#idk if i can call it poem either
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its kinda far away from what i expected it to turn out, strayed a bit in the middle, but its here once again. as always, sorry for the lack of cut, mobile tumblr isnt that fancy. enjoy.
⚠️cw: few mentions of blood, nothing too explicit; maybe some emotional neglect? not much though. much lighter than my last poem. still have some grammar mistakes, but theyre there on purpose, i refuse to write I'm instead or im.
i had a normal childhood, you know.
used to be that one kid that get an A and stay sad for an entire week that it wasnt an A+. used books to escape from reality since i read my first letter, so the first time i read romeo and juliet, i was 5 years old. it was an old copy with some eldritch language that i couldnt quite grasp at the time, too many details passed unnoticed.
but besides the introversion and shyness that appeared out of the blue when i turned 4, it was pretty common. my parents never laid a finger in me, nor threatened to do so.
how i wish they had.
of course, i never gave them reasons to do so, but many do it without reason, let alone a good one, so sometimes i wonder what would have happened if i wasnt too tame.
if i had questioned more. had complained more. screamed and cried and asked for more. i wonder how long would it be before they had lost their temper.
pretty long, thats for sure. they were always so controlled.
i guess, thats the entire point now. the stoicism to which i was exposed since birth couldnt make much good for a child. never experiencing the bad sides means the good sides were, too, hidden; never being hit also means that i never felt desired.
see, i did feel loved sometimes. when my mom brushed my hair before school. when my dad would let me mess with his hair while he was watching the news. when theyd both hold my hands when we were walking to the market to buy some bread for dinner.
but there was a time where it all would come to an end. i couldnt feel desired when mom decided she was done brushing my hair, and i had to decide between learn how to take care of it or cut it at the age of 6. and i certainly didnt feel desired when my dad wouldnt lift and carry me anymore at the age of 8. (he couldnt for health reasons, but of course my 8 years old self could never compreehend it).
now im 19 years old. since i was 14, ive been craving something, but could never get close enough to see what it was - or i was too aware of it, and therefore too scared of not being able to hide that side of mine. i took out the blanket that hid it, some time ago, and came to the conclusion that i crave suffering.
not the emotional kind, that i have a lot. you cant go unharmed from "gifted child, parents pride and joy" to "burnt out queer young adult".
i crave the physical counterpart of it. i crave a reason, a good one, something that justifies the intense unhappyness, this indifference and apathy thats always creeping around the corners, hiding in plain sight.
i crave broken arms and black eyes, i crave bruises and crooked noses and raw knuckles. i crave a few broken teeth and a blood-red stained record in school, with a few too many fights and a few too little good grades.
i crave the disappointment and the freedom it brings when no one expects nothing else from you.
i crave intenseness and adrenaline. i crave jumpscares and fist fights, and damn right, i crave pain.
hope you liked it, all feedback is welcome, please like and reblog if you enjoyed, makes a lot of difference for the artist. tell me if i forgot some kind or trigger/content warning or tag, im kinda new to this.
-> you can request a story, if you have something in your head that you think its too weird to ask other authors, i love weirdness and will write for anyone and anything that i can read about so. pretty much every existent character :) thats it for today bye
#jack is writing#poetry#can i call it poetry?#poem#idk if i can call it poem either#queer artist#my writing#childhood#venting#cravings
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Hi! I love your works! I saw your request are open, so I was wondering if I could ask how would Spencer react to the reader fainting into his arms?
I love this request so much. As a POTSie, this is really close to my heart - and idk if this was your intention or not, but I decided to make it that the reader has POTS.
Requests are OPEN
How would Spencer Reid react to you fainting around him?
Warnings: Reader's gender is not described - reader is gender neutral; the reader's looks are not really described either; the reader faints due to a pre-existing medical condition; the reader is mentioned to have POTS; this is Spencer during his Professor era; the reader is also a Professor at the University that Spencer teaches at; this fic uses Y/N and L/N (as in Last Name); the reader loses consciousness completely and Spencer attends to them to make sure they are okay; some light fluff/romance; I think that's it? Not really proofread. This could be described as hurt/comfort (I found it very comforting to write) - even if you aren't chronically ill, I encourage you to read and enjoy!!!
...
Spencer didn’t really know you.
Since he had started teaching at the university, he had seen you around many times, and a face like yours - someone as gorgeous as you definitely stuck out in his mind. But he had never formally introduced himself. He could have used the excuse that he was busy preparing his lectures, and racing back and forth to the BAU between those lectures. But even if he hadn't spoken to you, he had been admiring you from afar for a long time.
That was why, when he found a notebook that belonged to you sitting on one of the benches on the quad, he didn’t hesitate to bring it to your office. It needed to be returned to its rightful owner, and that owner was someone he had been secretly admiring for some time now. It was the perfect excuse to introduce himself to you. He thought that sitting on the notebook when he went outside to take his morning coffee break could be considered fate. Especially when he flipped open the cover, looking for some sign of who it belonged to, and he saw your name written on it.
(Did he also flip through the rest of the pages, seeing the poems you had written, along with some beautiful sketches of birds and stills of flowers, and felt his stomach stir even more, realizing that he was falling for you before even talking to you? Maybe. He would have denied it, though.)
He knocked on your door late, on his way out for the day, hoping that you were still there, and he was surprised to find the hinge creaking open underneath his fist.
“Hello?” He called out. “Professor L/N?”
“Oh, come in!” You called back.
Spencer walked in and found the room to be a mess of papers - many open file boxes scattered about the room, with papers scattered everywhere in an utter hurricane of paper.
You were focused on the file box in front of you, a frown knit across your brows as you flipped through them one by one, clearly intently looking for something.
“I’m sorry.” Spencer apologized. “Is this a bad time?”
“Oh, uh-” You finally looked up from your searching, and when you locked eyes with Spencer, you were surprised to find a doe-eyed, curly-haired, incredibly attractive man standing in the middle of your messy office. “I’m sorry. I- you’re that FBI guy, right? Reid?”
You ignored his question in favor of being introduced to him properly - you had heard his name from the mouths of other people; gossip from your colleagues about how a real FBI profiler would be teaching a class about the psychology of serial killers and profiling.
“Yes.” Spencer nodded. “I’m Doctor Spencer Reid. But you can call me Spencer, if you prefer.”
“Spencer.” You repeated back, grinning at him. “I’m Professor L/N, as you said. But you can call me Y/N.”
“Well, Y/N, I just came to return this.” Spencer explained, reaching into his bag and pulling out your notebook.
Your eyes instantly lit up at the sight of it.
“Oh my gosh.” You gasped quietly. “Thank you so much.” You took it back, giving him a grateful smile. “I don’t even know where my head is today, I-”
Spencer gave a small grin as he followed your gaze around the mess you had created in your office.
“I know this looks chaotic, but…” You looked for an excuse. “A student asked me for a copy of an essay they wrote a few years ago as a reference for their thesis. And I thought I had everything well organized. But - apparently my head is just not on very straight.”
The forgetfulness, and your inability to go through the files in an efficient way - the lack of focus, it was only compounded by your pre-existing condition. Which was only made worse by the fact that you had forgotten to eat lunch, and it was well past dinner time now.
“Oh, that’s completely understandable.” Spencer chuckled. “I can help you look through some of these if you want?”
Your hands were shaking as you grasped the notebook and as Spencer became blurry in your vision - you thought about going to sit down in your office chair for a break after it was too late.
“Y/N?”
He became worried when you didn’t respond, when the expression on your face became more distant and he noticed your lips paling from a healthy color.
In the next moment, you were falling.
Spencer rushed to catch you, his instincts kicking in - everything in his body screaming that he needed to keep you from hitting the floor, that he needed to keep you safe. One of his hands cradled the back of your head, and the other arm wrapped around the middle of your back - he was surprised by how heavy your body felt when you were purely dead weight, your body entirely limp as you went completely unconscious, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in a scary way.
He knelt down slowly, taking you down to the floor in the most gentle way possible, not wanting to drop you accidentally and have you hit your head because of his incompetence. The more the seconds ticked on and your eyelids stayed limp, your lips almost purple and your mouth gaped - the more his own heart thumped in his chest with intense fear.
“Hey, hey, come on.” He continued to cradle your head with one hand, but now that you were mostly resting on the floor, he moved his other arm from your back to gently rub across your cheek - hoping to rouse you back to consciousness. “Come on, stay with me. Y/N. Wake up. Please?”
He gently tapped your cheek, no where close to slapping you - but hoping to stimulate your nervous system with touch in some way.
A huge breath of relief sucked through his chest when your eyelids started flickering and your eyes began moving around, clearly searching for something in the room as you regained consciousness. You let out a moan, trying to form words, and Spencer put a gentle hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you.
“Hey, shh, it’s okay. Just relax.” He told you, trying to keep his voice calm - trying not to betray any of the anxiety that he was truly feeling.
His first instinct was to call an ambulance - obviously you needed medical attention. What had happened to you? What if it was something serious?
And while he was patting down his pockets for his phone, you let out another moan and lifted one of your limp arms, drawing his attention to the jingle of a medical alert bracelet on your arm.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and moved to grab the pendant on the bracelet, reading it carefully.
Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome
There was an emergency number listed, but it wasn’t 9-1-1 - Spencer had to guess that it was a family member of yours, or a doctor. So he had to guess that calling an ambulance wasn’t the thing to do. The condition sounded familiar to him - he read medical journals on occasion because he found them to be mentally engaging, and - because of occasions like this; if he could use the information to help someone.
He remembered that it was a condition in which the autonomic nervous system fails to regulate blood flow, resulting in fainting when too much blood pools in the legs. So elevating the legs can help a person with the condition regain consciousness easier.
Spencer hated to rest your head on the hardness of the floor, but he rushed to take off his blazer, and folded it up to put it underneath your head as a makeshift pillow, and then he looked around frantically - and the only good thing he could find were the file boxes. He stacked a few of them and brought them closer, and then situated your legs so they were elevated up on top of the boxes, above your prone body.
He took your hand and held it - again, simply out of instinct. Wanting you to know that he was there with you while you lingered on the edge of consciousness. But with his helpful first aid, it wasn’t long then - only a minute or two - before your eyes blinked open more confidently and you tried to sit up.
“Hey, take it easy.” Spencer implored, pushing you gently to lay back down. “Just rest for a few minutes, okay?”
Usually - you would have rushed to become upright again, even if it was against medical advice. But something about Spencer’s presence was gentle and soothing, and you found yourself actually listening to him.
“Sorry,” You muttered out, the word practically turning into a slur on your lips - your face tingling and numb as the blood slowly migrated back to your head. “I - I didn’t mean to s-scare you.”
“You did scare me a little bit.” Spencer chuckled. “Hopefully next time I see you, you don’t end up on the floor.”
“Well, my condition gets b-better when I eat s-salty foods.” You remarked, telling him the truth about the medical advice you had been given, feeling bold to let this roll into a flirty opportunity. “Maybe you could t-take me to dinner-r next time?”
Spencer grinned down at you, and let out a light laugh.
“Sounds like a date.”
...
A/N: I have to say that this was so comforting for me to write. The amount of times in my life that I have fainted and been terrified, or I have been berated by the people around me for ‘faking’ it when I was feeling incredibly ill and barely conscious. If I fainted and I woke up to Spencer holding my hand and treating me so well like this - I would feel so relaxed and comforted. This was so amazing for me to write, and did help to heal a small fraction in the huge lifetime of medical trauma that I have.
Criminal Minds Masterlist
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid
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haiku misinformation: a fact check
there's an post going around about haiku that has a lot of incorrect information about haiku, its terminology, history, etc. I will try to debunk some of the biggest inaccuracies here. everything in quotes is a direct statement from the original post. this is also really, really long.
"Haiku are made of 14 on, which are essentially the equivalent to Japanese syllabic structures, except the nature of how Japanese as a language is constructed versus English means that any given proper haiku could be translated in extremely and intensely different ways, each giving a subtle but distinctly different meaning."
Starting off strong - haiku are (usually) made of 17 on. It's the classic 5-7-5 pattern! 5+7+5=17! [possibly this is a mix-up with wakiku (脇(わき)句(く)) which is another type of Japanese poetry that does use 14 on but who knows.]
Definitions: an on is a phonetic unit, the equivalent to a mora (pl. morae) in English. this concept a) exists in English and b) like on, is related to syllables but distinctly different from them (i.e. ba is one mora but baa with a long vowel is two morae). On can be counted using the number of hiragana (phonetic syllabic characters) when the text is transliterated, so a word like Osaka that has the long O sound (made up of 4 kana) would be 4 morae or 4 on (o-o-sa-ka; おおさか). it's not really a syllabic structure at all, and more importantly has nothing to do with translation. idk where that last part comes from because that's really...not the point here. Yes, any given "proper" haiku could be translated in different ways with a subtle but distinctly different meaning but that's true of just...translation, period. check out Deborah Smith's translation of The Vegetarian by Han Kang for more on that.
Furthermore, haiku were/are not rigidly locked into the 5-7-5 on pattern. That's just not true, which is why I said usually above. Easy example: a 1676 haiku by Matsuo Basho that uses 18-on:
冨士の風や 扇にのせて 江戸土産; ふじのかぜや おうぎにのせて えどみやげ; the wind of Fuji /I've brought on my fan/a gift from Edo <- that first line is 6-on!
2. "The best way I can explain what I mean is that in English a good poem can be defined as a shallow river, whereas a good haiku is a deeply-dug well."
Not dignifying this with a response. Deeply incorrect and untrue. @bill-blake-fans-anonymous can handle this assertion.
3. "The presence of the kigu. There is a specific series of characters/words which are used to imply a season, and specifically a specific aspect of a season which the haiku revolves around. The creation of a haiku is often done as a meditative practice revolving around the kigu--you're essentially contemplating on this particular natural feature (nearly always the temporal aspect emphasizes either ephemerality or the opposite as well bc Buddhist ideas of enlightenment and beauty begin coming into play) and building an evocative and purposeful point that revolves around it like a hinge. It functions as both ground and anchor."
First (and largest) problem: the word. is. kigo. kigo. It's ki (季; season)-go (語; word) = 季語. Both the English and Japanese language Wikipedia, or a 3-second google search, will tell you this immediately. I have no idea where the term kigu comes from.
Second problem: plenty of haiku, both traditional and contemporary, do not use kigo. these are described as muki (無季; seasonless). Matsuo Basho, the haiku-writing poet non-Japanese people are most likely to know, wrote at least ten seasonless haiku that exist today. Masaoka Shiki, the Meiji-era haiku poet and reformist, wrote hundreds of kigo-free haiku and as an agnostic, tried to separate haiku from Buddhism and focus more on the shasei, the sketches from daily life. you can actually, today, buy what are called saijiki, which are lists of words and terms that refer to specific seasons (in the traditional Japanese calendar, so there are actually a lot of "micro" seasons as well). some saijiki include a whole section of "seasonles" words - here's an article about non-season kigo in a saijiki.
so the claim that English-language haiku are invalid or not "real" haiku because they lack a kigo doesn't hold up, unless you invalidate a whole bunch of Japanese haiku as well. the op also claimed they would categorize a lot of English "haiku" as senryū which is...an opinion. Yes, haiku tend to be focused around nature (more on that below) and senryū tend to be more comedic or about human foibles but...that's it! it's a tendency! it's not a hard and fast rule!
Third problem: the claim that a haiku is as meditative practice revolving around the kigu kigo...yeah, no. the earlier form of haiku, the hokku, were the introductory poems of the longer poetic form, the renga and the hokku gradually became a standalone poetic form known as haiku. the hokku had a lot of purposes and we have a historical record of them going back ~1000 years to Emperor Juntoku where they were declamatory poems tied to events (births, deaths, etc.) or social events (moon-viewing parties) - not really meditative. haiku, if a genre can focus on a single idea, focus on an experience and that can be real or imaginary, direct and personal or neither.
Here's another Basho poem for your consideration:
夏草や 兵どもが 夢の跡 (natsukusa ya tsuwamonodomo ga yume no ato; summer grasses--/traces of dreams/of ancient warriors)
both the dreams and the grasses are those of Basho (contemporary) and of the warriors (ancient); it's about travel, it's about connecting the present to the ancient past, it's not really so much about the summer.
(Fourth, minor problem that I'm not really going to get into: you'd have to take this 'Buddhist ideas of enlightenment and beauty' up with haiku scholar Haruo Shirane but he explicitly says in the Routledge Global Haiku Reader (2024) that "pioneers of English-language haiku [such as D.T. Suzuki, Alan Watts, and the Beats] mistakenly emphasized Zen Buddhism in Japanese haiku".....so.)
4. "The presence of the kireji...it's a concept borderline absent from English because it's an intersection of linguistics and philosophy that doesn't really exist outside of the context of Japanese."
Let's begin with clarification. What is kireji (lit. a 'cutting word')? It's a class of terms in Japanese poetry that can do a few things, depending on the specific kireji and its place in the poem. In the middle of the poem, it can mark a thematic break, a cut in the stream of thought highlighting the parallel(s) between the preceding and following phrases. At the end of the poem, it provides a sense of ending and closure - it helps mark rhythmic division, to say the least, and it is seen as the 'pivot' word.
Two problems with claims above:
a. there are haiku that do not use kireji. For the hat trick, here's a Matsuo Basho haiku from 1689 AD that is kireji-free:
初しぐれ猿も小蓑をほしげ也 (hatsu shigure saru mo komino wo hoshige nari; the first cold shower/even the monkey seems to want/a little coat of straw) <- NB: I love this haiku so much
b. the idea of a kireji, as in a pivot word that provides an inflection point with rhythmic division and structure, exist not just in English poetry but in multiple different types of poetry across time and space! The caesura in Latin and Ancient Greek! The volta in sonnets! Whatever is happening in the third line of the Korean sijo!
final thoughts:
the op included language, which I won't quote here because it was messy and tied into other rbs, about Orientalism and appropriation in English-language haiku, which is definitely a real thing. but this blanket statement ignores that the relationship between haiku and "the West", much like Japan and "the West", was and is not a one-way street. Western writers were influenced by haiku and, in turn, those writers influenced Japanese writers who wrote haiku inspired by these influences - this process has been going on for well over a century. Furthermore, English and Japanese are not the only languages in which haiku are written! Nobel Prize winner Rabindranath Tagore was writing haiku in Bengali; other Indian poets were and are writing them in Gujrati and Malayalam, particularly by the poet Ashitha. the Pakistani poet Omer Tarin has written haiku about Hiroshima! The Spanish poet Lorca published haiku in, get this, Spanish, in 1921 and the Mexican poet José Juan Tablada published more in 1922! Italian translations of Yosano Akiko were published in 1919! any discussion of the idea that English/non-Japanese-language haiku aren't really haiku because they don't hold to the "rules" (which Japanese authors have been revising, adapting, critiquing, and/or straight up flouting for centuries) or because English/non-Japanese poetry is "a shallow river whereas a good haiku is a deeply-dug well" just shows a lack of knowledge around traditions and depths of...well, poetry itself.
my god this is so long.
in summary: this is a complex topic. If anyone would like some actual information about haiku, its history, common themes and forms, or a collection of good poets, the Routledge Global Haiku Reader (2024) and Haiku Before Haiku : From the Renga Masters to Basho (2011) are great references and really accessible in their language! hmu if you're interested and I can send you some pdfs.
#'99% of all haiku written in English might at best be called a senryu' is QUITE a take#the idea that kireji is a uniquely mysteriously super special Japanese term that has no equivalent and could never be understood. hm.#where have I heard that line of thinking before.....#haiku#Japan#long post
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hii idk if u are taking request (if you're not ignore this lmao) but could you write some todd anderson fluff? my sister moved away and im feeling kinda sad :( idk if you write for todd either lol anyways love ur account!!
1:05
pairing: todd anderson x reader
summary: a silly little game of tickle fight with todd.
word count: 1.1k
a/n: ofc! <3 i was supposed to keep this short but i'm an absolute sucker for fluff so i went a little overboard hhfhhfhefdfr i hope u like it!
masterlist
it was starting to get repetitive. the few episodes you watched earlier were somewhat more entertaining, or shall you say as entertaining as watching a lawyer defend their client gets. there were moments where it really got you and todd riled up, but after that it'll just be another line of the guy on screen describing to you what a public defender is.
'the court is adjourned!' the voice of the guy on screen shouted as he banged his gavel on the wooden sound block, signalling that the aired episode was over.
"i'm starting to get sick of this bart matthew guy's face. how long have we been watching?" you asked, leaning your head further into todd's body until it was on his lap.
"i think it we started at season 1, we've been at it for a while." todd said as he reached for the remote controller, "do you want me to switch the channel, love?"
"okay, maybe that show my mom watches is on. the eve garden something?" you sat up and pondered with a hand on your chin.
"it's eve arden, i've seen bits of it a few times."
you hastily laid back down and yawned as you shook your head in understanding, moving on your side to watch todd fiddle with the remote controller in search for a good show. sunday afternoons were usually like this, rather than going out and doing activities that would require human interaction, todd would instead show up at your front door to spend time with you, saving you both the time and effort of socialising─ which you knew todd preferred. for the next few hours, you'd both be huddled in bed or on the couch in each other's arms, reading each other silly poems and stories you'd make up, or watch tv until the sun goes down. to some it might be boring, yes, but nothing's boring when it's with todd.
"hey todd?"
he hummed as he moved his focus away from the television and onto you, who was staring up at him with an all too familiar look on your face. you were about to crack a bad joke.
"what is it called-"
"please make it a good joke this time."
"it is! i guarantee you that you'll laugh your knickers off!"
he once again hummed as he raised his eyebrows with a skeptical look, he knew the joke would be so stupid that it wasn't the joke he's laughing at─ but the sheer stupidity of it is what makes him snicker. he let's it slide though, since he gets to see that bright smile of yours every time.
"alright so, what is it called when the doctor has to tickle you to see if you're conscious?"
todd shook his head, he has no idea what it could be. it could be anything! "i don't know, what?"
"a test tickle." you let out an obnoxious laugh with a slap to the knee as you cackled at your own joke. he on the other hand can't help but wonder where do you get all these jokes from?
"that was a bad joke."
"no it's not! i made you laugh, you're laughing right now!"
"you can hardly consider this laughing!"
an idea came to your mind as soon as the words left your lover's mouth. his face contorted in worry when he saw you move back a little on your side of the couch, and you had this... mischievous expression on. you were up to something.
"hmm... it wouldn't be laughing if i did this then?" you suddenly jumped onto him and started tickling his sides, earning yourself a loud snort from todd.
"w-wait- this isn't- this isn't fair!" his face was turning red with how hard he was laughing. you weren't prepared though when abruptly he flipped you on your back, effectively halting you of your attack and giving you a taste of your own medicine.
the only thing that could be heard in your living room was the sound of you and todd cackling like maniacs. to the people outside your house, they could've easily mistaken it as two children playing. in the middle of your tickle-fighting, todd tried to escape from your unforgiving grasp and tried to make a run from it. you attempted grabbing onto his torso to prevent him from leaving your clutches, but instead of successfully being able to pull him back─ you instead got a hold of his pajamas that he was wearing that day and pulled down. accidentally revealing what was he was wearing that day. in your terms he technically he did laugh his underwear off, except it was his pants.
"h-hey you can't do that!" todd stuttered as his laughed grew even louder. he scrambled to pull his pants back up and almost fell over in the process. your stomach was starting to hurt, and your eyes were welling with tears as you caught a glimpse of his boxers, he had the superman ones that you gave him as joke on his birthday on.
after he got a good distance between the two of you, and after he successfully pulled his pajamas back up, he calmed down to catch his breath which was ragged from all the laughing. you, who was on the couch, were lying on your stomach, you hushed snickers muffled by the couch as you watched him. the memory of his boxers that were now covered by his pants still lingering in your mind.
to control your own breathing, since you were also out of breath, you momentarily closed your eyes with a tired smile on. you forgot how draining tickle fights were. "i must say, what manly boxers you have, mr. anderson."
unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend was slowly creeping his way behind the couch on his tippy toes. it looks like the war wasn't over. when you didn't hear from him, you lifted your head up to check if he was still where you last saw him before you closed your eyes.
"todd?-"
suddenly, you felt something very heavy being pressed onto your entire body─ causing you to shriek in surprise. it was todd. he was laying on top of you with his arms wrapping your body, like he was giving you a bear hug. in that position, he could easily tickle both of your sides. making him the winner of today's tickle fight. and tickle you he did.
"t-todd- i-" you were being cut off by your own uncontrollable laughter, squirming and writhing in his embrace. "you win! you win!"
he instantly let go of you, his lips curled into a huge victorious grin as he sat there, towering over you triumphantly. his hair was all ruffled and he still looked like he just finished running a marathon. you smiled him, your entirety overflowing with happiness, and he shyly smiled back in return before cheering in a hushed manner and whisper shouting like he was an announcer on the sports channel.
"and the crowd goes wild! todd anderson takes home the trophy for today's match!"
you giggled and swiftly wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him down and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
“i will have my revenge, you!”
© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.
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Now it's your turn :))
orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?
cactus ⇢ something you’re currently learning (about)?
bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home?
abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?
daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?
mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?
chia ⇢ what’s an inside joke you have with someone else?
sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?
edelweiss ⇢ how’d you think of your url/username? what’s it associated with to you?
camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?
jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?
ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?
chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts?
aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?
palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?
nutmeg ⇢ how’s your room/home decorated? do you have a specific theme or style going on?
papyrus ⇢ if you put your ‘on repeat’ playlist on shuffle, what’s the first song that comes up? what do you like about it / associate it with?
taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?
orchid ⇢ Oh gosh, I love sooooo many songs. A song I consider to be perfect... idk. I'll have to say Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey because it's my current obsession lol.
cactus ⇢ The Philosophy of Love. It's so cool. The Biblical Philosophy of Desire and Knowledge, Plato's Theory of Love and Becoming, The Medieval/Arabian concept of Courtly Love. They are all sooooo cool and sooooo fascinating and I love them all dearly.
bamboo ⇢ I go to school at home so I never really leave. And when I do leave to go somewhere on the weekend or such, I take a shower when I come home.
abelia ⇢ Not really, aside from this sterling silver cross necklace I got for my birthday last year. It's really cool and I love it hehehe
daffodil ⇢ So I have 3, all sisters. I don't really think i'm that similar to my older sister. Aside from sharing the same father, we're pretty different. With my two younger sisters, I look like the older of the two, however I'm nicer like the younger one.
mahonia ⇢ I try to take inspiration from literally everything. So... anything you can imagine lol. Whenever inspriation hits me I just start talking out loud. Usually it becomes a line for a poem. And i just recite that line out loud over and over until i get more lines. And then repeat. Usually i end up with a couple stanzas, constantly editing and revising in my mind the entire time until it's perfect. Or, near perfect as it can get.
chia ⇢ Me and my baby sister (she's 8 but always the baby) will constantly recite Benedick and Beatrice's lines to each other. Especially their first conversation in the play. Much Ado About Nothing is soooooo good loll. And then with @jordie-is-definitely-sane, we have incest is wincest lol. Because I love traumatizing her hehehe
sage ⇢ haha. I can't choose either. How could anyone??? I'm an aspiring actor, poet, and author, so obviously my favorites are theatre, poetry and prose fiction. But also music, paintings, sculpting, dance, et cetera all have such splendid things to offer as well. And i would love to learn how to do them all! They're all art and they all touch somewhere hands can't: into the deepest most inner part of your being. How one can say which is individually more touching? I can't fathom.
edelweiss ⇢ It's just my name + is definitely sane. Which is definitely a lie lol. My older one's were a lot more interesting but because of that i also constantly changed them lol. This one's more basic, but i'm never changing it
camellia ⇢ I'm not sure. I was happier as a kid, I used to run around more and talk more and I had a lot more friends irl. Now? I don't really know how to hold a conversation (T-T), I definitely talk less (not because i have less to say tho lol. Trust me I could talk for hours and I do when i'm alone), I definitely don't run around as much. Tho i'm not as sad about that last one. I have started dancing in the rain again like I used to so that's good :). I still read and write, in fact I do both of those even more then when i was younger. I still find beauty in everything. I still have an incredibly idealized view of nature and childhood. I still have a deep sense of needing to be myself (who that is? idk. but i need to find it) I think deep down I'm the same person. Just, kind of mellowed. I can't think of childhood and growing up without think of Trenton Lee Stewart's Riddle of Ages; he says that he doesn’t believe we become different people as we age. No, he says he believes that we become more people. We’re still the kids we were, but we’re also the people who’ve lived all the different ages since that time. And I think that's a beautiful sentiment.
jasmine ⇢ No. Absolutely not. If I loved it, im going to watch/reread it a thousand more times.
ivy ⇢ Body language, eyes, mouth, tone, the language they use (are they talking differently then usual), hands, etc.
chamomile ⇢ Books, chocolates, sweaters/hoodies, necklaces and bracelets (i love expensive shiny stuff but also that homey handmade stuff. I eat it up), MONEY$$$$$ lol. But like seriously.
aloe vera ⇢ I just want to know and be known. Which, though it sounds really mundane to others, I think is actually one of the most special, transcendental and divine things one can do in life (can you tell I've been studying the philosophy of love lol?). I genuinely believe in the Avicenna's concept of the ennobling power of love. With all of my heart.
palm tree ⇢ I mean... I can't really think of one? I love the Percy Jackson series and I love Luke so, i guess him? I have strong thoughts about him (bbg hates the West so much but is such a western tragic hero lol), he's so fascinating as a character and even moreso as a concept lol
nutmeg ⇢ My rooms pretty basic so no lol.
papyrus ⇢ I don't have one T-T. So i just picked a random song: ICU by Coco Jones. I associate it with @mera-mann-kehne-laga. No context.
taro ⇢ I'd probably tell them that I'm writing poetry, I'm working on 2 books, and that I scored a 28 on the ACT. I'm very bad at conversation so I probably just let them talk and listen to them, ask them questions to prod them, etc.
Thank you for the ask @memory-the-unconscious <333
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idk if u take requests but if you do could i request a fic w lady bellaston (maybe w the same reader character as your previous lady bellaston fics??) where they’re at a party and lady b is knowingly flirting with others to make reader jealous all the while sending looks at reader like ‘what are you going to do about it:);)’ and reader takes her to an empty room and fucks her lol no worries if you don’t take requests tho!!
Masquerade - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader
Masquerade - Lady Bellaston x fem!reader
warnings: smut
note: I've really grown to love the oc I creadted with the whole Under Her Spell story. Love that even though the story is officially over, you requested the character again. Also love that you all love the series so much.
word count: 2.2k
“I understand you will attend the masquerade ball next week?” Your father asked, just as he was about to head out for the day. “Affirmative, father. I’ll have William fetch my clothes from the tailor this afternoon.” You responded, looking at him from your desk as you dropped the quill in your left hand.
“You’re not again writing that foolish poetry, are you? Son, how often must I tell you that you are no Shakespeare? And quit writing with your left hand.” He ordered, a deep frown on his face.
“When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down. I’ll crawl home to her.” You recited the words written down on the piece of parchment before you, looking your father straight in the eye. The man’s frown seemed to only deepen at your words. He turned around and left without saying another word. You sighed. Nothing you ever did could seem to make him proud.
Later that day, William arrived with your clothes for the ball. Your father had insisted on the family colors, however, you decided to only go for the blue and switch the black for silver elements. He was not attending either way, so you thought you could just as well do a bit of your won thing.
You hadn’t seen Lady Bellaston since the night the two of you spent at Champagne Lane, but you regularly exchanged letters. William was so gracious to act as a courier for the two of you, delivering your letters to her and her letters to you, so your father wouldn’t suspect anything. William truly was a man of honor. He’d been around the manor for as long as you could remember. For a long time he had been your only friend.
The letters mostly consisted of her telling you about how much she longed to be with you again, while your letters always included a new poem of yours that you had written for her and only her.
Since you met her, your creativity had increased. You saw her in all the little things. The flowers, the sky, the clouds, and the moon with the stars at night. Sometimes even a word was enough to make you think of her.
As the masquerade ball was approaching, you felt yourself grow nervous. It was the first time that you would be seeing her after Champagne Lane. What if she suddenly decided she wanted to end it all? What if she had told anyone? What if she had told your father?
“Are you quite alright, Y/n?” William asked you as he fixed the buttons on your shirt. Whenever your father was not around, he called you by your real name. Whenever you heard your own name, a smile appeared on your face. Your father always called you Atticus. Everyone called you Atticus. Everyone but William, Charles, and now, Clarissa.
“Yes, it’s nothing.” You sighed, your hands a bit clammy. “Is it about Lady Bellaston?” He asked and you met his eyes. “I haven’t looked at the letters. But I sense there is a strong connection between the two of you.” He explained as he stepped aside for you to look into the mirror.
“We have been sleeping together, if that is what you are asking.” You told him as you smoothed out your clothing. “I was not implying-” William started but you cut him off, chuckling. “It’s fine, William. Really.” You told him. “I suppose, I am just nervous to see her again. We’ve been talking over letters over the past two weeks, but what if she decided that she wants to end whatever we are having? What if she thinks it was wrong?”
“Everything will be alright, Y/n. I’ve seen how she beamed when I came with your letters every day. How she was eager to get your reply. She won’t change her mind. And if she does: Whatever happens, happens. Everything happens for a reason.” William tried to soothe your nerves. “Thank you, William.” You genuinely told him and he gave you a smile. “Now leave. And enjoy yourself. Your father is in Paris until the day after tomorrow, do not worry about the time of your return.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow then. And thank you again.” You told him as you got ready to leave. “My pleasure, Y/n.” He spoke and left you alone.
The carriage in front of your home seemed to have arrived just in time for you to leave. You were still nervous but William seemed to have managed to calm your nerves down severely.
There were already loads of people at the masquerade when you had arrived. You got off the carriage and looked at the mask in your hands. With a sigh, you secured the mask over your eyes and tied it at the back of your head.
You looked around, trying to find any sort of familiar figure but decided it was not worth the effort. Everybody looked so different with the mask on. You still tried to find that one particular blonde among the many people.
“You have got to be kitting me! Atticus Huntington?” A voice grabbed your attention and you turned around. You were met with a small man. His hair was neatly pulled back into a slick bun at the back of his head. “Blifil? Is that you?” You asked. You hadn’t seen the man that you knew when he was still a boy in years. “So it is you! I haven’t seen you in a long time. What have you been up to?” The young man asked. “Spent some time in the countryside. Wrote a book. Everything and nothing, really.” You explained. Then Blifil was saying something about how he wanted to go to the countryside too, but it just didn’t seem to be a fitting environment for him and some other things that you didn’t quite catch because you were distracted by something, or rather someone.
About fifteen meters away was a woman in a yellow dress, a mask hid her face, but you would know that hair anywhere. It had a different color than all blonde hair you had ever seen. It had a texture that you’d know everywhere. And she was talking with some man, a tad older than you. A hand on his arm as she laughed at something he said. You had a hard time drawing your eyes away from her but managed to get back to your conversation with Blifil.
“I don’t think you’d be a fit for the countryside either, lad… Look, it was nice catching up with you, but I need to find someone.” You explained and gave his shoulder a pat. “Yes, no worries, I must be off as well.” He said and you parted ways. When you looked back to where you had just seen Clarissa with the mysterious man, there were now two ladies, one dressed in delicate green and the other in a deep purple gown. You looked around. No sign of Lady Bellaston.
As you were about to give up on searching, you saw the yellow dress again out of the corner of your eye. There she was, talking to… Tom Jones? What could she possibly want from Tom Jones? Surely she was not going to allow him to wed Sophia. There it was again. That laugh. That laugh that you had come to adore so much. The laugh that you thought was only for you.
As if Clarissa seemed to have felt you watching her, her head turned and she looked at you, giving you a smirk. That was when you knew what she wanted. It was all a game. She wanted to make you jealous and you hated that it was working. Your jaw clenched when you watched her laugh at yet another joke Ton Jones seemed to have made. She looked at you again, quirking an eyebrow at you as if to say ‘what are you going to do about it?’. You took a deep breath before abandoning your drink on the next best table and then made your way over to where Clarissa and Tom Jones were seated.
“If it isn’t Tom Jones. Are you not supposed to be talking to Sophia? My Lady Bellaston.” You acknowledged her presence as you put on a fake smile for Tom Jones. “I was just about to leave.” He gritted out between his teeth before getting up and leaving.
“Follow me.” You said to Clarissa, grabbing her hand, leading her to the next best room inside that you could be alone in.
“What was that about?!” You asked her through gritted teeth. “Why in God’s name were you trying to seduce Tom Jones?! He’s not in love with you!” You were backing her up against the closed door, leaving no place to escape for her. She had a smug smile on her face as her hands reached behind her head to get rid of her mask before she reached around your head to get rid of yours as well.
She caught you off guard with that. It was not what you had been expecting at all. Confused, you looked at her, meeting her emerald green eyes. “Because I want you.” She breathed out. “And this was the fastest way.” She explained, a hand cupping your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip.
“You’re mine.” You breathed once you had comprehended her words. “You belong to me. And if you ever look at him like that again, you are going to be very sorry, Clarissa.” You told her and her pupils dilated at your words. “Understood?” You asked her, looking deep into her eyes. You took the small whimper that fell from her lips as a yes. “Turn around.” You ordered and she immediately obliged.
You practically tore the dress from her body, not caring if it took damage as you removed it from her body. You just needed so much access to do what you had in mind. “Now I’m gonna show you who you belong to.” You growled into her ear. You looked around to find the next best place to take your activities to and saw a desk in the middle of the room. You got a hold of her hips and led her to the wooden piece of furniture.
One swift movement was all it took for you to lift her up to sit on the desk as you stood between her legs and removed her underwear. As you did, you got the perfect look at her breasts, corset so tight they were threatening to spill out of it. And the little heart-shaped mark was present once again.
You dragged your index finger up her slit and a low moan left the woman’s mouth. “Oh, darling. I’ve barely touched you and you are already drenched.” You chuckled at the wetness you found between her legs.
Without a warning, you thrust two fingers into her dripping core, Clarissa’s head falling back at the rough pace you set from the beginning. Your fingers play with her sensitive bundle of nerves, while one of her hands reach for your hair, gently tugging on it, while streams of moans leave her throat. Your lips latch onto her cleavage, leaving mark after mark on her porcelain skin.
Her gasps get higher in pitch and once you feel her flutter around your fingers, you pull away fully, gaining a groan and whimper in response. Just as Clarissa was about to say something about it, you slipped your fingers back inside, thrusting even harder and faster, a moan taking up the space of her words. Her pupils were blown wide, and her chest was flushed and covered in, what you thought was, art.
Your thumb on her clit continues to tease her further, her gasps becoming more frequent and the rhythm more frantic. Just when you curl your fingers into that special spot inside of her, her back arches fully into you, and a loud moan leaves her mouth. When you press your lips to hers in an attempt to silence her loud moans, the kiss is sloppy and messy. A few moments later, curses in what seemed to be French started leaving her mouth. Within the next few moments, you can feel her walls flutter around your fingers and her hands clawing at your back, into the fabric of your suit, while you throw her over the edge. You helped her ride out her high, before pulling away. “Who do you belong to?” You ask her, wanting to know if she remembered anything about your conversation from before. “Yours.” She panted, trying to catch her breath.
Her hair was now messy, the heart-mark washed away by sweat and her lipstick was smudged. You wondered if there was some on your face. The way she smiled at you made your heart ache. “I think I’m in love with you.” You blurted out. Just as you realized what you had said, you put your hands to your mouth. “Sorry- that was...”
“You think or you know?” Clarissa asked, now back to her cocky self. “I know.”
#gxg#wlw#fem!reader#lesbian#rebecca welton#rebecca welton x reader#ted lasso#hannah waddingham#lady bellaston x reader#lady bellaston#tom jones pbs#junikicker
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omfg so this is for @strawberrylabs birthday which was a month ago
school has overtaken my life and i havent been able to work on any reqs or really anything except school
i am so sorry to anyone whos requested and i still havent done the request - im trying my best to finish them but final year is very hectic
anyways without further ado~!
how they celebrate your birthday !!
ft. nagi seishiro, bachira meguru and kaedehara kazuha
!!WARNINGS!! gender neutral reader / no pronouns mentioned
no actual warnings just pure fluff
nagi seishiro
so nagi
my husband
we all know how he is, he's very lazy and does not like putting effort into things
he loves you very much but he doesn't have the energy for anything
honestly a part of me feels like he'd forget about your birthday and reo would have to remind him
when he remembers its your birthday he'll do a little something
i think he'd by you a little gaming console as your gift so you could play games with him
this man cannot cook to save his life so dont expect him to cook you dinner
but he would order some food and light a small candle and make it look like a cute romantic dinner date
he only puts effort into / pays attention to things he likes
and he likes you a lot :)
after the dinner he'll drag you to bed and cuddle with you
and once he's latched on to you good luck getting him off
he'll be on top of you cuddling you
and this man is h e a v y
tall muscle man
if you need to get up for whatever reason youll either have to pry him off or beg till he gives in (which will take a long time so you better start prying his arms off your body)
i like to think he likes wearing oversized hoodies so he can pull them over your head and the two of you can cuddle in his hoodie
my skrunkly baby mwah mwah i love him
bachira meguru
this rat /affectionate
this man would do SO MUCH for your birthday
imagine coming home from work / school and the entire house is decorated
like there's balloons everywhere and confetti
oh and a giant pile of gifts
you'll do a double take when you see the huge gift pile
"meguru darling! what is this-" you call out to him
"hun!! you're back!!" he pops his head into the room
he has a giant grin on his face and he's wearing a little party hat
he runs over to you and spins you around in a hug and puts a little crown on your head
"come on i have so much planned for today!"
he doesn't even let you get a word in he just drags you off
you have an amazing birthday
he makes you open all the presents while he records because he wants to show his mom his amazing partner
most of the gifts are very sweet and things you wanted
but there will be a couple of… odd- gifts
like a single sock
idk don't ask
anyways!
this man will literally tell you he's proud of you for being born
10/10 very good boyfriend
kazuha
kazuha my love
so as we know from what beidou said when she introduced him
flowers come out of his mouth the moment he speaks
so just be prepared for that
i think kazuha would write poems for and about his s/o all the time
and that includes a special birthday poem for you
if at the time of your birthday youre out at sea with the alcor crew then your birthday will be celebrated by the whole crew all together
its a very lively and fun celebration
but afterwards (when most of the crew passed out) kazuha will take you to a part of the ship where no one else is
the two of you will sit in the moonlight and he'll sing? recite-? idk but he'll tell you the poem he wrote for you
the two of you will have a nice romantic moment
the two of you might end up falling asleep together on the ships deck under the moonlight
AN// ohkay! thats done now
i hope you like it beloved <33
and others who read hope you enjoy too~!
i am now going to go work on other requests while im still in the groove
#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin headcanons#genshin fluff#genshin scenarios#bllk x you#nagi x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock x reader#blue lock fluff#nagi seishiro x reader#nagi x you#bachira x reader#bachira x you#bachira fluff#kazuha kaedehara#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha x gender neutral reader#genshin x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#blue lock x you#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact headcanons#genshin imagines#genshin impact#genshin impact fluff#genshin x gn reader#genshin#genshin hcs
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Aaravos's prison
I think I know where/what Aaravos's prison is
(MAJOR spoilers for season 5)
((ps this is my first post/theory so I'm sorry if it's a mess))
In episode 9 (of season 5 oc) we see a large statue of Aaravos and the Jailer, well I think that's actually him, and the magic pearl(?) is his soul, he's basically trapped in both mind and body.
we've seen characters turn to stone before, ie Avizandum, and a lot in promotional things, and even the new intro with Viren who ends up dying this season, so this could be a hint.
in ep 4 in the bookery the poem they'er looking at says 'Laureloin was no more' But they also call the startouch immortal and undying, Callum just assumes 'no more' means death, but what if it's nothing else? Say separating a soul/consciousness from a body? Aaravos seems to project his consciousness and consciousness throughout the seasons (and Viren's in the 5th) when he's in his ghosty spectral form, something I assume that's star magic because it doesn't fit the other arcanum accept maybe moon.
arguable the best evidence for this is what happened to Janai's grandmother "I swallowed her" so this man either fork and knife ate her, shrunk her, or his actually body is big enough where he can just do that.
and as I said before about imagery, this season stepped it up A LOT, and during promotions we see a lot of Aaravos holding, and puppeteering characters, maybe another hint?
if Aarvos is actually that big, that would kinda make sense in the scale of the world. What I mean is, there's some animals/creatures that are just MASSIVE, I understand it being a fantasy, but when I first saw the size of arch dragons I was like ???, but if the world was originally made by startouch elves the sizes make sense, the hermit crab Sealegs, the amblers (the big camel animal thing in the desert episode season 3 ep 5) would be to scale if they really are that massive
also if you follow the dragon prince on instagram (maybe on twitter too? idk don't have it) on their website they'll post short stories, one centered around Aaravos implies his fall to Xaida made The Lake of Outcast, and if that's true, the impact of something that big would make a big crater and name make a lot of sense.
also less of evidence but maybe not? a while ago, before the character charts where released someone in a panel said Aaravos was the biggest character, there was a meme going around that he's bigger than Avizandum, but what if he actually is?
as for the pearl being his soul, the only thing I really got is separating the soul from the body making him 'no more' and the fact when he does magic his eyes are white and iridescent like pearls are.
So what does that mean in the future? Hopefully an epic final battle, but also I have a few predictions. The next step the crew is going to take is going after the Novablade/Starscraper, I think it's literally going to be a massive sword. And going a little off the rails a little bit, I love the idea that only a startouch elf can wield it because of its size, but that could be wishful thinking, I'd love a startouch to join the crew, maybe the Jailor?? (give me more startouch lore)
anyways tell me if you have any rebuttals, evidence, or more thoughts!
#the dragon prince#tdp spoilers#tdp#tdp season 5#tdp s5 spoilers#tdp theory#tdp s5#aaravos tdp#aaravos#tales of xadia#tdp headcanons#tdp callum#tdp rayla#tdp memes#i have a lot of thoughts
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Found this randomly, and just decided to answer all the questions for Eleven and River.
1. River, not to say Eleven isn’t affectionate, but he doesn’t ever say how he feels directly. which resulted in River assuming he didn’t love her at all, so yeah, she wins.
2. River is the little spoon, because Eleven likes to play with her hair while she’s asleep.
3. I mean, I could say the whole spoilers thing, but that’s easy, so instead…probably arguments about killing people.
4. Exploring. they’re both nerds. he’s the doctor, she’s an archaeologist. Yeah, exploring.
5. Already drew it, the answer is River. One, she’d fight him if he tried to pick her up. Two, Eleven is a stick. Three, River being badass is half the reason Eleven is into her. her picking him up would fluster the idiot to no end, and I love that.
6. Eleven: Hair River: His Blushing
7. Eleven: starts flirting back River: stops trying to kill him?
8. Hello Sweetie~
9. Depends on which end of the timeline we’re on. River in her past was reckless and violent, and probably saw the doctor as a complete stick in the mud, with all his spoilers, and rules. Towards the end however, she was the one teaching him his own rules. (that’s what we call a bootstrap paradox.) meaning she had to be the worrying responsible one.
10. The Doctor remembers almost every detail about River. he could tell you the exact thing she’d order, even at a place they’ve never been to, just by glancing at the menu.
11. Usually River.
12. Still River.
13. That one is Eleven. River would never think to hold hands, unless she was dragging him somewhere.
14. River, the doctor is too busy fidgeting/melting into the floor.
15. The doctor barely sleeps.
16. Surprisingly enough, I think that’s Eleven. It’s not to sleep mind you. He’d just want to spend more time with her before dropping her back off, especially towards the end of his timeline.
17. River, I don’t think Eleven ever says it, not to her. he’s probably said it to himself, or even to other people, but he never got around to telling her.
18. I imagine Eleven would leave meals for her on occasion towards the end of their timelines. Mainly when he was running out of days he could see her. they’d usually have notes with random jokes and things. they were his way of saying ‘I love you have a good day/night,’ without actually saying it.
19. River
20. They’re supportive…at least, as much as one can be when your friend marries your daughter. I think they took it well honestly.
21. Eleven, he asks her to dance at nearly any opportunity.
22. River can’t cook. surprisingly enough, cooking a decent meal wasn’t part of her kill the doctor training. Eleven on the other hand, can cook quite well. he tried to teach her once, and the kitchen caught on fire.
23. Eleven is the king of cheesy pickup lines.
24. River, all the time, especially when she was younger.
25. Eleven, but only because River functions without it. She definitely needs assurance that her husband loves her, because it’s eating her up inside, but she’s still able to do things regardless. The doctor meanwhile, has moments where, without assurance, he’s going to fuck up the universe.
26. IDK you yet
27. Eleven.
28. Eleven: travel River: depends, either school, jail, digs, or teaching.
29. One for each.
River never traveled with the doctor, because she feared her husband would come to resent her for risking their timelines.
The Doctor has thought of millions of different ways he could save River from the library, but is so afraid of failing, that he hasn’t attempted any of them.
30. One for each.
River always keeps a box of Jammie dodgers around in case Eleven drops by. she’s been doing this since university.
Eleven’s diary is nothing but him gushing about his wife. like it’s just full of him complimenting her, and writing awful poems, and sketching her. He’s definitely written down that he loves her, even if he’d never said it.
#otp questions#randomly wanted to do this#doctor who#eleventh doctor#11th doctor#river song#shipping#11 x river#river x eleven#the doctor x river song#river song x the doctor#headcannons#beware#this took forever
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Hi, could I get a match up? Idk if I should write my preferences or you choose yourself but I'd be glad men from honkai star rail or genshin, I love them both! 🩷
I'm a very calm INFP-T, wear classy clothes such as furs, pearl necklaces, loose sweaters, am rather introverted but whenever I meet someone new I put on a smile and take an initiative with talking.
I'm talented in drawing, love listening to 40's music and I drink tea almost religiously.
I don't like crowds so I avoid taking walks just because, if I have no reason to go outside then I stay at home and enjoy drawing or tidying up my room (which I also like). Most of the time I am by myself.
As for my physical appearance, I'm a 169cm girl/woman (idk, I'm legal but too young to call myself a woman, hah!) with blonde locks, blue eyes and slim body. I love a subtle makeup to make my feature pop. I have "sad eyes" if I may say so.
What else do I say? I'm easily embarrassed but I also know how to make people laugh. I'm very friendly and it's very hard to irritate me. I tend to overlook people's flaws but I don't get attached too easily. I'm an optimist and a romantic at heart.
I hope it's enough and I truly hope I you're up for the task! Wishing you all the hest, your blog is amazing ☺️🩷
Hi sweetie
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Jing yuan
Absolutely two cuties together.
I think Jing yuan finds you just adorable! Like at times he'll just stare at you and think to himself about how gorgeous you are
He appreciates your sweet and polite attitude, since he is the general, having such a partner as his significant other is a good look for him (this sounds like it would make him look bad if you Warent I'm not saying that I'm saying it's nice that you're friendly bc the people of Xianzhou will love you)
He knows your dislike for crowds and doesn't usually take you anywhere where there are a lot of people, maybe a fancy restaurant at night, a picnic somewhere away from a city, or simply just a walk in the silent part of a part.
He's also a fanboy over your drawings, literally your biggest fan and sometimes just sits there and watched your draw without saying anything, also loves to show it off like fu xuan has already heard it all
KAZUHA
Two calm and sweet cutiepies
Also he's into music, you're into art, isn't that the best combination!?
He enjoys being with you, close to you, talking to you, generally being with you, he's the happiest vision holder in the world when hes with you
You can make him laugh, and that, he's grateful for.
Sometimes life takes a toll on him, sentimental feelings getting to him, yet all those thoughts leave his mind when a smile tugs on your lips when you attempt to make him chuckle.
Like a hand waved away all the dark clouds of his mind, his thoughts get lighter and he's reminded that after all, as long as there's you, his life has meaning, either for his heart to beat in rhythm to yours, or to witness the smile on your lips and the way your eyes stare into his, thats what makes him feel complete, you help him forget about everything, even for a second.
Expect a lot hand written hakus and poems, complimenting all about you, inside and out, it's a small way of him showing his appreciation
#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#genshin fluff#honkai star rail x reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact x reader#honkai x reader#genshin headcanons#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha x y/n#kazuha x gender neutral reader#jing yuan x gender neutral reader#jing yuan x y/n#jing yuan x you#jing yuan x reader#jing yuan x male reader
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I feel like the new nona excerpt gives some new and interesting context to the nona poem from tor
like this isn’t really new info but first of all, i think its really interesting that “Sleep” is capitalized in the first line, almost like a name. idk what it means, only that its interesting given the context of “the sleeper” and “Wake”.
but also i feel like it makes a lot of sense for this to be from the POV of John to Alecto. He’s putting her to sleep, either shutting her in the tomb or cryo-freezing her the way that they were gonna cryo-freeze the 11-billion. (still not convinced that the “you” in the nona excerpt isn’t BOTH alecto and the 11-billion. i think it works alongside the alecto-resurrection-beast theory.)
“what is morning?” just from the naivete here, this sounds a LOT like Nona, and also like the "she” that’s speaking at the end of the nona excerpt (who seems like Alecto but who John calls Harrowhark.)
“When everyone who fucked with me is dead. When everyone we loved has gone or fled.” This feels really reminiscent of the trillionaires who fled earth, and maybe of the people on earth who they couldn’t save. I’m not sure whether this poem is set at the time of the resurrection or at the time when Alecto was entombed, but depending, I think this could also be talking about BOE, especially given the other things John said about BOE in HtN:
When it says “let’s put this first-draft dream of mine to bed,” I don’t really know what it means except that it makes me sad! I don’t really have any evidence for this, but it feels like its talking about something like the failure to save Earth’s people, or like the failure to save the cavaliers, or something. A plan that was hopeful and wonderful and could save someone, but was naïve and couldn’t have worked, and now its time to let it go. This could also be literally referring to Alecto as the “first-draft dream,” because she’s been framed as like, a proto-cavalier who wasn’t quite right, a human who wasn’t quite human, and the poem already seems like its about putting her to sleep.
I have fewer conclusions about the next two stanzas, other than that the first one reminds me of some lines in Annabel Lee (in the last stanza of the poem it talks about lying down by her side in her tomb). The stanza after that feels more mysterious and potentially more ominous, and I don’t know what it means other than that it reminds me a lot of the conversations/themes surrounding when Mercy kills God in HtN (forgiveness, anger, graves, lies). That’s all I can think of there.
And as for the last two lines, I feel like its pretty overtly connected to the nona excerpt. She (Alecto? Harrow? Alecto+Harrow=Nona?) asks “When is the part when you hurt me?” and he says “Soon, it’s coming up.” then she says “I still love you.” This feels pretty obviously parallel to “You held aloft the sword/I still love you.”
I don’t really have any other good conclusions about this except that it makes me have lots of feelings. tazmuir why did you build your book series like a scavenger hunt
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idk how else to word this to make it sounds less accusatory or aggressive so please excuse how my wording/tone may come across
how come recreating sexually traumatizing scenes in a sexually gratifying way can be healthy/helpful but thats not a thing for any other sort of trauma?
‘Not a thing for any other sort of trauma’
Your just not looking my guy, vets for instance will play tactical airsoft that involves using helicopters and being stranded on an island in a fight for survival.
People use boxing or martial arts as a way to learn to defend themsleves in ways they never could as children
Emotional and mental abuse can be replayed by playing dnd, role switching game, or just roleplay/ story telling
BDSM is one of many outlets out desensitize yourself from trauma. So heres a few more:
Art, sports, hiking, hunting, fishing, puzzles, animal keeping, gardening, video games, roleplay, story telling, Journalling, spiritual practices. The list goes on.
This comes off as ignorance to the process of trauma processing. It isn’t a linear process. Often tied to your basic means of survival (espically with CPTSD) these things are more like unwinding string than going through steps.
Id recommend the book the body keeps score. It has a great overview of trauma and its effects on the body.
My blog literally is dedicated to venting my experience as a stockholm syndrome suffree. I have 400+ poems at this point. Id recommend take a look around. If anything has made a profound impact on my trauma journey its that. I have a seperate blog dedicated to it called hatismood. You can get the idea of the scale of trauma processing. It isnt one action often many. Slowly reprogramming your brain that what your doing is safe.
BDSM is flashy. Most people cope with trauma in several different ways at once. Its never polite to ask someone if they’re doing something to work through trauma. So your never going to know unless they tell you. You have probably met more than a fair share of people on their healing journey doing something that helps them desensitize themselves.
Part 2 of that.
The phrase “recreating sexually traumatizing scenes in a sexually gratifying way” does not sit right with me. Your missing context. None of what I experienced was sexually traumatizing. I think more importantly I am not doing BDSM just to recreate trauma in a sexually gratifying way. That is an aspect but I love BDSM as a hobby. I consider it a legitimate craft and it takes time and dedication to preform. Dumbing it down to “free trauma recovery” does feel a bit insulting and lacks the appropriate depth BDSM deserves.
Trigger warning:
I’ll get dark with you here. When someone molests me unprompted that is sexually traumatizing.
When I am tied down to a chair by my boyfriend cracking jokes to him while hes cutting me. I have an adrenaline high but I am not scared. He is not scared. No one is scared or out of control in that situation. When I am being asked constantly if I am okay that is far from trauamtizing.
What im doing is exposure therapy. Familiar traumatizing stimulus is being exposed to me in a safe and contained manner. This dampens and slowly erases the connotations of trauma with these stimulus. Its a great way to cope with trauma and a basis for EMDR which focuses on rewriting and reframing traumatic memories.
I just want it to be super clear not recreating trauma. That’s not the only reason I’m doing it either. I feel like if you did BDSM for the sole purpose of healing a specific trauma you would have to clearly communicate that to your partner. Cause most people want to get dinner with you after or before. Learn about you first, have a relationship with you. You get the idea.
Personally I do it for many reasons. I think my top 3 are Trust, intimacy and connection. The trauma healing is something i never count on. Cause often with play i never get that but I do get a happy play partner and thats what im here for.
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My thoughts for Retrace XLVII - Retrace XLVIII
Okay, so after these two chapters, I had a sudden realization that Oz is actually super smart. To say, I knew he was smart but to ad-lib or basically bullshit his way into the mansion in the possession of an influential guy from a neighboring country is just... wow lol.
I was cheering for him all along because he really, efficiently managed the whole Isla Yura business all by himself. The very reason everyone got to get into his secret castle was Oz. Isla Yura, being a person of another country, meant Pandora can’t even have a seize-and-search sort of warrant either.
The plan went something like this—
a. Jack Vessalius No.1 fan, Isla Yura would extend an official invitation to Oz to visit his mansion (where they suspect the third seal is hidden) if he brings out his inner Jack from within him.
b. Oz does a perfect personification of Jack and recites a poem he had memorized from the papers given by Ryatsu (hold on, this means they had really formed a cult revolving around Jack??? I wasn’t wrong?!) Even their emblem is based on the description in the poem.
I believed it was Jack, okay? I really believed Jack had popped out when Oz tried to stab himself. But then—
—he got me good grrr! I love his expressions here, and yes, Rufus Barma you too did your part (sigh he is needy for attention lol)
c. But the next problem is that only Oz has been invited to the mansion and he needs to get everyone in there so that they can hunt for the Seal together. A problem which he once again handles resourcefully. Well it isn’t exactly a lie that his first Coming-of-Age ceremony had been interrupted by the Baskervilles and that he never got to the end.
d. Isla Yura offers to organize the second Coming-of-Age ceremony at his mansion (for his own purposes too ofc)
e. annnnd Mission Complete!
I had the same expression as Gil here lmao—
2] When Alice sniffed at Elliot, my first thought had been—ooooh, more evidence for my Elliot being next Glen theory???
(unfortunately that theory is debunked now ofc) but this too was quite a bit of foreshadowing.
It’s a neat detail that Alice, a chain, could detect the presence of an illegal chain inside Elliot that he himself was unaware of; however, she couldn’t place it right away (had she figured it out earlier, could the tragedy have been avoided, I wonder? But the hand will continue to move whether they like it or not, right? Maybe, they could have killed Humpty-Dumpty before the hand moved back to the starting point? idk. Just me still sad that this too-precious-for-this-world boy was to meet with such an end *flips table and jumps out of the window*)
3] What a beautiful picture!
Somehow it makes me more worried about what’s coming up for them for the future :(( already one down, ten to go lol
Oz is the only one smiling properly at the camera; Gil and Alice bickering as usual. Sharon wants Alice to call her Mom Big Sis. Break is trying to act cool and failing. Reim, smile properly at the camera, what’s with that :> smile lol? Uncle Oscar has adopted the entire town by this point, I am sure. Somebody pat Echo's head please! Elliot, cut out your tsundere act and join the others!
Well, let me end this small post with this picture of Elliot and Oz nostalgic fist bump TT_TT me sobbing over all the what-could-have-been-s
#pandora hearts#oz vessalius#rufus barma#isla yura arc#retrace xlvii#retrace xlviii#may-reads-ph#the fandom better have the canon-divergence and what-ifs-aus fanfics ready for me by the time i finish this series lol#so i can close my eyes to whatever happens#in canon and pretend like everything is alright just like merry un-birthday!
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What do you think is the origin of the Cat's Cradle name? Or what would you think would be a good origin of the name?
I think about why the hell it's called cats cradle all the time like. It shouldn't be. Why is it solely English if it's in the Spanish countryside and property of the Catholic church (who are Italian) like. It doesn't make sense to me!! (The show as a whole is much more english than it probably should be, given that lots of it takes place in Madrid. seems unrealistic that the ppl who approach ava on the streets try talking to her in english first but that's a very minor gripe, given some of my bigger problems with the show's structuring).
I think it being called cat's cradle is solely for The Cool Factor. It's a cool name! You could make some argument that it's called a cradle because it's the birthplace of Arela's warrior line, and you'd probably have a fairly convincing argument. You could argue that it's a Witcher school situation, like it's called Cat's Cradle because the sister warriors are trained to fight like cats, or whatever. (You would be wrong. They use guns for fucks sake!) I'm 99.9% sure it's not named after the Vonnegut novel.
This answer is entirely off the cuff for me, so I'd be an idiot not to say: I'm American. There may be a nursery rhyme or folk story from the region (spain/italy/vatican city/europe at large) that mentions a cat in a cradle that I straight up just don't know, and that would make more sense. As it is, the only reference I can think of is the Vonnegut novel and the little cat and the fiddle poem from mother goose.
But overall I'm pretty sure it was just chosen for The Cool Factor in the og comic, and that's just persevered.
Edit to add: upon further reflection I think it may have more to do with the Vonnegut novel than I originally thought because Cat's Cradle is his novel all about a made up religion that was created to placate the masses and make them ignore how shitty their lives are while delighting in the inevitability of bad things happening. It's heavily sci fi. So. If Cat's Cradle IS a reference to our boy Vonnegut, it's a scathing indictment of catholicism in general, but also. Seems a little too on the nose to me. idk! could go either way!
#sorry this isn't a fun answer!#but I love world building and this name just pisses me off#the cool factor is a valid reason to name something btw#I shouldn't be hating#but I was thinking abt it on my way to work like#yeah dude it SHOULDN'T be cats cradle fr
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fanfic asks: 3, 5, 6, 7, 15, 18 + 29 (sorry i know that’s a lot)
Hiiiiii no worries, I love talking about writing almost as much as I love writing! <3
3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?
Are you going to make me choose between my children?? ... Okay, seriously, I love all of my stories. I'm probably proudest of "Heartleaves", though, and I still regularly re-read "Everything That Touches Us". Even when I'm collaborating, I'm still writing for myself, you know? These are the stories and relationships I wanna read about, so I do!
Also, even if it's not done yet, I'm still very proud of "Neon, Neon". It took a lot out of me to start writing German fanfic again, to publish it, and then to also make it Explicit. I realised that I really like writing porn in German, I guess? Aaahhh, that sounds TERRIBLE!! xD
5. What’s a fic idea you’ve had that you will never write?
"Never" is a long time.... But I've had this idea of a OFMD/Steddyhands AU that's basically an OT3 take on "Sweet Home Alabama", you know, the romcom with Reese Witherspoon? I even have a playlist for it, but.... there's so many other things I want to write? Idk... Maybe some day...
6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?
YEEESSSSSS. There's "Benefits & Costs" by trans_chickens, I JUST reread that and it's still AMAZING.
Then, the "Polyamory" series by Euphorion. Did I ever tell anyone that I'm obsessed with Kuroko no Basuke? WELL I AM OBSESSED. (Also, uuhhh, very E-rated, but go read the "A Firm Hand" series by lysapadin, it's so good!)
I'm sure there are more but those are the ones I remember rn.
Already answered 7. in a previous ask!
15. How do you come up with titles for your fics/chapters?
Uuhhh, sometimes it's just words I like or that feel fitting. I like one-word-titles, especially for the German stories. And while I do love to get inspired by music and lyrics, I like lines from poems for titles even more!
(And then there's "Neon, Neon", which is called that, because I couldn't come up with a title, but I knew I wanted something related to Neon Trees.......)
Already answered 18. as well! (Normally I would give you another line, because there are more, but I'm super tired sorryyyyyy......)
29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)
This is just an excerpt from an Ed/Izzy, with past Izzy/Sam Bellamy story that I'll probably never finish.
"Later, there's a Sam-shaped hole burned into the inside of his chest as if was made out of paper, the edges black and fraying and still able to ignite if it catches the breeze wrong.
He doesn't really think about it anymore, only that he burns and has been burnt, so he's decided that, for now, it's better to not think at all. About Sam. About Sam leaving. About any of it.
And if, sometimes, he thinks about satin under his hands, cool and soft and almost liquid, if he thinks about Sam's fingers digging into his thighs, about the dark-blue-like-the-sky-just-before-dawn bruises he'd left there, if he finds himself reminded of him when looking out into the night, and reminded of silk when looking out to sea. Well, then, that's his own fucking business, and everyone else can go fuck themselves."
I like the words here, maybe I'll re-use them for something else. (I also thought about sharing something from the One Piece modern roadtrip AU that I have lying around but every excerpt looked too long and this is already such a long answer....)
THANK YOU FOR ASKING <3 this was funnnnn!!!
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Mkay so like rumi’s love poems just got me feeling some type of way like
I know they’re romantic (written for a male teacher/lover no less. And as far as I can tell, it wasn’t a secret either. His students literally collected his love poems in a collection called something like “poems for shams”. This was 13th century Persia (or thereabouts -not quite clear on the actual geography and borders of the time- it was during mongol invasions), and this wasn’t a ‘love that dare not speak its name’. More reminder that homophobia was a colonial creation)). But like, looking at them, it feels like love in general. Like the way you feel when you look at a friend, at family, at a flower quivering in the morning dew. It’s love for life and for the universe.
I can only read the English translations and can only imagine the impact they must have had as original texts. Idk they just hit different.
#mod des#brown poets are best poets#No I will not be accepting questions it’s just fact#rumi#rumi and shams#poetry thoughts
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