#clairs readings

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "I love you because..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a love confession for you. it could be a friend, a colleague, someone you help/ed, a family member, your guides or ancestors, your higher self or your present/future partner/spouse. meditate to put yourself in a receiving mode and go check your one, dear soul. enjoy your Valentine's day: whether you feel lonely or not, whether you are in a relationship or not, know that you are deeply loved.

if you rather get a message from your present/future partner/spouse, check my instagram @/psychelis.new

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

I love you of a quiet pure respectful love, because you're strong and brave and you taught me that struggles can be overcome and new goals can always be reached. You taught me a lot also about love and friendship: maybe you don't know, but I have been going through a very tough situation and finding you/having you near, listening to you, helped me so much. You were (and are) like a dream come true to me. You made me stronger, inspired me and helped me move on with a lot of confidence and hopefulness more, and I'll always be thankful to you for this. I am not sure you know about this, about my feelings, I always look at you from a distance and freeze in awe in front of your kindness and beautiful smile. I would like to approach you and thank you personally but I am not sure you would accept it from me. I am still afraid to be abandoned or to disappoint you but I am sure one day I will be able to change this also thanks to you. One day I will be bold enough and thank you properly. I am working to get ready for that day and have no more fear.

[more symbols/signs: fairytales, children, The Little Prince (the dialogue with the fox in particular), fox, star, comets; could be friend, sb in your same school/job place crushing on you, ex, -online- admirer, childhood friend/crush; I'm getting lot of school-related/young energy, could even be a student if you're a teacher or sth; it seems someone who isn't used to kindness and gentleness/support and bc of this you made them addicted to this side of yours]

song: fetish | selena gomez, gucci mane

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pile 2

I love you because you guide me and give me peace. Your voice is like a tender sound calming my nerves, your words are warm and embracing me anytime I need love. You came up unexpectedly and brought the wind of change with you, a warm tender soft one that caresses me and plays with my hair making me smile of a peaceful smile. Something I could hardly experience before. I love you because you help me feel better and change/grow for the better. You've helped me cleansing from my toxic past and you made me see things from a different perspective. Like in a snap of fingers, everything went from chaos to calm, in my mind and in my heart. You always know what to say to bring me back on my feet, to balance me, and you guide me in every move I take. I am thankful for having you by my side, my true anchor and gentle loving sister soul. Never cease to speak to me, I love listening to your ideas and words, you always sing the most beautiful song in my ears, just for me to listen to.

[more symbols/signs: water, emotions, rain/rainy day, wind, sound, dreamcatcher, weather vane, bells, air signs; possible strong mental/5d connection; could be a soulmate (romantic or platonic), also a colleague or family member/ancestor or your partner's higher self]

song: every breath you take | denmark + winter

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pile 3

I love you because amidst all of the chaos, there you were and still are. I love you cause you always wear a smile and try to keep your joy with you, and share it around. I love you cause of your sweet tender habit to dance and turn around everytime you're happy. I love you for all the beauty you bring with you, even if you cannot see it. I love your regal side and your cute side. I love all the different people you are, especially your curios self, never ceasing to learn more of what's around you (please keep yourself safe). I love how you can lose yourself daydreaming about love and what's next for you, but also how you are so easy to distract... Maybe you should focus more, yes, but who cares? I like to distract you too cause when you notice you always get so pouty and offended with me and that's so very cute. Please try to let go of the past, trust yourself. I know you hurt still, but better things will come and you know it too. Don't let the anxiety/worries take over you, stay confident and trust that all will be great. I will also help you make it so.

[more signs/symbols: crowds, -long time- friend/s, studying together, raincoat, jeans, flirting; feels a classmate or friend -maybe a group of friends-, possibly someone crushing on you; young energy but especially from you here so the person/people could be "older" for some of you]

song: golden hour | jvke

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pile 4

I love you because that's what I was born for. I love you cause that's my duty, to care for you and protect you. But I also love you because you resemble me: you're determined, confident and you work for your dreams. You don't let anything or anyone bring you down and even if you don't feel this way now, I know you have it inside of you. You just need to believe again in all that you really are, you just need to remember who you really are. Let me in, let me help you remember it all. Let me help you give you your power back. We can have it all again, together. Don't let the demons you have learned to live with, govern you: you're the one in charge of putting them back to their place. You're the one able to give yourself all that you want, love included. Take care of you, give yourself breaks and get ready: a lot is in store for us. I'm sorry you have/had to wait so much. Please forgive me.

[more symbols/signs: vinyl, music, nostalgia, dancing, gala, Europe, dresses, castle, deep heart connection; possible past life connection (around 1700-1800 centuries; kingdoms); power couple; possible ex/situationship that now is on hold or future partner/spouse, guides/ancestors/departed pet or higher self; in all honesty the first message I got is the last line I wrote. Much more than the reasons they love you for, they wanted you to know how much they long for you now]

song: in the name of love | bebe rexha, martin garrix

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card reading #pick a photo #pick a picture #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #divination #love #love message #valentines day #tarot readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity

[tinartss]

you can hear it in the silence

#kavetham #haikaveh #alhaitham #kaveh #genshin impact #u can hear it on the way home!!!! YOU ARE IN LOVE���� #repost of old art #also exclusive information #i used a reference of phil and claire modern family for this art.....ik.... #as always thank u for ur lovely reblog comments i love reading them sm HAHA <33

[metamorphesque]

― Claire Keegan, Small Things Like These

#one of my best reads of 2023 #such an impactful piece #claire keegan #small things like these #literature #quotes

[whovianimeniac]

A family photo of one of my favorite found family groups. :)

#fanart #art #my art #fan art #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #jim lake jr #jim lake junior #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #blinkous galadrigal #blinky #aaarrrgghh #unfortunately not book compliant #though the book is amazing and you should definitely read it #families of choice

[ofallthingsnasty]

Bill gives off “will fuck you minutes before you have to go meet up your friends so he can get out of it AND have you embarrassed” energy so I’ll love it if you can write that scenario 👉👈

Nothing but facts here 🤭💕 He's such a smarmy asshole haha @flameshadowwolf 😘

fic referenced - please give it a read before you jump into this one, you'll probably need the context.

tags: yandere, heavy dubcon, Bill being condescending as always, breeding mentioned, talk of future knotting, past noncon + forced impregnation + forced marriage, chubby reader, f!reader, werewolf/human, minors dni word count: 3k

You haven’t done your makeup in forever. It’s been at least two months, you think, as you try to remember which of the colors in your little eyeshadow palette is the best for a monochrome look. You don’t really have the time to duke it out with a more complex style right now, especially with your rusty skills - there is barely an hour left until you're supposed to meet Ellie, car ride not included. Your mind sings at the prospect of a quiet evening, with friendly chatter and good food - and you not having to do anything. No needy toddler, no sticky little hands and pouty mouth to rob you of every last ounce of patience and energy, just adults-only conversations and friendly faces. Ellie and her husband Francis are the only members of the pack that are making an effort to include you and you like them all the better for it. You buff out the eyeshadow a little closer to your brows while you try to keep your bitterness down.

That fateful night three years ago had been your D-Day, and everything that followed was just punch after punch to your face - including being shunned by the very community that you had unwillingly become a part of. Of course, the whole pack knows what happened. Three years might have passed, but they still stick their necks together and whisper about it as though it all happened yesterday, avoiding your presence like you’re some bad omen, the hangman’s bride herself. Only Hugh and the Evett couple are cordial, the rest act as though you’re the black sheep of the family. It’s a small relief but at least they treat your daughter fairly well. It might change once her peers reach a mature enough age to be included in the gossip but for now your little toddler girl doesn’t have to play alone on the playgrounds and is invited to birthday parties only her father can take her to.

You rummage through your little makeup bag, searching for your brow powder. It’s probably too old to use safely, but you don’t care as you smudge it into the hairs. It’s not like you have the time to buy a new one.

Out of the whole pack, only your life is ruled by some archaic tradition. You had asked Ellie once about her and Francis and when she answered that they were high school sweethearts, you had quickly ducked into your coffee, ashamed of your own fate. 

Of course, she knows. You’re close enough in age - she’s a few years younger and still bright-faced, probably taking a giant heap of pity in your circumstances. It doesn’t matter to you, you’re just glad that someone who knows about this whole supernatural business is friendly with you - your old, blissfully unaware friends have long since grown tired of your bitter rants about your husband, not understanding why you’re still with him.

Oh, if only they knew. Their not-so-subtle nudges to get you to go to therapy (or to ditch Bill) get nothing but a grim laugh out of you now. No therapist could get you out of this mess, no stupid self-help book could give you the courage (with a sparkle and fire emoji, of course) to just leave. Just leave. God, it’s so stupid it makes you grimace.

Your life simply isn't your own anymore - right down to your name. Now you're just Mrs. Timmons, with a small golden band and his goddamn scent all over you (marking you as his possession). He had dragged you to the altar kicking and screaming, breaking plates and ripping up that gaudy number he had proposed as your wedding dress, but in the end, he had succeeded.

You had threatened to leave once, when Claire had been so very little, to pack her up and go - to the other side of the country, out of the country, across continents - just to get away from him. It had all been hot air, said in a dark moment of despair, of fear.

The solemn truth is that there is no way out of this. No matter how much you screech and fight - you’re not up against a regular man. Behind that grubby smile and dark eyes lies a creature that can track you down with deadly precision and has claimed you as its own, until the day it dies.

It sure is easy to forget when he throws his dirty shoes down onto the couch table or when he smokes when Claire is in the room, when he doesn’t do shit around the house and you get to stew in your anger, ruminate on the abysmal hand fate had dealt you. Then he’s just a regular piece of shit, just another good-for-nothing husband you get to nag and scream at and fume around. But when he fucks you - that’s when he’s back to the snarling beast he had been in that shed. The way he holds you down, even as a mere man, his grip like iron, his eyes feral and wide - even thinking about it makes you shudder.

It doesn’t matter right now, you think. You’ll be safe from his wandering hands and salacious comments in a matter of minutes, able to be yourself and not the always-scowling fury you have been turned into.

Just a swipe of mascara and your purse- 

A soft knock on the door frame interrupts you.

The sound of Bill’s heavy footsteps save you the glance over your shoulder to confirm it’s really him. “Wow, look at you”, he whistles, a freshly lit cigarette in his right hand. “Did I forget something? Date night? Our wedding day? My birthday?”

He laughs at his own joke as he takes a drag and you can already feel the annoyance starting to boil in your stomach. “I kid, I kid. You’re gonna meet with the Everett girl tonight, right? Girl’s night, eh?”

 “Yeah. Francis will join us later, though”, you say, clipped, brushing your mascara wand over the lower lashes of your left eye.

  “That so?”, you can hear him sucking in another lungful, sounding almost pensive. “Sounds awfully nice, princess.” You hum, finally done with your look. “I did invite you to come. If you remember.” A husky laugh behind you makes your brows furrow. “Jesus, woman, what did I do to you now?” You bite your tongue. Oh, you know. You just forcefully impregnated me three years ago and maybe I still haven’t worked through that. No biggie, though. “Be nice to your old man, yeah?”

He takes the cigarette into his left hand and presses a kiss to your temple, then drags his lips down to your ear. His stubble scratches the thin skin that is stretched over the cartilage of your helix and you can’t suppress the shudder. The right hand that lands on your shoulder is heavy and warm as it rubs and presses the fat over the joint, thoughtful but firm. “I have been nothing but kind, haven’t I? If you had ended up with that little freak, you wouldn’t have seen the sun ever again.” Crinkling, dark eyes meet yours in the mirror. 

Evan. You still think about him sometimes, but he moved just shortly after you started showing, too distraught that it had been Bill's kid and not his. You'd pity him if he hadn't done the unthinkable to you, just like Bill did.

“You do know that, don’t you?” Despite yourself, you nod - suddenly hot and cold at the same time. “I keep you fed, I keep a roof over your head, I let you run free, I let you tear up my shit when you’re mad, I let you go to your uppity little bitch you like so much- I think I’m doing way more than necessary, darling.” He mouths at your ear again, suddenly licking and biting the shell, only stopping when you visibly cringe. “I even think I deserve a little something for that, hm? And if it’s not gratitude, it might just be something else.”

He presses out the cigarette before you can even answer, right on top of your eyeshadow palette. Rough hands glide over the nape of your neck, down to your shoulders and settle right underneath your tits where he pushes them up and catches your eyes in the mirror again. “Just look at you, baby. I wish I could ruin all that makeup with my cum but we can’t have you be late for your little wine dinner, hm?” You see your own face twist in shock at his crude words and he watches in amusement, hands already working the soft flesh of your chest. He pinches and prods through the sturdy fabric that cups your tits, rubbing the material between his fingers to appraise it. “Aw, you’re wearing only a t-shirt bra today, aren’t you? Not my favorite lace number?”, he says and squeezes over your clothed nipples roughly, making you yelp in pain. “Or maybe I should be glad you aren’t. Else I’d think you’re dressing up for the Everett boy.” “But you’d never do that, would you?”, his tone drips with something dark. “You’d never betray me, hm?” Your breath stutters. It’s not a question. It’s a threat. “Why, I-”, you gasp, the words enough to shake you out of your stupor. “Why would you think that?”

“Dunno, babe”, he almost croons. “Just wanted to put it out there. In case you got into your little head again.” His hands wander down to your stomach and grab your fat roughly, a deep growl ending the conversation. He buries his fingers deep into you, so deep it stings and you subconsciously stretch upwards, granting him easier access to your neck. He promptly uses it to nip the skin of your pulse point.

“Soft as ever. Makes me want to bite and devour you whole”, Bill laughs. “But I’ll settle for putting another baby in you.” The nails digging through the cotton of your shirt turn sharp and long - he chuckles as you yelp, as you try to wiggle out of the chair in front of your vanity. “Too late, honeypie.” The man who stares back at you through the mirror is no longer a man - he is a wolf again, the same one that sounded the bell for the end of the life you once knew. “Don’t give me those pitiful eyes. Where’s all that fire, huh?”, he snickers, grotesque notes strung together by a deeper voice, by bigger lungs. “Your snippy little attitude. You do know I love to fuck it out of you, again and again.” Your head is pushed down into the wood and it sends your mascara and brushes flying to the floor. He simply drags your face over the vanity until the crown of your head touches the cool glass of the mirror, your legs slowly rising with the stretch. 

You have a hunch of what will follow. “Ass up, sweetheart”, he bites out and kicks the chair underneath you to the side with so much force you can hear it splinter. You’re left to stand on shaky legs, the cartilage of your nose pressed into the furniture. “Good girl.”

You only whimper in response, too weak to struggle against him, even as his hands leave your head.

He shows little regard for your clothes, as little as he had for his in the moment he turned - sharp claws dig into your nicest pair of jeans with little care, thick hands pull them down by force - over your belly, then over your ass. They're left just above your knees as he targets the next layer, a simple pair of cotton briefs. He slices through them and groans at the sight of you - fully exposed, bent over, vulnerable and oh-so-soft.

 "The baby did you good, sweetheart", he laughs and spanks your ass so hard it echoes through the room. "Made you even better. Maybe another one will make that ass even fatter."

  You're mortified at his crude words - but any indignant squawk of protest gets stuck in your throat as he presses his whole muzzle into your cunt.

He licks and pushes and sucks - eats you out so messily that his spit drips down your thighs and you can't contain your voice any longer.

You're rewarded with a chuckle and even more fervor. 

It's too much and yet not enough - his tongue only brushes your clit but he fucks your hole with it so well it makes your legs shake. You don't even register the way his claws dig into your ass, the pain barely noticeable over the mess he's making in between your thighs.

It’s not enough to make you cum but you feel yourself loosening up, growing pliant under his touch. Maybe he can feel it too because just a few precious minutes later he stops, licking his maw loudly. “Could eat you out all day, princess”, he chuckles behind you. “But you got a little girl’s night to go to, don’t you?” You manage nothing but a teary-eyed nod, throwing him a look over your shoulder, that terrifying creature staring right back at you, the man within it clearly getting drunk with the power he has over you when he is like this. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick.” He pushes himself into you slowly, but firmly - his saliva mixed with your own arousal making the most obscene squelch. It’s almost a relief to feel him in you after he fucked you on his tongue and you close your eyes, savoring the feeling of him working you open.

“You take me so well-”, he grits out and you moan in response. You should be ashamed of how much you long for his cock, how the years have made you compliant, even needy for him, even though you’re thoroughly terrified of him - but you can’t find it in you to care right now. The shame will come later, when you’re alone with your thoughts again but for now you just want to him to fuck you so well you’ll forget about everything. He starts out slow but it doesn’t last long - it never does. Just a few thrusts in and he’s found a rather harsh pace that has him fist the neck of your blouse to steady himself, claws puncturing the fabric. “God, I just wanna knot you, sweetheart”, he groans and you believe every word of it. “Bet you want it too- Always such a slut for my knot-” You clench around him both in arousal and shock - taking Bill’s knot is such a messy experience, one that would make you late for sure, with everyone able to smell just why you’re an hour behind schedule. “Ah, tomorrow- I’ll fucking knot you tomorrow.”

Your body is dragged over the wood with every thrust, the crown of your head bumps into the mirror every time he bottoms out - you feel like nothing more than toy with the way you’re rattled around. He seems a little extra desperate, probably trying to empty himself into you as fast as possible.

“Right now I’m- I’m- gonna make you stink with my scent, gonna mark you so that they all know how well I fuck you.” How embarrassing for you. Of course Francis will immediately smell it the moment he walks into the door and you’ll have to duck your head behind your wine glass - wolf that he is, claims like this won’t go unnoticed. “So you can’t run away from me-”, he gasps, out of breath with effort. “And no one can take you, either-” Even through your fucked-out haze, something clicks. He’s insecure. That’s why he’s in this form, why he’s so intent on filling you up before you sit yourself down with friends. Why he just won’t come with you eludes you - but that is Bill, ever so possessive, ever so puzzling.

You’d laugh at him if you weren’t currently getting mounted by a two meter tall humanoid monster, if you weren’t so literally fucked right now.  A groan pulls your attention back to the creature you call your husband. “Oh fuck, babe-”, Bill moans behind you, his pace getting even faster. It grates your insides, your body trying to keep you lubricated as he pounds you. Spittle flies through sharp teeth and lands on your ass as he unabashedly lets his maw hang open, too blissed out to care.

“I’m gonna cum, oh shit- Shit-”, he says and loses himself in a string of curses, trying to fuck you as you deeply as he can, rutting into you with so much force you’re scared the mirror is going to break off the vanity. “Fucking take it-”

The snarl he lets out isn’t human anymore, as are the claws slicing into your scalp, the sudden grip keeping you in place. He shudders violently as he pumps you full of his load, hot and wet. The feeling is enough to wring a throaty moan out of you - not enough to make you cum, but enough to make your legs shake and clench around him. “Damn…” Bill wheezes into the silence that follows, hands still iron on your skin. You slump into the wood beneath you, sweat-slicked and high-strung. He laughs as he hears the thump of your forehead against the vanity. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re gonna make me go before my time with that pussy.” You don’t answer, already irritated with him again. “Well-”, he coughs and takes his hands off you, sounding much more composed. “Looks like you need to start over with your little look.” His words make you gasp and paw at your face, the sticky smudge of mascara palpable on your cheeks. You don’t need to turn your head up to the mirror to tell that you’re back to square one, that you’ll be late, with a dripping cunt and hastily scrawled on makeup. Your arousal is gone in an instant, replaced by hot rage burning its way through your stomach for good. A pat on the head and a content sigh behind you make it boil over, make you clench so hard you actually push him out of you. It’s laughed away, either mistaken for the wrong emotion or simply ignored. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, your old man will make it up to you tomorrow.”

#OC: Bill #yandere teratophilia #werewolf x reader #terato #monster x reader #yandere x reader #capture kill #also if you read this: the little toddler has a name. it's claire. and she's with grandma rn 😭💕

[yuri-is-online]

congrats on 500 followers, you deserve it!! ^_^ i adore your writing! for the masquerade event, may i request prompt 11 with trey, jamil and rook? thank you so much!

11. There is a really lovely moon outside tonight that you find yourself admiring, but if you would just turn around you would find someone admiring you.

Annon my lovely annon how does it feel to have such a wonderful beautiful brain, this is perhaps the most perfect line up of characters for this prompt. I'm happy you like my writing and really hope you like this.

notes: they/them used for Yuu, I can't speak French so none of that for Rook, sorry I do not trust google translate. So many references to music in this one... the other event quests can be found on my masterlist.

Trey

If Trey had to pick something about himself he liked he would probably pick his height. It made certain things easier, like walking through crowds and looking at things in the far off distance. It makes these little emotions he has when he sees you easier to deal with, he can always excuse himself and observe from afar. Trey prides himself on being realistic about these sorts of things, prides himself on his restraint and ability to keep things calm.

But it's hard to deny the truth. Painful even. He can feel the ache even before he sees you, his hand even twitches with the desire to reach out and break your reverie. But he can't, you aren't exactly alone, you walked out on to the balcony with Ace and Deuce close at your heels. They're joking with you, distracting you from the moon and stars he thinks you wanted to observe, but you can't seem to bring yourself to be annoyed with them. That's fine, Trey can be annoyed enough for you both. He would never call himself "massive" but he is certainly blessed with a broad set of shoulders.

And an exceptionally creepy (Rook had insisted it was fancy, très magnifique) bird mask that sends the dynamic duo fleeing back to the ballroom "abandoning" you to your fate. He would be tempted to laugh but he does not want to talk to you just yet. You shake your head in amused affection, relaxing onto the railing and letting some of the night's tension roll off your shoulders. He does the same, trying to give you space but not avoiding you when you move closer.

"The moon is beautiful tonight." Trey says after he's let you have your moment, surprised when you turn to him with a flustered look on your face. "That's what you came here to look at, right?" You cough, not helping his certainty but the shy smile that flickers onto your face suggests he has not made a misstep, not exactly anyway.

"It's a nice night." You say. "Stay with me, won't you?" There's emotion to the request he's tempted to read into. Tempted to classify as the same longing he feels and barely swallows when he looks into your eyes.

"I'll stay as long as you like." He says softly, and tries not to smile too much when you lean your head onto his shoulder.

Jamil

He is in love. You look like a ridiculous child and he is in love, Jamil is smiling at every move you make like he is actually happy for once. It's all he can do to pull himself away from his hiding place out to the courtyard you have decided to to stargaze in, as much as he wants to continue admiring you he would rather no one else see him in this horrifying mood.

"When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie~" You are dancing, he thinks, but it looks more like you are jumping trying to catch the moon in your hands, the rest of your silly song devolving into fits of giggles as you twirl, obsessing over the way the fabric of your costume follows you as you twirl. "Jamil!" You notice him the second he joins you, your hands immediately reach out for his. He lets you take him, lets you guide him in a jerky series of movements he knows aren't real dance moves. You're happy, and seeing him has made you happier.

"Just what are you doing?" He's almost laughing himself now, letting you guide him through your made up dance. "Wouldn't you rather be back in the ballroom?" You hum and shake your head.

"It's too busy in there, I wanted to look at the moon." Your dance slows to a gentle sway, Jamil takes advantage of the lull to take control of the flow, guiding you into a more structured dance. The silver light seems to kiss you, as if the moon is happy you came to look at her. Too bad, Jamil doesn't intend to let your attention wander back her way.

"You know, the view of the moon from Scarabia is especially beautiful, perhaps you would like a change of scenery when you're ready to leave." Jamil helps you twirl your costume, doing his best to guide you back towards the ballroom. He might have been spending his time hiding among the furniture of the ballroom, but he had a plan for tonight. One that involved you wrapped around his finger and waltzing well into the hours of the morning, and while he is not exactly picky about where-

He would very much like everyone to see just where you are ending your night.

Rook

The music in the ballroom drowns the tiny hymn that comes from the balcony. Even if anyone else had been looking for it, they would have found it impossible to hear, but Rook is no casual observer. To the casual observer, Rook is merely standing near the windows and their curtains, the Prefect's strange tune barely recognizable even there.

But then recognizable is not the right word. Rook highly doubts anyone in this world other than him had heard this song.

Initially you had walked onto this balcony because Grim had mentioned seeing a piano there earlier and that had struck you as odd. Why stick a piano out on a balcony if there was going to be a ball with live music inside the actual ballroom why stick an instrument out in the cold? You had thought it would look lonely, but the moon has decided to make it look romantic. Seeing no one around you settle yourself at the keys. And begin to try and play along with the tune in your head.

Rook holds himself back from going to you, telling himself to wait until you look his way, but you don't. You are content to sit and pluck at the piano, seeking the keys that match the memory of another world, another moon. He waits and waits, but still you only idly glance up at the night sky, and never his direction.

"What sweet torture," he murmurs into his mask "to be so ignored by such a perfect sight." As the music finds a stride you still hum, to his great relief. The pitch and quality of the melody matters little when observing someone's most private reflections. What matters is the far away look in their eye, the pride with which they rest their finished fingers on the keys and think aloud some words unlikely to be theirs but fitting all the same.

"Their song interweaves melancholy with moonlight, quiet moonlight so sad and lovely that it makes birds dream in their trees, while fountains sob in ecstasy..."* Your eyes finally turn his way and you startle. He pries his mask free from his face to reassure you of your safety; to you, it is like he has appeared from thin air, but you know him well enough that your surprised smile is more a courtesy than genuine surprise.

"Just how long have you been here Rook?" Your fingers twitch with embarrassment at the keys.

"I was lured here the moment you began to sing my lovely trickster." He bows, mask placed over his heart in genuine devotion. "Truly the power the your soul's voice has to command my steps is frightening." You sigh, embarrassment twinged with joy as you move yourself to make room for him by your side.

"Well then why don't you sit next to me and listen to just how badly I can butcher this piece." He very much doubts you could do such a thing, but who is he to deny your every request?

"My Trickster, I would love nothing more save you."

*Clair de Lune, Paul Verlaine 1869, translated by John Argo 2017. As a note to the interested reader, the linked song is named after the poem. I'm rather fond of it as I once owned a music box that played it.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #jamil viper x reader #rook hunt x reader #piano kun will probably make a return now that i thought them up #i read a lot of interesting poems while trying to write rook because i did not want to go with clair de lune because i thought it would be #basic #i suppose #but it really is a lovely poem

[bblookyyy]

his big ass forehead

#my art #homestuck #dave strider #eridan ampora #hiveswap #joey claire #xefros tritoh #also funfact i was introduced to homestuck through hiveswap #chapter 1 was just released and i watched jacksepticeye play it in like 2017 #and people were like omg roxy and i was like i NEED to know the lore #then i read homestuck

[roecomplex]

Assorted SLARPG sketches :3

#slarpg #mona #claire higsby #beverly #helper slime #furry art #art #digital art #sketch #coloured sketch #drew these literally after I finished the game #Mona def reads lesbian horse books

[pinewood-to-hollywood]

British stage actress and Chaplin’s co-star in Limelight (1952), the talented Claire Bloom.

#claire bloom #1950s #theatre #cats #charlie chaplin #dress #reading #the haunting #limelight

[worldsgayestbonenerd]

i'm thinking about the parallels between Will, James, and Violet and

Will's mother tried to kill him at birth because she knew who he had been, and then abused him his entire childhood instead of nurturing and caring for him. then tried to kill him AGAIN on her death bed. And yet Will is deeply compassionate for others, he constantly tries to do what is best for others with almost no concern for his own safety or happiness. All he wants most in the world is for someone to truly know him, and to still love him.

James was eleven when his father tried to kill him, when every person he had ever known (literally! he has never left the hall!) turned against him. Every good thing he had ever done, all his trying to be perfect, it's completely ignored and he is abandoned. And yet he turns out to be loyal to a fault, deeply protective over his friends, and surprisingly vulnerable with those he trusts. Once again, all he wants most in the world is for someone to truly know him, and to still love him.

Violet was conceived and raised to be slaughtered. Her mother was murdered and she was raised by a family who hated her (except for Tom who has his own complicated shit going on). All she thought she knew, all she thought she could trust, was a lie. And yet she is the bravest, the most loyal, the most trusting person of all of them. She will risk herself every time for others and she believes in Will until the very end, and even when she realizes he is the Dark King she still wants to trust in him. Because all she wants most in the world is for someone (specifically her family) to truly know her, and to still love her.

These are three kids raised with so much trauma who turned out to be the most selfless people. Who just want to be loved. And not one of them gets that. I'm completely sick over this.

#i need to read an AU where these three are harry ron and hermione SO BAD #i need them to be happy and loved #dark rise #dark heir #cs pacat #will kempen #james st clair #violet ballard #sarcean #anharion #dark heir spoilers

[psychelis-new]

pick a pile: "Your love is..."

take a breath and choose the photo or number that calls you the most to read a short description of how you love others, not just romantically. the reading wants to focus on how you show affection, on your main love language and how you are seen by those receiving care from you.

don’t take the reading too seriously. only take what resonates with you and leave the rest. if you're not called by any pile, let this reading slid as it may not hold messages for you. if you're called by more than one pile, there may be messages in each of those piles. remember that is a general reading and some things may not resonate with you. energies can change and readings are based on present ones (as you read); you're always in charge of your life.

(photos found on unsplash)

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1 2 3 4

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pile 1

Your love is gentle and delicate, like a caress. You may love to touch people or hug them, your main love language may be physical touch. You like to make your presence be felt by others. I think your energy/vibe too is very easy to be felt when you're around. You may also have a healing presence/energy: you don't have to do much but just being near someone may help them being stronger and braver too. You are like this presence people may rely on when in doubt or go to when having troubles. Your love is sweet and tender, people may feel brightened and supported by you. Your smile, your warmth: these may be your main traits or charateristics people notice the most about you. You are also cute. You are able to love of unconditional love too, you may love to give love: it makes you feel better. I'm getting a young energy here, so you probably are either kinda young or you still are very in touch with your inner child and let them help you being this little ball of tenderness and affection with others. You may love to run into others' arms while showing affection, it may also make you feel safe in a way (for some).

For others, you are also the one protective with your love, the safe place for others: you probably like to care about those more in need or kids/animals in particular. You like to shelter them. There's also something magical about you and ofc it could be your healing energy but also something about the way you can help others through your kindness. It could be how you like to manifest good things for others as well. You probably are into magic or you heal yourself/others through herbs or such. You may be into natural healing and may have a strong connection with nature/the earth in general. Just try to not let others use and break you as at times you may tend to act a little naïve and let others not-so-nice behaviour get the best of you/control you. Protect yourself as well with your own love. Include yourself into this beautiful lovely shelter as well. You may also have lot of admirers and if you're in a relationship you may have your lover trying to protect/shelter you (you may be petite and/or younger or they just need to cause of your gentle sweet energy). You may not be aware of how many people really appreciate and like you and have self doubts, but I hope you will be more objective about yourself and your loving sweet nature and appreciate it more. Find likewise individuals/groups (dunno why but I have to say: especially if you feel lonely at times, ask for guidance to likewise people not just to animals and nature -you may attract animals easily btw or Guides may show love/guidance/signs through them, especially birds; birds may guide you to new people).

song: 7 ways | abs, eve

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pile 2

Your love is full, you give plentiful of love and affection. I'm suddenly smelling moss here and I think it's cause your love is very deep and sensual, but also so grounded and safe. Comfortable. You know, moss also hides lot of natural treasures like good roots and plants to eat not just for survival, and therefore I think your love too hides some nice gifts for those receiving care and attention from you. You probably also like to give gifts or encourage people through words of affirmations... actually, I think you are able to adapt your love language to the receiver, so to give them what they need the most: this is why I think you are able to really gift further treasures within your already loving attitude. Your love is safe but also gently surprising, something like that. You don't do big gestures as they may scare or embarass others (and maybe you too), but just little nice acts that are welcomed so gladly by everyone. Your love nurtures them, and makes them feel good about themselves too.

Some of you may have been deceived or have given to the wrong people, so now may have a wound when it comes to give but even more receive love, the type of love you really deserve to receive. Please, remember that you can still be this precious kind being and have boundaries to protect yourself: being kind doesn't mean not having boundaries or people pleasing. You don't have to stay around people that are bad for you or make you suffer. But you can act as a good reminder for them on how to behave in relationships. Some of these people who hurt you though, understood what they lost: when you leave a relationship (of any type), people notice your absence. They realize how important and special was your love in their life. Some of them may feel guilty about having made you go and may try to come back but please, do not fall into their trap unless you have proof that these people have changed and can give you back too now, and as much as you deserve. Relationships don't move on a one-way street (you give -> the other receives), or you'll just end up being emptied. I am kinda sure you know this by now, but I just wanted to remind you about it. You deserve love and respect too, do not stick with anything less, do not accept crumbs. You're so caring and special, keep your standards high. (I also hear you're kinda passionate too especially as a lover, and this side of yours can only be seen by special people. Keep it this way, your match is coming).

song: love of my life | queen

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pile 3

Your love is discreet. You're never overwhelming or too much, you tend to give the right amount at the right time/when it's needed. It's like you let others live their life and observe them and just come in as a further support. I feel like a motherly/parental type of love from you, a type of love that is there as an anchor for bad times. You probably rather use words of affirmations and quality time to express your love: you like to listen to others, to guide them. You're there, in the corner, waiting for them to come to you like a guide or a guru, when they are lost. And once they can walk again with their own legs, you keep watching them from afar. You are never too much or don't occupy too much of others' lives with your love. It's all very calibrated and precise. I said parental love but probably it's more like a grandparent-type of love. You may occasionally like to give gifts as well if they can be used as an help or guidance.

It's like you know others need to make it alone, they have to make their own experiences and you cannot interfere in their life too much: both good things and bad things are part of this life and even if it breaks you to see them suffer, you know you cannot prevent them from suffering. I feel a very wise energy from you, maybe you are an old soul. All I can focus on is this person sitting on an old elaborated chair, waiting for others to run to them with open arms and a loving nostalgic smile. Are you feeling a bit isolated and alone in your life atm? Maybe you don't have many friends and you don't like to really enter others' lives abruptly; or you've been isolating to heal something or had to focus on something else and it kinda made you feel alone. Know that your love is always very appreciated by others, even if you think you're not able to love as you'd like to. I think you're just grown unused to it, but good news: we can always re-learn stuff. Even how to love (and we can change our ways, as we change too through our life). Others can feel what you have inside of your heart, there's no need to block it. You can give more of it: if you think others have tried to hinder it and you in the past and didn't accept your love, it simply was not the right people ready to receive that from you. Why would so many people run to you, if your love wasn't this special for them? If you weren't as special for them? Please, love. Keep loving as you feel and want to. You'll get it back too. Let others give you back, it's not just wishful thinking, it can happen.

song: love to dream | doja cat

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pile 4

Your love is patient. Your love reminds others of good old times and feelings that they may fear they lost. It feels like time and space-travelling to ages and places that are too far away in our past. Your love is also difficult to explain, it feels like a mix of emotions and experiences that are so different and complex and hard to distinguish. Your love can mostly "be felt with the heart". It's a movie/fairytale type of love. And it's also very romantic. You may be pretty romantic. Your love is pure and gentle like a caress or a breath of fresh air. You may be practicing acts of service and express words of affirmations the most but your main love trait is indeed this peculiar character/trait you give to what you do and say that takes others aback and sends them to emotional places they thought now are unexistent. You focus so much on the object of your love/attention, that they can feel like the only human being alive in that moment in the whole world. You make others feel seen and heard like no one else, you really have the ability to listen to people and see people as nobody else. And this is really special cause at the end of the day, every person on earth mostly wants to be heard and seen.

You are really able to stand by the other person's side through thick and thin and you don't disappear when things get tough. As said, very romantic and ultimate us against the world type of energy. You really want others to succeed too. To see their best sides and traits especially if they tend to focus on the dark parts. Your love is very individual, it's crafted on each receiver much more than in the other piles. Your love is for the soul of others: you don't care about the looks, you see beyond that. You may also have a specific soul connection that you need to find in this life (you will ofc at the right time if you haven't already), so to bring more love around in the world. Maybe not just that but you have some type of mission you may need to accomplish with this other soul (or group of souls ofc, take as resonates: it could be romantic love, bring to life a child or a project/work.... it depends). There's a need to communicate something, maybe about this love inside of you (maybe you two) or this ability to see beyond and really see and hear others. If you have insecurities or troubles related your ability to bring support and care to others around you (maybe you have been silenced a lot in your past, even emotionally, or you were and are an highly sensitive person and had to deal with an emotionally complicated environment), let them go: you're important, you are able to bring support and you're more than enough to do whatever your soul is calling you to do. Don't let random occurrences hinder you. Do not silence yourself out of fear. Trust your inner vision.

song: we own the sky | m83

#pac #pick a pile #pick a card tarot #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a card #divination #tarot readings #tarot readers #intuitive readings #clairs readings #psychic readings #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #pick a pile readings #pick a pile tarot

[rhetthammersmithhorror]

Footlight Parade | 1933

#Footlight Parade #Claire Dodd #Lloyd Bacon #currently reading #naughty stories #hammersmith horror

[authorofemotion]

bruh i just got called boring for brown being my favorite color. sorry for finding joy and comfort in the everyday and often overlooked areas of life

#her favorite color was gold #she was sooo proud of it too #also typing this out is so funny bc i’m not actually upset about it but it reads like preschool playground discourse #claire yells to the void

[latibvles]

“a real tough cookie with the whiskey breath.”

oh blind dates oc fest my beloved how i missed you. to the surprise of no one, because i cannot be quiet about anything ever : a MOTA OC this time around. i'm sure this bar probably has a name to be found somewhere on the internet, but until I come across it [ big cartoony shrug ]. anyways, here's Genevieve Laurent, or Gen, if you're friendly. @blind-dates-fest ♡

Tom’s is only a fifteen minute bike ride away. The pay is good, she gets to keep all her tips, and her boss, for lack of a better term — downright adores her.

That’s never been the reason why she’s stuck with it all this time, though. There were better paying jobs in equal distance, and if she really, really wanted to, she thinks she’d do a pretty okay job packing parachutes or something of a similar vein. Respectable work, her mother would call it, which was secret code for: work that will keep you out of trouble, and possibly off the street before midnight. But that was really what it came down to: whether Genevieve wanted to do it. And for all the respect she had for those women, she knew that wasn’t the thing that called to her — not like it did to Claire, who was now off in London with the best and brightest, working in the Foreign Office.

Whatever that meant.

Much more glamorous than Genevieve’s own station, and she’s fairly certain none of their mother’s letters are imploring Claire to quit anytime soon. She was almost apologetic, in a way, that she couldn’t entice her family with letters filled with omissions, with work so secret she could hardly speak of it — but the beer wouldn’t pour itself and somebody had to do it after all those hours in flight.

“Thought you were leaving me out to dry tonight, sweetheart,” There’s a solid hand gripping her shoulder and squeezing, and Tom gives her a smile that’s all crows feet and genuine appreciation. Of course, the place wasn’t actually called Tom’s — but the sign was so faded that she and the other girls just tended to refer to it by the name of their esteemed publican. Genevieve returns the smile.

“And miss out on all this? Wouldn’t dream of it.” As if to accent her point, there’s a wave of hoots and hollering from the floor beyond the bar — no doubt from a bet won or a game of darts coming to its speedy conclusion. The song of the end of the work day. He gives her shoulder a shake, then lets go.

“Do me a favor and take those whiskeys to the table in the back? I think Elsie’s got caught up out there,” she follows his gaze to one of the other girls on shift —Elsie’s smile is easy and the tray on the table is empty, but she’s chatting up a storm at a table of men in brown uniforms. And Genevieve can’t exactly blame her, because while they knew practically every member of the RAF who came in and out on their days off, Americans were a sight to behold. Which is probably why Tom is sending her to the table in the back, with the hopes that she’ll be speedy.

“Yessir,” Genevieve hums, taking the tray of glasses with little fuss, making her way across the bustling floor with practiced hustle.

It’s not the pay that keeps her here, or the warmth of her boss. Not even the fact that she could do every job in this place, if she had to.

Genevieve had a penchant for poking her nose into places for the thrill of it — and there really was no thrill quite like conversation with people who had time to kill and liquor in their systems.

She recognizes the RAF officer at the table: David Griffiths, who Claire knew better than Genevieve did. She’d laughed when Claire told her he joined the RAF, and as an officer, no less. He’d been meek before the war, to put it lightly — maybe that slate-colored uniform and dark blue tie gave him the confidence he once lacked, she didn’t know. And then a couple regulars from around town. So the one in a brown uniform as opposed to their English blue sticks out like a sore thumb, and her curiosity is piqued in spite of David’s attempt to draw her attention with his smile alone.

“Thought old Tom was keeping you in the back tonight.”

“You know, it’s much easier to simply say you missed me, Griffiths,” she hums, leaning over to set down the tray. “Whiskeys for the table, yeah?” David clears his throat and makes a show of adjusting his cuffs, flaunting the new insignia adorning his sleeve as he had for every promotion prior. Genevieve straightens out, wraps her arm around his shoulder to pick off a stray thread.

“Captain Griffiths, congratulations,” Genevieve acknowledges just for the sake of him, then diverts her attention to look over the table, eyes settling on the new face staring right back at her. His dark hair curls over his forehead, with a straight nose and a pretty pair of lips — the wings on his jacket are catching lamplight. The smile on his face is what’s got her the most curious. “And who’ve you brought to cause trouble in Tom’s respectable place of business?”

The smile grows, the stranger leans back in his seat.

“No trouble over here ma’am, not unless you hate singin’.” His voice is deep and gravelly and, well, very American. His tone goes up at the end of the sentence, like it’s a question she’s meant to answer, and Genevieve wonders if it still counts as a bait when she can recognize it for what it is. She raises her brows, David’s hand curls around her wrist loosely as if to remind her that he’s there.

“Only if it’s bad.”

“Best keep your mouth shut then, Major, wouldn’t want to cause a scene,” around them, the other men chuckle at David’s quip — Genevieve pulls her wrist from his barely-there grasp as the Major raises his glass to his lips, before waving a hand dismissively on the swallow.

“Don’t listen to him, I’m like a canary over here.” He draws out each syllable, his smile only growing. She doesn’t believe him for a second.

“Well, Major, make sure not to shatter any glasses with your tunes and you’ll have soothed all my worries,” He chuckles at that, sitting back in the chair and Genevieve looks him up and down rather shamelessly before patting Griffiths’ shoulder. “Enjoy your evening, boys.”

Genevieve knows the feeling well — that sensation of eyes tracking her every movement as she walks away. She’d call it a sixth sense, the way she can make the distinction between the slighted nature of Griffiths’ staring as opposed to the more welcome lingering look of the Major, who’s name she’d surely get by the end of the night. If Claire were here, she’d probably laugh, then apologize to Griffiths for her little sister’s fleeting attention span, accompanied with some remark about how Genevieve had a penchant for things shiny and new. Genevieve would beg to differ and say it was more like she had a penchant for the things she didn’t understand.

And so what if she liked the staring, and leaving the air more charged than she’d found it?

Regardless of the interaction, the night wears on, and so long as the taps are flowing Genevieve is busy enough to keep from staring at the back table for too long. At some point, they stand up and make their way toward the dartboard (and Elsie with them, who shoots her a wink from across the room that has her laughing and Tom groaning from their spots behind the bar). Luckily, she’s only gone for maybe fifteen minutes — and she comes back with orders for Tom, before scurrying over and leaning forward on the bar.

“Better straighten up over there, Genny,” Elsie leans forward further to tuck one of Genevieve’s stray hairs behind her ear.

“Back from your mission so soon?”

“Well I had to make sure the prize was in place.” Genevieve raises an inquisitive brow.

“And that means..?”

“It means—” Elsie is effectively cut off by another round of hollering, and Genevieve knows the grin on the other girl’s face all too well. Elsie turns around and she follows the girl’s eyes to several things. One, Griffiths walking out of the pub, two, Major Canary laughing as he makes his way over and three, a conglomerate of Irishmen clapping his shoulders and shaking them in congratulations. “Well now we know who the winner is. Good luck!”

Before Genevieve can get a word in, Elsie’s scurrying back over to Tom on the other end of the bar to grab the drinks he’s lined up. She turns her back to the floor, but still hears a heavy exhale as someone takes a seat behind her. Then she tilts her head to look, and makes little attempt to withhold her smile as the dots connect fairly quickly in her head.

“Major Canary,” Genevieve hums in greeting. “Am I getting you anything?”

“Whiskey’s fine,” He looks around, like he’s taking a survey of the room, then turns to rest both elbows on the polished wood as she grabs one of the glasses that’s already dried. “Think you got me in trouble with your boyfriend back there,” he laments with a grin, running his thumb over his bottom lip.

“Who, me?” Genevieve slides the glass along the countertop. “You might have the wrong girl, sir.”

“Oh? What makes you say that?” He takes that tone again — so clearly baiting her and Genevieve is, admittedly, a little too eager to take what he’s giving this time.

“Well for one, I don’t have a boyfriend,” she hums, holding up the pointer finger, and then her middle one, “And two, I’m willing to wager it was the dart game that got you in trouble, Major.” She slides the glass over the countertop, and he takes it. He’s closer now than he was at the table — she can finally make out that his eyes are blue, like the RAF uniforms.

“Yeah? How much are you willing to bet?”

“Well, how much did you earn in your game? Must’ve been a hefty sum for the Captain to walk out like that.” Genevieve leans forward on the bar now, tilting her head as she looks at him, already knowing the answer. His eyes flit over her face and down the length of her neck, following the curve of her shape before the bar cuts off his vantage point, then he goes back to returning her stare. He brings the glass to his lips, then licks off the excess before he opens his mouth again.

“A shot with the pretty girl serving drinks tonight? Pretty priceless if you ask me.”

“Well that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” Genevieve remarks with an airy laugh.

“But it made you laugh. Must be doing something right.” He counters, and she laughs again with a roll of her eyes. “See? Just did it again.” Genevieve shakes her head slightly.

“Well if my company’s so priceless why haven’t you asked my name yet? Bragging rights and all that.” It’s hardly the bait of their earlier conversation — but it’s something, and she wonders if he recognizes it for what it is, like she had at the table. He finishes off the glass, pushing it back to her with his fingertips and holding her gaze all-the-while.

“Well my bragging was gonna be making you laugh ‘till your boss throws me out, but I should probably get the name so I know who to ask for next time, right?” She takes his glass, and moves to fill it again — feeling both like the belle of a ball and like one of those wood logs in a fireplace crumbling into charcoals, giving off sparks. Somewhere in the back of her head, Claire is screaming at her to stop dancing so close to cliffsides before she takes a tumble she’ll regret, but right now she doesn’t feel any ground giving way beneath her feet.

“Genevieve. Gen, if you’re friendly.” She hums out, taking her time on his refill with the express purpose of keeping him there a little longer. The laugh he lets out is breathy, almost disbelieving, and she looks back up at him through her lashes. “Your turn, or should I just keep calling you Major Canary?”

“My turn, she says,” he mutters, probably more to himself than her even if she can hear it. She passes the glass back over. “Well if we’re being friendly it’s Bucky. Egan.” He exaggerates it — the word friendly, but Genevieve’s really hanging on the ‘if’. She feels almost like a kid picking apart words to prove her point. She should’ve been a lawyer. ‘If’ meant she had options, and maybe she feels a little prideful; to know she has control of where this thing goes. It’s a rush. The kind she wouldn’t get packing parachutes or up in an office. The kind only another person could give her.

The ground gives a little beneath her feet, but Genevieve is undeterred.

“But I take it you’re aiming for a little more than that, is that right, Bucky?”

The smug grin on his face is as much of an answer as any.

And it excites her down to her bones.

#masters of the air #john egan x ofc #masters of the air oc #mota fic #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #blind dates oc fest 2024 #. genevieve laurent #...yes there's France lore #I’ve got lady pilots existing in my docs Now but By God Tom’s Girls stole my keys. I just think they’re neat #took a little inspo from a historical fiction book I read for Claire admittedly #shoutout bletchley park codebreakers #this one for all my little sisters with academically gifted big sisters [ raises hand ]

[charliethomascoxuniverse]

Omg, I was just browsing through Paul Anthony Jones's "The Cabinet of Linguistic Curiosities", and did you all know flirting is technically ILLEGAL in New York??? 👀👀👀 (*** See below)

The real question is whether Mr Summa Cum Laude, officer of the law, Matt Murdock, is in fact well aware of that and has just been insouciantly going around committing more acts of criminality than just vigilantism all this time. 😂

I'm sorry, but you can't look at this shameless hussy and tell me he doesn't know exactly what he's doing! 🥴

He's relentless! You just can't take him anywhere! 😅💗

Not to mention Mr Sounds-Like-We're-Getting-Married/You're-Not-Gonna-Kiss-Me/Cross-My-Heart over here.🥰💕

And where to start with these two? I can't even. 😏🔥

Okay, he wasn't in New York here, so we'll give him a pass this time...

In summary, the gentleman is a tramp. 🤭

I love him, Your Honour. 💋

Don't let the innocent act fool you, ladies and gentlemen of the jury -- that is the handsome face of a shameless flirt!! ☝️☝️☝️

*throws panties the book at him*

(***)

So he's really only innocent of fault in the case of Claire, because they weren't in public, but he's guilty as sin in all the other cases. 🤣

(Sorry, but I have a nerd's sense of humour, therefore this is very funny to me, if not necessarily anyone else. *shrug* 😅)

#when my miscellaneous reading and Daredevil intersect 😂😂😂 #matt murdock #charlie cox #daredevil #claire temple #karen page #foggy nelson #elektra natchios #jennifer walters #matt x claire #karedevil #matt x foggy #mattelektra #mattifer #shedevil #rosario dawson #deborah ann woll #elden henson #elodie yung #tatiana maslany #she hulk: attorney at law #my random ramblings #long post

[myloveismineallmine]

Sydcarmy & Beauty and The Beast

So, The Bear is a story with many themes and messages in it. The process of creating a story a lot times is just frankenstein-ing other stories and elements you like plus your owned lived experience.

I don't really remember how I started thinking about it, I do remember it was like 3am so that definitely has something to do with it, but I started thinking about Beauty and The Beast. And then I started comparing certain elements of it with The Bear. And then I started reading the Wikipedia page for Beauty and The Beast. And then I looked at the clock and it was like 4am so I was like okay, I should sleep now actually.

I did notice a lot of interesting similarities between the two, so I wanted to compare some of them in this post here. I think it's a really interesting lens to look at the story of The Bear from.

Chapter 1: The Beast

So, while it would be cool to do some kind of role reversal with the two romantic leads, this story does not do that, and the obvious parallel for Carmy is The Beast.

Rundown of The Beast's character traits, via wikipedia:

"In the original tale, the Beast is seen to be kind-hearted for the most part, and gentleman-like, with only an occasional tendency to be hot-tempered. Disney's interpretation of the Beast made him more constantly angry and depressed, due to the shame from his unkind actions which led to his transformation, and particularly his struggle of reconciling his hideous appearance with his inner humanity which made him feel hopeless about breaking the curse. Supervising animator Glen Keane describes The Beast as "a twenty-one-year-old guy who's insecure, wants to be loved, wants to love, but has this ugly exterior and has to overcome this." Upon his reform under his love interest Belle, his personality changes to refined and more even-tempered, while naive about the world at the same time."

Obviously this isn't to shame JAW's appearance, he's a pretty attractive dude, I'm looking more at the personality traits here.

The Disney version of him is way more unhinged and animal-like, which I'm not sure perfectly fits Carmy, but I feel like the insecurity, anger and depression is pretty accurate.

I don't think the "beast" element is entirely irrelevant, however. Let's think about what the namesake of the show is: The Bear. In reference, or course, to the main family having the last name Berzatto. They do also refer to each other as "Bear."

It's Cousin Michelle who makes the connection between the Berzattos and literal bears:

When she mentions this quote someone had said to her.

Stevie likens the Berzattos to bears later on in this episode:

It's pretty clear that the Berzattos = bears. Aggressive, but also kind and emphatic.

I also want to talk about the very first scene of The Bear:

Carmy is letting the bear out of it's cage, walking slowly towards it. He says "I know" to the bear, trying to calm it, or maybe trying to empathize with it. The bear growls and attacks him, and he wakes up from the nightmare.

It's clear that the caged bear represents something in Carmy. His rage, his stress, his grief. And he can't control it, it escapes and it consumes him.

Backstory of The Beast, extremely paraphrased:

Disney version: A prince is spoiled, cold-hearted and extremely selfish. He's transformed into a hideous beast as punishment, and told he won't transform back unless he earns the love a beautiful young woman.

Fairytale version: The prince's father died before he was born, and his bio mother leaves him in the care of an evil fairy godmother. Things get weird and incesty, this was the 1700s ig, the godmother tries to seduce the prince when he's an adult. He rejects her and she curses him to become a beast and says the curse won't be broken until he receives a maiden's act of true love. There's then a lot of really irrelevant fairy-lore and other stuff that I don't really want or need to get into.

I feel like evil mother figure one might be more accurate? Especially because Donna's one of the people who gave him so much trauma that he still carries with him? Generational trauma and addiction is "a curse" in a way.

Chapter 2: The Beauty

So it's very clearly Sydney.

Beauty in the OG fairytale doesn't have a super interesting personality outside of "pretty, caring and kind." so I think we'll look more at the Disney version here:

"While the studio wanted Beauty and the Beast to resemble an old-fashioned film, the writers envisioned Belle as "a woman that was ahead of her time"."

"...  the screenwriter conceived Belle as a headstrong feminist to avoid creating another "insipid" Disney princess."

"Beauty and the Beast's story department was predominantly male. Woolverton often argued with the more traditional story artists over Belle's role and personality, but continued to be supported by Katzenberg and lyricist Howard Ashman, the latter of whom also lobbied for "a thinker and a reader" who "wasn't a victim"."

So, Belle was basically a strong and independent woman for Disney at the time. I wanna hone in more on these character traits they mention specifically.

Sydney is very intelligent, even an overthinker at times. She literally shows up to, like, week 2 of work with a full book written on how the business can be improved.

We know she's a reader. Not only from the coach K book, she also mentions lending Marcus books at some point.

I also think Sydney fits the "not a victim" criteria. Sydney is shown pretty consistently to stand up for herself and fight back in situations.

On Beauty's backstory:

In every version of The Beauty and The Beast, Beauty's a daughter to a widower (much like Sydney is.) Beauty has many siblings, most notably her evil older sisters. They are omitted from the Disney version, and Belle is an only child.

In the Disney version, Belle is well known for her beauty, but looked down upon for not conforming to more traditional feminine roles.

Being a headstrong woman of color in the very white and male dominated world of fine dining, I can see how she fits this.

Her father has doubts about her career as a chef, she has had bad experience with chefs in leadership positions before, and the crew of The Beef really looks down on her at the beginning of the series.

Chapter 3: Beauty and The Beast

So now let's talk about the actual relationship of the Beauty and The Beast.

Belle/Beauty is lured into The Beast's castle because her father is being held captive inside. And interestingly....

Sydney references her father as the reason for why she applies for The Beef.

In the fairytale, The Beast is immediately smitten with Beauty and asks her to marry him every day. That would be a very obvious HR violation in The Bear, so I think it might be better to look at the Disney version of this story.

So in the Disney version, The Beast is more annoyed that Belle and her father showed up at all, but he does know she's a pretty woman and allows the release of her father so she will be his prisoner instead.

Their relationship is pretty bad at first, like you'd expect a captor and prisoner relationship to be, but he does allow her a nice lavish room. He orders her to have dinner with him, and she refuses to leave her room to protest against him.

Carmy and Sydney were friendly at first meeting, but after The Stock Incident, their cracks really start to show. It's when Sydney really stands her ground and argues back at him. This is not the end of the arguments and tension between them.

Belle and the Beast end up getting in a fight when Belle snoops around his room. He yells at her more loudly this time, and Belle flees the castle on horseback. She gets attacked by a pack of wolves and The Beast saves her. She takes him back to the castle and nurses his wounds.

This to me matches with the final fight Sydney and Carmy have in season 1. Carmy displays the worst of his anger, and it causes Sydney to want to wipe her hands with him completely. She grabs her stuff and leaves, telling him she's quitting.

She comes back when he apologizes to her, and they have a real bonding moment when they decide to open a restaurant together.

The Beast and Belle start to have a better relationship after The Beast heals. They become more friendly, The Beast more docile, and they're both really happy for the first time in the film. There's a scene where The Beast shows Belle the castle library and tells her it's hers.

I think the equivalent would be seeing Carmy and Sydney plan the menu together. In those scenes they seem less like co-workers and more like friends. You can also tell it's one of the few things they get actual real enjoyment doing.

I think the main parallel I see for this relationship is how Carmy and Sydney improve each other. Like with Belle and The Beast, you can actually see Carmy learn how to better handle conflict and communicate more efficiently when he's placed with Sydney.

He's more vulnerable. He apologizes more. He's able to better control his temper.

There's two very concrete examples of Sydney being able to help stabilize his emotions, actually.

Sydney is quite literally "taming the beast" in Carmy. Cognitive behavioral therapy would also achieve that, but Carmy is too much of a workaholic to attend a session, so Sydney will have to do for now. They didn't have CBT in 1700s France, either, unfortunately.

I will also say that this isn't a 90 minute Disney movie, so the slow-burn will be slow-buring for awhile until we get to the actual conclusion of the fairytale.

Chapter 4: Gaston

so I have two characters in mind for this role: Richie and Marcus. But def more heavy on Richie than Marcus.

Gaston is a villain made exclusively for the Disney movie. Here's some description for him:

"In direct contrast to his adversary the Beast, Gaston is depicted as physically handsome with an unattractive personality, both physically and emotionally embodying hypermasculinity. "

"Gaston has been generally positively received by film critics, as his lack of "magic power or political influence" means that his villainy tends to resonate with audiences who often identify someone similar to him in real life, although critics regard him as a less memorable villain than some of the studio's previous efforts."

"The Huffington Post described early drafts of Gaston as "a weaselly, sort of wimpy character." In fact, Gaston was originally intended to resemble more of an annoying than antagonistic character,"

So I think Richie kind of fits the "hypermasculinity" thing, in terms of some of his mindset and sexist behaviors.

Richie, for at least the first season, really looks down on fine dining as a concept. He makes fun of Carmy and Syd for their background in it and makes snide comments about it whenever possible.

Gaston also looks down on Belle for liking books, and encourages her to live a more "simple" life with him instead.

Here's a really interesting parallel I found with these two:

Making fun of the main character's book and then throwing it away? In the intro of the story? Very interesting.....

As far as the similarity with Marcus: it begins and ends with Marcus and Gaston both having unrequited feelings for the main female protagonist.

Other than that, Richie is way more Gaston coded in the grand scheme of things. Just not as evil. I feel like he gives first-draft Gaston with being "More annoying than antagonistic."

Chapter 5: What about Claire?

I see Claire fitting into this as almost like a faux-Belle. The love interest that's supposed to "fix" the main protagonist, but something doesn't work.

Again, there's two scenes I wanna look at specifically to showcase this:

This reaction shot of Carmy. This is the last shot of the sex scene, and there are some other previous shots of the sex scene overlaying this at times. But I've been wanting to do a deep dive into it for awhile-- why have this shot? What's the purpose of it?

I think that this shot clearly tells us that Carmy is either pensive and/or dissatisfied with what has happened. Laying with his eyes open and just staring at the wall, deep in thought, possibly regretful. This isn't the expression a man who's just had sex with a pretty woman usually has. This is one of many clues that this relationship isn't something that he really wants or enjoys.

Aaaand, the panic attack scene again. If Claire was his "true love", she would be able to quell his anxiety and panic, if this whole "beauty and the beast" story arc I'm putting together is to be believed.

Claire is the perfect girl. She's pretty, smart, talented. His family loves her. She loves him. But she does nothing to fix his problems. Because it's not true love.

Carmy not being happy at the thought of Claire vs Carmy cracking a smile because he looks at containers of radichio + fennel, ingredients Sydney cooked him once.

It is ABUNDANTLY clear that his feelings for Syd help his mental state in ways his feelings for Claire do not. Because what he feels for Sydney is closer to true love.

Conclusion:

Am I saying Christopher Storer took the plot beats and characters 1 for 1 from Beauty and The Beast? No, obviously not. Am I saying that maybe he sat down one day and this movie was on and he was like "hey maybe i can do something with this"? Possibly!

This is just speculation at the end of the day, but I really loved looking at all the possible connections between these two things. Tell me your thoughts on all of this: cool interpretation or am I just talking out of my ass?

#thank u for reading all of this if u did because holy shit #this is a long one #the bear meta #sydcarmy #anti claire bear