#personal notes intended for my own reference

[dwellordream]

#early middle ages #medieval #history #personal notes intended for my own reference #i am not a historian this is not a conclusive summary

[vaspider]

Okay, let's try this without the errors and casual domestic abuse references and classism/racism!

All of the below may be worn "because I like how they look." When I say what they're worn for, I mean the intended practical intention of their design.

This is a compression tee or workout tee. They are usually made out of synthetic materials for moisture-wicking purposes. They are worn for exercise or workouts, to draw sweat away from the skin.

This is a muscle tank. It is worn for working out (lifting weights, most often) or showing off one's muscles.

This is a sleeveless tee. Note the different sizes of the armholes. This is pretty much just a fashion statement, two tickets to the gun show, etc. but sometimes worn at the gym.

This is an A-shirt, ribbed knit tank, or fitted knit tank. In the US it may colloquially be called a "wifebeater," but that's classist, racist, and fucking gross, so knock it off.

Originally intended as an undershirt, may be worn as a primary shirt. Still worn as an undershirt by many men/mascs.

This is a fitted tee. They come in crew necks (pictured) and v-necks, typically. These also started as undershirts and are often still worn as same, but now are often worn as casual shirts as well. The difference between one intended as a casual shirt and one intended as an undershirt is mostly just fabric weight.

This is a tee shirt, also known as a heavyweight tee (a reference to fabric weight), loose-fit tee, or unisex tee. Intended as casual wear.

This is a polo shirt. Usually worn fitted and tucked in as shown, unless being worn with shorts. This is a "dress casual" sort of shirt, the kind of thing a person might wear to a semi-nice dinner out with family during the summer, but it's also part of the work uniforms of a lot of working-class people now, so.

This is a Henley or y-neck. Usually 3-5 buttons at the neck and made of cotton knit. This started as underwear too - a warm layer for winter - and is still used that way, often layered with camp shirts, chamois shirts or flannels. Also worn alone. These are pretty common chores/work shirts in my experience.

This is a camp shirt or work shirt. It is made of broadcloth, denim, canvas, or another sturdy material. Worn either as an outer layer unbuttoned over a tee, tank or henley, or if it's a nice shirt in good shape you can button it up and tuck it in and get away with wearing it to a semi-casual thing, like a weekday dinner with friends or an event at church/synagogue which isn't a service, like a potluck or a meeting.

These can often be bought lined or quilted and used as a light jacket. I used these for throwing on real quick when going to bring in wood so the wood wouldn't chew up my forearms.

Now THIS is a flannel. The difference is this is made out of flannel.

Everything I said above applies to this, except flannel shirts are more "casual" than a nice camp shirt bc the material is softer.

Flannel. Shirts. Don't. Have. To. Be. Plaid. A lot of them are, but I own/owned plenty of solid color flannel shirts. I don't care for these as much for chores bc the soft material means stuff is more likely to poke through, but they're great for layering.

I'm out of pictures so hang on, adding more.

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for writing and drawing amputee characters: Stump Scarring

This was something I had originally intended to mention in this post but felt it deserved its own separate post.

A lot of people, when drawing and designing amputee characters, draw their characters with these big, gnarly looking scars all over the stump. I get why people do this, but in reality, most amputees have stumps that look more like this:

The only scarring that is inherent to amputation (meaning most amputees have) is a very thin line right at the tip of the stump that comes from where the stump was sewn shut. After 5-10 years though, these thin incision scars will fade to be nearly invisible in most folks other than the indent it usually leaves in the skin.

Of course, there are exceptions! My own legs are covered in heavy scarring like the pictures below.

but typically, you only see this in amputees who lost their limb in ways that required them to also need skin grafts, such as from a burn (fire or acid), gangrene, some types of rapid-onset sepsis, or particularly brutal animal attacks.

For context, I used scars from meningococcal as reference here.

I think this is another reason a lot of people, particularly in 2D comics and animation, cover their amputee character's stumps, because they think all amputees have scars like the ones in the second image and I'll be honest, that's a lot to draw when you're drawing it over and over again, but unless your amputee also needed skin grafts bcuase of their injury/illness, their stumps will look more like the first images.

Fun fact: on particularly pale skin, scars can change colour depending on temperature. scars have less circulation and the blood vessels are closer to the skin, which means if you don't have a lot of melanin, your scars can turn a grey-ish purple colour like so:

This information is brought to you by an especially pasty white person in the southern hemisphere (where it's winter atm) who's scars haven't seen the sun since june lmao.

A quick final note: If you look up "burn scars" or any other similar type of large scarring on google a lot of what you get are fresh scars, so they're going to look different than the ones here. On pale skin, large scars like the ones above start out very dark red and will fade to look more like the images here. The same is true for dark skin, typically fresh scars will be much darker in colouration and will fade to be closer to the natural skin tone with time, though on both, they will always be very visible. Some types of scarring on darker skin tones can cause the skin to become lighter, but they don't usually turn entirely light pink like I've seen some folks draw. This is why it's so important to look up references of the type of scar your character has AND how that looks on their skin tone.

And as always, listen to POC and seek out the recourses specifically made by them, especially if you're drawing characters with darker skin tones. Their lived experience will always beat my "what I found through internet research and from talking to friends"

#Writing Disability with Cy Cyborg #ID in alt text #disabled artist #queer artist #my art #artists on tumblr #artists of tumblr #digital art #writing disability #disability #disabilities #disabled #actually disabled #writing advice #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #disability representation #authors of tumblr #disability aids #writing recourse #referance for writers #art tips #art resources #art help #art reference #art advice

[lacryem]

— A surprisingly long and in depth look about symbolism in the recent G-Fantasy cover by Yana Toboso ✦

Including references, flower language, how to decode the meaning of flowers, and a little too much brainrot. As well my personal interpretation drawn from all the sources I looked at. And of course what all of means (and maybe hints at?) for Sebastian and Ciel… and maybe even Sebaciel? 

Originally posted as a twitter thread, but threads suck and I forgot a couple things. so here now.

Disclaimer :

I don’t know FOR SURE that all these things were directly referenced by Yana when creating this art. But being a fan of her work for over a decade I've become familiar with her use of symbolism and reference, and believe myself to have a good eye for it at this point!   I'm also pretty familiar with the use of flower language, including different languages, due to having been involved in a project about it and having to read wayyy too much about this. 

Some of it also includes my own personal interpretation, but the meanings and info I based myself off of ARE factual. I think I made it pretty clear when referencing my personal interpretation. You're welcome to reach your own interpretation based off of the stuff provided!

And lastly, I'm not a sebaciel shipper. I'm not an anti (the complete opposite, actually) and have nothing against the ship, I like the narrative around them and how they're written but I don’t actively ship them romantically or sexually. So I'd say this is actually a pretty unbiased interpretation. Personal taste is one thing, but I don’t deny the author's intention and whats written in front of me! That is what this post is about.

Kuroshitsuji takes place in the Victorian period (1837~1901) in 1889.

The following are both important Victorian books on the language of flowers that I will be basing myself off of.

Language of Flowers by Greenaway Kate (1884), and The Language of flowers: An Alphabet of Floral Emblems (1857).

(Also, I’m treating Ciel’s rose as a deep red rose. Which is a bit different than red roses. But I am adding some relevant information about roses in general, anyway.

Now, on what they say about these flowers.

Deep rose, meaning "bashful shame". White lily, meaning "Purity and sweetness."

— The White Lily

Most people assume that the lily refers to Ciel's purity, and that’s a fair assumption. But I disagree. 

Firstly, the one holding the lily is Sebastian. Holding it on his right hand, tilted towards the right. However what's relevant here is the VIEWER. From the viewer's POV he's holding it to the left. Note he also holds the scissors on his left hand, where he bears HIS contract seal.

How you hold a flower, what position you give it to someone in, changes the meaning of the flower. These context clues are very important. It tells us that 'purity and sweetness' doesn’t refer to Ciel, but actually refers to Sebastian (…sorta).

This may be a little confusing. Purity and sweetness, Sebastian?! I know, I know. bear with me.

These books provide poems to help us understand how you may interpret the intended meaning. The lily poem is about enduring trials out of love because of the purity and sweetness he sees in his lover's eyes and soul. I believe Yana directly references the poems I will include in this post in her new artwork.

— My Interpretation

the meaning of Sebastian's lily is:

"I do all out of love for the sweetness and purity within you."

Him holding it to the contact seal and cutting the flower could stand for him destroying this sentiment (affection within himself) that has arisen in him as a result of their contract by destroying the sweetness and purity—the source of it—within Ciel (consuming his soul).

Note: This is debatable, as 'reversed' almost always means upside down. But if you consider the lily facing away from the viewer as reversed then it could mean "impurity and bitterness" which fits pretty well with Ciel, and it being held against the contract seal which is a physical representation of his impurity, brought on by his bitterness.

— The Deep Red Rose

There something I find very interesting. The rose is in a teacup, standing in for tea (I think there's even tea alongside it in the cup.) From Yana herself we know that Sebastian's eyes are a reference to the reddish brown colour of tea.

Like I said, I believe this rose to be a deep red rose, which is a bit more specific than the meaning given to red roses. However I think the poem included for roses in general very much applies here.

I was going to add my thoughts but I found this interpretation that sums it up pretty well if you replace the carpe diem theme with a more "running out of time" or "impending death" theme, which seems to be a more accurate reading for this artwork.

Looking at the rose itself, it has no thorns or leaves.

It is not a youthful rose as its already fully open and losing petals. "No hope, and no fear" fits with the poem, the rose is basically an hourglass referring to Ciel. His fate is unavoidable, but this isn't a deterrent. He's dancing on the ledge.

The deep red rose means 'bashful shame'.

When you compare it to the lily, which is a direct proclamation, the deep red rose is a quiet confession one cannot verbalize.

Debatable, to be fair but given the tie in to Sebastian's eye colour and the fact that he is always the one pouring tea for Ciel, I believe the Sebastian to be the speaker here too, but this time speaking on Ciel's feelings (Hence why he's the one holding it) rather than Sebastian's own. 

— My Interpretation

The meaning of the deep red rose Ciel holds, speaking about Ciel's feelings of guardedness, and in response saying:

"Abandon your bashful shame, and let yourself be admired without expectations (hope) or fear"

Sebastian speaks about Ciel's feelings, the deep red rose acknowledges his feelings but they remain unspoken.

The Waller poem is a plead for his beloved to seize the day, for time is short, and allow herself to be loved completely. 

Her beauty is one to be appreciated, she is not meant to be a rose unacknowledged (unloved) in the desert.

Regarding 'expectations', I think this is more about rigid ideas of how 'appreciation' or 'admiration, might be shown or received. Sebastian and Ciel's relationship defies normality or 'expectations'. So this, too, would defy expectations a young boy like Ciel, or a traumatised boy like Ciel, may have.

From Yana herself, we know Sebastian's dedication and how highly he holds 'beauty', specifically Ciel's beauty.

The author of the poem proclaims that beauty not appreciated is not beautiful indeeed, and so he calls his beloved to come to him and be appreciated wholly during the invaluable, limited time they have.

We see the deep red rose's petals fall away, in my opinion not only symbolising the withering away of time, but also the crumbling away of this "bashful shame" that Sebastian ascribes to Ciel.

How Sebastian wishes to "appreciate" this beauty is debatable. How he wants to "admire" and "desire" (per the poem) Ciel is rather open ended. Wether it be in a romantic way, a sexual way or by consuming his soul.

However, I don’t think these are mutually exclusive. And consuming Ciel can easily be a metaphor for the former two. 

— The Lily and The Rose

The Greeneaway book has this poem which im sure was directly referenced. This poem speaks about the lily and the rose in a direct power struggle and fight for dominance, until they eventually unite and reign as one.

Now when speaking about this "union", you could say it refers to their contract, but I don’t think so.

The contract ties them to each other, but it doesn’t necessarily unite them. So I believe 'unity' to be about the appreciation Sebastian speaks of Ciel opening up to. 

"The Lily" and "The Rose" might be interpreted as directly representing Sebastian and Ciel, and the unity that would come from them joining and becoming a truly complimentary pair. I think a power struggle and fight for being the one in control is very accurate way to describe their current dynamic in canon.

It may also be interpreted as "The Lily" and "The Rose" as being representations of their feelings and ideals previously. And then it would represent these two conflicting expressions—a loud  unrelenting and destructive devotion, and a guarded, bashful, unspoken reluctance— coming together and turning from conflicting to complimentary. 

Or as it tends to be with these things, both!

Either way all of this is expressed under the sense of impending doom created by their circumstances and the contract. So there's a sense of urgency permeating all of it.

Also clear to me is a sense of internal conflictedness coming from Sebastian's message that is usually only hinted at like this, and some people end up overlooking.

Sebastian desires Ciel deeply, but having him would also mean not being able to have him anymore.

Sebastian is torn and that’s why he attempts to cut the root of his wavering feelings represented by the lily. 

All of this makes me wonder about what's next, and if we will see these things said more blatantly. Foreshadowing with flower language and references like this, isn't exactly rare for Yana. I wonder if we will see this 'unity' come to be, and what necessary development Sebastian and Ciel will need to undergo to make it possible. As well as what shape it will take.

I also wonder very much about Ciel's perspective in all of this, as this was almost entirely from Sebastian's POV, but I think that's intentional. Ciel has his own goals and a lot on his mind. Sebastian's goal IS Ciel. So I assume he spends a lot more time thinking about Ciel and this kind of thing.

Thank you if you read the whole way through. Like I said before, even though the sources defending it are, my interpretation is not law and you're welcome to reach your own with the things presented.

Links for sources, including free public domain PDFs of the books mentioned are found at the end of my twitter thread.

— Thanks for reading! —

#sebaciel shipper friendly post #kuroshitsuji #black butler #sebastian michaelis #ciel phantomhive #sebastian black butler #ciel black butler #sebaciel #please refrain from ship discourse on my post. I don't care if fictional characters upset you. I'm looking at the source material here.

[sleepingdeath-light]

lashing out at younger sibling figure reader hcs ; angel dust

requested by ; anonymous (13/12/22)

fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; angel dust

outline ; “Would you be willing to write a light angst request?

(If yes, keep reading, If not, then ignore or delete this ask ^^)

Platonic!Angel Dust x fem!13 y/o!reader,

In wich the reader has very bad trust issues (because, she is in hell ¿Who WOULDN'T have trust issues there?) but somehow managed to form a strong fraternal bond with Angel.Ç

Or that's until one day Angel comes pretty bruised up to the Hotel thanks to Valentino and when reader tries to help him he snaps and yells at her/throw something her way paralizying the reader in her tracks and then she just starts taking step backs with her scared expresion trying to get away from Angel because he scared her???

And when he tries to reach out for her to reassure her it was just a reflex action the reader runs away from him practically crying because she thought he was going to hurt her???”

warning(s) ; canon typical violence, referenced (canon-typical) sexual abuse and sexual exploitation, implied child abuse

note ; this request actually confused me a little bit so the content below the cut might not be a 1-to-1 match for what the anon intended — also shaky characterisation as the show technically isn’t even out yet…

when you first met you’d been so alone and afraid, freshly dead and freshly freed of the horrors you’d faced in your short life only to be faced with a new sort of hell

body new and changed and not fully your own but still yours as you regained control of your limbs — dead heart thumping, aching lungs burning for the pungent hell air, legs and arms trembling, new eyes watery and blurred as you stumbled and fell and stumbled some more

sobbing and scared and alone until you caught sight of a limousine and a figure that would become the most important person in your life

angel was curt and uncertain when he noticed you, panicking and stumbling over his words as he slowly approached you and helped you to your feet — talking you down from your fears as he helped you adjust to your new body

‘one step at a time, kid, there we go,’

‘you’re okay, it’s alright,’

‘shit… you look so young,’

‘take my hand — any of them, just pick — and i’ll help you up,’

‘left, right, left, right, there you go,’

his words were encouraging and his voice was unusually soft and once you finally got the hang of walking you didn’t let go of his hand and the two of you stood on that street corner and spoke

you asked him who he was and where you were — he sighed and answered and held you as you cried, his fluff comforting and soft as he hugged you

he asked you who you were and your age and you answered, sobs getting louder as you realised what had happened and his hold on you got even tighter

he told you to wait and promised to take care of you whilst he dealt with his last client — making you sit down somewhere safe in the interim until he could come and collect you properly

then, once he was done, he took you back to the hotel with him and made the others promise to look after you — to not hurt you

and once he told them your age you swore that the room got a lot heavier

but they let you stay, putting you up in the room across from angel’s since he seemed to be the only one you really trusted

(being cautious about talking to the others and fearfully refusing any help offered by nifty or charlie — which broke their hearts but they left you be)

and things stayed that way for a while: living in the hotel, gradually starting to trust the others (very gradually), and getting closer to angel — who you’d started to refer to as your big brother

(which he adored and would return in kind — he felt good being able to take care of someone else, honestly, and you reminded him a bit of his sister, how she was when they were alive anyway… he hadn’t seen her in decades)

it was the most peaceful time of your life (afterlife?) and you were so grateful for having been able to find something so stable in somewhere like hell — until it all came crashing down after seven blissful months

until angel came back to the hotel after being out of contact for a week, covered in bruises and blood and cuts and black eyes as far as you could do

unable to walk without aid and stumbling with each step like a new born or a drunk

unable to let out a shuddering, wet breath without coughing up phlegm and blood

grasping at his chest and wincing with every small movement of his body

a broken man… well, even more of a broken man

of course you wanted to help him — you loved your brother after all — so you can up to him and held his arm to stop him from falling over

your touch light but firm enough as you smiled shakily and offered to help him — only to be met with a sharp glare as he pulled his arm from your grip and stumbled off

then you followed with questions, brows furrowed in concern as you asked him if he needed anything — any medicine, bandages, food, drink, anything

just let me help

and that’s when angel snapped, short temper directed at you as he yelled and screamed and belittled you, top arms flailing wildly — violently — whilst the bottom two clutched at his torn clothes and his aching chest

‘are you fucking blind?’

‘if i needed something i’d ask — do you not understand that?’

‘what the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘shut the hell up and leave me alone already!’

his outburst left you frozen in place, venomous words and angry gestures mirroring the buried shadows that haunted your memories

violent arguments

slamming doors

angry voices

no no no no no

not again please not again

your face was twisted into an expression of pure fear and shock as you stared and silently sobbed into your hands — mind here and away as angel realised what he’d done

he stops and sees you — really sees you — for the first time in a week and reaches out to you, heart breaking when you flinch and back away from him

matching his every step as he apologises and stumbles over himself trying to explain

but he only gets as far as the first syllable of valentino’s name before you’re off like a whippet — flying away like you’re shoes are on fire and running out into the streets

and angel’s eyes water from pain and guilt as he clutches his chest and takes the spare blanket from vaggie to cover himself — feeling charlie’s hand clasping his shoulder as she tells him to get some rest, that they’ll go and get you

and he doesn’t even fight it, too tired and weary and guilty to try, instead just swaying on aching legs as vaggie reluctantly helps him back to his room

his own words echoing through his head as he realises just how much like his father he had been

christ he hoped they found you soon, he knew all too well what would happen if one of the overlords found you — and he just wanted you to be safe

you were just a kid, he was just a kid, and he doesn’t want you to end up like him

#sleepingdeath #gender neutral reader #child reader #platonic x reader #platonic hazbin hotel x reader #platonic hazbin hotel hcs #platonic hcs #angst #angst hcs #hazbin hotel angst #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust x reader #angel dust angst #platonic angel dust x reader

[atinyniki]

dear (ex)lover.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: pure angst, letter

warnings + additional info: seungmin is referred to as seungmin and min, seungmin was (and still is) a dick, seungmin is a player, seungmin led reader on, reader reminisces the past, reader blames seungmin for the downfall of their relationship (rightfully so), reader has past trauma from relationships, mentions of waiting till marriage, reader has body image issues, reader has been depressed, reader has trust issues, reader misses seungmin, just a really really sad angsty letter, intended lowercase, written in letter format.

authors note: okay. im so sorry for this... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1033

dear lover,

why don’t we talk anymore? i remember, you told me i was your best friend once. i remember, i was your best friend before i was your lover. i understand, your love for me is gone now, but weren’t we supposed to be friends? didn’t you tell me we could go back to the way it was? so why don’t you talk to me? why do you avoid my eyes when you see me? why do you ignore my texts?

why do you only speak to me when it’s convenient for you?

i remember when i first opened up to you, my love. i told you i didn’t fit in with the group. i didn't think you needed me, and i didn’t think the others did either. you told me you didn’t know you needed me until i was in your life. do you still need me? why did you love me like that if you were just going to ghost me in the end? we talked about so much. you bought me my wedding ring. i wore my heart on my sleeve for you. you gave me a promise ring. why did you break your promise? why did you write so many love letters to me, knowing that you were leaving in the end?

what did i do to be treated like this? i should have been better to you, right? it’s my fault, right? i had to have done something… right? what did i do? i can do better, i can. i can be a better friend, i promise. you were my first real friend. you held me when things were hard. i need you to hold me once more. you always did my hair all nice to distract me. i miss when you’d braid it. you even played with my stuffed animals with me. you were the first person who accepted me for me.

why don’t you like me anymore? why am i always the one to approach you? did you only speak to me because i spoke to you first? was this all one-sided and you only spoke to me because i annoyed you till you replied? i didn’t know. i didn’t know that i was being annoying. i didn’t realize it. i thought you wanted me too. i’ve been having nightmares again. you told me you’d be there. it’s funny, isn’t it? you promised you’d always be there, but now you’re the cause of them. you broke my trust. you fucked up, and i forgave you. again and again, i forgave you. i took you back for every mistake you made.

why did you take my heart for granted? why did you break me like this? am i unlovable? did you grow tired of me? could you not stand me anymore like the others? the boys told me what you said about me. what you said about my body. i know i don’t look the same anymore, but can’t you still love me? am i really all that different now? or maybe you just don’t want someone who rots in bed all day. yeah, they told me that part too. maybe you couldn’t deal with my past trauma. i’ve lost people in the past like i lost you before. you told me you wouldn’t leave me. not the way they did, at least. but you did. you left, and you ruined me in the process.

maybe i am unlovable. maybe this was meant to happen. was it for the better? did you mean it when you said you loved me those last nights we spent together? did you find it fun? breaking my heart? was it nice to watch me fall apart that night on my bedroom floor? was it fun to use my own pain against me? was it fun telling me it was my fault? did it take some of your guilt away?

i’m mad at you, still.

but a part of me still loves you. a part of me still wants to forgive you, and i don’t know why. i shouldn’t, i know. you don’t deserve my forgiveness. you don’t deserve anything i have to offer. but i still want to forgive you. i still want to love you like i used to. i still want to tell you that im here for you, and i still want to hold you while we fall asleep. i still want to brush away your tears, and i still want to do your skincare for you. but you’re fading away from my life. i don’t know the person i fell in love with anymore, because they aren’t you. i miss his sweet voice, and i miss his melting touch. i miss the sound of his heartbeat, and i miss his heart. but it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? it’s always been you. you’re the person i love most, but the feelings are fading away too. i want to keep them with me. i want to hold it all so tight that your love can’t escape anymore, but you’re gone. you’re gone, and you took my heart with you.

i’m sorry. was i not good enough for you? i wish i could have been the one for you. i don’t know if i’m allowed to say it, but i miss you, min. i miss our late night laughter, i miss our runs to the coffee shop. i miss the bond we had. where did it go? why am i the only one putting effort into this stupid friendship anymore? why do i always text first? why am i begging for you to love me again?

it’s stupid.

this is stupid.

you’re stupid.

i hate you.

i hate you for using me.

i hate you so much for ruining us.

i hate you for ruining what we had.

i hate you for ruining every memory with you.

i hate you for ruining me for anybody else.

you ruined me.

they’ll never be you.

no one will ever be you.

i hate you, kim seungmin.

i hate you.

i miss you.

i miss you, and i hate it.

i hate it.

i hate you.

i love you, your ex lover.

</3

#atinyniki #seungmin #kim seungmin #skz #stray kids #straykids #skz seungmin #skz kim seungmin #stray kids seungmin #stray kids kim seungmin #straykids seungmin #straykids kim seungmin #seungmin angst #seungmin imagines #kim seungmin angst #skz angst #stray kids angst #straykids angst #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x reader #kim seungmin x reader

[seren1tyhaze]

scent

PAIRING: jaehyun x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

SUMMARY: you are ready to catch your inconsiderate neighbor who keeps smoking below your open window and what you find surprises you

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I owe you all Dive Part 2, I know. Things have gotten in the way of me writing but I am ready to get out of my own head about it. I'm here now and I'm happy to be writing. I'll have Dive Part 2 very soon because most of it's written and a lot of it is in my head, but for now, please take this peace offering of one of my favorite Jaehyun visuals to exist <3 Thank you for all the new followers and the continued love for Dive.

WARNINGS: cigarette smoking, weed smoking reference, explicit smut, carbon copy of Jaehyun from his I Like Me Better cover but hot neighbor version

PLAYLIST: I Like Me Better by Lauv (Jaehyun cover), Cigarette Daydreams by Cage the Elephant, Cigarette by offonoff, Tablo, Miso

~~

A familiar scent tickles your nose, causing you to sneeze violently, three in a rapid fire succession. You slam your knitting project down on your coffee table and peel yourself off the couch and over to your glass sliding door that leads out onto your small apartment balcony. Ripping open the screen door, you lean over the shaky railing to see a strong trail of smoke floating up towards you, knowing the inconsiderate cigarette smoker must be standing below your window at this moment.

For months you have been unable to leave your windows open consistently because despite your building’s policy against smoking, someone has still taken it upon themselves to smoke directly next to the building. You used to enjoy sunny afternoons on your balcony with a glass of lemonade or being able to leave all your windows open for weeks at a time during the pleasant fall months.

You aren’t one to hate on someone else’s relaxation methods - you yourself loved a bong filled with the favorite indica blend your friend grows or a couple gummies on a lazy Saturday in the park. It’s just the scent of cigarettes filling your apartment, clinging onto your clothes and hand knit sweaters air drying in your living room that got on your nerves. Your cat seemed equally annoyed, scrunching up his delicate features whenever the scent would waft in.

You quickly slide into shoes near your door and run down the back stairs of the building, hoping to finally catch the person in the act and give them a piece of your mind. You push open the emergency exit door abruptly and almost run head on into a tall figure, causing you to stumble back and almost fall. A hand is suddenly gripping your forearm, steadying you.

“Whoaaaa, you ok?” comes a low and gravelly voice as you lift your eyes up to meet his.

What you see is startling and not what you imagined. A handsome face with a sharp jaw and lightly styled lavender hair hanging over sparkling eyes looks back at you. His shoulders are broad, covered by a black t-shirt with a small silver cross dangling on top. Black denim is tight on his thighs with slits at the knees, held up by a belt with silver accents. He has a dark sweatshirt draped over his shoulder and he adjusts it slightly as he releases your arm.

“Um…” you start, unable to find your words before the anger flares up in your chest again, seeing an almost finished cigarette held gently in his fingertips.

“No, I’m not!” you continue, pulling your arms tightly across your chest. “Do you have to smoke right below my window almost every day?” you find your voice raising more than you had intended, cheeks flushing deep red as you speak.

He chuckles lightly, taking a final drag from the stick before dropping it to the ground and stamping it out with the toe of his sneaker. He brings the same hand back up to run through his silvery locks, taking a step back to pull the hoodie over his head, tugging the hood up to cover his hair.

“It’s about time you said something,” he mutters, taking a step closer and closing the gap further between you two.

It’s only now that you recognize him. With the black hood covering his hair and silver rings adorning his fingers you realize it’s the same man who always holds the door for you when you arrive home from work at the same time each evening. You often see him heading out to his car early on the weekends and swear you’ve even seen him at your local gym on occasion. You had never caught a whiff of the smoky scent from him before, and now as he invades your personal space, you breathe in deeply.

Despite you having barely spoken with the man, he had become a comforting figure in your life, noticing when he didn’t walk from the parking lot with you and especially when you struggled to balance all your grocery bags and iced coffee at once. Occasionally he would compliment your sweater, scarf, or beanie and you would joke back that you could make him one. The times when you really appreciated his presence were the winter nights when the sun set earlier and you had to make the dark walk from your car. He would always walk in front of you, giving you a warm smile and wave before doing so to reassure you. He would then linger while you checked your mail but not too long to let you go to your door in peace.

You didn’t even know his name or what unit he lived in, but that didn’t stop you from thinking of him late at night when you were bundled up under the covers or during steaming showers in the morning. Your delusional mind had sent you through countless daydreams of him draped across your lap as you made him a dark green beanie to match the hoodie he always wore or gloves to cover his large hands.

Something about the way that his cologne laced hoodie mixes with the cigarette smoke is intoxicating and inviting. The way his eyes are sparkling in the afternoon sun is making your heart race and every trace of anger leaving your previously perturbed mind.

“You…you always hold the door for me,” you mumble back, feeling your legs shuffle you forward even closer.

“I’m your neighbor, Jaehyun,” he replies, flashing a toothy grin that forces adorable dimples to appear on his cheeks.

“Now that I’ve finally gotten your attention, why don’t you let me make it up to you so I don’t have to keep standing out here smoking,” he replies quietly, placing a hand on the side of your neck, thumb brushing up against your jaw gently.

Your lips are on his and kissing with a sense of urgency you didn’t realize you held. His mouth greedily opens for you to slide your tongue in, tasting the bitter tobacco mixed with mint, unable to get enough of the menthol flavor. You slide your hands into the pocket of his hoodie, pulling him closer before slipping them down to grip his ass through his tight jeans.

He smiles against your mouth, applying pressure at your neck with his fingers and finding the hem of your shirt to slide under and stroke your waist gently. As your bodies meld together you feel his hardening length through his pants and groan as he presses into you. Your thighs press together, desperate for friction as he keeps kissing you deeper and deeper, leaving you gasping for air when you finally break apart.

“I thought you were going to make me a beanie,” he laughs against your lips, looping a strong arm around your waist before pulling open the nearby door, peppering your neck with kisses as you both stumbled up the stairs to your apartment.

Once inside, his hands are all over you, ripping at your t-shirt and pulling your sweats down to the floor before pulling you up into his arms. You wrap your legs around his middle tight, sinking your teeth hungrily at his lower lip, eliciting a deep moan from him. You laugh against his mouth, dropping your legs down and letting your feet dig into your hallway carpet again.

“Let’s see how this goes and then we can talk about the beanie,” you reply between kisses, ripping his hoodie and shirt off his body in one motion. Your brain short circuits briefly at his tight abs and broad chest before you turn on your heel and head back towards your bedroom, unclasping your bra as you walk, letting it fall to the ground.

A few hours later your cheek is resting against his bare chest as your cat jumps up on the bed and howls in surprise at the man under your covers. He paws over and starts swatting at his hair, scrunching his nose at the scent held there. He moves to you, sniffing at your skin and finding the same smell, eliciting an annoyed sound he usually made when you were taking too long opening his can of food. You laugh at the cat and push him gently to the edge of the bed where he begrudgingly curls up into a ball with a flick of his tail as a warning.

“Guess he doesn’t like me,” Jaehyun laughs, pulling you closer to him to place a tender kiss on your forehead. 

His lips on your skin brings flashes of how it felt to ride him just moments before, your lips pressed against his as you pulled your body slowly up and down his cock. His large hands had found a home at your lower back, making circles there with your thumbs. He would occasionally drop his mouth to your neck, biting there before moving lower to suck one of your nipples between his soft lips, teeth grazing lightly. You could feel him moan against your skin and pull you closer to him, spurring you on to move faster in his lap.

Pulled back to the present, you shake your head in reply, breathing in deeply as the faint scent of cigarettes fills your nose, mixed with the lingering notes of his peach body wash. Somehow, the way he smells isn’t offensive to you, it’s quite the opposite. 

Maybe you didn’t hate the smell of tobacco after all.

#nct x reader #nct smut #nct fanfic #jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fic #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x you

[mwahkazu]

୨୧ synopsis: — you wake up to find your phone flooded with messages from your close friends, all of whom are seeking to the spend the day hanging out with you! how and who will you decided to spend your day with?

꒰ characters: ꒱ wanderer, kazuha, heizou, venti, xiao

꒰ tags: ꒱ gn reader, intended as platonic relationships but is free for interpretation, wanderer is referred to as kunikusuzhi (kuni), college setting

꒰ note: ꒱ a stealing the spotlight special to celebrate this blog reaching 100 followers! as usual i have tagged those from the series to this post encase they’d be interested. thank you all sm again for the endless support <33

golden threads of sunlight filter through the curtains, painting your stilled room in soft orange and yellow hues. a mellow summer breeze sneaks its way in through the small opening of your window, one you had mistakenly left open from the previous night’s endeavors of sneaking out onto the fire escape to get some fresh air after hours of being cooped up in your room studying.

the distant sound of traffic noise and passing metro trains reaches your ears, making you stir in bed as you gradually start to wake up from your deep sleep. at first, you’re thinking it’s still too early for you to be waking up. after all, your alarm hadn’t even gone off yet, so surely you’ve still got another hour or so of sleep left.

but just as you let your head fall back down into your pillow, that cursed sound of your phone’s alarm blares all throughout your room within the next second. so much for getting more sleep.

restraining yourself from throwing your phone against the wall, you shut off the alarm and begrudgingly pull yourself out of bed. once your feet meet the floor, something soft begins to tickle at your skin, the sudden sensation enough to startle you awake as you look down to see the source.

“rosseland?” the cat simply meows in response, affectionately rubbing itself against your legs and emitting soft purrs. a small smile finds its way to your lips. “decided to stick around for a bit longer? well, let’s hope whoever your owner is isn’t freaking out right now…”

you crouch down to give the small feline a few gentle pets on it’s back before beckoning him to follow you into the kitchen for breakfast.

most of the time you find yourself skipping breakfast in the mornings, usually due to the fact that you end up sleeping past your alarm and thus end up in a hurry out the door in order to get to your classes on time. today seemed to be your lucky day though, as not only did you actually manage to get out of bed at the appropriate time, but you got to indulge in a full and gratifying breakfast—cereal.

after serving rosseland a small portion of cat food into his bowl, you walk over to the fridge, grabbing the carton of milk out to pour into your own bowl of cereal. just as you do so, your phone buzzes on the countertop behind you. probably just a random notification from an app you don’t even use.

after a minute, it buzzes again. and again. and again? archons, what in the world is going on?

heaving out a sigh, you walk over to grab your phone. on the homescreen, you’re greeted with several messages, all from five different individuals whom you know all too well. how strange that they all decided to text you separately. there is a group chat with everyone in it so why not text through there?

feeling too tired to question such behavior, you decided to just brush it off and begin going through each person’s messages one by one.

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: KUNIKUZUSHI ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: HEIZOU ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: KAZUHA ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: XIAO ꒱

━ ꒰ MSG FROM: VENTI ꒱

welcome to the 100 followers special for stealing the spotlight !

this is no ordinary event, but one that i have exclusively planned to center around the characters from my smau series that has and continues to receive constant support from all you lovely readers~

therefore, i figured it was only fair to make a special event in which you the audience can have some power in how the story goes. engagement in this event is quite simple.

after reviewing the text messages you received from each character, your job is to accept one character’s offer and then name an activity you’d want to do for the day. once you’ve made your decision, you will submit your choices to my inbox where i will then write out a little headcanon piece for you based on your choice and how i think that will play out :3

IMPORTANT: this event only has 5 slots available, one for each character. there is no guarantee that i will pick your submission as due to time constraints, i can only stick to doing five. once i’ve made the selection, i will compile all five pieces into one post. on there i will be tagging the user that requested, announcing the activity they wrote for said character and then the written headcanons i came up with.

SUBMISSION DEADLINE: march 26 2023

taglist (open 29/30) ; ━ this taglist is dedicated to my smau only! if you are interested in being added to the taglist for the smau, you can either comment on the masterlist post or send to my inbox!

@peaceindreams , @miwafei , @whipped-for-fictionals , @blissfullyapillow , @yotraumainthebuilding , @reixtsu , @almond-t0fu , @quacking-simp , @kika-a , @kookiibun , @silentmissinghallucination , @sleepyeri , @xiaossocksniffer , @14-paradise , @kaitfae , @cupid-spams , @semi-orangeapple , @scarletttcroww , @sl-vega , @ethiy , @swivy123 , @ceneid , @kunikuzushis-darling , @beasalmeh , @enjisthings , @lloovvv , @sn1perz , @dreamyysouls , @glxssmemories

#stealing the spotlight! ✩ #genshin impact #genshin #genshin smau #genshin x reader #wanderer #kaedehara kazuha #shikanoin heizou #xiao #venti #kazuha x reader #wanderer x reader #heizou x reader #xiao x reader #venti x reader

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Symbols I would be making sure were present (or adding) if I were producing the Six of Crows TV show

(Btw I’ve been writing my own script for a bit of fun since the cancellation news so if anyone wants to see that I’ll tag you, and the save S&B petition is also on my page if anyone wants the link)

EDIT: Sorry I should’ve put this I forgot; SA reference warning for the second point, nothing explicit but in talking about Inej’s experiences and the experiences of women in Greek mythology 🖤

FLOWERS. I want geraniums on the Exchange balcony from chapter 2 and I want reference to the geraniums at 19 Burstradt, I want Matthias the big brooding yellow tulip contrasted with the red tulips laid on his chest and in the water after his death, I want crocuses at the Hoede manor, I want jurda blossoms in Jesper’s flashbacks and maybe Kaz’s too (and probably crocuses in his), I want geraniums hidden all over the caravan and circus tent in Inej’s flashbacks, I want wild flowers in Wylan’s hands on the way to St Hilde’s that get discarded in the lobby, I want wisteria growing outside St Hilde’s, I want blue tulips painted on the floor tiles at St Hilde’s, I want white roses all over Nina’s room in Ketterdam and I want to hear the comment about how all the flowers at the White Rose are perfumed by hand, I want a cascade of geraniums falling all over Kaz and Inej as they tumble of Goedmed Bridge, I want lavish flower arrangements at the Menagerie accented by peacock feathers, I COULD TALK ABOUT THE FLOWER SYMBOLISM IN THESE BOOKS FOR YEARS I WANT IT NOTICED LET’S GO

BIRDS. I want crows, I want pigeons, I want nightingales (that one’s my personal addition but oh boy do I have reasons; Nightingales are a symbol of immortality in literature and could be painted on the tiles at St Hilde behind the wisteria for all the same symbolic reasons the wisteria’s there; in Greek mythology Philomela prayed to the gods to escape her Tereus, who had raped her and intended to kill her, and they turned her into a nightingale, representing freedom and imprisonment at the same time because she’d lost who she was so this wasn’t true freedom DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY I NEED A NIGHTINGALE TO CROSS THE SCREEN WHILST INEJ CONTEMPLATES HAVING COMMITTED MURDER AND HER PERSONAL MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPLICATIONS OF THAT!!?? I’m going crazy), I want more emphasis on the bird cage in Heleen’s office because in its three seconds of screen time in season one I was SOLD on how genius it was, I want peacocks EVERYWHERE, I want to be so committed to the birds vibe that we can start throwing in a whole load of new birds for other symbolism!! Let’s have owl symbolism around Wylan and Jesper, let’s have heavy emphasis on Nina as the little red bird, let’s talk about the nightingale again because I’m obsessed

KOMEDIE BRUTE. I have talked before about how I think the costumes each character wears are symbolic and directly linked to their arc but it was a long time ago and I updated it a few times based on replies so if anyone wants a full updated version of my thoughts on that lemme know, I also wrote a thing about how I think Mr Crimson could possibly be an omen of death so again if anyone’s interested let me know - I’ll either tag you or write a post fully involving all my Komedie Brute thoughts. I want Nina as the lost bride, Wylan and Inej in matching grey imp costumes, Kaz in the madman’s mask, Jesper and Matthias as Mr Crimson, all of them as Mr Crimson with a black tear in their masks, silver coins thrown all over the staves, costume shops on Ketterdam streets. I want Jackal masks and Drüskelle “costumes” in plain view on market stalls and in shop windows, and as an add on to that I want references to Nina’s fake Kefta being Kerch-made and uncomfortable to wear.

PURPLE. I want purple stadwatch uniforms, I want purple kruge notes, I want purple decor in the Geldrenner, I want purple silks in Inej’s flashbacks.

TREES. I want so many reminders that trees are sacred to Fjerdans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has already been done really well in the show but I would want to maintain it; I want to see Matthias praying when Wylan fells the tree before the Ice Court heist, I want his indignation over the relevance of the sacred ash tree, I want to see the look on Nina’s face when she realises Brum has walked her all the way around the sacred ash instead of crossing underneath it (at the time she thinks it’s because she’s pretending to be a prostitute but later we understand it’s because she’s Grisha and I know we couldn’t have had Nina’s internal thoughts in this scene even though I wish we could have but we can still have hints!!!)

SEALS AND STAMPS. I want to see a blue wax seal with a peacock feather pattern, a black seal with a crow, a pale green stamp for the bank, a purple stamp for government correspondence, I want a stack of letters with unbroken red seals with a laurel wreath crest hidden under Wylan’s mattress.

RELIGIOUS SYMBOLS. Ok there’s loads we could say here but specifically I want “rich as saints in crowns of gold” contrasted with “if it was worth anything Heleen would have taken it. But this is just a simple token of faith that my mother stitched”, I want the imagery of Ghezen contrasting the imagery of the Saints contrasting the imagery of Djel, and I so so badly want “Djel is the god of life, not death”

#someone save this show and then hire meeeeee #I have too many ideas #save shadow and bone #save six of crows #grishaverse #six of crows #crooked kingdom #leigh bardugo #inej ghafa #kaz brekker #nina zenik #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #helnik

[phoenixyfriend]

Can you explain the Iran-Israel situation please?

Alright, let's get to it. Please note that I'm writing this on mobile during my lunch break, so I can't include reference/source links as much as I'd like. Thankfully, most of what I'm going to be telling you should be easily located by searching for an article on one of the following: APNews, Reuters, BBC Global News Podcast, Democracy Now!, NPR, or The New York Times. Long-term background is probably best found in videos by the YouTube channels Real Life Lore or tldr global news, or on Wikipedia if you prefer text.

The short version: Israel attacked Iran's consulate in Syria to get at some of the military commanders that were there, which is legally equivalent to attacking Iran itself. Iran responded by sending about 300 bombs at Israel, most of which were shot down in transit. Given that they still called it a success, even though it seems only one person was even hurt, my understanding is that it's very likely that they only intended the rockets to be a show of force, rather than an actual escalation, because Iran can't afford a war right now.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post OR this post.

The long version:

Okay, let's start with some background on Israel, then Iran. This is... a lot, so if you already know the broad strokes skip down to 2023.

Israel was established following WWII by the English and French, following borders the two countries had secretly drawn up decades earlier in the Sykes-Picot agreement. The intent was to give the Jewish people a place to go... or, depending on who you ask, a place to send them. Their ancestral homeland was viewed as the best choice, sort of like a deportation millennia after a diaspora. Given that WWII had just ended by the time Sykes-Picot was actually put into effect, 'getting out of Europe' was something a lot of Jews were given to agree with.

The Arab world was not happy, as that land had belonged to the Ottomans for centuries, and had long since 'naturalized' to being Arab. I'm not going to pretend to know the nuances to when people do or do not consider Palestine to have been its own nation; it was an Ottoman state until WWI, at which point it came under British control for just under three decades, and that period is known as the British Mandate of Palestine; it ended after WWII, with the creation of Israel. Palestine's land and people have sort of just been punted around from one colonizer to another for centuries.

Iran is the current form of what was once Persia. They were an empire for a very long time, and were a unitary monarchy up until the early 20th century; in 1925, Iran elected a Prime Minister who was then declared the monarch. The following several decades had Iran's monarchy slowly weakened, and occasionally beset by foreign interventions, including a covert coup by the US and UK in 1953. The country also became more corrupt throughout the 1970s due to economic policy failing to control inflation in the face of rising oil prices.

In 1979, there was a revolution that overthrew the monarchy and the elected government, replacing the system with a theocracy and declaring Iran to be an Islamic Republic, with the head of state being a religious authority, rather than an elected one. This was not popular with... most countries. 1980 saw the closure of all universities (reopened in 1983 with government-approved curriculums), as well as the taking of over fifty American hostages from the US Embassy in Iran. You may have heard about that in the context of Ronald Reagan encouraging Iran to keep the hostages until the end of Carter's term in order to force the election.

So, the West didn't like having an Islamic state because it claims to like democracy, and also because the Islamic state was explicitly anti-American and this has some Bad Effects on oil prices. The Soviets didn't like having an Islamic State because a theocracy goes directly against a lot of communist values (or at least the values they claim to have), and weakened any influence their supposedly secular union could have on Iran and the wider middle east. The other countries in the Arab world, many of them still monarchies, didn't like the Islamic republic because if the revolution spread, then it was possible their monarchies would be overthrown as well.

(Except Oman, which is not worried, but that's the exception, not the rule.)

This is not a baseless worry, because Iran has stated that this is its goal for the Arab world. Overthrow the monarchies, overthrow the elected governments, Islamic Rule for everyone. That is the purpose of its proxies, like Hezbollah (Lebanon), the Houthis (Yemen), and Hamas (Palestine), along with less well-known groups like the Salafi Jihadists in Mali, who are formally under the umbrella of al-Quaeda, which Iran denies having any relation to but is suspected of funding. In areas where these proxy groups have gained power, they are liable to enact hard Shari'a law such as has happened in Northern Mali and other parts of the Sahel region.

While other conflicts have occurred in these countries, I think the above is most relevant.

Israel has repeatedly attacked, or been attacked by, other nations in the middle east, as they are viewed as having taken over land that is not theirs, and as being a puppet of the US government. The biggest conflicts have been 1947-1948, 1968/1973, and 2014.

And then, of course, 2023.

Now, Iran, more than any other nation in the Middle East, hates Israel. They have for a very long time, viewing them as an affront to the goal of spreading Islam across the whole of the middle east, and as being a front and a staging ground for the United States and other Western powers. Two common refrains in the slogans of Iran and its proxies are "Death to America" and "Death to Israel."

Due to Iran's military power and virulence towards Israel, the United States has been funneling money to Israel for decades. It has more generally been to defend itself against the Arab world at large, but it has narrowed over the decades to being about Iran and its proxies as relations have normalized with other nations like Egypt and Saudi Arabia.

Cue October 7th, 2023. Hamas invades Israeli towns, kills some people, and takes others as hostage. Israel retaliates, and the conflict ramps up into what is by now tens of thousands of dead, some half of which are children.

In this time, Hamas's allies are, by definition, Iran and the other proxy forces. Hezbollah, being in Lebanon, share a border with Israel's north. They have been trading rocket fire across the border in waves for most of the past six months. The Houthis, down in Yemen, claim to be attacking the passing cargo ships in order to support Palestine. Given that the attacks often seem indiscriminate, and that the Houthi's control over their portion of Yemen is waning in the face of their poor governance, this is... debatable. It's their official reason, but given that "let's attack passing ships, claiming that we only attack Israeli or American ships and that it is to support Palestine" is rallying support domestically for their regime, it does seem to be more of a political move to garner support at home than about supporting Palestine.

Iran, however, has not attacked Israel. They've spoken out about it, yes, but they haven't done anything because nobody wants a regional war. Nobody can afford it right now. Iran is dealing with a domestic crisis due to oil subsidies bleeding the states' coffers dry, and the aging Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, the leader of Iran, refusing to pick a successor. They are looking at both an economic crisis and succession crisis, and a regional war would fuck up both situations further. Iran funds most of its proxies, and they can't do that, and fight a war on top of it, while their economy is in its current state. Pure self preservation says they don't want a war, especially with the ongoing unrest that's been going on for... well, basically since the revolution, but especially since the death of Mahsa Amini.

Meanwhile, in Israel, Netanyahu has been looking at corruption charges and legal issues since before the Hamas attack. It's generally agreed that if Israel were to hold new elections right now, he would lose and be replaced, and also immediately taken to court. Netanyahu wants to stay in power, and as long as the war on Hamas lasts, he is unlikely to get voted out. A change in leadership in the middle of a war is rarely a good idea for any country, and he's banking on that.

However, the war on Hamas rests on the shoulders of American money and supplies. Without that military support, Israel cannot fight this war, and America... is losing patience.

Officially, America and most of the western world have been telling Israel to not fucking escalate for the majority of the war.

There have been implied threats, more or less since Schumer's big speech about how Israel needs a new election, of American legislators putting conditions on any future aid. There have even been rumblings of aid being retracted entirely if Israel follows through on invading Raffah.

So...

American aid to Israel has, for a very long time, been given in the name of defending Israel against Iran and its proxies.

Israel has been fighting this war against Hamas for six months, killing what is by now innumerable civilians, on the power of US military aid.

Netanyahu benefits from the continued war due to domestic troubles.

Iran does not want a regional war, or really any big war, due to its own domestic troubles.

The US is, in theory, losing patience with Israel and threatening to pull the plug on unconditional support. It's very "we gave you this to fight Iran. Stop attacking civilians. If you keep attacking civilians, then you're going to have to rely on what we already gave you to fight off Iran so that you won't keep wasting it on civilians."

Israel... attacks Iran, prompting a response, and is now talking about escalating with Iran.

I am not explicitly saying that it looks to me like Israel, which is already fighting a war on two physical fronts and even more political/economic ones, has picked a fight with Iran so that America feels less like it is able to withdraw support.

I just... am finding it hard to understand why Israel, which is in fact fighting both Hamas and Hezbollah, would attack the Iranian consulate in Syria otherwise. They can't actually afford to fight this war, escalating to a full regional conflict, on a third front.

Not without pressuring American into keeping the faucet of military funding open at full blast.

To support my blogging so I can move out of my parents’ house, I do have a ko-fi. Alternately, you can donate to one of the charities I list in this post OR this post.

#phoenix politics #current events #iran #israel #hamas #houthis #hezbollah #syria #politics #united states #military funding #military aid

[frogchiro]

in her arms, i am calm

so umm,, after the scrumptious surprise that mhy gave us in the form of the fatui harbingers, so as promised, I decided to write a little something for the man that literally made my poor brain shut down and go into stand-by mode, Pierro <3

as promised, I'm tagging the wonderful @jade-parcels, she has been and still is my biggest inspiration SINCE MONTHS, and you may know me under the anon alias Fish!🐡 :) many other people have been so kind and encouraging, so i decided to bite the bullet and make a grand reveal! i'm dedicating this to you darling jade, I really hope you and others will enjoy it as much as I did writing this! also this turned out way less dirty than I intended, but what can I say, I'm a whore for fluffy smut 😭

warnings: reader is +18 years old!! (indicated to be as old as childe but feel free to read it as you please!), fem!reader (reader is refered to as a female with female body parts), heavy NSFW themes, age gap, referenced violence (not against the reader), possible dark themes, also please note that I took HEAVY liberties regarding Pierro and the rest of the Harbingers lore as we literally know almost nothing about them, so please take this with a grain of salt ;)

маленькая-little one

Pierro prided himself on many things, from his bravery and prowess in battle that led him and his country to many victories over the many years he served the Tsaritsa, the countless riches he aquired and hoarded in his mansion, right up to being crowned the First Fatui Harbinger, the Pierrot, the right hand of the Tsaritsa, something he knew many would kill for.

Yet all of that paled next to you, the little beauty that captured his old but sharp as ever eyes. For the first time in...years Pierro was truly at loss of words, for the first time he just... didn't know. Why did you, little, young, naive you capture the eyes of the oldest, most prominent Fatui Harbinger? He knew you of course, how could he not; you were the Tsaritsa's personal handmaiden, her favourite. You always accompanied your Goddess wherever she took you, which was almost everywhere, and he watched you with his snowy, sharp eyes, watched as your own clear (e/c) ones watched and rapidly tried to take everything in, your curiosity and wonder almost being child-like and naive in his eyes.

'She's still young my friend, I think you forgot how it was being like her, cut her some slack would you~'

Came the rich, deep voice of Pantalone, his fellow Harbinger. Pierro only rolled his eyes in quiet annoyance as he continued to watch you as your beautiful eyes flittered across the sprawling ballroom being decorated for the upcoming ball, everyone working extra hard as the Tsaritsa herself decided to attend the preparations, her favourite girl in tow, dutifully following her Majesty and listening to her speech about something the blonde man couldn't care less, his eyes focused on you.

Reminiscing the not-so-long-ago past, Pierro was interrupted with a sweet sweet whine that came from under him and he was quickly focused back on the present and on you.

'I'm sorry маленькая, I got a bit lost in my thoughts and neglected you eh? We can't have that, can we?'

Pierro rasped in a deep rumbling voice that you could feel through his chest in your tummy, the man always made sure to keep you as close to himself as physically possible, in and out of bed.

'To keep the cold away', he would say, but judging by the faint fond look in his usually stony eyes you could tell it way an excuse to simply touch you, not that you nor he'd ever admit it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the strong thurst that moved you up the bed a little and caused you to cling tightly to Pierro's broad back that you loved so much. Another lond whine escaped your mouth as the man above you grunted and you felt a particulary well aimed thrust hit your sweet sport head on. You knew that although Pierro would never admit this, he loved it when you were loud and vocal in bed, so you let go of all the remaining thoughts and just let yourself feel.

The lovemaking session lasted well into the night, only the blazing hot fire in the enormous fireplace, the bright starts and Moon in the dark sky and the tiny snowflakes being the witnesses to your passion.

Pierro was watching you all night; all your gasps, moans and groans of pleasure, the faces you made, all the little eye rolls and your little pink tongue sticking out a bit, he watched it all with rapt attention, wanting to burn all these images into his mind and treasure them forever. He came shortly after your orgasm, how could he not? Your perfect walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking him for all he's worth and the sudden wet gush he felt send the man over the edge and he allowed to loose himself in the earth-shattering pleasure. With the last few deep thrusts that you swore touched your deepest, most intimate parts, he came with a rumbling growl and let himself fill you up to the brim. You moaned weakly and flinched at the feeling of hot cum shooting against your poor battered cervix, but your lover was quick to hold you still with his strong arms, not allowing you to even move an inch away from his hips as he quickly leaned down to capture your lips with his, and you have to admit, for a man as stoic and ice-cold as him, his kisses were sure expressive.

After he parted his lips from you, Pierro let out a heavy breath that he swore felt as if a stone was lifted from his weary heart. He kept looking at you, happy, full and sated and terribly sleepy as you always were after a night like this, you sometimes would tease him that for a man his age he sure had the strength and stamina of a young stallion at which he would always roll his eyes and tell you to get lost.

But now, in the privacy of his chambers, he looked at you with a look of adoration and utter devotion, his pale eyes looking and capturing every little detail of your tired and sweaty face as your heavy pants mingled with each other, your lips almost touching as you smiled tiredly up at him before reaching out and cupping his face in your small soft hands, your fingers caressing his face, combing through his long golden hair and beard, mapping every single one of his features before bringing his face closer and closing the distance between you.

Contrary to the heavy, lustful kisses full of tongue and teeth in the heat of the moment, these kisses were slow, calm and full on emotions, lips delicately touching and moving, tongues barely grazing each other.

After some time of post-coital cuddles and affection and a bit of soft whispery talk, you finally let your tired eyes rest after cuddling up close to your lover, but all the raging thoughts came back to keep Pierro from sleep.

After placing you on his broad chest and tugging the numerous thick comforters and luxurious furs over you two and making sure you were snug and warm, he let his thoughts wander.

Pierro knew painfully well that you two were an odd pair to say the least, in fact it was a big fucking understatement. He was...well, him, The First Fatui Harbinger, the stronges of them all, The Pierrot, the terror that shook the very earth where he stood, and you were this innocent little thing that was way to curious and clever for your own good.

He was no poet nor a great bard that could sing endless songs and ballads dedicated to your beauty, so he just described you as 'stunning' yet he felt immensely frustrated to call you this one simple word.

The planes of your unmarked (s/c) soft and healthy skin, the tiny little spots and blemishes that made you distinctly you, your (h/c) hair, always so thick and shiny, he loves to touch it and comb his hands through when you sleep, your wide curious (e/c) eyes. But what draws him to you the most are your perfect full lips that he oh so loves to kiss and trace with his fingers, the smiles you give him and when you laugh at his dry non-existent humor are angelic to his ears.

Don't get him wrong, the ever vigilant Harbinger sees and hears all the whispers of soldiers and servants alike, he's painfully aware of the gossip and rumors, of them talking about what a big old brute wants with a beautiful young thing like you.

Pierro frowns and almost growls with frustration when he remembers all the times that unhinged ginger brat made a fool out of himself to gain your attention, but can he really blame him? You're both the same age or at least close to him, much closer than you are to Pierro, or the stone-cut Arlecchino has the faintest blush on her icy face when you bring her some document the Tsaritsa personally asked you to deliver, and Pierro is about to recall even more scenarios like this that make his blood boil but he felt you move against his side, your naked breasts squishing oh so deliciously against his scarred chest and just like this all the negative toughts are gone and instead are replaced with these strange warm fuzzy feelings he feels whenever he looks at you.

He decides that enough is enough, he can't afford a headache that will make him miserable and cranky, so he lets go of those dark frustrating thoughts and moves down so that your face is in hidden in his neck and he allows himself to comb his fingers through your hair. He breaths in deep, taking in your distinctive scent that mixed with his creating something new and wonderful, and so the gruff, cold and seemingly unapproachable Harbinger lets himself rest and succumb to a deep slumber with the one good thing in his long life safe in his arms.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #fatui harbingers #fatui x reader #pierro x reader #fem reader

[dwellordream]

#i am not a historian this is not a conclusive summary #personal notes intended for my own reference #medieval #late middle ages #history

[upsidedownsmore]

ENTRIES CLOSED, reblogs turned off, thank you everyone for entering and sharing your wonderful works!!

A compilation of every entry piece can be found here!

The winner is @mugbearerscorner and the information has been confirmed in DMs!!

Roll proof:

A link to the full spreadsheet of entries can be found here!

I'm so so grateful to all the people who participated in this event!! I'm so happy with how well it turned out and I'm so so thankful to be able to host it!!! Love you all!! :) :) :)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

GAUSS PRIME ACCESS GIVEAWAY!

* Provided by Digital Extremes! Info about the prime access here.

To enter, simply reblog with your art of ANY warframe giving a thumbs up!

Giveaway entries will close on FEBRUARY 10TH at 10:00pm CST

The post for the above drawing (with reference screenshot and wips) can be found here.

MORE INFO UNDER THE READ LINE, PLEASE READ IT IF YOU WANT TO ENTER

Notes:

This is not a contest! The winner will be decided entirely randomly, image quality will have no effect on chances of winning! Make whatever you can in any medium you want! (This can also include 3D mediums! The only thing I'm not including is unedited game screenshots/captura, though edited might be okay). Everyone can draw regardless of how good you think your own skills are!

Please submit your own drawing(s)!! Only one is necessary but you can make more if you want of course! Do not use any AI generation tools for your entry.

When reblogging it might be a good idea to enter some text either in the post or in the tags! It turns out reblogs with just an image and nothing else might not show up under the original post, which means I might miss your submission!

Only one entry per person, you will not get more entries for additional reblogs and/or drawings.

The goal of this is for the community to have a fun little gallery of warframe thumb ups in the reblogs, but again don't stress over how "good" your drawing is! As long as you have fun and submit something vaguely in line with the prompt you're good! (such as a wave instead of a thumbs up or an operator instead of a warframe, etc. Up to you how closely you want to follow the prompt!)

You DO NOT need to engage with me in any other way (likes, follows, etc.) to enter, just a reblog with a drawing loosely following the prompt!

This giveaway will only run here on Tumblr due to issues with bots and impersonation on Twitter. The issue of course is that the only way to submit images under a single post on Tumblr is through reblogs, but please know that I do not intend this to be a means of promotion. If people could submit images in the replies I would gladly take that option! If this post gets taken down I will look into other giveaway options.

As this is my first giveaway as a Warframe creator please let me know if I've made any mistakes!

Here are some example drawings that would all work, but of course whatever you want to make shouldn't be limited to this!

Inspired by @ritens, I will be assigning one unique number per individual and then throwing them into the random number generator on random.org. After the entries close and I roll the winner, I will update this post with the winner's name and a message saying that the giveaway is closed. Reblogs will also be turned off once the giveaway is closed, as I am only using reblogs as means of congregating drawing submissions under one post during the giveaway period.

Whoever's number get's chosen will be contacted via DMs here on Tumblr, so please make sure your DMs are open! I will be asking for your Warframe IGN and platform so DE can give send over your prize! If you have cross-save linked or merged then please tell me, though I will also be asking in DMs as well. If the winner doesn't respond within 48 hours or no longer wants the prime access pack, then I will roll a new winner with the same method but with the previous winner(s) number(s) taken out of the pool.

Topmost drawing without giveaway text:

Anyways good luck and most importantly have fun!!

#free wf pa #warframe #gauss prime #my art #warframe gauss prime #UpsideDownSmore's art #warframe fanart #gauss prime access #wf tag #wf #warframe gauss #can't believe i can do one of these now woah #still absolutely surreal #probably way too much effort for this lol #but it was good practice at least and i'm really happy with the result! #praying this works i've spent too long cobbling this together lol

[breelandwalker]

Ghost-Be-Gone Powder

Intent: To banishing interloping spirits.

Ingredients:

2 pt Angelica Root

2 pt Basil (any type)

1 pt White Oak Bark

1 pt White Willow Bark

1⁄2 pt Bloodroot**

1⁄2 pt Black Salt

1⁄2 pt Sandalwood (if desired)

Note: Powdered versions of most herbs are available online. I recommend Starwest Botanicals and Penn Herbs for quality products at reasonable prices. Also, if you can get your hands on a good electric spice grinder, you can make your own powder from dried herb products.

If you don't have premade powdered herbs, grind each ingredient separately to produce fine powder. Sieve the material through a mesh strainer into a collection dish; this removes the larger unground pieces and gives you cleaner powdered herb. (Pro-Tip: Putting a funnel under the mesh strainer reduces lost material and makes collection much easier.)

Combine the component powders in the collection dish, mix well, and bottle immediately. Label with the name, date, and ingredients for future reference.

Use in magics intended to remove troublesome spirits from your home. Sprinkle in the corners of each room, and across thresholds and windowsills to banish unwanted spirits and prevent their return.

Cast a few pinches of Ghost-Be-Gone Powder out your front door or on your doorstep after performing a home cleansing or banishing ritual to help keep your home free of uninvited spirits. Keep a bottle of the powder in troublesome areas to help reduce problems with mild to moderate hauntings and make any spirits who wander in easier to remove. Including the powder in regular cleansing rituals also helps to keep out all but the most determined metaphysical pests.

Add a small amount of Sandalwood or your preferred incense powder to create a burnable mix for smoke-cleansing purposes. Be sure to ventilate your home well after censing as part of a spell or ritual. (Censing or heavy smoke-cleansing are not recommended for homes with pets, small children, or persons with respiratory ailments. Always let caution and common sense prevail when planning your workings.)

-adapted from Pestlework: A Book of Magical Powders & Oils, (c) 2017 by Bree NicGarran

(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)

#witchcraft #witchblr #witch community #witch tips #potions and powders #spells #spooky season #dealing with dead people #Pestlework

[sweetdreamsofgelato]

Intrusive Thoughts

(gif from google)

Pairing: Henry x Reader (You)

Summary: Henry's feeling self-critical. Hurt/Comfort; fluff with mildly spicy undertones; see author's note below

Rating: T/M just to be safe

Word Count: 1378

Warnings/Content: RPF; mild references to body image issues/body dysmorphia

A/N:

I saw this post earlier reblogged by @itsrubberbisquit and this is me giving Henry an internet hug 🥺

It's barely edited. I'm quite literally yeeting this into the hellscape and running.

Unbeta-ed. All mistakes are my own.

Reposting my works on any other sites or platforms is strictly prohibited (my official AO3 is linked in my master list). Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated.

“Henry! What’s going on? I keep hearing thumping.” 

You swung the bedroom door wide to find Henry standing in front of the wall-to-wall wardrobes, the once neatly organised contents of which were haphazardly spilt forth across every surface. A soft, woollen jumper dangling from a lone hanger fell onto a pile beneath it. You caught Henry’s eye in the full-length mirror as he let out a low, frustrated growl and ripped his shirt over his head.

“What in the world happened in here?”

“I’ve nothing to wear. Everything looks awful.” He threw the crumpled shirt in his hands across the room.

“Ah, I beg to differ…” you replied, your eyes scanning the debris and then him. “On both accounts.”

“Nothing fits!” Hurt underscored the annoyance in his tone. “I’m spilling over my trousers and everything makes me look…lumpy.” His fingers pinched at the perfectly normal amount of flesh above his waistband. 

His struggle, whilst not new, was clear and your heart ached for him. Was his body as chiselled as it appeared on screen? No, but that’s because he was sufficiently fed and hydrated as he ought to be. 

The unhealthy lengths actors went to for what passed as on-screen perfection were no secret and a constant point of contention. The industry only fed his insecurities, and you always butted heads over his insistence to adhere to the ridiculous standards for the sake of remaining competitive. The extremity of the comments and practices made you worry about the toll on his mental and physical health. It was terrible and you had a mind to find every person who was rude or unnecessarily critical of his appearance and give them a proper verbal thrashing. 

Instead, you sighed and walked up behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso. You pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades before resting your cheek against the warm expanse of his back and murmured, “You’re absolutely gorgeous, Henry.” 

Henry let out a disbelieving grunt. “I’ve taken too much time off at the gym. I need to get back to the grind.” He squeezed your hands as he manoeuvred out of your embrace. “Also, have you seen the state of these wrinkles?” He leaned in and inspected his face in the mirror. “I need to do something about them. Perhaps some new skincare. Maybe do something with my hair too. Too many greys…” he muttered to himself as he toed through piles of clothes until he found a pair of joggers and quickly changed. He snapped the waistband and grimaced.

You took a steadying breath and quelled the rage that welled in your chest. It wasn’t directed at Henry; it was reserved for every twat who ever made him feel unworthy in any way. 

“Sit,” you said, rather more firmly than you intended.

“Sorry?” he asked, confused.

“Sit.” You pushed the clothes off the edge of the bed and patted the downy duvet. “Please.”

Henry gave you a curious look as he pulled a hoodie over his head and shuffled to the end of the bed. You promptly stood between his knees, pointed to his lap and asked, “May I sit?”

He smirked. “I’ll be sorely disappointed if you don’t.”

Rather than letting him cradle you into his arms, you planted one knee on either side of his hips and straddled his lap. His sharp inhale signalled his surprise, but the sly wing of his eyebrow indicated he was not disappointed and was—you hoped—sufficiently distracted as well.

“Well, this is unexpected,” he murmured as his hands slowly ran the length between your knees and hips. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of your bottom. 

You squirmed. Henry made an approving noise in this throat and your brain fought your baser urges for domain. You wrapped your arms around his neck and settled into a comfortable position. “Calm down, Cavill.” 

Henry groaned into your ear. “You’re not making it easy.”

“Good.” You ground down on his lap for good measure. “That’s payback for the cheeky arse-grab.” He shamelessly groped you again and you laughed. “Stop. I have something to say and you’re going to listen.”

“I do appreciate when you take charge.” His lust-darkened eyes flicked to your lips and his tongue darted out to moisten his own. “Is it something sexy?”

“Henry…” you warned, mostly because if he kept looking at you like that, your mind would cease functioning altogether.

“Ok, fine.” Henry’s hands gently rested on your hips. “I’ll be good…for now.”

You dropped a quick kiss on the tip of his nose and speared your fingers through his hair. Henry always let it grow out when on a break and toying with the soft curls was a favourite pastime. He hummed contentedly, his head dropping back as his eyes fluttered shut.

“I love your hair,” you said, “and every grey one is a uniquely special thread of wisdom marking the passage of time.”

He didn’t open his eyes, but they crinkled at the edges with humour. “How poetic.”

You scrunched your nose and gently tugged on an errant curl. “Shush. I’m trying to flatter you.”

He suppressed a smile and pulled you in closer. “Do continue.”

“And these,” your fingertips traced the delicate creases across his forehead and around the corners of his eyes and mouth, “are a record of all your happy memories, imprinted each time you laugh wholeheartedly and your smile reaches your eyes.” 

Henry awkwardly cleared his throat and sounded somewhat embarrassed to be under your scrutiny. “You’re making me blush.”

He wasn’t lying. You smiled smugly at the tinges of pink dusting his cheekbones. 

“Good.”

You kneaded his tense shoulders and followed down the hard lines of his biceps until his muscles relaxed. Your hands snaked under his hoodie and you indulged in a bit of tender groping of your own. The colour in his cheeks deepened. His throat bobbed and his lips parted, and it took every ounce of your will not to nip at them with your teeth. 

“When I look at you, I see the strength of will and your determination, but also the softness of finding simple pleasures that life would be meaningless without.” 

He flinched when you smoothed over the supple sides of his abdomen. “I’m pretty sure that’s last Sunday’s roast.”

“Which was utterly delicious,” you answered without hesitation, placing a kiss on the side of his neck. “You spent all day preparing that magnificent feast and deserved to enjoy every bite.”

“I did, but—”

“No buts, and I’m not done admiring.”

He tsked. “You’re bossy.”

“And you love it.”

“You may be right,” he grumbled.

You extracted your hands and brought them to cradle his face, tracing a thumb over his bottom lip and across his sharp jawline. Henry’s gaze finally met yours. Behind the fiery want, you knew he battled with his demons and you wanted nothing more than to help him vanquish them. 

Your forehead rested against his as your hand drifted down and stopped in the centre of his chest. “But the best bit is that none of that really matters because the most beautiful thing about you is right here. No matter what you look like, you’ve got a heart that loves fiercely and endlessly, and I’m thankful every day that it loves me.”

“Jesus…” Henry’s voice wobbled under a sudden rush of emotion. He yanked you against his chest, nestled his face into the curve of your neck and breathed deeply. 

A protracted silence settled as you held him, gently stroking the base of his neck as he processed. When he finally looked up, he was blinking back the moisture that threatened to spill over. He brought your hands to his lips and gingerly kissed your palms. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You don’t need to do or be anything to deserve love, Henry. You are, just as you are, and I can't help but love you.”

Henry dragged your lips to his and kissed you so long and hard that you risked becoming a barely sentient puddle. He released your mouth with a gasp, his voice ragged as he asked, “Do I have permission to grab your arse now?”

“Oh, yes,” you laughed, pulling his mouth back to yours. “Please do.”

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #henry x you #henry cavill rpf #rpf #sweetdreamsofgelato writes #fic: intrusive thoughts

[dnsbarbie]

DEAR READER | C.L 16 (FOUR)

Pairings: Charles Leclerc X Intern!OC

Warnings: Google translated French, degrading headline, people who don’t mind their own business

Note: There’s a reason I’m dragging the fuck out of this story. It’s gonna be worth it, I promise !!!!

❝Dear reader,

If it feels like a trap, you’re

already in one ❞

THE BRILLIANT ILLUMINATED ELEVATOR cradled through the rapidly infectious tension in Natalia’s bloodstream. The gap between her and the equally as anxious Monegasque caused the ongoing brawl in their heads to amplify. She glanced down at the carpeted flooring, casually shifting her gaze to the shuffling feet of her company.

She let her thoughts wonder somewhere else, opting to think about the disastrous path they had to conquer in order to acquire the tranquility they have at the moment. Although, her trembling hands and the intensive battering of her chest generated the thought that perhaps road raging in Charles’ Ferrari to avoid the prying eyes of the general public provided a greater deal of enjoyment than this.

“I was thinking,” Charles spoke, moistening his drought lips. “Since it’s your first time here in Netherlands, I’d like you to try authentic Dutch dishes from the restaurant the team took me to last year.”

Natalia nodded, half of her mind floating into a dreamless space. “That sound great,” She faced him, hoping to defy the rising tide of her anxiety. “I honestly didn’t know anything about Dutch culture until I did a quick research about their food.”

Charles didn’t contain his smile, finally looking at the brunette. His gaze journeyed to her luscious naturally straight chestnut locks, previously tied into a neat ponytail but was now released from the gathered style, falling graciously passed her shoulders.

He snapped back into his regular self as he reached the line of her eyes. Immediately saving himself as he followed up on her statement. “Oh? And what did you find?”

Charles despised the way she’d tuck her bottom lip in her every time she needed a second to gather her thoughts. Couldn’t she just think like a normal person?

“Apparently, there’s this food called Profferjes?” She struggled pronouncing the supposed name given to the delicacy she was referring to.

Charles’ face brightened in amusement at her confused appearance but he nevertheless, nodded, having an idea of what she was talking about.

“The mini pancakes?”

Rhapsody laved across her once perplexed expression, pointing a finger at his direction before confirming his guess.

“Yes! That one— but I think they only serve them in the morning,” She sighed, eyes lingering at Charles. A sudden concept bubbled in her mind, showing in her face as a small simper.

The judgement was also beginning to bloom on Charles’ face as he took note of the naught sparkle in Natalia’s orbs.

“Unless— you know—” She drawled her words, making the smile on the receiver of her antics widen. “Charles Leclerc were to call in—”

He disintegrated into a pile of frenzy at that. Clutching his stomach as his laughter, joined in by Natalia’s own, bounced uncontrollably against the four walls of the enclosed space.

“I’m not sure they’d do their beloved Max Verstappen’s rival a favor.” He acknowledged.

“Oh—right.” Natalia had completely forgotten that Max was Dutch. She knew Charles meant it as a joke but the harsh reality seemed to have overtaken its intended merits.

Then again, she was quick to dispel the impending depressive state. “You know, according to my research, Dutch people are very friendly even if they like speak their mind . . .”

An appreciative hum sounded at the back of Charles’ throat, thankful for her efforts of comfort and the ding of the elevator that indicated their arrival to his floor.

In an unconscious move, he reached for Natalia’s hand, grasping it gently in his. To which the latter responded by gawking at him while they both stalked through the nicely lit corridor.

Charles’ room was two doors away from the very last one, and when they arrived, he tapped in his key card, never seeming to have the intention of releasing the chilling palm that rested in his hold.

As the door opened, along with the grating creak of the door was the heightening of Natalia’s senses. The fresh scent of lavender infiltrated the previous musing scouring at her wits.

She inhaled the saving grace of her sanity, finding the soothing aroma also matched the overall aesthetic of his room.

The fuzzy brown carpet at the center of the room adorned the flooring, to which an oval glass coffee table was placed

“Sit wherever you want,” He said, freeing her hand. “Make yourself feel comfortable.”

As he started to walk away, Natalia bent down balancing her weight with her hand on the doorframe as she untied the laces of her boots.

Charles turned to her, hearing the sudden rustling. “You don’t have to take your shoes off,”

She immediately halted her actions, eyebrows wrinkled at the absurdity of all that. “There’s no way I’m stepping my shoes on a carpet,”

The crease in her eyebrows worsen at that thought of her mother. She could almost see the utter disgust on her face when she finds out Europeans don’t particularly care for what she called “unknown bacteria” spreading through their home.

She set her boots aside, plopping on the pearl colored seating. “My mom would’ve strangled you if she heard you say that,”

Her remark made Charles chuckle, shaking his head on his way to the kitchen. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Depends.” She thought, reaching for a magazine on the coffee table. “What are you having?”

Natalia heard a series of cabinet creaking followed by clinks of what she assumed was glass.

“Well, of you’re craving something sweet, I have orange juice and iced tea,” He replied, peaking his head on the doorframe.

Charles took in the sight of Natalia’s wandering eyes on his apartment, ignoring the sudden pang of nervousness creeping up on him.

The curious girl whipped her head towards his waiting figure, lips pursing with a uncaring shrug. “I’m good with that. But if you want to drink something. . . stronger, I wouldn’t judge.”

She watched the chuckle bloom out of Charles’ relaxed features, before disappearing back into the kitchen.

While he was arranging beverages, Natalia reviewed what he had observed from his apartment.

Firstly, she found it surprising that he owned a living space in this country. Him always hopping on a jet to different countries every week, defeats the purpose of buying one. It didn’t look like he used it often either.

It had one of those minimal modern designs. Like the ones she’d see whenever she was at Summit Furniture, a furniture store she frequented at in Monaco. She currently sat on a white polyester loveseat with tapered rosewood legs that angled outwards. It all seemed like they’ve just been bought yesterday. No scratches on the wooden legs nor flaws in the fabric seating. Same goes for the rest of his furniture that she had seen so far.

The television looked like it had yet to serve its purpose and the tables be marked with any stain or evidences of usage.

Her deep observation caused a barricading and tension within her sense. The unbelievable tidiness and perfection of her surroundings made her more conscious of her actions.

“Here we are!” Charles’ unforeseen appearance rattled her core, prompting her to sit up straighter. He had brought a tray of various drinks.

Natalia eyed the colorful liquids in different types of glasses. Some in one in a high ball, champagne and cocktail glass. Beside those were a bottle of Heineken and Jenever.

She bit the inside of her cheek, trapping the laughter threatening to pull through, settling for a supportive nod.

“I’m guessing this is the orange juice?” She plucked the high ball glass from the tray, a teasing smile adorning her face.

“Yes, it is,” Charles took out his phone, the unwavering nerves still present in his veins. “I know I said I’ll order for you, but here’s the menu, you might see something you like—”

She raised his hands, shaking her head. “Trust me, the only food I’m sure are gonna be are Stroopwafel and those ball shaped snack I ate at the paddock. Besides, I’m not picky with food, I’ll swallow anything you give me.”

Charles’ thumbs stopped their typing, his lips thinning at the intrusive thought in his head.

Anything, huh?

“You’re disgusting—”

“I didn’t say—”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“You didn’t have to! It’s written all over your face!” Natalia growled, motioning to the idiotic smirk hanging of his face across her.

“Think what you want,” Charles chimed, resuming his attention to his device. “That’s what I’m doing anyway hmpf—”

A soft object suddenly collided at his face, laughing as he realized that Natalia had thrown a pillow at him.

He removes it from obstructing his view, glancing up at the glowering figure in front of him, now bringing her lips close to the tall glass of juice.

“Give the phone. . .” She said, extending her arm forwards for Charles to pass her the device.

He hands it to her, inclining his body towards her. “I personally love Hachee, it’s meat with mash potatoes and gravy—”

“Frog legs!”

Charles stopped talking, staring stupidly at her exclamation. A wide smile plastered on her face as she turned the phone towards him and pointed to the certain dish.

“You eat frogs?” Charles didn’t mean for it to sound condescending, but the overpowering shock at this discovery halted all sense of thinking.

“Yeah? And?” At her defensive tone, Charles quickly held his hands up, waving them at her.

“No! That’s not what I mean!” He scratched the back of his head, hoping to ward away the embarrassment of his mistake. “I-I just mean, you’re the first girl I’ve met who’s actually excited to eating frogs,”

Natalia raised an eyebrow at Charles. “That can’t be true, frogs are eaten a lot in Manaco,”

“Doesn’t mean everybody likes them,” Charles remarked, taking the bottle opener from the table before twisting it on a Heineken beer.

Natalia watched him take a sip, crossing her arms at his statement. “You mean to say— of all the Monegasque girls you’ve dated— not a single one ate frogs?”

Charles felt amusement trickling at his through as he spotted the doubt on her face. “Well, I did let them try it.” He restored. “But they either pretended to like it or just straight up told me, quite frankly that they’d rather eat dirt.”

Natalia lights up at that, bringing her hands together in an mirthful clap. “At least some were honest about it,”

Charles nodded, glancing up at her as he began to wonder wether or not he should consume more alcohol to gain the courage to ask her questions that may be deemed too personal. Threading lightly on the subject, he reached for the Daquiri, giving in to its undeniable seductive calling.

“Is it a common food in the Philippines?” He asked, eyes traveling to the curvature of her expression.

Natalia’s lips disconnected from the cold glass rim, licking away the numbness spreading through her mouth. “Not exactly all over the country, but in my province, we do eat it a lot,” A mirror of nostalgia passes by her eyes, slotting in the depths of her memories.

Charles observed as she spaced out, blankly staring at the wooden coffee table. Instead of snapping her out of her trans, he waited patiently for her to regain her train of thought.

Blinking rapidly, the fog of her brain slowly disappeared, a large intake of breath released from her lungs before she cleared her throat.

As she craned her neck back to the person she was talking to, her heart lurched at her throat at the intensity of his stare. His eyes were drowned in unbelievable intent, as if she’d disappear if he was to look away.

“Let’s play that game again,” He said, softly.

“What?”

“That game in the car. 20 questions,” He clarified, tilting his head at her, “I want to play it again.”

Dread filled her mind, mouth beginning to ache, along with the slight tremble of her voice. “Why?”

“We’re going to spend a lot of time together,” He pointed out. “I’ve know you for quite a while but I don’t know anything about you. . .”

“There’s nothing to know,” She huffed, eyebrows coming together in a pinch. “My life isn’t interesting in the slightest.”

Charles narrowed his eyes at her, careful not to overstep. “I’ll ask basic questions then,”

She scrunched her face up at him. “Like what?”

With his eyes on her, he shrugged. “How did you end up in Monaco?”

“That’s not—” She sighed, pulsing her palms into an alternating clench. Her hands came up to snatch the beer off the table, taking a large gulp of it.

This was not a good idea from the start but then again, she made no complaints about it either.

Setting the bottle down with a loud clank, she tuts at his waiting figure. “I applied for the scholarship grant, almost failed the final interview, found out I didn’t, and— lo and behold, I’m here.”

The vagueness of her answer made Charles roll his eyes. “You almost failed? Why?” He questioned.

Natalia frowned at him, wagging her finger up at his line of vision. “No—no, it’s my turn,”

Charles sighed, defeated, downing a shot of tequila as the former thought of her first question. “Who’s your favorite sibling?”

Taken aback, he smiled at her random choice of words. “I don’t have one,”

His answer was met by a judgmental glance. “Boo! Everybody has one. Come on!”

Hesitation reeled him in with the desire to end thos query immediately. So, with all the shame warped into a giant ball in his heart. Je all but murmured a name.

“Sorry, say that again?” He could practically feel the teasing smirk on her face as she neared her ear on his mouth.

His eyes fluttered close, amusement and annoyance dancing at his veins. “I said, Arthur—”

She laughed, finding his imminent torture to have soothe her pounding heart. “Don’t feel bad, it’s pretty obvious anyway,”

At that, Charles didn’t indulge in her usual provocative style. Instead, thwacking her back with another personal question.

“What do your parents to for a living?”

She coughed, the sharp taste of alcohol pricking at her throat as it violently drew back to her nose.

“Are you okay?” The concern etched visible at the lines of Charles’ face as he stood up to hand her a tissue. He sat next to her, plucking more out of the box as she attempted to stop the liquid pouring out from her nostrils.

She gratefully took the tissue from him, blowing her nose into it. She would’ve found it embarrassing as she heard the disgusting noise it made as she emptied her now stinging nose of the culprit if it weren’t for her spinning mind.

She wiped her jeans, trying to play it cool as she responded. “My parents— My mom was an accountant and my dad— he. . . used to trade oil.”

Charles peaked onto her face, wiping of the remnants of beer on her cheek. “What’s wrong with that?”

Natalia swallowed the painful block of her throat, hand coming up to where he had his on her face. “Nothing. . . I-it’s not their jobs. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask about my parents.”

“We—”

The loud ringing of a phone interrupted their conversation. Natalia felt the vibration in her bag before she realized it was hers.

This dispelled the heavy ambiance of the atmosphere, waking the occupants from their trance.

Oh shit, Natalia thought as she saw the caller’s name flash on her phone.

Nicolas Todt

As soon as she pressed the green button signifying her death, the device was gone, only to be taken by the tutting Monegasque beside her.

She immediate shuffled up, desperately trying to get the phone out of his grip. It was too late, however, as he stood up at the sound of his manager’s voice.

Deflating in defeat, Natalia hopelessly smothered her head on the soft cushion’s of the couch.

“Hello?”

“What are yo— Hello? Charles? Is that you?”

Natalia winced at the pure hostility in Nicolas’ tone. Even after figuring out that the taker of the call was indeed his well-loved client, it didn’t quell the scorching heat of his flaming outrage.

“Oui c'est moi. Quoi de neuf?” Yes, it’s me. What’s up?

In contrast to Charles’ collected attitude, Natalia could feel her insides churning slowly into a blob of mush. Her only wish was for Charles not to ruin this job for her was beggining to whither away with the his careless actions.

“Quoi de neuf?” What’s up? Nicolas echoed, his sharp scoff going through the phone’s speaker and stabbing Natalia directly in the deepest part of her chest.

“Vous n'avez pas vérifié votre téléphone?” He spat, as it were acid poured on his tongue.

At the word phone, Natalia’s head shot up from the condoling compressor of her resting place, panicking as she searched for her phone.

The cumulus fog accumulating her head, clouded the clarity of her thinking, making her forget that someone else had possessed the thing she was looking for.

Charles nodded along to the string of profanities Nicolas kept rambling through his ear, shifting her attention to the frightened girl on his couch. Her heightened vigilance evident as trembling her hands patted wildly along his furniture.

He aided her frantic movements with a soft brush of his hand on her cheek, tapping his thumb on her paled skin.

Natalia whipped her head around to face him, breathing out of sigh of relief as she followed his finger pointing to his phone.

Wasting no time, she snagged it off the table, nearly shoving it on Charles’ face when it demanded a passcode after failing the face recognition system.

Charles careened his head backwards to avoid the object barreling into his face.

Natalia waited, anxiously fiddling with the stitchings of her clothing, as the daunting atmosphere worsened every second that passed by.

She almost tore Charles’ entire arm from his body by the vast amount of force she exerted at him. Quickly tapping on Google app, her hands shook as they hovered over the keys, thoughts failing to conjure words she needed.

“Charles Leclerc girlfriend. . .” A whisper came next to her.

She gritted her teeth at the awful joke. Perhaps as knew it wasn’t an impossible headline. It dawned to her the severity of their offense as she typed his name on the search bar.

It appears that her groan of indignation was loud enough for Nicolas’ ears as Natalia heard his mocked version of it despite being on Charles’ space.

“Did you see it?” Nicolas queried, his tone unreadable.

Natalia turned the screen to Charles’ vision. And the idiot had the audacity to laugh.

Merely hacking into his balled fist, the presence of his teeth behind his lips irritated both Nicolas and Natalia.

In disgustingly big letters, the headline read:

Natalia swiped at the screen, ticking her brow in victory as the smile drained visibly off his face at what she had shown.

“Now, that’s not funny. . .”

You don’t say. . .” She gritted, padding a hand on her chest to feign shock.

Charles offered her an apologetic pat on the head of the sneering girl. The latter slapped his hand away, force firm but not enough to do any harm.

Natalia could hear the faint murmurs of Nicolas before his voice was amplified by Charles’ simple tap of the speaker phone.

“Listen, both of you,” He commended. “Gossip magazines aren’t exactly fond of what ever it is you’re doing.”

“I am so sorry—”

“You are not.” The dripping venom in his tone made Natalia flinch back, leaning away from the source of his voice as if he were to pop out of the screen. “I don’t know what you were both thinking but luckily social media loved your little rendezvous.”

Silence fell between the scolded individuals, eyes creeping up to see the other’s reaction. Like staring directly at a mirror, they alined body language that could only be read as confusion.

“So. . . That means?” Natalia trailed, leveling her vocals in light of steering clear of another possible volcanic eruption from Nicolas.

“It means. . .” Nicolas pressed, annoyance still present. “You have to continue your. . . what you call it?”

Natalia listen intently as Nicolas asked someone for the word he was searching for. “The what? Oh— yes that. . . Your situationship.”

“Ew no!” Natalia’s extreme protest was met with sheer bewilderment on Charles’ part, struggling to process the meaning of the foreign term.

“What is that? What’s a situationship?”

At his question, Natalia stirred back to him, giving him a look of disbelief. Nicolas on the other hand simply clicked his tongue, sighing brfore supplying the answer to his client.

“They’re two people who have no sense of direction regarding their relationship.” He explained, and though he cannot see the expression on Charles’ face, he knew very well what it was.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Natalia’s jaw slackened, palm slapping on his forehead. And although she knew Nicolas’ explanation of situationship was a fairly watered down version of the real deal, she didn’t have the strength to further Charles’ knowledge on the subject.

Nicolas ignored his question. “We’ll talk more about this tomorrow. I advise you to not step out of that building until daylight.”

Natalia’s eyes widened at that. “What? You want me to stay here?”

“Certainly.” He concluded.

Sensation drained completely from her body. The electric feeling of lacking blood, slowly spread in an infectious manner. With it, the chill of reality came to set in.

“I’ve already informed Toto of the situation.”

As if it wasn’t enough, after hearing that, the lavender scent of the atmosphere that was thought to have the a calming effect seemed impotent, in comparison to the vigorous hold this ghastly chain of anxiety had on her.

Of all the things she feared, the idea of disappointing Toto Wolff and Susie Wolff was an absolute nightmare. How could she face the people who gave her the opportunity of a life time if she were to do dim-witted things like this?

In the midst of her internal battle, her head stirred to the cause of her misbehavior. He just so happened to be looking at her as well.

Unlike the pointed glare she blatantly jabbed into his face, Charles offered her a worried glance that could bloom flowers on his pretty little head.

Despite her scornful demeanor, she couldn’t shake away the guilt of being in this position. She was aware that it wasn’t Charles’ fault alone but perhaps putting all the blame in him would ease her desire to simply jump on a boat and abandon everything she ever dreamed in her life.

Natalia recoiled at the sudden warmth on her arm. Look towards the source, she relaxed at the sight of Charles’ hand on her skin.

He had ended the call, sitting back down on his previous place. “How do you want to do this?”

Natalia heaved a heavy sigh, afraid that the force might collapse her lungs. “I honestly can’t think of anything else but being fired. . .”

Charles took her hand in a grip that he could only hope held the comfort he was trying to induce. “You won’t. I’m the reason you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”

“You better. . .” She huffed, shoving a strong palm at his shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look my classmates in the eye when I have to go back to University, though.”

“When do you have to go back?” He asked.

“In three days. We have to submit a report every two weeks regarding our performance.” She expounded, thinking about the sour look on her headmaster’s face at the sight of his achingly popular student walking in her office.

“Well, in that case, you can say that you helped me increase my fanbase by 2% in just three weeks.” Charles tried to provide a consolation.

Natalia hummed, lips curling as she was reminded of that information. “You make it sound like I’m a one-man team. . .” She shook her head.

She was sure that Charles’ PR team wouldn’t appreciate her taking all the credit for the improvements in the Ferrari driver’s personal accounts.

“Probably not. But most of it was your idea.”

It was intended to aid the boisterous voices crowding the little space left in her brain that wasn’t consumed by the nauseating noise of failure but alas proved to be ineffective as she abruptly stood up and took her phone from Charles’ lap.

Tapping the number she knew would cover the gaping hole of fear continuously scraping at her brain.

She watched as her phone started ringing, the name of her partner in crime flashing on the screen.

Lissie

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