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#final tart
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Meguca eyes
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muffinrecord · 1 year
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Homescreen girl of the day is... Final Tart!
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tomicscomics · 3 days
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05/13/2024
A suffocating childhood?!
___
JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. The Source: This cartoon is based on a question St. Joan received during her trial. Before I explain it, here's the story from the original manuscript (translated by W. S. Scott): "Questioned concerning her father's dreams, she replied that when she was still with her father and mother, she was often told by her mother that her father had said that he dreamed his daughter Jeanne would go off with the soldiers; and that her mother and father took great care to keep her safely; that they were very strict with her; and that she was always obedient to them save in the incident at Toul, the action for [breach of promise of] marriage. She said further that she had heard her mother say that her father had said to her brothers: If I thought that such a thing could happen as I have dreamed, I should want you to drown her; and if you did not, I would drown her myself. And that she greatly feared that they would lose their minds when she left to go to Vaucouleurs. Asked if his thoughts and dreams had come to her father after she had her visions, she replied: Yes, more than two years after she first heard the voices." 2. Summary: In short, Joan's judges have heard that her father had prophetic dreams about her leaving home. She tells them what she knows based on what her mother told her, including that her father would prefer to have her drowned than let her go off with the army as he dreamed. 3. Location Change: For those wondering, after the 6th session of Joan's questioning, some of her assessors became too busy to consistently attend sessions, so Bishop Cauchon decreed they'd hold future sessions in her cell to make things easier. 4. The Name "Tart": First off, Jacques' last name was spelled a lot of different ways in old French (Darc, Dars, Dart, Darx, Tart, Day, and probably more). Joan didn't actually use his last name, because in her village, girls took their mother's last name, but we assign it to her nowadays anyway. In modern French, Jacques' surname is spelled d'Arc (the apostrophe is a late addition). However, when brought into English, translators assumed the d-[apostrophe] meant "of" like most names with that prefix, so Jeanne d'Arc became Joan of Arc, despite there not being a place called Arc for her to be of. In this cartoon, I used the spelling "Tart" for Jacques' surname, because W. S. Scott determined it to be the most authentic form of the patronymic, according to his sources. Also, it allowed me to make the joke in Panel 3, "I'm off to become a REAL tart!" Jacques is dreaming that Joan will run off to become a prostitute, and in addition to "Tart" being his surname, "tart" is also an old word for prostitute. 5. The Dream: Jacques shares a bit in common with St. Joseph, as both are hard-working men from simple towns, and both experience important dreams about their miracle children. However, while St. Joseph understands and responds to his dream with a generous yes, Jacques doesn't fully understand his dream and tries to prevent it from coming true. Back then, some women would follow armies around so they could prostitute themselves when the soldiers made camp. Many authors believe that Jacques' feared this would be Joan's fate, and that he never suspected that her true fate was to become a general of war. He told his sons he would prefer her to be drowned than for his dream to come true, probably meaning that he'd rather she die than lose her soul in the sinful life he thought he foresaw.
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teainthesnow · 9 months
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@somerandomdudelmao is giving me emotions again so time to give some back...
- - -
It’s over.
it’s finally over.
Or, he thinks, with a shuddering breath and numb agony, that it will be over soon.
So he lies there, breathing in the dust and ash, and the sour taste of all that was lost, of the embers of a dying world, filling his mouth.
It would...
It would all be okay now.
He inhales.
And tries not to be scared by what comes next.
But, vaguely, distantly, as he slips further and further into numb acceptance he feels a presence, a familiar warmth blanketing him. Warm hands touch his shoulder feeling fiercely protective but tinged with fear.
It’s okay, he whispers but he’s certain the words come about as nothing more than a senseless whisper, if they even make it out at all.
But...
It’ll be okay.
It’s time.
He’s ready for the next step.
To face his ancestors, friends, family, and brothers.
And hopefully that meant all three of them.
He exhales.
And falls into the darkness.
But the darkness parts around him.
His thoughts swirl into a blurry haze, slipping from him before he can truly comprehend them or the things around him.
All he knows is this is wrong... he shouldn’t... he thought...
Wasn’t it supposed to be over now?
Not... not this incoherent haze of a life where the only comfort his can find is in the soft fluttering traces of red and purple.
So he hides; feeling scared and alone and wondering why this is his fate, why he has been cursed to stay isolated and away from those he cares about.
He is so tired, so exhausted.
Barely clinging on to the last of his strength even though he isn’t truly sure why he does so.
There’s something whispering, begging, cheering for him to keep going.
To hold on.
Something – or perhaps someone – calling his name, voice laced with a pleading desperation.
But
all he can do
is
slip
further
down.
And then something shifts through the fog.
The world tilts on its axis.
The is a fire surrounding him, burning away the encroaching darkness that he had been so willing to accept.
No, he pleads, reaching a desperate hand outwards.
Let me go.
Please.
Let me go home.
The fire, the warmth, the two flames do not listen as they cling tightly onto him, dragging him forcefully along with them.
Please.
And then the fire vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him weak and fading once more.
But then the static clings to him, trapping him, keeping him from fading, from moving on.
There is a comforting presence within the electricity, similar to the warm flames, but slightly different.
Familiar yet somehow unfamiliar at the same time.
There is something within the sensation that makes him pause and hesitate.
All he can feel is a weird mix of worry, relief, and unwavering determination.
He almost stops fighting.
But he can’t.
This isn’t-
He isn’t home.
He needs to go home.
So he fights against the static, against the energy it gives him.
Against those soft thoughts of you’re safe, please stop fighting, let me- let us help you.
But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?
Did he really deserve peace when they weren’t here?
He just wanted to see them again.
(Even though the whispers tried to convince him that they were already there because it didn’t make sense.)
So whenever he can he fights.
He runs.
But the static, the flames, keep finding him.
Keep holding him protectively within their embrace.
(keeping him safe)
Keeping him trapped.
(keeping him alive)
Keeping him away from home.
(giving him strength to keep himself alive)
In this fog-filled limbo that his existence has become.
And then.
Finally.
Something changes.
And.
He.
Falls.
Again.
He blinks open his eyes.
Confused and disorientated and still not quite fully himself.
He feels...
Empty.
Perhaps.
Nothing but a fragile reflection of who he was, of who he will be.
Hollow.
Lonely.
And lost in the vast empty darkness.
Empty, he realises slowly through sludge filled thought, but not silent.
There’s a voice shouting in the distance.
Muffled and incoherent but definitely there.
He looks around.
Suddenly desperate.
Overcome with the desire to find the voice.
To find-
He looks down at his reflection.
But it isn’t *his* reflection.
Maybe *he’s* the reflection.
Forced to echo, to copy.
He’s yelling at himself.
...isn’t he?
But then a hand reaches through the mirror and grabs hold of his scarf.
Pulling him upwards and through the once solid surface and the voice, the familiar and unfamiliar voice, becomes clear.
Becomes understandable.
And awareness washes over him.
The ‘anger’ leaves.
All he has left is a numb confusion and a growing hope.
And then he is falling again.
He blinks.
Awareness comes back to him slowly.
His vision slowly fading back into clarity.
And his first coherent thought is to be annoyed by a constant tap, tap, tap, of a keyboard being used.
He tiredly shifts to locate the source of the noise and sees Donnie tapping away, focused solely on his task.
Then that thought processes.
To See... Donnie... tapping away?
...Donnie?
And the tiredness immediately drops away as he reaches out desperately, hopefully.
And then he falls out of the bed with a thump.
But there are hands on him, gently picking him up, embracing him, words nothing but a murmured blur as reality drips into comprehension.
It can’t...
This can’t...
He is so overwhelmed, so utterly lost, he can only sit there as Donnie fusses around him, voice tinged with anger.
No... he realises, as a smile begins to creep upon his face and tears well up in the corner of his eyes, not anger.
Worry.
But he can’t let himself relax yet.
This is too good to be true.
Is this really truly real?
“D-Donnie?” He asks voice wavering and tinged with a fear he cannot hold back.
And when Donnie (and he hopes, really desperately hopes that it is) keeps fussing he reaches forward and takes hold of a flailing hand.
It’s... it’s warm.
The tears are there again, now dripping unbidden down his face.
“You’re real.”
The wrist within his grasp is solid and warm, and strong.
“You’re real!”
Not thin and weak and rattled with tremors.
But...
“Are you?”
He tentatively asks, scared for the truth but hoping against everything for the best.
That Donnie – his brother, his beloved twin is here.
And then Donnie soothes his fears, tells him the truth, the amazing, almost unbelievable truth.
He cannot stop the tears.
Does not want to stop the tears.
This is...
This is everything he had hoped for.
And the tears that drip, drip, drip down his face are no longer tears of pain and fear and utter sadness but those of hope and joy and the understanding that this is it.
There is a warmth surrounding him.
A hug, he slowly realises.
A hug he thought he’d never receive again.
The trickle of tears becomes a torrent. He cannot hold back, nor does he want to. The relief hits him like a sledgehammer as he clings desperately to the brother he never thought he would see again.
Crying loudly and unashamedly.
This is...
He chokes back the sobs once they calm slightly.
And cracks probably the best (worse) joke he’s made in a while.
And laughter is his reward.
There is a warmth swelling within him, a calmness, and a happiness he had thought unachievable as he and his amazingly alive brother share their joy with each other once again.
And then Donnie passes out.
Gently, carefully, he sets him down, noting the rise and fall of his plastron but he still presses a cautious hand to his brothers neck.
And sighs with relief at the comforting and steady
thump
thump
thump
of a healthy heartbeat.
He exhales in relief.
It’s okay.
A weight lifts off his shoulders as he raises a hand to his own neck feeling the very proof the he too is alive and healthy.
And that is when it really truly begins to sink in.
Despite his confusion. Despite having not even the smallest idea of how he got here, of how he’s alive.
Of how Donnie is alive when even his spirit...
He takes in a soothing breath, shakes the thoughts out of his head, and focuses on the good that he can find.
Because.
It’s over
It’s finally over.
But, he pauses, as he takes in his surroundings and processes what just happened.
To breathe in the clean air.
To enjoy the steady beating of their heartbeats.
To think he’s alive, they’re both alive.
So...
Maybe...
Hopefully...
...it’s only just begun.
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ultralightpoe · 9 months
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Bejeweled - Jamie Tartt
Authors Note: I have been trying to find any sort of energy to post and get out of bed. Got so close to giving up on life itself and I'm barely back, please bare with me as I try to find my way out of my depression hole I have dug for myself everyone. I know it's been a minute but life has been kicking my ass. Be patient with me - Ultralight
Word Count: 4454
Warnings: i dont think any
Apart of my MIDNIGHTS EVENT. (Next Event is Sour by Olivia Rodrigo. Requests closed. Event following yet to be decided)
SOUR EVENT
MAIN MASTERLIST
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Enjoy!
Baby love, I think I've been a little too kind
Didn't notice you walking all over my peace of mind
In the shoes I gave you as a present
Puttin' someone first only works when you're in their top five
And by the way, I'm going out tonight
Diamonds can dull if not taken care of properly, they can accumulate dust and grime, the shine from the gem being lost amongst the age of the years. You were raised by a grandmother that taught you the most important thing a little girl could know, never ever EVER let a man dull your shine.  
She would lecture you on this as she showed you her jewelry collection, showing you all seven of her engagement rings through the years. The first had been a diamond pear cut with a silver band, given to her by the young salesman that had promised her the world from his office on wall street.
She packed her bags and took the ring the day he slept with his receptionist.
You would wear the diamond ring 10 years later when you met Jamie Tartt, and oddly enough you would be wearing it the day you found out he was cheating. 
-
Maybe it was your fault. Maybe Jamie had strayed from your bed because of you. 
Not because you were bored in bed or because you didn’t give him enough attention, no. Maybe you gave him TOO much attention, you let him forget who you were. You were a fucking diamond.
Diamond of the season as Bridgerton would say. 
You always kept your lovers on a leash, and when they strayed you proved to them just what they would be missing, but you had trusted Jamie as stupid as that was. You had been waiting for an engagement ring, getting your nails done religiously just in case you needed to take a picture. 
You stared at your nails now, as you scrolled through the twitter feed, seeing him leave her flat with lipstick on his cheek and his shirt still unbuttoned. 
Your grandmother would be so disappointed in you. You were better than this. 
And you would be. 
But you had to play your cards right. If Jamie Tartt thinks he can get away with screwing over a gem like yourself then you would just have to show him what a fool he was, and that began with a smile. 
You smiled at him when he came home, all dolled up as he lit up at the sight of you, making it seem like you hadn’t been waiting at the stairs for the sound of his keys and just naturally caught him on your way out. 
“Y/n? Love? Where are you headin’?” He asks, moving closer to you for a kiss. You kissed him back easily, this would only work if he didn’t know that you knew. 
“Just to the club with some friends.” You smile, giving him a twirl in your short dress. 
“What friends?” He mumbles casually, far too casually as his eyes roamed over you slowly. You knew his game and you knew that his casual act was far from the truth, inside he was panicking about you going out in this.
“Oh, just Brent and Jordan.” You shrug, leaning in to kiss his cheek before disappearing from sight. 
-
“You’re new here.” The stranger smiles cheekily at you as he walks up, admiring you without a second of hesitation, not even bothering to hide his eyes drifting to your chest. “I would recognize a beauty like ya’.”
“Oh I am sure you say that to all the girls.” You smile, giving him an airy look you knew would hook him quickly. It works, he gives you a lopsided grin that tells you he is ready to play your game. 
“Who’re your bodyguards over there?”  He nods his head to the direction of your friends Brent and Jordon, both of which you had been flirting with all night. 
“Oh, just some friends.”
“They don’t look like friends.”
“What’s it to you?” And there it is, the jealous look in his eyes that tells you the sex is going to be good. Hook…..Line……
“What are ya’ drinkin, lovey?” 
“Whatever you buy me.” You giggle, moving your hand to touch his elbow expertly, keeping your touch light and your smile easy. 
He blushes a bit at it, moving to the stool across from you and holding his hand out. “Your name?”
“Y/n. Yours.”
“I’m Jamie fucking Tartt.” His voice is smug, and his eyes are gleaming. This poor fool had no idea what he just got himself into. 
“And what can you do for me, Jamie?”
“I thought the sayin’ was what can I do for you?”
“Why would I ask that when I already know I can give everything.” And sinker. 
-
Best believe I'm still bejeweled
When I walk in the room
I can still make the whole place shimmer
And when I meet the band
They ask, "Do you have a man?"
I can still say, "I don't remember"
Familiarity breeds contempt
Don't put me in the basement
When I want the penthouse of your heart
Diamonds in my eyes
I polish up real, I polish up real nice
She let you try on the second engagement ring when your fingers were still too tiny to actually keep it on, laughing when you’re young eyes widened as it sparkled in front of you, amazed by the piece even if you were too young to truly understand what it meant. 
She told you the story of the second man that proposed to her, the one that owned his own business in London which is the reason she moved there in the first place, she told you how he whisked her away and how she ended up moving in with him after a month of knowing him. The way she described his apartment was nothing but luxury and the emerald necklace she showed you that went with the ring screamed money. 
You would learn the term blood money later in life. 
But then she told you about his actual wife, the one he let live in the mansion nestled in the countryside that he never spoke of while he hid mistresses away in apartments along the city promising to marry them while he bestowed jewels to them. 
She wore the ring and the necklace the day she left him, having his valet back all her suitcases into a car and driving her to the far side of the city where her one and only friend in London lived. 
You wore the set on your third date with Jamie, and then you wore it again the day he embarrassed you. 
-
The necklace and ring paired nicely with the gala gown that Rebecca and Keeley helped you pick out, both girls fawning over you the second they saw you show up to the event. 
“You look right fucking fit!” Keeley gushes, eyeing you up and down as Rebecca smiles. “A gorgeous color, and that necklace is absolutely stunning.”
“You should see the ring.” You smile, holding up your hand and letting them gawk. “Famly heirlooms darlings.”
“I don’t know if I want you or I want to be with you.” Keeley whispers, “you made my lower parts like throb-”
“Keeley!” Rebecca gasps, a laugh tearing from all three of you before a hand nestles itself on your hip. 
“Let’s head to our seats, ye love?” Jamie asks, pulling you away before you could actually answer. You were a bit irritated with him, ever since finding out he cheated a week ago you found yourself sick to look at him. 
And he hadn’t complimented you once this evening. Fucking fool. 
But you kept your mouth shut, this was the long game here. You smiled at him, and let him know how handsome he was. It would all be worth it. 
You kept reminding yourself of this during the auction, watching dozens of women bid on Danny Rojas as Keeley motioned for you to look at your phone. You ignore her at first, until she gets Roy to do it as well and you finally give in. 
K; See that goddess in the corner? Blue dress with the massive tits?
Y; Could have just said blue dress
K; She is Jamie’s date
Y; But I’m Jamie’s date
K; So is she. 
Game. Fucking. On. 
You risk one more look to the girl as Jamie is called up, allowing him to kiss your cheek quickly before waltzing himself up and standing proudly as the bidding starts. 
You let her bid back and forth with the girl in the yellow dress towards the front, wondering if yellow dress was another date of his as he gives you an odd look from the stage, drinking your champagne easily. When he gets back you catch a whiff of his cologne, the one you bought him for christmas, while he leans in. 
“Why didn’t ye bid on me, love?”
“Figured I would give another lucky lady some time with you.” You smile, leaning to rub his shoulder. He nods happily, enjoying your answer while your mind flashes back to the photos of him coming out of her apartment. 
He couldn’t even bother wiping off her lipstick from his lips and cheek. 
So when Sam goes up you raise your hand, meeting Jamie’s eyes with that same airy smile you gave him when you met, calling out “2,000 pounds”
And the look on Jamie’s face makes the moment so fucking worth it.
-
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” Jamie blurts when he walks up to your door, eyes widening as a red tint covers his neck and cheeks. “Fuck- sorry- lords name in vain and all that but I think I might just die a happy bloke right here.”
“It’s not too much?” You ask, smoothing out the sides as you try to relax your racing heart. This was the first time you were nervous for a date, this was the first time you actually wanted the date to go somewhere because Jamie Tartt was one hell of a man. 
He was sweet and caring, he held doors open for you and talked to you about football with so much passion your heart burned……and he was a god in bed. 
“Never too much, you’re like a fuckin’ Aphrodite brought to life.” He mumbles, eyes never leaving yours as he holds out his arm for you to grab onto. You admire his look then, placing your hand in the crook of his elbow as your gaze travels the tux he wore.
For a brief moment you find yourself excited at the fact that his tie matched your dress perfectly without the two of you planning it in advance. Like an omen that you were meant to be, and you can’t help but thinking that your grandmother would laugh at that statement. 
She wasn’t here, and you were too busy smiling as Jamie led you to the restaurant like you were a princess. 
-
Baby boy, I think I've been too good of a girl (too good of a girl)
Did all the extra credit, then got graded on a curve
I think it's time to teach some lessons
I made you my world (huh), have you heard? (Huh)
I can reclaim the land
And I miss you (I miss you)
But I miss sparkling (ah, hey)
The oval cut Garnet ring with the silver band came next, from the artist she met in that small apartment building. He drew her millions of times, filling his sketchbook with her dancing and posing until he was able to draw her out of memory. 
He pawned his fathers pocket watch for the ring, proposing to her in the middle of lovemaking as he demanded the stars pay her what they owe her. But then he disappeared, stopped coming home and she couldn’t find him. 
Just when she had begun wondering if he was cheating the police had knocked on the door asking if she had seen him. Turned out the pocket watch he pawned wasn’t his but his bosses, as well as the 4,000 he had stolen from the safe the same night he stole the watch. 
She told the police she was house sitting for him, and the second they were out of sight she packed and bolted with the ring. 
You wore it the night you first said I love you, and again when told him your biggest lie. 
“Oh you should have seen it, Y/n. Fuckin’ Nate had no words. We all gave him one hell of a show, glarin and just being downright nasty on the field.” Jamie brags, pacing back and forth in your kitchen as you wiped down the counters for something to do while he rambled on. 
Normally you would be hanging on to his every word, asking about it and actually giving a shit. But today? All you could think about was her. 
Was the women in the blue dress the women from the apartment? Or were they different? How many women were there? How long has he been doing this? A month, a week or years? Should you get tested for anything?
“-oy, you okay?” Jamie asks, concern laced across his face as he comes up to rub you back carefully, bending down to look in your eyes. 
“I’m fine,” You lie, nodding quickly. “Just a little sick.”
“Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” You let him, enjoying the caring side of him as he tucks you in and puts a glass of water beside your bed. He sits beside you for a moment, rubbing your cheek carefully as he watches you. “I’ll be in the living room. You’ll call me if ya need me, ya?”
“Yeah.” You nod, closing your eyes gently as he leans down to kiss your forehead, hating the way your heartbeat through your chest. 
“I love you.” He whispers. 
“I love you too.” You whisper back, feeling sick at how empty the words were, and how easy the lie slipped from your lips. 
You hadn’t planned on saying it to him that night, the dizziness of it all just got the best of you. 
Jamie had snuck you into the richmond field in the middle of the night, both of you laughing and slipping in the wet grass as you tried to play a crappy game of soccer. 
Sure your outfit was ruined but you had been smiling so much your cheeks hurt, ribs aching from laughing too much and your heart 2 seconds from exploding every time he touched you. 
By the time you both tire out, him swinging his arm around your shoulders and snatching the ball up easily while trying to catch his breath, he leads you out to the parking lot. It’s there you say it, in the dimness of the broken light, your cheeks heated from nervousness as well as the workout. 
“I think I love you.” You blurt, watching him stop quickly, whipping to look at you with wide eyes. “No. I do. I know I love you.”
A moment of silence follows and you begin to think you’ve blown it, getting ready to rush off out of pure embarrassment, when a smile cracks out on his face and he rushes forwards to kiss you passionately. 
“I love you too.” He murmurs as he cradles your jaw, lips grazing your own. 
Best believe I'm still bejeweled
When I walk in the room
I can still make the whole place shimmer
And when I meet the band
They ask, "Do you have a man?"
I can still say, "I don't remember"
The factory worker with the easy smile came next, and after 4 months of dating he popped out a black diamond ring with a black band on it, the darkest in the collection which should have shown what was too come. 
She never liked to talk about that one often, and she never let you touch it, as if the ring itself could ruin your life in an instant. 
And you truly believed it could. 
All you knew from that time in her life was that she left bloodied and battered, leaving during the day while he was at work, where she would head to a co workers flat waiting for him when he got home and trying not to cry as he cleaned the cuts. A week later she would take the pregnancy test, that was all you needed to know. 
The ring sat in the red velvet box your grandmother had put it in when she took it off, and it would stay in that box where you would not see it. Except for the two times it nearly escaped. 
“Hey Y/n?” Jamie calls from the room down the hall, drawing your attention from the project you had been working on as you wait for him to keep going, when he doesn’t you sigh out and stand to go find where he was summoning you. 
“Yes?”
“Have you seen my lucky knee pad?”
“Shouldn’t they be in your bag?” You ask, moving to check the said bag where he had laid it in your shared bed. The zipper moved easily as you began searching throughout it. 
“Do you think I would be searching the room if it was in there?” He snaps, and as he swings to glare at you his hand hits the jewelry box on your dresser, sending it tumbling down and the cap of the cursed velvet box flying, the ring sliding across the floor right in front of your foot. 
You stare at it like it’s a bomb, breathing heavy as it gleams up at you. Jamie watches for a moment before he sighs out. “Just pick it up will ya? Won’t bloody hurt you.”
You roll your eyes, ignoring the comment and turning back to the bag where you pull out the lucky knee pad, making him groan. “I swear it wasn’t there when I checked.”
“Just pick up the mess you made.” You grunt out, putting the knee pad on top of the bag and rushing out of the room to go shower. 
The day you move in with Jamie is spent with cheap dancing music that makes you both laugh and dozens of boxes to unpack. Instead of tag teaming your shared boxes in your new shared apartment you both decide to do one box at a time, working as a team. 
Because why be efficient when you are in love?
By the time he gets to the box holding your jewelry he spots the velvet box, reaching in and pulling it out before you notice. By the time you turn to see he already has the lid fully off and the ring pinched between his thumb and forefinger. 
“I don’t think I have ever seen a black diamond.” He murmurs, holding it up to the light as you chuck a pillow at his face. It hits him square on and he gives you an incredulous look as you begin pointing at the ring. 
“Put that thing back in the box, hide it deep in the jewelry box and go wash your hands!” You order, making him blink in shock before he does as told, coming back with wet hands and a small smile. 
“I know it sounds crazy but-”
“I have superstitions too.” He shrugs, moving closer to kiss you softly. “That ring was fucking ugly anyways.”
Familiarity breeds contempt
Don't put me in the basement
When I want the penthouse of your heart
Diamonds in my eyes
I polish up real, I polish up real nice
The pink diamond came from a mistake she wasn’t willing to admit. 
Moments of panic and loneliness have a way of making humans confuse many things for love, she had shown up bruised and broken and she thought her coworker had mended her. 
He was kind, and he was gentle. They got along well and he was very supportive of her keeping the child in the pregnancy. He was safe…..but they weren’t in love. 
She tells you of the conversation she had with him, 3 months pregnant and wearing an engagement ring. They talked about how they went too fast, she told him she wanted to be a mother first and foremost. 
They said goodbye, he told her she could keep the ring. 
He would later be the baby's godfather, and he visited every christmas. 
There were two christmases that actually mattered. 
Jamie missed Christmas dinner with your family that year, not that you minded since all you had been silently hoping for was a break. Just a little longer…. You reminded yourself. The long game. 
But as you marched up the path to your parents home you found yourself breathing out a sigh of relief, home. Home was right here and you would be safe to show your pain. 
Your great uncle is the first to notice said pain, nodding you over to talk to you. 
“You’re grandmother raised you right,” He tells you. “And if she were here she would not let you stand to be in pain.”
“I know.” You mumble back, nodding your head quickly. “I’m working on it.”
The year you brought Jamie home for Christmas was a year full of chaos, one where you had been rushing around in a panic, nervous and anxious about your family not liking him. And it had all gone wrong so far. 
The ham was burnt and the tree managed to catch on fire. Both your bags had been lost in transit so you both were forced into the ugliest sweaters you had seen and you thought Jamie would bolt. 
But he merely grabs your hands softly to stop your pacing, kissing your knuckles and peering up at you. “We’ll be alright, yeah?”
“Yeah.” You nod, smiling back at him as your great uncle walks in, giving you a nod of approval when Jamie can’t see. You ease up then, you had nothing to worry about, Jamie would win them over no problem. 
Sapphire tears on my face
Sadness became my whole sky
But some guy said my aura's moonstone
Just 'cause he was high
The 6th ring had been a simple silver band given to her by the neighbor that claimed she was aphrodite reborn. They had talked 3 times before he gave her the ring and though it never actually counted as a proposal she claimed it did since he had said “I’ll get you the diamond when I prove to you we’re meant to be.”
He lost interest after 3 weeks, she didn’t mind. 
You always used to wear the band when you wanted a good laugh, but as of recently you couldn’t find any humor in it as you left it in the box.  You were beginning to lose energy for all happiness in general. 
And we're dancin' all night
And you can try to change my mind
But you might have to wait in line
What's a girl gonna do?
A diamond's gotta shine
The seventh and final engagement ring had been given to her by a nervous accountant who acted like she had torn the stars from the sky. He was a shy and nervous man, blushed everytime she looked at him, but there had been a spark like no other.  This would be the first ring she would accept with her future planned out, no way of living without him. This had been her lovematch. 
It had been sapphire, her birthstone. She had worn it for three months. 
You wore it the day you met his mistress. 
The apartment was quite nice, and as you took a look around you couldn’t help the anxiety that built through you as she watched you from the couch. 
“He told me he was leaving you.”
“Of course he did.”
“He said neither of you were happy.”
“Not anymore.” You smile, everything in you easing. “But it’s almost over.”
 - 
Best believe I'm still bejeweled
When I walk in the room
I can still make the whole place shimmer (shimmer)
And when I meet the band
They ask, "Do you have a man?"
The last and final ring in the collection hadn’t been an engagement ring, rather a wedding ring. Your grandmother had worn it since the day she got it to the day she died, passing it down to you.  A simple pearl ring that stopped your breath short every time. 
She wore it the day she gave birth to your mother, claiming it gave her strength. She wore it the day of your grandfather's funeral and your mothers as well. 
You wore it the day of her funeral and had been saving it ever since. This would be the ring you wore the day you decided to leave him. 
You waited up, your biggest mistake of it all since you already knew he wouldn’t be home for awhile. 
He would claim it was the game, you would know the truth, he would not feel bad about lying to your face. 
You twisted your grandmother's ring on your finger. It was time. 
 - 
I can still say, "I don't remember"
Familiarity breeds contempt
Don't put me in the basement
When I want the penthouse of your heart
Diamonds in my eyes
I polish up real (nice), I polish up real nice
He proposed with a ruby ring, after years of waiting and it finally happened. You took the ring, kissed him softly and a week later you left a letter on the table explaining it all as you left. You took your clothes and jewelry with you, leaving the pain behind with him. 
You were a fucking jewel, this he would not forget
- . 
And we're dancin' all night
And you can try to change my mind
But you might have to wait in line
What's a girl gonna do? What's a girl gonna do?
I polish up nice
Best believe I'm still bejeweled
When I walk in the room
I can still make the whole place shimmer
You wore your grandmother's wedding pearl wedding ring on your left hand the day you gave birth, and on your right held the engagement ring Jamie had given you. 
When your daughter was old enough you would show her your collection, telling her your grandmother's history all the way up to the ruby ring, where you would tell your own story, all the while wearing the ring you bought yourself, with the dahlia diamond. 
You were a jewel, and just as your grandmother taught you…..never ever EVER let a man dull your shine.
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doppel-tournament · 3 days
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SEMI FINALS, Part 1
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snouse · 1 year
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funnie little bugsnak from my dreams :)
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tinyauratank · 4 months
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Welcome to my first attempt at making a gif! Weeee!! I'm so excited! Thanks to @cal-kestis for an amazing tutorial! Check it out here.
I know that I need to make more adjustments and such. But I'm really happy to be able to figure out how to do this now.
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zorionbbq · 9 months
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my piece for BETWEEN HEISTS: A Lupin III Fan Collection!! :^]]
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manekinoodle · 1 year
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john and caine’s wedding part 2/2 except they have wedding crashers. (part 1 here!)
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stuck-in-jelly · 15 days
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Every now and then I remember the fact that Callum and Ezran never got to have a proper funeral for their father and how by the time everything got settled they only had a empty grave since Viren prematurely burned Harrow’s body
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1-800-pogosticks · 1 year
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So I’ve been doing a compare/contrast after each episode and I just want to say, conclusively, And I could be biased. We are funnier here
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anyway here’s the chart for reactions to The Finale from what I’ve seen so far
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fullmoonfireball · 1 year
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sleepy suggested Mags calling Mora his “little apple tart” to me last night and i haven’t been able to stop thinking about it
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teainthesnow · 3 months
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me using the @tmntaucompetition as an excuse to draw amw leo in a pirate getup? it's more likely than it seems!
Please Vote for At My Worst when the polls start and i shall provide more fun fashion propaganda!
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Finally, put these bad boys up, next to my random art I made from a page from a book and a dried-out butterfly. Yes, they are in my "taxidermy inspo corner", just insects and the one bat (which I found dead, so don't worry).
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I love the vibes of it all now to keep me inspired to keep studying and eventually get to taxidermy studies to apply for my local shop apprenticeship! I meant to share this the day i put them up, alas, life has been goin and goin these days, i'm just proud i put these up as a treat! <3 Not it lowkey being a TSH and LM crossover moment because i put the little free quote card that came with my "cubitum eamus" bracelet. Also, that little black dictionary next to my sage is Latin teehehehehe.
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Also, finally put up my Goldfinch picture too!
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alas, i was trying to find the post of the person i bought this from and couldn't, but i will next time i have some time to spare which probs won't be for a while tbh.
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doppel-tournament · 14 days
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QUARTER FINALS, Part 5
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