#musings masterpiece
Text
“Afternoon John, how’ve things been?” Lestrade entered the flat nodding to the doctor who sat in his chair.
“Same-old-same old really, though Sherlock’s gotten a bit whinier recently-”
“I am not whiny I am simply complaining,” the younger man retorted with a huff,”My government-assigned doctor put me on a strict regiment of electrolyte drinks and vitamin supplements.”
Greg chuckled at the disdain present in Sherlock’s voice,”I hardly count John as ‘government assigned’ you two live together.”
“No, John is the government-supervised doctor, my government-assigned one is Dr. Reyes, she insists that I need to start getting more ‘essential vitamins’ in my system-”
“She’s right you know, you can’t survive on takeaway and coffee,”John sighed, tossing the grumpy man his bottle with said electrolyte drink in it.
“Watch. Me.”
“Sherlock-" John warned the consultant.
"I got this John," Lestrade waved the file in his hand,"Double homicide, locked door, no weapon. Take your supplements and drink your stuff, or I'm handing this to your brother."
Scandalised is the only word that could even begin to describe Sherlock's face at the moment. Purely, utterly scandalised,"You wouldn't."
Greg shrugged, turning back to the door with the file tucked under his arm,"Looks like Mycroft's going to have this all to himsel-"
"Fine!"
"Attaboy," He presented the file to Sherlock, who snatched it like an angry toddler.
"I hate you."
"Hate is a strong word, Sherlock," John chuckled, silently thanking Greg for the 'gentle' push.
"Despise."
"Better."
Tagging: @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @emaster875 @whatnext2020 @dinner--starving @loki-lock @kettykika78 @mycrofts-umbrella-in-the-tardis @gaylilsherlock @topsyturvy-turtely @colourfulwatson @safedistancefrombeingsmart @kyrameline @psychosociogentleman @peanitbear @astudyinbelgravia @justanobsessedpan @thesherlockandjohnshow @icatee @boldlygowhereitsbiggerinside @ethan @sherlockwatsons @totallysilvergirl
(let me know if you want to be taken off or put on!)
#bbc sherlock#sherlock holmes#john watson#johnlock#mycroft holmes#greg lestrade#sherlock#mystrade#musings masterpiece
195 notes
·
View notes
Note
https://x.com/robophiiia/status/1744208646559432846?s=46&t=QiKHdDdvKoMxWGyakqTvxA
I saw this tweet earlier and haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Like, I’ve seen this fan art posted so many times but never knew the source-
#I wouldn’t have expected a Japanese artist to have been behind this masterpiece lmfaoooo#classic#tkf replies#the-morose-musings-of-mewaddlee#would love to know why was this drawn…… ah#crazy about it
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
oughhhh bluey the sign.....
10 notes
·
View notes
Note
"Hello, princess," he murmurs in your ear as he saunters up behind you, letting his warm breath out against your neck.
His fingers snake up under your shirt, grazing your bare skin as he presses an open-mouthed kiss where your neck and shoulder meet, smiling after you give a little shudder from his attention.
"Such a good girl for me," Aemond rasps as he continues his exploration of your body with a ravenous mouth and hands filled with wander lust.
"My good girl, aren't you princess?"
🫣💚
My darling anon, I just... 🥵💨
This had me simultaneously swooning and grasping at my imaginary pearls. This left me all aflutter and in want of more.
Thank you. 💜
#ask arcie#she will make a tag dedication to my talented anons#☆ anon masterpieces#i am adding the link to my masterlist#aemond targaryen#my muse#your muse#sisterwives unite#and share your brilliant snippets
22 notes
·
View notes
Note
Started reading In Loco Parentis 2 days ago (needed to pace myself to study for an exam) and it is Hands Down the best creepypasta fic I've ever read. All the characters' abilities/stories are adapted in such a creative and refreshing way (looking especially hard at their Ben, all the pondwater/supernatural shit hyping up when strong emotions is So cool) and despite not having watched marble hornets yet, Tim and Brians characterizations are so interesting and compelling to read. Im only on chapter 6 currently but im So pumped to read the rest. In short thank you for introducing me to this masterpiece and also thank you for indirectly getting me back into creepypastas i haven't thought about my guys for like 2 years and im so glad theyre back in my head now :D
ITS SO. like god i wish i could instantly beam it into the mind of everyone who reads my creepypasta posts because it’s rewired my brain so much i fear a thorough reading of it is required to understand where i’m coming from. genuinely show much of what’s shown in it has turned into strict canon for me (ESPECIALLY ben like you mentioned because oh my god) everyone who is even slightly interested in creepypasta i cannot recommend in loco parentis enough when i say it rewires your brain chemistry i mean it. it is a masterpiece and i can only aspire to emulate like 1% of its beauty through my own posts. i have reread it no less than 4 different times since discovering it about a month ago
#muse talk#spitesprite#creepyposting#i always get so excited when ppl say they read a fic bc of my recommendation#I NEED MORE PPL TO BE INSANE ABOUT THIS FIC OVER#ITS A GENUINE MASTERPIECE#anyways good luck it only gets more insane from here
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
"BWAH?!"
"Sorry, would you rather I use proper terminology? It's been a while, but I'll try."
She clears her throat, and sweetens her tone.
"Master, won't you please let me suckle from your obscenely fat breasts so that I may outshine all these pigs lesser than me with my flab? I'd be really grateful. I wish to become a most bloated and greedy cow of a woman, with a body that may put even Avenger to shame."
She's stepping towards Passionlip now, and the Alter Ego's face heats up. Medusa's words are sultry and genuine, and each step she makes shows off her toned legs, flexing with muscle.
Passionlip is very confused on how to feel about this. On one hand, this lady DID just break into her office, started calling her by her and her sisters' designation, not her NAME, and is now staring her down asking for some of her thick fucking titmilk.
She has every right to be horrified.
But something about the way Medusa's manic grin and glowing eyes flash makes her also REALLY, REALLY turned on all of a sudden.
"W-Well, i-if you wanna have some that bad, there's always the ho-"
"W-Wait, no, that's a really bad idea! I-I can't let you do that, even if you ARE the prettiest lady I've ever seen in my life! Also, my name's Passionlip!"
Confessions aside, Passionlip's words cause Medusa to halt in her tracks, eyebrow furrowing in confusion as she twitches.
"I...cannot?"
At first, she's calm. Passionlip exhales in relief. Calm is good.
Then, the anger.
"Why in Olympus not, Sakura?! Am I not worthy? Have I erred in some way?!"
Her teeth gnash in frustration as Passionlip quivers...but the Alter-Ego stands her ground. She's grown a lot since coming to Chaldea in many different ways.
Medusa's just angry. She's not making threatening movements, and her voice isn't that threatening, despite increase in volume. She's just having an outburst.
She can do this.
"I-I just can't! I don't let anyone have my milk straight from the tap, it's too much! J-Just look at the pudding formula thing everyone else gets with breakfast that makes them bloat! My milk is the main ingredient!"
And it all comes together, for those acting as observers. Passionlip is Raikou and Boudica's third conspirator in the duo's goal to fatten all of Chaldea in their own special way, though it seems that she, unlike the other two, has some semblance of...limitations.
"...Mh. I...I see. That...is reasonable. For such a thing to be only PARTLY comprised of your milk...It must be truly potent indeed. Twould be a waste to get so fat so quickly...I must show the others my superiority slowly, make them realize over time..."
She's in her own self-absorbed logic loop, of course, but Passionlip's words have halted her. She's calming down, coming down from the high that is her lust, if slightly. It's a sudden change, a violent swap, and if Passionlip had not been blessed with a face that brought Medusa's submissive nature to the front like a boomerang, it's doubtful such logic would've occurred.
But Passionlip does get her feelings on the topic. Being small in Chaldea is both a blessing and a curse.
Sure, you can maneuever easier, and you'll be granted a lot of convenient privileges the larger Servants just don't have access to at their size...but you won't feel like you belong. At least, Lip didn't when she was 'small'.
Sure, she was a weight everyone WANTED to be, but she didn't look it. They treated her with respect, but not with friendship. That's why SHE got big. So she could be useful, and have friends.
So she can empathize with Medusa, even if their reasons are different.
"I'm sorry for bothering you, in that case. I hope you will forgive me for this, Sa-"
She bites her tongue.
A-Ah...Your name is not...Sakura, yes? Passionlip, you said...please forgive me. You just looked so much like my Master that I..."
This change in personality is entire genuine. It is true feeling, and it occured at the drop of a hat. Perhaps it is this one moment that best encapsulates her insanity after all.
'Oh, I'm gonna get so fired for this...'
Passionlip's empathy overwhelms her better judgement for a split-second. She's too caring, and that face Medusa's pulling is way too much.
'Fuck it.'
"U-Um! P-Please don't say sorry! I-I think I actually CAN help...! Sort of..."
"...Eh?"
Medusa was about to turn on her heel and leave, to go find another venue in which she can gain quickly. Harassing someone with Sakura's face is a good way to give herself and the harassee a lot of uncomfortable feelings. Medusa dislikes the idea of that.
But now...Passionlip is offering something. So she stays...and she stares.
"I-I can't...give you fresh stuff from the t-tap. Full blast like that'd ruin our entire base. B-But, um...there's a unique property, to my milk...M-My...uh...fat content..."
She squirms a little, embarrassed.
"I-If the stuff goes directly to a fridge instead of a bowl or glass, and it stays there long enough to cool down...the extra-fattening effects are d-dulled a bit...O-Only problem is..."
She sighs.
"Can you move back just a f-few steps...? I need to activate something you're on top of."
"A-Ah. Yes. Certainly. Sorry."
Medusa snaps out of her titty-ogling at the request, wiping drool from her lip as her face flushes red. For some reason, the fact that Lip isn't Sakura kind of makes her more embarrassed to have been that greedy in front of her.
She takes a step back, glancing down on the floor. There doesn't SEEM to be anything there; just a normal oaken floor, beautifully pristine despite all the pressure that is applied to it daily with Lip's mere existence...
"A-Alter Ego Gamma...R-Requesting funneling hose connected to refrigeration storage...code 7929 Blossom Sunrise."
Passionlip rattles off a series of phrases, eyes closed as if concentrating, and for a moment, Medusa thinks nothing will happen.
Then the floor shifts, and Medusa's core grows hot as something rises out of it.
A feeding tube.
"N-Nh...I see...~"
She's only ever seen it used once, on a day where Sei Shonagon (Berserker) was feeling particularly lazy, and demanded her lover fill her up with 'the good stuff' (likely just cake batter)...but just recalling that memory gets her even hotter.
She knows what's about to happen. It's such a thick tube, too...There's going to be so much.
"Um...y-you can just p-put your lips over it...It's sensor-activated, so it'll start pumping whatever's in there into your tummy...I'm only allowing you to have three bottles, though, okay..?"
By her estimate, that should be enough to get Medusa...satisfied.
"O-Of course, Lady Passionlip...my everlasting thanks...Fuck...~"
She's gyrating her hips again, trying to relieve herself through the denim of her white pants...
'The pants I'll be rendering useless before long..!~'
She's soaked even more now. It's self-defeating. She can't help it.
She opens her mouth. The tube sits at mouth-level, just waiting, begging, pleading for a worthy pair of plump lips to sliiiide down it and embrace their fate.
For once, Medusa loves her fate.
She doesn't even consciously shove herself forward. It's almost like she's falling. Falling, falling, down and down...just a puppet for her inevitable victory.
Her mouth takes it in without hesitation as she sliiides onto it like it's the most delicious shaft she's tasted in her life, eyes rolling backwards as it slides into her throat. That's the lovely thing about not having a gag reflex...no interruptions.
The world around her blurs to nothingness as the grrrlggglleee and glllrrrrooopppp... of heavy, thick, creamy titcream pushing up the tube enters her ear. It's close. She can almost see it bloating the tube with sheer mass, the chilled dairy getting closer and closer to her soft lips...!~
It passes her mouth, and starts tracing down her maw to the opening halfway down her throat.
That alone makes Medusa flood.
Then?
Impact.
"NNNNNNH!~"
The dull realization that she's throwing her dignity away like this IN FRONT OF someone hardly occurs to her when the first deluge hits her throat.
It's so fucking creamy.
The chill is evident and transparent, and Medusa bucks when she feels her throat cool down. She can already feel it working, and her shirt groans as her chest swells.
"HHUNNNHHH...~"
But there's a problem with being so good at deepthroating you can deepthroat a two-inch wide feeding tube.
She can't taste it. She's feeling it deposit in her belly, bringing an end to her thin nature for good (Finally. Worthless.), but she can't taste it. She wants to taste it.
In the only moment of rational clarity she'll have for the next few hours, Medusa manages to push the tube upward with her throat muscles, far enough that she can at least taste it on the back of her tongue.
It drives her further into ecstasy.
Lip's milk is somehow both sweet and not at the same time, like a creamy glaze that goes on cinnamon rolls. She drools as it pours down her gullet, the substance flooding her stomach like it owes the stuff rent.
Its effects are instantaneous too. Her hips are swaying involuntarily at the feeling, and she thinks she may go cross-eyed. It's too good. Her hands are palmed against the floor, because if they aren't, she won't be able to stay upright.
Speaking of her hips, they continue to swell as she gulps, and they go from birthing hips worthy of a goddess to the most obscenely perfect set of love-handles one could ever witness, straining her pants already as the softness gathers and pads it all, concentrated like it only cares about ensuring the fabric suffers as cellulite forms on Medusa's fat rear.
"Mmmph...~"
"Nnghh...~"
She's eternally grateful to Passionlip.
Even though only one bottle has finished, her breasts are already double the size they were when she started. Even though only one bottle has finished, her face has softened, and a second chin has started to form beneath her first. Even though only one bottle has finished, her legs are causing tears in the fabric of her pants, exposing her new, flabby thighs to the world (or, well, to the starstruck Alter Ego bolted in place before her) like a cow's ought.
But her belly's not big enough. She wants more. Sure, it's swelling into a gut. Sure, the more and more she lets drain into her stomach from this second bottle, she feels it swell and gurgle and groan and churn, but she's not there yet.
She's so close, she feels like she just needs an inch more. She's so close to the greatest moment of her second life. She's so, so close to...to...!
PING!~
She freezes. One of the buttons on her pants, one of the things that keep it up on her hips alongside the buckle, has pinged harmlessly off Passionlip's metal claw, clattering to the ground between them.
She stares.
Lip stares.
PING!~
Another flies off, smashing into her claws and falling to earth once more.
Medusa can hear her pants creaking under her swelling gut. Can hear them yearning to snap, to give her the edge she desperately craves...She pants into the tube, attempting to gulp faster and faster so it comes sooner and sooner...
"MMmh...!"
PING! Another button. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.
"MMMH!!!~"
She bucks her hips, eyes fully rolling back in her skull as she goes over the edge.
A CRRRREEEAAAAKKKKKK from her belt buckle. Followed by a GRRRNNGNNNNNNNN from her straining leather belt.
She takes a breath. She readies herself. She steadies her hands. And, when it finally, finally...
SNNNNNNNAPPPPPPPPP!~
Medusa lets go.
"HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!~~"
The belch shatters plates in the cafeteria. She's a mile away from it and she's causing glass to EXPLODE in the dish rack. Windows aren't safe either. Anything not reinforced by magic is dust in the wake of that rippling belch, and the sound is like a fucking monstrosity's bellow no matter where you are in Chaldea.
It's a message. For all to hear.
Look. At. ME.
#muse: medusa (saber)#muse: lip#n/sfw#tube feeding#half of it is a euphemism#massive fucking world-altering belch#greed in human form#god its so fucking long#this is my masterpiece#PART 2 OF 2!
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
How are you ruined?
ruined by loneliness
you are so lonely. you are miserable in your solitude. you hate that you cannot bring yourself to reach out, to ask for help. you will be forgotten by all who never knew you. your biggest fear is that you will die alone, and you know this fear will be seen to fruition. you refuse to extend yourself beyond the box that others put you in. and it is a box that no one dare come near. you are lonely because you are afraid of yourself.
ruined by fury
you are angry. you are angry and everyone knows it. the fire within you will not die, cannot die. for if it dies, you wont have a reason to burn. your rage simmers close to your chest, it boils near something you wont touch. you are angry because it is easier than anything else. you are angry because you choose it over pain. you are ruined because you cannot feel anything but your own ire.
Tagged by: @epitomees (thanks!!♡)
Tagging: @quillheel, @musesofthesun (Yui perhaps? :3c), @tvstarkuma, @tacitusauxilium, and setting this out like a nice pie on the window to cool for anyone who wants to steal it (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧
#masterpiece ;; MEME#muse ;; ryoji mochizuki#muse ;; ken amada#now its big brain time!#both are pretty well fitting but its those last two lines in fury o u c h
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
me @ my romantic f/os:
#crow's f/os#romantic f/os#the wind called for us to be together | k.h 🍁#my muse. our masterpiece | y.k 🎨#i hate you but i love you | scara 💜#solved the way to my heart | s.h 🔍#the adventurer and the occultist | r.a 💚#riddle's little troublemaker | r.r ♡#+ my other romantic f/os#self ship community#self ship#self ship positivity
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
Inspired by @frostcorpsclub and @manbehindthemask with credit to @lepoppeta for the original idea
A song moodboard for Azrael 💀⏳🖤 all songs and image credits under the cut!
Songs
Everywhere, Everything by Noah Kahan (image)
Iridescent by Linkin Park (image)
Shadow of the Day by Linkin Park (image)
Cigar by Tamino (image)
Bells in Santa Fe by Halsey (image)
De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier (image)
Wasteland, Baby! by Hozier (image)
SKIN TO BONE by Linkin Park (image)
#haven’t had the energy to draw but still wanted to create something so#Moodboard it is#oc#demons/angels universe#melo’s masterpieces#melo’s musings: art blog edition#moodboard#song moodboard#lyrics#songs#original character#death#tw death#azrael
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bebop Crew July Challenge, Day 1: Midnight
Thanks to the @bebopcrew community for the prompt list! I’ll be writing fics based on their July 30-Day Challenge all this month (if I can!); I’ll also be posting them to AO3 here!
Fittingly, I wrote most of this around/past midnight—my sleep schedule is so messed up these days that I’m most productive between the hours of 11 PM and 4 AM, so that’s probably when I’ll be getting most of these stories posted. So if you see me posting, for instance, my fic for Day 1 on what’s technically July 2, well…that’s what I have to say for myself.
This fic was also (minorly) influenced by @graysongraysoff’s first fic for Beboptober 2020, “3, 2, 1…Let’s Jam!”
Also, enjoy this rejected first line: “There are many benefits to being a marine biologist bounty hunter….”
As the clock ticked past midnight, Spike and Jet sat on neighboring barstools, keeping a sharp lookout for the bounty head who was rumored to pass through this bar tonight—or from a message from Faye indicating that the bounty head had visited the bar where she was stationed, instead. There had been no sign of the guy for a while, and the only messages from Faye just consisted of her complaints of boredom. (The bar was on a relatively remote asteroid, after all.) The anticipation and the silence—other than the occasional attempt at conversation from Jet or the crack of peanut shells (no drinks for them tonight, or at least minimal drinks; they needed to focus)—gave Spike a lot of time to think about the reasons he’d become a bounty hunter in the first place. The reasons he’d chosen this offbeat, freelance profession to fill this part of his life—such as it was.
Sure, the paychecks were irregular, often scanty, and—more often than the crew would like—nonexistent. And he wasn’t one to pretend that the money didn’t matter, that he was purely in the bounty-hunting business for the love of the job or whatever. And sure, one could go on and on about catching bad guys, keeping them off the streets, bringing justice to the world—and Spike supposed those were advantages too, though he preferred to leave the philosophizing to Jet. And they definitely weren’t the reason he’d picked up the work. Anyway, on nights like these—when he and Jet and Faye were in their element, and he was sure a fat stack of Woolongs was on their way—Spike preferred to focus on the more practical benefits of the job.
Spike knew he’d chafe in some corporate 9-to-5 job, or in retail or customer service, or in any position with set hours and fake smiles and a supervisor breathing down his neck. He’d struggle and squirm as if wearing an ill-fitting jacket. And he couldn’t imagine having to say things like “actionable items” or “let’s circle back” with a straight face. He often griped and complained about the woes of bounty hunting, but he was feeling unusually optimistic tonight, and he had to admit, the freedom that this job afforded him suited him perfectly.
Take the work hours, for instance. Twelve A.M. and he was wide awake, raring for a catch; in twelve hours he’d probably be passed out on the Bebop’s couch. And the job was so unpredictable that in another twelve hours, he might still be asleep. This was the kind of schedule that suited him; he wouldn’t have it any other way.
And to be honest, midnight wasn’t a bad time to be up and working. The sky outside the bar was pitch-black, but the streets hummed with life. As Spike looked around, he saw flickering neon signs, sporadic streetlights, headlights of cars and spacecrafts, and the occasional tiny flame of a lighter filling the darkness. And while he and Jet were quiet, the bar was replete with lively conversation, raucous laughter, and the sounds of games of pool, foosball, and darts, often accompanied by wild cheering. These were technically Spike’s work hours. This bar was sort of his office. The gun resting securely at his side served as his office supplies. What boring corporate job would let him say that?
For another thing, he didn’t have to deal with any stupid dress codes; he never had to memorize the meanings of words like “business casual” or wear the same polo shirt with the same embroidered logo of the same megacorporation as everyone else. He did business dressed up in a suit and tie because he wanted to, and, in his opinion, it looked stylish as hell. (As bonuses, it also allowed him a lot of freedom of movement and was very comfortable, as was evident from the few times Ed had stolen and wrapped herself in it, gleefully flapping the ends of the sleeves.)
Perhaps the best aspect of the job, though, was that every day of it was different. It brought the Bebop crew in contact with such a wide variety of criminals and other strange characters—from senile old chessmasters, to vindictive bombers using teddy bears as their weapons, to homicidal genetically-engineered clowns—that no two people they encountered were ever the same. And if Spike decided a bounty head was too boring, or too much of a small fry, he didn’t have a boss forcing him to take it. (More often, he had an empty bank account and a disapproving look from Jet forcing him to take it—but that was neither here nor there.) Also, the work took Spike and his crewmates pretty much everywhere in the Solar System. He was constantly on the move, never staying in any one place for long. It suited his restless spirit perfectly—and made sure that nothing, or no one, from his past would be able to catch up to him.
“Spike.” Jet’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “That’s the guy.”
Spike glanced over to where Jet was gesturing, and sure enough, the muscular, grizzled man entering the bar, with a suspiciously gun-shaped bulge under his trenchcoat, matched the description in the criminal records and the picture on Big Shot exactly.
With a grin, Spike rested his hand on his own gun. “Let’s get him.”
Sometimes, when he was in a more brooding mood than tonight, he’d reflect on how his life never felt real. How it felt more like a constant dream he could never wake up from. The ephemeral, meandering nature of bounty-hunting, with its strange and amorphous structure, felt dreamlike sometimes, too. And for someone on the outskirts of society, seeking autonomy—well, he guessed that applied to his whole group of crewmates, in one way or another—it was perfect. As much as he liked to complain about the job, it fit him better than he’d like to admit.
And here he was now, in the dead of night in a random bar on an even more random asteroid, easily dodging the bounty head’s blows and landing his own—without making too much of a scene that attracted the rest of the bar. The fight was over quickly enough that the man didn’t even need to pull out his gun. Just the way Spike liked it. As he threw the final punch that rendered the man unconscious and Jet tied him up, he was completely comfortable. Relaxed. In his element.
There were worse ways to spend a dream.
#cowboy bebop#bebop crew#july 30-day challenge#prompt challenge#anime#spike spiegel#jet black#midnight#bounty hunting#character study#fic#my fic#textpost#maya’s musings#maya’s masterpieces#hi bebop crew! i'm not dead!!!#apologies for just disappearing from the discord for a while#sometimes mental health just gets to be...A Lot#and sometimes the way to self-regulate is to take the pressure off yourself and write NO bebop fanfic#and other times the way to self-regulate is to write 1000 WORDS of bebop fanfic#all while listening to the killers' 'the cowboys' christmas ball'#20 times#on repeat#in july#that's just the way it is
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
"I have broken your heart too many times. I have laid my hands on you in ways that I never should have. I have left you before, but never again.
"I vow to love, hold, and cherish you till death, and even then I have a suspicion that we'll still be together. I vow to use these hands to piece together what I have broken. I vow to love you as I should have for all the years past.
"Never again am I letting opportunities pass. Every moment I can express my adoration, my love, I will take it with fervor. There will never be a day where I do not remind you just how much you mean to me.
"This is my vow, my promise to you. Here and forever."
"He'll definitely cry," Greg tipped his glass towards John, who had been rehearsing his speech for the umpteenth time- "And you, here and now, are panicking."
"Of course I'm panicking! How can I not?"
The silver-haired man stood, handing John his own glass of bourbon,"Breathe," He flattened a few wrinkles in the doctor's suit,"He loves you, you love him. If you stumble I'm pretty sure he'd find it endearing."
"I think there's too much repetition-"
"John-"
"There is-"
He took the glass, which was now half empty,"It's perfect, he's going to cry, you're going to cry, half of the reception is going to cry. Hell- I may cry."
"I'm a bloody crying shame-"
"John Hamish Watson, there is no shadow of a doubt that Sherlock loves you. So do some breathing exercises, drink water, and stop worrying."
Meanwhile-
"Have you written your vows brother mine?"
"... I had to write vows?"
Mycroft puts on an amused grin,"You can make them up as you go."
"Alright. I assume talking about murder would be not good on our wedding day?"
"He would find it endearing, but I suggest keeping the morbidity to a minimum."
Sherlock checked his suit for the millionth time, adjusting his lapels and tie. His curls at their peak condition, well manicured nails and even wearing an expensive cologne,"Myc…"
It had been decades since Sherlock had used the nickname for his elder brother,"Yes, brother?" a slight edge of worry in his voice.
"I don't want to mess this up."
Mycroft stood from the armchair in the corner of the room and embraced the younger Holmes in a true hug,"I promise you, today is about you and John, and nothing could mess it up. As long as you love each other, it will be perfect in every way."
"Easy to say for the man who's already gotten married…"
He held Sherlock's shoulders and looked him in the eye,"I mean it."
The younger thought for a moment before putting a hand on Mycroft's,"You're a good brother… and I don't remember the last time I expressed that to you."
"You don't have to,"He backed up, taking in how nervous his little brother was,"All you have to do today, is express your love for John. In oral- vocal form."
Sherlock snorted at the joke, putting on his first smile of the day. One that would be followed by many more, and would still be there as he fell asleep in John's arms.
#bbc sherlock#john watson#sherlock holmes#johnlock#mycroft holmes#greg lestrade#Mystrade#ficlet#johnlock wedding#sherlock fanfic#musings masterpiece
195 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beauté suprême de la laque de Nguyễn Gia Trí (1908 - 1993) au musée des beaux-arts de Hô-Chi-Minh-Ville
#culture#performing arts#residence#saigon#theater#theatre#vietnam#opera#painting#laque#lacquer#peinture#hoasi#hcmc#fine arts#beaux arts#museum#musee#masterpiece
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
thinking about mike being will's muse.
#will byers#byler#mike wheeler#please i need will to paint a whole entire masterpiece#and portrait of mike#will's muse
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
✨Jaime Santiago de la Barrera - Ultimate Sous Chef ✨
Passionate, neat and puntual. Jaime is an aspiring student from Mexico who desires nothing more than to better the wellness of the people around him, and he believes that change always begins with food.
With an eye for quality control, he was recognized by Hope's Peak Academy for his constant attention to the kitchen as he frequently taught his peers how to ensure dishes were up to health standards. And despite not being a Head Chef, his family's restaurant was awarded a Michelin Star thanks to him.
#~Masterpieces (Art Tag)~#~The Sous Chef (Jaime Santiago)~#Danganronpa#Danganronpa OC#DR OC#//Old Art but honestly im comfortable enough to introduce another of my DR OC's on this blog#//He was specifically made to make me remember of my Chef classes and lessons lmao#//He's tecnically still a WIP muse so i'm working on him still
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
ME FINDING OUT ABOUT THE WALPURGISNACHT RISING TRAILER SIX MONTHS LATER APPARENTLY.
MY GIRL MY BEST GIRL.
#musings#bandit#look#i need you to understand#there are very few characters i identify with as strongly as homura akemi#there may not be any#my girl did NOTHING. WRONG#we as the viewers think she did because of things we know she knew nothing about#ANYWAY#MY PRECIOUS GIRL IS COMING BACK#FINALLY#F I N A L L Y#....#no i haven't seen magia record or read all of the spin-off manga don't judge me#i still want my girl back#with more yuki kajiura masterpiece music please and thank
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
What Tarot Card Are You?
The Hierophant
The plan is perfect in every way. Everyone where they need to be, at exactly the right moment, with exactly the right smile. You have moved and manipulated the situation, but did you remember to put yourself in the correct position? You, after all, are still a player in the game - whoever thinks they control the pieces still has to make the next move eventually. Whoever is playing the game is playing against an opponent. Ensure that they have not played better than you.
Tagged by: @epitomees (thank youu!♡)
Tagging: @blazeoflife , @yukcri , @tvstarkuma , @braveryhearted (Maya!! :3)
#masterpiece ;; meme#muse ;; shuji ikutsuki#oh gosh i thought it would be funny and said heirophant#but this was too accurate
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
purpleunnie0
ıamunnie
l-vvne
l e n e
betsy-bradock
We Are Worthy. We Are Enough.
grab-a-bite
ALICE THIS IS NO WONDERLAND
gta-san-andreas-remastereum
👑 gta san andreas remastered cheats switch (PC work)