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#my wife draws and is so talented
breadbnuuy · 1 year
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gay people when they do a collab to draw gay people @yuri-talia 💗💕
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skegulium · 5 months
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Contemplating today about the passage of time and how I spent a smidge over one third of my life in homestuck - specifically fantrolls - and how it has directly shaped both the way I write, the content I consume, the friends I still hold fast with today, and the fact that my wife whom I love and WILL start a family with met in a silly little fantroll join.me stream nine years ago
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ofloveandstardust · 2 months
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A/N: I saw that Cain and Abel aren't like present in the show and I know they're technically Adam and Eve's kids, but let me have this please— I just wanna gush about this since it's been invading my mind.
cw: fem!reader (no pronouns, but reader is called wife/mama/mommy/mother)
Imagine: Being Adam's wife and having two sons with him.
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I can definitely see him being excited over having sons. Like, hell yeah! But but but also— I have this feeling in my gut that he'd be okay with being a girl dad, sooo after having your sons he's just like "Wifey, Sugartits, Babycakes—" Any nickname under the sun until you finally ask him what he wants and he just says he wants a daughter.
You can't tell me he didn't name Abel— and 💀 It's even funnier since Abel does have a little more resemblance of his father than Cain does. Cain was named by you and looks more like you. However, you can say his attitude is similar to Adam's. I can see them both having Adam's eyes when thinking up of how they'd look, but I'm leaving things up in the air. Just for this, because I think it'd be neat, the boys are twins. Cain is the older twin while Abel is the younger one.
Cain is kind of a menace...but still a good kid. He always pulls that "Because I'm the oldest" card with Abel and if he ever whacked his brother and he started crying, Cain immediately does that thing where the sibling just panics and stops them from crying or else he's getting in trouble with mama and papa. He teases his younger brother, but will get upset if anyone tries to bully Abel. Oh, but the biggest menace he is towards? Adam. Cain doesn't hate his dad at all. No, he just prefers you more and lowkey is a mama's boy. Adam can have Mr. Perfect (Abel), but he at least has mama.
Then Adam just straight up has beef with his own son 💀 Because Cain takes up your time and he swears the little shit is taunting him when you're not looking. Cain comes up when you and Adam are kissing or anything like that, holding his hands up like, "I want Mama's kisses too... 🥺" You can't resist because that's your baby and he's so adorable. There's this stare down between Adam and Cain...meanwhile Abel, being the good bean that he is, waddles towards you all and goes, "Mama! Papa! Look what I drew! :D" and it's just a sweet little drawing of him, his brother, you and Adam.
Speaking of Abel, he's a good boi. Cain calls him Mr. Perfect sometimes because Abel has some natural talent. He's especially good with music, much to Adam's delight. Still, he looks up to his brother and despite Cain's jealousy, they do get along nicely. They have this little game where they're building their own city and decide over several elements of it. Abel somehow always brings sheep into the mix, but his brother isn't complaining.
Abel doesn't play favorites and says he loves you and Adam equally. He always wants to make sure the two of you are present at the same time when showing his accomplishments or what he's found. Speaking of which, he has special interests that last for a while until he moves on to another one or some just last a very long time. An example would be sheep, as mentioned before. He even has a lamb plushie (I can see him watching Lamb Chop's Play Along and loving the show). Cain knows how precious this little lamb is to Abel and will raise chaos if it ever gets lost or stolen (he calls the plush "The Chosen").
Here's a funny little thing: the boys not recognizing Adam in the mask he wears. From the day they were born, they always saw their father without his mask and have grown used to seeing his actual face. One day, they ask you where he was and you tell them it's work related but he'll be back to teach them some new songs. Just imagine Adam coming back, calling out that he's home, which cause the boys to rush up to him. Then they just stop because... "Mama, who's this stranger in our house!?" Abel literally starts crying— saying this isn't papa. Meanwhile Cain's mind immediately says violence is the answer (thanks, Adam). You have to calm both boys down and explain to them about the mask.
Flight lessons are stressful. It all started when Cain began jumping off of the furniture and escalated to him jumping off the bunk bed (because it'd be adorable for them to have bunk beds). So, it seems like it was time to show the boys how to use their wings. It's harder than it looks. Abel isn't okay with jumping off from anywhere unless Cain is going to jump with him. Fine with his brother because he enjoys doing this. Eventually, they're able to fly and it's a joy! They can fly around Heaven with you and Adam and it's absolutely adorable.
Cain and Abel have different ways to refer to you and Adam. Cain calls Adam 'dad' or 'papa' but does call him 'father' when he's upset or serious. Meanwhile, he calls you 'mama', 'mommy', or 'mom' (mom is more frequent when around others or strangers) and it's rare when he calls you mother. Abel just calls you two mama and papa. He'll only use mother and father if he's around people he doesn't know or meeting for the first time.
I have more thoughts about these little beans such as how they are around Lute (#1 and only Babysitter), Emily (Abel affectionately calls her Auntie Em), Sera and possibly Lucifer and Charlie (because you can't tell me Adam would not brag about having kids 💀). Like, I can see Cain being brutally honest when he first sees Lucifer because he's that type of kid. Will 100% make a comment about the man's height. There's also the fact that both boys are into music like their father. Abel once asked, "So if that's Queen, then who's the King?" when Adam tells them about Queen. Also, I can very much see Cain getting into gardening. If you want more of these then let me know!
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holylulusworld · 6 months
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Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (2)
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Summary: Your marriage starts rocky.
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Wife!Reader
Warnings: shy reader, fluff, getting to know each other, implied innocent reader
A/N: A collection of drabbles on how you became Mrs. Sherlock Holmes.
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes (1)
Mrs. Sherlock Holmes masterlist
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“She was small, but strong,” while you describe your attackers to Lestrade, Sherlock won’t leave your side. He stands behind you, his hands on the backrest of the chair you’re sitting on.
“Can you describe her features? Her hair and clothes maybe,” Inspector Lestrade asks as he looks at your husband for confirmation to interrogate you.
“I got something better.” You shove your sketchbook toward the Inspector. He thumbs through the sketches you drew. “You’re quite talented, Mrs. Holmes.”
Your cheeks heat up when Lestrade looks at a drawing of your husband.
“You can draw?” Sherlock locks at the drawing, wondering what else he doesn’t know about you.
“It’s nothing…I…only do it when I’m alone and got nothing else to do. Mrs. Demeter won’t let me anywhere near the kitchen, or the garden. So, I draw from my memory.”
“Impressive, Mrs. Holmes,” Lestrade exclaims as he looks at the drawing of the woman running into you. “You got her features, even her eyes.”
“My thank you, Inspector,” you try not to squeal in joy when he looks at the drawing of your attacker in awe. “This is too kind of you.”
“You’re very talented,” Sherlock places his hand on your shoulder, making your heart flutter at the compliment. Hearing it from Lestrade was nice, but your husband’s praise means so much more to you. “We should get you more drawing utensils.”
“Sir, that’s kind of you but,” you shy away from your husband, and drop your gaze as the Inspector looks at you, “I don’t need more.”
Sherlock clears his throat, disappointment barely hidden on his features. You seem to pull away anytime he tries to do something nice for you.
“We will discuss this later. If I want to spoil my wife, I’ll do it.”
Lestrade drops his eyes to the drawing of your attacker again. “Mrs. Holmes, can I take the drawings of them with me?”
“Oh, of course, Inspector. You can keep them if it helps you find them,” you carefully remove the pages from the sketchbook.
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“Have a look around, Precious. I want you to choose all the utensils you’ll need for drawing.” You know he means well, but you don’t want to be in public after you get attacked and feel uneasy as everyone seems to watch Sherlock walk you around.
“Sir…can we go back home? I don’t need anything,” you murmur, not daring to speak any louder.
“Are you unwell,” Sherlock asks and dips his head to look at you. “We can get the utensils later. I want you to have everything you wish for.”
You don’t dare tell him that all you want is his attention and for Sherlock not to leave you alone at the large house. “I’d love to go home, Sir.”
“Precious, please stop calling me Sir,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re my wife now, call me Sherlock. I want us to get to know each other better. In any way.”
Heat floods your face. Your cheeks feel hot, and you make an odd noise. “In any way,” you whisper and touch your hot cheek. "I-I..." You don't know what to say, so you nod and let him guide you toward the carriage waiting for you.
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“Sir, Mr. Holmes,” Mrs. Demeter follows your husband around the house. He insisted on sharing his bedroom with you since you got robbed, and she’s not having it. “This is inappropriate! She should sleep in her room! Your wife needs to know her place!”
He raises his voice. “I let you get away with your behavior far too long. Mrs. Holmes and I are married. She’s my wife. You’ll pay her the needed respect, or you are dismissed.”
“You want to let me go?” She asks. “I took care of you for almost ten years. I helped you when you came home drunk or showed all the women you brought home the way out. She’s no different.”
“I think you forgot your place! NEVER,” he yells now and towers over Mrs. Demeter, “compare my sweet and innocent wife with the wenches I brought home to satisfy my needs. I won’t have it!”
You are fast asleep, unaware of the things he throws at the head housekeeper. He storms off, huffing as she follows him. Mrs. Demeter repeatedly apologizes and begs him not to release her from her duty.
“Get out of my sight! I’ll consider accepting your apology in the morning.” Sherlock storms upstairs, panting heavily. He stops in front of his bedroom, taking deep breaths to not scare you.
Sherlock closes his eyes and imagines your face as he tries to control the anger he feels. No, not just anger. There is a beast inside of him telling him to finally claim his bride, but he cannot treat you like all the women he had before you.
"I need to do this right..."
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You stir in your sleep, but he shushes you. “Sleep. I need you well rested when we meet my brother and sister. It’s going to be an exhausting day.”
“Sherlock?” You murmur.
“Precious and so sweet,” Sherlock whispers as he moves closer to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Tempting too.” He nuzzles his face in your neck. “I’m going to taste your sweetness soon, my love.”
Part 3
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Tags in reblog.
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zombholic · 7 months
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TATTOOS & ETC. — abby anderson
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summary — y/n visits las vegas for vacation before college starts, she gets her first big tattoo piece there only to meet the owner of the shop.
description — tattoo artist!abby, poc fem!reader, obviously older abby, modern au, cant write smut so dont expect it, and ofc its gonna be a long story.
— 🗝️  ◦ ✺   💿  ⟢ —
“So I booked a tattoo appointment for tomorrow, the artist had someone cancel and she filled me in.” You smiled talking to your friend who came along with you on your vacation before university.
“Wait it’s that wrap around tattoo you wanted on your thigh right?” She asked as she took a sip of her alcoholic drink.
“Yes, dude you know how long I’ve been wanting that for!” The piece was gonna break your bank account but your girl math said it was basically free since it would be on for the rest of your life.
The morning of the appointment you decided to wear baggy sweats and a black wife pleaser, couldn’t risk anything rubbing against your new collection to your body.
You walked inside hearing the little bell chime as the door opened, you walked up to the small desk to meet a young girl with tattoos scattered along her arms and neck.
“Hey, appointment or walk in?” She smiled cheerfully looking up from her computer and at you.
“Appointment with Jasmine, I’m y/n” You leaned forward on the desk returning a small smile, she had you follow her to the back and had you sit on the chair telling you that Jasmine will meet you in a minute.
“Hey Y/n! How you feeling?” A short masculine woman sat in her rolling chair sliding over to you with toothiest smile, a small gem glued on her canine that blinged with the light.
“Feeling a little nervous but i’ve been wanting this tattoo for a year now, kinda stalked your page and I love the way you draw floral pieces.” You complimented her work, she was truly talented.
She had asked you to remove your sweats, now in your boy shorts and laying on your side after she applied the stencil. The buzzing of the gun started making you nervous but you being you kept your cool, the needle now digging into your plush thighs had you clenching your jaw.
You went on your phone trying to distract yourself from the painful spots she was doing, you heard the bell from the front door jingle followed by a couple of greetings before a tall, muscular woman who was covered in art walk into the back where you were.
“Hey Jazz.” She greeted your artist, her voice made you want to squeeze your legs together.
“Hey Abby, what’re you doing here? isn’t it your day off?” Jasmine paused for a moment to talk to Abby before focusing back on you. She asked you to lay on your back and spread your legs so she could finish the inner thigh part.
“This part will hurt so just tell me if you need anything ok?” The artist reassured you, nodding your head she came back down with the needle.
“Fuck, oh my god.” You bit down on your fist, squeezing your eyes shut, your chest heaving.
“I’m the owner dumbass, I have paperwork shit to do.” She chuckled, her blue eyes now on you and your tattoo.
“That’s a gorgeous piece.” Abby complimented, her giant arms crossing her chest as she now focused on your thigh.
“Yeah and it hurts like a motherfucker.” You giggled looking up at her.
Abby swore her heart started beating out her chest when she saw you look at her, she was definitely calling you the gorgeous piece she just couldn’t keep her eyes off you.
“Here hold my arm, I know how badly that part hurts.” You took her arm, digging your short nails into her forearm god for some reason she was turned on by you being in pain.
When the inner thigh part was finished you released your hand from Abby, quickly apologizing for hurting her.
“You’re fine sweetheart, didn’t even feel it.” A chuckle escaped her lips, winking at you before walking off to where you could assume was her office.
“Annnd you’re all done girl!” Your artist wrapped your thigh, looking in the body mirror you couldn’t stop cheesing.
“You are literally so fucking talented what?” Your comment made her blush.
“Gonna leave without letting me see?” Abby’s voice came from behind, you looked up at the mirror to see the blonde walk up behind you.
“She can have my whole bank account” You turned around to show her the beautiful piece wrapped around your thigh.
“Here, lemme walk you to the front.” Abby smiled as you had slid back into your sweats and walked over to the desk.
Abby leaned forward while on the computer, you would honestly thank her if she punched you in the face right now.
“Want a picture sweetheart?” She joked, a cocky grin plastering her face as she looked at you.
“I think I want your number more.” You impressed her with your boldness, majority of people being so deathly afraid of her.
“Yes ma’am.” She licked her lips, taking your phone and adding her contact.
“I’ll text you the details for our date on Friday.” Abby laughed but she wasn’t joking, this was her asking you out and you happily accepted.
— 🗝️  ◦ ✺   💿  ⟢ —
authors note — guys was this good … and do yall want another part EHEHEHEHE also like thank you @atomicami for basically inventing tattoo artist!abby 😩🫶🏼
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sukioyakio · 20 days
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Saw some gojo drawings of him being a cowboy.Just wanted to share my thoughts on it. (Femreader)
might not be well edited 😭✌️
Cowboy!gojo,Who lives his whole life in his little sort of town, where it had enough food and water but enough for people to be able to use electricity. And its where he works as a cowboy in one big ranch. He just as well know about everyone in the little town, and they know him I mean who wouldn’t.The handsome white headed cowboy, the cutie that the girls would die for to be his wife, and the gorgeous blue eyes cowboy.
Cowboy!gojo,Who immediately knew when he saw you that he didn’t ever see you before. But you had this glow around you that brought him wondering. Probably that city girl glow he said to his mind, he cant say that he never went to other places or travel the world in which he did he pretty much enjoy it to top to bottom. But he prefer his little town he knows from the bottom of his heart.
He just had to come to you and he wanted to have his first appearance with you to be good. But it just happens that a car drove by a mud puddle.
“Helloooo there I hadn’t se- A red car drove by hitting the mud puddle and perfectly aimed on Gojo’s body and hair. You had no idea what just happened but you couldn’t help but laugh at his blanked expression. You hadn’t even heard what he had said before but you waved him off. Before saying. ”You might need a shower of a hour or two, see you later sir” You added with a sly smirk walking off with a sarcastic tone. He saw everything he needed to know that you just obtain his cowboy ass heart. He who is smiling like a dork after seeing a crush. Walking around with mud on his body like it’s nothing.
I just know that cowboy!gojo, who would have his signature smirk on every time he’s playing with the other cowboys. But he puts that smirk more widely when your around.(I don’t know if cowboys do races)
Cowboy!gojo, Who purposely trying to do anything to grab your attention. Sitting on his horse while they walk or jogging balls while the horse sprints. Wanting nothing more than to see you smile at his stupid shenanigans. It just bursts his ego with such warmth that he would have such a dorky grin on his face that his best friend playfully nudged his shoulder and ask him why he’s smiling like that.
“Gojo what the hell are you doing right now”Shoko stated as she sees him sitting on his black horse four beer bottles in air as he juggled them up and down. Gojo who didn’t hear shoko at all. Shoko couldn’t see who he was doing that for from the view she had and so she walked towards him. ’What is that idiot doing with my beer.’ She says but she stop when she see you rolling your eyes playfully and huffing a bit of laughter at his tactics. Shoko looks at you and knew immediately that she never saw you before and she looks at Gojo and sees that Manchild smiling like a highschool boy after their crush saying hi to them.And she knew that he was absolutely in love with you. “What you didn’t think I can juggle,huh” He says with a large smile on his lips. And beautiful blues eyes that were aimed towards your attention. “Definitely not on your horse I didn’t,your pretty talented guy that I can tell”You replied to him with a cheeky smile,looking at him with your arm crossed.The sarcasm in your voice wasn’t that hard to not notice.
Cowboy!Gojo,Who loves Fucking with you,He just like seeing if he can get to see how many adorable expressions can be on your face. Especially if he finds you reading a book on the grass field right next to the ranch house,in the quiet silence.In which he would purposely scare you with his loud voice. (edited)
It was pretty uneventful at the ranch.Which meant that he had more time to relax or catch up with you,his pretty princess.Ever since the last time he visit you which was like yesterday he had called you that nickname ‘pretty princess or princess’. and then you heard you mutter 'what a annoying knight’. And so he decided to call that every time he see you.He’s walking by the forest part of the park where it just outstanding beautiful, with the view of the green trees and perfectly shaved grass.He instantly see you and notices that didn’t see him or even hear him. Which hurt his little cowboy heart.But then a thought come up. I wonder what she does when she alone. He walks towards you with such ease that you didn’t even notice that.And Then BANG A gun shot blow up right next to you, making you jump up like a cat in fear.You quickly turn to your side to only get jump on by a white headed and all dessed cowboy. “Oh my fucking god!!What the hell was that For!” You yelled at him as your chest going up and down due to shear panic attack you almost got. while You could hear his laughter through the whole time.He just smiled and ruffles your hair.You groan quietly. ”Your alright,I’m right here princess.But woah are y’all city girls like this,pretty looking and addictive scary cats but don’t worry your knight in shining armor is here” You were so ready to punch him for doing that,but didn’t fell like doing that and so instead you just grumble and rolled your eyes,and huff out breath. “Oh yeah,I forgot to learn that I now have a knight in shining armor,that works at a ranch how lovely are you- -Satoru Gojo” god how he love the way his name rolls of your tongue.It like hearing the beautiful morning breeze.He lips can’t help but smile and laugh softly after seeing your cute frown on face.And then he already forgot what he wanted to came here to do.
Cowboy!gojo, who tried so hard to focus into something else but can’t seem to find anything,because you got him acting like a coward when he supposed to be a confident cowboy.After he saw you in some chaps (here links of the outfit- here ). You got him walking around with a half hard on.
Cowboy!gojo, who hear you laugh at him after his lovely horse kick him off her back while training,and even laugh more at the fact that he tried to act like that didn’t happen.He would just rolls his eyes and pull out his tongue.Like a man child his is.But cant help to put his hat on your face to cover his fluster face,chuckling really loudly.
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THAT ALL I HAVE THERE AND I HOPE LIKE IT
also here I FINALLY FOUND WELL SORT THE ART of cowboy Gojo, But it not the one I saw.
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The artist link Here go check them out
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skbeaumont · 1 month
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Texas Heat | Joel x Reader
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Chapter 2: Same time next week?
Series masterlist Chapter 1 here
Chp. 2 summary: Your first tutoring session with Sarah goes as expected, until Joel gets home and sends your head spinning. Rating: Teen (for now) Tags/Warnings: flirting, sexual tension, age difference (reader is 25, Joel is 37), AU no outbreak Word Count: 2.4k A/N: Blown away by the response to my posts so far, thank you all so much! This story will be updated every Friday unless otherwise specified. Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist for this and others.
Taglist: @mysterialee
The next couple of days pass by in a flurry of jetlag. The Adlers are nice: Easy to get on with, friendly but not in a way that makes you feel like you’re living on top of them. Connie’s cooking is good, if a little repetitive, and Danny is sweet and makes you laugh, telling you stories about his youth living in Austin. Nana doesn’t speak, but she has your mum’s eyes, and you spend the evenings sitting by her in the living room, reading the stack of novels you brought with you, enjoying the easy company and warm sunlight.
You see Joel outside through the window one early morning, casually ask Connie about him as you watch him load toolboxes and ladders into the bed of his truck. One kid, Sarah, a brother who lives with him, most of the time, no wife. This last shouldn’t send a spike of something like excitement down the back of your spine, but it does. You’d just assumed he was married when he’d told you about Sarah – no wedding ring, but working in construction, that made sense.
The knowledge that there isn’t a Mrs Miller makes you re-evaluate the car journey back from the airport, the way he’d let his arm rest along the back of your seat, that teasing, mischievous glint in his eye as he’d said goodbye, promising to take you up on your offer of maths lessons for Sarah. Those thoughts keep you up late that night, pressing your thighs together beneath the thin cotton top sheet in the Adler’s guest room.
Early Sunday evening you bump into Sarah in the driveway when you get back from Walmart, equipped with a new US sim card for your mobile. She’s sweet, even prettier in real life than in the photo you saw, not at all shy like you were when you were her age.
“Dad said you’re good at math,” she says without preamble, appearing from the side of Joel’s truck, looking at you with a sideways expression that’s a mix of consideration and incredulity.
“Pretty good, yeah.” You reply, stomach jolting at the thought of Joel talking about you, even if it’s to say something as benign as how talented you are at maths. “I’d be happy to help you out with homework, or whatever, if you want. I promise I’ll try not to make it too boring.”
Sarah smiles at this, the incredulity in her face morphing into approval, or as close to approval a thirteen year old can manage.
“You coming, Sarah?” Joel says, stepping out of the front door, head down as he examines something on the phone he’s holding. “Oh,” he says, looking up and seeing you, “hey.”
“Hi.”
He’s dressed the same as he was when he picked you up from the airport; dark t-shirt over faded jeans, the knees a little worn, but he’s wearing a baseball cap today, pulling his messy curls back from his forehead. You feel a blush inching up your neck as he so obviously tries to avoid checking you out in the tiny shorts you pulled on that morning.
“How are you settling in?” He asks, moving to stand next to Sarah by the truck.
He crosses his arms against his chest and the movement draws your eyes to his biceps, struggling against the tight sleeves of his tee. There’s a thin slither of a tan line just above where his shirt naturally falls, paler skin peeking out. It makes your head swim.
You clear you throat, refocus your eyes on his face.
“Good, I think. It’s a big change, but it’s nice. Hot, though.”
“Texan summers.” He replies, “Take a bit of getting used to if you ain’t suffered through one before.”
“I’ll say.”
“Sarah’s keen on those lessons, by the way.” He puts a hand on the girl’s shoulder, shakes her about so that she giggles. “Here,” He pulls out his mobile. “You got a US number yet?”
“Just picked up a new sim, actually” You pull your own mobile out, read off your number to him so that he can put it into his phone.
“I’ll text you later on,” He says, “we’re just heading out now.”
You say your goodbyes and leave the sweltering heat of the driveway, listening to Joel’s truck start up and pull off. Inside, Mercy greets you, rests her head on your knee as you collapse onto the sofa, clutching your mobile to your chest.
True to his word, Joel texts later that evening as you’re getting ready for bed.
Glad ur settling in ok. Would Tuesday work for math with Sarah? She gets back from school around 4. Joel.
You type out several draft replies before finally sending one that matches his straight-to-the-point tone.
Thanks. Tuesday works for me. See you then.
His response doesn’t arrive until the next morning, and when it does, your stomach sinks.
Sounds great. Will just be Sarah though, I’m working late Tuesday.
It’s almost embarrassing how disappointed you are by those last four words. In your head, it had been you, Sarah and Joel around their kitchen table, Joel’s toned forearms resting on warped wood, his deep chuckle in your ear as you worked through maths problems with Sarah. This makes you feel guilty, of course, because the whole point of this exercise is helping Sarah with her maths homework, not flirting with her father.
You fall back against the pillows of your bed. Around you, the room is already starting to feel a little like home. All of your toiletries are stacked up on the dressing table, and you’ve put your clothes away into the generous walk-in closet. Your books are scattered about the room, a few on the bedside table, another pile of them next to the full length mirror. The bed sheets are cool when you slip beneath them, bare legs sliding against soft cotton.
You stare at the green-grey light of your Nokia, looking at the last text from Joel, wondering if you should reply or just leave it. Best to play it cool, you decide, but restraint’s never been your strong suit and before you can stop yourself you’re typing out a reply, hitting the send button and grinning into the pillowcase.
That’s a shame. I was looking forward to testing your addition skills.
He doesn’t reply.
*****
Tuesday rolls around, bringing unrelenting sun and a dry heat that keeps you indoors most of the day. You help Connie rearrange her DVDs – an impressive collection – and take Nana out onto the porch in the early afternoon, waiting for Sarah to get home from school.
It’s just before four when she appears at the end of the cul-de-sac, hair bouncing around her shoulders as she makes her way towards you. She’s got her school bag slung over one shoulder, jeans rolled up at the ankles, a pair of scruffy Nikes on her feet. 
“Hi, Nana, Connie,” she calls as she approaches the porch, gaze turning to you, “math whizz,” she finishes, grinning.
“Hi yourself,” you return, pushing yourself out of the deckchair, brushing crumbs off of your bare legs. You say a quick bye to the Adlers and follow Sarah up her own driveway and into the cool, still air of the Miller’s kitchen.
It’s a little disorderly: there are pots scattered on the kitchen sides, and a menagerie of clutter on the table which sits under a window, bright afternoon sunlight streaming in. Sarah dumps her school bag on this, pushes a notepad, two tape measures and a pair of mugs out of the way so that you can sit beside her.
“Okay,” she says, drawing out an exercise book and placing it in front of her, “before we get into this I need you to understand that math is my weakest subject.”
“Right,” You say, watching her serious expression as she pushes the book across the table towards you, “understood.”
“And you need to promise me you won’t judge me based solely on my algebra skills, or lack of them.”
This makes you laugh, a chuckle bubbling up out of your throat. Sarah holds your gaze, her face still serious.
“Sorry,” you say, “I mean to say, I would never judge anyone based on their maths skills.”
Sarah’s face breaks into a grin. “I’m just messing with you.” She says, laughing at the look on your face. “I am pretty bad at algebra, though.”
She’s not. You work through a dozen or so exercises, helping her when she gets stuck, showing her where she’s going wrong, but she’s actually fairly good at the calculations once you’ve explained it to her a couple of times. The afternoon goes by quickly. After two hours or so Sarah stretches in her chair, yawning.  
“You wanna stay for dinner?” She asks, pushing the exercise book away from her. “It’s just leftover chicken casserole, but there’s enough if you want some.”
“Oh, uh, sure.”
You sit by as she reheats the casserole, refusing your offers of help. Instead, you look around the rest of the room, searching out little hints of Joel that are tucked about: A pair of worn leather sandals by the back door, two plaid shirts hanging on the back of the door to the living room, a battered, dog-eared copy of a drill instruction manual, well-read and ringed with coffee stains.
It’s comfortingly domestic, and it makes your chest ache a little, thinking of your mum back home in London, all the friends and familiarity you left behind. Then Sarah’s placing a hot plate of casserole in front of you, joking about the fact that you don’t look very much like a mathematician, by which she means you don’t resemble Albert Einstein.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” You tell her, and she smiles.
“You should. You’re much prettier than he was.”
You help Sarah do the dishes, stacking them neatly on the side to be put away later. After, Sarah asks if you want to stay and watch a movie, and you both spread yourselves out on the sofa in the Miller’s living room, flick on the television and watch Tim Allen and Sigourney Weaver mess about in outer space.
Sarah falls asleep before the film ends, even though the sun hasn’t fully set and its barely ten. You’re debating waking her when there’s a rattling from the kitchen and the sound of the front door creaking open. Joel.
You hear him clear his throat, scrape his boots on the door mat and then his deep voice is cutting through the silence of the house. “Sarah? You still up, baby?”
Sarah shifts where she’s asleep next to you but doesn’t stir. You push yourself off the sofa, step into the kitchen. Joel’s pulling off a toolbelt from around his waist, thick fingers unbuckling the clasp in a way that makes your heart rate jump up.
“Hey,” You say, leaning against the doorframe.
He jumps, his eyes shooting up to you before recognition softens his gaze.
“Hi,” He replies, finally working the toolbelt off and letting it drop onto the worktop beside him, “I didn’t expect you to still be here. Everything alright?”
“Oh, yeah, fine. Sarah made me dinner and we watched a movie. Well, she fell asleep.”
Joel chuckles at this, rolling his eyes, “Yeah, she has a habit of doin’ that.”
“Work okay?” You ask, thinking you should probably leave him to a restful evening, not wanting to at all.
“Long,” He says, rubbing at the coarse stubble on the side of his jaw. “How did math go?”
“Good. She’s bright, just needed a little bit of guidance with it.”
“Always been switched on. Dunno where she gets it from.” He steps around the kitchen island, rolling his jacket down off of his shoulders as he goes, narrow hips winding around the island and the fridge toward you.
He pulls a ten dollar note out of his back pocket, hands it to you between two thick, calloused fingers. “For the lesson,” He says.
“You don’t have to, Joel, honestly.”
“S’only fair, darlin’” He proffers the note again and you take it, trying not to think about the way that casual darlin’ has gone straight to your head, blood rushing to your cheeks so that they feel like they’re on fire.
“She in there?” Joel asks then, nodding behind you to the lounge. “Oh, yeah,” You turn, let Joel look past you into the darkness of the living room, where Sarah is spread out on the sofa, breathing deeply, eyes flickering in the dull light from the paused DVD. 
As he leans into the room he steps toward you, the movement bringing him distractingly close, making you notice how much taller he is than you, how much broader. The t-shirt he’s wearing is stretched almost painfully across his shoulders, wear showing in the stressed seams. The patchy stubble at his jaw is longer than it was a few days ago, covering the sharpness of his jaw, the strong lines of his throat.
He looks away from Sarah’s form on the sofa then, his dark eyes flicking over your face, catching you watching him. You feel a blush creeping along your neck and up to your cheeks, and try to look away, but he’s holding your gaze, pupils wide in the dim light. Then his eyes dip down to your lips, follow the slight movement of your tongue as it worries at the edge of your mouth.
You can feel heat rolling off of him in waves and you wonder how it would be to push yourself up onto tip-toes and kiss the corner of his plush lower lip. This close, you can see the thin creases that line his eyes, the beginnings of grey in his dark eyebrows, raised slightly and pinching in the middle as he looks at you.
Your head is tilted up, your breath mingling in the dizzyingly narrow space between you. He clears his throat. You both realise, quite suddenly, how close you’re standing. Before you can say anything he’s moving back, tension breaking as he takes the white-hot heat of his body with him, leaving you flushed and dizzy.
“I should get Sarah to bed.” He says into the silence.
There’s a flush in his tanned face, painting his cheeks a deep red-brown, evidence that you aren’t alone in your distraction, in the surge of arousal that seems to be lighting you up from the inside. He runs a hand through already dishevelled hair.
“Right,” you reply, hoping he can’t hear the quaver in your throat, “I should head home.”
Outside, you rest for a moment against the wall next to the Adler’s front door.
Your heart is still thumping in your chest, each beat a reminder of the look in Joel’s eyes as he towered over you, his breath hot on your face, pupils blown wide because of the darkness, or maybe something else.
Before you get inside, your phone buzzes. The text is from Joel.
Same time next week?
You grin at the screen.
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seahydra · 2 months
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HEY GUYS. SO. I commissioned the VERY wonderful and very talented @gach-artblog to draw Laz and my wife out on a date in a garden and. ISN'T IT SOOOOOOOO PERFECT. I'm so happy!!!!!!!!!!!! 💥💥💥
Also they included a little extra thing with it whichIS ALSO SO CUTE LOOK (under the cut ww)
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LOVE ABUNDANT. YAAAAAAAAAAY!
taglistLOOK AT THIS FUCKING!!! THE!!!: @kylars-princess @sweethardtz @nep-ships @gible-love-nibles @lovinggreeniehours @prismaticuniverses @flowering-darkness (if you guys don't mind me taggin your new blogs now too!)
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bones4thecats · 3 months
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What Are They Like With A Rafiki! S/O?
Type of Writing: #7 - Poll Result Characters: Cater Diamond, Leona Kingscholar, and Lilia Vanrouge Name: What Are They Like With A Rafiki! S/O? Original Poll Link: Here
A/N: My hands are currently dying! I'm making the special stuff for the 19th! Also, I will not be posting that much that day, since I'll be out of my home for the day to spend time with my family. Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this!
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💎 Cater first heard about you from Ace and Deuce, and he had to admit, you sounded quite entertaining
💎 You were noted by many to be quite nutty-sounding, as, whenever someone came to you for advice, you'd offer it in tounges. Words sewn together for the listener to figure out for themselves
💎 Even he'd have to admit, for someone who uses hashtags and quite a bit of social-media related lingoes in his sentences, your words were confusing!
💎 But, once he got past of all of that and he saw how tame you were with maintaining this 'Circle of Life', which he guessed you meant by how things chase others and whatnot, Cater grew to start admiring you
💎 The reason you used those metaphors to drive many insane was because it taught them to think and learn that wisdom is not something you can just grab, but it's something that one must learn, with difficulty, after all, as you say;
" Nothing is easy to obtain when it comes to wisdom. Wisdom is something that pushes and pulls on your struggles and weak spots like children playing tug-of-war in elementary school. "
💎 Cater loves to mess around with people, especially when you come into the mix and make them not only annoyed, but confused beyond belief
💎 It also makes him laugh when you play chess with your old friend, Leona. You're basically the only person that he knows that can beat him in the strategic game
💎 He also adores watching you draw things using some random items, such as fruits and flower's petals/colorings to make one colorful
💎 Your boyfriend loves posting stuff on his Magicam, and ever since he noticed how amazing you were with both magic and hand-to-hand combat, he would take videos of you training in Savanaclaw and post them with a classic Cater-style hashtag
" Oh, my lovely S/O is so talented with that bakora stick! " #caycay'sdarlings/o #caycay'ss/otraining #caycay'saveragedaywiths/o
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🦁 Leona and you grew up together
🦁 While his ego blocked him from doing so, deep down in his heart, he admired how talented you were with magic and your words
🦁 He also found it entertaining watching you speak with your words twisted around to confuse everyone, including his older brother, Falena, and his wife
🦁 Leona first became interested in you when you began to study the darker-parts of magic, the stuff that your family and ancestor had banned from being learned in your home
🦁 Due to your flaw in 'rule-remembering', you were transferred into Night Raven College, just after your first years at Royal Sword Academy and NRC respectively
🦁 People from all different dorms could tell there was some tension between the Savanaclaw housewarden and the vice-housewarden, and Ruggie used this to his advantage a lot
🦁 Or, he attempted too...
🦁 The two of you are very strong apart, but when you come together against something, those you have seen you fight know that that person better just hand in the towel, unless they want to get their asses handed to them
🦁 Leona loves watching you use your wisdom to your advantage, teaching your under-classman about the value of knowledge and acceptance of all types of magic
🦁 He also adores watching you train with a new member of Savanaclaw each year, using your mandrill-beastman abilities to leap into the trees to hide and plan you next attack or use your bakora stick to whoop them into place
🦁 By the way, he plays chess with you whenever he maintains energy, and he gets very grumpy when you win. And by that, I mean he doesn't let you get up from your napping-sessions for two hours
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🦇 You were the mentor of the Kingscholar brothers, so, when you walked up to their group of four Night Raven College students when visiting the beastman's homeland for the Tamashina-Mina Event, he gained an extreme interest in you
🦇 He noticed that Leona was appearing annoyed, but in his eyes he held a glint of adoration and joy at seeing you so joyous at meeting his so-called 'friends'
🦇 When he asked Leona about you after you left, he learned everything
🦇 You and your friend Kifaji were the maintainers of their home and helped raise the boys whenever their parents were busy with their royal duties, and you had been the main caretaker of the younger of the boys
🦇 From teaching him about magic styles to the many ways to fight hand-to-hand, you were the person who Leona was closest to, and Lilia had to admit, he was smitten by your personality from the start
🦇 Despite your age, you were a very well-versed person. You were fairly eccentric and happy-go-lucky, and the way you spoke made everyone who heard you confused
🦇 All except Lilia, who understood exactly what you were saying
🦇 Lilia and you quickly bonded and began spending a lot of time together, and when he went to perform his part of the event, you gave him a big thumbs up, showing your support full-on
🦇 Leona wasn't very happy to see his only parental figure being close to such a 'fae-dickhead', but, he had to admit, seeing you so happy and carefree with the guy made him feel slightly good
🦇 Before he had left to go back to his adoptive son(s), he gave you his number, winking at you and slyly telling you to message him sometime
🦇 He has never felt thing young in years!
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linnienin · 10 months
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🌛A s t e r o i d ⁕ S a l o m è🌜 ( 5 6 2 ) and the Dance of the Seven Veils
~~~~~~~~~~~ Y o u r ⁕ e n c h a n t i n g ⁕ e n e r g y ~~~~~~~~~~~
An astro walkthrough post following Salomè's steps in the Dance of the Seven Veils through the lens of the Seven Deadly Sins.
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The gifs in this post (excluded the last one) were created by me and are from the movie "Salomè" (1953) with Rita Hayworth
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"Look at the moon! How strange the moon seems! She is like a woman rising from the tomb. She is like a dead woman. You would fancy she was looking for dead things."
"Salomè", Oscar Wilde
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕���⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
W h o ⁕ i s ⁕ S a l o m è (quick summary of her story):
⁕ Salomè, the princess of Judaea, falls in love with the prophet John The Baptist (i'll refer to him as 'the prophet' to avoid repeating his name too much) and orders to free him from the prison he was held in (for condemning the marriage of Salome's parents, King Herod and his wife Herodias as unlawful)
⁕ The prophet rejects her, but she assures him she will kiss his mouth sooner or later, no matter what.
⁕ Salome's mother in the meantime convinces her daughter to view the prophet as an evil person that deserves to die (alimenting her fresh feeling from the rejection)
⁕ When Salomè is asked by her stepfather king Herod (who lusts over her) to dance she agrees only if she can asks anything in return.
⁕ Once the dance's over, Salomè requests the decapitated head of John the Baptist on a silver plate.
⁕ To the horror of all the partecipants, she finally kisses the mouth of the prophet consumed by her lustful desires.
⁕ King Herod, sickened and shocked, orders her execution.
(this is the William Shakespeare opera version based on the biblical one)
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M y ⁕ i n t e r p r e t a t i o n :
In a birth chart Asteroid Salomè represents:
⁕ Your enchanting power
⁕ How people target your naivety to use your talent
⁕ The extremes you're ready to face in order to get what you want.
⁕ What you want but can't have
⁕ What desires consumes you
I also want to make a quick clarification between asteroid Salomè and Sirene because both are seducing and mesmerizing energies, but imo: Sirene : conscious type of seduction, aim for what they want, in control of their actions , calculated Salomè: unconscious type of seduction, influenced by others in their choices, controlled by their desires, not in control of themselves
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P o s t ⁕ g u i d e:
I'll go through the steps of the whole Dance and make them into little sections:
⁕ Every section is about one of the Seven Deadly Sins ⁕ Within every section there will be interpretations of different Salomè signs/degrees, depending on which Sins they fall into (in my personal opinion)
Disclaimer: every single sign could fall into every single sin since they're all part of human nature, but one would always prevail on others imo, and this is just my personal take on them.
Enjoy ✨
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1 s t ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : P R I D E
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⁕ Leo Salomè/Salomè at 5°-17°-29° : You enchant with your confidence and talent. Your creativity allows you to shine from within and make a strong impression on people.
⁕ You draw attention to yourself easily, and others envy this, so they target your individuality to trigger the worst out of you. They want to robb you of your 'Main character' type of energy, using your exposition and will to take up space, to their own interest. They feed your ego only to break your mirror into several pieces later, leaving you not recognizing yourself anymore. You'll find yourself becoming riddiculous just to gain that attention again, blending with the masses for validation, but feeling extremely guilty and shameful about it. This is how they trigger your pride. ⁕ You have a great desire to be able to show yourself without getting judged. You want to dive deep into your creative mind and feel accepted and appreciated for your dramatic and showy persona. When people don't understand your needs, you can get arrogant, narcissistic and selfish .
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⁕ Aquarius Salomè/Salomè at 11°-23°: You enchant with your uniqueness and innovation. Your mindblowing perspectives draws people in and out of curiosity, and you release them with more confusion and even more questions, to trap them in getting back to you.
⁕ You know this is your strategy to create multiple connections and dodge your way to the top, but envious people want to stop you from climbing up that ladder. They'll use you and your network for their own interests, but turning their back to you once they get what they want. This is how they trigger your pride. ⁕ When no one truly deeply understand you, your different view and quirky personality, you start to doubt your identity, facing the negative effects of feeling like the black sheep. You lose the courage to stand up for yourself as you isolate from the world with no track of time and completely dissociating from reality. You become inexistent, cause you won't merge with the masses. A great desire to instill change and put reality in discussion burns in you, but if people keep overlooking your ideas, you just explode and can become rebellious, distant and unpredictable.
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2 n d ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : G R E E D
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⁕ Capricorn Salomè/Salomè at 10°-22° : You enchant with your loyalty and perseverance. Your disciplined and committed persona inspire people, but they also get envious of all the accomplishments you've achieved with such resiliency.
⁕ You view life simply and clearly, this is what allows you to be so precise with no hesitation when making important choices. And because this is such a rare quality, people want to robb you of it and use it for themselves and their interests. However, you base your self worth on materialism and achievements and when people don't validate them, you only want to get more to prove yourself. This is how others target your weeknesses and trigger your greed. ⁕ They show you the best of everything to make you feel inferior and in consequence wanting it all. But the truth is you don't need it all to feel complete within. You have a great desire to feel the best and most powerful of all, but because you attach your emotions to the outside and not accept them inside of you out of fear of showing your vulnerabilities, you are therefore not in tune with yourself and you are controlled by the world. You want to become the best version of yourself, but if you don't truly accept your imperfections, you can get dissatisfied, demanding and cold with no way of enjoying life like you envisioned you'd have.
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3 r d ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : L U S T
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⁕ Scorpio Salomè/Salomè at 8°-20° : You enchant with your mystery and intensity. Your enigmatic and independent spirit makes you an extremely interesting character everyone wants to get to know.
⁕ You attract unwanted attention, and you are the center topic of everyone's gossipy chitchat. You are people's dream, and everyone envy your subtle popularity, they all want to get a little sip of you. People view you as a prize they want to conquer to make themselves appear bigger. You have a great desire to form deep and meaningful connections, so you give a chance to others in exploring your hidden and vulnerable side, but all they do is take advantage of your thoughtfulness to feed their curiosity and ego, and once they get what they want, they only come back to you when they need a little refresh. This is how they trigger your lust. ⁕ You hide your emotional side because of past wounds, but your intense feelings still need an outlet or else they'd consume you. You need someone that cherish and care for your complexity and is willing to explore the dark without judgements otherwise you'll become insatiable, unfulfilled and uncontrollable, confusing the real profund emotional depth with a toxic emotionless bond based on superficial desires.
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4 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : E N V Y
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⁕ Virgo Salomè/Salomè at 6°-18° : You enchant with your skills and intelligence. Your analytical mind and organized approach give you the ability to grasp details and process them in an incredible clear and systematic way.
⁕ People envy your critical thinking and your kind, hardworking nature, so they take advantage of your modesty to use your talents for their interests. You take pride in giving yourself to others to help them out, but when this gets to an extreme and hinders you from developing your own identity, you get stuck in a limbo of constant crave for validation and endless comparisons. This is how your envy gets triggered. ⁕ You look at others' freedom and accomplishments, and you feel guilty you haven't reached that level yet, so you blame yourself for your inability and incompetence, believing you'll never get better and so remain stuck in your delusions. You have a great desire to master your talents and get genuine recognition from yourself and others, but when you don't take on this path, you become fussy, critical and judgemental.
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⁕ Gemini Salomè/Salomè at 3°-15°-27°: You enchant with your wit and sarcasm. Your exceptionally curious mind make you jump on every kind of topic with no shame, letting you explore anything and expanding your horizons making you very clever and articulated.
⁕ You excel in debates and are such a social butterfly, you know how to grasp people's attentions with your words. And well, who wouldn't be envious of such a skill? People use your talents by making you feel like you're guiding them and you have the control over the situation, but then you focus too much on the details that you forget the bigger picture, and this includes you forging your own path and understanding what you truly want from life. Those distractions that people throws at you trigger your envy. ⁕ You look up at the people that make decisions and have a clear idea of what they want to do and you feel jealous of their resolution in walking only one path. You overthink so much you'd love to know how to find peace even for just a second, but you get absorbed in the envy, and at your worst you get gossipy, superficial and inconsistent. You have a great desire of knowing yourself fully, being flexible while also find stability within your flexibility. But if you can't look within and stop comparing with others, you'll never know your truth.
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
5 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : G L U T T O N Y
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⁕ Libra Salomè/Salomè 7°-19° : You enchant with your charisma and tactfulness. Your cooperative nature and romantic aura enhance your already stunning natural beauty, and people envy this hard core because it appears as you have been blessed with everything by life.
⁕ They take advantage of your agreeable temperament to use you for their interests. So you live your life as a secondary character, always trying to please others but never taking into account your own will. People use this indecisiveness of yours to trigger your gluttony. ⁕ You never feel satisfied because you don't even know what you want. So you only "eat" more because you crave that instant moment of pleasure constantly. As you base your worth from outside sources, you feel empty inside, hence why you keep feeling the need to put things inside you to fill that void. You have a great desire to make the world fair for everyone and form genuine connections between people, but if you can't complete this purpose, you become unbalanced, overly-indulgent and insecure.
⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓
⁕ Taurus Salomè/Salomè at 2°-14°-26° : You enchant with your steadiness and sensuality. Your driven and kind hearted nature allows you to always put your best in everything you focus on, and you're not one to lose your focus easily.
⁕ People envy how firm and determined you are, despite looking very gracious outwardly, you never give up, and this beautiful combo of extremes make you look like a person that possess everything. Others are gonna want to break your peaceful and unshakable nature, taking advantage of your kindness, they're gonna try to use your resiliency for their interests and letting you see how much there is of the world by shifting your focus on the pleasures of life. Soon you're gonna enter the sensual world and you'd never want to go back. This is how they trigger your gluttony. ⁕ Your body craves intimacy and contact, but you've been living in your head, only focusing on possessions denying your sensual side. Now after realizing how food can fill you and make you enjoy the experience, you become addicted to it. The idea of something that doesn't take up space like everything in materialism, but can instead grow you to take up space (eating) makes you feel important and not tie your self worth to outward successes. But it's still making up for your lack of love coming from within, and if you can't feel it you can get stubborn, possessive and self-absorbed.
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6 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ o f f : W R A T H
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⁕ Aries Salomè/Salomè at 1°-13°-25° : You enchant with your assertivity and bravery. Your optimistic and dynamic spirit combined with your dominant demeanor allow you to be a great leader.
⁕ You fearlessness and ease in overcoming challenges make people envious of the power you hold. They use your spontaneous and competitive nature to their interests, trying to make fun of you, to slowly make you lose the confidence in yourself and step down the throne you deserve, but you can't stand the view of this injustice (both if made to you or to others).This is how they trigger your wrath. ⁕ You are not afraid to speak up, but after you lose your confidence, your words are spilled out with impulsiveness and aggressiveness, making people afraid of how quick you can lose your temper. You have a great desire to help others realize their potential, and you want to guide them on the tortuous path of life, but if people ignore you and make you feel small, then you become impatient, insensitive and reckless.
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⁕ Sagittarius Salomè/Salomè at 9°-21° : You enchant with your wisdom and open-mindedness. Your free spirit allows you to experience life humbly giving you the ability to transform your mistakes in insightful life lessons.
⁕ You change people's perspectives by elaborating a wide range of informations and putting them in a clear view thanks to your capability of grasping patterns, and others envy this. They want to robb your wisdom, to feel like wise Gods themselves, so they use your knowledge to shut your voice down, triggering your wrath. ⁕ Once you raise your voice and let everyone see this impulsive side of yourself, you can witness people losing interest and trust in you, making you insecure and small, full of existential crisis. You have a great desire to change the world for the best, and to let people see different point of view with your philosophy, but when you are not understood you can turn into a close-minded, highly opinionated and skeptical person.
⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕⁓⁕
7 t h ⁕ v e i l ⁕ r e v e a l : S L O T H
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⁕ Pisces Salomè/Salomè at 12°-24° : You enchant with your vulnerability and spirituality. Your imagination allows you to put yourself in other people's shoes and understand their point of view in an empathetic way.
⁕ Your easygoing and adaptable nature make others envious of you. They take advantage of your compassion by treating you as their personal punching bag, their shoulder to cry on, their victim to sacrifce. They suck all your energy into their personal interests, leaving you completely numb and not giving you space to display your creativity. This is how they trigger your sloth. ⁕ You have a great desire to feel emotions and share them with people that truly understand you, but if people neglect this aspect of yourself, you become lazy, unmotivated and hopeless. The world holds no meaning to you and you'd rather spend time feeling delusional than open up in fear of not being accepted.
⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓⁓
⁕ Cancer Salomè/Salomè at 4°-16°-28° : You enchant with your softness and compassion. Your nurturing and maternal energy makes others feel at home and safe.
⁕ Your incredible intuition knows everyone's needs and your affectionate nature make you want to help everyone just to see a smile on their faces. Unfortunately others can misuse this gift of yours to their interest since they're envious of how perfectly in tune you are with your emotions. When you can sense that all you see are fake smiles, you start to question your ability to heal others and your sensitive side is hightened. This is the perfect moment for those people to strike some offensive words that will make you insecure and want to just disappear from the world. This is how they trigger your sloth. ⁕ You isolate and close yourself in your shell to protect you from further damage. You feel you are unworthy and that you don't bring any value to the world, so you dwell in your sense of guilt and fear, unable to do anything. You have a great desire to make the world a better place, to share your love and emotions with others, to protect those in needs, but if you can't express this side of youself you become pessimistic, moody and manipulative.
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And you've reached the end! Congrats! And thanks for staying with me ✨
I hope you enjoyed this post and find it helpful in understanding your own Salomè placement 😊
Hope the dance steps were easy to follow too 💃
It took me some time to make cause i wanted to truly dive deep in the meaning of it and not only talk about the magnetizing part, but remember, this is only my interpretation, i'd love to peacefully discuss with you if you disagree with me 👍
I'm kinda tempted to make a post on Salomè through the houses, let me know if you'd love to know more on this asteroid
as always,
I wish you a wonderful day ahead (or night) 😘 and i'll see you in the next post! Yours Linnie 🌛
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the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.
I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.
Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.
Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:
I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.
Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.
KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.
For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.
SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.
We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.
RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.
We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.
This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.
A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.
I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.
Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.
People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.
The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.
A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.
I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.
David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.
Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.
Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.
I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.
@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.
The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.
I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.
Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.
He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.
🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵
The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.
🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵
Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.
🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵
There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.
I am compared to a cat.
TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.
OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.
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#373
“What the fuck is this I’m hearing about you?  My buddy Deputy Watson asked me why I have a faggot working for me?  He tells me that you have a record for sex in public bathrooms.  Is it true?
“Of course it is!  I can see it on your face.  Have the common decency of at least admitting it….  Jesus fuck!  You know when I hired you, I told you I didn’t want any drama.  And now I have to deal with this.  I can’t be thought of a sperm burper.  With my wife filing for divorce and living across the state at her sisters, people will start to think nasty shit about me once they find out that I have a fag working for me.
“You were recommended to us because you are a hard worker; you keep your head down.  You don’t drink and you don’t cavort around in town.  Now I know why. 
“Watson was telling me that you were caught once before at a rest stop in South Dakota getting cornholed.  He also said that the charges were dropped.  Lucky you.  So you must like sucking on random dick at some nasty assed bathroom.  What the fuck is the draw?
“Nothing to say?...  I want an answer….
“…You like to blow straight men?  Why would a straight man want to get blown by some fag when he can get it at home?... 
“…Watch your mouth!  The last time I got a blowjob has no bearing on this conversation.  You know damned well that Louise and I are going through a divorce.  I haven’t had anything in a long…  Wait a minute, are you looking to give me head?
“…Back to being silent…?
“Uh…
“Uh…
“Awww, fuck it….  I could go for some head.  You want it?...  No one will ever know that this happened, you got that?  Good.  Then get on your fucking knees. 
“I got a lot of skin….  God damn!  You are eager!  My wife makes me get hard first before I…  Oh fuck!  Oh man. 
“Fuck!  Watch your goddamned teeth!...  I will knock them out.  Trust me I will.  My dick may not be long, but it gets really fat.  Those teeth better know their place.
“Damn, not many women could deep throat me.  Fuck I will be using this mouth again.
“Fuck!  What did I tell you about your teeth? 
“Fuck you faggot!  You want me to hit you again, keep up with the teeth.  You hurt me, then I hurt you.  What do you have to say?...  Hunh?...
“Damn right you’re sorry.  Look up at me.  Open your mouth.  Let me feel your teeth….  Holy shit!  That’s some jagged teeth you have there. 
“I want you to make an appointment with your dentist.  I want him to grind them smooth.  You got that?  I pay for your dental, let me benefit from that.  And make that appointment as soon as possible.
“Look at me….  That slap means I’m serious about this.  Now get the fuck up.  You take men up your shitter?  Of course, you do.  Get out of those Levi’s. 
“A fucking jock strap?  You are such a fag.  Leave it on.  I’m not interested in what you have in front.
“It’s been years since I fucked an ass.  Most of the time it was to put a bitch into place.  You’ll be the first faggot, but it will be for the same damned reason. 
“Spread your legs further.  Damn.  That’s a pale ass.  Hold still….  Oooh.  You have been fucked before.  I can’t remember when my head went in so easy.  So I guess I don’t have to wait for you to adjust to me. 
“Right to the root!  Fuck your pussy is treating my cock so well.  Aw, shut up.  I don’t want to hear any goddamned complaints from you.  If you wanted more lube, you should have put more spit on my dick.  Next time think to do that.
“Now shut the fuck up.  I’m in the middle of fucking here….
“Your cunt knows how to take a pounding.  I like that.  I like that a lot….  Do that again.  Fuck, this is one talented cunt.  And it’s right here every day.  Yeah.  This cunt is going to be used going forward. 
“Fuck yeah.  I’m taking ownership of this cunt.  It’s mine.  You got that?...
“Answer me motherfucker.  Who’s cunt is this?
“Damned right.  You will give up other men.  It’s mine.  You understand faggot?
“…You better.
“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.  Get ready.  You gonna get flooded with a huge load.  Here it cums.  Here it goddamned cums!  Urg!  Urg!  Fuuuck.  Shit!
“Don’t fucking move.  Stay put.  Clamp down.
“Dammit faggot.  No wonder so many men use you like this.  Not anymore.  I wasn’t kidding when I said you are to give up other men.  That cunt is mine.  I don’t want any other man touching my property.  You got that faggot?...  You say, ‘Yes Sir!’
“That’s better.  You understand that I will be fucking it after we get done work every day?
“I’m one horny son of a bitch, a controlling one at that.  That’s why my wife is filing for a divorce.  You are going to be taking over her duties of taking my nut.  Let’s go up to the house so you can fix me some dinner. 
“No leave those Levi’s there.  You don’t deserve to wear pants.  The jock is all you need.  As I said before, I’m not interested in what you have up front.  In fact, it shouldn’t be any of your concern either. 
“Now get up to the house….  Goddamn, that’s a nice ass.  I don’t know if I will be able to make it through dinner without plowing that cunt and unloading a second time.  My dick can go all night, especially a cunt that treats my dick well.  That cunt will be so full by the end of the night.  Now get moving.”
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navybrat817 · 10 months
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Sweet as Cherry Pie
Pairing: Soft Dark!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve comes home with great news, but you're not as happy as you should be. Word Count: Over 1.4k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Steve Rogers (yep, he's a warning and a little mean) A/N: Steve and Cherry's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You always enjoyed baking. It gave you something to do with your hands and the hobby was both simple and challenging. It required focus for measuring and following directions, but you also had fun with your creations. It seemed to be one of the only ways you could express yourself now, which clouded your feelings when you focused too much on it.
I will not feel sorry for myself. I have a good life. The best life.
Being the wife of Steve Rogers was a dream come true. The man was handsome, loving, a hero. The all American dream wrapped up in the perfect package. He worked hard to provide you both with a lovely home and didn't ask for much in return. Only that you follow his orders and be dutiful.
A good wife obeys her husband.
You idly wiped down the counter as you waited for the oven timer to go off, glancing at one of the photos Steve placed near the window. While he smiled from ear-to-ear, yours was a little more reserved. He loved drawing and taking photos of you, but there weren’t any photos of the two of you before you moved to The Haven. They were somehow lost in the move.
Not that I remember packing any of my stuff, but my old place doesn’t matter, does it?
The sound of Steve’s motorcycle pulling into the garage pulled you from your distracted thoughts. He normally called if he was going to come home early. The sound of the door would indicate if he was back for a good or bad reason. Either way, he’d take his mood out on your body. You had to look presentable.
A good wife lives to please her husband.
You threw your apron off and rushed to your room to put on the cherry scented perfume he liked. He enjoyed it because it was seductive and sensual, sweet and tart, good enough to eat. As if on autopilot, you applied it to the same four spots: behind your ear, at the base of your neck, your wrist, and behind your knee. You retouched your lips next, staring at the tube of lipstick once you finished. It wasn't a color you wore until you moved in with him.
Steve picked it because he knows best.
When you looked at your beautiful reflection in the mirror, the urge to smash it began to surface. A flickering flame grew within you, threatening to spread like wildfire as you dropped the lipstick into the sink. There was nothing wrong with looking pretty for your husband. You just wished the person staring back at you was one you recognized.
I’m Cherry. I’m Mrs. Steve Rogers. I’m happy.
“Sweetheart?” Steve called to you before he gently shut the door. He was in a good mood at least. “Mmm. Something smells delicious.”
You straightened your dress and brushed off any negativity that bubbled under your skin as you went to greet him. Not a single blonde hair of his was out of place as he took in the sight of you. The need to impress him took over your thoughts. “Hi. Cookies are almost done,” you said, pressing your red lips to his cheek. “I didn’t expect you to come home so soon.”
“Maybe I just wanted to see my beautiful wife,” he asked as he slipped off his shoes and guided you toward the kitchen. Any excuse to touch you, he did. “Why? Are you not happy to see me?”
“I’m always happy to see you,” you said as you grabbed an oven mitt. The timer went off a second later and his eyes didn’t leave you as you carefully took the sheet out. “I just wanted to make sure everything’s okay.”
“Everything’s great,” he said, inspecting the cookies as you set them on the stove. You knew it was a wonderful batch without tasting them. The perfect man, he expected perfection in every extension of him. Which is why you didn’t make mistakes with any of your baking or cooking. "I have the best news.”
"Oh? What is it?" you asked curiously.
"Bucky’s married!" he said, taking you by the waist to twirl you around. “Can you believe it?”
"Married?" you repeated, not as happy as your husband. The news should’ve excited you since Bucky was his best friend, but it confused you. "I didn't know he was seeing anyone."
"No? I swore I told you he had his eye on someone,” he said with a condescending chuckle. “Makes me think you don’t pay attention when I speak to you, but that can’t be it, right?”
You went rigid in his grasp when he smiled. It reminded you of a demon, the shades of red and darkness showing in his eyes and perfect row of teeth. “It must’ve slipped my mind. Silly me,” you tried to giggle.
Like so many other things.
You didn’t relax until he kissed the corner of your mouth. “Because you’re so busy taking care of me, which I appreciate,” he praised you, his smile softer. Kinder. “And it’s better most days when I do the thinking for you.”
You bit your tongue so hard you almost drew blood, wanting to say that you were more than just a pretty face. The words didn’t come though. “You know best, Steve” you said as you plastered a smile on your face, your voice somewhat hollow after his insult. “And I love taking care of you.”
If he noticed your lack of enthusiasm, he didn’t say so. “Back to the good news,” he said, swaying with you even though there was no music. “It was a quick engagement and they didn’t want to wait. I wish I could’ve been at the ceremony, but I had that mission and I don’t blame him one bit for not waiting.”
“I’m sure he would’ve loved for you to be his best man.”
“He would’ve, but I'm happy that he’s happy. When you know, you know,” he said, tapping the tip of your nose. “Like the moment I met you. I knew you were going to be my wife."
Your smile faltered a little. It was difficult some days to remember just how you two came to be Mr. and Mrs. Rogers. You knew you loved him, but the actual process of falling for him? The build up of the relationship? It was like there was a chapter missing.
The past is the past and I have everything I need in the present.
Steve looked at you expectantly as you blinked. You needed to focus. “Just like I knew you’d be my husband.”
He hummed, seemingly pleased with your response. "We're going to meet her soon. Will you do me a favor, please? Make her feel welcome?" He suggested, but it was more like a command. He sometimes liked to phrase things in ways that made it sound as if you had a say in the matter, but his word was law. “Bucky’s my best friend and I want you two to be best friends.”
"Of course. It’ll be nice to have a new friend.”
“And once she’s settled in, I know they’re going to start trying for a family,” he went on, placing his hand on your stomach. “Which means we can try, too. Our kids can grow up together, the way Bucky and I did. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
Steve would be the best father. He deserves a family. So does Bucky.
“So wonderful,” you whispered, afraid you’d cry if you raised your voice. You wish you knew why the thought of having children with the man you loved scared you.
“Maybe we can start practicing,” he said, his voice huskier as he gripped your hips. “A bit of dessert before dinner.”
You didn’t protest as he backed you against the counter. Your body would welcome him home the way it always did. He’d please you as you pleased him.
“And Cherry?”
“Yes, Steve?” you asked as he dipped his head to inhale your perfume.
“Make a cherry pie for me to send to Bucky’s house. I don’t think he plans on leaving anytime soon and he isn’t letting his wife leave the bed. We can’t let them go hungry now, can we?”
“No, we can’t,” you replied, closing your eyes as he pushed your dress up.
“That’s my good girl,” he whispered.
Happy husband. Happy wife. Happy life.
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All good in the neighborhood, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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annymation · 5 months
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Reimagining the characters in Wish
(Part 1- Asha)
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Hey guys! I don’t really know how to start this, but let’s just say that I… Didn’t like how Disney’s 100th anniversary movie turned out, like at all.
But I can tell there was a lot of unexplored potential beneath this story, that in my opinion felt overly simple and bare bones.
But if you love it, that’s awesome, more power to you, I wish I could’ve loved it too. And I don’t want to rewrite it to show I’m “better than the writers at Disney” because I’m definitely not lol, I have no experience in writing, and I’m sure they put a lot of passion into the project and I respect them for that. But this movie inspired me with ideas for a different story that I think is worth telling.
But I won’t start telling it today, instead, I'll start a series of blogs sharing my ideas for changes in the characters and their stories, after I get some feedback I will start posting more of the story itself.
If you’re interested, then come along!
Asha✨
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Personality
- Asha is a 18 year old girl, with a passion for drawing and helping those around her, sometimes even worrying more about helping others than helping herself
- She’s like a big sister to her 7 friends, always being the voice of reason and acting responsible, but not in a bossy way, she’s actually very playful with them
- To the people of Rosas tho, she's seen as kind of a weirdo, for you see, she spends almost every time of the day drawing in her sketchbook
- She practices everyday to become a better artist, and the people of Rosas find this to be very peculiar, after all, why would you take so much effort to perfect a talent when you can simply wait to turn 18 and wish for the king to make you an amazing artist?
- Asha doesn’t mind these comments, although they have made her less willing to share her drawings with others that aren’t her 7 friends
- As the story progresses we see Asha flourish from a shy and introverted girl to a brave woman who after discovering a terrifying secret about the kingdom’s rulers, steps in and inspires others to join her and fight an evil sorcerer king and his alchemist wife (yes, I made Amaya an alchemist, more on that on part 2 when I talk about how I’d change Magnifico and Amaya)
- Some Disney characters that share similarities with her personality wise are: Belle, Tiana, Pocahontas and Esmeralda
Main Traits:
Calm and mature
Determined
Passionate about her interests (drawing, dancing, philosophy and stars)
Helpful and generous
Perceptive and always questioning things around her that no one pays attention to (like why do all the artists only paint the King and Queen?)
Playful
Compassionate
Backstory
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Oooh boy I gave this poor girl so much angst, okay let’s go
Asha grew up with her grandfather, her parents both died in a fire when she was just a baby
(this isn’t just to fit the “haha Disney princess has no parents” cliche, there’s plot relevance in this “mysterious fire” that I’ll talk about later)
Growing up with her grandpa, he’d always support her dream to be an artist, like her mother, who was an art teacher
Her mother not only drew really well, but she also was able to create the illusion that her drawings could move, by flipping through the pages of her sketch books
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In other words, her mom was an animator
Asha saw this technic her mom used as a form of magic, so she would often tell her grandpa she wanted to “Do magic just like my mom”
Her father was a philosopher (this was established in the actual movie but never explored haha whyyyy), who taught people that working hard to achieve your dreams is not only rewarding, but also essential, because it’s part of the human nature to persevere and fight for what we believe, even if we fail, even if it’s hard, just keep moving forward.
This philosophy may sound very “umm duh” for me and you since we all know and hear everywhere nothing in life comes for free… But that’s not the case in Rosas
In this rewrite the kingdom wasn’t created by Magnifico, but rather the kingdom has existed for many generations, being ruled by different kings before Magnifico who also granted wishes… but I’m getting ahead of myself.
The point is that the culture of just asking the king to give you or make you whatever you want to be has been in this kingdom’s culture since forever, so when Asha’s dad comes out saying “hey! Maybe we should stop just relying on the king to make our dreams come true, right?” He’s actually being quite a revolutionary… and sharing a very dangerous belief to other people…
At this point you might suspect what caused that “mysterious fire”
So, back to Asha, growing up with her grandpa, they shared a lot of happy memories together. Reading her father's books and her mother's art books helped Asha connect with them even tho she never had them in her life.
But as her grandfather grew older, he became senile.
Asha went from being taken care of by her grandpa to being the one who took care of him when she was still around 13 years old, and when she turned 15 her grandfather passed away of old age
Asha went on to live with her best friend Dahlia, the two became like sisters.
Though she managed to move on from the loss of her grandfather, she could never shake the feeling that he died without getting his wish granted... But she had no way to prove that, it was just a feeling
The wish granting system works different in my rewrite, instead of there being a public wish granting ceremony once a month, there would only be a public wish TAKING ceremony, that would work just like in the movie, you turn 18, you go give your wish to the king yada yada yada.
But the wish granting part would work like this: Almost every night the king would release the wishes up in the sky, they would float down like balloons to their respective owners while they sleep, and once they woke up in the morning they'd feel that their wishes were granted, for they would wake up changed.
With this method, there's no way of confirming if someone really got their wish granted or not, unless you went to ask the king.
Asha never did ask the king if he granted her grandfather's wish, but her grandfather would sometimes express how he wasn't feeling completely fulfilled in his life, he felt like there was something... missing.
This feeling of hollowness persisted in him until the very end, no matter how hard Asha tried to help her grandfather, she never knew him as his real self, because he gave part of his soul to the king, the most beautiful part of his soul, his wish.
Asha had no proof that her grandfather didn't get his wish granted, only a gut feeling.
But because of this, Asha wasn't that thrilled to give her own wish to king magnifico, knowing there was the possibility of it never being granted.
Not to mention she didn’t even know what to wish for, “I’m just 18 and you guys expect me to already know what’s my heart’s deepest desire? I’m still figuring that out, all I know is that I wanna draw”
Plus she wanted to follow her father's philosophy and achieve her wish on her own, eventually, when she figured out what her wish even was.
Asha never rebelled against the system tho, she wasn't a confrontational person. She just accepted the people of Rosas preferred to rely on the king's magic, but that just wasn't for her.
However, on her 18 birthday, when it was expected of her to give her wish to the king, she simply said she didn't have a wish, and even if she did she wouldn’t want to hand it over, she wanted to make it come true on her own. This lead to an argument with the king, and after a series of events (that I don't have time to summarize here, but you can find out about it on my rewrite) leads to her finding out a terrible truth about her kingdom. And that's how her story begins.
Design
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- I’d keep these braid ornaments that Asha had in the concept art
- Since in my rewrite she’s not that invested in the kingdom of Rosas, I’d remove all the Kingdom of Rosas symbols that are present in her design (there are a LOT of them)
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- I’d replace these Rosas insignia with more star and constellations themed symbols, to reflect how Asha believes that the stars are connected to people and they can guide us, just like how her father believed.
Final Thoughts
My intentions with these changes were to give Asha a strong emotional hook, and something that makes her feel relatable.
The emotional hook here is how she spent so much of her life taking care of her grandfather that she kinda never had time to worry about her own desires, that alone can be relatable to caregivers of elderly people that watch their grandparents or even their own parents lose themselves as time passes, and end up worrying more about the person they’re taking care of than themselves.
Asha has this internal emotional conflict where she feels she needs to constantly help others the same way she helped her grandfather, and one of the things she’ll learn as the story progresses is that it’s not selfish of her to want more for HERSELF.
Another thing that would be relatable about Asha is her passion for drawing, and how most people in Rosas would say she’s wasting her time practicing so much when she can just wait until she turns 18 and wish to be amazing at drawing.
She’d never stop believing that taking her time to improve on her talent and trying again and again was worth every second of her time, because let me tell ya folks, drawing is HARD, and animating like Asha’s mom did is even HARDER, it takes a whole lot of practice, and Asha was determined to keep trying.
She’d be much like Belle, remaining true to herself even tho those around her considered her odd, and very passionate about drawing just as much Belle was passionate about reading.
I also find it funny how Asha’s motivations are fairly down to earth, like in Disney movies you usually have:
I want to be free from these palace walls!
I want to explore the ocean!
I want to open a restaurant!
I want to find true love!
And then there’s Asha here like
“My life is fine, I just wanna chill and draw stuff”
And that’s it, but, in her environment where everyone is expected to have this great wish that they have to give to the king so he’ll make it a reality, she’s kinda the odd one out, and I love that. Would be a great subversion of the Disney formula.
Of course after she learns Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions she gets a lot more agency and the desire to save her people, her “call for adventure” if you will.
But what are Magnifico and Amaya’s true intentions? Click here for part 2 and find out!
Thank You For Reading!
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OMG "A Ring is Merely Jewelry and Marriage a Contract" is an absolute masterpiece!!! You're so talented it hurts! I'm really in love.
What do you think about part 2? We really need more whipped daemon and his snarky wife😭 more protective Havoc😭 more caraxes who's absolutely in love with the reader and she's just as in love with him petting and cooing over him while daemon stands next to her in disbelief like 'what about me? why does my dragon get all the love I was meant to receive from my wife??'
Fire & Havoc
Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader
Summary: If marital bliss meant engaging in tomfoolery and murderous intent, then you were knee deep in it with your beloved Targaryen prince.
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: Fem!Reader, a vague mention of Daemon touching himself, arranged/forced marriage, wife!reader, daemon is absolutely smitten, enemies to lovers, fluff, typos, etc.
A/N: ur so blessed that i love this fic so much and actually had plans i did not get to write when writing it so here you go nonnie, ur one of the few who's been able to convince me to make a part 2. lol i realized what i did may be quite different to what you were expecting, so i do hope you still enjoy <3 So yeah, as mentioned in by the anon, this is a part two of this fic. I dont think you would need to read it to understand, but i highly suggest you do though I'm tagging the people who commented that they wanted to read more in the first part so hiii! @aralezinspace @em-the-lurker @blue1006 @mukduk-not-murder @min-jianhyung @deniixlovezelda T_T I hope they all work Part 3 "Frost Bite"
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I whistle at Havoc and call her out her name. She leans away, snarling, her bared teeth was laced with saliva. It dribbles on the guard beneath her, whose pulse was undoubtedly echoing in her ears.
"Down," I command, knitting my brows at the angry, large canine.
Havoc retreats, growls not at all dampening as she comes to over to me. I give the wolf a pointed look when she reaches my stool and grab her snout, raising a finger, "what did I just tell you?"
Havoc immediately deflates, ears flattening as she sits before me.
Elias, who has she had been training with, props himself on his elbows and wipes his face, before ultimately standing, "it is a wonder that she listens to you at all, princess."
I turn to the man as he catches his breath, then to his fellow Gold Cloaks, just as my handmaiden, Belidea, walks over to me with a tray of breakfast.
I pull away from Havoc the very moment she whines at the smell of my food. I shift on my stool and I give her side eye. She licks her snout as she wipes her faces.
Clever, but her puppy dog eyes not to work on me.
When she nudges her nose on my leg, I push her away after I take a bite of my sausage, "no. You've already eaten, you glutton."
Havoc, even if she did understand, did not care to listen to my words and propped her head on my thigh, causing me to raise my tray overhead. I click my tongue at her and hiss, "Havoc. Away with you."
The Gold Cloaks watching chuckle at the sight of the animal that was ferocious mere moments ago and now begging by my side.
Havoc, whose large head usually towered over me when I was sat down, was impossibly low on my thigh. Her eyes are locked on my tray, and if she well wanted to steal it from me, she could have. But she was my puppy after all, and so she begged.
I shake my head at her and sigh. I whistle, and immediately she sits up in an alert stance.
I rise from my seat and hand Belidea back my tray as I get the sausage. Havoc licks her lips as she sees the meat in hand.
I point a finger at her and command, "stay."
Havoc's head tilts as I draw the sausage near her and yet repeat my command, "stay."
"A cruel game, don't you think?"
I pull away slowly from Havoc then turn to my shoulder, watching as Daemon walks over to me, armor covered in blood. I raise my brows at him, "it's not a game. I'm teaching her to obey my command."
He walks beside me, and Havoc licks her snout when he sees him.
"Stay," I command yet again, snapping my finger, "focus on me, Havoc."
Daemon chuckles, leaning close to me, "it seems your pup quite likes me better now."
I hum, "she would quite like to devour you in your current state, make no mistake."
After saying this, I throw the sausage off to the side and Havoc merely turns to it, still in her spot. I smile at her, "good," then nod, "go get it, girl."
Not a single moment is wasted and Havoc lunges on the small piece of meat and chops it down with no difficulty whatsoever.
I take this as an opportunity to turn to the prince who was peering down at me, "why are you covered in blood?"
Havoc is quickly behind me, licking my fingers. I turn down to her and tell her to stop just as Daemon responds, "I rolled in your bedsheets, wife."
I look back at him with a dark look, but he only returns it with a smirk. He sighs, "yet another cycle of yours passes and our marriage still has not been consummated."
I feel anger rise up my throat, "I'm sure the women you see during your nightly escapades suffice, do they not, husband?"
Havoc does not allow the prince to respond as she walks over to him and licks the blood on his attire. Havoc was not fully grown yet, but the top of her head was nearly as high as mine, and so you can imagine why Daemon did not find it in him to annoy me any further.
I snort as Havoc pushes me aside to lick Daemon's chest all the way up to his neck.
He speaks in High Valyrian, commanding her like his dragon, but it obviously does not work.
I chuckle as Daemon fumbles back and raises his hands, "down, girl."
Much to my surprise, Havoc actually listens. I waited for him to make the mistake of not further asserting his dominance, but he does not. He straightens himself up and peers down at her, "sit."
Havoc sits at once and I chuckle in disbelief, "consider me faintly impressed."
"I have merely taken advantage of the all encompassing scent her master has," he attempts to take my hand but I pull away from him before he even gets close.
"You will not touch me until you tell me whose blood is on you."
Daemon's eyes crinkle, "and so I shall touch you after?" He steps forward, "wherever I may prefer-"
"You may attempt to touch wherever," I narrow my eyes at him.
His lips curve at my harsh tone then releases a chuckle, "elk."
"Elk?" I repeat in slight disbelief.
"Yes," he hums, "I thought Havoc and Caraxes could eat together."
My lips press together tightly.
"And perhaps if my wife is so disgusted by the blood on me, she shall join me in my bath and lend me a hand."
I step closer to him and tilt my head, "you already have two to keep yourself company."
"But it's not quite the same is it?"
I roll my eyes as I turn to Havoc and whistle, "come along then. You should continue with your game with the Gold Cloaks."
Daemon watches as I instruct Havoc for a moment before heading to his bath. His expression was soft, juxtaposing the horrible sight of blood and dirt covering him. If anyone saw his expression, they'd believe he was in love.
After our training session, I head back to my chambers, debating if I should like to take a bath myself. Daemon should be done by now anyway.
I walk into our room, finding my husband was nowhere in the area. But then my stomach drops. I hear rapid splashing sounds and my name being gutturally called out in the bathroom. In my haste, I burst into the room and heave, finding Daemon in the tub, stroking his-
"Fuck," he whines quickening his pace, making my face contort as I turn away and storm out.
It doesn't take long for me to hear what I would have rather not. Daemon releases a long whine and my entire body burns in embarrassment.
He is hard of breathing when he calls out, "take it as a compliment, wife."
I release a scoff as I hear him come out of the water. I turn to him when he walks up to me but regret it when I see that he is fully naked. I avert my eyes and shake my head, "you are truly vile."
"You will learn to burn for me as I do you, pretty girl," Daemon heaves as he walks over to me, leaving a trail of water behind him, "I will require you to give me an heir eventually, as you will I."
When draws closer as he mutters, "Belidea tells me you swoon over every babe you set your eyes upon. I shall give you your own if only you-"
I shove him away when he reaches for me.
He chuckles as he reels back. He raises his hands then gestures, "then will you hand me the towel behind you?"
I scowl at him and turn quickly behind me, seeing the towel hanging on the chair. I grunt as I grab it and throw it to him, making him chuckle yet again.
"You are so fiery, yet as timid as a child," he says as he wipes himself down.
"And you are simply a child," I blurt, making my way to the closet to grab his clothing, "look at the absolute mess you've made."
I walk over to Daemon and shove the clothes into his arms, "why should I have a child with when you're already one?"
The corner of Daemon's lips curve, "are you mothering me, my love?"
I roll my eyes, "fuck off," I say as I trail over to our bed, "quickly make yourself decent, there is a matter I must discuss with you."
"I doubt I need be decent to discuss something."
"Then allow me to rephrase it: I require you to be decent to before I discuss anything with you," I say as I sit on the side of the bed and busy myself by looking at my nails.
Daemon chuckles, "kill joy."
"I could do more than kill your joy, my love," I mock.
His amusement intensifies and I hear him shuffle with his clothing, "that's the spirit."
After a few moments, I steal a look to my side and find that he has put on his breeches and was already making his way towards me. He jumps onto the bed, throwing his tunic aimlessly on the mattress and stretches, resting his hand behind his head.
I turn from him over my shoulder, disgusted, and grab the towel, roughly rubbing his soaking hair with it before he further wet the pillows.
"Alright," he grabs my wrist chuckling, "if you continue with your mothering, the maids will begin to gossip."
I pull away from him as I shift to look at his stupid face and bare chest, "I'm travelling to the North next week."
All the amusement in his face vanishes.
I keep my silence for a moment, taking in how his jaw clenches.
"Well," he raises his brows, "is it to escape me or because your father died?"
I let out a dry chuckle, curling my hand into a fist at the mention of my father, "neither."
Daemon's expression softens, "neither, hmm?"
My face sours, "because I know I cannot escape you, Prince Daemon."
"Very good," his lips curve.
"Havoc is beginning her heat cycle," I straighten up, "you do recall when she attacked those men w-"
"I do not blame her," Daemon sighs, relaxing, "those sorry fucks came to her abode to gawk at her. Serves them right."
"Daemon," I roll my eyes, "I am sure her aggression excites you, but at the end of the day I am her master, and you will not be so amused when she attacks you."
He licks his lips upon hearing that, and suddenly strokes my spine with the back of his hand. I pull away from him and furrow my brows, but the smile on his lips only grows, "how exciting to know that not only did you run into my bath marked with worry and concern, but that you also do not want your pup to harm me."
Before I could crush his delusion, he jumps off the bed and grabs his shirt, "now do not spoil my glorious mood," he then grabs my arm, "come, we must feed our beasts if they are to be as amicable as we are."
I pull away from him, but he does not allow me. He makes sure to trap my wrist in a hand even when he puts his arms through his sleeves.
At the very least I am glad he loosens his grip a bit as we make our way to the dragon pit.
It seems we caught them just in time. Havoc was being lead by her keeper, one from the North who she knew, and barks, rushing towards me the moment she senses me.
Daemon watches at the large thing lowers herself for me.
Just then, the whines of Caraxes rips through the air. I am agitated momentarily for the sake of my worf, but Havoc is no longer alarmed by his cries and in fact even shifts to a playful stance at the sight of the dragon. I relax as I stroke her in an attempt to calm her down
"Heel, girl," Daemon commands, walking over to Caraxes, "you do not want to play with a hungry dragon."
"Heel," I repeat, making Havoc straighten up and whine.
We all meet each other in the middle, Caraxes, lead by his keeper, greets us with his screech. Havoc, beside me, responds with a howl, and I cannot help but chuckle at them.
Daemon strokes Caraxes as he bends his head down, but when the dragon pushes him to the side, and heads for me, he is left speechless. Caraxes huffs out hotly as he brings his snout close enough for me to reach.
The unexpected gesture makes my heart jump to my throat. I listen in to for Havoc's growls, but hear nothing but dragon sighs and Havoc's pacing paws. I place my hands on Caraxes, pushing him back a bit when he forces too close that I nearly fall. I give Havoc a look and chuckle in disbelief when I see her nuzzle against the dragon.
"Incredible," I mutter in astonishment, turning to Daemon.
Daemon says something in High Valyrian, and I hear the keeper laugh at it.
I do not enjoy the stunned look on the prince's face and I begin to grow agitated. It doesn't take long it to disappear though. I roll my eyes at him when he says, "you have bewitched my dragon into treason."
"You ever think that maybe the only reason why Caraxes hangs around you is because he has to?"
All at once, we are both ignored as the two great beasts avert their attention to the food served to them. Caraxes is given an elk and a half, and Havoc is given the remaining part.
The dragon keeper draws near to me and speaks in High Valyrian. I look at him and nod slowly though I do not understand.
"He said it is not uncommon for dragons to be temperate to their rider's mates," Daemon says, pressing close to me, "just as I suspect the same thing for Havoc."
I eye him as he looks on to the feeding beasts, "just because I tolerate you does not mean I consider you my mate."
He responds to me in High Valyrian and I roll my eyes at him, turning away. Daemon does not know I can see his stupid smile from my peripherals as he looks down on me.
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itsgrimeytime · 1 year
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The Nurse (Part One) || Rick Grimes (TWD)
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Summary: Before all this, you were a nurse. A nurse who had patients, one of which was a man in a coma. A sheriff, you think, it was all kinda fuzzy now. When it all went sideways, you set up what you could for the man - but had to leave. You'd always wondered where he'd ended up; until in your search of shelter, you run into a familiar face.
TWS: Blood, gore, hospital setting, gun violence (just violence in general), swearing, all things typical of TWD.
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It was an easy day. Or, it was supposed to be. Hell, you had dinner plans. But, working at a hospital isn't always so smooth sailing.
That day you'd just been doing routine, checking up on patients and running files back to the cabinets, taking tests to the lab. You'd just had a breath, eating some incredibly stale pretzels from the vending machine when your pager had started to ping.
And in a blink, there was a rush of feet echoing down the hallway.
"Holy shit," you murmured, launching to your feet, and tossing your trash out with ease. The murmur of frantic beeping and tones you recognized launched you into action.
Just as you poked out of the room, a gurney made its way through the hallway, doctors you knew following closely behind. A familiar stain of red grabbed your eye in the flash that you saw.
"Dr. Madison, what-"
Without breaking a step, they continued rushing down the hall, the man in the gurney, surprisingly quiet.
"Gunshot wound left shoulder," he answered to you, but also just kind of stated, "We're headed to OR 3."
"Is there any family?" You spoke, tone concerned, eager to help how you could.
"Yes, yes. The waiting room, his partner," Dr. Madison, "-police partner."
"Fuck, he's an officer?"
Dr. Madison didn't answer, as the man started to become restless, blue eyes becoming fuzzy. As you found yourself following the gurney, you weren't needed in the OR, but you'd always had a talent for calming patients.
With a look to Dr. Madison, he gave you a nod, and you made your way to the front, "Sir?"
There was a lot of noise, the murmur of machines, the spinning of the gurney wheels, and the tones of the different doctors discussing the amount of blood he was losing but you still heard it.
"Rick," he spoke, in a breathy southern drawl, "-call me Rick."
"Rick," you smiled, a little relief he seemed to be able to communicate, "Hi, Rick, I'm nurse Y/N. Do you-"
There was a breath before his eyes flicked around himself, widening and looking back at you - bright blues, "Where's... Where's Carl and Lori?"
You gently placed a hand on his, to calm him, "Is that your family, Rick?"
"M-My wife, and kid. God, where's my kid?"
"Rick, listen," you spoke, drawing his attention with your hands trying to keep him from moving so much, "-I will find them for you, okay? Your family is safe."
"Promise me, you'll find them," he spoke, breathy, and his eyes cleared of their haze for a second. The blue was like a clear sky; you felt as if he was staring into your soul, and your breath hitched.
"Promise me."
With an exhale, you spoke of your own accord, "I promise."
He leaned back with a cough, but there was some relief there, you could see it. You fell behind the gurney's speed, and felt a shake in your breaths, watching as it disappeared behind an elevator door.
"I promise," you breathed out solidly, and tried to shake the burn of his gaze from your memory.
That was two weeks ago.
Rick Grimes had been in a coma immediately after his surgery, well, after being put to sleep, he never seemed to wake up. Dr. Madison had with ease put him under your care, a trust that was added onto your list, but you hadn't minded, not really.
You'd met Shane first, out in the waiting room, eyes frantic and his hair sticking up from where he seemed to tug on it -his eyes latching on yours. There were a few officers by him, both with hands on his shoulders and they stayed there, as you relayed what you were told to him.
'Is he gonna be okay?'
You told him what you could, doing updates from the OR as soon as you got them. Within a few minutes, more officers had come in tow with a woman -tall, and pretty with brunette hair- and a young boy -the same eyes you'd seen in his father's.
It stuck with you for a second. The pure blue holding onto every word you spoke.
They stuck with you, even more, the hour that they'd confirmed his comatose state, the tremble of the two's lips, and the tone the son spoke to you.
"You have to take care of him," he muttered, eyes shining and watery, "-you have to save him, please."
And with familiarity, you spoke -warm and calm, "I promise."
Despite your promise, you watched as the weeks passed -the light filtering out of their eyes. Rick stayed completely still, the hum of his breathing being the only sound echoing out of the room. Carl, who you had come to know well, stayed as long as he could -talking about any and everything with his dad. Lori sat by his side mostly, holding his hand and rubbing a thumb across the back of it. Shane started at a distance but began to hold her shoulders as they looked at his sleeping face.
And by the third week, the news started to implode, and you were often needed in other rooms. News of airborne sickness growing within the hospital, within dead people.
Visitors weren't allowed in. All staff was kept in.
Rick was still in a comatose state, and all you had were phone calls with the family but eventually, they stopped too. You'd call, but the line was cut -you assumed no one was home.
The reports had stopped even going through, rooms locked with reanimated faces pushing against the glass - some faces you knew and others you never would. Despite the air of the hospital being much different than it once was, you took your duties as seriously as you could.
Patient by patient and doctor by doctor, the hospital began to be infested - no longer locked rooms, but locked wards, operating rooms, and boarded windows. One of the last days you were there, was the day you found Dr. Madison. His face was deteriorating, skin drooping, and blood dried up, god when did he die?
With an exhale, you boarded up what you could and primarily focused on your last patient: Rick Grimes. The world was crumbling around you, but you couldn't leave him -after frantically searching his body for teeth marks, you didn't find any. He could still live.
"It's going to be hell when you wake up, Rick," you spoke, voice scratchy and unused -hair slick with sweat, "-real fucking hell."
When you decided to leave the hospital, it wasn't an easy decision. Not when your morals were so set when your job wasn't complete, but you knew you had to.
So, that day (god only knows the actual date) you started gathering what you could, medicine, bandages, probably expired vending machine snacks, water, and some sort of weapon.
Originally, in the early stages, the hospital simply treated it like a disease- quarantining the sick, and going in with hazmat suits. You watched one of your coworkers get torn to pieces by a simple human jaw.
Then it was locking them in rooms, and drafting cure ideas -along with some intel from a few top scientists, it never quite got too far.
You'd done it first, cornered in the room you'd taken to be your own by one you'd known -a patient that had been there for months, just waiting on a new organ. She'd wanted to be an artist.
You'd cried for 3 days after that, blood smeared all over your face and your hands. They shook for a week after, and sometimes, you still saw the stains on your hands -even though you'd scrubbed it all away as soon as you found an available space.
With all the preparations, you returned to Rick's room.
It was still the same room it had been all those weeks ago, except for the drawn curtains and distant growls that echoed through the hall no matter where you were. Wiping away your eyes, you set to work.
You couldn't be there, but you would be sure he could survive without you. Gathering extra resources and enforcing the windows, your eyes fell on the man. He looked the same, except for the scruff on his chin; and suddenly you remembered Lori kept shaving it -each week she came in and paid extra attention to his skin. Carl and Shane would step out, it always seemed so intimate as she shaved his face - holding it as gently as she could and sometimes she'd be crying. Tears silently falling with the smooth movement of her hands.
You had left during that time as well, only saw in glimpses the gentle touch and affection. If his family was out there... he'd want to be clean-shaven. You owed him that much.
With a breath, you rummaged around in your overnight bag you packed what felt so long ago. It was for when shifts got long, and this one certainly has gotten long.
Finding a razor was easy, and grabbing a lotion from one of the old offices was even easier -they all had been sitting and smelt a little off but you figured it was the best you could do.
And with a shallow breath, you took the razor and shaved the scruff off, a more familiar face appearing in your mind. The motion so intimate it filled a craving in you that you hadn't yet identified. A pleased feeling that somewhere out there, his family would recognize him.
With a bottle of water and a snack left by his bedside, you stepped out of the room and set to make a defense. You locked every room you could, and at the end of the hallway, you boarded up what you could -grateful for the graffiti warning those of what was ahead.
With a breath, you turned around to head out of the hospital, and the fear that crept up your throat was nothing compared to the itching to escape the vicinity. The stink of the dead overwhelmed your nose, and you weren't even sure it could ever get cleared out. Not after being surrounded so heavily by the smell of rotting flesh.
The blood from the corpses that found themselves in your way wasn't exactly helping.
You half wished you'd brought that horrid-smelling lotion, just for something different.
With a gust of breath, you found yourself out of the hospital with blood-drenched hands and eyes clouded in a fuzzy survival instinct.
Inhaling the air in tremendous gulps, you watched the stranded city -eyes solidly on anything that seemed out of place. Your senses had only tripled, but the sun gently shining on your skin had made your body warm with something familiar.
Something you'd missed. Hope.
With a calming exhale, you turned back to the hospital with the sun in the sky and smiled, "Good luck, Rick Grimes."
A/N: Posting this with a plan of a series, but I guess that depends on the vibes and if people like it! Reblogs and comments are appreciated :))
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