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#a leif classic
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Charmaine J Forde
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Dylan Thomas, Poem in October
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Leif Enger, Peace Like a River
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Angela Carter, The Magic Toyshop
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Anne Sexton
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Sarah Guillory, Reclaimed
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everydaym0nstrosity · 2 months
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Lobby Cards for Peopletoys AKA Devil Times Five & The Horrible House On The Hill (1974), Dir. Sean MacGregor & David Sheldon.
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meikerrdehan75 · 2 years
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Joan Jett and Lita Ford with Leif Garrett at The Rock 'N Roll Sports Classic, 1978
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youtube
Jón Leifs (1899-1968) - Reminiscence du Nord for string orchestra
String section of the Iceland Symphony Orchestra, conducted by En Shao
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vergess · 2 years
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I have to physically restrain myself from typing 'Cecil Palmero' every time I try to talk about the Night Vale character and this is directly the fault of @erinptah
I have given up on saying the correct name out loud entirely. One of these days I am going to accidentally convince someone who doesn't listen to WTNV that his name just is Palmero. Palmer who? Never heard of her!
Certified brain rewrite, that is.
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screamscenepodcast · 2 years
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This week your hosts head to Norway for DE DØDES TJERN (1958), translated as LAKE OF THE DEAD, from director Kåre Bergstrøm!
What happens when a group of friends go to a lone cabin in the woods near a haunted lake? ...Murder!
Your hosts talk Norwegian film, Riksmål and the Norwegian language conflict, and author André Bjerke.
Context setting 00:00; Synopsis 35:07; Discussion 45:40; Ranking 1:09:29
Also, thank you dear Creatures of the Night for your patience for this and other upcoming episodes as Sarah battles strep throat!
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blueheartedwolf · 4 months
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At the bar with two beautiful T4T women god still my shaking hands
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eardefenders · 3 months
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Sherlock & Co - Mailbag Episode 2 Transcript
00:00-00:30 Intro Music
00:27-00:34 *Sounds of a violin playing fade in*
00:34 Sherlock: You see? You see what I mean?
00:37 John: I…don’t.
00:39 Sherlock: Listen! *scoffs* Listen, closely this time. Shh. *resumes playing the bit from the fade in*
00:43 John: Argh. *pause* For God’s sake.
*Sherlock keeps playing*
00:46 John: Sherlock, please mate. We’ve got questions to get through here.
*Sherlock keeps playing*
00:52 John: Maaaate. Matey, mate mate mate mate.
00:55 Sherlock: Did you hear it this time?
00:57 John: Yeah. Sure. Uhh, right. So let’s dive into the discord chat. The brand spanking new discord for Sherlock and Co members. Brimming with Stamfords, Irregulars, and Diogene-sohmy God. There’s thousands of messages. Um, right. Should probably been keeping tabs on those questions. All right I’m going to scroll up and pick one f-from um the sssixteenth of January. Here we go! Come on down…IdleVice! Uh, your question is, “If you could make a Spotify playlist for each other of your own favorite songs, what would some of the highlights be and would you be willing to share the playlists with us. Ooh hoohoho. Uuuhhm. I don’t know if I’d ever get around to actually, y’know, putting the playlist together, as, as such, but what I-I would get Sherlock to listen to. Ummm mmmm probably Elbow? Elbow are a band from the north of England. Uh, Salford I think. But they have, uh, a few strings sort of. I-I don’t know what it’s called-but, elements that involve violins. Um, and all that jazz. Heh. Uh well not jazz! Uh, literally, not jazz. Uh, yeah, Sherlock, what about me?
02:07 Sherlock: Hm?
02:08 John: If you could make a playlist of songs for me what would it be?
02:12 Sherlock: I probably would never do that, Watson.
02:16 John: Okay. Uh, could you expand on that?
02:19 Sherlock: It’s a task that I wouldn’t find that fulfil-Vivaldi.
02:23 John: Uhh, right. Vivaldi. Yep. Anything else pop into mind?
02:29 Sherlock: Pop.
02:31 John: Pop? Is that-what’s that?
02:33 Sherlock: It’s a genre of music.
02:35 John: Uh, right, you’d make a pop playlist for me?
02:38 Sherlock: I’d probably enlist Mrs. Hudson to do that.
02:41 John: Fair enough. And why pop?
02:43 Sherlock: Because it’s an abbreviation for ‘popular music’.
02:45 John: No, I know that.
02:47 Sherlock: You like popular culture, therefore pop music could very well be your cup of green tea.
02:54 John: It’s, it’s just cup of tea. Bu-uh-uh, well, okay, uh, thank you for that. Uh, back to the discord dudes and dudettes. Um, not that I was implying any kind of masculine energy to the use of the word dudes. Dudes will remain, uh, um, an-an-an-androgynous here. My…dudes. Bit like the word mate! I do throw it around. Ummm. Some people just think it’s for blokes. Don’t know why. Uh, anyway. Here we go. Leaf-onk, layff, layfonk? I hope I’m saying that right. Uh, Leif-Leif*onk* asks, ‘Has Sherlock ever hit a vape?”
03:28 Sherlock: Yes.
03:29 John: Lovely. They’d also like to know the flavor.
03:31 Sherlock: Menthol.
03:32 John: D-do you want to expand?
03:35 Sherlock: Mm, not really.
03:37 John: Did you like it?
03:38 Sherlock: It was satisfactory, I suppose.
03:41 John: *sighs* Another thrilling q and a session with the master detective. Here we go! Number one archie fan-He-he-heeyyy! Archie! Found your number one fan mate. Heh. Think they also go by potpourri. Not sure. Don’t really know how discord works because I was born in 1989. Anyway! Number one Archie fan asks, do you have a favorite classical piece? Or a favorite composer, perhaps?
04:05 Sherlock: Mozart, generally. Can often be tied to my mood. What about Vivaldi? You said Vivaldi earlier?
04:12 Sherlock: That was a recommendation to you.
04:14 John: But not you?
04:14 Sherlock: Definitely not.
04:16 John: Great.
04:17 Sherlock: Uh, Mozart, Bach, Tchaikovsky. But I am often driven by whatever phase I feel I’m in.
04:23 John: And we’re in a Mozart phase now, are we?
04:26 Sherlock: We are indeed.
04:27 John: Fab. Right, uh, Reeonk asks-ohkay, ok, I see what you’re doing now. Cause of. Cause of Jonk. Okahaha. Let’s all laugh at Jonk-John, I mean.
04:40 Sherlock: *laughs*
04:41 John (affectionately): Oh, ge-Shut up, you big idiot.
04:44 Sherlock: *still laughing*
04:45 John (affectionately annoyed): Shut it. Ha. Uhhhh, we’ll cut that bit. I swear to God. Right! Reonk, who I think also goes by Perfo, if I click here. But yes, as I was saying, millennial at the wheel. Sorry. Reonk’s first question, “Hey John, if you were an animal, what animal would you be?” Uhhhum, *clicks tongue* look, I’ve got to be something airborne. Um, uh I’m sorry, but I have to. Y-y-you can’t have the chance to fly and turn it down, so, uh, I’m a bird.
05:09 Sherlock: Or a bug.
05:10 John: S-s-sorry?
05:11 Sherlock: Bugs. Insects. They’re airborne. Hm, as is some bacteria.
05:16 John: Great, yeah. Let me just decide between a gnat and a germ.
05:19 Sherlock: By all means. Take your time.
05:21 John: I’m being sarcastic. I’m not a bug and I’m not bloody…germs. I’m. *sighs* I mean it’s too much pressure being an eagle, isn’t it. Um, *clicks tongue three times* I don’t want to be something that’s crap at flying, like a swan or a goose or something. Shoutout to Heather, by the way. Ehhh, aw come on John, come on John. Um. Ooo! Tell you what. Now this is going to sound stupid, but if it was my brain in the animal-
05:47 Sherlock: Yes, this is going to sound stupid.
05:49 John: Shh-sh-shh. Yes, if it was me. In the animal. I’m going pigeon.
05:54 Sherlock: Pigeon?
05:55 John: Pigeon. Ehh? Right, listen, ok. I can still live in the city. I cou-I could even live in my room, really.
06:01 Sherlock: You absolutely cannot.
06:03 John: What? Why not?
06:04 Sherlock: I’m not flatsharing with a bloody pigeon, Watson.
06:06 John: It’s me.
06:07 Sherlock: Yes, in the body of a pigeon.
06:09 John: Listen, let me finish my point. I’m a pigeon. I’ve got my room. I can fly about London, y’know? See all the sites, dive bomb some tourists, do a little poo on the House of Commons. I could nick a bit of decent grub. Yeah, go on walks with Archie and Mariana in the park. And no one is the wiser. If I was an eagle or a, y’know, like an albatross, I couldn’t do that, could I? No? It’d be great flying across town, even take the tube. Saw a pigeon on the tube the other day.
06:39 Sherlock: Yes, you said. Twice.
06:41 John: I could look through people’s windows, you know go in their gardens, on their patios….That makes me sound creepy, doesn’t it? Ah, pigeon! *clears his throat* The answer is pigeon. Second question, “What kitchen appliance would you be?” *clicks tongue twice and sucks air in thorough his teeth* Hm. Not being a microwave. No way, don’t get cleaned enough and, uh, having curries and bloody pizzas blowing up inside me, geezus. Uh, fridge. Maybe. Mmm, but I’d see a lot of rotting food, wouldn’t I? Especially if people are away for a while. Probably go with something fun, y’know something where I come out of the pantry or the, y’know, the cupboard or whatever, and all the family go ‘yaayyy, heyhey here he is!’-Wafflemaker, I’d be a wafflemaker. Everyone loves waffles. No one’s getting board of me. I’m getting cleaned. Perfect. Pigeon and a wafflemaker. Ha! That’s not a bad name for our band, eh Sherlock?
07:32 Sherlock: We’re not making a band.
07:33 John: Yeahhh, it was a joke. Right! It’s biscuit time! Saren says ‘Question for Sherlock: What kind of biscuits are, in your opinion, the best?
07:42: *sound of someone walking away*
07:43 John: Uhh, what’re you doing?
07:44 Sherlock: Answering the question.
07:44 John: Well, that would involve sitting down and talking into the mic.
07:48 Sherlock *sound of papers*: Here.
07:49 John: This…is an essay….on biscuits.
07:52 Sherlock: Yes.
07:54 John: By you.
07:55 Sherlock: Yes.
07:56 John: Okay.
07:58 Sherlock: Well, read it. My findings are in there.
08:01 John: Whaaa…it’s thirty-nine pages long.
08:03 Sherlock: Indeed.
08:04 John: Thi-this is supposed to be a snappy question and answer segment. Y’know it’s supposed to be a patreon reward, not a bloody punishment. *sarcastically* ‘Aww thanks for giving six quid everybody, here’s an eleven hour lecture on biscuits.’
08:15 Sherlock: They asked the question.
08:16 John: Right, ok. So, uh, he was eating a lot of custard creams the other day. Um, for those of you who aren’t British, uh, a custard cream is, uh, a sort of sandwich structured biscuit, wouldn’t’cha say?
08:26 Sherlock: Correct. Yes. A sandwich in structure. Two light shortbread pieces acting as the bread. Often stamped with a Victorian inspired Baroque design. And the filling was once a buttercream, but now is a custard flavored cream based on vanilla custard. Not egg custard.
08:43 John: Right, yeah. It’s, it’s that. Um, they’re nice. They are nice. Very moreish. Um, Ellionk, or Ellie, I think, when they’re not ‘Onk’ified, want’s to know ‘Favorite Supermarket: Tesco or Sainsbury’s?’ Um, well, both have gone downhill in recent years, I have to say. So, I’m going to go for neither and say co-op. Yeah, cause every now and again you find a really really good one. But if I’m in fantasy land, it’s M&S Foods or Waitrose. *clicks tongue* Yeah. Uh, there’s a chemistry question here from Ranger Pip which I don’t even begin to understand, so I’m going to move on. Sorry, Ranger Pip.
09:18 John (cont.): Right, last one! ‘Question for possibly John or Sherlock, not sure, lol. What is the story behind the theme tune. Just have to say whoever composed it, the musicians need an award and a shoutout on the podcast.’ Uh, yeah, well it’s a great theme tune, isn’t it? It really is. It’s called ‘Mad Prodigy’. *clears his throat pointedly*
09:39 Sherlock: Why are you making that noise?
09:41 John: Ah well, just saying mate.
09:43 Sherlock: I’m not mad. Or a prodigy.
09:46 John: Hey, uh, I-I’m not saying anything. Um, yeah, it’s it’s by a guy called Jody Jenkins. Uhhh, the reason why I don’t release it like some people asked me to is because it’s owned by a royalty free site. Um, *clicks tongue* the reason why Jody Jenkins doesn’t release it, is the same reason. I-it’s owned by a royalty free site. Uh, that’s generally how they work. I-I pay a fee. Well. Goalhanger pay a fee, use the track, and it belongs too…yeah. Audio Network. Um, I think he’s fab, yeah. But as far as crediting him out loud on the podcast, um, some artists don’t want royalty free work assigned to them. Um, they just do it for a paycheck. Some do. I don’t know him obviously and of course, I-I could piss off the company that actually owns the audio if I just mention him and uh, not-
10:34: *phone vibrates*
10:36 John: Message from Mariana. ‘You’re waffling. These people are paying us their hard earned money.’ Right! Soundproofing in these old houses aren’t what they used to be, are they? Um, *clicks tongue* yeah that’s the reason songwise. Nothing for or against Jody Jenkins. I’m just playing it safe cause these things s-scare me. *chuckles* Corporations and blech, yeah. Uh, horrible stuff.
10:54: *phone vibrates*
10:55 John: Um, message from Mariana. Right, yeah, I’m gonna wrap this up. Uh, thanks for your questions my lovely friends, we’ll be back soon. And, now to play us out, the one and only, Sherlock Holmes.
11:08 Sherlock: What?
11:08 John: Play! Play a song!
11:10 Sherlock *pleased*: Oh. Excellent! Uh, okay. Here we go!
11:14: *violin playing starts up*
11:17 John: Bye bye guys!
11:32: *sherlock’s violin playing cuts into Mad Prodigy
11:32-12:02 *Mad Prodigy carries us out to the end*
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muddyorbsblr · 4 months
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slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]
View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!
Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.
Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]
Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties
Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"
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It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.
You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.
Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.
The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"
"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"
"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"
"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"
"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"
You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"
Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."
"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"
She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."
"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."
When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"
"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."
"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"
"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."
"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"
"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."
She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"
"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."
She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"
You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.
Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.
"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"
You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"
You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."
"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"
You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."
"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."
You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."
"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"
"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."
"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.
You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.
"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."
Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"
"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"
"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."
"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.
"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."
He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."
"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."
The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours.  You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.
"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.
"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"
"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."
A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.
The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.
"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."
You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.
He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.
"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.
"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.
"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"
"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."
He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.
"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."
"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.
Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.
He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.
You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.
He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.
"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.
Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.
Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.
All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"
"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.
Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.
Damn Asgardian endurance.
"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"
"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.
"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."
Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"
"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."
"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to  your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."
His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."
You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"
"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"
"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"
"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."
"Wait she what?!"
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A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖
The request from @acidcasualties:
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secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman
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reidsgfbf · 6 months
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I Want Your Love
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spencer reid x gn! reader
in which spencer surprises the rest of the team with his music taste, which may or may not have been influenced by his partner he hasn't had the decency to tell them about yet
inspired by the fact i had I Want Your Love by Transvision Vamp in my head recently
warnings : no use of y/n, a few swear words here and there, characters may be a lil ooc, reader is only mentioned, they/them pronouns for reader
word count : 541 words, proofread
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Of course, Spencer ended up drawing the short straw when the rest of the team was deciding who would drive them to the local police station. He'd only gone to the toilet, albeit reluctantly, for a few minutes, and when he'd gotten back, Morgan had tossed him the keys to one of the SUVs and told him he was driving.
Spencer agreed, only on the condition that he got to play music on the drive. The rest of the team reluctantly agreed, thinking they'd only be treated to classical music as they all bundled into the SUV.
Spencer slipped into the driver's seat, took his phone out of his pocket, which you'd bought him and taught him how to use, plugged the aux cord into it, and brought up the playlist you and he had made together.
He made sure everyone had their seatbelts on- because did you know that there's a mortality rate of approximately 50% of people who don't wear seatbelts in moving vehicles?- and then started playing his music.
The opening guitar riff of I Want Your Love by Transvision Vamp sounded out in the vehicle and nearly everyone did a double take as Spencer pulled out of the parking space and hummed along to the music. This is not what they were expecting at all.
"When the hell did you start listening to this stuff, pretty boy?" Morgan asked, narrowly dodging Emily's wayward arms as she and JJ danced to the music.
"My partner introduced it to me," Spencer replied simply and everyone paused, including Emily and JJ. The car was silent, apart from the music playing, as everyone, sans Spencer, digested this information.
"Your... partner?" Emily asked slowly, making sure she heard that right.
"Yep." Spencer responded, popping the 'p'.
"Since when have you had a partner?" JJ asked. Spencer thought for a second.
"Since about five months, two weeks, fifty-seven days and sixteen hours ago," Spencer responded precisely. "But it feels like longer."
His little lovestruck grin made Morgan snicker, which was quickly cut off when Emily jabbed her elbow into his ribs.
"Where did you meet this elusive partner of yours?" Rossi asked.
"At a museum. They were arguing with security about an incorrect factoid about Christopher Columbus actually." Spencer chuckled. "Because he wasn't actually the first European to set foot in America. In fact, he never set foot in America at all. He set foot in the Bahamas instead. The first European to ever set foot in America was actually the Viking Leif Erikson, son of Erik the Red, who discovered Greenland. Leif then discovered what is now Newfoundland and Labrador."
Emily snorted. "Trust you to meet the love of your life at a museum where they argued with the security."
Spencer laughed. "I stepped in and helped them argue with the security, but it ended up with us both getting kicked out, so we went to have some ice cream together instead, and we got to know each other."
By now I Want Your Love had finished, and now the playlist turned onto Lovecats by the Cure. Emily laughed.
"I definitely want to meet the person who has such a cool music taste now." She grinned.
"Maybe at some point," Spencer replied.
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tourneys-by-me · 4 months
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Round Three - Cryomancy (ice) 3/4
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Propaganda under the cut (beware of potential spoilers!!)
Zane:
OK SO BUCKLE UP Zane is so blorbo babygirl malewife. He wears a pink apron and cooks for his friends. He constantly wears outfits that show off his tits but when it’s time to wear swimwear he’s in a full body wetsuit. He’s committed at least 14 war crimes (that I’ve counted so far) but it’s ok because it wasn’t his fault Anyway about the ice part- He’s what’s known as the Elemental Master of Ice, or just Master of Ice for short. While most elemental masters receive their element from their parent (they’re hereditary), Zane was gifted his from a guy he met one (1) time who just got good vibes from him (and maybe also his seer powers told him to? Because oh, yeah, the element of ice comes with seer powers for some reason). We see him create a dragon out of ice (classic elemental master ability), control existing ice, create new ice, freeze water, and in my personal headcanon, well- He’s an android. (Or nindroid, as they say in the show). The processing ability/intelligence of any given computer is directly correlated to how hot it is- in the negative sense. Meaning that the cooler you can get the CPU, the smarter it’ll be. Zane, with ice powers, can literally cool himself off and make himself smarter on demand. He has not done this in canon but he deserves to, **** it.
Leif:
No propaganda :(
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everydaym0nstrosity · 2 months
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Devil Times Five AKA Peopletoys, The Horrible House On The Hill, & Tantrums (1974), Dir. Sean MacGregor & David Sheldon.
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unhingen · 7 months
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I am overrun with midnight burger brain rot so like here are some random headcannons I have about the diner:
In classic American 50's fashion, the floor is checkerboard
The main colors are teal blue and yellow orange, with red orange as an accent
Ava's booth is one of those GIANT ass corner booths that basically makes a circle
She uses the top of the booth as a bookshelf for her note books
There are uniforms for the wait staff, a button up and slacks for men and a collared dress for women
Gloria wore the dress until Casper's disappearance when she decides to wear slacks but she still likes the collar on her old uniforms so she cut the skirt off
Casper kept the coat he wore for his western gentleman persona and wears it over his uniform
As the cook, Leif never had a uniform and still doesn't even though he and Gloria switched positions.
Zeb and Effie's radio is sitting on one of those metal utility carts that diners use to pick up lots of plates.
They have counter seatting
Some of the leather is cracking
Bathroom is gender neutral
Some of the lights are broken in the bathroom and for some reason it's always in a green hue.
There are some scratched-on graffiti on the mirrors of the bathroom
There is a giant sign on the deep freeze door saying "THIS IS NOT THE BATHROOM// EMPLOYEES ONLY"
There are two doors to the employee section of the diner and Ava's booth is closest to the one that opens to the office that Casper sleeps in
The ice cream machine is not broken, it's just stubborn and needs convincing
Casper tried attaching a bell to the Parmesan. It did not work
And that's it. Yeah bye.
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youtube
Jón Leifs (1899-1968) : Sögusinfónía (Saga Symphony) for orchestra Op. 26 (1941-42)
I. Skarphédinn (from Njáls Saga) 00:00-16:35 II. Gudrún Ósvifrsdóttir (from Laxdaela Saga) 16:35-27:55 III. Björn ad baki Kára (Scherzo) (from Njáls Saga) 27:55-33:20 IV. Glámr og Grettir (Intermezzo) (from Grettis Saga) 33:20-41:45 V. Tormódr Kolbrúnarskáld (from Fóstbraedra Saga and Heimskringla) 41:45-54:00
Performed by the Iceland Symphony Orchestra conducted by Osmo Vänskä.
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