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mystellenia · 1 month

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giving ellie a hoodie full of kisses ୨ৎ

summary: you paint a hoodie with kisses for ellie, and the gesture flusters her.

content: nothing much, just ellie being shy

notes: answer to this req!! i'm trying a new format of posts. sometimes i see people do not quite hcs but also not quite a normal, paragraph-formatted fic. its this in between of bullet points????? idk lemme know if yall like it

(wc 0.6 k)

after spending an hour on painting your lips and pressing them to the cloth of the hoodie you'd gotten for ellie, you sat back and examined your work

you had to admit: the hoodie looked beautiful. but! you did not!!!! your lips were stained red from the paint, your back hurt from hunching over to kiss the hoodie, and you'd probably ingested about an ounce of red40!!! (i know red 40 is in food but let me be silly)

after washing the paint that had gotten on your skin off in the sink, you ironed the sweatshirt to seal the paint in (don't ask me how that works bc idk i just saw it on tiktok like 10 mins ago)

and now we wait for ellie to come home!!

when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them. one day she's gonna take a step and they're gonna turn into a cloud of dust i swear

anyway you're sitting on the couch with your phone in your lap, the painted sweatshirt folded into a square with the kisses hidden inside. she walks towards you and gives you a lil kissy kiss on the forehead like hiiii

you get all smiley because you're excited for her to see the sweatshirt and she gets all suspish.... like what's so funny....

sooooooo.... you tell her you made her something and unfold the hoodie and hold it up to your body so she can see the full thing. and she would soooo get all beet red, like, "...you made this for me?"

and you're like "yes of course do you like it queen" then she gets over the like flusteredness (????(actually i revoke my ???? bc i just made that a word)) and gets so happi like yayyy!!!!

then she looks all confused at your lips and is like "is that why your lips look so severely chapped and red?"

and you get mad so you take away kiss privileges so she does the only reasonable thing which is putting you in a headlock to force kiss you

would definitely immediately put it on and go look in the mirror at her with it on. she'll start geeking and thank you and all that jazz

she would wear that shit 24/7. sleeping working showering shitting ANYWHERE best believe she has that hoodie on. and you tell her its been like 2 weeks of her wearing it nonstop so she needs to wash it but she refuses bc she doesn't want the kisses to start fading. u wash it anyway bc its dirty and she cold shoulders you for about 30 mins before she sees some dumb reel she just has to show you (me fr).

i feel like she's a hot sleeper--like she gets too hot at night to wear the hoodie but she still wants it so she'll just hold it as a baby blanket of sorts and Whatnot.

wait very unrelated but does anyone have a baby blanket that they've had for so long its like basically just threads thats so funny

but overall she loves it. she likes to kiss the kiss prints you made on the sweatshirt bc it's "like kissing you."

there was one time she couldn't find it for like 2 days (because you'd washed it since she never does) and she tried to act all nonchalant and unaffected like she wasn't about to start tweaking and like twitching

then you gave it to her all calm because it was literally just in the wash and she was like "what😨😨😨 where did you find it😨😨😨" and you just tell her it was in the wash and shes like "oh that makes sense"

pls im so sorry. before i say anything i would like to formally apologize to the anon who submitted the ask for this bc this is so shit. you ask me for a product and this is how i repay you!! shame on me. please dilly dally on over to my asks and ask me something else so i can actually, i don't know, do a good job!! this ask was cute tho u ate with that

@picklesarenice69

wow i very strongly dislike this format so much this is the first and last time i will be doing this!!! i’m only posting this bc its been like a week since i last posted and the citizens will soon revolt, which the city's defenses cannot afford!! we're about to run out of wheat like times are getting tough. maybe i should just try just headcanons 🤔

can you tell i was fighting demons to not make this my normal vocab and format. like just look at this sentence and how it progresses: "when she finally comes in, she throws her keys on the table near the door and toes her dusty, disintegrating, been-to-bethlehem-and-back converse, bc have you seen them." the way that sentence progresses is just the silly demons taking over and also my coping mechanism for grimacing at how much i didnt mesh with this format

like i just couldnt take myself seriously. "yes of course do you like it queen" HELLO??? WHY DID I TYPE THAT but i will not be fixing and/or deleting it bc its making me giggle

dont get me wrong some of you ladies chew it up but i am made for unreasonably long and time consuming fics!!! i’m getting heated too bc not only is this so short and quick to do but it also takes less focus and brain power and ofc i had to make things hard for myself and hate it!!! i’m soooooooooooo silly

click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶

---

edit: wait i would like to clarify that i just hate this because perhaps i’m not used to it. if you guys like this maybe i'll do more bc i follow the clout always 💯

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renmorris · 5 months

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but no seriously fic where Harrier gets access to competent medical care and gets all his diagnosises neatly labeled and squared away and gets medication miss the point of disco elysium so fucking bad.

it’s a social murder murder mystery. your mystery isn’t just solving the death of the hanged man it’s solving the 'death' of the other hanged man, Harry. as you play and learn more about Revachol and his own past, that he’s extremely disabled, that he grew up in a war zone and lives in an occupied nation where basic municipal services are unavailable, that he can call his doctor who basically tells him to fuck off and die.

you are supposed to be becoming intimately acquainted with the reality of Harry’s life and why he is face down in the gutter on the edge of death to begin with. there’s this really annoying habit of more privileged though I’m sure well meaning fans who act like Harry’s had these resources available to him forever and that he is choosing to die painfully as he works himself to death

there is a steady current of victim blaming Harry in fanworks, whether it’s painting his shitty ableist coworkers as his caregivers that he never appreciated enough or just saying that Harry doesn’t try hard enough to get better and reach out to these medical professionals that do not fucking exist in this setting where he can reach them

I do not know why it is so hard to look at a man on fire and realize he’s burning because there’s no one trying to help him put the flames out

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quickgirl · 5 months

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The Astrology of Fame: Jupiter and Pluto's Link to Superstardom

Jupiter expands and Pluto intensifies. When these two connect in the natal chart, something magical happens.

Note: Not everyone with a Jupiter/Pluto link is going to explode in popularity and become household names echoed around the world for decades to come. Not every star has the Jupiter/Pluto link, either. However, this is a theme I've (and others) have noticed more often than not in the charts of people who have had their breakthrough.

In the many charts I've seen, almost every single celebrity had an aspect to their Jupiter/Pluto midpoint OR Jupiter and Pluto connected through a different midpoint instead (i.e Jupiter conjunct Moon/Pluto midpoint). It seems to be a far more accurate and reoccurring marker than just a natal aspect between the two planets (though that shouldn't be ignored, either).

I believe long-time astrologer, Basil Fearrington, was the first to notice the link between wealth and the Jupiter/Pluto midpoint. Even though midpoints only tend to count when activated through a hard aspect (conjunction, square, and opposition), Basil surmised that the Jupiter/Pluto midpoint is so potent that even soft aspects should be considered.

The late and wonderful Marga, creator of Dutch astrology website "Astromarkt", took it a step further and said that the Jupiter/Pluto midpoint didn't even need to be activated. The two planets conjoining at all in any midpoint combination (or through natal aspects) was enough to generate immense potential for power and fame.

Soft aspects are not generally considered in midpoint astrology. The reasoning for that is because sextiles and trines require little to no effort. The owner of them may or may not ever put those talents to use, and thus the potential of certain aspects and midpoints may never get recognized. But I think that's underselling it a bit. We do use them, we're just not privy to honing them in the way we would a hard aspect.

Humans have a penchant for believing that suffering equals greater reward, therefore we're far more likely to try and understand then tame a Mars sq. Pluto and let the Venus trine Jupiter do its own thing in the background virtually untouched. Sometimes semi-squares and sesquiquadrates are taken into consideration in midpoint astrology, but their influence is weak. If they can get their day in the limelight, I'm also giving some to the sextile and trine. They obviously have a purpose or else the aspect wouldn't even exist.

Now if you'd like to check for this theme yourself, use Astro.com. The drop-down menu for "Chart drawing style" has two different midpoint options. Ebertin chart allows for a wider orb of up to 2°, but only shows major hard aspects. Keller has a much smaller orb, but also shows soft aspects and parallels/contra-parallels. I use both.

With the clerical info out of the way, let's gain more insight into the Jupiter/Pluto energy itself. Astrologer John Sandbach describes it as such:

A tremendous desire to learn and to grow, and to acquire power, be it of the more intangible, mental sort, or worldly in nature. Driving, unstoppable enthusiasm. A relentless urge toward excess. The ability to transform how things are organized. To have big ideas and far-reaching aims. Going to great extremes. The persistent urge to do whatever is needed to overcome problems. Grandiosity. Religious fanaticism.

Jupiter/Pluto promises a larger than life persona with strong intellect and passions to stitch it all together. Think not of just musicians, models, and actors, but of cult leaders, gourmands, CEO's, luxury jewelry salespeople, and even fine art collectors who amass the rarest of paintings. There is a salient and recognizable power and privilege. Clearly fame isn't the only highlight here.

But if you are fixated on fame, what kind are we even talking about? 15-second TikTok fame? One-hit wonders and Meghan Trainor's of the world who have a shelf life of 2 years then respawn 10 years later because of a viral tweet? Absolutely not. These are the stars you never forget who cannot be compared to others. Rather, others are compared to them. They set the standard and are known everywhere, even outside of their home country. They amass wealth, power, respect, and create a legacy.

May the examples below speak for themselves.

Very well-known celebrities with aspects to their Jupiter/Pluto midpoint:

Ariana Grande (Saturn trine)

Zayn Malik (ASC trine)

Jeon Jungkook (Sun trine)

Selena Gomez (Mercury sextile; Saturn trine; Neptune square)

Conan O'Brien (Saturn trine)

Tom Cruise (Saturn trine; Node sextile)

Marilyn Monroe (MC conjunct)

George Clooney (Mercury opposite; Uranus square)

Brad Pitt (MC square)

Leonardo DiCaprio (ASC contra-parallel)

Beyoncé (Saturn & Mercury contra-parallel)

Cristiano Ronaldo (Uranus conjunct)

Naomi Campbell (Moon sextile)

Taylor Swift (Neptune trine)

Barack Obama (ASC square)

Very well-known celebrities with an active midpoint that contains Jupiter and Pluto together:

Rihanna (Jupiter square Moon/Pluto)

Meryl Streep (Pluto trine Moon/Jupiter)

Kurt Cobain (Pluto sextile Moon/Jupiter)

Al Pacino (Pluto square Sun/Jupiter; Pluto square Jupiter/Saturn)

Zendaya (Pluto parallel Moon/Jupiter)

Angelina Jolie (Jupiter opposite Uranus/Pluto; Pluto contra-parallel Jupiter/ASC; Pluto parallel Jupiter/S.Node)

Stephen Colbert (Jupiter square Venus/Pluto; Jupiter square Pluto/Node; Pluto parallel Venus/Jupiter)

Timothée Chalamet (Jupiter conjunct Mercury/Pluto)

Joaquin Phoenix (Jupiter trine Neptune/Pluto)

Nicole Kidman (Jupiter parallel Mercury/Pluto)

Robert De Niro (Jupiter conjunct Pluto/Node)

Kim Kardashian (Jupiter parallel Moon/Pluto)

Priyanka Chopra (Pluto conjunct Jupiter/Saturn; Pluto parallel Mercury/Jupiter)

Margot Robbie (Jupiter sextile Pluto/ASC; Pluto trine Sun/Jupiter; Pluto trine Mercury/Jupiter)

Drake (Jupiter trine Venus/Pluto; Pluto sextile Sun/Jupiter)

From all of the midpoint combinations, Moon/Jupiter/Pluto was the most prevalent. For this post I personally combed through the midpoints of about 45 celebrities total with 30 making the cut here. The other ~15 did not have an active Jupiter/Pluto midpoint nor an active midpoint combination with them. What they did have was a natal aspect between the two planets in their chart, or Jupiter and Pluto both made an aspect to either their Sun, Moon, ASC, or MC within 7°.

If I had to speculate on short-term fame aka "fast rise, even faster fall", I'd wager those kinds of viral sensations have a transit hitting their Jupiter/Pluto midpoint instead, and the lack of natal support can only push it so far. This is something I have to do more research on.

All done! Thank you for reading. This is my first real astrology post. I'm not sure if I'll ever write more as I prefer to lurk, but who knows. Ciao🌷

Sources: (1), (2), (3), (4) + astrotheme.com for providing the birth details

#astrology #midpoint astrology #fame astrology #astrology observations #astro notes #astro observations #astrology notes #so many tags my goodness

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not-goldy · 14 days

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it’s no wonder Baekhyun's kfans are this deranged. he feeds into their delusions and he’s not even subtle about it. you get the fans you deserve. Him and Jungkook are the same. They sell parasocial relationships hard and it's gonna bite them in their ass one day. Weird cause these two have the talent in both singing and dancing, can't y'all just sell music instead.

I saw this comment under a pannchao post and most kpop fans and army agree to it. This is why I don't feel anything when JK is dragged through mud for some dating rumors. He's the one who fuels gf×bf dynamics with his fans, he's the one who deny having partner and only having army as his gf, he's the one who goes overboard with fanservice while other idols nor bts members does the same even if they do the same job as him, so obviously he's gonna get the fruit of it 🤷‍♀️ Do he think he can fool the f out of his fans and then have a peaceful dating life ? Either you draw clear borders with fans or you don't date.. as simple as that. It's even funnier when whole world can see what's happening while there's shippers who thinks he's dating his bandmate😭 even delulu than y/ns. I don't think anyone with self respect can be in a commited relationship with JK when all he does is sex chatting with his fans in lives and satisfy their Para social bf needs. And i think Jimin has more than enough self respect to be with a person like him.

I nearly agreed with you until you name dropped Jungkook.

I agree in part because I hate the fact these straight idols hide their Relationships when they have the privilege of dating openly without being persecuted unlike queer couples.

But leave Jungkook out of this please.

cos this same Jungkook is the one who nearly threw a fist when Armies would call him baby. Same person who squares up with his fans when they tell him they don't like content he puts out on live. He just shrugs and says well I like it.

Same Jungkook who got a tattoo and keeps adding to it knowing his fans hate it, not only that he also got pierced against their will and when he was told they hated long hair he went ahead and grew it out.

While you're out here claiming he panders to his fans there are several ex Jungkook stans who hate him because they claim he is a shitty idol who only does what he likes and doesn't care what his fans like.

Same person who was told by his members he had to post for each members birthdays because the fans were not happy he wasn't yet he didn't post any way.

Same person who's life motto is that he'd rather be dead than cool.

How do you reconcile these two things???

Same person who went to Itaewon during lockdown and wouldn't apologize because "IT WAS HIS PERSONAL LIFE" had it not been the fact others had died from covid and the sensitive nature of the issue he wouldn't have apologized at all.

He can't be tagged a carefree rebellious nonconformist idol while also seen as a fan-ass-kisser at the same time. Yall would have to choose a narrative and stick with it.

Personally I believe him when he says anything.

If he doesn't have a girlfriend it's because HE DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND. yall jx not willing to stomach the fact. You are just like Tuktukkers istg.

Out of all BTS the one person who wouldn't give a flying fuck fans reaction when he's in a relationship IS JUNGKOOK. YALL WILL NOT MAKE HIM APOLOGIZE FOR LIKING WHAT OR WHO HE LIKES.

Even in our ship narratives we have this running theory that dudes always on the edge of the glass ceiling ready to shatter it to pieces but for consideration of Jimin. Even with that, every now and then he outs the dude.

He could have covered his bite marks or lied about it being an insect bite or pimle but dude just said naa that was Jimin. He be in my neck most times.

So we jokers see Jungkook waaaay differently from how yall see him. He is a complex living being not a one dimensional creature like you paint him out to be.

Fan service is part of Kpop. ALL IDOLS ENGAGE IN FAN SERVICE TO VARYING DEGREES. he's not the devil for doing fan service and while you think he doesn't have a sense of boundaries with it HE DOES. ITS JUST NOT THE BOUNDARIES YOU WISH HE HAD. SAY THAT AND GO.

ALL IDOLS TREAT THEIR FANS AS THEIR GFS AND BFS. ITS THE MONEY BLUE PRINT. ITS THEIR MARKETING STRATEGY.

AND YES, SINCE PORTRAYING THEMSELVES AS A AVAILABLE AND DOTTING ON FANS IS HOW THEY KEEP THE LOYALTY OF THEIR FANS THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY LIE ABOUT THEIR DATING LIFE. I WOULD TOO IF I WERE AN IDOL.

But that doesn't mean whenever they say they are single its a lie💀💀💀💀💀💀

They are not always in a relationship.

That doesn't also mean they are all afraid to admit the truth about their relationship status. It depends on their age, how long they've been an idol and the level of success they've attained. A new idol on the scene obviously would be committing career suicide while a veteran couldn't give a fuck.

So when you talk of young Kook starting out his career I'd understand. He was subject to the control of his company and had to deny his relationships because at that stage he'd be risking much. But this Jungkook don't care I promise you. HE DON'T CARE BOUT YALLS FEELINGS ESPECIALLY AS HIS FANS ARE GROWING WITH HIM AND ARE AT THE SAME AGE AS HIM.

Also, some idols JUST don't CARE and would readily admit it if the person they are with is the one AND THEY LOVE THEM. you seem to forget that part.

It makes no sense to claim a partner and risk your whole career for a fling or someone you don't like like that can you be for real for once in your life?

Wait- ever think about that?

Normal people do this too. What's the expression, don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband or wife 🤭

We deny relationships all the time if we aren't serious about the people we are with. Or if we aren't sure where we stand with the person.

It doesn't make us evil and idols are just like us. Not every single person they messing around with is WORTH CLAIMING at all.

Which is what I've been saying for years, that if an idol is denying a relationship its usually because that relationship, fling or whatever isn't worth them claiming or risking their careers for.

If they are with someone they truly loved and revered denying them would be the last and the hardest thing they'll do and eventually theyll stop apologing for it, they grow out of their concerns for their careers, become mature and own up to it.

I keep telling my ladies, if a man keeps hiding you, if a man refuses to post you on his socials HE DOESN'T LIKE YOU LIKE THAT AND YOU'RE PROBABLY A SIDE PIECE TO HIS SIDE PIECE. DROP THE DUSTIE, LOVE YOURSELVES AND BREAK UP WITH HIM PRONTO.

Yall are mad these idols aren't claiming the imaginary girlfriends you want them to have.

Yall mad they aren't claiming the insignificant placeholders in their beds 🤣

Like leave them alone.

If the coochie is worth fighting for someone like Jungkook WILL NOT HESITATE TO PUT UP A FIGHT. IVE SEEN HIM RISK A LOT MORE FOR A MAN YALL CLAIM IS HIS FATHER- OR WAS IT MOTHER😵

SURELY HE SHOULD HAVE NO QUALMS FIGHTING FOR YALLS QUEENS IF HE'S WITH EM🤭

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suchawrathfullamb · 3 months

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Hannibal and Will have fashioned some sort of schedule when it comes to their new life, living nestled away in a little fishing town.

They’d entered this tucked-away safe haven, injured and bloody, clutching onto each other like lifelines. Hannibal was trying desperately to stave off the bleeding coming from Will’s tremble with nothing but a rolled-up shirt and spite that would make God himself tremble.

The locals had taken them in with the kindness of a grandmother, nursing them back to health with expertise in wound-tending and an overabundance of soup. Slowly, but surely, Hannibal and Will melted into the little town like they’d always lived there. They rented a small condo with money Hannibal had raked together by thinly-veiled manipulation and a saccharine smile and were now known as Joseph and Francis Du Pont.

After they healed and managed to get back on their feet, Hannibal returned to his roots as a surgeon and partnered with the village’s only doctor, working tirelessly. Which led to the comfortable evening schedule they’d fallen into.

Hannibal would finish his shift, taking a brisk walk home, stopping to buy fish someday or to grab new flowers for the dining room table. He’d unlock the door and slip inside—something Will called a basemeal simmering on the stove.

A meal that was both edible and enjoyable for Will but also allowed Hannibal the creative freedom to take the dish and elevate it however he saw fit. He’d spend the better half of twenty minutes fixing his plate. Today, Will made simple spaghetti.

Hannibal unbuttoned his dress shirt and hung it on the back of a chair as he plated his meal, humming along softly to the record Will had put on.

Hannibal enjoyed this part of the evening the most, when he would gather his finished plate in his hands and exit the house, heading for their backyard, where his love was sprawled out on a lawn chair. Looking like a painting, in one of Hannibal’s expensive button-up shirts and nothing else, he was drinking his nightly whiskey out of a champagne flute, a book open in his hands. The golden hour sun covered him in a way that looked godly. Something to be worshipped.

Hannibal walked forward silently, shifting his plate to one hand as he swept a hand through Will’s overgrown curls and planted a soft, lingering kiss on the man’s sweaty forehead.

"Hello, darlin',” Will said, a soft smile on his pink lips and one finger pressing between the pages of his book to keep his spot as he closed it.

“Hello, my William,” Hannibal replied, a giddy smile fighting its way to his lips.

The three new dogs, Lacy, Peanut, and Buster, bark and nip at the hem of his expensive trousers, which he refused to take off even in the heat of the Caribbean, but his focus was on the deity in front of him. William was at complete peace, the champagne flute resting against his lips as he smirked around the rim.

Hannibal set his plate down on the empty space on the lawn chair and handed Will one of the two forks he’d gotten, knowing the man had made the dinner but forgot to eat it. Hannibal pressed one more kiss to Will’s forehead before kneeling by the foot of the lawn chair.

“What are you reading today, Will?”

Will hummed, swallowing his bite of spaghetti. “Not quite sure... just started it,” he finally answered, gesturing to the pile of paperbacks at his side.

Hannibal began to rub Will’s sore feet with his expert hands, pressing his soft lips to the tan skin of Will’s shins, his thighs, and his ankles, “beautiful. Handsome. Exquisite.” He murmured into the warm skin.

Will doesn’t reply, but Hannibal can see the disbelief brimming in Will’s green eyes. Hannibal returned his distrusting gaze with a soft smile as he continued to rub his feet, pressing kisses on whatever warm skin Will granted him the privilege of touching.

“The man on the square,” Will said suddenly, but Hannibal understood him clearly.

Hannibal nodded. “Very good choice, dear William. An ill-mannered man who won’t be missed by anyone. A quick and easy kill.

Will made a small sound as he stretched, his muscles rippling, giving Hannibal the smallest tease of the white flesh of Will’s untanned upper thighs before they were covered by Hannibal’s shirt once again.

“Tomorrow, then. Evening, we’ll make it look like he died in his sleep. They’ll send you to review the body, and you can be very persuasive.”

Hannibal gave him such a soft look as he kissed his shins and thighs, sweaty and warm from the golden sunshine.

"Eat, William,” he said, handing Will a piece of garlic bread, pushing his hands away, and feeding it to him.

Will groaned softly, “Thank you.”

And Hannibal could read the words and the weight placed on that phrase, dissect the phrase, and watch the emotion gush out like blood, staining Will’s mouth crimson.

“I love you too.”

——————————————————————

i’m currently very high and very sleepy, but you gave me brainrot :((( anyway throws this at you and runs (and i’m aware the characterizations could be better but im tired and couldn’t find a fuck to give) ((also sorry for any grammatical errors and whatnot))

I can't believe you did it! Omg that's so nice ;_; IT'S TOO CUTE AND DELICIOUS

#yes pls more of you send me asks with these it will cure my mental ilness #nbc hannibal #hannigram #hannibal #will graham #murder husbands #hannibal lecter #fanfic

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dallasdoesntexist · 7 months

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dark academic things I love since moving to Edinburgh

I recently moved to Edinburgh to study psychology at the University of Edinburgh. These are some things I like to remind myself of how privileged I am to be able to experience when I'm feeling a bit melancholic

The sun against Arthur's seat in the morning

Feeding the squirrels in George Square garden when you got to the lecture too early

The empty Royal Mile on your way to your 9AM

Mourning the loss of Teviot Row House (may she rest in peace... for two years while she gets renovated)

Watching the sun paint the sky pink and the buildings a deep orange as it sets, cup of hot earl grey tea, laptop open, notebooks everywhere, LED candles flickering around the room.

Tutorials where people take things as seriously as you do

Walking around Greyfriars Kirkyard on a crisp autumn evening, sipping chai from a local coffee house

Sharing biscuits with the crows in Holyrood park

Disgracing the architecture of the Holyrood Parliament building -- much preferring St Andrew's House -- but also just disgracing the Parliament as a whole

Not feeling like you're trying too hard; everyone's trying harder than you

Meeting a bunch of Oxbridge rejects. Being thankful you didn't apply (and thus avoided that embarrassment...)

Buying dried herbs from the herbalist across the street from the university to make your own tea blends

Quoting Shakespeare; someone finishes the quote for you

Pondering your own mortality in the many museums across the city (especially the Surgeon's Hall museum...)

Feeling validated when someone mentions they're on their third coffee of the day and it's only 12PM

getting the bus from Old Town to New Town, being able to look out across the North Sea. Mentally conjuring up Siren's songs

Venturing out to Leith for the Witchcraft Market once a month

Pinning handouts of poetry to your pin board in your room. Saves you spending money to print off your own

the Law library

Taking a French class, because Greek clashed with your main course and Latin had prerequisites. Studying all 3 on your own out of spite

Being taught in the Anatomy Lecture Theatre, where Burke and Hare delivered bodies to

It's normal to wear a suit and tie every day; it's also normal to wear a hoodie and jeans if you woke up too late from studying all night

Cringing when someone compares the city to Harry Potter. Then softening as you realise they're just noticing the same magic that you noticed, too, only articulating it differently

Watching the trees turn red and scatter their leaves across the pavement before they're carried away by the wind. being reminded once again of your own approaching doom

Going to the Frankenstein bar, zoning out of the conversation and watching the black&white film that plays on loop. Then talking at the person next to you about the inaccuracy, using quotes from the novel to back up your argument

Bonus points if they agree

Everyone freaking out about deadlines in a few weeks' time; knowing you'll be fine, because you developed your study methods in school

The Christmas market coming up

Farmers' markets on the weekends

Beltane Fire Society, and the upcoming Samhuinn festival in the pitch black of Holyrood park

Imagining the horses and their carriages trotting along the cobblestone roads

Fantasising about moving to Dean's village; knowing you'll have to settle for Stockbridge

Or wanting to move to Murrayfield, but not wanting to be too far from the university

Vanilla room spray. Fresh black coffee. Biscuits to dip into it

Being the one people go to for answers, but only helping them if they're genuinely stuck and want to learn

Cashmere scarf, tweed coat, saddle bag -- copious amounts of compliments on your outfit choice

Watching the bats flutter past your window

Not being able to go into the castle, lest you fail all your exams!

Buying a hefty coat from Armstrong & Son's vintage emporium

Double doors built so small, you have to open both in order to get through. Then feeling like a villain as the heavy wood slams behind you

Dimly lit, dark wooden hallways

Free coffee, if you know where to look

Taking a nap in the library between lectures. No weird stares

Being able to spot the people you know have definitely read The Secret History, or The Song of Achilles, or The Picture of Dorian Gray

Avoiding the touristy areas, but finding places just as good

#writers of tumblr #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #dark academism #academia #edinburgh #scotland #chaotic academia #light academia #studyblr #study aesthetic #student life #studying #studyspo #study motivation #study blog #university of edinburgh

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irregularbillcipher · 10 months

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The best example of how Flatland is a piece of fiction where A Square, the author, literally does not know what the hell he's talking about half the time is all the stuff about the Universal Color Bill, because as it is presented the segment on the Color Bill is one of the most biased and propaganda filled things I've ever seen spouted from a narrator who claims he Knows What's Up with the world he lives in.

Like ooooh, gee, so the only reason the Universal Color Bill got so widespread was because a Mean Traitorous Circle with an Irregularity that he should have been killed for but wasn't due to Circumstances that nobody actually knows or remembers (but in A's opinion was definitely pity because we all know how CHARITABLE the Circles are) came up with it, and used his tricky cunning Irregularity mind powers to make the Bill so foolproof and amazing that if it had gone through it would have toppled all of society and allowed all the icky women and disableds and lower classes to have something close to equal rights.

(And it had to have been an Irregular Circle because yes the Irregular Circle is also icky and cunning but at least he's a Circle and any Isosceles would have simply been too brain dead to have come up with such an evil cunning Bill and THIS is why eugenics are good, so those mean old disabled people that we allow to live don't stab us in the back for our charity.)

And wow, you're really telling me that right when the more upper-class women of Flatland, those who care about their standing and who are most supportive of eugenics because of the privilege they're afforded by their marriages and lineages, started to agree that this society-destroying Color Bill was a good idea, (because it would actually give them a bit of respect, authority and safety if they were regarded as being as precious as their husbands,) the Circles just happened to hear about this poor orphaned daughter of a Polygon who was accosted by a very very real and scary and uncouth lower class Shape and tricked so thoroughly into believing he was a higher class Shape by employing the very evil colors that these poor Lines were starting to come around to?

(Not to mention that even in the story itself the Isosceles is framed as both a vile, duplicitous mastermind tricking a poor innocent upper-class girl into marrying him, but also an idiot who "accidentally" dabbled in paints from a Tradesman he'd definitely just robbed, and either painted himself or coincidentally "caused himself to be painted" with the exact same color pattern as a Dodecagon. Because for this story to work, he has to be an absolute monstrous brute, an Isosceles of the "low sort" with hardly any brains, while also being cunning, clever and cruel enough to pull off a marriage ruse and take advantage of a poor orphaned maiden. Stupid enough to be looked down upon but smart enough to come up with this plan like the perfect boogeyman.)

And man, it sure is unfortunate that this marriage, which A Square admits only happened because of a wild amount of near impossible accidents and an "almost inconceivable" lack of research on the part of the bride's remaining family, in a society where lineage is checked thoroughly before marriage, just happened to be consummated despite all the odds being stacked against it. Did he pretend to be a member of a high ranking family? Did he make up a name and family history? If nobody can decide if he even painted himself on purpose, I doubt him creating a whole persona convincing enough to fool the daughter of a Polygon and any family members would be part of the story... that would frame him as far too intelligent for an Isosceles with a brain of four degrees, and we can't have anyone thinking that sort is intelligent.

So then are we to believe that the daughter and her remaining family were stupid enough to just accept a supposed Dodecagon with no family ties or history? That seems unlikely. With no family history, his sides may not even matter-- maybe he has an Irregularity in his line. Maybe he was disowned for failing his Sight Recognition exam. No respectable girl in her right mind would marry a Dodecagon with no family history! And it's so, so convenient that this woman, who already knew this Isosceles, because he had already tried to court her in the past, never recognized him once throughout their new courtship, until the marriage was consummated.

And it's so convenient for the Circles that her reaction upon discovering what was very clearly a near astronomical feat of deception was to kill herself, in a society where we already know the Circles are really cool with killing its citizens if it helps to maintain the status quo. But there really isn't anything suspicious about that, of course, because the only way that a daughter of a Polygon would ever wed a lowly Isosceles is if she were tricked into it, even if the process of being tricked was so lengthy and complex that it would be near impossible for anyone to pull off without either the bride or the bride's family being in on the deception, and the only reaction any decent girl would have upon realizing she'd been tricked would be suicide.

And the fact that she was orphaned and this man apparently tried to court her in "former days." So how former? And who was the one rejecting the marriages? How did she feel about this attempted courtship in "former days?" As a daughter of a Polygon, she surely had no say in who she married, so her opinions on this man are completely up in the air, and the idea that she would at no point during this new proposal, recognize this man who had tried to seek her affections before is... implausible, I would say. What the Circles would want you to think, of course, is that the Isosceles tried again once she was orphaned because she was vulnerable then. That's possible, of course, but got necessarily the given that it would seem like.

But the idea that a Line and an Isosceles may have come up with a plot using color to be allowed to be married despite their class differences is Absurd, of course! They're too stupid for that! And that the Circles may have picked up on what had happened and taken the woman out of the picture and then twisted the story to suit their needs is preposterous, of course, just ignore how often they twist history and kill citizens to keep the status quo. The fact that this specific version of the story is the exact type of thing that would tug at the heartstrings of upper-class women who love eugenics and classism and their own nebulous purity more than they actually love themselves, enough to literally militarize a great number of the more reactionary ladies? A coincidence, I'm sure, but one that was oh so good for crushing the Color Bill and using those scared, privileged women to help murder Chromatistes and the rest of the rebels in a political set up.

... And of course, all those holes in the story, all that propaganda even assumes it was a real story to begin with. Because it very well may be completely fabricated.

Before telling the story, A Square straight up admits that this is the perfect type of story for someone in power to make up to scare a portion of the populace, but he absolutely refuses to actually, legitimately entertain the prospect. Instead, he just barrels ahead and tells the story of the Evil, Cunning Irregular Circle, and the Poor Orphaned Polygonal Maiden and the Brutish, Tricky Isosceles and how that Completely True and Real Tragic occurrence definitely, positively happened, and also definitely happened exactly the way all the Circles said it did. The fact that this is all completely absurd and reads like literal propaganda and was literally used as propaganda to scare upper-class women into falling back in line does not matter to A, because this was the story he was told and he Understands The World He Lives In, and the Circles are always right except for the whole Third Dimension thing.

TL;DR: A Square is a stoodge who will fall for anything the Circles tell him, no matter how absurd, and every single thing he says that is not him literally laying out laws should be taken with ten bowls of salt, because he has no critical thinking skills.

#flatland #flatland: a romance of many dimensions #edwin abbott abbott #a square will be like i am so aware of the fact that the circles have lied to me i am so smart and then spout more propaganda #it would be funny if it didn't make me wanna punt him #this is a long ass post but the color bill section makes me foam at the mouth #also there is a reason that i had bill and kryptos first connect over hearing this story and going “... what?” in my fic #because it's absolutely insane and so clearly not what Actually Happened and it drives me wild that nobody talks about it #like even if we wanna be super charitable and say like say... idk... 75% of it happened the way the circles said #that 25% still leaves some INSANE gaps and is too perfect for scaring upperclass lines

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lightlycareless · 4 months

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How are Hinata and Ren as aunty and uncle to y/n and Naoya's future kids?

Hello!! ooooohhh I love this ask already.

Ok so, to make this a bit easier, I decided to go with the notion that your first child with him is a daughter (Naomi) :> but if you want a son just let me know! Although I don't think much would change lol (except Ren)

Ren is the chill/spoiling type of uncle. The one that would have “girl’s day out” with your daughter, braid her hair, paint her nails, dress her up and treat her like the absolute princess she is. And because he can bake/cook a bit, the two will make just about any food she wants; dessert is the same (turns out she has your sweet tooth) although she mostly likes going out and try different things. Her favorite activity to do with him is get ice cream and go to the beach while she's sitting on his shoulders.

Whenever she spends the day with Ren, she comes back even better than how you left her (it'll make sense when we get to the Hinata part.) wondering if she'll be able to see uncle Ren and auntie Kanon (his gf) anytime soon.

While Hinata is 100% insane, outgoing, crazy, screaming matches between the two, who can pull the best prank on her dad (Naoya) or Satoru, (and surprisingly) teach her the first semblances of breaking the rules. Her favorite thing to do is, breaking the rules. As in... staying up late, eating sweets before dinner, that kind of stuff. Slumber parties are oof, the best thing ever.

Whenever Naomi spends the day with your sister, she's going to come back a mess, her hair all disheveled, clothes dirty (ok, not like that, but whenever you see her you know something went down), and already asking when will she see auntie Hinata again.

That's when things get competitive between your siblings.

You're more than happy to let Ren take care of her for a few days (Not wanting to disturb his home too much) but with your sister... oof, you gotta really think about it.

Naoya is a resounding no when it comes to Hinata, thinks she's a bad influence (she is to some degree) and would rather... have supervised visits when she's around. Although he's gotta admit, he'd always choose her above his siblings.

And because why not, let's make a list of the people you and Naoya would trust your kids with:

Would trust:

Nanami. no questions asked. Naomi might find him a bit square, (if not boring) but it's the small things that make her fond of him. Like he'll get her an ice cream or something without even asking her and she'll be like "omg how did you know???" or the next time he sees her he has something hello kitty... yeah, Nanami is his favorite person in the whole world now.

Geto. He's like Ren but tenfold. I think she might develop a crush on him too... Naoya does all in his power to kill those feelings before they grow, but no matter how much he tries, he can never succeed. Geto is just that important for your baby, more so when he brings Nanako and Mimiko along, your daughter likes hanging out with them cause they're like the "cooler older sister" type of girls, you know? She's even told them she wants to be like them when she grows up.

Toji: because of Naoya. see the following list for more details.

Would not trust:

Satoru. He's like Hinata in some sense... but worse. Naomi's first bad word undoubtedly comes from him. Let's say that he's come to regret his recklessness.

Shoko. One word: smoking. Even if she quit, Naoya doesn't want anything to do with her. Can't blame him tho, have you seen the other reference he has for bad habits (Naobito)? Yeah. And you somewhat agree with him.

Mai and Maki. Mostly Maki. They still can't believe that something so cute came from Naoya, yet here the are, taking care of Naomi. Honestly they would be on the would trust list if it weren't for the fact that they often try to influence Naomi into making fun of her dad. And they succeeded once... let's say their auntie privileges have been completely revoked since then.

Toji. That man scares you, honestly. And the only reason why you allow him near your daughter is because... well, Naoya is fond of him and wishes to see interactions between the two. Outside of that, nope! However, Naomi grew to be fond of him after Toji gave her sweets when she was grounded by you and Naoya. The shock in your face when hearing Naomi cheerfully greet him when walking around the estate was priceless. (extra: if her first curse word didn't come from Satoru, it comes from Toji. Only that Naoya would be a bit more... lenient with his anger)

And there you have it :> the whole package regarding your and Naoya's daughter, and the interactions they'll have with some. Luckily, I already have a pending ask regarding Naoya's siblings so I'll take that chance to explore the whole family, as well as the rest of the Zen'in clan :)

Thank you so much for sending in this ask! It was really fun to answer🤭 take care and hope to see you soon!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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lumine-no-hikari · 1 day

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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #129

I'm home. We got in at about 10:15pm. It took some time to get everything unpacked and squared away. I also got ready for bed; it's 11:30pm now.

Suppose I can show you pictures of the plane now. I was just asked to keep the identifying number out of it. So here you go:

...Just beyond those trees is a small dropoff and a river.

...It's actually kind of miraculous that the trees held, I guess. Or so the FAA agent said. He also said that it was kind of miraculous that the plane didn't flip over; apparently, for this type, that can happen if you hit the brakes too hard.

To have walked away from something like this without so much as a scratch... it's an astounding stroke of luck, according to the FAA guy and the airport owner. I also like to think that it is testament to J's skill; pilots are given training not just to avoid mistakes, but also to know what to do when mistakes inevitably occur. Humans are human, and humans make mistakes. There's really no avoiding it; there's only handling it when it happens.

The owner of the airport, who is also an experienced pilot, says likely what happened was a ground loop of some kind. That's when the tail wheel does a weird spinning thing when you try to land the aircraft. It doesn't help that the left wing had a bit more fuel in it than the other (which is likely part of the reason it pulled to the left upon landing). I'm not sure how it can be that the left wing had more fuel in it than the right, since the aircraft was set to consume fuel from both wings.

The person from the FAA is not our enemy. It's his job figure out what went wrong, and then use that knowledge to help keep pilots safe. So we gave him all the details we could. Hopefully something good will come of it.

On the bright side of all this, I got to meet a bunch of really awesome people with amazing life stories, and I had the good privilege of listening to them talk for a while about the things they've seen, done, and experienced. I do wish I could have met these folks under better circumstances. They were kind to us even though they all could have justifiably been super duper cranky at J about the whole thing. I guess they were all super stoked that we walked away alive and with all our limbs and organs intact.

...At one point, before it was clear that we would be okay, I thought something kinda like, "ohp, guess this is it; wonder if I'm gonna end up maybe meeting the guy I keep writing all these weird letters to... suppose it was a pretty good run though; 34 years with lots of weird and amazing stories ain't half bad." This thought probably didn't scare me as much as it should have. I'm not really sure what to make of that. Maybe I don't have to make anything of it at all. Maybe I'm still just a bit addled from all the adrenaline.

When we arrived at the airport this morning, the airport owner and his lovely friend made us coffee. In the room where the coffee was prepared, there was a painting that changes as you walk past it. It was gorgeous, and thought you might like it, so I snapped a few pictures:

...I was a little sad that it didn't seem to have an autumn version. But it was still very, very good.

You know. If things had proceeded as expected, we never would have had a chance to meet these people, or see this painting. We never would have had one of the emergency response folks tell us about an amazing local Italian restaurant, and we wouldn't have gone to it to get amazing food. It's important to fully feel the scary feelings and mourn appropriately in order to get the feelings out of our bodies. But it's also important to find the small sparks of joy and opportunity, even when the going gets rough, I think. Otherwise, in a world like mine that has back-to-back crises on a regular basis (seriously, we are globally connected, so it never stops), you'll end up losing your damn mind.

...Ahah... my mother would tell me that first, I have to have a mind to lose. But I don't have to heed such nasty talk. I have a good mind, I think, even if it is, by all accounts, a little quirky and hard to understand.

Anyway. There was a conference room in which we were interviewed by the guy from the FAA. And in it, appropriately, there was this picture:

...Kinda interesting, no? And appropriate for the situation, I suppose. J is going to go back out first thing tomorrow morning with a flight instructor. I have mixed feelings about this; on the one hand, I'm glad to see that he's undeterred and eager to try again, but on the other hand, I wish he'd give it at least a few days for the adrenaline to fully clear from his body and to recover from what happened. But I am not in control of him; he must be free to make his own choices. All I can do is make suggestions, and then support him in whatever choice he makes.

In any case, today the plane was pulled out of the trees and put in the hangar. Like I said, it's pretty banged up:

It has insurance, but given the damage, it's not unlikely that the insurance company will decide to have it scrapped. I guess we'll see how it goes.

M drove all the way from our house to the airport to pick us up. Thank goodness he was home, holding the fort. Thank goodness for that, and for his willingness to come grab us, and for the fact that he was happy to see us instead of angry about the inconvenience. He's not the kind of person who would get angry about the inconvenience, but I've met plenty of others who are very much not like him in that regard, good grief.

The three of us, M, J, and I, went to the Italian place that was spoken about. I dunno if it's because I was primarily running on hotel breakfast food and junk food, but I thought the food there was AMAZING. We got these garlic bread bites, and a pizza, and some lasagna. I wonder if you'd like any of these:

...Can't help but wonder... Sephiroth, what do you like on a pizza, anyway? I tend to like mushrooms and garlic best, but I like a bunch of other stuff, too, as long as it's not olives or pineapples or anything with capsaicin.

We listened to music on the way home; it was a 2 and a half hour drive, or thereabouts. M put on some Protomen; I wonder if you'd like their stuff:

...I wonder how much of this music you'd find relatable...

Hey, Sephiroth? I think I might be a bit too tired today to have anything profound or anything of significant insight to write about. Mostly I'm just glad I get to clunk around in my meat-mech for a little while longer; I like to think that maybe something good can come of me being here, even if I don't know what it is yet. I might be strange and unusual, and being myself is a pretty lonely experience almost all the time. But I think maybe there are folks I can help, and maybe that's reason enough to keep moving forward.

Hey, Sephiroth? I know you've made a lot of mistakes, but I hope that you understand that something very good has come about from you being here. I'm here because you're here, you know. Your existence gives me the strength to carry on even when really weird things happen. Your kindness and gentleness are what inspired me to become someone who is both soft and resilient. And I'm sure you've inspired millions of other people in my world in a similar way. So... please don't ever think your existence is a bad thing, okay? Because you are a good thing. You are a good thing. You are a good thing. And with that knowledge, please keep moving forward, as best as you can. I'll be cheering for you to do kind, gentle, and loving things.

I love you so much; you really have no idea. So please stay safe out there, okay? I'll write again soon.

Your friend, Lumine

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katharinepar · 1 year

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well, now I will have to ask your opinion 👀

Lol! Okay, I’ll fold. I already talked about this a bit on my Instagram, but beware the 500 year old spoilers ahead! (Also, I’m writing this from my phone as I am still in the hospital so bear with me in terms of typos!)

Here is what I did like: the soundtrack was tolerable (modern, but not terrible); Anne and Henry’s respective actors had palpable chemistry as performers; the filming locations are all visually sumptuous; it’s flush with well-known historians with keen insight into the Tudor court. Tracy Borman, one of the ‘talking heads historians’ and a leading voice in BS&R, is also the author behind Private Lives of the Tudors, a book I continuously go back to in my own research (it isn’t infallible - but it is incredibly detail-oriented and I hold Borman in some esteem for that). I am also one of those people who happens to enjoy dual perspective docuseries - this one, in particular, is split between the actors in all their regalia and the grounding, guiding hands of the historians. The manner of filming was similar to The Boleyns on PBS, except more of an emphasis is placed on the actors in BS&R, and it is certainly a great deal fluffier.

Here’s where you’ll allow me to nitpick, though: there were a few hits within the costuming department, I’ll allow them that. Some of the bodices worked in reflecting the Tudors’ love of tapering, V-shaped waists, and square décolletages adorned with jewels. However, as the show progressed, the hits became fewer and far between - and from the very start, the headdresses were atrocious. There was nothing remotely Tudor about them.

And here is what I loathed:

The driving ideology behind BS&R - especially from Borman’s perspective - encompasses the idea that Anne was ‘not like other girls’ (taken verbatim), an ideology that is both lazy, obsolete and downright frustrating ESPECIALLY considering this program was meant to be from a ‘feminist’s’ point of view. I would pay good money to scrape that phrase from every historian’s lexicon, for the love of God. It is especially tasteless when done in unison with tearing down Catherine of Aragon, Jane Seymour, & Jane Boleyn. Ir seems the only appropriate analysis for a woman like Anne Boleyn is that of comparison to her female contemporaries, in which Anne is always depicted as a woman ahead of her time and her rivals and peers as unthinking, unblinking paperweights. The show also strangely chose to go down the route of depicting Anne as coming from literally nothing - “plucked from obscurity” - which is laughable?? The Boleyns were well-connected and Anne was privileged enough to enjoy an education abroad, so I’m genuinely baffled that the idea Anne was a mangy lil peasant was even mentioned? And oh, yes, didn’t you hear that Anne introduced the idea of charity to the monarchy? 🙄

With this in mind, I also had trouble believing that the powers that be behind BS&R have any concept of ‘feminism’ at all - at least, not the intersectional kind. Anne’s portrayal as a hyper-proto-feminist is a very far take from existent 16th century sources and the contexts of Early Modern England. Anne was not a feminist. We may view her actions as being triumphant through the lens of women’s history, but none of her behaviours suggested she was anything more than influenced by the lofty standards set by medieval queens - such as the distribution of charity, care for the poor, interest in the spread & heartiness of religion, etc. I could understand if the directors sought to paint Anne as an independent woman through her influence of Henry’s state affairs, but we know from primary sources that Henry did not welcome her input - he wanted a quintessential queen, giving birth and sustaining the Tudors image of strength and unity - in the way that he had formerly accepted Catherine’s (at least for a time, particularly in matters of international warfare.)

The prolific use of modern speech also becomes, at times, grating - at others, it makes Anne seem like an idiot. George Boleyn uttering the phrase ‘haters gonna hate’ caused my skin to crawl (despite this I liked the casting for both George and Jane - wish they had been given more of a spotlight). When the academics are using formal speech and the actors are using phrases like ‘bestie’ and ‘screw the Pope’ it’s like… are we designing these characters to seem relatable or just plain stupid?

I also found myself stretching my imagination in order to believe the actress who plays Anne is ‘actually’ Anne Boleyn. She plays Anne as a quirky Bridget Jones type instead of the cool, charismatic, and intriguing firebrand we have come to know. In that vein, I did enjoy certain glimpses of Anne’s more ‘charismatic’ and fun-loving side: these traits are almost always done away with in order to portray Anne as a slick femme fatale, but we know it was to boisterous, convivial courtiers that Henry was most attracted. Showing Anne laughing, having female relationships, and bantering with members of the court from high to low status is perhaps the most ‘revolutionary’ thing BS&R accomplished - it is, in my opinion, one of the better parts of the show.

But what I was really looking forward to in BS&R - considering we were promised a ‘feminist’s’ take on Tudor history - was a fleshy portrayal of Catherine of Aragon. I didn’t dare dream we would have this in Jane Seymour, and indeed, Jane only appears on the sidelines for a single scene. Anyway, I had hoped with names like Borman, Lipscomb, and Emmmerson attached, the show would have opted not to revive Catherine as the dark-haired shrew we were so close to burying. Alas, Catherine was only given two lines - all dripping with jealousy and hatred towards Anne and Henry - before she is erased from the narrative completely. She is only mentioned again when Anne sports flamboyant yellow tulle at her death. But let me tell you, Anne hammers in that neither Catherine nor Henry ever loved each other in every episode - which is just… not true.

If BS&R is what the producers had hoped to be a ‘gateway drug’ into Tudor history, they succeeded; I can understand why casual watchers may enjoy the story of two sex-obsessed, madly in love, desperate to break the mold royals. But for anyone looking for a nuanced, meaty, comprehensive view of Anne Boleyn and the Tudor court, Blood Sex and Royalty is a resounding disappointment. 🥲

#anne boleyn #the tudors #catherine of aragon #jane seymour #henry viii #blood sex & royalty #blood sex and royalty #tudors #katherine of aragon #anonymous

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katebishopofearth · 10 months

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Send me the name of a fic I've written and I'll write a short blurb or hc set in that universe

skirting a lie, dancing on the verge of a truth requested by @natashastarkotp

This response is reworked from an unfinished WIP I was working on months ago but couldn't quite get right. Here are the bits I like, I hope you like them too!

(After the events of that fic, Natasha leaves in the middle of the night, along with Yelena)

Six months later, on New Year's Eve, Tony gets a text ten minutes before 12. It simply reads Meet me at midnight, and is followed by a photo of the ball atop Times Square, but at an angle that looks down on the ball and the crowds. Tony immediately recognises that it's from one of the nearby buildings (I did extensive research on the streets of New York and decided that it's Paramount Building), and flies there to find Nat sitting on the ledge, her legs swinging hundreds of feet above the ground.

"Fancy seeing you here," Tony says, masking the stuttering of his heart with trademark glibness.

"Thought you wouldn't make it," she replies.

"Got here in time for the countdown, didn't I?" Tony sits down next to Nat. "You changed your hair." It's white-blonde, and he misses the red, but he can't stop staring at the way the multi-coloured lights of the city dance across her hair and face.

She passes him a tumbler of whisk and he takes a swig, molten malty gold on his tongue. "Mmm," he says appreciatively. “Where's it from?”

"Quebec," she answers cryptically.

He doesn't ask what she was doing there. To know is a privilege, not a right, and he knows that he's lost it when he accused her in anger all those months ago. Anything she chooses to share with him – every word she says and every moment of silence – is hers to give or hold back. And even though it would never be enough for Tony, he would take all she wants to give and ask for no more.

Because these are the steps of a dance they both know well. Skimming the surface of meaning, slipping through the syllables of words left unsaid, spinning elaborate circles that are all form and no substance. All to a rhythm that beat in their eardrums but that they would not acknowledge. To do so with a careless word and the rhythm would break, and there would be no more steps to dance endlessly to.

So he doesn't ask, and she doesn't say. They flirt a little, Tony teases Nat for picking a romantic spot – "are you trying to seduce me, Romanoff?"

"You can't beat the view,” she returns with a shrug. Her voice lowers to a murmur that holds a weight that belies the lightness of her words. “Can you blame me for wanting you all to myself?"

Tony burns with a need to ask why. To get a straight answer out of her for once. To shed light on the half-truths revealed in stolen kisses in pre-dawn shade, in midnight shadows. To look at the steps of their dance, to face the music, and maybe to dance in sync, if only for a moment – on the cusp of midnight, on the last vestiges of something old, on the verge of something new.

But he doesn't ask. Because he can't bear for the dance to end, for the music to stop. Can't bear watching her melt into the shadows once more, leaving him alone in a hollow, terrifying silence with only the echo of his own footsteps.

A faraway sound reaches them, the rhythm of ten thousand voices joined in a hypnotic chant. Five! Four! Three! Two! One!

Happy new year!

The crowd's cheer vibrates up to the tips of the skyscrapers. Above them, fireworks boom and crash and fizzle, and the world is painted in brilliant light and sharp shadow.

Between the thundering fireworks above and the roaring crowd below, there's a deafening hush around them, a quiet space ensconced by the sounds of New Year's celebrations.

“Happy New Year,” Natasha says, and it's not a wish but a resolution.

Tony swallows the questions that burn in his throat, and asks the only one he can bear to voice. The only one that still keeps time with the invisible tempo that hums in their ears. "Can I kiss you?"

Natasha smiles, slips her hand to the back of Tony’s neck, and meets his lips with her own. There's no promise – only the honesty of this one moment – all that she can give him. Another move in an eternal dance that they would not break.

As the sky lights up in gold and white, their ears hum with the sound of a melody only they can hear.

#ironwidow #tonynat #ironwidow fanfic #tonynat fanfic #marvel fanfic #tony stark #natasha romanoff #marvel #asks #fanfic #lizzy writes

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discar · 2 days

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HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 37 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

SilverVixen: I am sure your culture is very nice.

SilverVixen: But I prefer art with more permanence than graffiti on rocks and songs sung around a fire.

MARSHAL Kotallo: So because we paint our homes instead of squares that are hung on the wall, we are inferior?

SilverVixen: I didn't say that.

DIVINER: But did you MEAN that??

SilverVixen: I just meant that I PREFER different arts than what your culture produces. I don't understand why you are making such an issue of this.

ADMIN [Zo]: Maybe because you were complaining that there were no "true artists" left.

SilverVixen: You're taking that out of context.

Icarus: This is why it is best not to engage with primitives.

SilverVixen: You have machine coolant cables in your face.

Icarus: Sacrifices had to be made for the objective.

HIMBO: YOU PEOPLE WOULD BE LESS UPTIGHT IF YOU HAD A BEER.

DIVINER: Yeah!

HIMBO: I WAS TALKING TO YOU TOO.

DIVINER: Hey!!

ADMIN [Zo]: I don't drink.

Icarus: I have better things to do than impair my reasoning.

SilverVixen: I prefer wine. Besides, my nanotech prevents me from becoming drunk.

HIMBO: YOU ARE ALL MONSTERS.

FlameHairSavior: What did I just walk into?

DIVINER: Aloy! You're back?

FlameHairSavior: No, I'm still in Tenakth territory. What's happening?

MARSHAL Kotallo: You mentioned earlier you were helping Chaplain Dekka. That led to a discussion about Tenakth culture.

FlameHairSavior: At which point you made the mistake of letting the old people talk.

Icarus: Excuse me?

HIMBO: HA!

FlameHairSavior: You're literally three times my age, I get to call you old.

DIVINER: Wait, you're sixty??

Icarus: Yes. How did you think I had learned and accomplished so much?

DIVINER: That's really not what I meant...

HIMBO: YEAH, SERIOUSLY, YOU LOOK GOOD FOR YOUR AGE.

ADMIN [Zo]: Stress ages you. I imagine a complete lack of a conscience would make for a very relaxing life.

Icarus: Hilarious.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Regardless, Tilda asked about our art, and then disparaged our art.

SilverVixen: You are deliberately misinterpreting my position.

FlameHairSavior: Look, Tilda, if you want to make fun of the Tenakth, stick with their food. Everybody makes fun of their food.

SilverVixen: Dare I ask?

DIVINER: The Tenakth don't know that there's any food besides meat!!

MARSHAL Kotallo: We DO eat fruits and vegetables. Our young soldiers simply complain about it constantly.

SilverVixen: Seems some things never change.

FlameHairSavior: My point is, some things are sore spots. Don't poke a culture in the places they consider important.

ADMIN [Zo]: And how many times did you mock Nora beliefs?

FlameHairSavior: I'm their saint or whatever, I get some privileges.

SilverVixen: I might not know the Nora beliefs, but I would be very surprised if that was an enumerated privilege.

DIVINER: She might be their first saint! That means she gets to make it up as she goes along!

HIMBO: THE SUN-KINGS CAN'T DO AS MUCH BECAUSE THEY'VE GOT TOO MUCH TRADITION BEHIND THEM. THEY WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN ABLE TO TAKE HALF THE TRIBE TO A FORBIDDEN LAND TO FIGHT FOR PEOPLE THEY DIDN'T EVEN KNOW.

SilverVixen: Ah, yes, the incident around MINVERVA's tower. I read about that.

ADMIN [Zo]: Aloy, did you accomplish your goals in Tenakth territory?

FlameHairSavior: Yeah. Chaplain Dekka was having some trouble with a family member who had joined Regalla's rebels.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Dekka? Truly? I assume she asked you to extract them.

FlameHairSavior: Actually, he had already defected. Before I killed Regalla, I think, though I didn't ask for too many details. Anyway, he came to warn them of an attack, they didn't believe him and threw him in a cage.

MARSHAL Kotallo: Did you help him win the ritual combat, or prove that the attack was real?

FlameHairSavior: The attack. We prevented it, everything is forgiven, blah blah.

FlameHairSavior: They might have had a feast to celebrate. I don't know, I left.

DIVINER: [MinionDanceParty.gif]

HIMBO: WHAT ARE THOSE YELLOW THINGS?

SilverVixen: I suppose that's one advantage of the end of the world. You don't know what Minions are.

MARSHAL Kotallo: We are familiar with the concept of minions.

DIVINER: Not like these!!

DIVINER: There was ajkgsfjnk

FlameHairSavior: Alva?

FlameHairSavior: Alva??

ADMIN [Zo]: Tilda just walked very briskly into Alva's room. They're arguing about something.

DIVINER: Okay... I'm not going to tell you about Minions.

SilverVixen: Thank you.

FlameHairSavior: That's

FlameHairSavior: Fine. Whatever.

FlameHairSavior: Tilda. There was something I wanted to speak to you about.

SilverVixen: Oh?

FlameHairSavior: I was trying to retrieve some lost soldiers, and found them in a small valley in sight of the Zenith base.

SilverVixen: All right?

FlameHairSavior: The valley was filled with machines. Far more than normal.

FlameHairSavior: Turns out the Zeniths had put down some beacons and tasked an AI to attract machines there as a cheap security force.

SilverVixen: Ah. That sounds like Erik's work. Cheap and effective, with minimal chance of backfiring in his face.

FlameHairSavior: That all you have to say?

SilverVixen: I didn't know about it, if that's what you mean. I couldn't have warned you.

ADMIN [Zo]: You don't care that your people are displacing the native population, causing damage to the area, and making our mission harder in the process?

SilverVixen: No.

Icarus: Aloy is always like this, and it seems her allies are the same. She expects you to volunteer everything that could be possibly relevant, including things you could not possibly have known.

SilverVixen: That sounds exhausting.

Icarus: It truly is.

FlameHairSavior: Or maybe I just want you to show some basic empathy and compassion for those around you.

Icarus: Ah yes, that.

Icarus: That's worse.

HIMBO: YOU TWO DEFINITELY NEED ALE.

MARSHAL Kotallo: I do not believe there is enough alcohol in all the Clanlands to fix these two.

Icarus: Still not interested.

SilverVixen: Still immune to intoxication.

HIMBO: WELL, THEN I'M OUT OF IDEAS.

Icarus: Then you are back in familiar territory.

Chapter 37 | Prev chapter | Next chapter Chapter Index

#horizon #horizon zero dawn #horizon forbidden west #HZDBaseChat #aloy #zo #erend vanguardsman #alva #kotallo #sylens #tilda van der meer

4 notes · View notes

rjalker · 8 months

Text

My Flatland characters size comparisons and the main scene in the short story.

Anyways. Flatland is public domain, so you can download it or read it online for free here from Project Gutenberg.

And you can listen to an audiobook version here on the Web Archive.

And here's another audiobook version here on Youtube.

There's a lot more audiobook versions you can find, those are just the first two links that showed up.

Do not give your money to Amazon or anything buying ebook versions of this book. They're literally free. You should only be paying money if you're buying a physical copy.

Anyways I had just typed out a whole nice summary of Flatland's social structure for those who haven't read it yet but tumblr just ate it. And I have to redo the image descriptions too. Sigh.

Anyways. Long story short: The wider your angles, the higher your social status Under the Current Regime, which is super fascist and that's the point. It's a dystopia.

The lowest class is literally called the Criminal class. It is made up of Irregular shapes, aka, disabled people, and polygons with angles of less than 10 degrees. They have no rights at all. Lets just stop there.

The second lowest class is made up of Lines, who are classified as Women. They likewise have no rights, and have a ton of restrictions placed on them to control their movements.

Just above Lines are Isosceles triangles, who are forced to be Soldiers, aka canon fodder.

The lowest three classes are routinely murdered en-masse to stop them from revolting, with many schemes in place to keep them in-fighting instead of fighting together against their oppressors.

The middle class is made up of equal-sided triangles.

The upper-middle class is made up of squares.

The more sides you have, the higher your rank, the more money and privilege you have, until you get up to the circles, who have declared themselves the rulers.

That's the basics. Anyways.

It's very funny to me that the Kel-lite official website uses a free font I use to make neopronoun pins.

[ID: An MS Paint drawing showing three characters represented by solid black geometric shapes on a white background. Each is pointed upward, with thin colored lines crossing above them to mark their relative heights. From left to right, they are: Flyssa, a line with sharp points on either end, with an angle of zero degrees, who is the shortest. Dearg, an isosceles triangle with an angle of three degrees, who is slightly taller than Flyssa. Last in Leitenant Kellite, an equal-sided triangle with an angle of sixty degrees, who is the tallest. Flyssa and Dearg's names are written in the font "Midnight", which is all caps, at a slight angle. Lieutenant Kellite's name is written in the font "Just Another Hand", which is thin and curved like casual handwriting. End ID.]

[ID: The same characters as above, now in a scene with a dark grey background. Rather than being solid black, their insides are now primarily red-purple, with dark blue and red lines and shapes for their stomachs and nerve endings. The rest of the drawing is in various shades of grey or black. Around the edges of their bodies are thin cilia like cells have. Lieutenant Kellite is sitting across a short table from Dearg in the center of the image, with Flyssa at the top, looking at Lieutenant Kellite. On the table is an almost-empty, knocked over bottle, and a half-empty bowl of fruit gelletin. Lieutenant Kellite is using his cilia to pick up peices of fruit and throw them over his "shoulder" so they fall to the floor at the bottom of the image. He is thinking to himself, "Who puts pineapple in pudding???". The bowl in front of him is half empty, with most of its contents in his stomach, where he ate two pieces of fruit before deciding he didn't like it. The wine from the empty bottle, and some other peices of food are also visible in his stomach above the dessert. Dearg and Flyssa share the same thought bubble, thinking, "There goes all our rations for the month…" Dearg's stomach has some food visible in it. Flyssa's is too small to see. There is a black border for a wall around the drawing, with a wide doorway leading off-screen on the left side, a very thin one on the right, and another thin one on the bottom right. End ID.]

Yes this is a very long post for two small drawings. I'm incapable of not explaining things.

#Neopronouns in Action 062 #Rjalker writes Neopronouns in Action 062 #Flatland #Rjalker's OCs #Flatland OCs #Flyssa of Ib-Wa #Dearg of Ib-Wa #Lieutenant Kellite the Configurationist #described images #long post

9 notes · View notes

txemrn · 2 years

Note

ethan’s reaction to tatum saying ‘i have a boyfriend’ when ethan tries to hug/kiss her or smth because she’s wayyy too hammered? because i live for that scenario 💓

Mal! 💜 *hugs*

Thank you so, so much for including me with this Ask! It is quite possible I didn't understand the assignment (lol), but hey, I was inspired (like others) to write a fic! Thank you again; this is for you, love!

~💜~

Summary: While Tatum heads out for the evening, Ethan sorts through his own thoughts and feelings about his new relationship with an old friend.

Word Count: ~4150

Music Inspo: "MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT" - Loveless

Rating/Warning: 18+; adult situations; language; excessive alcohol consumption; unwanted sexual advances; innuendos and sexual discussion

AN: Huge thanks to my sweet friend @charlotteg234 for helping me through some of this. This is not truly beta'd, so please excuse my mistakes. Some of the characters and settings belong to our friends at Pixelberry!

~💜~

After painting on a vibrant, blood red lipstick, Tatum carefully finger combs her curls, her blonde tresses bouncing perfectly on her bare shoulders. She slips on her strappy, black stilettos when her phone begins to vibrate against her bathroom counter.

Noticing the familiar name on the screen, she bites her lower lip, butterflies swarming wildly in her stomach. It’s been almost two weeks since she and Ethan agreed to become an exclusive couple, and although every nerve in her body is screaming, craving for more of him, she is letting him set the pace. He needs to set the pace. And truthfully, she likes it that way.

She answers the video call. “Hey, you.”

A shirtless man with a strong, square jawline and freshly showered hair is taken aback. “Wow…” he nervously chuckles, his crystal eyes widening. “Hey, yourself. You look…” he subtly shakes his head back and forth, searching for the right words. “Just... wow," he finally exhales and smiles broadly. "Who are you wearing that red lipstick for?”

"Oh Ethan," Tatum sardonically giggles, rolling her eyes. “A couple of very happily married women, that's who,” she jests. Reagan and Adair, two of Tatum’s good friends from her practice in California, are visiting Boston for the weekend, and tonight, they are going out for dinner and drinks.

There’s a sudden knock on the door. “Oh,” Tatum’s attention is stolen from the video call. “Rams? They’re here.” She scrunches up her nose, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Have fun,” Ethan smirks before lowering his voice, “--with your red lipstick.”

“Oh God!” Tatum quickly looks in the mirror before looking back to her phone. “Does it look bad?”

“'Bad' isn't the word I would use," he smirks, his tone becoming husky, his eyes beginning to smolder. “Now... bitable?"

"Ethan Ramsey!"

He chuckles deviously. "Just… don’t forget you have a boyfriend while wearing it.”

"Ohhh," she singsongs. "A boyfriend, huh?" She playfully raises an eyebrow. "Did you just call yourself my boyfriend?"

Ethan's cheeks warm into a flush, resting his tongue into the side of his mouth. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

Tatum giggles, biting the tip of her tongue.

"Text me when you get home?" He gravelly whispers. Tatum purses her lips together, trying to hide her excitement as she begins to nod. "Have fun, Tate."

—------

"Julian!" Ethan extends his arm to his longtime good friend.

"Ramsey!" The tall, broad-shouldered man takes the offered hand, giving it a firm shake. "It's been way too long."

Chuckling to himself, Ethan pulls him into a hug, patting him on the back. “Way too long. Come on in! Make yourself at home.”

Julian Santiago is an ear, nose and throat physician with practicing privileges at three major hospitals in Boston, Edenbrook being one of them. He and Ethan met in clinicals at Johns Hopkins, and even roomed with each other at the end of their fourth year.

Each grabbing a beer, the men take seats on Ethan’s plush sectional couch. Against his owner’s dismay, Jenner eagerly jumps into Julian's lap, instantly welcomed with ear scratches and belly rubs. The room quickly fills with thunderous laughs and memories once lived as the two friends catch up on their professional and personal lives.

"Well, goddamn. Ethan Ramsey, Chief of Medicine." Julian's lips curl upward as he shakes his head.

“Pretty unbelievable, huh?” Resting his elbows on his knees, Ethan takes a sip of his beer before he looks back to Julian with a smirk.

“Unbelievable?” he scoffs, “fuck that. Ramsey, you’re a goddamn natural. You were meant to lead. We just needed to beat a little confidence into you. And… get rid of that shit attitude.” They both fall into knowing titters of laughter, Ethan burying his head in his hands.

“Fuck,” Ethan sits up, rubbing his forehead. “Don’t remind me.”

“But, goddamnit, look at you!” Julian holds a few fingers over his mouth, his warm chestnut eyes becoming sentimental. “I’m proud of you, man.” He holds out his drink as if to toast to his old college roommate. Ethan gently taps the neck of his beer with his bottle as they silently take a sip in cheers.

"God," Julian rubs his forehead. "So, I guess this means you've kissed your personal life goodbye then?"

Ethan gazes down at his hands that are anxiously rubbing together. A large, toothy smile uncontrollably fixes to his face.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Julian crosses his ankle over a knee, resting his chin on his hand. "Don't tell me. The redhead. Again?"

Ethan scowls back up at Julian, his eyebrows furrowed. "No. That's…" he sighs heavily. "... that's over."

"Thank God," he downs the rest of his beer. He motions with his thumb to the refrigerator, his host giving him a subtle nod for another lager. The men fall silent as Julian pops open the bottles.

Ethan clears his throat. "There is someone though."

"Oh yeah?" Julian offers a cautious grin, handing a beer to Ethan. "Another kindergartner?" He chuckles.

"Asshole," Ethan mutters, but unable to contain a snicker.

"Well?" Julian motions with his hand to keep going. "Tell me about her! What's her name? What does she look like? How did you guys meet? How's the sex?"

Ethan chokes out a laugh, avoiding his friend's gaze. His neck slowly swirls to red as he scratches his long stubble. "Well… I mean…"

Julian stares at Ethan carefully, a mischievous grin crawling across his face. "Huh."

"What?" Ethan steals a long swig of his drink.

"This girl," Julian nods assuredly, "cat's got your tongue, fool. She must be really special."

Ethan takes another sip, trying to conceal his joyous expression. Julian lounges back in his seat, a Cheshire grin growing larger as he watches Ethan become more and more uncomfortable, fidgeting and fumbling with his fingers.

"Is my brother, our forever bachelor, the world renown Dr. Ethan J. Ramsey… off the market? Possibly for good?"

Ethan casts a glare to Julian before raising his eyebrows and turning back to his drink.

"You son of a bitch! I knew it! Okay, seriously," he scoots closer to Ethan, stealing away his beer bottle. "Tell me."

Ethan begins to pop his knuckles, his demeanor lightening at the thought of his girlfriend. "Well…" he snickers, "it's Tatum."

Julian nods his head.

Then he freezes.

Then his eyes widen.

"Erikson?"

Ethan finally looks him in the eye, nodding as he rolls his lips.

"You… are back with–with Erikson?" He covers his mouth as he studies Ethan silently for a minute. He then begins to titter, slapping Ethan on the back. "Seriously? This… wow, I wasn't… I wasn't expecting this," he chuckles to himself. "How–how the fuck did this happen?"

Ethan runs his hands down his face as he leans back onto the couch. "She had moved to Boston to take care of some personal business, and before Dr. Banerji retired, he hired her as the chief of OB."

"And," Julian snickers, "did the bastard even tell you?"

Ethan rolls his eyes before joining in his friend’s laughter. "But damnit, Jay… she… she's just so…" he bites his lip, the corners of his lips turning up as he searches for words. He finally shrugs his shoulders, his eyes sparkling as he turns his attention back to his buddy. "... she's great."

"I always liked Tatum. She was always such a sweetheart." He whistles, "And fucking smart, dude." He shakes his head, gritting his teeth. "Damn, she gave us a run for our money."

Ethan scoffs. "Tell me about it. Our first day together, she challenged me in front of the entire ER staff."

"Was she right?"

Ethan scowls, taking another sip as his guest bursts out laughing.

"Goddamnit, Ramsey… “ Julian exhales dramatically, “Tatum Erikson. No shit." He licks his bottom lip. "Damn, I remember being so jealous of you. Fuck, we all were." He drops his head, lowering his voice. "Me and some of the guys… We were always hoping you two would get back together." He glances back to Ethan. "You look happy, man,” he raises his eyebrows in realization, “the happiest I have seen you in a long, long time."

Ethan bounces his head in agreement, his face naturally brightening as they fall into a comfortable silence.

“So, why are you being so shy about her?”

Ethan grunts as he drags his hands down his face. “I don’t know.” He pauses, searching his friend’s eyes. “It’s almost… too good to be true. We just… make sense. We fit so well together. I really want this to work out–I need… I need this to work out.”

“Are you afraid–” Julian stops, carefully choosing his next words, “--that she might–?”

“No,” Ethan rapidly shuts down his question. “We both made mistakes, Jay. But–” he shakes his head, “have we learned anything?” He props his elbow up on the arm of the couch, resting his cheek into the palm of his hand. “Maybe I’m overthinking it.”

Julian chuckles. “Sounds like love, dude.”

Ethan blows away a breath he was holding, the corner of his mouth turning up as he processes his buddy’s words.

"She still hot?"

Ethan flicks his eyebrows, licking his top lip.

"Nice. And the sex?"

"Julian! Jesus…" Ethan finishes his beer as he relaxes back into the couch, crossing his legs. "Cmon."

"You c'mon, dude!" He retorts. "My wife blue-balled me after the twins. Let me live vicariously through you."

"I mean," Ethan clears his throat, "we just became exclusive early last week."

"Meaning?"

"We haven't–I mean, we have. Just not yet. As a couple."

Julian raises an eyebrow before running a hand down his face. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

Ethan pinches the bridge of his nose. "It means we hooked up several weeks back–"

"Oh?" He interrupts, clicking his tongue in approval. "And?"

"And… I promptly apologized and told her we needed to keep things professional."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Ramsey!"

"I know, I know," Ethan buries his face in his large hands. "I was holding her, and she whispered that she missed me and… damnit! I–I panicked–"

"--or had a stroke! Jesus!" Julian jokes. "And you haven't fucked her since?"

Ethan sighs as he gathers the empty beer bottles, and heads towards the kitchen to throw them away. "It'll happen. We fell back into place. Eventually… that will, too." As he walks back to the living, Ethan notices his cell phone is in Julian's hands. "Um, Jay, what are you doing?"

"Getting you laid," Julian taps away on the phone. "And… send." He tosses the cellular to his friend.

Ethan clicks on his messages, reading the last outgoing text out loud. “‘Miss you’?” He chuckles. “That’s supposed to get me laid?”

“She’s out with her friends, right?” Ethan nods as Julian continues. “So, she’s going to read it to her friends, and they’re all going to be,” he raises the pitch of his voice, “‘Awwww that’s so sweet!’ and shit–”

“--they’re not twelve-year-old girls–”

“And Tatum is going to have hearts flying all around her, unable to get you out of her mind, and then–” he snaps his fingers, “she’s coming over later.”

“Jay, she’s going to know I didn’t send that.”

“Why?”

“‘Why?’” Ethan lets out a sarcastic snicker. “I don’t say shit like that!”

“Ahh, but we’re learning from our past mistakes, yes?” Julian offers a cheeky grin. “Trust me. Your dick will be wet in no time.”

Ethan shakes his head, rubbing his forehead with his fingers.

"So, are we watching the fight or what?"

—---

Tatum and her girlfriends dined at a modern, upscale steakhouse in downtown Boston; but rather than tour the bustling nightlife, the out-of-town visitors insisted on experiencing their friend's new East Coast digs by going to the local hangout for drinks and pool. Having had a few drinks at the restaurant, the ladies grabbed an Uber, and headed for Donahue's.

It's well past ten, but the night is just getting started at the popular sports bar. Tatum, Adair and Reagan down their third Patrón shot when a familiar R&B beat plays out over the place.

"Oh my God! I remember when this came out," Adair squeals as she sexily wiggles her hips back and forth. She motions with her fingers for the others to dance with her.

"I think I better sit this one out," Reagan holds on to a pool table. "How did we do this all the time in our 20s? I swear, the room is sideways–"

"--which is the perfect time to dance!" Adair grabs her friend's hand. "Right, Tate? Tate?"

The deep spits of Dr. Dre thunder through the speakers, hypnotizing the patrons. With the bubbles of alcohol coursing through her system, Tatum slowly rocks her hips to the rhythm as if the world is her own stage. She finger combs her tresses, holding her hair seductively back as she continues to dance. Her eyes flutter close as her red lips pucker. Her soft, glowing shoulders fluidly bounce to the music.

"Woo! Get it, Tate!"

Tatum scrunches up her nose, biting the tip of her tongue. She playfully swivels around and shakes her ass rapidly, her friends squealing and jovially spanking her. Downing the rest of her vodka tonic, Tatum turns to girlfriends. "C'mon, ladies!" Using their empty glass tumblers as microphones, the dancing friends begin singing to one another.

"Shorty get down, good Lord. Baby got 'em open all over town…"

"Dr. Erikson?"

Tatum freezes, twirling around only to be met with the kind, handsome face of a colleague from the ER department at the hospital. "Dr. Murray! And please," she puts her hand on her chest as if to introduce herself, "Tatum."

"Only if you call me Brett." He grins before turning his attention to Tatum's old colleagues. After exchanging pleasantries, Tatum learns that the ER physician is there with a few other men from his department to catch the big fight.

"Well, since you’re here and I’m here,” he sucks in a sharp breath, “we’re gonna have to settle something."

Tatum giggles, raising an eyebrow. "And what's that?"

"Who's the better triage department. ER versus OB."

Tatum rolls her eyes, turning to Reagan and Adair. "What do you say, ladies?"

"C'mon, vagina squad," playfully chides a swole paramedic, standing behind Brett.

"You're on, bucko!" Adair shouts out, puffing out her chest to taunt the men.

"Winner buys next round?" Tatum motions in a circle.

"Deal," Brett agrees, giving a charming wink to Tatum.

For the next hour, the friends and colleagues battle it out, all the while dancing and singing along to the best of the 90s. But after the fourth game, several people tapped out after the ER crew decided on a shot of Rumplemintz.

Having trouble maintaining her balance, Tatum puts away her pool stick. Brett quickly grabs her elbow, stabilizing her.

"Don't tell me you're quitting on me, too, Erikson."

She pulls her arm away from him. "I barely know my own name, let alone how many drinks I've had," she chuckles.

“You seem like the type that knows how to have fun all night,” he smirks.

Tatum frowns as she puts her hands up in front of her. “Are you–are you hitting on me?”

Brett chuckles condescendingly, glancing around the bar before fixing his eyes on the blonde doctor. “Now Tatum,” he points a patronizing finger in her face, “don’t be a cock tease.”

She swats his hand out of her way, her face disgusted by how quickly the night has turned into something awful. She scoffs, quickly turning to walk away.

"Wait," he jogs up ahead, placing a hand on her shoulder, "I'll come with you."

Tatum shrugs off his hand. "Don’t bother. G’night."

Hoping to lose him, Tatum squeezes herself into the mass of people, hovering around the bar to watch the last few seconds of the fight. Desperately needing water, she calls out to the bartender. "Reg?" She raises her arm to wave him down.

Without warning, Brett's deep voice is mere inches from her ear. Feeling his warm breath against her neck sends a scary chill down her back, the tiny hairs of her neck standing on end. "I got this, baby girl," he croons. As he raises his hand to holler for Reggie, his other hand intimately caresses the curves of Tatum's ass.

"Whoa!" She pushes his arm off of her as she turns around to push him away from her, knocking him into several onlookers. Utter shock scours her face. "Brett! You clearly got the wrong impression, but–"

Suddenly, Brett is being pulled out of the crowd by his shirt, his face contorting in discomfort.

"Oh my God!" Tatum yelps in horror, covering her mouth with her hands as she looks to see who's pulling him away. "Ethan?"

"She’s not interested, Murray, so get your goddamn hands off of her!" Ethan growls, shoving him towards the exit as he lets go of his now stretched-out shirt.

"Dr. Ramsey! I–I wasn't, I mean, I wasn't trying to do anything," Brett stammers.

Ethan takes a strong step forward, crossing his arms as he towers over the ER doctor. "I sure hope you weren't, especially since any kind of harassment on or off hospital property is grounds for dismissal," he snarls, his eyebrows furrowing. "Go crawl back to your pit, Murray."

"Yes, sir, Dr. Ramsey," Brett's voice cracks. "See you Monday, sir."

As bar patrons applaud and pat him on the back, Ethan glowers, watching the ER physician slink out the door. Ensuring his exit, he instantly turns to check on Tatum, but she's nowhere in sight. He looks around the bar, darting between people and tables, but his girlfriend is gone. "Damnit," he mutters.

He recognizes the women she was with earlier, slumped over a bar-top table. He approaches them kindly. He clears his throat. "Reagan? Adair?"

Reagan stirs, making eye contact with the brooding physician. "Oh my God! You–you're Ethan Ramsey!" She sticks out her hand to shake his. "I'm Reagan, and–and this is Adair." She points to the sleeping brunette with her arms over her head. She doesn't move. “Adair! Dr. McDreamy is here!” Reagan turns back to Ethan, batting her eyes poorly. "We've heard so many things about you–good things, of course!" She giggles with a large, toothy smile.

"Likewise," Ethan cordially nods, his eyes still roaming around the establishment. "Have you seen Tate?"

Reagan points to the hallway that leads to the restrooms before she lets out a loud hiccup, shocking Ethan's eyes wide.

After ensuring that Tatum’s good friends had a safe way back to their hotel, Ethan quickly turns on his heel to find the blonde.

"Oh, and Ethan?" Reagan slurs her words. He stops, hesitantly turning back around, forcing a grin. "That was so, so, so sweet of you to text Tate earlier, ya'know? During your guys' night."

Ethan stares at Reagan deadpan. "What?"

"I wish my husband was more thoughtful and sensitive like that. It was just, like, the cutest."

Ethan purses his lips. Fucking Jay. "That's me," he sarcastically agrees, "the cutest." He watches her slump over on top of Adair before he takes off to the restroom.

He takes a deep breath before pushing open the door to the cramped, three-stall room with a flickering overhead light. He scans the space, realizing there's only one other person in there with him: his girlfriend.

And his breath catches in his chest at the sight of her. And he smiles. They might be fifteen years older, but her body alone still makes him weak in the knees, his mouth instantly running dry.

Tatum is leaned in closely to the mirror, fixing the crimson paint on her lips. She’s wearing a pair of linen paperbag shorts, perfectly accentuating her well-rounded assets and the strong, sexy musculature of her long, tanned legs. She sways her hips back and forth to the muffled beat of an Eminem song playing in the main bar area, completely unaware of the set of piercing blue eyes watching her every movement.

She stands up straight, checking out the fit of her black halter and then her overall look. As she reaches for her clutch, a strong arm snakes around her waist while another hand delicately pushes her platinum waves off of her neck.

"Hey, baby," Ethan purrs gravelly, nuzzling his full lips and nose into her neck.

Her face falls, pulling his arm off of her. She whips around, crossing her arms.

“What’s wrong–?”

"Were you spying on me, Dr. Ramsey?" She bites back quickly.

Ethan raises his eyebrows. "'Dr. Ramsey'? 'Spying'?" He scoffs into a chuckle under his breath. "Tate, I–"

"I was handling that situation with Brett just fine… unless–" her eyes fall into a glare, "--do you not trust–?"

"Stop." Ethan holds two fingers to her pout, his eyes captivating her attention. “Tate, I don’t want to spy on you. I–” he sighs, a corner of his mouth curling, “--I know I don’t have to do that, baby. Ever. And tonight?” He shakes his head. "I honestly had no idea you and the girls were going to make a stop here. Jay and I came here to watch the fight." He chuckles under his breath. “But I’m glad I got to catch a little bit of your personal show,” he slowly combs a few blonde locks behind her ear, “with you dancing, looking so sexy.” As she coyly looks at the ground, his eyes train to her plump, parted lips. He runs his thumb across the deep rouge, the color smudging on his hand as he pictures it smeared on other parts of his own body.

And he begins to harden.

“That damn lipstick,” he roughly purrs. He steps closer to her, tenderly slipping his large hands over her shoulders. "And I know you can handle yourself with dipshits like Murray,” Ethan pushes his hips against Tatum, her body pressed against the porcelain sink. His lips hover close to her ear as he lowers his voice. Deeper. Huskier. “But so help me, Tate,” he growls, “I’m not going to sit back and watch him or anyone else touch something that belongs to me.”

Tatum glances back into Ethan’s eyes, seeing the hunger in his stare. She swallows thickly as he leans in close, his eyes fluttering shut, his lips barely brushing against hers. Placing her hands on the sink behind her, she playfully leans away from his advances. “But Dr. Ramsey,” she bites her bottom lip, as he glares inquisitively at her. “I have a boyfriend.”

A mischievous expression crosses his face. He undoes the tie of her shorts before unzipping them, his gaze never leaving her ocean blues. “Then, we better not tell him.”

Tatum giggles, tossing her tresses over her shoulders before looking back to the man nudging himself intimately between her legs. “Not tell him what–” she bends her knee, curling her leg around his waist, “--Dr. Ramsey?”

“How your red lipstick got smeared between your thighs.”

—----

“... Call me back, asshole.”

The fight ended well-over thirty minutes ago, and a slightly tipsy Julian can’t get ahold of his good friend as he paces outside on the sidewalk. He fires off another text to Ethan, saying that he arranged a ride home when all of a sudden, he hears a kind, cheerful voice.

“Julian?”

The funny, quick-witted man turns around eagerly. And smiles. “Tater Tot? Get your fine ass over here, girl!” Tatum runs up to her old college friend, closing the gap between them as she playfully jumps into his broad, strong arms. He easily scoops her off the ground, rocking her back and forth in a giant bear hug. “You better be taking care of my boy,” he whispers, patting her firmly on the back.

Tatum giggles knowingly. “Um… your boy took care of me, Santiago.”

Julian sets her down, giving her an inquisitive look before he looks up at the familiar person walking towards him. With his hands in his pockets, Ethan saunters up slowly behind them with an untucked shirt, disheveled hair and a large grin, looking more relaxed than ever.

“Well, well, well,” Julian boasts loudly. “I guess things aren’t professional anymore, are they Ramsey?” He falls in a boisterous laugh as Ethan takes Tatum in his arms, both of them blushing into snickers. As they quiet down, Julian’s Uber arrives to pick him up. He crawls into the backseat, but before he takes off, he rolls down the window. “You kids go have fun,” he winks before spanking the air in front of him. “There’s a lot of fu–”

“Okay, asswipe,” Ethan threateningly steps towards the car, “you’re done. Get out of here.”

“Oh, Jay!” Tatum approaches the car as it brakes. “I just wanted to tell you that… I missed you, too,” she winks.

Julian furrows his eyebrows, giving her a confused look. “Huh?”

“Your message? 'Miss you'?"

An abrupt guilty expression paints across Julian's face as he snickers to himself.

"C'mon, Santiago!" She laughs, "in what universe would anyone think that text was from Ethan Ramsey?”

~💜~

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