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lafcadiosadventures · 1 year

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Madame Putiphar Readalong. Book One, Chapter Five:

Debby has gone to bed fully dressed, wakes up at 1 o’clock in the morning, leaves for the forest through the hardest route, taking pains to avoid being followed. Her state of mind is still shaken, given how she constantly feels like she is being followed, only to find nothing when she turns. It is true that the strange shadows and sounds in the woods confuse our senses at night, but is it really her perception playing tricks on her?

Also within: gender non conforming couples, hair and fashion as resistance to imperialism, marriage vows, and Debby’s other half.

Debby hears an ancient melody. It’s her Patrick’s voice. Yet, she is cautious, reaches their meeting point and yells out their conveined password: “To be!” to which Patrick replies: “Or not to be!” (iconic)

The catholics are playfully blasphemous, Pat calls her “Deborah full of grace and punctuality”, to which she replies she is “blessed among all women” because her Lord is with her. Love is their religion.

Debby regrets bringing bad news to Patrick, who seems so happy, but Patrick actually already knows what has been happening in the Castle. Lady Cockermouth has already informed him of it while trying to ward him off. In an effort to put him in his place, the countess has insulted him, tutoyé’d him and called him “Pat”. Later Lord Cockermouth himself has hit him on the forehead with his riding crop. Debby reveals her bruised shoulder to him, they both blame themselves for the other’s pain and misfortune. But like Debby says, their fates are entwined, If one of the two’s fates is fatal, it will surely drag the other to a fatal end.

Patrick mourns their careless days. The time for frolicking and herborizing has passed. The time has come to take action and fight for their freedom. Patrick’s speech is of course political. The furrow between them has been dug by the aristocracy. Debby is “one of theirs”, and Patrick is “one of the people”. And adulthood complicates it all. When they were children class seemed to matter less. Debby’s uterus and children are also property of the aristocracy. As adults, Patrick’s caresses become an outrage and a stain, a potential damage to Deborah’s biological capital that must be preserved for her future husband.

Patrick reflects that although they are still teens, they will have to live on memories as old couples do: during Cockermouth’s stay in the colonies he was allowed to love her, study from her books, herborize with her, polemize and quarrel, make controversies on botanical classifications (I am sorry but I love this so much, it goes beyond the romantic trope of linking the lovers with nature, they are huge nerds, and I adore them) learning the pharmaceutical properties of the local plants, planting and caring for some of them together... loving each other, loving their country, its soil, its vegetation. But the Aristocracy has dug the furrow between them, separating them “like Romulus from Remus”, and like for Remus himself, crossing back to Romulus means Death. But Debby corrects him, they are both deep in the furrow and must climb out of it together.

Debby contemplates Patrick, who has started walking up and down under the moonlight, hard at thought. He looks like a spectre, or like the unavoidable picturesque traveller added for scale in landscape paintings. (any time is a good time to make a dig at artistic clichés)

The narrator describes Patrick so we can gaze at him along with Debby. He is tall, blond, has fine features (the description is vague enough to allow for reader input) The only thing that marked him as a plebeian was a lacking of rude shamelessness. He wore simple clothes, resembling the traditional costume of the area. His hair was arranged in glibs, traditional irish matted braids, usually paired with a shaved nape and undercuts, and he wore a crommeal moustache. (a traditional Irish moustache, usually paired with a beard, outlawed by English colonisers who at one point forbade anyone who did not speak English or had hair above their lips inside the city walls.)

Patrick makes quite a contrast in these garments and hair styles. Even to his compatriots, who complied to English fashions and took him for a madman.

But the narrator tells us Patrick had consciously decided to become a living monument to his beloved elders, to times long gone.

Only Debby appreciates this revindication through dress and hair, and she calls him her cooleen, an already old-fashioned word for beloved. (just like the word calignero in provençal, says Borel, bringing the uniformization of language debate back to France)

Borel uses language, fashion and hair to reflect on cultural colonization. He considers weekly fashions trivial fads for sheep to follow. However, folkloric and indigenous fashions are always meaningful, and that is why colonizers take pains to forbid them, to uniformize, to modernize and civilize (albeit only in appearance, while keeping the colonized in a subjugated position, with only a patina of modernity, modern looking vassals and/or clients)

I hear echoes of Montaigne’s Des cannibales in this tirade by the narrator. Montaige quotes Claudianus: “The only real victory is that which forces the enemy to admit its defeat”. He talks of conquests that are shameful for the tyrants. They can only win in tangible force, but the conquered remain undefeated in their spirits. Borel talks here of captive peoples, who are nevertheless free in spirit because they maintain their dress and refuse the colonizer’s language (this is of course not a matter of choice, you cannot blame a people for their cultural genocide when the stakes are so high and the forces so unbalanced. Also, cultural genocide is never, never total and absolute. Something always endures, in covert, hybrid ways...) Language and dress, Borel claims, are the key way in which the colonized are assimilated to the colonizers. It seems naif, reductionist. But he is referring to -attempts of- acculturation, cultural colonization, as current today as ever. From first world powers exporting their mass media everywhere, to uniformization of language and customs applied from within country borders. The idea is to bit by bit deprive the colonized of their autoctonous means of expression. Clothing styles, language, movies, music, art and literature, are all borrowed from the aspiring masters. They emit everything that’s good, enjoyable, trendy and valuable. Dressing like the colonizer, speaking its language, creates a false sense of fraternity between colonizer and colonial.

Another evocation of Montaigne. Borel: “the Irish still dream of insurrection, even when their neck is under their enemy’s foot”. Montaigne: “(...)“if you fall to the ground fight on your knees.” (Seneca) (...) He who while exhaling his last breath stares still into his enemy’s eyes with disdain and pride, that one falls defeated, not by us, but by Bad Fortune; dead maybe, but unbeaten.”

---

I have been often surprised by how Borel rejects a lot of the common sense of his days. Here he declares that receiving feminine education was actually good for Patrick. (we are talking of a man who would not have recieved any other education in the first place, but there’s more than that to it. Borel alludes to culturaly assigned gender roles based on biology)(you can skip the next 3 paragraphs about femenine education in europe in the 18th c)

[Feminine education was lesser than that of men in most cases. Although education varied a lot from place to place and from social classes, girls were taught to read and write and mathematics in the 1700’s, but usually did not learn history, philosophy or latin. (i am basing myself on Diderot’s “je” in Rameau’s Nephew and his biography by P.N. Furbank)(but I wish I was familiar enough to go into the Wolstonecraft vs Rousseau debate on Rousseau’s Émile) they also learned dancing, playing the piano, singing, drawing, sewing, reading, some kind of etiquette too. Diderot claims teaching his daughter mathematics, history and philosophy was seen as an excentricity, common sense said it was unnecessary, even bad for women to know more than what they needed. Even Diderot’s wife was against this unconventional education for their daughter.

Rousseau's Émile starts promisingly enough claiming both boys and girls are children, and that it's absurd to have two names for creatures who resemble each other so much. But that degenerates soon enough. He soon lays a strong distinction on how boy’s and girl’s educations should be: women only need enought strength to do everything gracefully. "The exaggeration of feminine delicacy leads to effeminacy in men. Women should not be strong like men but for them, so that their sons may be strong."

An earlier author like La Barre, pleas for equal education for women, claims giving them equal education would reinvigorate the nation. (and Diderot talks of how France, Europe is willingly depriving itself of potential geniuses when denying equal education to women. Even Rousseau admits the few women allowed to make careers have never failed to shine and excel in their fields...)]

But Borel means here gender roles as well. Patrick was educated in etiquette and enunciation as Debby, so he speaks like a girl and maybe gesticulates like one too. He spoke with grace and elegance, and had become discreet. His appearance, percieved as wild, was very much in contrast with very graceful, delicate, effeminate manners. And for Borel this is a positive. In the same way that Debby’s company and education have effeminated Patrick, Patrick’s masculinity has also influenced Debby’s gender presentation, making her a bit masculine and that is also extremely positive in this book.

[This seems to allude to the perfect androgyne couple trope so beloved by Romantics -I’ve seen this a lot in Balzac who takes this from Swedenborg, who might have been inspired by Aristophanes humorous explanation of the origin of love in Plato’s Symposium/the Banquet? -> (soulmates exist because the primitive humans were dual beings. We had no backs, we were a single being conformed of two people blended in one. Aristophanes explains sexual orientations claiming the dual beings were conformed by two women, two men or a woman and a man. But the gods had them separated because these primigenian humans were too strong. So that’s why we are born alone nowadays, forced to search for our half which might be anywhere in the globe.)]

Their characters are described as complementary, Debby is passionate and impulsive, Patrick is usually calm and reflective. This is not attributed to an essencialism (!) these aren’t any intrinsic feminine and masculine qualities. They simply have what the other needs, just like Aristophanes’ proto-humans. Their opposition is also taken to their physical features. Debby has dark skin, black eyes, eyebrows and hair. The difference is also taken to the hair styling. Debby has to be proper and wear her hair tied up, ribboned and powdered.

But they have one trait in common: they both dream and are hungry for adventures.

[(tick “comparison to a sculpture in the Romanticism bingo card”: Patrick turns to Debby who is looking just like a funereal monument by Canova. My edition informs me Canova was first hailed as a hero by the Romantics, but later on dropped because his work was considered too cold and static)(his most iconic work might be his Cupid and Psyche which is very neoclassical but graceful and light, really pretty)(not a funereal monument but this Maddalena penitente seems really fitting, also adjacent to romantic interests and themes)]

Patrick resolves to leave alone. He doesn’t want to tear Debby away from her status and confort without being able to offer her stability. He suggests France, a country of which he has a very idealized, rosy eyed image. He thinks irishmen are loved and well received there. Especially if they intend to work as priests or soldiers. So Patrick proposes to leave first, get a job and have Debby join him once it’s safe. She refuses. She not only cannot bear the idea of being separated, but also has the imperative reason that is the final suitor her father expects her to marry under pain of being sent to a correction facility for women in England. She literally needs to leave now. So they agree to leave together. For France. Debby also idealizes France (we will see if our author does? Does he share the same exalted feelings for his nation we can find in authors like Balzac, Hugo, Diderot, who while being extremely critical, can also write in all earnestness that Paris is the brain of France and France is the Brain of the World? We shall see what kind of future France, royalist France has stored for our protagonists)

They agree to leave in the distraction of Cockermouth birthday party, at midnight. They kneel and exchange vows that are both catholic and pagan, their witnesses are God, Nature, Earth and the Heavens. Debby gives Phadruig her grandfather’s ring. They both thank the Desolate lands for having lent them so many times their discreet shadows. Their moans will never disturb them any longer. They blend into a violent embrace, they do not notice where they are standing any more until they feel the water of the torrent has already reached their knees. This peril only could break the spell that possessed them.

When returning to the Castle Debby once again has the impression she is being followed. But this time she almost certainly is. She looses her shawl, when she turns to pick it up, the shawl is gone. She hears a shot and screams out. Her fear is confirmed: the postern gate she had locked before leaving was now open.

#madame putiphar #long post #text post

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iamyoursimper · 2 years

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I'm finally back baby! Sorry for the long wait y'all

Octavinelle edition ✨

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto 🐙

2 kids ( girl, boy)

The eldest has azul's cool light-gray, hip-length, soft and wavy hair, with a black hairband on top of her head. Her eyes are a caramel brown color. A small beauty mark rests below her lip on the left side of her face. She almost always wears her rectangular half rim glasses with a gray frame. She is a tall, fair-skinned young lady, with a modest smile and calculating gaze.

The youngest has Mc's/Yuu's black, short, neat, side swept hair, with a cool light-gray tint color below. A small beauty mark rests below his lip on the left side of his face. He is a tall, fair-skinned young man with a warm and polite smile. He is often seen helping his sister expand her " business ".

Jade Leech 🦈 ( Plz bear with me)

5 kids ( girl, triplet boys, girl)

The eldest has jades teal,short,pixie cut hair, with black strands at the tip of her hair. She has bright yellow eyes. She usually wears one elegant colored jade and silver flowered ear clip with three silver and jade ovaloid dangling off of it, on her right ear. She is a fair-skinned young lady, with a height considerably taller than her other peers. She usually has a polite and gentle smile. Her teeth, when shown , are sharp. She is usually seen gathering herbs ans mushrooms.

The second child [ triplet a ] has Mc's/Yuu's black, armpit length hair, with teal highlights hair tip, long curtain style bangs that fall over his face . His hair is tied into a low ponytail. He has nut-brown eyes. His appearance mirrors that of his triplet brothers . He usually wears one lip to ear cuff chain on his right ear, along with some spiky helix piercings, and hollow circle ear pierces. Along with an idustrial key design chain piercing, several hoop earrings , a moon shaped piercing on the tragus, and a pearl piercing on the conch on his left ear. He usually wears a chain ring bracelet on his left hand. His eyes angle upwards, he is a fair-skinned young man, with a height considerably taller than his other peers. He usually has a polite smile on his face. His teeth, when shown , are sharp. He is usually seen cleaning his brothers messes.

The third child [ triplet b ] has Mc's/Yuu's black, neck-length, neat, nape hidden undercut, with teal highlights, two long, side-parted , side bangs. He has a short, straight-cut , messy bangs. All his hair is gathered in the mid-section part of his head. His eyes are a complete heterochromia , with his right eye being bright yellow, and his left eye being nut-brown. His appearance mirrors that of his triplet brothers. He usually wears one dangling red and blue-green earring on his right ear. His eyes angle upwards, he is a fair-skinned young man, with a height considerably taller than his other peers. He is seen with a bright and mischievous smile. His teeth, when shown, are very sharp.

The fourth child [ triplet c ] has Mc's/Yuu's black, neck-length, neat, nape hidden undercut, with teal highlights, two long, side-parted , side bangs. He has a short, straight-cut , messy bangs. All his hair is gathered in the mid-section part of his head. His eyes are a complete heterochromia , with his left eye being bright yellow, and his right eye being nut-brown. His appearance mirrors that of his triplet brothers. He usually wears one dangling red and blue-green earring on his left ear. His eyes angle upwards, he is a fair-skinned young man, with a height considerably taller than his other peers. He is shown with a friendly and mischievous smile. His teeth, when shown, are very sharp. He is usually seen beating duelling students that has sparked his interest .

The youngest has jades teal, bra-strap length, wavy and silky bouncy hair. Average length bangs, and two long side-parted side bangs with a streak of dark-gray hair. Her hair is tied into a two low ponytails, with two big black ribbons tied to them. She has bright amber eyes. She usually wears one cute and stylish wollen beret on top of her head . She is a fair-skinned young lady, with a height considerably taller than her other peers. She usually wears a cute and polite smile. Her teeth, when shown, are very sharp.

Floyd Leech 🦈

3 kids ( twin girls, boy)

The eldest [twin a ] has Floyd's teal, mid-length, silky and wavy, loose side dutch/french side braided hair, with a small black ribbon attach to it. Average length bangs, and two, long side-parted bangs, with a streak of dark-gray hair. She has bright yellow eyes. She usually wears one of her sisters homemade seashell bracelet on her left hand. She is a fair-skinned young lady, with a height considerably taller than her peers. She is usually seen with a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

The second child [ twin b ] has Floyd's teal, mid-length, silky and wavy hair, and has the mid portion of her hair loosely braided and tied together with a black ribbon. Average length bangs, and two, long side-parted bangs, with a streak of dark-gray hair. She has bright yellow eyes. She usually wears one of her sisters homemade seashell bracelet on her right hand. She is a fair-skinned young lady, with a height considerably taller than her peers. She is usually seen with a wide, sharp-toothed grin.

The youngest has Mc's/Yuu's black, short, and fluffy hair. Average length bangs , the hair closer to his neck fades into a lighter teal. He has bright yellow eyes. He usually wears a spiky black collar choker . His eyes angle downwards , he is a fair-skinned young man, with a height considerably taller than his peers. He is usually seen with a polite and calming smile. His teeth, when shown, are very sharp.

#octavinelle #mc/yuu #twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #jade Leech #floyd leech #azul x yuu #jade x yuu #floyd x yuu #twst wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu #twst #twst azul #twst floyd #twst jade #twisted oc #twisted wonderland yuu/mc

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lovinkiri · 4 years

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Kirishima, Bakugou, Dabi, and Midoriya with short hair <3

@queensynderella You wanted to know, right?

Summary: You are in a prank war with your boyfriend. Your boyfriend pulls the ultimate prank, knowing how much you loved his long hair.

Warning: Just fluff stuff, you know.

Bakugou

You were on the couch, reading through a Tumblr account's feed. "Wow, Allie's swimming in Keigos." You mumbled.

You didn't notice your husband, Katsuki Bakugou, walk in. He couldn't help, but grin. Look at you, so happy. So at peace. So... Unsuspecting.

He took notice of your distracted state and snuck around the couch, right behind you.

He leaned down and whispered. "No 'Welcome home' for your husband?"

You jumped, but immediately recognized it at your lover's voice. "Katsuki-?" You tilted your head back, only to be silenced with his lips. And as the kiss continued, got more heated, you couldn't help but curl your hands in his hair, right over the nape of his neck like usual. Or.. Try.

You gasped and quickly pulled away, staring at Katsuki's new haircut. "Suki, what the hell happened happened to your hair?" You exclaimed. His grin only widened.

"Guess it'll be a bit of a pain grabbing my hair, huh? That's for pantsing me in front of Kirishima!" He grinned and walked away.

"Wait! That's not fair, Katsuki!"

Midoriya

You stood in the kitchen, cooking dinner for your husband Izuku Midoriya.

You heard the door open and close. "Darling?" He called. "In the kitchen!" You smiled, not looking from the stove.

Soon, his arms were around your waist, hugging you from behind. He kissed your temple, then your cheek, then he started to kiss that sensitive spot on your neck.

You turned off the stove and closed your eyes, head tilting to give him more access. His tongue pressed against your neck before nipping at it. You reached your hands up to the back of his neck, your hand sliding up and curling into your husband's.. cut hair?

You gently pushed him back before turning around. "Whoa, whoa, whoa! Your hair! You cut it?" Your eyes widened. He smiled and nodded. "Yeah.. Sorry, but you hid my underwear, right?"

He kissed your pout away and chuckled softly.

Kirishima

You went to your boyfriend's hero agency to surprise him with cookies you had baked.. with pepper. It was perfect.

Walking into his office, you gave the best smile you could... Which quickly dropped, along with the cookies. "Sharky! Your hair!" You ran over and ran your fingers through his hair. He grinned. "What's wrong? Oh this? This is for that bucket of water."

You huffed, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but you couldn't. Sure, it was just an undercut. But you wanted to run your fingers through a l l of his soft hair. To be able to feel his hair when your trail your hand from his neck to yank his head back.

He walked over to the cookies and picked one up, inspecting it before sneezing. "... Pepper, huh? Looks like this hair already saved me."

You huffed, pouting as you both cleaned up the cookies.

Dabi

It was late. You were standing at a streetlight, waiting for your boyfriend to show up. Dabi wasn't late, no. It was just you panicking about being late that got you there early.

Tonight was the night you'd end your prank war. You were pretty sure you'd won after the whole getting him hard before the robbery thing.

You hear someone chuckle. "Hey, pretty lady. Waitin' on someone? It's awfully dark." You turn your head to look to your boyfriend. At first, nothing seemed off. You smiled, walked, cupped his cheeks, and pulled him down for a kiss. You were just happy to see him.

Then you ran your hand up and they tangled in.. Nothing?

You pulled away and stared in shock. An undercut. And you immediately knew this was his prank. You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sexy, Dabi. But evil."

He only grinned and chuckled out. "You expect anything less? I know how much you love a full head of hair, to grab at any angle." He held your hips and pulled you closer.

You huffed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "How am I supposed to pull it now?"

He smirked. "Oh please. There's still hair to grab, babygirl. I could cut more-" You quickly cut him off. "No. You win. Just leave me the remains."

He laughed and pulled away, grabbing your hand. "C'mon, there's a nice view I wanna show you." He continues to walk as you stare at his hair longingly.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha kirishima #dabi bnha #katsuki bakugo #eijirou kirishima #izuku mydoria #deku x reader #x reader

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tsukkinami · 4 years

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clever-tongued

fandom: The Last Kingdom (TV)

pairing: aethelflaed / aldhelm

rating: Explicit

chapters: 1/1

read on ao3 here

The evening started innocently enough—the quiet of her bedroom, a mahogany lounge lined in sheepskin, wine poured halfway to the top before rippling with the echo of colliding goblets. Aldhelm seemed weary, distracted, and Aethelflaed found she could not blame him. Who could? The burden of knowledge is a heavy one, encumbering when padded with secrets, and the man had been yoked by loyalty to Mercia through her husband for a long while. But Aldhelm is good at his job. He had always been tight-lipped and clever-tongued.

The candlelight flickers once, twice. Aethelflaed first begins to feel the hum of her alcohol running just beneath her skin, and it’s not too much. She laughs at something, spoken hushed between them, and it’s a bubble rising in her chest that bursts. Aldhelm smiles, tries to hide it by focusing his gaze to the floor between his planted feet, but Aethelflaed leans into him to pull him close, to draw him into the warmth of her small delight. She says something back, a quick retort, and his laugh mirrors hers.

And then the laughter fades into silence, into curious flicks of the eye to noses, lips, planes of cheeks. Aethelflaed never realized that gold was spun into Aldhelm’s dark hair, that his eyes held storms and his brow arched to the right, like hers.

I want you to kiss me. She had not meant to say it outloud.

There’s a strangeness in the moment, like being plucked from time itself. Aldhelm is still, lips parted to reply, to act, to promise. No thought demands the action of Aethelflaed moving her hand to rest upon his, but she does so regardless, pink fingertips brushing against the hem of his blue linen sleeve and curling. It is an anchor, a touchstone, and it draws Aldhelm’s eyes away from hers for a moment, to assure himself that the words she had spoken were true.

“Lady, I cannot.”

It’s a push and pull, a calculated move which Aethelflaed can see him forming a plan around in his mind. He always thought two steps ahead, strategic and cautious. Oft she’d find herself thinking in stride, but tonight her patience was not held for games.

“Why?”

Her voice is as quiet as the flutter of her eyelashes, when her gaze falls from him to the small space between them, growing smaller with the passing seconds. She watches his eyes do the same, watches his mind struggle to keep up with the moments ticking by.

“I fear what a kiss becomes.” His hand twitches, turns over in her palm, to hold it, to run his thumb over the peaks and valleys of her knuckles. “I fear I am not worthy.”

His hand is soft on hers, his presence warm and comforting. He’d saved her life, time and time again, even when it seemed not in danger. The tears she had cried into his shoulder number too many to count. Aethelflaed has no fear.

“Then let me prove you wrong.”

She grants him no quarter, no time to think, to retreat. Her body moves forward, curving into his embrace, and her mouth finds him, even in the low light, with trained ease. His stubble scratches at the corners of her lips, the underside of her nose. He smells of pine and the wine they shared, and when she breathes in, he is all she knows.

For all his hesitation, Aldhelm does not fight, but responds with her enthusiasm, blended with his own long-suppressed desire. He runs that clever tongue along her bottom lip, lets her guide his hands to her waist as she presses herself against him. The heat at her core rises to simmer against her skin, to set them both alight at every point of contact. He seems not to mind being burned.

The heat grows, amplified by their closeness, and soon Aethelflaed is shrugging out of her dress, a red velvet affair which clings stubbornly to her body. Without a word or a pause, Aldhelm brings his deft hands to her collar and lets his fingers stutter across her pale skin, slipping her arms from the confines of the garment. She snatches one of his palms from her shoulder and draws it to her breast, body lurching as he molds his touch to supple skin. When she moves, upsetting their rhythm, he breaks away from their kiss, sealing his lips now to her pulse point and sucking a dark red brand against it. His lips drag, gentle and purposeful, down the length of her neck and pause to rest inside her clavicle, kissing her freckles in the pattern of a constellation.

Despite the heat, Aethelflaed shivers, eyes shivering closed in kind, and takes a gasping breath between her lips as her fingers trail up his arms to his neck. The binds of Aldhelm’s shirt are loosed with precision, and soon she is spanning her palms across his chest with possessive desperation, nails grazing across his skin in an unspoken promise to him that by night’s end, neither one of them would go unmarked.

He hums into her skin, spurred by her ministrations, and in a motion as quick as thought, he reaches around her waist and draws her up into his lap. The sheepskin is soft against her knees as she braces her hands on his shoulders and captures him between her thighs, locks of her hair falling against his ears when she kisses the top of his head. His arms curl around her back to pull her flush against him, and his mouth worships her heart, her breasts, until she can be silent no longer, her moan echoing about the room as she tilts her head back to let it slide from her throat.

“Is there still fear in your heart?” she whispers into his hair once she cranes her head back down. Aldhelm pauses, peering up at her in the same way a priest peers to the heavens, reverence only faintly undercut by lust, a darkening thunderhead in his eyes. Never before in her life has Aethelflaed so badly wanted to be caught in a storm.

“For you, my Lady—always.”

And with that, he resumes, efforts redoubled; whether it is to draw more noise from her lips or for his own pleasure, Aethelflaed does not know. She does not care. Her hips cant against him when his hands wander to the soft plush of her belly, tracing the marks of childbirth that line her thighs.

“I fear what you do to me,” he whispers as she pulls his shirt over his head, hair mussed when she twines her fingers through it. He plucks at the fabric gathered at her hips before diving beneath, exploring her searing heat. “I fear what I become for you.”

His nose bumps the lobe of her ear as his fingers breach her, eased by her arousal. Air hisses through her teeth as his wrist flexes to move his fingers inside of her, accompanied not by pain but by surprise and feverish anticipation. She moves her hips in time to assure him of his actions, moaning into his neck between uncoordinated kisses.

“I fear what you could do to my heart if you realized just how much of it belongs to you.”

In a flurry, she tears his face from her nape and bruises his lips with hers, gasping against his mouth as his fingers quicken their pace. The flat of his thumb rubs against her clit with pinpoint accuracy, and she cries as fire ignites inside her blood, tightening fast around his fingers and rocking against them as the flames lick her from head to toe. She barely has time to let the air return to her lungs before Aldhelm is lifting her upright, careful to keep her steady.

The rest of her dress falls to her feet, and she steps backwards out of it, glued to him still as he guides her to her bed and lays her gently down. He takes a knee at the foot of it once he tugs his boots from his feet and his breeches from his legs. Aethelflaed is still awash in the glow of pleasure when she feels his hands running up the underside of her thighs, hooking them over his shoulders as he inches her closer to his face.

“My blood runs hot for you, Lady,” she hears him say, and props herself up on her elbows to peer in awe down at him. “If I could—”

“Aldhelm, yes,” she cuts him off, grabbing a fistful of his hair. She knows his intentions already, and the mere thought makes her skin jump. “Please, I cannot—oh!”

The feeling is so different than what she expected it to be. It is hot to hot, slick to slick, an alien sensation which makes her angry—angry—not to have felt before tonight. It seizes her for a long moment, draws all air from her chest and thoughts from her mind as Aldhelm drags his clever tongue between her wet folds, lily soft and trembling with residual waves of shock.

Her neck cranes backward, the crown of her head brushing the pillows beneath as she lets out a long groan, bucking against his mouth and twitching when his facial hair scratches the delicate skin around her core. Aldhelm is relentlessly delicate, mouth moving with practiced form, and if Aethelflaed did not know him better, she would think him an expert at his craft. It is not long before she is all but clay beneath him, shaped to him and pliant to every scorching touch he graces her with, and not much longer after that before she is rutting against his tongue in small, febrile movements, chasing after the fire in her gut with him as a guide.

When he hums his pleasure of the moment, the feeling of her around him, all-consuming, the lady of Mercia loses her head, stars soaring across her vision as she trembles with her second shockwave of release that night. Her back arches out of her control, fingernails scratching against his hair as she pulls him close, and never once does he relent or complain. He has done now twiceover what no one else could ever do.

Aldhelm waits for her to quiet, to still, before planting kisses on her thighs, her hips, her belly, finally to her mouth. Her slick is heady and intoxicating on his tongue, and when it’s mixed with his taste, not the finest wine can compare.

“Do you still believe yourself unworthy?” she murmurs once he pulls away, body slotting neatly between her legs. She feels his arousal rub against her wetness and she brushes up into it, eager, despite the tenderness at her center and the tiredness in her veins, to continue their escapades. He gazes at her with the highest adoration, lips quirking into an easy smile.

“Lady, I have not yet begun to prove myself,” he vows, and Aethelflaed’s nostrils flare as heat does the same down her spine.

“Then you’d best start now.”

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petalsbloomed-a · 4 years

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VERY LONG CHARACTER SURVEY !! RULES. repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck ! TAGGED. stolen !!! TAGGING. anyone who wants to do this tbh cuz this is long as shit and i dont want anyone to do this who might not be able to aljdhfskjdhkj

BASICS. FULL NAME : galo thymos NICKNAME : himbo, idiot, rookie, newbie, #1 firefighting idiot AGE : 21 BIRTHDAY : june 30 ETHNIC GROUP : japanese (+ korean / western european) NATIONALITY : american LANGUAGE / S : english / japanese / studied french and spanish SEXUAL ORIENTATION : demisexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : biromantic RELATIONSHIP STATUS : single HOME TOWN / AREA : promeopolis (i envision this being around nyc / tri-state area) CURRENT HOME : lives with older sister and niece PROFESSION : firefighter, undergraduate student

PHYSICAL. SKIN : pretty fair tan, but he sometimes appears a little darker than usual. his skin does a strange thing where it changes shade in different lighting. his skin is usually smooth, but right after getting finished with work, he sometimes is covered in dust and appears somewhat dried out. EYES : slightly upturned, deep-set, wide and somewhat of an almond shape. irises are usually very round, and are a bluish-cyan color. pupils often alight with mischief. in intense lighting, you can see a little red dot reflecting off his eyes. LIPS : pretty thin and nude, hard to notice. matches his skin tone very well. usually quite smooth. tends to get chapped after working. COMPLEXION : pretty fair, but in different lighting, he can look a lot tanner than what he really is. BLEMISHES : he has a few moles here and there, but overall his skin is fairly clear and clean. he doesn’t suffer from acne nearly as much as he did when he was in grade school. SCARS : he has some tiny, barely noticeable acne scars on his face, chin, and neck. the most noticeable ones are on his left arm from when he was practically set alight by a burnish flame. these are thick and quote coarse, and can cause some discomfort when touched. he also has a very small nick in his left ear, which was how his sister identified him when he found her after being separated from their family after the burnish incident when he was a kid. TATTOOS : an arrow that goes right below the nape of his neck to the middle of his back. the point is at about the small of his back, and there are a few decorations along the arrow. HEIGHT : 6′0, 183 cm WEIGHT : 165 lbs, ~75 kg BUILD : very muscular, quite athletic. very beefy arms, strong chest, well-built abdominals. however, his thighs and waist are pretty thin and trim. FEATURES : his most distinct features are his dramatic haircut and scars on his left arm, as well as the small white line on the outer helix of his left ear. his chest and shoulders are also quite broad in comparison to his rather thin waist. ALLERGIES : slight peanut allergy, dust, pollen. USUAL HAIR STYLE : undercut with a dramatic, spiky blue mohawk. USUAL FACE LOOK : mischievous smile or smirk; sometimes looks a bit wistful, like he’s thinking about something. USUAL CLOTHING : is normally shirtless, wearing thick red firefighter pants with a yellow “3.” most often wears black rubber boots, black gloves, ear lobe piercings, and an industrial piercing. sometimes wears a black tee-shirt.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : spiders, bugs, needles, being in love (kind of), losing his sister or niece, finding out his parents are dead. ASPIRATION / S : to continue his firefighting career, to receive a masters in emergency medical technology / fire prevention & safety technology. POSITIVE TRAITS : brave, caring, friendly, modest. NEGATIVE TRAITS : daring, reckless, sensitive, over-attachment. MBTI : entertainer (ESFP-A) ZODIAC : cancer TEMPEREMENT : choleric / sanguine SOUL TYPE / S : performer ANIMALS : zebra VICE HABIT / S : twiddling thumbs, jiggling leg (usually the right), twirling & playing with hair, biting nails, chewing lips, swearing, sighing, pen clicking. FAITH : none; would consider himself agnostic. GHOSTS ? : yes. AFTERLIFE ? : not sure. REINCARNATION ? : not sure, but leaning towards no. ALIENS ? : yes. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : independent, opinions slightly more left-leaning EDUCATION LEVEL : graduate student

FAMILY. FATHER : nikanor thymos MOTHER : agape thymos SIBLINGS : danai thymos (older sister) EXTENDED FAMILY : james (ex-brother-in-law), aria (niece) NAME MEANING / S : his first name is of an unknown meaning, but it could mean “from gaul” in greek. his last name comes from the greek word “thumos”, which means “spiritedness” or “the need of recognition.” HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : not that we know of, i think ???

FAVORITES. BOOK : harry potter / hunger games MOVIE : the lion king 5 SONGS : rick astley - never gonna give you up, lady gaga - born this way, beyonce - countdown, ariana grande - god is a woman, pitbull - timber (feat. kesha) DEITY : zeus HOLIDAY : christmas MONTH : july SEASON : summer PLACE : his bedroom / the lounge at work WEATHER : partly cloudy SOUND : meditation sounds SCENT / S : coffee, flowers, fresh baked desserts, fresh pizza, light cologne TASTE / S : coffee, vanilla cake, milk chocolate, parmesan cheese, green tea anything tbh FEEL / S : soft blankets, comfy pillows, loose-fitting clothes ANIMAL / S : dogs NUMBER : 13 COLORS : teal blue / flame red

EXTRA. TALENTS : piano, singing, writing, linguistics, thinking quickly, firefighting BAD AT : drawing (sort of), getting himself organized, following orders (sometimes) TURN ONS : kindness, sensitivity, acceptance, openness, agreeableness TURN OFFS : irresponsibility, lack of free time, ignorance HOBBIES : piano, singing, writing (stories, poems, etc), karate TROPES : ambiguously gay, antiquated linguistics, broken tears, calling your attacks, the chosen one, firemen are hot, going commando, hunk, idiot hero, innocently insensitive, large ham, mr. fanservice, oblivious to love, the protagonist, rookie red ranger, scars are forever, shonen hair, you gotta have blue hair (found here, there’s a lot more actually) QUOTES : “medals are made to be awarded to and from people who deserve them.” / “you can’t just kill for no reason!” / “[i’m] the universe’s #1 firefighting idiot!”

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : honestly??? i think i would keep it the way it is, BUT i would like to have seen some more canonical information about galo’s family. as of right now, we know that kray saved him after his family was attacked by the burnish. if i were to direct a new movie about galo, i would focus it mainly on his family. Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : i think it would be a mix of melancholic music as well as more upbeat stuff. on my blog’s main page there are links in the sidebar to both a soundtrack playlist as well as a pop music playlist; i definitely think it’s fair that a variety of genres would suit him and his experiences. Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : when i first watched promare, i was instantly drawn to this buffoon himbo. i’ve always had a thing for upbeat, energetic characters who are also quite caring and a bit dumb (which yes galo is very smart but he has his moments). while their personalities differ greatly (despite having the same personality type), he reminds me a lot of lance from vld, who i absolutely adore as well (and i also rp him too oops) Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4 : again, probably his personality. while i’m not as energetic and upbeat as galo and i have a very, very different personality type than him, i feel like i definitely do understand him. i understand why he feels he needs to be overly confident, and i also have my moments where i just need to storm off and be alone. god i could write paragraphs and paragraphs about why i like galo but i wanna keep it short and sweet and just stick with those two points, which i consider to be the biggest points. Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : look, i know i said i liked confidence, but something about galo that annoys me is the fact that he can often seem too confident. like yeah he seemed pretty humble in that pizza scene at the beginning of the movie, but i can’t help but feel a twinge of annoyance towards people who put themselves right into the center of attention and be all like “yeah i know i’m great.” like my boy i love you but do u have to announce urself every time u appear on the scene??? and pls stop being so reckless u honestly might die too soon one of these days we want u to be around for us to enjoy u Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : i definitely feel like we both have our moments where we just need some peace and quiet. of course, everyone needs this, but when galo talked about running off when he was pissed reminded me of me; i tend to go and cool off and vent to myself if i’m annoyed about something. we’re both naturally people-oriented and love to be around others, even though galo likes being the center of attention a little bit more than myself. Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : in the sense that if galo were real, i honestly think we would get along fairly well. we have different ways of dealing with things, but we have similar habits and personality traits. however when it comes to rp blogs, while i do like to headcanon things about my muses that mirror my own opinions and beliefs, i do consider the mun/muse relationship fairly symbiotic. we as real people can learn so much from fictional characters and in how we play them, and of course, the mun will determine some things about the muse that will deter from canon. Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : i just started this blog and have had very minimal interactions, so it’s hard to say ! i’d say that an interaction with a kray muse would be the most interesting. part of me wants galo to forgive kray and to have a better relationship with him post-movie canon, but there’s still so much about galo and kray’s relationship pre-movie as well; what was their relationship like? was kray like a father to galo? how can i describe the psychological mindset that galo had after finding out that kray betrayed him? there’s so much about these two that i really want to discover and look at, while of course providing my own insight (cuz that’s what muns do, right?). Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : i like to study galo’s actions in the movie, and try to find the underlying cause of the actions he takes. however, when it comes to headcanons, i will often think of a scene or an idea in my head and then internally apply it to galo and see if it works. this is usually what kindles my writing fire: the thoughts that often rush through my head. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : like two whole days lmao im so slow

#heart of fire and soul of passion. (headcanon)#noah rambles. (out of character)

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cryoculus · 5 years

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uhh SURPRISE I was the one who requested for headcanons and/or scenarios for kuroo with a fem reader who can fight 💦💦 she rlly knows how to kick ass, tomboyish and no one rlly knows her at school. Bonus if she saves kuroo's dumbass from getting mugged!! (sooo sorry about requesting when the ask box was closed, I was embarrassed lol)

» Word Count: 3,623 words

Ily HERE IT IS Im so sorry it took so long (and i didn’t even proofread it because i wanted u to read it immediately LMAO)

“Tetsu-kun, do you have practice later?”

“Tetsu-kun! I made you a bento~”

“Hey, Tetsu-kun, want to go to karaoke later?”

“Ladies, please, there’s enough of me for everyone,” Kuroo reminded his gathering population of admirers, beads of sweat trickling down the side of his face. These girls were becoming more and more hostile towards each other everyday. How the hell did Oikawa deal with this kind of thing on a daily basis?

One of the girls, her name was Ame if he could remember correctly, linked her arm into his. “I’m the one who first talked to Tetsu-kun when we were first years.”

Uh, no. She definitely wasn’t the first person that struck him up in conversation during his first day in Nekoma. But he thought it would be rude to correct her in front of the other girls, so he just flashed her an awkward smile.

Another one, Emiko, huffed while crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, Tetsu-kun said my bento arranging skills were like his mother’s!”

Yeah, that’s because his mother absolutely sucked at the art of assembling a cute bento. Emiko made nice rice balls though, he’d give her that.

The last of the party, Tsukino, grabbed his other arm, squeezing his biceps a little too tightly for his liking. “Sucks for the two of you then! Tetsu-kun always walks me home~”

Ame and Emiko gasped at the revelation, eyes narrowing at Kuroo.

Okay, he didn’t have a comeback for that. But the only reason he walked Tsukino home when he had time to spare was because the girl latched onto him like a leech when she found out Kuroo lived in the same block as her.

His conscience would maul him for the rest of his life if something happened to Tsukino if he bailed out on walking her home. Thus, the unwanted interactions with her parents whenever they see him at their doorstep.

“God, can’t you idiots continue your polyamorous love quarrel somewhere else?” a shrill voice grated at his ears.

When his eyes fell on the person who obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, he came face-to-face with you, his classmate with the most muted presence out the students of 3-5.

Your schoolbag hung loosely across your shoulder and your uniform blazer was clutched in your free hand. There were prominent creases on your uniform that made him wonder if you even bothered ironing them before leaving. Probably not. But what made everyone give you a second glance whenever they passed you in the halls of Nekoma was your hair.

There weren’t any strict rules regarding hair grooming being imposed at school, given that Yamamoto and Kenma could dye their hair and style it as they pleased. So, it should only be normal to come across a girl with an undercut.

Kuroo thought the look was pretty badass, but he never really mustered enough courage to talk to you when it wasn’t necessary. He had a feeling that you didn’t have time for menial things like small talk and that, should he attempt to do so, you’d snap his neck before he could say hello.

One time, he asked Yaku about you. The libero had informed him that you’ve been enrolled in Nekoma since junior high, but didn’t really interact with anyone outside of schoolwork and your own irritation. Like you were now.

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Could you please move out of the way? I’m trying to get into our classroom, thanks.”

Intimidated, the three girls that badgered him cleared a way for you to enter the room. He only noticed it now but they really were crowding the cramped hallways.

When first period began, Kuroo tried to listen to what his Japanese Lit teacher was preaching about sixteenth century literature. He really did, but he was immensely distracted by the pattern razored into your undercut.

You were a few seats in the front to his right, but he could see them clearly—three bolts of lightning beginning at the nape of your neck, which rose about a good four inches until it disappeared in the undergrowth of your hair. He always thought that he liked girls with long hair better, but this was putting an entirely different spell on him.

It was peculiar. You’ve had this hairstyle for a good while now, but he’s only noticed the intricate details that adorned it now. He wondered who your stylist was and how he managed to make that undercut look so good on you.

His teacher eventually called him out for his not-so-subtle daydreaming and made him recite today’s reading in front of the entire class. It wasn’t a big deal to him, really. Kuroo was used to multiple pairs of eyes trained on his every move.

But he wasn’t used to seeing you snort at one of his mispronunciations at the corner of his eye. Usually, you wouldn’t react to anything unless it pissed you off. Did his reading aloud piss you off? Did you care enough about him to garner such a reaction from you? He nearly laughed to himself.

Highly unlikely.

“Kuro.”

Kuroo was about to change out of his sweaty shirt, but upon hearing Kenma using that tone on him, he turned around, brow quirked in wonder.

“Yeah?”

His younger friend gave him an indifferent look. “You’re distracted.”

Would Kenma be fooled if he said otherwise? He shook his head. Of course he wouldn’t. Nothing got past his arbitrary gaze, after all.

It’s been nearly a week since you brushed past him in the hallway, muttering some colourful vocabulary under your breath because of his ‘polyamorous love quarrel’. There hasn’t been any real interaction between the two of you, but at one point, Kuroo would just find his thoughts drifting back to your flat-eyed gaze and unconventional hair do. It happened so often that even Kenma started to notice his focus drifting off to the hinterlands of his mind.

“How so?” Kuroo asked his friend, peeling off the t-shirt that stuck to his body like a second skin. He may be distracted but he definitely burned enough calories for a day.

Kenma let out an exasperated noise. Hearing the setter’s vexation, Lev peeked his head from the door of his locker.

“You got hit in the face with a volleyball twice, Kuroo-san,” the younger boy supplied, “that’s twice than usual.”

“Lev, you can’t multiply two to zero. It becomes zero,” Yaku retorted as he emerged from the shower rooms, towelling his damp hair with an unamused look on his face.

“What, really?”

“This is new information to you?”

The two of them continued to argue about their own mathematical rules while Kuroo managed to stuff his training clothes in a gym bag. He could still feel Kenma’s eyes boring holes into his back.

“I’m all right, Kenma,” he reassured. “I’m just feeling a little under the weather is all.”

The setter narrowed his eyes.

“Liar.”

Ah, there really was no escape when he’s best friends with a goddamn Nancy Drew, was there?

“That’ll be a hundred-fifty yen.”

Kuroo dug a couple of one hundred yen coins from the pocket of his jacket and placed his payment on the counter. The young man running the cashier took his payment and the yakisoba bread in his hands. He stuffed the snack in the microwave to heat and gave Kuroo his change back.

He thanked the guy in a subtle voice, leaning against the counter to wait for his food. There weren’t any other people inside the convenience store and Kenma already went ahead to go home. Kuroo thought that his friend was giving him the cold shoulder because he wouldn’t tell him what was up, in his typical Kenma fashion.

The microwave dinged, signaling that his order was ready. The cashier guy sighed before popping the yakisoba bread out of the microwave and putting it in a paper bag. He handed Kuroo his purchase with little to no enthusiasm.

“Thank you very much.” Even his tone was lackadaisical. Not wanting to add on to his irritation towards the retail industry, Kuroo nodded at him once before promptly exiting the store.

The sky had already transitioned into an inky darkness when he set foot into the streets of Nerima. Kuroo frowned. He could’ve sworn the sun was just beginning to set when he went into the convenience store. But considering it’s almost winter, it explained the shorter days.

Kuroo walked down the streets with passive interest as he nibbled on his yakisoba bread. The noodles were a little stale and the sauce too bland for his palate. He had half the mind to go back to the store to get another snack but, seeing that he was already a good three blocks away, he decided against it. He should’ve known how low the bar was set for Japanese convenience store food.

His strides came to a halt when a hunched figure emerged from an alley. It was a man that’s probably only a few years older than him. Considering his height, he was a lot shorter than Kuroo was; he probably only rose up to the middle blocker’s chin. His clothes were tattered, but a thin cloak shielded him from the low temperature. Sunken eyes bore into Kuroo, considerably unnerving him with that stare alone.

“Oi, nii-chan, you got some spare change on ya?” His voice was rough and throaty, like he hasn’t had a drink of water for weeks.

If he recalled correctly, he still had about fifty yen in his pockets when he paid for his food. Kuroo fished what was left of the coins on his person and handed it to the man without much of a fuss. He wasn’t commuting today anyway.

The stranger counted the money in his hand with bony fingers. He eyed Kuroo from head to toe, most likely piecing together where he studied.

“You go to Nekoma, but only have this on ya?” He growled at him. “Ya think this is a joke?”

Kuroo knitted his brows in confusion at his hostility. What was this guy on about? Kuroo was generous to a fault. Giving some food or money to beggars that called his attention on the street was something he did out of his own accord. They might need it more than he did, anyway. But he never really encountered anyone that asked him for money, got it, and was pissed by the amount.

Deciding to not make a big deal out of it, he flashed him a pleading smile. “Sorry. That’s all I’ve got on me right now.”

“If that’s true then why’re you fuckin’ eating in front of me?”

He blinked at him then stared at the half-eaten yakisoba bread in his hand. Was he really going to give him shit because he’s eating? How could he have pre-meditated that some stuck-up guy was going to ask him for some alms and that said stuck-up guy wouldn’t be happy with small amounts? God, this was giving him a headache.

“Look, sir, uh…” His voice trailed off, trying to figure out how to break it to the guy that he was broke, himself, since he already splurged through his weekly allowance even if it was only Wednesday. Damn Bokuto and his yakiniku dates that he couldn’t refuse.

But before he could form a coherent explanation, Kuroo could feel something cold and hard digging into his side. His eyes widened when he realized what it was.

“She’s pretty ain’t she?” The man moved closer to him, pressing the vintage looking pistol further into his right rib. He shielded the gun with his body so passers-by wouldn’t take notice of it. “Stole it off a cop who wasn’t looking. Took me a while to find the bullets though. But she’s locked an’ loaded, nii-chan.”

He stood frozen in the spot, like even the most minimal of movements would make this man’s tethering patience shatter into pieces. Kuroo really didn’t want to be splintered with the shards of his wrath.

Kuroo forced his thumping heart to ease so he could assess the situation clearly. His dad was a police officer. He’s seen authorized people hold guns a handful of times in his life, and could easily tell that this guy didn’t know shit about proper handling.

He couldn’t afford to offset this guy’s temperance when he’s armed. If he was just some lunatic trying to mug him, he would’ve punched him in the face, but the presence of a gun was a different story. The best-case scenario was that he’d manage to talk some sense into the guy and leave unscathed. The worst was that this could end up into a shoot-out that involved other innocent lives just because he was unhappy with Kuroo’s fifty yen. Fantastic.

Noticing that a bunch of on-lookers were casting wary glances in their direction, the man slipped the pistol back into his pocket and slung an arm around Kuroo like he was an old drinking buddy.

“Let’s talk where it’s a bit more private, shall we?” He switched his throaty voice into a more lively tone, patting Kuroo’s shoulder as he led him into the alley from where he came from.

Calm down, buddy. It’s just a weirdo who wants to mug you off money you don’t have. And he has a gun. But calm. Down.

This alley looked like any other run-down crevice in the city. Murky puddles forming at the side of commercial buildings, a dumpster lying untouched by cleanliness for God knows how long, faded graffiti matting the moldy brick walls, and mice scampering into their tiny little holes at the presence of two men invading their territory.

When they reached the far end, Kuroo could hear the rustle of the man’s clothes as he took out the gun.

Calm down.

“I’ma ask you again, nii-chan,” he cautioned, pressing the muzzle against his temple, “you got some spare change on ya?”

He swallowed thickly. “I—”

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to rob unsuspecting teenage boys?”

Shock immediately crossed his face. He only heard that voice at rare occasions, but he’ll never forget the sound of it.

“Hah?” The man turned around to look at you. “Who do ya think you are?”

Kuroo tilted his head to the side; not enough to grab the stranger’s attention but enough to catch a glimpse of you. Arms crossed, you were donned with a brown fur-trimmed jacket that reached past your knees. The fitted black top you wore very much exposed your stomach and showed a great deal of your bosom. Kuroo tried to avoid looking for longer than he had to. Dark green cargo pants were belted across your hips, the pant legs disappearing into a pair of black combat boots. The look complemented your hair even more now.

His lips parted in wonder. This was the first time he saw you out of school and, frankly, he wasn’t disappointed.

“So, are you going to let him go or am I going to have to do it for you?” The boldness in your tone almost made him want to hit his head on the dingy wall. As far as Kuroo knew, he was the one being held at gunpoint, so he’d really appreciate it if you didn’t rile up the guy holding him hostage at the moment.

The man immediately grabbed him by the shoulder and had him face you directly, shoving the mouth of the gun against his head with a little more pressure than he’s comfortable with.

“S-stay back! If ya don’t want me to blow his head off, you’ll get the fuck out’ta here!” His voice was shaky, his original confidence in his plans going down the drain.

You cast him an uninterested stare. “You’re going to do that even if I went on my way, dumbass. Just go ahead. Shoot.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened, teeth clamping down on his cheeks to bite back a shout. Were you insane?

The man made a choked up sound. “You think I won’t actually do it? Are ya fuckin’ testing me?”

“Now, don’t put words in my mouth.” You rolled your eyes. “Shoot him.”

His dad told him that the best way to solve a problem was to take a step back and think about how you’re going to play your cards. But right now, there were no cards for him to bring to the table because this psycho was going to put a goddamn bullet through his skull. He had no time to—

The man pulled the trigger.

But the bullet didn’t come.

Kuroo exhaled in utter relief as the man repeatedly tried to pull the trigger. His eyes then fell on you, shaking your head at his captor’s stupidity.

“You didn’t cock the damn gun, idiot,” you mumbled, coming forward swiftly.

Taking advantage of his bewilderment, you stomped on his bare foot with the hard soles of your boots. The man yelped, releasing his hold on Kuroo, who immediately slipped out of his grasp the moment he sensed that he was presented with a green light.

He watched the scene in front of him unfold with wide eyes. You slid your foot to knock his legs out of balance, effectively swiping him to the ground. When he lost his grip on the gun, you managed to catch it. The man cowered in fear, backing up against the wall to put as much space between the two of you.

You crouched down, probing the man’s chin upward with the barrel of the gun. “I’m in a pretty rotten mood right now, so consider yourself blessed that I didn’t beat you into a coma.”

“P-please spare me,” he sputtered pathetically.

“Isn’t that what I’m already doing?” A sadistic grin played on your lips. “Next time you try to mug someone, make sure you know how to use your weapons. Oh, and make sure I’mnot in the area. I have zero tolerance for pointless violence.”

The man nodded rigorously. When you moved to the side, letting him free, he scrambled to his feet and ran out of the alley without looking back. Remembering you had company, you cast Kuroo an uninterested glance.

He was gaping at you.

“What, no thanks?” you grumbled, rising up to your feet to pocket the gun in your pants.

A dozen questions were racing in his mind, but he couldn’t voice out any of them. Kuroo settled for gawking at you like a madman. Were the last five minutes of his life true? Did you really just save him from getting mugged? Did you really scare that guy shitless without much effort?

You avoided his astonished gaze, cursing. “This is why I hate seeing people from school outside.”

“Who…are you?” Kuroo managed to ask.

His eyes met yours for a split second and he could feel a jolt of electricity skidding down his spine. Your lips turned up into a grin.

“I’m no one. Go home,” you told him off dismissively, immediately pivoting on your heels to make your leave before he could ask any more questions.

However, your retreating form gave Kuroo a sight that surprised him even more in this situation. At the back of your jacket were three thunderbolts that matched the ones in your hair embroidered onto the fabric of your outerwear; the word ‘Kaminari’ was written in elegant hiragana.

Before you could completely make your exit, you stopped in your tracks. Turning around, you regarded Kuroo with an amused look on your face.

“You should be more selective with people you show your kindness to, you know?” you imparted. “The next time someone decides to fuck you over, no one might be there to save you anymore.”

Then, you were gone.

When he finally got home no later than thirty minutes after the chance encounter with you in the alley, his parents were already in the middle of dinner.

“I’m home,” Kuroo announced as he removed his shoes by the doorway.

“Welcome home, Tetsurou,” his mother greeted him with a tender smile. “Come on, eat! You must be starved from training.”

Kuroo nodded, setting his gym bag on the sofa. He greeted his father, who was reading what looked like police report as he spooned a mouthful of karaage in his mouth.

He slid into his seat and offered his prayers before taking a portion of the food his mother had prepared. Her karaage was his absolute favorite. Well, next to her mackerel pike of course.

“Dear, you’re looking a little stressed,” his mother told his father. “Is that a new case?”

Kuroo Toshirou sighed, setting the folder down on the dinner table. “No, it’s a pretty old case. But it’s been revived because the Kaminari faction’s leader just died. The vacancy is stirring up all kinds of gang wars all over Tokyo.”

Kuroo stopped chewing his food. Kaminari?

His mother cast him a wary glance. “Isn’t that the biggest faction of the yakuza?”

“Yes and that’s exactly why they’re the hardest to keep in check.” He stared at his food blankly. “There have been reports that the previous leader has a child, so naturally, the position should go to his own flesh and blood, right?”

“Dear, you know I don’t have an idea how the underground works.”

“Ah, sorry, honey. But we’ve confirmed those reports just recently. The previous leader, Raijin Hayate, has a daughter, so the rights of inheritance of the leadership can’t go to her because she’s a girl.”

Before Kuroo could stop the words from coming, he blurted out, “What’s the name of the girl?”

His father smiled. “Interested, are you? Her name is Raijin (Name), the true heir to the Kaminari faction.

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsurou #request #redhotchampion #i love you plat #hqscenario #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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virmillion · 5 years

Text

Ibytm - T minus 23 seconds

Masterpost - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - ao3

Words: 2,553

With only two days left to go before the new office is finally open and he can at last return to work, Logan is bored out of his mind. He tilts his head up from his position on the floor with his feet up on the wall and looks at Virgil, who shrugs.

“Just because I know art history doesn’t mean I know anything about whatever modern scene you’re trying to peddle. How should I know what you want to do for fun?”

“We’ve got a functional car now, right? We might as well use it.”

“To do what? The only places we go outside of work are, like, the park. And Patton’s house, I guess, but I don’t know why you’d use your car to go hassle him.”

“We could just get in the car and drive, see where we end up?”

“As if there isn’t literally an endless list of places we could go or random directions we could take.”

“Not like we have any better options. Not like you’re suggesting any, for that matter.”

“You have absolutely got me there, my dude.”

Logan takes this as the most solid of agreements he could hope for and pushes his foot off the wall, doing half of a backwards somersault to get to his knees. Virgil, in a much less graceful manner (despite whatever dance experience Logan is convinced he’s hiding from him), tumbles off the couch and lands in a heap on the floor. He luckily seems to find his footing by the time Logan pockets the keys and insurance papers, doing a spectacular job of not tripping on his way down the stairs.

Logan clicks the lock button on the fob, reassuring himself it still works despite having just gotten it, y’know, yesterday. As he presses the unlock button on the handle, Virgil yanks on the passenger door at exactly the right moment to re-lock his door. Logan sighs and presses it again before sliding into his seat.

For a used lease, it isn’t in the worst possible shape. A few tears in the leather of the seat, some bleach stains, some scuff marks, but certainly good enough that it won’t crap out on them in the middle of a busy highway. At the very least, Kathy’s deal regarding further interests in a motorcycle was more than fair. Logan is pretty sure this car will survive the next couple years in one piece, anyway, so it’s hardly worth worrying about.

Virgil does not agree with this sentiment.

“What if that spot didn’t show up in the trust papers and they charge you for it when you turn it in?”

“Then we’ll be out thirty bucks and the next lessee will enjoy a cleaner car.”

“What if you lock the keys in the car and your phone dies and your late for work?”

“Then I politely ask the nearest shop if I could borrow their phone for roadside assistance.”

“What if you forget the number?”

“Google.”

“What if—”

“Virgil.”

“What?”

Logan sweeps a hand around to indicate the parking lot, from which they still haven’t moved an inch. “If any of that happens, we will deal with it when it comes.” He holds up his phone and swipes away the dormant background apps. “Full battery.” He scratches at a stain on the console with his fingernail, picking it off with ease. “We can always clean it ourselves.” He takes Virgil’s hand in his own, feeling the bands between them. “And if nothing else, we’ve got each other.”

Virgil nods, clearly still unconvinced, but reaches for the aux cord and plugs in his phone. “Dibs on music hijackery.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how dibs work,” Logan says, but he doesn’t protest when Alec Benjamin’s voice pours from the speakers. As they approach a traffic light, Logan assigns each direction a number—left one, right two, straight three. “Pick a number, one through nine.”

“Seven.” Logan clicks on his indicator and pulls into the left turn lane. Once the next light pops up—two directions with a one way street cutting through the middle—Logan reassigns the numbers, one through ten, with going straight being designated as odd numbers.

“Pick a number, one through ten.”

“Four.”

Logan turns, quirking one eyebrow as Virgil rapid-fire skips through a solid fifteen songs in a row, only allowed a discordant opening beat to play each time.

“One through three,” Virgil grumbles.

“Now that’s no fun,” Logan chides lightly. “Where’s the variety, the panache? And three. One through ten.”

“Eight.” Logan sees the word on his lips more than he hears it, turning right as some song about tongues by a horizon band starts blaring from the speakers. The short stints of number selections continue for a good twenty minutes or so, with only the vaguest occasional commentary from Logan, before Virgil speaks up again.

“I’m getting close to the end of my repertoire.” Mind you, he’s played a maximum of seven songs to completion by this point.

“You’ve hardly played anything yet. How many songs do you have?”

“Five hundred forty-two.”

“And you only wanted to listen to seven.”

“Correct.”

“So why not delete the other five thirty-five?”

“’Cause I’m not in the mood to listen to them now , but I might be later.”

“Fair enough. One through nine.”

“Five.”

Logan drives straight, eyeing the strip mall fast approaching on the right. “How about we go to Ikea?”

“Why would we go to Ikea?”

“Could be fun, wandering around and getting lost in the aisles and all that manner of doing. Plus, hey, we could always get some furniture.”

“Right, because the apartment isn’t crowded enough already. Surely more things will fit in the same space.” Logan considers this and shrugs, but nevertheless he flicks on his right turn indicator and pulls into the parking lot. And a spot not too far from the doors. Nice.

Virgil smacks the back of his hand into Logan’s chest when he moves to cut the engine. “Wait, there’s only twenty-five seconds left in this song.” So they sit and they wait for the song to play itself out, Virgil bouncing along and Logan watching how the longer pieces of his dyed hair claw past his undercut to the nape of his neck. “Okay, now we can go.” Virgil climbs out of the car first, already bounding for the entrance by the time Logan locks the doors behind them.

“Someone’s in a hurry,” Logan remarks, scrubbing at a smudge on his glasses with his shirt. He squints at Virgil’s blurry silhouette, which is nearly to the undefined entrance already. “Since when did furniture shopping excite you?”

“Since I remembered that Ikea has, like, the best cinnamon rolls.”

“I never agreed to making any purchases today.”

“You never agreed to making any furniture purchases today. You never said cinnamon rolls were off the table, so hurry up.”

This is how Logan finds himself sandwiched between a family of five in front of him and an elderly lady behind him. Virgil, the little snot, lingers at the edge of the line, nowhere near as cramped as Logan. More than a little squished as he does so, Logan leans over to Virgil and mumbles, “I am not getting you the six pack.”

Virgil hardly seems to hear him, pawing through his wallet (Logan’s wallet, that is) for some bills on the west side of crumpled. “Yeah, sure, cool deal my dude.”

Singular cinnamon roll in hand, Virgil follows Logan from the counter some ten minutes later, the latter being extra careful not to touch the parts of his husband’s hand that are drenched in sugar.

“Skhur khoo gon’t wah skhung?” Virgil asks—well, that’s what it sounds like he asks, but Logan likes to think himself pretty darn decent at reading context clues. That is, the context clues of Virgil’s full mouth and the way he’s prodding the roll in Logan’s direction.

“I’m good,” Logan says, holding up his hands as if to calm a rabid child. Virgil shrugs and tears off another piece, smearing icing across his chin in the process, and Logan wonders whether he should feel enamoured or disgusted. Maybe a little bit of both.

By the time they reach what Virgil referred to as ‘guh koch uk guh gnazje’—’the top of the maze,’ as Logan managed to parcel out—the roll is completely gone and Virgil is licking his fingers clean, pulling them from his lips with a pop .

“You are incorrigible,” Logan informs Virgil, watching him wipe his fingers off on the hem of his shirt.

“Not like anyone else’ll notice.” Virgil zips up his jacket and holds his arms out to the sides, as if to say tada to a nonexistent audience. “See? Good as gone.”

“I suppose.” Logan glances at the arrows underfoot, tracing their path up to a map standee. “Let’s try to figure out where we want to go before we get completely lost.”

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Virgil grumbles. He pokes at an area on the map. “If we’re gonna do it the cheater’s way, I want to hit up the office and study displays.”

Logan nods, dragging a finger along the picture and tapping the you are here dot. “Okay, that shouldn’t be too impossible. We just need to go through bedding here, past the living room section there, and we can bypass the kitchen part with this shortcut here.”

“Works for me,” Virgil says, already a good fifteen feet away. Logan exhales and moves quickly to catch up, following Virgil down the winding path and wondering how long it’ll take them to get completely lost.

“Hey, wait, hold up,” Virgil says suddenly, stopping sharply enough that Logan has to feint right to avoid smacking his face between Virgil’s shoulder blades.

“What is it?” Virgil tilts his head toward a display room in the bedding section, with several blankets and a surplus of pillows and some glow in the dark stars on the wall and a bedside table and—“Why did you stop me for this?”

“’Cause that could be us.” Virgil’s voice takes on a strange quality, sort of airy and wistful, a combination that completely baffles Logan.

“I don’t think I quite follow you.”

“See how normal it is? It’s literally just a bed with some decorations but, like, that’s how some people’s homes actually are. That’s the kind of thing that we could make our normal.”

“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re trying to get across here.”

Virgil gives an exasperated sigh, glances about them, and launches himself at the bed. Logan freezes, his hands caught somewhere between wringing themselves out and trying to stop him. Posing atop the bed, Virgil peeks out at Logan from between his elbows and squints his eyes so they almost look sleepy—more squinty than sleepy, but Logan gets the point well enough.

“This is an actual, genuine, legitimate thing that we could have, and it could just—just be. ”

“I don’t think—”

“Then stop thinking.” Virgil props himself up on his elbows and stares at Logan, more than long enough to make him uncomfortable. (This admittedly doesn’t take very long, but still.) “There’s no, like, grand point I’m trying to make here. I’m just saying that this display is something that some people actually have, and it’s manufactured, yeah, it’s whatever, but it’s still something that exists, and something we could have, something that—it could—I don’t know, I think I lost my point somewhere in there. I can’t really put it into words, but d’you know what I mean? Don’t answer that.” His face taking on a stunning shade of crimson, Virgil slides off the bed and speedwalks to the next department.

“Well, hey, hang on,” Logan calls, jogging to catch up. When he does (by no small amount of effort), he has to hold Virgil’s shoulder in place to keep him from getting away again. “Just because I don’t get it doesn’t mean it’s invalid.”

“Doesn’t mean it is valid, either.” Virgil is staring intently at the ground, as if it might get up and run away when he’s not looking.

“Okay, so then let me try.”

“Try what?”

Rather than answer, Logan steps off the arrow-lined path and stands beside an elbow couch covered in decorative pillows. “This could be us, too, right? A normal, everyday thing that doesn’t mean much to anyone else, but it could be a sort of symbol of the life we choose to forge together? Was that what you meant about the bedding display?”

“Kind of, but not really, but you tried your best.” Virgil stifles a laugh as Logan perches on the arm of the couch and rests his chin on his fist. “What are you doing, dork?”

“I’m thinking…” Logan mumbles, drawing out the second syllable. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking…”

“You are so weird.” Virgil shifts his weight between his feet for a moment, then bolts down the path, easily escaping Logan’s sight as the latter scrambles to get off the couch arm without tripping over himself. Logan weaves between the scattered clumps of people doing, you know, real serious shopping, doing his best not to full out sprint in his efforts to catch up with Virgil’s silhouette as it disappears around the next corner every time he gets it back in his sights.

“Stop doing that!” Logan groans once he finally reaches Virgil, who appears entranced by the fancier displays of kitchenware. “We were supposed to take a shortcut back there.”

“Yeah, but maybe I wanted to look at utensils and stuff.” Virgil spins around and holds up a wooden block shaped like a porcupine, its spines consisting of all manner of forks and spoons and knives. “Look at this one! Her name is Polly.”

Logan cranes his neck to look for a tag declaring as much, electing not to suggest that a better name might be ‘Caesar.’ “Where does it say that?”

“In my heart.” Virgil places the porcupine back on the shelf and continues down the aisle, now checking out a nesting set of measuring cups.

“We don’t need kitchenware stuff, you know.” Logan is confident that his words are falling on dear ears, but he continues his lecture anyway. “We rarely cook anything so complex as to require new tools. We don’t even use the ones we already have.”

“What’s your point?” The question seems too halfhearted to be anything more than vague encouragement for Logan to keep talking as Virgil pokes his nose into a standing hutch display. “Hey, look how nice this wood is! Even better than the frames at the museum. D’you think they’d give me a raise if I went in and criticized their choice of woodwork for displaying the art?”

“Probably not, since you don’t have a legal salary in the first place.” Logan picks up a set of cups, lifting them over his head to inspect the undersides by the fluorescent beam lights.

“Fair enough.” With no further warning, Virgil backs up from the hutch and darts down the path into the next section. Logan sighs, not bothering to call out another ‘stop doing that’ before setting down the cups and chasing after him, narrowly dodging two women leaning their heads together to admire a kitchen display.

#labhwrites #mine #i'll bring you the moon #ibytm

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moonsfury · 5 years

Text

Tagged by :: @hugs-not-anonymous Tagging :: steal it

Body

– Long legs. Short legs. Average legs. Slender thighs. Thick thighs. Muscular thighs. Big feet. Average feet. Small feet. Soft feet. Slender feet. Calloused feet.

– Lean frame. Slender frame. Muscular frame. Voluptuous frame. Petite frame. Lanky frame. Flat butt. Toned butt. Bubble butt. Thick butt. Small waist. Average waist. Thick waist. Narrow hips. Average hips. Wide hips. Toned stomach. Flat stomach. Flabby stomach. Soft stomach. Six pack. Beer belly. Underweight. Average weight. Overweight. (Not necessarily chubby. It’s mostly muscle. she’s a very beefy lady.)

– Skinny arms. Soft arms. Toned arms. Thick arms. Muscular arms. Calloused hands. Big hands. Soft hands. Average hands. Small hands. Long fingers. Short fingers. Average fingers. Broad shoulders. Short nails. Long nails. Manicured nails. Dirty nails.

Height

– Shorter than 140 cm. 141-150 cm. 151-160 cm. 161-170 cm. 171-180 cm. 181-190 cm. 191-200 cm. Taller than 200 cm.

Skin

– Pale. Fair. Rosy. Olive. Dark. Tanned. Blotchy. Smooth. Acne. Dry. Greasy. Freckled.

Eyes

– Small. Large. Average. Grey. Brown. Black. Blue. Red. Green. Gold amber. Hazel. Doe-eyed. Almond. Close-set. Wide-set. Squinty. Monolid. Heavyeyelids. Upturned. Downturned.

Hair

– Thin. Thick. Fine. Normal. Greasy. Dry. Soft. Shiny. Scruffy. Frizzy. Curly. Wild. Unruly. Straight. Smooth. Wavy. Floppy.

– Short. Shoulder length. Back length. Waist length. Floor length. Jaw length. Cropped. Pixie-cut. Buzz cut. Undercut. Bald. Mohawk. Braids.

– Vermilion. White. Platinum. Blonde. Strawberry blonde. Golden blonde. Dirty blonde. Ombre. Light brown. Mouse brown. Chestnut brown. Golden brown. Chocolate brown. Dark brown. Jet black. Ginger. Auburn. Dyed red. Dyed any “unnatural color”. Streaked. Other. (Blue!)

– Thin eyebrows. Average eyebrows. Thick eyebrows.

Tattoos / piercings

– Full sleeve. Partial sleeve. Arm tattoo. Thigh tattoo. Shin tattoo. Wrist tattoo. Lower back tattoo. Hand/finger tattoo. Foot tattoo. Neck tattoo. Face tattoo. Chest tattoo. Ankle tattoo.

– One tattoo. A few here and there. Multiple. No tattoo. Wants a tattoo.

– Monroe piercing. Nose piercing. Septum piercing. Nipple piercing. Genital piercing. Industrial piercing. Earlobe piercing. Prince Albert piercing. Eyebrow piercing. Tongue piercing. Lip piercing. Tragus piercing. Angel bites. Labret. Stretches out ears. Navel piercing. Inverse navel piercing. Cheek piercing. Smiley. Nape piercing.

– One piercing. A few here and there. Multiple. No piercing. (She likes the aesthetic of them, has wanted bridge piercings but, for her personally, sees them as impractical since she fights a lot.) Wants a piercing.

Cosmetics

– Light eyeliner. Heavy eyeliner. Cat eyes. Mascara. Fake eyelashes. Eyeshadow. Neutral eyeshadow. Smoky eyes. Colorful eyeshadow.

– Matte lipstick. Regular lipstick. Lipgloss. Red lips. Pink lips. Dark lips. Lipliner.

– Bronzer. Highlighter. Blush. Light contouring. Heavy contouring. Powder. Matte foundation. Shiny foundation. Concealer.

– Wears makeup regularly. Wears makeup from time to time. Never wears makeup (she finds it a waste of time given her “career”. the blood of her enemies is a much more soothing makeup routine. And easier.)

Scent

– Floral. Fruity. Cocoa. Leather. Sweat. Blood. Fire. Metal. Rain. Grass. Ocean. Autumn leaves. Smoke. Campfire. Lavender. Trees. Musk. Rose. Peppermint. Oak. Honey. Lemon. Vanilla. Mint. Rawhide.

– Perfumes. Aftershave. Moisturizer. Natural soap. Shampoo. Incense. Cigarettes. Food. Marijuana. Cologne. Whiskey. Wine. Fried food. Baked bread. Freshly baked cookies. Pumpkin pie. Gingerbread. Coffee cake. Chemicals.

Clothes

– Jeans. Tight pants. Tights. Leggings. Yoga pant. Sweatpants. Cargopants. Pencil skirt. Tight skirt. Loose skirt. Long skirt. Miniskirt. High slit skirt. Over-the-knee socks. Jean shorts. Khaki pants. Harem pants. Basketball shorts. Boxers. Briefs. Thong. Hotpants. Hipster panties. Ballerina skirt.

– Cardigans. Blouse. Button-up shirt. Band t-shirt. Sports t-shirt. Tank top. Cut off t-shirt. Tight/formatting dress. Maxi dress. Sundress. Tuxedo. Cocktail dress. High slit dress. T-shirt. Sweater. Sweater vest. Armor. Suit. Hoodie. Bra. Sports bra (specifically only wears sports bras for comfort). Crop top. Corset. Leotard. Chemise.

– Tie. Pteruges. Glasses. Sunglasses. Watch. Bracelet. Necklace. Pendant. Ankle bracelet/anklet. Bowtie. Ribbon. Weapons. Leather jewellery. Metallic jewellery. Jewellery with gemstone(s). Ring.

– Designer. High street. Online stores. Thrift. Lingerie. Loose clothing. Tight clothing. Polka dot. Stripes. Patterns. Florals. Vintage. Glitter. Silk. Lace. Leather. Velvet. Neon colors. Pastels. Plaid. Red. Blue. Black. Dark colors. Fur. Faux fur. Cool colors. Warm colors.

Shoes

– Sneakers. Slip-ons. Flats. Slippers. Sandals. High hells. Kitten heels. Ankle boots. Combat boots. Cowboy boots. Knee-high. Platforms. Bare feet. Loafers. Caligae.

#resting bitch face is apart of my skill set. ll character study.

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glass-phoenix · 5 years

Text

Tarts After Dark Performance

Musical Accompaniment

@succulent-tart

Zayneth Shadowspite steps out onto the stage in classic, stereotypical pirate chic: a flowing white shirt, a red sash, and leather pants that leave little to the imagination. A strip of red leather blinds his eyes, the latest in Illidari style. His long blond hair is pulled up in half a tail, exposing the undercut at the nape of his neck. Across his chest is slung his beloved guitar, his Old Lady. Made of golden-amber wood with a sense of age, years of heavy use have warmed the fretboard inlaid with a delicate pattern of vines in mother-of-pearl.

He sets out a battered old brown bucket hat on the stage. “That hat right there – and this guitar – belonged to the man who taught me how to play. Wherever I play, I set that hat out. If you care to put a coin or two in, I won’t complain. It’ll go to a charity to help support the spouses of those lost to war.

“Now, there's two kinds of sea shanties. There's the work songs which often have a heavy beat and might be call and response. Then there's the entertainment songs you sing on deck when you're bored.

“This is one of those. And I'll warn you, it's getting played tonight because it was just too filthy for Pirates' Day.”

Zay settles his hands on the guitar and flashes his best charming smile at the audience before launching into what sounds at first to be a slow, thoughtful tune.

“There were four whores of Theramore, drinkin' the blood red wine, and all the conversation was: 'Yours is smaller than mine.'”

His grin turns to mischief as he slides into the raunchy chorus: “Through me roly-poly, tickle my hole-y, smell o' me slimy slough, and drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew.” He stomps out the beat with his heel as the chorus ends.

“'You're a liar,' said the first whore. 'Mine's as big as the air. The birds fly in, the birds fly out, and never touch a hair!'

“Through me roly-poly, tickle my hole-y, smell o' me slimy slough, and drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew.

“'You're a liar,' said the second. 'Mine's as big as the sea. The ship sails in, the ship sails out, never troubles me.'”

Zayneth waggles his brows at the audience as if they haven't yet caught on, then launches into the chorus. “Through me roly-poly, tickle my hole-y, smell o' me slimy slough, and drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew.

“'You're a liar,' said the third whore. 'Mine's as big as the moon. The men jump in, the men jump out, never touch the womb.'

“Through me roly-poly, tickle my hole-y, smell o' th' slimy slough, and drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew.”

The musician slows his guitar playing down, bringing the focus to the beat he's stomping out with his heel. “Swab your decks, me hearties,” he growls. “Slice them now with pride. Light your oars, you sons of whores.”

Zay's voice drops to a whisper, “Yours is smaller than mine.

“'You're a liar,' said the last whore. 'Mine's the biggest of all. The fleet sailed in on the first of June and didn't come back 'til Fall!'”

He cackles and whoops, strumming wildly as he rounds out the chorus again: “Through me roly-poly, tickle my hole-y, smell o' me slimy slough, and drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew. Through me roly-poly, tickle me hole-y, smell o' me slimy slough, oh drag your nuts across me guts, I'm one of the whorey crew.”

Zayneth gives the chorus a third and fourth round, grinning like he expects to hear people singing along to his terrible, raunchy, filthy song by now. Hopefully the audience has more taste than he does. Who sings this on what's supposed to be a sexy night? A man who was cruelly thwarted on Pirates' Day, that's who.

The man strums the last few notes and taps the beat down with his boot. Beaming like a kid at Winter Veil, he bows to the audience over his guitar and scoops up his hat.

Then, he struts off-stage like he just got away with a heist or some kind of grand game.

#performance #music #Succulent Tart

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rawaabeauty · 4 years

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10 Beautiful Short Hairstyles for Women over 45

When you’re growing older your haircut should stay young and current – short haircuts for ladies over 45 are becoming more elegant and complicated per annum . With more hairstylists joining the sector daily, there are plenty of new hair ideas generated which suggests there’s something out there to suit your needs and preferences. inspect these 10 beautiful hairstyles for ladies over 45.

1. Short Feathered Cut. for ladies with fine hair, thicken up your piece-y layers with hair curlers or some texturizing spray.

2. White Hair Over 45. White pixies with undercuts will always look stylish on older women.

3. Short Cut with Body. The short feathered cut with teased roots and babylights provides a voluminous hairstyle flattering for many women.

4. White Feathered Bob. The short white bob with feathered bangs is that the epitome of elegance. When it involves short bob haircuts, texture and shape are crucial.

5. Short Layered Blonde Hairstyle. Keeping layers wavy and feathered boosts texture and movement in short-to-medium hair.

6. Short Crop with Undercut. Pixies with short temples and nape are great hairstyles for ladies 45 and up with a round face because undercuts can reduce the face and cause you to look younger.

7. Bouncy Cut with Thin Bangs. Want to undertake some cute bangs but don’t want anything drastic? Thin, piecey bangs are easily arranged to remain where you would like them.

8. Black and White Curly Cut. the lovable curly haircut shows off white hair as a face frame under voluminous black locks.

9. Short Blunt Style. A blunt cut during a shorter length will visually strengthen the jawline of girls in their 60s.

10. Short Top Long Sides. Very short cuts with longer sides are an excellent chic option if you’re 45 and older and searching for a chic style.

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shorthaircutsmodels · 4 years

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Hair style Bob is all that you have to make an enjoyment master hair style and style item. Short Bob Haircut Clippered Nape, Great Ideas! This hair style has weave low support however can be trimmed and styled in stylish present day or exemplary looks. You can attempt to change the style of your hair from a clippered scruff to a short Bob hair style. I'm exhausted with this one hairdo. Trying different things with hairdo substitution can generally be fascinating things to attempt. Cool Shaved Nape Bob Haircuts There are a few hairdos that are anticipated to drift in 2020. Everything is excellent and appropriate for regular use. anybody intrigued is working.Here's what the feature 35 + short Bob hair style clippered scruff said about hair style sway with large thoughts. Trending Pixie cuts For Women Shaved segments are wherever this season-from intense short backs and sides to shaved hair styles to really wavy pixie haircuts. In general design is an extraordinary method to include additional surface and in vogue 'edge' to your style. Also, on the off chance that you battle to style your hair, short-shaven hair styles are absolutely the most straightforward to-mind design haircuts. Investigate these new short hair style thoughts and furthermore observe some dazzling new beige blonde and dark colored hair shading structures. I'm searching for a haircut that gives you an out of control spitfire look. Bold and Daring Takes on the Shaved Pixie Cut What are you hanging tight for. Give yourself a short pixie hair style without the slightest hesitation. Huge numbers of you are some of the time hard to manage thick hair or wavy hair can at times expend you to an extreme; however it is anything but difficult to handle such issues easily. From time to time you get a tingle for something new. Short Bob Haircut Shaved Nape You might be contemplating reclassifying your picture. This time why not take things to an unheard of level. Never dread you have an entire host of intense particular patterns you should go after yourself. Perfect for these hot months, the shaven pixie cut will shake your style in one brisk cleave. In case you're prepared to dive in, you've gone to the correct spot.

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besthairstylesbraided · 4 years

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50 Short Layered Haircuts

Forget long locks, short layered haircuts for women are the coolest style to go for! Whether you choose a sexy bob, a flirty pixie cut, or anything in between (like a pixie bob), short hairstyles are here to stay!

It doesn’t matter if you’re a teen or mature woman, there are plenty of flattering haircuts with layers you can choose from.

1. Short Layered Bob Haircuts

We can’t think of any better way to start our list than with a dazzling hairstyle. Not only is the bob downright spectacular, but so is the choice of coloring. This is the ideal hairstyle for the unconventional woman who can hardly wait to show her true colors.

2. Flirty Short Layers

A short hairstyle that any woman can rock is this voluminous cut. It is particularly recommended for women over the age of 40, but it looks adorable on younger ladies as well. Flirt in the classiest way possible!

3. Mature Layered Short Haircuts

Raquel Welch, a style icon and source of inspiration for women of all ages, proves just how effective a short haircut with plenty of feathered layers can be in offering a flirty and youthful look.

4. Layered Haircut for Straight Hair

You should definitely take advantage and make the most of short layered bob haircuts like this one, especially if your hair is naturally straight. You won’t have to spend hours on end getting ready to go out as your straight locks will fall perfectly in place on their own!

5. Short to Medium Layered Haircuts

What if you want to get a haircut, but you’re not willing to go that short? Well then, a short to medium cut with layers is in order. The layers go from short to long in the front and can make for a chic, shoulder-length hairstyle.

6. Short Layered Haircuts for Thin Hair

Battling the lifelong struggle of having fine hair? We feel you and got your back too! A short and layered cut is just what you need to bring your thin locks back to life. We also recommend adding some highlights, blonde – or in whatever color you like – as this will create the illusion of thicker hair.

7. Playful Short Haircuts

An actress and singer that’s quite close to our hearts, Mandy Moore never ceases to brighten up our day with a cute look. Some years back now, she used to rock this short hairstyle, and she did so flawlessly. It is an overgrown, long and layered and choppy pixie.

8. Fiery Layered Haircuts

Not afraid to go full out glamorous with short layered haircuts? Then bring on the color! Experiment with red hair and highlights for some extra sass. The longer layers of red are intertwined with shorter ones that are highlighted in different shades of red including copper and burgundy.

9. Short Layered Haircuts for Round Faces

A significant factor you need to take into consideration when choosing your new hairstyle is the shape of your face. For ladies with a round face, we recommend going for an inverted bob. Its face-framing layers will help create a slimming effect and will also draw attention to the features.

10. Professional Short Haircuts

Ladies who work for corporations or have jobs with a strict dress code must have a clean-cut and to the point hairstyle. One of the best short layered haircuts to go for in these environments is the slicked down pixie. It’s also a good look for a job interview!

11. Short Layered Haircuts with Bangs

We love so many parts about this particular Dianna Agron look that it’s hard to pick just one. The choppy bangs and equally dicey haircut are jaw-dropping. Couple this with the blonde hair balayage and you get the icing on the cake and the cherry on top.

12. Cute Short Haircuts for Teens

High school life definitely has its ups and downs, but one of the perks is showing off your new look! Impress all your friends with an adorable short haircut with layers and add some graceful side part bangs to it to complete this incredibly easy hairstyle for school.

13. Feathered Short Haircuts

What if you want to feel like the wind is constantly raking through your hair? What you need, then, is a feathered layers haircut. Like the name suggests, this layering technique helps create a feathery effect. It’s just what a gal with fine hair needs!

14. Effortless Short Haircuts with Layers

If your hair is naturally thick and you usually have to get ready for work or school in record time, then this pixie haircut is one of your best choices! The layers are perfectly trimmed so they will fall in place effortlessly and with minimal input from you.

15. Oval Face Layered Haircuts for Short Hair

We’ve already presented a great short layered haircut for ladies with round faces. Now, it’s time to show one for women with an oval face shape. Essentially, this is a classic bob that was cut inwards to frame the structure of the face. The swept-back bangs are also a nice touch too.

16. Bold Super Short Haircuts

It takes heaps of courage to rock this haircut, but we totally encourage our bold and daring readers to try it out or adapt it to fit their tastes! The overall look is extremely eye-catching, so we will be pointing out its various elements.

First, you have the long top and shaved sides pixie cut. Then, there’s the shaved design. And last but not least, admire the brunette sides and platinum blonde to white long top.

17. Short Layered Haircuts for Thick Hair

We simply adore the masterful shaping of this short haircut! It’s actually a pixie haircut, but with longer bangs in front. This short hair with fringe and layers that were strategically trimmed helps add extra volume to the back, front, and all around, in general.

18. Boho Layered Haircuts

This dreamy pixie cut will surely melt the heart of our indie and boho type readers. It delightfully combines short layers with a fringe, and it will perfectly complement women with small faces. The blunt cunt bangs also help enhance the overall sweet and innocent but daring look.

19. Medium Short Layered Haircuts

This is yet another excellent option for women seeking a haircut between medium and short in length. It is a layered haircut for straight medium length hair that was also enhanced by the copper on brunette ombre dye job.

20. Layered Ombre Bobs

Keeping on this note, let’s talk more about coloring ideas for short layered haircuts. This is an angled bob-shaped short hair cut that was further brought to life by a dark brown to blonde ombre coloring. The caramel transition makes it all the more beautiful!

21. Pixie Balayage Hairstyles

For a discrete color gradient, we totally recommend looking into balayage options. This pixie, for instance, is one of the best haircuts to try out if you want a bold look made even the more special thanks to its coloring. The roots are a deep charcoal that goes to blend out into silvery layered tips.

22. Short Layered Haircuts for Wavy Hair

Wavy hair is more than generous when it comes to the number of short layered haircuts you can try out with it. Also, thanks to layered cutting and the versatile length, you can reduce the maintenance time to a bare minimum. As long as the shape is well-defined from the beginning, you shouldn’t have any styling problems at all!

23. Layered Haircuts Short and Stacked

Another way to cut down on maintenance is by using the stacked cutting technique. This works great on short to medium short haircuts as well as long ones.

Stacking is a popular method in the bob haircuts category with its layers that start long and end short near the nape. Enjoy that natural volume boost!

24. Spiky Color Blends

For an even bolder take on short layered haircuts, consider blending more than one color – go for two or more! In this pixie example, you can see how various tones from the blonde and red palettes are stunningly melted together for a dynamic look.

25. Layers and Undercuts

We’ve talked all about undercut designs before, but this example hits the nail right on the head! Not only is the top part full of lively layers, but the sleek undercut follows up to beautifully complete the look!

26. Short Choppy Layered Haircuts

To make the transition from long to short hair all the easier, go for some medium short haircuts first. This shoulder-length cut will make the final short chop easier to achieve. It is also beauty all on its own thanks to the choppy layering and styling and the beautifully done blonde highlights.

27. Short Haircuts with Bangs and Layers

This style of short layered haircuts will look wonderful on anybody, regardless of their face shape! The bangs, as well as the messy styling, make for a huge difference when combined with the layered locks.

Also, while the messiness will be easier to obtain on wavy hair, it works just as well on curly and straight locks too!

28. Layered Afro Ringlets

Women with afro-textured hair can slay a short haircut any time, any day. The fact that their natural hair texture is full of volume makes the maintenance a breeze and we recommend a progressive length for an ultra-cool effect!

29. Braided Hairstyles for Short Layered Hair

Although shorter locks are a bit more limited in terms of styling, there are still plenty of ideas to work and play around with. For example, this small side braid is adorable – you can add more of them or even go for a crown braid – still, this will only be achievable if you have some longer layers!

30. Short Layered Haircuts for Curly Hair

Layers are everything when it comes to adding even more volume to your ringlets. And this stacked bob is one of the coolest short curly hair with lots of layers styles out there! The fact that it also features blonde highlights only helps add more oomph to an already great look!

31. Easygoing Layered Haircuts

And we are back to ladies with straight hair for this one. Just like the example from #4, this is an effortless hairstyle for women with naturally straight locks. Make sure you get the layers right and rake your fingers through your hair for extra volume – without any hair products either!

32. Haircuts with Short Layers on Top

This is a picture-perfect pixie haircut with impeccable layering. Although the bangs are long, the layers are kept short and flow amazingly into one another for this splendid look. The white hair color is also amazing!

33. Brown and Blonde Short Hair

This is another look that genuinely impressed us for more than one reason. We’ll start with the coloring – the brown and blonde balayage looks ravishing! Then, we love how the layers in the haircut extend to the choppy bangs, which is another detail that caught our eye.

34. Short Layered Haircuts African American Women

The feathered bob strikes again in yet another charming version. While it is showcased on superb raven locks, this is one of the short bobs that can be adapted for any color or hair texture.

35. Long Hair with Short Layers

We wanted to touch on the idea of long hair with short layers as well, even though we also have an article specially dedicated to it too.

Even waist-length can come to life and gain volume with some alluring layers. Take this photo as just one example of the many and great long layered haircuts with short bangs out there.

36. Voluminous Pixie Haircuts

Even though they are some of the shortest haircuts out there, pixie cuts are also incredibly versatile. For example, this shot proves that it is easy to add feathered layers and add an abundance of volume – provided the pixie is styled accordingly, that is.

37. Short Layered Haircuts for Young Girls

Layered haircuts are just as useful, pretty, and appropriate for little girls as they are for women. They will make kids look and feel adorable, especially with some short layered haircuts that are also so much easier to maintain.

38. Short Layered Inverted Bob Haircuts

When getting a layered bob, inverted cutting is an essential option to keep in mind as, when combined, the two methods will result in a voluminous, flirty, and chic hairstyle. One that is also so easy to style.

39. Classy Shaved Hairstyles

Whoever said that shaved hairstyles were too far out? In fact, plenty of these kinds of short layered haircuts can be quite classy. Take this photo above, for example, and admire the elegance of side-swept layered locks combined with a shaved side.

40. Very Short Layered Haircuts

If you’re willing to go above and beyond with the shortness of your haircut, choose a blunt or choppy look. Women with small or oval-shaped faces will look radiant with this outgoing hairstyle.

41. Pastel Blend Hairstyles

This is a superb dye job that uses the melting technique to combine three pastel shades. The color melts also help accentuate the various layers in the hair as well as its waviness. This latter can be obtained with a curling iron or wand.

42. Short Layered Spiky Haircuts

This haircut is daring and delicate at the same time, and the way you wear it will set the mood. Keep it natural for a delicate look, or add some quality hair products to make it spiky and daring. We also dig the strawberry blonde/copper hair color.

43. Asymmetrical Short Haircuts

Why not step fully outside conventions and the comfort zone with an asymmetrical haircut? We love how this particular cut has just enough asymmetry to make it wearable on a daily basis and yet it still looks spectacular and out of the ordinary. Note the full side bangs as well!

44. Short Blunt Layered Haircuts

Blunt bangs look phenomenal when paired with short layered locks, especially when the fringe is shorter and verging on micro bangs. This is a dreamy hairstyle for the unconventional woman who is not afraid to experiment with her look.

45. Flippy Layered Hairstyles

Want your hair to look brilliant at any angle, regardless of how you flip or part it? Then this is likely the perfect haircut for you. It’s slightly longer than even the other medium cuts on our list, but the perfect layers deserve all the praise!

46. Super Curly Short Hair

Curly hair is, by far, the most generous texture as far as short layered haircuts are concerned. Corkscrew curls will easily fall into place, no matter how short or long their overall length might be.

47. Short Blonde Layered Haircuts

We showcased plenty of blonde hairstyles in this list, but we wanted to specifically offer this color the spotlight. Short layered haircuts are often associated with the hot season, and we all know that blonde is among those timeless hair colors that always invoke summer colors!

48. V-Shaped Layered Short Haircuts

Get even more creative with your haircut by thinking of specific designs. A V-shape, for instance, is ideal if you’re planning on cutting your hair super short. The top part will be voluminous owing to the well-thought-out shape. Just admire this choppy layered hair back view with an almost V-shape.

49. Pastel Rainbow Layered Hairstyles

Carry the rainbow with you wherever you go! This is yet another great way to wear pastel hair if the previous examples weren’t funky enough for you. Add a bit of every color in the rainbow in your layered hairstyle and use the choppy layers to accentuate the hues. It will make for a funky fresh look.

50. Short Shag Hairstyles

We will end our list on a fabulously messy note with an idea of short shag hairstyles. Continue following us on HairMotive, and you’ll see just how much we adore messy hairstyles. After all, this short haircut is just one of the many great shag haircuts out there!

Conclusion

In conclusion, there is an abundance of short layered haircuts out there, and they are so versatile and oh so stylish. They come in all shapes and sizes and are perfect for all personalities.

While you can opt for a sleek and classy cut that grazes your chin, you can just as well go wild with the boldest super short haircut you can think of!

50 Short Layered Haircuts

#Short Hair #Short Haircuts #Short Hairstyles #Very Short Haircuts

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dansmithsdoomdays · 6 years

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First part of first draft of a short story for my Honors US Lit class. Of course I had to write about Dan, so it's drawing inspiration from the Bad Blood and Flaws music video, as well as Haunt and Sleepsong. Dan wakes up on a beach, unknowingly to himself as a ghost, and has to figure out what has happened and will eventually find himself back on the cliffs above the sea, discovering that's where he jumped from and why he did what he did. Amazing how writing about something you're interested in can make you so much more motivated.

The waves steadily beat against the distant cliff side. Water laps up onto the sand of the beach, reaching my fingertips, threatening to encroach upon me closer as the tide begins to come in. The air is heavy with salt and humidity, which have collected on my skin. I sit up, my joints cracking and my muscles protesting at the change of position, and brush sand off the back of my arms, and attempt to clear it from the collar of my jacket.

“What time is it,” I think to myself.

I look towards the sky, grey and cloud filled, giving me no evidence to the question I ponder. There's a chill in the air, and I unconsciously pull my jacket sleeves down my hands. I run my hands through my hair, which is tangled and matted. It must have gotten wet at some point, since salt has left behind a residue on the strands, and sand still sticks to the nape of my neck. I push up my glasses, wondering how they somehow have stayed on my face.

Wait. Since when do I wear glasses? I've had bad eyesight since I was a child, but I've almost always worn contacts. I always thought my glasses looked bad on me.

I look around at my surroundings, as if a lonely pile of rocks, or a few search and rescue boats in the distance will help solve my mystery.

I wonder who they're looking for. I pity the poor soul who fell into the bay on a day like this. Tourists come to sightsee, and every winter inevitably one will fall off the cliffs after messing around and will have to be dragged out. If they're lucky, that is. While part of the cliffs are safe for diving, the cliffs closer to me are prone to breaking, and the water below is notoriously deep and murky, scattered with jagged rocks that could tear open your leg if you fell onto it. I've seen it happen.

As I reminisce on memories of my earlier youth spent on the beach, a thought occurs to me.

“Where am I?”

I know this area. I've been to it many times. I have good and bad memories of time spent here. But I cannot think of where exactly I am. Suddenly, the scenery looks more foreign, the sea birds’ calls more ominous. My slightly damp letterman jacket is no longer keeping me warm. I run my hands through my hair once more.

I better go home, I guess? I don't know where I am, or why I'm here, but I guess that's the best next course of action, right?

But, wait, where is home either?

I rack my brain, frantically pulling at the longer dark brown hair atop my head, and dragging my fingers through my short undercut

Why can't I remember? What is happening? Do I even know who I am?

I pat my pockets, hoping to find a clue to jog my brain. I try not to think about the fact that at the moment my own name is escaping me, that somehow my own identity is just… not there… somehow. I feel something in my jeans, a wallet, an ID. Thank god.

“Daniel C. Smith”

Oh yeah. How could I forget (I still don't remember and that terrifies me, but once again, avoiding the thought).

And here's my address, “26 Church Hill, Arnside, Carnforth.” Of course it is (Is it?). (FYI: real place, definitely not dans real address. I just found a random town in England that was by the sea and some cliffs and took the address of some apartment buildings)

I struggle to get up into my feet. My bones feel like I had been laying on the sand for years (How long had I been here?), and I stretch my back and arms. Looking around, I walk away from the waves and towards what looks like a main road. There's a store front of a liquor store and a bakery, and what looks like a few boutiques. A lady walking a small dog walks by, the dog stopping to stare and bark at me, the lady annoyed and hurried to quiet him and keep going.

As I walk down the road, I figure my best option is to keep going and hoping that it will lead me to meet up with my street. I don't recognize anything, but everything feels achingly familiar, like I had been here many years ago on holiday as a child, before my memory could concretely store what I saw. I shuffle along, trying not to notice the ache in my body, the headache pounding in my temples, the thoughts circling my brain like an albatross over the sea.

#lmao I have no idea how this is #i never creatively write ever #except for one fanfic I wrote 3 years ago that was like a quarter of a page long and terrible and didn't make swnse #tell me what you think I guess?#this is from dans perspective #and it is a rough draft sooo #its set in 2011/2012 time period #idk #its fun to write tho #hopefully I'll get a good grade #hopefykly it's not too pretentious sounding idk how to write good #bastille

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