#mish talks books

[jeanmoreaux]

Hi, it's me again (the anon that asked for brain-rotting books) to tell you that I have finished These Violent Delights (or it finished me because that ending!! and the perfect final line!) I really enjoyed the book and my reading experience was very interesting because I noted right at the beginning that I relate to Paul in some ways and then he got increasingly more fucked up as the story went on and I just stood on the side lines rethinking things. Anyways I would love to hear your thoughts on the book, what stuck out to you, what did you annotate, why do you love it, I want to hear all of it💞

so idk if you follow me on goodreads and read my short review over there, but i think the reason why it's so brain-rotting to me is that it evokes such ambivalent feelings. i sympathise with the characters and their circumstance but at the same time i am appalled by a lot of their behaviour; i know that the love is there that gives paul and julien some much needed comfort, but so is the obsession that overtakes tenderness; i see that they are both victims of their (socio-economic, cultural, etc.) environment as much as they are perpetrators in their own rights. i love it when a piece of fiction uses such ambivalence to build tension. it evokes strong emotional reactions because you're feelings are pulled into every possible direction so that you end up experiencing a plethora of emotions while the story progresses. i think the fact that we're meant to initially sympathise with paul adds to that. it makes you feel indirectly complicit because you identified with him before everything derailed and it makes you question yourself for having that sympathy...

what probably fascinated me the most was the theme of violence that's at the heart of this story. it doesn't only depict various forms of violence (from social, emotional, physical to psychological), but also how these different forms of violence create, feed, reinforce, and perpetuate each other... they're different iterations of the same thing. and what really stuck out to me is how the violence in this book, in which ever form, is far more often an reaction than an action. in a way the sources of violence shapes and shifts and spreads to take several forms, but it's always the same violence that travels from vessel to vessel—whether that vessel be corporal or institutional or societal—and ultimately sustains a cycle of violence that fuels itself... like. god it's so hard to put in words but. the societal violence against marginalized groups such as queer people ignites in individuals a violence against individual queer people which can also take on the form of internalised homophobia and self-hatred as well as intimate partner violence or abuse (physical, psychological, emotional), which can be so destructive to the psyche that it might feed individuals' desire to pass along this violence and that ends up breeding an overall cultural atmosphere of fear that makes people afraid of everything and everyone they perceive as ‘other’ which in turn results in violence against marginalized groups such as queer people & the cycle begins anew... it's like an ouroboros of violence that devours itself and is reborn again just to devour itself again and again and again. a violent destruction. for me, this pattern is so clearly recognisable in the story of paul and julian and their relationship!! they’re being consumed by it in the worst way possible. and a lot of that has to do with existing as a queer person in a queerphobic world. (for me that's an undercurrent to everything in this book).

i think their obsession with each other plays into the themes of violence and queerness (and the space in which they intersect) as well. because what is obsession if not a love distorted by violence? how can you love someone tenderly when you’ve been told and taught that the love you feel is wrong and disgusting and abnormal? when all you’ve known is a form of love that has violence stitched into its very fabric? and so the love is tainted by violence and becomes obsession… because it seems like this is the only way you can keep it. because you were made to believe that that’s what you deserve because it’s probably all you’re ever gonna get. that people like you will ever gonna get.

there’s also an element of violence as a tool to reclaim agency and control. which of course backfires catastrophically. everything spirals until they lose control of themselves and their relationship. everything crumbles, their senses of identity, their trust, their companionship, their futures, their lives….. and the most telling thing is neither of them feels in control, ever, but they believe the other person to be in control and have the "upper hand" and hold all the power in their relationship. yet, they're both clearly manipulating each other to have their needs fulfilled. they both crave that all-consuming, unconditional love, but they have a hard time accepting it because they cannot even accept themselves. together, paul's self-hatred and julian's insecurities act as an antagonising force that leads them to bring out the worst in each other. because they have this twisted relationship with love (and being loved) due to their homophobic and otherwise toxic environment, they make a performance and a game out of their feelings because they have no healthy way to express their deep & intense love and devotion without transforming it into something twisted and destructive in the process. and that’s no coincidence. much like queerness, crime exists outside of what society deems acceptable or normal (in that historical period). more precisely, queerness and criminality both operate in the paradigm of social deviance. it’s like they keep turning to “violent acts” to express their feelings for each other because that’s the paradigm they are familiar with and the only paradigm in which they can act out their relationship in public and in private.

and the tragedy of it all is that it didn’t have to end this way but it was always going to end this way because their needs were too similar and neither of them could break out of their own cycle. they enabled each other and took from each other until they imploded. ((that's basically what the last line implies, in my opinion. that, at least how julian sees it, they never stood a chance and were always going to end up in flames.))

BUT THE LOVE WAS ALWAYS THERE. EVEN WHEN IT WASN’T ENOUGH. EVEN WHEN THEY WERE DOOMED FROM THE START. THE LOVE WAS THERE. and that’s something that just makes me insane.

also, there are some themes of identity formation (especially of marginalised identities) and performance that really, really fascinated me. and ofc the theme of performance kind of blended into the idea of being the narrator of your own life story and how you adjust and change the stories you tell yourself and others. ((with that in mind, the last line, or even juilan's last gesture, can also be read as a revisionary interpretation of their relationship. an statement that adjusts to the knowledge of hindsight but doesn't necessarily represent the truth of what they could have been.)) i could go on but this ask got out of hand already soooo, i am just gonna stop here.

as for what i annotated: i included some pic of a couple of annotations under the cut, so you can get an impression.

i know my handwriting is abysmal. it’s even worse when i have to keep it small so it can fit in the margins.

this is just to give you an idea of how i approached this text. it’s not super elaborate or thought-out because i read this for fun, but i still tried to capture some of my ideas and the themes i could find for myself in the text.

#i don’t even know what to say about this word vomit soup. #this book just really got to me idk #would looooove to hear some of your thoughts!!! #have a lovely day <3 #anon #answer #mish talks books

[theskeletonatthewritersblock]

When Catha nearly dies after an attempt on their life, they wake to the loss of sight in their left eye, and the ability to see into the oceans of Tathos, of the Seraphina galaxy, which is contained in a reality separate from their own.

Vicen falls at the hands of a rival Sea Master, but when he rises it is with sights on a city known as Palmoa, located on a world not light years away, but time lines.

Together Catha and Vicen, bound by a tether stronger then the laws of reality, must aid in their separate struggles to seek revenge on their killers, and stop a gate from opening that may see the ultimate destruction of both of their worlds.

#writing #book idea #story idea #someone steal this so i can just freaking read it #they both wear eye patches other wise it's distracting as hell #they can talk to one another through the connection #Vicen has horrible burn scars that are a result of something #colloquially known as a reality bomb in yet another reality entirely #the so called bomb being a magical spell unleashed in yet another reality #which tore through the different discs of the universe and create a temporary gate #which freed terrible monsters in yet another reality #but which in all of them created a radioactive explosion #which destroyed his epidermis in Vicen's reality #idk i have a buncha buncha buncha worlds that are all connected through the same permanent gate #and the bomb that made the temporary one cracked through a few #resulting in people with horrible scarring like Vicen's #any way Vicen is basically a pirate except his world is more fantastical then ours #the whole seraphina galaxy is a mish mash of cosmic horror meets high fantasy #leaning more towards the fantasy #i have one that leans more towards the horror it's okay #Meanwhile Catha's reality is as close you're going to get to our own so it's kind of basic #except it's kind of cyberpunky #vicen is all joker with a chip on his shoulder #Catha is an actor with very few personal connections and clinical depression #Vicen has chronic pain all of the time and Catha will have the assassination attempt #ship dynamic: let's take ibuprofen together #both of them are NB and otherwise queer and they would die for each other pretty quickly in the story but oh no they can't meet in person #maybe #there's the idea now write the story someone #im too lazy

[yourmomsgranddad]

— PAPER RINGS

— PAIRING: Kate Bishop x Jones!fem!reader

— SUMMARY: MJ knows Kate likes you so she tries her hardest to get you two together.

— WORD COUNT: 4.3k (dang)

— WARNINGS: i think there's a curse word but too lazy to find it, i know there aren't lockers in college but let me be

"Kate, stop!"

She was pulled out of her daze that she was stuck in, and she realized where she was. In the cafeteria with her friends. She still had her backpack and she forgot to take it off.

"Stop what?" She wondered, finally looking at Peter. He looked annoyed with her, like what did she do. "Staring at Y/n. It's getting creepy, dude."

This was a common occurrence, Kate and her friends would sit down and immediately her eyes would shoot to where you were.

It was getting creepy, Peter was right.

"If she wants to stare, let her. She doesn't say anything when you do." MJ called behind Peter, her nose was in her book like usual and it was like she wasn't even there.

"Yeah. MJ's right. I never say anything when you ogle Gwen."

"I DON'T OGLE HER!" He was very quick to defend himself and got very loud. He looked around to see if anyone else was looking at him, and surely enough, no one cared.

"Sure you don't! I bet you know what she's wearing today." Kate tested. She smirked as he fell into his seat, she knew her friend way too well and he knew it.

"I hate you sometimes."

She stuck her tongue out at him teasingly, causing him do the same. "You two are such children." MJ weighed in once more before picking up her stuff and leaving the table. They both watched as she walked across the cafeteria and sat right next to you.

Kate's eyes never left as she watched you get excited talking to MJ and giving her a hug.

It never stopped crossing Kate's mind that you were MJ's sister. In the middle of lunch, at the same time everyday, MJ would take her stuff and go sit with you, her sister. She wanted so badly to ask MJ if she could go with her but something in her was just stopping her from saying it.

So she stayed silent every time she walked away, completely filled with regret.

Kate looked at the clock and suddenly an hour had passed. She didn't even realize she was in the library that long. She was about to get another tardy. Crap.

She shoved all of her stuff into her backpack and just started running.

She was not looking where she was going, she didn't care who she was bumping into, she needed to get to class and these people were just blips in an already bad day.

She thought she was going to speeds unknown to man. She thought she was basically the Flash. She thought she was going to make it to class on time. But of course, something had to get in her way, in the form of a piece of metal.

She went flying into someone's locker, making her fall down.

"Dude, you were going top speeds! Are you okay?" The mystery person wondered as Kate started rubbing the bump that was beginning on her head.

The person who slammed their locker into her, got down to her level and started rubbing her head for her. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you." She began shaking her head, muttering some 'it's fine's' before her eyesight came back to normal and she saw who she bumped into (and who was touching her head).

It was you.

"I think you should go to the nurse, Kate. You collided in that locker a little hard." You sucked in some air as you grimaced at the bruise on her forehead. "How-how do you know my name?" Her words came out a little dazed as she was starting to feel the weird of her injury.

"You're Mish's friend. I know all of her friends."

"Mish?"

You didn't hear her confusion as you helped her off the floor and started guiding her down the hallway, away from her class. "Wait. What about my class?" She began reaching back, almost trying to push herself in the other direction.

"Kate, you're bleeding. I think class can wait."

So she stopped pushing, just walking alongside you, not knowing what to say. This was basically the first time she was talking to you and she was bleeding. Today was going great.

She hadn't even realized how close she was to you right now. She could finally identify the scent that would come from you. Everyday she would wonder what you smell like but she only ever got a small whiff since you were always walking past her but she finally got it.

"What perfume is that?"

"Oh. Some fancy one my mom got me for Christmas. I don't know why I keep wearing it. It makes me smell like a bougie bitch." You griped, rolling your eyes at your own decisions.

"Really? I think you smell wonderful."

Your expression softened at the sound of her compliment. You never heard someone compliment your scent before. In fact, that bougie bitch comment came from MJ when you got it.

"Thank you."

You gave a little look, expressing your gratitude. She returned your gaze and almost didn't want to look away. She never seen your eyes up close and she kind of wanted to cherish it, just in case, this was a dream she was about to wake up from.

Sadly, your staring contest was shortened as you finally made it to the campus nurse. You opened the door with your free hand and helped her sit down on the little couch they kept in the waiting area.

Luckily, there was no one in there today. So they could get to Kate immediately.

"What's going on with her?" The nurse asked you as you went to take Kate's temperature. "I hit her in the face with my locker." You mentioned, almost slumping to make yourself look smaller.

"Why do you kids keep doing this? At some point, you would just stop swinging your lockers open." The nurse seemed to be at her last straw, a lot of other kids probably came in for the same thing.

"Kate, I'll get you some ice and you can lay down if your head is bothering you. I'll give you both late slips." You nodded and the nurse left you there with Kate for a few minutes.

"Sorry about the bruise."

"It's fine. I tripped over Peter's skateboard once."

"He skates?"

"No."

That caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth and suddenly, Kate was in a trance. It was the loveliest sound she had ever heard. She absolutely fell in love with it.

Maybe it was the blood rushing to her head but it seemed like you were moving in slow motion.

But surely enough, time was moving normally and the nurse had come back. She gave you your late slip and it was time for you to go. You waved bye to Kate and disappeared. All in slow motion.

She needed to lay down.

The bell indicating that next period was starting rang as loud as possible, waking Kate up from her daze. She didn't even notice she was sleeping until she heard it.

The nurse popped up in the doorway, causing Kate to jump and almost hit her head again. "Do you have a class you need to be in?"

Kate looked up in thought, there happened to be a picture of her schedule right in the front of her brain. It was Thursday and she was in her sixth period...where was she supposed to be?

"No! I have a free period."

The nurse nodded. "Well if you're feeling better, you can leave." Now it was Kate's turn to nod. Things were awkwardly silent as she grabbed her backpack and shuffled out of the nurse's office as quick as she could.

She face-planted onto her bed, completely disregarding any type of assignment her teachers gave her. It didn't matter right now. She was tired and her head was hurting.

She was almost asleep. Until she heard her phone beep from her pocket. She threw her hand back, just reaching around it like she didn't know where it was. And surely enough, it was from her group chat

emjay 📖: katherine!

kate 🏹: yes mj? is there something you need at this moment?

pete 🕸: we just wanted to know where you were during fifth period. you weren't in science class.

kate 🏹: yeah, because i was in the nurse's office.

emjay 📖: who'd you hurt?

kate 🏹: i was the one that was hurt. i haven't sent that many people to the nurse's office!

pete 🕸: tell that to poor ted! you send him to the nurse's office every other week.

emjay 📖: poor ted, man.

kate 🏹: what? do you guys have a crush on ted or something?

emjay 📖: no!

pete 🕸: a little.

emjay 📖: pin that conversation for later. why were you in the nurse's office?

kate 🏹: your sister hit me with her locker.

pete 🕸: okay! wattpad! did you get her number or did she get kidnapped afterward? did you guys make out or something? spill it!

emjay 📖: why are you such a woman?

pete 🕸: rude.

As she watched her friends bicker back and forth, she noticed an unknown number texted her.

??: hey.

She was a little wary at first, she didn't have a good track record with unknown numbers. They almost always tried to steal her money. She hoped that not what this was.

kate: hello? who is this?

??: oh sorry. that probably seemed a little ominous. it's me, y/n.

Kate froze. Not only was this the first time you spoke in person and touched, but now you were texting her. She was exploding, metaphorically and physically.

kate: oh! how did you get your number?

you: from mj. she gave it to me earlier today. said to text you or call if i ever needed to. i thought it was weird until i gave you head trauma earlier. 😬

She switched tabs real quick, going back to the group chat.

kate 🏹: michelle jones-watson!

pete 🕸: full name alert!

emjay 📖: don't call me watson. what?

kate 🏹: did you give your sister my number?!

emjay 📖: yes i did.

kate 🏹: WHY?!

pete 🕸: for love obviously. mj might not show it but she loves love.

emjay 📖: you start that, i'll break all your bones.

She decided to leave her friends to their bickering and go back to the previous conversation.

you: i didn't text to apologize if that's what you're thinking.

kate: oh? then what for?

you: to make sure you don't tell anybody about this. i'm already on the run from the law and i don't need this on my record.

kate: what about the nurse that helped me?

you: what nurse? 🤫

Kate's stomach settled as the two of you landed in a comfortable banter. Talking to you was more calming than she thought. Talking to you was easy, it was almost like the two of you were friends.

But then Kate noticed the time, you had been talking for a while.

kate: wow, look at the time. guess we should get some rest.

you: you're right. i'll see you later.

kate: night.

you: goodnight, kate ❤️

It was just an emoji. It was just pixels coming from a screen. Then why did her heart jump when she saw it? Why was there a tint forming on her cheeks? Wow, she was whipped and it was frightening.

She was going to bed.

Going into classes the next morning, she needed to tell someone about what happened the night before. She scanned the grounds for one of her friends. She spotted Peter, sitting on a bench, giggling with some guy.

She ran over to him, falling over into his lap. She didn't mean to fall onto him but she didn't care since he didn't.

The guy was long gone and they were just left alone.

"Katie? What's wrong?"

"I was texting with Y/n all night."

Things went silent between them. She looked up to find Peter's eyes opened wide in shock. He wasn't expecting her to say as much as she didn't expect it to happen.

"Why? How? When? Well I know when. But how?"

"Not only that. But when we were saying goodnight, she sent me a red heart." If it was possible, his eyes were even wider. "Dude." That was all he said, letting her know what he was thinking. And her only response was a nod, they both understood what it meant.

"How are you getting more action than me?"

"Oh how are things going with your Gwen quest anyway?"

Suddenly, he fell over and now he was in Kate's lap instead of the other way around. Now she was the one consoling him.

"Every time I try to talk to her, my throat closes up and my hands get sweaty. It's honestly getting annoying." He griped, burying his head in her lap further.

"What's getting annoying?"

They looked beside them, noticing MJ, who just happened to appear in the seat next to Kate. Holding her book, like she was already there.

"Peter's mad because he's weird and can't talk to women, especially Gwen." She let her know, as she continued rubbing Peter's back soothingly.

"You need to stop being weird. I know Gwen. Just be yourself and you should be fine." She wasn't even looking at him as she gave him this advice.

But he nodded, intaking it. Only time would tell if he could do it.

Things were comfortably silent as they just sat there, just enjoying the wind.

"Hi!"

You appeared out of nowhere, almost like MJ did, in front of Kate, causing her to fall over, behind the bench. "Oh shit."

You shuffled toward her, reaching down to help her up. "I feel like at this point, I'm a danger to you." You joked, laughing it off to make yourself feel less bad.

"No. If anything, I'm a danger to myself. You're just a bystander." Leave it up to Kate to make her head trauma about someone else.

Kate looked down, noticing your hands still intertwined. Just looking, you guys were drastically different.

Kate's hands had a few scratches here and there from when she gets so angry she uses her punching bag in the night. Her fingers were just riddled with rings, one on each finger. Her black nail polish was chipped and she didn't ever feel like fixing it.

Your were perfectly clean, your nails were constantly polished, not a chip in sight. You had rings on every other finger.

"Our hands look nice together." You muttered, looking down at your hands with a dreamy look in your eyes.

Kate froze. It's not that she didn't think your hands looked nice together, it's just that she was nervous. So she snatched her hands away, putting them behind her back. It's not what she wanted to do, but it's what she did.

You felt bad so you copied her movement.

Things were painfully silent. People walking by would feel the awkwardness, even if it was for a few seconds. So MJ decided to break it.

"So Y/n, are you going to that frat party tonight?"

"Of course."

"Cool. I was thinking about going."

"Huh?!" You all shouted in unison. It was common knowledge that MJ did not like interact with school functions, especially frat parties. So you were all utterly confused.

"Don't act so surprised. Classes are almost over. I want to be able to say that I went to a college party. And we're all going." MJ just decided for the group.

It's not that Kate's never been to a party before, her mom threw parties all the time. She's just never been to a party with you before. She was about to see a whole new version of you.

Her heartbeat was through the roof.

College parties were a different breed.

Kate's moms parties had adults in formal attire, champagne, and some light dancing here and there. This party was blasting some weird music that Kate couldn't decipher and everyone was chugging beers like there was no tomorrow.

This was normal for a college.

But not normal for Kate.

She followed MJ toward the kitchen, attaching to her like a child at the doctor's office. She was the only person she knew at the party besides you and she didn't want to lose her before she could find you.

That would be heinous.

The kitchen was already messy, drinks covering the floors and the cabinets. Some of them were full but most were empty.

MJ seemed to be in her element almost, opening the fridge and grabbing some food like she lived here. She didn't even care and neither did the frat guys who saw her do it.

"Yo Tyler, where's the peanut butter?" She shouted over the music to a guy sitting on a couch in the other room.

"Wherever you left it last time, MJ!"

"You guys are dirty! I hope you know that!"

He nodded, just accepting the statement. But it only caused Kate to be even more confused as she watched her friend make her sandwich.

"You've been to one of these parties before?" She wondered, standing next to MJ as close as she possibly could. "No. But sometimes I put food in their fridge because they don't eat."

Kate scanned the room, hoping to see you somewhere. She thought it was going to be like a movie, all the dancing kids would part, you two would join up in the middle, and kiss.

But it was nothing like that. It wasn't even close.

You entered shortly after her, and you were immediately welcomed, everyone shouting your name and coming up to give your hugs.

You obviously have been to a lot of these parties.

You pushed through the people, going right to your sister. "Making your sandwich I see." You mentioned, tapping her on the shoulder to let her know you were there. Even though, she most definitely heard everyone screaming your name.

Once again, you were in slow motion as Kate stared at you. She watched as you turned toward her and smiled when you saw her. You grabbed her hands and pulled in for a hug.

She thought this was a dream.

She heard some muffled speak coming from your mouth and now she knew she was tripping.

"Huh?" She shouted, hoping you would repeat yourself. "I said you probably shouldn't drink with your head injury. It might not be safe." Her heart swelled, she loved that you cared so much about her.

"But it's a party. What am I supposed to do if not drink?" She joked, leaning against the counter. "It'll be okay. I'll hang out with you all night."

She thought you were joking which kind of made her sad but you weren't. You stayed next to her all night, talking about everything under the sun.

You both realized that the music was hurting your ears so you found a quiet room and sat on the floor in front of the door.

So no one would just walk in.

You found out everything about each other.

She found out you were a few minutes older than MJ, you loved video games, and that you were one of the few people who actually enjoyed your classes.

"What are you, a nerd or something?" She joked but you just smiled, answering her question. Her eyes went wide as she playfully shoved you. "No way!"

Things were weirdly silent between you as you just sat there, staring at each other. She wondered what was happening and why the talking stopped.

But then she noticed what was happening.

She followed your eye line and surely enough, you were looking at her mouth. Before she could say anything about the awkward silence, you put your hand on her cheek and pulled her into you for a deep kiss.

She wasn't expecting it but she surely welcomed it. She always dreamed of kissing you and now it was happening. She didn't know what to do with her hands, oh no. She was freaking out about her hands when she was literally having her dream kiss.

Wow.

As the two of you were moving closer and the kiss was getting a little more heated, someone tried the door, twisting the knob with no avail.

That made the two of you jump apart, like you were in trouble.

But as quickly as they came, they were gone. And now things were again awkwardly silent. You had just basically made out with Kate and you usually didn't know what to do after this.

So you decided to leave.

"This has been fun but I have to get home. Maybe we could do it again." You winked before exiting through the door, leaving Kate there to think of what just happened.

She thought her head injury was working overtime and she was just imagining everything that just happened. She was still in her bed at home and none of this was happening.

She was being crazy.

She wasn't being crazy.

She woke up the next day and everything that was yesterday was waining on her now. Her eyes were adjusting from being under all that dark light in the frat house. Her makeup was messed up from not taking it off before she went to sleep.

Everything yesterday happened.

She made out with you yesterday.

Yikes.

She got dressed for class and went to find Peter once again. He was talking to Gwen and he wasn't being a humongous dweeb. But she disregarded it. "Dude!" She screamed as she ran up to him, out of breath.

"What?!" He shouted, already sprung into action.

"I made out with Y/n last night!"

"What?!" Everyone in the general area looked right at him, causing both Gwen and Kate to put their hands on his mouth.

"Jeez you are loud." Gwen mentioned, dropping her hands from his face. "Loud for you." He tried, it didn't work at all. Gwen and Kate just scrunched their faces in disgust.

"Don't ever say that again." Kate told him, Gwen nodding along with her, solidifying her point.

He shook his head too, agreeing.

It went silent once more as Peter and Gwen pointed behind Kate, making her look. You were walking toward her and she wasn't ready to talk with you. Not yet.

So you did what any sane person would do.

She ran in the complete opposite direction. She ended up bumping into someone, leaving them down on the floor. "Sorry, Ted!"

"Ted!" Peter shouted, being all dramatic about him falling.

'Since when are him and Ted friends,' Kate thought to herself but she didn't feel like stopping her run to ask so she moved on. Peter was weird, Ted was weird, it was a match made in heaven.

She continued running all day.

Until she couldn't.

She was packing up and the professor had left. She was in the back of the class, putting everything away when you popped up in the doorway. She wanted to book it but you were in the only exit and she wasn't going to leave her expensive backpack here.

She was stuck.

"Hello." You greeted all ominously. "Hi Y/n. It's lovely to see you." She tried but you weren't budging on your angry expression. Understandable.

"Was it lovely to see me when you ran from me?"

She walked right into that one.

"I'm sorry." She finished packing her stuff and ran right up to you almost immediately. "What happened? I thought we had fun last night."

Kate didn't realize while she was running that she was sending the absolute wrong message. She liked you but was just too scared to tell you. Yet she was a superhero? It doesn't really make any sense.

"I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to you. So I ran."

You sat down on the teacher's desk, just awaiting for her to explain herself. So she sat next to you and started talking.

"I like you, okay. I was scared to talk to you all school year but I didn't. So when you hit me with your locker, I figured, perfect time to speak. But then I didn't. Then we started texting, perfect time to tell you. Then I didn't. Then you kissed me and I finally going to say something. Then I got scared and ran. And now we're here."

You sat silent for a few minutes, processing what she said. It look like you were putting the pieces together.

"Why didn't you say something? I was flirting with you because I thought you liked me." Her eyes shot open and her face crunched. That's kind of mean. And teasing. You noticed the look on her face so you explained yourself.

"I like you too. MJ told me you liked me back because she knew I had a crush on you and it was driving me crazy." You gave her one more shove and she suddenly put all the pieces in place.

"Wait a minute. MJ was the one who gave you my number." She mentioned, everything in her brain going into the right spot. "And she's the one who made you go to the party." You added, understanding where her mind was going.

"MJ was playing matchmaker this whole time." Kate giggled, Peter wasn't lying. She did love love. "But something doesn't make sense." She wondered, putting her finger in the sky.

"What?"

"How did she make it so you hit me with your locker?"

"She told me she wanted to borrow my lip gloss, I should have knew something was off when she asked but I just wanted to help. She knew you weren't in class, so she figured we would bump into each other."

"She didn't account for the nose bleed, did she?"

"Maybe she did."

Out of nowhere, you both bursted into giggles.

#help lol #show #marvel #marvel imagine #peter parker #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop fanfiction #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x you #kate bishop

[crownedinmarigolds]

Welcome to my art/hobby/fandom/etc blog! My name is Kelsey, CrownedinMarigolds on Tumblr, and I've been on this website since 2012? Yep I'm an ancient being. If you're interested in supporting me or giving me a little tip for doin' what I do, here is my KO-FI! Zero pressure of course.

My favorite subjects to draw are primarily OC based, and the sandbox I play in is usually Vampire the Masquerade/World of Darkness! But of course I love all manner of TTRPG. While I have things I like consistently, I will reblog and talk about all kinds of different things that may be out of left field! This is my mish-mash blog, just be warned! I'd also like to shout out my true love, my muse, my baby-daddy: @thesixthplaneteer. He's a very talented writer and a lot of my work and his work are intrinsically tied together! Most of my OCs are drawn with his and his work provides some context for all the fun things I draw for us!

My art commissions are: officially closed so that I may spend time with my family for the summer!

My quick-sketch commissions are always open! These will close officially in the month of June as I will be out of town.

If you're interested in commissioning me, please see my commission information here! Here are examples of my work//my art tag in case you'd like to get a feel of my art style before making a decision. I love a messy and painterly style so please understand that before reaching out!

Here is how I usually schedule my time when I'm working on commissions, in case you were interested!

OC Directory beneath the cut, just felt like making it!

My OCs:

Noa Hidalgo-Giovanni - my main OC, my Giovanni/Hecata necromancer! I will probably draw her across multiple AUs/fandoms so don't be surprised to see her.

Khloe Osborne - my current VTM/V5 PC in my husband's chronicle, The Poisoned Peach, ATL by Night! She is a Ventrue Thinblood, in a coterie with three other Thinbloods as they try to stop the Atlanta Camarilla from enslaving the local Thinblood populace! I also like to put her in Baldur's Gate 3 art too.

Parvati - another favorite character of mine. She was originally my first real Pathfinder PC that I played for a long time. I also started writing a book about her titled Crowned in Marigolds, sort of based on the Pathfinder world she had been placed in. She is now my Vampire the Masquerade Ravnos Elder who is in the Ministry/Followers of Set!

thesixthplaneteer's OCs (the OCs I treat like mine but are actually not!)

Dr. Nythanel Loken PhD- Elder Thinblood, the Thriceborn! The big favorite and Noa's other half. Cute and full of the audacity!

Ralph - The perfect man - a Thinblood that got cursed with the Nosferatu bane (lite). He's Khloe's boyfriend in my current Chronicle. Former Spec Ops but Embraced out of spite because he was hot. (Did NOT go well for the sire!)

Stakebait Coterie - The group Ralph and Khloe are a part of which also includes Christian and Kyle! The four best friends that anyone could have!!

#crownedinmarigolds #personal #pinned post 2 - updated 03.09.24 #information post #about the blogger #about me #oc directory

[minecraftbookshelf]

Who Speaks What Language: The Fae Squad Edition

Scott: Speaks Quenya and Sindarin as dual first languages. Is fully fluent in Silvan. Fluent in Mythlandic but has a notable accent and speaks very formally. Decently fluent reader of Pixandrian but his pronunciation sounds like he learned it from books, because he did, and constructing sentences is difficult. His comprehension is much better than his functional vocabulary though he gets caught off guard when words aren't pronounced in a way he thought they were and it throws him off. Can recognize some common Galactic words but just in the basic pattern recognition sense. Only speaks a few basics of Mezalean and none of the Oceanic Dialects. (This results in a distinct lack of overlap in languages he speaks comfortably and languages Jimmy speaks comfortably, which is a surprise tool that will provide us with dramatic tension later ;) )

Xornoth: Speaks Quenya and Sindarin as dual first languages. Is fully fluent in Silvan and Mythlandic. Does have an accent in Mythlandic but it is less strong than Scott's. Does still speak formally but that is less a lack of familiarity with the language in an informal setting and more general social awkwardness. Is actually more comfortable with the Helianthian dialect due to most of their casual interactions being with Pearl. Has their Helianthian trash talk down to a fine point. Has learned a significant amount of an, ahem, specific category of Lost Empire vocabulary via Joey. Can read Galactic fluently against their will. (Thank you, head demon.) Speaks enough Mezalean and Pixandrian and Manual Oceanic to fake their way through formal greetings but no more.

Katherine: Silvan is her first language, fluent in both Quenya and Sindarin. (She and Scott were unofficially pre-engaged at one point before Shit Went Down so they both learned each other's languages. They were also each others only friends at that point so there was that.) Has made it her mission to be able to speak to everyone in their own languages as part of her quest for peace and neutrality. Has mastered Mythlandic, is passingly familiar with the Helianthian dialect. Can hold a basic conversation in Oceanic, substituting her wings for fins on the manual side and her vocal chords are close enough to most Sea Folk that she can manage some of the verbal components that are beyond the other Land Dwellers. Not all of them, but some. Only started learning Swamp Speech and Lost Empire Language recently, is still a bit unfamiliar with them. Fluent in both Pixandrian and Mezalean. Played hooky on her Galactic lessons. Has been learning Gnomish as well. Is maybe focusing a bit more on that language over Swamp and Lost Empire, despite the lack of political gain.

Shrub Berry: Comes from an entire different dimension, is operating at a distinct disadvantage linguistically. Joey and Katherine have been helping her learn Mythlandic, with some basics in both Lost Empire and Silvan. They have both also been learning Gnomish in return, which she appreciates more than words can express. Of the writing systems in the Empires, Mezalean is the one they've had the easiest time with, which has resulted in an interesting mish-mash of languages anytime they have to resort to written communications. Prefers to stick to speaking when possible.

-

The Ocean Alliance Edition

The Wither Rose Alliance Edition

#empires smp #empires s1 #xornoth #shubble #shrub the gnome #rain rambles #jornoth #flower husbands #implied #nature wives #also implied #this one is longer than the others bc i wrote it on m computer instead of my phone #sorry but not really #smajor1995 #marriage of state au #katherineelizabeth #mos: worldbuilding #mos: scott #mos: xornoth #mos: katherine #mos: shrub

[fictionadventurer]

I happened to see a good chunk of the Netflix Persuasion. I can't give a complete review or analysis or whatever, but I have thoughts.

This movie has some very pretty colors. I like cool color palettes, what can I say?

There was one shot of a purple sunset where I was like, "Oh, I could live in this picture."

The aesthetic was so trendy I couldn't take it seriously. The clothes were that 2019 Little Women cottagecore vibe with lots of poorly-fitted textures and layers and colors. I laughed out loud at the Big White Text announcing LYME or BATH, because it's such a specific vibe.

I tried to detach from any notion of it as an Austen adaptation, and just enjoy it as its own movie that just happens to take place in a history-flavored fantasy world where everyone uses modern speech. Because sometimes those stories can be fun. It still didn't work.

Because it mostly just confused me. It was this weird mish-mash of genres and tones that didn't really blend together. Oil and water. It was Pinterest and Hallmark and Austen and College Humor and Instagram and Feminism and it's all felt like it came from completely different movies.

It was trying to be a sincere period drama love story and a goofy parody at the same time and it just didn't work.

Like, there were some sweet moments in it. Anne talking about poetry to Captain Benwick was rather nice.

But then you've got things like the weird octopus-sucking-my-face story Anne tells at Lady Dalrymple's. Even that could have worked okay in context, because Mr. Eliot jumps in and turns it into a metaphor about identity, which helps to cover for Anne's awkwardness and shows that he's willing to help her out. But then they keep bringing up the octopus as a sort of pet name and it's just so weird and doesn't fit with the rest of the story.

I've gotten ahead of myself so I'm going to backtrack to some specifics.

Mary Musgrove was excellent. Spot-on. I love how she's visibly younger than Anne. First adaptation I've seen that emphasizes that.

It was interesting how they emphasized the Mrs. Clay storyline. It actually sparked some interesting thoughts about the differences between the male social climbing of the sailors (shown in a positive light in Austen) and the female social climbing of the marriage-seeking ladies (shown in a more negative light).

I've never had a clearer picture of why Mrs. Clay matters so much to Mr. Elliot. Even in the book, it's a bit muddy, but it's crystal clear here. Mr. Elliot telling us his schemes straight-out did have the benefit of making the story very easy to follow.

I've got to back up again.

They completely altered the Anne/Wentworth storyline by mixing around all the plot points.

After they go to Bath, Wentworth seeks out Anne, says that they haven't had a chance to talk, and tells her how he always admired how good she was in an emergency. And this was before the staircase scene. I was extremely confused, until it hit me--this is a dream sequence! This is how Anne wants it to play out, but then she'll wake up!

But no! This actually happened! Wentworth says all this very sincerely and passionately, leading up to him declaring...that he wants to be friends. (At least there's context for "We're worse than exes--we're friends.")

It completely alters the trajectory of their relationship. Instead of jumping from the passion of hatred to the passion of love, Wentworth has gone to the other end of the pole--friendly indifference. He likes Anne and is totally okay with her marrying someone else.

I think they changed it so Mr. Elliot could be a serious contender in the love triangle. Wentworth has let her go--can she find happiness with someone else? I'll admit it's an interesting change, even if it's not Persuasion.

But it also seems like they're trying to make Wentworth a Suitable Love Interest for the Twitter Generation. Wentworth gets weirdly bristly with Mr. Elliot. Then Wentworth apologizes because Anne is a strong woman who doesn't need his protection. He tells her she should have been able to be an admiral. He's being mature and letting go of his resentment and wishing her well and showing that he doesn't like Regency Gender Roles. It's like they're shaving away his character growth in favor of a bland Nontoxic Relationship (TM).

But then Anne likes Mr. Elliot because he's bad? He openly talks about how he's trying to wreck her father's relationship to get the title. He insults her family. And she likes it.

This version of Anne holds her family in contempt. She doesn't like them or how they treat her and she openly disdains it. So she connects with Mr. Elliot. But the book Anne seems sad for her family--she doesn't like their behavior because she wishes they could be better people. She has compassion while movie Anne is resentful.

Persuasion is all about restraint. This movie is all about lack of restraint. People speak bluntly and say what they think and openly insult people. It's a completely different culture from the usual Austen movie, because it's modern culture. Which emphasizes how little we value good manners and restraint.

It's also weird how in changing the story, they also turn it into a generic rom-com. There's a more blatant love triangle between the good boy and the bad boy. Wentworth is starting to fall in love with Anne, but he's got an opportunity to advance his career, and he has to decide within a few days, oh no! It's textbook romcom plot points.

There was another point that I'll probably think of later.

EDIT: Oh, I just remembered! I think it was that the movie was so interested in the vibes and emotions of each individual scene that it didn't bother to try to stitch them together in a coherent whole.

The ending kiss looked 1000% like the cover of a cheap romance novel.

And the final moral of "don't let anyone tell you how to live your life" feels so simplistic and selfish and weird.

Overall, I'm not angry. I'm just confused. It's not the type of movie to arouse any kind of emotion other than "Huh???" And maybe a bit of regret that they couldn't have done better things with the interesting bits.

#persuasion #netflix persuasion #jane austen #this is really bad and rambly but i can't put it into any better order #probably because of how disjointed the movie (and my watching experience) was #i wouldn't have sought out this movie in a million years but since it happened to be on in the background i took the opportunity #it was the best way to do it because i didn't feel like i was losing any of my life to actively choosing to watch this #i was just casually analyzing

[sheydgarden]

Question: I am ethnically Jewish, though not culturally (complicated family history). I read your book on the roots of Antisemitic origins of Solomonic magic and wanted to ask:

If working with the Ars Goetia as entities themselves may be problematic: could reframing and restructuring the paradigms to re-imagine the listed demons and create new demons to work alongside be a better solution? I do enjoy the recent demonological work I’ve started but seeing some of the origins, it makes me wonder if my workings could be adjusted by basing my rituals in values I personally have and reframing it away from the work found in Solomonic Texts.

You had said in your Zine you yourself had worked to strip the Antisemitism from the Solomonic Imagery and parts of the practice and I was wondering if you had any advice on that process because I do find it fulfilling to ritually work alongside entities like this but am wondering how to do it in a better way?

hi! i'm gonna answer this one publicly so that i have something to refer folks to here when they ask me this same question (which i've gotten before), hope that's cool! also, apologies for the length of reply, but that's what happens when you open this particular box with me, haha.

i'm just gonna give it to you straight (and this is my opinion, of course, i know there are plenty who disagree with me! but you asked me) - i don't think there's anything you can do to "Solomonic" magic to render it not antisemitic. the antisemitism isn't a nasty veneer you can scrape off to get at some good stuff underneath - it's baked in. the entire premise of a book about a "powerful Jewish magician" who worked with Christian demons (who themselves are just a mish-mash of names & concepts from various cultures) is antisemitic. in the case of the Lesser Key specifically, we're talking about a book most likely written & distributed by Christian clergy (that's who had access to the education & tools required!) who were at the same time actively contributing to Jewish genocide. it's the foundation of the thing.

when i talk about my sigil artwork that uses grimoire-inspired imagery, i'm talking purely about holding onto an aesthetic, a visual language of lines. i can take out antisemitic visual signifiers easily because i'm only working with an image out of context. i don't think it's possible to remove antisemitism from the concept or the practice of Solomonic/ceremonial magic, at least not without completely altering it at its core - and then why bother basing anything on it at all? (i'm a Jew, not a western occultist, so i haven't tried)

i think really considering what exactly it is you've been getting out of this might make things clearer for you in terms of how you want to proceed. if it's the "Jewish" flavor, there's a whole world of actual Jewish folklore & mysticism, complete with demons of our own - you mention having Jewish ancestry, but not being culturally or religiously Jewish, so i would definitely recommend making a connection to Jewish community & learning a lot before you dive into any kind of Jewish spirituality. if it's just the concept of calling on entities via ritual work - why these? why not your own inventions? the demons listed in the Lesser Key were pretty much invented during the Renaissance, even if some of their names come from older sources. occultists combined, embellished & invented them to fit into a Christian theology, using a faux-Jewish origin story in order to lend them both more credibility (in a time when Jews were literally equated with demons!) and some spicy exoticism. i'm pretty baffled as to why so many folks still want to base a spiritual practice on that, beyond the fact that they're considered cool and/or sufficiently edgy if you grew up Christian.

if i'm being more blunt here than i was in the zine, it's because we're solely in "personal opinion" territory, and my honest opinion is that whatever folks find enjoyable about ceremonial magic could be better put to use in a framework that leaves Judaism alone entirely (and either honestly calls itself Christian - which it historically is - or creates a new cultural/religious system to operate under). i hope this was helpful - thanks for taking the time to read it!

#asks #antisemitism #FYMA: a lesser key

[windvexer]

heyyy heyyy Chicken, hope ya doin all good out there in the woods and in the worlds, vertically and laterally! so! another anonymous question time.

suppose one finds that they cant clair-this-or-that, they dont gets them visions or signs or shivers. like they be deaf or blind or incapable of any imaginations. like what they say? no internal dialogue something. inner twilight and darkness.

cant go to magical otolaryngologist or oculist (almost written occultist haha) because there is none.

what to do to unlock? how to?

Hi! I'm not sure if I understand you. It seems to me like you're discussing a wide range of things which I don't always believe are correlated to one another.

Aphantasia isn't, as far as I'm aware, the same thing as having no internal dialogue. Psychism isn't the same as receiving signs, and while may be related to intuition, isn't the same thing; people can have visions without having psychism or intuitive experiences.

You are incorrect to say that there are no magical otolarynologists or oculists. Practitioners who are able to diagnose and heal spiritual maladies do exist, and good ones aren't so hard to find as we may imagine.

However, just because someone doesn't receive visions/signs/psychic input/intuition, doesn't mean that anything is actually wrong.

An example is someone who doesn't exercise and can't lift a 100lb weight going to a doctor to be diagnosed for their lack of ability. There is no medical issue. There is no reason to suspect a medical issue.

The problem with a lot of common exercises, spells, etc., is that they are predicated on the idea that everyone is able to experience thoughts visually and linguistically.

I'm generally set on the idea that however a person normally experiences their own thoughts and processes the world around them is also how they should go about connecting with magic and psychism and so forth.

Being a visual thinker doesn't give people the ability to be psychic, you know?

A while ago I got frustrated with the ubiquitous use of "visualization" as a term in spells and exercises and replaced it with what I called OBFUK (observe, believe, feel, understand, or know). To me, this helped me understand the purpose of "visualization," because the way it's commonly used, I really don't think it's that much about imagining pictures.

In general, I believe that when most people talk about visualization, they're talking about some mish-mash of aligning intent towards purpose and then focusing on that real hard.

I'm re-reading Weaving Fate by Aidan Wachter and one thing I like about this book is that he focuses on the idea that during the mindspace exercise, you really don't have to see or feel anything. It's suffice to tell yourself, "I'm walking down the stairs. I enter into a corridor. I walk until I find a special door."

How would a person experience psychism and spiritual knowledge if they don't have inner dialogue or visual thoughts? Well, quite the same way they already experience their thoughts, I imagine.

Since you've brought up a ton of various things in your ask, I'm not sure if there's any way for me to say "here's how to unlock." Not that there's any one-size-fits-all program anyway. Sorry if I've understood your meaning.

#answered #or not answered as it may be

[ome-magical-ramblings]

Chakras and Psychic Centers in the Western Magical Traditions.

This post was inspired by @ditchdwellersupreme in a discord server that made me think deeply and sent me down a rabbit hole about how valid is the approach in this sense. https://hareesh.org/blog/2016/2/5/the-real-story-on-the-chakras Christopher Wallis, a Sanskrit scholar and practitioner goes in depth about them but the points he talks about in that specific blog is that:

There's not just one chakra system in the original tradition, there are many.

The chakra systems are prescriptive, not descriptive.

The psychological states associated with the chakras are completely modern and Western.

The seven-chakra system popular today derives not from an ancient scripture, but from a treatise written in 1577.

The main purpose of a chakra system is to function as a template for nyāsa — installation of mantras and deities.

The seed-mantras that you think go with the chakras actually go with the elements that happen to be installed in those chakras.

I am not here to argue on the validity of the practice of 7 chakras but on the practicalities of the practice itself, how it affect western practices and methodology and if they do have a place in western magical traditions?

hmm...if you imagine that the chakras are prescriptive and that they install mantras and deities into our bodies...then what about Phylacteries and talismans. What about physical body and letters in regard to that? Chaim Vital wrote: 'Know that in each and every organ of a person's body, there are letters engraved, informing us about that individual's actions. But the primary place is the forehead, as indicated earlier.' Some people might think of Jewish practices as not Western in nature and that's valid, but the Testament of Solomon also shed light on this when it associate a body part to a demon/angel combo. a fragment of Celsus from Origen says:

… the Egyptians say that the body of man has been put under the charge of thirty six daimons, or ethereal gods of some sort, who divide it between them, that being the number of parts into which it is divided (although some say far more). Each daimon is in charge of a different part. you can find a decan master list here , the sacred book of ascelpius talks about it from an astrological point of view: Aries is the head of the world, Taurus the neck, Gemini shoulders, Cancer breast, Lion the back, shoulder blades, heart and ribs, the Virgin the belly, Libra buttocks, Scorpio the pubis, Sagittarius the thighs, Capricorn the knees, Aquarius the legs and Pisces the feet. All of these could be seen as a way of diagnosing and medical magic, but also they have their own significance in this practice. I don't say to mish-mash the systems together but maybe there's more to it than what we think is not. Arab magicians write talisman for dream and tie it to their right upper arm, why the right upper arm and not the left? phylactery like the one used in the headless one is tied on the forehead...is there something more to it? I am not saying take all the chakras willy nilly, just that there's something to it. Heart, Stomach/lower belly, and top of the head.

Clearly I am taking the side of "yeah bro use dem chakranaynays" and honestly, my own practice didn't take off until I used a specific practice that dealt with dream incubation through visualizing the planetary symbols on the medulla oblongata following the Chaldean order with each symbol lasting a week. Does that mean I encourage reckless experimenting with them? of course not, they hurt and you would hurt yourself if you push yourself too hard with them. You use them as a part of a whole system, maybe you just use pillar and spheres to energize yourself or visualize the nadi/channel during nine bottle pranayama. The usual recommendation is to follow eastern procedure and it might feel weird for some people, it's honestly better to take a step back and see your own practice. The spirits would work with/without it, but your body is still gonna respond to spirits on some physiological level. Pragmatically speaking some spirits might even be more willing and might perform Nyasa for you. If you think about it, invocation and god-forms melt togethers and the product of these come closer to something resembling a similar practice. I am not saying to dilute/innovate on your first try! that's one thing I want to emphasize. I am just saying that incorporating some simple practices can allow more avenue for the spirit to contact you. Of course I am not saying..oh install demons on your head or do something reckless like that lol. To cap it off, Think of a deity you have a connection to, ask them which part of the body they relate to and ask them to inhabit that part, see what comes out of it. What if their image was on top of your head, in your heart, or in your belly, how would feel? Again this is all to be done with the deity approval or if they see the practice fit for you. "The wrong person even with the right knowledge will come to no good end. But the right person even with the wrong (or incomplete) knowledge will make it work." Sources: JSK's Testament of St Cyprian Jacobus G. Swart's Self Creation Blog. Lastly a meme that I thought was funny about this.

#occult #ritual #magic #magick #witchblr #spirit work #spirit #chakra #mantra #invocation #western magical tradition

[thelediz]

Sonic Underground episode 24: Mummy Dearest

I’m watching Sonic Underground in search of inspiration to finish a fic I’ve been writing forever. It’s a sad state of affairs. See the recap of the first three episodes here, if you're interested!

The plot (for want of a better word): One of Sonic’s ancestors was a prophet that predicted the rise and fall of Robotnik! Can the Sonic Underground find the scroll of prophecy and find out how to defeat Robotnik?

Is anyone getting the feeling someone in the writer’s room went to the middle east in this period of the series, or is it just me?

We begin with Sonia showing the boys a toy Cyrus gave her, called an ‘Intelliputer’ and after the whole zombie virus thing Cyrus cooked up last time I am immediately anxious.

It’s a surveillance laptop, basically, with very limited capabilities. Robotnik’s talking about some kind of expedition and finding Aleena, but walks out of frame before they can get actual details. HOWEVER

Also in the control room is an old book with a symbol on it that Sonia recognises as the Royal Hedgehog Crest. So apparently they need the book.

To do this, Sonic brings another new toy from Cyrus: very light SWATbot disguises. They use them to sneak into Robotnik’s headquarters and with toys like this I really have to wonder how the Resistance hasn’t just snuck in and shanked Robotnik in his sleep, I really do.

I know that’s not how kids shows work, don’t @ me.

They get in and would get the book easy does it, except Robotnik himself shows up halfway through the heist and even then, Sonic’s smooth talking (inside a robot disguise) would get them out except that Manic trips and breaks his disguise.

I question Cyrus’s engineering that it broke that easily.

Sonic just BARELY gets them out before the place goes into lockdown. This moment almost has tension to it!

Anyway, the book shows them the scroll of ‘Amun-Rappi’, which is… just… yep. Yep.

Okay, so let’s pause for a second to tell you why this plot point has always made me sigh a lot. Amun-Rappi is an ancestor to the royal family, and a prophet. To the point that he supposedly wrote out a step-by-step guide about how to overthrow Robotnik. They take him very seriously. AND YET no one saw Robotnik coming. No one has followed these steps. And this whole episode will ultimately have no plot relevance. In addition, Amun-Rappi is some weird… like, he looks like a fictionalised pharaoh, but in universe he is treated more like Cassandra of Greek myth. Which is, you know, whatever. The whole Mobius thing is a weird mish-mash of Roman globalisation nonsense so we deal. It’s just… I give SO MANY SIDE-EYES to the royal family for letting Robotnik into the kingdom with this in their history. This episode has stuck with me to the point that it’s kind of how I built up the entire Hedgehog royal family lineage from this one guy as a priest to the not!Egyptian King, whose descendents immigrated to the central kingdom before the Mobian wars that were mentioned in a past episode, but that IS SO MUCH HEADCANON NONSENSE and if I don’t do it, it just makes things messy.

THIS SERIES IS A MESS.

Anyway.

…Sonic is using Manic’s voice this time. Cool. Jaleel, I really think we need to re-record – no, no, you’re right, timing, move on.

The van (including the Sonic Underground) gets eaten by a Dune Worm. Robotnik and Sleet celebrate, while Dingo mourns Sonia. The audience is less concerned, because anyone who saw Pinocchio knows how this goes.

Sonia, who is the one carrying the braincell this episode, decides the best way out of this situation is to force the sandworm’s mouth open a bit (what) to let sand in (WHAT) until it surfaces (…kay) and spits the sand and them out (…uh huh). I mean, there’s logic to it. Not sure it’s my kind of logic, but we roll.

It lets them out in front of the pyramid and… as someone who replayed Assassin’s Creed Odyssey last year, I gotta say… this black, vaguely metallic pyramid… Issu artefact much?

Anyway. They get in through the secret entrance marked by the Royal H (the Hedgehog Crest. Yes, they call it the Royal H), only to immediately get frozen by magic by a… vaguely Jafar looking guy, who is there to protect Amun-Rappi's tomb.

But he recognises the royal hedgehog medallions, so apparently the necklaces have been things in the royal (which Amun-Rappi is not otherwise implied to be, yet) family for centuries.

Sleet and Dingo have been muddling through the other entrances, but catch up just as the guardian is showing the triplets to the main chamber. Remarkably, Sleet actually catches them with some sticky… stuff. But it’s for nothing, because Sonic ultimately breaks free with a superspin and takes the sticky gun thingy off them. The only thing this actually does is let the triplets know a SWATbot patrol is coming after them, so they have to take a shortcut to the burial chamber through two ‘chambers of death’. As you do.

So called, I guess, because there’s no way to disarm the traps without someone risking certain death first, I guess. But that’s what Sonic’s whole deal is, so he overcomes fire and water with only a few jokes and singeing and all is well.

Amun-Rappi was buried in splendour and with guardian souls but with very few treasures, gotta say. But said guardian souls take one look at Sonic, who is the spitting image of his ancestor, and back off. I dunno, I guess they needed to fill twenty additional seconds of the episode or something.

Amun-Rappi appears as a ghost, and demands a song in payment for the scroll, because of course he does.

THE SONG: We are Sonic Underground. Some… weird 90s rap thing that is directly referencing the plot for once and we just… yep. It is what it is.

Amun-Rappi curses Robotnik’s forces with his ‘Curse of Immobility’ while the triplets get away with his scroll of prophecy. But it’s all for nothing, because as soon as they remove it from the glass casing, it falls apart, as parchment is wont to do.

So that was an episode. I make way too much of it for world building purposes. I really shouldn’t, but egh.

Come back tomorrow if you’re interested?

#sonic underground #lediz fics #sonic the hedgehog #manic hedgehog #sonia hedgehog #this series is such a mess #like even by trashfire standards #this worldbuilding is messy nonsense #I am such a problem

[unfriendlyamazon]

losers (enemies | lovers)

@joukaiweek​ continues. for how much i love when characters are terrible to each other, i don’t write enough of it for kaijou, so here’s something a little spicy for you

Title: Losers Rating: E Characters: Joey Wheeler, Seto Kaiba Word Count: 1546 Warnings: Frottage, Hatefucking, Fist Fights Summary: "Fuck you," Wheeler breathes out, more like a sigh than an actual swear. Seto squeezes his grip. His brain is a buzz of activity. He wants to do something crazy. "Fighting on tournament grounds is an instant disqualification," he says. Wheeler leans down over him. "Are we fighting?" Seto doesn't blink, doesn't flinch. "I suppose that's up to you."

...

If Seto can add one thing to the list of what he hates about Joey Wheeler, it would be his dedication.

By all rights, he should have fizzled after high school. No style, no deck, just a mish mash of trophy cards from half-baked duelists like him. Instead, Seto sees him at every tournament. No matter the place, the time, the travel costs, Joey makes his way into the stadium and lays down cards that should never work. He's a paper tiger, all brash and bravado, but his best cards could destroy him on their own. And every time, he climbs the ranks, higher and higher. Sponsorships are offered to him. Now he's in the press box after tournaments getting pictures taken with that wide, idiot grin. Seto despises the idiot's blind luck.

Seto is behind the cameras today. Perhaps what really makes him sour is he doesn't play in tournaments as much anymore. There was a time when he dropped everything to waltz in, summon his Blue Eyes, and walk out with the arena a crater behind him. Now, his obligations are elsewhere. It turns out companies with a CEO that disappears on a whim struggle, and his summons have become a parlor trick. The last KC tournament involved an AI computer attuned to his deck. Seto hadn't even been in the country.

Joey Wheeler had beaten it in five moves. As soon as Seto received the results, he'd made sure to book his next flight.

He watches as Wheeler holds up his trophy. It catches the light with his blond hair, still after all these years. It must be burned downed to the roots, Seto thinks cruelly. A reporter asks him some questions that he answers with his usual worthless ramble. Seto checks his phone. Emails pile up, and he ignores them all.

Eventually the press move on. The runner up is a newcomer, and Joey elbows her for coming so close to beating him. They pose, and then he steps out of the spotlight. Seto watches him as soon as the cameras are elsewhere. All the confidence comes down with that breath. He runs a hand through his hair and pulls down his collar. He looks up, and his eyes meet Seto's. Seto should be embarrassed for being caught looking at him, but he doesn't blink or look away. It's a brief staring concert, and it satisfies him that Wheeler gives up first. He storms out of the room.

Seto doesn't know why he follows. His feet move of their own accord. All he knows is he's not satisfied enough.

Wheeler marches down the corridor towards the elevators. Staff run past, focused on the circus in the other room, and around the corner they are suddenly alone. Wheeler walks straight past the elevator doors towards one of the conference rooms. Seto's pace quickens. He's nearly on Wheeler when he turns suddenly, grabbing Seto by the collar, and dragging him into the room. He's thrown into a chair. Wheeler tosses the trophy onto the table and stands over him, arms crossed, brows set.

"What the fuck is your problem," he says.

They're starting here. Good. Seto had no intention of playing nice.

"You are," he says simply.

Wheeler puffs out a breath that loosens a strand of hair from his face. "I shoulda known when you showed up. I'm doing my fucking job out there and you're staring daggers the whole time."

Seto will not be talked down to like a child. He stands from the chair, using every inch of his impressive height to lord over Wheeler.

"I came to see what excuse you call strategy these days," he growls. "It's a travesty you've made it this far. All you have is a trophy for dumb luck."

His fists ball, dropping to his side. "I work fucking hard for that deck. Not that you'd know it. You buy every fucking card you can get your hands on. You don't get to tell me my strategy is broke when yours is the same one since high school."

"You have no idea–"

"You think I don't?" Wheeler presses in, pushing Seto back against the table. "I've known you for years, and your strategy is a stale potato chip. I beat it like that."

He snaps his fingers, and something snaps in Seto. All he sees is blinding white.

"It's pathetic that they give you any attention at all," he says. "You're the same as always. A poor, pathetic dog."

Wheeler's fist moves, and Seto tastes blood before the hit registers. The bruise burns against his cheek. He'll need extra makeup for tomorrow.

His hands move faster than his brain does. In a moment he's gripping onto Wheeler's jacket, and the two are grappling, hitting, a knee comes up. This is not their schoolyard snipe fest. Wheeler is fed up with him, and he chooses violence. What he doesn't realize is Seto is already there.

Blood fills his mouth, and Wheeler is quick with his hands. Seto has training and height on his side, and he manages to knock him off balance. The two fall to the floor. Wheeler uses the momentary shock to roll Seto onto his back, knees locked to keep him from moving, and he drags Seto up by the collar. It's juvenile, but Seto bites into his jugular. He’s dropped onto the floor with a grunt. Wheeler's arm pulls back, but the hit doesn't land. They stop and stare at each other. Panting hard, Wheeler on top of him, the sensation has started an involuntary reflex. Seto is hard between his legs. Wheeler is perfectly situated to feel it. His pink lips part as he breathes heavily. Blood spackles beneath the surface of his skin where Seto bit him. His hand is still curled at Seto's collar. Seto wraps a hand around his wrist. The pulse is pounding against his palm.

"Fuck you," Wheeler breathes out, more like a sigh than an actual swear.

Seto squeezes his grip. His brain is a buzz of activity. He wants to do something crazy.

"Fighting on tournament grounds is an instant disqualification," he says.

Wheeler leans down over him. "Are we fighting?"

Seto doesn't blink, doesn't flinch. "I suppose that's up to you."

Hes yanked up yet again, and this time Joey's lips crash down on his. It's an ugly thing, all teeth, and they clatter against each other. Seto doesn't care. This is the itch he's been trying to scratch. Seeing all the lights on Wheeler, watching him act like he made something of himself. And here he is, down in the dirt like always, a creature of base instinct. Seto could say the same for himself.

Wheeler's hips start to move. The feeling against his erection is all friction. Wheeler has always been friction. From his brash attitude to the rough jean he wears and the bleach burned ends of his golden hair. It's like rubbing sandpaper. Seto wants him to take his skin off. Leave him bloodied and bristled and raw. Their angry mouthing leaves his lips red, and his humping speeds up. It's filthier somehow that they're fully clothed. Like they need it now, like they're teenagers again who are too stupid to know more. Wheeler's mouth leaves his, and he returns Seto's bite with fervor. Seto groans loudly, and that seems to spur him on. He's sucking and biting, pulling as much skin between his teeth as he can, and Seto is trapped beneath his weight. He's being fucked right now. It's disgusting. It's animal. He wants more.

Seto wraps his hands in Joey's disgusting hair and pulls as hard as he can. The sound it earns is pure hell. It comes from deep within Wheeler's chest. His own hard on isn’t felt between his legs, but he's enjoying the action as much as Seto is. They fuck against each other, still grabbing and biting and gasping and groaning. Wheeler's eyes squeeze shut, and Seto hugs closer to him. They're coming together. Wrapped in each other's arms. Seto can feel Wheeler's heartbeat against his. There's no fighting it. He comes in his pants and collapses. He's seeing white again in a much different way.

They breathe for a while, until Wheeler unwraps himself from Seto. He leaves him on the ground as he adjusts his shirt and pulls the collar up on the jacket. Not that it hides the bite. At least the pictures were taken earlier. He picks up his trophy, looks it over like he's never seen it before. Seto stays collapsed on the ground. Why bother moving yet?

"There's something fucking wrong with us," Wheeler says, staring into the reflective surface of the trophy.

"Speak for yourself," Seto says.

His lip curls. It's almost a smile. "You coming to the next tournament?"

Seto considers it. His work is piling up as they speak. The ceiling of the conference room stares down at him expectantly. 

"We'll see," he says. 

Wheeler kicks him with his shoe. It's barely a love tap. "I hate your ass."

"You haven't even seen it yet," Seto says.

He smirks. "Maybe next time."

He leaves the conference room. Seto stays. He feels disgusting and filthy and used. Maybe next time, he'll return the favor. 

#joukai #kaijou #joey wheeler #jounouchi katsuya #seto kaiba

[jeanmoreaux]

Hi!!! Sorry for this question, I haven’t read SoC in a while™️ and I wanted to ask what makes Kaz and Wylan kind of similar in your POV? Cz I remember him looking up to Kaz in some sort of way but not that they were specifically alike 😂 pls help this aging fan, I’m just curious!

oh, i'm happy to share some of my thought on what i mentioned in this post about regarding wylan as somewhat of an alter to kaz! i'd love to give you some exact quotes and page numbers, but i sadly don't have the time to go back to the text and search for all the details. consequently, my claims will be rather broad and you might have to make up your own mind, on a re-read, if you (dis-)agree with my thoughts on the matter.

first, it's important to mention that, for me, wylan embodies many of the qualities of who we assume kaz rietveld was. he's honest, earnest, a little sheltered, has a firm moral compass and generally believes in kindness/goodness. he's then—quite violently—thrust into this new life, left all alone with no one to lean on. interestingly, both their "rebirths" are closely related to water (there is sure something to be said about the symbolism of water as something cleansing and its important role in baptisms.... also the implications of almost drowning but ultimately making it to shore. it's like a shared metaphor.)

They both then cleverly adopt personas to survive ketterdam's streets and distance themselves from their pasts. and here is were a lot of differences in their circumstance and environment come in. kaz's only option is to "toughen up" and turn into "the bastard of the barrel" & dirtyhands. wylan, on the other hand, continually makes himself out to be this naive ingénue in the criminal world (even way past beyond the point that's true) to fly under the radar. the thing is, since wylan falls in with the crows and has people like kaz around to do the "morally dirty" work, he gets to hold on to many of his qualities that kaz had to lay down to survive. kaz didn't have someone to do that for him.

((wylan occasionally makes some offhand remarks that hint a potential for violence, or at least an awareness of necessary violence, but he's never actually forced to act violently to save or protect others. there's not really a reason for him to suppress his empathy completely. it's clear, though, that if push came to shove he could stomach what the situation throws at him and deal with it. he's not a delicate flower, but compared to kaz he's lucky enough that he doesn't have to repress his natural tendency for kindness.))

Both characters are also intelligent and curious (they need so understand how things work) and they use that as a way to work around their individual weaknesses (kaz's issues with mobility & wylans dyslexia). for both of them, their intelligence is probably their greatest asset. they also both like a puzzle (mainly because they enjoy the process of solving it). generally i'd say their minds work much alike, which we see especially during the planning and execution of the plan to steal jan van eck's seal or when wylan deciphers kaz's cryptic infos that lead him to his mom—it's just that wylan usually doesn't use his faculties for crime. this also this is also somewhat hinted at by inej (and jesper) in ck when they're hatching out some plan and she goes like "wait, wylan, is that a scheming face?!" which is very much an expression for a look that has only ever been brought up in connection with kaz before that point. an interesting detail, that doesn't have to mean anything but is worth mentioning, is the fact that kaz often trusts wylan with more details than the other crows. whether that be to receive some input or just have a second person look for holes in his plan or out of necessity or some other reason is not always clear, but it definitely means that kaz values wylan's talents and mental faculties.

oh, and ofc wylan is probably just as cunning as kaz when he wants to be. they both can read people motives and intentions pretty well while being skilled in concealing their own (think: kaz in almost every situation ever, also think: wylan's kuwei stunt in soc or his spiel towards the end of ck). wylan's various tricks he uses to divert attention form his dyslexia fall in this cunning behaviour as well, i'd say. like, he knows exactly how to hide that he can't read but at the same time get people to help him without them even noticing (pretending he's too new to an area to understand written direction or claiming he can't read someone's handwriting, not knowing sufficient fjerdan to complete the writing on the map, etc.). if i remember correctly not even kaz figures it out, wylan has to tell him about it.

#honorable mention: remember the time wylan bet kaz that his dad would sacrifice him for profit without second thought #and kaz lost the wager #what an iconic interaction between them that's so THEM #oh and just ignore any typos and mistakes—i am tired and my brain is mush atm #i hope it's coherent enough to give you a rough idea of where i am coming from with this lmao #have a nice day <3 #anon #answer #mish talks books #mish talks soc

[jedinerd27]

“I hear the walls repeating, The falling of our feet, and It sounds like drumming” Morpheus x GN! Reader and Platonic!Calliope X GN!Reader

Chapter 1: Haberlea

Word Count: 1488

Summary: You meet a woman while waiting for Morpheus at the Park. As you sing a song from a video game you enjoy and explain the story, she seems saddened. Morpheus is angered by the flowers you bring him. Johanna comes by talking of a cult using a lyre of myth. You are reminded of your childhood and the loss of your father. Opening up about it to your new friend, and then to your lover, you find out they both lost a son. You have not connected the dots between them. However, by opening up, both Calliope and Morpheus grieve their son in a healthier way.

A/n: on my AO3

Pre establish Relationship, parental loss, child loss, Angst and comfort, pure angst, Morpheus learns to deal with feelings! References to Hades the game, and Hadestown(The title of the series is a lyric from the musical), and wine consumption. Reader Singing (such a cliche)

NEIL GAIMAN FOR THE LOVE OF GOD:DO NOT READ!

The park you frequented was beautiful Sunny with white fluffy clouds. The temperature was not too hot, nor cold. Fall was coming with the arrival of crisp leaves at your feet. Achilles was running around the empty field in front of you, chasing squirrels and birds to his heart’s content and pleasure.

You strummed the old acoustic guitar you had for many years.

“Farwell

To all earthy remains

No burns

No further debts to be paid

Atlas

Can rest his weary bones

The weight of the world

all fall away

in time”

Your voice was happy, relieved. The song you sang had two different tones, you choose the happier one. The one relieved that all their work was finished. That they could finally rest.

Then you heard clapping, looking up you saw a woman standing a few feet away. Dressed in blue jeans and a flowy white blouse. You had to blink a couple of times because you swear she’s wearing a golden laurel crown. You realize she’s wearing clips of the leaves to hold back her long brown hair

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but your song.” She starts, taking a few steps over to you, “It’s so beautiful.”

“Oh thank you, but it’s not… mine?” You start.

“Not yours" She raises an eyebrow at it.

“It’s from a video game, Hades” You don’t see how white her face gets as you reach for your phone, trying to pull off pictures of the game. “It’s about the son of Hades, Zagreus, trying to reach the mortal realm, to reunite with his mother Persephone. Along the way, he runs into different people from myths. This song was written for it. It’s signed by Eurydice and Orpheus. It’s fascinating. Both of them sign the song differently. Orpheus longs for the life both of them could have, but Eurydice sings it full of relief, that all the struggles of life are finally over. I- oh I’m sorry I’m rambling” You apologize, smiling awkwardly.

The woman in front of you seems to ground herself at the word jumble you had thrown at her. A soft smile upon her face.

“That is beautiful. A retelling of Greek mythology?”

“A mish-mash of a paragraph about a character we know little to nothing about really. I just have a love for those stories.” You sigh deeply remembering your childhood. Then you extend your hand as she’s standing at the edge of your picket blanket. “I’m ___”

“You can call me Cali.”

“Like California?” She nods a bit,

“Not quite, but close.”

“Got it.

“You enjoy the stories of old?”

“Oh ever since I was a child, my parents would read them to me instead of normal fairy tales. I had begged them to.

“Why?”

“I found a book and I wanted to know Why I could not see the and I quote- face of the snake lady. “ A chuckle comes out as you remember your mother’s confused face as you held the book out for her to take.

“What’s your favorite story?”

“Oh, Orpheus and Eurydice.” You state

“That- but that’s a tragic tale.” Her face looks so heartbroken, and you nod solemnly.

“It’s not partially the story being my favorite. It’s how my parents went about telling me. My mom would first read me the story, and my dad would listen. He had his phone out to record it. You see my dad had dyslexia, so reading was hard for him, even as an adult. So, he would listen to my mother tell the story, and then he would memorize it. Like how the epics were once told. Then, he found out that the epics sometimes had music played in the background. So he got this” You strum the strings of your guitar. A pleasant sound erupts. “I would be tucked in my bed, softest blankets, soft as coulds. He would strum tunes he felt that went with the scene he would speak aloud. When he didn’t have the guitar, he would be so animated. Arms flying everywhere, He always did stupid voices and- and then he died a few years later of cancer.” Your voice drops.

“I’m so sorry, “ Cali has now sat down on the edge of the blanket only a few feet away from you.”He sounds like a good father.”

“The best” You sign, “I’m sorry if I interrupted your walk. “

“Oh no you didn’t, Your melody reminded me of my son and me, I had to stop and listen.” She notices the flowers you had sitting beside you, the flowers you had brought for Morpheus. “Those flowers.”

It’s a sad tone, mournful you think to yourself.

“Oh yeah, Orpheus flowers” You muttered, picking up the flowers. The inside of the flower was white, but the petal’s outer shell was purple, and yellow pistils in the center. They had reminded you of the night sky, of your lover’s eyes, how they could span entire galaxies. “I am nothing but on brand. They're actually for my boyfriend"

Cali just stares at them, so you take one out of the about boutique and hold it over to him.

“Would you like one?” You ask politely. She had a calming presence, and you don’t know why, but you feel like she was safe, you can trust her.

“I know I can’t possibly take one. You brought them for your lover.” But, you extend it closer to her until she plucks it from your hands.

“Morpheus won’t mind if one is missing.” You smile.

“Morpheus?” An abrupt gasp.

“Yep, that’s his name.” You turn your head, hearing the putter patter of paws, as Achilles is now chasing after a raven.

 Matthew is here so that means... there he is.

There was your boyfriend, just making it over a hill of the park. Dressed from bottom to top in pitch black clothing. A vibrant red inside a glass bottle inside a grocery bag. Wine for the date. (There was something so human about an anthropomorphic personification of a concept doing domestic human shit.)

"I can introduce you if you would like-huh?"

Cali was gone when you turned back, along with the flower you had given her. Nothing remained as a breeze washed over the valley.

When Morpheus made it to your blanket, he leaned down and kissed your cheek.

“Hello, my love” he sits down next to you, smiling softly. Those were becoming more and more frequent.

“Hello to you, Morpheus. “ You smile at him. “I have a gift for you.”

“As do I, I brought wine.” He holds the bottle up proudly. It was a bottle of rosé, the label reads with hints of strawberries. “My sister recommended it.”

“Any wine Death likes, it’s good in my book. Oh, here. For you love” You hold out the bouquet and watch as his face contours from the soft smile to one almost rageful.

“Where did you get those?” His voice is  cold and unnerving. You feel your body freeze like a statue. “Where?”

"I bought them at a flower stand, they remind me of you. Are you okay? What wro-“

“Do you know the significance of those flowers?” He’s not looking at you, only the flowers, even when you pull them closer to your chest.

"Umm, they’re Orpheus flowers. My mom used to grow some.””Your voice is wavering with unnerve. “They’re named after Orpheus, and it was one of my favorite stories from childhood. Love, are you-‘”

"I- throw them away. I don not wish to look upon them a second longer" His voice is bitter and, did it his voice just crack?

“Morpheus-“ you plead

“No, darling please just throw them away” He holds eye contact with you. Finally. “It is something painful to me.”

He tilts your chin up with his hand, soft touches, but a firm and powerful grip.

You see in his eyes, they're watering, there is pain. He's almost crying.

"Okay” You sigh out and end up throwing them away in a nearby garbage can.

When you return, he's pouring out the wine into some glasses and has opened up the picnic basket.

Your golden retriever sits in his lap eating bits of a turkey sandwich that Morpheus feeds him. Content with the day. Matthew is actually pecking the scraps that fall unto the blanket.

"Do you want to talk about-"

"No my love. Not now. " He interprets, as he wipes his eyes.  "Let us just enjoy the day and the future that comes"

"Okay" As you sit down, you lean your head into his side-as he leans to you and leaves a soft kiss to your forehead-and bring a cup of wine up to your lips.

While it was a good wine, however there's a bitter aftertaste, as if the strawberry had turned rotten.

Morpheus doesn't talk much, he just holds you and Achilles close to him that day. As if he's afraid to loose either of you.

#Morpheus #Lord Morpheus #morpheus x reader #dream of the endless #Dream of the endless x reader #Dream x Reader #calliope the sandman #Calliope #hades the game #calliope x morpheus #Orpheus #Hadestown #Morpheus x gn reader #The sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #the sandman comics #the sandman #the sandman (2022)

[ramcharantitties]

And tell me, why has no one talked about ram from reader's pov?

17 July, 1920

The first time I actually met him was with my friend Jenny and her date akhtar. He stood there, with button down tucked in trouser, suspenders attached by the waist. A chain reached around his hip in his pocket, a silver chain peaking from his neck. His hair looked soft and his mustache handlebar. His eyelashes long, so long. He introduced himself as Ramaraju- or just Raju. I opted for Rama. Suits him better. We talked a few times and his voice, so smooth yet heavy, like velvet swept me off my feet. The sun looked dim and golden in his eyes, his veins resembled river flows. The charm in his presence felt like moonlight, such glow yet so calm. His skin had more contrast than the earth and it felt that maybe laying with him would feel like the land hugged me. Ram's lose shirt was an injustice, one can easily figure out how sturdy his body would be. How magnificent his body would be. But his tight trousers did more than justice to his- well, I'll say that someday else.

Ram was one hell of a translator for akhtar and Jenny. He molded each other's words in such a way that they fit perfectly, as if pieces of a puzzle. The way his words flow so easily, like chocolate dripping down, so sweet and mouth filling. The way he explains his mind as if reading a book, so emotive but fluent. Although it felt like that despite being present here, he was somewhere else. He was, searching something so close to him. At one point Akhtar turned around and called me bhabhi, and there was an immediate shock and blush on ram's pretty face. My laughter caught him off guard and he patted Akhtar's back a little too hard. Ram knows I'm not as innocent as Jenny.

When we parted, he shook my hand and caught the ring in my third finger and there was a cast of dark clouds on his face. I giggled at his reaction, taking it off and sliding it on a different finger. "It's my mother's" I said, and the sun shone again.

I hope to meet him again.

Tags: @budugu @rambheemisgoated @thewinchestergirl1208 @shreyalokesh @bromance-minus-the-b @juhiiiiii @chaanv @chaotic-moonlight @aasthuu @mish-ka @kashti15 @saanjh-sakhi @ronaldofandom @unmadana @nyotamalfoy @obsessedtoafault @iamhereforthefanfics @sleeepishlyy @maraudersbitchesassemble @phoenix666stuff @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @dumdaradumdaradum

#rrr #ram charan #rambheem #ghungru #rrr movie #rrr tarak charan #ram x reader #ram x wife!reader #fanfic #desi tag #diary entry #dear diary #imagine #Jenny rrr #bheemjenny

[pangolinheart]

I don't know what book you're talking about with a magical rock and a talking ferret but I am HERE for it whatever it is!

Okay it was REALLY bothering me so I googled it! It was called Avalon: Web of Magic. It looks like it's gotten updated cover art since I was in elementary school, but I remember being in 2nd grade and going to a book fair and seeing this on one of the tables and being enamoured with it:

I guess it also got a graphic novel spinoff at some point? And as recently as 2020 there were plans to make it into an animated series? I'm amazed by that fact. It was definitely a product of it's time (2001) and there was a whole mish-mash of magical tropes, but it was the first fantasy book series I had ever read (also I think the first book with human main characters...) and 7-8 year old me loved it.

The character I was talking about was named Emily (she's the redhead in this picture) and she was kind of the "healer" of the group? Every character had different kind of magical links with different individual animals, and I guess according to the Wiki she didn't ~technically~ have a bonded animal like the other two, but she had a bond with a unicorn and the aforementioned ferret, Ozzie (Ozymandias) who was actually a warlock that had been transformed into a ferret. I think her magical stone started as an aventurine. Anyway I don't know why but she popped into my mind when I was looking at that reblog meme so it must have been some sort of repressed memory lol.

I remember really liking another of the three, Adrian, who was goth and had a cats eye stone and most of her animal familiars ended up being wolves. I remember being very disappointed for some reason when she got a fantasy boyfriend.

I'm shocked I can still remember all of the main characters' names.

Anyway this is one of those things that I feel probably explains a lot about me as a person.

As a bonus, here's are some 's one of the updated cover art (looking at the old ones.. the update was probably a good choice lol)

#ramblings #asks and answers #the early oughts were a wild time #i think there was the obligatory 2000s youth media book where they were all in a rock band together #there's just... there's just a lot going on here lol #anyway enjoy your extremely cursed new knowledge

[coldblizzardqueen]

So I started to write a little Berena fix it set after Bernie leaves the wedding reception. It's only a beginning but I'd really appreciate any constructive opinions, if anyone is willing to read!

It's not been properly edited as this isn't (probably) a final version.

A Definition of Eternity.

Chapter 1

“Infinite or Unending Time” said a soft, immediately recognizable voice.

“What the…?” Started Serena. Catching hold of the living room door handle to steady herself as she nearly jumped out of her skin.

While trying to regain some composure, which was difficult in her very inebriated state, she watched as Bernie casually unfurled herself from her favourite armchair by the window. There was an open bottle of whiskey and a nearly empty glass on the side table next to the chair where Bernie placed her Kindle as she stood up. Pulling her shoulders back before looking directly at Serena.

“You asked me to wait…I promised eternity…Unending time.” Bernie explained evenly.

She’d originally come back to the house to collect her things. Intending to be holed up in a hotel long before her (now) former partner came home. But as she’d been throwing her things haphazardly into her suitcase. Military precision be damned. She had concluded that once again, she’d allowed Serena to throw a grenade at their relationship, without putting up even the smallest fight. Without making herself and her feelings heard. She’d walked away with a sloppy salute and a pained smile.

So, she’d stopped her packing, changed into more comfortable clothes and ensconced herself in the armchair with an excellent single malt and a good book. Waiting for Serena to return.

“Why are you…? Serena’s eyes drew together in adorable confusion. The door she gripped by the handle swaying gently backwards and forwards.

Bernie smiled softly. She itched to steady Serena and help her to bed. Hold her close.

“Sitting here reading at three in the morning?” she questioned.

Serena sighed. Not a put-upon sigh. An unguarded sigh. The one that contained something like awe or…dare Bernie hope… happiness “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Bernie tried to maintain eye contact, but it was almost impossible to keep track of Serena’s glassy, unfocused gaze. She spoke quietly but firmly, “I need to have a real conversation with you Serena. I don’t want to walk away from us without at least honestly telling you how I feel.”

She shuffled her feet, briefly looking down at them. She smiled. She'd forgotten she was wearing Serena’s slippers. Looking back up she explained “I stayed tonight because I wasn’t sure I’d be brave enough to come back tomorrow.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And walking away before we’ve sat down and talked properly, just felt wrong to me.

Serena moved away from the swaying door. She was starting to look a little green. Dropping herself onto the overstuffed sofa, she slurred sadly, “We have talked Bernie. We agreed. We’re just not the right sort of manimaul…mani…” She flapped her arms uselessly, “Oh, you know what we said.”

Bernie moved towards her partner (ex? Not if she could help it) “Go to bed love. I’ll bring you up a glass of water and some paracetamol.” She offered her hand and pulled Serena up from the sofa.

Her balance being impeded meant that Serena fell into Bernie’s arms. She briefly nuzzled her neck before she realised that she couldn’t do that anymore and tried to straighten herself up.

“I think I mish be sofa on the safer!” Serena pronounced in a breathy huff. She smiled sloppily, looking up at Bernie, “I do…I do’slove you.”

Ignoring the soused declaration, Bernie slid her own arm around Serena’s waist, and slung Serena’s arm around her neck. “Come on, I’ll help you upstairs.” She really didn’t fancy a trip to the hospital tonight and Serena was likely to do herself an injury if left to her own devices.

The trip up the stairs was made more difficult by the fact that Serena seemed to be nodding off, even as she walked, to the point Bernie was taking most of her weight. “Good job I’m a Big Macho Army Medic.” She murmured to herself as she manoeuvred her precious cargo into the bedroom.

She whipped back the duvet on the side of the bed closest to her and gently deposited Serena onto the mattress. She pulled her shoes off and undid the top button on her trousers, so she would be a little more comfortable and covered her with the duvet. Unable to resist, she placed a kiss on Serena’s forehead. “I love you too.” She whispered as she turned out the light and left the room.

After checking everywhere was locked up downstairs, and placing the promised water and paracetamol by Serena’s bedside, Bernie took herself into Jason’s old room and got ready for bed.

Tomorrow, she was going to try and metaphorically shake some sense into Serena. Slippers, bins and swings…she thought. How can they possibly be reasons to throw away what they had. She had a lot to say about their break-up conversation and she was ready to fight.

To be continued? Should I? Thoughts welcome.

#berena #bernie wolfe #fanfiction #serena campbell #first attempt at fanfiction #new berena story #fix it fic #the definition of eternity #ao3 #holby city