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everlastiingiimmortals · 1 year

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>HSR Multimuse & OC Roleplay Blog. >Indie. >Selective/Mutuals-only. >OC/Duplicate friendly. >written by Willow. (she/they | 22 | EST)

An RP blog ft. Jing Yuan, Feixiao, and Dr. Ratio from Honkai Star Rail, as well as multiple OCs. Please read the rules before following; dark content is present on this blog! banner ©

Personal Blogs DNI! 20+

semi-hiatus!

Wishlist | Crush Check | Dynamics Interest | Perm. Inbox Call | Owed Replies

>Replies: 10 | Starters: 0 | Inbox: 5 | Queue: 0

Rules under the cut: [Updated 09.07.2024 (m/d/y)]

Intro.

Howdy, I’m Willow! You'll see that I use Tabasa from END ROLL as my faceclaim. As I'm perpetually tired, my activity is irregular, but I tend to stay fairly present even if it's just as a lurker. My Discord is available for chatting, but I will only give it out to trusted individuals.

1. OC friendly! Duplicates are welcome, too! For comfort reasons, I try to not follow duplicates first unless they state they're okay with it. I am hesitant on crossovers unless I know you, the mun, well. It's just a bigger comfort zone for me to step out of.

2. I am mutuals only. If I can’t read your carrd/theme, I will softblock or hardblock you to avoid interaction. If I don’t see our rules and preferences meshing well, I’ll hardblock to avoid any conflict! Feel free to softblock/hardblock me as well if that’s the case on your end too, but if there’s a specific issue you have please come talk to me!

3. Please take a look at each muses’s bio for more details on their ship status! I am very open to multiship and shipping in general; so long as our muses have chemistry, I’ll likely vibe. That being said, some muses might have restrictions based on their character or sexuality, so it’s best to look at each muse. Please also take a look at the relations tab for other restrictions, such as potential exclusives. 3a. I’m open to having you as a main if we RP a lot or talk extensively about our muses OOC! Exclusives are rare and more circumstantial based on friendship or dynamic; I do not default to limiting my ships. Of course, I respect others' rules on exclusivity. 3b. I am a dark/toxic dynamic enthusiast, and shipping to me does not necessarily connote a healthy romance for that reason. I will of course require discussions for that kind of thing, but note that I'm absolutely not opposed to the occasional dead dove, or even (noncanon) drabbles, asks, or threads where my muses are killed or worse in those scenarios. Obviously, rape, incest, and pedophilia are absolute no-gos.

4. I am very willing to have duplicates interact, particularly for Stelle! I think there's a lot of very fun potential to be explored there. Due to the inherent multiversal nature of HSR, as a general rule my canon HSR muses are aware of the multiverse and will react accordingly. You will not see any surprised by another version of themself. 4a. Please check this post for more information.

5. Magic Anons. I will not participate in these, so please do not send them to me.

6. I will also not pressure myself to answer every single ask I receive or commit to every starter. I delete asks, a lot, especially if they're spontaneous/unprompted. This is nothing against you if I don’t respond to your ask or starter, though I do my best; my energy can be rather fleeting and unpredictable, and though I love unprompted asks I sometimes struggle to maintain the motivation to answer them. I will absolutely let you know if I feel I need to drop a thread. 6a. If you don’t specify which muse you want me to answer for in an ask, I may not answer it.

7. Mun is of age, HOWEVER I will not be roleplaying anything explicitly smut-related on Tumblr (though sexual HC memes might be shared for my adult muses depending on my mood). Some things might get a little spicy, but at most I will fade to black. Gore and other disturbing scenarios are more than okay. Angst is tasty. That being said, see the next rule:

8. I’ll do my best to tag potentially triggering topics, but if something comes up that I haven’t tagged properly, do let me know! I tag as #trigger tw and #trigger cw.

9. Respect my muses’ power. I do play some very powerful characters, including gods. I will not metagame nor godmod, and all I ask is that you do the same.

10. Communication is key! Please talk to me for anything, whether it be potential plots, current ones, headcanons, active threads, etc etc. If you have questions or concerns, please please reach out.

11. As a selective blog, I won’t be roleplaying with non-roleplay/personal blogs! Sorry! If you’re a personal blog and you don’t have an RP dedicated sideblog, please do not interact with my posts. I will block personal blogs that reblog my content on sight. 11a. DNI list: for my own comfort, I found that it is best for me to set up a DNI list for fandoms/series that I'd like to avoid. That being said, please dni if you rp the following series: Helluva Boss. Hazbin Hotel. Welcome Home.

#//preserved in time; (PINNED)

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orangetintedglasses · 10 months

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Mod explain "net of awareness"

( Vash's proverbial dangersense ability and it's range; him extending or withdrawing his senses to get a basic feel for life and structures around him, with some obvious limitations. Like, consider the following--

--as Vash's 'passive' radius, where-- going by D&D rules --each square is 5 feet. Vash's passive sense range is about 20 feet beyond his person. When he extends it out, it can go further, up to near 100 feet (he did this in Colt's thread as an example!)... but that's where it's actually a strain to keep it up for more than a few minutes.

When he's coiling up his powers, which is what he's normally doing--

--the ability is still present, but it's more or less another him's body length away and that's it, c'ause he can't turn it off completely. I don't consider this as passive since he's actively suppressing it, which goes against the definition LMAO. And of course, if there's a building or something in the way, he can't sense through the building, and he's still capable of being surprised (think the fence he ran into in ep 5!)

But THIS is what I'm thinking when I say that shit LMAO )

#curtains down ✧〗( ooc )#don't look behind the curtain ✧〗( ooc ask response )#independent plant manual ✧〗( headcanon )#long post;;#( obvi this is how *I* personally interpret how Vash works )#( but yeah when i say that this is what pops into my brain )#( is it overpowered? probably. but it's Vash )#( that's kinda standard )

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bluekwyrm · 2 years

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Hi!

Yep, this is the one and only Bluekwyrm! You really thought someone else would pick the name that hardly anyone knows to pronounce? Apparently it's custom to post a bit of an intro here, so here we go!

I'm Bluekwyrm (pronounced like bookworm but then with blue and 'wirm', but you can just call me Blue), I'm good with any pronouns (whichever you think fit me best. Most call me she/her, if you have trouble deciding), I'm Dutch (yep, we're everywhere), and I was born in 1995 (that's all you're getting from me regarding birthdays. And yes. I'm aware I'm old).

First and foremost, I'm a streamer on twitch.tv/Bluekwyrm (see link below). Secondly, I really love to write. See, Twitter has a character limit that I often fight with. Tumblr doesn't. Their mistake, honestly, but I hereby formally apologise for any story-length posts I may share.

Technically speaking, I have been around Tumblr for a long while, but I never got the hang of it. With so many people moving here and plenty of helpful threads on how Tumblr works, I figured I should just try again.

As for streaming; I mostly play Minecraft and puzzle games, but you may know me from my month-long Puzzle Hunts (... Which this is an amazing new platform for to use! Pog!) or my Origins Datapack, which I coded on stream and play on with friends.

Apart from Twitch, you can find me here:

https://twitter.com/bluekwyrm

(I hope these look better in the actual post than they do in the preview...)

Anyways. That should be enough for an introduction. Thanks for taking the time to read this and hopefully I'll see you soon :D

- Blue

#introduction #first post #Bluekwyrm

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kiridarling · 3 years

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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎.

katsuki bakugou | competitive sex + f!reader + pro hero!kats + hickeys + hair-pulling + ripping clothes + a surprise guest + more! minors dni.

— 1.8k words

"Text Shitty Deku we're gonna be little late."

“Katsuki. Hands off.”

The ash-blond sighs, grumbling like the petulant child he is before forcing his hands to his sides. Glaring at you through the mirror, he grunts, “Fuckin’ why.”

"Because I'm trying to get ready and you're in the way." You swat his hands away and reach for a brush, rolling your eyes when he ignores everything you just said in favor of hooking his chin around your shoulder and wrapping his arms around your waist. You shrug him off, "Now move."

In your defense, you've been pushed to your limit.

You two are already late enough for the Gala as it is, you know, the one that's exclusively for pro heroes. And yet, for some reason, today's the day your boyfriend's brain seems to be in his dick.

Katsuki digs his teeth into your neck, hard enough to make you whimper before you rip his head away by the strands of his hair. He growls in frustration, the grip on your waist ever-tightening.

"Y'know...if people saw the type of shit you pull in private, they'd think you were the aggressive one."

"You let me get away with it," you respond absentmindedly, leaning towards the mirror until the cool from the counter presses into your gut. Mistake.

"Right. I've been too fuckin' soft, huh?" Katsuki says more to himself than to you before he's forcing you over the sink with a heavy hand on your back; the metal from the faucet knocks you in the collarbone. "That shit changes today."

"I—Kats, we don't have ti—" but the indisputable sound of ripping cloth bounces off your bathroom walls, and the addition of cool air brushing your inner thighs implies precisely what you hope he didn't just do.

His phone clatters on the counter before he's nudging your legs wider, nestling between them, and settling on his knees.

"Text Shitty Deku we're gonna be late."

"Katsuki Bakugou, did you just rip my fucking stockings?" You howl, grip tightening around the marble countertop in fury. Katsuki growls, delivering a heavy slap to your ass.

"I said fuckin' text him."

Your chest rises and falls with indignance, and yet you're punching in the code to his phone anyway, telling Izuku to reserve two spots at the table next to him because you two won't be able to do it yourselves.

"D'ya send it?" Katsuki asks, having a blast as he kneads your exposed ass to the point where it's sore. You nod, dropping the six-by-four box onto the countertop in resignation, and the ash-blond's chest rumbles at that, hand disappearing only to crack back down twice as hard. "Good girl."

Pushing your panties to the side, Katsuki wastes no time in sliding in his finger to the first knuckle, grinning when you shudder against him. You squeal as his teeth graze your inner thigh, and he hikes your knee onto the couch, dismissing how much you complain about the burn.

"What? Can't get a better view?" He growls, cheeky bastard, before he's sucking a hickey into your thigh because he knows you like it and pushing his finger in the rest of the way. You narrow your eyes, glaring at the small sliver of his smug face you can actually see in the mirror—and he's quickly filling you with a second finger, chuckling at your moan.

"You shouldn't have a view in the first place," you grumble, insistent on standing your ground. "You should be viewing the road because we're supposed to be driving right now."

"That's a real fuckin' pity then," Katsuki responds apathetically, lips pink as he moves to suck another hickey—closer to the apex of your thighs this time. You whimper as he scissors his fingers and passes a messy thumb over your clit, hips burning from holding this position for so long. With a final lick, Katsuki pulls away from his third or fourth mark (you're not too sure) and smacks his lips. "On the sink."

"On the c—Katsuki we have to g—wah!"

Katsuki takes it upon himself to hook his arms under your thighs and hoist you onto the cool thing, sending all miscellaneous bathroom items flying. You sigh, accepting the fact that you're probably not going to make it out of the house tonight as your back kisses the freezing glass, and Katsuki pushes your knees as far back as they'll go.

He curls a lip, and then he spits, getting saliva all over your pussy and thighs, and it's wholly and utterly lewd. And yet, you bite your lip at the feeling, and he grins, knowing you like it just as much as you'll say you hate it.

"You're a fuckin' dirty girl, y'know that?" Katsuki's eyes go dark. You huff, threading a hand through his ash-blond locks to tug—and you're the one grinning when he moans.

"I'm not the one who's making us skip a mandatory gala to get his dick wet," you quip with a raised eyebrow, and your hand never leaves his hair. "Am I?"

Katsuki growls with a curled lip, but you know better, and so does the clammy grip on your thigh. You tug on his hair again, and suddenly you're full of him, yelping in surprise as your arms scramble for his back for better purchase instead.

"What was that?" He asks breathily, hiding a groan behind a bitten lip. You're just thankful he's giving you time to adjust, or so you think, until he almost pulls out entirely before his hips snap forwards as hard as they can, knocking your spine into the mirror and a bottle of lotion onto the floor.

You moan, hands searching for his hair again because you know it's one of the only things that will provide a one-up—Katsuki bares his teeth at that, bending over to suck a mark into your neck and his hips continue to fuck you into tomorrow.

"You fit like a goddamn glove," Katsuki wheezes, the grip he has around your stocking-covered thigh edging on bruising. "So tight around me—fuck—"

"K-Kats—" you grapple for his dress shirt so hard it tears, causing you to crash against the counter and make more of a mess that's already been made. The ash-blond's hips don't do anything but speed up though, filling you to the point where a deep breath feels like too much.

"Fuck baby, you're so goddamn needy," Katsuki grabs your attention by your jaw with a gritty chuckle, "But this shit's only for me, ain't it? 'Cause you're fuckin' mine."

You whimper with a nod, nails latching onto hot and sticky skin now. Katsuki hisses as they rake down his back, but that only makes you want to dig in harder.

"Fuckin' say it—tell me you're mine and no one else's," he challenges with a glint in his carmine red eyes, and something in your gut churns underneath it. Something painfully primal and raw, which has you howling out:

"'M yours, only yours!"

You jolt when his thumb returns to your clit and refuses to let up. Katsuki growls at that, somehow finding the stamina to speed up—and gripping your shoulder for leverage. You moan, eyes fluttering as his cock reaches the deepest it has tonight, and you’re sure Katsuki can tell as well if his curse is anything to go by.

Ring, ring! Ring ring!

Surprisingly, Katsuki's phone survived the purge and still sits on the counter, albeit teetering on the edge of absolute destruction. The ash-blond catches it before it falls and has the nerve to swipe right, not allowing you to fit in an objection or any say in this at all.

"The fuck do you want, Deku?" He grunts, putting the phone on speaker before he sets it back down. You eep in protest, but all he does is mouth the words quiet, baby. So you're huff, biting onto the meat of your palm for extra precaution.

"Um, Kacchan? Where are you guys?" The greenette's voice echoes off the bathroom walls to the point where it's nearly comical how clueless he is, and yet Katsuki refuses to slow down. "People are starting to ask when you're getting here..."

"Not fuckin' goin'," Katsuki's sweat drips from his brow onto your chest, and all of a sudden, you're aware of how painfully close you are, but hold back in fear of making too much noise. Izuku sighs through the phone, and you can feel his disappointment from here.

"I—Kacchan, you can't just opt out of these things, you know," Izuku says, echoing your words from earlier. "Mandatory means you have to attend."

"Yeah, well, I got better shit to do, Deku," the ash-blond spits, though he's grinning like the devil because the asshole knows you're close, he can just tell at this point, and you hate how well he knows your body.

"It doesn't matter if you don't want to go, Kacchan!" The pro-hero shrills, voice peaking out of pure frustration. "This is mandatory. As in, M-A-N-D-A-T—"

Katsuki hangs up.

"Why is everyone so goddamn mouthy these days?" He grunts, primarily to himself, and somehow you have the will to giggle. Katsuki's eyebrows furrow as you tighten around him, spurred when the head of his cock nudges the perfect spot, and his nails start to tear into what's left of your stockings as he shudders, "I—fuck baby, I'm gonna cum."

"What? Being on the phone with Izuku got you all riled up or something?" You jest breathily, and Katsuki growls, slapping your outer thigh.

"Don't fuckin' bring the nerd up right now," he wheezes, and you resist the urge to quip back—mainly because you're close yourself. You reach to pull Katsuki's hair again and his hips stutter, eyes fluttering with a breathy moan as he finally fills you up, keening over to dig his teeth into your neck. And his orgasm is only the catalyst for your own, thumping your hands against his chest as your body ignites like a live wire, toes curling and eyes screwed shut.

Katsuki stays seated in you as he catches his breath, head resting on the cool mirror with his ash-blond hair mattes brown to his forehead. He's always uncharacteristically soft while basking in his afterglow, face and chest flushed bright red from exertion as his eyes soften in a way he rarely lets them.

"You good?" He pants, chest still heaving as he blinks down at your exhausted figure. Somehow, you find the energy to nod.

"I don't feel like leaving anymore, though," you declare towards the ceiling. Katsuki clicks his tongue.

"Was hopin' you'd say that," he says gruffly—you narrow your eyes but bite your tongue. "Wanna watch a movie?"

A movie doesn't sound...bad.

You sigh in defeat (again), though jolting when Katsuki's phone rings. He quickly presses red, and 9 missed calls from shitty fucking deku is the first notification on his home screen. You two share a look—the ash-blond shrugs.

"What? I told the fucker I had better shit to do."

wrote this for a friends bday and i was like,,,i guess i could put it here too...

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #bakugou smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x reader

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trueishcolours · 2 years

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I highkey agree. About the issues, the lack of trust, and the half naked bathroom situation. I actually wrote a WHOLE rant about the half naked bathroom situation and then I decided that wasn't the main point of your ask and you don't deserve to bear the full force of all my thoughts about Consent, so I'm going to post that separately tomorrow.

I mean, everyone can have their own interpretation of the Bathroom Scene (ep 7) but I think it's been broken down and analyzed enough to show that Porsche wasn't really that drunk or drunk at all during that scene. (I should mentioned that in the video above, it has been enlarged by a fan, he is not shown solely or directly by the camera which may be the reason people don't catch the way his face shifts.)

If you look at all the other times that Porsche has been shown drunk or compromised (drugged) they make it a point to show the audience what he's drinking + a close up of his face: flushed and eyes half lidded/shut. Exhibit A: during the pier kiss, we see that him and the gang are throwing back drinks and his drunk face. Exhibit B: we can also see this when the bartender drugs his drink with a green drug (the date rape drug). Exhibit C: During this episode, we got neither a close up of his face nor him throwing back drinks (at least not up close). Exhibit D: during the time he was supposed to watch over Kinn and instead was throwing back champagne glasses and nearly got Kinn killed by the assassin woman. Which, to me, implies he's not as drunk as he's letting on. When he's acting "drunk" in this episode, we see, in the background, the entire time, Vegas watching him intently. When Vegas is hauling him into the bathroom the screenwriter makes it a point for Vegas to say "I thought you were a heavy drinker" which I think is entirely obvious that 1. Porsche isn't drunk 2. He's acting dumb because he's trying to sus Vegas up. That much is obvious. Not to mention that when he goes to leave the bathroom after Kinn pisses him off, he doesn't stumble or need help standing up the way Vegas was doing when he dragged him in.

In my opinion, he wasn't drunk. I don't think a character needs to say "I am not drunk" when it has already been subtly set up that he isn't.

I just think the audience is just being shown half the information because Porsche is up to something that Kinn is not aware of and in that moment, we are seeing Porsche through Kinn's POV (which is to say, very limited and with no knowledge/context of what's going on).

<blockquote>"If you look at all the other times that Porsche has been shown drunk or compromised (drugged) they make it a point to show the audience what he's drinking."</blockquote>

Okay, but we literally see that in this scene as well? We see Porsche finish his first glass of champagne, then Vegas offering him another, then a montage of him swaying on the dance floor, cigarette in one hand and glass in the other. It seems pretty odd to look at all these clear signifiers that a character is drinking and say, 'actually this is all secret code for how the character is not drinking.' The scene wasn't a shot-for-shot replica of the scene in Yok's bar, but to me the vibe was pretty similar.

Not to mention it seems in character for Porsche to drink at this point. In ep. 3 he was trying to cope with participating in the torture and murder of the man who owed money to Kinn's family. Now he's participated in a lot more torture and murder, plus he's spent the whole episode locked in with Vegas, whom he suspects isn't trustworthy but whom he can't really get away from or protect himself from at this point. We know that when Porsche feels cornered, he acts out in self-destructive ways, and when he's involved in violence, he drinks to forget. I reckon he was drinking in ep. 7.

All that being said, I looked at the gifs in the twitter thread you linked, and I do see the point the commenters are making there. It's noticable that he slumps back against the sinks for a moment, 'flushed face and eyes half lidded' as you described - then sits back up and opens his eyes, glancing about in an aware and thoughtful way. He also does seem to pull it together remarkably quickly when Kinn bursts in. I was willing to chalk that up to the sobering effects of adrenaline, or just a slight continuity error because the writers wanted him drunk enough to be vulnerable to Vegas but also wanted him to be an active participant in the quarrel with Kinn that followed. But it's also possible that he was faking being drunk. I think that would be a pretty cool piece of character development, because so far Porsche hasn't really taken the initiative or shown a calculating side, but he's now more used to how the mafia operates and maybe ready to make a move of his own. I would enjoy seeing him take the drunken behaviour the mafia have come to expect from him and use it as a ruse to get information.

I'm not sure what useful information he might hope to gain from Vegas by doing this, though. The man's unlikely to start villain monologuing just because Porsche is drunk. The fact that Vegas makes a pass at Porsche does prove that he's trying to rile Kinn up and score points against him - but that's already obvious to anybody who sees them interact. What Kinn needs is hard evidence that Vegas is not only fucking with him on a personal level but actually is behind the attempts on his life, and I don't think anything he was likely to say or do to Porsche would prove that. The audience knows that Vegas' attempts to harm Porsche are serious attacks on Kinn, but Kinn's family won't see it that way, because from their point of view Porsche is just a bodyguard and Kinn shouldn't be that invested in him anyway. I guess maybe Porsche has an inkling that Vegas was behind the last drugging and kidnapping, and if he tries it again that could confirm his suspicion? But I'm reaching here.

So yeah. 'Porsche wasn't really drunk' is a cool theory and I can see where it came from, but I don't think we can say it's watertight.

Based on the quote that you chose to start off your ask, I'm guessing that this isn't only about whether Porsche was drunk, but also about whether the bathroom scene was consensual. I'm not going to go all anti about the bathroom scene; it was excellent and emotionally nuanced; but it had MANY consent issues and Porsche being maybe-drunk was the least of them. A more pressing concern to me was Kinn's GUN.

#kinnporsche #monstrous conversations

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old-school-butch · 4 years

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I'd like to ask..

As a radfem, how do you negotiate being butch so to speak, considering the history between the lesbian feminism of the 70's and butch-femme culture? I feel so connected to butch-femme but at the same time I feel like an outsider as a radical feminist when the limited butch-femme community I've seen has been very "progressive" and anti-terf. I feel saddened by the fact that the people who share my political views are the ones who denounced what I hope(d?) to be my way of loving.

And also.. reading Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold recently kinda hurt my heart because.. although I'm strongly aware that the idea of butch as a type of male privilege or oppressor role is completely false and flawed, reading about the violence towards and control over femmes that butches started to cultivate in the late 50's makes me feel so conflicted as a radfem. How can I know myself as being part of butch-femme culture and embrace the history of those before me without excusing the violence that the butch identity once encapsulated?

I found it so difficult to read the nonchalant accounts of partner violence from butches of the bar-scene and it made me feel ashamed if that makes sense.. how do you feel comfortable and proud identifying as butch when historically this was linked to violence, while being a feminist? How could a femme lesbian have historically identifed as such without being complicit in her own pain?- not for staying in an abusive relationship but for supporting and being proud to be part of a framework in which she was almost required to be submissive and treated like her partner's property.

And of course there were likely to be "bad apples" who did these things on an individual scale, but for butch history to include a period of time where control was glorified and expected feels so horrible. Even though things aren't the same now it's difficult to think about and acknowledging/denouncing what happened doesn't make it better. At my age I do not know anybody who calls themself a lesbian (too old-fashioned), and so I'm looking to the past rather than the present for community and for lack of a better word, validation. I am finding it hard to have pride in this past as radical feminism seemed to have ridiculed femme, and femme seemed to have "allowed" herself to be treated with inferiority (can provide examples if needed from BLSG).

( note: please excuse any typos as I'm on mobile, and sorry for the long ask/vent, I didn't know who else to ask this and it's been on my mind a lot since reading BLSG. finally to clarify, this is not a call-out post against butch-femme, rather a call for help. thank you for reading! )

-please only publish if anonymous, am using alt account-

I haven’t read BLSG, but it’s based on interviews conducted in 1993 with 45 women in a narrow demographic, and with a specific agenda of using these narratives to support the researchers’ thesis that working-class, American butch-femme couples were the ‘roots of gay and lesbian liberation‘. Take everything in there with a good amount of salt. May I suggest some more primary source reading for you? Try anything by Joan Nestle, and the deliciously melodramatic Beebo Brinker series by Ann Bannon. These works provide some more authentic snapshots of people being people, in an era where being the kind of people they were, was very difficult.

I’m not saying that women aren’t complex and sometimes abusive, or that we don’t internalize our societal values - of course we do. And lesbians in that era were often out of work, living in fear, with horrible rates of addiction and mental illness - I can well imagine life was less than ideal and relationships were strained even on a good day. But in an era where there was no national gay or lesbian media, where gay people were socially invisible... there was - by definition - no gay culture per se. Even as visibility increased in the 1970s, that publicly-facing community still would have represented a tiny fraction of the overall population. There’s a reason that the ‘coming out’ story is the single, common thread of narrative in our culture - it’s the only near universal cultural experience.

It’s true that radical feminism has a long standing critique of butch-femme culture, it always struck me as a bit pedantic when the official ‘right’ way to be was ‘androgynous’ - which looked a lot like butch-lite to me. But they are correct with the overall critique of gender - and I’m actually somewhat surprised that fewer radfems today critique butch and femme identity. In some ways, they laid the groundwork of some of the gender nonsense we see today. However, radical feminism has it’s flaws too. We echo society’s scorn for women when we denigrate women who enjoy feminine aesthetics and can fall into a form of victim-blaming and over-critique. The calls to take self-defence classes and work in trades got much more play than the movement to pay wages for housework. The feminine values of caregiving and empathy are so thoroughly exploited that feminism itself struggles to accept them as essential to human society.

Anyway, I call myself butch because it’s what stuck from all the many things I’ve been called, most of them unflattering. If I describe myself as butch and then meet someone IRL, they aren’t surprised at what I look like. However, it’s not prescriptive to me, just descriptive. Not ‘a way of loving’ as you had hoped for. At the end of the day, you have to find your own path, and let other people lay their labels at your feet without confining where you leave your footsteps in the sands of time.

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wolfofwinchester · 3 years

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💘 / I'm getting to ours but I'd like to see what you have in mind uvu!

send me 💘 + A SHIP and i’ll tell you—

where they first met and how

When Lord Phantomhive brought home his bastard, a few key villainous nobles were present to meet her a few days after her arrival. The Undertaker was among them, although he was hidden away and out of her eyesight so she never really seen him outside of flashes of silver and a flow of black. Inevitably, it turned into The Hunt of her trying to find out who this mysterious “Aristocrat” was.

how long their ‘flirting’ phase was before feelings got involved

I could see playful flirtations being part of their aesthetic. It fits, I think! Never serious before and they knew it, they were just messing around with winks and flirtatious comments, sometimes getting a rise out of the other, other times pretending to be one another’s significant other for reasons of their own (let it be getting a free meal for Valentine’s Day or for a cover-up where they’re both in disguise). As such, I think the playfulness went on for a gooooood while, some years of cozy play before things got r e a l.

who fell for who first ( if applicable )

To even their writers, I feel this is meant to be ambiguous. �� They’re That Kind of Couple.

where their first date was and what it was like

I think they both thought it more comfortable if it was a private affair; nothing so public as a dinner at a restaurant, and nothing so closed-in as the manor. I think their first date was something of a very elegant and rich picnic somewhere in the countryisde, lost from civilzation and farm buildings. A little peace of solitude where they got to enjoy one another’s company while Lilac chased the hounds around the rolling fields of green.

A picnic and just wiling away the hours talking, huddled up side-by-side and safe from blinding light beneath an enormous willow tree. After that, I think they went back to Azrael’s Funeral Parlor and spent the rest of the evening there just having laughs and wine. Just a really long, and really good day that ended with both of them snoozing in Azrael’s coffin. It’s not made for two people, so Claudia slept on top of him and he held her the whole night through. They woke to find Lilac sleeping on top of her and a floor flooded with hound dogs + Gelert.

who asks who out and how ( with a sign? spelled out on a cake? just a simple ‘will you go out with me’? )

Azrael steals first proclamation of love and kiss, but Claudia steals these moments. She made the first step after their confessions, asking with a sly grin if he’d like to have dinner with her. It was done very smoothly while they were still in the afterglow of requited feelings, when they were both basking and feeling that glowing mirth. An hour or so after that, I believe.

who proposes first

Claudia, absolutely. Marriage is never a concern of Azrael’s, he’s fine with things as they are! It’s never a required step in his mind. He goes with his lover’s flow.

if they keep / kept their relationship secret or let everyone know right away

Claudia’s rebellion in the Watchdog role succeeded into her relationship. Azrael’s vigilant and he wants them to stay a secret for Claudia’s own good in her public image, but Claudia’s ambitious nature to not let this life control her gently tussles with that. As such, the public sees them as a very odd pair, not there’s no confirmation of their relationship. They’re a forbidden romance waltzing in plain sight who have rumors spark up that end up hushed immediately.

“We’ll be discovered,” He whispers into her lips, earning a sharp-toothed grin that nips his bottom lip. “And so what? I’m already goin’ down in history as the most notorious Bastard of Phantomhive. ♪”

where the proposal happens and how ( kiss cam at a baseball game? on a hillside surrounded by ducks? at a disney park? )

It wasn’t precisely the ideal or dreamy, romantic proposal Claudia wanted it to be. For over a year, she’d been secretly working on the perfect ring for Azrael in her workshop, and it’s led to many rejects she felt were never perfect. The frustration of an artist led to art block, and that clashed direly with her desire to propose to the man! Lots of ring rejects! Despite them all being quite lovely, she never felt they were correct. There were strings of rings around her workshop at this point that she turned to for inspiration.

Finally, she had the perfect ring. Polished, and just right. The hyper glory of having perfected the ring after this long led the very tired, frazzled and disheveled woodworker zipping on horseback into London to that old Funeral Parlor, throwing open the door, finding a VERY befuddled Azrael who hadn’t seen her in days, and proceeding to capture his wedding hand.

For a solid minute, Azrael swore he seen his unlife flash before his eyes with how fast she approached him! He thought he did something wrong, or was falsely accused! You’d never seen a more bewildered man be proposed to by a very exhausted but very passionate woman. From an outsider’s point of view, it was hilarious before it became very tender and quiet. ???? WHAT’D I D- oooh?

It wasn’t scenic, but it was full of heart. Claudia apologized for storming in, but she had to do this right away because she couldn’t hold herself back another minute. She told him how important he was to her, and how important he’s been to her. He’s been her sole companion who didn’t need to be by her side, but he chose to be, despite how dangerous her life is and how loony of a woman she is. He’s been her trusted companion, and in this life, he’d come to be her best friend over so many years of them knowing each other.

It went from flighty to quiet and emotional. She asked him to marry her, and whattaya know, he accepted.

if they adopt any pets together

They’re pretty happy with their fuzzy family already, but I think Azrael’s tendency to take in strays leads to them having a few kits down the road. Any cat of his at this point is extended to being auto-adopted by Claudia.

who’s more dominant

They’re.. both dominant. Unless Claudia’s having a low energy day where she gives Azrael the full reins (which he loves), she’s right there tussling for control and they’re both playfully wrestling and nipping! They both get their time on top before someone gets coherent enough to flip, and the cycle continues.

where their first kiss was and what it was like

It was very cute. Like the rascals they are, they were chasing one another in the forest behind Phantomhive Manor, a fox chasing a wolf. It was Autumn, and the sun was creeping across the sky. There was a chill in the air enough to see one’s breath. Azrael caught up to Claudia and towered over her after she’d hid behind a tree, and they shared a laugh.

The Fall light was hitting her so sweetly, though. The way the orange light danced across her sapphire eyes and skin as she beamed up to him so slyly. He had to kiss her, and it stunned her entirely in the best way.

if they have any matching couples stuff ( mugs? sweaters? pillowcases? )

“If lost, return to [x]” shirts for the modern age, definitely. For a more time appropriate thing, they have matching hand mirrors that they’ve poured their hearts and soul into enchanting. It’s an imperfect enchantment, but it lets them see the other so they can check on one another throughout the day.

They’re mirrors bound with their love. When Claudia died, all other hand mirrors they’ve ever used to communicate their secret messages through shattered, but Azrael’s enchanted hand mirror, and Claudia’s, survived.

On a more casual level, they both have matching sleep shirts. Black poet styled shirts that are very big and drape on their persons so they can effortlessly wear one another’s without issue!

how into pda they are

They’ve always been a connected duo, so it’s not out of the park to see the with joined arms or holding hands. They’re constantly cuddled up, although Azrael becomes very aware of how affectionate they’re being time-to-time, only to be consoled back into comfort by Claudia.

They’re very PDA, but Azrael is sometimes wary when things like kissing begins. They oft hide behind Claudia’s fan for things like that. He’s a lot more eased into the intimate affections when Claudia’s under a glamour or heavily disguised.

who holds the umbrella when it rains

Azrael’s taller. He tends to ask for Claudia’s parasol and holds it for them both, which leads to her ribbing him gently and grinning. “Such a gent!”

where their usual ‘date spot’ is ( if applicable )

In one of their old threads, Claudia brought up an inconspicuous B&B that was in the more rural setting outside of London. Way out of the way of city limits and seeing only light traffic. I think this would be a neat “date spot” for them, as well as a safe location for exchanging information. No one can peep on them, and they both know the owners well enough to know they keep to themselves and give their guests privacy. There’s no reason for either to be nosy about Claudia&Azrael either, they’re just friendly faces who return for a spot of breakfast, lunch or dinner before heading out.

who’s more protective

You’d expect the Immortal to be more protective, but the fact of the matter is, it’s equal. Azrael is protective over Claudia, and she is the same over him. They’re both very heavily laden with grief and know great loss, something that’s a deep level of understanding with them; grief is part of their character, and that’s made them both very guarding individuals who protect the other with everything they got and a fierceness that will, and has, spilled blood.

how long it is before they sleep together ( can be as in ‘had sex’ or as in ‘shared a bed’ )

Sharing a bed is nothing unusual; platonically, they’ve taken many naps together before and one has flopped on the other when finding them in a moment of rest. They’re not stiff and awkward about it, and it flows pretty easily when they enter an intimate relationship. They are THE HUMAN KNOT.

Intimacy, however, is not something they immediately leapt into, especially when Claudia mentioned she’d never been with a man before. Although there’s certainly tension, it’s a good while before they actually do anything outside of kisses and frisky touches, which is fine with both of them. When Claudia’s ready, Azrael makes a very comfortable and romantic scene in the upstairs bedroom she’s fixed up so well for him over the years. It’s a very slow and tender first time.

if they argue about anything

They don’t argue, they have disagreements, even when those disagreements happen to be about something they’re both very passionate about and clashes with their moralities. They don’t escalate into something so careless and uncontrollable as screaming and yelling, accusations and blame. They don’t do that. Claudia’s upbringing and Azrael’s calm stance come into agreement here, and they’ve agreed-to-disagree before, and both agreed to air out the tension by spending a little time away from the other to let the feelings subside.

They’re very mature about this, which is more than can be said for a lot of relationships. Wild individuals them both, but very conscious and thoughtful ones. They’d never seek to hurt or jab at the other.

who leaves more marks ( lipstick, hickeys, scratchmarks etc. )

Claudia. Without a doubt, it’s Claudia. She loves to mark him up with hickeys and scratch marks, but seldom does anyone see anything due to his cassock riding high in collar. Sometimes, someone might see a mark, or a purple lip stain, peeking from above the white though, if they’re perceptive enough.

Also, she just loves to pelt him with kissy marks. That man oft has to clean his face from mulberry lipstick when he leaves her!

who steals whose clothes and how often

Claudia’s more curvy than Azrael (lanky boy) so his clothes don’t exactly fit proper, but that doesn’t stop her from slipping on his shirts and leaving a few buttons undone. Azzy, on the other hand, enjoys stealing a plethora of her shirts because they fit him without issue - baggy on him, if anything! They’re very cozy and he enjoys the fabric, from cotton to silk! He has more of her shirts in his dresser than she does of his.

However, they do tend to swap their coats whenever Claudia’s on Watchdog duty and wears her leather duster. His is more flowy and baggy, hers is more protective and thick, but no less stylish with a popped collar. They look really good when they swap.

how they cuddle ( spooning? facing each other? )

Absolutely mushed and tangled together, preferably laying down because Claudia can throw a spanner into the height gap that way. They’re usually face-to-face, noses nuzzled and forehead crowned together. It’s easier to smooch (and bite) this way!

what their favourite nonsexual activity is

The world can burn and fall to ruin, and they’ll be sweeping through the flames with their transcendental waltz undeterred. Dancing is, and will always remain, these two’s thing. They’ll dance through Death and they’ll dance through Spring, making Persephone & Hades proud.

If you can get them to stop for two seconds, they also enjoy traveling and seeing what the world has to offer two wicked goblins like them. Wanderlust is something they both share, or perhaps it’s something Claudia’s infected Azrael with! But they do like getting out of the country.

how long they stay mad at each other

Not long at all. They’ve had their moments of clashing before, but the anger doesn’t really last that long at all. They step away from one another to let the other have their space as I said before, to let the feelings subside since they’re both passionate individuals who do not budge at all, but.. they just don’t stay mad at one another. They’ve gone to bed before without meeting up right away due to their lives preoccupying their time, and every morning afterwards they’ve found one another’s company.

I just. cannot see them as a couple who stay mad at one another for a long time, or carry anger. Individually, they don’t strike me as the personalities that do that with loved ones, and they certainly don’t do it together. Distance makes the heart grow fonder? It makes them a little anxious, to be honest. Just a little. They get a little jittery when life circumstances keep them from coming back together after a disagreement.

Very attached couple. But of course, I could be wrong about this for Azrael! I don’t want to assume. Claudia definitely gets a little jittery for sure.

what their usual coffee / tea orders are

They’re an order you’d prefer not to mix up on the general. Claudia likes three spoonfuls of sugar with a hint of rosemary and no cream in her pine-needle tea, Azrael likes two drops of cream and no sugar. They will notice immediately and kind of swivel their heads like, “Whoa!”. One’s too sweet, and the other’s not nearly sweet or pine-y enough!

if they ever have any children together

They are a happy conjoined family with furbabies, thank you very much!

if they have any special pet names for each other

Claudia is notorious for pet names. “Mr. Callows” always remains the first affectionate term of endearment that has evolved through the years from platonic to romantic, and she never drops it when addressing him. For Azrael, it’s always a sweet french pet name woven with “wolf”. She thinks that is absolutely precious, by the way. Loves it.

However, for fun, a list of pet names she’s made for him so far

Bonekeeper

Loveweaver

Coffinweaver

Sugarpuss

Lover

if they ever split up and / or get back together

Nope.avi

what their shared living space is like ( messy? clean? what kind of decor? )

Azrael’s cottage out and away from everyone is pretty much the perfect insight to how their living style is mashed together; it’s incredibly rustic and you’d swear you walked straight into a witch’s cabin, which is only half true! Dried herbs hang around the place, acting as passive aromatics mixed with the lovely scent of pine incense, but it’s all very light as they keep the windows open to allow for a nice breeze. There’s wicker baskets filled with mushrooms, berries and other foraging goods, there’s dried & salted meat hung up in the kitchen area, and a cauldron that always seems to be bubbling with something delicious.

There’s chairs Claudia’s made for them both around the Hearth, covered with knitted blankets they’ve made with forest embroidery - foxes and wolves, cats and hounds. Baked apples or some sort of fruit lay beside the fireplace on sticks. Azrael has Lilac’s area primmed and proper here, her own cozy corner with little feather toys the couple made.

It’s clean, and it’s a cozy clutter of goods. They’re not suffocated, but it’s obvious they have treasures here and lots of stuffed shelves. Outside they have a hammock they both made from scratch. :’)

what their first christmas / hanukkah / etc as a couple was like

Azrael never really knew how to celebrate the Holiday, and never really had reason to in earlier years until Claudia pulled him along for the ride of Yule, and this was long before they were ever an item. She taught him tradition, she’s taken him hunting for the perfect Yule log, they’ve sat side-by-side making wreathes and making feasts with their own two hands in the manor, and they’ve both kept the log burning while hanging bits of evergreen around. Not to mention, the fun of decorating a pine and the tales of how they’d hang treats and food on the branches for spirits to nibble on in good favor.

However, their first Yule as a couple allowed Claudia to sneak in the cheekier tradition of Kissing Boughs. For the first time, they made little doll versions of Claudia & Azrael to hang in the middle of these boughs, and entwined mistletoe at the bottom as is tradition for making. Every berry on the mistletoe is a kiss promised, and one plucks off a berry for each kiss given. They both had to do their damnedest to not pluck off every berry right away, and it’s become one of their favorite parts of Yule. The purposefully look for mistletoe with the most berries because of this!

what their names are in each other’s phones

On Claudia’s phone: “Mr. Callows ⚰️ 🖤” / “Big Spook 👻” / “Love Goblin 1 🖤″ On Azrael’s phone: “Ma louve 🐺 💚” / “Little Spook 👻” / “Love Goblin 2 💚“

if they have any ‘couple traditions’ ( buying a new mug for their collection every year? baking every friday evening? )

The escape to Azrael’s cottage is absolutely tradition, and prized at that. Come Hell or High Water, they will have their time where they escape the life as Countess and Informant to be domestic - to live a slice of a normal life together, no matter how short-lived. That time is so precious to the both of them. Normalcy, peace, togetherness, and no one else around to tarnish their Elysium. It’s good for their critters, too. <3

who falls asleep first and who wakes up first

Claudia falls asleep first, but she’s always the first to always wake up, too. Azrael tends to sleep in and has his small wife peppering him awake with kisses and bites, leading to a grouchygami who tries to trap her in bed and snuggle. He can never win against her wake-up calls. v_v

who’s the big spoon / little spoon

It depends! They both are fans of switching. Sometimes Claudia will be found with Azrael curled up as small as can be, tucked away in her frame with his face in her neck, hugging her waist and humming delightfully as she nuzzles into the top of his crown and covers it in kisses, holding him very tight and very protectively (as she loves to do). Other times, you’ll just see Azrael curled up around something because she straight up vanishes beneath all that hair and the long overcoat LMAO. He hides his smol spook very, very well, and she does like that.

who hogs the bathroom

Claudia has to spend quite a while when it comes to fixing her hair in the morning; straightening it and then putting it in a braided bun with all those pearls takes time! Meanwhile, Azrael has a lot of hair maintenance of his own. I think they just make it work in the bathroom, no matter how crammed it is LMAO? Even if the mirror is itty bitty they just. make it work! It’s chaotic when they’re using the tiny bathroom at Azrael’s place, but they do it! With playful nudges and hip bumps, of course. Outta the way, you’re hoggin’ the mirror!

And with showers / baths, I still stick with an old way I answered this question; Without warning, Claudia hops in and joins, especially if she’s in a rush. Azrael’ll be minding his own business when OH HELLO NAKED WIFE FANCY MEETING YOU HERE.

There’s not as much hogging as there is Invasion.

who kills the spiders / takes them outside

It’s a fucking race to who gets it first. Will Azrael eat it first, or will Claudia swipe up the little eight-legged nightmare and whisk it away outside? IT ALL DEPENDS, especially when they both spot it!

#(( these are just my ideas of course! nothing is solid unless you want it to be. :'> I definitely don't want to be #dishonest with Azrael's character #but ye! here's what I got! <3 I had a blast filling this out for them #lemme know what you think! these are just my ideas. :D #sorry it took a hot minute - I like to go into super detail with these memes lol.#and it's way too easy to write about these two.. for hours kdfgk.#which I did #I love them tick. :c #I hope you like it!! ))#casketdweller #【 &ship. 】 ¦ ní féidir le haon uaigh mo chorp a choinneáil síos; fillfidh mé dó.#【 games. 】 ¦ you might even win.#【 asks. 】 ¦ what all that howlin’s for.#long post

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hearts-and-heroes · 6 years

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Sorry if this sounds weird but I'm asking for a friend who wants to participate in the hearts and heroes oc week. He's wondering what kind of items or weapons a guardian would use, (and possibly mage items if you have time to answer?) Sorry for bugging you, just wanted to be able to participate :D

Ho boy, am I glad people are asking about weapon choices. I have a whole message thread in the Discord Server about this, so here’s the rundown on all weapon and armor choices:1) Mages are not inherently a support class, as a lot of people think. In fact, Arcane Mages in particular carry out a lot of the damage in a battle. We are all aware of the fact that mages in the game use primarily staffs. However, this doesn't mean that they cannot use tomes, wands, rings, or other magic wielding item. The key is that these items need to be focused on magic processing, something that will channel magic and not be used to inflict physical attacks. Armor wise, since mages are expected to stand at a distance from the enemy, they have really light armor, enchanted cloaks and hats.2) One of the biggest misconception about Warriors is that they can only inflict physical damage. While, yes, Soldiers don't use magic, Sword Dancers rely on it a lot. This does not mean that the Sword Dancers use the same amount of magic as mages, they just use enchanted blades as an advantage in fighting. Their weapons are blades, rapiers, falchions, even spears and enchanted wood staffs, anything they can twist and turn easily while being able to conjure magic through it. Assassins on the other hand use short blades. They rely on daggers and knives, at most a gladius, to be as swift and deadly as possible. Heavy Soldiers are a hybrid class of sorts, they use the biggest and heaviest blades while still being able to move around with ease. Weapons that come to mind are short axes, broadswords, etc. Armor wise, the sneakier the subclass, the lighter the armor. Usually battle uniforms with armor plates underneath. They need to be able to move around a lot.3) And finally, the Defenders. Don't let the name fool you though - they are the biggest damage dealers out of all the classes. The name simply implies that they are the damage sponge of the team, the tank the others hide behind. Armor wise, it goes without saying that they have heavy paladin armor, picture medieval knight armor. As for weapons, their skill set is based around heavy slow blows. This means that swords and knives won't cut it. In the game, they use hammers and battle axes (note: not small one-handed axes, but big war axes). Most of the Defender weapons are two-handed, heavy, and require a lot of strength. Some of the classes use enchanted weapons, but not very often. Protectors also sometimes use spiked shield, since their primary role is taking the damage for their team.Now that I’ve given all the details, this does not mean that you are only limited to these weapons and armor. You can choose any weapon as long as it fits the guidelines I mentioned above. In fact, you can choose any weapon you want for any class. Yes, mages can have hammers too. But if you want to stick to the source material, this is it.TL;DR: Mages use staffs, tomes, wands, rings, cloaks, hatsWarriors use blades, light and short (except Heavy Soldiers), light armor Defenders use hammers, axes, heavy weapons, heavy armor So basically, hammers would be a great weapon for a Guardian. If you want to use something more defensive, there are spiked shields, or perhaps an axe. Hope you find this helpful!

-Ting

#hearts and heroes #asks #i love when people ask about classes #and weapons #burnwaffles

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illimitablespaces · 3 years

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willow, elm, dogwood, birch, olive, lavender, magnolia, periwinkle :D

Before I answer, please forgive me, friend, for not replying sooner. Life (and technology) has been such that I could not answer properly until now.

Willow: what do you find haunting, but beautiful?

This first one made me wonder: what does 'haunt' truly mean? I consulted the dictionary compiled by Dr. Samuel Johnson (his has become the source for my want of definitions these days) and this is one of the entries for 'haunt': "To frequent; to be much about any place or person."

Not far off from what we usually intend these days, but there are of course the connotations of something likened to an undesired obsession, to say nothing of the supernatural.

Whatever one may mean by the word, I shall let that alone and answer for myself.

I am sure many who have followed my bloggings here for any length of time know that I once studied music literature at university, though those days seem distant now. So, my mind is recalling a great many compositions and I am trying to find a common thread but for the sake of sanity, I have a rather mottled answer for you...

As of late, the music which has been accompanying me is varied, and I shall list some pieces for your reference and, I hope, your enjoyment.

J. S. Bach: the keyboard Partitas (BWV 825-830), particularly the slow movements (and these performed by Maria Tipo are my favorite); and a cantata, Mein Herze schwimmt im Blut--what a title!--with soloist Sabine Devieilhe

Rameau: from his final opera, Les Boréades, in Act IV, "Entrée pour les Muses, les Zéphyres, les Saisons, les Heures et les Arts," is heart-wrenchingly beautiful.

Takemitsu: I am fond of composers who utilize a softer, somewhat muted tonal architecture, and Takemitsu is one of the most brilliant of the 20th century composers in this regard. I recommend the album of his orchestral works played by the NHK Symphony Orchestra conducted by Paavo Järvi. I recently listened to this one and I am quite happy I did. I could detail much of what I love about these pieces and the album but I will leave it to you to find for yourself, if you wish.

I have been saving what I believe to be the most important of these to mention last. For some months now, I have struggled to distance myself from music as a "self-medication" so to speak. It has most certainly not been easy. I have listened and played and composed music for most of my life. I studied it at university. I have attended many concerts over the years. All this to say that music has been something of a defining point of my existence.

It is my conviction that music is a gift from the Almighty, and it's power is not to be denied or taken lightly. However, I have been made keenly aware of the fact that many people use music as a diversion away from, rather than an engagement with, the Creator. I am not in a position to administer judgment or render decrees regarding music but I am eager to limit my own involvement with music to that which is wholesome, intellectually stimulating, and spiritually gratifying. For some, I'm sure this registers as arrogance or prudishness, but I am simply attempting to look after my own spirit. My reasons for this are my own; I do not expect anyone else to care to involve themselves.

Forgive my digression.

Allow my last point here to be this--since I have been limiting my music listening to certain times, I have taken up listening to recordings of recitations of the Quran, little by little. From what I have experienced thus far, it is gratifying and moving. My knowledge of Arabic is limited in the extreme but I wish to learn. And with this, I think there is a nice segue into the next question...

Elm: what is your greatest dream in life?

Expanding from the point of my reply the to question above, my greatest dream in my life thus far is to learn to read and speak Arabic so that I may memorize the Quran. Also, I hope to perform hajj one day, insha'Allah. I know my partner's father has invited me to go but I think I want to be a bit more prepared before I decide. Or perhaps his invitation has been offered at just the right time, when I am trying my best to devote my life to being a good Muslim.

Dogwood: how do you feel about your hometown?

I admittedly do not feel a particular attachment to the town itself, though I miss the area I grew up around.

I come from a small town, not barely populated by some 500 or so people. I miss the quiet, that's for certain, compared to New York where I currently live. It seems there is no place that is truly apart from other people here, even when I would trek into the forests of Central Park.

If anything, the delights of solitude while living in a tiny town are what I miss most.

Birch: what gives you hope when you’re feeling down?

I think it best if I list several passages from the Quran, as this has been my life support for some time now.

Be not, then, faint of heart, and grieve not: for you are bound to rise high if you are [truly] believers (Surah 3:139)

Immediately following below is the 94th Surah, Al-Sharh

Have We not opened up thy heart, and lifted from thee the burden that had weighed so heavily on thy back? And [have We not] raised thee high in dignity? And, behold, with every hardship comes ease: verily, with every hardship comes ease! Hence, when thou art freed [from distress], remain steadfast, and unto thy Sustainer turn with love.

And this one is from the final verse of Surah Al-Baqara

God does not burden any human being with more than he is well able to bear

There are many, many that I could list here but if I share any more, I'm afraid I wouldn't know quite where to stop. I want to add that there are actually a fair number of books from scholars of the religion that address the issue of sadness. One is titled, "Don't Be Sad" and it offers helpful advice and Quranic references to make each point clear.

In spite of all that may trouble me, and no matter how much I have the capability to bog myself down in a mire of depression and worry, I still find that I can nourish hope and tend to it, making it grow into something positive, even if that growth is not visible to me at the time.

Olive: do you enjoy poetry? if so, what kind?

Ah! now what do I do with a question like this?

I love poetry, I recall that I always have, and I am aflutter deciding which names to mention here.

The first which comes to mind is T. S. Eliot. I have something of an affinity for Eliot, though I'm not sure precisely why. This troubles me as an artist since I feel as though I ought to fully know the inclinations of my taste and inspiration. Still, I find his poems affect me best in a way I can only describe as "probing." I might compare my reading of his work as something akin to the act of reading by candlelight--an intense yet fully measured focus when engaged, surprisingly calm when considered apart from the act itself, and always revealing more by glints rather than flashes. Perhaps this is why I find his work (poetry and other writing) so compelling.

Also Keats. He was my first poetic love, and I remember becoming enthralled over his Odes and buying my copy of his complete poems when I was in my teens. He holds a special place in my heart as being my first inspiration to committing myself seriously to the composition of poetry.

Lorca too, but I confess my Spanish is nowhere near fluent enough to fully appreciate the extent of his artistry.

There are of course many more poets I could mention here but if you are curious and have the time, a browse through the archive will reveal much more than I can summon to my memory now.

Lavender: what is your bedtime routine?

It varies, though now I spread a single day out over what is conventionally considered two days. Before I retire the day, I usually wind down with our family and take our meal together. The unusual span of two-days-as-one troubles my sleep and when I cannot find rest I will often wake up, try to do something calming, perform wudu and read from the Quran. I find this is quite helpful when a bout of insomnia strikes.

Magnolia: how do you define beauty?

I think Keats wrote most simply that which conveys the beautiful:

Beauty is truth, truth beauty,—that is all Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

If I may add, there is a distinction to be made between the Beautiful and Pretty. When I was younger, I happened upon this distinction the more I became familiar with great art, of all kinds. And I mean this in the most humble terms when I say that there is something affirming and comforting when one's convictions are later found to be confirmed by those great men and women who came before us--it wasn't until a few years ago, in my mid-twenties, when I had proofs citing the differences between these two oft-interchanged words. Beautiful is that which is instilled with Truth, and pretty is merely pleasing to one's senses, and the latter is to be understood in the general sense.

I will try to find some writings on this. There is an essay by Gore Vidal on "prettiness" but he is diverges from the point here. I shall try to return in a few days' time with writings to elucidate this subject.

I apologize for the roundabout non-answer. I suppose my aim here to is state that what is beautiful is that which is truthful, even if one finds it harsh and disturbing. For an example: just as the colorful fish of the temperate oceans which dazzle us with their vibrancy are considered by many to be beautiful, so considered must be those denizens of the crushing depths of the abyss. They are true to their nature, which makes them beautiful, even though they may not be pleasing to our senses.

Periwinkle: what makes you nostalgic

Now I am almost certain any one of my dear friends here can give an acceptable answer for this on my behalf.

I shall try to make this last reply brief, so please forgive me if I opt to use a list in the stead of detail.

Some of the following things make me nostalgic

--Certain birds and their calls/songs --Various flowers and plants --Certain pieces of music and poetry --Daydreaming almost always leads me down a path heavily laden with nostalgia --Whisps of fragrances --Reading through long-ago-dated personal correspondences --Simply living, in general, if truth be told

There are a great many things, I'm afraid, that bring about nostalgic sentiment for me. As I grow in years, I am beginning to feel a weight of what may be regret for things past. Questions intrude my reveries: what if such-and-such had happened? Does ------ ever think of me, and if yes, how do they remember me? Would things be better or worse if I had/hadn't done this or that?..

But you see, these impossibilities are a chatter that come from shaytan, and they must be dismissed as such. These thoughts are not reality, that vital common ground upon which we all must commune in order to live lives free from anxiety and sadness. This is easier to speak of than it is to put into practice. The act of distraction (and speculation on impossibilities) may feel to be a balm in the moment but once the fit passes, it leaves a cold emptiness in its wake, which may result in a pitiful freezing of the spirit or a fiery anguish in the heart. Either way, it is dangerous and infirm scaffolding to tread. Again, reality is that which is true (and here, and now), it is the framework upon which we build lasting architecture.

I speak from experience (limited as I am by three decades on this earth) and it is my hope that my analogies may be of some benefit or prove useful in some way. And if these be the nonsensical ramblings of one who lies awake too late into the night, or if they are the ravings of a lunatic who awaits the next full moon and finds respite no where else save these lunar lectures, so be it.

I wish to conclude by thanking @ant-soul for the selection of questions and patiently waiting for my reply.

#I have answered these at 4am on two separate days #forgive my delay #I hope these make some sense!

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empresskaze · 7 years

Text

In Sweet Slow Motion (Allergies, M, OC)

Wow I just found this XD Wrote it for a drabble challenge over a year ago on the forum so decided to post it here as well. It might be in my drabble thread there but I don’t remember. One few times Gabriel isn’t the victim of allergies.

~~~~

Title: In Sweet Slow Motion

Prompt: This Kiss - Faith Hill

Pairing: Liam/Gabriel

“Keep your scarf up love, last thing we need is you catching a chill.” Liam glanced quickly over at the professor who obliged tugging the sky blue garment, which matched his eyes, up around to his chin. The wind though mostly shielded by the surrounding buildings still managed to snake around them, while the pair cut through Rochester Park, rustling the nearby trees. The falling leaves crunching beneath their feet.

“Yes dear, I do wish you'd worn a warmer coat.” Gabriel eyed his partner's trademark black music hoodie as they turned the corner onto 4th Street.

Liam smiled brushing his hand across his nose, sniffing lightly. “I'm fine love, promise. Plus we're not far from home.” The couple braved the chilly autumn weather for dinner as Gabriel would be returning to Davenport in a few days. A night of delicious food, some drinks, laughter and basking in each other's company relieved some of the anxiety weighing Liam down lately. He adored autumn but that meant his quirky professor would be leaving.

Reaching his hand over Gabriel grasped the writer's palm in his own pulling him close. “Then keep me warm please.” He replied exhaling a shivery breath. “I'm flabbergasted that I haven't fallen ill yet, I'm hoping to finally break my abominable streak of luck when returning to work.” His face fell slightly as previous year memories flooded his mind.

“Gabriel Lane you'll be fine.” Liam sniffed running his hand over his nose again.

“I hope so my dear.” Hunching his shoulders, hoping to shield his grey hair from wind, Gabriel drew his coat lapels up.

Returning to the warmth of their loft, Gabriel threw his coat and scarf over the back of the chair as Liam removed a bottle of wine, a gift he'd gotten years ago from someone, probably Cordy. Uncorking it he poured two glasses handing one to his boyfriend dressed in that impeccable grey three piece suit. Liam had personally requested Gabriel wear it tonight, add the white shirt and shale colored bowtie, it had been a challenge not to simply gawk at the older man the entire night. Greying and gorgeous definitely described his boyfriend.

“Cheers, love.” Liam raised his glass clinking it against Gabriel’s who smiled before taking a drink. “Wow that's good. I'm not a wine fan but damn.”

A chuckle escaped Gabriel who nodded, “It’s quite flavorful, not insipid in the least.” He set the glass on the counter, “No more for me dear, I need to be coherent to finish packing.”

“One,” Liam started refilling his own glass, “I'm going to assume insipid means good.” A smile parted his lips hearing his boyfriend scoff. “Two, if another glass inhibits your packing then drink up.” He tilted the bottle toward Gabriel's glass who immediately drew it pack.

“Dearest.” Holding the word Gabriel forced his tone to remain light.

Liam smiled running his finger across his nose, “Joking Gabriel Lane. Just because I’m aware you're leaving d-d--ek-tnxxt...” He buried his face into the crook his arm. “Excuse me.”

Gabriel's eyes widened, “Gesundheit dear. Are you feeling well?”

Sniffling, Liam nodded. “Fine love, no need to bless me remember.”

Flushing a deep red Gabriel ran his hand through his hair. “Apologies dear I forgot, you do it so infrequently.”

“No worries love.” Liam took another sip. “You sure you don't want anymore?” He jiggled the bottle in his hand.

“I'm fine, Liam dear, please limit yourself as well.” The professor’s brow crinkled as his partner finished the glass.

“Yes love I will, it's just...this is good, tastes like spiked fruit punch. Plus a little drink eases the nerves.” Liam cocked his head winking at his boyfriend who merely shook his head.

“Understandably my dearest but...” Gabriel's speech was cut short as Liam’s head dipped back into his hoodie sleeve.

Ndhn’dx!

Hn’xdht!

Nh'xxdt!

Tsch’xnt!

Standing back up, Liam ran his fingers underneath his watering eyes. “What the hell?” Sniffing thickly he barely wiped away the tears before his brown eyes clouded again.

“Liam dear!” The concern vibrating in Gabriel's voice cracked the writer's heart.

Trying his best to form any type of reply, Liam blinked wishing his vision would clear. Feeling a soft hand grip his arm he forced a smile but knew it looked more like a grimace. “I'm fine love.”

“Don't be absurd dear you are far from fine.” The professor’s forehead creased with worry.

Shuffling past the older man Liam grabbed several tissues from the box sitting on the end table. Giving his nose a hard blow lessened some of his congestion. Another quick wipe of his eyes against his sleeve, which still streamed some tears, they felt itchy and oddly dry. Rubbing his nose with the tissues he turned back to Gabriel who now stood next to him. “See.” He sniffed again, “Nothing to worry about.”

Frowning Gabriel crossed his arms as Liam walked back into the kitchen grabbing his glass.

“What?” The younger man asked taking another drink.

“That was an allergy attack.” The professor stepped forward locking his brilliant blues with Liam's ochre.

Scoffing the writer nearly dropped the glass, reflexes slightly lowered, “Gabriel Lane don't be ridiculous!” Sniffing hard again he fought against the awful itch aggravating his eyes.

“Dearest remember who you're conversing with.” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Your eyes are red, puffy and watering. You're sneezing, sniffling and rubbing your nose, you're allergic to something.”

Rolling his burning eyes Liam turned mostly so his boyfriend wouldn't see him wipe them quickly. “Yes I am allergic to something, shellfish, which I haven't eaten.” His nose tickled but he refused to acknowledge it. “Plus I get hives, not this.”

Before Gabriel could answer, Liam dipped forward again, sneezing wetly into his hand.

Hn’xdht!

Nh'xxdt!

Tears streaming down his face he dug into his pocket for the tissues.

“For goodness sakes dear, you have a handkerchief in your back pocket.” Gabriel said.

Tissues soggy from tears and sneezing, Liam shook his head. “That's yours.”

Reaching behind his partner Gabriel plucked the handkerchief, “Now is not the time to be pertinacious, here.” Gently placing the cloth into Liam's hand, he kissed a tear from the writer's face. “Come with me.”

Looping his fingers in Gabriel's, Liam was led back to the kitchen bar stools. Scratching at his eyes the younger man sighed before blowing his nose again. “This is hell.” He sniffed then ran his hand under his eyes again. Throat screaming he took another swig of wine.

“Dearest are you sure you're not allergic to anything besides shellfish.” Gabriel ran his hands through Liam's unruly sandy blond hair clearing it from his face.

Managing a nod before his expression slacked Liam covered his running nose with the handkerchief.

Eh’tnxxt!

H'nnxsh!

Growling he scrubbed his nose cursing how the awful itchy feeling lodged in his sinuses wouldn't lessen. “Yes love, I had an allergy test as a kid after I reacted to shrimp.” Liam dug his palm into his eye desperately trying to clear his blurred vision. Suddenly a box appeared before him.

“Here.” Gabriel held out two pills. “I don't say this often but thanks to me I know we have Benadryl on hand. Swallow with water.”

Another wipe of his nose with the handkerchief Liam sighed palming the medicine downing it followed with water which put out some of the fire in his throat. Exhaling hard he set the water bottle back on the counter. “God my eyes hurt.” He muttered wiping them with the ends of the handkerchief.

“You’re quite flushed dear, I’m going to ring the clinic and...”

“No no don’t.” Liam really did not want anyone finding out about this. “Let’s see if the Benadryl works before we go bothering a doctor.”

Gabriel exhaled but did not argue only gave a very disapproving teacher look..

“If this is how you feel during allergy season...” Liam started before his voice simply trailed off, the edges of his nose had begun to sting from rubbing.

“Lovely isn’t it.” Gabriel replied softly stepping forward resting his hand on Liam’s back. “So you admit it’s allergies?”

Shrugging the writer sniffed before rubbing his nose fiercely. “You’re the expert, sorry.” He felt his boyfriend’s hand falter, “If you say it is I believe you but the bigger question is-s-s ugh-h-hh'nkk! Ugh my head is starting to hurt.” Liam leaned into Gabriel who ran circles over his back, the professor giving off all the comfort he desired. His head fell slightly before he caught it. “Sorry wine is taking effect.”

Suddenly Gabriel gasped pulling back enough Liam’s hand braced against the other stool. “Oh my stars that’s it! Oh my dear I’m sorry.” He flushed quick stepping back over to Liam who waved him off.

“What’s it, love?” The writer asked as Gabriel hurried over and grabbed his Kindle off the table.

Smiling the professor placed his glasses on his face and began typing when he returned to the counter. “While living in France, Michael and I had an acquaintance, he worked on a vineyard.”

Nodding Liam flinched at the mention of Gabriel’s ex but the older man didn’t seem to notice as he flipped pages on the tablet.

“The vineyard produced delicious wine, mostly red, however our friend, oh dear what was his name,” Looking up Gabriel stared off into space, trying to coax the name out with a wave of his hand. “Jules...Julian...goodness Gabe it was ages ago but even you should be able to remember...”

“Gabriel Lane.” Liam said tiredly jolting his boyfriend back. The blush he received nearly matched the wine remaining in the glass.

“Forgive me dear, suffice it to say he wasn’t able to partake in the actual drinking of the wine because....” The professor’s finger traced the lines of the Kindle screen momentarily. “Ah ha! Because he was allergic to it.” Smiling, Gabriel removed his glasses and turned the tablet to Liam who raised an eyebrow.

“Allergic to wine?” He sniffed hard pinching his nose quickly between his thumb and first finger. “Are you sure?” Hell or high water Liam was not sneezing again. Vision still tear stained, the screen took a moment before coming into view. The article read Wine: The Allergy You Didn’t Know You Had.

Gabriel held out the water bottle, “Unquestionably. I remember researching it given my issues but thankfully I never had any reactions. It’s quite uncommon. Here drink this, let’s work on getting it out of your system.”

Massaging his eyes Liam decided just to take Gabriel’s word for it, he was in no mood to read anything. “Perfect, no wonder my nose itched earlier. Must have started during dinner.” Another hard blow into the handkerchief only spiked the headache forming. “I feel awful.” He whined resting his head against the counter.

“Oh my dearest, let’s get you to bed.” Gabriel held out his hand for Liam who, still feeling the other effects of the wine, tripped a bit landing directly against the professor’s chest. “Oh!” The older man gasped grabbing onto his partner.

Embarrassed at his own clumsiness paired with ruining the night, Liam felt as if he and Gabriel switched roles for the evening. “Apologies dear.” He hadn't meant to blush but suddenly his face burned looking up at those magnificent blues.

“Mon amour,” Gabriel's breath caressed his neck as the professor ran a hand over his cheek. Leaning in Gabriel's lips playfully touched Liam's, “Jamais des excuses pour être vous.”

At that moment time slowed along with Liam's breathing, the only sensation Gabriel's soft lips lightly brushing his own.

Hand positioned behind his partner's neck, Gabriel pulled his beloved into a kiss smiling that he could still taste that sweet wine on his dearests lips.

END

#kaze's characters #kaze's ocs #sneeze fic #allergies #wine #hot guy speaking french #sneezing #allergy fic #kaze writes: liam and gabriel

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