless.

”Tea for the pretty lady,” he flirts, because it usually makes you smile this bashful smile that he really likes. But as he places the cup next to you, he notices your watery eyes just as you turn away to hide them.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, all scratchy. Remus feels like he’s about to cry just looking at you, so he makes an effort to pull himself together as he crouches next to your chair.

”Dove?”

You’re still staring at the wall rather than him. He isn’t going to rush you, though, or force you to look at him if you don’t want to. He’ll stay hovering by your side for as long as you’ll let him, but he places a tentative hand on your shin after a few seconds so you know he’s with you.

When you turn to face him, sniffling, the first tear has fallen. You were clearly holding them in, and it feels like a physical ache in his chest.

”Sorry,” you say through an empty laugh as more tears fall and you hurry to wipe them away. He squeezes your shin for lack of what to do. He is totally helpless, but there’s also this instinct deep within him that kicks in and tells him to do whatever it takes to fix this.

”It’s okay,” he assures gently, “You want to talk about it?”

”I hate crying,” you say instead, looking upwards to try to stop the tears falling again. He takes a second to kneel down rather than crouch, however much his knees hate it, so that he can reach up and wipe your tears himself. The pads of his thumbs swipe across your cheeks and he hopes you feel at least a little loved.

”I know, lovely.”

He doesn’t say much else, because he’s invited you to speak and you will, when you’re ready. He really really doesn’t want to rush you. Another swipe of his thumb removes another traitorous tear. He keeps his other hand as a steady pressure on your shin even though he doesn’t know if that’s even helpful.

”I don’t even know why I’m crying,” you say, another halfhearted laugh accompanied by more tears, “Nothing’s happened. I’ve just got so much on, and so many emails and texts I haven’t replied to and I saw another one pop up on my phone and I just���”

He nods sympathetically as you trail off and immediately bury your face in your hands as the real sobs start. It’s instinct once again that takes over as he strains upwards to put his arms around you as best he can, one over your shoulders and the other bringing your head to his chest. You go willingly.

He presses his forehead to the top of your head and murmurs into your ear.

”Oh, my girl. You’re alright. I’ve got you, you can cry.”

His words seem to make you cry harder and it only makes him pull you in closer, as close as he can.

You apologise yet again after a few minutes and he just strokes your hair and says nothing. He thinks it helps. You begin to calm down after a little while longer, he can feel you try to pull away and he lets you go easily, shifting until he’s kneeling beside you again.

”God, what a mess I’ve made,” you laugh again, a defence mechanism if he’s ever seen one. You wipe the wet patch you’ve left on his shirt in vain and he catches your hand in his. Brave, he thinks.

”None of that,” he insists softly, “This shirt’s all special now. The day you finally let me see you cry, immortalised in the fabric.”

Your laugh is far more genuine this time and he’s very proud of himself.

“Been wanting to see me cry for a while, have you?”

”All my life, dove. I was beginning to think I’d just have to mean to you and get it over with.”

You gasp dramatically, but it’s all for show.

”I don’t think you have it in you, Remus.”

”Maybe not,” he hums wistfully, “Seeing you cry has just now made the top five of things that make me cry. But I’m glad you trusted me with it.

You soften, visibly, he can see it in your eyes as you tilt your head at him. You press your lips together and wipe your eyes again, but there’s no more tears to be found.

”I suppose if I had to cry, I’m glad you were here for it too,” you say with a small grin and it isn’t like your usual one, but it’s a start. Your face grows a lot more serious as you say, “You make pretty much everything a bit better.”

And he doesn’t know what to do with that at all. If you’d said that to him back when the two of you were sixteen, he might have told you he was in love with you then and there. But he’s not sixteen anymore, and he has enough sense to know this is far from the time for that. So he hopes he isn’t blushing too much and goes back to what he knows.

”Only a bit better?”

You shove him, and he’s on his knees, so he’s quick to lose his balance and go toppling to the floor. It finally brings out your real laugh, loud and giggly, as you wriggle about in your chair.

His knees hurt but all he can feel is delighted.

Soon enough, he heaves himself to standing, pretending to glare at you as he returns to his chair and you’re still giggling.

”Your tea will go cold. I made that for you ages ago, you know.”

”I was crying!”

”I know. It was very annoying,” he says, grinning at you so you know he doesn’t mean a word. You laugh yet again, which is exactly what he was going for, “Seriously, lovely. Please say something when you’re feeling overwhelmed, I can’t bear for all that to be happening in your pretty little head without me knowing.”

He sees you react to the word pretty this time; you preen.

”I don’t want you feeling left out,” you agree teasingly, with a little sigh, “Alright, I’ll tell you. Only if you reply to all my texts for me.

”If you order Chinese for dinner, we can sit on the sofa and reply to them together?”

You look like you could run round the table and hug him again, and he considers his job complete. That little instinct that urged him to fix it calms down and the big instinct he usually has to kiss you senseless returns full force. He sips his tea instead of listening to it, for now.

- - -

if you have a request of your own (esp for more of this universe or more soft!marauders, i would love to hear from you sunflower <3

[vyainide]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ kento, shoko & thigh riding

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤnanami kento, ieiri shōko

tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, afab! reader, nsfw, vague bdsm dynamic (for both), brat taming (nanami), a littleeeee bit of sadism and dacryphilia (shōko)

from vyon. i... got carried away... sorry... idk why shōko's was more beautiful and poetic and symbolic, lesbians just do it for me, shoot the messenger ig 😰😰 wanted to get this out on the 3rd but shhhhhh 🤫 NEARLY LOST THIS DRAFT TO MY DUMB WIFI 😭😭😭 ( & @sugojosgf cheer up baby 🫀🫀)

nanami swears he hates this as much as you do. he hates having to punish you for being a brat but he knows what has to be done when he's met with that petulant frown, your eyebrows pinched together like the foldings of an envelope that'll only reveal the simmering annoyance in your eyes when he drags a hand over your jaw, nodding your head up to his gaze. he takes in the subtle way you flinched when he breathes a deep breath through his nose— obvious disappointment in his ministrations. he doesn’t like out–right denying you though, and you appreciate that, you really do— but when it ends with your legs spread over his thighs, hopelessly grinding down for the smallest fractions of friction, it starts to feel worse than not having him at all.

Your hands fisted the material of his dress–shirt, marking folds and creases into the otherwise ironed shirt. Nanami's hands are settled on your hips, patting an encouraging rhythm— other than that, you have him no where else. It's a punishment, he reminds you, he's not going do anything more than this, than what's necessary to put you back into your place. So you're left to fend for yourself, trying your best to hump against Nanami's thigh with no footing; it feels stupid, you're sure you look stupid. Your feet hang just a few millimetres from the floor, dangling in the air as your toes stretched out purposefully so you can stabilise your lower half enough to push your hips forward.

Frustrated tears have been blurring your vision for however long this has gone on, Nanami leans back into the support of the chair, making a point of keeping away from you as his hands tap. You can't help but grumble, frustrated and whiny, at his constant reminder to keep your pace even. "If it's not to apologise for the way you behaved," Nanami speaks after what seems like hours of silent watching, "then I don't want to hear anythin'."

he makes you hump against his thigh as a punishment, knowing that no matter how long you spend trying to find the right position to purposefully push your clit down, you'll never get satisfied enough to cum. he doesn’t touch you, he doesn't talk to you— it's like he isn't there at all, reminiscent of all the lone nights when you have to settle for your fingers to press against an ache between your thighs that nanami had worked into you. his patience is the most annoying part of it— how his eyes brush over your features without a care for your struggles. depending on how stubborn you feel that night, nanami will either interfere with subtle touches to break down your walls or he'll soften at the sound of your apology between sobs.

Exhaustion taunts your movement, unfortunately, Nanami knew that you weren't ready to give in; his eyes trail over the clock and finds himself surprised by how long you'd been at this. Memories of your actions trickle back into his mind, wondering why you felt so especially wronged to sulk this long— maybe he'd been in the wrong this time. He wonders the specifics for a bit before coming to the conclusion that you were just being particularly stubborn about this and he'd hadn't been wrong to issue a correction for your behaviour. However, it didn't seem to be doing its job, neither helping you nor him.

Decidedly, he reaches an hand out to push your hair behind your ear. You curl into the touch almost immediately and he has to fight the satisfaction that corrupts inside him when you chase after him. Sweat lines your forehead, features permanently scrunched up, your mouth parted open as you panted. Full of unbridled tears, your eyes flickered to Nanami and you finally squeeze out a please, whisper to him that you're sorry. It's all that Nanami's wanted to hear so he leans in, a hand pushed upwards under the hem of your shirt and the other grabs your leg, hooking it over his other thigh so you could slide into his lap comfortably. You settled right over his bulge, a satisfied sigh shivering through your spine as Nanami trails his hand up; he pushes his fingers through your hair at the base of your hair and holds it out of the way when he nods his head down to press kisses at your neck. Sorry's fall out of your mouth at a hurried pace when you finally get to grind against his bulge, finally able to focus some kind of attention to your clit.

you're always tired by the time nanami decides that you've been good enough for your punishment to end or you give in and apologise; your legs ache from all the strenuous effort, no matter how long you'd been at it. since you've already shown regret for your actions, there's no need to nanami to shy away from taking over. he allows you to lie weightless underneath him, only twenty–one grams left of your soul boneless and floating as nanami finally gives you gentle reprieve. fucking you slow as he hums, praising how good you've been, telling you you'll always be his doll— no matter how you act out.

it's mere fun for shōko. something about it is electric, evokes some disturbing sense of feeling through nerves that she's left in slumber for years; thrumming inside of her, pandora's box bursts open inside of her bones, insects buzzing alive and rattling through narrow calcium passageways in search of an exit. she erupts with life when you're so desperately chasing after your own high, neglecting her touches, on her thigh. your whines and mewls feeding the torturous ache inside her to always have you here, ready–made for her. it's strange for shōko to like this as much as you do— maybe even more, when she gains no physical gratification from it, despite that, she's obsessed.

High–pitched moans have been altering the space of Shōko's bedroom for a while, the furniture all oozing down into the walls and floor as her brain focuses both hemispheres on you; they both fight to see which side can get more of you. Her left hand squeezes the fat of your hips, switching between mean grips and soothing cirles; her right hand is messing with the clasps of your bra, trying to get it off so she can see your tits bounces everytime you jostle forwards. She's all over you and encourages you to do the same with her.

Her face pushed right into the burrow of your neck, desperately kissing and licking over your skin, like she could wear it away enough with her tongue alone to have an entrance to push herself into your body to make home. Spurned on by the fact that you're grinding against her so desperately and still it's not enough, she's untamed. Her kisses are broken into intervals where she stops biting and sucking to murmur praises into your skin, making herself known to your intimate body.

there's little logic as to why exactly shōko enjoys the practice so much. she thinks it's the view, honestly. your flushed face— too fucked up to worry about appearances, your hair sticking to your forehead like strokes of paint, how you scramble your hands over her in search of some texture and stability, the tears and the sobs that follow. she watches it all with a patience and steadiness that could only belong to someone with her kind of profession and it only spurns you on more, knowing that there was some kind of obscene part of shōko that loved this. even though she shushes you so gently, wipes your eyes, and gives you soft kisses over the parts of your cheeks where makeup has loosened from sweat and tears— she makes you keep going until your body gives out.

She hums, pleasant and supportive next to your ear when her kisses lead her back up to your face. Your nails tightened into her shoulders, the tension of a cable holding an elevator wound up your body, a burn in your thighs like you'd been awake with the weight of the world on your shoulders for a millennia and more. You've been asking for something for a while— you're not sure what exactly but Shōko knows. She always does when you're whimpering please's in her ears. Your head lay on her shoulder, pants falling from your lips and a dazed look on your face as your hips shift and stutter, prompted by her encouraging hands. "Please, Shō," you beg again and again, "I— I need," and you don't finish cause she swats at your thigh.

"Jus' a lil' more, okay pretty?" Strangely, she sounds just fucked up as you. "A little more, then I'll take care of everything." Shōko's never disappointed you, she's not cruel enough to be made for that, so you trust her and you keep going. When your breathing slows, breaths more purposeful and you're sniffling, obvious tears rolling down your face, she waits for the weight of your hips to shift entirely into her palms— a burden on her shoulders— and then she'll take over. "You did so good," she hums as she moves you to lay down on the bed. "So, so good, 'm gonna take care of you now, 'kay?" You nod and her tongue swipes over the tears that fall from your eyes over to your ear before kissing the skin.

when she's satisfied with how worn out you already are, she takes over. shōko thinks this is also why she enjoys having you tire yourself out on her thighs first; you're so docile, so quiet, so receptive to everything she does now. every slow, tantalising stroke against unassuming expanses of skin makes you twitch and squirm; you're too tired to even call her name so she listens to your squeals and whines instead, using them as guides for her next movements. she knows that you'll hate her in the morning for managing to talk you into this, but right now, she doesn't hear a bratty peep out of you and it's how she likes it. she already deals with too much stress in her life— the last thing she needs is for you to add onto that and even though you'll pout at her and turn away from her warmth in the morning, she knows you like your mind reduced to liquid, you don't like the weight of your own thinking either.

[secretlytranced]

I love little glitches... out of nowhere, something clicks and I pause for the briefest second and everything shuts down- my thoughts, my body, everything. The wiring crosses... wifi interference... a power surge... a momentary shutdown... so much fun.

[14dayswithyou]

If the Angel was talking to unknown people on webcam (just like those sites that pair you with random people), just to have fun and pass the time, would Ren interject the call or find a way to be the next person to talk to the Angel?

✦゜ANSWERED: He'd want to sit back and observe the entire time. They'll only interfere (ending the call, cutting the wifi/webcam connection, crashing the site, etc) if the conversation starts going down a flirtatious path — otherwise Ren will most likely keep to himself.

He also won't try to become the next person Angel talks to, just because he wants the "first meeting" to be really memorable.

[hsfan94]

Letters to Santa

AN: This is a bit late because I've had wifi problems. I'm also not totally happy with the execution of the idea but I hope you like it. Merry Christmas to those who celebrate!

Dear Santa,

My name is Harry, I'm 30 years old and all I want for Christmas is my best friend, Y/n. (For the seventh year in a row.)

Harry had just finished filling in the blanks on his letter and was looking down at it thoughtfully, when Niall spoke up behind him.

“Come on lad, this was meant to be fun and you’ve gone and made it sad.”

They had been out doing their Christmas shopping when they came across a station for kids to write letters to Santa. Niall pulled him over to it enthusiastically, insisting they write one.

“Well, what did you wish for then?” Harry turned to him pointedly.

Niall cleared his throat and then read, “Dear Santa, My name is Niall, I’m 31 years old and all I want for Christmas is a nerf gun. I never had one growing up and they look like so much fun.”

“Noted,” Harry said, rethinking his idea for Niall’s gift. “Alright let’s drop them in and get going.”

All throughout lunch with Niall, his mind wandered to his request of Santa. Was it too much? Had he wanted it for too long? Should he move on? Niall would never judge him, he just always encouraged him to move on, but Harry couldn’t.

Harry and Y/n met when she was fresh out of Uni. They became instant friends and decided to live together. Harry didn’t expect it to be so easy to fall in love with someone when you see them every day and know all of their worst habits. He’d tell anyone who would listen that Y/n didn’t really have any bad habits, but they’d just shake their head and say things like “you’ve got on rose colored lenses”. He denied that he felt more than platonically for her for so long. But then, one day she brought someone home for the first time.

Harry could hear sounds in the hallway. He realized it was y/n giggling and trying to unlock the door. He can only imagine what her date was doing. He imagines that, at least if it was him, that he’d have his hands on her waist and be kissing her neck from behind while she worked the door open. They finally entered and didn’t see him sitting on the couch. It was as if someone had shoved knives into every crevice of his body when the unidentified stranger closed the door and then pressed her up against it, pushing his tongue in her mouth. Harry sat there frozen for a minute, maybe an hour, before clearing his throat loudly. 

Y/n had flushed a scarlet red. 

“Harry, I-” She pushed the man off her so fast. “I’m so sorry I- I thought you’d be out with Camille.” 

Maybe he was being delusional, but she had seemed like she felt guilty. His heart clenched again at the mention of his now exe girlfriend. They had a date tonight, but she had called this afternoon and said she wanted space. He asked why and she responded that she felt they both had feelings for other people. It stung at the time but sitting on the couch now he realizes she was right.

“We um…” He couldn’t tell her everything in front of this stranger, so he just settled on “Rescheduled for this weekend.”

“Oh,” she said, dragging the stranger toward the hall as she spoke. “Well, we will just be… going to my room then.” 

Harry couldn’t sleep that night.

He never dated anyone seriously after the realization sunk in. He had tried but no one could take Y/n’s place. He would always just be on dates and wishing he was at home watching movies with her instead.

He tried not to let the all-consuming love he had for her interfere with everyday life, but it was rough around the holidays. Especially the last two years. She’d been seeing this bloke, Johnny he thinks his name is, and he doesn’t mean to be a Grinch, but it really puts a damper on his holiday cheer to think about her spending the day with someone else.

So here he is unintentionally moping about the holidays when Y/n comes bursting through the door.

“Harry? Are you home?”

He figured she knew he was and was asking rhetorically but he answers anyway, “In the kitchen, love.”

He’d been baking some of her favorite Christmas treats.

She stumbles in looking a bit forlorn.

“What’s wrong, lovie,” he says as she climbs up onto one of the stools.

“Oh,” she says, sighing, “Just, Johnny and I broke up.”

Harry feels a cheek splitting grin form on his face and he has to really try hard to push it away.

“That’s a shame, what happened?”

She looks up at him just as he feels his face go back to normal.

“We just realized we wanted different things, well he realized anyway.”

He rounds the island to give her a bone-crushing hug and says, “I’m sorry. But I’ve got some of your favorite Christmas treats ready to cheer you up.”

She peers up at him resting her chin on his chest.

“You’re too good to me.”

He walks over to the oven to pull out the tartlets, the last of the baked goods, and while his back is to her, she speaks again.

“Let’s make a deal, let’s do Christmas eve just the two of us, yeah? We’ll bake cookies, sing Christmas songs, and do a gift exchange. It’ll be just like our first Christmas together.”

His heart clenches at her use of the word together but he powers through. Turning around to face her, he replies “Sounds wonderful, love, I can’t wait.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n had proposed the Letters to Santa charity drive to her boss in June. Early, she knows, but she knew there would be a substantial amount of work that would go into the buying and giving the presents part. She had seen a few of them growing up and she thought it was so kind of the community to come together for kids in need at Christmas. Due to its placement in the mall though, it got a lot of stragglers’ attention and so Y/n had to tack on extra hours to weed out the “in need” letters from the ones that were just people getting into the holiday cheer.

She hadn’t accounted for the possibility of her friends walking through the mall and dropping letters in.

After seeing Harry and Niall drop in letters, she felt so giddy to go through the box that day. She was excited to tease them about whatever they put down. But when she found Harry’s, it was no longer a laughing matter. He asked Santa for her and he clarified that that’s all he’d wanted for seven years. She felt tears brimming at her eyes. She genuinely had no idea he felt that way otherwise they might have gotten together sooner. 

So, that night, when she had a date planned with Johnny, she ended things with him. She bounded through the door of her and Harry’s flat, giddy to tell him. But before she could get too carried away an idea struck her. He asked for her for Christmas. So, she should wait to reveal that she knew and then actually give him what he wanted for Christmas. That was the whole point of the Letters to Santa anyway. So instead of telling him everything she just told him they broke up. She didn’t miss the smile that took over his face for just one second before he went into nurturing friend mode, but she pretended she did.

But after her plan had been set in motion and all she had to do was wait, Y/n realized this was going to be the longest week of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Maybe he is too optimistic, but Harry had done some decorating while Y/n was at work today and he strategically placed mistletoe in a few places. It wasn’t too obvious, just there as a decoration and if the opportunity didn’t present itself that was perfectly fine with him. 

When she gets home, a Christmas envelope with his name on it in her hand (which he thinks is strange because there is already a gift wrapped under the tree for him), she oohs and awes at the decor. 

“Harry, it looks so lovely!” She does a dramatic spin around the room to look at everything. “You did all this yourself? For me?” She turns to face him, expression set in a soft glow. 

“Yes. Do you like it?” He feels a blush creep up his cheeks, slightly embarrassed at the effort he went to for a quiet night between friends.

She surprises him by bounding up to him, stretching up on her tip toes and placing a kiss to his cheek.

“I love it!” She pulls back and looks at him brightly. “Do you want to do gifts first?”

He simply nods because it seems like she wants to do gifts first and she can have everything she wants.

She grabs him by the wrist and drags him over to the tree, where they have big, soft floor pillows set up for this exact reason. She plops down first on the green one, so he takes the red.

“Here!” She thrusts the Christmas envelope at him.

He takes it and looks at it.

“What’s this, love? You already have something under the tree with my name on it. I told you not to spend too much.”

She sighs dramatically.

“I can spoil you if I want to. Besides, I did my shopping too early, and a better idea came to me last week.”

A mischievous grin takes over her face, allowing for the slightest bit of worry to settle in his stomach. Is she going to prank him on Christmas?

Harry carefully opens the envelope and pulls out its contents. The worry is quickly replaced with immense dread at the sight of his letter to Santa.

“Y/n…” he starts, shaking his head, “I—” He really has no idea what to say and instead he goes to stand up.

Panic flashes across her face and she’s quick to plant him right back on the floor.

“No, wait, Harry, there’s more. You have to flip it over.”

Confused, he does just that and there is writing on the back.

Dear Santa,

My name is Y/n, I’m 28 and all I’ve wanted for the last seven years is to be able to tell my best friend, Harry, that I’m madly in love with him.

Harry re-reads it at least four times before it sinks in. A giant grin takes over his face before he is flinging himself at her, tackling her to the ground.

He presses kisses all over her face.

“You,” kiss, “little” kiss “shit.” Kiss.

He pulls back just enough to look her in the eyes. “You’ve been keeping this from me for a week?”

“Well, I wanted to tell you that day but, you asked for me for Christmas, so I thought I’d give you what you wanted.” She’s smiling brightly too.

“I would’ve taken you a week early too.”

He feels her shiver at his words, and he feels excitement course through him as the thought washes over him too (even though he hadn’t meant it that way).

“I know, and it was a hard choice, especially when I saw how happy you were when I told you I broke up with Johnny,” she says carding her fingers through his hair, “But like, we only get one opportunity for our first time saying ‘I love you’ and isn’t on Christmas better than a week early.”

“Good point,” he says. Then he leans down and connects their lips for the first time ever and it is complete magic. Harry feels his toes curl when she slides her tongue in his mouth. Before they can get carried away though he pulls back once more. “I love you, so much.”

She giggles and his heart soars.

“I know,” she says, “I love you too, so much. I wish we had told each other sooner, but I’m so thankful that Niall made you do a letter.”

“Wait a minute…” Harry sits up completely. “You saw us fill them out too?”

“Yeah, it was kind of my big project, I’ve been working on it since June. I just happened to be on my way to restock the supplies when you guys went over and then that afternoon, when I read yours, I—” she starts to tear up again remembering how she felt. “I couldn’t break up with Johnny fast enough.”

It’s Harry’s turn to laugh brightly.

“Come here,” he says gesturing towards his lap.

She wastes no time climbing into the crook of his legs.

“It’s your turn to open mine, but fair warning it probably won’t beat this.”

She leans forward to grab it from under the tree and his arms snake around her waist to hold her close.

She pulls the package up onto her lap and when she settles back against him, he presses delicate kisses to the side of her head.

She peels the wrapping paper off too slowly for his liking but when she finally has it open, she starts to deflate. It’s a copy of her favorite poetry collection, one she already has.

“Harry—” She flips through the pages just a bit and discovers the real meaning behind the gift.

“I bought it earlier this year and annotated it as I read. When you announced your breakup, I went back over the things that reminded me of you in red ink, so you’d get the hint too. However, your idea was way cuter, so I understand if—”

He’s cut off by her lips on his again. She drops the book on the floor and rotates herself so she’s straddling him. His hands come up to her back and he pushes her closer.

When she pulls away tears are streaming down her face.

“This is,” she says picking the book back up, “the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me. You are just the absolute best and I love you so much.”

“Don’t cry sweet thing,” he says. He runs his thumbs under her eyes to wipe at the tears. “I’m glad you like it, it felt kind of cheesy. I originally got you a new collection of hers but when I realized I could make a move I did this too and then I started to worry it was stupid.”

She shakes her head aggressively.

“Not stupid at all. I love it so much,” she says kissing him again.

After a moment she comes up for air again and starts to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Harry says, eyes trained on her.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to make some cookies!” She looks around the room and spots the mistletoe placed above the arch of the kitchen. “Better yet,” she says, grabbing his hand and pulling him up too, “let’s cross off something on my Christmas bucket list on our way to the kitchen.”

Harry smiles fondly at the memory from their first Christmas together when they made festive bucket lists. Y/n had put “kiss under mistletoe” pretty high on it.

He stands up and follows after her excitedly. He has a feeling this will be the best Christmas yet.

[krispdreemurr]

maybe open dark worlds/fountains... interfere with wifi somehow?? i mean, your phone doesn't work in them, maybe there's like... a radius of wifi interference around entrances to dark worlds or something?

huh interesting... it'd cut into other theories I have tho like the bunker being a dark fountain or something like it that's eroded away for years (dark sinkhole?) but like, it's not like we see anyone try to check Tumblr by the creepy bunker so maybe it's fine,

[aventurineswife]

Back on my idol!Reader b.s.—

So I’ve been exploring Styxia now that 3.2 has released and I’m thinking about Reader following Dan Heng and the Trailblazer onto Amphoreus after some time has passed since they lost contact (and the hashtag WheresDanHeng is trending)—

—except Reader lands on Styxia (with practically no issue since Nikador is dead and Aquila is off doing who tf knows what).

They turn around, they see the ruins and the giant twin moons in the sky, and they’re thinking: 👀 “I could make this into a backdrop…”

And the next thing anyone knows after Reader manages to make it into Okhema, they’ve gone and made a new social media account to upload their old and new stuff like music videos and gaming streams (all of this before meeting Aglaea) and Reader’s making massive waves and their subscriber count skyrockets within less than a day.

Commoners hit the subscribe button.

Nobility hit the subscribe button.

Chrysos Heirs NPCs hit the subscribe button.

Priests hit the subscribe button.

Some of the Council of Elders hit the subscribe button.

Castorice hit the subscribe button

Hyacine hit the subscribe button and is considering a side career as a streamer or an idol.

Trailblazer hit the subscribe button and is happy to finally have some familiar entertainment (and probably starting a petition for a hologram concert in the public baths).

Dan Heng is panicking about Reader potentially drawing Aglaea’s ire (and also making him practice choreography again).

Anaxa didn’t hit the subscribe button because he’s going to die anyway and nobody knows if the Nether Realm has any WiFi, but he likes what he sees.

Aglaea is grumbling because she didn’t reach Reader in time to tell them NOT to upload anything — but even she hits the subscribe button.

This is exactly the kind of chaos I live for—Reader stepping onto a decaying divine-theocratic wasteland and going, "Yup. Influencer backdrop."

The moment they see those twin moons and the crumbling god-tech ruins, it's over. They're already posing for thumbnails and lining up camera angles like,

"New lore drop, new fit, let’s GO."

And the fact that they made an account before meeting Aglaea? Icon behavior. Not even divine wrath can stop the hustle.

The Styxian algorithm never stood a chance. One minute it’s politics and prophecy, the next minute it’s:

[LIVE] Okhema Streets Fit Check – Moonlight Edition

Styxia Ruins but Make It ✨Aesthetic✨ – Music Video Drop!

I Tried To Romance An Oracle (ft. actual divine interference)

Reacting To Trailblazer’s Ancient Dance Compilation – It’s Worse Than You Think

And the reactions? Chef’s kiss

Commoners are eating it up. Finally, content that isn’t either grim survival tips or sanctified doom.

Nobility is pretending not to care but rewatching Reader’s unboxing of holy relics ASMR at 2AM.

Priests are debating whether this counts as heresy or modern evangelism.

Hyacine is staring at Reader’s subscriber count like, “Is this... my calling?”

Trailblazer is making fan edits. Dan Heng is deeply concerned.

Aglaea is like, “I came here to tell them not to do the thing, and now I’m a fan. Dammit.”

Dan Heng trying to stop Reader from drawing Aglaea's attention while also fielding DMs like, “Are you Reader’s boyfriend? Can you do a duet??”

Meanwhile, Reader’s dragging him into a collab: “C’mon, babe. Just one dance. For the culture.”

Anaxa doesn’t have signal in his prophecy-pending tower of doom, but he’s sipping tea and silently approving like, “Good content. 8.5/10. Add subtitles.”

Reader turning a dead planet into a viral platform without even trying is so powerful. Styxia’s literally like, “We have suffered.” And Reader’s like, “And now you will have content.”

Also: yes to a public bath hologram concert. Let the divine steam rise. Let the remixes hit the ruins. Let the fan cams roll. 🗣️🔥‼️

I love this au, give me 14 of this more.

[darkmaga-returns]

Legacy media gatekeepers are losing their grip on the public conversation and they don’t like it, even if they mostly deserve it. That’s one of the reasons Vice President J.D. Vance’s speech at the Munich Security Conference was as well received by the successors to Spiro Agnew’s favorite scribes as a nationwide ban on free WiFi in press filing centers.

In the past, the default position of most in the media would be to at least grudgingly find a kindred spirit in a public figure who delivers a defense of free speech, even if they dislike the person who delivered the message or find them a flawed messenger for the First Amendment and the Fourth Estate. 

The trouble is that a nontrivial number of influential media figures no longer see themselves in such appeals to free speech, especially when a conservative political leader takes up the mantle. They see their competitors and, more charitably, the purveyors of wrongthink against whom they are the last line of defense.

This was apparent in the much-maligned question by Margaret Brennan of CBS News in which she blamed the Nazis’ “weaponization” of free speech for the Holocaust. While many have disputed the historical accuracy of her premise, she is also assuming that the anti-free speech laws in Europe can only regulate bad people, not urbane arbiters of which fruits are apples or bananas like herself.

These questions are now being debated at the highest levels of our government. “Democracy rests on the sacred principle that the voice of the people matters,” Vance said in Europe. “There is no room for firewalls. You either uphold the principle or you don’t.”

[teawitch]

Candle substitutes

(This is to answer an ask but because I go on forever, I've made it its own post)

Because I've seen this become contentious in the past, I'm going to start with a little witchy secret - if you've been to a public ritual or event where there were candles burning on the altar and you didn't see them lit - they were probably battery operated and being used to adhere to the fire regulations. Sometimes witches are practical.

For me the answer to candle substitutes comes down to - why would I be using the candle? Because different reasons might have different answers.

Altar or Shrine

On an altar or shrine to represent fire or honor a deity, a battery operated candle or even small attractive lamp might be what you're looking for. Some witches do not want electrical cords or similar intruding into their magical space so lamps would be out. I figure at this point, with wifi and such flowing through air, nothing is really without interference. But if that is the case, you could even just hold up an unlit candle or a wand to signify air. (I've never had a deity object to a really cool lamp in their space.)

Cleansing

Incense and smoke cleansing substitutes. I don't think we give enough credit to the ability for sound to cleanse spaces. It could be a bell or, more popular than people realize - play really loud head-banger rock music to clear the space then something gentler to reset everything at a calmer tone.

If you want a scent-based solution, there are diffusers available but you can also just do a simmer pot of the stove. Or buy one of those mini-crockpots and use it. Or put a bit of scent in a spray bottle and spritz the space.

Fountain Foggers Misters - cheaper than you'd expect on Amazon or your local Halloween store. Put one in attractive bowl or container and add a bit of scent. It will create a wonderful mist that you can watch swirl above the bowl.

The Emergency Tea Solution. This is my hotel room trick when I check in only to find the room feels a bit off. It also works in any place that gets very restrictive about what you can do - no candles, no warmers, no diffuses, etc. Make a cup of hot water and drop a tea bag or your favorite loose herbs into it. Walk the space using your hand to waft the steam around the room. Repeat as needed. (I've used the free Earl Grey tea provided by the hotel for this and it works. Free hotel coffee is probably horrid enough to scare away anything.)

Spells

Rewrite the spell or write a different spell. The purpose of burning things in a spell is to send energy out (or up). If you burn something, you transform the energy in that thing into spell energy. You just need another way to do that.

Breath and speech are vibrations. So chanting or speaking the words of spell will send their energy out.

Write the words on something that will biodegrade and tie it to a tree. Or for something long-lasting, like protection, write it on a windchime and hanging it in the wind.

Write the words themselves in water or alcohol and let them evaporate into the air.

And there's nothing like speaking or chanting the words while pouring a libation (alcohol is good if available) on the ground. Most gods, guides and spirits appreciate a drink now and then.

(Oh, the whole candle colors thing is fairly modern because candles being easily obtainable in a wide variety of colors is fairly modern. So feel free to be creative in your color use.)

[odessastone]

I have so many headcanons about Illari that I was saving for a fic idea but screw it.

Illari interferes with electronics and radio signals just by existing. Like you’ll know she’s nearby because suddenly comms will go static, GPS tracking will go wonky, and wifi will slow down or fail to connect at all.

Her eyes glow in the dark.

Unprotected exposure to her for too long can damage skin cells and cause a sunburn.

Every picture someone tries to take of her comes out so overexposed that you can’t even make it out.

Her death glare is so intense that anything she glares at too long will literally start smoldering and burning, like this

She’s come a long way in learning to control her powers, but she still has outbursts when she’s emotionally compromised (tired, stressed, overwhelmed, upset), and they can still be deadly. That’s part of why she isolates herself, for the safety of others.

It has not yet been FDA approved, but promising studies show that daily short-term Illari exposure may help ease the symptoms of Seasonal Affective Disorder and Vitamin D deficiency.

[nrcsfavoriteshrimps]

Where my TWST OCs were prior to NRC!!!

Shiyuu Oboete: I have to keep this one mostly a secret (for future plans), but one thing I can share is that he used to live with his elder sister until she disappeared a few years before he did.

Chase Crewel: Chase was living with Divus (referring to first name for differentiation) near campus. He often visited prior to enrolling, particularly on Bring Your Children To Work Day (which we will pretend they have LMAO). This is one of the reasons that he knows the ins and outs of the school building!

Yume Shylock: I also have to keep Yuume’s past a secret, but one thing I will share is that they were an older sibling, and vanished one day when traveling in the woods for firewood.

Ai Wuzhi: Ai Wuzhi was under a strict studying regiment after returning home from war. Her grandfather had recently passed away, so she was stuck in this situation until she was chosen by the dark mirror. Her parents were among the strongest mages, so her mother would force her into isolation and strict rules, similar to Riddle’s mother.

Inno Va’shin: Explained in his backstory.

Rocky: Rocky was stuck on the streets of a town in Pyroxene. He was homeless since he was neglected and had to fight for survival his whole life. Often, he bounced from place to place, shelter to shelter, living on whatever limited generosity was given to him. This led to developing his tough and jaded exterior. He was also suck at NRC during winter break for this reason.

Sadiya Abadi: Sadiya remained in her role of Kalim Al-Asim’s personal companion, taking care of him when Jamil could not and providing him company. Kalim’s younger siblings often tried to grab at or pull on her wings, so she kept them concealed with magic most of the time.

Binx Nevermore (last name drop!): Binx was a student at RSA. He had been searching desperately for his sibling, planning to tell them about the sanctuary they had found where they could be safe from their creator. This led to him eventually convincing the headmage of RSA and Crowley to have an exchange program, and thus sending Binx to NRC.

Anya Daggerfang: Anya lived on his own prior to NRC. He had been on rough terms with his brother, Kain, and his parents decided it would be best if the two were separated for a while. Kain attends RSA. Anya still cares about Kain deeply, but the two have been having issues since Anya’s unique magic had developed.

Emma Leech: Emma lives in the Coral Sea, attending the same elementary school their brothers and Azul did as children. Emma was often bullied for their disability, so they sought refuge by spending most of their time at NRC.

Leilani Kekoa: Leilani lived with their twin sibling, Keahi, on the Kamaile Islands. Not much is known about their past, but they both seemed to have very important jobs in their village.

Claire Voyan: Claire Voyan was an average student…or at least, that’s what she wants people to believe. Due to their psychic abilities, she had done everything she could to hide them because she just wanted to be average.

Atlas Mekanix: Atlas worked at his grandfather’s workshop, helping him run errands and pick up supplies (because he was too young to work at the time). His grandfather taught him everything he knows about engineering and inventing, leading to his passion for the industry.

Mai Dear: Mai was originally the host character of a popular children’s show in Twisted Wonderland. Due to a magical interference (partially caused by Prince Cheka during a visit to Leona), she had been brought to the physical world at NRC, despite still being a puppet/muppet.

@diasomnias-flower @bubblin-trouble @nrc-ramshackle-prefect

@floyd-leech-thing @hello-from-nrc-infirmary @nrcbookclub

@inotonline @hiding-in-your-wifi @seven-seas-octavinelle