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inky-duchess · 8 months

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Fantasy Guide to Creating Your Own Language

When writer's set out to world-build, language has a huge role in creating new cultures and lending a sense of realism to your efforts. A world and people just feel more real when language is involved. As the old Irish proverb says "tír gan teanga, tír gan anam”. A country without a language, is a country without a soul. So how can we create one?

Do Your Homework

First things off, you should start by studying languages. Nobody is asking you to get fluent but it's important to understand the basic mechanics of language. You will start to see certain tricks to language, how verbs are conjugated and how gender effects certain words. It will be easier to make up your own when you know these tricks. For example, in Irish one doesn't scold but "gives out to" - "a thabhairt amach". In German, numbers are arranged differently to the English with the smallest digit arranged before the tens for example 21 - Einsundzwanzig. By immersing yourself in an array of different languages (I recommend finding ones close to how you want your language to sound), you can gain the tools necessary for creating a believable language.

Keep it Simple

Nobody expects you to pull a Tolkien or channel the powers of David J. Peterson (hail bisa vala). You're not writing a dictionary of your con-lang. You will probably use only a handful of words in your story. Don't over complicate things. A reader will not be fluent in your con-lang and if they have to continually search for the meaning of words they will likely loose patience.

Start Small

When you're learning a language, you always start with the basics. You do the exact same when writing one. Start with introductions, the names of simple objects, simple verbs (to be, to do, to have for example) and most importantly your pronouns (you will use these more than any other word, which is why I always start with them). Simple everyday phrases should always be taken care of first. Build your foundation and work your way up, this is a marathon not a race.

Music to the Ears

If your creating a new language, you're more than likely doing it phonetically. Sound is important to language and especially a con-lang because you want to trick your reader into thinking of a real language when reading the words on the page. I suggest sitting down and actually speak your words aloud, get the feel of them on the tongue to work out the spelling. Spellings shouldn't be too complicated, as I said before the readers aren't fluent and you want to make it easier for them to try it out themselves.

Also when you're creating the con-lang, it's important to figure out how it sounds to an unsuspecting ear. If a character is walking down a street and hears a conversation in a strange language, they will likely describe to the reader what it sounds like. It might be guttural or soft, it might be bursque or flowery. It's always interesting to compare how different languages flow in the ear.

Writing in Your Language

Now that you've written your language and created some words, you will want to incoperate them into your story. The way most writers do this is by italicising them. As a reader, I generally prefer authors not to go too overboard with their con-lang. Swathes of con-lang words might intrigue a reader but it can leave them confused as well. It is better to feed con-lang to your readers bit by bit. In most published works writer's tend to use words here and there but there are few whole sentences. For example in A Game Of Thrones by George RR Martin, has actually only a handful of short sentences in Dothraki despite the language being prevalent throughout the book. Daenerys Targaryen pronounces that "Khalakka dothrae mr’anha!"/"A prince rides inside me!" and it's one of the only sentence we actually see in actual Dothraki.

There's also nothing stopping you from just saying a language has been spoken. If you're not comfortable writing out the words, then don't make yourself. A simple dialogue tag can do the trick just fine.

Know your Words

I do recommend keeping an actual record of your words. Make a dictionary if you want or a simple list of words you need. This is one of the most entertaining aspects of world building, have fun with it, go mad if you like. Also here's a short list of questions you can ask yourself about language in general which might help your juices flow.

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makeyoumine69 · 10 months

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Hi! I wish you further growth and inspiration!

My choice is pussy eating and sex toys.

Good luck! 💦💦💦

Fever

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: You love going out and having dinner with Patrick, but not when his friends come along, they always make you feel so uncomfortable and insecure. Good thing he has his own ways of reassuring you, right?

— CONTAINS: Smut, established relationship, sex toys, oral (both receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), Daddy kink, Praise kink, Degradation kink, pet names, a lot of cum, nipple play, choking, biting, slight dacryphilia, humiliation, dirty talk, Patrick being a manipulative dickhead.

— WORDS: 3.2k

— SONG REC: Babydoll x the Perfect Girl

— A/N: This day finally came, and I finished my first writing challenge, which I started to celebrate my 200 followers! Thank you so much, guys, for standing by my side. I love you and I hope you like it!🖤

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [BWC MASTERLIST] [support]💗

Dorsia, just the mention of the name of that establishment was enough to make Batman frown and clench his jaw in annoyance. Nonetheless, that was the exact place you and him wanted to spend that evening, and when you finally took your seats at the best table in Dorsia, Patrick's face was like a wax statue, it was impossible to read any of his emotions.

Tim, Craig, David and their bimbos couldn’t stop rumbling even for one second and that actually annoyed Bateman, but on the other hand he used it as an opportunity to whisper filthy things right into your ear, taking advantage of the fact that no one else was paying attention due to the ruckus.

“Did my good girl do her homework while I was away?” He nuzzled against your neck, and you fidgeted on your chair uncomfortably, feeling embarrassed. “I can’t wait until we get alone.”

“I bet you do.” You reply shortly, without breaking eye contact with him.

Pleased, Patrick leaned on the chair back, his sly smile speaking for itself. Sneakily, he placed his palm on your knee to play with the hem of your cocktail dress, only to tease you and induce you to try closing your legs. With a muffled gasp, you caught his dexterous hand just at the moment everyone looked at both of you.

"So, Bateman. How was your business trip?" Craig asked with a cheeky grin. "Did you enjoy LA? I hear the chicks there are pretty hot."

The men started laughing together as if they shared the same brain cell, and you used that moment to brush Patrick's palm away, which actually made him a little upset, so he paused and coughed a little.

"McDermott, you can go to LA and see everything with your own eyes!" Patrick scoffed and took a sip of his drink. "I don't want to give any spoilers."

Sighing, you pulled yourself together as you repeated to yourself over and over again that you wouldn't let their childish behavior get under your skin. The girls — models, supposedly — looked at each other in frustration, but neither Bateman nor his colleagues seemed to care.

"God, Bateman! Now I'm intrigued!" McDermott chuckled before lighting his cigarette.

With a mischievous smirk, Patrick hugged your shoulders when he saw a glimpse of sadness in your beautiful, big eyes, and you couldn't help but smile timidly at David's comment:

"Look at them, just two lovebirds."

"Oh, shut up," Bateman blurted out jokingly. "Being jealous isn't a good thing."

Van Patten rolled his eyes at Patrick's remark, but immediately lost interest when the girl next to him leaned down to his neck and whispered something.

"Patrick?" You called his name so softly that it elicited a muffled gasp from his broad chest.

"Yes, dear?" He replied, looking at you lovingly and moving even closer so that you could whisper in his ear.

"When are we going home?"

"Do you want to go?" He 'accidentally' touched your cheek with his perfectly shaped nose, making your heart skip a beat.

"No, I was just asking."

"It's not a problem, honey." Bateman leaned even closer to kiss the area behind your ear. "Besides. I'm starving."

"But we just ate." You almost squealed when he discreetly pinched your thigh under the table, his dark grin sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him.

“You know what I mean, babydoll.” He crooned in a low voice, not giving a fuck about how attentively his coworkers were looking at both of you.

“I–” You wanted to talk back to him, but he suddenly cut you off, standing up and removing the napkin from his knees.

“Gentlemen, sorry, but we have to go.”

“So soon? What happened, Bateman?” Craig tried to sound sassy, but when he didn’t get any attention, his face went plain.

“Don’t worry, McDermott. We will get back to our conversation one day.” Patrick winked at him and offered you a hand, expecting you to take it. When you did, he pressed a brief kiss on the back of your hand.

Tim whistled at the sight and you ignored him, but you couldn't stop Patrick from shamelessly grabbing your ass as you two were leaving.

“Have fun, Bateman. But don’t make your neighbors call the cops.” Bryce added, making everyone laugh. Frowning, you looked at Patrick, expecting him to say something that would calm his coworkers down.

“I’ll call them if you don’t return those porn videotapes I gave you last week.” Bateman crooned with a cheeky smile and after that, he led you to the exit, so you could only catch a glimpse of Timothy’s blank face before you eventually left Dorsia.

In the taxi you both remained silent. You couldn't help but feel a little offended by the way his colleagues behaved, and the thing you hated the most was that you knew that if you told Patrick about it, he would just shrug it off and say that there was nothing special about it.

"Honey?" Bateman suddenly interrupted your train of thoughts with his playful voice, as if he could read your mind. Sometimes it was even scary how perfectly he could sense your mood.

"You have terrible friends, you know that?" You replied, disregarding his flirtatious tone.

With a cocky chuckle, he wrapped his hand around your shoulder when he saw you crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

"Well, I know they're not the greatest people..." He paused, wondering what to say to cheer you up.

"And I don't like it when you treat me like I'm one of those stupid bimbos," you finally turned to him and pushed his hand away harshly. "How many times do I have to explain this to you and—"

His tight grip on your throat made you choke for air, and you nearly shrieked at his unexpected roughness.

"I think you've forgotten who's in charge here, little girl." Patrick growled into your ear, and you thanked God that the partition in the taxi was closed. "How many times have I told you I don't like this kind of attitude?"

Closing your eyes, you whimpered from lack of oxygen and tried to say something, but he didn't even give you the chance to do it as he covered your mouth with his greedy one. Bateman reveled in all your muffled, pitiful sounds, kissing you hard while his other hand slipped under your dress to possessively get a handful of your soaked pussy. Damn it! Instead of being scared, you were so fucking aroused and that only made the whole situation worse, because after Patrick let go of you, he sneered in the most arrogant way and brought his long fingers, coated in your flavor, to his lips to taste it.

"Don't ever compare yourself to those bitches," he reminded you, fixing the hem of your dress and gently stroking your leg; his face softened as he let out a disappointed sigh. "After all, I missed you so much, (y/n). And I thought you missed me, too."

"I missed you, I really did!" You panicked a little. Patrick was such a master of manipulation, a few moments ago you had accused him and his friends of having bad manners, and now you felt guilty about making that scene.

"So why did we have this shitty conversation about my colleagues and their whores instead of talking about us?" Patrick replied in a challenging tone, his big palm was still on your knee, but this time you didn't dare to brush it away.

"Because it makes me sad!" You blurted out and looked at him, now staring at the scenery through the taxi window.

"Fine, I won't take you to dinners like these anymore." His annoyed voice echoed in your ears, and you couldn't help but feel your heart breaking at his comment. You lowered your head down and cried, barely audible, but somehow Bateman immediately noticed.

"Are you crying, (y/n)? Seriously?"

"Patrick, maybe I should go home? I don't feel well and I don't want to disappoint you with—"

"Enough of this bullshit, okay?" He suddenly pressed you against his chest, letting you hug him around his waist. "I'm not letting you go, not now, not ever."

Where was your good mood and that sparkle that set your body on fire when you were in the restaurant? God, you hated yourself for acting like that, but his friends — those stupid yuppies — always made you sick to the stomach, but this time you really had lost your patience. And even though you calmed down now and hid your face in the crook of Patrick's neck, the tension between the two of you was still in the air, and you didn't really know what to expect when you arrived at his place.

After almost an hour, you were sitting on his big bed, completely naked and still shivering — you could still feel his touch on your most sensitive spots as Bateman had just washed you in the bathtub, rubbing and massaging you everywhere.

When you heard a soft click of the bedroom door, you raised your eyes to see him coming in, a glass of whiskey in one hand and a cigar in the other, his red tie loosened and some of the top buttons undone.

"How do you feel, babydoll?" Patrick asked you teasingly, shaking the glass in his hand and leaning against the door.

You swallowed hard when his super dark eyes glided over your exposed curves, and you had to hold back your rapid breathing, because you were so damn excited. " Much better, thank you."

Bateman let out a low chuckle before placing his drink on the shelf and coming a little closer to you, puffing on his cigar.

"Good," he smiled and blew a few rings of smoke. "Now show Daddy how you learned to use my gift."

His words forced the blood in your veins to curse faster, making your skin burn from the inside out. With a loud gasp, you lay on the bed, leaning on your elbows and spreading your legs wide, so he could see your succulent pussy.

As soon as you did so, Bateman clenched his chiseled jaw and almost bit down on the cigar, but he kept watching your little hand slide between your thighs, and when it reached your soaped slit, he couldn't help but growl — he'd been rock hard all this time, but now it was getting really painful.

"P-Patrick, I'm scared..." you whimpered abruptly, taking the pink silicone dildo — the one that has been laying beside you on the bed — and rubbing it along your taut lower lips to lubricate it. "It's so embarrassing."

"Oh, I know, honey. I know," he purred in his usual seductive voice, and unbuttoned his blue shirt. "But you don't have to be embarrassed. Trust me, baby, Daddy knows what's best for you."

Damn, that was too much.

Gulping and closing your eyes, you threw your head back and tried to let it go, placing the dildo at your dripping entrance, and the next second you cried out from the feeling of fullness as you pushed it deep into your womb.

"Such a good girl."

"D-Daddy!" You let out a high-pitched wail, focusing on his raspy voice as you were too embarrassed to open your eyes.

"Go on," Bateman exhaled sharply, putting the cigar in the ashtray, and then he unzipped his pants, his hot flesh literally pulsating. "You make Daddy so proud."

"Mhhm," his words made you arch your back, and you began to pump yourself with the sex toy, sensing a tight knot forming in your lower abdomen. "Pat-Patrick, please… talk to me!"

He didn't answer at first as he continued to undress, slowly stroking his engorged cock. "Ahhh, this is so fucking sweet," Patrick grunted, smearing his pre-cum around his swollen tip. "Can't do anything without my guidance, am I right, my babydoll?"

"Awww—yes," you gasped, your legs already shaking. "N-need you, Daddy! Need you so much…!"

At that moment, you didn't care about anything in the world, just the buzzing feeling in your core. There was only one person who could give you that vital release you needed so desperately, and you were more than ready to beg him if he asked you to.

"You know what," Bateman murmured as he finally undressed and joined you on the bed, and when you felt his big palm on your hip, you thought you were going to combust, but he gently stroked your cheek, soothing you a little, whispering: "Shh, my little one. Not yet."

You literally writhed on the sheets like a trapped kitten, afraid to breathe, afraid to say anything that would ruin this moment.

"Patrick..."

"Yes, dear... I'm here," he covered your hand with his bigger one, pushing the dildo even deeper, making you scream. "That's it, that's how you do it!"

"Awww, oh my GOD!" you tried to close your legs as the friction became too intense and Bateman just snickered at your pathetic attempt to stop him, so he just grabbed your throat and yanked it a little against the bed. "D-Daddy, it hurts!"

"Oh yeah?" Patrick couldn't hide his excitement when he saw your eyes watering, but his inner beast craved more. "I really wanted to be nice to you today, but you made me change my mind."

"Ahhh!" You clawed at his hand, which was choking you hard, but this man was too strong. "I'm... I'm s-sorry! I'M SO SORRY!"

The way he shoved the dildo into your bruised cunt was so fucking brutal that for one second you blacked out as the apex of it hit your cervix pretty brutally.

When you opened your eyes and yours met his, all you could see was lust mixed with rage. Huffing, Bateman suddenly moved down to your face to nip at your lips, then suck them and lick your cheekbone as he relished having such control over you. With a devilish grin, he continued to squeeze your neck, forcing you to fuck yourself with the dildo that was now completely covered in your juices.

"Do you hear that sound?" He taunted you, hovering over you and pressing you down with his massive muscles. "You're dripping like a fucking waterfall! So don't try to pretend you're not enjoying it, slut!"

"I'm going to explode!" Was all you could manage to scream as your whole body tensed like a spring.

"Awww, you're going to cum from fucking yourself with a cheesy sex toy, what a pathetic little whore!" Patrick almost barked these words in your face, but then he suddenly released your neck and went down to your collarbone, leaving wet, red marks here and there. "Keep going and don't you dare stop!"

Your eyes rolled back in your head when his wet tongue began to play with your swollen nipples, not to mention when he took one of them into his mouth and sucked it so eagerly that you cried out in pain. Trembling, you let him use your hand to set the pace, your inner walls aching every time the dildo brushed hard against them.

When Bateman noticed that your little frame was quivering too much, he quickly slipped down between your legs to suck on your clit and holy shit, he was so good at it, he definitely knew what he was doing.

"I—mhm, I'm gonna cum… Daddy, p-pleaseeee!" You were no longer moaning — at this point you were literally screaming, and your throat was burning, but that only spurred him on to eat you more fiercely.

"Mmmm, I've been thinking about tasting this pussy," he tugged on your sensitive bud before swirling his tongue around it. "For so fucking long."

Another deep thrust, followed by his merciless lapping at your oversensitive cunt, made your orgasm wash over you like a huge ocean wave. Shaking, your half-opened mouth froze in a silent cry as all your insides spasmed too intensely, and this sensation lasted so long that you almost fainted.

"Jesus, what a dirty girl you are," Patrick chuckled after he pulled away from your pussy and removed the dildo, his face covered in your wetness, it was literally running down his chin. "Look at that, you fucking cummed all over my face!" He forced you to look at him, and your dazed glance coaxed a loud chuckle from him. "You think I'm done with you?"

"I..." You tried desperately to pull yourself together, but the overstimulation hit you so hard that your brain refused to function at all.

"Yes, I'm talking to you!"

"Aww, w-wait!" You wailed loudly as he grasped your head and forced you closer to the edge of the bed. "Daddy!"

"Don't you 'Daddy' me," his ominous intonation was kinda scary, but you had no choice but to submit. "Don't worry, honey... I'm just going to play with your mouth a little..."

With a quick thrust, he pushed himself into your mouth, since you didn't really have any power to protest. Although it would have been pointless to do it anyway. You expected him to face fuck you really hard, but instead Bateman gently took your chin for support as his hips began to move faster, petting your head each time his red, swollen tip hit your throat.

"Arghh, your mouth feels so good, I missed that."

Patrick stroked your cheek almost lovingly, ignoring the way that you were almost gagging on his thick cock, savoring his cum and keeping eye contact with him. Grunting, he didn't last long as he collapsed into your mouth, rolling his hips and spilling his sticky liquid deep down your throat, and you didn't make any pathetic sounds, no whimpering or sobbing — you just took what he gave you. With your eyes closed, you drank him dry and heard him murmur:

"For now, I forgive you."

Slowly, Bateman pulled out from your abused mouth, leaving a trail of his cum and letting a few drops fall on your breasts.

"Clean them," he pointed at your tits, pumping his still hard cock and watching you catch the drops of his cum with your fingers. "Now get on your knees and spread your legs wide."

Whimpering, you obeyed and Patrick didn't waste any time, positioning himself behind you and wrapping his strong hands around your waist.

"Ahhh, Patrick..."

"Shush," he cut you off, rubbing his creamy cock between your ass cheeks. "I'm not going to fuck you in the ass, even though you really deserve it."

He rammed into your aching pussy without any mercy, stretching you even more from the inside and making you cry, your hands helplessly creasing the sheets beneath you.

"IT HURTS! AW!" You squealed as he pinned you down, forcing you to lie on your stomach as he trapped you under his massive body, relentlessly drilling your little hole.

"What? My dick is way bigger than that dildo, huh?" Bateman mocked you shamelessly, the slapping sound your bodies made was like music to his ears. "Ohh, what a poor little girl… mmhhm… I promise you… by the end of this night you will be so fucking full of my cum — that it will pour out, but I won’t stop… even if you beg me to!"

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale #patrick bateman imagines

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jewish-vents · 19 days

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I went to the Jewish quarter in Toledo today and I really don’t know how to feel. I’m part Sephardi, my ancestors most likely lived here at some point. I went to the Beit Knesset they would have went to, the oldest one in Europe, I think— it’s a museum now. Part of the floor was clearly new, and part of the floor was clearly ancient. I took a picture of the ancient part, the part that my ancestors would have also stepped on. There was a cross right under the two orange windows representing the Ten Commandments that Moshe brought down, and right next to that there were Christian murals of baby angels. It was beautiful, but there was such a tangible sadness to it, deadness, almost, that I couldn’t help feeling uncomfortable. The non Jewish tourists didn’t notice it, and that made me even more uncomfortable

There was a gift shop right next to the Beit Knesset. They were selling menorahs, not chanukias, seven-pronged menorahs— and all I could think of was ‘who is this for? Not for the Jewish tourists who come here, obviously, menorahs are for Beitei Knesset, not for home. Who is this for?’ It felt wrong. Later on, I saw the exact same menorahs in a different shop, a street away. This isn’t Judaica— Judaica isn’t mass produced like that, normally it’s handmade. It’s made with love, with care, it’s made with a Jewish touch. None of the items in this gift shop have a Jewish touch to them. Feeling like I was selling out my people, I bought a couple magen David magnets from there anyway

The Jewish part of Toledo feels… I’m not sure how to say it, but it’s like a remnant. You can tell that there was something before this, but that something is gone, it’s been wiped out. And that something was Jewish. And now it just drifts through this town, like dust, never properly gone but never enough than a vague feeling. And on top of all of that is a thick layer of Catholicism, and the knowledge of the brutality that brought this Jewish cultural centre to decimation

Toledo doesn’t really acknowledge what it did to its Jews. There’s a small square on the wall of a very old house, one that most certainly used to belong to a Jew before, that talks about Shmuel Levi, saying how he would rather have died by torture than become a confessor— they call him Samuel there, though, and I feel kind of stupid for how much I resent that. But that’s it. Instead they’re giving museum tours of the two Beite Knesset that used to exist before they were converted to being churches, and then war rooms, and now attractions. They’re selling Judaica that isn’t Judaica, right next to figures of Yeshu bleeding out on the cross. They’ve got small חי tiles on the corners of the street, but all I can think of is the Jews that were slaughtered in this town by the ancestors of the people who are now living in what were their houses

All I can think of is the pork being sold everywhere, and all the chametz people are eating before the sun sets on the last day of pesach

(sorry for the pretentious poetic language, I’m a writer I can’t help it)

Thank you for sharing this. There is something almost haunting about visiting places that were once Jewish but aren't anymore. I once saw a quote somewhere about how Memory is a sixth sense for Jewish people (I don't remember where I saw it but will try to find it again). Reading this reminded me of that.

I don't have many words of comfort. I actually don't live that far from Toledo. Our shul is tiny, but we have a kosher Torah from the time of the Inquisition. We outlived them.

-🐺

#jewish vents #antisemitism #tw mentions of genocide #jumblr #toledo #am yisrael chai

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sacrificialdaughterr · 12 days

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Something soft with abby x chubby reader? I don't see those much

I also love your writing, very underrated :)

a/n | being chubby myself, everything i write is automatically (in my mind) chubby reader. i think ill start adding it as a tag!! also thank you so much!!! i'm glad you like it <3<3

tags | abby x reader, fluff!! body worship(?), abby cant keep her hands to herself

There was something oddly comforting about the way pine soap mixed with the warm smell of a baking cake. Though two completely different aromas, they mixed beautifully, the sweet, chocolatey smell a perfect contrast to that of the earthy pine of Abby's usual soap. It almost had you feeling lightheaded, reeling in the way it wrapped around you as your hips swayed in time to the music; Stevie Nicks' raspy voice crackling from the record player sat in the corner of the kitchen.

The linoleum tiles felt cool beneath your bare feet, the soft fabric of the shirt you wore- something you stole from Abby- brushing against your skin as you let the melody of the music overtake you, leading you on a journey of relaxation as you impatiently waited for the ding! of the oven timer to grace your hearing.

You'd be lying if you said part of you wasn't doing this for attention- Abby's attention to be exact. You were all too familiar with how crazy it made her to see you dressed in one of her shirts; hem falling right at the curve of your ass, leaving little to the imagination as she drank in the sight of your plush thighs as if she were downright parched for it. You revelled in the way she'd whistle at you; a low, sultry whistle that sent goosebumps down your spine, always followed by drawled praise as her calloused hands groped and grabbed at your beautiful hips.

It was always the same story.

Even now.

A low whistle sliced through the air as easily as a knife through butter, the music nothing but background noise as you glanced over your shoulder. A shy smile pulled to your lips as your gaze landed on Abby; leaned against the doorframe, muscles rippling across her freckled biceps like the foamy waves that washed to shore. You suddenly became aware of how exposed you were, though you loved it, panties peeking out of the pine-infested fabric of the shirt that hugged your body.

"My baby.." She crooned, the obsession in her voice immediately diminishing the doubtful thoughts that swirled through your brain for merely a second. "Must be my lucky day.. Fuck.." She groaned, more to herself than anything, as her eyes travelled along the length of your plump figure, lingering on the way your thighs, even when standing, moulded together like clay.

A few long, quick strides later had Abby standing behind you, face finding the crook of your neck as she used your hips to pull you back into her. "What'd I do, angel? Hm?" She breathed out, warm breath caressing the shell of your ear.

Your eyebrows creased in question. Maybe it was how drunk you felt off her touch; rolling up the hem of your shirt to rub her hands along your bare sides, fingers ghosting across the rolls in your back, across the ridges of your stretch marks- or maybe it was the fact that she truly wasn't making much sense, but you didn't understand her words, what they were alluding to. "Nothing.." You mumbled, reassurance etched in your tone.

"Mm.." She hummed in thought, a smile of amusement pulling at the corners of her lips as she pulled back ever-so-slightly, blue eyes admiring the way her very own fingers sunk into your skin. In that moment, she understood how Michelangelo felt when he created the statue of David; skin made as soft as silk, features carved into the clay with the utmost love and attention as he constructed a piece of art that was almost biblical, had her wanting to fall to her knees and cry for at the sheer beauty bestowed before her. "Must've done something. I mean, shit.. Look at my pretty girl. All mine, yeah?"

Pressing your lips together, your gaze fell upon the kitchen counter as if the slowly-thickening bowl of icing you had been stirring was suddenly the most fascinating thing. Your face couldn't help but heat up as Abby's gentle words fully dawned upon you, settling over your nerves like a blanket of pure serenity. "Shush.." You managed to say- the only thing you managed to say, too flustered by the attention you were receiving to coherently form anything else.

"'M serious.." She mumbled, voice taking on a softer tone as she brushed stray hairs behind your ear, pressing a kiss against your temple as she hooked her strong arms around your waist. She rested her chin against your shoulder, lips brushing against your jawline as she mouthed the lyrics to the song you had completely forgotten about until this very moment, swaying languidly in time with the music that had suddenly taken its spot at the forefront of your mind.

Her fingers dipped into the icing, collecting the sweet substance on her calloused fingertips. With a soft, low hum of satisfaction, the taste of the homemade icing hit her taste buds- one that was then transferred to you; tongues mingling as her lips pressed against your own. "Wanna hear you say it, baby.." She drawled, smile gracing her features as she ran her palms against your hips in slow circles.

"Say what?" You merely squeaked in response.

"That you're all mine.."

The kitchen timer rang through the air, something that went unnoticed as you hung onto every word that dripped like honey from Abby's lips.

"I'm all yours," You finally whispered, dazed eyes glued to Abby's as your breathing grew unsteady, chest hitching in your futile attempt at taking a deep breath.

Abby nodded softly; an almost unnoticeable dip of her head. A satisfied smile found home on her freckled face as she pressed a soft, featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose.

Then she pulled away.

"Cake's gonna burn.."

#abby tlou #abby anderson #abby anderson moodboard #abby x you #abby anderson x reader #plus size!reader #chubby!reader #wlw #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2

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danganronpadespairtime · 10 months

Text

Chapter 2 part 1 asks

All responses are in this post for organization. There may be chapter 2 spoilers.

(space to prevent misclick)

xmicrophonyx asked: How long did it take you to make the Insane Literature Girl MV? It looked like you spent a lot of time on it!

Making the drawing and video itself took a little over a month. But I had been planning out the text portions (translation, text excerpts, ideas for puzzles) of it for a little over a year (my planning document dates back to May of last year and somehow amassed 12K words..?).

I wasn't working on it continuously for a year, though; it was just an on-off project that I was lazily thinking about for a while.

Anonymous asked: Hi this is a random question but I was wondering if I was just seeing things or not. Does Xander have a tongue piercing? I think in some sprites it looks like he has one and others where it looks like he doesn't. He is totally my favorite character and I love his design by the way!

It's not visible in all of his sprites, but he does indeed have a tongue piercing.

He thought if he had one there he could slip it under his old school's strict "no piercings allowed" policy by just closing his mouth every time a teacher walked by.

Anonymous asked: one genuine question, was there anything specific you were considering when coming up with the cast’s birthdates? or were they pretty much random

Some of the birthdays are specific dates with meaning, then the rest were filled in throughout the remaining months of the year in a somewhat even temporal spread.

xmicrophonyx asked: For this chapter's BDA and fake-out BDA, were they made with 3D assets, just 2D art, or a mix of both? What was the process in making them?

It's a 2D image with a depth map.

Anonymous asked: Is the Hope's Peak the DRDT class went to a high school or something more like a 4-year university for young adults? (Sorry if this has already been addressed somewhere, if the information exists I couldn't find it.)

The second thing. The US's Hope's Peak Academy is post-secondary education. It is equivalent to an American college.

Anonymous asked: I really love the character Fan-Made MVs you do, like for Min and David! Do you plan on making one for every character?

No. I only make MVs for songs that I think fit a character, that I like, and that I have a good MV idea for, which is not something I can control.

Anonymous asked: Does David's new design have a default sprite?

This one is his default sprite.

Anonymous asked: Hi DRDT Dev! This is more of just a simple question and not so much a chapter specific question. We know David like to eat simple foods like ready oat meal. But can he cook small meals like scrambled eggs, omelets or things like that? Oh and how does David normally manage his feelings? I like to think that he journals but this is just a head canon of mine. I'm curious if you could share anything like that about him for us!

He can cook a decent meal, he just prefers not to.

Badly

Anonymous asked: Do the cast have exact ages or are they just deemed “colleges aged adults”?

They all do have exact ages, down to the day, but that's a spoiler. For now, just know that they're over 18.

Anonymous asked: Something I'd been wondering since Rose had talked about her secret with Teruko: She mentions that she was bailed out and came to work under the Spurling Foundation by Richard Spurling. In Bonus Episode #2 with Xander, he mentions the name Duke Spurling with distaste in regards to the Chariton incident. Are Richard Spurling and Duke Spurling the same person? Or separate people? If they're the same person, is Duke a nickname or a title?

Duke Spurling and Richard Spurling are different people, but they are brothers. Duke is (was?) a politician. Richard is a billionaire philanthropist who founded the Spurling Foundation. Duke is not officially affiliated with the Spurling Foundation, but he did receive sizable political donations from that foundation while he was still active in politics.

Duke is a first name, by the way, and not a title. Also, Duke is quite old, in the 80-something-ish age range. Basically, old enough to have been alive during the Tragedy.

Anonymous asked: I was wondering if there are any other characters with canon sexualities?

I said before that I would only confirm sexualities in the story itself, but I changed my mind.

Whit - bisexual Eden - lesbian Ace - gay Veronika - pansexual David - bisexual with a strong female lean. but he describes himself as "straight but also not opposed to any random impulses that may arise" Teruko - unlabeled/explicitly ambiguous

Everyone else is subject to interpretation for now.

citrusircus asked: You've stated before that you don't want any of your assets used with AI, but I'd still like to ask whether or not this extends to the character.ai site (considering no intellectual properly is actually used to make these). Completely understandable if you'd rather people not touch it! Just wanted to clarify.

I don't like character.ai.

tophats-tea asked: Was there a particular incident that caused the scar on Charles’ arm, or was it just a usual chemical spill from working as a chemist?

It's a dog bite scar.

Charles is under the impression that it's a birthmark.

Anonymous asked: why does hu have claws on her hand?

Those are not claws. They are plectra for guzheng.

shi-daisy asked: For my question, I'd like to ask is there anything random you can tell us about Levi? He's my favorite character and I'd love to know any miscellaneous details about him be it preferences or silly info you may have of him or how you came up with his character. Thanks in advance!

He has an almost unruly sweet tooth and will consume an entire bowl of lollipops (his favorite candy) in an hour if he doesn't watch himself.

If you see him in future art with a white stick of some sort in his mouth it's almost certainly a lollipop.

murderacademia asked: Ooh, do you have a random fun fact about Charles as well? :) he’s a big fave of mine! Thank u!

He's secretly very attached to his hair length, and doesn't like the idea of cutting it short.

welpuu asked: do the cast all have favourite colours? if so which ones? (also sorry if this was already asked 😭)

Teruko: red (reasoning: association) Charles: "Why would I assign emotional value to colors? That's a ridiculous waste of energy." (cerulean) Whit: neon pink (reasoning: "Pink!!") Rose: lilac (reasoning: likes subdued colors for their subtlety) Arturo: blueish white (reasoning: sterile) Levi: cerise pink (reasoning: feminine) Eden: daffodil yellow (reasoning: happy) J: black (reasoning: cool) Hu: emerald green (reasoning: elegant) Nico: none (reasoning: no interest) Ace: dark blue/purple (reasoning: refuses to provide reasoning) Arei: azure (reasoning: "I'm blue, so clearly it's the best color!") Min: taupe (reasoning: comforting) Xander: bright red (reasoning: passionate color) Veronika: white in conjunction with other colors (reasoning: brings out other colors well) David: gamboge (reasoning: inspiring)

Since I'm on the topic, here are least favorite colors as well.

Teruko: pitch black (reasoning: unsettling) Charles: dark red (reasoning: looks like blood) Whit: gray (reasoning: boring) Rose: none (reasoning: all colors have their value in the right situations) Arturo: neon colors (reasoning: tasteless) Levi: neon yellow (reasoning: a little hard to style) Eden: blue (reasoning: "Kind of a downer color...") J: pink (reasoning: obvious) Hu: blueish white (reasoning: sterile) Nico: white (reasoning: unsettling) Ace: titian (reasoning: doesn't like himself) Arei: green (reasoning: looks like puke) Min: white and pink together (reasoning: annoying) Xander: dark red (reasoning: looks like blood) Veronika: white in the absence of other colors (reasoning: soulless) David: gray (reasoning: depressing)

cuckaracha asked: but also for a real cool and sexy question. Can we have a totally normal and not fucked up fact about Ace?

When I designed Ace from the start, I wanted him to wear heels (because he is short), but I thought that it was inaccurate for a jockey's outfit, and I didn't do it. But then later I remembered that he isn't jockeying at the moment, so it would have been fine if he wore heels. In any case I decided it'd be okay to add them back in his new design.

When it comes to jockeying, Ace wishes he was shorter (he is on the tall side for a male jockey), but for all other aspects of life he might find it bothersome to be shorter than everyone else. So he might have a tendency to wear shoes that enhance his height. Subtly of course.

Also, he has 9 siblings.

Anonymous asked: taking a note from the levi asker, are there any random fun facts about nico or veronika that you have? those two are my favorites!

Nico cuts their own hair. Veronika's single green earring is a 'good luck charm' given to her by her dearest friend.

welpuu asked: another simple question sorry...im curious about if any of them have favourite ice cream flavours...or like maybe flavours in general? unless thats too broad then the ice cream flavours is fine 😭

Teruko - red bean Charles - coffee Whit - vanilla Rose - red velvet Arturo - chocolate mint Levi - caramel Eden - honeycomb J - black sesame Hu - rose Nico - "the flavor" (doesn't elaborate further) Arei - birthday cake Min - lemon Xander - sauerkraut??? Veronika - funfetti David - pistachio Ace - frozen bananas (actual frozen bananas, not ice cream)

sunriseindigo asked: does rose have a favorite art medium (acrylics, colored pencils, graphite, etc)? also, does she do digital art or is she strictly traditional?

Paints are her specialty, particularly oil, and she rarely uses any other medium. She does not do digital art.

Anonymous asked: would you be willing to spare any fun information about Rose?

Her whole family has plant-themed naming.

Daisy (older sister)

Saffron (younger brother)

Holly (mom)

Iris (mom)

xmicrophonyx asked: Is there any concept art of the DRDT cast?

There is, but it's so embarrassingly awful that I don't think it will see the light of day any time soon.

Other than this.

I'm certain is the first ever drawing of DT. I guess Arei used to have black hair.

Anonymous asked: what does the cast smell like :)

Teruko - Dirt, sawdust, burnt smell Charles - Laundry detergent Rose - Paint and chemicals Arturo - Antiseptic Hu - Womanly perfume (light) Veronika - Womanly perfume (heavy) David - Men's cologne (light) Levi - Men's cologne (heavy). Also, somewhat faintly, leather Nico - Cat Ace - Sweat and menthol Min - Lavender/eucalyptus/lemons/whatever essential oil she decided to use that day Whit - Fruity fun shampoo (for kids) Xander - Men's 3 In One Body Wash (for men). Also, somewhat faintly, gunpowder MonoTV - metal and burning rubber

Anonymous asked: Is the Spurling Foundation and XF-Ture Tech the same thing?

They are totally unrelated institutions. The former is a philanthropic organization, the latter is a for-profit tech company (that also seems to do a lot of other things).

spyrkle4 asked: Question! Will sometime in the future will we know a little more about the sibling characters of some of the cast members? I honestly am just curious about J's brother and wanna know more about him

It’s good to have names to refer to characters, so here are the names of some characters who have been referred to in the story (and additional information about other characters as well)

Fuyuko + Natsuko Nageishi (Arei’s older sisters, by around 2-5 years): They are identical twins, in both appearance and persona. Actually, their appearances are mirrored. The two of them are always seen together and share everything with each other. They are best friends and very close.

Ryan Rosales (J’s younger brother, by about 1-2 years): He likes playing video games, and the two of them play games often. He also loves annoying J. One of his hobbies is cross-dressing.

Elliot “Ellie” Cuevas (Charles’ older brother, by about 11-13 years): Although he has not had an appearance yet, he looks shockingly similar to how Charles looks now. His favorite food is pancakes and his favorite animal is dogs.

Felicity Giles (Arturo's younger sister, by about 3-4 years): She also has not made an appearance yet. She has low self-esteem and admires Arturo a lot.

These characters (and others) have reference sheets, but those are meant for internal use only, so maybe later I will draw reference of their designs to show you all.

zamazencian asked: Is there a fun fact about Xander you could share? He's my favorite guy :D

He has a very weak sense of taste, and most normal foods taste bland to him. As a result, anything he cooks has an overwhelmingly strong flavor that makes it almost inedible to other people. He seems unaware of this.

sourapplecake asked: what kind of accent does xander have? i can’t tell if it’s british or australian or what 😭🙏 <- a little slow

British.

Anonymous asked: Do you ever have any plans of making promotional splash art in the future? I apologize if this has already been asked!!

Not really.

Anonymous asked: Is Min, like... truly really into essential oils and healing stuff?

She is aware that essential oils don't have any scientifically proven meaningfully significant benefits, but finds them relaxing nonetheless.

Anonymous asked: Does David wear hairclips because he likes them or is there some other reason?

It's his manager's idea for "branding." But David thinks they're embarrassingly stupid looking and doesn't like wearing them.

saraanzu asked: do you have the death order for the rest of the show decided in your head already, or are you figuring it out as you go along?

Decided from the start.

xmicrophonyx asked: Any fun facts about Whit?

He's the best cook in the cast. His specialty is French.

Anonymous asked: where did David's hairclip's go after he had his little transformation in chap2? cuz it looked like he ate them lol

www.google.com/search?q=pants+pocket&tbm=isch

Anonymous asked: hi, sorry if this is a silly question but how do you pronounce davids surname? ive seen it pronounced "chee - em" or "keem" but i just wanted to know if there's an official way to say it teehee

CHEE-em

chee as in cheese

em as in seem

0-kaiya-0 asked: Will there be more FTEs?

Maybe, but I'm not sure I want to put out any more polls.

Anonymous asked: will there be any canon couples?

I'm not one to write romance, so don't count on it.

Anonymous asked: Are people allowed to make nsfw content of your characters?

Sure.

Anonymous asked: How is Veronikas last name pronounced?

GRE-ben-SHI-ko-va

Gre as in regret

ben as in the name Ben

shi as in shiba inu

ko as in cold

By the way, here's a tip for (approximate) name pronunciation. If you can identify the origin of the name, go to Google Translate, type it in the left box, set the left language to the appropriate language, and hit the speaker/play button to have it read out-loud.

#qna

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jtl-fics · 1 year

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 26

Nicky can’t help but bounce his legs as they sit in the waiting room at the hospital. He’s had to leave the waiting room a couple times already because in Aaron’s effort to comfort him, and wow how far they’ve come he’s really raised Aaron to be such a thoughtful young man, the jackass has unknowingly made four more Miss Congeniality references.

This is a waiting room full of nervous families and Nicky is NOT about to be the guy who can’t stop laughing because Aaron mentioned World Peace in a snapback at Kevin.

Nicky is not going to be the one to explain FF’s jokes. He MAY already be planning a Miss Congeniality movie night. Neil, Aaron, and Kevin may not remember but ANDREW will and watching Andrew realize his friend was referencing an AMAZING movie when talking about how he took out one of the FBIs most wanted was all he wanted at the moment.

Another nurse comes in and calls out “Elias Smith?” But Wymack doesn’t get up from his seat still sipping his now lukewarm coffee. There’s been 14 different times she’s called for a ‘Smith’ family but Wymack hasn’t moved for any of them and different waiting families have gotten up to get updates and taken back to see their family members.

Maybe he wants to see Andrew’s face a little less than he wants to see FF’s right now. He has his flowers on a chair next to him and a get well soon card that he’d had Wymack also sign. He was waiting for Smith’s grandma to come to see if she wanted in on some card real estate

“Seriously, how many Smiths got stabbed yesterday?” Kevin marvels.

“At this point it’s at least 12.” Aaron remarks.

“I’m at 14 not including Smithy.” Nicky says.

“At least we’ll finally get to find out Smith’s first name.” Kevin crosses his arms and leans back heavily into the chair, “I’m hungry.” He whines.

“Yeah, at least there’s that.” Nicky agrees because not knowing FF’s name at this point made him feel like an incredibly BAD friend. Even mores than the fact that Nicky raised the man that stabbed FF last night. He turns his thoughts away from those thoughts, “You wouldn’t be hungry if you hadn’t bitched about the breakfast burritos I had us pick up.” Nicky argues.

“It was greasy! I’m already slipping on my diet after Thanksgiving and eating that pie.” Kevin argues back.

Nicky can’t help but think of Kevin as a pageant contestant in that moment.

Nicky looks heavenward for the strength not to laugh.

“Then go get something.” Aaron says from Nicky’s side, “There’s gotta be a cafeteria or something around here.” Aaron adds.

“I don’t want to go alone.” Kevin shoots back and Nicky can HEAR Aaron roll his eyes.

“Fine, whatever I need more coffee anyways. Let’s go find a cafeteria.” Aaron says getting up and Nicky looks at his cousin, “Text us if you get a room number.” He says.

“Will do.” Nicky agrees.

Then it was two.

It’s about five minutes before, “David Wymack?”

Nicky’s head shoots to Wymack and he sees the smug amusement on their coach’s face.

That motherfucker.

Nicky followed Wymack up to the doctor in question. “How’s he doing?” Wymack asks.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…” The doctor says and Nicky feels his stomach sink into his toes.

***

Neil has NEVER been more relieved to be out of a car and that includes the ones Lola had him in (though that might be because being out of those cars meant he was closer to his death by way of Nathan).

Granny Smith had not spoken a word unprompted since they had climbed into the car. Granny Smith had the exact same expressionless face as her grandson did but it is only now that Neil realizes that there was always some hint of emotion on FF’s face. Neil wasn’t great at knowing exactly what those emotions were but they were there.

Granny Smith’s rage was pretty hard to miss.

“I think she knows.” Andrew had said with his hands white knuckled at 10 and 2.

“How could she?” Neil questions. “Smith’s phone fell in that toilet before he got stabbed.” He says but he can feel the anger and can feel it directed towards them.

She had seemed so nice with Paul!

Though Paul didn’t have anything to do with her grandson getting stabbed. Neil could understand how that might sour any niceness.

Neil and Andrew had pulled into the parking lot and it was only then that Granny Smith leaned forward and pointed towards the entrance.

Words weren’t really necessary then.

Before Neil could even try and trudge through offering to bring her bag to her the woman was out of the back of the Maserati and through the sliding doors of the hospital.

“Maybe…maybe she’s just like that? Smith likes to sit in silence too?” Neil tries but Andrew doesn’t say anything as he turns the Maserati into the parking lot to find a space.

They walked in only to find the receptionist looking confusedly at Granny Smith as the woman spoke in rapid Polish but was getting nowhere.

Neil watched as Andrew squared his shoulders and walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned around she the fear and anger shown through in her expression. Neil could understand in a way. FF was her grandson and considering the fact that FF had likely gotten his interest in languages from learning Polish from her?

They’re probably close.

Neil is pretty sure that normal close family members worry like this.

Almost positive.

He may not have the best examples in his own life but he has watched enough television and enough movies to start to see what might be considered normal!

Really!

Anyways…

Andrew points towards the doors that would lead them towards the elevator that they could take up to the waiting room.

Neil watches as Granny Smith visibly struggles before nodding. Andrew holds out his hand and she stares at it before Andrew points at her bag.

She blinks, looking taken aback.

“I can carry it.” He offers.

It’s a few moments of looking between Andrew’s face and his hand before she hands over her bag.

Andrew puts it over his shoulder and the three of them silently made their way up. The elevator ride was slightly less excruciating than the car ride but only just.

They got off and saw Nicky, Wymack, and a Doctor.

“…so he may not wake up.” Neil hears and watches as Andrew’s shoulders go instantly tense and Neil feels his own heart jump into his throat.

Then Nicky laughs.

“Of course he’s sleepy!” Nicky throws his head back.

“Yes, he had a high level of cortisol, that’s the stress hormone, in his blood. He should wake up either late today or early tomorrow though.” The Doctor says.

“Oh thank GOD.” Nicky says with a relieved slump to his shoulders, “You really gotta work on how you start conversations like this Doc! I thought you were going to tell me Smithy died not that he’s just going to sleep like the dead for at least 18 more hours!” Nicky exclaims before his gaze slides off of the Doctor and onto their group. “Oh!” Nicky moves past the Doctor and stops in front of them. “You must be Smithy’s grandma!” He says and offers his hand like the sweet respectable young man that Nicky absolutely isn’t.

“Nicky, she doesn’t-“

“Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek.” Granny Smith knocks his hand away and pinches his cheek. Nicky visibly melts at the warm tonę even if he doesn’t know what is being said to him.

“Oh!” Nicky says, “I hope I don’t butcher this, Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” He says haltingly before pausing, “Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” he says but this time his enthusiasm has the language come out more smoothly.

Granny Smith seems to light up even more. “Czyż nie?”

“Nicky, since when did you know Polish?” Andrew asks brows raised slightly in shock.

“What? You two aren’t the only ones who decided to learn a cute foreign language so you could have secret couple conversations.” Nicky huffs frowning at the two of them, “Erik’s company has an office in Poland, he thinks it might be fun to try living there for a while so we’ve been learning the last year and a half.” Nicky says, “Smithy’s been such a huge help on it too!” He adds.

Neil opens his mouth, thinks about it, and closes it.

That’s fair.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

EDIT: 6/8/23: Thanks @shirlai for fixing my janky Polish for Nicky!

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @fuckyeahjeanmoreau @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

Also if anyone fluent in Polish wants to correct me on any of the Polish wants to correct me / sends smoother Polish please do! I am just using Google Translate for GS.

Translations:

Ty musisz być Nicky! Jesteś taki przystojny, tak jak powiedział mój kurczaczek. = “You must be Nicky! You're so handsome, just like my chicken said.”

“Dziękuję! Uwielbiałem Pani ciasto!” = “Thank you! I loved your pie!”

“Nazywa go Pani swoim kurczakiem? Jakie to słodkie!” = “You call him your chicken? That’s so cute!”

“Czyż nie?” = “Isn’t it?”

#Fluent Freshman AU #Phew!#Finally got this one out #You might be wondering #Where did Aaron and Kevin go?#The answer is that Kevin saw the nutrition office #and was compelled to go ask for advice #Aaron left him there because he needs to find the cafeteria to get coffee #What happens first #Will Aaron get back to Kevin before the nutritionist runs out of patience?#Tune in to find out #Is Nicky about to experience the highs and lows of having a loving grandma?#Yes #Will Neil and Andrew get to experience those same highs and lows?#time will tell #It's me #I'm time #I will tell #I do think it's funny that I start feeling bad when I don't update this #and it's been like 4 days since the last update #which is not all that long ago #The OCD completionist that I am is taking a lot of joy just minesweeping the map in tears of the kingdom #I am one of those psychos that has to get all the korok seeds #I still have not progressed the plot #but I am free #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #AFTG #Andreil #My Fics

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thatseitagremlin · 24 days

Text

gremlyn's danganronpa: despair time x limbus company au: hell's chicken edition (in which arei is also the ultimate conflict escalator)

the number of students who canonically can cook is actually rather high, but with 17 of these bastards running around there's bound to be Multiple incidents... (more yapping under cut!)

drdt cast's canon cooking abilities notes: -) has cooked in-universe: eden (ch1e3 baking + ch2e1 breakfast), hu (ch1e5 dinner), levi (ch2e1 breakfast), nico & veronika (ch2e3 breakfast), charles (ch2e4 cucumber flowers... do they count?? but he can cook eggs by ch2e8 so i'm putting him here) -) implied that they can cook: min (ch1e3 baking; afaik eden does most of the steps but she was there for the scene and understands the processes so i'll just put her here), rose (ch1e3 baking + ch2e6 lunch: "i was apparently supposed to help cook this meal"), j (ch2e1: "...the last thing i feel like doing is cooking"), arei (ch2e1: "but i also don't want to cook. what to do...") -) stated in qnas: whit (best cook in the cast, specialty is french), david (can cook decently but is usually too lazy to), xander (has a weak sense of taste and compensates by adding in Too much flavor, so his food is inedible to everyone else) -) disaster in the kitchen: teruko (ch1e1 investigation + ch1e5 dinner uses this exact wording, but i assume this mostly pertains to her bad luck fucking up electronics since she makes her own food throughout ch2) -) unknown: ace, arturo (afaik these two's cooking ability have never been mentioned so far!), mai (we barely know anything about her. so)

i split up all 16 sinners (replacing whit with mai, since arei banned him from the competition) into four teams of 4. i initially tried randomizing it while sticking to my personal rules of "xander and arei in different teams", "arei and eden in the same team (so they can cook together once before arei's character development)", and "hu in the same team with a 'sabotager' so she doesn't win", but i eventually decided to just make the teams manually. in-universe you can see this as arei rigging the votes.

this didn't end up as chaotic as canon limbus, but i guess that's what happens when most of your cast can canonically cook, so you have to provoke them to beefing with each other...

-) team 1: xander, ace, j, david. there was not enough common sense to counter xander's tastebuds and he learned absolutely nothing. sad! -) team 2: arei, levi, nico, eden. there was not enough hater energy to counter arei's sabotage. also arei had fun even disregarding all the sabotage she did but she won't admit that (yet) -) team 3: rose, arturo, veronika, mai. it's less "food" and more "abstract art piece" that horrifies their poor client, inflicting 10 sinking potency and 8 sinking count -) team 4: charles, min, teruko, hu. with hu's guidance they actually made a really good "family restaurant"-style chicken dish. the ones where it's a big portion for a family to share. they try to get teruko to carry the dish but min realizes and stops teruko from touching the plate. Unfortunately teruko's luck kicks in and min ends up dropping the dish anyways -) won by default: mai secretly let whit in team 3's kitchen and let him cook a backup dish just in case every team fucked up. papa bongy accepts the dish and they eventually un-distort him, making him mvp of the mission and winner by default!

#gremlynposting #ingin menjadi illustrator namun enggan menggambar #danganronpa despair time #drdt #xander matthews #teruko tawaki #j rosales #ace markey #min jeung #veronika grebenshchikova #david chiem #arei nageishi #whit young #everyone else is mentioned in the yapping but i won't tag them since this was. meant to be an art post #that is Hopefully understandable with the little context i wrote on the top?#whatever. silly guys in a self-imposed cooking contest. thats all you need to know!! yaaaaay!#also testing how i want to make “comics”

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ravensmadreads · 2 months

Text

The Mess of Us

A/N: i have no excuse honestly. I've imprinted on David York for reasons unfathomable to my own brain. This is my attempt at giving him a redemption arc? A softer backstory? My heart and soul? Who knows.

Warnings: uhhhh lots of angst (i mean i tried), almost entirely canon compliant, vague-ish attempt at smut, mild cursing, insane use of italics. (Also: english is not my first language and im faking being a writer but i think this came out okay??? Pls be kind he's my lil babie!!)

Summary: I gave david york my heart and then proceeded to bash it with a sledgehammer - forgive me :p this is the same universe as What Love Means

Taglist: @fuckyeahdindjarin cause i wouldn't be writing without you; @chronically-ghosted thank u to listening to me cry about Dave, and my writing, and myself - i owe u my life; @wannab-urs you absolute maniac i adore u; @timelordfreya u were so kind on the accompanying piece for this i hope you like this too <3

David York

You've known that name for a long time. Stayed with the man that inhabits it even longer. He goes by Dave now. Lives in a suburban home. Has two daughters. An "office job". A respectable man. A good man. A little misguided perhaps. A little bit more jaded than he used to be. More broken than you remember. The light in his eyes all but snuffed out. But a good man.

He was always a good man.

Even when he was no longer yours.

Even when he was no longer David.

****

David York and his sunshine. Neighbours. Best friends. Light of each others lives.

You're two halves of one whole in a way that makes no sense from the outside, but when you tread close enough you can pinpoint the exact strands that join your soul to his. The way his heart is an exact mirror to yours. The way your smile reflects the sun in his eyes and his warmth leaves you feeling more loved than any being in the entire universe. You'd stumbled across him, buried between the pages of a book twice the size of his head, and you thought: Oh God. It's you. It's going to be you. And you decided you'd never let him go.

Until he decided to leave.

He's so excited when he gets the call. When he makes his plans and packs his bags. When he tells you all about the good he's going to do, the hero he's going to become.

"I'll be back soon sunshine. You won't even know I'm gone."

You try to convince him to stay. With everything you've got in you. All your jokes, all your warmth, all your schemes. When that fails you give him your heart. Your tears. Explain that you can't live without him. That he can't expect you to live without him and not fall apart at the seams because he's the thread that holds you together. And when you see the anguish on his face at your confession, you revel a little because you think you've won. He's going to stay for you because of course he is. He's your David. He cups your cheeks in his hands. Lips meet your forehead as his words break your heart:

"I'm sorry sunshine. You know I have to go. I have to do this. You know."

So you wipe off your tears and you smile. Because that's what you're supposed to do for a friend and that's what you do for him. Give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Tell him to be safe.

"Don't get your butt kicked too much David. I need you back in one piece."

And that's the first time David York turns his back on your smile.

****

You wait for him. Like the inexplicable fool you are. Wander aimlessly in the streets around your childhood home like a spirit too tired to haunt anyone but itself. Waiting for him to come back and spark you alive again. Awakening for the few weeks of leave he has before reverting to your state of nothingness the minute the door closes behind him. Flitting like a ghost of yourself, nothing tethering you to this place, but still incapable of moving on without him.

Because he was David York. Your best friend.

Your good man. Your solid rock.

Until he wasn't.

Until he left.

****

You learn to make your way without him. Stumble, fall and scrape your knees more than once, without him by your side clucking and fussing like the mother hen he was. Without him to hold you up and bring you close:

"You’ve got to be careful honey. I can't be losing my sunshine."

You find a purpose and make your stand into the big bad world but all of it feels hollow without him by your side. You learn to stitch people up, bandage their wounds, hold bleeding skin in place and snap broken bones back together again. He laughs when he finds out, equal parts amused and proud.

"Looks like you became the anti-Dave sunshine."

And you smile for him, because of course you do. You don't tell him that everything you're learning, you're learning because of him. Because of the sheer wall of terror that's settled in your spine since the moment he walked away. Because of the David that comes to you in your dreams. The one that crumbles in front of you; broken and damaged and begging for help. The one you're trying so hard to save.

You may be his sunshine, but he was always your sun, and you'll protect him, even if he doesn't want you to.

****

The David that comes to you now is not yours. He's an off brand version of himself. A cheap copy. An imposter that calls himself Dave and smirks in a way that makes your skin crawl. He wears Davids skin but has none of his warmth. The sunshine in his smile is replaced by an ice cold sharpness and you hate that shivers it sends down your spine. His eyes have lost most of the humour they used to have, and when he hugs you he lets go a little too soon. A little too fractured, a little too cold. You hold on; assessing, caring, and wondering. Go to ask but he shakes his head; the look in his eyes silencing your questions before the words can form on your lips. The worry in your heart worsens.

When he walks you home you try again but he anticipates it. Like the predator he is now, he sees your strike coming, and retaliates in the one way he knows will force your silence. He kisses you. Hot and deep. Steals the air from your lungs and the words from your brain. Renders you shocked. When you open your eyes it's your David staring back again and your relieved smile has him pushing into you again. He kisses you until you're breathless. Again, and again, and again, until all your worries are dripping unvoiced at your feet and all your questions have been sucked into the air in his lungs.

You don't fall into each other as much as you attack. The culmination of years of circling each other and it all comes down to this. Mouths open, teeth clashing like you're trying to make your way into each others souls. His hands grab you so desperately, so fervently, that you wonder how he hasn't moulded you into his own chest yet. Your nails scratching at him like you're trying to carve a home in his bones. You’re trying to tear pieces of each other apart. Him, so he may take you with him and you, so you never have to watch him leave again. You devour every inch of him so reverently that the taste of him may remain embedded in your tongue forever. And he carves his way into you, soothing an emptiness that only ever craved him. Pounding in like he's trying to break you open and consume the light within. You cling to each other in the aftermath, breathless, sated and smiling, and you remember placing a kiss on his heart right before you drift off in his embrace.

You should've known, in retrospect, that that was as good as it was ever going to get.

He leaves you in an empty bed. Runs away before the dawn breaks like the consequences of what you both did are too ugly to be faced in the light of day. You turn the apartment upside down looking for one note, one glimpse, one hint of him that's not mottled on your skin and going to be torn away by the cruel hands of time.

You take the dismissal for what it is when you don't find one.

****

He comes back broken. Purple shadows under his eyes, a split lip and a wince that breaks you when you go to hug him. The storm breaks and you lunge. Too strung out to keep going like this any longer and too frazzled by thoughts of "what if it was worse" to think about the consequences of breaking your silence.

Your fists pound against the rock hard of his chest. The place that used to be your solace, your comfort, your home. Where you'd set your head too many times to count and where all your dreams ever went to rest. And they've turned it to stone, moulded him into a machine, changed him into something he's not.

"You're not a fucking hero David. You're not. And I'm asking you to stop trying to be one. I'm asking you to stop this self sacrificial bullshit and come back. Come home. You don't need to be a hero. You just need to be alive. I need you alive dammit! Why can't you see how much I need you?"

Your voice falters and cracks. It's out there now, the pieces of your heart; ugly, tattered and split open in front of him. Waiting for his judgement, for his grace. His face twists into a grimace, and you turn your head before he can see the tears fall. You don't need his apologies. His empty words and false promises of how nothing will ever happen to him, because it will, you know it will. So you hold up a hand before he can begin.

"It's okay. I get it. This is your life now, right? So will you forgive me then, if I can't stand around watching you try to kill yourself and wait for the day you inevitably succeed?"

Something in his eyes breaks at your words, and something in your heart does when he gathers you in his arms. The kiss on your temple feels like a goodbye. To your one solace, your one crutch and the only friend you ever had. And you know this goodbye will haunt you forever.

That's the one time you turn your back on David York.

****

He comes back with an extra sparkle in his eyes. Pleads and begs his way into your good graces and you indulge him because that's what you do for David. His smile has never been brighter. He may call you sunshine but he has always been your shining light, your beacon, the lighthouse you turn to.

But then he turns away. And in a split second, your world tilts on it's axis.

Carol.

Her name is Carol. Perfectly normal. Perfectly sweet. Perfectly perfect. He's got his hand in her hand and you don't understand. You can't. You refuse. Except.... David. He looks so happy. So content. Looks at her with all the devotion you've only ever given him, and all the love you wish he could've given you.

"What do think sunshine? I think she may be the one."

You smile. Because that's what you always do for David. You smile. It's an ugly thing. Fractured. Broken. He notices because of course he does. You've never been able to hide from him, ingrained as he is into your very soul. His smile falters and his eyes fill with sorrow and regret. Apologies for all he could never be and all the regret he has about it.

"You did good York. You'll be great together."

He flinches. He has only ever been David to you. He knows he has broken something irreparable. Opens his mouth to fix it. To swallow something back, say something else instead. Change the words, the letters, the combinations of decisions that led you both to this very moment. Something to keep you whole but the parts he shattered, however unwittingly, are already crumbling to dust in front of him. He closes his mouth. Swallows whatever lingered at the back of his throat. You smile at each other as you walk away. Him with her hand in his. You with the cloud of pain that comes from finally accepting the bitter truth for what it is.

He's not yours. Not anymore. Never will be again.

You never call him David again.

***

You miss him. Of course you do. Running from him was like running from a part of yourself; impossible, regretful and pointless. You were intwined into each other too thoroughly for there to ever be a clean cut through. You couldn't really walk away from him completely no matter what the distance on a map points out.

You know he'll call when he comes back again. He does. Shows up at the threshold of your sanity and the hardest thing you've ever done is ignore his voice when it calls to you. Voicemail, after voicemail, after voicemail. You listen to every single one but you can't call him back. His voice is your kryptonite. You'd walk back the distance if only you could but some tattered remnants of your self esteem hold you back. The last one comes with a letter in the mail. The glossy embellished card reminds you of the reason you walked away. The reason you could never go back. He pleads over static and tinny phone lines:

"Come on sunshine. I need you there. I'm sorry. I'm so s-. Please. I- "

Silence for a few minutes before the line cuts off. Typical of you both. To never say what you want and yet be assured the other knows exactly what you mean. He probably knows too. That you can't bear to see someone else's name next to his. The thought makes you nauseous; angry in a way that scares you, an evil coiling restless being inside of you, threatening to do as he asks. Go over there and scream in his face. The audactiy of this man to say he needs you when all you ever wanted was for him to pick you. Over the chip on his shoulder, the gun in his hand, the name on that card. Choose you. Love you. But you can't do any of that. You can't stand by his side and smile as he walks away with another either.

His only mercy is that he doesn't show up at your doorstep when you both know he could and you wouldn't be able to close the door in his face. Not him. Never him.

You throw the card away without opening it.

He forgives you.

But he never calls again.

***

Months turn to years and David York turns from a stabbing ache into a memory and then a ghost. He haunts you initially, at every turn, but slowly, over the years, the voice in your head softens down. He vanishes into the fog that lingers at the back of your mind and you stop looking over your shoulder for him to come back. You left him so suddenly, so abruptly, that you'd torn off pieces of yourself too. But time heals those wounds and you gradually learn to carry on as half of your bleeding heart slowly scabs and scars over.

You carve out a content little place for yourself, in a tiny corner of the world as you finally learn to love the reflection in your mirror. There's grey in your hair now. Wrinkles in your skin and hands hardened over from a life lived serving others. Saving who you can, when you can. A melody on your lips as you collect the parcels from your mailbox. Cocoa and bitter coffee long since mask the taste of his name on your breath.

There's a knock at your door and you flit to open it. Your smile, a pale imitation of what it used to be, plastered on, as you brace yourself to greet a well meaning neighbour or two. It falls quicker than lightning at the sight that greets you instead.

A man wavers at your doorstep. Unfamiliar in his familiarity. The ghost of a memory of a love never forgotten. Dripping crimson over the smiley face on your welcome mat. A haphazard bandage concealing half his face. One hand clearly broken. Arm bent at an angle too sharp to be natural. Angry streaks of purple and blue dancing around all visible patches of skin and he's trying to be nonchalant about the way he's favouring his right leg but failing miserably. Wheezing a breath that you know speaks of atleast one, if not several, broken ribs. And yet, despite all the damage and destruction and sheer agonizing pain he's no doubt in, the man smiles. Full and bright and warm.

"Hey sunshine."

And you reply.

A gasp. A plea. A promise.

David.

****

#david york x reader #dave york x reader #raven writes #(again)#(somebody stop me already)#ok so this is quite literally my heart in a fic so PLS be kind #off u go bby #raven on her david york agenda #yeeting into the void and running away

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reysdriver · 11 months

Text

Rockstar!Sirius

headcanons of Sirius as a rockstar/musician — rockstar!sirius x fem!reader

warnings: some sexual headcanons so minors dni cus it's not for you

words: 0.4k

a/n: I will be writing more of this AU, I just realized I hadn't done anything for rockstar!sirius so I had to do some quick hcs

- The band is The Marauders of course (I've said this for every rockstar headcanon list so far lol)

- Sirius is 100% the lead singer; he loves being the center of attention and this is the best way for him to get that

- He does play some instruments like guitar or keyboards if the band needs, but his main role is vocals

- Glam rock aesthetic, like he LOVES the makeup, the jewelry, the flashy outfits, everything

- I could see him in a classic rock 'n' roll look, but for the band's peak, he's wearing those platform boots and glittery clothes

- Remus writes most of the songs for the band, but Sirius writes some too

- And most (if not all) of the songs he writes are about you, and I'd say about half of them are sexual

- Insists that you're his 'muse', says he can't be a star without you there

- So he'll bring you on all the band's tours, and dedicates every concert to you because 'without you, I'd be nothing'

- You'll even have your own little something in the band's contracts (like your favourite candy in the dressing rooms or just anything like that) because Sirius insists you be treated like part of the band

- And speaking of 'part of the band', he takes you on shopping sprees to buy matching outfits with him so that the entire world knows who you are because he just wants to show you off in the best clothes his rockstar money can buy

- Wants you to star in the band's music videos and be on their album art

- The entire fanbase knows about you (how could they not? do you really expect Sirius to keep you a secret) and they love you

- He will talk about you in every interview he does

- I picture him super tattooed (like he was after azkaban but like in a good way)

- Honestly just rockstar!sirius is Damiano David like literally same exact person

- If it's modern, he'll post pictures on social media like Jennifer Lopez using Ben Affleck's cropped nudes for a father's day pic

- Or like post-sex selfies like his smug face after eating you out that you equally find so embarrassing and flattering

- And when you tell him (only partially seriously) to keep those pictures private, he just teases and says 'how else will the world know how much I love you if I don't show them?'

#sirius black #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fluff #rockstar!sirius #rockstar!au #rockstar!marauders #marauders era #marauders headcanon #marauders fluff

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fluentmoviequoter · 5 months

Note

Hi,

I have a request for you. Deacon and reader have to pretend to be into a relationship for a undercover mission. But both of them love each other secretly and actually don't want to pretend.

💕

This is such a good idea!! Writing this was a ton of fun. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Warnings: angst, fluff, canon typical danger/action/violence, OC Andres Cabrera, references to drug trafficking, Deacon gets protective and a lil angry. I think that's all!

Word Count: 2.7k+ words

A/N: Does Metro go under cover? I don't know. But I do know that SWAT doesn't, so I brought Metro in. Also, I proofread and fixed a few errors after posting, but let me know if I missed anything!

Picture from Pinterest

The Real Us

You fell for Deacon quickly and continue to fall deeper every day. You refuse to tell him because you are too scared to risk your personal and professional relationships. If only you knew he feels the exact same way; maybe everything would be different. Working with Deacon, seeing the good, bad, and ugly at work and in each other’s personal lives showed both of you that the other was worthy and deserving and impossible not to love. As Deacon got used to you during your probationary period, Hondo thought he was like a Doberman puppy, a vicious, lovesick combination as he follows you around while threatening everyone that comes too close. Now, you both resign yourselves to be friends and teammates, hoping it’s enough.

When Hondo yells your name attached to Deacon’s, your heart beats faster. “Hicks’ office,” Hondo finishes before he turns on his heel.

You fall into step beside Deacon, glancing at him.

“What did you do?” he teases, bumping his arm against your shoulder.

You struggle to remember to keep work first. Even if your safety wasn’t on the line, your fear of rejection keeps you from opening up completely. Likewise, Deacon is concerned you won’t want to date a superior or that you’re secretly in a relationship.

“Nothing, that I know of. Maybe Hicks found out you told Luca he could use the food in the fridge. After removing Hicks’ name,” you respond, smiling at him.

“Keep your voice down,” Deacon hisses.

“Here goes nothing,” you whisper as he opens the door for you.

Stepping into the office, you stop in front of Hicks’ desk and place your hands behind your back as Deacon joins you. Several officers from Metro are talking to Hicks and Hondo, who glances over and gestures for you to wait a minute.

“They’re going to steal one of us,” Deacon muses. “20-David won’t be the same without you.”

“Why would they take me? You’re way more experienced.”

“You’re prettier,” he says with a shrug. “Metro has a type.”

Your eyes widen as you turn to him, but you don’t get to ask what he means by that. Knowing that Deacon thinks you’re pretty, assuming he wasn’t still joking, sends a shiver down your spine.

Hondo nods at you before explaining, “Metro needs your help with a case.”

“Your Sergeant Hondo has already told us that we’re incompetent,” one of the officers adds.

“You’re the one that came to me for help,” Hondo shoots back. “They need a UC couple. Known drug trafficker Andres Cabrera is throwing a gala on his yacht, and there’s sure to be product, use, and purchasing.”

“Why not send actual UCs?” Deacon inquires.

“We’re stretched pretty thin, for one. But this also has a very high risk of getting dangerous. We’d rather have officers more prepared to deal with an ambush,” the Metro sergeant answers.

“What exactly is the purpose of the operation? I assume being under cover means we have to get firsthand proof of something,” you say.

“We need to find the leader of the trafficking operation, but we’d like to get proof of a purchase and find the hidden product if possible. The more we can get on this guy, the better. Most importantly, though, is to locate our guy. When you do, the rest of your team and my guys will be able to move in.”

You nod as Deacon agrees to join the team.

“So, for the most important question,” Hondo begins, winking at you, “what are they wearing?”

“I’m sorry,” Hicks says to you.

Sighing, you drop your shoulders. You knew when you heard gala it would be over-the-top, but you hope it’s not too bad.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your hopes are crushed. It’s terrible. The silky fabric is tighter than you’d prefer through the waist, then flares out. On the bright side, your gun is concealed. That’s the only plus, however. Stepping out of the locker room, you nearly run into Deacon.

“Sorry. Oh,” you say, gripping Deacon's biceps to stay upright. “You look great.”

Deacon’s three-piece suit matches the color of your outfit and makes him look even more handsome and dreamy than usual.

“Are you serious? You, you look perfect. I mean, you always look beautiful, but this is- I can’t catch my breath.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, stepping back as Deacon smiles. Tugging the outfit into a slightly more comfortable position, you feel Deacon’s eyes on you.

“You look amazing,” he says genuinely. “You’ll do great.”

“Whoa!” Luca and Hondo yell when you walk out, your arm looped through Deacon’s.

“You two clean up nice,” Hondo adds.

“Thanks,” Deacon says, shaking his head.

“Go get your sneak on, Deac,” Luca yells as Deacon pulls you away.

Tan is driving the limo to the docks and whistles obnoxiously before opening the door for you. The attention is funny from your friends, but from strangers and drug traffickers, it won’t be as enjoyable.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you two prepared to play a couple?” Tan asks as you near the coast.

“I think we can handle it. We know each other pretty well,” Deacon answers.

“And PDA?”

You shake your head at Tan, who is watching you in the rearview. It would be a last resort because one touch from Deacon might ruin you. There is no going back once you start something, especially something you so desperately need.

“I’m going to keep you close,” Deacon whispers into your ear as you exit the limo. “Is that okay?”

You nod, smiling at him as his arm circles your shoulders, leading you to the oversized yacht.

“What do rich people do on yachts paid for by drugs?” you ask through your smile.

“Right. Because I’m the expert on that,” Deacon jokes. “Just act like we belong. Blend in.” You don’t hear him say, “As much as you can looking like that, anyway.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon’s hands are all over you. When you’re close enough to touch, Deacon tucks you under his arm against his side. Otherwise, you find yourself in his arms as you dance or linking your fingers with his as you socialize with people you will never understand. You’re like a magnet, and he can’t resist you.

“Dance with me,” Deacon says, leading you to the dance floor with a hand on your waist and his other hand in yours. “I think there’s something happening portside. Check it out and tell me what you think.”

You look over his shoulder, turning your chin toward Deacon. “You’re right. I can’t tell what they’re talking about though.”

You jerk your head down toward Deacon’s chest suddenly, and he instinctively pulls you closer.

“What?”

“I think one of them was looking at me.”

Deacon spins quickly, confirming what you thought. “He’s coming over here. Your call.”

“Let me dance with him if he asks. I’ll see what I can find out.”

“I’ll be close.”

“Excuse me,” the man interrupts, looking at you as he talks to Deacon. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Not at all,” Deacon answers, though the look in his eyes says the opposite.

The man takes one of your hands as his other finds your waist. He pulls you close, too close. Deacon held you against his chest, and it felt right and safe, but being against this man’s chest is completely different.

“My name is Andres,” he introduces himself. Your target. “And I must say, you are the prettiest woman on my yacht tonight.”

“Well, I like to dress to impress,” you reply, moving your hand on his shoulder toward his collar.

“I don’t think it’s just the dressing.”

His hand on your waist moves slowly, but it’s easy to deduce he’s reaching down and around.

“One of my friends was on your yacht last week and told me how beautiful it was, so when he got an invite I begged him to bring me.”

“That’s your friend?” Andres asks, looking at Deacon.

You turn your head, seeing Deacon with a too-tight grip on a champagne glass and a forced smile. Tipping your head to the right, you signal that you’re okay just before Andres turns so you can’t see Deacon anymore.

“Yes. His wife is one of my best friends and she offered to watch the kids so he could bring me. She gets seasick when she steps foot on a boat, so I guess he decided I was a better date option.”

“You, dear, did not need to prove it, I am sure.”

“He also told me that you might be willing to show me your operation. Like I said, I dress to impress.” You pull yourself closer, looking up at him as you flirt. It makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s necessary.

“Has your friend seen my operation?”

“No. He’s more of a buy it and move on kind of guy, but I find your product, and you, fascinating.”

“Impress you did,” he says quietly, his hands moving to their original positions. “Meet be on the top deck in ten minutes, and we can work something out. Bring your friend’s wallet and we’ll show him exactly what you’re worth.”

You nod, batting your eyelashes as he steps back. Walking toward Deacon, you shake your arms and try to lose the feeling of Andres’s hands on you. Deacon’s jaw is clenched as you walk past him. He follows you behind a pillar, his eyes boring into yours as you reach up and cup his jaw.

“He told me to meet him on the top deck in ten and bring your wallet,” you tell him.

“My wallet?”

“He wants to show you what I’m worth.”

“Trust me, I know exactly what you’re worth,” Deacon says under his breath.

You look to your left, and before Deacon can see what you’re looking at, you rise to your tiptoes and hide your face in Deacon’s neck.

“Drop your head,” you whisper.

His breath fans against your collarbone as his head dips beside yours. You circle your arms around his neck, guarding your faces from passersby. The man you saw approaching walks behind you as Deacon’s arms tighten around your waist. His touch removes the discomfort you felt after dancing with Andres. Trying not to lose yourself in the moment, you reluctantly pull away from Deacon.

“I’ll come to the deck with you,” Deacon says, his hands dropping from your sides.

“You can’t come all the way. He’ll know,” you argue. “Stay close enough to hear me?”

“I’m not letting you face down a drug lord by yourself.”

“I’ll be okay. I know I’m not alone with you nearby.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You wander around the top deck, close to the staircase where Deacon is hiding.

“There she is,” Andres announces, spreading his arms as he approaches you. “Did you bring it?”

You flash a fake credit card and an overly flirty smile. “Yes, I did.”

“Perfect. We’ll go to my,” he brushes a finger over your cheekbone before finishing, “private area, below deck.”

His hand moves down, over your arm, and to your hip. He’s nearing your gun, and you rush to grab his wrist.

“Is that where you keep everything? Below deck?” you ask.

He looks over at an armed security guard before speaking. “Everything, yes.”

Your arm twists as he jerks his hand, pulling you close harshly.

“There you are!” Deacon exclaims as he walks onto the deck.

Andres shoves you sideways as his guard aims his gun at you.

“What’s going on?” Deacon asks.

“Something private. So maybe you should go,” Andres spits angrily.

“Maybe we should both go, yeah?” Deacon asks, raising a hand toward you. “We haven’t seen anything, we’ll stay quiet.”

“You won’t see anything. Get him out of here.”

Another guard barges onto the deck behind Deacon, and you pull your gun out of its holster, firing a shot before Deacon has time to turn around. The man groans as he hits the deck, cradling his arm against his chest. You move your gun to Andres as Deacon covers the other guard.

“You’re out of time,” Andres threatens. “More men are coming.”

“Yeah,” Deacon replies with a smile. “I know.”

A helicopter approaches, and Luca and Tan prepare to drop onto the yacht as it passes overhead.

“We got ‘em,” Luca tells Deacon. “Get back in there.”

Deacon grabs your arm gently, pulling you into the stairwell as he leads you below deck. You run into a locked door and turn toward Deacon.

“This has to be it,” you say.

He pushes against the door and freezes as footsteps descend, nearing you quickly. You look at Deacon and apologize before shoving him against the wall opposite the locked door. You pull yourself up and kiss him, deaf to the footsteps as boots scrape to a stop.

“Uh,” someone says, clearing their throat, “this is a private area, no guests are allowed on this level.”

Deacon gently pushes your hips back as you separate from him. He wraps an arm around your waist, giving an easy smile to the guard blocking the stairs.

“Sorry, man, but you know how it is,” he says.

The guard looks you up and down, ignorant of Deacon’s grip tightening on you as he rumbles, “I sure do.”

“So, we’ll just get out of your way and go back up.”

The guard raises a hand, stopping Deacon as his eyes remain on you.

“You head up, I need to ask her a few questions.”

“Not happening.”

You look at the guard and press a hand between Deacon’s shoulders. “Unless you answer a question for me first. Right, handsome?”

Deacon looks at you from the corner of his eyes, warning you not to do this.

“Any question,” you add. “And you have to tell the truth.”

“Deal,” the guard agrees quickly.

“Are there drugs in that room?”

He hesitates, then nods once.

“Move in,” Deacon says, his smile growing as you both step back.

“Don’t move,” you tell the guard. “LAPD S.W.A.T. You’re under arrest.”

The guard hesitates, then sighs and lowers his weapon before kicking it to Deacon.

“They’re always too good to be true,” he mumbles.

You hear yelling and footsteps as your team and the Metro squad enter the boat, breaking up the party. Hondo appears behind the guard with the Metro sergeant from earlier.

“This is why we chose you instead of a UC,” the sergeant says, winking at you.

“That was quite the kiss,” Hondo teases, pulling you into his side.

Deacon pulls you back into his arms as you ask, “Cameras?”

“Everywhere,” Hondo says. “There isn’t an inch of this place that isn’t covered.”

“Wish I’d known that before I went for my gun,” you mumble.

“Ready to get out of here?” Hondo asks as the guard is hauled away in handcuffs.

“Yes,” you and Deacon sigh together.

✯✯✯✯✯

Back at S.W.A.T. HQ, you change quickly and sit in the locker room, your head in your hands as you wonder if you and Deacon should talk about the kiss. It was just for work, but it felt like more. Maybe that’s just your heart talking, though.

“Hey,” Deacon says as he enters.

You look up, smiling when you see him. “Hi.”

“So…”

“I’m sorry.”

“I- why’d you do it?” Deacon asks, leaning against the lockers beside you.

You keep your eyes away from his face, knowing that if you see him you’ll tell him everything. “It seemed like the right move. We are- were pretending to be a couple, and you know, that’s what couples do. We needed an innocent reason to be there and that’s all I could think of.”

“Were we?” Deacon asks.

You pause, glancing up at him. “Were we what?”

“Pretending,” Deacon answers, turning to sit beside you. “Because that felt really real. All of it, the dancing, the kiss, the touches.”

You fall silent, looking at Deacon’s hand resting beside yours.

“Sorry,” he begins.

“I wanted it to be real,” you admit quietly.

Deacon smiles, and turns your chin toward him. Kissing him the second time is just as magical as the first. He pulls you close, uninhibited in how or why he touches you. Breathless, you pull away but keep your forehead pressed to his.

“What took us so long?” you ask.

“I was wondering the same thing. We should go on a date. One where we don’t have to run for cover or kiss just to stay alive.”

“Your kisses are pretty deadly,” you joke, “they make me breathless and make my heartbeat too fast.”

“Not funny,” Deacon says, chuckling.

“But they also make everything better,” you whisper.

Deacon smiles before kissing you again, a promise to never pretend again. After pretending not to love each other and pretending to be in a different relationship than you were, you both decide that keeping secrets and being someone you aren’t only delays what you really want. Being someone else with Deacon helped you to admit that you’re in love with the real Deacon, just as he loves the real you.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #deacon kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay #requests #fem!reader

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ingravinoveritas · 1 month

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Did you see this picture yet? The first thing I realized was Michael's hand on David's back and their lovely smiles.

Hello! Yes, I did certainly see this group picture that was posted this morning, after every other picture had been posted. This is from Georgia's Insta, so for those who haven't seen the original post, here is a screenshot, along with a close-up of Michael and David, so we can see a little better:

It seems that Georgia's hashtag has been causing some confusion due to her use of an idiomatic expression, so for non-native speakers, the word "tits" has multiple meanings--colloquially, it's another word for breasts, but in British slang, a "tit" also refers to someone who is a fool or an idiot. So Georgia is saying here that she has tits, Anna has tits, and Michael and David are a pair of "tits" (idiots), which gives us the number three.

I did notice and enjoy that there is a "beading" theme to this picture, between David's suit and Anna's dress. I actually very much like her dress and how flattering it is, and it's something I would wear myself, although probably in a different color than white. I also love the way David's jacket sparkles, and there is something about him wearing it while standing next to Michael (who looks one box of bleach away from Aziraphale) that makes it have even more of a "the angel and the Starmaker" vibe to it. Because it's them. You know?

That was a large part of the impression I had of this picture, as it were. Of there being two distinct couples here, but perhaps not the couples you'd assume. It actually reminds me a lot of the picture that the four of them took in Lapland last year, which also looked like two gay couples rather than two straight ones. They all seem to look very comfortable in this arrangement as well, in a way that I felt was somewhat absent from a few of the pictures that were posted yesterday.

To your point, though, I did notice Michael's hand on David, and the warmth that radiated out just from that single touch. His hand is also noticeably low on David's waist, which echoes how we've seen Michael with his arm around David in the past, and is a lovely complement to David's hand being near Michael's neck. Michael's hair is also a bit disheveled compared to the red carpet photos, and I love the idea of it being messed up from a snogging session he and David were having in a coat closet before the girls pulled them out for a pic. Actually possible? Maybe, maybe not. But it's still a delicious thought.

Another thing I noticed is that there is something to the way Michael and David draw the eye in this picture. Georgia and AL are posing/smiling in the same exact way they do in every group picture...although unlike the others, this one wasn't a selfie, and so I wonder if that could be why they seem to be giving off a sense of discomfort to the camera. With Michael and David, the feeling is more one of hesitation. The warmth and crackliness and connection is still there, of course, but it's also almost as if they're holding back, somehow. Which doesn't seem very much like them, at least from what we've all see over the years.

It is a nice picture overall, though, which makes it unfortunate that Georgia's caption sort of takes away from the moment a bit. And given that she's been in the habit of adding these types of cutting comments/tags to a lot of her recent posts, it feels less like "British humor" and more like knowingly taking a dig at Michael and David. She could have just as easily posted the group pic without the hashtag, so at least for me, that's what makes her using it feel so deliberate.

So those are my thoughts on the Oliviers group picture. I am glad that we actually did get one of Michael and David, and to know that they did have the chance to interact at the event. I'd love to hear what other folks think as well, so feel free to add your perspective in the comments. Thanks for writing in! x

#analumina #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #georgia tennant #olivier awards #it's also interesting that Michael feels like the buffer between one side of this picture and the other #to where it doesn't feel like a group picture but two pictures taken separately #and if you can't see the difference between AL/Georgia and Michael/David at this point #i don't even know what to tell you #choices #not all of them good #but i will leave it to my followers to make up their own minds #anna lundberg #relationships #ineffable lovers #discourse

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myyoungroyalsblog · 11 months

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Red, White and Royal Blue fic rec part 2 (part 1)

*Note: I have a lot of unfinished fics in my subscriptions but since there are over 120+ fics there from other fandoms too I won’t be able to add those, when they are finished I’ll do another post in the future!

*Also couldn't find some of these writers here on tumblr, if you know tell me and I’ll add their @ beside it!

MULTI-CHAPTER

Things I Cannot Accept

18 chapters, 69.703 words

By @sprigsofviolets AU where Ellen lost the election in 2016 and Henry and Alex reconnect in 2019. Super cute and interesting story, with a lot of fluff and angst, amazingly written!

Captious (calculated to confuse, entrap or entangle in argument)

3 chapters, 14.256 words

Blind date AU... Well... Sort of... You'll know when you read it hehe but honestly so so sweet with a bit of angst but so much fluff!

My Only Wish (This Year)

7 chapters, 26.374 words

By @dracowillhearaboutthis AU where Henry marries a woman and has two daughters, set 10 years later and Alex and Henry reconnect, and maybe a romance blooms... Of course it does lol very cute kid fic (with a bit of angst too) but still lots of fluff!

Comfort Crowd

8 chapters, 12.098 words

To all the boys I've loved before AU, I don't like the film but since I'm such a sucker for these two of course I read it and got obsessed with it afajsgshsvsg

And they call it—

2 chapters, 10.148 words

By @clottedcreamfudge AU where Alex can talk to animals, so when Henry needs a dog sitter he goes to Alex, and he and David obviously talk about Henry. So funny and fluffy, guaranteed to make you smile!

(do i really have to tell you) how he brought me back to life?

7 chapters, 38.498 words

By @coffeecatsme High school AU where Henry gets kicked out by Mary and lives with Alex's family. A whole lot of angst and a whole lot of fluff, just a superb story!

I'm Taking A Ride With My Best Friend

23 chapters, 79.302 words

By @cultofsappho The Last of Us AU where Henry is immune and Alex helps him get to the fireflies in hopes to create a vaccine. If you've watched the tv show or played the game, you know how this goes lol could not recommend it enough, so much angsty but has fluffy moments too! And the writing is impeccable

i'd lie

6 chapters, 18.058 words

AU where Alex and June move to England with thier mum and have the Fox family as their neighbours, we see the super six throughout the years and how Henry lies might not work anymore... If you want angst, this is the fic for you

ONE SHOT

talk too much

3.307 words

By @lazybug16 Alex has his wisdom teeth removed and Henry takes care of him, just fluff fluff fluff, super adorable (yes self promo because I'm very proud of this fic, I love it)

I trace your constellations

13.498 words

Soulmates, coffee shops and demi Henry AU, just pure flirting and fluff, suuuuuuper cute read!

Never Truly Leave

2.443 words

By @clottedcreamfudge Catherine finds a letter that Arthur wrote... To Alex. We cry alongside Alex as he reads it; very emotional, it will make you cry, and fall in love with these characters all over again, could not recommend enough

you knew the entire time (you knew that i'm a mastermind)

8.239 words

By @coffeecatsme Uni and autistic Henry AU, we see Alex and Henry fall in love. Fluffy but also a bit of angst, you just want to protect Henry and tell him everything is going to be okay

starry eyes sparking up my darkest nights

16.367 words

By @coffeecatsme Hugh school AU where Arthur is also alive and becomes like a second father to Alex. Very very sweet with a bit if angst as well, you'll love it and might have a few happy tears towards the end

learning to love (without it having to hurt)

4.861 words

AU where they aren't famous and they are roommates. We see Henry figure out his asexuality and Alex be there for him, and them getting together of course :) very very sweet read!

The last letter

2.173 words

By @floatingaway4 They are in the afterlife, at peace. This weiter managed to combine angst and fluff at the exact same time and I don't know how they did it, it will make you ugly happy cry!

Fourty-Four Days

8.675 words

They are living in the Brownstone when Henry needs to go to europe for the shelters and Alex to California for a campaign, and they end up not seeing each other for 44 days, and it's too much. Angsty but then fluffy, it just hurts seeing them miss each other so so much

take me out, and take me home

11.837 words

Roommates AU and we see Alex get some feelings, only friendly feelings of course... Really cute story and ending!

i’d take the bomb in your head and disarm it

22.392 words

By @evanbuvkley roommates AU and friends to angsty friends to lovers afahsgsjshdj so much angst that you might cry but a bit of fluff too (happy ending don't worry) such an engaging story, very well executed

and I wrote down our song

6.072 words

AU where Alex is a musician and Henry isn't a prince and they meet at a bar where Alex is performing. Super cute and we see how they fall in love and grow and it's just full of joy!

Group therapy

3.243 words

By @stutteringpeach AU where Ellen is Henrys therapist and he is dating Alex and talks to Ellen about their relationship, without knowing that it's actually his boyfriends mum... They "meet" at a family cook out and its honestly hilarious lmao you will not stop laughing

#I made this draft on this blog cause I started it before I made my rwrb blog lol #rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb fic #red white and royal blue fic #firstprince #mine #queue

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marxistcomedy · 8 months

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Anyone working in counter-propaganda can testify to a curious experience: we’ll put in hours of careful research collecting an impeccable set of resources that undermines some warmongering narrative, and we’ll eagerly share it with someone who claims to despise racism in all its forms — say, an outspoken opponent of the West’s so-called “War on Terror.” Unexpectedly, we are met with a response that is somewhere between chilly reticence and downright hostility. What’s going on?

From our perspective, we’re offering water to a person who’s self-identified as thirsty, and yet they react as if we were trying to poison them! They turn on a dime to defend the same institutions whose lies they were denouncing just moments before. At this point the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes from seeing through propaganda and putting puzzle pieces together into a satisfying historical account gets brutally transformed into its exact opposite: a sense of crushing defeat. In response to this bitter experience, many researchers — serious people, with plenty of experience reading and writing, and sometimes even of being published! — lash out. They decide that people have been “brainwashed” beyond the point where they can be reached by words or rational appeal. They “realize” that the masters of propaganda have been far more successful than we first imagined: it turns out we’re not David fighting Goliath, we’re more like an ant facing an asteroid.

The same inquisitive nature that first led them to unravel war propaganda narratives begins to feed an even larger psycho-historical narrative, and nihilism takes hold. The tragic cycle begins to appear eternal: innocent, well-meaning, hard-working folks are, time and again, viciously tricked by the scapegoating of a new rogue in the gallery — Indigenous, Black, Spanish, Jewish, Soviet, Vietnamese, Cuban, Serbian, Muslim, Libyan, Syrian, Korean, Venezuelan, Russian, Chinese. Due to the sheer power of propaganda and mass-media, the masses helplessly fall for hatred and volunteer for war, even though it comes at a very high cost to ourselves, our loved ones, and our ideals (religion, environmentalism, etc.). Sadly, the innate human propensity to “hate the Other” seals our fate as a society… or something along those lines.

I am going to argue that this narrative is nonsense. It tries to pass off as universal and eternal something that in reality is particular and ephemeral. In short: Westerners aren’t helpless innocents whose minds are injected with atrocity propaganda, science fiction-style; they’re generally smug bourgeois proletarians who intelligently seek out as much racist propaganda as they can get their hands on. This is because it fundamentally makes them feel better about who they are and how they live. The psychic and material costs are rationally worth the benefits. As for those anti-imperialists who don’t participate in this festival of xenophobia — and here I include myself — we have our own elitist consolation: we accept the tragedy of masses of gullible sheeple falling for cunning propaganda because having overcome it flatters our own intelligence. The more we condemn society’s stupidity, the smarter we feel in comparison.

But am I not just worsening the problem, aggravating our hopelessness, by criticizing the critics in a way that suggests that no one escapes ideological self-flattery? I don’t think so. Paradoxically, it brings us all back to a more even and possibility-rich playing field.

The prevailing populist narrative grants the People (of the West) moral innocence by attributing to them utter stupidity and naivety; I invert the equation and demand a Marxist narrative instead: Westerners are willingly complicit in crimes because they instinctively and correctly understand that they benefit as a class (as a global bourgeois proletariat) from the exploitation enabled by their military and their propaganda (in Gramscian: organs of coercion and consent). We’re not as stupid as we’re made out to be. This means that we can be reasoned with, that there is a way out.

[emphasis mine]

#very necessary read rn imo #red sails #roderic day

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slasher-male-wife · 2 months

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Bleach: David TLB x GN! reader

This is a little something I've been working on. I want to try and write more regularly but I've been pretty busy trying to balance everything in my life. But I found the time to write this for y'all so I hope that y'all enjoy it.

Content included: Brief mention of smoking, shorter, around 850 words

“I can’t believe that you’ve been doing this for as long as you have been.” You say draping an old, raggedy, heavily bleach stained towel over David’s shoulders. He chuckles and takes a drag of his cigarette. “I swear you’re so high maintenance sometimes.” You say in a teasing tone, picking up your rubber gloves and snapping them on. David blows out the smoke and crushes out his cigarette on a rock nearby.

“Well at least now I have someone competent to help me. Apparently it takes three vampires to decently bleach my hair.” He says in a sarcastic tone. David has that iconic bleach blonde look. He already has that naturally blonde hair but he likes his to be platinum, so you have to use a volume 15 bleach to get it at the perfect tone. He has a system he’s described to you. Every six weeks he cuts his hair and bleaches it with volume 15 bleach for 18 minutes on the dot. Now that used to take an entire day with the three other goobers running around here, but now it’s just you and him in the cave.

“When did you even start to do this? I thought hair bleach was only invented in like 1920 or something.” You say, picking up the bowl of bleach as you start to mix it with the brush.

“It was invented in 1950, I was there when it first hit the shelves. But before that I just used hydrogen peroxide, which wasn’t as effective as this stuff is now. I remember this one actress from the 30’s who was a bottle blonde, I think she coined the term 'platinum blonde’. Too bad I can’t remember her name.” He says, tilting his head back and looking over at you.

You roll your eyes and turn his head back forwards as you pick up some of the bleach on the brush and you start to apply it to his head, first the back then towards the front, the same every time.

“Well I’ll have to go find out who she is so I know who gave you the idea to start doing your hair like this.” You say as you start to apply the bleach to his roots, you’d use hair foils if you had enough time to go buy them at the beauty supply store, but of course Paul got impatient while waiting for you to buy the bleach itself. “How do you feel about Billy Idol stealing your look? Or did you steal his?” You ask in a joking tone, turning his head slightly to apply the bleach on the sides of his head. David chuckles too before he replies.

“I’ve been bleaching my hair since before his great grandparents were born. But I did take up the mullet after him.” He says, smiling to himself as you finish up on his left side and you move over to the right side. “How’s it looking?” He asks. You pick up a hand held mirror for a moment before you remember vampires can’t see themselves in mirrors and you laugh.

“It’s looking good so far. You’re lucky you don’t have super thick hair or you’d be here all night.” You say, picking up more bleach before you apply it to his hair. You’ve got the amount you use down to an exact measurement. By the time you’re done with his hair there’s barely bleach if any left in the bowl.

“Where’d you even get these skills? I don’t think you’ve told me the stories behind it yet.” He says, looking back at you again before you turn his head straight again and you go back to bleaching his hair.

“I’ve been dying hair since I was 12. Being a weirdo and being friends with weirdos does that to a person.” You say, focusing your attention now on the top of his hair, picking up more bleach on the brush before you start applying it to his hair. “I quickly learned to wear gloves after staining my hands blue while dying my friend's hair black. I’ve also learned that purple fades the fastest and red lasts forever. I also have a color wheel I bought at a garage sale when I was 15 just so I remember that for when I’m dying hair.”

David chuckles and taps his fingers on his thigh. “Well I’m glad your hair dying skills haven’t gone to waste just yet.” He smiles to himself before he speaks again. “You could go to a cosmetology school. I mean you could make money off of dying people's hair.” You laugh and shake your head.

“I don’t think that cosmetology schools are ever really open at night.” You say, scraping up the last bits of bleach from the bowl and finishing off the top of his hair. You pick up a small timer and you set it for 18 minutes. “Besides, I’d much rather get my money pickpocketing people like the rest of y’all do.” You say in a bit of a joking tone as David chuckles with you.

#david tlb #david x reader #david the lost boys #david tlb x reader

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astrojulia · 1 year

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Explaining the Aspects

A very important part of everything in astrology (predictive astrology, natal charts, synastry…) is knowing how aspects work.

There are two ways to explain each one of them, the more formal one which is what you see in books and the one with analogies. I like to do both because it's hard to make something stick in my head, LOL. So let's go.

What is an aspect?

Okay, so now let's finally talk about what all these astrological aspects really mean. Basically, the aspects are like the different vibes and energies that flow between the planets, which represent different parts of your personality. So, depending on which planets are in aspect with each other, you might feel more stressed out or more at peace in different areas of your life.

It's kind of like a map of your inner world, and the different angles and shapes that the planets form can either create a sense of harmony or tension. The way that these energies interact can really affect your personality and how you feel day-to-day. So, if you've got a lot of planets aspecting with each other, you might feel those influences more strongly than if they were just hanging out on their own.

There are several aspects, but the ones I use and the ones that are most seen are: Conjunction, Sextile, Square, Trine and Opposition. What about the others you may say, well, I don't work with them, so I am not going to dive in about something I am horrible not good at.

Conjunction

Basically, a conjunction happens when two planets are in the exact same spot on your astrological chart - we're talking zero degrees here, people. Typically, people say that an orb of eight degrees on either side is what counts for a conjunction, so there's about a sixteen-degree arc where these planets can be hanging out together.

When planets are conjunct, it means that the parts of your personality that these planets represent are getting super cozy with each other. The quality of this connection really depends on which planets are involved - if it's two inner planets, you're probably looking at a pretty chill and harmonious situation. But if it's a mix of different kinds of planets (like mental and emotional), you might get some tension going on.

If the Sun is involved in a conjunction, it's going to make the planet it's conjuncting even more powerful. And if the Moon is involved, it's going to bring out the subconscious influence of that planet in your psyche.

Now, when we start talking about outer planets, things can get a little tricky. Depending on how your psyche is set up, a conjunction between outer planets can either be super harmonious or super stressful. And let's be real, most people find the energies of outer planets to be pretty difficult to deal with.

Even calculated points like the Ascendant and Midheaven can get in on the conjunction party, and they tend to take on the flavor of whatever planet they're conjuncting. So, if you've got a planet conjuncting your Ascendant, that planet's influence is going to be even more magnified in your personality.

In other words, conjunction is when two planets will work on the same issue in their company, and depending on the planets the work environment will be good or bad.

Sextile

The sextile is like two planets giving each other a friendly high-five from a distance of sixty (60) degrees apart. It creates a hexagram and a Star of David shape on the astrological chart. Basically, if two planets are within twelve (12) degrees of each other, they're sextiling. It's considered a good vibe kind of aspect, like the universe is giving you a little helping hand. It's all about opportunities and being able to make the most of them.

When planets are sextiling, it's like they're saying, "Hey, let me help you out, bro!" or "Yo, I've got a great idea, let's work together!" They complement each other and bring out the best in one another. For example, when a fiery planet is sextiling an airy planet, it's like they're two peas in a pod. Similarly, when an earthy planet is sextiling a watery planet, they just get each other.

But, like everything in life, there can be downsides to the sextile. If you ignore the opportunities presented by the sextile, you might miss out on some great stuff. If you pursue them too hard, you could end up stepping on other people's toes. If things come too easily to you, you might start taking them for granted. And if you're not careful, you might let greed and selfishness get in the way of your personal growth. So, remember to stay humble and grateful, and take advantage of the good vibes when they come your way!

In other words, the planets support each other here: it’s a collaboration no matter the company sector they work for. If one is making a mistake, the other will rectify it and not complain; if something is wrong it will provide support and not critique. For example, if your Pluto is in sextile to Jupiter, you will feel quite powerful while you’re feeling lucky, but if you play too much, you will recall that you need to be more serious and reserved.

Square

It's what happens when two planets are 90 degrees apart from each other. Usually, there's an orb of about 8 degrees in either direction, so the square can happen for about 16 degrees total. This divides the circle into quarters and makes a square shape within it.

The thing about the square is that it's all about conflict and confrontation. It's like two cars crashing into each other or one car smashing into the side of another. The right angle means there's a lot of resistance and neither planet can easily budge the other. So, it's not exactly a happy-go-lucky kind of aspect - it's considered a tough one.

Basically, the square represents different parts of your mind that are fighting with each other. And if you're not dealing with those inner struggles, you might end up projecting them outward and causing conflicts with others. The planets involved in a square are usually in elements that don't mix well, like Earth and Fire, Fire and Water, Water and Air, or Air and Earth. So, it's hard to find common ground and make peace.

But hey, don't despair! Even though squares are traditionally seen as bad news, some astrologers think they can be good for you. The tension and conflict represented by the square can help you grow and develop. It forces you to overcome obstacles and learn how to deal with difficult situations. So, even though it might not be easy, it could be just what you need to become a stronger, better version of yourself. And, honestly, a chart without any squares might mean you're not being challenged enough to really reach your full potential.

In other words, when the planets are subtracting each other. They go to the desktop and refuse to look each other in the eyes. They will not cooperate when it comes to working together. So if you have Jupiter in the 10th house and Mars in the 1st house, when talking about career you can see your Mars as your eternal front neighbor who sells exactly the same thing as you, you can help each other… but it will need A LOT of maturity.

Trine

Hey, so the trine is formed when two planets are separated by 120 degrees. It's considered a chill and harmonious aspect, and can be represented by an equilateral triangle within the horoscope circle. Basically, everything is balanced and the vibes are good. The energy between the planets flows easily and functions associated with those planets tend to work well together.

If you have a trine in your chart, you might find yourself feeling happy and content with its trine subject. However, there are some risks associated with the trine. If one or both of the planets are difficult for you to work with, the trine can actually amplify that difficulty. Also, because everything seems so easy, you might become too complacent or unprepared for life's challenges.

On the upside, the trine can help raise your consciousness and connect you with your spiritual side. There's also something called a grand trine, which is even more awesome because it involves three planets in trine with one another, creating a circular flow of harmonious energy. All in all, the trine is a pretty sweet aspect in astrology.

In other words, the planets add up and it can be both useful and dangerous. A trine in earth house (2nd,6th and 10th), might generate an obsession with these themes, making the native anxious, as well give the native skills that can make it shine in several fields.

Opposition

So, basically, when two planets are opposite each other at a distance of 180 degrees, it's called an opposition. This means that the functions represented by those planets work in opposite directions and can often lead to conflict. However, the conflict associated with an opposition is generally more easily resolvable than that associated with a square.

The key to resolving the conflict of an opposition is to realize that the duality between the two functions is just an illusion. Both sides of the opposition actually share common qualities and complement each other. By finding this common ground, opposition can be transformed into cooperation and harmony, leading to strength and wholeness.

However, if the conflict is left unresolved, it can lead to confusion, dilemma, and ongoing conflict. To protect itself from the discomfort of the conflict, the ego may adopt one of three defense mechanisms: siding with one end of the opposition, suppressing one side of the opposition, or projecting the qualities of one of the opposed functions onto someone or something else.

Eventually, though, the subconscious mind will create circumstances that force the ego to confront the conflict of the opposition. So it's better to face the conflict head-on and work towards finding common ground and cooperation rather than avoiding it altogether.

In other words, the planets will argue A LOT, but remember that not every discussion is bad, there’s discussions that’re for improvement, like debates.. but this is always an exhaustive process. When you use energy from your Moon that’s in opposition to your Mercury, both your emotional and rational will get tired because the two worked, even on opposite sides.

Sources

[15] SERVANTOFTHEFATES. Disponível em: https://servantofthefates.tumblr.com/. Acesso em: 29 de mar. de 2023.

Art: Spin@書籍発売！

[7] GARGATHOLIL. Depth Astrology: An Astrological Handbook - Volume 1: Introduction. Smashwords Edition, 2014.

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