#but this is more me getting thoughts into the world than creative work that I feel comfortable charging anyone to read

[punkpandapatrixk]

🧝🏻‍♀️Mystical Glow-Up Secrets ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

Your mystical glow-up is literally divinely ordained, no cap HAHAH I’ve got this vibe from the deck-bottom but let me start with this quote:

'A Humanity that thinks materialistically will produce frightful beings in the future, and a Humanity that thinks spiritual thoughts, will work upon and transform the future organism so that beautiful Human bodies will proceed from it.' – Rudolf Steiner

Oh, gosh.

We are in an era of spiritual consciousness. This is an era where we learn to reflect outwardly what it means to be a 5D-Consciousness Being. Living in a 5D consciousness, people naturally feel lighter, freer, younger, prettier, healthier, more fit, more stress-free, more energetic; all because people's whole vibrations are 'triggered' by a more spiritual ae-nergy.

ae is known as chi or prana or orgone in other languages; by synchronizing with your ae, ever so organically your body learns to derive vital energy from a purer source of consciousness—a high vibration of aetheric authenticity—that reflects in the physical world as a glow-up of the highest divine order~♥︎

As your Mind comes into alignment with the ae of your Spirit, so your Body becomes attuned to that Order. The significance of ae will only grow as more people come into a spiritual kind of liberation from the chains of insecurity propagated by the monsters in the media and politics.

No matter what the propaganda of the moment may say and try to do, you could always be the conscious individual that distils information and derives from this process only the essence of what is good for you on a personal level. If you’re happy, satisfied, confident and proud with your intelligent conscious choices, that spark of contentment is what truly makes a person glow from the inside out~★

education: Body Care and Grooming (1948)

technomagy: Facial Symmetry with Muscle Toning (Energetic Programmed Audio) by Sapien Medicine

deck-bottom: XX Judgement Rx, Silver Historian (Polydore Vergil), Priestess of Beauty

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – As You Mend Your Heart, Babe, All of You Gets Beautiful Again

assistance: what is coming is 100000x better than what is gone by doyouflow

what’s been taken from you? – 9 of Wands

Although this is a 9 of Wands card, I see that the entirety of your Pile is water-based. You’re someone whose heart is very pure and kind, and you’ve sacrificed a lot of yourself for being there for others. I’m hearing: ‘for a pessimist I was pretty optimistic, and I got nothing—NOTHING—but betrayal and abandonment, and I am exhausted.’ Being charitable around the wrong fucker can surely drain our spiritual aenergy!

You’ve been through multiple cycles of ‘exhausting’ friendships with people who couldn’t appreciate you for the delicate human that you are. They only saw you as this fiery, strong, charismatic capable individual who always managed to whip up a positive attitude in any circumstances. It never occurred to them—not that they’d care to wonder anyway—that maybe this time around you’re the one needing a hug.

Nobody cared; and even the ones who pretended to care, only wanted to know what your gloominess was all about. And they went on to talk shit behind your back and had a good laugh about it. ‘MU HA HA HA, turns out Y/N ain’t even that shit! Y/N is pretty pathetic/loser/crazy BU HA HA HA HA!!!’ Funny thing is, you always knew about their shit one way or another and the whole revelation broke your heart to pieces. Multiple times with different people… tsk tsk…

recalling fragments of your beauty – 9 of Cups

Well, now, I can see you’ve lost a lot of these ‘friends’ and worked on yourself to create new neural pathways towards a truer sense of spiritual abundance. I’m sure right now your Life is pretty OK in areas like finance and material security; your job or creative project is going swimmingly; you have a pretty good work-life balance; and for the most part you’re really enjoying the peacefulness of your solitary Life.

But if there’s one thing, I think you haven’t had a really good conversation with someone interesting in a pretty long time. I see that your eyes have not twinkled from being complimented by someone genuinely kind in a really long while. You’ve lost a lot of your affection for people and you’ve lost faith in being energetic and social. People always disappoint in the end because their hearts are ugly and they’re mean to each other. This deep-seated belief has caused your eyes to look dead and droopy.

Have you perhaps noticed that you’ve developed a set of sanpaku eyes? The minimalistic science behind it states that people could develop sanpaku eyes after going through a lot—like a FUCKTON—of heartache and disappointments. I think your case could be dealing with some kind of a ‘betrayal trauma’ or some variety of ‘injustice trauma’. Look ‘em up, babe~ ♥︎

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – Knight of Cups

If some years have passed now since the last time you were around your fake friends, or even frenemies, I want you to know that your beauty has not been lost to time or ageing. Nope. Not at all. That’s bullshit. I can see that you’re the type of person who ages very UNNATURALLY. If your natal chart has a lot of Water aenergies or you have strong placements in Water Houses, you’re defo the type of bitch that can TRANSFORM your physical appearance by sheer mood ;D At this point, you can’t even age coz that skin barrier is strong AF LMAO

THAT’S WHY! Your true mystical glow-up secret lies in your mending your pretty Heart~ You’ve never had an ugly Heart, obviously, and still now it’s not ugly or anything; but it’s the way you think about how deserving you are of a friendship or relationship that honours your complex sensitivity that needs to be acknowledged and RECLAIMED. Doesn’t matter how, doesn’t matter when or who’s coming next, I just want you to know that if this reading has popped in to your Life… Your Soulmates are coming to get you, bitch. Pack up and play in the sea! XD

The good times that you’re going to be having with your Soulmates, Soul Tribes, Soul Fam—however you may resonate—are going to refill the stars in your Heart, automatically reflected in your eyes~ ★_★v Hahah I promise you that you’re going to reunite with Souls who are very, very old friends with you. You’re going to live a very happy, passionate Life doing things you like with people you Love… How the hell do you think that’s not gonna heal all of you and make everything about you beautiful again?😉

Originally, you’re a beautiful bitch. And if you’ve also got some Capricorn/Saturn/10th House placements, it’s very likely you’re ageing backwards! What the hell even is that?? \`★_★`/

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻💙

beauty on the inside – Green Physician (Paracelsus)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – It’s the Passion in Your Heart That Reflects Outwardly Your True Inner Beauty

assistance: I TRUST things aren’t falling apart they are FALLING INTO PLACE by doyouflow

~wah, girl, you really gotta check out the bonus content for this one XP~

what’s been taken from you? – 5 of Cups Rx

Out of all the Piles, you’re the baddest bitch of them all, do you realise that? You’ve got the most unhinged aenergy about you XD You’re a psycho, you know that? You’re generally thought of as either unpredictable or uncontrollable, but you could also be both, unprovoked LMAO People think you’re a problem child, because you’re so gutsy. I’m literally not getting ANYTHING about what’s been taken from you ^_^; Are you sure you still need this PAC? XD

First of all, you literally exist in your own dimension. That’s why people can’t control you. They can’t tame you. You’re a weirdo, a maniac even, who does things your way, plans things according to your vision, and yours alone, for the most part. People think you’re rather selfish but it’s because you’re a girl, right? If you were a man they’d say you’re DRIVEN. And yes! DRIVE that Bentley, bitch! No, DRIVE that Tesla into OUTER SPACE, bitch! You don’t appreciate people telling you what you CAN’T do!

And you don’t like it when people gaslight you about your confidence just because they’re a little bitch. You love being a Supreme Bitch—you’re a girl on a mission; ain’t nobody got the aenergy to listen to nobody’s guilt-tripping. And in that sense, your spirit and psychology have never really been hit by society. Society has never been able to take away anything from you ♡

recalling fragments of your beauty – XIV Temperance Rx

I see that your Beauty has stayed intact for the majority of your Life. It’s not like you’d resonate with having lost fragments of your beauty to years of depression, malnutrition or anything of the sort? Your mindset has remained strong for the majority of your adult Life. You have a strong mentality and this is reflected well in your physical body. A glow-up is easy, as long as you want it. And for the most part, your glow-up is tightly bound to your sense of purpose.

You’ve always known you’re meant for great things. And from a very young age you already worked on your mentality. You REFUSED to be normal, you refused mediocrity. It wasn’t a walk in the park until you reached your conviction though. Your childhood was rather constrictive, either due to societal expectations…or familial expectations. The adults around you thought you didn’t notice but you saw all of these fences put around you, and they pissed you off. Even your peers couldn’t understand what you wanted to make out of yourself.

So you rebelled from a very young age. You were, yes, THEE problem child, only because the small-minded people around you were a problem to your goals! Such hindrance. And now you’re glowing up and grabbing all the money bags and they jealous? Are you even fucking kidding my butt? Your path towards a total glow-up of your mindset and real life was not always perfect, but what’s perfection? All of the struggles play into creating your lore👑

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – 2 of Cups

If you’ve never heard anybody tell you this, allow me to be the first. Your drive, your determination, your ambition and motivation, although these qualities may make you appear like a selfish bitch on the outside, I, ME, MYSELF, understand that you want these things not only for yourself. There are people in this world you want to protect and provide for. Maybe it’s your mother who was abused or left by her deadbeat husband, idk. Maybe it’s a sibling or a pet you want to give the best Life for, idk.

Maybe, you want to achieve success and fame and be seen by the world, because you want to save the world from the malady of its own crazy, idk~ You want to be an example, a healing presence, a voice of reason, a voice for the voiceless, idk? You may look a certain bitchy, scary way on the outside, but your heart is good; it’s PURE GOLD. You live for the betterment of someone else and if that’s not LOVE, what is?

What most people don’t understand about you is how your sparkle of beauty literally comes from this desire to protect and provide for someone other than yourself. You have a lot of Love in your heart, even if you don’t always admit it to yourself. Your entire Life, your glow-up has come from your being DRIVEN. Vroom vroom, MOTHERFUCKER .・°☆~ You leave a trail of stardust for your aenemies ♥︎

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻💛

beauty on the inside – Green Alchemist (Nicolas Flamel)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Patience

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – When Your Existence is Useful to the Healing of Others, Their Love/Gratitude Nurtures You Back to Health

assistance: you get to be universes favorite by doyouflow

what’s been taken from you? – Page of Cups Rx

See, it’s crazy that literally a few mins before starting on you, Pile 3, I came across a quote that says this:

‘Some of us are such advanced Souls that we did not come here to be supported, but we came to be the support system for many. If you’ve had a challenging Life and feel you never had proper support or Love, that is because YOU are the Love and Support.’

Well, my heart broke, but…hey, there’s clarity and validation there😊

All of these cards are in reverse, telling me there’s a lot that’s been taken from you. Your heart, compassion, resources, money, hobby items, OMG, the list is endless! So much has been taken away from you. Either by people borrowing stuff without remembering to return or people getting a favour without returning it to you. At least, even when it seemed like they did return some favour to you…the return was either lacklustre or just…it didn’t feel right?

You’ve felt gaslit too much your entire Life. An incessant feeling of being unseen, unappreciated, unloved, could’ve eaten away at your self-worth. You’ve often been the miracle in someone else’s Life, but when it comes to you needing a transformation in your Life, where’s MY miracle…? I think you could have Chiron in 12th House or Pisces? That kind of placement is one where an individual constantly feels like they’ve been forsaken by God, or the positive forces of the Universe…

recalling fragments of your beauty – 3 of Pentacles Rx

The truth of the matter is, you’ve not been forsaken by your Spirit Guides. See, this message is gonna be especially resonant for you who do have Chiron or Saturn in the 8th or 12th House—that the Universe, your Higher Self and Spirit Guides have given you so little guidance and support, because you’re meant to learn how it feels like to be in the shoes of Humans. See, it’s not to say these Humans do not have support—babe, they CAN’T access the support because they’re BLIND and DEAF AS FUCK.

Humans are so embarrassingly divorced from their own intuition. Even the most religious folks are blind and deaf to actual angelic whispers. In many cases, because their false religions have taught them to worship wrongly and be obedient to evil authority and not question any injustice and wrongdoings. The more blindly religious a person is, the more separated they are from their own Humanity, because now their ears are deaf to empathy.

You came into this world to understand the twists and turns of how it feels like to navigate this crazy Matrix with so little guidance, so that one day, when you’re propelled into your main mission, you can remind and even teach people how to re-connect with Love—the true source of all compassion and Divinity in Human Form. When you remind people of their Humanity, you regain, and grow exponentially in Beauty ♥︎

sealing the deal with the Divine Feminine – 6 of Pentacles Rx

So, as you can see, you have a very important spiritual mission in this incarnation. I do not give a goddamn dime what you think you look like; whether or not you‘re conventionally attractive; whether or not you fit some bullshit beauty standards; YOU ARE FUCKING BEAUTIFUL when you’re seen sharing your healing gifts with the world! You do remember that a lot of historians say Cleopatra wasn’t perceived as necessarily that conventionally beautiful by most people, right? But that everybody was charmed by her intelligence and charisma when talking about politics?

Yeah, you give me that vibe, bitch <3 That the essence of what you do to alleviate sorrow in the world, when seen by others, when people listen to what you say, when what you do or write changes people’s lives for the better, when people feel motivated by your sheer aenergy to improve themselves—it’s that kinda shit what will help you regain your natural beauty, or manifest a glow-up ☆

When you engage in your Life’s main mission, it’s people’s Love for what you do and the Gratitude they feel for what it’s done in their lives what will aenergetically nurture you back to health. In a nutshell, people’s appreciation for your Life’s Work IS your support system in this world—later on in Life maybe if you haven’t started. It is your Purpose to be useful to the healing of others~ You’re defo gonna have an audience \^_^v Namaste, bitches~★ I honour all that you’ve been through and all that you’re going to do for this world~ You’re so LOVED!!! <3

GODDESS OF BEAUTY🔻🧡

beauty on the inside – Gold Historian (Raphael Holinshed)

beauty on the outside – Priestess of Love

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Part 1] [Part 3]

[Patreon] [Paid Readings]

#Punk Panda Pick A Pic #pick a card #tarot pick a card #pick a card reading #pac #tarot pac #pac reading #tarot #astrology #witchythings #witchblr #tarotblr #astroblr #self development #beauty #glow up #it girl #that girl #confidence #gratitude #spirituality #mindset

[sagittariangirl27]

Pisces new moon tonight. 🌑♓️🦇

#synchronicity #I thought about posting here but didn't really know what #.5 seconds later I scrolled past this #I wish there was a way for me to explain the magic of this world without sounding crazy #I need proof of everything and got dragged into spirituality kicking and screaming #I have always seen myself as more of a logical person than a creative #the last few years have literally been insanity #relearning everything that I ever knew about myself #pulling it all out and picking out the good pieces #there are things I miss about myself so much #and I am grateful to get those parts back while shedding the things that never felt authentic #I have been meeting myself again a lot lately #the craziest thing to me is how fast the years fly by #i don't sleep anymore #I was doing well with that for a while #but I know all of the work I am doing will mean so much #I basically got put in speed mode in my healing journey #it's crazy to look back only months ago and feel like a whole new human being #the moral of the story is I have no idea what I am doing or what is going on #but something is guiding me #and it is the scariest coolest weirdest most terrifying thing #that's the hardest part to keep inside I think #I have to figure out what to do with all of this knowledge #and I still have no fucking idea #it's going to slap me in the face because that's how they do this shit #and then I will be like omg my whole life makes sense #this has happened more times than I can count #a lot of people wonder how the spiritual people suffer so much if they have all of this knowledge #how the fuck do you think we got that? #I have been to hell and back more times than I can count

[amewinterswriting]

On Supporting Artists

We all need to get better about supporting artists. Both on an individual level and a structural level. We are currently living through a time of change - though that is broadly true of any period of history; humans create change as naturally as breathing. But some of the specific changes I see happening now have a lot of potential to radically change how we view, make, and consume art, and it’s up to us to make sure those changes are positive ones.

Read the rest (for free!) over on my Kofi!

#ame talks #support artists #ai fuckery #writing industry #creative industry #just to say: all my essay/blog things are always free on Kofi #if you want to tip it is appreciated #but this is more me getting thoughts into the world than creative work that I feel comfortable charging anyone to read

[abyssalpriest]

the amount of shit that just adds up when you do actual spirit work

#like everything with my ex was vague and just tangentially related #but the amount of stuff in my childhood that directly relates and maps on entirely to the fact that ive worked w hermes + leviathan over #several lifetimes like. yeah i wonder why younger me was fixated on these huge stone pillars and especially the one that was a lightning ro #as if obelisks were something Special and they had some meaning to me i could never begin to address let alone express #and im only now finding out they - are you fucking serious #WELL I JUST FOUND OUT TWO THINGS LMFAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUCK THANKS WIKIPEDIA #i ok. i was ABOUT to say. that oh they were associated with a certain sun god in ancient egypt and theyre like the rays of the sun #which is relevant to Leviathan's solar connections. i was leaving out the fact that it may be MORE relevant than what im saying #bc i asked him what name he was worshiped under in egypt bc hes fucking everywhere and he said ''atem'' and i was like #''oh i know that name. wasnt that the pharaoh in YGO. i loved that dude and that name stuck out to me but i know nothing about the #god bc i dont like ancient egypt stuff (im neutral)'' but i looked up atem at the time and saw he was a sun god and i was like ''damn #did i actually get that across?? Is that you??'' but i left it alone. bc. i dont trust my fucking self. i thought i made it up. but. wiki: #"Atum's name is thought to be derived from the verb tm which means 'to complete' or 'to finish'. Thus #he has been interpreted as being the 'complete one' and also the finisher of the world #which he returns to watery chaos at the end of the creative cycle.'' are. you. fucking. kidding me. #and the fucking Ka thing when thats a word vital to him. i knew that had to be related to the trimurti are you fucking with me #ramblings // #leviathan // #Priest // #ANYWAY I GUESS - fucking rooks cawing outside like its about to rain - I GUESS AS I WAS SAYING SPIRIT WORK GETS FUCKING REAL #this was going to go on my main but it took a fucking turn w the egypt stuff

[thebibliosphere]

I both believe "poor people deserve art" and "artists deserve food", but it's hard to reconcile those beliefs. I blame capitalism. And I suppose it mostly matters who you're stealing from?

I don't mean to question you at all, I'm against people pirating your stories. I guess I was just wondering if you had more thoughts regarding the reconciliation the two beliefs I quoted above.

I think the reconciliation is working toward a future where things are better, and authors and artists don't have to beg people not to steal from them because they think every author is Stephen King, who wouldn't notice if you stole the pennies found under his couch when in reality most of us are hunting for spare change down the back of the couch because we are earning below minimum wage.

We need people to embrace the idea that art belongs to the working class, both in terms of consumption but also creation.

If you don't support the working-class creators, you'll only end up with rich fucks with no scope of the world beyond their own narrow view of privilege.

Indie creators are actually working very hard to change the way the industry works, and the publishing industry is shitting itself over it. They don't like the success some of us are having. It's why they keep upping prices while slashing corners on their own production (while never affecting the man at the top) to try and stay competitive within the rat race they've created.

They're not interested in the proliferation of art. They're not interested in making sure their authors can afford to live. They don't want more diversity. They don't want inclusion. They want profit at whatever the cost.

And while indie creators very much need to get paid because we live in a capitalistic society and everything is burning down around us, and a carton of eggs now costs more than what I earn per hour, our creativity is directly at odds with the type of profiteering big publishers want.

The money should go to the writers. Not the CEOs. The money should go to the workers in the print houses. Not the CEOs. No one needs the kind of wealth these people have. It's obscene. We need direct action against these conglomerates. We need unionization. We need a means to fight back so that we can make art and make it accessible.

So, how do we do that? I don't know. I'm just a very tired, disabled creator doing my best to keep my head above water. But I think getting people to realize that art and books are worth saving up for would be a good start.

That putting money in the pockets of creators is just as important as your own enjoyment of their art. Because if there aren't any artists, you've got nothing.

Getting them involved with their local libraries would also be a great start. Educating them on how the industry works is part of that. The number of people telling me they had no idea libraries paid authors is staggering. And that's intentional. It's a by-product of right-wing propaganda to make you think libraries are worthless and just sap taxpayers' money.

They're not.

If they were, the fash wouldn't be trying so hard to take them away.

Basically, we need working-class solidarity and for certain people on the left to rid themselves of the idea that just because something isn't borne of manual labor, it doesn't have worth. We need the artists and the dreamers as much as we need to bricklayers and the craftsmen. Otherwise, what's the fucking point of it all?

#sorry #this isn't an actionable answer to your question #I don't know what that answer is #I just need people to realize art is not the exclusive creation of the wealthy #and treating it as such is making everything worse

[nothorses]

"the public education system is intently evil and all teachers are abusive because it was the worst experience ever for me personally"

guys, look, I'm legitimately sorry that happened to you. that's fucked up. it shouldn't have happened, and it shouldn't be allowed to happen again to you or anyone else. I'm sorry.

public school was hard for me too, at times, and I'm still suffering the consequences for the harsh grading, the arbitrary deadlines, the hours of completely useless-to-me homework. I could name a few teachers who have been pretty fucking terrible. the fact that nobody considered getting me evaluated for ADHD has had an impact on my self image and academic success that I can't erase.

and also.

I grew up in an area where education, in particular, is incredibly progressive-leaning. educators are working really hard to create and try out education philosophies and practices that prioritize kids and their learning, rather than teachers and what they think kids should learn.

My sex ed was comprehensive, and came entirely from school. My gay sixth grade teacher taught me about HIV/AIDs in a useful, accurate way. In high school, I learned about the way orgasms work & I was prepared not to feel shame for normal stuff.

I learned that Communism was not what the USSR actually practiced, and what it really means. I learned about atrocities and, specifically, the genocide of indigenous people committed in/by the US. I learned about the military industrial complex, the school-to-prison pipeline, and I learned about manifestations of racism specific to my local area. I learned about Stonewall, and the intersection of the civil rights movement with gay rights and disability justice.

My creative writing teacher taught us about LSD, and the real reasons we shouldn't do it, after a hilariously ineffective assembly run by some local cops. He spoke gently, carefully, and emphatically about his friends and his own experiences. Later in the semester, he read us a story he wrote about two gay men finding each other in a deeply homophobic environment.

My sci-fi teacher made me feel safe & seen as a kid with "weird" interests. My US History teacher helped me research and put together a 10-page paper on the modern relevance and mission of Feminism. My government teacher made me feel appreciated for the work I put into the class, and the thought I put into what I said in it, even though he disagreed with a lot of it. My sixth grade teacher bought me books to read with his personal money, whichever ones I asked for. My third grade teacher made me feel safe. My science teacher in middle school made me excited for and passionate about science, and saw and nurtured the effort I put into her class.

A lot of stuff sucks, absolutely. But I am seeing new teaching methods being tried out all the time, and I am watching teachers get really excited when I teach their students about the roots of modern graffiti in US black history & to question property laws, and just...

There's hope. there are so many people doing so much work to make things better. so many people agree with you on what education should be, and are trying so fucking hard to put that into action, and so many public schools- not just teachers, but whole schools and even districts- are really doing that work. so much is getting better.

I had more to say, about necessary childcare and trusted adults and outside contacts and time away from abusive family. But like. Please just sit down and listen to more people on this, and please talk to educators and education professionals about what's really going on in this big huge world of philosophy, science, and practice.

#education

[romanoffsbish]

Method Acting

Scarlett Johansson x F!R

Request | When your friend gives you the leading role in her debut sapphic rom-com you find yourself elated, but then you see who her star-studded casting managed to be and suddenly you aren’t too sure what to do. How does one work with their crush in such intimate ways and not swoon further? | WC: 2,516

Smut: Masturbation (R) — Non-con 👀 (SJ) | Mommy (SJ) | Oral / Fingering (R) | Thigh-Riding (SJ) | Overstimulation (R)

18+ | Minors DNI

"Where'd all that confidence go, hm?" You gulped, not only to remain in character, but because Scarlett was literally hovering over your body and it was like the air around you'd thinned. Your head felt light, but you still managed to stutter out your line, "I-It was a r-ruse."

Bentley chuckled, "You know, I don't think I mind," then she lowered her smirking face into the crook of your neck, your breath dramatically hitched, and you threw your head back to give her the necessary space to leave behind her pale pink gloss for the camera to see.

——

This was meant to be acting, but she wasn't exactly not sucking a partial mark into your skin, fortunately it was hidden from any lens viewpoint, and it only really added to the scene as you moaned out affectedly.

"There you go Raina," she rasped against your cheek, smearing her collected spit and gloss on the skin. "I knew you'd be a perfect little dove for your mommy, you just needed me to help dumb you down, hm..."

You whimpered the title inquisitively, giving off the characters innocent girl aura as her lips clashed into yours, but deep in your soul you wanted to scream it.

Well, for the blonde starlet that is, Scarlett was nothing short of a goddess, her beauty perceivably effortless. It came with many perks, one of those being the ability to have people figuratively crumble before her. You had actually done so physically when you first shook her hand, it was embarrassing and she's teased you since.

When she wasn't teasing you though she was a natural nurturer. There was a calmness she brought to your anxious life that you were going to miss when filming inevitably comes to an end. Which was actually taking place this week, today you were working on the climax.

Bentley, her character, finally had a chance to corner Raina so that she could finally prove her love with the length of her fingers. Up until now your character had been avoiding Bentley as they were forced to see one another at the weekend long reception of a mutual.

Maritza, the director, screenwriter, and best friend of yours wanted the sex to feel real, so she is letting you two feel it out in a set of scenes. Scarlett appreciated the artistic creativity, because she wanted nothing more than to bring you to bliss, even if only fictionally as she knew the cameras were rolling. You genuinely liked the idea of an organic, sapphic scene too, but you just wished it could have been with any other actress.

Not the one you were recklessly falling in love with.

"Cut!" The director called after she felt there was enough tension, and kissing caught for the scene. She was also your very best friend, and knew you were likely spiraling beneath the surface; below Scarlett.

As soon as the director gave you the all clear for the night you took off without even sparing the blonde a glance. Months on this set with her and she'd teased you every step of the way, playing on your obvious crush, the one you'd publicized just a year ago.

"Y/N, who's your celebrity crush?" It was an easy question to answer, and since you were such a newcomer in the acting world it felt harmless to give them one, "Scarlett Johansson, she is just so gorgeous, and that voice of hers is just, ugh, don't even get me started." Or so you thought. Because not even three months later did you find out she'd be playing the love interest in this low-budget, cheesy sapphic rom-com.

The blonde was absolutely ecstatic when she got the script in her email because it came with your name attached. This was your closest friend's script, so you were given the lead without any issues, except for the casting. Without you ever knowing she took a shot in the dark by sending it to the woman who'd grown interested in you the moment she saw you in that interview. When you got the casting news you were mortified, and the blonde used that to her advantage.

There was no denying you meant it when she arrived on set for the chemistry read through, you were a bit of a stuttering mess—true to the character, but it was clear to the blonde that you were just being yourself. Scarlett played the part a bit too well, but she still kept it hidden that she desired you too. Until tonight she'd believed it was never going to go anywhere, but then you moaned in her ear and she realized it had to.

You weren't the only one affected by the small scene.

Scarlett was outside your trailer, her fingers flexed against the chill of the air as she prepared herself to knock on your door. It was Thursday night, normally she would go home, but she knew you were staying on the lot to cut costs so she felt compelled to stop by.

Without an answer she took it upon herself to open the door, noting her worry as the excuse for why she did. When she entered the trailer she was overwhelmed by a heady scent, and as she turned the corner to find you with your hand buried between your legs she'd found the delightful source. Scarlett said nothing as her body leaned against the wall, eyes focused in on the way your puffy lips devoured three of your fingers whole.

"Scarlett..."

The blonde's eyes snapped up to your face, fearing that she'd been caught, but it proved to be the other way around as you moaned her name upon releasing.

"My character's name is Bentley," she cooly teased, startling you into yelping and scrambling to grab the blanket that had bunched up by the end of your bed. Scarlett beat you to it, taking a predatory leap forward so that she could keep you from hiding your body. "None of that baby girl, don't hide from me now."

"S-Scar," you breathlessly muttered her name, or better yet part of it as she cupped your jaw and kissed you into a state of stunned silence. "Let's practice our scene for tomorrow darling, make it extra authentic."

"I-I don't think—." Scarlett slipped her thumb into your mouth, pressing down on your teeth to still you. "Oh, pretty girls like you should never try to think."

When she released her grip on your mouth she'd forcefully pushed you back onto the mattress, making your body bounce and driving your mind into madness all while she slipped out of her sweatsuit. The arousal you'd already felt doubled in intensity, mind alit with the endless possibilities for how this could go. Your mouth slowly filled with saliva as she sauntered closer to you while only dressed in her expensive lingerie set.

"You're so beautiful," you softly acknowledged and she offered you a genuine smile in return. Her lips gently pressed to yours as soon as she climbed over you and you both melted at the touch. "Thank you angel."

Scarlett took her time with kissing you, she didn't even move to deepen it until she felt your slick on her skin.

"I'm going to devour you Raina," she winked playfully and you met her tease with a smile that warmed her heart. "Make my dreams come true then Bentley."

Something about hearing her characters name didn't sit well with her, even if she had started the play on words, joking shoved aside she needed you to know this was more than a over the top scene preparation.

Scarlett pulled your body down the mattress by your ankles, throwing your legs open she took in a big whiff as her nose nuzzled into your plush thigh. "It seems I'll be making both of ours come true," she laboredly breathed against your slick cunt, "Just as long as you know there's no copyright on Scarlett," she winked and husked as your eyes widened, "Scream it for me Y/N."

"Oh Scarlett," you cried as soon as her tongue firmed itself against your folds, a long, drawn out moan left her as she tasted your glorious slick for the first time. The both of you were immensely pleased, your body began to squirm the more you felt your orgasm build. Her arm had to lay against your abdomen to hold you down so that her tongue could lash at you unchecked.

Your pleasure was entirely under her control, and the thought alone had the both of you teetering over the edge, ready to fall further into one another. Scarlett was unsure how that was even possible though, she'd loved you after a month into the filming, on a night when cast and crew rented out the local bar and she actually went regardless of her star power status. It was the only time you'd talked to her so openly, the booze in your system dropped your nerves and you let her hear all of your hometown childhood stories.

There was a twinkle of purity in your eye that she found refreshing that night, but this new glossy look you wore was far more enticing to the blonde starlet.

You looked almost peaceful, but beneath the surface you were absolutely losing your mind. Her masterful tongue was showing your fingers up in real time, your hot slick flowing out of you as if you were a leaking faucet, slowly dripping down from her chin and settling atop of the exposed skin of her bare breasts.

Which only made her move with more efficiency, her tongue slowly curled inside of you, caressing your g-spot as the tip of her nose pressed into your clit and you lost control of your every sense. Gasping for air as pleasure coursed through your trembling form, blurry white stars filled your vision as your eyes crossed and the taste of something metallic coated your tongue as you harshly bit down on your lower lip before you were screaming incoherently, her name sinfully intermixed.

You felt her smirk against your thigh and couldn't help but to smile yourself as you felt her kiss up your body with a softness that transcended all prior carnality. There was this break in the tension as she tenderly locked her lips to yours, tongues dancing around the other as her hands anchored to your chest, fondling the malleable skin as if it was second nature. Soft whines reverberated into her mouth the longer that she played with your sensitive breasts as she kissed you dumb.

Eventually the blonde felt this intense urge to satiate her own body, so she pulled back and you whimpered. "Fuck, you're so hot Y/N," she groaned as she stared at you, so beautifully spaced out, the thin line of spit tethering your lips together snapped as she grinned.

"You know, you're my celebrity crush too," she teased, finding amusement in the way you tried to shimmy away from her, but her hands firmly pressed down, keeping your body stilled by her grip on your breasts.

"Don't try and run now darling," she purred against your neck, her face having dipped down so that she could finish the job she started during your shoot.

"Scar, th-the movie," you warned but she simply didn't care, the woman chuckled against your skin, "Oh love, you know as well as I do that make up can cover this, plus, this is really just us aiding the film, you know?"

Scarlett continued on bruising your soft skin with her teeth as you couldn't, nor did you really want to, find a reason to dissuade her from her current ministrations. Just as soon as she was satisfied with her hard work she flipped you onto your stomach without warning.

A low moan left the both of you as her cunt touched down, your body shivered as her slick smeared onto the back of your thigh, the idea that you'd turned her on that much hadn't even permeated your mind until now and with the physical evidence you felt powerful. Even if she was on top, you aided her by tensing your muscles to which she rewarded you with a hoarse moan and two fingers that slid between your slick lips.

The both of your bodies moved in steamy tandem, your front being pressed further into the mattress with every rough thrust of her fingers and hips. The room soon became a lewd symphony as your skin slapped together and the both of your slick seeped and spread, all working to drown out your soft, choked moans.

With her free hand no longer on your hip you were thrown further into the depths of pleasure as her palm roughly pressed down on your abdomen just as her fingers reached your depth, your body jerked but she just kept going down until she could play with your clit.

"Mommy," you screamed the desired honorific, it almost sounded like a plea for mercy, but the blonde had none to show you, she instead slid a third finger into your core causing you to spasm uncontrollably. Which in turn tensed your muscles up even further, and sent her into a state of immense bliss, her teeth instinctively sunk into your shoulder and drew blood.

Her body had arched back then dropped to the side of yours in a matter of seconds, her fingers stayed buried within your warmth, almost like a place of comfort. It took you far longer than her to regain your composure as this was actually your fifth orgasm of the evening. The other two having happened before she caught you.

Nevertheless, you were able to form a sentence as you felt her fingers vacate your pussy, "W-what was this?"

Scarlett had been shifting to a place of comfort when your disconcerting question was aired, you caught her completely off guard but upon settling her cheek down on your bare ass she hummed softly in thought. Then as she really thought about it, imagining a future where you'd part ways after filming ended, she frowned.

"You're mine," she tiredly growled against the sweaty skin of your ass, her teeth nibbled at the round flesh as she gave you her answer (demand). "Then, now, the point is you'll always be mine Y/N so get comfortable."

"I'm plenty comfortable," you murmured, words a bit muffled as your face burrowed into your silky pillow. Scarlett smiled to herself, her heart officially settled now that she knows you understood; you were hers, this sinful endeavor was her official sealing of a deal.

Her worn down body sidled up by your side, still her strong arm wrapped around your midsection so that she could pull you close enough for her to feel your body against hers. "Goodnight baby girl, I think we've done enough work to ensure the scene will be a hit..."

—

When tomorrow came, and the scene was shot you two found it only took one go as the sexual chemistry was palpable. Maritza had winked, and mouthed a 'your welcome' thinking that you'd just won the blonde over, but unbeknownst to her this was just an encore...

Or as the sapphics would simply call it, round two.

#scarlett johansson #scarlett johansson imagine #scarlett johansson fanfiction #scarlett johansson fic #scarlett johansson fluff #scarlett johansson smut #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x y/n #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x fem!reader #scarlett x reader #scarlett x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine

[faesystem]

As an ambulatory wheelchair user I have so many thoughts about how people draw/write disabled!Scar. This is sort of a guide/insight from a disabled person about writing/drawing disabled people.

Specifically in regards to wheelchair users.

Do not get me wrong, this fandom is genuinely probably the best group of people I have ever seen when it comes to drawing wheelchairs. I do not believe I have ever seen Scar fanart where he is in a completely unusable, horrible, hospital chair. It is so clear people have taken the time and energy to research into wheelchairs and I love it. I am in no way saying stop that.

I just think people could maybe put a little bit more consideration into him being disabled beyond visual appearance.

I saw a really amazing artwork of SL!Scar and he is in a sports chair. Which is really cool, in many ways, as it shows some thought being put into the setting. If I were in combat, I would in fact like to not be knocked from my chair or have my chair tipped over.

Yet, you have very limited mobility in a sports chair. It is, by design, made to prevent you from tipping over. Which means that you are incapable of going over bumps, really, let alone natural terrain.

Just in general, there really is not any wheelchair that exists in our world that would allow wheelchair users to exist in a setting like the life series.

So, I have some ideas:

- Horses. Hands down my biggest suggestion. Especially with Secret Life they fit in very well with the setting, everyone uses them, and it fits the bill perfectly for what he would need. Especially considering Scar is an archer, it makes a lot of sense for him to be on horseback. It suits him and his style of fighting so well.

- Some sort of redstone power chair. There are all sorts of ways you could design something like this. Perhaps with pistons that push down against the ground, allowing for jumps. Perhaps just a series of pistions functioning as like a bunch of little spider legs. There are a lot of things you can do with that, you can get very creative.

- For my Vex!Scar lovers, you could have magic be used as a mobility aid. Perhaps a magic wheelchair, or perhaps a magic exoskeleton.

And with all of the ideas, considering how they fit into the setting really changes everything. What are the strengths? What are the draw backs?

With horses, they are strong and fast and agile. But they are big, it is hard to fit into small spaces, and they can be killed.

With some sort of redstone chair, I feel as though it would make sense for it to be robust and strong. Depending on how it is constructed, something fast and agile or perhaps something a bit slower and more clunky. Is it loud? How would stealth work in something like that?

When it comes to any sort of magic you do not want it to fix the disability. It is a mobility aid like any other. Not perfect, not the same as not being disabled, just another tool with its own unique draw backs. Perhaps magic is draining or it takes concentration. Would he tire quicker than others? Would he require food quicker than others? Is it possible for him to lose focus on it in a stressful situation, leaving him stuck until he can calm himself down?

Other things to consider are really specifically the setting as well as what disability you are giving him.

I feel as though on Hermitcraft an option like a redstone chair just makes a lot of sense. Multiple redstone chairs, even, all constructed differently for different uses. Such as ones for building. How does long distance travel work with the chair and how you lore your setting? Is it something he can put in his inventory? Is it something he remains in when using an elytra? Does that have any draw backs, such as being slower or needing more rockets or being less coordinated in the air?

I feel as though in the life series a mix of vex magic and horses makes a lot of sense. The magic is good for small spaces and short trips and emergencies, but it is too tiring to travel across the map with and too much effort to maintain when he needs to concentrate on battles. That would be where the horse comes into play.

As for what disability, well, it truly depends. Most of my rambles here have been based upon paraplegia, because I often times see people making him an ambulatory wheelchair user just because they do not know what to do otherwise.

Not that making him an ambulatory wheelchair user is a bad thing by any means. I am one and I adore reading stories like that. It is just a bit clear that a lot of you are quite lost as to how to navigate hurdles disabled people face, so you make it so he can walk over those hurdles. Which, once again, I am not shaming you for! This post is just to show there are other options

But in the case of him being an ambulatory wheelchair user: why is he one?

Mobilities aids are disabling unless you need them. You cannot access spaces or you do not have hands free or any number of things. What to the Scar you are writing makes using mobility aids helpful instead of a hindrance? What times are they more trouble than help, and what cost is there for not using it?

A good example is if Scar can walk around short distances with minimal difficulty/drawback, but long distances are painful or physically not possible.

Look into different disabilities and consider it. A lot of people tend to default to chronic pain because that tends to be quite a common one across a lot of disabled people, but there are a lot more different reasons why.

It could also be that he is very slow because of his disabilities. I have muscle weakness sometimes because of my FND, and it is like moving through sludge whenever I try and move.

It could also be that the mobility aids are a preventative measure. He does not need to use his wheelchair, unless he has done too much walking and then his body refuses to support his weight. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but when he does not he is a lot more likely to dislocate something and then yeah he can't walk. He does not need to use his wheelchair, but he is a fall risk especially after a lot of walking or running. Him being in his wheelchair prevents him from falling! (And if he's a fall risk, maybe he's strapped in too!)

I just have so many thoughts and I wanted to share them.

I see so many of you putting in effort already and it warms my heart. It is why I feel comfortable enough to make this post, because clearly you all care a lot about representing disabled people well.

:]

If you have read this far thank you so much. Let me know what you think or if you have any questions.

Edit: I made a rough redstone wheelchair design. It is one of the few reblogs that has comments, if you filter for that you should be able to find it. If not, reply to the post and I can send you the link to it. :]

#Mod Tim (He/Him) #Sort of #MCYT #GTWS #scar #goodtimeswithscar #life series #mcyt #secret life #hermitcraft #hc #disabled #disabled scar #actuallydisabled #representation #disabled!scar #wheelchair #wheelchairs #ambulatory wheelchair user #fantasy wheelchairs

[solemnarration]

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter one

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, descriptions of anxiety, swearing, allusions to controlling mother, use of y/n 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: y/i means your initial of your first name. i hope you enjoy the first chapter!! 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒’ 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 – 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟗, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟔

Waiting in the entrance corridor that led to the USTA Billie Jean King National Tennis Center, you nervously fiddled with the homemade friendship bracelet on your wrist, an anxious habit you picked up over the years. The snapping of the elastic band on your skin distracted you from your spiralling thoughts.

You were a whirlwind of nerves and compulsive overthinking.

Even though you knew with certainty how the match would go that day, you couldn’t shake the anxiety that pulsed through your body before every game.

MOTHER: Duncan’s backhand is going to win her the whole damn Championship if you don’t get your act together.

DAD 🩵: I love you, win or lose. Have fun with Tashi and call me when it’s over! Best of luck. Hugs, Dad.

Making friendship bracelets before big tournaments was a tradition your dad started when you were eleven. It let you relax before nerve-wracking events and allowed you to spend time with your dad amidst your busy schedules. Surprisingly, it ended up being a fun, creative outlet as well. You enjoyed focusing on the details of something other than tennis, and sharing it with your dad only made it more special. Given how many years you had to practise, you were good at creating intricate patterns and now had a vast collection of bracelets. Most of them had your name, Tashi’s name, “Dad,” and the year and location of your favourite tournaments and memories on them. 

The bracelets were your good luck charms, and you were comforted by the weight of the beads on your wrist. 

The one you wore that day had a T and Y/I interwoven amongst pretty beads, creating deep pink and white flower shapes. They represented the stargazer lily, your favourite flower. You made the same bracelet for Tashi to wear during the US Open Junior Championships, and her beads were light and dark purple to represent her favourite flower, the sword lily. The meanings behind your favourite flowers were accurate for your roles in the friendship, given that Tashi’s sword lily – technically not a lily at all but an iris – represented strength, victory, and pride. Your stargazer lily represented innocence, purity, and prosperity. She was the heated tennis champion, while you were her gentle, equally successful friend.

The two of you thought it was perfect. Having your favourite flowers be lilies was just one of the many invisible strings that tied the two of you together.

Your father used to say that you and Tashi were the sun and the moon, and you had to agree. Tashi was fiery and outgoing, dominating the tennis world, just as the sun dominated the sky. Passionate and intense. You strived out of the spotlight and were introspective in a way that added serenity to your friendship. Warm-hearted and gentle. “The most important part is the balance,” your father would say when you grumbled how Tashi’s attributes sounded better. “The sun and the moon represent harmony. Together, they are day and night. Work and rest, visibility and mystery, rationality and emotion. Beginnings and endings.”

Perhaps that was why your life felt bookended by meeting and falling out with Tashi. It was the beginning and end of your adolescent life and the reason you made such drastic changes when your friendship ended. You couldn’t be the same person without her.

In the corridor, you could hear the crowd getting restless. Each shallow breath you took caught in your throat, and your anxious thoughts swirled like a tornado in your mind. The spectators were rightfully excited for the beautiful game of tennis they were promised if Tashi Duncan was playing. The fact that you, her talented best friend, were playing in the finals against her had them lapping up the match like they were starved for entertainment. In many ways, you supposed they were. The Junior Championships were dull without you and Tashi bringing the heat, and your matches turned the traditional game into a glittering spectacle of excellence.

Somewhere in the stands, Art Donaldson and Patrick Zweig nursed disposable soda cups and waited for the match to start.

“Don’t you want to meet Tashi Duncan and Y/N Y/L/N?” Patrick wondered, shocked by Art’s indifference to attending the Adidas party that evening. While Art went to the Junior Girls’ Final to see fresh talent in their sport, Patrick knew something far more exceptional awaited them. Art burped, and Patrick stared in disbelief. “You don’t get it, man. You’ve never seen them in person. They’re in another league,” he insisted.

Art glanced down at where Patrick’s knee pressed against his thigh. “You mean their game?” he asked sarcastically. Knowing Patrick as well as he did, Art was aware of the reason for his best friend’s obsession with Tashi Duncan and Y/N Y/L/N.

“No, I mean they’re the hottest women I’ve ever seen,” Patrick proclaimed. He was buzzing with an excitement Art rarely saw; Patrick was glowing. A devilish grin painted his lips, and his eyes darted across the court regularly in hopes of catching a glimpse of you and Tashi.

Answering your nervous prayers, Tashi finally joined you in the entrance corridor. “Hey!” She smiled, carefree and confident, like you weren’t about to play in the Junior Championship Final. The sun, you thought. She’s the sun. You wondered what it was like to shine so brightly and effortlessly. “Are you ready?” Tashi wondered, linking hands with you. Your friendship bracelets touched.

You sighed, squeezing her hand as you calmed your nerves. The crowd’s cheers faded in and out, interrupted by intermittent ringing in your ears. Your heart pounded, and you tried not to hyperventilate. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied reluctantly. Your doubts and fears were a suppressive weight, glueing you to the spot.

Tashi nodded encouragingly at you. She knew you weren’t as scared about playing the match as incurring your mother’s wrath afterwards. Her eyes scanned your expression as if it were the map to the inner workings of your mind. She had a sixth sense when it came to reading your emotions. “You’ve got this, Y/I. You’re a fucking tennis player, and you’re going to kill it,” Tashi declared, squeezing your hand back. “Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.” 

She inhaled deeply, motioning for you to follow her with her free hand. You complied, following Tashi as she exhaled slowly. “I’m a fucking tennis player,” you agreed when you caught your breath, trying to keep your voice from wavering. For now, a voice in the back of your head reminded you. It’ll all be over soon.

“And we’re going to play some fucking tennis,” Tashi added. 

You chuckled. “Thanks, T.”

“Let’s go.”

As you entered the court, the umpire introduced the two of you, “Winner of the Junior Australian Open, Tashi Duncan!” The crowd cheered as you and Tashi stepped onto the blue hard court with intertwined hands. “Local star and runner up of the Junior Australian Open, Y/N Y/L/N!” 

You let the adrenaline rush take over and smiled, waving at your audience as you approached the benches. The applause for you wasn’t quite as blaring as for Tashi, but your home base of New Yorkers was pleased and proud to have you representing them.

From his seat, Art watched with wide eyes as his breath hitched. He watched your lips curve into a grin and felt his cheeks and ears heat up. Seeing you had ignited an insatiable fire in his chest, spreading south quickly. You were like a masterpiece come to life, sending a jolt of electricity through his veins and his senses into overdrive. Patrick glanced sideways at him, empathising with the lovestruck expression on his face.

“See you out there,” you told Tashi, grinning before parting ways and setting your bag down. She pointed two fingers at her eyes before turning her hand and pointing to you, reminding you to stay focused on the game and not let anyone ruin it for you. 

It was an appreciated gesture. Tashi had known you long enough to notice when your mind wandered anxiously. You were reminded that your mother was in the crowd examining your every move; each step you made was deliberately catered to appease her. As long as you did what she said and got through the tournament, you could breathe easy. You took a few sips of electrolyte water, stretched your body, took deep breaths, and practised the visualisation methods your dad taught you. 

Art leaned forward in his seat, eyes trained on you and periodically flickering to Tashi as you both stretched. “Holy shit,” he murmured appreciatively as the flouncy skirt of your white Nike tennis dress revealed the curve of your ass when you bent over to touch your toes. Forget a moth to the flame. Art was like a starving, panting dog waiting for his next meal. He and Patrick had been silent since you and Tashi walked out, blatantly staring with parted lips, too entranced to clap with the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this final round match will be the best of three tie-break sets,” the umpire declared for the audience to hear. “To the left of the chair, from the United States, Y/N Y/L/N. To the right of the chair, also from the United States, Tashi Duncan. Duncan won the toss and elected to serve.”

At the umpire’s cue, you grabbed your racket and walked behind the baseline. Art’s eyes trailed you, admiring how your hips moved as you sauntered across the court. “Fuck,” he remarked. He didn’t think he’d ever looked at someone and thought they had a sexy walk, yet there he was, helplessly looking to Patrick for an explanation. What was it about you that made you so perfectly captivating? “Patrick…” Art trailed off, powerless to your elegant charisma.

His best friend only laughed. “Just wait until you see them play,” Patrick warned Art eagerly.

Behind the baseline, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You envisioned yourself flawlessly executing aces and volleys, being deliberate with your movements and not getting hurt. Positive visualisation was something you started doing recently when your anxiety got the best of you, but you never pictured yourself winning. Not when you played against Tashi.

For a moment, right before the match started, it was just you and your best friend smiling at each other from across the court with an unspoken understanding. No matter how it went, you had unwavering love and support for each other. You were beyond rivalry, and tennis connected you rather than drawing a line between you. This was one of your favourite moments in tennis: the calm before the storm, the moment of anticipation when nobody knew how the match would play out. 

Not you, though. You always knew. 

“First set, Duncan to serve.” The umpire motioned to Tashi. “Ready? Play.”

Nothing could have prepared Art and Patrick for the match they were about to watch. 

You crouched, waiting for your best friend to serve. Just as it had the day you first met Tashi, her backhand was like a sledgehammer strike each time she vaulted the ball over the net.

“Look at that fucking backhand,” Art groaned appreciatively at Tashi’s powerful two-handed backhand. Patrick merely shook his head like he couldn’t believe it.

At one point in the rally you hit wide, and the ball flew out. The umpire called, “15–love, Duncan.” Everyone applauded the point. 

You gained the next point when Tashi hit the net. 15–all. Even though Tashi had that lightning-fast backhand, your rallies were thrilling and beautiful. Tashi took the first game, and then it was your turn to serve.

This was where you thrived.

You bounced the ball on the ground a few times before taking a deep breath, tossing it in the air, and firing it over the net so quickly that Tashi and the audience barely saw it coming. Your serve was quick as a whip, and Tashi couldn’t return it. An ace. A murmur rang through the crowd as the monitor displayed the speed of your serve: 120 miles per hour.

Art nearly whimpered, “Holy fuck!” He’d never seen a girl his age fire a serve that powerful, precise, and fast. Art shifted in his seat.

Patrick sighed reverently. “I think I just came,” he quipped. 

You took the first set, 6-4 in your favour. Tashi took the next. The final set had everyone in the stands on the edge of their seats, waiting to see how things went. You and Tashi were stuck in a 6-6 tiebreaker, and this next point would decide the game. If you won this point, you would play another set to determine the winner of the match. If Tashi won, she would win the US Open Junior Girls’ Singles Championship Final.

There was an electric energy in the air, and Art and Patrick could hear their heartbeats hammering in their ears. The game unfolded remarkably. Everyone held their breaths in anticipation as Tashi served. You returned each stroke with precision and power, allowing the thud of the ball to echo through the court intermixed with your grunts. 

It was a moment of pure bliss.

For once, you weren’t thinking of your mother or her overbearing expectations of you. All you could focus on was you, Tashi, and the ball floating between you. The tension was palpable and thick; nobody in the audience knew how they wanted it to go. Tashi was the clear fan favourite, but her losing this point would mean at least another half-hour of watching the two of you play. Nobody could deny that would be a gripping end to the match.

As if ignited by a rush of raw determination, Tashi struck the ball and sent it soaring across the court, kissing your baseline and winning her the entire match.

With a primal, reverberating roar of passion, Tashi crouched, clenched her fists, and screamed, “Come on!” Her voice echoed through the court, thundering above the crowd cheering for her.

Everyone present knew they’d seen something phenomenal, and they weren’t sure what to do now that it was over.

"Game, set, and match, Duncan. Seven games to six in the final tie break,” the umpire said over the clamour.

You laughed, dropped your racket, and shrieked when Tashi leapt over the tennis court to pull you into a hug. Breathless and sweaty, you wrapped your arms around your best friend and giggled deliriously. All your matches with Tashi were fantastic, but this was one of the most riveting. You pulled away enough to exchange bright smiles, heart pounding with exhilaration from the intense match. Your spirits were high, mirroring Tashi’s excitement and revelling in the knowledge that you had fun and entertained the crowd. For you, that transcended the outcome of the game.

“Now that’s tennis,” Patrick commented, giggling giddily. 

Art got to his feet and clapped, speechless.

“Congrats, T! You just won the goddamn Junior US Open,” you exclaimed, lightheaded from the adrenaline rush. After the gruelling match, you felt your muscles twitching from the exertion. Your body was drenched in sweat, physically and emotionally exhausted by the demands of the sport you and Tashi dedicated your lives to.

Tashi chuckled, beads of sweat dripping from her temples. “Who cares? You just showed me that you’re not ready to give up on tennis yet,” she retorted, smirking triumphantly. You opened your mouth to argue, but Tashi shook her head. “I know you think you want to quit but you haven’t even given yourself a chance yet! Think about it, your mom isn’t going to be riding your ass when we’re at Stanford. You might just fall back in love with it,” she pointed out.

You rolled your eyes and smiled fondly at her. She meant well by encouraging you to keep up with tennis, but nobody could convince you to keep going.

When you and Tashi turned to bow and wave at the crowd, Patrick stood beside Art. “What time did you say the Adidas party was?” Art asked, wonderstruck. 

Patrick’s lips curled into a brazen smirk, like a cat that had just caught the canary, and his eyes sparkled with a knowing gleam. “I knew you’d come around.”

𝐀𝐓𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍, 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐀 – 𝐉𝐔𝐋𝐘 𝟐𝟕, 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟗

“We need to get you some more match time, then,” Tashi decided. She and Art were sitting in their hotel room in Atlanta after his crushing defeat by a French teenager. Grabbing her phone, she checked what other tournaments were happening before the US Open.

“I can play Cincinnati,” Art protested, not wanting Tashi to pull him out. 

“No. No, you cannot. Not like this,” Tashi disagreed. It wasn’t that she would be embarrassed if Art lost; she loved and respected him more than his wins. It was the fact that she knew he had more in him. More fight and more passion. Tashi just needed to find a way to reignite the flames. “Okay, how about--” she paused. New Rochelle, New York. Around the corner from where Y/N Y/L/N grew up and currently resided. Speaking of reigniting old flames… “How about New Rochelle?” Tashi proposed. 

Art’s shoulders tensed. He exhaled shakily, mind immediately going to you. Tashi wasn’t oblivious to how her husband had a visceral, physical reaction whenever you were brought up. The last time either of them saw you – really saw you up close – was three years ago at the French Open, the year you and Art took home the Singles titles. Art and Tashi were invited to the Nike afterparty celebrating your second French Open Singles win in 2016. Tashi thought Art would faint at the rate he held his breath each time he saw you. His hands clutched the table whenever you laughed; it was like his hands itched to reach for you, like a bee drawn to the sweetest flower.

“That’s a Challenger,” Art stammered, trying to change the subject.

Even though he tried to keep his mind off you, his thumb subconsciously traced the friendship bracelet on Tashi’s wrist. It was one of the many bracelets Lily made for her, a skill their daughter learned from her father.

Tashi recalled when you were teenagers, and you tried to get her to make bracelets with you. You must have convinced her to do it a handful of times, but she never had the patience to focus on anything except tennis and gave up every time. 

The only person who ever took the time and care to make you a bracelet was Art Donaldson.

Tashi ignored his obvious shift in topic. “Yeah, I know that. It’s in a couple of days. Maybe we can get you a wildcard,” she suggested. Art scoffed quietly, averting his eyes and fiddling with the colourful beads on her bracelet. “Art?” He hummed nonchalantly. “You need to start winning,” Tashi told him firmly. Moments like these made it hard to walk the line between spouse and coach. “Right now, you’re getting crushed by guys like Du Maurier. So we need to go somewhere, where there’s absolutely nobody on the other side of the net who can shake your fucking confidence. Okay?” Tashi underscored the importance of the Challenger. “That’s why we’re going to--” she glanced at her phone-- “Phil’s Tire Town Challenger.”

Art chuckled. Even when he first started in the professional tennis world, he’d never gone to a Challenger with a name like that. “That’s the only reason we’re going to New Rochelle?” Art asked, smiling knowingly at Tashi. 

She didn’t care that he’d caught on to her scheme. “You’re telling me you don’t want to see her?” Tashi retorted, raising an eyebrow at her husband. “If she was right in front of you, you’d just turn around and walk away?” Their silent exchange of glances spoke volumes, acknowledging the unspoken truth that he loved you. Amidst the tension, there was a quiet understanding between them. Tashi knew what it was like to have loved and lost you. Perhaps not in the same way as Art, but in your friendship that once meant everything to her. “Because I think you’d hold on and never let go of her again,” Tashi argued.

Art couldn’t disagree with her. After all, a man never forgets his first love. 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: how are we feeling after this chapter?? i hope you enjoyed the way i incorporated the friendship bracelets and lilies (yes art and tashi named their daughter after the fact that your favourite flower is a lily asdfghjhkhl) thank you for reading xx

#challengers #art donaldson x reader #patrick zweig x reader #art donaldson #patrick zweig #tashi duncan #challengers x reader #challengers fanfic #challengers fanfiction #mike faist x reader #josh o connor x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson imagine #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig imagine #fic: guilty as sin?

[helluvapoison]

Sing, Little Songbird

The Vees x Singer!Reader

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

˚✧₊⁎ Valentino ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Since it’s not something he can exploit in his line of work, Val lets himself simply enjoy your gift

• His eyes may not be great but his hearing is impeccable

• A day won’t go by without him cupping your chin and asking for a song

• “Sweet pájaro,” He purrs, “Sing for me, won’t you?”

• Jokes about putting you in a golden birdcage or having you be his alarm clock

• He likes to put a hand on your throat while you hum or sing, seemingly entranced until you stop

• Valentino will take your hands mid song and begin to dance with you

• “Keep singing,” He says firmly yet soft, as if not trying to interrupt you entirely

• He’ll tell you to learn a song for him every now and then

• Randomly, Val will have Kitty get you tea with lemon. It’s not optional, you’re drinking it

˚✧₊⁎ Velvette ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Acts offended when she catches you singing in the shower. Perched on the counter when you pulled the curtain, she has her arms crossed and a rather peeved expression on her face

• “Why didn’t I know you could do this?”

• She scares the everloving crap out of you, you almost break your neck, “Have you been sitting there this whole time!?”

• Velvette has creative business partners, sure, but a gifted sweetheart is just another leg up in the world

• She wants to collaborate immediately. Incorporate your singing into her shows and be the “it” couple she knows the two of you can be

• Take this as a major compliment because she doesn’t like sharing credit

• —And she isn’t handing this out just because you’re dating, either! She knows talent when she sees it!

• Whether or not you take her up on her offer, Velvette loves to hear you sing

• She made a playlist of songs that remind her of your relationship, she gets giggly when she hears you singing one of them

• “I could make you famous in two minutes flat, you know.” Velvette praises when you’re finished

• “How would I get to hold you if I was always on a stage, hm? Would you be my groupie?”

• Cackling, she rolls her eyes, “As if! You’d get my autograph across your chest and dedicate every single song to me!”

• “Good thing I’m happy doing that right here,” You grin, hugging her close

˚✧₊⁎ Vox ⁎⁺˳✧༚

• Is it bad the first time he heard you singing he thought of no less than a thousand ways to put that voice to use?

• (Don’t answer that)

• Vox asked you a handful of times if you’d be the voice of Voxtech but you declined, worried it might ruin the activity entirely

• The possibility never occurred to him

• “Forget I asked! Your voice is priceless to me, anyways.”

• It doesn’t stop though! When you sing, Vox gets a plethora of ideas! Ringtones, jingles, commercials, you name it and he’s already thought of it!

• He’ll grab your shoulders, cutting off your song, lift you up for a kiss to the cheek and disappear!

• “Birdy, you’re the fucking greatest! Imagine the numbers we’d be seeing if you let me use you instead of that wannabe Mayday cunt.”

• It’s a compliment to you more than an insult to the singer (er, supposed to be anyways)

• “What happened to being priceless?” You faux pout

• “I can’t help it! You know I’m your biggest fan,” Vox purrs, coming up behind you and holding your hips, “How bout a private concert?”

• “You’re on a work high, aren’t you? Feening for some more inspiration, Voxxy?”

• “…Maybe.”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #vox x reader #vox headcanons #vox imagine #velvette headcanons #velvette imagine #velvette headanons #valentino headcanons #valentino x reader #valentino imagine

[tkingfisher]

So I write all sorts of things (fiction, fanfic, screenplays) and my mind is cluttered garden of flowers and weeds and shiny ideas, and I'm wondering how to form a writing practice to clear it into tidy rows? Is it possible to shepherd untamed ideas into order?

How do you manage all your wonderful worlds, characters and inspiration and not feel haunted by the story bits and pieces in your head? Any practical tips beyond dark magic?

Thank you, you are such a constant inspiration for me, both prose and just your presence. <3

*laugh* Oh god, Nonny, if I ever find out, I’ll tell you! When you read books, you’re getting the Instagram-filtered view of a writer’s brain, all the flowers that grew out of the compost heap, carefully composed and shot in optimal lighting. The real inside of my skull is a magpie nest of Neat Shit I Read/Saw/Thought Up While Lying Awake At 2 AM. There are characters and ideas in there that I’ve been trying to get into a manuscript since I was twelve and typing on an Amiga 500.

But, that said…really, I think it’s okay. Creativity is inherently untidy. The compost heap can be corralled into a very pretty box made of sustainably harvested materials, hand-stained by traditional artisans being paid a living wage by an employee-owned company, but as soon as you lift the lid, it’s all worms and coffee grounds and old potting soil and cow shit and the vegetables you swore you were gonna eat this time before they went bad. That’s what compost is.

Nevertheless, having been in the business for…uh…fifteen years now? (@dduane is snickering at me, I can feel it) and having written nearly forty books, I can offer three bits of something less than advice. It’s what I do. It may not work for anyone else, but it’s what I do.

Un-Advice The First: If you get a shiny idea and you are super excited by it? Go ahead and chase it. Pull up a new page in Word or whatever and slap down a couple thousand words while it’s exciting. I know that this absolutely flies in the face of common wisdom, but quite frankly, my enthusiasm is a much rarer commodity than my time, so if I’m excited about something, I write it down until I’ve taken the edge off.

Then I usually save it into a big folder called “Fragments” and go back to work on whatever I’ve got a deadline on. (Usually. Sometimes the edge doesn’t wear off, and I wind up with another book. Which, y’know, darn.)

There are vast numbers of people who will tell you that a shiny idea is a sign that something is wrong with your current project and the solution is to knuckle down and work! through! it! And those people are probably right for them, and I trust they know how their own brains work. Me, though, I got ADHD like a bat has wings. My hard drive is a vast swamp of story beginnings, neat ideas, random scenes. And that’s okay because I still get books finished.

In fact, it’s better than okay. Not that long ago, my agent sent a novella to a publisher and they said “We’ll take that novella and three more novels. What’ve you got?” And I ended up plundering my hard drive and sending the editor a good dozen random beginnings until we found one that we both liked, and then I wrote the rest of that book. And then another one. If I hadn’t had all those fragments lying around, though, it would have been a miserable experience of writing book pitches and trying to think of stuff I could get excited about. (This may not be how some editors work, but it’s how my editor and I work, anyhow.)

Un-Advice The Second: Trust that everything will find a home eventually.

This one is easy to say and hard to do because sometimes you get that overload that if you’re writing the book about, say, werebear nuns, you aren’t writing the one about the alien crustaceans. Or worse, you feel guilty. If you don’t use that one cool thing, was all that time you spent on it wasted?

Breathe. Be easy. Every single cool thing does not need to go into a single book. There is no sell-by date on the neat character. You will probably write many books in your life and all those random characters will find a home. (Seriously, the werebear nuns were lurking for like a decade.)

For me, at least, when I find the spot where something fits, it often snaps into place like a Lego. Easton’s backstory as a soldier from a society where soldiers were a third sex had been kicking around in my head for a few years, derived from about three different sources, and then I wrote the opening to What Moves The Dead and all of a sudden Easton was there and alive and they had strong opinions about everything and I had ten thousand words practically before I turned around.

You can also stave off guilt by writing some of your ideas in as highly personal Easter Eggs. A couple of my books have references to a white deer woman, a heroic deed done by a saint and the ghost of a bird, and a woman with dozens of hummingbirds on tiny jeweled leashes. Those are all characters and stories I’ve had vague notions about, but haven’t managed to work in anywhere or learn much more about. Still, the passing reference is enough to make me feel like I haven’t abandoned them.

(The advantage to this is that once you DO write those in, the readers are all “oh my god, she foreshadowed this a decade ago, she must have planned this all out in advance!” Then you look really clever and well-organized and no one has to know that you have no idea what you’re doing.)

Un-Advice The Third: Write the kitchen sink book.

At one point, I had so many stray ideas that hadn’t gotten into a book yet—the tree of frogs, the dog-soldiers, the stained glass saint, the albatross and the shadow of the sun, and also I wanted to write something with Baba Yaga—that I hauled off and wrote a book where I just put in everything and the kitchen sink. It’s called Summer in Orcus. There are bits in there that I had been cooking in the mental compost heap for decades, but that weren’t enough on their own to sustain a whole book. The phrase “antelope women are not to be trusted” showed up in my head some time in college. It’s a fun little book and I’m proud of it, but it’s very much a patchwork quilt of weirdness. But it’s also written so that if later on, an antelope woman shows up in another book in another context, that just adds to their mythology, it doesn’t break canon or whatever.

(Pretty sure I’m not the only one who has done this, either. China Mieville has said that he wrote Perdido Street Station because what he really enjoyed was writing all the weird monsters.)

So yeah, that’s my advice, for what it’s worth. Some days I just tell all the fragments and ideas that I promise that I’ll get them a home eventually but I need to write this thing here now. Sometimes I throw down enough words to get the story stabilized and then I’m okay to move on. Sometimes I write multiple books simultaneously.

Any method you use to write the book, so long as it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, is a perfectly valid method. If anyone tells you different, you send them to me.

(…god, I hope that was the question you were actually asking, Nonny, and that I didn’t go off on a completely different tangent when you just wanted to know how I keep track of a plot or something.)

#long #rambling #writing

[imaginesheaven]

Medic!reader x TF 141 - friendship headcanons

Warnings: none really; mention of injuries

Captain Price requests especially you for the team since he got a glimpse at your file and got impressed instantly by your skills.

That’s is actually not really  surprising because you are quite the legend under the medics and soldiers. No one knows how you keep so many of your team members alive but you do with a quite high rate. This skill of yours turns you into the most wanted medic probably in the whole British Army.

The team isn’t quite sure how to deal with a medic in their lines. They never had one long enough to get used to them. So, at the beginning everything is a bit awkward for all of you.

Within the first mission you show them that you aren’t only a medic but also a fighter who will give everything to see another day. You even saved Soap’s ass in a quite sassy demeanor.

“Ha, Sarge. You owe me one.” – You wink at him grinning away while the men just share a quite confused but impressed glance.

With that you earned your spot at the Task Force 141 and the respect of their members for the rest of your life.

You love taking care of the boys, but you would never tell them directly. Your preferred love language for them is sassiness in every single situation you can think of.

“How is Soap?”, Price asks as you patch the soldier up, “He will survive … unfortunately. Which is quite the surprise with so much stupidity in him.” – “Hey! I can hear you, Doc.” – “Great, at least you are not deaf so I don’t have to repeat myself…”

Gaz and Ghost keep snickering in the back before you turn around and throw them death glares, “You two are not better than him.”

Captain Price loves that you have to deal with this shit too now in your own way.

Since you are patching them up quite frequently, they are treating you like the Holy Grail itself. You are probably the best protected member of the British Army the world has ever seen.

One of them is always by your side at the battlefield, “We got your back, Doc. Don’t worry~”

You are never worried about your own safety and health. These men would literally jump in front of a bullet for you to keep you alive.

“STOP PUTTING YOURSELF IN DANGER FOR ME! THIS IS EVEN MORE WORK FOR ME!”

Of course, you love them in a platonic way to pieces that they want to keep you safe no matter the cost.

Once on a mission you get knocked out by one of the rookies by accident, “We need a medic!” The poor boy had no idea what he gotten himself into. The team looks at you unconscious on the ground, “THAT IS OUR MEDIC! YOU BRAINLESS PIECE OF …”

Ghost and Price have to hold back Soap and Gaz before the punch the living hell out of the rookie. The poor boy is scarred and traumatized for his life.

Back on the home base they come to you with the tiniest injuries because you are their favorite medic ever.

“What is it, Gaz?” – “Got a paper cut. It hurts.” – “You got … a papercut. Do you want your band-aid with ponies or spider-man?” … “Ponies…”

You already have your first-aid kit ready when Gaz, Soap and sometimes Ghost do stupid shit together.

“Hey, Doc. What’cha doing?”, Price takes the seat next to you. Without a word you hold up the kit and point at the boys, “Working.” Not a second later you already hear the pained cries from one of them. “I have no idea how long you all could survive that long without me…”

Getting the call sign “Doc” from the team even if you had a different one before. Not very creative, but it is short and everyone got used to it way too fast. So, Doc it is.

They would never admit it out loud, but the thought men are scared to lose you as much as you are to lose one of them.

During another mission the enemy got you good with a bullet to your shoulder. There was no way you could take care of it yourself. Since the evac would be in the morning you had a whole night to bleed to death. There was no other way around to save your life.

You gave them a good description and a to-do list how they open the wound to get out the bullet and to patch up afterwards. The hard men watched you with pure fear in their eyes as you get everything ready for them to be the doctors this time.

“You can do this, boys”, you encourage them smiling, but all of you know exactly that your time is running out. They would lose you.

Ghost takes things into his own hands and will be the one getting the bullet out. The Captain stays by his side to assist as best as he could. Gaz and Soap are way too nervous to do anything except for holding onto each other.

“How about you two take care of the watch?”, Price gives them an order to get their nervous energy out of his reach. Of course, they would watch from afar instead of keeping their eyes on the windows.

The pain of opening the wound to get the bullet out of your shoulder gets the best of you. Nothing comes over your lips as you slump forward unconscious. Nothing has panicked these men ever before like your blacked out form not able to guide them through every little step.

At least you couldn’t hear the wave of curse words washing over you. Of course, they still manage to patch you up quite nicely and take care of you. You are wrapped up in jackets to make you comfortable as they watch you through the night.

“Shit, I have never done something scarier than this…”, Ghost couldn’t believe you are doing this so often never getting tired of it. You already earned all of their respect beforehand, but once again they are reminded how amazing you are.

“Doc didn’t even scream just passed out silently”, Gaz can’t imagine how painful that must have been. Secretly he wished to be tough like you one day.

“… Why are you all staring at me? You are so creepy”, it isn’t the best way to wake up with four men staring at you intensely like they did. Still you are very grateful that they saved your ass.  

Back home you pay for the first round of drinks since you are alive and get to see another day with your team.

#mw x reader #cod x reader #price x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #mw headcanons #john price #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #john mactavish #john mactavish x reader #simon riley #task force 141 #cod headcanons #mw2 #mw2 x reader #friendship headcanons

[dduane]

Status report, “Why Won’t My REM Sleep Work The Way I Want It To” dep’t

(Tom Sturridge's voice) When the waking world leaves you wanting and weary, sleep brings you here to find freedom and adventure; to face your fears and fantasies...

DD: (resigned not-for-the-first-time thought, off the usual admiration of the grace of the phrasing) Dammit, I really wish I remembered my dreams more often.

DD (that night, asleep, somewhere between 1:30 and 6:30 AM*): Experiences prolonged, convoluted and vivid dream about meeting up with a group of people as (understood) lead for an upcoming creative project of some kind. During the dream she is responsible for numerous infrastructure objects and events involved in this meeting, many of which go awry while the participants participate gamely all throughout and leave her feeling like an incompetent idiot. This then morphs into a far more prosaic dream about her being in a hotel room packing to leave, in which the stuff she needs to bring all suddenly turns out to be both heavier than expected and too big to fit in either suitcase. One of these items is a huge hardcover book which she regards in exasperated resignation, realizing that there’s no way out of it, she’s going to have to buy another suitcase and pay extra to check the fucking thing—

DD: (wakes up enough to realize with intense relief that this is indeed a dream and all unreal—while still remembering it vividly, down to textures and colors.)

(Quick bout of Even While Half Asleep analysis ensues, because asleep or awake, she's still been a psych nurse. A standard discharge-of-stress dream; and yeah, considering the usual worries that [for her] come with executing short-form fiction when she usually works where there's more room to stretch, the Gigantic Book’s a little on the nose as visual metaphor goes. But whatever. For the dreamer, dreams are inherently first draft. Editing comes later…)

DD: [Still fortunately only halfway out of the post-dream ex-psychopompic state, beckons over passing character] Dusty, do me a favor? Get Lord Morpheus on the horn and tell him I said “Ha ha, very funny.”

Herewiss: And was it really?

DD: (wakes up fully off his amused/ironic look, rolls eyes) ...Honestly, what even is my life. :)

*Timing indeterminate because the Fitbit, which has been losing power abruptly sometimes, had dumped its charge and failed to record REM or other data during this period. ...So annoying. Oh well, some other time.

#dreaming #not at all overrated #but sometimes so uncooperative #😏 #and also: having Dream walk through a dream (even when he's o.s.) is hilariously meta

[queenimmadolla]

eddie using wayne as a dnd prop

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR3topDo/

consider me inspired.

𝐃𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

(dad!eddie munson x mom!reader)

dad!eddie masterlist

Summary: When his newborn baby keeps distracting the Hellfire Club during a session, Eddie gets a little creative with keeping them on track.

warnings: this body of work may give you baby fever. viewers are reminded that eddie munson cannot be your baby daddy. discretion advised. which just means this is fluff.

“. . . You approach the shopkeeper, wary of the many skeletal remains hanging from the ceiling. You’re not welcome, it’s apparent from the menacing look on his face, not helped by the flicker of the burning candles. Sir Soren notices the shopkeeper’s arm reaching slowly under the table—’’ 

  “AWWWWWWWW!” 

  Eddie snapped out of his revery, stuttering as the rest of Hellfire cooed and Dustin even squealed. He followed their gazes, to the newborn in his lap, weighing no more than six pounds and smaller than most of his big sister’s stuffed animals after his early arrival into the world, and he could see why they reacted like they did.

  His son was mid yawn, plump little lips stretched into a wide ‘O’, eyes squeezed shut.

  Once he was done yawning, the baby blinked owlishly, staring at nothing in particular with heavy lidded eyes.

  “Oh my god, he’s so cute.”

  “He’s so little! Look at those teeny tiny feet!” Dustin was making weird faces at baby Wayne, trying to get some sort of positive reaction out of him. 

  “Forget the feet, look at his hands!” Eddie glanced down to see what Erica was talking about, the newborn had somehow managed to link his  squishy fingers together. “He’s so distinguished! What a proper little gentleman!”

  “FOCUS!” Eddie snapped, sighing when his bellow spooked the baby in his hands. Not enough to make him cry, but Eddie had felt his little body go stiff. He placed one hand over his baby’s front and used the other to rub his back. Sure enough, Wayne relaxed into his hold, leaning forward onto Eddie’s forearm.

  “You can’t tell us to focus on what you’ve been bragging about is the most terrifying part of our campaign when you’ve got cutie patootie front and center.” Dustin argued.

  Eddie rolled his eyes, “I can put him down for his nap—’’

  “NO!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Don’t do it!”

  “That’s illegal!”

  “That’s what I thought,” Eddie was smug, leaning back into the recliner. 

  Since his graduation, Hellfire continued both as a school club and out of school with most of the members perfecting their characters and strategizing during their school meetups. Sessions took place on fridays at the Munson trailer.

  Normally, you’d use the Hellfire sessions for some mommy and daughter bonding time with Penny or on occasion, Penny would sometimes stay with him and cheer on the group.

  Bad daddy! Very bad daddy! She’d scolded him after a session a couple of months ago for a different campaign in which Will’s character was killed.

  You’d been low on groceries so you’d planned on running out for more while Hellfire took place but neither you or Eddie had taken the kids out solo yet.  

  It was easy when both of you went, but a routine trip to the grocery store seemed intimidating if you’d be trying to juggle a newborn and mischievous toddler. 

  Eddie convinced you to leave Wayne with him. It’d be easy, he was used to Penny’s crazy antics during those times she stayed with him during Hellfire, so a newborn who was barely active if he wasn’t sleeping would be a walk in the park. He was much more confident as a father this time around, actually knew what he was doing.

  There was only one problem: his baby was just too damn adorable.

  You’d found Penny’s old Hellfire onesie and while it was too big to button, you’d put a pair of baby sweats over Wayne’s little legs, tucking the onesie in. 

  Every single member had promptly lost their shit after seeing Wayne in his arms when they walked in.

  In fact, the session had started late as Wayne made his rounds through their arms. Amy—a new member, a freshman and a cheerleader (she was a little annoying with how often she brought it up)—hadn’t wanted to give him back but none of the party could focus with the baby in such close proximity so Eddie had reclaimed him. 

  If Wayne did anything remotely baby like, they’d go off course. Half an hour had passed and they’d barely made it from the town entrance to a single shop. An astounding amount of progress.

  “Get those big heads of yours back in the game,” Eddie cleared his throat, Dungeon Master persona taking over again. 

  “You enter the shop─”

  Wayne hiccuped against the skin of his arm where he was drooling, it was low and probably would have gone unnoticed had the party not already been paying an intense amount of attention to him. 

  Did you hear that?!

  Oh. My. GOD!

  Eddie, let me hold him.

  “That’s it, the shop is rigged with homemade explosives, Sir Soren triggered them, the shop blows up. You’re all dead. Session over.”

  They all groaned and protested.

  “Okay—okay! We’ll pay attention.”

  Hiccup.

  “OH MY GOD, HE DID IT AGAIN!”

  They all went into baby talk mode, each of them trying to grab his son’s attention, who managed to somehow avoid looking at any of them while staring off into their general direction.

  Eddie sighed, shoulders caving under defeat as he readjusted his hold on his baby, hands grasping his sides and supporting Wayne’s head as he lifted him to eye level.

  Wayne’s big, brown eyes focused on him immediately, making almost silent baby noises. Eddie softened, corners of his lips twitching out of endearment. 

  “You gotta help me out here, kid.”

  Hiccup.

  Eddie lowered him, pressing a kiss to his soft little nose.

  The baby let out a sharp squeak, thrusting his head forward. Eddie raised his chin to avoid the collision as his son’s head nuzzled and bumped against his collar, almost as if he was physically trying to seek more affection, encourage Eddie to give him more kisses.

  Baby neck control, man. So bobble-head like.  

  “What am I gonna do with you?” Eddie mumbled, bending to smother the lower half of his face into the fuzz on his baby’s head.

  It was then he noticed how silent the party was, attention finally focused on him. Amy practically had hearts in her eyes (though she had a crush on Will, who was too kind to burst her bubble), “Can I hold him again? Please?”

  “No way! That’s not fair, you already got to hold him!” Lucas argued.

  “Yeah, well so did you!”

  “I meant during Hellfire! You were holding him when we first came into town!”

  “That doesn’t count, Eddie took him away!”

  And so came another argument. Eddie wasn’t even slightly amused as he watched them go back and forth. Until, he had an idea. 

  Maybe they could focus with Wayne in close proximity after all.

  He shielded the back of his baby’s head with his hand, palm covering one ear and his fingers covering the other.

(a/n: yeah, his hand is bigger than Wayne’s head, go ahead and swoon)

  “SHUT UP!” The voices of the party died down immediately. “New rule…”

  ─

  You parked alongside the trailer, right next to Eddie’s van and unloaded your groceries. It wasn’t too much, three bags. 

  “I help, mama! I can cawwy!” Penny had insisted, leaning her body against your legs with her arms stretched up and you relented, taking out most of the items save for a few rolls of toilet paper from one bag to hand her. 

  “Such a good helper, thank you so much!”

  “Yes.” She hummed, a satisfied smile stretching her face. 

  The two of you climbed up the steps—you’d had to shift both the grocery bags in one arm to help her hop up the steps and unlock the door—and entered your home, immediately noting the tense atmosphere. 

  Lucas stopped his dialogue and the entire table turned to you with Eddie grinning from his place, lounged back in the recliner, “Hey, baby. Welcome home.”

  On impulse, your eyes scanned the room for your actual baby, spotting him in Lucas’ arms as the rest of Hellfire greeted both you and Penny.

  Penny put her bag on the ground near the counter and ran over to Eddie who helped her into his lap before his arms wrapped around her little frame to hold her in place while he smothered her face in kisses.

  She squealed and wiggled until he released her and she immediately slid out of his lap in favor of Will’s.

  “Sorry to interrupt, you won’t even notice I’m here.”

  “I always notice, why don’t you join us for this last bit?” Eddie asked, beckoning you over with his forefinger in a come hither gesture. 

  “I will as soon as I’m done putting this stuff away—don’t you dare,” You nearly glared at him as he began to rise in order to assist you, “I’ll be right there, it’ll take me like two minutes and you always put stuff in the wrong place.”

  Eddie smirked, “You say this, yet you find it every time.”

  Your glare was a playful one and you shook your head, gaze flickering back over as Lucas handed your baby over to Mike.

  “No, dude, it’s Gareth’s turn.”

  “Oh my bad.”

  Then the oddest thing happened. Mike handed your baby over to Lucas, who passed him to Amy, who then placed him in Gareth’s waiting arms.

  “Is there a reason everyone is playing hot potato with our child?”

  “He’s my potato…” You heard Penny mumble.

  “Outside of Hellfire he might be our son, but inside the Realm of Asmodeus, he is the Ioun Stone of Language Knowledge, a gift bestowed upon the party by King Wolfgang,” Eddie informed you, casting the teens before him an amused look.

  “Because no one could pay attention, the shopkeeper was able to curse them with different languages to create a communication barrier. Whoever holds the stone is understood by the members in their new respective languages. In other words, everyone gets to hold the baby, and move beyond just several feet. Everyone’s happy.”

  Dustin huffed, “Not me, you all left me for dead in the tunnels!”

  Eddie shrugged and checked the time on his watch, “Well, don’t spend your turn with the stone talking about how you want to eat its fingers and toes and maybe you’ll see the trap next time. It’s late anyways, pack it up. We’ll pick up here next week.”

  Without standing, Eddie made grabby hands in Wayne and Gareth’s directions, with the latter handing him over.

  You quickly put your groceries away while everyone stored all the props and joined Eddie, seating yourself on his lap, mindful of the baby resting on his chest.

  Penny was running around after them, trying her hardest to be Lucas and Will’s helper and the two of you watched her until Dustin piped in.

  “You’re not really gonna let them leave me in a ditch though, right?” 

  Eddie smirked and remained silent, one hand moving to slip behind you and rest against your hip while the other played with his son’s wrinkly fingers. 

  “Right, Eddie?”

  “Can’t understand you, you’re not holding the stone.”

#pennyverse #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #dilf!eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fanction #stranger things 4 #stranger things volume 1 #stranger things volume 2 #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things vol 1 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #eddie munson x you #joe quinn x reader #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #girl dad!eddie munson #queenimmadolla

[bedoballoons]

Just wrote a Sumeru boys request and when I saw there was another one I got so excited!! AHH I LOVE CUDDLY READER!! Thank you for this request and I hope you enjoy <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ❄️

{༻~Cuddles, snuggles and warm bundles~༺}

CW: GN! Reader, fluffy cuddles with the Sumeru boys!!

(Includes: Tighnari, Kaveh, Alhaitham, Wanderer, and Cyno!)

𑁍༄Tighnari:

You pulled the blanket around you tighter, the chill of the morning making you want to stay in bed and cuddle with Tighnari all day, feeling his fluffy tail wrapped around you and his arms sleepy holding you against him. Maybe he felt the same way you did, or maybe you both were so comfortable that any other plans no longer mattered, but neither of you ended up moving even after a couple hours.

Even after he fully woke up and just watched you with this dreamy gaze, even after you talked for hours about everything going on in your life that you hadn't gotten to tell him about, even after the two of you started getting hungry. It was just...so unlike either of you to stay in bed and just, enjoy eachothers company. Forget about work and the things that make the days hurry by.

"Hey Tighnari, can we snuggle like this more often? Just take a break and catch up until we physically have to get out of bed..."

"I love that idea. I think, this may be one of my new favourite things to do"

𑁍༄Kaveh:

You watched Kaveh as he sketched out a entire new layout for the design he'd been stuck on for hours now. This one really seemed to be getting to him and even with all the help you could give, he just wasn't having a good time, he seemed stretched thin...creativity all but gone. "Kaveh, why don't you take a break hmm? We can cuddle for a little and give your mind a rest?"

He sighed in defeat and nodded, smiling as you curled under his arm, using his side as a pillow, "I'm not sure why this idea is so difficult for me to get a grasp on...it's just supposed to be a comfy look, but none of what I had in mind originally really fits what I'm going for." He kissed the top of your head as you listened to his troubles, you wished you could do more for him but you didn't really know how to design anything..,"Well, hmm. When do you feel the comfiest Kaveh?"

"When I'm with you. Oh, my gosh that's it!" He quickly grabbed his sketch pad, his pencil drawing cushions and hidden heart shaped motifs into the design...unaware he'd left you with a goofy smile and a dark blush. Maybe you were more help than you thought.

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

You placed a kiss on Alhaithams neck, feeling sleepy after cuddling with him for so long. Usually he'd have work or other things to attend to, but today, today was his day with you and that meant sitting there reading as you snuggled up to him. The room nice and warm, his arms tightly holding you in place and the gentle sound of the page flipping ever so often...maybe others would find it strange to be so quiet, awkward even, but to you two it was like a comforting silence. A time to unwind and not hear the constant chatter of others or things moving, nothing but the two of you enjoying eachothers presence.

His chin gently rested on your head and you smiled, finally letting your heavy eyelids close and nod off to sleep. You wouldn't even wake up when he carried you to bed, but the next morning would feel like a breeze, like all your stressed had just...melted away.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer grunted as you climbed into his lap, your head resting on his chest and his arms holding you tight so you wouldn't fall. To think you'd ask for such a silly thing...to cuddle in a tree, was it something you'd seen in a romance book or dreamed of? He didn't know...he didn't even know why he'd actually agreed to it...until you were resting in his embrace, the soft flutter of leaves all around you and the branches hiding you from the rest of the world.

"It's nice isn't it Wanderer..."

"Tsk...I guess so." He hid his face in your hair, thinking about you and your wild imagination, he silently thanked you for showing him this type of love. He never thought he'd enjoy it as much as he truly did.

𑁍༄Cyno:

You smiled as Cyno kissed your cheek from behind, his hands intertwined with yours and your back resting against his chest. You wouldn't say it out loud yet, but cuddling with him were your favourite moments. Whenever he pulled you close, wether it be after he's just won a tcg game against one of his friends or after he's had a long day and just needs to hold you for comfort, you loved it.

"You okay Cyno?"

"Yes, just a had a long day and wished to be close to you..."

"Ah, well I'm here. How about I tell you a couple jokes I heard today, they made me think of you." You tilted your head back slightly so you could see his reaction and the smallest bit of a smile had already started to form. "Tell me."

"Why did the invisible man turn down the job offer?"

"Hmm why?"

"He couldn't see himself doing it." You blushed as he laughed happily, finding the joke far funnier than it actually was.

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*⁠.⁠✧

#genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham headcanons #kaveh x you #kaveh x reader #kaveh headcanons #kaveh fluff #wanderer fluff #wanderer headcanons #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #tighnari x you #tighnari x reader #tighnari headcanons #tighnari fluff #cyno x you #cyno x reader #cyno fluff #cyno headcanons

[burst-of-iridescent]

thoughts on the atla live action trailer:

looks like we're definitely getting more of the air nomad genocide. i'm hoping this means more flashbacks and development of the air nomads in general, but it definitely sets the tone for the series if this is what they're starting out with

azula shooting an arrow?? she doesn't seem to be wearing eyeliner and lipstick like in the promo shots, so i'm guessing it's a younger azula. i'm interested to see where this is going

aang crashing into the rock like in the opening credits <3 i'm glad they seem to be keeping some of the silliness and humour of the original

the actors for the main four are crushing it so far, but gordon cormier as aang is absolutely the standout for me. the scene where he has tears in his eyes while talking about how he can't save the world... that's my son, that's my boy etc

katara and aang laughing at sokka, aang running to hug the water tribe sibs!! they got the dynamic DOWN

i know there's like 2 seconds of the blue spirit and aang working together but. i'm obsessed

"i'm the avatar and i'm going to save the world... with my friends" tears. full tears

bumi! jun! jet! slightly disappointed we didn't get a cabbage man appearance yet but they're probably saving that for the show. the minor characters all look stellar so far

katara and zuko's fight at the north pole do you hear me screaming

i really like the way aang's tattoos light up when he enters the avatar state

the bending looks surprisingly good so far. i love how fluid the water and firebending in particular seem. could this be the redemption we deserve for [gestures at movie that doesn't exist]?

the settings look amazing. omashu especially is beautiful

i'm more curious than ever what it was about the show that bryke had to walk away from because of "creative differences". everything we've seen so far seems really promising and true to the original.

still keeping my expectations low because trailers can be misleading but i'm cautiously hopeful <3

#atla #atla live action #avatar the last airbender