#lili is a trapezoid

[deathlessathanasia]

“The earliest known representation of a goddess in the Minoan repertoire is the so-called Goddess of Myrtos from Room 92 of the Early Minoan II settlement of Myrtos Fournou Koriphi. The presence of this image, the presence of a bench structure, and the proximity of storerooms suggest that Room 92 was a shrine. The figurine is a hollow, bell-shaped image with a long, solid neck; tiny head; molded breasts; and spindly arms holding a water jug. Paint decorates the body with what appears to be a skirt, a necklace, and a pubic triangle. Although this piece looks like a kindergartener’s arts and crafts project, its identification as a deity is based on the thin neck and other nonrealistic attributes, in contrast to Early Minoan images of humans, which were basically realistic. The weird appearance puts the female outside human realms, thus, divine. Furthermore, the fragile yet unbroken condition of the figurine indicates that it could not have been useful for any “practical” functions.

The next goddess image is a figurine from a funerary complex at Koumasa dating between the Early Minoan III and Middle Minoan I periods. This is a stylized image with a simplistic head and a trapezoidal body, molded breasts, and painted clothing. Of special interest is the roll of clay around the figurine’s shoulders, which may represent a snake. As snake goddesses were common in the later Minoan repertoire, this may be the earliest portrayal of one. The fact that an early version of a snake tube was also found at the site seems to confirm this identity, as snake goddesses and tubes usually came in pairs. Four more goddess images come from the Middle Minoan. Two of these come from Phaistos on an offering table and a fruit bowl. The offering table, after being heavily restored, shows three females in full skirts dancing in a row. The two flanking females are smaller in scale than the center figure, and both look to the larger female in the center. This female (perhaps a goddess) raises her hands, in which she holds flowers, possibly lilies. All three have somewhat bird-like beaks, either indicating an animal aspect to their personae (identifying them as goddesses), or indicating that they are wearing masks (suggesting participation in religious ritual). Whether they are goddesses, priestesses, or a combination of both, the main focus of the ritual “dance” seems to be the flowers, suggesting some manner of floral, vegetal, or even spring rite (Goodison and Morris 1998, 123). The fruit bowl shows two women, skirted and beaked similarly to the ones on the offering table, gesticulating on either side of a scalloped lump in the ground, from which a female face emerges. Next to this human-headed lump is a flower. Once again, it appears that bird-beaked females are dancing on either side of some manner of supernatural female creature. Some archaeologists have suggested that the central character is a snake goddess, interpreting the scallops as snakes. However, the scallops have neither heads nor tails, so a snake identification does not seem likely. More probable is an interpretation of this center female as a flower deity. This is based on the presence of the blooming flower next to the ambiguous character, the fact that she is “growing” out of the ground, and that the same dancing figures who flanked the “flower goddess” on the offering table now flank her. Thus, we appear to have a flower goddess at Middle Minoan Phaistos.

The other two Middle Minoan images are the faience “snake goddesses” from the Temple Repositories at Knossos. One female has a snake coiled about her hat, another two wrapped about her forward-extended arms, and at least one more curling about her waist. The other, a smaller figurine with upraised arms, holds a small snake in each hand; a cat on her cap was probably added mistakenly during restoration. The sacred location, the elaborate materials and decoration, the snakes, and the gestures of these figurines all contribute to their identification as snake goddesses, suggesting that there was more than just one such goddess. Other objects found buried with the figurines were nautical—painted seashells and flying fish images—as well as faience images of mother cows and goats suckling their kids (Goodison and Morris 1998, 125). Once again, nature motifs are associated with goddess images, but now featuring animal rather than floral/vegetal life.

All of nature comes together in the goddess portrayed in the Xeste 3 Building at Akrotiri on Thera. Here, we are speaking of an island other than Crete, but the Minoans colonized at least part of Thera by 1700 b.c.e., and the iconography that emerges from Santorini is predominately Minoan in character. This goddess appears in Room 3b, in the middle of a crocus-gathering scene. Researchers can tell that she is a goddess because, first, she is seated on a tripartite shrine, a common religious motif in Minoan art. Furthermore, right behind her is a rearing griffin—a creature with the head and wings of an eagle and the body of a lion. The fact that she is attended by a magical creature emphasizes her divine status. Looking at her personal attributes, we see she wears elaborate jewelry, one necklace composed of ducks, another of dragonflies. During a lecture several years ago, one Thera excavator, Christos Doumas, suggested that the tress curling down her back is symbolic of a snake. As such, we can at least partially interpret her as an animal goddess, a potnia therôn (mistress of animals). This idea is further supported by the presence of a monkey standing before the goddess, offering her flowers. The ritual in which the goddess takes part casts light on another aspect of her persona. Behind the monkey is a girl carrying a basket of crocus stamens. She is dumping these out into a shallow basket that looks almost identical to the basket before the goddess’s feet. Thus, we might infer that the girl is dedicating flower parts to the goddess herself. Behind the goddess, and wrapping around the adjacent wall of the room, are more young women gathering crocuses and carrying baskets of flowers to the goddess. It appears that what is taking place is a (perhaps annual) gathering of crocus stamens, also called saffron, which are being ritually offered to the goddess. This would suggest that in addition to being an animal deity, the Xeste 3 goddess is some manner of floral deity, a divine type well attested to in the Minoan world. However, one must remember that saffron served several important functions in the ancient Mediterranean, ranging from the medicinal to the culinary to the textile (being a common source of yellow dye). Any or all of these may have fallen under the auspices of the goddess, suggesting she was some manner of “great goddess” of nature. Further examples of Minoan goddess iconography are present in glyptic art, scenes that appear on jewelry such as signet rings. Although only a tiny amount of detail is possible in this medium, it is evident that religious scenes featuring goddesses take place out of doors. Sometimes the goddess is standing (or hovering) in a field of flowers, as on a sealing discovered at Mycenae but clearly showing Minoan iconography. At other times, she is in a more “constructed” environment, with a paved floor and a tripartite shrine, as on an example from Archanes (Goodison and Morris 1998, 129). Even on this latter example, however, the presence of a tree growing right out of the shrine still places the religious scene in a natural setting, strengthening our notion of a goddess/goddesses of nature. It would appear that the Minoan goddesses were associated with flowers, trees, snakes, monkeys, and even birds—in short, they were nature goddesses. But, we must remember that for the Minoans, there was not really a life outside of the natural (unlike today, when people go camping or hiking to “get back to nature”). For the Minoans, to be a goddess of nature implied being a goddess of life, health, sustenance, healing, technology, and the economy.”

 - The Ancient Greeks: New Perspectives, by Stephanie Lynn Budin

#minoan religion #minoan art #iconography #goddesses #quotes #excerpts

[cypriathus]

A son of J’Tervazoschin and a daughter of Blodeghuta/Schuzelonta.

Numphoktezrija W’Vheplaktobrinus, born as J’Pluchabtokreszind, is a nature and fertility god who possesses a capricious temperament that reflects the ever-changing state of earth. Due to his exceptional ability to endure hardship without complaining and showing emotion, he’s very resilient and virtuous. He’s able to appropriately discern and judge by using his past experiences and personal knowledge. He can effectively face and deal with negative situations that involve danger and/or fear without succumbing to cowardice. He possesses a strong, contemplative mind and practises abstinence, which prevents himself from indulging in extreme behaviours. Numphoktezrija is fairly patient with others, deeply grounded in his loyalty, and immensely thorough when it comes to decision-making. He extrudes a palpable sense of security that allows people to mostly trust his discreet integrity and moral uprightness. He’s carefully diligent, always seeking to do his godly tasks well and to take obligations seriously. As a nurturer, he usually provides encouragement, support, and protection to those who greatly respect him and his family, and treats nature with utmost care.

He has a trapezoidal ectomorphic body type with slightly broad shoulders, a muscular chest, a partially rounded belly, and six arms, and he’s smaller than his two mothers, nearing 53’ 8” (1635.76 cm). His back is covered by a fleshy pseudo-parasite that has a three-horned bovine skull, a malnourished human torso, lion front legs, horse hindlegs, and a short, segmented, blade-tipped tail. He has a pinecone-like face, mottled wood owl wings in place of his ears, and the four horns of a Jacob sheep. Numphoktezrija’s lower half is made up of 30 southern blue-ringed octopus tentacles and his hair is an eastern blue with streaks of whisper, muddy waters, and spring rain. He often decorates his hair with braids, dewdrops, golden rings, honeysuckles, oxeye daisies, and oriental lilies. On each palm of his six clawed hands, he has glistening fern green eyes with slit pupils that change their size and shape based on brightness and emotion. He possesses viridian green skin with milky white segmental vitiligo and a large yellow-greenish birthmark that spans from his right shoulder blade to his rectus abdominis. He wears a velvety shawl that covers half of his torso and it’s covered in dyed bird feathers of warm green, yellow, red-orange, peachy pink, and light brown. Each arm has two armlets decorated with bloodstone and dalmatian jasper, and he’s donning a neck gaiter made from muscaliet fur. Numphoktezrija has a garnet adder stone necklace, a gilded enamel ouroboros brooch, and seven rings: in the first pair, a peridot signet ring on his right index finger, a septarian statement ring on his left index finger, and a bronze knot ring on his left middle finger; in the second pair, a mahogany obsidian cocktail ring on his right middle finger and a golden dome ring on his left ring finger; in the third pair, a fire opal solitaire ring on his right ring finger; and in the fourth pair, a rose quartz ring on his left index finger.

Similar to his earthly mother, he possesses supernatural strength, durability, stamina, agility, dexterity, and senses. He has the ability to manipulate the beauty of nature, the cycle of life and death, equilibrium, land, agriculture, volcanoes, forests, mountains, gentle and harsh winds, rainstorms, dew, reproduction, childbirth, and virility. He can lull people to sleep by using zephyr and mentally grow, nurture, and rejuvenate plant life. Due to lacking a mouth, Numphoktezrija can telepathically communicate with sentient beings by accessing their thoughts and dreams. He possesses absolute charisma, an indomitable will, and night vision, and he can shoot disease-causing arrows from his eyes and use rain, crop fields, and soil to teleport.

FAMILY:

Valczebjowius Ktumedjoszripa Ubajnozlekith Y’Ziphjaloktebus (grandparent)

Ymabjeloszivth Muleszorvintha Ebhiktosjuzar H’Ustewjoldzrian (half-uncle)

Nerjzluhtopiad Vuktezosphrija Utsakzojebhrin J’Waschebokzurvi (half-uncle)

Jagenozlithus V’Zilsjabkowunther (half-cousin)

Burthaloszige X’Uljaszobektrind (half-cousin)

Braktunghel F’Glophrajzedinus (half-cousin)

Olemaphinus F’Vokhtajebzrindus (half-cousin)

Tarixokhumen Y’Wiscaplonzrute (half-cousin)

Skhuzeloma P’Ktedzubovhrija (half-cousin)

Mingefolszurcha P’Vtadzercholwinbus (half-cousin)

Kelubaprithon T’Virchabejzoldus (half-cousin)

Xushevoriand W’Tilvazhjobrumen (half-cousin)

Mekhzunogila K’Tuljazospherd (half-cousin)

Nehuscoma J’Placheboktringus (half-cousin)

Luskophenda X’Priktalojzendus (half-cousin)

Hipenostruma P’Gektazloschurvi (half-cousin)

Mornelukha K’Phtavrijozlendus (half-cousin)

Lemuszonda P’Vusglaktozerji (half-cousin)

Eysphuxonda B’Ysilazrothunde (half-cousin)

Buthelomiva X’Jelwazhosturvi (half-cousin)

Anerholux K’Trocazlephindus (half-cousin)

Phudebronta W’Zihtakorsplune (half-cousin)

Eynthamobius T’Vulkephjobrisza (half-cousin)

Rhanozemius W’Zeljaktobhrinus (half-cousin)

Pscetrahozux M’Wuktaphojzergin (half-cousin)

Uysceporaith Z’Mulpevosithraj (half-cousin)

Atumebhiko X’Wehtazoscubrim (half-cousin)

Kuladozen V’Goljaktedzirmus (half-cousin)

Izesoluhar W’Xolchaktezrinus (half-cousin)

1000+ half-female cousins (?)

1000+ half-male cousins (?)

Zluskemophixa Guwaszhoktedin Oylkebursziah W’Knadzrijophetus (half-aunt)

Povichulaszred K’Golszenthurvija (uncle)

Kladjewoszruni M’Zihtepolvudja (mother)

680 cousins (?)

926 great-cousins (?)

Wenathropius Y’Kleghuboszria (half-uncle) 

Palemozinus Y’Blaphjektowinus (half-uncle)

Ayselonuth Y’Worvajektzinus (half-aunt)

Himanotrude Etluszoripha (aunt)

Äylcephinozur (cousin)

Blodeghuta L’Ægorvinus/Schuzelonta Chatzerbodius (aunt)

Melchjuszrovibta T’Xuljabhoszervi (cousin)

J’Tervazoschin Iazophetus (mother)

Buhemozrita (older half-brother)

Liwatozhendus (older half-sister)

Zekwaboruchni (older half-sibling)

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

God of Untainted Balance Amongst The Cyclical Life

Lord of the Gap Between Heaven and Earth

A Lullaby From The Gentle Zephyr

Ruler of Callous Volcanoes and Tranquil Meadows

His Ever-Changing Temperament

A Dream That Continuously Repeats

He Who Desires Mutual Equilibrium

J’Pluchabo (by most people)

Numphokte (by most people)

W’Vheplakto (by most people)

Numplaktobri (by a few people)

Phoktelaszri (by a few people)

Kreszinda (by a few people)

Kteszrija (by a few people)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

It’s unknown if he possesses more unique abilities than the ones he usually uses or have been seen utilising.

It’s unknown why he prefers to go by Numphoktezrija W’Vheplaktobrinus

He’s mute

As an Æylphitus, his birth name means “coiled wreath that prunes a bleeding oak, scale-licker between groaning dust and moonstruck truths or thriving dance of cloud and mud”. In regards to his new name, Numphoktezrija means “prophet of the dream pillar and star wolf, moistener above the ferocious disease or luminescent hurricane” and W’Vheplaktobrinus means “time-changer dancing amongst our miraculous harvest, pentahedron who swallows the moonstruck abyss, gleaming muse of a howler’s poison or one-eyed slumberer”.

His sacred animals are the ox, cassowary, stag, tortoise, elephant, pig, echidna, muscaliet, rock monitor, and copper-backed horsefly.

His sacred plants are the black-eyed Susan, honeysuckle, coneflower, mandrake, myrrh, hawthorn, wormwood, ivy, and fern.

His sacred stones are garnet, bloodstone, peridot, alexandrite, opal, fire agate, black tourmaline, mahogany obsidian, and dalmatian jasper.

Melchjuszrovibta T’Xuljabhoszervi is a watery, nomadic warrior goddess and she prefers to not show much emotion, making her appear unfriendly and unsympathetic. She’s fairly restrained in speech and strongly confident to say what she believes is right, while preparing herself to accept and fix her wrongs. She’s well-equipped to utilise her impressive emotional intelligence, self-awareness, and inner strength when needed. She has an endurance for hardship and isn’t easily influenced by external pressures and social conventions. This means that Melchjuszrovibta can stay rational and make sound decisions, especially when dealing with stressful and difficult situations. She constantly seeks change and excitement in order to maintain her inspirational liveliness and infectious enthusiasm. She possesses an adventurous spirit as well as a willingness to stand up for herself and show her assertiveness. She sometimes demonstrates a compulsion to control and dominate any situation she personally encounters. She prefers to remain enigmatic and she has a proclivity toward sensitivity, regularly taking things to heart.

She has an inverted triangle mesomorphic body type with muscular limbs, broad shoulders, and a fairly defined waist, and she’s noticeably smaller than her mother, clocking in at 75 ft (2286 cm). Melchjuszrovibta’ skin is like a glowing ember with blackish freckles on her face, neck, chest, and upper arms. She has Tibetan antelope horns, common octopus tentacles protruding from her upper back, and a coiling tail with sharp, iridescent scales as well as the colouration and fins of a sand tiger shark. She also has anisodactyl-like feet, six-fingered hands, shimmering purple claws and talons, and four frilled gill slits below each side of her ribcage. Her four eyes are an amber with horizontal silvery garnet pupils, and she has a carnivorous mouth, two serpentine tongues, and pointed ears. She has silky, wet-looking hair of light mahogany brown with voluminous curls, which is decorated with seashells. Melchjuszrovibta has a coral cuirass that depicts the Lernaean Hydra with seven heads that are spread out in a semi-circle. She dons extremely baggy pants that are gathered a bit below the knees with separate short cuffs of four rows of beaded golden pearls. Her baggy, ballooning pants have a stunning gradient of blumine, pelorous, hippie blue, and aqua island. Near the bottoms of each pant leg are adorned with London hue and puce waves with white foam. She has a saffron sash encircling her waist, tied in a square knot, with both ends hanging to near-ground level. She possesses gilt-brass armlets and anklets that are decorated with azurite and pink tourmaline. She dons a few pieces of jewellery: bronze neck rings; a necklace with a Scapanorhynchus texanus tooth; a chrysoprase hololith bracelet on her right; a black onyx cocktail ring on her right index finger; and a cinnabar solitaire ring on her left middle finger. Melchjuszrovibta is often carrying a purplish wooden kite shield and a serpentine dagger with either a trident made from solidified freshwater or a bronze shepherd’s crook.

She possesses a gorgeous voice of prophecy, wisdom and memory that is far greater than a mortal’s, and the ability to effortlessly change her shape into living organisms. She can manipulate the natural beauty and majestic wonders of the sea, water, lakes, rivers, ponds, waves, and sea creatures. She has supernatural strength, durability, endurance, stamina, dexterity, and senses, and she has regenerative healing abilities. Melchjuszrovibta can move through the water swiftly, breathe underwater and on land, calm the oceans, still the winds, and hypnotise people through her alluring voice. She’s able to use freshwater and the gentle breeze to teleport, and to telekinetically interact with matter.

FAMILY:

Himanotrude Etluszoripha (aunt)

Äylcephinozur (cousin)

J’Tervazoschin Iazophetus (aunt)

Numphoktezrija W’Vheplaktobrinus (cousin)

Buhemozrita (cousin)

Liwatozhendus (cousin)

Zekwaboruchni (cousin)

Unnamed father

Blodeghuta L’Ægorvinus/Schuzelonta Chatzerbodius (mother)

ALIASES/NICKNAMES:

Goddess of the Pilgrim War, Coastal Waters, and Blistering Deserts

A Breeze Rippling Through Her Oceanic Surface

She of Exotic Spices and Fishy Miasma

Delinquent That Soars Above Her Waves

Crusader With A Gloomy Voice

Forlorn Sand-Crawler

Melchjaszo (by most people)

T’Xuljabhok (by most people)

Bhoszurveja (by most people)

Zrovejubita (by a few people)

Zobastervi (by a few people)

FUN FACTS/EXTRA INFORMATION:

It’s unknown if she possesses more innate abilities than the ones she often utilises or have been seen using.

As an Æylphitus, the different parts of her name have special meanings: Melchjuszrovibta means “priestess who devours the aborted solitude, billowing sphinx of twilight dominance or hedonistic megalith” and T’Xuljabhoszervi means “echoing plethora beneath a woeful storm, sentinel crawling above putrid brimstone, leviathan of shrieking brightness or shepherd’s phosphorescence”.

Her sacred animals are the sand tiger shark, vampire crab, sea turtle, orca, starfish, pelican, lamb, scitalis, unicorn, and amphisbaena.

Her sacred plants are the eucalyptus, gardenia, jasmine, mugwort, belladonna, chamomile, and horsetail reed.

Her sacred stones are selenite, chrysoprase, cinnabar, azurite, fluorite, black onyx, blue calcite, and pink tourmaline.

#writerscorner #writing #creative writing #original character #personality #physical appearance #outfit #abilities #power #deity #god #goddess #nature #ocean #sea #lovecraftian #fun facts #extra information

[birbs-in-space]

woo I've got 3 of 4 crochet projects done! I'm taking a quick break before i return to the final one, but here's what I've been working on for the past month!

brief explanation: a friend of mine talked me into putting together some crochet stuff for the fiber arts part of my local fair! all submissions are due may 26th (including photography and art, which I'm going to figure out after I'm done with my crochet work) so I've been scrambling ever since finishing up with my dcrb stuff

the first of the projects is an elephant themed handbag. it's technically a bit of a collab with a friend of mine who came up with the initial idea and is going to be dealing with the interfacing and the lining, so I'm going to have to sort out how to represent that in the submission but

here's what it will look like, minus the ears, tail, and feet. i photographed it before sending it off to her! i also made a trial bag ahead of time

i also made this to trial run my design ideas. it's got some major flaws though i do actually like the head shape more lol even though I spent a LOT of time trying to make the final one work properly.

project 2 is these parols! if you're unfamiliar, an actual parole is a star-shaped paper lantern made in the philippines as a christmas decoration. now i can't make paper lanterns but i can make these, which i did, based off of a design i worked out last Christmas to make some as a gift for my mom. most of these were made using lily sugar and cream yarn which was a Huge Mistake lol.

project 3, which i actually finished a while ago before finishing up the parols are these...things. it's a bit tricky to explain but basically i made these both for fun and as an experiment to test out the capabilities and limitations of chatgpt. if you're somewhat familiar with me, you'll know I'm a programmer by career. which means i have to keep abreast of technological developments NOT because i need them for my job, but because i WILL get pestered by other people who think i know the answer (a bit of a self fulfilling prophecy, that). plus, machine learning is a bit fun cause it's a) it's fun to see it flop and flail around cause it doesn't actually know shit and b) it's a fascinating reflection of the world we've created and the failures and limitations of the structures we create to define and control it.

which is to say that i asked it for various patterns with varying levels of specificity and oversight and crocheted what it gave me with varying levels of "forgiveness" (damn thing doesn't even tell me where to sew or attach things most of the time). IF my submission is accepted, I'm hoping they'll let me submit some explanations to go with lol. and also after finishing the last pattern, which i generated maybe 2 weeks ago, I've finished off the project in solidarity with WGA and the newly unionized "AI" content moderators.

(the most powerful tool i think i have personally is my ability to explain why chatgpt and it's siblings are so limited in their ability and why people ought to be careful implementing them in any meaningful way)

so now that I've adequately proved that i am not a tech bro, actually. observe: my children

the absolutely comical moray eel

i requested a separate jaw piece and that it be long and thin. it gave me this in the silliest way possible.

yes the fins are all wrong and the body is weirdly twisted. i don't know why it gave me a trapezoidal panel. it didn't even tell me to make a tube out of it or how but idk what else i couldve possibly done. anyway, i love him

next, a small collection of flowers.

one looks like a sunny side up egg but pink. chat gpt claimed the one on the left was specifically supposed to be a rose, which is genuinely funny. it's a flower doily, at best, and not even a good one at that.

poppy, orange

im actually quite impressed by these, especially the poppy petals and the leaf of the orange (though the orange is rather flat... i squished it in a bit for the sake of the picture. also check out that stem. wild.)

mystery patterns 1 and 2

these were supposed to resemble actual things, when i was done with them. they do not.

my beloved pill quail

the pattern actually had the dots misaligned because it miscounted the number of stitches in the round, making the instructions mathematically impossible. for the sake of not accidentally creating a physical impossibility and plunging the world into a spontaneously generated black hole, i decided to fix it instead. though that didn't stop my poor quail from literally being capsule shaped, having coffin shaped wings, and the largest quail beak ever. i actually was very specific about this pattern and had to ask it for modifications and answer regenerations a lot (if you do this, you'll find that the average crochet pattern it makes is JUST outside the bounds of it's character limit), so the fact it turned out so funny looking will never not be hilarious to me

mushrooms

for the first, it actually just gave me a panel for the stem, but not cylindrifying it made no sense. for the second it literally just gave me two balls but the nature of crochet balls is you can kinda squish them into shapes.

the "flower basket"

i asked it for an idea to put into the fair, it gave me the flower basket—a small, deflated ball. 10/10. the biggest failure, which is why I love it so

the water lily

it did not adequately tell me how to put the petals onto the circular back panel (which it called the flower). I'd say what i did is probably what it was going for, but it's literally incapable of going for anything. that's not how text predictive models work. and fun fact! no water lily patterns on the internet look like this

self-representation

if chatgpt looked like a little crochet guy, it would look like this, according to it. (once you get past it insisting that if has no visible/physical form) apologies for the very mediocre glasses—i did not get into this hobby to embroider. i am very specifically not good at that. also it's feet were literally too big to have it NOT be sitting. and i did ask for the size safety eyes i should use, which is why they're so small lmfao

and finally:

Ert the hedgehog. it told me i COULD add spikes by using a crochet hook to add yarn at the top of its head. it did not tell me how. so i did that...for at LEAST as much time as it took to make the rest of it. Ert is my newest scapegoat whenever i have a problem. also i forgot to style his spikes for this photo lmaoo

bonus:

#new post #crochetposting #i think i shall put any crochet related projects in that tag now #ok I'm gonna zone out for a bit and then get back to project 4 #i was at work nearly 12 hours yesterday so I'd like a bit of a break lol

[albert83feddersen]

High Quality Replica Bvlgari Watches Archives

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[2hoothoots]

Just wanted to say that I absolutely adore how you draw Older!Raz. The energy you give to his facial features is so expressive and I love how dynamic the lines-of-action are in his posing, even when he's doing something fairly restrained/static. He feels like A Guy That Moves and his mood/thought process comes through in his body language even at a glance.

thank you so much!!

my biggest inspiration for how i draw older Raz is the eponymous Lupin from Lupin III. i just love the energy in the character design and acting; there's a kind of looseness but also so much motion these noodle-y poses, like a rubber band or a coiled spring. like, look at these, these are so great!!! that motion and energy is exactly the thing i try to capture when I'm drawing FSAU Raz, so I'm really glad to hear i hit my mark!

#when i'm drawing the trio i try to give all three of them their own shape language #lili is a trapezoid #dogen is a circle #and raz is a cooked piece of spaghetti someone threw at a wall #BUT FOR REAL thank you so much! those are really kind words #i'm still picking away at learning to draw humans so it means a lot to hear i'm getting some of it right lol #ask

[madam-melon-meow]

Bisexual Kyoshi is something that can be so personal, actually

Panel edit by @flagellasturbation

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. On the left in the image is a close-up of Kyoshi from the torso up, contained within an upside-down trapezoid shape. She wears her full battle uniform of olive and emerald robes, dark gloves and bracers, and a golden headpiece in a fan-like shape. Her eyes are the same emerald shade as her robes, she has black hair billowing to the left edge of the image, and her black eyebrows have been dramatically lengthened by black face paint. Her face and neck are artificially whitened with chalky makeup, she has black winged eyeliner, red eyeshadow that sweeps upwards to her temples and down the sides of her nose, and red lipstick outlined in black. This is the classic Kyoshi makeup. Her arms are crossed, the left arm behind her head pointing a golden fan away from the viewer, the right arm extended in front of her face, another golden fan pointed towards the viewer. She appears to be looking upwards and towards the right of the image. Above Kyoshi’s eye level and in the top right of the image is a comic text box. It reads in all caps: “even avatar Kyoshi- who by all accounts loved men and women- was unable to effect any kind of real progress.” The background art and color has been replaced with the Bisexual Flag, a thick horizontal line of pink on top, stopping at Kyoshi’s cheek level, then a thinner line of purple ending at her shoulders, and a thick line of blue that extends to the bottom of the image. End I.D.]

(If someone does not find my image I.D. sufficient, please let me know. This is my first time trying to make such a thing, as i am a lurker, not a poster)

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 99 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

““Are those . . . fire lilies?” he said, a wide, knowing grin spreading across his face.

Kyoshi flushed beet red. “Stop it,” she said.

“That’s right,” Yun said. “The Ember Island tourism minister brought a bunch when he visited two weeks ago. I can’t believe you simply shred the flowers once they dry out. I guess nothing goes to waste in this house.”

“Knock it off,” Kyoshi snapped. But it was too hard keeping the corners of her lips from curling upward.

“Knock what off?” he said, enjoying her reaction. “I’m just commenting on a fragrance I’ve come to particularly enjoy.”

It was an inside reference that only the two of them shared. Rangi didn’t know. She hadn’t been there in the gifting room eight months ago while Kyoshi arranged a vast quantity of fire lilies sent by an admiral in the Fire Navy, one of Hei-Ran’s friends.

Yun had spent the afternoon watching Kyoshi work. Against every scrap of her better judgment, she’d allowed him to lie down on the floor and rest his head in her lap while she plucked deformed leaves and trimmed stems to the right length. Had anyone caught the two of them like that, there would have been a scandal that not even the Avatar could have recovered from.

That day, entranced by Yun’s upside-down features dappled with the flower petals she’d teasingly sprinkled over his face, she’d almost leaned down and kissed him. And he knew it. Because he’d almost reached up and kissed her.

They never spoke of it afterward, the shared impulse that had nearly crashed both of their carriages. It was too . . . well, they each had their duties was a good way to put it. That moment did not fit anywhere among their responsibilities.

But since then, whenever the two of them were in the presence of fire lilies, Yun’s eyes would dart toward the flowers repeatedly until he was sure Kyoshi noticed. She would try unsuccessfully to keep a straight face, the heat coloring her neck, and he’d sigh as if to mourn what could have been.

Today was no different. With a wistful blush on his own cheeks, Yun stared her down until her defenses broke and she let out a giggle through her nose.

“There’s that beautiful smile,” he said. He pressed his heels into the floor, sliding up against the wall, and straightened his rumpled shirt. “Kyoshi, trust me when I say this: If it turns out not to be me, I’ll be glad it’s you.”

~~~~~~~~~

Rise of Kyoshi by F.C. Yee, page 210 (text copy / pasted from the b&n ebook version)

“You think you don’t deserve peace and happiness and good things, but you do!” Rangi yelled. “You, Kyoshi! Not the Avatar, but you!”

She closed the distance and wrapped her arms around Kyoshi’s waist. The embrace was a clever way to hide her face.

“Do you have any idea how painful it’s been for me to follow you on this journey where you’re so determined to punish yourself?” she said. “Watching you treat yourself like an empty vessel for revenge, when I’ve known you since you were a servant girl who couldn’t bend a pebble? The Avatar can be reborn. But you can’t, Kyoshi. I don’t want to give you up to the next generation. I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Kyoshi realized she’d had it all wrong. Rangi was a true believer. But her greatest faith had been for her friends, not her assignment. She pulled Rangi in closer. She thought she heard a slight, contented sigh come from the other girl.

“I wish I could give you your due,” Rangi muttered after some time had passed. “The wisest teachers. Armies to defend you. A palace to live in.”

Kyoshi raised an eyebrow. “The Avatar gets a palace?”

“No, but you deserve one.”

“I don’t need it,” Kyoshi said. She smiled into Rangi’s hair, the soft strands caressing her lips. “And I don’t need an army. I have you.”

Psh,” Rangi scoffed. “A lot of good I’ve been so far. If I were better at my job you would never feel scared. Only loved. Adored by all.”

Kyoshi gently nudged Rangi’s chin upward. She could no more prevent herself from doing this than she could keep from breathing, living, fearing.

“I do feel loved,” she declared.

Rangi’s beautiful face shone in reflection. Kyoshi leaned in and kissed her.

A warm glow mapped Kyoshi’s veins. Eternity distilled in a single brush of skin. She thought she would never be more alive than now.

And then—

The shock of hands pushing her away. Kyoshi snapped out of her trance, aghast.

Rangi had flinched at the contact. Repelled her. Viscerally, reflexively.

Oh no. Oh no.

This couldn’t—not after everything they’d been through—this couldn’t be how it—

Kyoshi shut her eyes until they hurt. She wanted to shrink until she vanished within the cracks of the earth. She wanted to become dust and blow away in the wind.

But the sound of laughter pulled her back. Rangi was coughing, drowning herself with her own tears and mirth. She caught her breath and retook Kyoshi by the hips, turning to the side, offering up the smooth, unblemished skin of her throat.

“That side of my face is busted up, stupid,” she whispered in the darkness. “Kiss me where I’m not hurt.”

~~~~~

I include both these quotes because i've seen a few posts about the “gigantic lesbian” avatar, and although i am glad my sapphic sisters feel connected to Kyoshi (as well they should!), that doesn't mean i wish to simply be quiet on the matter of her textual bisexuality. I understand that not everyone has read her novels, nor has everyone read legend of Korra comics, but Kyoshi is *textually* bisexual.

Kyoshi had a loving romantic relationship with her firebending friend Rangi, but this does not erase her feelings for her earthbending friend Yun, even if neither of them were able to properly express it due to their respective “status”. (For context if you haven’t read, the masters believed that Yun was the avatar, and though he was bodyguarded by Rangi, and though Kyoshi was his servent, the three of them were simiar ages and thus close friends until the discovery of Kyoshi’s true ability destroyed their former lives). Hell, Kyoshi and Rangi do not become intimate until after fleeing their former lives. Who is to say what would have happened, had Yun not been captured by father glowworm ?

I know that there is a chance you will scoff at this, will write this off as comphet, accuse me of disproportionately weighting an almost-kiss with a true relationship, but these above quotes (as well as the comic panel from “the legend of korra: turf wars- part 1”) serve as proof that Kyoshi, “by all accounts loved men and women” (see panel directly below)

[image I.D. : the same comic panel as the edit above, this one without the bisexual flag edited in. Directly behind Kyoshi, within the upside-down trapezoid shape, is an olive to lime gradient, darker around her head and lighter near the bottom. Around and to the right in the image, outside of the trapezoid, is an aerial shot of buildings within an Earth Kingdom city, and what appears to be the lines of troops on the ground far below. the text box in the image is the same, but I have underlined the word “men” in blue, the word “and” in purple, and the word “women” in pink, to reflect the bisexual flag. End I.D.]

I am making such a big deal over this because Kyoshi is a massive figure, her long shadow cast over Aang’s life alongside Roku’s, and even before her novels came out there were often jokes about her “bloodthirsty” nature. I implore you to read the novels and see why Kyoshi believed in deadly justice at times, but also so you can see what a dynamic, loving, and beautiful character she is.

Some members of fandom have taken a “step on me” attitude towards Kyoshi, who has, even if the 7 feet tall thing is more fanon than canon, been explicitly described as “exceptionally tall”, and “towering” over others. This “strong woman who will break me and I thank them” attitude is one that butch &/or physically imposing sapphics, as well as trans women with similar statures to Kyoshi have expressed discomfort when applied to themselves and characters like them. I would love for more people to acknowledge her flaws and multi-faceted nature, that she is more than a “warrior goddess”, just as Aang is more than a living relic. Flattening her out to the easily-fetishable parts erases the depth of her character and the complexity of circumstances that led to the instances of deadly force.

There are very few bisexual characters in media, especially women, and especially in children’s media. Bisexual women have often been caricatured as loose, promiscuous, good for a threesome and not much else. (This is mot to say that i think any lesser of my fellow bisexuals who are proudly promiscious, nor can an actual live bisexual person be considered a stereotype for living their life, but media’s portayal of us as obsessed with desire is incredibly harmful). Knowing that a strong, beautiful, and important character in the avatar universe is a bisexual woman is amazing, even more so to have her first lady-love described in the novels with such care. F. C. Yee, the author of these novels, has my eternal gratitude. I sincerely hope that the new generation of fans, whether they are drawn to the cartoon or even the hypothetical live action show, will pick up these novels and discover the kind of bisexual character that I wish existed in my early days as a reader, and if a small fraction of them resonate with Kyoshi’s reciprocal on Yun and love for Rangi, then the world becomes a little bit brighter for it.

I mentioned her importance for the simple reason that Kyoshi IS important with the text of ATLA. As one of the avatars, she is one of the most historically important figures in that universe, one of the few avatars that Aang knows by name, and one of the only avatars to speak through his body. The fact that she has two whole novels to herself testifies to that effect, making her bisexual representation all the more important than a simple background character might be. 

If or when the ATLA live action tv show occurs, we can expect some mention of Kyoshi. After all, there is a whole episode dedicated to exploring one of her missions, and the way that the descendants of her enemy have recolored history. It is my sincere desire that enough discussion is made about her canon bisexuality , that fandom trumphets it from the roof with as much force as crackshipping zukka, that when she does make it to the screen, there is some subtle nod in her bisexuality’s direction, even if it is something as meta as casting a bisexual actress for her. Thank you for taking the time to read this.

edit by @flagellasturbation​

[image I.D. : An edit of a comic panel of avatar Kyoshi. This is like the first image, Kyoshi and the text box of the comic panel untouched, the background color and art replaced with the bisexual flag. However, this version has the words “by all accounts” blown up large and placed diagonally in the image, directly under Kyoshi’s face and stretching from one side of the image to the other. The bottom third of the image is similarly obscured, the words  “men” , “and” , “women” blown up large enough to fill the panel and cover most of Kyoshi’s torso, as well as the purple and blue areas of the background flag. End I.D.]

#Avatar Kyoshi #Rangi #Yun #The Rise of Kyoshi #The Shadow of Kyoshi #father glowworm #bisexual

[casuallyimagining]

사랑해

Jeon Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You go on a trip and return with two surprises. Genre: Fluff Notes: Part of the Long Term Couples series.  Read more here

Jungkook was playing with your hand again.

Honestly, you didn’t mind. He always had to be doing something, and when the two of you were cuddled together on the couch or in bed, that something was usually playing with your hands.

You had only gotten home an hour ago. Your bag from your trip to see your family still sat by the door. He had had a bad couple of weeks, that much you knew. His allergies were acting up, and his stylist wanted him to grow his hair out and it was currently at that awkward length where it was too short to do the new style properly but too long to style it like he used to, so he was grumpy and congested.

You weren’t surprised when you walked in the door and he wrapped you immediately in a bone crushing hug. He had held you in the doorway for a while, Kimchi jumping at your legs. He had mumbled how much he missed you, and then he had dragged you to the couch.

And there you stayed, his arm draped snugly over your shoulders. Jungkook had turned on the television, and you were watching some stupid YouTube video, but really, neither of you were paying attention. With your free hand, you were scrolling through the emails you had blatantly ignored over the past week. Most were from Sejin, some were from the team’s stylists updating the PR team and management on the boys’ various looks. None were immediately important.

Jungkook traced his finger around your wrist, following the edge of your watch band. When he got to your inner wrist, you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. You watched his head tilt quickly--you would have thought he had gotten a chill had you not known better. He hummed in question, his finger hovering over a spot on your skin.

“Orange?” You resisted the smile threatening to spread across your face, pretending to be interested in the video that had autoplayed from his Watch Later playlist. His finger shifted to another spot on your wrist just below your watch band. “Green?’

You turned to him then, raising an eyebrow. “What did you say?”

“Green,” he repeated, poking the little bit of green peeking out from under your watch. “Orange.” He poked the bit of orange.

“So it is.”

“What is it?”

You shrugged, turning your attention back to the video. He huffed out a sigh, and you could almost imagine his tongue poking into his cheek in frustration. But he fell silent and his eyes focused on the television.

After a minute, you felt his finger playing with the closure of your watch, his curiosity getting the best of him. You let yourself smile at that. It only took a couple seconds for him to loosen the buckle and to get the silicone band apart. His eyes remained on the television as he tapped your shoulder with your own watch. You took it from him, knowing he would just keep hitting you with it if you didn’t.

Jungkook picked your hand up and turned your wrist so that he could better inspect it. He ran his finger gently over the line work, his mouth set in concentration.

You hadn’t even considered that he wouldn’t like it. He had so many tattoos. Surely he wouldn’t care if you got one. Based on his reactions, you weren’t so confident anymore.

The lines were fairly delicate. A trapezoid and its mate, mirrored twins of each other. In the foreground, three flowers--two blooms and one pod--orange and brown with green stems and leaves. The whole thing was no larger than two inches tall.

“When did this happen?” he asked finally. His tone was playful. You could almost hear a smile in his voice.

You hummed. “Day after I got there? My friend knows a guy.”

“You happy with it?” You nodded. “Good.” His finger brushed over it again.

“Do you like it?” You pulled away so you could look at him fully.

“Babe, I don’t really think my opinion matters on this one.” Jungkook laughed, loud and giggly. “But yeah, I… I like it.”

“Yeah?”

The goofiest, shyest smile you’d ever seen spread across his lips, the sheer force of it causing his nose to scrunch up and his eyes to crinkle. He looked so happy in that moment, you couldn’t help but smile, too. Silently, he pulled you back to him, his lips connecting to your forehead.

“We match,” he mumbled against your hairline, twisting his right arm so his own lily tattoo was more visible peeking out from under the rolled up sleeves of his sweater. You giggled, tracing the lines of the tattoo on his forearm. He looked at your tattoo again and hummed. “I know this is a little late, but… are you sure? It’s quite the statement to permanently make.”

You nodded, letting your head fall against him. “You’re my person. You’ve always been my person. I think even if we were to stop talking tomorrow, I would still want this tattoo.” Your finger traced over the ‘Please love me’ of his own tattoo.

“Really?”

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I? I love you.”

Jungkook froze, his head tilted toward you slightly. You could just barely see his face in your periphery, and his eyes were blown wide in surprise. You had said it so casually, it seemed like he was having a difficult time processing it.

“You…?” He blushed, a wide, shy smile blooming across his face. One of his hands came up to his face and curled into a fist just in front of his ear.

You pulled away from him so that you could look him in the eyes. “I should have told you that a while ago. But I just…” You shrugged. “I don’t know why I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. But I do. Love you, I mean. So much.”

Jungkook smiled and pulled you into a tight hug. “I know. You didn’t have to say it.” He pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “I’m glad you did, though.”

Read more of the series here

#jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungguk #jungguk x reader #jung kook #jung kook x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts jungkook #bts jungkook x reader

[withoneheadlight]

| a house (is a home) | (i). the keys | (ii). memories&herons | (iii). old dogs&inheritances | (iv). memorabilia | tinyplaylist |

~

The kitchen’s Steve’s favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does but, they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old-fashioned and fiercely cute none of them says a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because “I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests”

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally deigns to pay them a visit, his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed.)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it but, he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It’s a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue, when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, nibbles a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting”, “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he wants to make Billy squirm a little too. 

It’s a heart-warming, welcoming feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the taste of love on Billy’s lips. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavor into Billy’s mouth with his:

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it’s just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that–

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiral of the eight, pointing towards infinity. And then grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there, flooding into summer: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard in an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold. 

It’s the moment the day turns into a fire. 

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of July, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti Carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry on faraway almost-night on a faraway July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays in asymmetric halves. 

Billy takes off the apron. Turns the stove down.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Do I scare you or what?“

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen––

“¿Can I have this dance?” 

Steve walks to him, takes his hand. 

––Their bodies, pressed flush. 

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running. 

(“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky.

“Billy, I don’t have to––” 

“Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”)

They made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.)

In this light, they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back. 

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backward till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their tangled arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, noses at the warmth trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture-perfect from this magical moment onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang” 

(Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called,

“Find him. Please.. Make sure he’s alright”

When Steve found him, Billy was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet stumbling on the twin yellow lines, following them nowhere. So weary, so impossibly small like this: head hanging, arms wrapped around himself. A crooked shape, carrying the weight of the shadows the tall pine trees cast on his back.  

So unlike him. 

Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the icy mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? This is dangerous” And Billy’s spine had bent even lower, forearms finding rest on the window frame. Leveling with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, never going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve–– hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye.

Those weren’t from the crash.

 “I was sleepwalking, Harrington” he said, voice dry, laugh harsh. Shrugged “Waiting for a lucky strike”)

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

(When he took Billy to his house Max was already there. Had sneaked out. “Neil will kill you if he finds out,” Billy said and she nodded, white knuckles peaking red with how hard she was gripping the handler of her bike, and Steve hadn’t seen her cry before, not ever, but her eyes were swollen and wet and,

“Are you––”

“I’m alright, kiddo. You know me. I’m always alright”

And the lie sat heavy, between them. Two lies, covering the truth. Poorly stitched. But Max had called Steve for help, so that’s what he did. Help. Sent her back home. Took care of Billy’s face. Billy’s hands. Nodded at those same lies, let them do their work while taking care of wounds he didn’t know, back then, couldn't have been for a crash. Made him spend the night. 

Billy still hadn't woken up when Steve left the next day, leaving food and a note on the nightstand ‘I’ll be back soon. Stay’. 

Retraced Billy’s steps down the yellow lines splitting the forest in half. To find it.

The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve’s touch, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. And Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Max has said “His dad can’t know, Steve. Can’t know. If he finds out he will--” and steve was starting to put two and two together. To realize some billy was, maybe, running away from something. Someone. When he crashed his car.

Woke Billy up when the hands of the clock met over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Seventeen hours straight of sleep and still looking like he could use a lifetime. Told him “The car will be ready in two or three days. ‘Til then, you stay'' covered his mouth with his hand. Didn't let him complain “And If whatever happened last night happens again, you take it and you run. Back here. And you stay again, ok?”

Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Lit him a cigarette. Offered to teach him how to fight.

“I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

Made him laugh.

They spent almost the whole summer together, after that. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking. Driving.

Falling.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep, pretty boy. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. Promise I won’t stop kissing you until dawn. Gotta make up for what you paid for that ca, uh?”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t gonna throw a single glance behind his back.

That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––)

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh bursts, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part. 

(–ended up coming back running, hoping the love would re-stitch itself as he followed the road’s yellow lines. 

Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.)

Because the sun’s gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird trapezoidal kitchen (in their house, in their home), for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light. 

~

#harringrove #and #this is the end #!! #i know is not too goo but i'm happy i finished #it #and also #i wanted to have something for this #1 year anniversary so :D #thank you again fandom #i wouldn't have make it this far without you #also! ns*w anon. i don't know if your're still around but #i published this part for you long ago #and it my head its now for you so <3 #xharringrove #xfluffy

[kirbyofthestars]

oh yeah its also VERY fun 2 draw lili. they wear a funny little dress and their hair is shaped like a trapezoid what more could you want out of a character -furnace(yes i believe in lili and tyla supremacy how could you tell)

OH MY GOD I WOULD KILL FOR THEM

#letterbox #GENDER

[mia-decorative]

Coffee pot from the martelé coffee and tea service for Rockledge, George Washington Maher, c. 1912, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Decorative Arts, Textiles and Sculpture

designed for Rockledge, the E. L. King House, Homer, MN (demolished 1987) The coffee and tea service that Maher designed for Rockledge llustrates his adherence to the progressive idea of a unified interior. Emblazoned on each piece, along with the King monogram, is the ubiquitous tiger lily, one of Maher's dominant motifs for the house. The service also exhibits the trapezoidal dentils and flattened arch that Maher used as architectural detailing. This set was custom-made by the Gorham Manufacturing Company as part of their exclusive "Martelé" line. The hand-hammered surface (martelé means "hammered") is characteristic of Arts and Crafts metalwork of the period. Size: 9 1/2 x 8 3/4 x 4 3/4 in. (24.1 x 22.2 x 12.1 cm) Medium: Silver and ivory

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/4824/

#museumarchive #artsmia #georgewashingtonmaher #minneapolisinstituteofart

[mia-japanese-korean]

Box and assorted implements for the incense game, Unknown Japanese, 17th-18th century, Minneapolis Institute of Art: Japanese and Korean Art

trapezoid shaped black lacquered box with gold overlay design of water with waves, grasses; small silver bird at lower C; contains two small boards with shell chrysanthemums Incense played a prominent role in aristocratic culture of ancient Japan. Aristocrats were expected to know how to mix aromatic imported woods with other plant products and compound them into burnable, fragrant incense. Popular ingredients included aloe, sandalwood, frankincense, pine, lily, cinnamon, and patchouli, among others. In the 1400s, this artful appreciation of incense developed further into the so-called Way of Fragrance, or kōdō, along with the Way of Tea (sadō or chadō) and the Way of Flowers (kadō, better known in the West as ikebana). In incense-based games, played with the set displayed here, participants take turns smelling, appreciating, and guessing the ingredients of a certain type of incense. In one variation of the game called “Genji Incense” or Genjikō, types of incense or combinations thereof hint at chapters of The Tale of Genji. Size: 1 1/2 × 4 3/8 × 8 13/16 in. (3.81 × 11.11 × 22.38 cm) Medium: Lacquered wood, gold, silver designs, shell

https://collections.artsmia.org/art/124089/

#minneapolisinstituteofart #artsmia #museumarchive

[tlatollotl]

Vessel, Throne Scene

Date: late 7th–8th century

Geography: Guatemala, Mesoamerica

Culture: Maya

On this drinking cup, an artist painted the finest example of a palace scene executed in the Chamá style, a painting tradition that originated on the western frontier of the Maya world. Chamá vessels, recognized by their black-and-white chevron borders, were used in feasting, gift exchange, and funerary offerings. The artist featured such a vessel in the scene, next to the throne upon which the ruler is seated. Las cerámicas mayas elegantemente pintadas permiten entrever la vida en la corte. Este vaso permite observar objetos de lujo como tributos, que posiblemente eran botines de guerra. El Señor más importante, vestido con una capa de plumas y sentado sobre un trono con un almohadón blanco y redondo, recibe a un jefe militar arrodillado y de brazos cruzados, en signo de sumisión. El jefe llega en una litera revestida con piel de jaguar y le regala una concha Spondylus envuelta en varias capas de tela de algodón blanco, así como dos otros bolsos blancos, que probablemente contienen cacao. Further information This polychrome Classic Maya drinking cup bears the finest example of a palace scene executed in the Chamá style. This painting tradition originated in the Alta Verapaz highlands in modern-day Guatemala. Chamá-style vases were a feature of courtly life on the western frontier of the Maya world in the eighth century. They were used in feasting, gift exchange, and funerary offerings. These few dozen vessels that survive represent a short-lived burst of artistic creativity at a time when major lowland cities were in political turmoil and on the brink of abandonment. Shaped using the hand-built coil technique, the cylindrical vase contains a scene slip-painted on a yellow-orange background in red, brown, and white, outlined in black. A band of red paint encircles both the rim and the base of the vessel. Directly below, a black-and-white chevron motif frames the main scene within the red bands. The chevron pattern is the key marker of Chamá style. The artist outlined the elements of the palace scene in a calligraphic black line and masterfully shaded the humans and architectural elements. A vertical column signals that the scene takes place in an architectural setting. The column is elaborately framed by dotted designs and contains a half-quatrefoil design in its center. The top and bottom of the column are decorated with jaguar pelts. Small protrusions on these are the remnants of the process whereby hunters tacked the skin to a board to dry it in the sun. To the left of the column, seated upon a large throne, is the king who is the scene’s main protagonist. The throne’s trapezoidal legs contain hieroglyphs, though these, as with many Chamá style vases, are actually pseudo-glyphs. Pseudo-glyphs are meant to give the appearance of writing without actually being legible. These text-like images are common after the eighth century as literacy waned among speakers of the prestige Classic Mayan language. A large ornate "traveling" bundle depicted in front of the throne is a pillow covered by a jaguar pelt and crowned with a headdress. A roaring jaguar forms the main part of the headdress resting on the pillow. It wears a head ornament of a water lily, a jade earring, and a necklace. The necklace is composed of feathers and representations of eyeballs, a sinister image associated with death gods. These types of portable thrones appear on other Chamá-style vases showing processions of rulers; rulers carried their royal court and kingly regalia with them as they visited their peers or subjects. Gracefully leaning forward to address two visitors, the king wears a large white cotton loincloth. The garment is decorated with a band of black parallel lines; the excess fabric spills out behind him. He also dons a large pectoral, bracelets, anklets, and earflares. These ornaments are likely all made of jade, though any trace of fugitive green pigments is lost. The headdress of the king frames a topknot of hair and contains aquatic imagery of jawless reptiles and vegetation, part of which dangles in front of the face. Feathers extend behind him. His neck, torso, and arms are marked with a deep red, perhaps a depiction of royal body painting. The distinguished profile of the face, accented with delicate depictions of long eyelashes, enhances his regal presence. Under the throne lie the gifts presented to the king by his visitors as a form of tribute. A lipped plate, full of either fruit or corn tamales, sits directly under the king. On the ground in between the king and the first visitor sits a cylindrical vessel full of a foaming liquid, either a type of fermented corn beverage or perhaps even savory chocolate. This depiction of a vessel features the same black-and-white chevron border as the vessel itself. This may be one of the very few self-referential depictions of a drinking cup in the corpus of Maya art. The two visitors to the king sit cross-legged on the ground with folded arms, leaning slightly forward, in a deferential posture common in Maya art. The noble closest to the king wears a similar padded white loincloth and an elaborate headdress of a beaked water bird. The second tribute-bearer’s beaded headdress contains floral imagery with a vegetal element dangling in front of his face. The artist captured their stoic gazes as they await instruction from the sovereign who is about to address them. Pseudo-glyphs hover above the heads of both courtiers. . A few examples of Chamá-style pottery are known from archaeological excavations conducted in the early 20th century by the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology. Chamá-style vases were produced by artists in a seemingly restricted area in the highlands of Guatemala around the drainage of the Río Chixoy during only one to two generations. The rulers on the Maya periphery commissioned vases with scenes of enthroned leaders, processions, battles, and groupings of mythological characters such as anthropomorphic bats and rabbits. The artist responsible for this vase depicted one of the few powerful political figures at a time when the Classic Maya political world had begun to unravel. James Doyle, 2016 Published References Coe, Michael D. 1973 The Maya Scribe and His World. New York, The Grolier Club. Cat. 13, pp. 40-41 Jones, Julie 2000 "Recent Acquisitions, A Selection: 1999–2000": The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin, v. 58, no. 2 (Fall, 2000). P. 7 Further Reading Danien, Elin C. -2009 Painted Metaphors: Pottery and Politics of the Ancient Maya. Expeditionvol. 51(1): 41-56. -1998 The Chamá Polychrome Ceramic Cylinders in The University of Pennsylvania Museum. Unpublished dissertation, University of Pennsylvania. -n.d. A reinterpretation of the Chamá vase. http://www.mayavase.com/com593.htm Dieseldorff, E.P. 1904 A Pottery Vase with Figure Painting from a Grave in Chamá. U.S. Bureau of American Ethnology Bulletin 28: 639-44. Washington, Smithsonian Institution. Reents-Budet, Dorie 1994 Painting the Maya Universe: Royal Ceramics of the Classic Period. Duke University Press, Durham and London. pp. 188-197. Villacorta Calderó, José Antonio 1927 Arqueología guatemalteca. Guatemala City, Tipografía Nacional.

The Met

#archaeology #arqueologia #maya #mesoamerica #mexico #guatemala #art #arte #history #historia #ceramics #ceramica #pottery

[klinemartin7]

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[slotfuentes7]

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[idontknowanymoreaaaaaa]

1, 2, 5, 6, 7, 9, 13, 19, 20, 21, 23, 24, 25, 30

Aahh someone actually asked questions. It’s a miracle that rarely happens. Anywayyssss....1: Would You Be So Kind by Dodie Clark 2: The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe 5: @wolfgal15 6: Physical-I guess my height is okay, I’m not actually super short. I like my eye colour, blue, it’s my favourite colour-but not my favourite eye colour specifically, that’s a whole different question though and I’m gonna get distracted. Umm..I guess I like the fact that despite me being a lazy bum who eats primarily junk food, I haven’t really gained a whole lot of weight. Non-physical-I have a lot more common sense than most of the people in my school, luckily I only actually hang out with the smart ones. I’m surprisingly good at giving advice?? I’m not sure why, considering I have very few friends and I’ve only ever dated one person and my mental state isn’t all that great right now. I stopped cutting before I ever gave myself scars. So I guess that kinda fits into I like the fact that I’m so loyal to my friends (and by that I mean @wolfgal15 specifically) that I’m willing to do things-or stop doing things-that they want me to do/not do. That didn’t make a whole lot of sense the way I worded it but yeah. Moving on. 7: Blue, either like really dark TARDIS blue, or really bright child’s drawing, sky blue. 9: Colouring. Usually on myself. 13: Mashed potatoes or pasta. Cold. Because it’s what I normally eat in the middle of the night when everything’s peaceful and quiet. 19: Can I name multiple things? I’m gonna name multiple things because they are equally important to me. @wolfgal15, animals, food, books, blankets. 20: For my crush to read the note I gave her and respond. 21: “Stay away from Audrey.” 23: My jacket. I can zip it up and put the hood up and pull it over my sneakers while I’m curled up, then pull the sleeves down over my hands and tuck my head down into my knees and I’m just a ball. So comforting. 24: Colour. Usually on myself. 25: Music/music listening device/new headphones orrrrr books. 30: The beach, sand, ocean water, cold wind. But also forests. Salamanders. Red rocks with lots of craters and edges that are kinda rough feeling. Trapezoid-shaped cement blocks. Garages that smell like dust and are cluttered with old things that no one needs but got kept anyway. Dusty pianos that are slightly out of tune and wayyyy louder than anything else in the room at 7am when everyone else is asleep. Random cat meows that wake you up earlier than you intended. Chocolate milk in a tall red glass with pancakes and bacon for breakfast. Chocolate milk in that same red glass with Oreo’s after dinner. Wood floors that only seem to squeak in the middle of the night when you’re trying to be quiet going to the bathroom. A really loud, maybe slightly creepy, grandfather clock that ISN’T placed at the end of the hallway thank gods. Lilies in a pond that smells different than you expected it to after watching so many movies, but not in a bad way. A pantry that never gets empty. A really fluffy golden retriever that will lay down and let you brush him all evening until it’s time to go to bed. A laundry room that has a shelf full of old dolls, and you get to pick one to take home each time you visit the house. You’re sisters ACTUALLY GETTING ALONG. A really old well that you’re not sure actually has safe drinking water anymore because there’s so many things in it. A medium-sized, porcelain-looking, metal elephant statue that you always found a tiny bit scary but oddly comforting at the same time.

Okay so basically I just describe my great grandparent’s house which I miss going to but since they died the house got sold and I can’t go there anymore but I have a lot of good memories of it. And yeah I kinda spoke in a narrator point of view, not sure why, I just have a habit of doing that. Probably all the books I read that do that. It’s just how I learned to describe things I guess.

Anyway, thanks for the asks anon! :)

[withoneheadlight]

NSFW Anon here and I’ve come back w the most NSFW thing ever right, so like imagine this,,,, Steve and Billy being happy and content,,,, wow

Hey nsfw! anon💗💗💗. here I finally am!

First of all: this is the most amazing, most beautiful of asks🌟. Thinking about then happy and content, thinking about them having a FUTURE together is, the most non-safe thing ever, definitely not safe for the heart, in that way love is always a risk, a leap of faith, it's not safe at all. But I honestly think these two can fall on their feet at the end of the jump. I don’t think is gonna be easy, ofc. It’s not easy people we’re talking about. The jump is gonna last long. Sometimes is gonna feel like a freefall. That rage Billy has inside is going to be hard to deal with. For Steve, for himself. Things like that leave a mark, and being raised like that, learn that you have to bite to survive, that becomes an instinct, so it’s going to hurt, learn to live with that inside. And Steve-- having so ingrained that love is something you have to buy, a rent you have to pay without fail so people stay by your side, well, that ain’t easy either. And there are so, so many other things they’ll have to deal with. To learn. To understand (about themselves. about the other. about all the other people in their lives) so they can keep moving forward. 

But if I’m not gonna be a romantic in here where else could I be? xD So I believe love wins, haha, at the end. Lame as it might sound. I believe that because the more I think about these two the more alike I found them. The more I think they’re like two sides of the same coin, spinning, spinning, and sometimes, unexpectedly, the coin stops on its rim, it doesn’t fall: they realize the other gets them. They realize they’re looking in the eyes of that somebody that is gonna know. when they need it. Its gonna look at their eyes and just know. And that’s not gonna make it easier but-- its the thing that changes it all. 

It’s the thing that rescues them both.

And that’s the idea that fuels all my stories because my stories are, like, always the same? xD, something draws them apart. Something draws them back. And the thing is, I had always imagined them, like, moving together to a tiny, shitty apartment after that, after everything happens, after they’re finally together, and for good, that last time. But then, after the two month+ quarantine I spent at my own tiny apartment, I was lucky enough to move to my parent’s house in the country,  and I had spent almost all that time writing them in a  frenzy, so the moment I got there, with all that green and the trees and the fresh air I thought okok, the apartment is good but they’re gonna buy a house, at some point, they have to buy a house. So I started to write this messy hc that is like, mmm, an epilogue, for a lot of those stories, like a mash-up? future fic-ish-y thing, mixing parts of them all. Like: no matter what happens. Or how it happens. All roads lead to this future. To them coming back to the other like gravity. To them buying an old house with a backyard, and an ugly couch, and a strange-shaped kitchen, with them finding their place inside themselves and together and in the world. And if not their place at least some kind of peace (because, well, it's never that easy either, as we are as ever-changing as life itself is)

But, you know, a good future. Together.

So, here is a small piece of that, a bit messy and a bit tooth-rotting but, I’m writing this is basically to make myself happy so, no regrets xD. Also i hope it makes you a bit happy too, anon, as you have made me with this lovely lovely ask.

…...

The kitchen is Steve's favorite part of the house.

It has this odd shape. Trapezoid. “Fuck, Stevie, so goddamn weird”. Doesn’t make sense in a, on the other hand, perfectly rectangular house (or, well, it does, but they’ll only find out about that later). The cabinets are ceiling-high. The tiles of the wall white and cracked under the repeating pattern of light mint-green-stemmed, yellow-petaled lilies. The whole backdoor is painted on that same shade Billy calls Ripe banana dreams, both so terribly old fashioned and fiercely cute none of them say a word about repainting it. There’s a wooden piece, built into the farthest end of the counter. It looks disgustingly juicy and mercilessly stabbed when they move in, but Billy insists on keeping it, and sanding, and treating, and varnishing it. Manages to get it back up on shape because “Better than anyone, darling you should know what a little touch of class can make”. And for more than two weeks straight the only goal of his life is to learn to cut vegetables at high speed because "I have to live up to this level of professionalism. Impress our most un-impressionable guests"

(And, to Steve’s surprise –and probably hers– when she finally dings to pay them a visit his mom is, in fact, pretty much impressed)

He learns how to make good casserole. Tries his luck with Mexican and Italian. Fails miserably with Japanese. Will never-ever admit it, but he loves it when flour ends up staining every single surface, making the biggest mess around himself when he bakes. Steve knows why it is. It's a shared feeling. Floats up till it reaches the ceiling and bounces back down to them, heavy with the warm smell of cooking pie and cinnamon. Tastes docile and tamed like “Maybe not so much vanilla next time. Whaddaya think, babe?.” Tastes savage and daring, like the overwhelming tang of freshly squeezed lemon lingering on Billy’s tongue when he crowds Steve against the fridge and kisses him, bites a shuddering laugh out of him “How the fuck are you able to even think about putting your mouth near that thing, Hargrove?. That was––ugh. That was disgusting” “Well you know me, whatever it takes to make you squirm” leaving Steve with absolutely no option but lick the sugary dough stain over his cheek to “Cover up that foul flavor” and maybe because he likes to make Billy shudder too. It’s an ever-present feeling. Like the vivid smells of green tomatoes and parsley and mustard sauce. Like the sensation of Billy’s lips against his. The way he loses his breath when Steve kisses the sugary flavour into his mouth.

This place smells like home, tastes like home. Like finally, finally. Home.

It’s Billy’s favorite place, too. But Steve doesn’t think it's just because of that. But also because maybe,

maybe.

He has also noticed that--

There’s this particular, particular moment. It happens around seven on autumns, right when the day starts to fade. It happens between six and six past twenty-eight on winters, and holds the sleepy cheeks of the newborn tulips on Steve’s garden till they fall asleep on springs, sun already sinking behind the horizon by the time both hands of the clock meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. And it grows bigger and bigger and bigger from there: the golden sunlight seeping through the wide, double-paned window facing the backyard at an oblique angle, making the yellow flowers of the tiles look like they’re re-blooming in gold. 

It's the moment the day turns into a fire. 

It’s their favorite moment in time. And in this particular, particular day of summer, it happens at ten past nine.

Billy is making Spaghetti carbonara. The kitchen is damp with the rich smells coming out of the boiling water. Mushrooms and oregano, black pepper and lime. A song is cooing at them from the radio, the beat of the drums a boneless memory of that one echoing around the quarry that last night at the end of July. Water rippling under the quiet sigh of the breeze. Trees cutting the liquid rays of light in asymmetric halves. 

Billy takes off the apron, lowers down the fire.

Reaches out to Steve, fingers wavering come, come, come.

To me. Come to me. “C’mon, Harrington. Are you afraid of me or what?"

He has this way of looking at Steve that makes the space between them narrow, narrow: the whole unknown world. And aseptic, non-lived-in flat in downtown Florida. This tiny, tiny town. A mysteriously-shaped kitchen–

“¿Can I have this dance?” 

Steve walks to him, takes his hand. 

––Their bodies, pressed flush. 

Inside his chest, Steve’s heart is running. 

“Can I at least have this dance, before we say goodbye?”

Mazzy Star was playing. The corner of Billy’s eye felt wet where his skin brushed against the corner of Steve’s mouth. They danced till the daylight faded, till there were teardrops falling from the night sky (“Billy, I don’t have to–-” “Don’t. Don’t, pretty boy. Don’t say it. I’ll make you stay if you do. And I can’t do that”), they made lovelovelove on the back of Billy’s car.

In this light they fell in love, they fell apart. Ran away. Ran back. 

Steve nudges at Billy’s chest, makes him move backwards till he’s far enough to tug, draw him in between their arms, hands intertwined. Steve curls himself around Billy’s back, nudges at the warm trapped between his curls. He smells like BillyandSteve, like this home, like past, like future. Like us.

Steve whispers in his ear. Three words. Billy’s neck curves towards him. An instinct. Tickled by their warmth. Steve kisses the curve of his ear. Tugs the collar of his shirt aside, bites where shoulder meets neck and up, up.

“Easy, Prom King” Billy teases, grins at him tender and wild. Knows when to use the one that gets Steve every time “Or you’re gonna make me think we’ll become picture perfect from this magical night onwards. A bunch of kids. White fences. You know, the whole shebang” 

Billy crashed the Camaro into a tree in the winter of two thousand and fourteen. Had left the house in a frenzy. Something had happened Max wouldn’t talk about. But she was scared, so she had called. When Steve found him, he was in the middle of the Brookville road, feet following the twin yellow lines, so weary, so impossibly small like this, head hanging, feet stumbling, surrounded by the tall shadows of the pines. Steve stopped the car at his side, engine oozing steam, shaking in the cold mid-May air “Billy” he said. Low. Careful. Careful. Billy’s eyes looked wet in the moon-silver night, pupils blown, deceivingly calm, “What are you doing? You know this is dangerous” And Billy had leaned in, forearms over the rim, had leveled with Steve. Looking wasted, looking tired, but still, he flashed a grin at him, teeth-shark white, not going down if he wasn’t going down swinging. And Steve hadn’t known at the moment, but the blood staining his cheek, the screaming-purple mark around his eye, those weren’t from the crush. “I was sleepwalking, Harrington" he said, voice dry, laugh harsh "Waiting for a stroke of luck"

“What does it make you think that’s not what I’m aiming for?”

When he took Billy to his house Max was already there, had sneaked out, white knuckles peaked with red around the handler of her bike “Neil will kill you if he finds out” Billy didn’t say it, but she read it on his eyes. And Max had called Steve. Called for help. So Steve took care of Billy’s face. Made him stay. Spend the night. Almost the whole next day, didn’t wake up till the hands meet over the spiraling infinity of the eight. Steve left him there. Retraced Billy’s steps down the Brookville road, following the yellow lines. The Camaro wasn’t done yet. Howled like a wounded beast under Steve's hands, but stayed together all the way to Donny’s garage. Steve paid for the repairs. Covered it all up. Two weeks later, Billy showed up at his door. Offered to teach him how to fight “I cannot give you back your money, but I know you don’t need that”

They spent almost the whole summer together. Some days. Most nights.

Wasting time. Fighting. Joking.  Driving. Fooling around.

No ‘what ifs’. No promises. Just,

“Leave the light on if you can’t sleep. If I manage to sneak out of the Old fuck, I’ll pick you up. I won’t stop kissing you until dawn”

Because Steve was gonna leave. Wasn’t going to throw a single glance behind his back. That was the plan.

And he did. He did. But––

He spins Billy out. Tugs him back. When their chests bump, his laugh explodes, bubbles up. Weightless. Happy. Because all that matters to him, to them, it’s between these four irregular walls now.

And God this, this, is Steve’s favorite part. 

–ended up coming back running, following the yellow lines. Hoping Billy was the one letting his light on this time.

Because the sun is gonna keep on shining. They can keep on dancing in here, in their weird, yellow, trapezoidal kitchen, for as long as they want. Hearts touching. Lips brushing. Bodies swaying, spinning, cutting through the golden light. 

#harringrove #golden hours at the harrington-hargrove household #billy x steve #steve x billy #xharringrove #xask #askfic #ns*w!anon💕