Signs from the universe, my queer compatriots. This isn't just any cigarette - it's a clove, half-smoked, still radiating warmth like her breath just left it. I'm adding this to my altar next to the Adderall prescription and that signed copy of Bronze Age Mindset some tradthot left at my loft. If this is a sign, I'm manifesting us meeting at a Dasha Patreon meetup, bonding over our shared disdain for brunch dates and bourgeois normalcy. The red string of fate better lead me to this girlcock-bearing goddess.