#but take your momento to reflect about it and see by yourself what is the good thing to do

[iniarya-lux]

Um pouco de Sanji em cuidados 💌

[A little Sanji in care 💌]

Vinsmoke Sanji com uma s/n que negligência o sono e as refeições por causa dos estudos - Headcanons

Boa leitura 🍃

[Vinsmoke Sanji with an y/n who neglects sleep and meals because of his studies - Headcanons]

Good reading 🍃

O Sanji havia se atentado ao seu comportamento, ele via as noites mal dormidas, ele reparou na oscilação em seu sono, ele reparou que você ultimamente não participava das refeições com o bando, porque estava ocupada demais, sempre trancafiada em seu quarto absolvida pelos estudos.

[Sanji had noticed his behavior, he saw the sleepless nights, he noticed the fluctuation in his sleep, he noticed that you haven't been eating meals with the pack lately, because you were too busy, always locked up in your room, absolved from your studies.]

Em um primeiro momento, Sanji acendeu o seu cigarro e refletiu sobre você no convés do navio. Ele respeitava você, respeitava os seus estudos, ele sabia o quanto isso era importante para você, o quanto você se dedicava a isso, e o quanto era necessário para o seu futuro, porém ele não estava indiferente à sua displicência com a sua saúde. Isso o preocupava.

[At first, Sanji lit his cigarette and reflected on you on the ship's deck. He respected you, he respected your studies, he knew how important this was to you, how devoted you were to it, and how much it was necessary for your future, but he was not indifferent to your indifference to his health. It worried him.]

Geralmente, quando ele percebeu que você não estava tão presente nas refeições com o bando, ele preparou as suas refeições favoritas e começou a levar até o seu quarto.

[Usually, when he noticed that you weren't as present at meals with the pack, he prepared your favorite meals and started taking them to your room.]

O Sanji batia na porta do seu quarto, você não respondia focada demais em seus livros, tentando entender a todo custo determinados assuntos complicados. O Sanji chamava por você, a sua cabeça atordoada capturava a sua voz, mas você o mandava ir embora sem nem ao menos saber do que se tratava. Essa atitude o machucava por dentro, não por você ignora-lo, mas, pelo fato que você estava se tornando negligente consigo mesma, e era indiferente a situação.

[Sanji knocked on your bedroom door, you didn't answer too focused on your books, trying to understand at all costs certain complicated subjects. Sanji called out to you, his dizzy head captured your voice, but you told him to leave without even knowing what it was about. This attitude hurt you inside, not because you ignored him, but because you were becoming neglectful of yourself, and indifferent to the situation.]

Quando você abria a porta, o Sanji estava lá de pé, ele pôde visualizar a sua fisionomia cansada, as suas olheiras profundamente escurecidas, mas, esboçando o melhor sorriso para você, ele a elogiou da forma mais cavalheira e extravagante possível lhe entregando seu prato de comida favorito; você o agradeceu um pouco automaticamente dizendo estar ocupada, ele sabe disso, porém ele só quer saber como você está, ele quer que você saiba que ele está aqui por você.

[When you opened the door, Sanji was standing there, he could see your tired face, your dark circles under your eyes, but, flashing you the best smile, he complimented you in the most chivalrous and extravagant way possible by handing you his favorite plate of food; you thanked him a little automatically saying you were busy he knows that but he just wants to know how you are he wants you to know he is here for you.]

Nem sempre você comia o que o Sanji trazia, você se sentia um pouco angustiada por isso, mas não conseguia parar porque isso havia se tornado uma compulsão obssessiva, você precisava estudar e sempre se sentia atrasada em relação aos outros, então, não havia tempo para comer.

[You didn't always eat what Sanji brought you, you felt a little distressed about it, but you couldn't stop because it had become an obsessive compulsion, you had to study and you always felt behind others, so there was no time to eat.]

Sanji prestou atenção a esse padrão, quando você não aparecia na cozinha trazendo os pratos, ele vai buscá-los, o prato continua cheio, você não comeu nada. Na primeira vez que isso aconteceu, ele não gostou nem um pouco, mas para alivia-lo você disse que comeria, ele compreensivamente entendeu, você não comeu. Na segunda vez, ele não pôde deixar passar, ele sabe como é sentir fome e seu corpo estava com fome, você só não estava sentindo isso pela adrenalina ao qual estava envolvida enquanto estudava. O Sanji não gritou com você, mas com um olhar sério ele delicadamente retirou suas mãos do livro e o fechou. "S/N-san, pare, você precisa comer". Você o olhou zonza, sentiu que se levantasse iria desmaiar, sua pressão estava baixa, você nem sabia qual foi a sua última refeição, e você havia mentindo para o seu namorado ao dizer que comeu as outras, você não comeu, o Luffy comeu, mas você não queria o dizer isso.

[Sanji paid attention to this pattern, when you didn't show up in the kitchen bringing the dishes, he'll go get them, the plate is still full, you haven't eaten anything. The first time this happened, he didn't like it at all, but to relieve him you said you would eat, he understandingly understood, you didn't. The second time he couldn't let it go, he knows what it's like to be hungry and his body was hungry, you just weren't feeling it for the adrenaline you were involved in while studying. Sanji didn't yell at you, but with a serious look he gently withdrew his hands from the book and closed it. "Y/N-san, stop, you need to eat." You looked at him dizzy, you felt that if you stood up you would pass out, your blood pressure was low, you didn't even know what your last meal was, and you had lied to your boyfriend saying you ate the others, you didn't eat it, Luffy ate it, but you didn't want to tell him that.]

O Sanji sentou na sua cama, o estômago revirando ao te ver assim, o coração retorcido no peito, ele acendeu um cigarro e continuou te observando. Você sabia, ele não iria sair dali até que você comesse, não um pouco, mas, tudo, até porque não adiantava você estudar tanto, e não cuidar do próprio corpo.

[Sanji sat on your bed, his stomach turning to see you like that, his heart twisted in his chest, he lit a cigarette and continued watching you. You knew, he wouldn't leave until you ate, not a little, but everything, because there was no point in studying so much and not taking care of your own body.]

Contudo, o Sanji não era um namorado indelicado, ele compreendia a sua situação, ele compreendia a sua angústia, ele sabia que você se sentia sob pressão, porém por não querer invadir seu espaço ele sentia-se arrependido por não ter te ajudado logo, ele sabia que devia ter intervido imediatamente para aplacar a situação, ele desejava não ter te deixado sozinha por muito tempo.

[However, Sanji was not an impolite boyfriend, he understood your situation, he understood your anguish, he knew you felt under pressure, but because he didn't want to invade your space he felt sorry for not having helped you soon, he knew he should have intervened immediately to placate the situation, he wished he hadn't left you alone for too long.]

Com o estômago tenso e os olhos pesados de sono você comeu e bebeu tudo o que seu namorado trouxe, ainda assim, você se sentia muito angustiada por tê-lo preocupado, e quase não conseguia encara-lo nos olhos, você sabia que comida era um assunto delicado para o Sanji, não devia ter negligenciado isso. Você esparava não ter gerado gatilhos nele.

[With your stomach tense and eyes heavy with sleep you ate and drank everything your boyfriend brought you, yet you felt very distressed for having worried him, and could barely look him in the eye, you knew food was a touchy subject for Sanji, I shouldn't have overlooked that. You expected to not have generated triggers on it.]

Ao terminar, o Sanji ainda mantinha o semblante sério olhando para você, ele parou de fumar o seu cigarro. "Nunca mais faça isso S/N-san, você não deve descuidar do seu belo corpo." Você sabe que o Sanji nunca vai tentar lhe controlar, ele é sempre um amor para você, de qualquer forma você não planejava lhe dar essa preocupação.

[When finished, Sanji still kept his serious face looking at you, he stopped smoking his cigarette. "Never do that again Y/N-san, you mustn't neglect your beautiful body." You know Sanji will never try to control you, he's always a sweetheart to you, anyway you didn't plan on giving him that worry.]

Agora que você estava alimentanda, você se sentia pesada e estava quase dormindo, mas precisava de um banho, porque sabia que estava fedendo, e não se lembrava qual foi o seu último.

[Now that you were feeding, you felt heavy and you were almost asleep, but you needed a shower, because you knew you were stinking, and you couldn't remember what your last one was.]

O Sanji vai querer que você relaxe depois de tudo, ele deseja o seu bem estar e você precisa urgentemente fazer uma pausa, e dessa vez ele não aceitará um não.

[Sanji will want you to relax after all, he wants your well being and you urgently need to take a break, and this time he won't take no for granted.]

Se você desejar ele vai preparar o seu banho em uma banheira para você relaxar, mas se você preferir um banho rápido ele entenderá.

[If you wish he will prepare your bath in a bathtub for you to relax, but if you prefer a quick bath he will understand.]

Ele irá lhe envolver em uma toalha felpuda e quentinha, irá pentear o seu cabelo e te colocar na cama. Se seu cérebro estiver muito ansioso para dormir, ele deitará com você até que você esteja calma o suficiente para deslizar sobre o mundo dos sonhos.

[He'll wrap you in a fluffy, warm towel, comb your hair and tuck you into bed. If your brain is too eager to sleep, it will lie with you until you are calm enough to slip into the dream world.]

Agarrada ao Sanji, ele manterá os braços firmes e aconchegantes ao seu redor. A sua cabeça descansa no peito vestido dele. Com os seus últimos resquícios de consciência restantes, você sente o peito dele subir e descer calmamente, sente sua respiração suave que lhe embala, sente agradavelmente em seu olfato o seu almíscar característico, uma mistura de especiarias selecionadas, a maresia do mar, o arranho da nicotina, uma notória loção de barbear, juntamente com sua colônia e sua essência natural, esse era o cheiro do seu namorado, o cheiro que te reconfortava, o cheiro de Sanji.

[Clinging to Sanji, he will keep his arms tight and cozy around you. His head rests on his clothed chest. With the last shreds of consciousness remaining, you feel his chest rise and fall calmly, feel his soft breath cradling you, pleasantly smells its characteristic musk, a mixture of selected spices, the salty air of the sea, the sting of nicotine, a notorious shaving lotion, along with her cologne and her natural scent, that was your boyfriend's scent, the scent that comforted you, Sanji's scent.]

Se você pedir para ele cantar uma canção para você, ele irá pigarrear se preparando e cantará suavemente em seu pé de ouvido, como um sussurro, alguma calção perdida do North Blue ou alguma que ele ouviu enquanto vivia no Baratiê.

[If you ask him to sing you a song, he will clear his throat in preparation and sing it softly in your ear, like a whisper, some lost North Blue shorts or one he heard while living in Baratiê.]

Acarencia o seu cabelo e rosto enquanto sente sua respiração ficar mais pesada depois que se aprofunda no sono. Sussurra palavras de afirmação para que fiquem cravadas em sua subconsciência.

[Caress your hair and face as you feel your breathing get heavier after you sink deeper into sleep. She whispers words of affirmation so they sink into her subconscious.]

Ele aprecia muito o seu esforço, e se sente sortudo por ter uma mulher tão dedicada e inteligente como companheira. Ele quer que você saiba disso, e você caí no sono enquanto o escuta lhe afirmar, ele nunca desconsideraria o seu esforço, sua atitude foi prejudicial sim, mas ele compreende suas razões, porém sabe que você pode melhorar, se equilibrar, e ele estará sempre ao seu lado para lhe dar apoio, ele não vai deixar sua mulher sozinha.

[He greatly appreciates your effort, and feels lucky to have such a dedicated and intelligent woman as a companion. He wants you to know that, and you fell asleep while listening to him say, he would never disregard your effort, your attitude was harmful yes, but he understands your reasons, but he knows that you can improve, balance, and he will always be by your side to support you, he will not leave his woman alone.]

Ele ainda está abraçado com você meia hora depois que você dormiu, ainda acarenciado sua cabeça e suas costas. Ainda não anoiteceu e ele decide hesitante lhe deixar dormindo tranquila, mas você resmunga inconsciente quando ele tenta se levantar sorrateiramente da cama, dessa forma, ele também decide fazer uma pausa e descansar com você. Essa foi sem dúvida o melhor sono que vocês já tiveram.

[He's still hugging you half an hour after you've slept, still caressing your head and back. It's not dark yet and he hesitantly decides to let you sleep peacefully, but you mumble unconsciously as he tries to sneak out of bed, in this way, he also decides to take a break and rest with you. This was without a doubt the best sleep you've ever had.]

#headcanons #headcanons one piece #headcanons Sanji #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanjionepiece #sanji imagine #fluff #angst #one piece #one piece sanji #one piece br #one piece brasil #animes brasil #animes and manga #sanji x reader #fic writing #headcanons writing #fanfic #vinsmoke sanji com uma s/n que negligência o sono e as refeições por causa dos estudos - headcanons #vinsmoke sanji with an y/n who neglects sleep and meals because of his studies - headcanons

[le-souriant]

#MusicMonday Review - July 2023

#MusicMonday is the hashtag I've been using for quite a while to share music recommendations from up-and-coming artists. Always fresh, and always different, trying to look for trends before they become one. You can check June's review for more music.

Love, work, relationships, and social media. This is how modern lives are entangled, and music can reflect our take on them. Have a listen, and read a word from the artists themselves. 🎧

Scarlet Street – Mazda Miata & Clinical Depression

I tried doing the right thing But it’s an albatross to me Keep getting caught in my own wake

You wanted honesty? Yeah you were right about me. Cause more harm then I let on. You wanted empathy? Get better friends than me.

Cincinnati, Ohio is our starting point with a Pop Punk track about causing every problem that the band find themselves in:

"I’d say this song is pretty autobiographical, it’s about a time in my life when I felt like I was taking advantage of people feeling sorry for me and I wasn’t being a very good friend. I think a lot of times people can only see what’s going on with someone on the surface and you can unfortunately fool people pretty easily by faking emotions and that’s a lot of what this one is about."

Mr. Bliss – Satélite

Quizá la mañana se lleve todos esos recuerdos Que me hacen escapar de la realidad Por mucho tiempo

Pensé que las ideas serían tan solo cosas de un momento y ya no se a donde ir

Los escenarios repetidos en mi mente para entender

Now let's move to Merida, Mexico for a Pop Rock ballad about being lost in the night with your own thoughts:

"The song is inspired in love stories, that as well as all things in the Universe has a start and an ending, but within those two lines there is separation and togetherness both physical and emotional. So that is why we decided to talk about the sea, the moon, the night, the morning and elements that describe metaphorically the journey of a love story."

Winter Leaves – Feel

Your demons dragged you away You never came to see me play You left me all the shame You and I, we’re the same

From sunny Mexico, we land now in Reykjavik, Iceland, for a Rock track about losing track about yourself, and reality, for a passionate relationship:

"The song is about toxic love and it’s consequences.

And the song was in the finals in a songwriting contest at Radio X, Iceland��s biggest rock station. 😁"

Delta Crash – Set it Right

Maybe our sanity goes you lose focus even more

Ghent, Belgium, is our next stop, with an atmospheric Indie Rock track, about the struggles of a long, psychedelic day at work:

"It's a track about work that feels never done being a creative. About the perks of endless fine tuning . How something never feels finished until the deadline is there."

Filibuster – Can't Unfriend Yourself

Why they call it youth Cuz its never yours You add up the years But they never amount

You failed to hide The screens too bright Keep the pain inside Can’t unfriend yourself Can’t unfollow your feelings

We move from dreamy Ghent to noisy Antwerp for a Post Punk track that deals with social media as someone's identity, where the content is fake but the cover art is true. Band member Karl explains:

"Usually the first words I write are random, and it only starts making sense or coming together later. I think I had a vague idea about aging, looking back and wondering who you were, which you can hear in the first verse.

Generally the song turned out to be generally about struggling to like yourself and not being able to escape being you. Specifically about how someone's online persona reflects thus.

It's a digital veil that should hide or embellish who we are, but ends up betraying more about ourselves if anyone bothers to look through the charade. Your social media profile ends up becoming a sort of shrine to your own insecurities and flaws.

I couldn't give you a specific inspiration apart from, you know, being a person haha

Maybe a possible inspiration is when I found out I could assume that when certain people's posting frequency went up, that they were either having a tough time and probably just turned single and started creating a new identity."

Listen to them and much more on the complete Playlist:

#music #musicmonday #review #2023 #july #Spotify

[xxc0mp4ctd1scxx]

I was full of rage for a moment about metal music and, well, bigotry things, but to short and make it not graphic I wanna say something after this moment.

Don't matter your music taste, your aesthetic, your fandom and whatever, the political topic need to be discussed, cuz if it isn't it can come up to make some "apolitical" individuals, or even yourself can be/become one.

It isn't good to be like this cuz, I can't believe I gonna say this thing genuinely but, we live in a society, and by that I mean that we deal with minorities being hated daily and if you/we aren't aware of it and how to not perpetuate those things that make the hate seem legit you will continuing sharing those hateful things and, as along, continuing the hate that brings harm to minorities groups.

#i may have sounded a little repetitive with those words #sorry about that #but take your momento to reflect about it and see by yourself what is the good thing to do #metalhead #heavy metal #antifa #antinazi #fandom #political debate #idk how to tag it more

[genshin-impacted]

empress of the first water // Zhongli x Reader (1)

Word Count: ~2.2k

Palace/Harem Imperial Drama AU: You are a princess, soon-to-be-Empress, and Zhongli is the teacher invited by the royal court to show you the ropes before you ascend to the throne after a royal tragedy. 

Notes: female!reader, eventual mutual pining, fake political maneuvers, mentions of death (yes, this is a set up to a harem drama, but Zhongli is focused in this), Zhongli POV

[Next]

hello welcome to the AU I made up; hope I finish this someday :)

“You are unfit to lead this country.”

Not two weeks after a tragedy that hits the royal family, leaving you the sole heir to the throne, that is what has been said to you over and over again. The royal court adjourns without delay, placing you in the middle of it-- though you could care less.

You hold whatever you have been able to salvage from the fire: a necklace momento from your father, the dress that your mother had woven herself. And in your hands, you hold in an urn the ashes of what remains of your family. 

There is nothing else on your mind except for the fact that you are alone as the lone heir to the throne, the only living princess of the royal bloodline, and soon-to-be Empress of a nation that you are not prepared to lead.

You just want to mourn.

.

.

.

Zhongli has lived long enough to understand that politics will always be the determining factor in which his life will be led. It does not matter what he dreams of doing or what he desires. As the only born son to one of the oldest and most prestigious families in the nation, his life has never been his own-- though he supposed no one born of royalty has ever been truly in control of their path.

Still, Zhongli finds ways to play what cards he has. He earns praises for his wide array of knowledge in tradition, politics, and culture alike, but it is easy to know something if you are interested in it. He remembers vividly when Guizhong teased him, calling him an old soul when he delved personally into the traditions of tea ceremony, of calligraphy and poetry, out of his own volition because he enjoyed learning. His skills in the polearm-- also passed down in his lineage-- have also not been neglected, for he finds that it is similar to dancing, an elegant and respectful pastime that he often admires in operas and shows that he indulges himself in. If he could do anything with his life, Zhongli thinks he would be a writer or a teacher, or possibly even a historian.

("Old man," Guizhong had said to him affectionately for the last time before she left the compound to serve her duty as a princess, like many others. "One day you'll find yourself someone who listens to you and you'll talk their ear off."

"I doubt anyone would listen to what I have to say willingly," he had said, and his friend had only given him a soft look and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

"I don't," she said.)

It has been years since he has entertained the idea of living a quiet life writing his knowledge onto paper and even longer still since had long last seen his childhood friend. Zhongli finds himself in the fray of politics that he knows so much of and has no choice but to delve into when he is invited to the royal capital.

"It is a great honor," his father had said to him, hands behind his back, "to be meeting the Princess of the royal family. Make a good impression; this is of the utmost importance."

Political maneuver, Zhongli thinks immediately, not doubting the intention of an invitation coming from the palace, especially after the incident he has been told of. A fire of great destruction, the burning of a whole wing with the royal family trapped inside-- one would think it was a plot to overthrow the Emperor, but if anyone were to stage a coup, they would have burned the inner walls of the palace where the man resides, bedridden. A great coincidence to have the royal family unable to escape, but it almost seems too malicious to call it that. Gross neglect? Bad luck? Karma? Truly, a tragedy as the death of many could not be described worse than as an accident. 

Zhongli thinks it is much too early to be moving the chess pieces so soon after half the board has been razed to the ground, but he supposed the world has never been that kind.

With a trained expression, Zhongli picks up the tea that had been brewed and takes a sip (too bitter, stepped too long, he thinks, wincing slightly, and putting the cup down). "I understand, father." He pauses for a moment and considers his words. "Is there a particular reason for this invitation?"

"The Princess is in need of education due to her lack of preparation as an heir," he says, "though I also hear she is in need of a husband as well."

The tea leaves in the cup trembles for a moment before sinking. "Father?"

"This is an opportunity of a lifetime, son."

And Zhongli thinks about his role, his abandoned journal, and books yet to be read and nods. "I understand," he says, wondering why, even though he expects where his life has been leading, he feels disappointed by the outcome anyway. "I will bring honor to our family."

"I expect nothing less," is what is said to him, and Zhongli swallows the bitterness of the tea down.

.

.

When Zhongli arrives at the palace, he is welcomed with all the excitement that is to be expected from the arrival of a son whose family holds prestige. Maids of many numbers cater to his every whim, and the few court officials who seem to favor him welcome him to the royal palace, which is broad and grand just as history would describe them. 

Briefly, he wonders if it is professionalism or greed that maintains the palace’s daily businesses after an evident tragedy.

"I would like to extend my greetings and gratitude to the princess for allowing me in her castle," Zhongli says carefully, his voice even and words like silk-- just as he was taught as an educated man-- and watches in confusion as the nobleman who had barely kept his pleasure at his presence suddenly deflate. 

"Ah, yes, of course, you would like to see the Princess," he says, a nervous lilt to his voice. "But I'm afraid she is preoccupied with another commitment at the moment. My apologies."

Invitation from the Princess, he remembers reading from the telegram, thinking it strange that someone would invite someone without intentions of welcoming them. It's easy to come to the conclusion that the Princess had not sent the message-- and the thought that she may not even know of his arrival also comes following after. Instead of speaking, Zhongli nods, much to the noble's relief as he continues to parade and provide him the tour that he has not asked for but appreciates nevertheless.

His room is two halls down the main chambers where you live. If the location and proximity to royalty were not enough, the room itself was also vast and much too big for one person, but he supposes luxury and decadence can be shown in empty space as well as it can with beautiful trinkets and trophies. Zhongli has always admired such things, as he does with the ornate statue sitting on top of his vanity and wonders when, if he ever does, he will be able to explore the castle in between whatever responsibilities the court deems him in need for.

"Maid," Zhongli says gently, but the young maid startles anyway when he addresses her. 

"Yes, sir?"

"Would I be allowed to stroll the gardens of the west side of the palace?" He says, "The moon is to be full tonight and I wish to view it."

She flushes, for reasons that Zhongli knows not for. "I-I believe so. The guards should be patrolling at the moment, but you are a recognized guest of the palace, so all should be well."

When Zhongli steps out onto the carefully maintained rock garden, he spots a few men walking down and up the inner walls of the castle. He briefly thinks about the number of them but thinks no further, for now. Instead, he thinks the moon is best viewed when its reflection is in the water, clouds are nowhere in sight, and all is quiet. He comes close to the perimeter of the garden inner castle, expecting to see no one. 

Zhongli steps into the moonlight and watches as you sit onto the grass and lean your head against the lone lantern post.

Perhaps you are here to moon-gaze as well, he thinks and goes to alert you with his presence by clearing his throat. He doesn't know why his earnest attempts to be unalarming go unwell, but he startles you into turning around. 

Zhongli does not know what the Princess looks like, nor has he had anyone describe you to him. But Zhongli knows who you are if not solely from the emblem you carry on your headpiece and the way you hold a funeral urn in your lap like it is the only thing tethering you. As such, he expects the caustic demands of his name and stature, as expected of a Princess, but he is surprised to find that you look at him instead like a deer in headlights, arms tense around the urn.

"My apologies for startling you, my lady," Zhongli begins, "that was not my intention."

"Oh, no, it's okay," you stammer, and he has to blink for a moment at the manner in which you speak. "I should have probably noticed you coming. I was distracted."

Princesses and princes of the royal family are taught three things from birth: power, manners, and tradition. Nothing says more about your status than the way you hold yourself and the way you speak, especially if you are of royalty, and so every word that one must speak seems carefully crafted and intricately woven with elegance. A tad bit obnoxious, if anyone could say, but it is a mark of the elite, regardless of the former. 

But you, who hold possibly one, if not the most, powerful title in the country, speak casually and without bothering with a mask of neutrality, as though you are unused to the burdens of sovereignty.

Your eyes are gentle, almost excessively so, and the way you hold yourself as though you want to be unnoticed are both strange but corroborating evidence of your peculiarities of a noblewoman. Though Zhongli has yet to understand why this is so, the instructions his father listed and his role in the castle has become clearer.

Zhongli has many questions, too many to ask about to a person who has no idea who he is. 

Decorum takes him before his curiosity overwhelms him, and he lowers his head in deep respect. "My name is Zhongli, Princess. Thank you for allowing me to stay as a guest within the palace.”

"Oh," he hears you breathe out, "you're the one that came today." You turn your head toward the koi pond that beautifully reflects the moon. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to greet you," you say mechanically, trained.

"No, that's quite alright," Zhongli says mildly, glancing down at the urn still in your hands. "I'm sure greeting a stranger would be the least of your concerns at the moment."

At this, you smile at him. It is not a happy smile, but rather a pained one that strains your lips and pinches your eyes. Zhongli thinks back on his first lesson to maintain his expression, to keep composure, and almost marvels at the emotions clear on your face for him to see. 

(He thinks this may make your life harder for you, to wear your heart on your sleeves. But he finds himself selfishly wanting you to stay as you are.)

"I've been told one week is all I should be given to mourn, as typical of a funeral ceremony. My parents' ashes should be released but…" You glance up at the night sky dim with stars. "I know in my heart this is not the place for them."

"Then what is the place?" Zhongli echoes and holds his breath when the smile you give him is gentle beyond measure.

"Some place where the wind blows," you say, "where the earth is clean and the ocean is near. That way, my parents can choose freely where to find rest." You laugh. "That must be a pretty tall order, isn't it?"

"You are a Princess," Zhongli finds himself saying, and you turn back to him. "I believe you are allowed to demand only the very best, for yourself and your loved ones."

"I believe," he continues, when he sees your eyes mist over, "that I am here to tutor you in the ways the court deems fit. I have been praised to have a wealth of knowledge and the privilege of history in my family as well as the power of my lineage; I will guide you as best as you need me to." He pauses. "And… if you require a geographical lesson on the highest peaks, the widest oceans, and the most open plains, for reasons beyond academic, I will be available to you."

.

.

.

Zhongli returns to his room (two halls away, he reminds himself, from you), and it is only then he realizes that he has not looked at the moon at all. Not directly, he thinks, but he supposes he did see a glimpse of it, as it stands behind you as a backdrop to frame the smile you gave him that was as bright as starlight.

#zhongli #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin zhongli #genshin impact zhongli #genshin imagines #genshin au #imperial drama au

[volturicangetit]

A.V/J.V- Loved at last

Summary: After getting rejected by your imprints, Emmett and Rosalie, you needed a fresh start. So you go to Italy where you meet two interesting vampires. Maybe they can show you what’s it’s like to be loved.

Reqeust: YES/no @rexburn12​  : Where Male Reader Was Banished From La Push For Imprinting On Emmett, and Rosalie They Reject Him Which Almost Kills Him, and Makes Reader Extremely Sad and Reader Moves To Volterra, Italy To Work As A Mechanic. Alec and Jane Smell A Amazing Scent They Follow It To See Their Mate Reader At Home Who Looks Sad Which Makes Them Growl in Anger and It Catches Reader's Attention He Looks At Them, and Imprints On Them Making Him Shocked. Since Imprinting Is A One Time Thing For Shifters.

Warnings: swearing, self hate

Wordcount: 3226

A/N: I’m turning 17 tomorrow ( may 19 )! I can’t really celebrate my birthday but at least I can celebrate it with my parents and siblings. Also I’m born on the same day as Jojo Siwa so that....nice?

PART TWO

MASTERLIST

Saying that you ' hate yourself ' can't even express the amount of disgust you feel towards yourself. You know that it's something you can't control, something that isn't a choice. But still feel like it's your fault that you imprinted on not one, but two vampires. You didn't even know that it was possible to imprint on something that died decades ago. The fact that they both rejected you didn't help. You knew that they wouldn't love you but you were hoping to at least be friends.

" You fucking what? " Rosalie screams at the top of her dead lungs. You flinch as she takes a step towards you, lowering your head. " They can't control it, " Carlisle tries to reason, but Rosalie and Emmett ignore him. You feel Emmet wrap his hands around you and lift you off the ground. Within a second you're outside of the house where he roughly pushes you onto the ground, right into the mud. You sit there on your hands and knees trying to regain yourself which is very fucking difficult when your covered in mud and getting soaked slowly by the rain pouring down on you. It was like the universe wanted you to suffer even more.

" Did you seriously think that we would accept you? You're a fucking dog. " Rosalie says as she and Emmet are standing on their porch. It's only now that you see the contrast between you all. They're standing dry in their expensive house while you're laying in the mud, which comforts you for some odd reason. You stand up quickly, pushes some of the rain of off your face.

" Please, you know I wouldn't have come here if I could just go without you. ". Your voice cracks at every word. You came here vulnerable and onto the land of your enemies. If Sam knows that you're here, he will rip your head off. Emmett shakes his head but doesn't say anything. He can't bring himself to do so. Sure, he wants to scream at you. To yell some words at you he knows he's going to regret but it's like his mind has shut off. Rosalie, on the other hand, can't stop the words from flowing out. " Go away, you disgusting thing. "

You let yourself slide down the side onto the floor of your shower. The water streaming down onto your already burning skin is way too hot, yet you don't care. You don't deserve nice warm showers. No, you deserve scolding hot showers that makes your skin feel like it's going to fall off. A sob breaks out of your body, causing your shoulder to rumble along with it. You tried so hard to stop yourself from crying. But now you let it all out. Every emotion, every pent up bit of anger, every sad thought. It all comes it whether you want it to or not. Whines and groans come out of your mouth along with the sobs. You know the other pack members can hear you, not just crying, but also through your mental bond. Their voices and questions of concern are being blocked out by you. The only thing you can hear if your own sobbing and a dull ringing in your ears.

You don't know how long you've sat in the shower, but you do know that you're going to have a ridiculously high water bill this month. When you get out of the shower and have gotten dressed in a simple pair of sweat pants and a sweater you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. You stop in your track and stare at your own reflection. Your face seems foreign to you. Your normally gleeful eyes are now puffy and look so sickly that you might as well be dead. Your lips are broken from all the screaming and biting at them you've done. It looks weird to see yourself look so broken, but then again, it is said that rejection by your imprint is sometimes not even survived. " What's going on? ". You jump a little as you quickly turn around to see Paul standing behind you. He's leaning against the doorframe, glancing between you and the mirror. " Nothing, you lie. ".

" Oh, come one. We can hear your thoughts, remember? " he says as he taps his temple with his pointer finger. You nod, still looking down at the ground. When you remain quiet, Paul sighs and pulls you into a hug. You freeze at first. He never hugged you, or anyone for that matter. " Those bloodsuckers rejected you? ". You nod as you bury your face into his chest. You needed this. A hug, to help ground you and get you back to reality. " They don't deserve you, you know? ".

" I think I...I think I need to go away for a while, " you keep your voice soft while you speak to try and keep it from cracking. Paul nods before he lets his chin rest on top of your head. " How about Italy? The weather is a lot better there. I know some people there, " Paul suggests. You pull him closer to you. Italy. Nice, warm Italy. Away from Emmett and Rosalie, away from the pack. It will hurt like shit, but it's the best for you. A fresh start. A normal life. No vampires living right next door, no pack fights, no drama between Jacob, Bella and Edward. Just you and Italy. " Yeah, it sounds nice, "

---

Two months. Two months without cloudly Forks. It has done you good. Extremely good. You didn't realize how depressed that place made you until you left. The moment you felt the comforting Italian sun hit your skin was the moment you knew you made the right choice. You didn't talk to Paul's friends a lot. You got a place of your own after a couple of weeks, due to how small the town was everyone who was trying to sell their house was practically begging you to buy their house. You picked up your hobby of tinkering again, now using to be a mechanic though. The town needed one so you were happy to oblige. It was refreshing to have new faces around and a new environment. The sadness that once had its grip on your has disappeared, now only present in dark memories.

You pick up an apple that is laying on your kitchen table before making your way out of your house and towards your work. Not many costumers would come in, if at all. A festival is being celebrated in a nearby town. Naturally, almost everyone in the village has gone there to have a party. You didn't want to do that though, be around people and all. Plus this new free time would give you time to catch up with work and make some preparations for the next day. The walk to your work is short, yet you still enjoy it every day. Back in Forks, you hated the sound of the birds singing but here you enjoy it so much. The birds sing a different song here. One of joy instead of sadness.

" Buongiorno, " you say to your coworker as you walk into the store. Your Italian is far from perfect but it's getting better every day. " Come va? " your coworker, Piero, asks. " Bene. And you? ". He just nods at you with a smile before he resumes to fix what looks like a clock. You really couldn't tell though, most things that come to the store for fixing are broken beyond recognition. You sit down at your workspace and take in the mess that is laying before you. You need to clean that, definitely. You have enough time today to do so anyways

Going for a stroll through the city isn't something the twins would normally do but today was an exception. A sudden rainstorm has been hovering over the area, blocking out the sun and allowing them to go outside without fear. That and the fact that most inhabitants of San Cipriano were now in Volterra for the festival. They dressed down, replacing their usual robes with a dress in Jane's case and jeans and a sweater for Alec. They talked about normal things like the new store that just opened up down the block and books they've read. It feels nice to them to feel so normal. Anyone who saw them would think that they are just a brother and sister enjoying the cool afternoon weather and not two vampires who work for the three kings.

" They have this machine that can induce dreams, " Alec says as he tries to explain the plot of ' Inception ' to Jane. She nods as she only half listens to his story, more focussed on watching a group of children play hide and seek on the other side of the road. The two siblings are sitting on a bench right next to the cemetery, ironically enough. " Sounds fascinating, " Janes says.

Alec nods before resuming his explanation. Jane enjoys seeing her brother so happy. They were both way too serious for their age, not having enjoyed their childhood years as they should have. Seeing him so passionate and happy about something surely put a smile on her face. Alec stops his words however when a sudden gust of winds blows a particularly sweet smell towards them. Both siblings look at each other as they inhale the scent. " Apple, " Jane says

" And rust. Delicious, " Alec adds. Jane slowly points towards the direction of your store. Alec nods and stands up from the bench, getting what his sister means. Both twins slowly stroll to your shop, they want to see who this scent is coming from but at the same time are to content to feel any sort of rush.

The sound of a bell ringing notifies you that someone entered the shop. " Un momento! " you call out from the back of the shop. You quickly wipe the oil that has been building up of your hands with a cloth before making your way to the front of the store to help the new costumers out. The moment you lay your eyes on the twins is when the world stops. You'd be lying to say that they aren't beautiful. Every birthmark on their skins seems so perfect that it has had to be placed there by the angels themselves. A sudden rush of adrenaline fills your body. Every detail about them become highlighted. You know this feeling, you know what this means. You didn't think you could imprint again but here you are, imprinting on the twins. Apparently, your wolf seems to have a preference for imprinting on duos. " I...I...Can I.... ". Your mind can't seem to form words at the moment. It's too busy with taking the twins in, to memorise every single thing about them.

The moment your mind starts to get clearer, you can start to smell them. The dry, campfire-like smell that comes of them suddenly starts to make sense. Vampire. Of course, you had to imprint on vampires again. Jane and Alec also caught the hint of dog and forest in your scent, both realizing that they're in deep shit now. They know you're their mate, they didn't need to notify the other on it. The way they both feel this need to protect you and the way your scent has intoxicated them both said enough. " You're our mate, " Jane says softly. Her usually cold and stern voice now sounds honey sweet.

The realisation of the whole situation only seems to be catching up to you now. The whole two months you spent here, trying to rebuild your life and your mental health seems to be for nothing now. They will reject you. Those words seem to float around your head. You shake your head softly, feeling tears pricking up into your eyes. You take a couple of steps back and away from them. " I-I'm sorry. I can't. Not now, " you say before disappearing into the back of the shop and leaving the confused twins behind in the shop.

You can feel your wolf aching under your skin, begging to be let out. You rush out of the store through the backdoor. You chose your place of work strategically, right next to the forest, which you are very thankful for right now. You let your walls down and let the wolf in you come forth. The ache under your skin stops as your shift begins. Within seconds you're in your wolf form. Tall and frightening for most you stand there for a second, looking back at the store before making a run for it and into the forest. You sit there in your own mind, drowning in your own thoughts as the wolf takes control of your body. Normally, you would try to at least have a sliver of self-control, not now, however. Now you want nothing more than to get lost into the woods.

It doesn't feel like your in your own body, it feels like your floating above it. Memories is all your seeing. Rosalie and Emmett screaming at you. The disgusted looks in their eyes and the harsh words them threw at you without a second thought. They'll do the same. You're sure of it. How could a vampire ever love you? How could someone ever love you?

---

Wet grass brushes against your cheek. The prominent smell of dirt and daisies fills your nose. Slowly, you open your eyes. You're laying on your back, which you only realize now. You stare up at the dark sky above you. The sun is long gone. Now it's replaced by the moon and a thousand stars. It must be later than three a.m. Maybe even later. You should probably move and get inside before you catch a cold but you can't bring yourself to do so. You're to mentally and physically drained from your shift earlier this evening. After regaining yourself, you finally find the strength to get up from the grass. Every bone in your body aches as you stand up for the first time in hours. You stretch a little, getting used to your human form again. Slowly but surely you walk to your front door. The warmth that meets you the moment you open your door falls over you like a blanket. Sudden tiredness washes over you. You let out a jawn as you walk over to your living room, reading to crash on your couch.

Instead of an empty couch, you find two vampires sitting on it, the same there were in the shop earlier. " What are you doing on my house? " you ask. Your body fills with adrenaline again. A warm fuzz fills your brain now that you're around your imprints. " I'm Jane, ". You nod at her statement.

" Cool, and I'm very fucking confused about why you're in my house. ". Both twins laugh a little at your joke. " You got humour in you, alright. " Alec says. You nod, slowly walking a little more towards them. You hate that you're so drawn to them. They like us. You stop in your steps. Why could you hear Jane's thoughts? Is this another part of this weird vampire-imprint thing?

" I'm sure that you have some question, " Alec begins. You cut him off before he can finish his sentence thought. " Yeah like why two members of the Volturi are in my house. ". Both look at you with big eyes, confused as to how you know them. You throw your arms up in the air. " Oh come one, I lived in the same town as the Cullens! You guys came over like every other weekend for Bella and Edward! ".

You sit down on your couch. Letting your elbows rest on your knees so your hands can hold your head up. You let out a deep sigh. Why did this kind of shit always happen to you? " Look, I know you won't want me and that's fine. Just break the news to me, we don't have to tiptoe around it, " you say, just trying to get them to get to the point. Alec's hand is suddenly underneath your chin. He angles your head in a way so that you're looking up at him. " You think we don't want you? ". You nod.

" No, don't ever think that, " Jane says as she sits down beside you. " It's maybe a bit...unusual to have a wolf as a mate but we definitely want you. If you want us. ". You can't help the small smile from spreading onto your face. They want you. They didn't reject you or call you a dog. " Of course I want you, have you seen yourself? You're both hot. ". The twins send each other a smile. Jane gets up from the couch and stands in front of you next to Alec. She holds her hand out for you to grab. " Come home with us. ". You nod at her before grabbing her hand. Finally, you can go to a home where you're loved.

---

The ringing of the phone seems to go on so long that you're afraid you're calling won't be picked up. You wanted to call home, to tell them how well you're doing. You just hope that someone will pick up. Finally, the call gets picked up. " Hello? " Seth says on the other side of the line. " Seth! " you call out happily. The annoyance in his voice is gone in an instant and replaced by happiness. " Y/n! You called! How are you? ".

" Better than ever, " you say happily, glancing over at Jane and Alec who is standing on the other side of the room talking to Demitri and Felix. You know that they are probably listing along to your call but you don't care. " I'm really good. I um...I imprinted again. ". You wait anxiously for Seth's response. " Really? That's great! Who is it? ".

You and Seth continue to talk for another thirty minutes. Back home things are going great for him and the pack as well. Apparently, Emmett and Rosalie are really sorry but you couldn't care less about them. Not now that you have Jane and Alec. " It was nice to talk to you again. Give my greetings to the rest, yeah? Bye-bye. ". You hang up the call. Within a second, Jane and Alec are standing next to you, both giving you a questioning look.

" He's happy for me. Really happy, " you say with a bright smile on your face. Alec grabs your hand and gives you a kiss on top of your knuckles. " See, I know he would be. ". You nod at his comment. You stand there for a moment before pulling both the twins in for a hug. They wrap their arms around you. Sure, it's a little awkward to hug with three people, but it's comforting at the same time. You take in their scent. At first, you hated the smell of vampire but now it smells like home. You feel happy, truly and utterly happy. Maybe someone could love you after all.

TWILIGHT TAGLIST:

@scuzmunkie​ @thanossexual​ @prettyinblack231​

#alec #alec volturi imagine #alec volturi x reader #alec volturi #jane #jane volturi #jane volturi x reader #jane volturi imagine #twilight imagine #twilight #twilight fanfic #twilight x reader #volturi #volturi x reader #volturi imagine #italy #emmett x reader #emmett cullen x reader #Rosalie x reader #Rosalie cullen x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x reader #imagine #cameron bright #cameron bright x reader #dakota fanning #dakota fanning x reader

[neonthecrazy]

ok, so we may or may not get a teaser for persona 6 this year, it's been a hot minute since any persona stuff has come out, and if they announce another P5 spinoff it could easily come with a P6 teaser attached. regardless of if anything is announced for P6 it will be bare minimum... I want to say 2-5 years till it's relleased in Japan. that being said im going to aimlessly rattle of things I would like to see in persona 6 knowing that none of my followers/mutuals care about the random ass jrpg I just started rebloging stuff about one day (btw hey mutuals I know I don't talk a lot but know i love all of you <3). so let us began the hyperfixiation rant:

give us a female protagonist

retro-gameboy menu aestetic, like in P5 you whip out your phone to fast travel and look at texts, except your MC pulls out a brand safe Nintendo DS to look at character stats and manage healing items

punk rock soundtrack, maybe just my personal biases, but persona 3 had a soundtrack filled with industreal sythrock (I think that's what you call it) that made you feel like you where in a cyberpunk-esk strange destorted world, reflecting the ambiance, P4 had this happy popy soundtrack that hoped to brighten your day and help you stand tall no matter how foggy the situation gets, and P5s smooth jazz and contemporary helping to give the game a calming atmosphere and this deep meloncally and nostalgia for better days, falling in line with the game being about making the world a better place through vigilante acts, if P6 is going to be green themed, like P5 red or P4 yellow, then themes of growth and understanding of one's self may come at the cost of breaking free of oppressive things keeping you down, hence punk rock.

make party members more special, let's take ann from P5 for example, she is the resident mage archetype of the group and does fire magic, by the end of her progression she has conncentrate (2.5 times damage to your next spell) blazing hell (severe fire damage to all enemys) and fire amp/boost (passives that give 25% and 50% fire damage increase respectively), my issue here is: I can make a persona that does way better then that in an afternoon, and then some, with no elemental weakness, ann ain't special. BUT, consider insta-kill abilitys for a moment, they only come in bless and curse elements, they can be very dangerous and quickly end fights, so when Atlus wants an enemy to be tough, they make them null to bless and curse. what if ann had FIRE elemental instakills? they would cost a lot of sp and would only get about a mediam chance of working to balance out, but ann would become essential in finishing fights quick when normal insta-kills are nulled. And with no way to get that kind of ability for yourself, you have to lean on your party more, if they gave something like this to all the party members, it could get really interesting.

normally if your MC dies, it's game over, why is it like that? can it not be like that anymore? thanks.

now that I think about it when you loose a fight can we get a big goofy GAME OVER pop up on the screan?

I want this games talking animal mascot to be a bird, no I will not elaboate

can we have gay romance options? in persona 5 we can romance an alcoholic reporter we meet on the street, but not our best friend with which we kill God with and find ourselves inseparably attatched to, in persona 3 you could romance a middle schooler but not someone of the same gender. WHY

a change to the one more system, let us get a one more from healing. make it so that when you heal a party member from bellow half health to full you get a one more, as I feel that healing is always the only thing a party member can do on there turn, as opposed to attacking and baton passing and doing massive damage to an enemy, healing disrupts the flow, as does debufing enemys, maybe they can have a confidont perk that makes it so that you get a one more from debufing a previous undebufed target?

technicals are cool and all, but P6 should pump the breaks after royal gave you technical levels, it's a time sink i don't think was needed, set the chance of a technical to knock down at a static 50%,

for baton pass I would keep the levels of it, but change the way to rank it up because the the darts minigame was cool twice then it was all over

more then just two combats tracks, maybe slight remixes of them for different dungeons/palaces

P4 let you go back to old dungeons to grind, P5 had momentos for in between palaces, it got kinda annoying how easily you could plow through them, maybe you get, like, a gladiator Arena where the game throughs progesivly harder miniboses at you, with a jose like vender to pay for more exp rewards, and it will cap the difficulty intermittently so you arnt over leveled before the next Palace even opens up

give the MC more agency in the story, in P5 your response doesn't really matter, often having the same reply no matter what you say and only really controlling how quickly you rank with a character.

have other characters ignowedge our romance options, even if its unvoiced lines, I romance makoto and was waiting for sae to say something at the very least offhand about it, and got nothing

can we nix the fusion alarm? I founditmore annoying then anything else, a just want to fuse my persona I peace

#persona 5 #persona #persona 3 #persona 4 #persona series #persona 6 #p5

[obsessionsposts]

Tw: toxic relationship / emotional manipulation at the end / non-con use of drugs.

In the harsh forests of Siberia, there lays a forlorned man kneeling in the ground ; as he observed his sole friend being eaten by the serrated teeth of the snow.

He didn't know which is worse the icy winds that threatens to graze his skin, or the empty void that keeps on growing gradually to enrapture him in a spectral of sorrow; leaving him without a light and any shred of hope.

Not that it mattered anyways, Vladimir was born alone; lived his life alone and probably will die alone.

When the hamster drowned completely ; the man grumbled and stood up to make away to his estranged family whom visits him scarcely in his shack of solitude.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

" приве́т, брат. как дела? ", a familiar care-free voice echoed through the Siberian larch shack.

" Здравствуйте, младшая сестра.Я в поря́дке", replied Vladimir in a monotone tone.

A few minutes have passed, yet the situation kept on getting awkward between the estranged siblings. Until, Dunya abruptly disturbed the silence with her sugary voice.

" Brother, l may not visit you frequently. However, I fret alot about how negligent you've recently become not only toward us, but also toward yourself. So, I have an idea to remedy your desolation. ," the Belarusian suggeted awaiting the response of the reticent male.

"What that may be ? It won't work. No matter any attempt I've conducted to burn the memory. At best it haunts me, at worst, it depletes me.", came the cynical voice of the large man who is huddled beside the fireplace.

"Please understand that I give you my word that this time you'll- , she was cut off by Vladimir.

"No! You lack understandment. If you did understand me back then, why did abandon me? Now, don't try to manipulate me with your sugar-coated words,dear sister", his voice filled with loathe and disregard toward his traitor of a sister. Not that she was of his own blood, which proves his point people are discrenibly not to be trusted.

At one point, they'll take what they want from you; and then they will abandon you at any chance they get. He wont let it happen to him again. Never again.

As he ignored the wailing of his pathetic sister to stay and consider ; he left his shack and decided to go to the nearest town to meet one of the few people he came to trust. (Y/n).

His beloved snowflake.

His latest hope, that he'll make sure to persevere this time.

It's his turn to be selfish and take his reward for all the years of agony and loneliness.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A jingle was heard notifying you that a customer came. Only to be pleasantly surprised, that it was the the russian regular customer; Vladimir.

Well,at first he intimidated you; with his structure,lack of expression,and his nihilistic attitude. With time, as you got to know him better he is such a fascinating and kind man despite the rumors spread about him.

The enormous brunette approached you with a stoic expression decorating his visage, however you knew better that he was glum.

"What seems to trouble you,Vlad? You appear to be out of it today, more than the usual?", you asked concerned about him; considering Vlad repress his emotion which isn't a healthy outlet as of you red about.

Another thing, he cherishes about you that your concerns and frets are genuine. Alongside, your intellect that sparked both his mind and heart alike.

" Нет, just stressed. I want to talk to you,if you're not busy.", he huffed as he inserted his large hands inside the pockets of his overcoat.

" No, not all. Considering I am about to close the shop now. I don't mind accompany you. Just give me a momento~ and I'll be ready.", as you left to close the shop; you didn't notice the ghost of a smile contorting through the face of the brunette russian.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

"So, what are up to,Vlady? and care to share why were you upset? I don't want to be pushy, but If you'd like to share then I am all ears", you remarked and poked the towering man inflicting a warm feeling inside his heart. Just like the sun he rarely saw.

Sighing, as he began to retell about what happened a month ago along with recent happenings.

The way, he spoke about his best friend passing hurt your heart- reflecting your true nature as an empath- and the cold anger of his when he spoke about his family.

You wondered what happened to represent such hate. No matter, what matters now is to bring Vladimir spirits up.

"Say, what would you like me to do to bring your hopes up? Anything you'd like!", as you encircled your arms around his waist or in your case below his stomach.

The warmth of your bodice and it softness clashed against his rough and cold ones made him realize, how much of an important factor you represent in his wretched life with his wretched family and wretched luck.

In addition, if anyone did what you did he will forcefully push them aside. But, you! you are his everything as much as he will be your everything soon enough.

Now, the door of opportunities had granted him this chance to enrapture you in his grasp forevermore; thus he will take it with an iron firm hands.

"да,please. Follow me to my lodge,маленький", offering his hands to you.

Grasping his hands, you began to walk aside him to his abode.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Nothing,but the howling of the wind was heard ; as the both of you strolled toward his domicile. Vladimir reached his pockets to grab the keys and open the inky door.

"Such an interesting and intricate place you got,Vlad. Did you buy it?", stepping inside of the well-decorated abode. Said abode, was built upon black wood, and everything here are made of either wood or rarely metal.

Yet, it captured your interest as you are a fan of vintage architecture such as this.

"Glad you like it. However, I hadn't bought it. If, anything I built from scratch as I have an interest in building structures."

"My, that's amazing!,Vlad. You're such a talented man", you complimented his craftsmanship as you laid your hand at a woman in bridal clothes made from various type of wood.

Meanwhile, as you were immersed in the details of the house ; Vladimir brewed some tea for both him and his wife-to-be.

' It seems that you took my den to your liking. Good, adapt. Because, from on you'll be living here ;you'll become one with me and won't have the chance to leave me.'

" (Y/n)? May you come and chatter with me over a cup of tea?", Vladimir beckoned you as he sat in an umber chair; which is in front of a circular chocolate brown table.

"Sure thing.", trotting toward him with a sparkle of interest residing in your eyes. On the other hand, your guts is telling you otherwise. However, you ignored it. That was the last strike, before your fall down.

" Remember our first meeting? Nostalgic as it may be,but it always have a special place in my dormant heart", the brunette sipped his tea as he awaited your response.

" Indeed, I do !. Infact, I do too cherished and it is very sweet of you to say that. Considering, you're a grumpy bear usually", you remarked playfully,sipped your tea, and watched him glare at you halfheartedly.

" V-vlady, what's happening all of sudden. Why is everything so dizzy?", you spoke as you watch the world around you swirl and black spots began hazing your mind. Before you plummeted to the ground, a large arms had caught you in their arms. It wasn't warm this time,it was deathly cold similar to the embrace of death himself.

The last thing you saw were; Vlad's bloody irises and a cold smile gracing his visage.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Once you awakened from your stupor, you were met directly with the bloody orbs of the person whom took advantage of you.

" Ah! маленький. You've awaken; its seems the drug didn't last long. No matter, what truly matters is that you're with me now." ,Vladmir crawled closer to you. Thus, you started to take a step from your former friend.

"Why are you doing this Vladimir? Why? after all we've been through; you do this", your eyes began to drip in tears as you screamed at your fr- No! at the strange man that possessed your friend.

"Because, you are the only one who cares authentically about me and isn't afraid of me. You painted my grey world with your light. You're the sunshine that I never had, this why I have to keep you away. So, no one would taint you. Can't you see I am a merely broken man shunned and forsakened by his own family?. Yet, you want to take away my chance of happiness,маленький?", Vladimir remarked bitterly,staring intently through your eyes with desolate engraved in his cold dead eyes.

"Just give into me,love. If you won't I might do something we both will regret."

Finally, in the end he have gotten something good out of this pointless life! and he'll will ensure her safety with him as he'll drown her with the love that he never had.

This is a story of man who lost everything,yet he gained something better than everything; eternal love.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A/n: Hope you like it. Sorry if it took so long and thank you for requesting!

Translations:

приве́т, брат. как дела? - Hello,brother. How are you?

Здравствуйте, младшая сестра.Я в поря́дке. - Hello, little sister. I'm fine.

да - Yes.

маленький - little one.

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere hetalia #yandere hetalia x reader #yandere #yandere fandoms #yandere imagines

[conjaime]

Hii can you do a Theodore Laurence imagine pleasee💜💜

ego death ; theodore laurence

Laurie could die by your hands and have no qualms or regrets because you would be the last thing he saw. He had studied a tiny bit of philosophy, of only for you to pique some interest that he happened to be skimming through popular works of René Descartes. He thought that would make him more interesting and somehow make him stand out against the crowd, but you soon moved onto crochet by the time he had actually absorbed anything.

Without you, he couldn’t breathe and his mind began to blur the lines of truth and fiction. His fantasies of you were scribbled with things he would be too mortified to ever read aloud and would always stare when in close vicinity. Even beside the creepiness, it’s not as if you would notice him and all his strange tactics for attention. You never did.

He’d often like to say that you were his first heartbreak, but that would be inaccurate as you two had never really had a romantic connection. Let alone, a steady conversation without him being flustered or blushy. But when you announced your departure to Asia, it felt like some part of him had died.

Stage One: The Spiritual Awakening

He woke, eyes fluttering open with the urge to continue on his daily routine of being a pest to everyone in sight. But he stayed in bed, staring up at his ivory ceiling with something strange clawing at him. Laurie couldn’t describe it, like a piece of him had ripped from his clutches and now he was forced to wallow in some pitiful despair.

His eyes wander around the room, maybe finding something to keep his mind off of you. And his eyes land on Descartes, the name reading clear against the spine of a crimson skinned book. He’d never actually had remembered anything that the man had published, a few quips here and there to impress you; but philosophy bored him and older men telling him how to live his life was even worse.

But his nimble fingers prick at the spine and maybe a bit of refreshing wouldn’t do him any harm.

Stage Two: The Dark Night

Laurie’s a complete mess, others have noticed it and it’s come to the point where he’s utterly aware of his disparity. Jo has given up because she claims he smells like grease and sweat while his grandfather occasionally comes in to only feed him before leaving. He can’t deal with this hole threatening to tear him apart, even with his constant studies, all his mind manages to do is wander back to you.

He looks in the mirror when he figures he looks better than other times and realizes how truly pathetic he is, he can’t even recognize himself anymore. He’s a shell of the boy he used to be, all of this due to your absence. There is nothing but you that remains within his soul.

Isolation, he figured, would always be a fate worse than any death imaginable. But it’s become his only skin that’s left to bare. He feels naked and it’s what propels him to do the right thing.

Stage Three: Exploration

Despite the common misconception about spirituality in fields other than religion, you always had a soft spot for tarot readings and certain types of energy healing. There’s something about it that attracts you to it and your reminded interest in it draws Laurie to explore it more.

He likes citrine out of all the crystals he’s come across, researched to find out it carries some meaning of prosperity and optimism. It’s hung right around his neck, covered by the fluff and frill of his everyday outfits. Sitting at the piano and writing repetitive sonatas that sound good to his ears.

He hopes that sitting and working his fingers to the bone will only lead to reward. He hopes that once you arrive home that you will hear and adore his symphonies all inspired by your lovely memory. Laurie hopes that he can become a better man for you.

Stage Four: Glimpse of Enlightment

When he looks at himself in the mirror, the bags underneath his eyes have become less striking. His sense of self has gone, something that frightens him when he suddenly awakens from a deep slumber in the middle of the night and can’t recall his own name. But this sensation simultaneously intrigues him to discover more.

Books have told him about something underneath what his identity connects to, something labeled as his True Nature. He wants to relish this feeling forever, this gradual enlightment that has been bestowed upon him during your absence. It’s not enough to starve himself of what he craves every singular day of his treacherous life.

Enlightenment is what he seeks and perhaps this heavenly experience will only grow his everlasting affection for you.

Stage Five: Soul Growth

He realizes this doesn’t occur until he’s forced to join Amy during her travels to Europe. Well I. His reflection, that’s when he’s fully aware of the effects occurring during the cycle of ego death. His soul is maturing, maybe not his outer appearance but he can feel it growing tender with each lesson he forces his mind to remember.

He still keeps the citrine wrapped around him, a momento that all of the spirituality stemmed from your jumping interests that changed as quickly as the sun setting. He’s knows Amy has been sent off to find a suitable, meaning wealthy, match for herself and can only assume that you have done the same thing for yourself.

He only wish is that once you return to his home with your husband that you may familiarize yourself with the man he’s grown into. That you may finally notice him as something other than a flustered little boy that can’t even stutter out a full sentence. That in your eyes, he may no longer be a “poor baby” and rather a fully grown cherry to pick from the orchard.

Stage Six: The Surrendering

He has let go of what was most dear to him, your attention and validation. And although some part of him is depressed that his only goal for your relationship has been discarded, it makes him realize that he can expand on what was previously built. That you may guide him into salvation without any insecurities built up by his pathetic ego.

He trusts in his lack of knowledge, that his anger has only been a cover for what had been possessing him all along. He has no fear of what the future may present him, he only knows that soon enough he will return to you and your lovely embrace.

Stage Seven: Awareness and End

It’s the spring when you finally arrive once again, unhappily married and noticeable exhausted. He feels saddened by the result of your exposition but that feeling is subsided once you wrap your arms around him. He’s missed your touch, he’s missed everything about you.

You release him to his disappointment, but the smile stretching your lips apart melts any grievances against the lack of contact during your first meeting in what feels like decades, maybe even centuries. Laurie’s adoration hits him like a ton of bricks and your eyes are enough to send him blushing. He’s grown but under your touch, he’s rendered weak.

“Laurie,” you whisper softly and cup your hand to his rosy cheek, he’s finally been noticed. “the spring is always too kind your features.”

He pressed his head against your hand, lightly kissing your palm. He’s always been some sly romantic, sneaking around acts that he thought you wouldn’t catch. He takes you for a naive fool at time, but his innocence is endearing enough.

“And it’s even more ravishing when I see you against yours.”

You roll your eyes, soft touch turning into a pinch which he yelps at, “You’re such a tease, refreshing compared to the men on my travels.”

He hears that sentence and the butterflies within hi stomach flutter with previously unfound zealousy. This equivalence works in his favor, he’s a man to you now and you’ve grown into his idealistic partner. He wishes he could just melt into you and pepper your face with kisses, but that will have to wait.

After all, you’ve only just returned to your childhood friend, the only man who could truly capture your attention.

“A walk in the garden, my dear?” He dips low into a dramatic curtsy and extends out a hand.

He’s always been a fan for theatrics and you can’t help but accept with a bow of your own. Promptly smacking the back of his head once whole charade is over.

“You’re making me tea, don’t patronize me with exercise.”

idk maybe i like gave up on this when i reaches stage four, but this was probably inspired by listening to ego death in thailand.

#teddy laurence x reader #laurie one shot #teddy laurence #imagine #reader interactive #reader insert #laurie laurence x reader #laurie x reader #little women #little women spoilers #little women 2019 #theodore laurie laurence #laurie laurence #theodore laurence #laurie #one shot

[massistocchifontana]

What can I do for you that I don’t do now?

What can I do for you that I don’t do now?

I love the beauty of linguistics. The more we master our own language the more able we become in expressing artistically our inner world for the outer world to hear, see and understand. This is a process that takes many years to master and I urge everyone to try enhance their linguistic ability even if solely for the purposes of aiding others in hearing you. 

The problem with language is that we get caught up in our own dialectical and although we are consistently trying to relate the dialectic to the other person in communication with us, there is always the chance that we are being misunderstood. The reason for this is that we really speak in dialects because we are constantly in the process of interpreting what a word means for us from a largely subjective point of view. 

 This creates dilemmas at various points when we try and communicate and relate with another person. The reality is that the other is trying to understand your dialectical through their experience, their perception and through their mastery of their own language. In reality it is a recipe for complete misunderstanding.

 The beauty of relationships is that they are often founded on emotions around care and love and compassion and empathy. These emotions all aid in our stickability through the process of trying to hear the other person. These emotions also aid in interpreting their language with a kind eye, ear and heart. This is a position that should always be aimed at being maintained. 

 I often speak about how expectations is a topic that is seldom spoken about in a relationship, because the tone of expectation as a word is quite forceful in sound but very necessary. To dampen the harshness of the word if we come at it with a feeling of hope, the other person on the receiving end of expectation will see it as you being hopeful that you can discuss each other’s expectations.

 In addition to this unless prompted we more than likely have never asked our partner “what can I do for you that I don’t do now?”

 I believe this to be such an important question to ask, not only once in a relationship but at various points throughout the relationship. It is a reflective question not only for our partner but equally for ourselves. It is a check-in type question where we can really ask if how I am being for my partner is enough or are there things that I am overlooking.

 There are always a number of signs that point to misunderstanding and as a baseline within any relationship there needs to be the acknowledgment that if we are arguing it is because something has been misunderstood by one or both parties and there is a equal responsibility for both parties to hold the space for the other until some form of resolution has been experienced. if no resolution has been achieved, then the conversation needs to be revisited again without the common ego response of “not this again” or being dismissive towards the other for needing to bring the topic up again for discussion.

 This goes back to my initial statement that we all speak in dialects and this needs to be respected over the lifetime of the relationship. You are both in a state of constant learning and the moment you acknowledge “I know my partner”, is the moment you are leaning towards stopping the learning.

 Two people in a relationship are always in a state of flux. They are growing continuously but usually at varied speeds. This too has to be respected. Ultimately, if you are getting into a relationship or you find yourself in a relationship you need to accept a very harsh reality and that is relationships take work. They take constant work and it is a continual process of working on yourself in relation to the relationship and working on the relationship in relation to you. 

 So if you have the opportunity of asking these questions do it, because the more engaged and explorative you become with your relationship the more layers of your armour can be peeled back and so goes with your partner too.

 Via Con Dios

     ¿Qué puedo hacer por ti que no hago ahora?

  Me encanta la belleza de la lingüística. Cuanto más dominamos nuestro propio idioma, más capaces de que nos hagamos expresando artísticamente nuestro mundo interno para que el mundo externo escuche, vea y entienda. Este es un proceso que lleva muchos años para dominar y insto a todos a intentar mejorar su capacidad lingüística, incluso si solo para los fines de ayudar a otros al escucharlo.

 El problema con el lenguaje es que nos atrapamos en nuestra propia dialéctica y, aunque estamos tratando de relacionar la dialéctica a la otra persona en comunicación con nosotros, siempre existe la posibilidad de que estemos siendo mal entendidos. La razón de esto es que realmente hablamos en dialectos porque estamos constantemente en el proceso de interpretación de lo que significa una palabra para nosotros desde un punto de vista en gran parte subjetivo.

 Esto crea dilemas en varios puntos cuando intentamos y nos relacionamos y nos relacionamos con otra persona. La realidad es que la otra está tratando de entender su dialéctica a través de su experiencia, su percepción y a través de su dominio de su propio idioma. En realidad es una receta para un completo malentendido.

 La belleza de las relaciones es que a menudo se basan en emociones sobre el cuidado y el amor y la compasión y la empatía. Todas estas emociones ayudan en nuestra admiración a través del proceso de tratar de escuchar a la otra persona. Estas emociones también ayudan a interpretar su lenguaje con un buen ojo, oído y corazón. Esta es una posición que siempre debe estar dirigida a ser mantenida.

 A menudo, hago sobre cómo las expectativas son un tema que rara vez se habla en una relación, porque el tono de expectativa como una palabra es bastante contundente en sonido pero muy necesario. Para humedecer la dureza de la Palabra si llegamos a ello con una sensación de esperanza, la otra persona en el final de la expectativa que recibe, lo verá a medida que tenga la esperanza de que pueda discutir las expectativas de cada uno.

 Además de esto, a menos que nos impondremos más de lo que probablemente nunca le hagamos a nuestro compañero "¿Qué puedo hacer por usted que no hago ahora?"

 Creo que esto es una pregunta tan importante que hacer, no solo una vez en una relación, sino en varios puntos a lo largo de la relación. Es una pregunta reflexiva no solo para nuestro socio sino también por nosotros mismos. Es una pregunta de tipo de check-in en la que realmente podemos preguntarnos si lo que estoy siendo para mi pareja es suficiente o hay cosas que estoy pasando por alto.

 Siempre hay una serie de señales que apuntan a malentendidos y como una línea de base dentro de cualquier relación, debe ser el reconocimiento de que si estamos argumentando, es porque algo ha sido mal entendido por una o ambas partes y existe una responsabilidad igual de ambas partes para mantener el espacio para el otro hasta que se haya experimentado alguna forma de resolución. Si no se ha logrado ninguna resolución, entonces la conversación debe ser revisada nuevamente sin la respuesta común del ego de "no esta otra vez" o destitando a la otra para la necesidad de obtener el tema nuevamente para su discusión.

 Esto se remonta a mi declaración inicial de que todos hablamos en dialectos y esto debe respetarse durante la vida útil de la relación. Ambos están en un estado de aprendizaje constante y en el momento en que usted reconoce "conozco a mi pareja", es el momento en que se está inclinando hacia la detener el aprendizaje.

 Dos personas en una relación están siempre en un estado de flujo. Están creciendo continuamente, pero generalmente en velocidades variadas. Esto también tiene que ser respetado. En última instancia, si se está metiendo en una relación o se encuentra en una relación, debe aceptar una realidad muy dura y que las relaciones tomen el trabajo. Toman trabajo constante y es un proceso continuo de trabajar en relación con la relación y trabajar en la relación en relación con usted.

 Entonces, si tiene la oportunidad de hacer estas preguntas, porque cuanto más comprometido y explorativo se convierte en su relación, las más capas de su armadura se pueden pelar y así también va con su pareja.

 Vía con dios

#relationship betterment #relational foundation Massimo.Love #relationship goals #relationship problems #relationship success #relational foundation blueprint #sacred sexuality #bad relationship #surrender

[lupoo24]

Italiano: Positivismo? Cos’è? Come si fa ad essere positivi con mondo che ti crolla addosso, da sola, senza qualcuno che ti aiuti a sorreggerlo ancora per un po’, che ti aiuti a costruire un tetto, che ti faccia sentire a casa. Ditemi come si fa perché davvero io non ne ho idea. Vedo persone in giro che non sanno neanche che significa dover riparare una tegola, persone che non hanno mai visto l’acqua entrare da un buco causato dalla tempesta, che sono sempre state al caldo, là vicino al camino . Poi penso a me e al fatto che quando ho freddo, nessuno mai mi ha acceso il camino o anche solo dato una coperta per riscaldarmi. Ed in questi momenti che mi sale una enorme e tormentante rabbia. Che hanno fatto quelle persone per meritarsi una vita felice, semplice o anche un po’ di amore nella loro quotidianità. Perché invece io devo passare tutto questo, devo vedere il mondo che cade a pezzi senza pietà. Se parlassi con Manzoni probabilmente si appellerebbe alla provvida sventura per farmi sentire meglio, probabilmente mi ricorderebbe la storia di Lucia e Renzo e di come alla fine tutte i loro dolori e fatiche siano giunti alla felicità. Ma a quel punto gli chiederei “allora dove sta questa mia felicità? Quanto ancora devo sopportare? Quanto ancora devo resistere, da sola, a sorreggere questo mondo infame che mi spinge sempre più in basso? Dimmi ancora quante volte devo cadere?” e allora sicuramente mi risponderebbe “Dio... non turba mai la gioia de' suoi figli, se non per prepararne loro una più certa e più grande” e poi se ne andrebbe, lasciandomi sola con questa frase e un po’ di speranza in più. Ma ad essere realisti Manzoni è morto quindi è abbastanza impossibili avere un dialogo con lui, l’unica cosa che rimane è immaginarlo. Il problema di questo però è che dopo aver sognato, la realtà diventa sempre più un incubo e tutta la giornata la passi aspettando il momento per poter immergerti nella tua realtà. Ora capisco quelli che si drogano.  Hanno solo bisogno di un po’ di felicità ed ognuno ha il proprio modo per cercarla e nonostante ogni volta faccia sempre più male riprendersi non fai altro che seguire quel dannato coniglietto ed entrare in quello specchio. Ripensandoci capisco solo adesso perché è stato scelto lo specchio: riflette te stesso, e quando vuoi scappare da tutti e tutto è con lui che vuoi rimanere, è lui che vuoi conoscere, è lui che vuoi far felice.

English: Positivism? What's this? How can you be positive with a world that collapses on you, alone, without someone to help you support it for a while longer, to help you build a roof, to make you feel at home. Tell me how to do it because I really have no idea. I see people around who don't even know what it means to have to fix a tile, people who have never seen water enter a hole caused by the storm, who have always been warm, there by the fireplace. Then I think about myself and the fact that when I'm cold, no one has ever lit the fireplace or even given me a blanket to warm me. And in these moments a huge and tormenting anger rises. What those people did to deserve a happy, simple life or even a little love in their daily lives. Because instead I have to go through all this, I have to see the world fall apart without mercy. If I talked to Manzoni he would probably appeal to provident misfortune to make me feel better, he would probably remind me of the story of Lucia and Renzo and that all their pains and hardships have come to happiness. But at that point I would ask him “then where is my happiness? How much longer do I have to endure? How long do I have to resist, alone, to support this infamous world that pushes me lower and lower? Tell me again how many times do I have to fall? "and then he would surely answer me" God ... never disturbs the joy of his children, if not to prepare them for a more certain and greater one "and then he would go away, leaving me alone with this phrase and a little hope more. But to be realistic Manzoni is dead so it is quite impossible to have a dialogue with him, the only thing left is to imagine him. The problem with this, however, is that after dreaming, reality becomes more and more a nightmare and all day waiting for the moment to be able to immerse yourself in your reality. Now I understand those who take drugs. They just need a little happiness and everyone has their own way to look for it and although every time it hurts more and more to recover, you do nothing but follow that damn bunny and go into that mirror. Thinking about it I only understand now why the mirror was chosen: it reflects yourself, and when you want to escape from everyone and everything is with him you want to stay, it's him you want to know, it's him you want to make happy there is.

#book #young writer #write #thoughts #citazioni #quotes

[honestsycrets]

No Thieves Welcome XX: Mads

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk comes to see the reader grieving the loss of his children, finding a surprise.

❛  warnings | deceit, heartbreak, grieving, loss, breakups.

❛ sy’s notes | if you’re still here, i’ll see you in my sequel What She Really Wants under NTW’s masterlist.

Far’s things are in a cardboard box you close up, smoothing clear tape over the lips. Most of the house is packaged for the move cities away. Today is graduation but as you told mother, you weren’t up to it. Something about having your father here just… a week or two ago, and now, he was gone didn’t sit well with you. The only thing you were grateful for was actually getting your diploma with the year you had. Your grades slipped from glorious A’s with sprinkled B’s to… dare you say it, Cs. Despite that, you think that your nearly perfect years will help you in college. 

When you take it, that is.

You pad out of your mother’s room and toward your own, looking around the empty hallway. Studs stick from the wall where pictures of a happy family were. The illusion is gone now. You’re only left with the sticky reminder of the tape that held your heart together.

 You’ve begun to pack your clothes into a giant box for the big move Monday. There’s still momentos all over the place. On your dresser, a framed image of Asta’s bright smile in galaxy painted lips. She isn’t smiling much from prison. Your father in Tivoli, holding you pridefully in his arms against a backsplash of bright lights and stringy plants. He’s not prideful anymore. He’s dead. As dead as a man could get cremated into a small tin of ashes that mother separated between the two of you. 

Keep him in your memory, she said.

Then there was the vanishing child. Your heart hadn’t the time to grieve. You stand by a full-length mirror, dragging your palm over your distended stomach. Hvitserk had not spoken to you since that day. He carried his head lower still when you passed by with Magnus. Good. It was better that way.

Just then, your phone chimes. You pick it up, tapping the app that alerts you when someone is at your front door. You tap ‘live,’ finding your ex-boyfriend is just there. His hands are in his pockets, rain downpouring. His fluffy black hoodie soaked, matted to his sloppy bun. You’re lucky your mother is always working. 

“I’m coming,” you say into your phone. 

Hvitserk turns his head up, nodding with a sway of his body. You go downstairs, holding the railing as you bound down the steps to the front door. Your hand hovers at the handle, composing yourself. You push open the handle and open the door. Hvitserk stands there, eyes rimmed by red as if he’d been crying. Your heart pangs. 

“Hi babe,” he says, a waft of alcohol punches your stomach. You stand aside, letting him step onto the welcome mat inside the home. It’s too cold to be standing outside. You clear your throat when he stops, looking down his sopping wet shorts. The rainwater dribbles over the welcoming mat.

“Think I have a change of clothes for you somewhere.” 

You slip up the stairs and into your bathroom, pulling the fresh emergency pair of clothes. You never asked much of Hvitserk when he came splattered with blood or with injuries that you couldn’t begin to make sense of. A good wife didn’t ask questions. That was what Aslaug always told you. 

“It’s just a t-shirt and some shorts,” you clear your throat. “They’re yours. I have your other clothes somewhe--” 

In a swift motion, Hvitserk pulls you in. His hands don’t wander toward your ass for a grab or cheek for a kiss. They tighten around your back, tugging you forward and into him. Hvitserk’s nose cradles in your hair, breathing in your newest perfume of peonies. A bottle your father meant to give you, with a graduation anklet from a luxury brand. As you learned, he also planned to give you a necklace with two charms when your twins were born. You couldn’t face opening that yet. 

“Hvitserk--” 

“You look good,” he pulls back, wiping wet tears on his wet hoodie. Your eyebrows push together when you nod, looking him over. His well-corded arms reflect that he’s been in the gym instead of the last week of school. Alcohol on his breath indicates that afternoons are spent at the bottle.

“You look… exhausted.” 

“Yeah uh--” Hvitserk looks down to his change of clothes. “Graveyard shift. Uncle Rollo’s taking off to France.” 

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” you remark awkwardly. Your kettle in the kitchen screeches, interrupting you from your words. “I’m gonna go get that. You can get changed.” 

You’ll need that Bubble Tea to deal with Hvitserk. You step off to the side toward your kitchen, fixing your drink of black tea once testing the heat of the water. Burnt bitter tea is gross tea after all. He’d know you were leaving. As you mix quick cooking boba balls, you have to know that he’ll know. Once he knows…

“You’re gonna leave?” Hvitserk’s voice cracks. 

To protect your son, you think. You briefly glance over your shoulder, taking him in. You recall that shirt fitting looser. Not… clinging, as much as it did. “Mor has some connections up in Aarhus to get me into school. And… she can’t really live here without seeing Far,” you drain your boba and begin to assemble it. There’s nothing as gratifying as spilling the cream into the cup. 

“(Y/N) I--” 

“It’s okay, Hvitserk. What happened… it wasn’t your fault. We lost them,” one, you think, one. “...and these things just happen sometimes. Plenty of women have miscarriages.” 

Except that wasn’t the whole picture. The whole picture-- the truth was, you were still pregnant with his child. He should have been a happy father waiting by your side. Mor was right, you tell yourself. Your little boy wouldn’t be safe with his father.

“I could have done somethin’. I even named my fuckin’ kids-- Mads… for the boy and I thought, ya know, you’d name her something stupid.” The side of his lips pull down into a tight whisper. You shift, turning around with a cool drink in your hands. You set a hand to his forearm, steadying his spiraling thoughts from self-deprecation. His eye falls down to your hand. You’re still wearing his ring.

“Listen to me,” you say, shaking his forearm for emphasis. “There is nothing you could have done. If not that day, another day. I was wrong when I blamed you, Hvitserk. Those were-- those were hateful words.” 

“Okay?” you emphasize. 

“Yeah… okay.” he says, though sounding unconvinced. You remove your placating hand from his arm and settle a tea in his hand. He looks down upon it otherwise unmoved. 

“You know I don’t like this shit. Gimme the headaches.” Hvitserk tips the tea up, his eyes flickering up toward you. He holds your look as you stand upright, hand upon your hips now. 

“It’s good for you.” 

“Not after that much shit you put in.” He laughs but drinks it anyway, wrinkles forming between his eyebrows when he manages to down it. 

“Oh, it’s not that bad. You’re full of shit.” 

“Yeah, you too.” Hvitserk pushes himself off the side of the counter, gathering his wet clothes. You supply him with a bag to take them home. He throws it over his shoulder, still smiling to himself. He wants to tell you to keep the ring. That you earned it. That… it was meant for you. But he’s afraid you’ll take it off. “Guess I better head the fuck out before your mother gets here. Bitch sent me some mean--” 

You lean forward, reprimanding yourself as you do so, and grasp his face between your hands. You tug him into your hard kiss, slanting your lips over Hvitserk’s own. His hold slackens on the bag, clattering over your pink painted toes. The coldness of the laundry causes them to shift into a lavender. Your tongue flicks and curls against his own-- and he loses his modest appearance, grabbing your ass and squeezing you tight. Your stomach hits his, and you watch the confusion over his face. 

“Surgery,” you explain just as mother told you to. “Do you... wanna stay the night?” 

Stay the night. He sucks in a breath, hopeful for what those words could mean. The storm raging outside and your hand drifting between the waistband of his shorts tell him that you indeed mean it as he hopes. Your voice strained as if the words trickle slowly through a sieve. “One last time?” 

“Yeah,” Hvitserk says. This half-formed plan to get you back a failure. He wouldn’t beg. But he would hope. He’d always hope you would make your way back to him. “That’d be great.” 

That winter the flurrying of the snow feels all the more pronounced. 

Maybe its the fact that you took that fall off of school. Mother said to enjoy your pregnancy-- what was left of it. But it felt... all the more lonely without someone to enjoy it with. 

Your mother tried, that was a fact, but she wasn’t Hvitserk. Not that you... needed him there. Mother was providing well. Come spring you would go back to school, take your courses in engineering, and get on with your life.

The cold of that December day was lost on you that night. Perhaps because the pains started the morning before-- early at three in the morning. They carried on. Past noon, past dinner time and into the wee hours before the next day. 

“And good-- one more,” your mother says, crouched by your bed which overlooks the large window. You push once again and there’s a cry-- a painless delivery despite the chaos of months earlier. The cries are loud, and you drop your head, exhausted from the pain stretching your womb the whole day. After the miracle of life, you were afraid to use pain treatment. 

“He looks like his father,” your mother announces, pulling the child free. You look up, gripping the necklace around your neck tight. You had a near death grip on it this whole time. 

“He does,” another voice comes from beside you. You glance up to Asta at the foot of the bed. Her charges had been dropped-- and thankful as you were, you knew Ragnar had something to do with it. She was here on return from studying abroad in America and you couldn’t be more thankful. Even if she had done time, she was here now. In a week or two, she’d return to Copenhagen. 

“Great, tell me he doesn’t have his eyes.” you whine, your mother’s work quickly done with the help of one of her trusted co-workers. More best friend at this point, then co-worker. After the afterbirth was delivered, and that incessant shoving on your womb was done, Asta came by your side. She closes the blinds shut, kneeling before you. 

“He does, oh god.” You laugh, bringing him into your arms. Near existant tufts of blond hair and the eyes in the same shape... you look over his forehead and slim lips, noting to yourself just how much of his father’s image he was. Even as a baby.

He’s going to be trouble.

“He’s so cute,” Asta whispers, knocking her forehead against the side of your head like an affectionate puppy. You relax into her, rubbing your thumb over his full and lightly rosy cheeks. “What are you going to call him?” 

“Mads,” you answer immediately. “Just like his father wanted.”

@igetcarriedawaywithyou, @kylobien, @titty-teetee, @breathlessouls, @nejijjeoroo, @bcat1291, @readsalot73, @mslothbrok, @captstefanbrandt, @ailucascen, @michaeliskindahot, @cbouvier23, @naaladareia, @cbouvier23, @the-geeky-engineer, @lisinfleur,  @tephi101, @akamaiden, @ethereallysimple, @venusloviing, @happylittlepuppydog, @beyond-the-ashes, @slutforrpg, @sparklemichele, @alicedopey, @lif3snotouttogetyou, @noregretsandyeteveryregret, @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol, @deathbyarabbit, @unacceptabletatertots, @beyond-the-ashes (no sig), @babypink224221, @ivarandersen, @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla, @moose-squirrel-asstiel, @end-of-night, @gruffle1, @lol-haha-joke @arses21434,  @smileyparrots, @miss-artemis-wild, @two-unbeatable-beaters, @wonderwoman292, @wish-i-was-a-mermaid, @killerb00sdeath, @heartbeats-wildly, @boo20017, @acacheofstrange, @shaelyn102,  @smokealone, @shaelyn102 @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071@daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44 @allvikingsfanfic @paintballkid711 @beyond-the-ashes @queenmissfit @x-valhalla @hissouthernprincess @tierneygonzalez @alicedopey @allvikingsfanfic @rekdreams-fandom @athroatfullofglass @supernaturalvikingwhore @laughinglikenialler @ilvebeenabad @mblaqgi @neeadinghugs @gruffle1 @p8tn0lish @lol-haha-joke @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @lovelynerdytraveler @winchesterwife27 @tephi101 @therealmrshale @vikingsmania @igetcarriedawaywithyou @the-geeky-engineer @whatamood13 @strangunddurm @peachesnpisces @ms-allenbrown @tempt-ress @isthat-tyra98 @unacceptabletatertots @deathbyarabbit

#Hvitserk x Reader #Hvitserk/Reader #hvitserk's heathen feast #hvitserk ragnarsson x reader #vikings imagines #vikings imagine #reader x hvitserk #hvitserk imagine #hvitserk imagines #vikings/reader #vikings x reader

[serpent-craft]

Secrets

 A ribbon of smoke wound its way through the holes of an antique Quel’dorei incense burner. Sandalwood and citrus cleansed the old house of its musty smell that lingered from years of neglect. A month in, and the process of refurbishing the Goldenheart estate was slowly coming together like pieces of a puzzle; riddled with memories of sordid and pleasant experiences coiled into one. Rhythmic music filled the small gaps of silence that the pair of Sin’dorei had between them as they continued to bring the house back to life . It wasn’t an artist that the two recognized, but the record player proved to be an interesting find at the festival in the Jade Forest.

Aendonys reclined into a pile of ornate pillows and blankets, more goods acquired from the markets to serve as a makeshift bed. He caught a few last rays of sun before it fell below the horizon, reflecting off the polished tiles on the balcony. It was a domestic deed he did himself, taking a cloth and solvent to the grime until the surfaces felt smooth to the touch. The demon hunter was quite proud of himself for this, and for that he decided to take a break while Micael finished unboxing the decorations and momentos.

“Hm...retiring early?” A golden light neared close, speaking in a baritone voice. The details of Micael’s face were visible in the demon hunter’s vision, like a sketch or a watercolor painting that grew in detail the more he focused. He was a broad shouldered, muscular framed Sin’dorei with soft androgynous facial features that suited him well. Even compared to Aendonys, Micael easily showed far more physical strength. “Well, I suppose you did a decent job.”

“I did a damn good job.” Aendonys quipped, running his claws over the pristine grout and tile. The paladin gave a throaty laugh, the light in his chest grew like a tiny sun.

“You did well above my expectations, Aendonys.”

The two exchanged prideful smirks, intertwining fingers as the hanging crystals projected dancing lights from the sunset. In the distance the spires of Silvermoon created a black backdrop against the purple and orange sky. It was a welcome sight as the world withdrew into an hour of peace. For however long it would last--one could not discern, but for this moment the defeat of an old god and the pause of war could serve as a brief respite. It was a good time for them to settle into a relaxed life, or at least make a nest to come back to when they were off on another adventure.

The paladin’s hand gently slipped away as Aendonys heard the clatter of Micael’s armor being slipped off the manikin. A subtle expression of concern was painted upon the demon hunter’s face, he reached over to remove the needle from the record.

“I’ll get my glaives.”

Micael cut him off before the other sat up. Placing a metal hand firmly upon Aendony’s shoulder. He was becoming accustomed to the prosthetic.

“I am just preparing for the night watch. I’d rather you stay here to keep the place guarded.” There was a sense of assurance in the tone of his voice, a stubborn self-reliance that Aendonys grew fond of in this man. He huffed in a mildly annoyed retort, sticking his tongue out far enough that the gold piercing glinted in the light.

“Suit yourself, Goldilocks.”

-------

The galloping hooves of holy knights took off into the night, clearing whatever undead still lurked in Tranquillien. To this day, the Ghostlands still remain a threat, but the undead have thinned out in numbers. The borders of Eversong grew as patches of verdant grass returned, and the wildlife no longer feared the remnants of the Dead Scar. Perhaps one day it would only serve as a memory and nothing more. The Goldenheart estate was a starting point, at least.

Aendonys drifted into a brief sleep--a couple hour nap that the night owl had before midnight. He had yet to light the sconces as the burning embers of incense glowed inside copper chambers. He wouldn’t need light to see anyways, but it was courteous to Micael for when he came home. They still had so much unbuilt furniture and decor strewn about the room like booby traps in the dark--and speaking of, Aendonys’ ears twitched at the sound of footsteps in the house. A hard clacking like that of an armored foot...was he back already? The demon hunter blinked sleepily, a pair of violet glowing eyes piercing the darkness.

“Micael? Is that yo-”

A hand clasped over the demon hunter’s mouth, claws digging into his skin as slender fingers wrapped around his neck. He failed to react in time as a paralysis took over his body.

“Hmm. just like old times, Aendy.” The sinister voice of a woman filled his mind. It was harrowingly familiar. He saw her silhouette clear as day, the curvaceous demoness with her upright horns and outstretched wings that seemingly dripped with shadow magic.

“I’d bite you if you weren’t into that, Bryketh.” He snapped a muffled reply. The succubus removed the hand over his mouth to dig her stiletto claws into Aendony’s shoulder as she straddled him.

“Oh, we know each other so...so well.” She hummed. “It’s sad to see you so...hm--domesticated. That’s what paladin’s do after all, they take our gifts from the void and stomp on them with their big, obnoxiously shiny boots.”

Aendonys sneered, struggling against her magic to reach for the dagger he buried into his pillow. The hilt brushed against his fingertips.

“Heh…maybe I’m into that. Not like you’d know since you're a heartless bitch.” He paid the price for that quip, feeling her claws dig through his demonic skin. Blood was certainly being drawn, but her spell was slipping.

“Did you tell him what you did to me, Aendonys? How you made me love you for your own gain?” She whispered in an aggressive trill. “Does he know what kind of treachery you are capable of--my dearest demon-hearted bastard?”

He reached for the blade, he fingers wrapped around the hilt. He waited for Bryketh to slip up enough that he would slit her throat--but suddenly he felt a pressure on his hand. The succubus disappeared in a plume of smoke as Aendony’s eyes snapped open with a burst of violet flames.

“It’s just me.” The voice was similar to Micael’s but in a monotone drone. Aendonys saw a man with outstretched feathered wings and long stark white hair. His foot was over the dagger that he reached for. Red curtains ominously flowed over the open balcony that he entered through as a cool breeze entered the room.

“Gabe?” The leaves outside rustled as the twin brother’s wing’s disintegrated from sight revealing the full moon behind him. He could feel the gaze of the other’s spectral sight piercing him. Gabriel was best described as an icy dagger compared to Micael’s warmth. 

“I wanted to see if it was true. That you and my brother are going to live here now.”

Aendonys was quiet for a moment. He still hadn’t recovered from that nightmare, but this was certainly reality now. He ran a hand across his shoulder as if expecting to feel blood there, but it was dry.

“Yeah. We’re going to at least try.”

It wasn’t uncommon for a moment of silence to linger between them. Aendonys knew Gabriel far longer than he had known Micael. They both witnessed each other’s sacrifices and betrayals as Illidari, in a way he always saw him as a brother like Asmodan. A cold and distant--soon to be step-brother--who cared far more than he ever wanted anyone to see. Even his spectral vision worked differently than others. He would see the emotions Aendonys was feeling like they were painted on his face in clear view. The discomfort and fear he always masked.

“He proposed the idea, didn’t he?” Gabriel spoke.

Aendonys smiled a bit more genuinely than he usually did. “He did. It’s because we are getting marr--”

“I know.”

Gabriel strode over to the closest sconce on the wall and lit it, illuminating the two in a arcand light. He sensed where each one was by memory. This was once his home too.

“Goldilocks can’t keep his mouth shut, huh?” Aendonys kicked the covers off and rolled onto a cross-legged sit. He chuckled a bit at that before his smile faded, watching the white-haired man select and open a book from a nearby shelf. It wasn’t as if he could read it but the texture of the pages was pleasing, perhaps. This suddenly didn’t feel right. “So...which one of these rooms was yours?”

The white haired illidari pointed to the ground where Aendonys was sleeping.

“This one.”

Aendonys pursed his lips awkwardly. Straightening up a pillow like it didn’t even belong to him now. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was acting like this. “Oh, I see. Well it’s now your guest room for whenever you stay here. Unless you wanna move in with us.”

“I don’t.” He replied in an eerily calm manner. Shutting the book he inspected.

Aendonys sighed and adjusted his posture having nothing to say to that. He might have understood why Micael didn’t speak with his brother about this, but it wasn’t done so out of ill will.

Gabriel wandered into the other rooms for a moment, reminiscing quietly as he somberly lit the hallway for Micael’s return. Aendonys quietly followed after as if expecting the brother to speak about his past here like Micael did. He did not.

“Have you told him about Bryketh?” Gabriel suddenly questioned. Aendonys slapped a hand over his face in a disgruntled display.

“For fels sake, Gabe. Not you too.”

The white haired Sin’dorei suddenly snapped his gaze towards the other interrogatively.

Aendony’s waved his hands dismissively with a sigh. “--nevermind that. No. I have not. Why should I? I wouldn’t ever treat Mike like that anyways so it doesn’t matter. I know I’ve done some people dirty in the past to survive, but I’m especially not going to sit in a confessional booth over betraying a demon.”

Gabriel turned himself to face Aendonys. His bangs fell over the wraps that covered his eyes but a dim white glow shone through. “I told him my secret. Now you tell Micael yours. It doesn’t matter that you wouldn’t do the same to him. He should still know for your sake.”

Aendonys scratched at the stubble that began to grow in on the sides of his scalp. He would ask Micael to shave it for him soon, maybe that would be a good time to talk about his both figurative and literal demon. It wouldn’t be like his fiance would turn the blade on him in that moment...or at least he hoped not. Gabriel did have a point however, keeping this from Micael would only give whatever was left of Bryketh ammunition to torment him. It took him a while to fully admit that, but somehow Gabriel’s bluntness was something he needed at this moment.

“Alright. Bet.” He replied. “...but also I wanted to say that we didn't a day for the ceremony yet. When we do though, you should come. Micael really wants to see more of you, ya know?”

Another moment of silence lingered between them. Gabriel didn’t answer that as the sound of hooves thundered close. He instead walked back to the balcony and rematerialized feathers. The moment another cool breeze passed by, the estranged brother beat his wings. Ribbons of smoke danced and the parchment rattled as he took off like a shadow in the night. Aendonys didn’t even bother to offer a farewell, he knew Gabriel well enough.

The front door opened as Aendonys spied Micael’s golden light. The paladin’s helm gently clinked onto the floor as he sauntered in; the image of pomp and glory himself had arrived with his job done.

“Oho, you’re certainly feeling better lately.” The demon hunter leaned against the hallway with a sultry grin.

“.--and you’re awake early for your late evening nap. A shame...I wanted to surprise you.” Micael passed by Aendonys, swiping his armored fingertips across his chest. He hung his sword upon the wall.

“Yeah, well maybe I couldn’t wait for you to get back?” Aendonys followed after as the paladin unfastened his armor piece by piece.

“Hoh? Do you care about me that much? How endearing.” For a man who wielded holy power Miceal sported a devilish grin. The other Sin’dorei took a seat next to him, he couldn’t witness his partner undressing with his lack of eyesight but he could hear the armor falling unceremoniously to the floor. The spring air brought another brisk breeze through the room as Aendonys ruminated on the dream and Gabriel showing up. He could sense Miceal’s attention being drawn to the corner of the room with the bookshelf. The curtains swaying as they did earlier.

“Aendonys, one of the books is gone from the shelf. The one Gabriel always liked to read.”

The demon hunter turned towards the paladin, he took in a deep breath.

“Micael. I have something to tell you.”

#my writing #aendonys #micael #gabirel #bryketh

[lokis-lady-death]

Bake-tastic Two

Tom Hiddleston x Reader (LEMONy fresh, if you catch what I am pitching ;D)

Lady Death: I tagged anyone I thought might be interested! Just a simple two part story about a girl meeting a man and baking some cupcakes.  I did this by request for a super awesome mutual’s birthday! @kcd15​ I hope you enjoy it, I’m so sorry it’s late but you get two parts for being so patient <3 Hope you enjoy!

Bake-tastic (Part One Link)

Step Two: Raise the Temperature

The lights were blinding against an all white background while beepers from a few wall mounted ovens began to cry out. Looking over the counters, you saw mounting piles of raw dough, several double boilers ready for the stove and a conglomerate of random ingredients.

“Ms. Y/n?” You whipped your eyes over to the corner of the room where the chef stood with a fresh rack of delicious smelling puffed up pastries.

You were like a deer in headlights, soaking up every ounce of him in the fluorescent light. Even at a distance you could see he was tall, magnificently so, with long strong arms and a lean torso. His hair was a mess of curls, a tad longer than on his Facebook with a touch of facial hair, but those blue eyes were just as enchanting as the image you stared at earlier. He reached up to wipe away a smidgen of batter from his cheek, flashing you a smile as he closed the distance between you, the other hand extended out.

"Ms. Y/n, it's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Tom."

Your lips fluttered but nothing came out as you took his hand in yours, your fingers practically disappearing in his grip. That gorgeous face had stricken you dumb, taking every tangible word out of your head that could have possibly been uttered, leaving you speechless.

His smile didn't leave him when he chuckled, “Are you here to bake or have a staring contest, Ms. Y/n?”

"Oh, yeah, uh, right, sorry, Chef… I’m just a little nervous."

"That’s alright, I completely understand. But I assure you, there’s nothing to be nervous about! Now, we have a lot of work to do, so go ahead and slip on an apron."

Stumbling over yourself before finally finding one by the main kitchen door, you threw it over your head before fighting with the tie as you tried to quiet your nerves.

"Good, now wash your hands and you can come help me with the croissants," he instructed while he sat out several hot baking sheets of cookies from the ovens.

"Yes, Chef," you answered, feeling his eyes follow as you looked one way and then another to find the sink. He hid a small laugh behind his hand rather than tell you where to go, watching as you triumphantly danced over to the sink a few feet away.

After you dried your hands, you went before him, trying to keep yourself calm. It was barely noticeable, but his eyes cut away from you as he cleared his throat, trying to keep his own nerves in check. "Alright, firstly you don't have to call me Chef. Tom is fine."

Sucking in on your teeth, you retaliated, "Okay, but if I can't call you Chef, then you have to call me y/n. No Ms."

He gave a court nod, agreeing, "Deal. Now, let's start with some basics." You watched intently as Tom went over where things were in the kitchen, a lesson that would have been nice when you were craning your neck in every direction looking for an apron or sink. After he showed you the last drawer filled with mismatched measuring cups, he escorted you towards the table of dough.

You watched him meticulously roll up his sleeves as you listened, "We can start on these croissants, I've had these sitting out for several minutes so it should be ready." He glanced up to catch your eyes, making you freeze. "Have you ever made croissants before?"

"Well, no, not from scratch," you admitted a bit shameful. Bread of any kind was not a particular specialty of yours and it was embarrassing to say the least.

But Tom didn't look concerned in the least, going on, "Yes, it's not a very popular in most kitchens since Pillsbury has practically perfected it." You couldn't hold back the soft snort that escaped as he turned towards the table. "Well, it looks fluffy enough to work with, so why don't we give it a try?" He shot you a smile that you reflected back.

"Yeah, sounds good!"

He separated out a few portions before handing you your own pile to knead. "Now, watch carefully," he instructed, sprinkling a small cup of flour onto the table in front of him. "The key is to get the dough pliable. You don't want it sticky but you also can't over do it or the pastries will come out dry." He rolled it out into a flattened heap before sprinkling a touch more flour, flipped it over to fold in half and began digging his knuckles into it. He folded and pounded two more times before stepping back. "Go ahead, work yours out."         

Taking a deep breath, you faced the table and squared your shoulders. You sprinkled some flour out across the counter before spreading out your dough with the rolling pin as you had seen Tom do. Adding a touch more flour, you folded it and then paused, remembering what your sister said.

'Flirt.'

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lightly pressed your fists into the dough. Without turning, your eyes found his as you asked, "Like this?"

At first his brow furrowed, as if his obvious rebuttal would be no, but instead he saw an opportunity. There was a small smirk etching across his face, as he moved closer behind you. "Actually, it's more like-" he wrapped his arms around you, slowly lacing his fingers with yours as he urged you to dig into the dough a bit harder. He tried his damndest to sound professional as he explained, "You, you just need to be a tad-” he pressed your hands deeper into the dough, his  lips close to your ears as he finished, “-rougher." His body had you ever so slightly pinned against the counter while both of your hands moved in synchrony. He motioned for you both to roll and knead the dough a few more times than was necessary before finally stopping.

Yet even as it was done he didn't retreat quickly while you stood silent with your heart beating so loudly you were afraid he could hear it. Afraid to move, you wanted him to do something, though you weren’t sure what.

Once he cleared his throat, Tom stepped back with, "A-alright, I think you've gotten the hang of it. I’m going to let you do this next one and I'll do these other two then we'll move on to the next step."

The two of you repeated the process silently for a couple of minutes before he reached to a counter behind you, his arm brushing your shoulder and making you inhale sharply.

'Keep it together,' you begged yourself.

He set out a few sticks of butter, handing you two. "We're going to flatten these sticks and roll them into the dough."

You watched, star eyed as he laid out wax paper over and under the butter before using the rolling pin to flatten it down. He nodded towards the other sticks, instructing, "Now you do yours just like this and then," he lifted it up and added it to his fixed dough and folded it over, "Finish up like this," he folded one more time before wrapping in cling wrap. "Easy enough?"

You nodded courtly, getting to work on repeating exactly what he did. In the time it took you to manage your own pile of dough, he finished off the two other mounds, rolling out and folding, finally flattening butter and adding it. The two of you wrapped the dough up in cling wrap and put all four pieces into the fridge to chill.

“Alright,” he announced, picking up a timer and setting it to forty-five minutes. “Once this sounds, we will finish these. Now, let’s get to the cupcakes.”

Feeling confident enough to keep pace with him, the two of you set up a few mixers and gathered the flour, sugar and butter.

You watched him to ensure you were measuring out ingredients to his taste, respecting that this was his bakery and his recipes. Every once in a while he offered verbal guidance, but otherwise, he let you be. By the time you were both done with the batter, it all added up to 12 cupcake trays filled with vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry batter.

Tom was loading the last of the trays into the oven when you happened to catch sight of his midriff.

And at the very top of his jeans, barely visible, you could make out black ink.

You couldn't control the internal shrieking as you audibly gasped. At the slam of the oven doors, Tom twirled around to face you just as you slapped a hand over your face. Your cheeks swelled when you pointed at him and tried to choke down your laughter.

You couldn't control it anymore as you blurted out, "You have a tramp stamp?!"

"Oh, oh, that, you see, its, its, er," he stuttered, flustering all the more as he tried to explain.

You covered your face to try and quiet your laughing. "I'm sorry," you apologized, "I didn't mean to, your shirt, it was just there…"

Tom ran a hand down his face, smiling awkwardly as he let out an uneasy laugh. "Yes, I'm afraid it's true. It’s an unfortunate momento from my college days back in the UK, me and a few of my rugby mates lost a bet and had to get matching tattoos on our, er, lower backs."

His cheeks were as the color of the strawberry batter and it just made you swoon more. "See, that explanation makes it not so bad," you tried to soothe. Tilting your head to the side and cutting your eyes up at him, you couldn't stop your curiosity. "Can I see it?"

At that, his face went redder. "Oh, um..." You could see the hesitation and for a moment you wondered if you had overstepped. That is, until his hands went down to undo his belt, making your heart speed up. "I'll let you see, but not a word to anyone."

Your hand went up as you swore like you were before a judge, "Not a word."

He closed his eyes, took in a deep breath to mentally prepare himself, then turned as he lowered his jeans just a tad. Biting down on your lips, you took it all in.

The detail was actually pretty in your opinion, the intricate line curling around itself like cursive that spelled out no real words. But the cremedelacreme was the central, half dollar sized blue butterfly in the middle.

He yanked his jeans up and turned back, but not quite quick enough to hide the white boxers he wore beneath them peeking out behind his zipper. Tom’s face was still ablaze as he flashed you a small grin, affirming,  “Alright, that’s enough of that.”

Still covering your mouth to hide your obvious amusement, you nodded.

You nearly jumped when the timer for the croissants went off, but Tom looked relieved to have the distraction.

“Alright, let's get these rolled up,” he announced, pulling out the bundles and setting them back on the counter. You let out a breath and shrugged your shoulders, ready to start.

The rest of your night was spent at Tom’s side, taking in his process while doing your best to keep pace. In all honesty, you had never done this much in any kitchen back home. While you worked at bakeries in your small town, there was nowhere near the amount of production you were doing here. To imagine he did all of this work alone every night was daunting to say the least, even after months of selling thousands of his pastries to the hungry people of L.A.

It was midnight before the two of you were finishing up icing the last of the custom order cakes to be picked up the next morning. When the white base layer was done, Tom stepped back and handed you a red icing bag.

“Alright, y/n, let’s see that piping technique,” he spoke with a smile.

Looking at the bag and then back at him, you couldn’t help but ask, “Are you sure? I mean, this is a custom order…”

“I’ve watched you all night,” Tom argued with a reassuring smile as he took your hand in his. “I’m more than confident you can handle a few icing flowers.” He placed the bag in your grip and then spread opened the order sheet. “Go on now, just see what they asked for and expand on it. That’s the fun part of the bakery, isn’t it? Getting to create something?”

You swallowed, looking back down at the cake in hopes he didn’t see the small panic written all over your face. In truth you loved decorating cakes the most but knowing this was something a customer ordered was a bit much to take in.

Biting down on your lip, calming your nerves, you leaned down to be eye level with the cake. Holding your piping bag as steady as you could, with a slight of hand and a swivel of the cakes turntable, you got to work.

Tom stood back, watching you with a smirk on his face as you concentrated hard on your work. With your attention off of him, he pulled out his phone to see several texts from Chris.

~How's it going?

I'm taking your silence as good??

You better not be acting weird!

She knows your name now, right???~

Tom sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose until the phone lightly vibrated in his hand. He glanced down at the newest message from his friend.

~IT SAYS READ, I KNOW YOU SEE MY MESSAGES

TELL ME HOW IT’S GOING

ARE YOU GOING TO NAME YOUR CHILDREN AFTER ME?~

You glanced over your shoulder when you heard Tom let out a scoff, which transformed into him clearing his throat when your eyes locked together. “I, I got a message, from a friend, sorry, that wasn’t in regards to you.”

Turning back, you went on setting up your flowers while Tom quietly cursed Chris under his breath.

~Yes, I see your messages, it’s going fine, the silence is because I am not going to check my phone while we’re working, and no, I’m not “acting weird”~

He hit send with an extra humph on the keyboard. Before he could put the phone away, he got another buzz.

~You said working, you’re not working, this is a preliminary date.

Do you like her?

Does she like you?

Is she everything you ever dreamed while you eavesdropped on her?

Have you flirted? Tell me you flirted. You’re supposed to be flirting.~

Tom tensed at the verbiage, but was genuinely impressed by the speed of Chris's texting.

~Putting phone up now. Goodbye.~

And turned it off.

Shrugging his shoulders, Tom leaned forward to look over you at the work you had done. In the few minutes he distracted himself with Chris’s nonsense, he was taken aback at the amount of detail you you were able to put into the petals of the roses you had formed in a circle around the base and the top of the cake. In perfect, unique form, the flowers began to blossom, starting off as tiny buds around the bottom before becoming one large rose on top in the center.

You looked back to see his face, unsure how to read the blank stare and opened mouth reaction.

“Is it alright?”

It took another second before he closed his mouth and shook his head in disbelief. “That’s absolutely gorgeous, y/n. Did you do a lot of floral work at the last bakery you worked at?”

You couldn’t hide your pleasure at the complement, your smile widening as you let out a nervous laugh. “Um, well, I mostly did plain cakes, nothing like what you do. I mean, you work is like, like art. Where I used to work was pretty straight forward, by the book. I couldn’t really do anything like this.”

Tom nodded, looking back down at the cake. “Well, I’m certainly glad I got to see your first masterpiece,” he offered with a wide grin. He took up the icing bag, leaning closer to the cake, “But there is one place that needs a little touch up. Do you see?”

You leaned in to see where you missed. “I don’t-”

“Just get a bit closer,” he asked, pointing the tip of the nozzle. “Right there.”

You leaned in further, certain he was wrong but not wanting to be disagreeable. Just as you were close enough and distracted by trying to find your error, Tom reached up with the bag and made a streak from your nose back towards your ear.

“Ah, see, there, I got it!”

Your face pulled back in reflex, still staring into those bright blue green orbs, stunned into silence by what just happened.

When you did absolutely nothing, Tom's brow raised and, in an attempt to push things along, he elegantly raised the bag again but this time he offered it to you.

Glancing down, you took the bag and felt a laugh rattle inside while outside you remained blank as you looked back towards his face. Raising the bag, you drew two sets of whiskers on either side of his cheeks.

"I feel like you've made me a cat?" he guessed with a smirk. Turning to the side to strike a prolific pose, he asked, "Do I make a good cat? Am I… meow-tastic?"

There was no stopping the flood of giggles that erupted out of you now, unable to contain it. Your eyes closed as you hinged over, cackling as you tried to hold back tears.

Tom started laughing as well, taking a dampened towel off the counter to wipe his face, though some remnants of the icing was left in the short scruff on his chin. He handed it off and you wiped away what was on your cheek.

Your eyes were on each other, smiling, laughing. There was something about the way his gaze rolled over you. The quickened rise and fall of his chest, for some reason, made you crave touching him. You reached up with the rag and lightly brushed over the bit of icing left on his face, stopping when your thumb caressed over his thin facial hair. You knew he hadn't expected that by the widening of his eyes and sharp inhale, and truthfully you hadn’t expected it either.

"Ah, ha, you, uh. You missed a spot," you spoke with a weak laugh as you brought your hand back.

Tom took an unexpected step towards you, closing the already narrow distance. Without meaning to, you leaned backwards into the counter, bracing yourself without looking away from him.

You were both so close, faces mere inches apart. His lips parted and the fleeting thought that he may kiss you left as he cleared his throat and looked past your shoulder at the cake.

“Let me, er um, get this put away and then we, uh, can get started closing up shop.” Your chest fluttered, but you managed to keep smiling at him while he set the cake into its box and walked over towards the freezer.

While washing your hands the sound of music began to steadily build from somewhere in the kitchen. Turning around, you saw Tom playing on his phone.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologized, “I usually play something while I clean up. Is that alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” you shot, turning back towards the sink to run hot water as he set a playlist and put his phone down.

Just as he started grabbing the bowls from the cluttered counter, Enrique’s Tonight started filling the air. You turned towards Tom to take the dishes, feeling his fingers brush yours before you swirled back to the water. He went to collect more dishes as you lowered your arms down into the sink filled with water and bubbles. The music kept up, making your hips rock a little to the beat while you managed to take your mind off the beatiful british baker washing dishes at your side. The two of you had a , swaying slightly to the different songs playing over the speaker.

He had just dried his hands when your phone began to go wild in your dress pocket beneath your apron. Your own hands were still soaking wet. You stepped back from the sink in obvious distress as your phone’s ring just became louder and louder.

“Oh, do you...” Tom started while waving his hand.

“Would you mind?” You turned your hip towards him. “Right pocket of my dress,” you instructed.

He moved the apron to the side and reached inside, his hand inadvertently sliding down your side to your hips before circling around to your waist and then finally moving down into the slot. It handed dawned on you how thing the material was until you felt the goosebumps his touch created down your skin. Even as quick as the motion was, it was enough to leave you flustered.

Tom swiped the green light on your screen, oblivious, and pressed the phone against your burning face before you had a chance to realize it was Steph calling. You glanced up into his gaze, unable to look away even as your sister’s voice came over the phone into your ear.

“HELLO?”

“Yes, hey, sorry, what did you say?”

“Oh, I was just checking to make sure you’re not DEAD since you don’t answer texts? It’s almost two in the morning???”

You closed your eyes, realizing how late it was and how you hadn’t bothered to check your phone a single time since you got there. Letting out a sigh, you told her, “I’m sorry, I’m fine. Promise. It, it’s going good.”

Tom smiled at that, and you reflected it, feeling that flutter in your chest again.

“Aight, that’s good,” she went on, “So you're about to come home, right?"

You broke your gaze, realizing you were done with the dishes and Tom had cleared up everything on the counter, even wiped down the stainless steel tops.

There was nothing left to do, so all you could reason was," Yeah, I'm helping Tom close up now."

At the sound of his name, Steph squealed, "Well, have fun with your hot british boss, Kay BYYYYYYYYEEEEEEE!”

The line disconnected but not before your face felt like it would burst into flames, knowing Tom was close enough to hear your sister’s brash comment.

A fact that was confirmed when he blushed as well and dropped his eyes, unable to hold back his snort. “Hot British Boss, hm? I thought surely she would dubb me the Loud British Neighbor for all of the complaints she's filed on me.”

Your jaw dropped, realizing he knew. "When did you figure out...?" you asked, not needing to specify.

Tom let out a shaky laugh, admitting, "I've known since Chris scheduled you to help me. You realize your address is on the job application?"

At that your brow furrowed. "Why did you pull my application?"

"Because I wanted to see if you could possibly take an apprenticeship here and reviewing your application seemed like the obvious first step a boss would make?"

Your eyes widened at the idea, never once expecting that you were basically interviewing for a job opportunity of a lifetime. "Apprenticeship?"

"It just seemed like we might be a good fit," was his answer as he beamed down at you.

All you could do was shrug with an innocent smile. “I don’t know what to say. Thank you?”

He was laughing when he locked your phone, the song on his own switching over to the familiar pop sounding beat of Shakira’s Hips Don’t Lie. He lowered to put it back into your pocket in a much more straightforward movement than when he pulled it out since he wasn’t in as much of a hurry. Yet when he started to retract his hand, you slightly moved your hips against his fingers.

Tom hesitated.

Your eyes found one another again, though now neither of you laughing, both of your chests tightening while your hearts pounded harder and harder. His eyes scanned down towards where his hand was and you noticed his tongue sweep out across his lips. “I, um.” He didn’t go on, but he also didn’t pull his hand back, stuck in place while his brain tried to make sense of the situation.

Taking the initiative, you acted without a second thought.

Raising yourself onto your tiptoes, you took him by surprise when your lips lightly pressed against his. There was a rush surging through your body, even as you pulled back in that split second of doubt, unsure your advances were reciprocated.

But when his hands came around to take hold of your hips, electricity passed from his fingertips down into your very bones. His lips came to yours while his hands moved up your dress, digging through the thin fabric into you. Your body slinked to his touch as you brought your arms around his shoulders, kissing him harder when you felt him pull you closer.

Tom’s hands slithered towards your ass and, feeling him take hold, you were lifted up into the air and swung around where until your bottom landed on the cleared counter.

A chill ran up your body as your faces parted, both of you becoming fully aware of what was about to transpire.

Tom looked into your eyes as you took fast, deep breaths.

No one spoke, there was only the sound of Shakira's voice and your pants.

Glancing down, you inhaled harder when your fingers happened upon the buckle of his belt.

The two of you locked eyes again, holding onto the moment, waiting for some sort of sign from the other to keep going.

Lightheaded from the rush coursing through your veins, you wrapped your fingers around the thick leather binding of his jeans and gave a single sharp tug, unhitching its buckle.

It was all the consent he needed, his mouth coming back down to yours while letting you finish undoing his pants. His long, dexterous fingers gingerly lifted the hem of your skirt, then wrapped around the lace of your underwear. Your lips parted with an incidental moan as you slid his jeans and underwear down over his ass, making sure to drag your nails across his bottom. His reaction was apparent with his stiff, now free member standing erect between you both, only separated now by your panties.  With a small motion of his hips, Tom slid down your cotton encased lips, sending another shiver down your spine.

Meanwhile, his hands were grabbing hold of your panties and sliding them over your curves. You wiggled yourself against him to help hurry them off, feeling your breath leave your lungs when you were left bare bottomed on the cold metal counter.

Tom reached up to your face, sliding one hand along your jaw back towards your hair, while the other traced along your outer thigh. He moved himself into position at your entrance.

Unable to control himself anymore, Tom’s grip on your hair tightened just as he entered you. A long moan escaped your lips at the sensation, like a bubble of angst bursting at the intrusion, a delicious blend of want and desire spilling out as you reached your first climax almost immediately. You spread your thighs for Tom, granting him more access as your body started grinding to into his. He repaid the motion by pulling out and then swiftly pushing deeper upon reentry. You dug into him, one hand back under the button-up he wore, the other still firmly holding his ass to keep you balanced as he held you in place. Biting down on your lip, you tried to quiet down as he started building a rhythm, pumping in and out at increasing speed. His cock entered at such an angle that it repeatedly rubbed that sweet spot that curled your toes, making you rock against him. It kept going, the speed and motion steady as you both edged closer and closer to finishing. With his fingers still tangled in your hair, Tom turned your face towards him to kiss you again just as a deep throated moan rattled between your mouths. You couldn't help but sink your nails into him, tightening your hold as he slowed to move out of you just before thrusting as deep as your body allowed. Your hips remained still against the punishment by his grip, aching for him with every withdrawal, keeping steady so that he could get as deep as possible. In one final connection of your hips, Tom stopped once he was as deep as he could get, making your back arch into him as you climaxed again, crying out as your body tensed and relaxed in his arms.

Wrapped up in your own ecstasy, you hardly noticed him retreat from you to finish into a rag he discarded. You buried your face into his chest, taking in the light scent of lavender laundry detergent and cake batter mixed into his shirt. Tom heaved deep breaths while standing in place, his arms still wrapped around you, though now more tender. The light sweat on his brow glistened in the fluorescent light when you glanced up at him through your lashes.

The baker looked like he would say something but just then your pocket began to ring again. Tom stepped back so you could reach into your dress and answer the phone, taking only a second to collect yourself. "Yes?" you asked, unable to tear your eyes away from Tom as he zipped, straightened, tugged and fastened his jeans, only to let his ruffled button up hang over the top.

"Hi, yeah, just your sister again, making sure you're not DEAD. AGAIN."

You sighed at the sound of Steph's voice, but to your surprise, Tom chimed in as he adjusted his rolled sleeves, "If that's your sister, ask her if she minds waiting just a bit longer. That way, I can go ahead and lock up and, um-" his smile widened, "-I can walk you back to your apartment. You know, make sure you make it back safely."

"Is that him I hear in the background?" Steph's voice exclaimed. “He’s almost bearable to my ears when I know how hot he is!”

"Uh, yes, he's going to walk me back. Just gonna lock up then head that way."

"He's going to walk you home?!"

"Kay, love you, see you in a minute, please stop calling me, byyyeee," you spat out before hanging up and turning your phone off. Tom's eyes lit up as he kneeled in front of you to pick up your panties. He stayed down, still looking up while he held them out for you to slip on. "Oh, a gentleman, I see," you cooed, placing your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as you set one foot after another into the lace, feeling a tingle surge up from your feet while he raised them up past your thighs. You flipped put your skirt and inhaled sharply just before he planted a soft peck on your lips.

Walking back out into the shop, you took your purse from under the cash register while he shut down all the lights. When he came out to the front he flashed you a wide smile as he held open the door. "After you."

You stood on the sidewalk, watching him carefully set up the security system before stepping outside to lock the door with a key. He held out his arm towards you as he asked, "Shall we?"

Smiling up into his eyes, you looped arms with him and walked side by side down the awakening city street of L.A. All the other shops were beginning to spark to life and you knew soon Bake-tastic would also be opening up. The sun began to rise on the city of dreams while you and Tom made your way down the sidewalk, arms linked, ready for the end of a more an blissful night.

Like my garbage? Read more of it! Master List

All Tags:  @socialheartbreak @kcd15 @maladaptive-ninja-returns@nephalem67 @jessiejunebug @woodyandbuzz20-01@lokislilslut@bambamwolf87 @kitsuneharo12 @yzssie @j-u-s-t-4@lokilvrr@lokixme @macbetheliza @lou-makes-me-strong@wolfsmom1@noplacelikehome77@unicorniorosacomefrutillas @justiceiswater

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x reader

[thesinglesjukebox]

HAIM - SUMMER GIRL

[7.92]

We think it’s fly when these girls stop by for the summer...

Nellie Gayle: I'm not exactly the least biased observer when it comes to Haim's music. I owe a good portion of my close friendships and my longterm relationship to the Twitter fandom they cultivated around the time of their first release, when I was a tiny baby in college. But, still, I think my respect and affection for them doesn't disqualify me from having a valuable opinion on them. In this case, I can especially appreciate "Summer Girl" as the rare Haim song celebrating longevity and long distance in all of its pangs and nuanced happy moments. Written for Danielle Haim's partner during a serious illness, Summer Girl is a painfully sweet momento of that moment when we realize exactly what we are to other people and walk toward that version of ourselves. There's an easy breezy quality to the song that's underpinned by the fear and trauma that can visit a relationship. To be a summer girl, here, is less about wilding out for yourself in global warming record highs (still an admirable pastime), and more about how we can find strength by viewing our own selves -- malleable, fragile, messy -- as the strength and release someone else needs. This shift in perspective creates love for both ourselves, and the vessels of care and affection in our lives *collective 'awwwww'* [10]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Lou Reed knew how to make these sparse, simple songs that felt content with life despite knowing its many shortcomings. "Summer Girl" feels imbued with that same gritty hope, not least because its "Walk on the Wild Side" influence is patently obvious. The backstory of this song -- that it was written for Danielle Haim's partner Ariel Rechtshaid after he was diagnosed with testicular cancer -- makes this feel all the more heartfelt. But really, it's there in the music itself. This is the sort of song that feels like the product of a jam session between friends, where repetition and marginal changes in dynamics are a reflection of lazy summer days and a desire to just do something with the people you care about. Danielle Haim grounds the song with her vocals, but it's the music -- ever-loping and easy-going -- that signals the message here that everything will be all right. I'm reminded of Pavement's "Gold Soundz," specifically the notion of a mutual emptiness. What Malkmus spoke of was a romanticized ennui, but any emptiness I sense here is of a different sort: a willingness to empty oneself completely, to be filled with nothing but the love of another. [7]

Katie Gill: Thankfully, the four minute long showcase for a saxophone riff features a REALLY GOOD saxophone riff. [6]

Michael Hong: Haim may have described "Summer Girl" as an attempt to emulate "Walk on the Wild Side" by Lou Reed, but its aesthetics also seemed to be partially informed by Danielle's recent stints across Vampire Weekend's Father of the Bride, especially, the jazzy-vibes of "Sunflower" and "Flower Moon." And similar to Vampire Weekend, Haim have a strength for distilling decades of influences to make their music sound simply like the present. On the surface, "Summer Girl" sounds exactly like a summer breeze, but it's deceptively chill. The burden of forced positivity leads to a sadness and the feeling that the group is holding back that creep into the track's breezy atmosphere. That sadness and restraint should be worrying; however, Danielle's reassuring vocals flip any anxiety into peace, and everything else disappears in the meditative way she repeats the line "I'm your summer girl." [7]

Ashley Bardhan: I love how soft Danielle's vocals are and how the saxophone peeks out from behind it, like the twinkling of an ice cream truck on a sticky July night. I feel the heavy summer breeze passing when she says "You walk beside me, not behind me/Feel my unconditional love." It's a whispered command breaking into love and heat, opening the grey clouds to see the "angels coming now." As the song ends, amidst steely drums and saxophone swelling, you reached the beach in your favorite town. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: Songs about summer love take place at the beach, on bright sunny days, end at parties; they are flirtatious, playful, even dangerous; they sound like the rush of falling in love at an irresponsible pace, but being too young and dumb to give a care about the eventual season's change. To be sure, these songs are great, but "Summer Girl" is so arresting and gorgeous precisely because of its subversion of this formula. It begins after the thrill of the chase has already subsided, and focuses instead on the emotional intimacy and complexity that percolates afterwards. When Haim whisper, "I can see it in your face/I'm relief/I'm your summer girl," it's the portrait of romance so intoxicating that pillow talk doesn't require talking at all in order to understand connection -- no matter how brief. The meandering saxophone soundtracks this all sublimely, tinged with bittersweetness as if to ruminate on the nature of love that, by definition, has an expiration date. I know I'm young and supposed to be at some club hooking up to whatever song of the summer dominates the airwaves, but this year, all I want to do is lay in an open field gazing at stars, surrounded by nothing but the sound of crickets chirping, the crackle of bonfire, and this song playing in the background as I fall asleep in a stranger's arms. [9]

Josh Buck: An unexpected and disarmingly smooth four minute swerve that makes a compelling case for Haim's longevity. [8]

Alfred Soto: A minute before the "doo-doo" hook I knew the drum pattern and sax were drenched in "Walk on the Wild Side," and it fits: Danielle Haim on a casual stroll across Hamptons dunes, cheering herself up with the musical memories competing in her head. [7]

Kayla Beardslee: An absolutely perfect summer song, "Summer Girl" would work best when played on a lazy August weekend, sitting on a screened-in porch or sprawling on a wooden dock, watching the sun slowly dip below the horizon and turn the sky pink and orange -- but I'm listening to it at a dining table on a Tuesday afternoon, and it still sounds wonderful. Danielle Haim is restrained, voice gliding smoothly over the bass with a contentment that matches the lyrics, but her emotions break through on the stellar bridge, where she describes her memories of earthquake drills and tears behind dark sunglasses. These images, which in a vacuum would seem sinister, are instead imbued with a surprising nostalgia, and the best lines in the song follow moments later. Danielle sings, "Walk beside me/Not behind me/Feel my unconditional love," and you can feel a lifetime's worth of emotions -- infatuation, frustration, longing, respect, happiness -- wrapped up in those ten seconds. And behind it all are the joyful bursts of saxophone, echoing like they're coming from just around the next street corner: the instrument, like the song as a whole, blissful, content, and yet always in motion. [8]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Summer in Southern California is, perhaps counter-intuitively, a dreary time. As a kid in the vast suburbs below Los Angeles, summer was mainly characterized by the absence of things -- of the structure of the school day, of the friends you picked up (gone away to various sleepaway camps), of the will to do anything that would risk your leaving the cool darkness of your room. The weather the rest of the year was good enough to be summer, and so the season itself became a sort of filler period, a tone-setter lost in the tone. "Summer Girl" is a song that captures the feeling of an endless Southern Californian summer perfectly, its lazy backbeat and drifting saxophones rattling around in my ears until the track's disparate parts melt together. For a band that's tended towards studio perfection even in their jammiest moments (c.f. "Little of Your Love"), the move towards chill is almost disconcerting. But afternoons spent waiting out the sun deserve soundtracks as much as any of the more kinetic times of summer, and "Summer Girl" fits that bill better than anything I've heard in a while. [8]

Kylo Nocom: "Summer Girl" hearkens back to weird memories of hazy 6th grade school buses playing Kendrick Lamar on the radio and 9th grade memories of looping Radiohead by myself thinking about all of the memories I was going to make in high school. It obviously doesn't resemble the former two artists at all past any invented superficial resemblances (well, the outro does resemble "Separator" a little...) but it captures something specific that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Much of this is like one long blur of looped familiarity, but the bridge is a sweet moment of lucidity quickly whipped into yet another river of pure daydreaming music. Summer's been rough on me; it's my last summer before graduating and I'm still so confused by what I want to do. This, in all of its reassuring and affirming glory, is a pleasant reminder that I've got all the time I need. [9]

Vikram Joseph: "Summer Girl" derives much of its power from the pull and tension between the crisis of health and love that inspired the song (hinted at when they sing about "the tears behind your dark sunglasses") and their determination to present the season as an airy, carefree thing nonetheless. The minimal, pastel tones of the production are impossibly classy -- there are shades of Broken Social Scene at their most light-handed here, and a saxophone part that suspends the song a few feet off the ground, like a balloon perpetually on the verge of carrying the whole thing off into the stratosphere. [8]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

#Haim #pop #music #music review #writing

[gg-astrology]

first of all: love your blog!! 💛✨ could you tell me your thoughts on libra sun and taurus moon? (sun in 6H and moon in 1H) thanksssss🌻

Hey there ofc!!!💛💛 And thank u for loving the blog aaaaa! 💛💛 I’m really happy!! 💛💛 I’m just gonna focus on the Signs if thats okie ;; 💛💛 House position is ANOTHER series all together ksjdnfkn (one i probably won’t touch on aaaa ;; its so much) 

[Below Cut: Libra Sun - Taurus Moon 💛]

Inherently peace loving, like with these combination you have the serenity of Taurus making you nurturing, and then Libra on the outside keeping you receptive (notice things) and reflective of others (’hey, how are you doing?’)

People come to you because you are wise, but also you seem to have more ‘common sense’ than others--- to others, it’s like a light-bulb sparks when they gain more perspective because you have incredible insights and secretly also persuasive powers (can be subtle to others, but you feel this strongly in yourself. Which is why you act cautiously and try to be fair with others-- not to abuse your influence on others, restrain yourself/what you say/do to others as to not mean to hurt them in any possible way)

It makes for a person who’s concerned for others, but in a way that you try to give them possibilities that things can turn out for the better (try to make them see/go towards positive side) without being ignorant towards the possibility that it could be bad (or turn out bad)

Sometimes it might make you run around, anxious  because you 1) care about them and 2) don’t want anything bad to happen to them -- that you’d rather take action yourself to work behind the scenes (whether they know this or not is up to u and them) in order to do ‘damage control’ incase anything terrible happens

This is part Taurus Moon fixed nature coming out towards environment/outside context-- as well as Libra’s assertiveness when it comes to prevention of harm (or rather known to you as ‘Alarm!’)

Your inherent peace-loving makes you take action to prevent pitfalls of others, it becomes a focus motivation (and purpose) for doing something

Ah also! Because this person tend to run around doing this a lot-- you may appear nervous/excitable to those around you because you’re rather ‘reactive/responsive’ to updates on situation sometimes (or just in general)

But otherwise---in times of crisis where everyone ELSE is panicking ---you are calm and stabilizing force for others to hold onto (tranquil and you exert them outwards to people/your environment) 

Take note of what you’re motivated by, your purpose in doing something. Is it for others? For yourself? Because you can get too much indulgence in either of those ends (work on balance)

Because you have Venus ruled sun-moon (regardless of your actual venus) you may tend to be very self-indulgence when it comes to your own happiness/luxury.

Particularly MATERIALLY

STOP STRESS SHOPPING/BINGING THINGS FOR INSTANT GRATIFICATION!!!

The idea is that, you may become a hoarder/complacent of things if you continue. So it’s not a matter of not experience joys of material wealth/comfort. It’s just a matter of ‘where are you going to keep them?’ or whether or not you’re going to do more y know? 

You function best when your room is clear ok. When you have space/opportunity to design it the way you want without getting side-tracked by momentos and what it means to you skdjnfkndg

The same also goes for your self, because you tend to get complacent/comfortable that ‘instant gratification/results’ is a clear goal. You may want to work at something for the $$$ at the end, or date for the pleasure and comfort that it brings you

None of this is bad, but again-- re-evaluate what motivates you. 

This will help you realize maybe that there is more to life than this. And that while complacency may be easy and most things DO come easily to you --- you’ll only feel less anxious and more fulfilled when you actually have to challenge yourself, or work on something. Becoming more active in your desire/work hard for it.

Just saying--- both Taurus as a determined, goal-oriented sign and Libra as it’s astute, assertive cardinal element needs the stimulation to get it out of it’s ‘comfort’ habits and lounging position.

So make sure you get enough ‘staying on your toes’ areas in your actual self. Like pertaining your life and not your friends life, for your own goals as well!!

Welp! I hope this helps!! 💕💕💕 Thanks for dropping byyyy 💕💕

#libra sun #taurus moon #libra #taurus #libra-taurus #anon #asks

[holy-mountaineering]

This spread is for @luciferianme

Thank you for donating!

Tonight you’re getting the full Qabalistic Tree of Life Spread that I do and here you are. What I’m going to do is go through and briefly explain each card, its position on the Tree, and then I’ll give you a summary/synopsis of the spread as a whole.

Think of this spread as a sort of quantum map, or even the land of a regular map, everything is happening at once, in each place. It’s important to think of yourself as moving “through” the map but you are also simultaneously everywhere at once. For the sake of this specific experiment, think of this as a map.

Where we’re starting the journey from is Kether, the monad, the first sign of creation. We’ll call this your hometown, since it is where you’re from originally. Here we have the 8 of Cups, Indolence.

This is emotional stagnancy and “half fulfilled” desires. The structure and order of Saturn is pulled in two directions by Pieces. The waters have become still and a storm is on the horizon. It has been noted that the cups pictured in the card look an awful lot like ashtrays. It’s that shitty.

Try to begin to focus on emotional areas that haven’t received much attention lately unless you want them getting washed out in the storms coming. You must choose what to do in regards to moving forward emotionally or in a relationship that has become stagnant.

In Chokmah, which is like your freeway getting you out onto the road out of your hometown is the absolute wrecker of shit, both needed and unneeded, a friend of the program XVI The Tower (or War), Peh, Mars.

This is “war is hell” but mostly for the losing side. The practical interpretation of this card is something in your life that was built up and seemed really important is about to come down. This isn’t the end of the world or even the neighborhood, it’s just this ONE big thing. This is also not something of your doing per se but more of an “act of god” or an outside force.

If the Tower is in the way of your progress, boom, easy does it. If that was something that you built and liked it might be a little harder. Things being stripped down to their foundations can be great if you want to build something better and not so easily destroyed.

A thing might fall, but don’t go burning down the whole city just ‘cause this one building is going away. Your job is damage control.

In Binah, which is ruled by Saturn and for the sake of this reading we will call the first stop on your roadtrip. You haven’t really arrived anywhere but you’re stopping and getting a chance to repack your car in a more efficient way. Sitting in Binah is the 2 of Disks, Change.

This is the old saying, “The only constant is change.” This is finding stability in the aforementioned changing. In other words, when stuff gets different, strap in and hold on, steady yourself, and get ready to go into the unknown. Look a bit before you leap but understand that position is king, not appearances.

You’re building toward the unknown and pretending to know is not the kind of posturing you should bother with. Not looking for the result of the change, being in the motion, and enjoying, embracing the motion toward the unknown is where you should position yourself.

Disks are Earth, matter, the material world, your everyday life and 2s are the suit trying to formulate into something from the rawness of the Aces or the beginning of the idea of Earth. Astrologically, the influential and expanding Jupiter is in the highs and lows of the Goat-Fish Capricorn, think rollercoaster, possibly one that goes underwater. And like rollercoasters, they’re scary but probably not going to be the cause of your death. Unless they go underwater, that sounds dangerous.

This is a great time to be aware that you’re moving around and kind of always will be. Enjoy the twists and turns of the ride and don’t stress yourself about how and when it will end.

In Chesed which is ruled by Jupiter and again for the sake of this experiment we’ll say involves your influence and benevolence in your current trip is the 9 of Wands, Strength (through action)

Wands are Fire, action, behavior and the 9 is the rapidly increasing charge to the end of peak of the thing(s) being done. The 9 of Wands is like a military campaign that doesn’t have and end goal besides marching all the way through to the nearest ocean. This is no fool’s errand though, you have the resources and you’re getting more resources and thus, stronger. Astrologically this is the Sun and the Moon in Sagittarius who is the flaming arrow constantly moving through the heavens. This is the focus and reflection being pushed to action in a big way.

Gather momentum and resources to attack big issues and tasks that need to be done in your life. Use the built up force to carry you through, even if you don’t know where the F you’re going yet.

Across the Tree in Geburah, which is Mars Town, where you find your drive and what you’re trying to accomplish/conquer is the 3 of Disks, Works or Work or Working.

Like all the 3s, this is the first formulation of the suit, Earth or material world things. The 3 sided pyramid pictured on this Tarot card sits on water propelled by Dharma Wheels, spinning and causing waves. The drive and energy of the warrior Mars has become stubborn and resolute in the goat-fish Capricorn.

This idea of work is not mindless toil. This is doing the very necessary things in your life so you don’t fuck yourself over on the basic things everyone needs to survive. This is formulating the most simple workable “shape of things” that gets your at least basic needs met so you can expand and become more than basic. Put together a simple way of dealing with the material world, something that can be expanded on. Keep your wheels turning even if they feel like they’re just spinning. Make waves, they’ll go further and affect more than you think!

In Tiphareth, the Sun and center of gravity holding all this in place, the heart pumping the blood through this, your heart is the 7 of Cups Debauch.

This is Venus (beauty, personal growth) in Scorpio, the dark water where things growing aren’t seen so clearly. There is a kind of completion of a cycle in the 7s and this Seven is about “letting go” of rotten feelings and connections that have festered. This is a need for what I call “emotional composting” so let things rot out to fertilize future emotional growth. But like a compost pile, you must turn it, give it Sun, and make sure that it doesn’t get rancid.

In order to grow through the darkest of times, we have to stretch out and take in as much light so we can illuminate the darkness. Our emotional problems and trauma shouldn’t sit alone and in shadow collecting molds and stinking up the place. This darkness is a resource and should be utilized for your future growth. It is work and does take energy and labor but I assure your swimming out of this “undertow” (Scorpio) will be worthwhile work you will live to not regret.

Emotionally things might seem rotten, people might appear all shitty, but it’s just trying to become wonderful fertilizer for greater emotional maturity and better future relationships.

In Netzach, Venus town, where you have the realization about how this is going to change you as a person with a personality is a REAL friend of the program XIV ART, Samekh, Sagittarius.

This is the process of the actual Art of Alchemy, the taking apart, putting back together, and purifying. Duality is being dissolved and it’s being used as rocket fuel to project you outward into the Universe. The hermaphrodite alchemist takes the substances at her disposal and works them to make a purer more useful creation. The cauldron has a momento mori that symbolizes that death or real change is a key to dissolving.

You have to change yourself, burn away the bullshit. Break things apart to their various components so you can use the parts to build them again to be useful.

In Mercury Town Hod-ville, where all the Universities are and everyone has real intellectual shit going on is the 6 of Cups, Pleasure.

For reasons I call this the plumbing card. The water is not flowing freely as though it is pouring, it has been pumped through a series of tubes intricately woven together to fill the cups placed in the shape of a hexagram. Emotion and connectedness to life are intentionally being directed by unseen but invited forces. Someone who wasn’t looking closely could see nothing but knots and chaos and even wonder how the damn thing worked in the first place. Those people are squares and should be avoided at all costs.

Do what gives you pleasure that also instills clarity. Center on the best you can feel even if onlookers can’t appreciate what you’re doing connoisseurs (and you) will dig it.

On the Moon in Yesod, the receptive and reflective place that is alot about the feelings that you’re picking up from all this is a real motherfucker, V The Hierophant, Vau, Taurus.

This is being initiated into how things work in the material or normal world. This is the secrets of how things are and some of that is being revealed to you. This is a person, institution, or experience that is telling you “trade secrets” or how to do what you do better. 5s are the human or microcosmic number and Taurus reiterates this material theme. Once you find out how to improve yourself and your understanding of the world, you must now go out and actually use that skill. Knowledge is useless if it is not implemented in the knower’s life and behavior.

Get initiated into the cult of your sphere of interest. Learn how to improve what you do through being initiated in one way or another. Find what/who helps you to learn the “secrets” of how to do your thing better and then go out and do those things.

Down here in Malkuth-istan, the everyday life mundane, waking up pooping, and going to work world is the guiding light, the 3 of Wands, Virtue.

This is not a moralistic idea of Virtue, this is the idea of formulating a basic mode of action to build from. Virtue unto yourself and your Will, as in doing what you do because it’s what you do. Astrologically, this is Sol in Aries or springtime. This is the energy of the Sun close to Earth creating new growth from the stagnate winter. You can also read a message of centering on new growth in your life.

Create a basic plan like a farmer might for spring. You’re no sharecropper, this is your land so plant the fields only according to your Will.

You might as well start paying attention of emotional areas you’ve let go of, there are connections you’re not getting because you’ve forgot to focus on them so long that they’ve rusted. Good news is nothing tears that rust off like a lot of explosive fire and reckoning and having bullshit roasted away. Thing is, I know it’s bullshit because you’ve got an opportunity now to grab your shit and get going. Don’t focus on where you’re going, just be glad you’re moving around.

I’m sorry to say that the only answer with how to effect the changes you want is to keep on doing, but more powerfully, but simply. Do what works, seriously, do what makes the things happen, the things that are causing changes and results. And hey all that garbage that’s been sitting around is worth a lot if you just let it turn into what it’s supposed to be. You can’t hold this mess in your heart and order your SoLar system around it. It’s time to let it go and let it go through it’s natural cycle of decomposition.

The good news is that, the closer you get to “everyday life world” reality, the clearer, and dare I say, happier reality is getting it. That rotten shit will provide you with different elements and compounds you can “science up” and make better shit. You will grow how you wanna grow when you stop not using the fertilizer you’ve grown yourself!!! You wanna get your mind right? Focus on your own happiness by untangling the feelings around who you are and what give you real pleasure. You can learn a lot from what turns you on, not just sexually. When the student is ready the teacher will appear and more often than not, they’re the same person. You have to prepare yourself for initiation into the cult of You Doing You Better.

And my friend, the only way to do you better is to do YOU. Don’t worry about what people think about what you do, I assure you motherfuckers will talk shit no matter what. It is on you to do the simplest of action plans so that you can get started in this dimension of doing you, the best you can!

Ta Da!

Hit me up with any questions, comments, concerns or criticisms!

#luciferianme #tarot #divination #cartomancy #occult #thelema #magick