#and those qualities need to be shown | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hotjaneaustenmenpoll · 2 months

Text

Semi-Final Two

Propaganda...

Mr Knightley (2009):

Johnny Lee Miller as Knightley is JUST SO. I mean the way he says "if I loved you less I might be able to talk about it more" IS JUUUST. The dance scene. The tentative shy smiles. The fact you can see in his eyes the entire time " I am completely in love with this woman. She'll never love me back BUT I DO NOT CARE I'LL LOVE HER FROM A DISTANCE ANYWAY" IS JUUUUUUST

We need to appreciate Mr Knightley more for both his snark and for those soft eyes just so full of love for Emma

GIF by dearemma

I was just going to send in the actual dance but the little panic he has when Emma says she knows his secret is just soo charming. There was some thread on twitter a few years ago about how a romcom man's most important quality is knowing how to look at a woman and JLM is just the master of it in this Emma

youtube

I really feel like the pictures say it all. He stands there, head tilted to one side. He is listening to you. His posture is relaxed. His gaze open, frank, candid. He's not trying at all. He just is.And that's why he is Knightley.

GIF by night-unfurls-its-splendour

Some propaganda, not just for Jonny Lee Miller, but the general interpretation of 09 Knightley. I have some excerpts here from my review of the 09 adaptation:

What I really think is great about the 2009 interpretation of Mr. Knightley is what an easy and comforting presence he is, without being apologetic when he scolds Emma. I think this is communicated especially well by how often we are actually shown Mr. Knightley taking his almost-daily walks to Hartfield, how smoothly he comes and goes, and how happy Emma is every time she sees him coming up the path (usually, just at the perfect moment when she needs something to put her back to rights.)

Here is Emma, feeling lonely after Miss Taylor's wedding. And in the background, walking up to Hartfield--there's Knightley. He's always been there for her, and he always will be.

And also this Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight this outfit and why I love it: This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding of her home.

Additionally, Jonny Lee Miller captures Knightley’s playful qualities, and his exasperation is so endearing

GIF by christophernolan

GIF by sashajames

GIF by christophernolan

I can’t be the only one tickled by this Knightley’s frustration with Emma! JLM FTW!

Jonny Lee Miller is mesmerizing in any role he inhabits. It’s 2009 Knightly all the way.

no but can you actually go vote for mr knightley he was FOUNDATIONAL for 16 year old me my favourite portrayal of my favourite austen man cannot fall at this hurdle!!!

He is my ultimate Austen Dream Man, I'm with him until the end. Honestly this adaptation is my very favorite of them all (P&P 1995 is a VERY close second) because it made me fall in love with Emma as a story? Honestly no other adaptation or indeed even my reading of the book made me love it quite as much. My crush on JLM goes back to 1995 and I do think he is one of the better actors of his generation - his range alone is just impeccable. The fact that he can go from Sick Boy to Mr. Knightley to Sherlock to Jordan Chase is really something. Of all the actors I know, his range is the most impressive. But i love how bright and sunny this adaptation is. The colors, it is as vibrant as Emma should be! The Kate Beckinsale Emma is dark and terrifying to me, not at all suitable an adaptation. I like the Paltrow Emma a lot, but it's got the same issue the 2005 P&P has for me -- it's just too short. This is tonally just right, and the casting is lovely, and JLM is just at his dashing best. His face is so expressive, he is so capable of communicating so much without saying a word. His open jealousy of Frank Churchill is delightful to watch. His face when Emma tells him his secret is out at the ball! JLM is maybe the most underrated actor of his generation and I LOVE that he has been multiple Austen heroes. I maintain that in a future adaptation of Pride & Prejudice, an older JLM would make an EXCELLENT Mr. Bennet. He would convey the right amount of grumpy but fond beautifully.

Look. Do people realize JLM hates wearing period clothing AND hates dancing? And yet in Emma he's sashaying around in pink jackets looking amazing and is THAT convincing? That's called BRILLIANT ACTING!!

youtube

A tiny bit of Mr Knightley 2009 propaganda but I love that they put in that bit from the book where he looks like he's going to kiss Emma's hand when he's saying goodbye but then he hesitates and doesn't and I just...it's such a tiny detail but conveys so much!

GIF by myforeverworldofmovie

It’s the only Emma adaptation that really hits the romance notes well. Knightley’s crowning moment of awesome really feels like it (when he rescues Harriet from humiliation) and his subsequent dancing with Emma does make you feel a shift in their relations. Love this adaptation. - This Knightley and Emma in particular are equals. They quarrel, not because he’s telling her off, but because they can have an argument because they know each other, trust each other and care about each others opinions, and there is never a sense of domination of one over the other. This adds so much fire to the romance, and it’s so unusual for a romance of that era (or even one written today!!). - Emma is rich, clever and beautiful and as powerful as a woman of her age and situation could be at the time and she married Knightley for no other reason but because he’s her best friend and his company for the rest of her life will enrich her. - He even leaves his house to move in with her!

Captain Wentworth (1995):

Ciaran Hinds has that perfect ruggedness yet friendliness to his face that makes him the perfect charming Wentworth. And all of the longing that he manages to convey in his eyes is so hot.

Wentworth may be angry/resentful with Anne but in general he is charming and the best friend you could ever have. Ciaran gets the pleasant parts of his character and brings them out, while keeping a guarded coolness (protective camouflage) with Anne.

GIF by molinaesque

I dunno if this counts as propaganda or not, but Ciaran Hinds has a face that looks like it was jackhammered out of a shale cliff.

If a line like 'I am half agony...half hope' comes out of a face like that you know that man has a soul for poetry.

I can listen no longer in silence. I must speak to you by such means as are within my reach. You pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me not that I am too late, that such precious feelings are gone for ever. I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight years and a half ago. Dare not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death. I have loved none but you. Unjust I may have been, weak and resentful I have been, but never inconstant. You alone have brought me to Bath. For you alone, I think and plan. Have you not seen this? Can you fail to have understood my wishes? I had not waited even these ten days, could I have read your feelings, as I think you must have penetrated mine. I can hardly write. I am every instant hearing something which overpowers me. You sink your voice, but I can distinguish the tones of that voice when they would be lost on others. Too good, too excellent creature! You do us justice, indeed. You do believe that there is true attachment and constancy among men. Believe it to be most fervent, most undeviating, in

F. W.

I must go, uncertain of my fate; but I shall return hither, or follow your party, as soon as possible. A word, a look, will be enough to decide whether I enter your father's house this evening or never.

This is propaganda for the next round because I need my boy to be a finalist! But this letter is all the persuasion I need to know that he is a winner

youtube

Ciarán Hinds in this is a whole other level of "a good man" He makes Anne's decision at the end so much more perfect.

#hotjaneaustenmenpoll #semi finals #mr knightley #captain wentworth #emma 2009 #persuasion 1995 #Emma #persuasion #jane austen #ciaran hinds #jonny lee miller

594 notes · View notes

mysterycitrus · 5 months

Note

PLEASE go off about Bruce

the popular modern character beat for bruce where he’s this truly unhinged machiavellian mega genius actively plotting his own downfall is so far divorced from his neo-noir detective roots it makes me want to tear my hair out

it really goes without saying that bruce is singularly driven by restorative justice, more than literally anyone else aside from maybe cass cain. his decision not to kill under any circumstances is not a selfish one, it’s a selfless one, because bruce understands that no one person should have the right to take a life. if killing is a legitimate action to take against a threat then anyone, whether it be an individual or an institution, can be incentivised to kill as a first resort. bruce understands the complicated nature of crime and why it occurs. he understands community and the importance of social support, and how human connection will save lives. he never wants anyone to feel the pain he felt in that alley ever again.

he’s a detective who mistrusts the police and actively works against them. combat and physical violence aren’t what drive him, it’s an unfortunate consequence of opposing corruption. if he can save a child instead of throwing a punch, he’ll do it. if he can talk someone off a ledge, he’ll make the time. he can’t unknot his own heart, but he still tries. it hurts, but he tries.

bruce’s purposeful disconnection from others out of fear of losing them is driven by selfish desire, because he is (deep down and hidden away) a profoundly loving person who believes everyone deserves a chance. this is shown in how he raised his kids — he’ll smother them to protect them while forcing himself to hold them at arms distance. when they reflect his worst habits back at him, he’s horrified. he’s objectively a bad parent. no one else should let him adopt more children. he saved dick grayson and jason todd and cass cain and tim drake. many things can be true at once.

the interpretation of him as either a brooding, violent asshole with no redeeming qualities OR a somewhat pugnacious but ultimately emotionally mature father figure both miss the point of bruce wayne’s primary motivation, being that he is still in crime alley as an eight year old, kneeling in the ground amid the pearls, and he has not moved in thirty years. he can’t leave, because if he leaves then who will be there to guide the next dick grayson, the next cass, out from those shadows and into the light? he is anchored by his own weight. so much of what he does comes from a need for control, a hyper fixation on predicting the outcome, if preventing the worst case scenario before it happens. the rest of it is love in motion.

#this is an extremely sympathic view of bruce wayne because if i see one more pro fascist batman post im going to McLose it #bruce Wayne #batman #batfamily #dc comics #the ask and the answer #batfam

685 notes · View notes

heedeungism · 3 months

Text

synopsis: the duke loves you dearly, yes, but how could you possibly know that? includes: bridgerton au, suggestive, profanity , hoon is a rake

as duke and duchess of hastings, it was expected that you produce an heir within the year. being the notorious love match of the season, the diamond and the duke, the image of your family back in london was counting on your ability to ‘perform your duty’, as the ton loved to put it.

sunghoon, your husband, the duke, had been the one to propose the deal. you’d been told your whole life that your interests meant nothing if your husband did not share them, yet he had asked you what your favorite color was. you had been told that horse riding wasn’t ladylike, yet he had shown you his favorite mare and asked you if you’d ever ridden.

he was all the right things, you’d thought. though truthfully, he had one quality you couldn't look past. he was a rake. he frequented brothels, fucked whores, but called on you and gave you the most expensive flowers, and spoke the sweetest of nothings. it was almost enough to look past. you’d thought that you’d be able to get past it, that if he was in love with you enough to propose he’d be in love enough to stop visiting the brothels.

that hope was shattered the moment he’d proposed. it wasn’t romantic, nor was it anything you wanted.

“a deal?” you remember asking when he had looked at you with eyes you had never seen so unfeeling, “or a marriage?”

“you will be allowed the estate. every luxury you desire will be yours.” he had stated, “while i—“

“spend your nights at your beloved brothels?” his face when you had spoken those words had sent your heart into its own frozen hell. “you do not have to explain yourself, your grace.”

and so, the two of you married. you knew that despite the pieces he had left your heart in he would keep his word, and he did. you’d never worn such luxurious gowns nor felt fabric so soft and breathable as your nightdress.

your mama had told you little about what the night of your wedding entailed, only that if a certain event did not transpire the marriage would be null. that event was never described in full to you by your mother, only hinted at by jane austen, and yet it had been nearly a month since your nuptials and the duke had left the space between the two of you alarmingly obvious. the large bed that while you both slept on you did not share, the avoidance of eye contact, and the heat of his hand on yours only for him to pull away before you can let it pool.

on mornings that you allow yourself to sleep in, you are unsure if the ghostly touch along your cheekbone and the gentle tucking of your hair out of your face is your imagination or just the breeze coming from the open window. on nights that you are plagued by the feeling of being undesirable, you can feel his gaze on your back when he thinks you’re asleep.

on a night like this one, you find yourself reaching a point of exhaustion. “your grace.” you greet as you enter his study, the place he would keep to himself and even eat on most nights.

he barely glances up from his paperwork, “do you need something?”

shaking your head, you pull the shawl you have over your shoulders to cover the skin that your nightdress didn’t. the pink color of the fabric was what you had described as your favorite when the duke had asked. it’s the color of nearly every dress you have been provided with since moving into clyvedon. “no, i simply came to inform you that i am having the maids move my things into the duchess’s chambers.”

his interest is piqued, and he finally looks at you. “why ever would you have them do that?”

“is reason needed to move into my own chambers?”

your response garners a look from your husband, “separate rooms shall not be suffered.”

his words cause you to scoff, “yet a silent marriage will be?”

he is silent for a moment before he speaks, “jones.” the butler standing by the door straightens up, “inform the maids that they will under no circumstances move the duchess’ belongings from our chambers.”

“sir.” the man nods, exiting the room and leaving you with your husband.

“will you continue to go about your days acting as if i do not exist?” you question goes unanswered as sunghoon resumes his paperwork. “fine, i will move them myself.”

“you will do no such thing.”

“oh, i believe i will.” you retort and sunghoon stands, hands placed on the desk as his jaw shifts.

“i forbid you.”

the audacity baffles you, frustration turning into fury within the second, “you forbid me?”

sunghoon walks out from behind his desk, stopping beside it, “you are my wife. your hatred i can tolerate but i will not allow the agony of separate rooms.”

“am i your wife?” you ask, watching his hands twitch at his sides and his eyes darken, “we had a wedding, yes, but if we did not spend that night together are we truly married?”

“you speak nonsense.” he dismisses, eyes no longer on you as he turns away, “go to bed.”

“do not speak to me like i am a child—“

“i said-“ he starts, voice raising as he turns back toward you with a darkness in his gaze, “go. to. bed.”

his eyes pierce your own as his voice is low and nearly breathless, you lower your chin just the slightest as your heart aches, “i am not a child, nor am i a fool. i know you do not love me but i did not think you cruel enough for trickery.”

“trickery?” he asks, seemingly clueless as the what you mean.

you begin, “the day we met in that garden i thought you different, kind. you led me to believe such lies, you knew i could not say no to you, you trapped me in a loveless marriage that you knew i did not desire—“

“loveless? if that is what you believe this marriage to be, it is not i who is the cause,” he argues, and you narrow your eyes.

“am i to believe that you love me? have your actions up to this very moment warranted such beliefs?” your question causes your husband’s jaw to shift.

“go to bed.” he looks down at his desk again.

“do not tell me what to do.”

“what do you want from me?” he whips around to look at you. “i have given you riches, i have given you every gown you could possibly desire, i have had the finest soaps imported from india and yet you continue to oppose me. what. do. you. want?”

“i want a husband. not a stranger that i share a bed with, not a keeper.” you state, “i know you do not love me, but if I am to be duchess and produce an heir i deserve better than an absent duke.”

sunghoon remains silent for a moment before his hands clench into fists and his cold eyes meet your own. “call me a stranger, loathe my existence for the rest of your life but never think for even a moment that i do not love you.”

you are stunned into silence, and he continues, stepping closer and closer until your breaths mingle as he says, “i have spent the past fortnights in agony. suffering through the nights i cannot touch you. speaking to you is not enough, nor is being in your company. i have never in my life felt as though i cannot inhale what another does not exhale and yet i find myself suffocating with every moment i am not by your side.”

his fingers ghost over your cheekbone and you find your breath caught in your throat. “i have loved you ever since i saw you in that garden. do not dare question that.”

your lips part and his eyes follow them. your chest rises as you inhale sharply and deeply, attempting to process the words leaving his lips as well as their close proximity to your own. “you…love me.”

your tone is not one of question, and his pleasure in that fact is shown through both his actions and the three words you had yearned to leave his lips since he’d proposed. the same lips that capture yours in a hungry and insatiable kiss that has you in shambles.

your knees buckle, legs turning to jelly, and like he had expected it his arms wrap around you and pulls you closer. his tongue meets yours the moment your lips part and as he brings you to sit on his desk, the pressure of his body between your legs sends a jolt of pleasure you have never experienced before up your body, prompting a choked whimper to escape between the mess of lips and tongue.

“your grace.” you exhale against him, quickly silenced by his lips once again as he breathes you in like you’re the last atom of oxygen on earth.

“your grace.” he responds in kind, hand trailing up your thigh under your nightdress. then, there’s contact and a loud keen that like the rest of them, he swallows with ease.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

#enhypen #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x yn #bridgerton au #historical au #marriage of convenience #sunghoon smut #sunghoon enhypen #sunghoon drabble #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #enhypen x yn #sunghoon bridgerton au #suggestive #romance #bridgerton #hoonie 🩷

552 notes · View notes

theleotarot · 7 months

Text

The Relationship Between You And Your Future Spouse - Tarot Reading ❤️

Choose the image that you feel most drawn to... The piles are from pile 1, pile 2, and pile 3. (one tree hill edition)

-In addition to the tarot cards chosen, I also had some oracle cards and oracle love messages as clarifiers for those cards-

——————————————————————————

Pile 1

(Tarot cards: 5 of Wands, The Wheel, Justice, & Temperance)

Pile 1, both you and your future spouse mirror each other by feeling the same for one another. Both of you feel like you are each other’s lucky charms and good karma. It feels like the both of you were fated to be together, and maybe some of you have waited a long time to be together. In the past, one or both of you may have had negative experiences with past relationships, and when the both of you come together, you both bond with each other by being open and honest about those experiences. Not only do you and your future spouse get closer to each other by being openly communicative, but the both of you also have learned to let go and move on from the negativity of the past. The both of you also enjoy playfully teasing and making fun of each other. Sometimes, both of you may even playfully wrestle with one another. Maybe the masculine or the stronger one in your relationship loves to show how tough they are, and they do this by playfully picking a fight with you. You two may even do competitive activities together to see who is “better.” Maybe both of you verse each other at games or verse each other at sports for the fun of it. The both of you are also always on the go and enjoy traveling together everywhere. There is a lot of flying around the world. Maybe the both of you will go on hot air balloon or lantern festival dates, or wants to. Your future spouse is the person who you want to call when something good or bad happens, the person you go to when you need a laugh, and the person that you want by your side when you go on a quick trip to the grocery store. Both of you are each other’s favorite people. You or your future spouse may have a physically or mentally absentee father, and it’s had an immense impact on the mental health. Sometimes the troubles of struggling with family can transfer onto your relationship. For instance, if there are children that the two of you have, you or they may not feel good enough to take a role as a father or mother figure because you weren’t properly shown how to be one growing up. This is where conflict comes in and it may create arguments. Although there is conflict, not feeling good enough is a problem within the mind only, and both of you are able to to look past the situation and continue on with your relationship. Both of you do this by having lots of patience and compromising with each other. Patience plays a key role into the success of your relationship after arguments. Overall, your relationship feels like destiny, and the both of you reflect each other emotionally. There is so much trust and open communication between the two of you. The both of you are best friends and lovers in one. ♡

——————————————————————————

Pile 2

(Tarot cards: 8 of Pentacles, 7 of Swords, King of Pentacles, & The Emperor)

Pile 2, you and your future spouse are extremely committed to each other, and the both of you are financially stable as a couple. Your relationship is more on the traditional side where there is a masculine role and there is a feminine role. Maybe the masculine in the relationship is the provider, and the feminine is the caretaker of your children, pets, or your home. Both of you may also have qualities of being a parental figure to each other. If you’re a woman, you may be similar to a mother, and if you’re a man, you may be similar to a father in your relationship. There is a lot of flirting between the two of you. Maybe there is lots of physical touching and funny pick up lines that are shared together. You and your future spouse may be very gifted in skills or talents as well. For instance, on the days that are not busy, your future spouse may show you their new dance choreography, and you may show them the new song on the piano you learned. Your life with your future spouse is also structured. Maybe in the early morning, you both like to take a walk outside, eat breakfast, go to work, and then at night you both come home to each other. At the end of the night, both of you love to relax and cuddle on the couch to watch a show or movie with your pets or children. You and your future spouse are very hardworking individuals and dedicated to work. Since you both are very work driven and focused too much on your own lives sometimes, it may be difficult to have quality time together, and it may impact the relationship. One or both of you may be non-expressive of feelings, but this may be due to the fact that both of you are working hard to pay bills. Eventually this conflict from lack of quality time is overridden, and the both of you work extra hard together to make the relationship proceed smoothly. Sometimes the way that you and your future spouse get in your quality time is by disappearing from the world, like taking a getaway weekend trip to the lake or a cabin. You or your future spouse may also have struggled with being able to show your relationship in public (but I really feel like it’s mostly to family), but overtime both of you do not care about other people’s opinions and enjoy showing each other off. You both are not afraid of holding hands in public, sitting closely together, or any form of public display of affection. Pile 2, overall, you and your future spouse know how to maintain your relationship in love, intimacy, money, career, and family. Your relationship is built through commitment and dedication with one another. ♡

——————————————————————————

Pile 3

(Tarot cards: 7 of Pentacles, King of Cups, The Hermit, & 10 of Wands)

Pile 3, your relationship with your future spouse is built through mutual effort, time, and patience. Both of you are emotionally invested into each other and are very loving, caring, and understanding of one another. Every day, both of you learn something new about each other and fall deeply in love more and more. Your relationship has an aura of calmness. Maybe both of you enjoy doing meditation or yoga together and love the privacy that you share. Both of you may also try to stir away from drama and arguments to keep the peace between you. The two of you may do gardening or have a garden together. You might grow trees, plants, flowers, or fruits. Both of you love giving each other gifts like flowers, chocolate, jewelry, clothes, and luxury items. Maybe some days after work, you come home to a nice dinner with lit candles from your future spouse. You both also love to make each other’s bucket list dreams come true. For instance, if you have always wanted to go skydiving, your future spouse will move their way into taking you to do it so you can fulfill your dreams. You both may enjoy going to the beach together, swimming, or love sea animals, but mostly, the two of you enjoy being alone together in the comfort of your own home. Before meeting your future spouse though, you or your future spouse may have went through an extremely difficult period of time in life, and because of this past experience of difficulty, you or they may be in their heads a lot when life is tough. It is a traumatic response, and it is not done on purpose, but this may still cause conflict between the two of you. Through arguments, both of you always overcome the challenges and grow together through them. You and your future spouse are continuously learning to be more opened and receptive to one another, regardless of having fears from trauma. You or they have already reached rock bottom in life, and when you two are together, things can only improve. Both of you are each other’s stones, and with each other, you feel whole. Both of you are always looking for ways to improve the relationship by making it more enjoyable and exciting. There are also lots of planning for your future together and focusing on making each other happy. Pile 3, overall your relationship with your future spouse is built through romance, love, and patience. Even when things are difficult between the two of you, remember that you both love each other deeply, and you must be able to open up about how you feel to one another in order to grow. Only the greatest things are built with patience and perseverance. ♡

——————————————————————————

• I hope you all enjoyed this reading! Please let me know how you liked it… your feedback is very much appreciated. Take care! ❤️ •

——————————————————————————

#tarot reading #free tarot reading #tarot beginner #love reading #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #future spouse reading #one tree hill #pinterest pictures #daily tarot #fs reading <3 #pac <3

674 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 2 years

Text

Lost and Found - Eddie Munson x Reader (Part 2) | Part 1

WC: 7.0K / navi / preview / request

Summary: Eddie is happy to teach you everything he knows about DnD, he just wishes you weren't so goddamn distracting

Contents/Warnings: eddie n wayne, besties forever <3 very very fluffy lots of yearning and ridiculously cheesy moments, lovesick!eddie, reader wears a skirt and eddie's hellfire shirt from part 1, suggestive material, but still minor-friendly (part three will not be)

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

“Christ on a cracker, son,” Wayne swears, nearly pushed to the ground as Eddie slams the trailer door open, “Calm down.”

“Sorry Wayne!” Eddie barely takes a second to breathe before he flies through the space, feet pounding on the matted carpet of the trailer as he races to his bedroom.

“What’s the rush?” Wayne is well aware of his nephew’s recreational habits, as well as his business endeavors, and shudders to think that there might be some drug-crazed lunatic after the boy.

But Eddie pops his wide-eyed face out from his bedroom only seconds later, shirt and pants torn off to leave him in his boxers as he darts for the shower, “There’s a girl coming over.”

That’s a new one. Wayne has heard a few feminine voices outside the trailer before, when they’re out of stock and need replenishing, but Eddie never showers for them. He probably should, Wayne always tells the boy that if he stinks any worse he’ll have to move out, but he’s never shown an interest until now.

“And,” Wayne peers into the bathroom, seeing Eddie frantically combing out his hair, the plastic nearly snapping under the pressure he’s putting on it, “This is a special girl?”

“I- I don’t know,” Eddie huffs, his crazed panic still alive as he whirls around the bathroom for a clean towel, “Sort of. I don’t really know her yet.”

“Y’know ‘er enough to care.” Wayne prompts him, and Eddie deflates slightly. He’s looking in the mirror, trying to part his hair neatly so that he can wash it easier. He stops, his hands falling from his head to his sides as he stares hard at his reflection.

“I want to impress her.” Eddie admits, his usual self-assuredness now gone, “Or- impress isn’t right,” He puzzles for a moment, his eyes drifting over his features, “Just- I don’t want to scare her away.”

“Well I think it’s good you’re showering then,” Wayne lightens the mood, “‘Not sure she could handle your B.O.”

“Shut up,” Eddie takes the out, shoving at his uncle’s shoulder with no real force, “I’m gonna order pizza for us. She wants to learn how to play DnD.”

Wayne’s eyebrows skyrocket, “She wants to learn? Or have you kidnapped and brainwashed her like those basketball players tell me you do?”

“She’s under my control,” Eddie rasps, his voice thick in his throat.

Wayne snorts, standing up straight from where he’d been leaning against the doorframe, “Alright, boy. I’ll leave you to it, but if you need help getting ready for tonight, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Eddie breathes, flashing his signature grin at his uncle before he shuts the door.

Wayne watches the closed door with something light and airy filling his chest, maybe laughing gas at the way he chortles hearing Eddie drop the comb into the sink for the tenth time since he started. Then he turns, and the reality of their home hits him.

It’s messy.

Far too messy to accept company, which is why the pair hasn’t for years. Aside from Eddie’s trusted friends, all of whom are far too sloppy themselves to bat an eye at the general clutter around the trailer, no one has set foot in their space for five long years.

Now, he’s all for encouraging Eddie to be himself, that if someone doesn’t like who he is, then they’re not fit for a friend. But he’s sure that you’re far too important to Eddie for that test just yet, and he’s not sure he wants you to get to know his nephew as messy when there’s so many other qualities he possesses. That’s something you can discover later, when you’re hooked on his charm and wit and won’t mind stepping on a pair of boxers or two to get down the hallway. He gets to work clearing away mindless clutter, collecting shirts strewn over the furniture and paper plates tucked under the couch.

By the time Eddie finishes showering (and falling, twice), Wayne has the entire living room de-cluttered, although most of the loose papers and items have made their way onto the kitchen table instead of being put in their places. Eddie steps out of the bathroom, towel tucked around his waist and a hand in his curls, dragging his fingers through the wet tangles, and he stops dead in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Shit,” He breathes, watching his uncle crouch to tug an empty beer can out from behind the door and stuff it into the trash bag he’s got going, “Wayne, what are you doing?”

“Cleaning up,” Wayne states the obvious, raising an eyebrow unimpressed at his nephew’s cognitive skills, “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Are-” Eddie stops combing through his hair, standing limply in front of his uncle, “Are you doing this ‘cause Y/N’s coming over?”

“That’s her name?” Wayne smiles, “‘S a pretty one.”

“You are,” Eddie marvels, “Uh, thanks, Wayne.”

Wayne’s hands and knees burn against the scratchy carpet, the beer can in his hands sharp from being crushed. He stands, the worn fabric of his flannel falling limp against his distressed jeans. He stands there, tattered and messy, looking at the way Eddie’s cleaned himself up.

He’s wearing a tank top, a KISS shirt that he was gifted on his tenth birthday. It’s got tour dates on the back, one of which Wayne took Eddie to as a present. Apparently it didn’t look good enough as a t-shirt though, because the boy had taken scissors to it a few years back, carving out holes the size of craters that expose part of his side.

His hair is bundled up in a bun atop his head, scrunched up and crimping itself while it dries. He always tells Eddie not to do that, to leave it down so that each strand can dry individually, but Eddie hates the feeling of wet hair on his skin, so he pulls it up and leaves it sitting until he can blow-dry it.

The same ripped jeans he’d worn to school are back on his waist, belt cinched tight around him with his handcuffs pinned there. Wayne always tells him he’ll confuse someone, make them think he’s an undercover cop, but Eddie only laughs at him. There’s a chain hooked through his belt that rests on his hip, dipping close to his knee and gleaming in the artificial light above them.

There’s two necklaces bouncing against his chest as he walks over to help Wayne with the overflowing trash bag, his typical guitar pick and a dog tag he’d found in the street one day. It says Sprinkles on one side, but Eddie swears that it looks metal if he turns it the other way, the owner’s number stamped across it.

He has an earring in. Eddie almost never puts an earring in, because his at-home ear piercing hadn’t produced the most sanitary results. He says it burns when he wears earrings, but here he is, a heavy silver hoop through one ear and a black cuff pinched tight at the helix of the other.

Wayne looks at his nephew, his boy, and pride surges through his chest. Pride, a little bit of awe, and happiness. He cares. This is something Eddie really cares about, you are something Eddie really cares about, and it’s obvious by the things he’s done for you before you’ve even come over. Eddie has always cared, perhaps a bit too much, and it’s easy to tell when he does from the little things he pieces together to show it.

“You look good, boy.” Wayne breaks the careful silence the two had slipped into, watching Eddie tug the straps to the garbage bag. He reddens slightly, his cheeks flaring in color, something akin to the shade of the tomato soup he’d managed to botch for last thursday’s dinner. How the boy had undercooked a can of soup, he’d never know.

“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie mumbles, forearms flexing as he ties a knot into the strings of the garbage bag, “I’ll take this out.”

“We should start on your room,” Wayne points out as Eddie tries making his frantic exit, spooked by praise. Eddie nods once, and Wayne lets him escape to the dumpster to process the emotions he’s got swirling inside of him.

He knows the boy gets shy around praise, which is why he tries not to overwhelm him. But today is different, today is a bigger step than he’s seen Eddie take in a long time, and it’s hard not to burst with pride.

When Eddie comes back inside Wayne is already tiptoeing around his room, dodging suspicious socks and cassette tapes strewn about. Eddie gets to work stacking those, a comfortable silence falling over the pair as they set to work.

“Wayne?” Eddie’s voice is timid, meek.

“Yeah?” Wayne reaches under his bed, pulling out a magazine that he shouldn’t have and a sock, something Wayne doesn’t want to think about as a pair.

“Do you.. Do you really think I look nice?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth he’s stammering, shaking his head so that his bun wobbles dangerously, “I- I mean, like- not like nice, but do you… you think she’ll like it?”

“Son, if she asked you to teach her about your game, I’m sure she’s not scared of you.”

“But is that enough? Shouldn’t she,” Eddie abandons the cassettes in his hand, scratching bashfully at the back of his neck and combing through the stray hairs there, “I dunno, like me? Not just not hate me?”

“Well I’d give her some time if I were you,” Wayne chuckles, reminded of the restlessness of youth, “You’ve only known her a day.”

“Right.” Eddie nods frantically, eyes glued to the tapes he busies himself with again, “Yeah, I will.”

“Hey,” Wayne reaches out, bracing a hand on Eddie’s knee that’s bouncing frantically, “You’ve got this, boy. You can do this. She’ll love you.”

The word love has Eddie’s cheeks flaring the color of it, a deep red that Wayne sees most often on valentine’s day cards. He chuckles once more at his nephew’s crush, shaking his head and getting back to sorting through clutter.

By the time Eddie’s watch beeps, a tinny, mechanical sound that has him leaping onto his feet to rush for the door, they’ve gotten his room mostly under control. There’s a pile of dirty laundry stull bulging out of the closet, but that can’t be avoided, as the hamper is broken from a rather unfortunate sledding endeavor a few months back. You’ll just have to live with the sight of yesterday’s t-shirt in the corner, they decide.

“Okay, uh- thanks, Wayne.” Eddie brushes his hands on his pants, already sweaty from nerves, “I’m gonna go pick her up now.”

“Right,” Wayne stands, trash bag in hand with all of Eddie’s discarded food wrappers and beer cans, “Good luck, son.”

The term flares up Eddie’s blush again, but Wayne doesn’t comment on it, offering him a quick hug, a simple pat to the back. It’s all Eddie can handle right now, already a bundle of nerves that he doesn’t want spilling out.

“There’s a $10 on the fridge,” Wayne calls out after Eddie bounds down the steps of the trailer,tugging the rubber band out of his hair and letting it spill over his shoulders, “Use it for pizza!”

“No, no,” Eddie waves his uncle off, plunging his hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet, “I got it!”

“Eddie,” Wayne glares at the stubborn boy, “Use the money on the fridge.”

Eddie balks at the aggressively kind gesture, but a wry smile curves over his lips, “Whatever. I’ll just sneak cash into your jacket while you’re asleep.”

“You will not,” Wayne huffs, but Eddie’s already taken off for his van, slamming the door behind him with a hearty laugh at his uncle’s grouchiness.

When Eddie pulls up to your house, having checked the little slip of paper buried in his pocket, oh, around a thousand times, one of the upstairs lights is on. It’s the only one on, the rest of the windows pitch black, and Eddie worries that maybe something is wrong. Your house looks near abandoned, but at the rough chugchugchugging of his engine, a downstairs light flicks on. He catches your silhouette thumping down the stairs and sees the outline of a skirt over your hips. His stomach flips and he shuts off the van, hurrying out so that he can beat you to the door. It seems gentlemanly, something he’s never been too concerned about, but it feels right in the moment.

He’s inches from the door as you wrench it open, a fist raised to knock while you step out of it, not expecting him there on the other side. Your eyes widen but you can’t stop your momentum, stumbling clumsily into his chest despite your efforts to slow down.

“Oh!”

“Eddie!” You speak in unison, your voices mingling just as your limbs do. His arms wind around your waist, laying over his hellfire shirt that you’ve tucked into the waistband of your skirt. The material is soft under his touch, but not as soft as your face, which hits his shoulder in your scuffle. Eddie feels a burst of warmth flood through him at the skin-on-skin contact, and holds you steady as you right yourself against his chest. Your hands brace themselves frantically on his stomach, your chest heaving as you gape at him, “I’m so sorry! I- I wasn’t paying attention, I just heard you coming, and- and,”

“If you were that excited to see me,” Eddie doesn’t know how he’s being as suave as he is, because his heart is practically hammering through his ribcage to affix itself to you like a lovesick leech, “You could have asked me to come earlier.”

You feel your cheeks flare with heat as you slump forwards, the crown of your head hitting Eddie’s clothed chest, “Stoooop.”

Eddie chuckles, adjusting the pitch of his voice to your own, “Stoooop.”

“You’re mocking me!” You shove at him lightly, making him stumble a step backwards, “You’re the worst.”

“Hey,” Eddie finally lets you go, his skin instantly cold where it had once touched yours, “You gotta be nice to me. I’m teaching you DnD, remember?”

“Fine,” You huff dramatically, “You get a pass, but only for tonight!”

“Deal.” Eddie’s eyes gleam with mischief, “Ready?”

“Ready.” You confirm, bouncing excitedly on the balls of your feet.

“Van’s there,” Eddie gestures to his van, nearly tripping over his own feet when you grab his hand, eagerly tugging him along, “Woah!”

“I told you I was ready.” You gush, the words coming out in a soft giggle that makes his heart burst.

You look out of place in his van, too heavenly to be wriggling comfortably into his worn seats. There’s a half-drunk water bottle by your feet that crunches beneath your shoe, and you apologize hurriedly for crushing it.

“‘S okay sweetheart,” Eddie snickers, reaching down to pluck it out from under your feet, “It’s, like, months old.”

“Eddie,” You chide, “It’s probably growing something!”

“It’s fine,” He urges, snickering at your horror, “It’ll put some hair on your chest.”

He leaves you with that, shutting the door to your side of the car and jogging around to the driver’s side door. He wrenches it open, his hair bouncing against his chest as he sits down with a flounce. The radio that he has is already preloaded with the cassette tape he uses whenever he drives Wayne anywhere, his favorite metal artists and their less-overwhelming songs. Wayne always says heavy metal ‘makes his ears bleed’, he’s more into classic rock, but Eddie will be damned if he isn't listening to Mötley Crüe on any drive longer than two minutes. He figures that he’ll be courteous to you at first, just in case metal isn’t your thing either.

To his surprise, a minute into Merry Go Round, your brow dips in concentration.

“Mötley Crüe, right?”

Eddie swears he nearly passes out. His usual response to surprising information, a dramatic flailing of his limbs, doesn’t seem very safe just now, and you’re lucky he doesn’t jerk the wheel to the side.

“Yeah,” He grins dazedly, “You listen?”

“Sometimes!” You pick at a loose thread on your skirt, “I’m into a bit of everything. Really jus’ whatever comes on the radio.”

Eddie suddenly likes you more, if possible. Everything new that he learns about you only adds to the little list of Reasons he Cares, the first and most important being that you’re kind to him. He would never admit it, but he’s like a little lost puppy, trailing after the first person to scratch behind his ears.

“I like your van.” You muse, and it’s so genuinely sweet it nearly makes Eddie scream. You brush your fingers over a Black Sabbath sticker that’s peeling off of the dash, reaffixing the dusty backing to the smooth plastic. It doesn’t stay, it pops right back up again, but you’re onto the next detail now, a pair of old sneakers in the door, autographed by the patrons that watch him perform with his band.

“These are cool,” You marvel at the sloppy, mostly-drunken signatures scrawled over the canvas, “Who are they?”

“Our fans,” Eddie boasts proudly, even though he’s sure seven hammered 40 year olds aren’t the most impressive thing in the world when it comes to an audience, “They watch us perform, remember my band I told you about?”

Eddie watches your eyes light up from the rear-view mirror, but you’re lucky he doesn’t take his eyes off the road completely to see them unfiltered.

“That’s right!” You remember your earlier conversation, “That’s so cool, Eddie, you’ve got fans!”

“We do,” He chuckles, fingers sweating against the steering wheel as you near his trailer, “You should come to one of our shows sometime.”

“If I do, do I get to sign the sneakers?” You’re far too excited to put your name on a pair of ratty old shoes, repurposed as a trophy, but Eddie would be willing to buy a new pair just so that your name can be the only one on the fabric. He thinks about that, about having your name displayed over him, and blushes. He hopes you don’t catch it.

“Of course you can,” Eddie promises, turning much more carefully than he normally does into his typical parking spot, the van sputtering to a stop when he removes the key. He turns to you before you open the door, “How about this saturday?”

“Next,” You compromise, “My parents get back Saturday night and I can’t be out without them knowing.”

“Your parents are gone?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, crimped hair bouncing as he does.

“They’re getting the last of our stuff from our old house,” You nod solemnly, “We don’t even have mattresses here yet.”

“No shit? What have you been sleeping on?”

“The couch,” You recount sadly, “It’s not very comfortable, but it’s better than the floor.”

“Damn,” Eddie sympathizes, yanking on the latch of his door and hopping down, “Well, babe, I’ve got a mattress inside, if you’re interested in staying the night.”

It’s bold, brazen, uncouth, but he tops it off with a teasing grin, so it’s okay. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, happy that it mostly filled the empty van as he slams his door, rounding the front to open your own for you.

“Very gentlemanly,” You praise him, slipping your hand into his to step down from the lifted van, “I’m impressed.”

“Well don’t get used to it,” He teases, squeezing you against his side with a hand that drifts suspiciously low, “I’m not usually this nice.”

“I must be special.” You concur, giddiness in your grin that sends Eddie’s stomach into a cartwheel.

You are, Eddie nods once at you, afraid to voice his thoughts in case they somehow ruin the unspoken adoration between you, More than you know.

Eddie’s pleased to find nothing but a slight oil stain in Wayne’s usual parking spot, his uncle having predicted that Eddie would want alone time with you. He’s half expecting to find a box of condoms on the kitchen counter when he walks in with you, but flicking on the light of the trailer reveals only a spotless living space, junk shoved in drawers to be dealt with later.

“I like it.” You decide with a curt nod, eyes landing on the array of DnD paraphernalia stacked on the couch, “Oh, I almost forgot! I brought you this.”

You reach into the waistband of your skirt, the slim paperback book you were reading earlier neatly molded to your side. It doesn’t retain the curve of your side, flattening back out into its shape as you hold it out to Eddie.

You swear you catch his eyes wandering towards the spot that you’d just pulled the book from, but they snap up to meet your own before you can verify it. He takes the book from you with an eager grin, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

“Y’wanna swap?” You stride over to the couch, plucking a book titled Players Handbook: Compiled Information for Players and Dungeon Masters out of the pile.

Eddie falters slightly, surprised that you’re so eager to get into what might be the least exciting part of learning DnD: the rules.

“Sure,” He nods carefully, taken aback, “Lemme just clear the couch.”

He bends over to do so, and you can’t help that your eyes trace the newly-exposed skin of his chest. The shirt he’s wearing already reveals his side, but as his arms stretch to grab boxes and papers off of the cushions in front of you, it shifts to show his stomach.

You don’t realize you’re staring until he stops in front of you, an eyebrow raised that you don’t catch because you’re ogling him.

“Everything okay?” To your horror, there’s a twinge of amusement in his voice, and you’re certain he’s caught you.

“Yes!” You scramble to act casual, thumbing past the cover of the book to appear busy, “Yes, let’s get started.”

Eddie sits before you do, surveying you with that same cocky gaze. It makes you nervous, your stomach churning slightly, and you perch on the end of the couch that he’s not spread out over.

He lets out a scoff, reaching out, “You can get comfortable, Y/N, I don’t bite.”

He does, however, grab, which you find out when he yanks your legs out from under you, tugging them outwards so that they rest over his lap. He’s reclined against both the arm of the couch and the back cushion of it, looking far too composed for the rampage of butterflies against his stomach.

You melt into your new position so naturally that it scares you. It feels right, cracking the spine of the handbook while your legs are draped casually over Eddie’s lap. Stretching out and getting comfortable on Eddie’s couch seems just as casual as it does on your couch, and you can’t help the dizzy grin that spreads over your face as you realize this.

“Somethin’ funny?” Eddie’s brow quirks at your expression, and you bury it behind the book, shaking your head.

“Right,” He sets a hand over your ankles, locking your legs into their position on his lap, “Lemme know if you’re confused, babe, I’m here to help.”

Though the DnD handbook is informative, and slightly exhilarating to peruse, you hope that the actual gameplay is less complicated than it sounds. You’re barely twenty pages in, a good 40 minutes gone by, and you’re not sure you can keep all of the information straight in your head. Hopefully Eddie cuts you some slack, or else you might seriously slow down their game.

"Page?" Eddie glances up from the pages of your novel, peering over at the handbook in your grip.

You look to the corner of the page from where you'd been reading up on character classes, "23."

"The Fighter." He speaks in a low voice, raspy and dramatic. You giggle, half amused by his theatrics and half impressed that he's managed to memorize the 130-page handbook in front of you.

"What about you?" You glance pointedly at the book in his hands, shifting your feet in his lap slightly. You don't realize it, but they press against a rather sensitive spot, and Eddie hunches slightly, his stomach caving in as he tries remaining composed.

"Uh," His eyes frantically skim the page, wide and panicked until they lock on a familiar name, "Weylin- Weylin is just, uh, crossing over the Bridge of Lost Souls."

"Ooh," You wriggle slightly in your place on the couch, consequently burrowing your feet further into Eddie's lap, "I love that part! You meet Ionia soon, you'll love her!"

He can’t take it anymore.

“Uh,” He shoots off of the couch, lowering your feet carefully back down to the cushions where he was sitting, “I’m getting kinda hungry. Pizza time?”

“Pizza time.” You nod jovially, flipping a page in the handbook, seemingly unconscious of Eddie’s predicament, “Pepperoni?”

“And sausage.” Eddie nods, “Be right back.”

When he comes back, tugging a crumpled bill out of his pocket to use for the food and pointedly avoiding his uncle’s money, you tuck your legs up under you to set him sit down. He peers over the top of the handbook, eyes drifting to the words appearing upside-down in front of his face.

His nose hooks over the tops of the pages, and you can’t help it: you giggle. He glances up amusedly at you, his own sweet laugh filling the air as he crumples into your lap. You raise the book over your head so that he doesn’t have to slip under it, and his eyes meet yours from where he lays on your legs.

You stare down at him, entranced by his features. His soft cheeks, his sloped nose, the tinge of red that spreads over his skin. His eyes, shiny and smooth, like melted chocolate that you can taste on your tongue. You brush a hand over his forehead, gathering up loose flyaway hairs that have gathered there. They’re malleable and wiry in your grip, and you twirl them around your finger once, twice, thrice, until they form a spiraled curl.

His eyes follow your finger, doe-like as they cross to track your movement. When you let the hair go it springs off of your finger, bouncing down to rest over his nose, and his eyes dart inwards to follow it.

Apparently it tickles his nose, because he scrunches it up, miniscule wrinkles etched like waterways on a map into his skin. You smooth the terrain, running the soft pad of your finger down the bridge of his nose and marveling how his face relaxes as your touch waves over it.

He shivers slightly under your finger, and you notice a bridge of freckles, the lightest you’ve ever seen, dotting his nose. They stand strong over all of the rivers you have yet to flatten, stretching down towards his mouth in beautiful smile lines.

“You’re pretty.” You muse, your voice barely more than a whisper as you trace his features. He lets his eyes flutter shut when your fingers brush under them, his lashes tickling your skin.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He coos, the softness of his voice gaping that growing sinkhole of adoration that’s been tugging at your chest ever since you met him. His pretty face, his sweet words, his kind actions, all of them mark him as safe, as good, as loveable.

With his eyes closed, you’re allowed to be as obvious as you want when ogling him, not that you were very subtle before. Your eyes latch onto his lips in a similar fashion as you want your own to do, roving over every crease, mark, and indent in the soft, pillowy muscles.

Before you can think about it, you touch them. Your fingers, their pads soft and hesitant, prod gently at his lips. That has his eyes shooting open, carmeled brown irises meeting yours in shock.

Though you feel his gaze on you, you don’t stop. You let your hands linger on his face, soaking up every second of dazzlingly intimate contact you can get with the man. He studies your face while you study his, the both of you barely breathing while watching the other sit pretty. You swear you feel Eddie’s lips shift under your fingers, puckering ever-so-slightly to kiss the tips of your fingers, but then-

The hollow, sharp knock on the door of Eddie’s trailer shatters the intimacy of the moment, plunging you back into reality from the serene haze you’d been trapped in. You both fall from the clouds you’d lounged atop, plummeting back to earth with the thump of your hearts in your chests.

“I’ll get it,” Eddie scrambles up from where he’s draped over your lap, rushing to the door and snatching the cash off of the counter. You straighten yourself out while he grabs the pizza, cheeks aflame as you look around the room to avoid looking at him. You see a stack of vhs movies in the corner by the television set, and your eyes catch a familiar title.

Labyrinth.

“Okay,” Eddie sets the pizza on the counter, grateful for the paper plates the place provided you, “One slice or two?”

“Two,” You grin eagerly, reaching for the tape, “Are you the reason this was missing from the video store yesterday?”

He laughs at the sight of the VHS in your hands, “Yep, ‘had it since it came out.”

“Rude,” You scoff, “I wanted to watch it last night!”

“Bummer,” Eddie scrunches his brows, faux-sympathy written on his face, “‘Guess you’ll just have to come over whenever you wanna watch it.”

“Well I’m here now…” You push, clutching the case hopefully.

“Pop it in,” Eddie laughs, gesturing towards the machine, “‘Should be rewound already.”

You kneel by the VHS player while Eddie brings your plates over, and your back faces him. It gives him the perfect opportunity to ogle you, only feeling slightly guilty when his eyes trace the curve of your ass.

You turn before he can admire how the Hellfire shirt exposes the angles of your shoulders, abandoning its post and leaving your neck bare. He watches the skin there shift, muscles beneath the surface tensing as you crane it downwards to slide the tape into the receiver.

“We’ll work more on DnD later,” Eddie promises as the main titles roll, music filling the otherwise silent trailer, “We’ve still gotta get a character figured out for you.”

“‘M excited,” You speak through a mouthful of greasy pizza, pepperoni sticking to your lip, “Thanks for the pizza, Eddie.”

“‘Course sweetheart,” He grins at you, then hides his blush in the red tomato sauce on his bread.

Eddie truly believes that you’ll go over more later for the game. But when you finish both slices of your pizza, hands covering your stomach tenderly as he’s sure it’s stuffed, and curl up against the arm of the couch, he knows nothing else is getting done tonight. Your eyes are glued to the screen, Sarah’s dress glittering as her hair flounces with every movement of the couple. He’s never been a Bowie fan, but he reckons you are by the way your eyes shine whenever he’s on screen.

He’s jealous of David Bowie.

Oh, fuck, he never thought he’d sink this low. But he feels something unfamiliar and sharp prod at his chest whenever you pay just a little too much attention to the man on screen, and he prods at your feet with his own.

“Hoggin’ the couch,” He chides you, with no real scorn as he tangles his legs with yours, “Stretched out like you own the place.”

“Sor-ry,” You huff dramatically, clocking his teasing grin and knowing he’s just messing around, “It’s not my fault your couch is comfier than mine.”

Eddie remembers your admission, that you’ve been sleeping on your couch for god-knows-how-long, and his stomach sours. He studies your face, the way that your eyelids droop even though you’re clearly enjoying the movie, the wrinkling of your chin as you yawn. You’re clearly exhausted, and his space is the comfort you need.

He feels something akin to pride at that. You not only feel comfortable enough around him to curl up on his couch, but you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep. He might be new at this, the whole relationship thing, but he knows that’s big.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel such a large blade of jealousy stabbing at his heart anymore, because you’re not cuddled up to David Bowie on David Bowie’s couch, are you? No. You’re curled up with him, on his couch.

Take that, Bowie.

It’s around the one-and-a-half hour mark, only ten minutes before the movie ends, that he realizes he’s the only one watching. He’s been glancing back and forth between the screen and you for ages now, but when he checks up on you this time, you’re asleep. He can see your chest rising and falling, his shirt still worn proudly over your frame, and a sleepy smile curves over his face. Your lashes kiss your cheeks, casting shadows down your face that look like spiderwebs. It looks cool, and he makes a mental note to ask you if you’d let him put eyeliner on you to see if he can turn it into a spiderweb. It’s a design he’s been meaning to do on himself, but if he needs a model, why would you turn him down?

The end of the movie isn’t so entrancing to him anymore now that you’re snoozing, and once more he lets his eyes drift over your frame. Your skirt is tucked neatly under your bum, but your thighs peek out of it, soft and plumped by the way you’re laying. Then his eyes rove over your shirt, the familiar, hand-crafted design looking better on you than it ever has on him or his friends. It’s odd, seeing the shirt on anyone but the boys in his friend group, but he quickly decides that it’s his favorite outfit of yours, and that nothing in the world could top it.

The end credits announce themselves in an encore of the film’s soundtrack, and Eddie reluctantly parts from the cozy embrace you’ve found yourself in. He ejects the tape, stuffing it back into its case and tucking it carefully back onto the stack. Now that he knows it’s his ticket to time spent with you, he’s much more reluctant to take it back to Family Video tomorrow like he’d planned. Maybe he’ll keep it, late fee be damned.

“Y/N,” He hates the thought of waking you, but he hates the thought of inconveniencing his uncle even more, and you’re curled up on what will become Wayne’s pull-out.

“Y/N,” He tries again, soft and soothing as he taps your shoulder gently, “Wake up, we’ve gotta get you home.”

The clock only reads 10:23, but he’d feel guilty getting you home at an indecent hour. Typically, Eddie’s philosophy is etiquette be damned, but he has a feeling you wouldn’t be too happy about being dumped on your front porch after two in the morning.

“Y/N,” He slips a hand under your torso, his other sliding under your legs, “C’mon, wake up.”

You don’t. You must have really had trouble sleeping on your couch, because now that you’re dozing off, you don’t seem to wake up easily. Worry gnaws at Eddie’s chest as he hoists you into his arms and you don’t wake, only sighing contentedly and curling closer to him.

His eyes widen and his cheeks burn as you snuggle up to him unconsciously, your cheek pressed against his KISS-clad chest. Your nose nudges into his neck and he swears he sees stars, his knees weakening at the intimate contact like you hadn’t just been touching his lips hours beforehand.

“‘Gonna be the death of me,” He mutters, voice devoid of any real anger as he trudges down the hall to his room. His bed is neatly made, pillows stacked at the head that he reaches up and kicks down with one of his socked feet. It flops flat onto the mattress with a thump, and Eddie lowers you as carefully as humanly possible onto the bed. You aren’t too keen to let go, though, because your arms stay tightly wound around his neck. He tries straightening but you come right back up with him, brows scrunching in displeasure at being jostled around.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie laughs, lovestruck, “‘Gotta let go.”

“Eddie,” You mumble hazily, sound far too much like a lover he’s just accidentally jostled by getting out of bed to get ready for work in the morning, “Don’ go.”

“I can’t leave you here,” He reasons, returning your favor and smoothing out the wrinkle in your brows with his thumb, “I’ve gotta grab my keys and shoes, then we’ll take you home.”

“Nooo,” You whine, sleep tugging at your voice, “‘S too cozy here. I don’t wanna leave.”

“But no one knows you’re staying here,” Eddie’s afraid that your parents might come home early, discover their child missing, and storm his trailer with pitchforks, “Don’t you wanna head back home to your own bed?”

"Couch.” You mumble grouchily, “My parents aren't home," Your voice is groggy and weak, but Eddie swears it's more angelic than any hymn he's ever heard, "'S okay."

"Are you sure?" He reaches up, smooths a hand over your forehead then down your cheek without thinking, but before he can panic over the intimate gesture you're leaning into it, letting out a contented hum that quite reminds him of a kitten's purr.

"'M sure," You promise, already curling up cozily beneath his blanket, looking far too natural and perfect in a space you'd never occupied before, and Eddie feared, never would again.

"Okay." He's breathless and weak as your eyes drift shut, his hand lingering against the curve of your face, "G'night sweetheart."

He isn’t sure what to do from there. He could move his hand, he probably should move his hand, so that he doesn’t stand there for hours holding you, but that seems all the more tempting with every passing second. He marvels at his luck, how he’s managed to get to heaven without dying. Unless he is dead. But he’s almost certain he’ll be sent to hell for the sheer amount of drugs he’s sold to high school students, so he’s sure it isn’t that.

You must be an angel, he decides, one that isn’t afraid of the devil everyone says he is. He gets a brief vision of matching halloween costumes to that effect, a wiry halo perched on your head while devil ears adorn his. The scene’s unfiltered domesticity stuns him, along with how perfect it feels. It doesn’t feel awkward or forced, instead like something you’d come up with on the phone at ungodly hours and commit to months before the holiday.

He’ll bring the idea up to you tomorrow.

For now, he has to figure out where he’s sleeping. He’s not taking Wayne’s bed, but you’re in his, and that would be wrong.

Right?

Eddie studies the way your body is laid out on his mattress, knees tucked towards your chest and arms bundled up below your face, clutching the blanket he’d thrown over you. You take up a fraction of the mattress, the side that he normally sleeps on still unobscured.

Would it really be that bad if he laid opposite you? He wouldn’t touch you, he wouldn’t throw an arm over your waist, he wouldn’t tangle his legs with yours, he wouldn’t press a soft kiss to your forehead before drifting off. He wouldn’t.

He wants to, though.

He gives into another temptation, hopefully his last for the night, and lets himself indulge in your presence. He slides onto the end of the mattress, careful not to disrupt you as you slumber.

It feels weird, having someone in his bed beside him. Weird, but good. He decides, in fact, that there’s no better feeling aside from your fingers on his lips, than you in bed beside him. He stares up at the ceiling, willing the urge to kiss your nose away before he can screw up the best thing that’s happened to him in years.

One single, cautious glance thrown your way, and it’s all over.

Your hand is bared towards him, the smooth skin on the back of it in perfect kissing-range. He would be an idiot not to, right? That’s what gentlemen do, after all, they kiss the back of their lady’s hand. Typically not without her knowledge, or while she’s in bed with him, but it’s the principle of it, not the specific scenario.

He reaches for your hand hesitantly, and once his skin brushes yours he sees fireworks that light up the dark room. They nearly short out his vision, and when he sees clearly again, your hand is poised directly in front of his lips, his own hand still clutching it securely.

“Sleep good, sweetheart.” He whispers, near-inaudible in the darkness, then his lips press delicately against your hand.

Such unimaginable warmth and giddiness fill his chest, that he’s sure he’ll explode. There’s going to be Eddie Guts on the walls and ceiling, rotted sickly sweet from how infatuated with you he’s become in such a short time. Kissing you, albeit only your hand, feels like something he wants to do for the rest of his life, and he can only hope you’re gracious enough to grant him that privilege.

That’s a discussion for the morning, though, or never, Eddie reminds himself. He’s just kissed your hand in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping like a creep, he might not be too eager to admit that to you in the morning in a desperate plea to do it again. He refrains from peppering the rest of your skin in adoring kisses, but keeps your hand clutched in his own, marveling at the way that you can warm him up completely from a single touch.

It must be an angel thing, he decides, as he drifts off into a happy slumber, tomorrow he’ll ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven.

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

6K notes · View notes

elysiansparadise · 7 months

Text

Full of surprises, you never finish getting to know them but as time goes by, your affection for them grows. Lighthearted outside, profound personality on the inside.

Gemini Rising: Fascinating Mind & Heart

Charming smile, well accompanied by an inquisitive, agile and curious mind, complement a personality endowed with depth and many layers that protect someone who fears feeling lost and directionless, someone who puts a lot of pressure on themselves and who often overanalyzes the things they happen around you. They have a strong need to understand what is really happening around them, to not miss anything and to achieve that stability that they have not felt throughout their lives. Your mind is a temple full of knowledge, interesting things to say and share, but most importantly, it keeps great abilities, intelligence and enchanting qualities.

Security is something crucial for them, both emotional and economic, and they are willing to give everything of themselves so as not to lose it once they achieve it. This behavior and way of seeing things is attributed to them by Cancer in the 2nd house. They tend to be very protective people with what they consider important in their lives, some of these natives can become attached to their material goods for the simple fact that it has taken them time to obtain them, despite this, they are generous people when it comes to those. To those who love. Being a house ruled by the Moon when it is in Cancer, these people can experience economic ups and downs in their lives. Likewise, this house, beyond talking about our material goods, talks about our self-esteem, which is stressed throughout their life. They are people who take great care of their money, but may have a tendency to spend it on one whim or another. Many of them may make purchases when they are emotionally down as a way to find comfort. They have the need for constancy on an emotional level, keeping promises, demonstrating through actions that the native is important and providing them with reaffirmation and reliability, in return, these natives give exactly the same to the other person.

The presence of Leo in the 3rd house makes these natives have great intellectual ability. Being a house ruled by the Sun, it makes them capable of standing out and shining for their surprising intellect. Accompanied by the ease of learning new skills and highlighting their hobbies, this native has great charisma and an ability to move, entertain and communicate exactly what is going through their minds. Academically they may have been very successful, stood out for their performance or even been seen as charming and fun by their peers, this however also makes them prone to attracting some envy. They passionately share what crosses their mind and are able to spread passion and interest through their speech. Many of these natives are great communicators and have great abilities to understand all kinds of ideas, no matter how complex they may be. They are determined to continue obtaining knowledge in areas that arouse their interest, in which they are certainly very selective. They are people who hold tightly to their opinions and can become very good at convincing people that they are right. Many of them can enjoy debating and communicating ideas contrary to those that are established. They speak from the heart, they hate speeches that are too technical, boring or not very dynamic, they will always seek to add fun, a touch of comedy or at least interesting to a conversation. They stand out for their creativity and wittiness, traits that make them very loved by others.

These people are lighthearted and very accepting of those things that seem different or unknown to them, but there is a quality about themselves that only those who are very close to them know, their tendency towards perfectionism and that desire to want to have things under control, shown par excellence with Virgo in the 4th house. These natives like to have things under control, especially their emotional world and themselves. They tend to show these traits especially with themselves, in some cases they may want to take care of some things themselves in order for things to be done well and in their own way, especially if Saturn is in this house or if the ruler is making a hard aspect with Saturn [conjunction, square, opposition, quincunx]. They dislike uncertainty and what is not certain, as it makes them anxious and uncomfortable to a certain extent. They are very analytical people even with their emotions, they like to know why they feel what they feel and they can spend a lot of time in their inner world trying to figure out who they really are. They are very private people when it comes to their family life and emotional vulnerability. It is very likely that they have experienced some emotionally complex moment that has made them partially or temporarily distance themselves from some family members.

A unique charm, a personality so interesting and sublime that it envelops you with a simple glance. Their voice, their ethereal beauty, their charisma and their enchanting skills make those with Libra in the 5th house the target of all those looking for a romantic lover who adds excitement to their lives. They are thoughtful, loving people who give their best in their love relationships, they have a desire to love deeply and be loved in that way, with perseverance, meaningful details and feel that deep connection that awakens that spark of inspiration in them. Love with them feels like heaven itself, a perfect mix of passion and affection, friendship and love. They can have many artistic gifts, especially those related to design and aesthetics, their beauty makes them stand out and they have a unique quality that makes them easily loved by the public. Being ruled by Venus, makes these natives like and attracted to the interesting, the fun and, why not, the risk and intensity of this fire house [naturally ruled by Leo]. They can greatly enjoy movies, cinema and music, in general have a great appreciation of art. In the case that they decide to have children, they will treat them gently and teach them kindness and good values, at the same time they will do activities that they enjoy with them and they will be very caring and loving. They can have very sociable, kind and graceful children.

One of the reasons why this particular rising is attributed its sharp and impressive analytical capabilities is because of Scorpio in the 6th house, this overlay makes them extremely observant, reaching the point that nothing slips and nothing easy to lie or hide things about them. They have research skills, an outstanding intellect and an excellent eye for detail. Many of them can work in the economics sector due to their analysis skills, others can opt for the health field, whether as doctors, psychologists, veterinarians or in another area that involves healing, and finally they can obtain the field of the industry for the quality of transformation. Most of these natives, being very independent and disliking feeling controlled in any way, may choose to work on their own and many of them [especially if Saturn is there or aspecting the 6th house ruler] may prefer or achieve leadership roles in their works. Their work environment is usually tense, they may have co-workers who envy their promotions or abilities, or who have lots of disagreements with them. In terms of health, the native enjoys vitality and good health, it is necessary that they learn to manage their thoughts because they have a tendency to deal with anxiety, intrusive thoughts or intense fears/phobias. Likewise, they may have hormonal problems. These people reject monotony and feel the need to feel mentally stimulated, so they may seem busy most of the time by the various interests they have or how busy their mind can be.

When these natives commit to someone to have a serious relationship, they are adventure personified, this is shown with Sagittarius in the 7th house. There is something so radiant and touching about them and it is that they are like a ray of light for their partners, they are the ones who, after the torrid storms that life can give them, return that hope, give them that support and are there by their side ready to continue accompanying them. They give their partner many joys and unforgettable moments, new experiences and a partner who loves them for who they are. These natives are looking for a partner who will give them those experiences and sensations that they thought they would never have on those dark nights, someone who excites them, is the reason for their mischievous smiles and who is that partner who teaches and guides them when they are most nervous or insecure. they can feel. Someone who contributes positively to their lives, who gives as much as they know they can give and who addresses them with transparency and honesty. They look for certainty from their partner, someone who does not hesitate to say and feel that the native is the one, someone who makes obvious the interest they feel towards them and constantly reaffirms it but in the process makes things interesting and intriguing. Future spouse is likely to be older in experience or age but very young at heart, someone with wisdom and a lot of experiences to tell the native, in some cases they are usually from a different continent, country or state and are usually like a teacher for the native. Something incredible about these natives is that they tend to have a positive influence on others, who perceive them to be more passionate, happy, and optimistic than they perceive themselves to be. They always leave an important lesson wherever they go and their warmth and good nature remains with others.

When we see Capricorn in the 8th house, the native who fears the idea of being perceived as uninteresting, predictable and superficial, they fear other people imposing rules or expectations on them and, in some cases they may fear feeling that they are like one of their parents, or an older member of their family. May have difficulty feeling intimate with someone, because this house is ruled by Saturn after all which adds obstacles when it comes to becoming intimate on a deep level with someone. They look for stability and trust as well as the feeling of having reliability from the other person. They love being with people with whom they share points of view and ways of seeing life, since many of them find it very difficult to be with someone who has very different ideals from their own in terms of relationships. In sex, they can enjoy being with partners who are older than them, with more experience or who simply teach them new things, they have an intense drive and can be more passionate than they first appear. Something that goes hand in hand with the feeling of desire that they may have towards someone is admiration. If the other person does not inspire them, does not seek to improve themselves and has no ambition, it can be a huge turn off for them. Physical contact for them is something crucial in a relationship, they will love to touch and turn on their partner in this way, but they can like it even if there is no sex involved, hugs, massages or holding hands can even be something that makes them feel safe or happy with their partner. There is a mix between the desire to dominate or be dominated by your partner in bed but also to protect and be protected by them. As time goes by, the native connects more with their sexual energy and their sex appeal increases as they grow.

With Aquarius in the 9th house the native has an insatiable thirst for new knowledge, it is never usually enough for them to learn new things or skills and they seek to delve deeply into a topic. They may have a tendency to get fixated on a specific topic quickly but become disinterested once they feel they have already explored everything. They are curious about the idea of visiting distant places and it is likely that they will do several of them throughout their lives. Being ruled by Uranus, surprising and unexpected things can happen to them on trips, and this also indicates many plane trips. In terms of career, they may opt for a career that no one in their family has studied, or that they don't like, or simply something that seems very complex in the eyes of others. The decision to take a gap year is likely, and if Uranus is making tense aspects to Saturn, they will likely decide not to study at university. Even so, the native will possess great wisdom and a very unique way of seeing the world. They may have many friends who live far from them or, to be more specific, in other countries, but despite the distance they feel a genuine and close touch to them.

Pisces in the 10th house makes them people who can give different impressions, and each one is very different from the other. Many people tend to project themselves onto natives more frequently than they would like, in the same way, people tend to idealize them constantly. It is very likely that parents will place many expectations on the native, especially if the ruler is making a tense aspect with the Moon or Saturn. This overlay usually gives the native a wide variety of interests, so the decision of what career to study can be a big and difficult decision that they face when they are young. What they know for sure is that they need a job in which They can learn a lot and use their talents and creative abilities. These people may work in the art field or in places where they can help other people. With this position of Pisces, the natives usually give an ethereal impression, they charm the public and strangers easily, their beauty can be something that makes them stand out among the crowd, also due to the nature of this sign, this person can contribute a lot to others through your work, you can impact the lives of others in a favorable way, you can help and inspire many with ease.

There is something admirable about the independence of these people, the confidence with which they project themselves and how they seem to be very well on their own, what makes them even more inspiring is the quality they can offer in their friendships, all of this a product of Aries in the 11th house. These people focus a lot on their friendships, on being there for them and making them have a good time after a difficult day. Although they do not seem very emotional with them, their support is unconditional and they fervently support those they call friends. Speaking of this area, they tend to be people who attract some drama in their groups of friends, which makes them opt for small groups. In personal terms, this house also governs economic income, so Aries here indicates a person who seeks to generate money, an enterprising soul to whom the doors of money are not closed and can work a lot or in one or more things to have your desired income. They like to be financially independent and take pride in achieving things on their own. They will fight to achieve their goals and to make come true what they aspired to at some point in their life.

Life has been a complex journey, hasn't it? One where you have been tested an enormous number of times, how much you can tolerate, how much you can change, how many changes you can adapt to. It seems that life has a fast pace, and that leads you to adapt to the flow of it. When will it be my turn? Can someone or something adapt to me? Taurus in the 12th house makes you want a minute of peace, but at the same time it brings with it the fear of being left behind, of stagnating but also of not finding tranquility. You want to be able to take a breath, to enjoy the feeling of having a safe place, and experience stability for the first time. You don't allow yourself to stop, be still and you put a lot of pressure on yourself, but deep down you would like to feel that you are not being rushed, that there is no rush to make a decision, that there is no rush to grow, that there is no need to run if you have doubts. You may be carrying a feeling of little stability from a very young age, the idea of creating your own stability or being the only person in whom you can find reliability. Doubts or feeling unconfident overwhelm you, but it has never been enough to stop you, you have the will and the desire to move forward, even if you would silently like someone to be by your side to guide and guide you when the paths become very dark. Unconsciously you evoke this feeling of companionship and stability, many people really feel that you are a beyond trustworthy person, someone with whom life seems like an entertaining and interesting journey. You evoke a feeling of peace and you can see that throughout your life many people will trust you and feel secure with your presence. With this overlay, you can have very intense variations in self-esteem, some of these natives may be afraid of not knowing what is going to happen and losing control of themselves and their life. They dream of being able to have everything they ever wanted to have [material and emotional] even if at some point they thought they would never have it or experience it.

#astrology #gemini rising #gemini ascendant #gemini in the 1st house #gemini asc #gemini #natal chart #birth chart #ascendant

774 notes · View notes

seresinhangmanjake · 6 months

Text

The One I Want: Part 7

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You’re new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes/Warnings: traumatic past, trust issues, cursing, very likely typos

Words: 3262

The One I Want Masterlist

Jake Seresin is a puzzle whose pieces, as you have come to see, are already slotted together. You learned tonight that a few of those pieces are worn from being picked at, but they don’t impede his ability to be complete. Jake is beautiful and smart with a well-built confidence and a certain quality that, with enough time, makes you want to open yourself up to him. Everything about him goes together. It all works. Those pieces make Jake the man he is, in all of his perfection. So being in his presence, you want to be who he wants you to be. You want to be just as put together. But you’re not sure you’re strong enough for that.

“You can trust me,” he says, your hands still clasped together. You glance down at those hands, wondering when exactly he wove his fingers with yours. “I’ll share first if that’ll make it any easier.”

Eyes flicking up, you take in the intensity of the pair staring back at you—the depth within them, the swelling pupils that are pushing the green into a thin ring and drawing you in. They’re too honest, and it hits you like a ton of bricks.

Has anyone else ever looked at you this way? You think the closest instance you can recall involves the man you’d naively fallen in love with who lived in the first town you’d moved to on your own. But his look was a hidden lie discovered far too late.

You suppose there was a fraction of Jake’s honesty in Millie’s eyes when she expressed her thoughts and told her story so openly. She would probably be willing to attempt understanding you if you offered it.

You know you’re reaching, though. Trying to grasp at something that isn’t all there to prove that the way Jake is looking at you now is nothing unique. That it’s not special. That he doesn’t make your heart pound or your stomach flutter or cause a tingle to creep up your spine.

But when you consider telling him the truth of your history, you already sense the shame you’ve been living with for years preparing to double in force. And how can you allow that? You don’t need anything else weighing you down. You can’t possibly handle more. Certainly not from him.

You tear your eyes away from his and aren’t shocked to find that that’s exactly what it feels like—a tear. A tearing that holds so much resistance you can practically hear the slow rip that severs the connection.

“It’s not that easy,” you whisper.

“It can be,” he says, fingers tightening around yours. “You know how much I want to know you.”

The closing of your throat doesn’t allow you to swallow. An invisible hand is wrapped around your neck, blocking your oxygen, fogging your vision with unwanted tears. Your lip quivers all on its own.

Jake reaches out, lightly pressing his thumb to that lip as if he could stop its trembling.

Then you shake your head and his thumb disappears.

Standing, you try to step away, but his hand, still tangled with yours, stops you. You think he’s doing it on purpose, refusing to let you leave until he gets what he wants, but when you look at his face, it’s blank. His eyes stare ahead, the corners of his mouth are turned downward, and he doesn’t seem to feel you prying open his fingers to free your hand.

His arm drops and slides into his lap, and you take that as a sign to retreat to your bedroom.

You’re not quite through the door when you hear, “I wish you felt like you could trust me.” His voice is as defeated as his facial expression had shown. Low, dark, raspy. “Whatever it is, it's not going to change how I see you.”

You want to believe him so badly. So much so that, without any effort, you could let it consume you. But you can’t bet on his words. So you close your door the rest of the way.

—

You’ve thought about him for a week straight, and each of those thoughts has scribbled their way into the notebook you’d sort of kind of—would deny it if anyone asked—stolen from the shop.

But your little notes on Jake you don’t allow to blend with the chaotic notes of your past. He gets his own pages with words written in neater script. There’s not a single smudge of ink from your hand rubbing the paper in a rush to get your memories down before you forget some of their details. Not a single splotch of liquid black from a pen pressed too harshly onto the paper. No holes from that pen tracing the same words over and over in a fit of dampened anger. Like Jake, your notes on him are neat, and beautiful, and perfect in appearance.

What they contain, however, is something different: bunches of sentences warring with one another as you try to decide what you’re going to do next. You live with him. You see him every day. You’ll have to interact, which means you’ll have to get over this hump. The only problem is that it may not be a hump Jake wants to get over.

In the months you’ve known him, you’ve never seen him the way he was that night last week. So much was crammed into a couple of hours and it provided you with a fresh image of him—not an image that changed, exactly, but simply an image that developed a new layer. And you liked having that layer of his visible, until it became clear that the spotlight was turning to you so you may develop another layer as well.

Stepping out of that light meant plenty to you—you knew the message you were sending, even though you felt resistance from every part of you screaming to stay put—but it did more to Jake than you imagined, and that realization came in the form of Jake not speaking to over the past weeks worth of mornings, not smiling, not waiting for you so you could share breakfast. He’s gone before your alarm goes off.

It only took you ten hours to notice the void that formed in your chest from missing him around you. After ten hours—most of which you spent trying to sleep—you felt awful in more ways than one. Not only were you exhausted and absorbing your dislike of his absence that first morning, but Jake, despite his hurt state, continues to take care of you.

Those breakfasts he doesn’t wait around to share with you are still available, already made up on a plate with saran wrap keeping them safe in the fridge. The post-its he sticks to the coffee pot to inform you of said breakfasts never fail to have a small smiley face drawn in the corner. And to be fair, he does speak to you a little, but unless it seems to be a matter of life or death, which you haven’t been able to manage, his answers are clipped. Even then, it could be that those short answers are the best he can do for himself rather than anything he is doing for your benefit. With how much Jake talks in general, and with how lively you are used to seeing him, maybe he can’t be one-hundred percent silent no matter how much he wants to.

Regardless of what it really is, the tension has grown thicker by the day.

These days are not ones you want to morph into routine. You can’t watch them settle and solidify when you crave him and what he adds to your new life to this degree. Which means you have to figure yourself out. Not all of you—that will take some time—but enough of you that you can approach Jake and take the chance to be honest with him. His offer to exchange stories shows that it is not just you who needs it, but Jake as well.

That is what has prompted you to bring your notebook to work over the last seven days. And the more time you spend writing your notes, the more you release from your damaged soul, and the more good things about Jake start piling up. His faults are underwhelming and overshadowed, and all it confirms is that you want him back. So you decide that when he picks you up from work, something you never expected him to continue doing considering your current relationship, you’re going to break the silence by asking for another chance.

—

When Rooster’s truck pulls up to the store, Millie is leaning halfway out the passenger side window, one hand waving your way, the other arm bracing her precarious position. A moment later, her elbow slips on the sill and she lurches forward with a sharp yelp. Looking past her, you can see Rooster reach over the center console and wrap his arm around her waist to pull her back to safety.

“Babe, please,” he groans. “You’re stressing me out.”

She glances at him over her shoulder. “Oh, you hush. I’ve never fallen.”

“Yet,” he emphasizes. “I’d like it if my girlfriend stayed alive. I've got plans that involve you.”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Darlin’. You know my hips will save me from making it all the way out the window.”

Rooster only rolls his eyes in response before unwrapping his arm and giving her ass a light smack.

Millie looks back at you, her grin wide and displaying a row of straight, white teeth. “Hey, honey. Workin’ hard or hardly workin’?”

“You can only work so hard here,” you say with a weak chuckle. “Where’s Jake? Is he okay?”

You want that answer as much as you don’t. You pray he’s fine and safe, but then it means the tension that hasn’t dwindled the slightest has finally become too much for him. Though you’d rather he avoid you than be injured or ill, it hurts no less. Right as you devise a plan to bring the two of you back together, he pulls further away.

“Oh, he’s um…” Millie bites her lip.

“Staying on base tonight,” Rooster says, leaning back to meet your eyes over Millie’s shoulder. “He went in to get some extra work done and thought it would be easier.”

If the lie weren’t so terribly obvious, Rooster’s face would’ve betrayed him. The man is not a master of deception. He can’t pull it off. You suppose that bodes well for Millie, if he would ever dare tell her an untruth. Not that you can imagine a situation where he would.

Millie’s nerves wipe from her face at her boyfriend’s explanation, and you almost snort from how cute they are. They operate as their own little team, supporting and backing their partner up to keep the other from falling. Whether they succeed in their mission, like trying to convince you Jake is busy, is another thing.

Your little red-headed friend transforms back into her giddy self. “Right, so he asked us to come get ya,” she says with a wink.

Now that, you do believe. Jake may not want to see you, but he wouldn’t leave you stranded. And as disappointing as it is to see Rooster’s truck instead of the one you perfer, you know it’s not enough to convince you to give up on your end goal. With your plan thwarted, you only gain more time to figure out exactly how you’re going to bring up what you want to tell Jake.

—

You’ve decided Sundays are the best days. Sundays are easy days. They are days set aside for relaxing, where you can spend twenty-four hours in your home with only a robe wrapped around your body and not be judged. Many stores are closed on Sundays, the gift shop included, and most people don’t work, Jake included. And Jake Seresin, though not the type to sit around, does allow himself the mornings of Sundays to be what he would normally consider lazy.

When you first moved in, you didn’t love this habit of his. Knowing no one but him and knowing no place but the apartment meant you didn’t do anything or see anyone else. He had you locked in with him for at least three hours before he met his team at the gym, and he took those three hours very seriously. Most of their minutes he dedicated to being around ta you,lking to you, asking you questions—anything you did, he was there to do it with you. And while it once bugged you a bit, it eventually grew on you. He grew on you. You stopped caring about how he spent his Sunday mornings because your routine and his melded into a comfortable place, and you've had no intentions of disrupting that—until now.

After forgoing sleep to spend the entire night thinking about Jake, you’re sure you look like hell when you step out of your room and into the living room where he sits. You didn’t think to check yourself in the mirror, and Jake doesn’t acknowledge you in favor of reading his book to confirm or deny your likely-ragged state.

You don’t care how you look, though.

You care about pushing yourself forward.

“Jake?”

His hum is dismissive, but you don’t hold it against him. You understand his feelings too well, and you accept them. When he was so vulnerable and raw—when he told you something he’d not told even his closest friends—you denied him the same courtesy, and that decision hurt him. He aches. You still see it on his face and in his movements. The way his fingers gripped the book and his shoulders tensed the moment you entered the room. How he pulled his bottom lip inward and trapped it between his teeth and has yet to let it go.

He’s trying to hide the discomfort your presence causes, and he is doing so well that, as someone with plenty of experience, you’re almost proud. But the act unravels completely when you say, “I trust you.”

His head slowly rises. Then, closing the book and setting it aside, Jake stands from his spot on the couch, brow pinched as if he had not heard you correctly. “What did you say?”

“I trust you,” you repeat.

One hand settles on his hip as the other goes through his hair. He squeezes his eyes shut in a two-second long blink as if trying to snap himself awake. Lips part, perhaps to say something, anything, but then they seal again.

Before you lose your nerve, you inhale, exhale, and with a single nod, mutter to yourself a final, “I trust him.”

Then you spew out everything you’ve kept inside—everything you’ve kept away from him.

“My parents left me,” you say aloud for the very first time. You try to hold them back, but tears accompany that statement, gathering in the corners of your eyes. “Dad first, when I was nine. Mom when I was fourteen. They left and I don’t know where they are, and I don’t really care, but they disappeared and it…it messed me up. It left me lost, and I learned to let people hurt me because no one showed me anything else. I let people treat me however they want, which most often means attacking the insecure parts of me. I let them call me names and look at me in ways that strip me of my dignity, and I can’t stop it. I don’t stop them.

“When I can’t take it anymore, I leave wherever I am,” you say before pausing to catch your breath.

Jake doesn’t take the opportunity to speak. He stands there, staring, listening, waiting for you to offer him more.

“You weren’t that far off at the diner when you said I was trying to live in every beach town for two months before moving on to the next. They haven’t all been beach towns, but there have been many of them and I never stay for long,” you admit. “The minute I have the means, I go. I graduated high school by myself and left my hometown, fell in love with an asshole in the second town and left, got a job at a bar whose drunks found me an easy target, so I left again, and it’s been the same everywhere I’ve landed, again and again and again. People break me down so I find someplace new. You are—” You cut yourself off to reconsider your words, “This is my eleventh new place.” One of those tears breaks free to slide down your cheek. “And I don’t know how long I’m going to last here, but I already hate the thought of leaving.”

Done with your speech, you release a heavy breath.

When Jake looks away from you, it’s a bucket of ice water dumped over your head. Your heart crushes with the realization that you were right. Jake was wrong. Seeing you differently is not as difficult as you had hoped and he had promised. In fact, he doesn’t see you at all anymore because he won’t even give you a glance. You presented the reality that you are unloved and unwanted and explained exactly why that is, and now he has in his hand all of the reasons why others mistreat you, the ability to evaluate those reasons, and decide for himself if those reasons are valid.

And in that moment, you know you are fucked. You’re about to be lost again. On your own, in the dark, with nothing to hold on to. Not that you didn’t anticipate this coming along eventually, but you would have liked to stick around a little longer.

Through the blur of tears, you see Jake nod. That’s all. No words, no shift in facial expression; he nods to the floor rather than give you the respect of nodding to your face. He nods again, and then he looks up to meet your gaze.

Jake’s hands fall from his hips, and in four strides he closes the space keeping you apart, cups your jaw in the heat of his palms, and plants his lips on yours.

His kiss lands somewhere between hard and soft, between eager and restrained, between needy and downright desperate. And after adjusting to the shock he plunged you into, your mouth begins to move against his.

Jake is warm, and cozy; he tastes like the one Splenda packet he puts in the oatmeal he occasionally has for breakfast, and it all makes your brain hum in a comfortable delight. You take from him all that he takes from you, and give to him all that he gives you, and in the process, accept that you truly want this and he wants this and that’s all that matters. You’re not working harder to please him than he is working to please you. You’re not thinking about what he will think when your lips separate. You’re not afraid of being a disappointment because were that the case, surely he would have released you by now. But he hasn’t released you. He holds on and pulls closer and doesn’t let go, not even when the kiss breaks.

Thumbs stroke your cheeks as your eyes slowly drag from his swollen lips to his nose to that mossy-green shade you’ve become attached to. There’s a hint of concern in his stare. But then you smile, so he smiles, and the concern fades.

“Your turn,” you whisper.

---

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @rogersbarnesxx @nani-kenobi @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @fox-bee926 @hangmandruigandmav @waltermis @fandom-life-12 @a-serene-place-to-be @bruher @cehenyne @tngrace @mamaskillerqueen @emma8895eb @benedictsvestcollection @blackwidownat2814 @himbos-on-ice @entertainmentgal8 @hookslove1592 @whoeverineedtobe @alwaysclassyeagle @chaytea06 @cherrycolas-things @turtle-in-a-tornado @have-a-nice-day-k @inkandarsenic @kidd3ath

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #top gun #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin x plaus size!reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

506 notes · View notes

ineffable-suffering · 7 months

Text

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

This is Part 2 of 3 total metas. Here are:

Part 1, in case you want to read about my analysis of the Story of Job first

and Part 3, in case you're impatient and want to jump ahead.

Fair warning though, for the sake of understanding some of the references, you're probably better off reading this chaptered meta chronologically. However, every part should work just as well as a standalone! I'll do my very best to make it so.

Alright, off or on you go beyond the cutty cut!

I'll start this second part off with a very brief summary of the main take aways and points from Part 1, which go as such:

Memory, as opposed to a third party's narration, is not a factual, objective retelling of a story or event. It's mingled and mangled with emotions, imaginations and exaggerations, projecting both the feelings and impressions you had back then as well as those you might have now in the present time back on whatever it is you are remembering. (Which is why we need to put everything that Aziraphale is remembering into the context of what he might have felt in the past, as well as what he's feeling right now.)

While this doesn't mean his (or anyone's) memories are lies, it does mean they're a very subjective and sometimes factually distorted representation of what actually happened, which, in our case, gives us a lot of subtext and a lot of not-there furniture to figure out and look at.

So, let's continue with S2E3 and the Story of wee Morag. We start our flashback with a scene of Aziraphale writing his diary entry on the 10th of November, 1827. Immediately, it's firmly established that this is once again not an outside-point-of-view narration, but rather what Aziraphale remembers and wrote down.

One thing that immediately stuck out to me here, is how helpful and kind Crowley is to Elspeth, pretty much from the very beginning when they meet her in the graveyard. Not only does he take on a Scottish accent so she won't perceive him as English (as she does with Aziraphale), but he also helps her drag the barrel that has the fresh body in it and, in the end, even pulls it all by himself while Elspeth simply follows behind them. Here's a rather poor-quality picture, for reference:

Now, we know that despite not showing it very often, Crowley has always been very fond of the humans and never really put himself on a pedestal simply because he's an immortal being himself. He likes humans, just like Aziraphale does. But, just like this story will tell us, Crowley knows that on top of liking humans, you can't just put them into boxes of good and evil and expect them to always do what is supposedly the "right" or "divinely good" thing to do. (Which is what differentiates him from Aziraphale in the way he understands and treats them, as we're shown in this minisode).

Him immediately and unspokenly helping Elspeth with dragging the barrel therefore might also be a first sign of a tiny projection from present day Aziraphale, as opposed to what Crowley might have actually done (probably just walked beside her, like Aziraphale) because he has the knowledge that Crowley really was so very kind to her in the end, wasn't he? And that he's kind to humans in general. ("Not kind! Off my head on Laudanum!" Sure, babe.)

Most of this minisode, in my opinion, is actually there to establish how Aziraphale's view of morality and good vs. evil used to be quite flawed and elitist –– and how Crowley has always been there to gently nudge him towards questioning his black and white view of heavenly right and hellishly wrong. That's why I think there's not as many hints in this minisode about Aziraphale's memories not being an accurate portrayal of what happened, as there are in the Story of Job or the magic show in 1941. (And, fear not, the latter will definitely be the most hint-heavy one). Alas, there's still a few bits and bobs in the Story of wee Morag that stuck out to me, that make a brief yet good case of the whole unreliable narration thing.

First of all: The way Aziraphale describes all of it in his diary is so different from the way we see him actually remembering it. It's almost like he tried to write this entry (and possibly all of his diary) as a bit of a thrilling short story, with himself as the main character. Which makes sense, given the fact that he adores books and would certainly be keen on dabbling in the art of capital-w Writing himself. It's yet again hinting at the fact that sometimes people (and angels) try to polish and bedazzle stories (and memories) to make them seem more exciting and adventurous, often to distract from the not-so-fun parts of it.

Like when Aziraphale's diary narrates:

"It was with heavy heart we arrived at Elspeth's destination. I was determined to thwart her monstrous plan!"

... and yet we see Crowley and Elspeth casually walking down the alleyway, very obviously not heavy-hearted in the slightest, while Aziraphale nervously scurries on behind them, very obviously not determined to thwart. (Timestamp-wise, it's around 17:38 in S2E3, in case you want to see for yourself.)

We get another cinematographic/auditory hint at the fact that Aziraphale's memory is heavily influenced by what he's feeling that very moment, when Dr. Mister Dalrymple –– FRCSE, thank you very much –– shows him the tumor he removed from the seven year old boy. You can see the shock and horror on Aziraphale's face once he learns of this child's cruel fate. We then proceed to hear Mr. Dalrymple's voice grow sort of echo-y and far away as the sad music swells up and drowns out his voice almost completely. It's awfully similar to what it feels like when really horrible news are broken to you and you dissociate and drift into a state of shock. Here's the clip of it, so you may listen for yourself:

It's clear that this is a very subjective portrayal of what Aziraphale is going through during this part of the memory. He's deeply horrified and saddened about the little boy having passed away so early in life – and we hear and feel this shock with him. Through him, because this is his memory. Whatever it is he's feeling and thinking, we're feeling and thinking it too because we're seeing it through his lense.

Another (less sad) hint at a possible exaggeration is the abnormally deep hole Crowley makes the two graveyard watch keepers fall into. I'm pretty sure he's very much in charge of his miracles, making this random slip-up seem a little silly – which is why I'm also pretty sure the "Might have slightly overdone it on that hole" is a wee bit of a meta hint at this just being another one of Aziraphale's dramatic bedazzlements of this story. For the *flings feather boa around neck* drama!

You know what else might be exaggerated? Hm, I dunno, maybe Crowley growing into the size of a tree for no apparent reason. Sure, yes, he's pretty high on Laudanum which is making him a bit loopy. But apart from that, it does seem an awfully big cinematographic euphemism for him being the metaphorical (and, once again, for the drama of it) literal bigger person in this scenario. He's the one who ends up saving Elspeth and who manages to secure a safe life without poverty and grave robbing for her. While Aziraphale was so tangled up in his own moral journey and main character-ism, missing that wee Morag was seconds away from death already, Crowley is the one who actually ends up growing stepping up for the human in need and saving them for good (pun intended).

In a way, it might just be Aziraphale's view of/feelings for Crowley in this very moment. Watching the demon outgrow what, according to Aziraphale's heavenly logic, is supposed to be a foul fiend, bestowing evil upon humanity – and growing into someone who does the exact opposite and saves Elspeth instead. Another larger-than-life character development, in Aziraphale's eyes. Literally.

Let's switch back to the topic of the diary entry one last time, so I can make my final point of the this minisode's unreliable and a smidge over-dramatic narration of Dr. McFell. If you pay close attention, Aziraphale starts the entry we're all getting to experience with: "Last month, Crowley and I both happened to be in Edinburgh." Which means it didn't actually happen on the 10th of November, but rather at some point in October, 1827. Once we see Crowley get hydro-pumped back to Hell after rescuing Elspeth, the minisode ends with, presumably, the last sentence of Aziraphale's diary entry: "And that was the last I would see of Crowley for quite some time."

Take my hand and let's look at where the furniture isn't: This very clearly means that Crowley couldn't have been gone for more than a month, at best. Read again: "It happened last month and that was the last I would see of him for quite some time." This, albeit indirectly, clearly implies that when Aziraphale had sat down to write the diary entry, he had already run into Crowley again. Otherwise his phrasing would have probably been more along the lines of "... and I haven't seen Crowley since" or "... and Crowley has yet to return from wherever it is Hell's currently keeping him".

What's the point I'm trying to make? Good question. I guess my main point of storyteller Aziraphale being a bit over-dramatic in his narration is simply backed up by this, since A Single Month would barely pass as "quite some time" for an immortal being like him. And yet that's how he puts it, in his little Confidential Journals of A.Z. Fell, Vol. 603.

And another point that has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of this meta (but I'm still gonna make it 'cause this is my memory post): The meeting at St. Jame's Park in 1862 that so many, post-S2, took to be their first run-in after the Story of wee Morag, actually wasn't that at all. They saw each other at least once only a month later, as Aziraphale's diary lets us know. Which explains why he wasn't very surprised or concerned when he met Crowley in London, 1862. If there really had been 35 years in between those two events, the first one ending with Crowley being sucked back Downstairs to receive more than three decades worth of hellish punishment, wouldn't Aziraphale have been at least a tiny bit worried or more interested than:

Just saying.

Alright, let's string this inflated hot air balloon of a post back together so we can outline some invisible furniture. This time with only two humble points:

Crowley through Aziraphale's lense Backed up by how we are introduced to Bildad the Shuhite in the Job minisode (suave, cheeky, smart, passionate in shoemaking and obstetrics), it's growing quite clear that Aziraphale's memories and impressions of Crowley are very fond and impressed ones. He sees him as someone who's not only witty, funny and cool, but also as someone who has figured out way sooner and faster than him that nothing's ever black and white. Not God's plans and not the human's choices either.

Aziraphale as a bit of an exaggerating adventure author With the direct parallel we get of inkslinger journalist!Aziraphale in the present day, it's quite apparent after this minisode that Aziraphale's memory is not only deeply influenced by his emotions, but that he also tends to have a bit of a dramatic touch to him. Although, you gotta give it to the guy: A month without seeing the love of your life, even if said life is eternal, can indeed seem like "quite some time".

Well, would you lookie here, we've reached the end of Part 2! What a journey it was. I hope you forgive me for the fact that I drifted off-course a few times. I just can't seem to reel in my silly little observations, even if they've got nothing to do with the point I'm trying to make. But hey, doesn't that just make me a little bit like Aziraphale's storytelling, in a way?

I'll let you be the judge of that.

See you in Part 3! And in case you haven't snuck a peak yet: here's Part 1 again.

Ta!

#good omens #good omens season 2 #gos2 #go2 #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #good omens analysis #aziraphale is a storyteller #but not a very accurate one #story of wee morag #my own meta #aziraphale the Drama Queen #shakespeare who #unreliable but beloved story teller aziraphale

556 notes · View notes

soular-sisters · 9 days

Text

Your Moon Sign & Your Mama: Mother's Day Edition 💐

hi guysss!! happy mothers day to all the beautiful mamas out there. 💗 in honor of mothers day, i did a lil series on how each sign finds deep connection to their mother.

to those who don't know, the moon sign in a person's chart shows not only their emotional & deepest side, but it also shows their relationship with their maternal figure. the moon very simply equals "the mother".

🤱 Aries Moon: “my mother is so strong.”

*having an aries moon means it is likely that you see your mom as a very strong & dominant figure in your life.

*it is likely you’ve always looked up to your mother’s strength, resilience, boss energy, & ability to get through any hardship.

*you may see your mother as being a little too aggressive or domineering at times, but it is important to remember through the hard times, your mother loves you fiercely.

**best ways to connect with your mom: enjoy a passionate debate, go out to do a fun physical activity, stand up for her when she needs you, & remind your mom of her strength through it all.

🤱 Taurus Moon: “my mother is so loyal.”

*with a taurus moon, it is likely that your mom is a very loyal & solid figure in your life.

*your mother is probably loving, practical, grounded, & an amazing provider as a parent.

*you may see your mom's stability & loving qualities to be sustaining to your soul. it is possible your mom may be a bit stubborn & uncompromising at times. regardless, her love for you shows through it all.

**best ways to connect with your mom: cook a yummy meal together, talk about fond family memories, buy her a bouquet of flowers to show your love, & remind her how consistent she’s been in your life.

🤱 Gemini Moon: “my mother is so funny.”

*being a gemini moon, your mom is likely intelligent & filled with silly stories.

*it is likely your mother’s best qualities is her humor, multifaceted personality, her colorful mind, & wonderful anecdotes.

*on the downside, your mom may be a little inconsistent or unreliable at times. but her love for you is there regardless of inconsistencies.

**best ways to connect with your mom: listen to her funny stories, play a fun board game together, watch movies you both love, & remind her how valuable her humorous mind is.

🤱 Cancer Moon: “my mother is so nurturing.”

*as a cancer moon, it is likely your mom has always been a caring & compassionate figure in your life.

*your mom’s best qualities is likely her sweetness, her caregiving nature, her softheartedness, & the overflowing love she’s shown you.

*at the worst of times, your mother may be moody & a bit overemotional. but her love for you has never been in question.

**best ways to connect with your mom: look at family photo albums together, treat yourselves to a nice spa day, gift her a nice piece of jewelry, & remind her what an amazing nurturer she is.

🤱 Leo Moon: “my mother is so passionate.”

*having a leo moon means your mother is likely fierey & outgoing.

*it is likely your mom is a loud, proud, independent, & charismatic mother filled with life.

*at her low points, she may be dramatic & over the top. but no matter how performative she can be, she loves you as passionately as possible.

**best ways to connect with your mom: go watch your favorite theatrical play together, listen to her talk about her latest drama of the moment, take her on a shopping spree, & remind her how beautiful her heart is.

🤱 Virgo Moon: “my mother is so intelligent.”

*with a virgo moon, it is likely your mother is a logical & practical figure in your life.

*your mom’s best qualities are likely her analytical abilities, intelligence, her organizational skills, & her ability to be a smart caregiver for others.

*at times, she may be a little bit of a perfectionist & an overthinker, but no matter what her love for you is without question.

**best ways to connect with your mom: have an intelligent conversation with her, engage in a brain game together, gift her a self-care gift to help her unwind, & remind her of her brilliance.

🤱 Libra Moon: “my mother is so beautiful.”

*as a libra moon, it is likely your mother is someone filled with love & beauty.

*your mother is likely charming, flirtatious, has great taste, & is sociable.

*at her worst, she may be a little superficial or overly friendly, but her loving heart has always loved your dearly.

**best ways to connect with your mom: take her to a lovely social gathering, treat her to get a beauty treatment, compliment her beautiful style, & remind her how gorgeous she is inside and out.

🤱 Scorpio Moon: “my mother is so deep.”

*being a scorpio moon, it is likely you see your mother as a very raw & real figure in your life.

*your mother’s redeeming qualities are likely her honesty, deepness, unbreakable loyalty, & strength through hardship.

*in dark times, your mom may be a little intense & overbearing, but you know with her intensity that her love for you is unshakable.

**best ways to connect with your mom: open up to her about hardships, take her on a private retreat, always be real with her, & remind her how her realness is cherished.

🤱 Sagittarius Moon: “my mother is so fun.”

*with a sagittarius moon, your mother is likely adventurous & a free-spirit.

*your mom’s best qualities is likely her youthful spirit, her taste for fun, her great sense of humor, & her openness to trying new things.

*at low moments, she may be a little out of control or wild to a fault, but her love for her remains in her spirit.

**best ways to connect with your mom: go on a fun adventure with her, try new foods you’ve never had before, embrace her wild spirit, & remind her how precious her adventurous heart is to you.

🤱 Capricorn Moon: “my mother is so hardworking.”

*as a capricorn moon, your mother is most likely a diligent & grounded figure in your life.

*at her best, your mom is probably consistent, determined, ethical, & always working to improve herself.

*in bad moments, your mom may be a person of tough love & little overly concerned with money. no matter the bad, her love for you in unquestionable.

**best ways to connect with your mom: talk to her about self-improvement, take her on a fancy dinner date, ask her about her goals, & remind her how her hard work never goes unnoticed.

🤱Aquarius Moon: “my mother is so unique.”

*being an aquarius moon, your mom is likely an innovative & one of a kind type of mother.

*your mom’s best attributes are likely her independence, her futuristic mind, her unconventional style, & her sharp intelligence.

*her unfavorable moments may be her unchangeableness & being emotionally distant at times. no matter what, her love for you is deep in her heart.

**best ways to connect with your mom: talk with her about new technology, explore new ways to do things, go stargazing, & remind her of how her independence makes her beautiful.

🤱 Pisces Moon: “my mother is so spiritual.”

*as a pisces moon, your mother is likely a kind & empathetic soul.

*your mother’s best features are likely her sensitive heart, her connection to the spiritual realm, her silliness, & her sweet temperament.

*at worst moments, she may be vulnerable to harshness & overwhelmed with emotion. but there is no question she loves you deeply.

**best ways to connect with your mom: talk about the spiritual side of life, share deep spiritual practices together, do a creative activity together, & remind her of how kindhearted she is.

happy mothers day to all who celebrates. 🤍

xoxo -A.A.

IG: my astro instagram 🤍 i would appreciate all your support. thank you so much!

#astrology #zodiac #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #capricorn #aquarius #pisces #moon #moon sign #mothers day #astro

173 notes · View notes

shigarakisslutbag · 1 month

Text

Also I don't trust anyone that thinks shigaraki is an entirely hateful character. Like yes, he's obviously hateful towards a lot of things LOL. But he's shown he cares for those that support him multiple times

He just doesn't show it in the way I think people *expect* him to. But he cares quite a lot. I find it even more endearing that it's clear that he cares for the members of the league without having to say it. We LOVE a king who knows actions speak better than words.

I also really don't think he's incapable of having a partner? A lot of people would say it's out of character (which would be true for earlier seasons maybe?), but I think the reason he doesn't have any feelings like that for people is

1.) he had no idea of what a good relationship looked like growing up. he was 5 when everything happened. And even if he didn't accidentally kill his family?? His dad was abusive and emotionally unavailable. If he had led a "normal" life, it would've been incredibly hard to unlearn what he was taught love was. I think his mom would've been the only reason, if she were alive, that he would know what love and connection felt like, had they not died.

2.) no one (to my knowledge. I haven't read the manga), has really complimented him. Told him he was pretty. Said they were proud. Even if someone did compliment him looks wise, no one has pointed out good qualities he has (at least up until the league regarding positive traits he has (personality, leadership qualities, intelligence). And even then, one of the first things he heard from dabi was an insult to his face. I love dabi but that still makes my eye twitch 🙃)

I'm not saying praise, validation, or compliments would fix everything. But ohmygod. If someone would just be genuine and tell him that they believe and support his successes, or listen and talk to him like a human, it'd probably send him into a different, slightly healthier mindset.

One reason I absolutely love the friendship/relationship between spinner and shigaraki. He just needs some verbal support and someone who listens (me too LOL). He deserves so much idc. No just spinner either.

I'm a shigaraki supporter first, and a human second🙂‍↕️. Also I do apologize if some of my I formation doesn't seem very correct, it's been a while since I've watched it, and I do not read the manga 🥲. Even if some of my facts don't stand though, I am a very firm believer that with more attention or someone completely loyal, would make him happy. I mean it was pretty much proved he loved attention and wanted supporters more than anything in season 2(?) I think. Anyways, I love my boy. If shigaraki has no supporters, I'm deceased LMAO

#my nonsense and rambles #stuff #my stuff #tomura shigaraki #shimura tenko #shigaraki tomura #tenkoshimura #tomurashigaraki #tenko shimura #shigaraki #shigaraki simp

272 notes · View notes

redmyeyes · 5 months

Text

Fellow Travelers Timeline

(as comprehensive as i can make it. corrections/additions welcome)

1919-20 (?) - Hawk is born

based on tennis trophy which shows year 1936, and hawk's statement that he and kenny were on the tennis team in 11th grade (16/17 years old).

also date on the paperweight (1937) that hawk says kenny picked out on their senior trip. spring or fall though? if spring (usual for a senior trip, just before graduation), it would mean hawk graduated HS in 1937, b. 1919. (thanks, @lestatscunt!)

June 6, 1930 - Tim is born, on Staten Island, NY

birthdate/place shown on army application in ep 5

Gemini, with moon in Libra

>>> With a Gemini Sun Libra Moon, emotional equilibrium is hard for you to maintain in a world of constant flux and tension. Since you are not responsible for the woes and upsets of those around you, you should not feel so duty-bound to assuage their wounds or mediate every conflict that happens to come your way.

>>> your natural diplomacy, extraordinary perception and insight can all be applied creatively in such fields as politics, social work, and the mass media.

>>> your extreme open-mindedness would probably enable you to almost any life-style. You have a universal quality about you that transcends culture, religion, ideology, or any other barrier that divides mankind.

Fall 1937 - Spring 1941 - Hawk attends "Penn", presumably the University of Pennsylvania. (assuming hawk b. 1919)

(this is very very long, the rest is under the cut)

December 7, 1941 - bombing of Pearl Harbor, US enters WWII

??? - Hawk joins the army (along with Kenny), and is sent to Europe.

January 9 – August 15, 1945 - Battle of Luzon, where Kenny dies.

September 2, 1945 - Japan surrenders, US exits WWII

February, 1949 - Hawk starts working at the State Department

Hawk says in 1x04 (Dec 1953) that he's been working at the State Dept for "four years and ten months".

"I came out of the war with four assets: degree from Penn, a hero's war record, no particular political ideology, and a passing acquaintance with three languages. Throw in a talent for prevaricating and a taste for travel and fine clothes, you have the makings of a competent, mid-level Foreign Service bureaucrat."

Fall 1948 - Spring 1952 - Tim attends Fordham University, graduating with a degree in political science and history.

1951 - Hawk starts work for the Bureau of Congressional Relations

Tim mentions Hawk's been working there for two years during their meeting on the bench.

1952 - Tim works "the New York campaign" (presumably for Eisenhower).

1952/3? - Tim interns for three months at the Star, in the mailroom.

November 4, 1952 - Election Night, Eisenhower (R) wins the presidency. Tim/Hawk first meet and are instantly smitten. (ep 1)

February 16, 1953 to March 10, 1954 - McCarthy Hearings, part 1.

The first consisted of a series of hearings conducted by McCarthy, as the subcommittee’s chairman, throughout 1953 and early 1954 in which McCarthy alleged Communist influence within the press and the federal government, including the State Department, the U.S. Army, and the Government Printing Office.

March 5, 1953 - Stalin dies.

Late March, 1953 - Hawk/Tim second meeting

After Hawk meets Tim at the park bench, he attends a hearing where Marcus says Cohn has brought David Schine on, and then later at their lunch Senator Smith says, "McCarthy is sending Cohn and his sidekick to Europe..." This article, dated April 19, says that Cohn and Schine have been in Europe for two weeks.

Hawk mentions that it's near the end of the month, police need to make their quotas.

April 27, 1953 - Executive Order 10450 signed. Hawk goes to Tim's apartment and tells him about Kenny. (ep 1)

June 6, 1953 - Tim's 23rd birthday (Hawk 'misses' it because they weren't talking for 4 weeks. belated celebration in ep 3.)

June 15, 1953 (?) - date of the newspaper Tim is reading just before he goes to visit Hawk in ep 2, where Hawk makes him write the letter to Mary. I'm choosing to believe this is a mistake on the show's part, because this would mean that Hawk has already missed Tim's birthday.

June 19, 1953 - Julius and Ethel Rosenberg's execution. Hawk comforts Lucy about this at the end of ep 2. So, likely Hawk and Tim had their big fight very shortly before Tim's birthday, and weren't talking from end of May - end of June.

End of June, 1953 - at the end of ep 2, Tim says it's been 4 months since his last confession, making his last (proper) confession the end of Feb or beginning of March. (ie, before he meets Hawk again).

End of June or beginning of July, 1953 - weekend trip to Rehoboth Beach (ep 3)

November 1953 - G. David Schine drafted into the army (ep 3)

Christmas 1953 (ep 4)

March 16 to June 17, 1954 - Army-McCarthy Hearings (part 2) (ep 5)

The second phase involved the subcommittee's investigation of McCarthy’s attacks on the U.S. Army. Known as the “Army-McCarthy hearings,” they were broadcast on national television and they contributed to McCarthy’s declining national popularity. Five months later, on December 2, 1954, the Senate censured McCarthy.

June 6, 1954 - Tim's 24th birthday

June, 1954? - Tim/Hawk break up, Hawk proposes to Lucy (ep 5)

I believe this happens at the tail-end of the Army-McCarthy hearings, so before June 17th.

Fall, 1954 - Sen. Smith's funeral

based solely on fall foliage in this screenshot:

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Tim enlists in the army

based on army application: birthdate 6/6/30, age: 24 years, 6 months

Late Nov / Early Dec, 1954 - Hawk/Tim last meeting in the tower

based on the radio program Tim is listening to, which says, "Chief Counsel Roy Cohn has resigned from the committee. And Senator McCarthy, his approval ratings plummeting, faces censure or even expulsion from the Senate."

Tim leaves for Fort Dix, for training, but is later stationed at Fort Polk, in Vernon Parish, LA. (thanks, @jesterlesbian!)

December 2, 1954 - the Senate censures McCarthy.

Summer or Fall 1956? - Tim's letter (that lucy burns) (ep 6)

Flashbacks, for context:

"Since he's giving up his apartment, Hawk insists on having a lair in the woods." // "I'm surprised that he finally agreed."

Lucy lets contractor go. // "Give me a baby."

Hawk is reading the Bristol Daily Courier, a paper located in Bristol, PA, a town in Bucks County, outside Philadelphia. I can't find any info on the one headline I can read though ("Heath Carlson breaks arws deadlock, locals proud"), so can't date this properly.

Lucy cleaning out Hawk's apartment, finds paperweight, sees Tim drop off letter.

"I went into the Army to get away from you. I thought time and distance would help. But it hasn't." If Tim sends the letter in summer 1956, it's been a year and a half since he enlisted.

Biggest question here: did lucy ask for a baby before or after she read Tim's letter??? the flashbacks don't answer this definitively.

October, 1956? - Lucy becomes pregnant with Jackson (see note under April 1957)

October 23 – November 4, 1956 - Hungarian Revolution of 1956

October 23, 1956 - April 30, 1957 - Hungarian Refugee Crisis

November 8, 1956 - Operation Safe Haven commences

President Eisenhower declared that 5,000 Hungarians would be awarded visa numbers remaining under the 1953 Refugee Relief Act

Spring 1957? - Tim sends telegram. It looks like 05-??-???? to me, which doesn't really make sense if McCarthy died on May 2nd, but it's hard to make out. or maybe telegrams used the date format dd-mm-yyyy.

April 1957? - Tim/Hawk first meeting, Lucy at least 5 (or 6? or 7?) months pregnant

You should feel your baby's first movements, called "quickening," between weeks 16 and 25 of your pregnancy. If this is your first pregnancy, you may not feel your baby move until closer to 25 weeks.

25 weeks ~= 6 months, and it still seems novel to her, so let's say she's approx. 6 months pregnant here.

May 2, 1957 - Joe McCarthy dies.

May 6, 1957 - McCarthy's funeral. Tim's first visit to Hawk's apartment (ep 8)

June 6, 1957 - Tim turns 27.

June or July, 1957 - Jackson born (based on dates above)

1958? - Kimberly is born. (estimated bc she looks the same age or older than Jackson, so assuming she's a year younger at most.)

August, 1965 - President Johnson signs a law making it a federal crime to destroy or mutilate [draft] cards.

October 15, 1965 -David Miller publicly burns his draft card, becoming the first person to be prosecuted under that law and a symbol of the growing movement against the war.

May 17, 1968 - the Catonsville Nine took 378 draft files from the draft board office in Catonsville, Maryland and burned them in the parking lot. (inspo for Tim & co. thanks @brokendrums!)

November 1968 - ep 6. Hawk is 48, Tim is 38, Jackson is 11.

based on this newspaper screenshot when Hawk is talking to Marcus on the phone about Tim

November 1968 - May 1970 (earliest) - Tim in prison. (he says in ep 7 he was in prison for a year and a half. this assumes he went to prison right away, but it could have been several months later if he was awaiting trial/sentencing.)

1970? - After prison, Tim moves to San Francisco and gets his counseling degree.

Mid-late 1970s - Tim earns his C-SWCM qualifications, requiring:

A Bachelor’s degree in social work from a graduate program accredited by the Council on Social Work Education

Documentation of at least three (3) years and 4,500 hours of paid, supervised, post-BSW professional experience in an organization or agency that provides case management services

Current state BSW-level license or an ASWB BSW-level exam passing score.

nb. because Tim already had his bachelors (from Fordham, majoring in history), I could see him entering a much-accelerated BSW program, transfering a lot of credits from his previous degree. That would give him maybe 2 more years of university, plus the required 3 years of post-BSW work = 5 years minimum before he earns that business card.

February 4, 1977 - Fleetwood Mac's album Rumours is released, including the 1970s Tim/Hawk anthem, Go Your Own Way

October, 1978 - Jackson dies

November 27, 1978 - Harvey Milk assassinated

May 22, 1979 - Harvey's 49th birthday (celebrated in ep 7)

1986 - ep 8

how long was Hawk in San Francisco? Timelines for the events below may be fudged in the show, bc I doubt he was there for 5 months.

March, 1986 - Roy Cohn's 60 Minutes interview, which the gang watches in ep 4.

April 15, 1986 - US bombs Libya. in the first episode you can hear reference to this on the radio, before Hawk leaves for San Francisco. (thanks @aliceinhorrorland93!)

July 27, 1986 - In California, Gov. George Deukmejian vetoes a bill that would have defined AIDS as a physical handicap calling for entitlement to protection under the state's civil rights laws.

August 2, 1986 - Roy Cohn dies (ep 8)

Late 1986? - the fundraising gala that Tim crashes, shortly after Cohn's death.

September 1986 - The State Legislature has passed another bill [in addition to the one vetoed on July 27]. Mr. Deukmejian, a Republican running for re-election, has indicated that he will probably veto the bill. (nb, this is likely the bill that Tim & co want to pressure the governor to sign).

October 11, 1987 - AIDS memorial quilt first displayed (ep 8)

this was a collaborative effort! many thanks to @ishipallthings for many of these details, as well as @startagainbuttercup , @alorchik, @itsalinh and others in the FT discord!

#fellow travelers #timeline #reference #i made this as comprehensive as i could but i would LOVE feedback/corrections #esp re: anything in 1956-1957 era #jackson's birth? and the date of that letter???

279 notes · View notes