#instead of a brain these two are in my head
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18+ hoes (just smut. I didn’t mean for it to be this long. Oops.)
Just thinking about Eddie cleaning up after a game of dnd. You’re plopped down in his throne watching him collect the pieces, placing them carefully in the box.
You scoot back in the chair, lifting your skirt a little higher as you do just waiting to catch his eye.
You listen as he hums to himself, watching his brown curls bounce as he moves around the large table. He’s so pretty. He always is but especially in this dim lighting, the candlelight flickering in his brown eyes every few seconds. The whole thing an attempt to have a more theatrical atmosphere was quickly turning into setting the mood for the two of you.
You keep your eyes on him, watching his every move. Your eyes land on his hands. Metal rings adorning almost every finger. Fuck, those fingers. The thought of them inside of you makes you throb. Your mind being taken back to last night. His fingers deep in your cunt, the sounds of your slick loud as he fucked into you roughly. “Squeezin’ me so tight, sweetheart.” he groaned, curling his fingers with precision. “More, Eddie. P-please.” you had screamed making him grin as he worked in a fourth finger.
“Baby?” Eddie snaps in your face, shaking you from your little trip down memory lane. Your legs are crossed, thighs clenched together tightly as Eddie’s eyes roam your body slowly.
“Fuck, you look good in there.” he breathes, trailing his fingers down the side of the chair before hovering over you. He leans in, lips meeting your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he kisses it gently.
“My queen.” he hums, his warm lips working lower, long wet kisses down your neck. His calloused fingers work their way up your thigh, his breath hitching as he reaches your pussy.
“You little slut.” he chuckles deeply as he realizes you’ve got nothing on beneath your skirt, dropping to his knees in front of you.
“Mmm.. just for you, dungeon master.” you giggle playfully as he grins up at you.
His eyes darken suddenly as he pushes your skirt up above your hips roughly. “Such a pretty pussy.” Eddie rasps as his arms wrap around your waist, swiftly pulling you toward the edge of the seat.
He starts kissing you again, his lips coming halfway up your thigh, your skin so soft, bruising easily as he nips and sucks. Eddie loves the noises you make as he gets closer and closer to the top of your legs. One of his firm hands squeeze your upper thigh hard, pulling a moan from your lips that makes his cock strain against his jeans.
He lets out a low moan as he sees exactly how wet you are. “Always so ready for me, baby.” He smiles, deciding to tease you even more. He brings one hand up to your pussy, sliding a thick finger down your slit.
"You're so wet, princess. Gonna have to clean you up, yeah?” he teases with a smirk, his finger lightly tracing over your wet lips.
"Please.” you beg as Eddie moves his middle finger between your slick folds, just barely into your dripping hole.
He ignores your plea, removing his finger instead, sliding it up higher until it brushes your clit, making your body shudder.
"Please what, sweet girl? You don’t like the way I touch you?” Eddie taunts, his pretty lips curled into a slick smile.
"I- I do, Eds. But please… please don’t-” your brain can’t focus on the words as his finger continues teasing your sensitive little clit. Not enough to get you there, just enough to drive you crazy. You huff in frustration as you lift your hips, aiming to make contact with his fingers again.
Eddie slaps your pussy roughly making your head fall back into the hard wood of the throne as a sinful moan falls from your lips. “Words, sweetheart. You want me to stop?"
"No, fuck no. Don’t tease me, Eddie. Please. Need you.”
"What do you want me to do to you baby? Tell me."
"Just- fuck Eddie stop being a tease." you whine, looking down at him once again.
He chuckles then, sending vibrations through your core, making you even more wet. "Want me to eat that pussy, baby? Suck on your clit, while I fuck you with my fingers?"
"Yes. Fuck. Please Eddie. Need your fingers. Your mouth. Fuck me." you blurt out, not caring how pathetic you sound.
He licks his lips once, wetting them before he’s spreading your knees farther apart. He kisses your pussy. Small kisses at first. Teasing you further until you grip his chocolate curls, almost yanking them as you press him deeper into you. He picks up his tempo, sloppy wet kisses, moaning into you as he practically makes out with your pretty pussy.
"Oh fuck, j-just like that baby.” you chuckle breathlessly, keeping your eyes on him, finally getting the attention your pussy was aching for.
You bring your ankles around his shoulders, pulling him in even closer as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your ass. His long tongue dips in between your soaked folds, licking a long stripe from your hole back up to your clit. Sliding his tongue all around your pussy, tasting you, exploring every part before landing back on your entrance.
“You’re fucking leaking for me, pretty girl.” Eddie groans, his cock twitching, seeing you so wet for him only making him more feral.
He shoves his tongue in your pussy then, slowly pulling it out, making you gasp as he works it back inside, swirling it all around, coating his tongue with your sweetness.
Your eyes flutter shut uncontrollably as he continues tongue fucking you until you’re squirming around, almost slipping out of the chair causing Eddie’s fingers to cling to your hips, holding you in place. A grip so tight there were sure to be marks left behind.
“Eddie, Eddie please. Want more.” You breathe, a needy moan escaping as his tongue works back up to your clit, two fingers suddenly being pushed inside you, pumping roughly in and out of your tight pussy.
“Yes! Fuck!” you squeal as you take a tighter hold on his brown locks, bucking your hips, practically riding his fingers as he locks onto your clit, sucking roughly. You force your eyes open long enough to see Eddie’s brown ones watching you carefully, his plump lips still wrapped around your puffy clit, his free hand palming his cock through his jeans.
“Y-you look so pretty on your knees for me.” you purr, the unsuspected dominance surprising both you and Eddie, making his eyes roll into his head as his hand continues working in and out, slipping in a third finger as he fucks your drenched pussy with even more eagerness.
“You like that?” you test, your chest rising and falling rapidly as he brings you closer and closer. Eddie nods quickly, your clit still locked between his lips, his brown eyes looking up at you like a lost puppy.
“Feels so good, baby. Don’t fuckin’ stop. Wanna be a good boy and make me cum?” you push even further, Eddie loving every second of it, moaning loudly into your pussy. He pops off your clit, his lips glistening with your arousal.
“Yes. Anything for you. Fuck.” he pants breathlessly, his fingers driving into you at an insane pace, your back arching as you feel your body going higher and higher.
“Good boy. Such a good boy.” you barely manage to choke out before you lose control, your pussy clenching around his fingers, soaking his hand completely.
“Fuck yes. Cum for me, princess. Look so pretty when you cum.” Eddie praises before his face is back between your thighs, his tongue flicking over your clit again, sending even more pleasure throughout your body as you jerk against him, riding out every second of your orgasm.
Eddie slowly removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue as he cleans you up, your body shivering with every soft lick of his warm tongue.
Your thighs squeeze around his head as he dips his tongue inside one last time, drawing out every bit of your cum that he could.
He stands up kissing you roughly, making you taste yourself all over his tongue before he brings his fingers to your lips, slipping them into your mouth. You meet his eyes as you slowly suck them clean.
“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” Eddie mumbles drunkenly as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. You push him off of you lightly, standing up from the chair before shoving him down in your place. You can see the outline of his hard cock making you bite your lip as you drop to your knees, reaching for his belt buckle.
“Let me show you how obsessed I am with you, Eddie.”
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#Eddie Munson#eddie munson x fem!reader smut#eddie munson blurb
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I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 2
pt. 1
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve doesn’t exactly know when Eddie Munson became one of his best friends, let alone when he fell in love with him.
He supposes both things occurred between the end of the world, and Eddie’s back walking out the door for the last time, unbeknownst to anyone. Though, that is five years of time, who’s to say when it really happened.
Dustin will argue the friend part. He likes to think it was he who brought them together (it certainly wasn’t; in fact, it put a real bump in the road for them). Dustin also thinks, which Steve is more inclined to think is true, that the two of them had become friends during Eddie’s slow recovery and Steve’s guilt complex, which made him feel responsible for him.
Which—ouch, Dustin—but years of therapy would prove him right.
Little shit.
Dustin doesn't know about the love part, though, and Steve doesn’t think much of the party knows except for one or two of the perceptive ones.
Looking at you, Lucas.
Robin likes to argue that Steve doesn’t know when he fell in love with Eddie because Eddie was different from everyone else.
Steve puts everything into love, moves fast, falls hard, and ultimately gets crushed by his own passion. Steve doesn’t know how to take things slow or wait around for the right person.
Until he did, with Eddie.
Steve managed to have a slow decent into the madness of loving a man like Eddie Munson. And he never did anything about it, although he didn't mind. Steve was okay with just being friends and loving from afar.
Until they weren't even that, and Eddie was gone.
Steve can't think about that now, instead he should probably worry about the man himself breaking into his apartment at 3 a.m.
"Get. Out." Robin hisses, breaking Steve from his thoughts.
Suddenly, Eddie stands. His hands thrust forward in a placating nature, and nervous energy radiates off of him. "Robin, please—"
"No, Munson. You don't get to disappear from our lives for five years, and then break into our apartment!" Robin whisper shouts, the metal bat waving around in her grip.
Steve still hasn't said anything, still unsure of any of it is really happening. But he can't help but warm at Robin's fierceness.
She will go down swinging for Steve, even against someone she cares about.
Fuck, he loved her.
"Give me one good reason not to bash your skull in with this thing, Munson. I dare you!" Robin took the metal bat and pushed it into Eddie's chest.
Steve gets a good look at him as he stumbles backward. He doesn't look much different—well that's a lie. He does look different; more tattoos, more piercings and Steve is pretty surprised to catch him wearing anything other than a band tee. It is just so all quintessentially Eddie. The jewelry is all silver, any tattoo he got after 1986 appears to be in black and red ink only. Even his tee is still black despite the lack of a band on the front.
"Birdie, I don't think you should have Steve's bat in your hands, you're a bit dangerous." Eddie tries to grab the bat from her hands but Robin yanks it back.
"Oh, fuck you, Munson! You don't get to call me Birdie, and this is my bat. Steve's is wooden and full of nails and underneath his bed. You should know that, or has the last five years really rotted your brain?" Robin is now waving the bat around with gusto, nearly missing Steve's head at one point.
Trying to shake himself from his frozen state, Steve decides it is probably in everyone's best interest if he steps in.
"Robs." Steve speaks gently, hand on the bat as he slowly lowers it down. Her shoulders drop, the fight draining out of her in seconds. "It's okay."
It's not okay. Steve doesn't understand what's happening right now. But Steve is okay as long as he has Robin, and Robin has him. Steve hopes she understands that's what he meant.
Robin nods her head, and shuffles closer to him.
Steve takes a shaky breath, "What are you doing here, Munson?"
Eddie cringes at the use of his last name but doesn't comment. "Listen, I know it's weird me just stopping by suddenly—"
Robin snorts, "I wouldn't exactly call breaking in 'stopping by'."
Eddie shakes his head, ignoring her. Stray curls start to fall loose from their bun. "I just want to talk, for you guys to hear me out."
Steve rubs a hand down his face, he is getting too old for this stuff. Being blindsided, being surprised—being thrown sideways and upside down. Sure, twenty-nine isn't exactly old, but Steve has lived practically six different lifetimes by now. There is so much damage to him—physically and emotionally. He is supposed to be past nonsense like this.
Robin takes his silence as permission to snip at Eddie, "No. Go away, Eddie. You don't get to do that. Get out."
Eddie moves a step forward, he is now illuminated completely by the side table's light. He looks tired—good but tired. It's not the kind of tired you see of someone in distress, not the ache that comes along in the tunnel that has no light in the end. No, Eddie looks tired in the way that comes with healing. Like working hard exhaustion. As if coming home from a long but good day at work, and the night grows weary.
Eddie opens his mouth to argue, but Steve cuts him off. "It's fine, Robbie. It's late; let him crash on the couch."
Eddie's shoulders sag in relief, "Thanks, Stevie, we can talk—"
"No." Steve chokes out, moving his hand towards his throat so he can remember to breathe. "You don't get to call me that. And we're not talking about anything. You'll sleep here, but that's it. I might not want you here, but it doesn't mean I'm going to let you wander the streets at night."
"Steve, please—" Eddie reaches out his hands to touch Steve. It is most likely going to be a gentle touch, but Steve can't help the way he violently flinches.
Eddie looks taken aback, eyes wide and full of sadness. He pulls his hands back.
"No, Eddie." Steve grabs Robin's hand and starts to pull her to bed. She doesn't protest and instead leans into his touch. Steve turns over his shoulder to look at Eddie again. "You'll stay the night. It's not an option. But my morning? I want you gone. I don't want you to be the first thing I see after sunrise."
Steve turns quickly back around, ignoring the pained grunt from behind him.
Bypassing Robin's bedroom, Steve pulls them both into his. Robin doesn't question it and instead makes herself comfortable in his forest green blankets.
Steve quickly follows after, snuggling into the bed beside her. People have thought them weird over the years—always in each other's spaces and knowing every little thing about each other. Partners, friends, family—all of them had something to say about it, never even bothering to understand.
Well, except Eddie. Eddie appreciated it, accepted it. Adored it at times.
"Are you really okay with this, Dingus?" Robin whispers softly between them.
"No." Steve never lies to Robin; she'll know. "Not at all, but I'm not going to let him wander the streets, no matter what I loved him at some point. I don't let the people I loved, get hurt."
Robin squints in pity, "Loved?"
"Not now, Bobbie," Steve whispers.
Robin nods, "Besides, I'm pretty sure 'Ed Sloane' can afford a fucking hotel room."
Steve lets out a loud snort, it echoes throughout the room. "God, don't remind me. What a stupid fucking name."
The two of them dissolve into giggles, bumping their heads together. Under the covers, they clasp their hands together tight. "I just don't want you to derail your life, for someone who walked so easily out of it. I know you have that important lunch with Drew tomorrow."
Steve takes a breathe through his nose, "Yea, I do. But it'll be fine. He'll be gone before I'm even up. You know Eds, he's a runner. Wouldn't stop trying to prove it, in fact."
Robin's face is scrunched in pain, and her eyes pool with pity. It's as if she knows something Steve doesn't or sees something he chooses to ignore. She doesn't comment on it, though. Instead, she raises an eyebrow, "Eds?"
It isn't snippy or accusing. Her voice is soft against his cheek. Steve doesn't have the mental capacity to argue though. "G'night, Birdie."
"Goodnight, Stevie." She whispers.
Steve closes his eyes, knowing it will all feel like a dream tomorrow.
Steve is familiar with having dreams with Eddie in them.
🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ
more to come i promise, especially after your (loving demands). especially my mutuals who yelled at me in the tags and my dm's (it made my day).Part 3 is currently being typed up. Also might fuck around and make this a full-blown ao3 one shot; who knows.
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso
(please let me know if you don't want a tag, I had to guess by the comments, and sorry if you’re getting a random tag after posting, I had to fix the tag list cause tumblr is weird)
#okay so now it is a thing#no more idk i promise#also this has a happy ending i promise#steddie#stranger things#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#my writing#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates stobin#stobin#platonic with a capital p#steve and robin#I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind)#ao3#ficlet#angst#hurt/comfort
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Spencer was lying on his couch completely motionless, cradling a book into his chest, the same book that you had gifted him. His eyes were bloodshot from crying and a lack of sleep, it had been nearly two weeks since you passed, two weeks since he hadn’t been able to save you.
It was quiet in the apartment, usually the ticking sound of the grandfather clock could be heard in the background, but it hadn’t been wound in a good while and Spencer hadn’t noticed it. His mind was too busy playing back the last scenes of seeing you alive, a vicious cycle that he had no control over.
Sometimes Spencer swore that he heard your voice when he closed his eyes, it felt so lifelike that his eyes shot open and he frantically looked from side to side hoping, praying that all the events that took place were a horrible dream and that you were safe and still with him. However, when the silence was the only thing to be heard and he noticed that he was still wearing your cardigan, the hope came crashing down and his head hit the pillow again in a thud, it wasn’t real, it was his mind playing tricks on him again.
When his body gave in and Spencer finally fell asleep, his dreams were all filled with you. The two of you sitting at a table in a cafe, soft music playing in the background and the smell of the freshly brewed drinks filling your noses.
Spencer would slide his arm over the table to take your hand in his, but your hand would feel cold. The only time he was able to hold it was when he ran toward your lifeless body and took your hand in his to feel for a pulse that wasn’t there anymore.
Spencer would feel his chest tighten in his dream, but the image of you in his mind wouldn’t let him associate your passing with the last moments of seeing you alive. The dream version of you was determined to remind him of all the joyous times spent together instead, all the time spent sending each other letters, which later turned to phone calls. Spencer still remembers the first time he heard your laugh and how he knew that it would become one of his favorite sounds.
As time went on Spencer felt your hand getting warmer and the hold you had on him felt stronger. Spencer didn’t know what was going on, but the dream no longer felt like a dream, but as if it was a moment in real life. Your face was no longer hazy and he could clearly make out all of your features. He knew that this could be his final time seeing you and he wanted to treasure it as much as he could.
Eventually he woke up and saw that hours had passed, it was his first time having a proper sleep in weeks and he finally felt a bit lighter. What had happened made absolutely no sense to Spencer, it could’ve been his brain protecting him from any further emotional pain, or, maybe it was you coming to him in his dreams to tell him that you’re alright, whatever it was, he was thankful for it.
Taglist: @radioactiveinvisible @whoisspence @sreidisms @lanascinnamongirls @luvkatryna @sp3ncelle @iluvreid @khxna @keiva1000 @reidstheyfriend @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @cynbx @kimm4710 @niktwazny303 @reidsdaisies @mindfullycriminal @cumulo-stratus @themarauderseraslut @gayfor-rosadiaz
If you want to be a part of my taglist go here!
You can find my masterlist here!
#spencer reid#spencer reid x gn reader#spencer reid x gn! reader#spencer reid au#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x reader fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds
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which one’s toshiro and whys he autistic?
[ID: full body colored illustration of toshiro from the dungeon meshi manga. /End ID]
THIS FREAKIN GUY!!!! anyway
[ID: anonymous tumblr ask: "would def love to hear ur autistic shuro thoughts". /End ID]
awesome. rant under the cut because it will be long
So before we understand why Toshiro is the way he is we must first understand two things abt him:
1. his household situation is a very traditional clan of warriors type situation. his father is very strict and he left his homeland to go to the Island and explore the dungeon to train and become a warrior to be someone suited as the family head
2. Eastern and Western cultures of respect/propriety are different, and Ryoko Kui highlights it well even in her fantasy world.
With that in mind, heres some bullet point rapid fire thoughts that consume my current state of dunmeshi brain:
Toshiro has an avoidant personality. He fears upsetting others due to his upbringing, and rarely tells others how he feels not because he thinks they would simply understand him but because he doesn't want to seem rude and imposing / cause offense to others especially since he's not in his own homeland / hes a foreigner that should respect the land's customs, not his own wishes.
Setting boundaries is hard for everyone, but especially autistic (and some other ND, like those with Avoidant Personality Disorder) people. Those with ASD, at least in my experience, don't want to be isolated from others. So they mask.
They mask what? their desires. their true selves. their opinions. their discomfort. all for the sake of pleasing others (who are often neurotypical)
With that in mind, suddenly, what Maizuru said abt him as a child makes sense. Due to his strict upbringing, Toshiro had to more or less hide his preferences and force himself to adapt to the rigid constraints of his culture and the pressure to be the next family head, this responsibility is his burden to bear and he cannot be someone who expresses his selfish desires instead of focusing on being a strong warrior and leader
"Why did he say he hate Laios and that it should've been obvious that he disliked/found Laios' treatment of him uncomfortable??" BECAUSE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS. I'm not going to write off Laios' autism/autistic coding, but its baffling (note: definitely racism and bias for white autistic ppl) to me that a lot of ppl don't see Toshiro's perspective and straight up ignores it. This is a lack of wanting to be rude by speaking up that is based on culture difference on Toshiro's part, and straight up ignorant of his microagressions/racism and lack of self awareness on Laios' end. They were both right, they were both wrong too. This is a complicated conflict that cannot be boiled down to simple ableist/the NT vs ND divide. There's something called . intersectionality. Which brings me to the next point
Toshiro never actually hated Laios. He found him uncomfortable, yes. But he didn't /hate/ him, he was speaking out because he's had enough!!! he's done tolerating Laios' racist bullshit, and he's done following the arbitrary Eastern rules of respecting others and not being rude!!! He. Wants. Laios. To Understand. What. He. Was. Feeling. Because he just had enough!!!!! alright!!! he's at his limit hes at his breaking point, the one he loves is now probably beyond saving, and this is a good time as any to break the news to Laios that he thinks that Laios is impulsive and doesn't fully understand how his actions have consequences!!! Hes right abt this. His feelings on this is valid, just as valid as Laios'
General autistic traits I find from Toshiro: his admiration of Falin's indifference towards insects ("woah shes so brave and gentle!! just like me, fr!!!"), His lack of regard for his own needs and wants (needing to sleep and eat and drink) because he was super focused on saving Falin, His lack of like drastic expression changes, his discomfort with physical touch when it's initiated without consent (see: Laios hugging ppl extra bonus art by Ryoko Kui), his manner of like speaking short and concise, people pleasing tendencies, his like quick way of combat, rule upholder/routine following enjoyer, he seems distant from others even those he consider family not cuz of like any terrible reason but hes just. someone who enjoys his own time alone like. yeah
aannnnndd. thats abt it? i think.
Big part of this is definitely me relating to Shiro as an Asian (specifically chinese indonesian) person who is probably Autistic lmao. I hope this brings more insight on why Toshiro is actually one of the silliest and epiccest dunmeshi characters ever I love him
#asks#dungeon meshi#toshiro nakamoto#dunmeshi#L 👁️🗨️🌫️ !#shuro dunmeshi#(help)#idk if he has tags. does he have fans here. pls say he does
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mc who ships the kings with their nobles (its an excuse for leviforas)
Mc that ships the shippers with their kings
Overall, I think none of them would think much of it because all the nobles seem to have a crush on their kings. They would mind if you started losing interest in their king because you percieve them to be in a relationship.
Paimon would, like always, be the chiller one about this whole thing. While he sometimes gets angry at his fellow shippers, he'll never get angry at you unless you do something really really stupid. Shipping him with Satan is just kind of silly in his view. He might humor you a bit, but he'll shortly cut all your hopes when he says that he has no romantic feelings for Satan and never will. Doesn't want to give you too much false hope, he just wishes you'll put your sights on what really matters.
Eligos would be dumpfounded. The whole interaction was like
Eligos: Mc! I'm so glad I've found you! I've prepared a nice bow for you to wear on your stroll with his majesty Mammon.
Mc: I'm sure Mammon likes ribbons a lot. I mean, with how close the two of you are... he sure has a thing for small cute things.
Eligos: Oh, he totally does! That's why I will make you the cutest being in Hell... behind me, of course.
Mc: No, don't worry. I don't want to tempt your man.
Eligos: My... what?
Mc: Come on, it's obvious that you and Mammon have athing for eachother. The way he pets your head for longer than anyone else, the way he always calls you his. I bet you have a full collection on lingerie just for him.
Eligos: I do, but no! No no no! I'm not in love with his majesty Mammon! Never!
Mc: First stage, denile
Eligos: First stage of WHAT?!?!?
Congratulation, you just broke Eligos' brain and made him take an emergency trip to Paradise Lost to get checked for whatever illness you implyied he had.
Foras gasps when he hears that and covers your mouth.
Foras: Mc, do you like breathing?
Mc nods
Foras: Good, then stop saying stuff like that. He always listens
Leviathan: Is this what you two are doing instead of sorting paperwork? The only reasons I allowed you two to stay together was because you're incompetent and Foras keeps getting distrected on his phone. I would strangle you both, but you're into it, you filth.
Foras: I apologise, great, powerful, handsome Leviathan for my wrong doings
Mc: I'm adding degredation to my newest fic
Leviathan: Don't flatter yourself a writer, I would never degrade Foras. He actually has qualities to speak of.
Foras: (I wish he degarded me as well)
Sorry, I've been too Leviathan possitive on my blog lately, I have to spread the hate
Amon would choke on his own spit. On one hand, hot, yes, he does want to get revaged by his king. On the other hand, that would be illegal because you're already with him. Amon is delusional, partly because he's starving, partly because that's just how he is. He would try to talk you out of it out of genuioun fear that he is breaking the law.
Gamigin would be repulsed. Lucifer is his brother, why would you ship him with his sibling? Please stop, he's really uncomfortable by the whole idea.
Mc: You know, I've been thinking about you and Lucifer recently
Gamigin: Really?! What about?
Mc: You'd look lovely together. He's so nice to you, I bet he likes you well enough in bed.
Gamigin.exe stopped working
Marbas: You need to leave!
#whb#what in hell is bad#shipper au#whb paimon#whb eligos#whb foras#whb amon#whb gamigin#whb leviathan
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💥slams into your room like a ragoll
Some fluff idea for you, with Simon
Simon, who loved discovering new things about you, whether it was the way your eyes crinkled more than other smiles when you were super excited to share something, something you'd hyperfixate on for the next four months or so, or the way your giggles gave you away before you could even tell him the story.
So how about writing this, he leans about the lil nose scrunches you do when he kisses the tip of your nose today…and he starts kissing more all over your face just to find out what else you do at certain places he kiss, sending you into a giggling blushing mess :3
- ya not so suspicious panda 🐼
you better repair my door u evil panda
A whole bag of sugar’s been added into this drabble
Simon Exploring Your Cute Reactions
Simon’s in love with your little reactions, hence discovering new things from you is his daily mission.
Like how you accidentally added salt instead of sugar into your tea yesterday, and stuck your tongue out when the unexpected saltiness hit you.
or how you yelled out his name in a hurried tone, and as he rushed to check if you were alright, it was just you showing him the flower you tried to grow finally had a little bud after countless times of failure.
He sometimes wonders why you have so many different expressions, but he sees this part of you as a treasure chest, providing sparkles of anticipation to his life.
Now Simon sits on the couch, with you sitting on his lap, reading the ‘For Plant Killers: how to keep a plant without needing a brain’ book. He looks at you burying your face in the pages with a serious frown, the urge to kiss you is too difficult for him to resist.
“Oh!” You let out a little squeak as you raise your head from the book, eyes wide with curiosity, like a surprised bunny, his mind notes it as he plants another kiss on the tip of your nose.
“Hey, what you doing?” Your little nose scrunches at the touch, triggering his enjoyment with how cute you’re doing it.
Simon just shakes his head, and continues exploring.
Another kiss lands on your eyelid this time, your feather-like eyelashes flutter as you giggle at the itchy feeling.
“Stop you silly man, what are you doing?” You catch his cheeks between your palms after he gives your temple a kiss that lasts longer.
You’re a blushing mess right now, face inches from his, so he’s able to take a good look at the pink smears across your face, making you more vivid and splendid.
“Researching.” He shrugs.
“Well, now’s my time to do some research.”
The chuckles are unstoppable as you start your revenge, from the brushing of your lips at his jawline, a open mouth kiss on his face, to the light pecks at his freckles.
“Not so composed now, huh?” A devious grin plays on your glossy lips when you take a rest from your attacks, looking at him with joy-glinting eyes.
He knows his face is red like an apple now, he can sense the heat gathering at his cheeks, but in front of you, there’s no need to hide his true emotions. Not to mention, he’s on the cusp of victory, since the ace card for this cheeky game of you two is between his fingers.
“Do you remember to water your plant today?”
“oh shit!” Realization strikes you like lightning. You jump off his lap, leaving Simon a glimpse of your hasty figure as you disappear behind the corner.
Tons of discoveries today, he licks his chops while taking a sip from the lukewarm tea.
What will he find tomorrow? He leans back and taps unconsciously at your book. You’re like a mystery bag, he doesn’t think he’s able to guess what’s inside, but hey, your priceless demeanors are worth spending time exploring, and he’s already looking forward to tomorrow’s investigation.
#cod imagine#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x reader#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost riley fluff
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Quality Time
She missed her husband, even though he was right there with her.
Part of the Love Languages series
-x-
Hi besties,
This is just...pure fluff really because that is all my brain was capable of after a very busy few days at work.
This is just these two idiots being idiots for each other.
I really hope you like it, as always please let me know what you think <3
-x-
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: pregnancy
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
It’s late when he gets home.
He feels the tension in his shoulders start to ease the moment he steps over the threshold into the house, the sense of home washing over him as he closes the door behind him, locking out anything other than his family on the other side.
He pauses as he turns from the door when he hears the low hum of the television. He checks his watch and frowns when he realises just how late it is, surprised that anyone is still awake. He walks towards the living room, a purpose in his step, and as he gets closer he realises it’s one of his wife’s favourite reality TV shows, something she’d sworn him to secrecy over when they first started dating. He half expects to find Emily asleep on the couch, slumped over with her hand pressed against her stomach after she’d lost the battle against sleep to stay up for him, but instead when he walks in she’d wide awake, her focus torn from the TV as he enters the room.
“Hi honey,” she says, sitting up a little straighter when he walks over, one of her hands on her baby bump as she kisses him before he joins her on the couch, slipping under her legs as she raises them just enough for him to sit, “You made good time.”
“Traffic wasn’t bad,” he replies, squeezing her foot, smiling softly when she groans in pleasure, “You didn’t have to wait up.”
She shrugs like it’s nothing, like she wasn’t just shy of 8 months pregnant and constantly exhausted, “It’s okay, I wanted to see you.”
He frowns, seeds of concern planting deep in his chest, her tone of voice, the way she was holding herself tightly, both of her hands on her bump as she absentmindedly drew patterns on it.
“You’re tired. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d just gone to bed, I’ll be here in the morning anyway.”
She scoffs, unable to stop herself, hormones, exhaustion and irritation she knows he doesn’t deserve swirling in her gut, “Yeah, if you didn’t get called away for a case.”
His concern for her immediately gets worse, the flowers of it taking up all the space in his chest, burning against his lungs as she tries to figure out what is wrong. She’d been okay when they spoke earlier, relieved even when he told her that they were about to fly home. It’s a flash of his past life, a momentary collision of his marriage to Haley forcing its way into his marriage to Emily.
She’d never had an issue with his job, with their job, and she understood the unpredictable nature of it. Things had been different lately since she’d stopped going on cases with the team, he knew that, and he knew she missed being a part of it.
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
She blows out a breath, embarrassment at her outburst colouring her cheeks, and she shakes her head, “Nothing. Sorry, I think I’m just hormonal,” she flashes a tight smile at him, “Your kid is ruining me.”
He squeezes her foot again to get her attention after her failed attempt to deflect, his face nothing but kind as he looks expectantly at her, their promise to never lie to each other on the tip of his tongue, “Em…”
She looks down at her bump and clenches her teeth, desperately trying to stave off the tears she can feel pressing at the back of her eyes. Pregnancy had left her on a razor's edge, everything sharp and making her prone to breaking down at the tiniest thing. It was driving her crazy, irritation at herself that only ever seemed to make things worse, her head swimming with emotion she was trying and failing to push down.
“I…” she says, clearing her throat when her voice wavers, shaking her head at herself as she chuckles humourlessly, removing a hand from her bump to wipe tears from her cheek, “I just miss you,” she says, wiping away another tear. She shrugs as she avoids eye contact with him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t understand, her love for him overwhelming even after all this time. “That’s all.”
“Em,” he says softly, moving closer to place a hand on her knee, squeezing gently as she looks up at him, his smile gentle as their eyes meet, “I’m right here.”
She blows out a breath and rubs her hand over her belly as she feels the baby move, a constant reminder these days that she isn’t alone. She’d spent so much of her life chasing something exactly like this - a family to call her own. She had Aaron and Jack and the baby and she always would.
She’d never be alone again.
“I know. I think it’s because you’re going on cases and I’m not. I miss spending time just the two of us - which we never got a whole lot of anyway,” she smiles, an edge of sadness mixed in with the happiness as she reaches for his hand and places it on her stomach where the baby is kicking, “And we’re about to have even less of it.”
She’d stopped going on cases earlier than she’d originally intended. Pregnancy had been much harder on her than she’d anticipated, the nausea in the first trimester giving way almost immediately to exhaustion when it faded away. She’d wanted to carry on, content to sit in precincts and work on victimology because it made her feel useful, like she was still contributing to the team, but Aaron and her doctor convinced her it was time to stay home just as she turned 6 months pregnant. She hated that they were right, that she felt better for it, and she mostly hated that it meant she saw less of her husband than she was used to.
Since the start of their relationship, they’d spent practically all of their time together. It was clear from their first date that they were it for each other, a type of pull she knew she’d never felt before, her love for him overwhelming from even before their first kiss. They spent all their spare time together, she slept at his most nights - content to hang out with him and Jack until the little boy went to bed and then they’d get some time alone. Despite initially saying they wouldn’t, they snuck into each other’s rooms on cases before they told the team about their relationship. They were both aware that they slept better with the other there, a type of peace neither of them thought they’d ever experience again.
She missed him. Their bed felt bare without him, their choice of buying a super king even though they snuggled, more than half the bed empty even with them both in it, feeling all the more absurd when it was just her and her pregnancy pillow in it. Occasionally Jack would sneak in and join her, his small hands on her face as he woke her to tell her he’d had a bad dream. She’d feel guilty by feeling relieved when she had him there with her, the little boy she loved as her own pressed up against her whilst her baby shifted under her skin.
Aaron smiles softly at her, rubbing his hand on her bump for a moment longer before he links their fingers together and lifts their joint hands to his mouth. He presses a delicate kiss to her knuckles and it gets her attention, her eyes meet his again, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear.
“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “I miss you too.”
Even though it was almost six weeks since she stopped going away on cases he still found himself looking for her, his eyes flitting around a room she wasn’t in to look for her reassurance, for the love she always freely gave him. He missed having her there, her smile sometimes the only good thing that would happen to him on a hard day at work. He found it difficult to sleep in hotel beds that she wasn’t in with him, her weight against his chest, her breath skipping across his neck as she slept, both as essential to him for a good night's sleep as a dark room and a decent mattress.
She was his safety net. His port in a storm. And whilst he was excited for this next step in their life, close to desperate sometimes to meet their baby, to see the face he’d imagined for months, he knew he’d miss this stage.
She smiles sadly at him and stamps a kiss against his lips before she rests her head on his shoulder, “Sorry I kind of ruined the mood the moment you got home.”
“You could never ruin the mood,” he assures her, turning his head to kiss her temple. He tugs her in closer, a tightness in his chest that had been there for days easing now she was in his arms, and he feels an idea start to form, a smile spreading across his face as he pulls back to look at her, “Why don’t we go somewhere? Just the two of us.”
She hums, her eyebrows knitting together as she looks him up and down, “What? Like a babymoon?”
He frowns, tilting his head as their eyes meet, confusion painted across his face in a way that she finds nothing short of adorable, “What the hell is a babymoon?”
She chuckles and runs her fingers through his hair, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tries to tamper down her amusement, “It’s a trip you go on before the baby comes. Pen was telling me about them.”
He smiles and nods, “Then yes, exactly like a babymoon,” he says, not missing how her smile gets wider as he says it, “We could go to Virginia Beach. Get a rental right near the water. Spend some time just you and me before this little one joins us and life gets a lot busier.”
She wants to do it more than anything, wants to spend some uninterrupted time away with him, something they hadn’t done since their honeymoon almost 8 months ago, but she sighs, the reality of their lives causing anxiety to spike in her chest.
“What about work? We’re both taking some time off when the baby comes, I don’t want it to be a problem.”
Aaron squeezes her hand reassuringly, “Em, we both have enough leave days banked to take a year off if we wanted to,” he says, smiling when she nods, “If you want to do this we’ll do it. I’ll book us a place to stay tonight.”
She doesn’t have to think about it, doesn’t have to mull it over anymore and she nods, kissing him fiercely as she leans in.
“Yes,” she says, kissing him again before she pulls away, “I want to go away with you,” her words disappear into a laugh as he pulls her in for a hug, her bump pressed up against his side, as he kisses her temple. She sinks into it, into him and wraps her arms around him, her cheek against his shoulder as she sighs, a relaxed feeling washing over her for the first time in weeks, “If you think about it, it’s perfect timing.”
He furrows his brow as he pulls back to look at her, curiosity sparking in his eyes as she tries to suppress a smile, a hint of mischievousness in it that never fails to make his stomach swoop, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
Her smile only gets wider, “Well you got me pregnant on our honeymoon,” she says, shrugging playfully, “It seems like a nice way to bookend the pregnancy.”
“Em.”
___
He knows they’ve made the right decision the moment they get to their vacation rental.
She’s instantly more relaxed than she has been in weeks, a softness to her smile that makes him want to call up the owner of the beach house and offer to buy it off of him.
“I can help with the bags you know,” she says, her eyebrow raised at him as he gets their bags out of the trunk of their car, her pregnancy pillow tucked under his arm as he shuffles towards the stairs leading up to the house.
“I’ve got it,” he says, ignoring the strain in his back as he makes it up the stairs, smiling at her when she rolls her eyes. He sets down the cases and crouches down to press a kiss to her bump, “You’re already carrying the most important cargo.”
She chuckles wryly and runs her fingers through his hair, fighting a smile as he kisses her bump again, “You’re ridiculous,” she says, shaking his head as he straightens back up, her gaze drifting to where her pillow was still tucked under his arm, “If you drop my pregnancy pillow I’ll kill you, and we both know I’d be able to - even if I am the most pregnant person to ever exist.”
He clears his throat, well aware that whilst her threat was playful she’d be mad if she thought he was laughing at her.
“Yes, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again before he digs through his pockets for the key to the house. He unlocks the door and pushes it open, his hand splayed on her lower back as he guides her in, “Why don’t you look around, make yourself comfortable, and I’ll get everything in from the car. The owner said his wife would leave lemonade and homemade cookies.”
Her eyes light up and she looks down at her stomach, already walking into the house before she replies, her focus on their unborn child, “Did you hear that, baby? Cookies!”
When he’s done bringing in their things, the suitcases carried up to the bedroom and her pillow diligently placed on her side of the bed, he finds her on the back porch sitting in the swing, her gaze fixed on the ocean and the seemingly unending horizon. She turns to look at him as he steps out, her smile wry as he unfolds a blanket as he joins her, laying it over both of their laps, making sure her bump is covered, when he sits down.
“It’s not even cold out,” she says, wrapping both her arms around one of his, her hand squeezing gently at his tricep as she lays her head against his shoulder.
“I know,” he replies, resting his cheek against the top of her head, “But I’ve got to look after the two of you,” he adds, placing his hand on her bump, smiling at the movement of the baby, something that got no less amazing no matter how often he felt it, “So,” he says, kissing Emily’s forehead before he pulls back to look at her, “We have four days to do whatever we want.”
She hums and tilts her head to look up at him, the reality of being here with him, the next few days stretched out ahead of them washing over her, “I’d like to say we could have a crazy amount of sex and barely leave the house,” she laments, “But I think all I want to do is nap, eat and sit right here with you.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” he assures her, resting his hand on her neck, his thumb tracing her jawline, “As long as I’m with you I don’t mind what we do,” he says, leaning in to kiss the tip of her nose, “And, I have it under good authority that a restaurant just down the street has to die for mac and cheese and they deliver.”
She moans, the sound turning into a delighted laugh as she closes her eyes, “You really know what a pregnant woman loves to hear.”
He hums, kissing her forehead before he lets his hand fall back to her bump, “Maybe I just really know my wife.”
She can’t explain the feeling that swells in her chest, threatening to pull her under as tears press at the back of her eyes. It was moments like this, moments when it was just him and her and their love for each other when she let herself feel the happiness she never thought she’d get, let herself bask in it.
She wasn’t lucky, this hadn’t fallen into her lap. She’d fought for this. Fought to get here and sometimes she’d lost, tripped and fell as the battle seemed too much, but she’d made it here. Made it to him, and he’d done the same to make it to her. They’d endured so much apart, but she knew whatever came next, the good and the bad, they’d face together.
She cups his cheek and rubs her thumb back and forth over his skin, “You’re the love of my life, you know,” she says, her cheeks warm with love and a hint of embarrassment, “I can’t imagine wanting to do any of this with anyone else.”
“You’re the love of my life too,” he says, and he places his hand over hers on his cheek and leans in to kiss her, “I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else either,” he says, frowning at himself when he says it, realising it sounds clumsy because he had done it with someone else.
A shaky breath escapes him, her admission not new but unexpected in the moment, their conversation about her favourite pregnancy food suddenly turning into more. He loved her so much it hurt sometimes. It was different to how he’d loved Haley. They’d grown up together, had initially grown together and then apart, both of them still in love with a version of themselves that no longer existed. He and Emily loved each other for who they were, for what they’d gone through, and he knew he’d have it for the rest of his life.
He sighs at himself and shakes his head, “I mean-”
“I know what you mean,” she says softly, cutting him off as she presses her thumb into his lower lip, “I’m glad we came here.”
He rests his forehead against hers, “Me too.”
They sit there for a few moments in silence, the only sound the waves crashing against the shore in the background. The moment comes to an end when her stomach audibly makes a noise that makes them both laugh, the baby almost moving in tandem.
“I think baby wants some of that mac and cheese,” she says, leaning into his palm when he wipes away a stray tear that had escaped her lashline.
He chuckles, pressing a kiss against her lips before he kisses her bump. He stands up to find the stack of take-out menus the owner had left out, but she stops him, her hand tight around his as if she didn’t want him to go, “I’ll be right back.”
She sighs and relents, letting go of him before she winks at him, “Make sure to bring me some of those cookies on your way back.”
“Anything you want, sweetheart,” he says as he steps back into the house, “Absolutely anything.”
-x-
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Midwinter in Waterdeep: Part Two
Gale/Tav | Angst & Pining | Read on AO3 | Read Part One | 1K words
Summary:
After the defeat of the Netherbrain, Gale Dekarios was a wizard of intentionally lesser renown, a respected professor at Blackstaff Academy, and engaged to the love of his life. His life was enchanted until he came home to an empty tower, and he has been seeing ghosts ever since.
He saw her ghost everywhere.
She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this.
AN: There will be a Part 3 to conclude this and it will be out later this weekend. Thank you all so much for your support on what was supposed to be a one-shot that has taken over my brain completely.
He saw her ghost everywhere.
She haunted him the first day when he got home from teaching. The house was too quiet, and as he set his bag down in the entryway, he saw the ring. He saw the note. I’m sorry. I can’t do this. He knew her leaving was inevitable the more their conversations became stilted, the more they floated in each other's orbits, the more foreign her touch became. But the tower still smelled like her, still felt like her presence was just around the corner. Still felt like they could have had a chance to fix things. He heard her in his head all night long as he wept in his study.
It’s not real. She’s not here.
She haunted him on his walk back from visiting his mother two weeks later, the first time he left his house. He had tried to lay low after she left him, but her name followed him like a poltergeist from the mouths of those he passed on the street, whispering to their friends about who he was, who she was. Wondering how it ended.
It's not real. She’s not here.
She haunted him when he was in the market four months after she left. He didn’t want to be there. Everything reminded him of her - the cart they would visit once a tenday to buy her favorite sweet rolls, the jewelry store he visited in secret to get her silver ring that was still on the entry table gathering dust. He saw a flash of her hair color and froze. When time regained its ability to move forward he strained his neck, pushing through the crowd searching for her, unable to breathe. Could it be her? Where had she been all these weeks? Was she okay? Had she moved on with someone else who was less tied down by routine? Was she even still alive?
It wasn’t her, of course. He didn’t go to the market again after that. He still hasn’t.
It’s not real. She’s not here.
Seasons passed. Festivals, new apprentices, weekly dinners with colleagues - life fell into a rhythm that helped him move forward. He saw her ghost less and less. It had been almost 6 months since the last haunting. He had finally tucked the silver ring into a drawer two tendays ago, an attempt to bury the what ifs and if onlys and begin to exorcize her from his memory at last. Midwinter in Waterdeep was upon him, and he was eager to engage in festivities that evening with colleagues, now friends. A few cups of wine and he felt like the old Gale, showing off a little by using his well-honed magic to create fireworks to fill the room with light and color.
As the illusion sparked and fizzled out to the delight and applause of the other partygoers, a familiar wisp settled itself in the peripheries of his mind. She always loved his illusions, from their first night together with the aurora and the sparkling stars to the smaller ones he created for her everyday in the beginning. If he had kept trying to make her happy, would she have left? If he had noticed her pulling away as he settled into the routine of his life, could he have brought her closer instead of making her feel like her only option was to run?
He set his cup down, the wine steering him toward paths his brain wasn’t ready to go back down yet, preferring to stay focused on the revelry at hand. The snow flurries caught his eye through the large picture window in the front room. He had always loved the snow and moved to the window to watch it in contemplative silence.
He froze, his eyes widened, breath caught in his throat.
Her ghost. Haunting him even here, even now, after all this time. Her hair, her eyes, everything just as he remembered from the morning she left him, standing across the street looking into the window he was currently occupying. Looking at him. He saw the ghost’s eyes widen, saw her quickly turn to walk away, to escape discovery. He wanted to hesitate. He wanted to accept it was just another vision brought on by too many cups of wine, another falsehood of his imagination...but one tiny spark of hope pulled at his mind.
The ghost had never reacted to him like that before.
He didn’t remember moving. He didn’t remember running out of the door, the rest of the partygoers gasping as the usually reserved Gale Dekarios knocked over a chair and pushed people out of his way. He didn’t remember the bite of the cold air. He didn’t remember yelling “Stop!” as the ghost moved quickly away, trying to toy with him, as always. He didn’t remember running down the street to catch up to the ghost, preparing himself for it to disappear as usual. He didn’t remember the desperation on his face or in his voice as he reached for her.
He remembered grabbing on to the ghost’s hand, feeling it solid in his. His heart pounded.
“Wait. Please,” he said, panting. The ghost turned around, but it wasn’t a ghost at all.
She was real.
She was here.
“Gale,” she whispered, tears in her eyes.
“You’re real. You’re here,” he whispered back, wrapping her in his arms, committing to memory how she felt as he held her tightly for the first time in over a year. It was only then he realized that her absence had permeated every facet of his being and he felt like he could finally breathe again. His lips crashed against hers, time standing still for the two of them as he tangled his fingers in her hair.
She took a step back, breaking their contact, looking down at the ground.
He knew. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“Tomorrow,” she nodded, a tear falling down her cheek. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have-"
He placed his hands on both sides of her face, brushing away her sadness before kissing her deeply one more time.
Real. Here.
“Then let me have tonight.”
#bg3#bg3 gale#gale dekarios#bg3 fanfiction#gale fanfic#gale x tav#gale x f!tav#gale x auroria#my writing#gale of waterdeep#midwinter in waterdeep#baldur’s gate 3
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More than movie magic... 18/?
Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.
ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN
Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Well hey there…” Jake says, and now that he knows Bradley likes his Texan accent he makes no effort to temper it, but Bradley looks annoyed instead of amused or aroused and Jake hopes the annoyance isn’t directed at him. Not already.
“Hi. Can I talk to you real quick?”
“Uh, yeah, of course…”
Of course there are catcalls and Jake rolls his eyes, but his heart is beating fast, thundering in his ears, terrified that this is somehow going to be his shortest lived relationship ever. He doesn’t know what he’s projecting exactly, but Bradley’s reaching for him, lacing their fingers together and pulling him to the side, just out of the way and out of earshot from most people although he notes pretty much every eye in the room is turned their way.
“Hey. Hey calm down. We’re fine. You’re fine…”
Bradley has shifted, putting his back to the room, as if he’s protecting Jake from everyone, eyes flicking over his face and his expression is concerned. Fuck.
“Jake… you with me?”
“Yeah, sorry. Just… heard those words before and it’s generally not the start of a good conversation.”
“Sorry. Shit. I’m so sorry. I just need to tell you something, and I feel like I’m going to be apologizing a lot today. Nothing either of us did though, okay?”
“The photos?”
“Yeah. Mav’s seen them.”
“Mav?”
“Sorry. Pete. He’s on his way here because he called me from the air and he’s incapable of believing I can make my own life decisions.”
“Okay. That’s okay. I’ve met Pete before.”
“Yeah. You met professional-Pete, not parent-Pete. Different beast unfortunately. Just… if I could have kept him from meeting your mom until after we were married or something that’s how I would have played it, but, uh…”
“You’ve thought about us getting married?” Jake blurts out, surprised.
“Uh. No? Well. Not in detail exactly.”
All his feelings around Bradley second guessing his decision to be with him have just dissolved, and he knows he had no reason to doubt it, but also knows his brain isn’t a rational place sometimes. Instead he’s watching Bradley blush and look awkward and he’s definitely falling in love with him.
“I generally don’t start relationships with people I can’t imagine myself spending the rest of my life with? I’m thirty-five, I have a better idea of what I’m looking for. And I can imagine a future with you, so… here we are.”
“Oh. So why would Pete be worried about that?”
“God. This is not the place for that conversation. Just. I’ll tell you, but we have fifteen minutes before we’re meant to be on set and I need to tell you something else… He’s bringing Tom. His partner. Um.”
Jake has to admit he’s confused. Pete having a male partner doesn’t really explain why Bradley seems as worked up as he is.
“Okay. So it’s a man. You seriously don’t think I’d have a problem with that do you?” Jake asks, staring at him and gesturing between the two of them. Bradley is shaking his head though, like there’s more and Jake waits.
“Tom as in Tom Kazansky.”
“What?”
Okay then. That’s a name and a half. Jake knows who that is of course, but he never met the man, Kazansky being pretty much a recluse since his health scare a decade previous when Jake had only just started making a name for himself. Jake isn’t even sure he’d recognize the man, the photo used in any media one from over twenty years ago.
“Yeah. They’re… shit. Thought I’d have time to tell you and prepare you for how weird they are. They have… a complicated relationship. They’re both incredibly stubborn and agree that they love each other, but they also… well. Tom got cancer, so he called it all off, said Pete could find someone better, and that started a whole other fight, but it was the most ridiculous thing, arguing over who loved each other more. They’re both hopeless, but neither of them can see it.”
“Oookay…” Jake says slowly, his mind racing, because quite frankly he doesn’t care about Pete or Tom, he just wants Bradley to stop freaking out. “Bradley. They aren’t going to scare me off anymore than my family has scared you off.”
As he’d hoped that makes Bradley laugh and he can’t help his answering grin.
“I like your family.”
“Well, that’s good. God. We’ve got to get to set. Marcia is going to have my head.”
“I need to talk to her too, give her a heads up about Pete,” Bradley says, and he’s glancing over his shoulder then, eyes scanning the room and Jake reaches for his face and gets his attention before kissing him.
“Go. I’ll see you in the arena shortly. Hope you appreciate that I don’t have to do makeup today!”
… … …
He’s distracted as he watches Jake walk away, but only a little, because he needs to find Marcia and Arnold, let them know that Pete is coming, but only to visit him and not to be an ass and tread on another turf, despite that totally being Mav’s MO. He knows Mav is getting on and mutters about retiring, but whenever he’s not working Bradley has to deal with more of his bullshit than usual.
“Bradley, you haven’t eaten anything!” Aunty Kaye calls out, and he startles a little, turning toward her, because she’s not wrong, but he is going to be late to set.
“Uh, no, haven’t really had time yet. I did grab a protein bar. Thank you for that by the way,” Bradley says, and he hopes he isn’t blushing too badly.
“Hmm. That’s not proper food.”
“No, I know. I just had a phone call. My dad is coming to visit. Both of them I guess. They’ll probably be here for lunch actually. Assuming they don’t get lost…”
“Well I look forward to meeting them. Hmm. Do you know why I like you Bradley?”
“Um. I thought maybe you liked most people?” Bradley asks, suddenly feeling like he’s smack bang in the center of a minefield with no idea how he got there. And of course he can’t be rude and just run away, he’d much rather incur Marcia’s wrath than Aunty Kaye’s at the end of the day.
“Oh, I do dear. But I liked you before I’d even met you.”
“Oh.”
Now he’s confused.
“You stand up to him, you wouldn’t let him try anything risky or dangerous and he complained about it bitterly,” she says, laughing. “But you know what I thought?”
“What?”
“That that sounded like someone who would keep Jake safe and unharmed. I’m his mom, of course I want him safe. He gets into enough trouble without thinking he can do risky stunts.”
“Yeah. Of course.”
“You don’t let him railroad you into things, I admire that too.”
“Thanks?”
“Here, on his own turf, watching him do something he was born with in his blood? You trust him to know his limits. He needs that too.”
Bradley just nods, not sure if he’s even allowed to speak.
“So. I like you. However if I ever find out you’ve deliberately hurt him, either emotionally, physically or mentally I want you to know that you won’t see me coming. I will find you. Now, I can’t really threaten you with bodily harm, however I can threaten you with my disappointing looks, which my children assure me are the worst thing they’ve ever experienced. Of course, if Jake screws this up he’ll also be on the receiving end of one of such looks. However, I feel like you’re a man who doesn’t give up easily. Some days you’re going to have to dig-deep, because my baby can get in his own head and think the worst of everything and everyone, but I think if he were easy you wouldn’t be as interested as you seem to be.”
Bradley gapes like a fish, mouth opening and closing and he has no idea what to even say, where to start with everything she’s just said. All it’s highlighting is that he and Jake really need to have a proper talk. Not just about their relationship, but maybe about potential baggage that they have, because he thought maybe he was the only one. He should have known that wasn’t going to be the case.
“I’ve already told Jake that I think he’s worth it.”
“Good. Maybe he’ll believe you.”
NINETEEN
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A Kiss Hello - Fíli x Reader
Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D
Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?
Word Count: 0.7k
Warnings: none
Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.
It helped that he didn't exactly mind. You had lived with them under the mountain for years, and he was still the only one left with a burning face and butterflies in his stomach once you were out of sight.
"Fíli, this is getting ridiculous," Kíli sighed goofily as they traversed the halls of the mountain, trying to find the longest and most time-consuming route to their meetings. "I can see hearts in your eyes whenever she's around, why don't you just... confess?"
"Because I'm not you, Kíli," Fíli said, a bit agitated. "It's expected of me to find a nice dwarrowdam and settle down, keep our people happy. I can't just... just..."
"Just be happy with the woman you so obviously love?" Kíli interrupted, seemingly unfazed by his brother's sharp words. "You're free to make your own decisions, but I can promise you will live with regret forever if you don't do something. And soon."
Fíli looked slightly up at his younger brother. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you know?"
Kíli shrugged, eyes trained on the path ahead of them. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Kíli!" Fíli felt his frustration rising, and with it, panic. What was happening? What were you going to do? "What, is she going to leave?"
Kíli only looked at him.
The golden prince's heart sank.
Was it his fault?
Fíli paced, wringing his hands, in the marketplace you always seemed to find yourself in, sometimes to sell, sometimes just to shop—oh, how he loved how vibrant you were when you shopped with him.
At this point, his heart was no longer in his stomach, but his feet. He couldn't stand it if you left, all because he chased you away, all because he was stupid and didn't know when to admit it—
"Y/N!" He interrupted his own thoughts, seeing you draw near. You held the basket you always used when shopping, the one he bought you in one of the towns you stopped at, before Erebor had even been won. It was looking a little worse for the wear, but you refused to give it up.
"Fíli!" You called back with a smile, but your eyes looked strained.
He wrestled with his brain, trying to figure out what to say first. His words became an incomprehensible knot. "Are you leaving?" He blurted. He just... he just really needed to know.
"Yes, actually, I am," you admitted, gazing at the floor. "I figured... I don't know, I think it's just time," you nodded, mouth twisted in a sad smile. "I hope you won't miss me too badly."
Fíli's heart raced. "Actually, if I could—"
A voice called out to you, and from the looks of it, it belonged to the head of a caravan you were looking to travel with.
"I'm so sorry, it looks like I have to go," you apologized, moving forward to bid him goodbye.
First, it was the right cheek, and as you moved to kiss his left, he turned, catching your lips with his.
The contact was fleeting, you startling back, flustered. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry—"
You were still only centimeters from him. "Don't go," he murmured, moving to kiss you again. He didn't want to leave any doubt in your mind—that was not an accident.
His heart fluttered as he felt you kiss back, tilting your head as his hand rose to cup your face.
"I won't," you said as you pulled away, hot breath fanning across his face.
He felt eyes on the two of you from all sides. There would be no hiding this, no killing rumors or trying to keep a secret. "Good," he said, his lips still almost touching yours.
He had always liked your goodbyes, but this new beginning was much better.
#lotr#lotr fandom#lotr fanfic#the hobbit#lotr headcanons#the hobbit headcanons#the hobbit x reader#fili x reader#fíli x reader#fíli the hobbit#fili the hobbit#fili fanfic#fili durin#fili and kili#fili durin x reader
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May I request a Holm x reader where his sister introduces you to him as an apprentice for spirit care?
where the heart is
…ft! holm x gn! reader
…tags! fluff, meet-cute, mentioned kabru wrecking homes (/lh)
…wc! 930
…notes! i’ve seen your acc around my friend you’re like the head of the holm fanclub in my brain. i have so much respect for ya. i hope i do your man justice!!!
Knowing your friend as well as you do, you didn’t doubt she would eventually introduce you to her younger brother in due time. All three of you are elemental spirit researchers, and though the siblings are rather estranged, you hear a thing or two about this ‘Holm’ individual whenever a certain pretty-faced tall-man comes by.
“Who’s Holm?” You one day ask. Your gnomish friend shrivels up slightly at the question. She doesn’t normally talk about her family, a bit too estranged from them to really care too much for them.
“My brother. You heard Kabru, I’m sure,” she answers.
You shake your head. “Yeah, but who is he?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“I’m curious.” You smile in a way that sends a shiver up your friend’s spine. “You know me!”
Since she’d rather not deal with your questioning, she instead arranges through Kabru to introduce you both. Your incessant ramblings of how he must be a talented researcher if he makes use of spirits in adventuring, and how you’d like to study under him made her blood boil. This is the only way she’ll find respite.
You’d spot Holm instantly in a tavern – he looks similar enough to his sister after all – and put on your best, brightest smile. Beside you, your friend adjusts her glasses to deadpan you.
“Don’t get your hopes up about this apprenticeship thing,” she advises.
You reach out to pat her cheek, tutting. “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head! I’ll only be an hour, and so much can happen in that time!”
Leaving your friend to scrunch up her face in disgust at your delight at getting your way, you’d skip away to introduce yourself to Holm.
Names are exchanged, and you and the gnome shake hands. Gosh, now that you’re here, you can feel your nerves start to catch up to you. Holm seems easy–going enough, a little less prickly than his sister, but still witty enough to catch you out with jokes you wouldn’t expect.
“You study elemental spirits, and utilise them in dungeons, right?” You call upon previous knowledge of the gnome across from you. “That sounds fascinating! How do you do it so easily?”
Holm lazily grins at you, endearment crossing his expression at how interested you seem to be. Whether it’s interest in him or his study, he seems flattered. “Spirit care comes easy. It’s like raising a pet. I had Marillier, an undine, in my care since she’s just a little droplet. With time and trust, calling upon an elemental spirit’s help comes easy.”
“Ooh, how wise!” You clasp your hands together. “You’d make a great teacher, Holm. Ever thought of taking in an apprentice?”
Holm tilts his head. “Ah, interested, are you?”
Knowing you’d been caught, you simply smile at Holm with a bit of sheepishness. “Is that so bad? Your sister hardly mentioned you, but you seem so intelligent! I should thank that Kabru man for letting me know of your existence!”
At the mention of his sister and party leader meeting, Holm frowns. “They’re still meeting, eh? Nothing too suggestive going on between them, I hope?”
Even when filled with a slight sense of disgust, you can’t help but find him cute. Haaahhh, this will be the death of you!
“Don’t worry,” you reassure, “he merely comes over for tea sometimes.”
You neglect to leave out the type of letters she’d be writing to him. That’s a bit much for what you consider a first date.
Holm heaves a sigh of relief, reaching up to twirl his hair. “Thank goodness for that…”
The conversation continues, the two of you getting along like a house on fire, until Holm’s sister comes by to pick you up an hour later.
Just before you say your goodbyes, you perk up. “Oh!” Turning to Holm one final time you smile. “Sorry, but I didn’t get your answer on that apprenticeship idea?”
Holm ponders on this for a few seconds, almost freezing in place at your sudden question. A long few moments pass, and your friend was just about to speak up when Holm shyly interrupts.
“I don’t think I can take you on as an apprentice… I think I’d prefer a more personal relationship with you, if that’s alright…”
The answer, even if it wasn’t the outcome you predicted, fills you with happiness unlike any other nevertheless. You graciously thank Holm, turning to your friend with a wicked grin, reacting in shock at the fact you’re just inviting yourself into her family.
“Ah–” Holm says. “Before you go…”
“Yes?” You face the gnome again, blinking curiously.
He takes a few moments to gather himself, before asking, “would you like to join me for dinner tomorrow evening? I’m free, so…”
“I’d be honoured!” You don’t even hesitate to reply. You can sense your friend’s disgust even without looking at her.
Holm smiles with relief. “Thank you. I’ll meet you outside this tavern again…?”
“Yes!” You nod eagerly. “I’d even bring along some of my own notes if you’d like to compare!”
“Ah, a study date?” Holm perks up slightly. “Yes, I’d like that a lot…”
“I’m still here, you know,” Holm’s sister dryly butts in. With some apologies, she finally drags you away from her brother, grumbling that this must be how he feels about her flame…
You giggle at her reaction once you walk outside. “Oh, don’t be like that!” You whine. “Aren’t you happy to have me be a part of your home?”
“You better not!”
You blissfully ignore her scolding. Yes, a successful venture indeed.
#✮ grimm's fics!#dungeon meshi#dungeon meshi imagines#dungeon meshi x reader#delicious in dungeon#delicious in dungeon imagines#delicious in dungeon x reader#holm#holm x reader#holm kranom#holm kranom x reader#holm imagines#holm kranom imagines#that'll probably do tagwise#do you get the pun. holm is where the heart is. haha.
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imgonnagetyouback
… Lilac short skirt
The one that fits me like skin
Did your research
You knew the price goin' in
… And I'll tell you one thing, honey
I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean
Standing at the bar like something's funny, bubbly
Once you fix your face, I'm goin' in
… Whether I'm gonna be your wife or
Gonna smash up your bike, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… Whether I'm gonna curse you out or
Take you back to my house, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… I, I hear the whispers in your eyes
I'll make you wanna think twice
You'll find that you were never not mine
You're mine
… Small talk, big love
Act like I don't care what you did
I'm an Aston Martin
That you steered straight into the ditch
Then ran and hid
… And I'll tell you one thing, honey
I can take the upper hand and touch your body
Flip the script and leave you like a dumb house party
Or I might just love you 'til the end
… Whether I'm gonna be your wife or
Gonna smash up your bike, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… Whether I'm gonna flip you off or
Pull you into the closet
I haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… I, I hear the whispers in your eyes
I'll make you wanna think twice
You'll find that you were never not mine
You're mine
… I can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move
Push the reset button, we're becoming something new
Say you got somebody, I'll say, "I got someone too"
Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you
… Bygones will be bygone eras fadin' into gray (fadin' into gray)
We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game (oh)
Told my friends, "I hate you but I love you just the same"
Pick your poison, babe
I'm poison either way
… Whether I'm gonna be your wife or
Gonna smash up your bike, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… Whether I'm gonna curse you out or
Take you back to my house, I
Haven't decided yet
But I'm gonna get you back
… I, I hear the whispers in your eyes
I'll make you wanna think twice
You'll find that you were never not mine
I'm gonna get you back
Observations:
-Gender neutral pronouns
-Using the word “bubbly” to describe her muse…..is so sapphic and 1000% screams Karlie
-“once you fix your face I’m going in” I mean….sure guys can wear make up and be bubbly but come on. This isn’t sounding like any of the beards. This is Karlie or another woman at least.
-whisper in your eyes….whispering eyes is queer
-the “I, I” before whispering eyes sounds EXACTLY like Dress BUT incomplete. Only two instead of 4….because they’re stuck in between. In Dress they were in the moment of the dress coming off and then….
Here the ending isn’t known yet….will this end in a fight or will the dress be coming off when she takes her home?
- “bygones will be bygones, eras fading into gray” Is this indicating that they will be publicly “burying the hatchet” so to speak and be seen together again towards the end of the eras tour?
ANOTHER Thought….
I feel like this album has fully ninja’d my brain! Every day new things jump out at me! But this one completely went over my head until I saw a tiktok Jordyn did about it….
🎶Whether I’m gonna flip you off or Pull you into the closet
I’m sorry, WHAT!?!?
🤯
This album is SOOO loud!!!!
#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#kaylor#gaylor#karlie kloss#dress#reputation#imgonnagetyouback#whispering eyes#the eras tour
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Satan & Violins
I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.
Disclaimer!
1. I have not picked up an instrument in years
2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T
3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY
4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy
(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)
The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.
Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.
Moving on, let's talk about body posture.
Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.
When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:
Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).
So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.
Lets get technical.
There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!
In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.
THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily
#obey me satan#satan obey me#yes i like omori how did you know#thinking abt me and satan covering duet mghhhnnnhhhh#STAN SATAN OUR MULTI TALENTED KING FOR CLEAR SKIN#rambling a bit#obey me#obey me nightbringer
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🗒️ 24.04.2024 ⋅⋅⋅ 🥀
some notes for 20.09.2023 post and a separate cut out for utena because i spent a very long time rendering her ...
the original concept i had in my head for this art was very different. it was just supposed to be a style study of this an official anime prop design art, and i'd thought to draw anthy in a similar pose across from her like in the shown version, but with her wearing her prince outfit from the manga. something something another form of female competition under the patriarchyyy stop pitting 2 girlprinces against each other omg etc
(side note, how sick would it have been in an AU where akio made anthy fight against utena in the ring? like i dont think it would hav added more to the story or made it better really ... probably would've diluted the message to be honest ... but everytime i see that manga art of prince anthy i imagine some convoluted black rose arc AU where utenas dodging anthy getting her hair hacked off left and right like himemiyaaa nooo snap out of it this isnt uuu while anthys silent and dead eyed hahaha)
but then after i drew prince anthy, the picture looked rather empty ... so i thought to add a few decals or borders in the style of the show & official arts but aaahh ... there was still too much negative space. i had to scrap anthy's prince outfit and put her back in her rose bride dress 😭 man !!! he cant keep getting away this !!! [blames akio the figurehead of patriarchy instead of taking responsibility of my own actions] which made me sad because i was pretty satisfied with the way i drew her pose and legs ! but i had to cover it up 🥲 ...
the composition overall looked better though. and then after that it kept spiraling. i just kept adding more and more things until i lost control of this drawing and it plagued my WIP folder for months ... i dont want to try and connect all of it in words so ill just lay out all the pieces for you so you can connect them yourself. and you can experience my art thought process in fraction of erraticity and frustration as i experience it myself. this is a lot neater than what happened in my head though because i bothered to put it in order. honestly if i can make you feel a little bit insane trying to scroll through and read all this than i can make you understand how annoying my brain is when all i wanted to draw was utenanthy girlprinces fighting
starting references & inspiration: utena prop reference sheet & manga prince!anthy
the tower & the lovers tarot
above: the lovers as depicted in the tarot of marseilles deck, tarocco bolognese deck, & tarocco piemontese deck
the lovers (tarot card) wikipedia:
The Lovers is associated with the star sign Gemini, and indeed is also known as The Twins in some decks. Other associations are with Air, Mercury, and the Hebrew letter ז (Zayin).
In the Rider Waite deck, the imagery for this card is changed significantly from the traditional depiction.
Instead of a couple receiving a blessing from a noble or cleric, the Rider–Waite deck depicts Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.
a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.6:
UPRIGHT: Attraction, love, beauty, trials overcome
REVERSED: Failure, foolish designs. Another account speaks of marriage frustrated and contrarieties of all kinds
a.e. waite, the pictorial key to tarot, part II, VI. the lovers:
In the foreground are two human figures, male and female, unveiled before each other, as if Adam and Eve when they first occupied the paradise of the earthly body. Behind the man is the Tree of Life, bearing twelve fruits, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is behind the woman; the serpent is twining round it. The figures suggest youth, virginity, innocence and love before it is contaminated by gross material desire. This is in all simplicity the card of human love, here exhibited as part of the way, the truth and the life. It replaces, by recourse to first principles, the old card of marriage, which I have described previously, and the later follies which depicted man between vice and virtue. In a very high sense, the card is a mystery of the Covenant and Sabbath.
The suggestion in respect of the woman is that she signifies that attraction towards the sensitive life which carries within it the idea of the Fall of Man, but she is rather the working of a Secret Law of Providence than a willing and conscious temptress. It is through her imputed lapse that man shall arise ultimately, and only by her can he complete himself. The card is therefore in its way another intimation concerning the great mystery of womanhood.
going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the lovers:
UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices
REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values
In its purest form, The Lovers card represents conscious connections and meaningful relationships. The arrival of this card in a Tarot reading shows that you have a beautiful, soul-honoring connection with a loved one.
[...] The Lovers is a card of open communication and raw honesty. Given that the man and woman are naked, they are both willing to be in their most vulnerable states and have learned to open their hearts to one another and share their truest feelings.
[...] On a more personal level, The Lovers card represents getting clear about your values and beliefs. You are figuring out what you stand for and your philosophy. Having gone through the indoctrination of The Hierophant, you are now ready to establish your belief system and decide what is and what is not essential to you. It’s time to go into the big wide world and make choices for yourself, staying true to who you are and being authentic and genuine in all your endeavors.
At its heart, The Lovers is about choice. The choice about who you want to be in this lifetime, how you connect with others and on what level, and about what you will and won’t stand for. To make good choices, you need to be clear about your personal beliefs and values – and stay true to them. Not all decisions will be easy either. The Lovers card is often a sign that you are facing a moral dilemma and must consider all consequences before acting. Your values system is being challenged, and you are being called to take the higher path, even if it is difficult. Do not carry out a decision based on fear or worry or guilt or shame. Now, more than ever, you must choose love – love for yourself, love for others and love for the Universe. Choose the best version of yourself.
Finally, The Lovers card encourages you to unify dual forces. You can bring together two parts that are seemingly in opposition to one another and create something that is ‘whole’, unified and harmonious. In every choice, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. When you accept these dualities, you build the unity from which love flows.
the tower (tarot card) wikipedia:
The Tower is widely associated to danger, crisis, sudden change, destruction, higher learning, and liberation. In the Rider–Waite deck, the top of The Tower is a crown, which symbolizes materialistic thought being bought cheap, downcast.
a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.16:
UPRIGHT: Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe
REVERSED: According to one account, the same in a lesser degree also oppression, imprisonment, tyranny
(the wikipedia included a.e. waite's upright meanings, but i have no idea where they got the reversed meanings)
going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the tower:
UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening
REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster
The Tower shows a tall tower perched on the top of a rocky mountain. Lightning strikes set the building alight, and two people leap from the windows, head first and arms outstretched. It is a scene of chaos and destruction.
The Tower itself is a solid structure, but because it has been built on shaky foundations, it only takes one bolt of lightning to bring it down. It represents ambitions and goals made on false premises.
The lightning represents a sudden surge of energy and insight that leads to a break-through or revelation. It enters via the top of the building and knocks off the crown, symbolizing energy flowing down from the Universe, through the crown chakra. The people are desperate to escape from the burning building, not knowing what awaits them as they fall.
[...] The best way forward is to let this structure self-destruct so you can re-build and re-focus. [...] with a card like The Tower, you have no choice but to surrender to the destruction and chaos, no matter how unwanted or painful
[...] After a Tower experience, you will grow stronger, wiser and more resilient as you develop a new perspective on life you did not even know existed.
infant stars taken by NASA hubble
used in the background overlay of akio's tower
star birth | cool cosmos:
Stars form from the simplest of building blocks - huge clouds of gas and dust that permeate the Galaxy.
[...] While these big clouds of dust and gas lay dormant for many millions and perhaps billions of years, eventually some of them are disturbed. This can happen gradually, maybe caused by the approach of one of the Milky Way's spiral arms as it slowly sweeps around the center of the galaxy, or it can be a sudden event, like a nearby supernova explosion that blasts a shockwave through the cloud. Either way, a small increase in the pressure and density of the cloud forms knots in the gas and dust that eventually collapse under their own gravity, pulling more and more of the surrounding material in, and forming the stellar "seeds" known as protostars.
From Protostar to Star: As the clouds collapse, they start to rotate, and, like a spinning skater pulling in her arms, each of these seed protostars begins to spin faster the more it collapses. The material falling towards the protostar flattens out into a rotating disk of dust and gas encircling the central core. The protostar warms up, as the potential energy of the material falling in is converted into kinetic energy, but it has not yet ignited to form a fully-fledged star.
For the next few million years, the protostar's gravity pulls in more material from the surrounding cloud into its disk. That disk transports the gas and dust onto the protostar, causing the protostar to grow. The increase in mass causes the gravitational field of the protostar to increase and so even more material is pulled into the disk. The addition of more material, in turn, increases the gravitational field even further, pulling in more material, and so on, creating a feedback loop that keeps the whole process going.
[...] The density and temperature of the protostar keep climbing higher and higher, until eventually the core grows to about one tenth the size of our Sun, and becomes hot and dense enough for hydrogen nuclei to spontaneously stick together to form helium, in a process called nuclear fusion. At that instant, the core ignites, and the new star is born. Meanwhile, in the disk, clumps of material have been forming, which are the seeds of new planets. These seeds sweep up material in the disk in a process called accretion, forming the planets of a new solar system.
Once the star has started nuclear fusion, the heat and wind from the infant star begin to blast the gas and dust away, creating a cavity in the cloud. As more and more matter gets funneled onto the star from the disk, the star gets larger and larger, causing it to push harder and harder against the cloud and the disk, enlarging the cavity, vaporizing the disk, and halting the growth of planets.
deadheading (flowers) wikipedia:
Deadheading is the horticultural practice of removing spent flowers from ornamental plants.
Deadheading is a widespread form of pruning, since fading flowers are not as appealing and direct a lot of energy into seed development if pollinated. The goal of deadheading is thus to preserve the attractiveness of the plants in beds, borders, containers and hanging baskets, as well as to encourage further blooming. Deadheading flowers with many petals, such as roses, peonies, and camellias prevents them from littering.
[...] Ornamental plants that do not require deadheading are those that do not produce a lot of seed or tend to deadhead themselves [...] if the plant bears attractive seeds or fruits, deadheading is normally avoided
ladybird, ladybug, lady beetle: scientific name "coccinellidae" wikipedia:
Etymology: [...] The common English name ladybird originated in Britain where the insects became known as "Our Lady's birds". Mary ("Our Lady") was often depicted wearing a red cloak in early art, and the seven spots of the species Coccinella septempunctata (the most common in Europe) were said to represent her seven joys and seven sorrows.
Trophic Roles: Coccinellids act both as predators, prey and parasitic hosts in food webs. The majority of coccinellids are carnivorous and predatory. [...] Cannibalism has been recorded in several species; which includes larvae eating eggs or other larvae, and adults feeding on individuals of any life stage.
Defense: The bright warning colouration of many coccinellids discourage potential predators, warning of their toxicity [...] Species with more contrast with the background environment tended to be more toxic. Coccinellid haemolymph (blood) contains toxic alkaloids, azamacrolides and polyamines, as well as foul-smelling pyrazines. Coccinellids can produce at least 50 types of alkaloids. When disturbed, ladybirds further defend themselves with reflex bleeding, exuding drops from their tibio-femoral (knee) joints, effectively presenting predators with a sample of their toxic and bitter body fluid.
despite said being named after the lady virgin mary they are known to be promiscuous breeders, who's habits have been documented to result in epidemics of sexually transmitted infection in large populations, subject to various academic studies
lyric from lady oscar's theme song "the rose perishes beautifully"
youtube
ok there was more but its been like 8 hours it turns out trying to put my thoughts into words even if its just a bunch of copy pasting is even more annoying than just thinking them im ending this post 😭
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Ok, if you don't want to engage in some (queer) tin foiling... scroll away.
So first off, I think this song rules. It was one of the few that I let just vibe instead of doing what my brain usually does, which is scrutinize lyrics/marvel over the layers of meaning. It feels like it has Kill Bill energy and that was good enough for me.
My Albatross variation of the TTPD vinyl showed up yesterday — TTPD is perhaps the best her team has done btw — and was pouring over the lyrics last night and paused on I Can Fix Him (No, Really I Can) in particular.
The last line has been one that most people have chuckled at. Like she spent a whole song building up this menacing conceit: "this boy is bad news, but he can't hold a candle to me — I'll handle him." Only to be like, lol jk at the end.
But seeing that last line written out this way scratched at my brain... she really doesn't scream that line at all. Why is it in all caps? And while we're at it... I mean it's an accepted spelling, but technically the incorrect spelling of 'whoa.' It kind of felt, by putting it in caps, like she was calling attention to it. Was it an acronym? Not that I could tell.
But... just to double check... how had she spelled woah/whoa prior? The only song I could think of off the top of my head to check was Better Than Revenge. When reading her lyrics you really wont find 99% of the "whoas" in her discography written because they're more like instrumentals.
And that right there is a "whoa." Of course my eyes twitched at the matching colors of the two vids, but I'll get to that. And then I was only able to find one more written "whoa."
Ok, cool.
But back to Better Than Revenge... It struck me that something had been "fixed" about the song. The famous "she's better known for things that she's done on the mattress" line had been swapped out in the rerecording for "he was a moth to the flame she was holding the matches."
So I looked back at I Can Fix Him... could this be a joke/hint about "fixing" him. Like fixing the pronouns? "WOAH" is an intentional misspelling just by comparing it to her own body of work. But it would be rather clever if the "he" she's referring to (at least on this one layer of the song) was her use of that pronoun in her work. It would make the lines "I can fix him / No, really, I can / And only I can" make even more sense, imo. She's the author of this music and she's rerecording it/making it.
What's more is that the collaged flower in the lyric booklet and the aesthetic of the lyric video are giving me um... big Reputation vibes?
Hey kids, spelling is FUN! Am I absolutely living in delulu thinking that Reputation could also be "fixed" re: pronouns? Oh, I don't doubt it. But I needed to get this out of my brain, out into the world, and let the chips fall as they may and always do.
And at least Taylor Nation is also in on the joke...
#i can fix him (no really i can)#gaylor#the tortured poets department the anthology#TTPD#reputation tv#pronouns#hey kids spelling is fun!#WOAH!#*WHOA
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its kozy
#mortal kombat 1#johnny cage#kenshi takahashi#johnshi#instead of a brain these two are in my head#love em#mk1
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