Designed by John Browning, manufactured by Winchester Repeating Arms c.1897-1957 - serial number E602975. 12 gauge 5-round tubular magazine, pump action repeater, full-length 30″ barrel. I love old rifle-length shotguns.
“The fuck you mean they took him?!” You yelled. “I just saw him.” “(y/n), calm down.” Jax said patiently. “Dont tell me to fucking calm down! Tele where the fuck Ope is!” “(y/n).” Chibs warned. You glanced at him and your rage subsided. A sigh left your lips and you ran your hands through your hair. “Im sorry, Jax.” You said quietly. He nodded slowly before speaking again. “Opie came after you. He wanted to talk to you but the Chinese stopped him and took him. Prospect saw them drag him into their van.” Your body trembled and you ran your hands through your hair again. “So where is he?” You demanded. Jax sighed and shook his head. “I dont know, (y/n). But we will find him. I promise.” You nodded. “Wh-what about the kids? Should I go get them from school?” You asked. Jax and Chibs exchanged a look before Jax turned back to you. “Nah. Pick them up after school like normal and bring them to the clubhouse. Don’t leave unless you have someone with you.” You nodded slowly and he turned to Chibs. “Take her back to the clubhouse then meet us at Laroys.” Chibs nodded and they slapped each others shoulders before turning towards their bikes. You walked with Chibs and he passed you the helmet once more. You lifted it to your head and watched as they other members rode out of the driveway and down the street. “Ye alright lass?” Chibs asked you. You nodded swung your leg over the bike behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist. “We’ll find him.” He said and squeezed your knee gently and brought the bike to life.
You sat with Gemma at the bar as you watched Kenny and Ellie do their homework on the table in the clubhouse. The boys were in Church, trying to figure out where the Chinese were holding Opie and how they were gonna get him back. The kids didn’t know he was missing, you had decided not to tell them yet. There was no point worrying them when they already had so much going on. Gemma made small talk with you and you answered her questions, but you weren’t really there. You had always been close with Opie. He was the only family member you had that wasn’t completely insane. You couldn’t lose him. Those kids couldn’t lose him. You fidgeted with your fingers, praying silently that wherever he was, he would be alright. He had to be alright. The doors opened and you turned as the club filed out of Church. The kids didn’t look up and you met Chibs’ eye as he crossed the room. “You boys heading out?” Gemma asked. Jax nodded and slid his gloves onto his hands. You and Chibs watched each other closely and Jax gestured for them to head out. You stood and Chibs wrapped his arms around you tightly. His scent filled your lungs and you soaked in his touch. He looked into your eyes once more as he pulled away. “Be careful.” You whispered. Chibs nodded and followed the rest of the club outside. Gemma wrapped her arm around your shoulder and you sunk into her, as you both stood and watched the boys walk out of the clubhouse.
Chibs walked back into the clubhouse and ran his hand through his hair. They hadn’t found Opie. They still had no leads. And the thought of disappointing you was killing him. The rest of the club sat around the bar and drank. Jax offered him a beer but he shook his head. He just wanted to shower, and to sleep. The hallway was quiet as he walked through it and he assumed you would stay in Opies room. He longed to have you in his arms but you both knew now probably wasn’t the right time. Neither of you could deny the chemistry between you, and the others were beginning to notice. He knew they wouldn’t care. Of course, Opie wouldn’t be pleased but they all knew if she was going to be with anyone it was better it was Chibs and not one of the other members. Chibs would look after her. He sighed as he opened his door and saw the empty bed, and he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that you weren’t in his bed after all. He walked to the bathroom and turned it onto hot. His clothes fell to the floor and he ran a hand through his hair. What was it about you? No matter what he did, he couldn’t get the thought of you out of his mind. Your voice, as pure and sweet as if from heaven echoed through his ears and no matter how loud he had the music, you were always louder. Your eyes burnt through him and he felt so vulnerable with you, like all his demons and the scars from his pasts were open on the table. He sighed and stepped under the stream of water, letting it soak into his skin.
You tossed in the bed. It smelt like Opie and you couldn’t sleep. His scent filled your lungs and you felt sick with guilt. Of course, you were worried about your cousin. All you wanted was to have him back, safe and sound. But that wasn’t why you felt so guilty. No, guilt filled you because you should be sick with worry for him, but all you could think about was Chibs. You weren’t sure why he seemed to have such a hold of you, but when you were around him you just couldn’t resist him. He was wise beyond his years, and he emitted a sort of danger and mystery. You wanted to know everything about him. You wanted to know the story behind his scars, the story behind the pain in his eyes. You sighed and threw back the covers and hopped out of bed. You were wearing only your panties and you lifted one of Opes SAMCRO t-shirts off the ground and slid it over your body. Your footsteps were light as you walked across the room. Gemma had put the kids to sleep in an empty dorm and you didn’t want them to wake up. Quietly, you opened the door and slid into the hallway. The sound of distant talking made you lift your head. They must be back. You moved silently down the hall and it was only once you’d passed Chibs door that you stopped. You could hear the shower running inside and you gulped as the thought of him played through your mind. Minutes passed and you leant against the wall silently, listening to the sound of the shower running. Eventually the shower stopped but you still didn’t move. You could hear him moving through his room and you took a deep breath before turning and opening the door slowly. Chibs looked up, standing only in a towel, and he watched as you entered the room and closed the door behind him.
“What are you doing, lass.” He said quietly. You moved forwards, your eyes burning into his with lust and desire. “I couldn’t sleep.” You whispered. Water slid down his body and you licked your lips as you studied him. Soft footsteps carried you forwards and you stood before him. The t-shirt hung loosely around you and you looked beautiful, your hair ruffled around you and sleepy eyes. “(y/n),” Chibs whispered. You held a finger to his lips, shushing him. “Dont talk.” You whispered. You licked your lips and lifted the t-shirt over your head, letting it drop to the floor. You stood before him, wearing only your lacy black panties. Chibs gulped as his eyes ran over your body and his erection grew beneath his towel. Your finger was still on his lips and you traced it along them softly. His eyes met yours once more and you smiled softly before you stepped closer and reached up. His hands wrapped around you desperately and his lips pressed against yours. His towel fell to the ground and he lifted your body up and pinned it against the wall. A moan escaped your lips as he kissed you roughly and his body pressed against you. Your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands due into your hips, and you knew you would have bruises in the morning. Impatient lips devoured the skin on your neck and you clawed your nails down his back as he pushed his body against you, creating friction you so desperately craved. You moaned softly again as he pushed his hips forward and your hands lifted his head from your neck and you pressed your lips against his once more. He kissed you back hungrily as your hands held him to you. “Fuck me, Chibs.” You whispered against his lips. Chibs growled and pulled you away from the wall and crossed the room. He lay your body on the bed and kissed your lips roughly and hovered over you. He lowed his body and you wrapped your legs around him. You swung him over, rolling him onto his back and he gasped slightly as you knelt over him. His hands traced over the skin of your breast and you kissed down his neck hungrily. Your hand moved between your bodies and you found his large member. Licking your lips you pulled back and looked him in the eyes as you lowered yourself onto him, a moan escaping your lips as he filled you. Chibs groaned and held your hips firmly, his eyes roaming to your breasts. You rolled your hips back and forth and you moaned at the sensation of him inside of you. Passion filled your bones and his hands lifted your hips. Slowly he lifted himself into you and you gasped as his full length entered you. He repeated the movement and his thrusts blame faster as he filled you. Your hands rested either side of his face and your eyes were locked on his as he slid in and out of you. You bit your lip as he poured into you and you could feel your orgasm building. His eyes glanced to your breast that were bouncing with your body and he groaned as he felt himself nearing release. “Chibs!” You moaned loudly. He growled and pounded into you faster than before and you both found your release. You rode out your high as you both moaned and your juices flowed over him. His lips kissed yours and you held his face to yours as your bodies slowed. You rolled off of him and stared at the ceiling and you both caught your breath. His head turned to you and he studied your features, glistening with sweat. “You are so beautiful.” He said quietly. You rolled onto your side and looked at him, a smile on your face.
The next morning you sat with Gemma at the picnic table outside, a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. The boys were getting ready to go out once more. Juice thought he had a lead and they were heading out, all of them hopeful that they would return with Opie. Gemma wasn’t blind. She had seen the hickies all over your neck but for once she had kept her mouth shut. Your hair hung around your neck now, covering them from the rest of the club and you couldn’t help but smile when you thought about last night. “(y/n)?” You turned to see Ellie and Kenny standing behind you,schoolbags slung over their shoulders. “You ready?” You asked and they nodded. You gulped down the rest of your coffee before placing it on the table and standing. “C’mon.” You smiled to them. You ruffled Kennys hair as you walked to the car and he glared at you. You laughed loudly and from across the lot Gemma smiled as she watched you with the kids. Chibs walked out of the clubhouse and sat next to her on the picnic table. She smirked at him and he nudged her gently with his arm. “Shes a good kid.” Gemma said, as they watched you talking to the kids as they got into the car. Chibs nodded as he pulled a cigarette out of his pocket. “Shes good for you, Chibby.” Chibs looked at her and she winked, and both of them smirked as they watched you pull out of the lot. It was a few hours later when you were cleaning the tables in the clubhouse when you heard the roar of motorcycles fill the lot. You put down your cloth and ran to the door. The bikes were lining up and the black van was parked to the side. Your heart was beating in your chest and you thought you were going to faint when you heard the van door slide open. And there he was, slightly beaten and bruised, but still the same Opie, home in one piece. You ran across the lot and threw yourself into his arms. He laughed loudly and lowered you onto the ground. “Easy, (y/n).” He smiled down at you. “Hey, what the fuck is on your neck?” Your hand instantly went to the hickies from last night and you blushed deeply. Laughter filled the air and Opie shook his head as he looked at you. “Seriously? I get taken and you decide to fuck my brother?” Your eyes went wide as you stared at your cousin and more laughter erupted behind you. You turned to see the boys all laughing, and Chibs looking sheepish. “You knew?” You asked. Opie laughed and ruffled your hair. “Please tell me you used protection. The last thing we need is a little scottish version of you running around.”
taeyong’s hips stuttered at the feeling of his palm grasping onto the length of his semi hard member, the small touch bringing waves of pleasure to overcome his whole being. his hand jerking upwards as he brushed against the protruding veins on the underside of his aching length, the sensation urging him to repeat his last action as his thighs tensed at just imagining feeling the delicious friction overcome him once more. his gaze cascaded downwards to take sight on what was bringing him such relief, the sight causing his cheeks to flush as he gaped at the sight of his throbbing cock; the tip almost a rosy hue, sopping with small spurts of precum along the sides of his cock, and on his slender fingertips. taeyong’s lips trembled slightly with pleasure and want at the sight, the look of his cock only encouraging to continue and chase after his release with each passing second. bringing his hand up to the head of his cock, he gently swiped at the oozing cherry tip before kneading at his swollen erection. his whole being felt as if it were in a trance as he watched the way his hand lingered at the head of his cock before brushing up against the undersides of his length, repeating the action once more. soft gasps escaped taeyong’s pink lips the closer he got to his release, the bubble in his stomach tightening with each pleasurable touch to his aching member; nothing but the noises of his slick cock against his hand and his soft moans filling his ears. his abdomen flexed with each ragged breath of air he took slowly becoming harder and harder for him as his orgasm drew near. “oh shit, oh fuck, i’m gonna cum” his words coming out slightly muffled as his thighs shook, his hair drenching in sweat as he chased after his well deserved orgasm. with one last swipe against the head of his cock, taeyong came at full force, his eyes closing shut and his lips parted slightly at the feeling of pure ecstasy overtaking his whole body.
lmao okay this sucked but its 4am and i wrote this for the first time ever on a whim so!!! please jus try to ignore all the errors in this thing its late n whiplash jus Ruined Me.
CO20: *yo,k2tog* turn. purl wrong side.*k2tog,yo* turn. purlwrong side. repeat for length desired. BO loosely.
So, how many languages do you speak?
Wow! What do you speak?
English, Spanish, knitting, and crochet.
What? But...those aren't real languages.
*slides across the table a simple knitting pattern*
What is this? I can't read this. It makes no sense!
Actually it does. You see...it's a simple lace pattern. All you do i cast on 20 stitches and then work in a 4 row repeat. The first row you work a yarn over and then knit 2 stitches together. You do that all the way across and then purl evenly back on the wrong side of the work. Then on row 3 you knit 2 stitches together and then yarn over. Do that across and then purl back on the wrong side again. Repeat that 4 row repeat for the length desired and bind off loosely.
Question: Is putting in a tag to the effect of "Thank you tag wrangler!" appreciated or just more work for you?
Aw, what a sweet question!
That’s fine if you feel like doing it, though no one should feel obligated to do so. I doubt most wranglers would consider a single thank you tag “more work,” given that we don’t have to connect it to anything and can just move it over to the land where everything that doesn’t belong in a single fandom lives. It would honestly be a rather nice counter to the times people randomly curse at us in the tags. :’)
Without seeing the wrangling interface, I think it can be hard to know what’s really work and what takes a few seconds at most?
Tags that are “work”:
Unmarked OCs that might be minor characters from canon, especially a canon that doesn’t have a wiki. More info here.
Tags in a language that very few (or no) members of the Translation team speak. (Omg, if any of you speak Turkish as your first language, please apply the next time Translation recruitment is open. Please. I’m begging you. You would be a hero to wranglers.)
Confusing tags that stay in draft forever, or where the character or referenced thing doesn’t show up yet in the work, so we have no idea what the tagger really means.
You know those collections of tiny Tumblr ficlets that people put into a single work instead of a series? And then some of those people only tag with first names for characters and relationships? While tagging like a dozen fandoms, so we’re not sure which Jack and which Harry they meant? Yeah. Full names are a wrangler’s best friends.
Generic character or fandom names being used for different characters or fandoms, forcing us to do the disambig dance. It’s not the fun kind of dance. It’s more like the macarena out of tune with zombies kind of dance. Save us from the macarena zombies. More info here.
Works tagged with RPF fandoms but that have just fictional characters, and works tagged with a fictional fandom that have just real people characters. More info here. (This is one of those things people yell at us for in the tags, but we have no control over it.)
Tags that are easy:
Single-use freeforms/additional tags that clearly either have a filterable meaning or not. Syn and done or move and done. Wranglers can handle hundreds in an hour if they’re all clear, regardless of length. To repeat: we don’t care about length! Chatty is fine. “Tumblr-style” is fine. It’s not more work for us.
Using a tag that already exists (canonical or not) for the same meaning that it was originally used for. We never even have to look at it.
Original characters that are marked with (OC) or something like that. So fast, much move.
Characters from canon with their full names used, or if they only have one name, the fandom name in parentheses after it.
Relationships using characters’ full names.
Fandom tags that use the full fandom name, and if that’s kind of generic, having the media or author or year in the tag as well (depending on which makes the most sense for the fandom). No longer the sad, plaintive wails of “which Empire? which Librarians? which Ghost?” No more zombie dance.
Basically, every time a tag is clear and unambiguous, a wrangler smiles.
'A week or two before the paper was due, he had started showing up in my room about two or three in the morning, looking as if he had just narrowly escaped some natural disaster, his tie askew and his eyes wild and rolling. “Hello, hello,” he would say, stepping in, running both hands through his disordered hair. “Hope I didn’t wake you, don’t mind if I cut on the lights, do you, ah, here we go, yes, yes.…” He would turn on the lights and then pace back and forth for a while without taking off his coat, hands clasped behind his back, shaking his head. Finally he would stop dead in his tracks and say, with a desperate look in his eye, “Metahemeralism. Tell me about it. Everything you know. I gotta know something about metahemeralism.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what that is.”
“I don’t either,” Bunny would say brokenly. “Got to do with art or pastoralism or something. That’s how I gotta tie together John Donne and Isaac Walton, see.” He would resume pacing.
“Bunny, I don’t think ‘metahemeralism’ is even a word.”'
'Late that night—two a.m.—my house chairperson pounded on my door and yelled that I had a phone call. Dazed with sleep, I put on my bathrobe and stumbled downstairs. It was Francis. “What do you want?” I said.
“Richard, I’m having a heart attack.” I looked with one eye at my house chairperson —Veronica, Valerie, I forget her name —who was standing by the phone with her arms folded over her chest, head to one side in an attitude of concern. I turned my back. “You’re all right,” I said into the receiver. “Go back to sleep.”
“Listen to me.” His voice was panicky. “I’m having a heart attack. I think I’m going to die.”
“No you’re not.”
“I have all the symptoms. Pain in the left arm. Tightness in chest. Difficulty breathing.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to come over here and drive me to the hospital.”
“Why don’t you call the ambulance?” I was so sleepy my eyes kept closing.
“Because I’m scared of the ambulance,” said Francis, but I couldn’t hear the rest because Veronica, whose ears had pricked up at the word ambulance, broke in excitedly.
“If you need a paramedic, the guys up at the security booth know CPR,” she said eagerly. “They’re on call from midnight to six. They also run a van service to the hospital. If you want me to I’ll—”
“I don’t need a paramedic,” I said. Francis was repeating my name frantically at the other end.
“Here I am,” I said.
“Richard?” His voice was weak and breathy. “Who are you talking to? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Now listen to me—”
“Who said something about paramedic?”
“Nobody. Now listen. Listen,” I said, as he tried to talk over me. “Calm down. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I want you to come over. I feel really bad. I think my heart just stopped beating for a moment. I—”
“Are drugs involved?” said Veronica in a confidential tone.
“Look,” I said to her, “I wish you’d be quiet and let me hear what this person is trying to say.”
“Richard?” said Francis. “Will you just come get me?Please?”
There was a brief silence.
“All right,” I said, “give me a few minutes,” and I hung up the phone.'
'Access to the snail's interior was gained by a child-sized tunnel.[...] From this tunnel, I was extremely startled to see protruding a pair of adult male feet, shod in some oddly familiar brown-and-white spectator shoes. I caught and shook a bony kneecap. 'Charles.'
He began to flounder wildly, as if he had waked to find himself in ten feet of water. At length, and after repeated assurances that I was who I said I was, he fell on his back again, breathing hard.
'Richard,' he said thickly. 'Thank God. I though you were some kind of creature from space.''
'"Richard old Man
are you Frozen? it is quite warm here. We live in a Penscione (sp.) I ordered Conche by mistake yesterday in a restaurant it was awful but Henry ate it. Everybody here is a damn Catholic."'(Bunny's letter)
The barmaid- in her fifties, with turquoise eye shadow and lots of turquoise rings to match- looked us over, our suits and ties. She seemed startled by Charles's order of two double whiskeys and a club sandwich. [...] When his sandwich came he picked it apart, ate the bacon and left the rest, while I drank my drink and watched the Lakers.
''Now,' he said. 'A single cap, roughly this size, of A. phalloides is enough to make a healthy seventy-pound dog quite ill. [...]'
'Henry, how do you know this?'
He was silent for a moment. Then he said, 'Do you know those two horrible boxer dogs who belong to the couple who live upstairs?'
It was dreadful but I had to laugh, I couldn't help it. 'No' I said. 'You didn't.'
'I’m afraid I did,'he said dryly, mashing out his cigarette.'
''The poison doesn't take effect for at least twelve hours,'he said. 'So even if I overdose I'll have a certain advantage, a grace period. With an antidote on hand for myself, just in case...'
'An antidote?' I said, jarred, leaning back in my chair. 'Is there such a thing?'
'Atropine. It's in deadly nightshade.'
'Well, Jesus, Henry. If you don't finish yourself off with one you will with the other.''
'We went through a brief spate of target practice, shooting at mason jars that were lined on a wicker tea-table we'd dragged into the yard. But that came to a quick end when Henry, who was very nearsighted, shot and killed a duck by mistake. He was quite shaken by it and we put the pistol away.'
'The guard turned quickly, and somehow his gaze landed not on Henry but on Francis, who was standing staring into space. "So it's you, is it?" he said with venom. "Mr Off-Campus who thinks he can park in the faculty parking lot."
Francis started, a wild look in his eye.
"Yes, you. You know how many unpaid violations you're carrying? Nine. I turned your registration in to the Dean just last week. They can put you on probation, hold your transcripts, what have you. Suspend your library priveledges. If it was up to me they'd put you in jail."
Francis gaped at him. Henry caught him by the sleeve and pulled him away. [...]
"Why the hell haven't you paid those parking tickets?" Henry whispered to him.
"Leave me alone."'
'What I did experience when alone was a sort of general neurotic horror, a common attack of nerves and self-loathing magnified to the power of ten. Every cruel or fatuous thing I’d ever said came back to me with an amplified clarity, no matter how I talked to myself or jerked my head to shake the thoughts away; old insults and guilts and embarrassments stretching clear back to childhood—the crippled boy I’d made fun of, the Easter chick I’d squeezed to death—paraded before me one by one, in vivid and mordant splendor.'
'"Well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o'clock, you hardly think what you're going to feed the corpse for dinner."
"Asparagus is in season," said Francis helpfully.'
'Once, over dinner, Henry was quite startled to learn from me that men had walked on the moon. 'No,' he said, putting down his fork. 'Its true,' chorused the rest, who had somehow managed to pick this up along the way. "I don't believe it."
Summary:After Living with Jumin for quite some time you try to remember the life you had before him, but he makes things so easy to forget.
Ada’s Notes: Firstly, a quick disclaimer: I love Jumin with all my heart. He’s def my favorite character out of the MM peeps. And I am aware he is problematic (which is where this fic sort of originates) but I love how you slowly have to come to understand him and he opens up to you. Now, this fic is notabout you understanding him. I wrote this right after getting his famous Bad Ending 2, and of course my mind went to very dark places (when does it not really?).
This is the first time I write this kind of smut, so it might not seem like much to some people, but to me it was a whole new territory (which I was glad to discover with Jumin hehe).
Also since this fic is so long I decided to place it under the cut after the first paragraph. Also to keep chaste eyes pure if you aren’t into this sort of things.
Warning/Triggers: Dark Jumin (as in possessive, obsessive, and unstable) / Some bondage / NSFW (obvi) / slight loss of control kink / slight pet kink / brainwashing
Everything aches. That’s most of what you know, or what you’ve known for quite some time now. Your breaths are still uneven, although it has been hours since he finished for the night. You can’t smell the musk of sex in the air anymore, he gathered you in his arms and took a bath with you as soon as he had been satisfied — you can’t really remember anything apart from that, you were ready to fade into darkness before that happened.
Before we get into the grunt of the post, I feel it is best
that I first cover some magical theory. Not all will agree with me, I
understand that and seek not to change solid opinion, but inform those who do
not know or those who are curious in regard to other systems of belief held
around familiar totems. With that being said:
Where does the power come from?
I know that seems quite general a question, but it’s
important to understand the source of power that one must imbue magical items
with. I, personally, have a mixed background on the matter and thereby have a
mixed methodology in creating magical jewelry. The animist in me imbues these
items with spirit – I use this method when creating an amulet or talisman ruled
by a specific spirit. For me, these become as much devotional as magical. They
become not only an item used to bring about protection or drawing, but an item
to solidify a connection to a specific spirit. As an example, I have two
bracelets and a necklace that are connected to my yayá, Rosa Caveira, so as to
keep her close at hand. I wear them both as a sign of my devotion as well as a
link to her power and energy. In essence, this loosely parallels the use of
collares/elekes. The source of power is the blending energy of Rosa’s force and
my own, it is a symbiotic relationship.
The other type of magical “accessories” I employ are those
not bound to spirit. These are the ones I use more readily and are the
collection of items, symbols, herbs, etc. – each with its own signature – that,
when brought together and aimed with intent, transform something from mundane
to magical. In the case, the source of
the power is the signature: the
blending of items (that possess their own signature), the ambient
energy/current of the Universe/etc., and your own – which come together in a
way to serve what purpose you desire of it.
As an aside, this ambient energy/current of the Universe is
what I really wanted to talk about with this question. All that is
is comprised of energy: there is “raw” energy (electricity, plasma, etc.), the
energy of motion, gravity, and all matter which is comprised of slow moving
energy. Think atomically – these vibrating particles that sustain us and all
things. Everything is energy and energy is everywhere. All things possess the
current of the Universe, and it can be drawn from anywhere, and it is the key to witchcraft. When a witch draws
from him/herself, they are drawing from the Current. When the witch draws from herb
and curio, they are drawing from the Current (through the particular lens or
signature of that item). When they draw from the Earth, the moon, the cosmos,
they draw from the Current. And when the draw from the Gods or the Universe,
they are drawing from the Current. So, in essence, both methods stem from the
same source and thereby work equally as well, it simply depends on which course
I cannot say much on the specific construction of these
items because there is no specific way to
construct them, as there are ways innumerable. They can be comprised of simple
things: a stone, a slip of paper, a coin, etc. Or they can be made of a
collection of things, expertly combined for a very pointed purpose. They can be
forged in gold, set with diamonds, emeralds and rubies, or sticks, stones, herbs
and bones carried in a mojo bag. There are no instructions save the ones of
your tradition or the ones of your imagination. Do not be afraid to get
creative and trust, above all, your intuition.
This is without a doubt the most important part of creating
an amulet/charm/talisman. This, too, can be simple or complex. For instance,
drawing a sigil or prayer on a sheet of paper, in clay, or on a stone to carry
is – in itself – a means of charging. Not only does this writing lend itself to
the construction, but to the charging as well. The same can almost be said of combining using the
law of signatures, except there remains that small missing piece of intent.
While you create, you may speak over the ingredients their purpose, add to them
a symbol charged with intent or fumigate the charm with smoke from your lips. These
methods may be unnecessary for some seasoned professionals, who subconsciously
imbue each ingredient with specific purpose that combine to form a collective
purpose during creation, but for those new to the art, I recommend making sure
to pointedly note your intent. Clarity is always a great quality to any spell.
Another important facet to charm/amulet/talisman
construction is to feed the curio. Many traditions have varying ways of
accomplishing this, from oil or alcohol dressing, smoke and prayer charging, or
even simply the act of holding the fetish and reminding it of its role.
Personally, I’m rather fond of oil dressing, but do what feels right to you or
what is dictated by your own tradition.
You guessed it: the means for disposal are as varied as the
means for creation. Nonetheless, this step is very important, for after the
item serves its purpose, it needs to be properly retired. Some have a much
longer “life expectancy” than others, for instance: a protective amulet will be
tasked with serving you much longer than a love-drawing talisman. In the case
of amulets, it may be carried until it begins to show wear or improper
maintenance (falling apart, symbols smearing or chipping, etc.) at which point
is should be retired and deconstructed (if comprised of multiple components).
Once it has been retired, and it’s parts cleansed, it can then be reconstructed
or constructed anew until it once again shows sign of disrepair. Wash, rinse, repeat. The length of time
a talisman is carried depends heavily on how long it takes to accomplish its
task, and once that task is completed, it’s important to dispose of it
properly. Some methods include: burial (often at a specific location:
graveyard, crossroads, yard, etc.), fire, deconstruction, and feeding into
running water. I recommend the same here as I have above: trust your intuition or
your tradition about how best to get rid of a specific charm.
Any questions I’d be happy to answer to the best of my
Can you do a one shot where you and harry have been daiting for awhile and he catches some punk trying to kiss you and he gets all protective? Oh and can you add some smut;) thanks love your work!!!!
You don’t know if you’ve ever seen Harry so quiet.
His hands are wrapped tight around the steering wheel, jaw clenched and muscles taut. Next to him in the passenger seat, you struggle with the idea of trying to speak to him or let him cool off on his own. Even though you know he’s not angry with you, you can’t help feeling a little guilty. Maybe if you had taken Harry’s suggestion to go home early instead of insisting on a few more dances, one more drink or two, then that drunken idiot wouldn’t have staggered over and put his hands all over you. The man (you didn’t bother to get his name, only knowing that he was an acquaintance of a friend of a friend) had been sloppy and uncoordinated, and although he was tall and heavy on you, you’d managed to push him off of you easily enough. You caught Harry’s eye from over several people’s heads, and you remember clearly the sharp look in his eye, his face showing annoyance as he waited by the bar to bring you your drink. It was when you were trying to communicate with him from across the room that you were okay, that you had things under control, that Drunk Man had groped your ass and pressed his clammy face to your neck in a terrible excuse for an affectionate gesture.
You’d barely gotten over your revulsion when Harry appeared seemingly out of nowhere, and with a fierce right hook he had sent Drunk Man sprawling to the floor. Shock rippled through the small crowd of onlookers, several of whom knew Harry on some level and never thought they’d see the day when he socked someone in the face, yet there he had stood over the guy’s prone body, and you had scarcely seen him look so menacing. Fists clenched and ready for round two, Harry would have none of it when whoever it was that had come with Drunk Man tried to pick his inebriated, sexually aggressive friend off the ground, looking appropriately ashamed as he attempted to apologize for whatever transgressions had been committed. Amid various obscenities and admonishments and threats, Harry wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you so tightly to his side that you were almost purely leaning against him, and hauled your speechless self off to angrily collect your coats and then it was out to the car.
in the bath, this was your down time for the day. The water was warm as it
engulfed your body, relaxing any stresses that had been caused by the long day.
The jets beat against your sore muscles, but you felt like there was still
something a little too tense. Opening your eyes to look up at the shower head,
you sat up a little bit, your upper half coming out of the water.
cold air made you wrap your arms around your chest. You were about to turn to
grab your bath salts, but the way your legs moved under the water, it, for a
moment, exposed your bare crotch to the hard stream of the jet that was closest
to you. You gasped out slightly and widened your eyes, quickly moving out of
the way out of instinct. However, once you had gotten out of the way, your heat
throbbed once and made your heart beat quicker for a moment. It took you a
moment to realize what it meant, but your brain registered it as feeling good
so slowly, you moved yourself back in front of the steady stream.
eyes shut and you pursed your lips. Your hands came out of the water to hold
onto the edge of the tub, making it a little steadier for you to open your legs
a little wider and expose more of your sensitive core. You let out a breath and
let your head fall back slightly, giving yourself up to the jet. Your nipples
were becoming erect as you got more and more turned on. You were feeling quite
relaxed at the same time though, so it seemed like a win-win situation.
started moving like you would if you were riding your boyfriend, rising and
falling so the stream would get not just your clit, but your folds and actual
entrance as well. Your breathing started to get heavier and denser. It was
started to become uneven and harder to control. You moved your hips forwards,
getting closer to where the water initially came out. You let out a soft sigh,
letting your whole relax.
wasn’t even something you planned, you just started rolling your hips into the
stream. Your mind created images in your head, putting Liam underneath you. It
seemed like you were riding him and the sensation between your legs made it so
much more real.
were jolted out of your edging session, your whole body flying back into the
tub, ripping yourself away from the jet stream, when there was a knock on the
bathroom door. Your whole face heated up as the water started to settle around
Liam’s muffled voice came from the other side and you cleared your throat.
can come in Liam,” you said back, trying to compose yourself in the few seconds
you had before he opened the door.
bathroom door opened, casting a shadow over you for a moment as Liam stepped in
and shut it behind him. He kept his back to you for a moment before turning
around and looking down at you, smiling brightly.
I join you?” he asked softly, keeping that wonderful smile plastered on his
face. You nodded your head and smiled back, sitting up and moving forwards to
create a space behind you for him.
pulled his sweater over his head, tugging his t-shirt off seconds later. You
couldn’t really focus on him at the moment, the jets seemed to be taunting you.
It was all you could think about, and as glad as you were that Liam was home,
you wished he would’ve waited a couple more seconds so you would be able to
reach your climax.
clit was aching for more and with all the jets and bubbles on the surface you
were tempted to slip one of your hands between your legs to continue it, but
Liam got in before you could make a decision.
arms went around your waist and he pulled you back against his chest. Chuckling
out quietly, you let yourself slide back against him and let your head fall
back against his shoulder. You could feel his hands resting on your lower
stomach, awfully close to your heat. You knew you were supposed to be relaxing,
but with the sexual desire settled in the pit of your stomach, you were almost
desperate for Liam or something else to finish getting you off.
you whispered, grabbing one of his hands and slowly lowering it to your heat.
he whispered, but it came out as more of a statement when he could feel his
hand against you. “Oh…” he chuckled softly, taking your not so subtle hint and
pulling his hand back. “I have a better idea… turn over okay? So you’re
straddling me…” he murmured.
any other moment you would have gone slowly to tease him, but your body was
screaming from the inside that it needed something, anything and Liam was
always your favourite, always your number one. You rolled yourself over so you
were sitting on his upper thighs. You needed to get him hard first, so putting
your hands under the water. You grasped your fingers around his soft length, working
your fingers down the shaft slowly. Liam looked at you and smirked softly, his
hazel eyes getting darker.
took a few moments, but slowly, you could feel him starting to get erect under
the water. He started getting harder in your hand, his veins starting to pop up
around the shaft. You bit your lip softly and started getting impatient.
normally doesn’t take this long…” you murmured, pulling your hand away when you
were finally satisfied with how hard he was.
he chuckled softly, looking down before looking back up at you again. “That
good?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you, pursing his lips as you nodded.
yourself up on your knees, your lower half came out of the water. You looked
down and held Liam’s length up straight, pushing the tip past your folds and
prodding the tip on your entrance. You breathed out softly and slowly let yourself
slide down his shaft. Your walls wrapped around him and you could feel him
reach his hardest. His veins were pushing against your walls, and when you
looked down, you could see you were fairly stretched out around him.
began loosening up more and more as the wetness began building up and you
started getting more turned on. It was getting easier to slide up and down over
his length, repeating the movements you had made when the jet had been your
source of pleasure. Liam held onto your hips gently and had his mouth dropped
open. You sunk down on him and instead of pulling back up, you started to grind
against his pelvic ball, rocking your hips forwards enough so your clit brushed
against the skin just above where his actual genitals started. Silent moans
were leaving your mouth, your own breaths getting caught in the back of your
feel good beautiful?” Liam panted out, sliding his hands up your sides before
falling back down again. You nodded and finally a whimper came from your lips.
You furrowed your eyebrows in pleasure and your stomach did flips. You were
close and you knew you were.
I’m close…” you whispered, whimpering out again and putting your hands onto his
hands flew up to your wrists and he held them gently, nodding his head to agree
with you. Both of you were breathing heavily, and just before your high
actually hit, you pulled off of him and released as soon as you pulled off.
Liam’s release shot up onto his stomach and he groaned out deeply. The sloshing
bathwater washed away the mess quickly.
boyfriend looked up at you and pulled you down towards him, scrambling to grab
onto you and pressing his plump lips against yours. You moaned out at the
contact and rested your hands on his chest, the pads of your fingers digging
into his skin gently. When you pulled back, your lips smacked slightly and
heavy breathing filled the room.
felt in a haze but the only thing you could think to do was let out a breathy
chuckle, biting your lip softly and blowing out another breath as you started
to calm down.
Love. You…” he mumbled softly, pushing some of the damp hair away from your
you too…” you murmured softly, smiling gently and humming out quietly. “We
should get out… the water is getting cool,” you giggled, sitting yourself up
and reaching down the length of the tub to pull the drain.
slipped out of the tub and steadied yourself before reaching to grab a towel.
You wrapped it around yourself and grabbed another one for Liam. He stood up
laughing softly and stepping into it, sliding his arms around your waist.
beautiful girl… Let’s go to bed… We both had long days…” His thumbs brushed
under your eyes, swiping over the bags. “It’s bed time for my baby girl…”
Star Fox Zero: The motion controls are a natural addition to existing Star Fox gameplay. Really feels like piloting an advanced fantasy starfighter. Accuracy is top notch and I love switching between tv and gamepad views. I wonder if difficulty will reach Sin and Punishment levels!
Blast Ball: At first, it seemed simple with Wolfenstein 1 type running and gunning. However, you can lock on the ball then use the gyro to hit particular parts of the ball for different effects, such as a pop fly or top spin. Fast paced and intense!
Mario and Luigi Paper Jam: Turn-based rpg battles with quick time action prompts. Very similar to Mario and Luigi Dream Team. Paper Mario is out of place, but amusing. Special attacks’ length can make repeated use tiring.
I don’t blog normally so these posts are a bit out of place. Please understand. E3 was very exciting, and I was happy to meet Nintendo staff, play games, and see the industry!
Elizabeth, still more affected, was earnest and solemn in her reply; and at length, by repeated assurances that Mr. Darcy was really the object of her choice, by explaining the gradual change which her estimation of him had undergone, relating her absolute certainty that his affection was not the work of a day, but had stood the test of many months suspense, and enumerating with energy all his good qualities, she did conquer her father’s incredulity, and reconcile him to the match.
Meg had specifically gone into The Underworld when she knew Hades was busy and wouldn’t be around. She wasn’t entirely sure he was going to be around much, things as they were, but she didn’t want to risk it. She’d come to a nearly immediate and firm decision about what she needed to do to finish cutting ties and she just wanted it done. Her first act was to slip back into his office to leave the note stating that she quit, effective immediately. Her second was to sit at the bar she’d spend so much time on the other side of and have a glass of wine. The third would be to leave and never return.
The parts she hadn’t planned on were the way memories committed sharp assaults, and the lingering smell of him nearly did her in as she stood in a place so many things had happened to her and them. She hadn’t planned on feeling unsteady. She also hadn’t planned on feeling someone watching her move through the space she was so acquainted with. By the time she sat at the bar and actually had their attention, she was incredibly uncomfortable with the entire thing.
“I’m having one glass and then I’m gone, so whatever you want – it can wait. Unless what you want is the pleasure of my company, because I can promise you right now it’ll be a disappointment.”
So the big reveal in episode 3x03 was that the Leda original and Castor original were brother and sister!!!! This is super exciting news, something I had been hoping for the entire hiatus, so it’s time for an OB Science Time to discuss how Cosima figured this out!
Microsatellites, or Small Tandem Repeats (STRs) are roughly 2-5 base pair long molecular markers often used in DNA fingerprinting analysis (which includes kinship tests). These microsatellites are often found in regions of the genome that are noncoding (not part of a gene), and can be used to identify people due to varying lengths of the repeat sequences. For instance, a certain STR might be GCTT, and one person will have it repeated 10 times at that location, but another person has it repeated 20 times. When these regions of the DNA are analyzed, these differences are detected.
How can these microsatellites tell us that people are related? Well you inherit one copy of every chrosome from one parent and the other copy from your other parent. When these sequences are analyzed, that area of the genome is isolated and amplified using PCR (polymerase chain reaction) which, simplisticly, cuts out a specified region of the DNA and makes many millions of copies of it in a short time. This amplified region can then be run out on a gel, and the banding patterns can be analyzed for similarities.
In the case of Cosima and Scott, Cosima’s goal was to try to find similar sythentic sequences in the two genomes, so she sequenced Seth’s DNA and then ran it alongside Leda DNA to try to find some similarities. However, because they are related, there was much more shared DNA than a few synthetic sequences. The loci Scott refers to are known markers of these microsatellites, and most likely locations of SNPs (single nucleotide polymorphisms, areas of commonly mutated DNA also used in ID assays), and they showed much more commonality than ever would be expected of anyone except relatives.
Pretty awesome stuff! Personally I’m excited about this, because it definitely opens the door for the possibility of Leda and Castor being the cures for each other’s diseases, as well as all sorts of other implications.
As always, my ask is open for any questions/discussion, and you can check out OB Science Time here!