#index; Secondary Muses
Note
"I love them so much, I don't know how to show it" For Ophelia and whichever RO you wanna use! And yes, I'm indeed spreading some ship propaganda!
Prompt list
Not the propaganda.
Don't say it like that, anon 💀
This'll have no dialogue because these two are quiet af and I want their actions to speak for them.
~•~•~
Oh, the way you grin makes my heart stop dead
And your kind warm words drain all judgement from my head
Oh, my sanity's placed secondary
'Cause somehow your spot is now primary
I don't know how to tell you this
Conscience, don't tell me what to do
But I think my heart's made a little space for you
– I Don't Know How To Tell You This - Faith Ling
~•~•~
It's quiet in the gazebo, with only the faint noise of students roaming about in the lunch hour coming from a distance. Well, putting the two most quiet people together in the same space, what do you expect to happen? A rave?
Fleur flips a page of the book she's reading (a random autobiography she found in the library and deepfully regrets borrowing), fist mashed to her cheek to support her head, reading glasses a bit unbalanced because of it, as her eyes dart from word to word. She would ocassionally glance up at the person across her, whose focus is on her sketchbook and sketching away, only to look back at her book again.
Ophelia doesn't seem to be aware of the glances stolen from her, brows furrowed deep in focus as graphite drag across the sketchbook with a satisfying scratching noise. Her other hand would reach for her kneadable eraser to lightly erase something, then drop it just as quickly back on her pencil case.
It's a rare sight to see these two be in the same area, though lately that rarity has turn to something more common. It has become the norm to see these two be near each other, from walking to and from class, to being in the library, to simply walking down the halls, and even right now, where they're spending their lunch together.
It's feels... oddly domestic, despite the lack of words exchanged between them.
It's as if they themselves already knew about this change in their dynamic.
No coordination, no warning before hand.
It has to be some coincidence that they started to do this, right?
Ophelia glances up at Fleur, then back at her finished sketch she now holds in both her hands, silently debating to show it to her. The sketch isn't anything mediocre like her water bottle or tree. No, no, instead it's a sketch (well, an accumilation of multiple sketches) of her muse; the girl that sits infront of her. Her thumb taps the side of her sketchbook, biting down on her lip in thought. There is a chance Fleur might not like it, but better to have an honest reaction than a plastic one, right? And Fleur is always one to be honest.
Taking in a deep breath, Ophelia carefully puts her sketchbook on the table and slides it over to Fleur.
Fleur glances up, raising a curious brow as she raises her head to see Ophelia sliding her sketchbook over, and on the sketchbook, is... her. Most of the sketches are candid views of her, where her gaze is often far away and looking at something else or she's focused on doing something. Though one has caught her eye.
It's another candid one, where she holds a little wild flower inbetween her thumb and index finger. A soft smile is on her sketch's face, as its gaze is focused on the flower. There is a small writing beside it too.
'I like this.' The writing says in scratchy hand writing made of graphite.
Looking back up at Ophelia, whose face is red and staring intensely at the table, Fleur reaches for a pencil.
Hearing the sound of pencil scratching on paper then her sketchbook being slid back to her, Ophelia looks up to see her pencil ontop of her sketchbook and a small message. It's beside her favorite sketch, and just below her little comment about it.
'I like this too.' It said in small, neat cursive. Ophelia immediately looks at Fleur, who has her gaze back on her book, but cheeks redden faintly, a soft smile poorly hidden by her hand.
Immediately, Ophelia looks back down, a happy and deeply flustered grin forming on her face as her cheeks burn brighter even more.
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Iliana Amastacia as a BG3 Companion!
Baldur's Gate 3 Companion!Tav Ask List
What if your Tav was a recruitable companion, instead of the main character? (contains major spoilers for the game, and for some dark urge runs as well)
General
Where can your Tav be recruited? Are they first encountered on the Nautiloid, or in the Nautiloid crash region? Or are they not recruitable until a later act?
100% you'd find her at the grove. You'd first meet her during the combat at the gate. Directly after, she can be found helping Alfira with "the weeping dawn". If you miss her in the wilds, your second act 1 chance would be in the underdark at the myconid colony. If you missed her THERE, you'd be able to find her in Act 2 at the last light in, bunked with Isobel and writing the history of the shadow curse.
Do the other companions have special comments or reactions upon recruiting your Tav?
Astarion: Well, this is....this is unexpected. I. Well, Our new friend, They are not...unfamiliar to me.
Lae'zel: t'chk. What use is music at a time like this?
Shadowheart: Never trust a bard. Though, she does have lovely hands, they look very....dexterous.
Karlach: A NEW FRIEND YAY
Wyll: Ah, yes, I've seen them perform. I was a mere lad, then (he continues to muse on her performances throughout the city). Though, I could have sworn she was in Lorroakan's employ…
Gale: Bards, now, THERE is an interesting topic! Their ability to manipulate the weave using song and poetry, truly, is inspiring. I wonder if (he trails off, tapping his index finger on his chin, and never finishes his sentence)
Halsin (if you find her in Act 2): Such a soothing presence and calming voice. Truly, a fine addition to our group.
Does your Tav have any comments or advice when you recruit other companions?
Only with Minthara. If the player recruits her, Iliana would likely need to be talked into staying. There would be a high (like 30) persuasion roll to keep her in the party if the player recruits Minthara in Act 2.
What sort of general actions raise or lower their approval?
Iliana is chaotic good, so good aligned choices will make her happy and intentionally evil choices will drop her approval fast, I'm talking huge drops for things other characters would consider a mild annoyance. Oddly, using the tadpole will raise her approval (much like Astarion)
Are there any instances where your Tav can permanently leave the party, depending on player character actions?
Any truly evil plot choices will make her leave. In Act 1, siding with the goblins to slaughter the grove (if, somehow, Iliana isn't in the party, she and Halsin {if he survived the goblin camp} will show up at the Tav camp to engage in a fight. If Halsin isn’t alive, and Iliana isn’t at the grove during the slaughter, she will know about it in act 2 and attack Tav).
Also in Act 1, if Tav hands Astarion over to the Gur, she will leave / attack the player/ attack the Gur.
In Act 2, last light inn destruction and nightsong death will lead her to leave or turn on the party. Act 3, if Tav decides to hand over Aylin to Lorroakan, Iliana will fight against Tav and the party.
Do they have any secrets that can be revealed? What are the prerequisites for this secret coming to light?
Iliana's hair is so big because it's full of secrets. If you have Iliana when talking to Rolan at the grove, when he mentions Lorroakan, you might notice her flinch, this would start to lay out the path to learn her past. The other secret, well, you'd have to get her and Astarion talking. In Act 2, She'll have a violent reaction to finding out the nightsong is a sentient being and do anything to protect Aylin. Act 3, you'll find out what she went through with Lorroakan.
Do they have their own personal quest that spans the course of the game? Can it take different branching paths depending on the choices the Player Character makes?
Iliana's personal quest would be called "The Songbird of Candlekeep" with a secondary quest called "old friends". "The Songbird of Candlekeep" gives you the option to literally sell her back to her master (or any of the Wizards looking for her), bargain her away to a devil, or free her. She has a secondary quest, "Old Friends" :3
What do they say when the Player Character asks them to stay in camp? How about when the Player Character asks them to come adventuring again?
When asked to stay in camp: I need to work on my manuscript anyway. When asked to head back out: Now? Like right now? *frantically shuffling papers and moving instruments out of the way*
Does your Tav have any escalating conflicts with one of the other companions, like Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s knife-fight?
Nah, she's pretty laid back. She and Astarion have a hefty bit of history so there's story, but not violence.
Are there any unique NPCs associated with your Tav that can show up during the course of the game?
In Baldur's Gate, she'll be recognized by people frequently. Volo will know her "Ah, my darling apprentice!" to which she will roll her eyes and reply "I studied with you for less than four hours, Volothamp."
Are there any moments in the game that trigger unique dialogue for your character? (Like Gale’s anecdote about the barfight after you save the goblin prisoner)
She has SO MANY little stories and anecdotes!
Story Specific
How does your Tav advise the player character when it comes to the Dream Visitor?
When it comes to the dream visitor, Iliana will trust them a little too easily. They promise freedom, and well. That's something she wants. For her and her friend.
How do they advise the player character on Raphael?
Raphael owned Iliana for a time. He was kind to her (as kind as someone like him can be to a "toy"), but she will advise against taking his bargain. The player will have the ability to sell Iliana back to him. Haarlep will be overjoyed at her return, and Raphael will be pleased to have something to use to barter with others.
How do they react to Astarion biting the Player Character?
"Vampires deserve to eat too". She readily offers her own blood.
How do they react to the Player Character letting Abdirak whip them?
Entranced. She goes second.
How do they react to the Player Character taking their first tadpole power?
Supportive but suspicious of power given so easily.
Will they stay with the Player Character regardless of siding with the goblins or the tieflings, or is it possible for them to leave the party permanently?
Iliana turns on Tav if they side with the goblins/the absolute.
What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?
At the Tiefling party, she'll be playing music and singing. Towards the beginning of the party, it's bawdy...the later the party goes, the softer her music becomes, till it's almost a lullaby and Halsin is asleep nearby.
Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?
Oh, they absolutely do. "You'll have to let me know how it goes, later". She's a bard....and rather, you know, classically horny bard at that so she'll probably have a lot of creative things to say. I promise you, she'll be hooking up with someone after the party as well (Likely, if the player isn't romancing them, Astarion. if the player IS romancing Astarion, she'll go for Gale or Shadowheart. She will absolutely have an exclamation point over her head the next day to spill the tea for her bestie)
Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?
Yes, she lets forth a string of vicious mockery attacks, bringing the player to 1hp, which a recently revivified Astarion stands by, applauding.
How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?
Romanced: "I'm not kissing you again until you brush your teeth. No, don't look at me like that. NO. NO NO NO *physically pushes Tav away*" non-romanced: "Sometimes, I wonder if you were always this way, or if the tadpole made you so"
What do they say if the PC tries to force them to go up on stage with Dribbles the Clown?
In a low, gravelly growl "I do not relish this, and you will pay dearly for it. I hate clowns, oh, I hate clowns." she repeats, quietly, "creepy clown" as she walks up to the stage, and keeps her distance as though the clown's very aura offends her.
Is it possible for your Tav to be kidnapped and replaced by Orin? How is Orin's deception revealed? How do they react to the PC rescuing them in the Temple of Bhaal?
I like to think she wouldn't be kidnappable. She's been through a lot of being held against her will already.
How do they react to the PC either allowing Astarion to ascend or convincing him to spare the 7000 spawn?
Huge approval loss for allowing, small approval gain for sparing. This is because "spare" should be the reasonable thing and doesn't really deserve a reward, in her mind. If Tav allows Astarion to ascend, she gives Astarion and Tav a lot of space after. It would take her a long, long time to forgive either of them that evil.
How does Tav react to the PC becoming a mind flayer? Can they offer to become one themselves? Does their reaction change if they’re romanced?
Iliana cannot offer herself up to be a mindflayer, but she absolutely still adores Tav just the same if they undergo the change. If Tav is romanced, Iliana will stay with them, but it'll take some adjusting.
How do they react when the Dark Urge first reveals their amnesia and murderous thoughts to them?
I feel like Iliana would softly touch the Durge’'s temple with one hand and their heart with the other and say something like "You get to decide who you are and how you behave. I'm here for you, and I'll help you."
How do they react to the Dark Urge killing Alfira?
Approval dip, but then understanding and scolding. Durge couldn't fight it. Iliana would bury Alfira and write a poem for her.
If romanced, how do they react to the Dark Urge trying to kill them in Act 2?
Calmly. “We’ll get through this, my love”. Iliana has dealt with a lot, and while perhaps no godlike killing rage, but she's dealt with people who wanted to inflict pointless suffering. Keeping Durge tied up till morning, she'd sing, softly, and maybe weave some higher level illusion magic around them to try and soothe them.
Romance
Is your Tav a romanceable character? Are there any specific requirements to romancing them?
Iliana would be romanceable. Player must be mostly good aligned, romance wouldn't be active until AFTER Tav saves the Tieflings, though she would be flirty prior.
Does your Tav need to be flirted with to start the romance, or will they approach the PC themselves if approval is high enough?
She'll be flirty, but the player flirting WITH her initiates it. She's just flirty. It's just how she is.
Are they a polyamorous or a monogamous option?
Poly, all the way, but they'd be okay mono as well. their Poly preferences are Halsin, Gale, Astarion, and Shadowheart. They can be convinced into Poly with the others, but it takes persuasion rolls if her opinion of the other origins is high enough. She _will_ interact with the other partner.
Do they have a special romance scene at the tiefling/goblin party?
They do have a special romance scene! It's soft and explicit at the same time.
Does the romance have different branching paths, or just one route to take?
Really only one romance path, however, Iliana has a lot of hard boundaries (SO MANY, as can be seen throughout this) and if they are crossed she breaks up with Tav.
How do they react to the player character breaking up with them, or choosing another character over them?
Iliana would understand, say "too bad, really, but I'll still write poems about you", and relegate them to friendship. She will start to flirt more openly with the rest of the party :D
What questions can Zethino ask the PC about Tav in the Love Test?
Probably EXACTLY the same questions as asked about Astarion
If they’re poly, do they have a reaction to the PC engaging in a relationship with Halsin?
She'd be so supportive of a Halsin triad, and she would def want to be involved.
How do they react if the PC has sex with Mizora? The Emperor? Haarlep?
Approval dip for sleeping with Mizora but no words spoken, cheeky questions for sleeping with the emperor, and sympathy for sleeping with Haarlep.
Will they join in with the PC and the Drow Twins, or no?
They absolutely would, enthusiastically.
What are Tav’s plans for the future? Do they propose to the PC, or is marriage not something they’re interested in?
Iliana has a lot of things to do, some of them to do with another origin and her quest. She could probably be convinced to “settle down”, especially if the poly path has been taken.
Free space! Share anything from your companion!Tav au!
I have already said far too much.
#liliana speaks#bg3 ocs#bg3 tav#tav posting#astarion's beloved fic#tav oc: iliana#oc: iliana#iliana amastacia#formatting this was a nightmare
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not to be fire nation on main but “ when i am near you, i finally know how it feels to breathe without worry, without caution. i just feel safe with you… “ for beloved Ilya? 👉👈
I should probably stop indulging the fire gremlins/stop confusing people with snippets about secondary characters but I uhhh...
Anastasia laughs heartily as Julian twirls her around, their merriment accompanied by the rest of the crew's rhythmical clapping. For the first time in quite a while, nothing weights on your mind.
You stand on the sidelines with Ilya, enjoying the well earned respite by sweetening it with a good cup of ale and some sweetmeats. Your next destination far away, along with the next step of your plan.
"Stop thinking about work," Ilya quips, flicking your forehead. "Or else the next advice will be less charitable."
He flexes his prosthetic with a meaningful rised eyebrow, hiding a smile behind the rim of his cup when you simply laughs at his antics. Knowing all too well he wouldn't dare.
"I wasn't thinking that hard about it," you muse, setting your drink on top of one of the many barrels safely secured on the deck. "It's just nice, seeing everyone in good spirits."
"Ah, so the Scarlet's youngest has grown attached," Ilya says, words sarcastic where his tone is not. "Julian will be pleased. He's ever so fussy with matters concerning you."
"And you're not?" You ask right back, a grin blooming unbidden. "I'll have you know, I've grown to enjoy your company. A lot."
Ilya squints at you, arms crossed over his chest, cup still held between his thumb and index finger. Ale sloshing as he twirls it absentmindedly, without spilling a single drop.
"Coming from you, that's hard to believe," he says, and you see him throw a glance Julian's way. "Figured you'd enjoy different horizons, seeing as the bastard who found you is as crazy as you."
You blink, ignoring the sarcastic quip in favor of studying his body language, the shiftiness of his eyes. Mouth parting in aghast realization. "Gods above, you truly are a fucking idiot."
Ilya sputters around a mouthful of ale, features hardening with irritation. There's a flash of canines as he says, "Care to repeat that?"
"You're a fucking idiot," you immediately comply, just then realizing everyone has stopped to listen—judging by Julian's muffled laughter, that is. "You must be, otherwise you'd notice I've been throwing myself at you whenever chance allows it!"
Ilya's complexion grows redder, although for a completely different reason this time. "Excuse me?" He asks, choking around the words.
You feel the urge to scream, to run and to hit him all at once, throwing your hands in the air to quell your frustrations. "Ilya, I tell you how good your presence makes me feel constantly! How I know I can take a step back and breathe, if you're there."
You feel your own cheeks heat up, embarrassment spreading to the tip of your ears, your nape. And yet, you push it back.
"I feel safe with you," you add, far more quietly. "And I know—"
You're abruptly interrupted as he cups your lips with his flesh hand, silencing further confessions at once. When you search for his eyes one last time, you're left speechless at the utterly undone expression you find there.
"I'm begging you to stop talking," he says, red as Urwos' finest spices, violet eyes wild. Then he curses in his homeland's tongue, keeping the pressure against your lips without looking at you.
"Fireheart, I can tell you what that means!"
Julian's playful quip is the last thing you hear before Ilya is dragging you away, holding onto your hand for dear life, ultimately sending your drinks flying as he tells his captain oh so very kindly to mind his fucking business.
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Debating how to fix some organization issues involving verses, lore, and secondary characters.
So I am starting to think that "Index" idea makes sense.
Basically, it's a list sorted something like...
_
Verse
Main Variant
Muses involved with verse
Associated lore
_
Then repeat.
It's going to be long and ugly, but the whole point of the index is that content is more sorted than just haphazardly placed all over the blog.
What are your thoughts on the matter?
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# 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐗𝐄𝐃 ━━━━━━ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 !
ind. priv. sel. pokemon multimuse , ft. characters from the pokemon special manga , original characters , & more. as INDEXED by SILAS ( 23 , she/they , est. ) rules & muses under the cut.
MUSES:
mara. 25. pokemon battle commentator. secondary.
gio. 29. doctor. tertiary.
ruby. 19. contest star. primary.
red. 24. world class trainer. primary.
yellow. 21. world traveler. primary.
solaria. 16. academy student. secondary.
victor. 16. galar's champion. secondary.
kieran. 18. movie star. secondary.
RULES:
no godmodding. you don't write my characters , don't try to control them in your replies. i don't mind it for smaller actions , but don't assume you know their motivations for anything beyond that. basic rp etiquette also applies , just don't be an ass & we'll get along fine.
low activity. while i love pokemon & writing , i'm unfortunately an extremely busy person , & quite frankly , sometimes , i just can't be assed to be here. mutuals are more than welcome to add me on discord , just im me to ask for it , since i'm much more responsive there.
nsfw/triggering topics. just because a majority of my muses are 18+ & i myself am an adult doesn't necessarily mean there'll be anything inappropriate written here. that said , the pokemon special manga does contain some darker material , such as mental health, death, child abuse, war, & more. i'll do my best to remember to tag everything , but i'm only human.
shipping. i love ships , i won't lie. that said , i won't ship any muse over 18 with anyone under 18 , & vice versa. for victor , i do have a post-game verse where victor is champion & his age ranges anywhere from 18-23. for solaria , i won't ship her with any characters NOT part of the main cast ( i.e. nemona , penny , arven ) or any characters who are not also academy students. anyone else is entirely fair game.
graphics. i made my icon border by myself & i do not use base icons. the coloring psd is not mine , & all icons will be made from official sources only.
threads. the best way to start a thread is to send an ask , it's much easier than plotting sometimes. you can always turn an ask into a thread , & i love having multiple threads with the same people.
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#001 : character index !
here you can find absolutely everything you need to know about my primary muses !! for my secondary muses, please acquire via asks !!
જ⁀➴ genshin impact !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ al haitham
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wriothesley
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ wanderer
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaeya
જ⁀➴ honkai star rail !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ gepard
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ caelus
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ jing yuan
જ⁀➴ kingdom hearts !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ riku
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ aqua
જ⁀➴ ffxv !
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ prompto
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ignis
.𖥔 ݁ ˖ gladiolus
#𝜗𝜚 ┈ silly brain ｡#genshin impact#genshin impact roleplay#honkai star rail#hsr rp#ffxv rp#multimuse rp#multimuse roleplay
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Always the Muse always the Muse never the artist hands never stained with paint nor clay hands perfect and posed in the light eyes flashing always watching never doing never feeling the weight of divinity within them no creation to have my hands of rot no beauty have they ever made necklaces fall apart clay crumbles paint turns into a mix of blacks and browns never forming any shape that I wish it to create Gods above give me a chance to be the artist and no longer The Muse I am tired of always being the image and never the Creator always an angel never a God always eurydice following Orpheus being locked away for love always the other always the secondary the footnote at the bottom of the artist's page a glimpse into their life a paragraph in their book something to have been inspired by but of no great consequence someone no one reads of Gods Gods Gods I beg of you muses muses why must I always be the outlier my hands too clumsy to hold a paintbrush yet too strong to gently mold clay I cannot bring the shapes in my mind the words and speech and soft prose to life Frankenstein's monster a creation of Half-Life half dead something which should not be brought about that is the works of my hand must I always be that which is created after but never thought of I will always be the asterisk on a sentence the index in the back of the book something overlooked but perhaps one day someone will find my mark and taken interest perhaps someone will want to know my life my story my words how I felt how I thought and not just what the artist thought of me how I wish to be that artist and to create beauty not just for myself but for that which I see I wander art galleries in awe hands shaking desperate to touch to feel to know how they created I copy their movements as best I can but it is sloppy a soiled attempt charcoal staining my hands like the ashes of death marring the beauty I want to create I want to design to develop to bring light to bring hope to bring the same wonder that others do with their art that I see everywhere and feel within the depths of my soul does my soul not deserve a chance to be known in that way to be known through the works of my hand and my words yet both are stopped up like a cork being shoved into a bottle far too hard far too deep to ever be pulled apart to ever be pulled out the tweezers I use cannot dig deep enough to uncork myself to let free to let those actions and words roam like a paintbrush swelling over an empty canvas bringing life yet all I seem to bring is jagged shapes an abstract works muses please do not resign me to your fate let me be the artist the artist the artist Gods let me be the artist
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Muse in and out sliding page layers
Plan out your pages to decide how many you'll need.ġ. It's very similar to topics and sub topics in the last section. The secondary level pages are pages that relate to their top level parent. Your site's navigation is broken down into levels:Īs you can see in the diagram above, the Home, About, Learning Pages, Supplies, Bracelets, and Contact pages are our top levels. In other words, these are the pages we want showing in our navigation system when someone lands on our Home page. It's a very important part of your site, so it's also important to plan for it, which we've already done. Now it's time to take those plans to Muse CC and make them a reality. This is where your navigation system comes into play. Your site's navigation system is how the people that come to your site will get from one page to another. Most people that come to your site will land on your home page, or the first page of your site. By default, this page is always named the index page.īut how will they get to the other pages of your site? You'll need a backup to your site if anything happens to the original file such as corruption or changes that you decide you no longer want to make. Create backups on a regular basis as you work on designing your website. Deselect the file, then right click and select Paste. Rename the file using the current date so you know when you created the backup. Click the file to select it, then right click and select Copy. To create a backup of your site, go to the location where you saved your site. To do this, go to File on the Menu bar, then Save Site As (File>Save Site As). Saving and Backing Up Your Siteīefore you go any further, let's go ahead and save the new site you've created. You'll use Plan view to create pages and Master pages. It will also play a big role when you start to create your site's navigation system. Take a look at the enlarged snapshot of the Plan view interface below. Familiarize yourself with its features. Plan view is where you will plan your site. You'll then see the Plan View in Muse CC. The Plan view is one of four views in Muse CC. In the Padding section, specify the padding. The padding is the space from the border of a column to the contents. The margins are the space from the border to the elements on your page. In the Margins section, specify your margins. Specify how many columns you want, as well as the width of the columns (measured in pixels). Next, specify the page width and the minimum height for the page. You can choose desktop, tablet, or phone. In this box, first choose a layout in the Initial Layout section. You'll then see the New Site dialogue box. Go to File in the Menu bar, then click New Site, as shown below. Click Site under Create New on the Welcome Screen.Ģ. To create a new site in Muse CC, you can do one of two things.ġ. Of course, the result will be a more professional, organized site. However, it requires a little more planning before you start to use the program, if you want to use it successful and without headaches. In other words, it walks you through the steps that go into designing a website, and it does so more than any other program out there. Muse CC gives you a lot of tools to plan your site so that the design goes easier.
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Okay, I promise this is my last personal post spam ( maybe... ), but I found this actor after watching The Nun--he plays Frenchie. His name is Jonas Bloquet and I gotta tell you, if Loki and Fandral ever had a son, 10 out of 10 it would be this boy. That’s all. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.
@fandralxthexstabulous - don’t mind me, just tagging you for reasons
#outofmagic#fandralxthexstabulous#c; fandral#( side muse ) fandral#index; loki#filed under; inspiration#filed under; likes#index; mun#filed under; mun things#index; secondary muses#filed under; fandral#( ship ) loki x fandral
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Fic: Midnight in the Desert 1/1
Title: Midnight in the Desert
Summary: Coffee + tiny bladder + long motorcycle ride = the best sex of your life
Rating: Smut, fluff, fun sexy times. My usual fare, you know what’s up.
Pairing: Captain ‘Sy’ Syverson x YOU (AU)
Companion piece to The Road to Paloma
‘I have to pee!’
You leaned against Syverson’s broad back and shouted at him above the roar of the bike’s engine.
He turned his cheek against the wind.
‘What?!’ he shouted back. ‘Again?? We just stopped an hour ago.’
‘I got a tiny bladder!’ you laughed as he decreased the bike speed.
It was easier to talk now that the warm night air had stopped whipping away your words. You nuzzled fondly against his shoulder and eased your hands down over his belt buckle.
‘There ain’t a place for miles,’ he said and lay his hand over your hands. ‘Can you hold it?’
You thought a moment and although that second cup of truckstop hazelnut coffee was a surprising delight to the senses, it was a mistake currently wreaking havoc on your bladder.
‘I cannot. Nope, not in the least,’ you replied and left it up to your problem solving husband to figure it out.
Up ahead on that long black stretch of barren backcountry Arizona road stood a high-mast sodium light which cast a broad oval of yellowy illumination across the road. Syverson slowed the bike even more and drew close to the tall wood pole. You peered up at the ring of industrial bulbs and then down at the shadowy dirt area just at the rim of bright light.
When he shut off the engine the world plunged into a kind of silence that only an evening on an empty road in the middle of a desert could create. Nothing but crickets, and the occasional nocturnal animal cry. You liked it.
Syverson kicked the bike onto the stand and let the machine ease to one side. He got off it and turned to face you as he thumbed through his mobile.
‘No signal,’ he grumped and then pointed to the saddle bag near your thigh. ‘Get out the map. Let’s take a look.’
You did as you were told. He always kept a big book of state maps in the bag for when the online maps failed. You paged through it, landed on the appropriate state and after a quick skimming search, you put a finger on a thin jagged red line.
‘Highway 373,’ he said, looking down the length of your finger and rubbing his hand over his beard. ‘Yeah, see? Town’s at least another 60 miles.’
With your finger still on the map, you looked up at him and pouted. Syverson smiled fondly and used the tip of his index finger to push up your helmet visor so that he could see your eyes. He stroked the edge of his thumb back and forth against your cheek.
‘Sure you can’t hold it?’ he asked in a tone that said come on baby you can do it.
But you shook your head and unstrapped your helmet. He removed his own in response. Might as well get comfortable.
Handing yours to him, you rummaged about in your rucksack and made a noise of triumph when your fingers closed about a small plastic baggie. You pulled it out and held it up.
One of the most valuable tips that you learned from women who were constantly on the road was that a ‘fuddy’ or a female urination device was a godsend and a life saver.
Yours was pink.
‘Looks like your girl is gonna have to make do,’ you said and groaned as your bladder protested the exertion when he helped you climb off of the bike.
‘Awright,’ he said. ‘Don’t accidentally piss on anything that I’m gonna have to fight, okay?’
‘Always my knight in shining armour, Sy,’ you called over your shoulder walking to the edge where the darkness met the light.
He laughed and sat with his rear against the seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
‘Just do it where I can see you,’ he said.
You stepped across that hard bright line and into the pale darkness.
It seemed cooler there for some reason and you strained to look into the distance. The moon had gone in behind grey streaky clouds and backlit the jagged mountain range in the distance. You glanced back at the man leaning against the bike. He was still aware and watching and that comforted you.
Always your protector.
Unzipping your loose heavy canvas trousers, you pressed the rubbery funnel into place and relieved yourself into the dirt.
As the pressure subsided, your mood lifted and the thought of maybe another coffee didn’t sound so bad. Drying yourself and the funnel with a little bogroll, you tucked everything back into the baggie, righted your clothes and returned to the bike.
Syverson’s keen gaze skimmed over you.
‘Better?’ he teased.
You stored your bag into the rucksack and stood back to look fully at him.
‘You’re turning into a grizzly, you know that?’ you asked fondly, reaching up to run your fingers over his beard and then up over his jaw and to the back of his neck.
‘I thought you liked me like this,’ he replied in his easy joking manner.
He caught his thick facial hair between his thumb and forefinger and gave himself a thoughtful stroke. You smiled and reached up to gently caress the back of his well shaped head with both hands. His eyes softened immediately and a knowing look crept into his warm gaze.
‘What are you tryin’ to do?’ he asked.
There was that soft, gentle laughter in his voice that you loved so much. It was the sound that had come to mean that he was settling in to play your game.
You caught the corner of your lower lip between your teeth and looking away you lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
‘What?’ you asked innocently, ‘I’m not doing anything.’
Syverson hooked his thumbs into the side belt loops of your trousers. He drew you closer but when you resisted he shot you a quizzical expression.
No play? asked that expression.
He looked nearly betrayed that you would deny him access to the trouble he so dearly wanted to get into. He wanted to get into you.
You moved a few steps away and when you held his full and undivided attention, you unzipped your trousers. With an insolent pause to gauge his reaction, which was immediate and intense, you shimmied, let them drop and then stepped out of them. You wore his long tee shirt, and when the trousers dropped, the hem of it fell against your bare upper thighs, covering you.
Syverson made a low, greedy noise in his throat. He grabbed you by the waist and in a smooth motion, he straddled the bike’s seat, and swung you effortlessly into the air before planting you firmly astride his lap with a solid thump.
You felt him move against you as he shifted in the seat and the tough material stretched taut across his muscular thighs scraped along the tender flesh of your inner thighs. A pleasurable shiver rushed through you and you put your hands flat on his heaving chest. Sy wet his lips and looked up at you. There was want and heat and desire in his blue eyes and your lips curved into a delighted smirk.
This man, this beast of a man was yours and yours alone to do with whatever you pleased.
‘I’ve never met a woman who was so exciting,’ he groaned, voice quiet, as if he didn’t want to break the spell you’d woven over him.
You took the compliment in stride. Leaning in, you opened his mouth with your tongue and slid your hand down to his belt buckle. When you drew back, he looked down the length of torso and watched in breathless panting silence as you unbuckled his trousers and eased out his stiffening cock. You glanced at him, noting the colour rising high in his cheeks as he shuddered, put his head back and moaned.
He slid up the lower edge of your tee shirt and massaged your bottom rhythmically, eagerly as you stroked him once, then again, curving your fingers around his thick girth and teasing his glistening head with your thumb.
‘Yeah, baby. Good girl. Just like that,’ he groaned. ‘Oh, yeah, you know what I like.’
You warmed with the pleasure at being praised by him.
And gleefully, you twisted your slick fist and he arched, and tightened his grip on your hips.
‘C’mon baby, c’mon… you’re teasing me.’
I love to tease you baby, I love how you respond to me.
With his big hands supporting you, you rose to your knees opening yourself to him and you whispered his name when he undulated and pushed up into your sweet quivering heat.
As usual, you were unprepared for him, unprepared for the size of him. But you relaxed, closed your eyes, and clenched when his cock slowly stretched you to fit him.
Between his competent, loving hands, Syverson held you still and lifted his face so that you could kiss him, softly, gently, as if the two of you were hidden away in your bedroom, and not fucking like unrestrained lusty beasts by the side of a silent desert highway.
Sy thrust up hard into you, laying claim to you from the inside and an unnamed feral fire seared through you. You arched, sucked in a breath and your intentions of keeping quiet were obliterated. The throaty cry that erupted from you started but did not shame you.
A roll of your hips elicited the same response from him and you hissed with pain when he dug his fingers into your vulnerable flesh. But he soothed you with warm honeyed kisses and the promise of ever increasing delights. You clenched your thighs about him and Sy encouraged you to ride him harder and faster until you couldn’t withstand the plunging shudder that rocked you. Safe in the strength of his embrace, you surrendered to him, clutched at him and shuddered through the white-hot scalding gush of lust and molten fire through your veins.
Syverson held you against him until you finally stilled and draped yourself over him to cover his face with kisses.
After cleaning up and dressing, you settled yourself behind him again, wrapped your arms about his waist and rested your cheek against his shoulder. You gasped when the engine roared to life as the sudden vibrations shook you intimately and the sensations made you smile.
‘You ready?’ he asked, breaking you out of your muse.
You squeezed him.
‘Ready.’
A hotel room, a hot shower and another round were in order along with some downtime to rest. There was a secondary reason why you had to pee so much. Your husband was going to be a father.
-the end, you naughty little things. I love you ;D
Tag list: @lightsidecalling @omgkatinka @igotkatiepowers @the-soot-sprite @harrysthiccthighss @little-green-love @foxyjwls007 @angreav @maizyistrash @liquorlaughslove @supernaturallymarvellous @whiskey-cokenstuff @laketaj24 @october505 @inlovewithhisblueeyes @foodieforthoughts @wolvesandhoundshowltogether @singeramg @sapphirescrolls @emyearns @brandycranby @zealoushound @eldarwen333 @beck07990 @lunedelorient @henrythickcavill @kalesrebellion @angrythingstarlight @lavitabella87
#henry cavill#captain syverson#syverson#the witcher#geralt#clark kent#fanfic#henry cavill x you#captain syverson x you
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Proceedings of the Men Of Letters on Angels
The following text will examine the Biology, Culture, and Psychology of Angels. These creatures have not been observed since 1901 [See Recorded Angelic Sightings by Matt Powell, pg. 893] and remain mysterious. Many would suggest that Angels are presented well in religion and are covered in their entirety. On the contrary, many paintings from the 1700's and journals from the 1800's depict another side of Angels that show many contradictions. This text is meant to be a compilation of many of the different literary records of the Men of Letters American [A31d], British [B85g], Mongolian [M59u], and Egyptian [E93k] chapters.
Compiled and written by Sebastian Outlander of the Men of Letters British Chapter
1963
Biology & Physiology
Angels are beings that inhabit the waves of light in multiple parallel spaces, or dimensions. The theoretical reason that they are able to exist between spaces, is that they travel at too high a speed for humans or our technology to detect. It is assumed that the energy Angel's are made of is faster than light. Using this speed, a massive amount of Kinetic energy is formed and is possibly how Angels get their power. The light that makes up their incorporeal forms is often referred to as "Grace". [The Journal of William Greyson, The Murder of Grace (painting by Brianna Colt)] The collection of an Angel's Grace is know as a "True Form" as seen in both numerous journals and the Bible. [See Biblical Accurate Angels, sketches by Juliet Robinson] Angel True Forms are too bright for any one person to lay their eyes upon. There have been several accounts of people being found dead with their eyes burned out of their skull. Whether Angels were the cause of these deaths or not is still up to debate.
Angels can not show their true forms to the creatures of Earth but many take a mortal vessel to communicate. These vessels are usually devout followers of the Lord and will follow an Angel's word. Angels need to have the vessel's permission to enter, unlike demons who can possess a person unwillingly. [The Vessel (1875, Mia Partens)]. These vessels may or may not be able to contain the Angel's full power, and in that case, their body will start to disintegrate and their mind will be null and void. This is, in fact, more desirable than meeting an Angel out of their vessel. An Angel's true voice alone is able to shatter glass, make ear drums bleed, and shake the earth. Seeing an Angel's true form is securing a sure destruction, as the image can burn a victim's eyes, and even brain, out of their skull.
Angels are known to be more like soldiers than expected. The Men of Letters Egyptian [E93k] chapter recovered a silver blade with markings of an ancient language. Upon further investigation, it was discovered to be Enochian, the language of the Angels [See Angelic Culture and Rankings] . The blade of the Angel is safely stored in the Egyptian [E93k] chapter house [Building 4, Row 28, 13b]. Other weapons have been recovered from dig sites across the globe. A long sword believed to be used by a subset of Angels [details unknown, American chapter, Main bunker, Room 24, 58c], a curved spiral blade believed to be used for ceremonial reasons [British chapter, Chapter house, A37b], and a peculiar spear also carved with Enochian [Stolen from the American chapter house in 1958]. Angels are believed to be fierce fighters, and precise in their attacks. According to the Daily Musings of a Wanderer, [Mary Wanderer, 1253] a female Angel was able to throw a silver blade around 50 feet and hit the direct center of her target. It is unknown if this Angel was trained for ranged weapons or if she had the same skill as the rest of the Host. [The Heavenly Host, all Angels known in heaven]
One of the oldest books that has been acquired by the Men of Letters is an untitled journal from both an unknown author and unknown date, although our scientists believe that it dates back to before Christ. This book contains information on Angel wings and culture and was discovered somewhere in Africa by townsfolk. A few of the illustrations have been recreated for this index, so in event of disaster, the information in the book will not be lost.
Angel wings are mostly held in the Ether and are rarely brought into our plane. Although they are rarely brought here doesn't mean they can not be. It is unsure how an Angel does this, but a common theory is that they either use an Enochian spell or that they are intrinsically able to control what plane their wings are on. An Angel is extremely vulnerable while their wings are out, so it is understandable that it is a rare occurrence.
The diagrams that have been found [The unknown book, A Complete Study of Angels (1901, Lily Sunder)] are almost exact to the structure of bird wings. It can be assumed that God created birds to mimic his first creation. The diagram shows that Angel wings have primary feathers and secondary feathers, primary coverts and secondary coverts, marginal coverts, and an alula on each wing. While each of the individual parts of the wing are depicted on the diagram, each section will be described in detail.
The largest feathers at the tips of the wings are grouped as the primary feathers, which help the Angel gain thrust. The long feathers on the rest of the wing are called the secondaries, which help the Angel gain lift. The next layer of feathers up is called the covert. The primary coverts cover the primary feathers and the secondary coverts cover the secondary feathers. The top most layer is called the marginal coverts. All sections of coverts are meant to stream-line the wing as to reduce the amount of drag. The alula is the thumb-like feather that is used during flight to lessen the speed of sharp angles and dives.
According to the text, Angels have created a culture around their wings, [See Angelic Culture section of text] as many have different shapes, sizes, and even colors. Not all Angels have white wings like many paintings portray them as. Each color represents a different personality trait, some being more common than others. The book goes into detail on what each color means. It is unsure if this is accurate or not. Below is the paraphrased section on wing colors from the text.
"White represents Heaven and purity, shades of purple represent logic and the ability to use it well, red represents anger and a tendency to lash out, yellow represents bravery and fearlessness, the lightest blue represents intelligence and one's ability to use it in battle, and silver represents loyalty. All of these colors are the most common among Angels.
Indigo represents an Angel's resourcefulness, orange represents an Angel with a cunning nature, dark green represents stealth, jade represents an Angel's stubborn nature, and cyan represents high prowess. These colors are uncommon wing colors in Heaven.
Dark brown represents Earth, rose represents ruthlessness, coral represents power and pride, tan represents compassion, and the darkest blue represents curiosity. These colors are rare and not seen often in Heaven.
Gold, grey, and black are rare enough that only a handful of Angels are known to have them. Gold may represents a flair for the dramatics in such a way that an Angel would go above and beyond to impress. The only Angel known with this coloration is the Archangel Gabriel. Grey is believed to be independence and doubt, as it is noted that before an Angel fell, grey feathers were seen mixed in with their normal colors. Black is the most unknown color. According to the unknown book, Angels have differing opinions on what it means or what causes it. Black could represent an Angel who has been to the deepest pits of hell, or could be what a Fallen Angel's wings would be. Rebellion was also noted frequently."
Angels can display multiple colors at once, or can change their colors during their next molt. Each Angel has a slightly different molt period. It is said that "An Angel will shed their grace of physical form every millennium and begin anew with colors unable to be perceived by the humble human mind." [Life of Light (1534, Leo Morris)] The estimate of one-thousand years between molts may be 100 or more years off, depending on the individual, the state of an Angel, or the inevitable change of an Angel's colors.
Angelic Culture and Rankings
Angels have been a prominent piece of religion for centuries, and many different types and ranks have been presented. Some put the Powers as the highest rank, others have Principalities, while some have Archangels. [Rings of Heaven (1904, Anthony Stine), Angelic Omens (1800, A.Z. Fell), The First (1734, Eve Heartt)]. When averaging all media in the Men of Letter's possession, we can create an accurate ranking system.
Archangels are the highest ranking Angels and the first to be created. There are four documented Archangels. Gabriel, Raphael, Michael, and Lucifer, who was cast out of heaven. The next rank is Seraphs or the Seraphim. They are the commanders and leaders of Heaven's army. There are different sub-categories within the Seraphim, similar to those who lead battles and those who order the battles to be fought. Then comes the common ranking of "Angel". They are the soldiers, the writers, and the guards. They are meant to fill any role given to them. The lowest ranking Angels are the Cherubs, as they are the ones meant to deal with humans and human relations.
Within these ranks many Angels will create some form of sibling bonds during molt. Molting is believed to be quite painful and difficult to deal with, so Angels will help each other. The painting labeled "The Bond" [1634, Paul Theos] depicted two Angels sitting while one is combing through the other's feathers. Outside of molting, it is believed that the partners will fight together and spend much time in each other's company. From a first-hand account of an Angel [Host, (1102, Akobel)], it is known that Angels see each other as siblings. Molting partners seem to have a closer sibling bond with each other then with the rest of the Host.
Due to Lily Sunder's book [A Complete Study of Angels (1901, Lily Sunder)], we now know more about the way Angel's age and train, although it is much different then how humans grow. Because Angels are created from God Himself, they are incapable of being infants or children. The youngest Angels are referred to as "fledglings" when they are first created. Fledglings are not children but are still inexperienced in relation to their older companions. Any fledglings that were created were positioned with an older sibling, to help train, teach, and care for them. The reason that these Fledglings had older siblings to begin with is that not all Angel's were created at the same time. There were multiple generations of Angels created. The first Angels were the Archangels, as they are God's oldest and they represent power. The second generation, or first choir, was meant to represent defense. The third generation, or second choir, was meant to represent agility. The fourth and final generation, or the third choir, was meant to represent endurance. Eventually there were no new fledglings created and the ones that did exist grew older. Today, fledglings are essentially an extinct species.
The fledgling's guardian would care for their needs, help with the first molts, and teach them how to fight and follow orders. Fight training would include training in defense, offence with weapons such as spears and swords, battle strategy, and learning about their enemies, such as demons and monsters. Not all fledglings would be warriors and commanders, but all would receive basic training and knowledge. Many of these Angels would become archivists and shepherds. In regards to care, the guardian would show them how to take care of their wings, help them heal any injuries, and teach them how to fly and properly use their powers. Molting would also be taken care of by the guardian until the fledgling could find a molt partner.
Angels are known to have both the first spoken language and the first written language. It is known as Enochian. The Angels have many weapons and tablets carved with this language. It is unknown what these carvings and texts mean, as no one can decipher them. All songs and communication between Angels is conducted in Enochian, although they understand all of the worlds later languages.
Psychology
Not much is known about how an Angel's mind works, or even how much free will they display. Their culture is based upon worship of God and following orders. Loyalty is an important trait in Heaven, and is rewarded. The Archangels are the highest rank, and by that default, they are the ones depicted to have the most autonomy. There is no room for mistakes in Heaven and it has been seen that free will creates disorder in many cases.
Although loyalty is desired and autonomy is frowned upon, there are Angels who dislike the system of Heaven. These Angels are referred to as the "Fallen". Angels who wish to have more free will can flee from the host to Earth in what seems to be two ways. An Angel can flee to Earth and take a human vessel and use the many Angelic wardings to help avoid the Host. The second way is more dangerous and precarious. An Angel can rip their own Grace out to be born as humans with no memory of Heaven. This has not happened often according to the book Host. [1102, Akobel] The Fallen have been associated with black wings and Lucifer although only one of which is remotely true. The few Angels that have fallen have been seen with a few black feathers, but there is no guarantee they are working with or for Lucifer.
There is much more information now then there was back a hundred years and it is much easier to find. Although an Angel may never step foot on this planet again, it is a curious thing to learn about their culture and biology. They are celestial creatures we may never understand completely, but we live in their world. It is my hope that this text can be of use to understand both Angels themselves and spell work that revolves around them.
-Sebastian Outlander
This work is inspired by many wing fics and Flight by northernsparrow.
#supernatural#supernatural lore#Spn#spn lore#supernatural headcanon#angel headcanons#angel lore#men of letters#this is a project ive been working on for a while#and im so excited i actually finished it#its basically a collection of my angel headcannons#but in a outsider pov#i might make another post showing the details and nods to the show and a little easter egg#i just hope someone finds the interesting or enjoyable
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38 with Mat
from the Winter/Christmas Writing Prompts list
38. “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss.” 🎄
quick note: this one is prob a bit longer than the others will be. I just L O V E writing Sydney and Marty as secondary characters in Mat stories.
quick warnings: swearing, alcohol, super snowy powdery Christmas fluff
and, just for fun, song pairing: mistletoe by Justin Bieber (obviously)
_____
There really was no place like home.
After moving away to Los Angeles to attend USC for both undergrad and grad studies, you were finally back in New York. You hadn’t been able to resist the pull — it was almost as if, from all the way across the continent, you could feel the Atlantic tide receding and pulling you home along with it. For better or for worse, you belonged to the Empire State.
Sydney, your lifelong best friend and a New Yorker herself, was beyond ecstatic, as she had recently gotten engaged to her longtime boyfriend Matt, a hockey player, and named you her maid of honor. Planning a wedding — not to mention showers and bachelorette festivities — would be far easier, and far more fun, with you in the same zip code. Since moving back six weeks ago, you’d spent about ninety percent of your time with Sydney by your side, making up for lost time with the woman who had long been your other half.
So sweet, right? There was just one problem. Sydney wouldn’t stop trying to set you up with guys. She was insistent that you’d been single for too long — you’d broken up with your college sweetheart by the end of your senior year — and she made it her mission for you to find love again. And she, on her own, was bad enough — she’d already hooked you up with so many friends of friends that you’d lost count, and none had been interesting enough for a second date — but her fiancé conspiring right along with her made resisting them that much more difficult.
This particular night, she had lured you to the home she shared with Matt under the guise of having dinner with her family, when in reality, she was throwing a Christmas dinner party for Matt’s closest friends on the team. All of whom had — and brought — significant others. Except for one. What a coincidence.
Also coincidentally, his name was Mat, too, or so you were told — you didn’t quite believe Syd’s Matt when he told you that upon introducing the two of you.
“Mat with one ’t,’” he announced, one arm slung around Mat’s shoulders. The handsome, dark-haired man swallowed thickly and gave you his best polite smile — it was in that moment that you realized beyond a shadow of a doubt this was yet another set up.
Matt made a lame excuse about needing to check on Sydney in the kitchen and snuck away after some brief pleasantries, but not before blatantly nudging your much-smaller frame toward New Mat. You gave Matt a menacing glare before recovering, standing a safe distance away from New Mat, leaning against the wooden beam behind you to keep you steady.
“So, Mat with one ’t,’ how long have you played with the ever-obnoxious Matty?” you asked, trying to play it cool.
Mat laughed easily. Damn, he had a nice laugh — the kind that made his pretty eyes crinkle at the corners. Nice hair. Nice teeth — perfect fucking teeth. Wasn’t he supposed to be a hockey player? Wait, what was he saying? Something about Seattle, and the draft, and… now you were lost. You nodded slowly with a forced smile as you tried your hardest to focus on what he was saying. He was just so goddamn pretty.
Thankfully, Sydney’s call from the kitchen saved you from the embarrassment of not having heard a word this poor boy had spoken.
“Dinner’s ready! I’m really type A, as you all know, so I made little placecards for everyone at the table,” she announced to the group of ten, hands clasped before her as Matt snaked an arm around her from behind and smiled proudly.
“Guess that’s our cue,” Mat mused. “Shall we?”
You threw him a grin and nodded, turning your back to him and making your way to the dining room.
On your way, you paused in front of your dear friend just long enough to grumble, “Assigned seats? Really, Syd?”
She clapped enthusiastically and smacked your ass as you passed her. “Yep! See you in there, champ!” she exclaimed as you heard frantic whispers exchanged between Mat and Matt. You couldn’t hold back your snicker, and as you glanced over your shoulder, Mat gave you a strained smile. You shook your head bemusedly and turned to the table to find that, to no one’s surprise, you and Mat were indeed to be seated side by side at one end of the table. You cleared your throat and nodded toward the cards bearing your names.
“Subtle, no?” you joked, causing Mat to blush pink. He choked out, “Ah, yeah. You gotta love them.” Then, he pulled out your chair and motioned for you to take a seat, which, as luck would have it, Sydney and Matt caught just in time because they were bringing in the food on serving dishes at that very moment. Their eyes sparkled and Sydney looked like she may self-destruct out of sheer joy as you sat down and thanked Mat. You gave her an icy look and she visibly retreated, holding herself back from making a complete scene.
“Okay, dig in!” she said instead as she sat down across from you.
Dinner was incredible, as usual — while your talents lacked in the cooking area, Sydney had always been an outstanding chef. Even more, you enjoyed the conversation, which was mostly inclusive of everyone at the table, save for the occasional chirp Mat secretly muttered in your ear about Matt or Anders, making you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a giggle as Sydney looked on smugly. Meanwhile, whenever you and Sydney would say the exact same thing at the same moment or finish the other’s sentence, Mat would look to Marty, who would only raise his eyebrows and nod, confirming Mat’s suspicion that these two were always this in sync. Mat found it endearing. He adored Syd — if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have agreed to come here tonight when she told him, “There’s someone I want you to meet…” — and already, he saw countless similarities in the two of you.
After he’d helped you clear the plates and load the dishwasher for your hosts, you and Mat settled onto a couch in the farthest corner of the living room, near the Christmas tree, while the others gathered in the center of the space, loudly entertaining themselves. As you curled your feet underneath yourself, you didn’t miss how Sydney reached for a nearby remote and slowly flickered on the fireplace right beside you and Mat. Yet again, you shot her a killer look that she pretended not to see as Mat smiled, amused at how flustered you were by Sydney trying to further set the mood.
“So how long have you known Syd?” he asked as he took another swig from his beer bottle, attempting to get you back on track. “Has to be a while. I swear I’ve never seen two friends who were more alike.”
You tucked some hair behind your ear and let out a breathy chuckle. With anyone else, you were ever prepared to skirt that question and quickly move on to another subject. But with Mat, it was nice knowing you really didn’t have to.
“Yeah, my whole life, actually,” you answered, a smile on your face at the thought. Your eyes flickered up to his as you added, “My dad played for the Jets... with Boomer while he was there.”
Mat’s brows quirked noticeably, but not in the familiar way that made you feel like he was about to ask you to FaceTime your dad or get an autograph from him. Because he was a professional athlete himself — which was ironic because you’d sworn up and down your whole life that, because of the lifestyle you saw your dad and his teammates, not to mention their families, lead, you’d never fall for anyone who played sports for a living. Even when Sydney insisted with a shrug after settling down with Matt, “It’s not that bad.”
“No way,” Mat said with a casual laugh. “That’s awesome. What position did he play?”
“Uh, receiver,” you replied. “So he and Boomer were tight. Our moms hit it off right off the bat and have been best friends since. Since then, we’ve always vacationed together, ended up living in the same neighborhood after they both retired. I’m three years younger than Syd and I was basically like her shadow. Still am, I guess,” you added with a smile.
Mat nodded, his eyes never leaving your face as you told the familiar tale. “I think that’s awesome though,” he spoke. “You guys could be sisters I feel like. You act just like her. Plus Marty says you’re the only friend of hers who’s kicked him out of bed so you could sleep with her.”
You threw a hand to your chest and your head back laughing at that, and Mat’s heart soared at being able to elicit such a reaction from you himself. You pointed a gold-polished index finger at him and admitted, “He tells no lies on that one.”
Just then, you caught Mat’s unabashed gaze, which had shifted from well-mannered and nonchalant into something deeper, something... affectionate. You swallowed, casting a downward glance at your lap, and swirled the ice cubes in your otherwise empty highball glass.
“I need a refill,” you said with a nervous giggle. “You want anything?”
Mat looked all too pleased with himself at your offer, and he nodded. “Sure, yeah, another beer would be great. Thank you,” he said. You smiled and nodded as you turned away and headed for the kitchen.
Ever the subtle one, once again, Sydney, who had been shamelessly watching the two of you from her perch in Matt’s lap across the room, stumbled over Jax’s paw as she bolted to the kitchen island where you now stood. You blinked at her wildly and said, “May I help you, Sydney Irene? You nearly wounded your poor dog.”
“So,” Sydney sang, ignoring your question completely as she leaned back against the kitchen counter, propping her palms on the edge and looking much more smooth than she had just a moment ago. She waggled her eyebrows at you before continuing. “Whadd’ya think? He’s cute, right?”
You scoffed. “Sydney—“ you began in a warning tone as you reached for the rum, but were interrupted before you could speak another word.
“If you hate him, it was Matt’s idea,” she deadpanned, then allowed a mischievous grin to stretch along her painted red lips as she cocked her head. “But if you like him, it was mine.”
You rolled your eyes as you poured yourself another rum ginger, ignoring the flush you could feel creeping up your chest and neck under Sydney’s scrutiny.
“You’re blushing! You do like him!” Syd squealed as she poked at your side, thankfully making an attempt to stay quiet as the guys, Mat included, carried on noisy shenanigans in the family room before you.
“Sydney, stop! I just met him,” you tried to argue, turning away from her. It was Sydney’s turn to roll her eyes.
“Like that matters. I fell for Matt like—“ she snapped her fingers for dramatic effect, “—that. And look at us now.”
You pursed your lips to the side. You couldn’t exactly argue that. With no quick comeback coming to mind, you stirred your drink, took three generous gulps — as Sydney watched, wide-eyed — and licked your lips before sighing at her.
“Well, fine,” you grumbled as you opened the fridge and grabbed a fresh beer for Mat. “Let’s not keep the boy waiting then.” You sashayed away from your friend who, spinning away from you, quickly squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her fingers before turning back and following behind you.
Mat thanked you profusely for the drink as you returned to him. Now he sat among his teammates, and Sydney sat back in Matt’s lap as you took the seat beside Mat on the opposite couch. You noticed how he immediately leaned back and comfortably stretched his arm across the cushion behind you, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t inch a little closer then. It briefly occurred to you that you were drawn to him in the very same way you’d been drawn back home not long ago.
He felt like home. Already.
And soon, after a few hours more of merrymaking, Mat never leaving your side, the other couples had all headed for home. You four who remained had played several rounds of euchre and sang and danced to half a dozen Christmas carols before you realized how late it was. Knowing you’d had too much rum and wouldn’t be fit to drive, you’d already established that you’d stay in Sydney’s guest room — or maybe kick Matt out of the master. Regardless, you were staying put. But Mat, reluctantly, was leaving — the boys had practice in the morning.
“I guess I should go,” Mat sighed after a long round of goodbyes. Matt and Sydney gave him one last hug and retreated to the far side of the spacious room, aiming, of course, to leave the two of you to your own goodbye.
You nodded. “I guess you should,” you said, caught off guard by the twinge of sadness in your tone. “I’ll walk you out.” Mat smiled and turned toward the front door, and your heart truly may have skipped an actual beat when he glanced back at you and reached his hand out for you to grab. You did so, biting down on your smiling bottom lip as you followed him down the hall into the entryway, acutely aware that, if Sydney and Matt were indeed watching — of which you had no doubt — they could still clearly see you.
But when Mat pulled on his shoes and stood up straight again, stepping slowly, so slowly, closer to you, all you could think about was how hard your heart was thumping against your ribcage. You looked up at him in anticipation, and he smoothed his hands down the sleeves of your sweater softly.
“I had a really, really nice time tonight, you know,” Mat spoke. You had to remind yourself to breathe as the sincerity of his voice flooded your senses and his warm, honey-flecked eyes pierced through you. “Tonight was honestly the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”
You beamed — how could you not? “Yeah?” you asked incredulously. Mat nodded.
“Yeah. In fact,” he cleared his throat. “I was wondering if maybe, uh, you’d want to go to dinner with me sometime. Like maybe this Sunday night, after we play?”
You felt yourself grinning like an idiot, yet had no control.
“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Yes. Of course. I’d love that.”
Mat blew out a long breath and chuckled nervously. “Thank God,” he added as you both dissolved into a fit of giggles. You stepped closer to him and smelled his clean, woodsy cologne, inadvertently breathing it in. Mat came nearer, too, and tentatively reached his hands around to your lower back. “It’s a date then,” he spoke, his voice lower now, gravelly. You swallowed — hard — and gave a nod.
“It’s a date,” you echoed.
You simply stood in one another’s presence for a few long moments, smiling giddily at each other, before Mat sighed once more and glanced toward the door.
“I really don’t wanna go, but I—“
“No! Syd, just leave them be,” Matt suddenly whispered sharply to his fiancé — who seemed to have literally leapt up from the couch — though there was no point in whispering at all because you still heard him loud and clear. Jumping up behind Sydney, Matt easily wrapped her in his arms and clapped his hand over her mouth just as she started to speak.
After wrestling for control of Matt’s hand, she finally pulled it away just long enough to call out, “You’re under the mistletoe so stop stalling and just kiss already!”
With one final “shush!”, Matt covered her mouth once more, though his entire body was wracking with silent laughter.
“Goodnight, kids!” Matt said tersely as he all but manhandled Sydney down the opposite hallway into their bedroom, the two of them erupting with laughter the second they closed the door.
You rolled your jaw and looked above you and Mat to find that, yes, indeed, there hung a very Sydney-like crystal ornament adorned with glittery mistletoe, suspended from the archway.
“Un-fucking-believable,” you muttered, resting your head against Mat’s chest as you both laughed anxiously.
But a moment later, Mat’s voice rumbled in his chest. “Hey...” he spoke. You took that as your invitation to look up at him, and when you did, you found him gazing at you even more tenderly than he had before.
“I mean, since there’s mistletoe and all.. would it be okay if I kissed you?” he asked. His hand found your cheek and you grasped his fingers in your own.
“Well,” you began, leaning further into him. “Only since there’s mistletoe.”
Mat breathed a chuckle and whispered, “Okay, good,” before his lips found yours in a toe-curling, snow-melting, heart-growing, hell of a Christmas movie kiss that you both found yourselves smiling into by the end.
“Wow,” was somehow all you could whisper when you finally pulled away for air.
“Yeah,” Mat agreed simply. “Wow.”
“It worked!” You heard the muffled squeal from behind Sydney’s closed door.
You rolled your eyes once again, hating Sydney in that moment, as Mat snickered and leaned in for another kiss.
Little did you know that a few years later, your dear, meddling Sydney would stand up at your side in front of a ballroom filled with your and Mat’s family and dearest friends and proudly tell the story of that cold late-December night when your love story with Mat began.
#my writing#writing prompts#prompt list#hockey writing#requests#christmas prompt list#mat barzal#mat barzal writing#mat barzal fic#mat barzal fanfic#mat barzal fanfiction#mat barzal imagine#mat barzal one shot#mat barzal fluff#mathew barzal#mathew barzal writing#mathew barzal fic#mathew barzal fanfic#mathew barzal fanfiction#mathew barzal imagine#mathew barzal one shot#mathew barzal fluff#nhl writing#matt martin#sydney esiason#sydney esiason martin
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The Book of Symbols: Beard
I’ve been meaning to give myself something to do in the morning that involves reading and writing, but isn’t journaling. Something meditative that isn’t meditation. Something to stand in for the gargantuan influx of media that I wake up and try to absorb each morning, which is such a terrible way to start the day. And also something that adds value to my practice, but which doesn’t “feel like work” or require me to be firing on all cylinders while I scrape myself together.
Also, perhaps most importantly, something that doesn’t need to happen every day in order to be worthwhile. Because that’s a major commitment, babes. And I’m not there!
But I do have this cinder-block-sized tome by Taschen called THE BOOK OF SYMBOLS: Reflections on Archetypal Images, which has been haunting me for years because it’s never been put to proper use. And what use might that be? It’s not explicitly clear, which is part of the book’s allure.
The editors have gathered hundreds of entries based on visual archetypes. These have been grouped into categories: CREATION AND COSMOS, PLANT WORLD, ANIMAL WORLD, HUMAN WORLD, and SPIRIT WORLD. The publisher has provided a ribbon bookmark for each of these, as well as a notched “thumb index” cut into the side of the book for quick reference. And then each of these categories is further reduced into several smaller ones. But there’s no table of contents — just a standard index, which is a lovely way to wander, or to hunt for something specific, but it’s not the same as just a numbered list of archetypes in the order presented, the absence of which has foiled me on several occasions.
But this doesn’t seem to be stopping Gisele... so what’s my excuse??
This book has been guilting me for quite a while, but I still hadn’t figured out how to use it. In addition to being an exquisite object, and seems incredibly valuable to the practice of divination, as a reference to help one recognize and interpret various symbolic elements, and I’ve wanted to create a method for dipping into it that would be akin to divination itself. However, it’s hard to flip to a “random” entry in an 800-page book.
So, I’ve decided to use a random number generator to pick an entry for me, to read that entry, and then write down a handful of notes to help it stick in my brain. This could take up ten minutes or an hour, whatever I have time for. And the only way to test it out is to test it out, which I did this morning!
I dunno if I’ll end up post all of my adventures in random symbolist musings, but I’m happy to show the one that I kicked off with.
BEARD (pg. 368)
Firstly, this was a more amusing beginning than expected, simply because “beard” is just a funny word to me, no matter the context. I always giggle at the part in Björk’s otherwise quite reverent “Cocoon” when she sings: “To inhale a beard / loaded with courage.” I guess most consider beards to be a perfectly normal thing to have on one’s face, but I’ve always found them rather preposterous to look at.
The book points out all the obvious associations with masculinity, which of course overlaps with ideas related to wisdom and sovereign power, even down to Egyptian rulers (including queens) who wore false beards or were portrayed with beards. But one part in the text that struck me referred to the way a beard naturally frames and emphasizes the mouth, and thus became associated with language, making it a symbolic feature of teachers, philosophers, and those “who work with the mind by means of words.”
This makes me wonder if there’s any overlap, symbolically, with lipstick; we’ve all read about the sexual connotations of presenting “flushed” or otherwise brightly colored lips, but additionally, by accenting or exaggerating the mouth, it’s also another way of assuming a mantle of adulthood and authority, encouraging others to pay attention when one speaks.
The book does highlight a beard’s potential for deception and concealment, but I was disappointed to find that they didn’t include the queer vernacular, in which a “beard” describes a woman who agrees to marriage or a relationship with a closeted gay man, as a way of disguising his homosexuality.
The article also neglects to highlight the uncomfortable fact that facial hair can be a universal trait among the sexes, depending on genetic or hormonal influences. It has become symbolically important for women to remove their facial hair as a condition of their womanhood (though many have ultimately declined to do so, and even incorporate it into their interpretation of femininity). This remains a common source of gender dysphoria in cisgender women.
Beards are considered a secondary sex characteristic, and as such, the inability of more naturally smooth-skinned people to grow a full beard is often presented as an indictment against their masculinity — one of those areas in which racism has colluded with sexism.
I’ve never had any interest in growing a beard and find it extremely itchy and uncomfortable past a certain point, not to mention that it significantly triggers my trichotillomania — I start attacking the various weird hairs and double-follicles (known as pili multigemini) until there are bald patches. And it should be noted that it can be very difficult to brandish both facial hair and lipstick effectively, because even when freshly shaved (which I rarely am) there’s a sudden change in texture of the skin around the mouth. Usually I’d rather have the gloss than the grizzle.
But as the gender binary breaks down further and bearded drag looks have become their own venerable tradition, we see much greater support for the idea that one can present both, uncovering additional symbolic layers in the apparent contradiction.
Anyhow, that’s it for now. More thrilling adventures in technologically-aided archetypal exploration coming soon!
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@perfectionist-prince
Carmine gaze settles on a perfect white flower petal fluttering down to land atop a familiar head of pink hair. Gingerly, so as not to break it, he plucks the petal up and holds it out for the other to see. “You know, Mitama,” Siegbert starts, “I have heard of an old Floralia tradition where, should two flower petals of the same color land atop a couple one directly after the other, they’re bound to be together for the remainder of their lives and should likewise share a kiss."
At that moment, movement in his peripheral catches his attention; another white petal glides through the air and lands gently on his shoulder. Taking it delicately between his fingers, the young prince hums contentedly while an abashed smile takes to his lips.
“I believe you know what this means, Mitama,” he says after a short moment.
Perhaps it was fate that allowed him to converse with the old wives in the marketplace and hear of the nearly-forgotten tradition or mere coincidence that their conversation caught his ear. Nevertheless, Siegbert lifts Mitama’s chin with index and thumb—something, he realizes, that is happening more and more often—and leans down to press their lips together in a sweet kiss (perhaps a little more sensual than it should have been).
It’s a belated realization to Mitama that this is, in fact, what drew her to applying to the academy in the first place. Covered with flower garlands, there is a newfound beauty to the grounds, magnifying the already gorgeous views from atop the cliffs that the monastery held a monopoly over. The scenery around them is of a beauty even Mitama finds herself struggling to describe, and the entire population seems infected with a soft warmth at the novelty and joy from such a festival.
Or perhaps that was just the cider she’d partaken in.
Either way, it was fully content and comfortable that Mitama found herself dozing off in the afternoon upon the secluded bench, head resting against Siegbert’s bicep. The prince himself did not seem to mind either, so Mitama was content to spend her time there with him until something or other called the two of them away.
When it turned out to be Siegbert calling out to her, she supposed it could have been worse. Mitama let out a slight whine as she raised her head, looking up at him curiously with a pout. The flower petal he cradled caught her eye, a split second of wondering where he caught it from, but it was secondary to the words that he said as he discovered another on himself.
Mitama left out a soft laugh and smiled at him. “Is that so?” The pull of sleep weighed down each of her words, heavy and slow but plainly amused. “And tell me, does that flower hold any sway over two companions simply sitting by each other?” She carefully plucks one of the flowers from his grasp, twirling it idly between her fingertips. “After all, I’ve heard no such implications towards more from you, Prince.”
Despite her words, she played nice as Siegbert titled her head, meeting his gaze with her own starry one. She would have to consider, she mused, what to say were such a conversation ever to be brought up.
For now though, there were no dire considerations to be given or serious responses to be given. Rather, she allowed her eyes to shut as he leaned in and the two played the part of the fortunate couple of an idle fairy tale. Another beauty of the monastery she would have to put to haiku later.
#((don't look at me I'm fond of them))#ic#siegbert support#perfectionist Prince#toafloralia2020#submission
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The most effective method to Find A Criminal Defense Lawyer With 7 Key Questions
You can't believe it's transpiring. There's a pit in your stomach as the cop begins coming toward you and articulates the words "I'm capturing you for a criminal offense."
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Your mind begins dashing with musings like " What on the planet am I going to do? How is this going to affect my life, opportunity, family, work? What would i be able to do to ensure myself? How would I choose the correct lawyer so I have the most ideal legal assistance?"
Unfortunately, this emergency is an opportunities for anybody. Blameless individuals are accused of violations because of various conditions, for example, innocent mix-ups, or enthusiastic, or malevolent activities by others. Good individuals likewise commit errors and choose some unacceptable game-plan in a troublesome circumstance.
Whatever the case is, you certain enough need the best portrayal you can get.
Out of nowhere Nothing is More Important
You understand that a conviction will effectsly affect your life so it's imperative to look for the best lawyer you can manage, regardless of whether you need an Oklahoma criminal protection lawyer (my state) or one who can speak to you in another condition of the U.S.
Furthermore, despite the fact that you are "under a lot of pressure" to hire somebody, this decision must be made with care. All things considered, if your life was undermined in a health related crisis, for example, requiring cerebrum medical procedure, you likely wouldn't need the least expensive specialist to perform it. Besides, you shouldn't choose a lawyer dependent on who charges the least. While, doesn't really mean you need to hire the most costly person.
How Are You Supposed to Pick a Criminal Defense Attorney, at that point?
Would it be a good idea for you to hire your brother by marriage home arranging lawyer, or the lawyer who dealt with your secondary school companion's separation? Shouldn't something be said about setting off to the business index and picking the lawyer on the principal page of the lawyer postings, or the law firm with a two page promotion?
I don't advocate any of those techniques for somebody accused of a criminal offense. The issue is that since somebody went to law school and got through the law oriented test, that doesn't mean the individual is successful and experienced in criminal safeguard. Many have never gone to a court.
All Lawyers Are Not the Same
In the clinical field there are specialists who spend significant time in specific pieces of the body thus, as well, numerous lawyers focus on only a couple zones of the law. There are simply such a large number of kinds of law for somebody to be a specialist in each territory.
Think of it along these lines. Do you truly think that somebody who invests the majority of their energy composing and arranging contracts for businesses would be as viable in the court as a lawyer with many years of involvement with criminal law?
Likewise, when you hire a specialist, you need to expect that the cost will be higher than recruiting another person with just a moderate measure of information or experience.
That drives us to:
7 Key Questions to Find the Right Lawyer for your Criminal Defense
1. The main question to ask would be just, what number years has the lawyer rehearsed criminal law.Someone with a reasonable number of long periods of involvement, for example, 10 years or more, would be liked. Your future is too imperative to even think about handing over your protection to another law school graduate.
2. The second question you'll need to become familiar with the response to will be the number of preliminaries has the lawyer taken care of. This is significant on the grounds that your lawyer ought to be comfortable and sure with the cycle. There are a few purported "criminal lawyers" who seldom, or never go to preliminary and are known as "settling lawyers". Ordinarily they aren't happy in preliminaries, and regardless of whether it isn't best for their client, they find an approach to settle without going to preliminary. The indictment can detect that dread of going to preliminary, which can detrimentally affect conceivable supplication expecting the client. Unquestionably, a lawyer who has attempted 50 to at least 100 cases will keep up a more grounded dealing position.
3. Something else you ought to decide is the quantity of jury preliminaries the lawyer has dealt with. Extra specialized topics are required in jury preliminary with features like choosing hearers, and realizing that how will generally be influential to jury individuals. As you can likely conjecture, more involvement in jury preliminaries is superior to less. In the event that your lawyer has taken care of 40 or 50 jury preliminaries, the person ought to have taken in a ton about procedure here.
4. While you can absolutely get some information about their experience, a surprisingly better approach to confirm that is through a dependable accreditation measure. A few states perceive specializations in various regions of law and if a lawyer qualifies as per the state's necessities, he can mirror that specialization in his promoting and publicizing materials. Notwithstanding, numerous states don't permit specializations (counting my province of Oklahoma). Luckily, there is a public accreditation accessible through the National Board of Trial Advocacy This is a thorough confirmation measure, requiring huge involvement with criminal preliminaries, a composed test, peer audit and recertification at regular intervals.
In the event that a lawyer has accomplished this confirmation, you host an impartial third get-together approval of her experience, rather than depending basically on what the lawyer says about her capacity.
5. Something different you ought to get some information about is the way and when the lawyer will speak with you. Utilize the main counsel (which is regularly free, anyway make certain to solicit ahead from time) to evaluate whether you will be agreeable and sure giving your case over to this person.
6. Try to inquire as to whether the lawyer you think you are recruiting will really be the person who is taking care of your case. This is significant on the grounds that a few firms will have you converse with a lead lawyer at first and afterward give your case to a more up to date lawyer in the firm to deal with. I believe a criminal accusation merits an accomplished and prepared lawyer, not somebody simply out of law school.
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