#Beauty Hacks For Brides

[shaadiwish]

These Bridal Tips That Are Sure To Come Handy As You Gear Up For Wedding Season 2023

[lostinmyhell]

Not me creating a spicy page

[bruisedboys]

can I request eddie and shy!reader with reader’s first kiss?! I imagine he’d be so gentle with her!

I want him to be my first kiss so bad!! waiting for him to be real so he can kiss me tbh

summary: eddie gives shy!you your first kiss

shy!fem!reader 0.9k words

Eddie thinks you look really pretty.

He’d tell you so but he’s already told you twice tonight, and he’s pretty sure if he says it again you’ll burst into flames on the spot. You’re quite shy — it’s endearing and very adorable but it also means Eddie has to be more careful of what he says and does. He wouldn’t want to scare you off.

He watches you pore over a book, sitting cross-legged on his bed. He badly wants to tell you how lovely you look. In a t-shirt that’s too big for you and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair all messy pretty and tucked behind your ears. He holds his tongue, turning back to the old band tee he’s hacking the sleeves off on his bedroom floor.

“Eddie?”

Your voice breaks the comfortable silence you and Eddie had been sitting in. Eddie puts down his scissors and looks up. He likes the way you’ve said his name, like he’s the only person ever. He’s sure he sounds similar when he says your name. He smiles at you.

“Yeah?”

You shuffle forwards on his bed, sliding to the edge until your legs dangle off. Eddie’s struck, yet again, by how beautiful you are. It takes all the breath out of his chest.

“Um.” You pause then, and get this nervous look on your face. Eddie knows it well. You’re often nervous around him.

He sits up straighter. By the looks of it you’re wanting to tell him something. Or ask him something. “Yeah, honey?”

Your eyes flick to Eddie and then back to your hands where they’re twisted in your lap. Eddie sees the tap tap tap of your foot, the wringing of your hands. He shuffles forward on the floor and gets a hand on your knee, fingers curling around the bottom of your thigh.

“What is it?” He asks softly.

When you answer your staring at your lap, determined to avoid Eddie’s eyes.

“Well … I just. I was reading that part in The Princess Bride, the bit about the five kisses? And I just wondering …” You reach up and scrub the back of your neck awkwardly. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?”

Eddie balks. He was not expecting that. It’s a big question — for you to ask and for Eddie to answer. He has his own reasons. The biggest one being he’s afraid to scare you off, to mess up maybe the best thing in his life right now. Not only that, but he knows how tentative you are about relationship stuff. It’s all new to you.

The silence stretches too long. Eddie rushes to break it before you think he’s gone and backed out on you.

“Oh.” He says, more flustered than he’s ever been with you. Normally you’re the flustered one. He’s realising now how hard it is being on the receiving end. “Well, um. I … I guess—“

“Do you not want to?” You ask quietly, interrupting Eddie’s rambling.

Eddie stops short. “What?” He stares up at you. He can hardly believe you think that. Of course he wants to kiss you — he’d kind of thought you wouldn’t want him to. “No. No, sweetheart, that’s not it. I just. Well, I just wanted to wait until you were ready … “ He pauses, catches the look on your face, like you’re waiting for something to happen. “Are you ready?”

You bite your lip. Not for the first time, Eddie wonders what it would be like to kiss your lips. You nod very slowly.

“I think so,” you say. You’re staring at his mouth now.

Eddie nods so quick he almost snaps his neck. He hardly cares.

“Okay,” he says earnestly. He scrambles to his feet and then moves to stand in front of you, your knees pressing into his legs.

You blink up at him. Eddie can’t resist taking your face in his hands. Your skin is hot to touch. He imagines his face would feel the same.

“You’re really pretty,” he says despite himself. Even though he’d promised not to tell you again until at least tomorrow.

“Eddie,” you chide softly.

Eddie just grins. “Are you sure you want to?” He asks you, struggling to hear himself over the thump of his heart in his ears. He very much wants to give you a Princess Bride worthy kiss right now.

You nod around his hands. “I’m sure,” you say.

Eddie leans in then. His hands on your face, pulling you gently towards him. His eyelids fluttering shut. It feels different but it feels right. He’s about half a second away from kissing you when you say,

“Wait.”

Eddie opens his eyes. You’re so close he could count your eyelashes.

“What?” He whispers back.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you say. Your breath fans over Eddie’s mouth, your lips ghosting over his. It takes all his might not to kiss you right then and there. “I don’t know how,” you admit.

“That’s okay,” Eddie tells you. It is okay. And he’s maybe a lot more honoured than he should be that he’s gonna be your first kiss. “You’ll learn.”

“You’ll teach me?”

Eddie looks at you and thinks yeah, he’ll teach you. He’ll do literally anything you could ever ask of him. “Of course, angel.”

“Okay,” you say. You smile and Eddie thinks if he doesn’t kiss you now he might pass out.

He kisses you. He doesn’t pass out but he comes pretty close.

-

[herefortheships]

Do you think Dolores still likes him? he might like her a little he wears her ring so it might mean something

Personally I don't think either ever even truly liked the other to begin with. There was passion, yes, but it was all wrapped in lies.

Delores took a man she found scavenging around, who was likely struggling in life and in a very vulnerable position, and decided to prey on him to perform her ritual. As for Betelgeuse, he was approached by this gorgeous, dark, beautiful lady one night, and she mesmerized him. Of course he might have believed himself in instant love with this woman who so easily offered herself to him. I headcanon that Betelgeuse had always craved falling in love and being in love with someone (he's definitely a romantic underneath it all), and that kind of love was something he never had the opportunity in his life to have, until he met Delores.

There is a possibility that, while she was using him, he did become infatuated with the idea of her. And notice I said the "idea of her", because Betel might have only "fallen" for whoever Delores pretended to be to lure him into her trap. I honestly don't think it took too much for Delores to convince him to marry her; as I said, this man craved love, and here she was, a gorgeous woman so easily offering it to him.

At the end of the day, though, Betelgeuse was just being used and deceived, and Delores had only a little fly caught on her web (poor Betelgeuse, tbh).

That said, he never truly loved her, and I think it's clear with what the story has shown us about him and how he acts around someone he truly is in love with. Betelgeuse would have been devastated and betrayed beyond words by Delores poisoning him, if he was in love. To the point he'd have collapsed there on the spot just staring at her, no doubt. He wouldn't have reacted by hacking her into bits. The reason I can conclude that is by comparing his behavior toward Delores with his behavior towards Lydia in a moment of betrayal.

Consider how he didn't become vengeful of Lydia when she didn't marry him the first time, and completely allowed her to banish him this second time around (please he tried nothing to stop her saying his name), and didn't force her into anything; he looked betrayed and sad, more than just angry, and he didn't do anything to harm her as she sent him away (even cracked a joke before going poof back to the Netherworld). I make this comparison because this movie made it very clear that Betelgeuse truly is in love with Lydia.

As for Delores, in the afterlife she does appear to be desiring Betelgeuse romantically (the way she behaves and calls him her beloved, was jealous of Lydia, etc), whilst still being after him for revenge. He did take her immortality away from her that night when he didn't allow her to finish the ritual. I always say she "fucked around and found out", with Betelgeuse. He hacked her into pieces and she never got to complete her ritual, so her soul is stuck in that mode; her drive as a spirit is to get Betelgeuse and finish what she started. Is there love underneath that? I don't think so. Maybe some dark, possessive desire of the "only I can have your soul" kind. But not love.

Whatever romantic inclination she has towards him might come from a ghostly attachment she might have around the events of her death; she died on her wedding night, so she's stuck as Betelgeuse's dead bride as a spirit. But does she have true romantic love toward him? I don't think so.

Betelgeuse clearly wants nothing to do with Delores. As for the ring on his finger, I have a theory about that which I wrote about in this post. To summarize it, he might just be bound to the ring as his ghostly attachment, due to having died a cruel death on his wedding night; it might be the symbol of his curse. Read the post if you want to know the long version.

I hope this answers the question and I'm sorry I took so long to answer! There are many questions still in my inbox so it's taking me a little time but I will get through all of them, promise. 💙

[localplaguenurse]

Falling Head over Heels (Pantalone x Male Reader) pt 8

WE ARE FUCKING BACK! (I immediately started hacking my lungs after typing this, I'm sick :P)

To make a long story short, for the past few months I've either been really busy, really depressed, and usually both. Also for some reason chapter 8 was already hard to write and I don't know why.

ALSO before we get into the fic, @your-local-furby drew some absolutely lovely fanart of MC apologizing and seeing the library from the previous two chapters. I think it finally kicked my brain back into gear lmao.

Without further ado, please enjoy!

@thedeimoshimself @eli-chris

It feels like the ground beneath me is sucking me in.

I feel myself sinking,

I wish the ground would swallow me whole.

Embarrassment washes over me and swallows me whole. I feel the air leave my chest I want to break free but I feel like I’m drowning. 

You take the page you’re scribbling your notes on and crumple it into a ball. You’ve reread your rough draft and decided the arranged wedding scene you had planned wasn’t tragic enough. The blind musician is tasked with performing for the prince’s wedding, but his heartbreak causes him to mess up his performance, which causes everyone to notice he’s crying, including the prince. You’re trying to convey the feeling of knowing every single person in the room is watching you during the lowest point in your life, but it’s just not coming together in a way you like. You’ll run it by Alik later.

Technically, Alik is no longer your editor as a result of your deal with the Yae Publishing House. Still, they’re one of your few friends, and their workload has lightened since your previous publisher terminated all of those other book deals. Now they’re acting as your beta reader before you send off the next draft to the editor at the Yae Publishing House. It’s actually making progress go a lot faster, so much so you might only need one final draft of the whole story before it’s finally published, as opposed to multiple drafts. 

I do not need sight to know everyone in the room is looking at me. I feel it in my broken notes that trail into nothingness. I feel it in the resulting silence. I feel it in the quiet murmur spreading through the room.

I feel tears in my eyes as I drop my head down, praying no one sees me crying. If I could, I would sprint out of the room, out of the palace, so no one is witness to my heartbroken embarrassment. I’d run so fast, the prince would have no time to chase after me. It would be for the best anyways. He deserves his perfect and beautiful bride, and I am no bride, I cannot verify if I am beautiful, and in this moment, I could not feel anymore flawed as a person and human. 

A knock on your door breaks your concentration. You’re dreading whatever is on the other side, but know it’s better to get this over with. 

“Yes?”

The door opens, and your mother pokes her head in through the gap. She offers a smile. “We have company. Come say hi, please.”

“I’m… kind of in the middle of something,” you reply, “and I’ve told you that I’m going to see Alik when I’m done writing.”

“How is she, by the way?”

“They’re fine.”

“And Maria? How’s she?”

“She’s alright, I think. I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“Well, tell them both I say hello. Anyways, if you have a minute, I would like you to come downstairs. There’s someone I’d like you to talk to.”

It takes you a moment to recognize what this is, mostly because it’s been a while since she tried pulling this off. When you realize what’s happening, you just shake your head and look at your mother. “Which family friend is this?”

She gives you a very unconvincing look of confusion. “My dear, what do you mean?”

“Mother, please.”

“... Ana. Anastasia.”

Anastasia is your younger sister Adéla’s friend. Much like your sister, she’s only a year younger than you, but unlike your sister, she actually likes you. Adéla and you have butted heads throughout your lives, as siblings tend to do and especially with such a small age gap, but Adéla has taken it a step further saying that it’s your fault her childhood was so “miserable” as she puts it. She claims that your diagnosis made you the centre of your parents’ attention until your youngest sister was born, and then they focused more on her than Adéla. Conveniently, she’s never had any sisterly drama with her, only you. You feel for her, but there was only so much you could do at the time, seeing as you were eight years old.

“Absolutely not,” you tell your mother.

“But you two got along so well when she would visit,” your mother insists, “and she’s become a fine young lady since the two of you last spoke! Don’t you remember reading together when you two were little?”

“I’m sure she’s beautiful,” you say, “but Adéla will throw a fit if she finds out you set me up with one of her friends.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to find out,” you tell her, “and I told you I don’t like being set up on dates.”

Your mother lets out an exasperated sigh. “I’m just worried about you, okay? I want to make sure my son is happy, healthy, and I want him to find someone he can settle down with. Your brother was already married at your age, and Adéla’s going to be having another baby soon.”

“Yes, but I’m not Pavel or Adéla,” you say, “the dating scene is different for me, and playing matchmaker isn’t going to make me feel any better or help me.”

Your mother just looks at you. That sad, pitiful look you know all too well. It stopped pulling on your heartstrings long ago, but sometimes it’s just easier to indulge her than it is to fight her on it. Besides, she means well, you think, it just can’t be helped that she doesn’t know her son has no interest in women.

You sigh, and stand up, much to your mother’s delight. “I’ll say hi, and that’s it.”

She grins, and she motions for you to follow her.

----

“... and she just happens to be single, too.”

Alik sets their glass down. “Interesting. So when’s the wedding?”

“It’s not happening,” you reply, “thank the Tsaritsa for that.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents haven’t put you in an arranged marriage yet,” Alik comments.

“How many viable marriage candidates do you think there are that would be thrilled to marry someone who’s not only going blind, but could pass it on to their children as well?”

“Depends on how much the family is getting paid.”

“And it would not be much.”

The tavern is surprisingly quiet tonight. You chalk it up to it being the middle of the work week, not as many patrons willing to get drunk if they have work early in the morning. Currently, you and Alik are sitting at a table in the corner of the room while a few older patrons mill about, chattering on about their own lives at the bar. It’s actually rather nice, you think.

“What would they try to sell your bride to be on?” Alik asks.

“Um…” You look into your half drunk glass, trying to think of something funny. You clear your throat, straighten your posture, and put on your best business smile. “Here’s a fine young man who has no real work skills, and it’s not like they would do him any good since he’s considered legally blind and has between thirteen and fifteen years before he is fully blind. His only profitable skill is writing, though he doesn’t make enough to support a household. His blindness is also genetic!”

“By the Archons, at least say one nice thing about yourself,” Alik teases, though there’s a subtle sincerity to their words.

“I think I’m decent,” you say, “I think I might even make an okay husband, but I don’t think I’d be the kind of husband Pavel or my father are.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Alik replies, “there are plenty of families and couples where the husband isn’t always a provider. Besides, you’re not really a ladies man to begin with.”

You shake your head. “It’s not even that, it’s just… you know I try not to make a big deal of me going blind, but it’d be naïve of me to pretend that it’s not, and especially if I was in a relationship. Whether I like it or not, whoever I marry is going to inevitably become my caretaker. There will come a day where I’m going to need help, and I’ll rarely be able to return that favour.”

“That’s why it’s in sickness and in health,” Alik comments. They reach across the table and take your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d make a good house husband, before and after you start seeing the world how Maria does.”

Maria is Alik’s cousin, and one of your few very close friends. She has been a big help to you in writing your book as her blindness is similar to the main character’s. While he was born blind, she actually had vision when she was born. Unfortunately, she suffered a very severe head injury when she was very young. She has little to no memory of her life before she lost her sight as a result, as well as having some developmental problems growing up. These days she’s doing much better, though her eyesight is still gone. At most, she can detect if there’s light, but that’s the extent of it. 

“Do you have permission to make jokes about her being blind?” you ask.

“I not only have permission, but that’s not even the worst joke I’ve gotten away with.”

“I don’t want to know.”

“For the best.”

Your table goes quiet as you and Alik take a moment to drink. You try not to cringe at the taste of whatever the hell Alik recommended you try. It’s a beer, and you can taste that, but it’s a lot more bitter than you like. Still, they bought it for you, it would be rude to spit it out.

“You don’t have to drink that, you know.”

“It’s an acquired taste, I’ll get used to it.”

You see a smile twitch onto Alik’s lips, and even if they try to hide it, you can see a shit eating grin from miles away. 

“Okay,” you say, “out with it.”

“What do you mean?”

“You thought of something terrible, I want to hear it.”

Alik glances around the room, assessing how audible their comment would be. You take a sip of your drink, and they grin.

They lean in. “I’m sure Pantalone would be happy to hear that.”

You immediately sputter, spraying Alik in the face. They yell, swiping at their face as if they were sprayed with acid. You cough as what was left in your mouth goes down the wrong pipe. “Fuck, w-why’d I take a drink–”

“Did you have to spit that in my face?” Alik asks.

“Shut up,” you wheeze out. You give one more hearty cough, your throat and chest burning, and you can breathe again. You sit up, rubbing your chest through your shirt while Alik wipes their face and the table with napkins. You look around, and see the few patrons staring at your table. You painfully chuckle, and turn back to your friend. “S-Sorry, I should know better by now.”

Alik shrugs. “I’m not wrong, am I?”

“I told you that in confidence,” you whisper.

“You actually told me before the tea party,” Alik tells you. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s starting to show in your book.”

You feel your face flush, and you narrow your eyes. “I think I would know if I was writing about him, thank you.”

“The prince was a lot more arrogant in your first drafts,” Alik explains, “but in more recent iterations, it’s been toned down a lot. He’s also a lot more understanding of the musician’s blindness.”

You’re confused. “Well, yes. My first drafts are years old, so I’ve had to make some adjustments to better fit my writing style now. Besides, I’ve read too many stories about asshole love interests that don’t really learn anything, they just get tragic backstories that authors think justify their shitty behaviour. I’m not adding my characters to that pile.”

“No, I agree on that,” Alik says, “but even then, he was still a solid character, arrogance aside. He was just a spoiled prince who had to actually think about other people for the first time in his life. Like he’s never had to deal with someone with a disability, and doesn’t know how else to feel other than annoyed. In the more recent drafts, he still doesn’t know how to deal with it, but he’s a lot more willing to make up for the disrespect, where the old version did it, but complained the whole time. It just so happens that this change happened right when you met him for the first time.”

“That’s… hm.” You take a sip and don’t spit it in Alik’s face. “You’re on the right track, but I don’t think I was writing all of that because of a crush.” You feel your face flush warmer again. “He was a bit of an ass at the party, but since then he’s become one of…” You take a moment to count names on your finger. “... six or seven people that aren’t patronizing about me going blind. I’d just been putting up with most of my family either coddling me or being inconvenienced by me, but he’s a rare instance of someone making accommodations, but not making a big show of it. That’s why the book was like that until I met Pantalone.”

You stare into your glass. “And… a-and it’s why I enjoy his company so much…”

Alik doesn’t say anything. You look up, and you see their expression has softened a little bit. They lift their drink up to you, and you smile and lift yours up.

“Cheers.”

You both take a swig, and somehow the disgusting drink tastes sweeter going down. Your face feels warm, and you wonder why you’re still blushing when you see you’re already halfway through your drink. Alik has a similar glow in their cheeks. 

“That’s really sweet and cute,” Alik says, “but I do have to ask you something.”

You feel whatever warm feelings you’re feeling lessen when Alik’s softened expression gains a hint of concern. Their smile looks awkward by comparison, before they sigh and lose it altogether. You’re already dreading what they’re about to say.

They hesitate for a moment, and when they speak, it’s in a whisper. “Do you like him, or do you like what he’s done for you?”

“W-What?”

“I wouldn’t ask that if we were talking about anyone else,” Alik clarifies, “but I have to ask when it’s him. I don’t want to rain on your parade, I’m happy you like someone, but… he’s a harbinger. One of the more likeable ones, but not without flaws.”

“I know…”

Alik sighs. “Look, if it were some other handsome rich man, I’d say go for it. The fact it’s a harbinger specifically makes me a little worried, I won’t lie.”

You sound like my mother. “It’s a crush, not an engagement,” you tell them. “We enjoy each other’s company while he works with my father and sister. I just enjoy it differently than he does.”

“Still, even as friends, I’d be cautious. If not for what he’d have planned, then for what others might have in store for him.”

You take a swig. “You want to know what’s funny? You’re the first person to bring up his enemies as a point for why I shouldn’t get near him.”

“I am not.”

“No, seriously. My mother doesn’t want me near him because he’ll probably, I don’t know, kill me or sell me or steal my ideas, depends on the day. My father thinks I’ll ruin everything those two have built together, which I still don’t know why Pantalone is working with him.”

“Maybe your dad’s indebted to him or something.”

“...”

Alik notices your silence. They say your name in a soft voice, seeming worried by your expression. Your father’s not in debt, is he? The business isn’t as prosperous as it was when you were little, but job markets change all the time, and the economy is ever fluctuating. It’s purely the result of what happens when a business runs for as long as it does. Sometimes an empire doesn’t crumble, but rather dies slowly.

“Hey, are you okay?”

You snap out of it. “I’m, uh, I’m fine.” You push your seat back and stand. “I’m just, um, I’m going to go to the washroom for a second.”

“... Okay? Just watch yourself.”

“I’ll be fine,” you call out over your shoulder before immediately bumping into someone. Unlike with Pantalone, you actually manage to catch yourself before you fall. You know that Alik is holding their head in their hands, possibly stifling laughter too for a little extra salt in the wound.

“Archons, sorry,” you immediately blurt out, “I didn’t see you there.”

The ginger haired man laughs. “Oh, no worries comrade! Just be more careful next time!”

You stare at the man, eyes widening. His smile grows, almost reaching the dull blue of his eyes.

“Why the surprised face?” he asks jovially.

You sigh and shake your head. “I have got to stop meeting harbingers like this.”

[helloanthy]

🗒️ 24.04.2024 ⋅⋅⋅ 🥀

some notes for 20.09.2023 post and a separate cut out for utena because i spent a very long time rendering her ... the original concept i had in my head for this art was very different. it was just supposed to be a style study of this an official anime prop design art, and i'd thought to draw anthy in a similar pose across from her like in the shown version, but with her wearing her prince outfit from the manga. something something another form of female competition under the patriarchyyy stop pitting 2 girlprinces against each other omg etc (side note, how sick would it have been in an AU where akio made anthy fight against utena in the ring? like i dont think it would hav added more to the story or made it better really ... probably would've diluted the message to be honest ... but everytime i see that manga art of prince anthy i imagine some convoluted black rose arc AU where utenas dodging anthy getting her hair hacked off left and right like himemiyaaa nooo snap out of it this isnt uuu while anthys silent and dead eyed hahaha) but then after i drew prince anthy, the picture looked rather empty ... so i thought to add a few decals or borders in the style of the show & official arts but aaahh ... there was still too much negative space. i had to scrap anthy's prince outfit and put her back in her rose bride dress 😭 man !!! he cant keep getting away this !!! [blames akio the figurehead of patriarchy instead of taking responsibility of my own actions] which made me sad because i was pretty satisfied with the way i drew her pose and legs ! but i had to cover it up 🥲 ... the composition overall looked better though. and then after that it kept spiraling. i just kept adding more and more things until i lost control of this drawing and it plagued my WIP folder for months ... i dont want to try and connect all of it in words so ill just lay out all the pieces for you so you can connect them yourself. and you can experience my art thought process in fraction of erraticity and frustration as i experience it myself. this is a lot neater than what happened in my head though because i bothered to put it in order. honestly if i can make you feel a little bit insane trying to scroll through and read all this than i can make you understand how annoying my brain is when all i wanted to draw was utenanthy girlprinces fighting starting references & inspiration: utena prop reference sheet & manga prince!anthy

the tower & the lovers tarot

above: the lovers as depicted in the tarot of marseilles deck, tarocco bolognese deck, & tarocco piemontese deck the lovers (tarot card) wikipedia: The Lovers is associated with the star sign Gemini, and indeed is also known as The Twins in some decks. Other associations are with Air, Mercury, and the Hebrew letter ז (Zayin). In the Rider Waite deck, the imagery for this card is changed significantly from the traditional depiction. Instead of a couple receiving a blessing from a noble or cleric, the Rider–Waite deck depicts Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden.

a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.6: UPRIGHT: Attraction, love, beauty, trials overcome REVERSED: Failure, foolish designs. Another account speaks of marriage frustrated and contrarieties of all kinds a.e. waite, the pictorial key to tarot, part II, VI. the lovers: In the foreground are two human figures, male and female, unveiled before each other, as if Adam and Eve when they first occupied the paradise of the earthly body. Behind the man is the Tree of Life, bearing twelve fruits, and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil is behind the woman; the serpent is twining round it. The figures suggest youth, virginity, innocence and love before it is contaminated by gross material desire. This is in all simplicity the card of human love, here exhibited as part of the way, the truth and the life. It replaces, by recourse to first principles, the old card of marriage, which I have described previously, and the later follies which depicted man between vice and virtue. In a very high sense, the card is a mystery of the Covenant and Sabbath. The suggestion in respect of the woman is that she signifies that attraction towards the sensitive life which carries within it the idea of the Fall of Man, but she is rather the working of a Secret Law of Providence than a willing and conscious temptress. It is through her imputed lapse that man shall arise ultimately, and only by her can he complete himself. The card is therefore in its way another intimation concerning the great mystery of womanhood. going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the lovers: UPRIGHT: Love, harmony, relationships, values alignment, choices REVERSED: Self-love, disharmony, imbalance, misalignment of values In its purest form, The Lovers card represents conscious connections and meaningful relationships. The arrival of this card in a Tarot reading shows that you have a beautiful, soul-honoring connection with a loved one. [...] The Lovers is a card of open communication and raw honesty. Given that the man and woman are naked, they are both willing to be in their most vulnerable states and have learned to open their hearts to one another and share their truest feelings. [...] On a more personal level, The Lovers card represents getting clear about your values and beliefs. You are figuring out what you stand for and your philosophy. Having gone through the indoctrination of The Hierophant, you are now ready to establish your belief system and decide what is and what is not essential to you. It’s time to go into the big wide world and make choices for yourself, staying true to who you are and being authentic and genuine in all your endeavors. At its heart, The Lovers is about choice. The choice about who you want to be in this lifetime, how you connect with others and on what level, and about what you will and won’t stand for. To make good choices, you need to be clear about your personal beliefs and values – and stay true to them. Not all decisions will be easy either. The Lovers card is often a sign that you are facing a moral dilemma and must consider all consequences before acting. Your values system is being challenged, and you are being called to take the higher path, even if it is difficult. Do not carry out a decision based on fear or worry or guilt or shame. Now, more than ever, you must choose love – love for yourself, love for others and love for the Universe. Choose the best version of yourself. Finally, The Lovers card encourages you to unify dual forces. You can bring together two parts that are seemingly in opposition to one another and create something that is ‘whole’, unified and harmonious. In every choice, there is an equal amount of advantage and disadvantage, opportunity and challenge, positive and negative. When you accept these dualities, you build the unity from which love flows.

the tower (tarot card) wikipedia: The Tower is widely associated to danger, crisis, sudden change, destruction, higher learning, and liberation. In the Rider–Waite deck, the top of The Tower is a crown, which symbolizes materialistic thought being bought cheap, downcast. a.e. waite, the pictorial key to the tarot, part III, section 3, no.16: UPRIGHT: Misery, distress, indigence, adversity, calamity, disgrace, deception, ruin. It is a card in particular of unforeseen catastrophe REVERSED: According to one account, the same in a lesser degree also oppression, imprisonment, tyranny (the wikipedia included a.e. waite's upright meanings, but i have no idea where they got the reversed meanings) going off of the rider-waite tarot deck: the pictorial key to the tarot—biddytarot's interpretation of the tower: UPRIGHT: Sudden change, upheaval, chaos, revelation, awakening REVERSED: Personal transformation, fear of change, averting disaster The Tower shows a tall tower perched on the top of a rocky mountain. Lightning strikes set the building alight, and two people leap from the windows, head first and arms outstretched. It is a scene of chaos and destruction. The Tower itself is a solid structure, but because it has been built on shaky foundations, it only takes one bolt of lightning to bring it down. It represents ambitions and goals made on false premises. The lightning represents a sudden surge of energy and insight that leads to a break-through or revelation. It enters via the top of the building and knocks off the crown, symbolizing energy flowing down from the Universe, through the crown chakra. The people are desperate to escape from the burning building, not knowing what awaits them as they fall. [...] The best way forward is to let this structure self-destruct so you can re-build and re-focus. [...] with a card like The Tower, you have no choice but to surrender to the destruction and chaos, no matter how unwanted or painful [...] After a Tower experience, you will grow stronger, wiser and more resilient as you develop a new perspective on life you did not even know existed. 

infant stars taken by NASA hubble used in the background overlay of akio's tower star birth | cool cosmos: Stars form from the simplest of building blocks - huge clouds of gas and dust that permeate the Galaxy. [...] While these big clouds of dust and gas lay dormant for many millions and perhaps billions of years, eventually some of them are disturbed. This can happen gradually, maybe caused by the approach of one of the Milky Way's spiral arms as it slowly sweeps around the center of the galaxy, or it can be a sudden event, like a nearby supernova explosion that blasts a shockwave through the cloud. Either way, a small increase in the pressure and density of the cloud forms knots in the gas and dust that eventually collapse under their own gravity, pulling more and more of the surrounding material in, and forming the stellar "seeds" known as protostars. From Protostar to Star: As the clouds collapse, they start to rotate, and, like a spinning skater pulling in her arms, each of these seed protostars begins to spin faster the more it collapses. The material falling towards the protostar flattens out into a rotating disk of dust and gas encircling the central core. The protostar warms up, as the potential energy of the material falling in is converted into kinetic energy, but it has not yet ignited to form a fully-fledged star. For the next few million years, the protostar's gravity pulls in more material from the surrounding cloud into its disk. That disk transports the gas and dust onto the protostar, causing the protostar to grow. The increase in mass causes the gravitational field of the protostar to increase and so even more material is pulled into the disk. The addition of more material, in turn, increases the gravitational field even further, pulling in more material, and so on, creating a feedback loop that keeps the whole process going. [...] The density and temperature of the protostar keep climbing higher and higher, until eventually the core grows to about one tenth the size of our Sun, and becomes hot and dense enough for hydrogen nuclei to spontaneously stick together to form helium, in a process called nuclear fusion. At that instant, the core ignites, and the new star is born. Meanwhile, in the disk, clumps of material have been forming, which are the seeds of new planets. These seeds sweep up material in the disk in a process called accretion, forming the planets of a new solar system. Once the star has started nuclear fusion, the heat and wind from the infant star begin to blast the gas and dust away, creating a cavity in the cloud. As more and more matter gets funneled onto the star from the disk, the star gets larger and larger, causing it to push harder and harder against the cloud and the disk, enlarging the cavity, vaporizing the disk, and halting the growth of planets.

deadheading (flowers) wikipedia: Deadheading is the horticultural practice of removing spent flowers from ornamental plants. Deadheading is a widespread form of pruning, since fading flowers are not as appealing and direct a lot of energy into seed development if pollinated. The goal of deadheading is thus to preserve the attractiveness of the plants in beds, borders, containers and hanging baskets, as well as to encourage further blooming. Deadheading flowers with many petals, such as roses, peonies, and camellias prevents them from littering.

[...] Ornamental plants that do not require deadheading are those that do not produce a lot of seed or tend to deadhead themselves [...] if the plant bears attractive seeds or fruits, deadheading is normally avoided

ladybird, ladybug, lady beetle: scientific name "coccinellidae" wikipedia: Etymology: [...] The common English name ladybird originated in Britain where the insects became known as "Our Lady's birds". Mary ("Our Lady") was often depicted wearing a red cloak in early art, and the seven spots of the species Coccinella septempunctata (the most common in Europe) were said to represent her seven joys and seven sorrows. Trophic Roles: Coccinellids act both as predators, prey and parasitic hosts in food webs. The majority of coccinellids are carnivorous and predatory. [...] Cannibalism has been recorded in several species; which includes larvae eating eggs or other larvae, and adults feeding on individuals of any life stage.

Defense: The bright warning colouration of many coccinellids discourage potential predators, warning of their toxicity [...] Species with more contrast with the background environment tended to be more toxic. Coccinellid haemolymph (blood) contains toxic alkaloids, azamacrolides and polyamines, as well as foul-smelling pyrazines. Coccinellids can produce at least 50 types of alkaloids. When disturbed, ladybirds further defend themselves with reflex bleeding, exuding drops from their tibio-femoral (knee) joints, effectively presenting predators with a sample of their toxic and bitter body fluid.

despite said being named after the lady virgin mary they are known to be promiscuous breeders, who's habits have been documented to result in epidemics of sexually transmitted infection in large populations, subject to various academic studies

lyric from lady oscar's theme song "the rose perishes beautifully"

ok there was more but its been like 8 hours it turns out trying to put my thoughts into words even if its just a bunch of copy pasting is even more annoying than just thinking them im ending this post 😭

[universallydestinytaco]

*CRACKS KNUCKLES*

Charpim Prompts, Baby! Tag me if using any of these because I’m bored and I love raising hell in this fandom!! Thanks ✨

CW: All prompts on this post skirt the line between genuine prompts and just me shitposting again.

EDIT: Not to be a buzzkill but I almost forgot: Please don't make straight-up NSFW smut of my prompts, I know SF is an adult cartoon but that stuff makes me uncomfortable. Thank You.

Charlie and Pim go to a bar + Pim gets drunk and becomes the life of the party and Charlie pisses off a gang of bikers = all hell breaks loose The boys go rollerblading + it’s before they confessed to each other.

Charlie takes Pim to go camping in the woods and raccoons steal their stuff. Vampire!Charlie x Witch!Pim facing off against monster hunters and protecting each other. (inspired by @bluebellcup)

The boys lightheartedly bicker about which show they wanna watch on Meepflix during date night.

Pim baking Charlie something sweet and Charlie returns the favor by making something for him.

The beautiful bride (Pim) and the skrunkly-ass groom (Charlie)

Pim finds out about what happened to Charlie in the Gwimbly episode and pulls an elaborate prank on James that leads to the nasty bastard getting publicly humiliated much to Charlie’s delight.

Charlie is embarrassed to admit to liking girly stuff and Pim, a bonafide femboy, helps him embrace it as the boys doll each other up for a day.

The boys working for Anonymous to hack Twitter’s rotting remains aka X by having it so that the boring white backgrounds are replaced with crude doodles mocking Elon Musk.

Charlie and Pim as astronauts and they share a ship together for 3 months. They become the first Critters on the moon!!

They’re in a rock band, with Pim as the lead singer and Charlie on the guitar.

Maid!Charlie is Princess!Pim’s lady in waiting and he trains to become a knight to challenge that chauvinist pig Knight!James to a duel to show him who’s who!

They’re robots in a gritty cyberpunk setting reigned by Grim and Gnarly because they’re literal edgelords.

[marta-bee]

Continuing on with Aldarion & Erendis, they're finally getting married and an elven-ship turned up for the big day.

The ship was laden with flowers for the adornment of the feast, so that all that sat there, when evening was come, were crowned with elanor and sweet lissuin whose fragrance brings heart's ease. Minstrels they brought also, singers who remembered songs of: Elves and Men in the days of Nargothrond and Gondolin long ago; and many of the Eldar high and fair were seated among Men at the tables. But the people of Andúnië, looking upon the blissful company, said that none were more fair than Erendis; and they said that her eyes were as bright as were the eyes of Morwen Eledhwen of old," or even as those of Avallónë.

The Morwen comparisons are not... wholly posiitve, let's say. Few things connected with Hurin and Turin are in the long term. I'm also not loving how much focus is on Erendis (or Morwen, for that matter!) being beautiful, when she's been wise, courageous, faithful, all that. She's really been a lady of substance and more than just a pretty face. But I get it: beautiful bride, beautiful day, all love and light. It's actually quite sweet.

To Aldarion they gave a sapling tree, whose bark was snow-white, and its stem straight, strong and pliant as it were of steel; but it was not yet in leaf. "I thank you," said Aldarion to the Elves. "The wood of such a tree must be precious indeed." "Maybe; we know not," said they. "None has ever been hewn. It bears cool leaves in summer, and flowers in winter. It is for this that we prize it."

Aldarion: What wonderful trees! I can't wait to hack it down and turn it into ships.

Honey. Baby. No....

As for Erendis:

To Erendis they gave a pair of birds, grey, with golden beaks and feet. They sang sweetly one to another with many cadences never repeated through a long thrill of song; but if one were separated from the other, at once they flew together, and they would not sing apart. "How shall I keep them?" said Erendis. "Let them fly and be free," answered the Eldar. "For we have spoken to them and named you; and they will stay wher¬ever you dwell. They mate for their life, and that is long. Maybe there will be many such birds to sing in the gardens of your children."

See what I'm saying? Not just a pretty face. That's my girl.

[captain-mj]

Vampire Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Graves kills someone confirmed??

Price’s wedding was set to take place at a beautiful place. A farm owned by an old friend, The Baron. It was full of different plants with most in full bloom. 

Especially wolfsbane. 

Alex and Farah started to hack and cough almost immediately. Laswell’s eyes welled up and she clearly struggled, but she managed to compose herself just a tiny bit better.

Gaz worried over Alex and tried to get him to stay sitting down in the farmhouse. There were a few bouquets of wolfsbane around that Gaz and Malika made quick work to get rid of the bundles near the two of them but it didn’t help much. 

Price came out, looking rather dashing in his blue suit. Soap was a little surprised by how plain it was with no intricate details or lace or pompous collars that he had come to expect from most vampires. But he looked happy, smiling radiantly. 

Laswell swallowed thickly and stood up. “John, there’s a lot of wolfsbane.” She sounded very polite, clearly not trying to argue or ruin his wedding. 

“Clara wanted it there.” He continued to smile. 

“We’re allergic. We may have to leave early.”

Price visibly deflated. “Please just stay for the ceremony, I need you here, Kate.” He grabbed her hands, looking earnest. 

Laswell sighed. “If they need to leave, they will. But I’ll tough it out for you, old friend.”

Price hugged her tight and pulled back. “Thank you, darling. And where is your wife this evening?”

“She had a few final touches to make to the cake. But she’ll be here.” Laswell started to cough and had to sit down. Soap pretended he didn’t see the blood splattered between her fingers. 

It was cruel, to put wolfsbane everywhere. He didn’t understand how neither the bride nor groom though that may be a bad idea considering the amount of werewolves in attendance. 

Ghost got Soap’s attention and gave him a bundle of masks. Soap smiled at him and Ghost glanced away. He gave the werewolves the masks, thinking they looked rather odd in the skull insignia. Farah had her head in her girlfriend’s lap, clearly trying to breathe again. 

Alejandro and Rodolfo also silently cleared out the rest of the wolfsbane. It ruined the look of the wedding, but Price barely seemed to notice and if Clara had an issue, she could take it up with Soap. 

And then Ghost when inevitably she tried to curse Soap. 

Speaking of curses, he glanced at Chuy who was in the back, still cradling Reyes. He gave him more food and continued to pet him. Chuy never set him down if it could be helped. Always worried he’d run off and disappear somewhere. He hadn’t been sleeping much until Soap had the great idea to get him a rat cage. Despite how much it hurt his wallet, he made sure it had all the bells and whistles for him. Chuy had finally gotten some sleep. 

Soap knew he wasn’t a vampire. Alex and Farah thinking he was a werewolf confirmed it for him. Chuy had never called himself anything. 

Well, anything other than Enzo’s.

He watched the way he lovingly stroked Reyes. Eyes full of tears and anguish so thick it hurt to look at. They had not been able to contact any local witches, though apparently Koenig may know one named Horangi. 

When Soap had pointed out Horangi just meant Tiger, Ghost countered that Koenig just meant King so how was it any different. Soap didn’t speak up again. 

Koenig could not make it to the wedding but would hopefully be at the house the next day with the witch in tow to fix Reyes. Hopefully. For Chuy’s sake at least. He was back in his cowboy outfit and hadn’t budged.

“Johnny.” Ghost beckoned and he quickly sat by him. He was a little surprised there was no best man or anything, but apparently vampires just didn’t really do that. Or, at least, the culture that Ghost and Price were from didn’t. All they needed was one person as witness. 

Ghost served as the witness, which meant he just needed to watch it. Soap sat next to him, ready to jump up and get anything Ghost needed. His hand ended up on the back of Soap’s neck, just holding gently. “Relax. Enjoy the wedding.”

“It’s a bit hard when the werewolves are in such pain.” He glanced over. The masks seemed to help some, but Gaz was clearly angry about the entire situation. Every time Price would smile or wander around the reception room, Gaz would glare, eyes cutting into him so hard that Soap started to feel sick from it. Gaz gave off a harsh aura, similar to how Soap felt when he was feeding off of him. It was awful, but Price seemed blissfully aware. He was starting to wonder if Alejandro was right about Price no longer being all there. If maybe at one point, he was the man Ghost and Rodolfo saw him as. 

But watching the werewolves he agreed, almost insisted, to invite suffering and that he married so quickly and that he let his fiance hurt Chuy so deeply and how even now, he seemed naive to how uncomfortable Ghost right now, it was hard for Soap to find the respect he should have for him. 

Interviewer: So. How is the wedding going so far?

Ghost: I hate it. 

Interviewer: Something specific wrong?

Ghost: My ears are showing. People are here. Something is off. There’s… garlic. 

Interviewer: Garlic?

Ghost: Yeah. Garlic… And I think rice? But I think that’s normal at weddings.

Laswell’s wife, a lovely lady named Willow, slipped in and sat next to Laswell. She had brought benadryl for all of them and she showered her wife in kisses. Soap was fairly certain he heard her whispering some praise to Kate for handling it so well. 

Clara was… a bride? Soap was a little surprised by her outfit. It was a rather plain black dress with her nails painted black. A little on the nose for a vampire’s bride. She walked down the aisle and they all sat up to watch her. 

Price smiled, tilting his head. He grabbed her hands and The Baron, the lovely man officiating since Clara insisted someone do it, started to speak. The G-word was of course not spoken. 

In the middle of the ceremony, The Baron asked if anyone had any objections. 

Clara sighed softly. “It has been so fun being with you, John. Truly.” She snapped and rice fell from the ceiling in a giant circle around all of them. Soap wrinkled his nose when garlic hit his nose. “But unfortunately, you’re not much use to me alive.” 

Price had the gall to be shocked. 

The Baron shrugged and stepped back. If he died, so did about half of the vampires in the world thanks to sire rules, so no one exactly blamed him. His life was rather important. 

Price gasped. “Clara. I hoped you’d love me enough to change your mind.”

“Wait, you knew she’d try to kill you?” Alejandro asked, none of them bothering to move from their seat. 

Soap was still a little confused about the garlic rice. Was no one going to address that?

Gaz stood up. “You purposely put the wolfsbane in here didn’t you?? To poison my fucking boyfriend.”

“He was actually collateral damage. I needed Kate off her game.”

“That’s Laswell to you.” Laswell barked out, trying to stand. She almost immediately doubled over with hacking coughs and Willow caught her, gently helping her back down. 

The glare that Willow shot at Clara was enough to send chills down everyone’s spines. “How fucking dare you.”

“Oh, fuck off. Just let me take Price’s heart here and I’ll be on my way.”

Soap looked at Ghost. “Are you going to do anything?”

Rodolfo answered. “Uh, so we’d have to count the rice. Which would take a while. But it’s also covered in garlic. So we can’t touch it to count it. Meaning we’d probably lose count.”

Soap nodded. “Ah. Smart.”

“Stupidly.” Ghost nodded. “But I have an idea.” He turned to Price. “You know if you die, I die right?”

Price suddenly snapped to it. He backed away. “You can’t kill me. You’d kill Simon!”

“I’m prepared to make that sacrifice.”

“I’m not!” Soap shouted at her. Clara looked at hm and quickly raised her hand. He shot his hands up in surrender and backed down. He was not about to be a fucking rat. No one here would be as nice as Chuy did. 

Plus, he had a funny feeling Price could handle this. 

The stained glass of the reception hall suddenly shattered. A bolt went straight through Price’s chest. Not his heart, the exact center. His head made a harsh crack against the ground though. 

And then down came… Graves?

Soap was starting to feel like he was losing the plot. He glanced back at Chuy, who was looking at him, just as confused.

Graves was dressed like Reyes had been that day. Trenchcoat, blades and a crossbow with tipped arrows. He didn’t aim it at Price though, he instead aimed it at Clara. 

She lashed out, a wave of slick looking magic that sent Graves back a few feet. Then, she snapped, the same horrible snap that turned Reyes into a rat. 

No effect. 

Clara’s mouth twisted and she tried again. 

Nothing. 

She started lashing out, different magic being thrown at him. Graves reached into his shirt and Soap stood up, prepared to cover them if it was cross. 

It was an emblem of some kind. 

“There are rules to being a hunter. Always go in to a place prepared. Never leave yourself open. Watch what happens. I was just fine letting these guys run around. Frankly, they cleaned up the human monsters just as well as I did the monster monsters. And you had to fuck that up.”

Clara scoffed and shot at him again. He sidestepped it easily, moving a lot faster than Soap would really expect. 

Graves lined up the bolt. It went straight through her heart. Clearly on purpose. She cracked like glass. Graves didn’t bother to do much else. 

Ghost was still alive, so Price was clearly living. That was made clear when Graves yanked the bolt out of his chest and Price groaned. 

“You killed her.”

“I did.”

“Thank you.” 

Graves shrugged. He put his foot at Price’s throat. “Don’t ever do something that stupid again. Now, go find me a broom so I can release everyone.”

Chuy got up. “I could’ve left the whole time. I’m going home.”

“Couldn’t have helped?”

“....Nah.” Chuy carried Reyes with him. 

Graves threw his hands up and Gaz, who also honestly could’ve left at any point, completely unaffected by the garlic and the counting, finally helped the werewolves out. 

Farah huffed. “Best wedding I’ve ever been to.”

Malika laughed. “Is it a wedding if no one actually got married?”

Soap was still staring at Graves, feeling weird about the whole thing. “So when you and I were talking?”

“I was monitoring the situation. Hope you don’t take it too personal. Just needed to make sure nothing happened to the only neighbors I can tolerate.” Graves smiled and when Price came back, he swept the rice to the side and the vampires turned to bats, quickly escaping. None of them really seemed interested in talking to Price. 

Soap noticed something though. There was a little blood on Price’s face, just black enough to be vampire’s. And there was something in his eyes. Something extremely lucid that hadn’t been there before. 

“I need to apologize to my boys.”

[hand-written-dreams]

CRIMSON SHADE

Chapter 10

Weddings and Vendettas

He's a wolf in disguise

But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes

- ( The song of the chapter is 'Monster' by Lady Gaga)

Khushi sits silently at her desk, gently caressing the bandage on her wrist. With every blink, her eyelashes stir, each moment bringing a new flash of the same memory, vivid and unrelenting.

Rain.

Raindrops.

Raindrops clinging to long lashes.

Lashes framing beautiful brown eyes.

Fingers clutching a coat lapel,

Fingers circling a delicate wrist.

Teeth clenched around a glass piece.

Lips curled into a barely-there smirk.

Buaji's voice cuts through the trance. "Haire Nand Kishore, you're drenched! You'll catch a cold!" she fusses, rubbing a towel through Khushi's hair. Her eyes dart to Khushi's wrist, and a gasp escapes her lips. "What happened to your wrist?"

"It's just a tiny cut, Buaji. Don't worry."

"Are you feeling dizzy?"

"Why would I feel dizzy?"

"Because the sight of blood makes you dizzy, bitiya. Are you alright?"

"Oh," Khushi says, a trace of bitter amusement in her voice as she remembers the younger version of herself, the one who would faint and vomit at the mere sight of her own blood. Buaji doesn't know, that Khushi died a long time ago. The girl who once crumbled at the sight of red vanished the day she ended a man's life. Blood doesn't bother her much anymore. She's learned how to control it. Like she's learned to control the feelings coursing through her blood.... rage, fear, desire....

Except when 'he' is near.

One particular Armani-clad individual still makes her blood boil, agitating her to the point that she forgets all of her old phobias.

She can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad one.

It can't be anything but disastrous.

He is poisoning her blood.

.

.

.

When Khushi steps out of the shower, wearing her favourite pajamas with towel wrapped loosely around her hair, she sees Buaji rummaging through her cupboard, pulling out every designer outfit she owns.

"What are you doing, Buaji?"

"Didn't Mr.Jha tell you, bitiya? We are going to Gurgaon."

"For what?"

"The Oberoi's eldest son is getting married!...what you guys tell it these days..oh huh..'destination' or something. Obviously, all of Delhi's elites will be there. So, Mr.Jha is taking us with him."

"When?"

"As far as I know, we're supposed to prepare for a two-day stay there, this Saturday and Sunday."

Oh, Sucks.

This puts such a damper on her 'find-the-evidence-and-get-the-hell-out- of-here' project. Two days of mundane chatter, ridiculous cosplays and forced pleasantries. Fake smiles and empty wishes will be used left, right and centre. Weddings bore her to death. Why does she even need to attend? She doesn't know the bride or groom.

Uff..

But of course, Mr.Jha is busy trying to establish every connection he can before his election. Shakti Singh Oberoi isn't just one of the richest men in the city, Mr.Jha's real interest probably lies in the fact that the Oberoi family has a long list of people in Parliament right now. It's always about power and politics.

Buaji holds up two lehengas in front of her, waiting for Khushi to choose.

"Pick whichever you like, Buaji. I don't care."

"What will I do with her? Fine, I'm picking the red one," Buaji huffs.

Khushi rolls her eyes. Buaji can't be more predictable. "Not the red one."

"Why? Red looks good on you, bitiya."

"I'm kind of hating the red colour nowadays. What about pick the purple one."

Khushi connects her phone to the charger as buaji keeps sorting her clothes. She wraps herself in her blanket and drifts off to sleep.

But brown eyes invade her dreams.

Vivid, relentless, and inescapable.

.

.

.

It's insufferable. He is insufferable. That egoistic man is not letting her sleep at night. Khushi throws off her covers and sits up in her bed, dragging her laptop toward her. She will teach him a lesson. What leverage does he have against her again? A CCTV footage. She will hack his phone and erase that footage.

She fiddles with her phone. She has his number, right? He's sent her a text with that video. With a few taps, she searches for his contact.

What the fuck...

Of course, it's encrypted. But it's an encryption she can break.

"Game on, Mr.Raizada. Since the day we met, all you've done is threaten me and pin me against the wall. Now you've crossed your limits. You're pinning me in my dreams as well. I will show you what messing with me will cost you."

Her eyes gleam as her fingers fly across the keyboard, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. A smile stretches across her face as she cracks the code and is almost one tap away from erasing all the information from his phone when her laptop hangs. The screen scrambles with a warning about virus detection, and she curses under her breath as the laptop goes into self-preservation mode.

Frustrated, she rubs her eyes. Her phone beeps with an incoming message. An unknown number.

'Nice try, little bird.'

.

.

.

For the next few days, Khushi looks like a zombie. Not only is she plagued by the same dreams--or nightmares, as she prefers to call them--but nothing interesting is happening in her father's study either. Apparently, the wolves haven't yet discovered who killed their beloved daughter, so the serpents are safe, at least for now.

All of these make Khushi ponder a certain offer. It doesn't feel so bad sitting in her own bedroom, frustrated with empty search results and the impending mind-numbing conversations with a bunch of unknown wedding guests. An IT expert at a tech company-her classmates would salivate over a job like that straight out of college. She knows it's not her qualifications that are getting her this opportunity; it's because of something she can do for him.

Then there's what he said about providing evidence against her father. Ugh... why does she become such a fireball in his presence? He was right. She asked all the wrong questions. Instead of inquiring about the evidence he mentioned, how he got it, and how she could use it, she let his threats get to her and lost her shit entirely.

"I expected more from you, Khushi," she chides herself, banging her head against her laptop. It's a new task for her now, a new skill to learn: how to keep her cool in the presence of Mr.Arnav Singh Raizada.

But she doesn't have his number. How will she contact him? The encrypted number is a one-way street; she can't text him back.

There goes the offer. Now she has to wait for another chance meeting with him to tell him she'll work for him, but only if she can lay down some conditions of her own.

And the worst part? She has no idea when or if she'll meet him again in the near future.

The uncertainty gnaws at her, leaving her more frustrated than ever as she packs her bag for the wedding she is going to attend. The wedding is set in a luxury resort just on the outskirts of the city, no more than a two-hour drive away.

As she tosses clothes into her trolley, her mind races with scenarios, each more outrageous than the last, where she meets him again and tells him about her accepting his offer. She can already imagine the smug look on his face, that infuriating smirk that makes her want to scream, punch and wipe that smile from his face all at once.

But beneath the annoyance, there's a spark of determination. If she can just see him again, she'll find a way to turn the tables. She won't let him intimidate her or pin her down anymore.

Then her thoughts shatter as ice water of realization washes over her. What's the point of thinking about the offer or accepting it? Her father would never allow her to work, and neither would Mr.Jha. She can never do it anyway. She grits her teeth and snaps her trolley shut.

Khushi sits stiffly at the long banquet table, flanked by her father and Mr.Jha, her hands resting on her lap beneath the lavishly decorated tablecloth. The glittering wedding hall around her feels suffocating, the loud hum of chatter and laughter grating against her nerves. Her father, seated to her right, exchanges polite conversation with the other guests, his tone authoritative, as always. To her left, Mr.Jha, the epitome of perfection, flashes his charming smile to those who pass by, looking every bit the polished, well-bred man her father adores.

But Khushi feels disconnected. She is drowning in a world of pretension and formality, a world where every word is calculated, every action rehearsed. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfumes and freshly cut flowers, but it only reminds her how out of place she feels here.

The fabric of her lehenga digs into her skin. She wishes she could tie her hair up, but the makeup artist had styled it in loose waves cascading around her shoulders. The heavy jewellery weighs her down, making her body ache.

She should feel honoured to be seated between these two powerful men, her father's pride and her fiancé's polished charm surrounding her. But all she feels is trapped. Her thoughts swirl with a mixture of resentment and exhaustion. The glittering lights, the perfect smiles, the endless small talk, it all feels hollow.

Her gaze flickers across the room, trying to avoid the eyes of those who expect her to smile, to play the role of the dutiful daughter and future wife. But beneath the calm exterior, her heart races. Her body is present, but her mind is far away.

She softly drums against the linen, as Her eyes drift up, almost instinctively, and there he is.

So the Eagles are here as well, huh?

He is indeed an Eagle through and through, his presence alone exudes power. He’s draped in a deep brown suit-type sherwani, she isn’t quite sure what they are called. The tailored fabric clings perfectly to his imposing frame, every seam accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and the straight line of his posture. The deep, almost regal brown not only adds a richness to his look, but also brings out his eyes even more. She huffs closing her eyes.

He might be an asshole, but he's the kind you can't help but stare at. The traditional attire only adds to his appeal, making him infuriatingly hard to ignore, despite the attitude that comes with it. His presence demands attention, and no matter how arrogant he seems, there's no denying he's dangerously attractive.

His dark gaze fixed on her from across the room. His expression is unreadable, but the intensity behind his eyes is unmistakable. A shiver runs down her spine. A spark ignites in the air between them that no one else seems to notice. She quickly looks away, her pulse racing.

But the pull is undeniable. She glances back at him, catching his gaze once more. She was looking forward to this moment, the chance to meet him face-to-face once more. Her lips curve into a small, almost imperceptible smile, one she tries to suppress but can not. It doesn't escape him. One of his eyebrows lifts up.

And her breath catches. And in that split second, Khushi feels like they are the only two people in the room, locked in a battle of unspoken words and unreadable expressions. But that slight lift of his brow, that glint in his eyes-it tells her he knows. He always knows.

From the corner of her eye, she sees the wedding planner she was introduced to earlier, guiding the Eagles toward the table where she sits. Her heart skips a beat as she watches the group approach slowly. As soon as the first one arrives, the atmosphere shifts. One by one, the members of the Eagles come into view, their faces hardening the instant they spot who is already seated. It takes only a split second. A cold realization ripples through the group. This was a mistake. The wrong families had been seated together.

The wedding planner, blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation, smiles brightly at all of them. She tenses, her eyes flicking toward Mr.Jha, who sits rigidly beside her. A conversation runs through her mind.

"He said he was sure about who killed his father. But how could that be? The person he's talking about was just a boy back then...what, 14 or 15?"

Her eyes snaps back to the brown one.

Oh no!

The tension becomes palpable, thick enough to choke on. Guests at the table shift uncomfortably in their seats, casting uneasy glances at one another.

Mr.Rathore exchanges a sharp glance with Mr.Raizada before his gaze slid to her father, then to Mr.Jha, his lips pressed into a thin line, the displeasure clear despite his outward calm. "Well, this is.....unexpected," Mr.Rathore muttered, his voice cold, eyes darting between the Serpents already seated at the table.

Tension spikes when one of the men beside Mr.Raizada, makes a move to grab the collar of the wedding planner, his temper threatening to erupt. But Mr.Raizada raises a hand, a silent command, and the man freezes. Without breaking his composure, Mr.Raizada pulls a chair out in a smooth motion and gestures Mr.Rathore to sit. Then, with deliberate calm, he pulls out the chair beside Mr.Rathore and sits down himself. He leans back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest. "Forgive the wedding planner for the misunderstanding, Rakesh," he says, with his unsettlingly neutral voice with no malice, no hatred, no rage, no irritation, nothing. "After all, we are all friends here, aren't we?"

Her pulse quickens. She doesn't need to glance at her father to know his jaw is clenched, his fingers likely curled into tight fists beneath the table. And yet, mr.Raizada remains disturbingly calm, too calm. His eyes scan the faces of the serpents, not a single emotion flickering across his features. If anything, he seems amused, as if he's daring them to react, to make the first move.

Mr.Jha gives a curt nod,"Of course," he bites out, faking a smile. There aren't only the members of the Serpents and the Eagles, there are also Mr.Jha's political allies. He has to save face.

Across from her, the brown eyes briefly meet hers before he addresses everyone, "I trust we can make it through a few hours without incident," his voice low but carrying enough weight to silence the murmurs around the table.

The Eagles exchange wary glances as they hesitate for a beat before taking their seats. She watches across from her Junior Rathore quietly takes his place beside Mr.Raizada and then the two girls she saw at the restaurant earlier slide into the seats beside him. One of them, petite, with big dark eyes flashes her a small, secretive smile. The other, with glossy dark hair and a bit more confidence, sneaks a wave as though they're old friends sharing a private joke.

Strange. She frowns. Yet her lips twitch at the surrealness of the situation.

“Oh, darling, you’re here! Sorry, I’m late,” a singsong voice says as a freshly manicured finger trails across Mr.Rathore’s shoulder. A gorgeous woman in a black saree slides into the seat beside him. Ah yes, Mr.Rathore’s girlfriend, Sheetal Kapoor. The envy of all the men in the society.

Slowly, they begin to converse among themselves, and the atmosphere around the table settles back into a semblance of normalcy. Conversations ebb and flow as laughter punctuates the air. Khushi takes a sip of her cold drink, letting the chill pass through her, while her gaze drifts across the table.

There he is, blatantly staring at her, swirling his drink in the glass with a casual nonchalance that betrays his boredom. The corner of his lips quirks up.

She can't help but feel the heat rising in her cheeks under his unwavering gaze. It's as if he's dissecting her every move, and for a moment, she wonders if he can read her thoughts. With a quick glance, she meets his eyes, holding his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary before looking away, trying to regain her composure.

She rolls her eyes internally, refusing to let him see how flustered he makes her. "So charming," she mutters under her breath, hoping the sarcasm will help ease the tension brewing between them. But inside, she feels that familiar spark igniting again, making her pulse race.

She steals another glance, catching him smirking now, that infuriatingly confident smirk that tells her he knows exactly what effect he has on her. The table buzzes around them as the two of them are locked in a silent battle of wills.

The conversation around them shifts into the importance of female education, equality and how Mr.Jha is doing excellent job in this regards, but she has tuned it out.

She places her glass almost defiantly and crosses her arms, looking at him fully, refusing to look away. His smirk stretches further. It's smooth and teasing. He's savouring every second of their little game.

But the game is cut short when a woman, one of the wives of a business associate seated with the Serpents, turns her attention to Khushi with a warm, curious smile

"What about you, bitiya? Are you attending college?"

She blinks, breaking her staring contest, and smooths the napkin over her lap. Her composure slips back into place. She clears her throat, quickly scrambling to switch gears from their wordless duel to the polite conversation at hand.

"Oh, um..." she starts, offering the woman a polite smile. "I've graduated recently from IIT Delhi. Computer Science"

"She’s graduated with honours. We are very proud of her." Mr.Jha adds to their conversation.

The lady smiles radianty at her , "Oh, that's excellent. A girl in Computer Science. I'm so intrigued. Are you doing anything right now? Are you applying for higher education? Masters or PhD or anything else?"

"Umm.... I guess I'm now on a creative hiatus...exploring few..... personal interests."

Out of the corner of her eye, she catches his raised eyebrow across the table, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Then a sinfully deep voice joins the conversation as well. "In other words, you're neither studying nor working," he comments flatly.

"There are other things I do, of course." she feels her ear pinking as she sips her drink to control the verbal lashing that begs to come tumbling toward Mr.Raizada.

"Do share," he taunts in mock fascination. "What do you do, Miss Gupta? Besides collecting degrees just to keep them gathering dust, I mean." The table falls silent, not a good kind of silence.

"I'm sure, Miss Gupta will have a bright future. She is a brilliant girl and will do wonders to the society alongside her fiancé, Mr.Jha. They will be such an extraordinary couple," Mrs.Rastogi intervenes.

"Yeah, I'm sure, they will. So, tell us, Miss Gupta, what are you planning to do with that degree you get...with the money of the honourable tax payers of this country....besides indulging in hobbies and attending galas..." her eyes narrow as her fingers tightens around her glass, ".....or is it keeping the fashion industry afloat by purchasing enough clothes to dress half the country? If so, thank you in advance by the way, for investing in our business."

"I'm going to kill you, Mr.Raizada," she mutters silently clenching her teeth.

The poor lady, Mrs.Rastogi comes to damage control as she nervously adds, "The IT field has flourished in the last few years. I'm sure she'll find something to contribute to that. Bitiya, what are you planning to do next? Work, perhaps?"

Khushi hesitates, not sure how to respond to that question in front of everyone. Before she can find the right words, the infuriating man cuts through the conversation."Well, that depends, doesn't it?" His gaze flickering to her father and then Mr.Jha, before finally landing back on her. "I suppose certain permissions are required before any plans can move forward."

The words are casual, but the barb is clear. Her polite smile wavers just a fraction.

A particular clinking sound of curtilary draws her attention to Mr.Jha. His expression is calm, but his knuckles whiten around his fork. "Actually, that's not true. I'll let her to do anything she wants." Mr.Jha replies smoothly, his tone polite but edged with barely concealed irritation.

"You'll let her...." He quotes him and smirks leaning slightly forward , "...like I said, she needs your permission to do a job if she wants. Where's the equality in this again?"

"Khushi's future is important to all of us. We only want what's best for her. She has full autonomy to do whatever she wants to do." Mr.Jha says through gritted teeth.

Her eyes meeting the brown ones. His gaze is sharp, as though he's daring her to respond. But she remains silent.

"Oh, that's wonderful to hear, Mr.Jha. How reassuring it is to know that our future leaders practice what they preach! Supporting your fiancée in her career sets such an extraordinary example for the young generation of this country," the lady gushes on and on and on.

"Yes, thank you, Mrs.Rastogi," Mr.Jha responds politely, meanwhile shooting daggers across the table. "Empowering women is a central theme of my campaign. After all, charity does begin at......"

"Actually, Dad," Khushi cuts in with a slightly higher tone, turning fully toward her father, "I have been thinking of sharing this with you for a couple of days. I have an offer from a tech company. Paragon Tech.....I think, I'll consider that offer. What do you think? It's a good company, right?" She asks faking a bright, enthusiastic smile. It's an opening. She had to take this chance.

"Yes, it's a good company. You can work there if you wants, sweetheart." His father says before pursing his lips. "We'll always support her." her father continues, nodding at Mrs.Rastogi while brown-eyes looks like he’s just won the argument.

Everyone returns to their starters as the conversation dies down, but an urge lingers in the air. An urge to strike back.

"You know, Mr.Raizada," Mr.Jha starts with a casual tone. "I heard a very amusing story a few days ago... one of my bodyguards just mysteriously found himself unconscious in your presence."

And that infuriating smirk is back on his face as he wipes his mouth with a napkin. "My condolences. You need better security, Mr.Jha, with better skill to remain on their feet.....and better manners."

Mr.Jha’s jaw tightens, but before he can retort, Her father addresses the brown-eyed man across the table with a hard look. "Mr.Raizada, have you forgotten your manners at home?"

Something darker flickers in the caramel-brown orbs, "On the contrary, Mr.Gupta, I remember them quite well, much to your future disappointment."

She can feel both Mr.Jha and his father's rage toward the brown-eyes radiating off them in waves. And she’s sitting in the centre of these three men.

The servers gathering around the table help bring the tension down a few notches. Mr. and Mrs.Rastogi attempt to extinguish the brewing disaster by shifting the conversation to lighter topics, asking Mr.Jha about his political campaign and other matters.

And all this time, his eyes have been on her. Discreet this time, not very obvious.

She feels like burning from the inside out, and all he does is watch, his expression unreadable. It drives her mad, to the point she wants to scream, but instead, her voice comes out quieter as she responds to Mrs.Rastogi's other questions.

After a while, he leans in, his lips moving silently as he whispers something to Mr.Rathore. And then he leaves the table, leaving behind a empty chair in front of her.

The chair remains vacant when their main course is served, even through dessert.

Without his brown eyes all over her, she feels strangely empty too, just like the chair does.

And it’s a dangerous feeling.

A feeling that could ruin her.

Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! I’d love your feedback. Leave a comment!

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@arshifiesta @featheredclover @phuljari @jalebi-weds-bluetooth @chutkiandchotte @msbhagirathi @titaliya @shiyaravi

[the-goya-jerker]

you have no idea how happy it makes me that you like bride of reanimator. everyone talks about reanimator the first but i am a bride defender until the day i die she is an icon to me ✊

Bride of Re-Animator is earnestly my favorite of the two Re-Animator movies I've seen. I wanna talk about the Bride herself for a minute.

There's something about the way those two piece together this bride, the longing for a lost love Dan puts into her, the longing for science that Herbert puts into her. Her creation is both grotesque and beautiful.

It's the love Dan felt for his patient that gets them the head they need, and yet she's violently dismembered. She's stripped of all of her identity despite this care because Dan wants so badly to have Meg back.

She's covered in a shimmering and beautiful cloth as she's made, which is turned into her dress, but she's also open in parts, covered in swathes of exposed muscle and skin.

Is it love or violation that we witness? Creation or destruction? Is she beautiful or horrifying? Yes! All of the above!

She is, ultimately, an object. She is given almost no chance for personhood. She is a composite of parts stolen from dead girls by two men who hacked them up in the name of science. She is a discovery, not a person.

And the part that really gets me when you look at her is that despite her nudity I don't think she's truly intended as an entirely sexual object for viewers either. She's a corpse with muscles exposed. And, now, we here at Goya Jerker Inc. think that's hot as hell, but do most people? Is your average Bride of Re-Animator watcher gonna get all horny about that? Probably not.

I think this photo really exemplifies it. She's covered in metal and made of exposed muscle and sinew. You can see so many veins. Sure, there's a nipple just out in the open, but she's also got a big ol' zipper on her crotch.

Overall, I think she's an object like an anatomical model or a ballerina in a music box is. She's useful, she's pretty, but for the average viewer she isn't really all that sexual.

To me though? HOO BOY! I think she's so hot.

Miss Bride of Re-Animator, I would have done coke with you and kept you alive forever.

9/10 cause I get a little melancholy thinking about her.

[weepingfromacedartree]

Dancing Around the Truth: Chapter 1

Hi friends!! Chapter 1 of Dancing Around the Truth is now available for anyone who is interested! Please find the chapter below, or on the link above.

Chapter 1: Friday (Before)

Tonight marks the final ball of the season. The social gathering to celebrate every social gathering that came before it. Each one an important chapter in some lucky couple’s love story. That’s what Violet Bridgerton would say, at least. Benedict would call it a celebration of the friendship and art (and sex, wine, drugs, etc.) forged in the last six months or so. Eloise would say it’s the last time she’s forced to endure a corset before retreating to the country for the remainder of the year. Tonight, Colin would argue that it’s an excellent place to drink. And to catch a glimpse of a certain elusive redhead. 

He stands in the depths of Lady Danbury’s ballroom, swishing back the last drops of champagne from his glass. As the bubbles prick his throat, he half-listens to Violet and Francesca’s commentary on his sister’s first official season. 

Colin had earnestly attempted to take interest in his sister’s debut. It’s a momentous time in any woman’s life — or at least that was what he was told. But despite these attempts, Colin did not take an active role in Francesca’s debut. Nor Eloise’s second season. Truthfully, he did not even take an active role in his own social expectations this year. There were simply other, more important things occupying his mind, leaving little room for other matters. 

Well, there was one thing on his mind. 

One person, really. 

One of Francesca’s (discarded) suitors approaches the group to share a word. If Colin gave slightly more of a damn, he might roll his eyes at the man’s feeble attempt to win a lady’s favor on the final night of the season. Instead, he takes the opportunity to slip away. He follows the path his eyes have been trained on all night. 

Moving through the crowd between them, Colin watches Penelope as she dances across the floor. He supposes “dance” is somewhat of a generous term for the act. It would be more accurate to describe Penelope as being “thrown around” by the geezer she’s been paired with. 

Her “dance” partner is Jeremy Michaelson, a Welsh lord who’s attended these events a few weeks now. To this day, Colin has never spoken a word to the man, but he knows his type. The type to wander into the Ton halfway through a season and expect to scoop up whichever young bride fits his liking. Judging from his performance on the dance floor, out of sync with not just his partner, but the room around him, Colin also takes him for a deaf man with two left feet. 

As the orchestra grows louder, the strings building towards a climax, Colin’s eyes shift back to Penelope. She’s wearing a dress of blush and gold, the floral fabric reflecting the light of the room. It’s as if every step she takes changes the light around her. It’s entrancing. Literally. Colin cannot take his eyes off of her. 

Penelope’s hair is loosely pinned atop her head, pink flowers laced through red curls. She looks beautiful, even with that unmistakable frown persisting on her lips as she’s guided by Michaelson. When Colin thinks of Penelope, he usually thinks of her smile before anything else. Before this season, she rarely spoke to him without that smile gracing her lips. 

When the music finally draws to a close, Penelope takes a step back from Michaelson and nods politely. Her partner, in turn, starts hacking relentlessly. His old lungs were clearly not built for the dance routine. His greasy fingers latch onto Penelope’s shoulder for balance. That is Colin’s last straw. 

The 1815 season had been markedly different than years past for several reasons. The most prominent, distressing difference for Colin was in his relationship with his best friend. Before the season even began, he could sense that something had shifted between them. During his travels, he had sent her countless letters, persistent but always unanswered. While it was not unusual for his siblings to leave such letters unanswered, he did not expect the same from Penelope. 

In that time between seasons, he could sense that a shift had occurred between them. But, for the life of him, he could not think of a single logical reason why — so he brushed it off. For months, he foolishly held on to hope that he was simply over-thinking Penelope’s silence. That all would be well once they were together again. Once he could look into her eyes and speak to her directly.

“Mr. Bridgerton,” she had called him, the night of the Queen’s inaugural ball. Her eyes were apathetic. Her voice was cool. The fact that she had run out of every room he had walked into that night should have been the first clue that his suspicions were correct. That something of significance had changed between them. But Colin has a tendency to overlook such details. 

“Miss Featherington,” he calls to her now. 

Penelope’s head turns quickly, a look of surprise on her face. Although Colin’s eyes have been transfixed on her all night, clearly she was unaware of his presence. 

“Colin?” she says quickly. Her surprise carries through to her voice. He suppresses a grin when he hears his Christian name fall from her lips.

“It is getting quite late.” Colin takes his eyes off of her for just a second, just to glance at the old man. He’s coughing up a storm a foot away from where they stand. “I was hoping you might save me a dance before the night is finished.” 

Colin looks down at the dance card tied around Penelope’s gloved wrist. From this distance, it appears disappointingly full. 

“I believe the lady said she was about to retire —” 

“Yes. I believe I have one dance left in me,” she says, cutting the old man off. Colin is so pleasantly surprised that his brain seems to stop working for a moment. Then Penelope’s hand is in his, leading him towards the other side of the dance floor. 

“Thank you,” she whispers once they find their positions across from one another. 

“Whatever for?” Colin responds, a smirk on his face. The music starts.

He pulls Penelope, hand already resting in his own, a few inches closer as their feet move in step. 

“For saving me from that…” She glances behind her. Michaelson is now walking towards the staircase at the opposite end of the room. It looks as though the distance might kill him.

“Walking corpse?” 

Penelope laughs in spite of herself. Colin considers it a win. 

Though his mouth remains closed, Colin wants to tell her that he would save her from a million men like Jeremy Michaelson. He wants to tell her that he would do anything to make her happy, to protect her. He wants to tell her all of this, but he fears uttering those words aloud will only make it easier for him to let her down. Again. 

The music picks up and, despite the tension between them this past season, Colin cannot help but notice their movements are as natural as they ever were. It always feels natural with Penelope, he remembers. 

About halfway through the dance, Colin notices Penelope’s attention float to the back of the room. Curiosity getting the better of him, he turns to investigate what has stolen her attention away from him. That’s when he sees Portia Featherington… speaking very closely with Jeremy Michaelson. 

Suppressing a groan from deep within his gut, Colin gently pulls his dance partner towards the other side of the room. Towards the garden. As if taking Portia out of view could magically save Penelope from her mother’s scheming. 

Colin’s movement disrupts the flow of the dance floor. He weaves Penelope through the other couples while they continue following the intended steps (silently, Colin prays Anthony is not watching from the corner somewhere, or else he will surely receive a lecture on the embarrassment of improper dance etiquette later that night). While Cressida Cowper may throw him a disgusted look for nearly stepping on her dress, Penelope does not miss a step. 

Once they land on the edge of the dance floor, Penelope squeezes his hand. Leaning in a bit closer, she says, “This hall is starting to feel a bit crowded, would you say?”

Colin’s brow furrows. What is she getting at? 

“Yes, I suppose it is.”

“I believe a stroll through the garden would be quite refreshing at this time of night,” she says, her eyes fixed on his intently. Earlier in the season, Penelope would have said something like this to avoid Colin’s company. The way she’s looking up at him now, her gaze open and uninterrupted… This is an invitation. 

Maybe there’s hope for them yet. 

Colin clears his throat. “Yes. And the perfect weather for star gazing.” 

The orchestra plays on. The other couples move in sync. Colin and Penelope exit the dance floor. No one notices them slip into the moonlight. 

⚘  ⚘  ⚘

Colin has no idea if his comment on star gazing was true or not. As he strolls along a row of lily bushes, the only sight his eyes can focus on is the girl walking beside him. 

She’s telling him about her friendship with Lady Danbury, who had taken Penelope under her wing that season. Her voice grows louder as they walk farther away from the crowd behind them. She’s telling him about the many hours she spent in this very garden. She’s talking with her hands; she nearly chops a lily off its stem as she recounts stories Danbury had shared with her. Particularly, about Queen Charlotte and her many… quirks. 

“She has somewhat of an obsession with flowers. She has them sent here from points all around the world, just to ensure that there is always something blooming in her garden.” 

“Even in January?” 

“Yes!” Penelope exclaims excitedly. Her gloved hand accidentally brushes against Colin’s bare knuckles. “Well, not necessarily in her garden, of course. But she supposedly has a magnificent bush of Jasmine in her green house. It blooms at the start of every new year.” 

“Flowers for the new year,” he repeats back to her, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. 

Penelope approaches a rather large willow tree and presses her back against it. Colin realizes that they’ve walked so deeply into Danbury’s garden that they can no longer hear the ball they left behind. 

Silence hangs between them. 

For months, Colin had been very cautious around Penelope. At the start of the season, he could barely speak a word to her without her running off. When she did stick around long enough to spare him a conversation, it was brief. Formal. Always delivered to a “Mr. Bridgerton.” Never to “Colin.” Those first few months were difficult for him to navigate, but eventually, he learned to adapt.

Desperate not to lose her for good, Colin found a balance between giving Penelope the space she needed and receiving the company he so ardently desired. Around the midpoint of the season, they spoke briefly, but politely to one another at most social gatherings. Although not as familiar as the conversations they had once entertained, they were certainly preferable to silence.  

Around the time that Prudence had gotten engaged, things had shifted between them again. He’s not sure exactly what did it, but Penelope’s defenses began to lower. Slowly.

Although rare, Colin lived for the moments when he and Penelope resembled the friends they once were. But he also knew that if he wanted their relationship to truly go back to what it once was -- or perhaps even more -- he needed to remain cautious. He could not push things too far. He could not say the wrong thing. He could not meddle too much, even if…

“Do I need to worry about that Michaelson fellow harassing you?”

“Harassing me?” Penelope questions, incredulously. “No. Lord Michaelson is harmless. Just old. And quite boring.” Her words relax him. A little. “It’s my mama I am more worried about.” 

“How so?” Although he doesn’t have to ask. 

Colin is no stranger to meddling mamas, and he knows Portia Featherington well enough to know she would do anything in her power to secure prosperous futures for each of her daughters. His mind goes back to that image of Portia and Michaelson conversing at the base of Lady Danbury’s stairway; his heart sinks before he can push it aside. 

“She thinks he would be a suitable marriage match for me.” 

“That’s ridiculous! He’s old enough to be your grandfather,” he exclaims without thought. He knows this conversation is anything but cautious -- that it could potentially derail all the work he had done that season. But that fact is greatly overshadowed by threat of Penelope marrying a man like Jeremy Michaelson. 

“I am not going to marry him, Colin.” There’s a confidence in her voice that soothes his nerves. A bit. “I do not wish to marry for any reason other than love, and I certainly do not see any prospect of love with that man.”

“Well… good.” Colin stammers out. He’s having trouble finding the proper words to navigate this exchange. He had discussed the topic of marriage with Penelope on occasion before, but the matter had never felt so… serious. 

“You deserve to marry for love, Pen.”

Even in the dark cover of night, he can see her nose scrunch tightly. A look of doubt crosses her face. She opens her mouth, but instead of arguing with him, she merely says: “As do you.” 

A short, comfortable silence passes between them. Then Penelope speaks up again, a forced-perkiness to her voice. “Tonight marks the end of the season. What foreign land will you be setting off to in the morning?” 

“Oh… No. I’m planning on staying in Mayfair. For a little while at least,” he says, hoping his response sounds casual enough. Penelope looks baffled. 

“What happened to your insatiable need to explore exotic lands? To forge new experiences, to eat delicious foods, to —” She’s throwing his words back at him. Words he had written to her in confidence while on his previous travels. It does not escape his mind that she is reciting fragments of letters she had previously claimed not to have read at all. Colin knows she could go on like this for hours. While he does find it somewhat amusing, he does wish to move past the subject. 

“I can do all those things after next year’s season. I am four and twenty. I surely hope that time is not running out to achieve such goals.”

“Well… Yes. But you could be married by the end of next season. It will surely be more difficult to explore the world once you have a family of your own.” 

Colin desperately wants to move past this subject. 

“The last time I checked, I have a family now. If you were to ask my mama to inquire on the subject, she would undoubtedly tell you that I have spent enough time away from my family as it is. Enough to last us all a lifetime.” 

While that may technically be true, Colin feels guilty implying that that it is the primary reason behind his choice to remain in England in the coming months. In truth, there are too many reasons to count and he refuses to spend enough time on the subject to determine which is most pressing. But if he were to rank them, he knows that Violet’s passive aggressive comments would be far from the top of that list. 

“Will any of your family be with you here? In Mayfair?” 

“No — well, Anthony will be traveling back and forth. And Benedict always grows bored of the country and returns to Mayfair early. But… mor than that… I doubt I will remain in Mayfair all that time. Without any travel plans restricting me, I’ll be able to visit Daph and Aubrey Hall as much as I please.” Colin realizes that he is rambling. That he is talking stupidly fast. Attempting to bring himself back to a normal tempo, he says, “Actually, the entire family is traveling to Aubrey Hall for a week to cap off the season. Daphne’s even bringing little Auggie.” 

Penelope smiles at him, earnestly. “When do you depart?” 

“Tuesday.” Less than four days from now. 

They are silent a moment. Then Penelope says, “It’s admirable, how close you are with your family.” There is an unmistakable sadness — or maybe longing — in her voice as she says this. 

“Will you be presiding in the country for the remainder of the year?” 

“No, actually,” she says, to Colin’s surprise. The Featheringtons always travel to the country during the off-season. The whole Ton does, really. “I will be here in Mayfair, as well.” 

If he hadn’t sensed an unease in her voice, Colin would have been elated to hear that he and Penelope would be living in the same city a little while longer. He might have taken it as a sign. A blessing, even. 

“So you and your mother —”

“No,” she cuts him off. She looks away. “Mama is traveling to Ireland to visit an ailing aunt. She’s likely only traveling there to secure me a rich cousin to marry. Either way, I would only get in the way.” 

Colin’s body goes rigid, panic coursing up and down his back. When she finishes speaking, he manages to say, “So you’ll be here… alone?” 

Penelope pushes herself off the willow tree. She is back standing firmly on two feet. “No, the staff remains here year-round.” 

“That is not what I meant.” Pleasantry quickly fades from Colin’s tone, panic rising up to take its place. 

“Did you not just pronounce that you, yourself, will remain alone in Mayfair for some time?”

“That is different.”

“How so?”

“You are an unmarried lady of nineteen. Do you really think —”

“Colin.” Her voice is stern, cutting him off before he has the chance to say something truly insulting. “I know it is unusual, but these are my circumstances. My father is gone. Philipa and Prudence are both married off. It is just mama and myself now. And I can promise you that traveling with her to Ireland would result in an infinitely worse fate than whatever could happen to me alone in Mayfair.”

When she stops speaking, she watches him, waiting for him to object to the obviously insane notion that she should stay in Mayfair alone for any amount of time. But Colin doesn’t object, he’s too busy weighing the scales in his mind. Questioning if he needs to push Penelope towards logic, or if that will simply push her away from him. 

Softer now, both in the tone of her voice and look in her eyes, she says, “People tend to underestimate wallflowers. They assume that there is an inherent weakness in those who are overlooked. A lack of sense in those who do not speak up. But I do have sense. I have spent enough time alone to learn how to survive on my own.” 

He knows there is truth to her words. He knows firsthand how easily it is to overlook Penelope’s intelligence. Her resourcefulness. Her value. But if her words were meant to convince Colin to accept her preposterous plans, they surely failed her. 

“I know your worth, Pen. But even if you can live on your own, it should not mean you have to.”

Her shoulders move backwards, as if his words land a physical blow to her body. 

“I will be fine. I promise.” 

Colin has to literally bite his tongue to keep himself from saying the wrong thing. He wants to protect her, of course, but it is not just that. He wants her to be happy. He wants her to be surrounded by people who love and care for her. He wants her to possess the family she deserves. 

“You could come with me to Aubrey Hall this —”

“No, Colin. I cannot.” Any ounce of anger or annoyance is gone from her voice. She simply sounds tired. “Eloise has made it clear that she does not wish for me to remain in her company any longer. It would be wrong of me to cross that boundary.”

“You would be my guest.” His words reek of desperation. 

Penelope simply shakes her head. “I will stay here, in Mayfair. I shall be here when you return.” Then, “Goodnight, Colin.” 

As she turns on her heel, Colin feels a sense of dread boiling up from his stomach. He had spent the last six months expertly towing the line to bring himself back into Penelope’s favor. Ten minutes ago, they were laughing and conversing like old friends. Ten seconds ago, Penelope said goodbye to him with a familiar coolness to her voice. He wishes she had left him angrily. That would have given him more hope for their future. 

Feeling lost within himself, Colin watches as Penelope walks away from him. Her skirt sways behind her. The gold beading reflects the silver of the full moon above. The iridescent reflection turns her dress into a constellation across her skin. It’s mesmerizing. 

He wants to walk towards her. He wants to call after her. He wants to go back in time. He should step forward. He should, but he doesn’t. It’s like ivy suddenly sprouts from the ground and twists around his ankles. He could easily break free from its grasp, but he can’t. 

He wants to follow her, but he fears that if he gets too close, she might disappear forever. 

[motherof-chaos]

✨😌✨ I know it’s late in the season but since you inspired me to watch Coraline again, do you have any other movie suggestions for Halloween? 🎃

Babe, it's NEVER too late in the season 🖤👻 I'm not even joking, I contemplated watching Coraline again yesterday. IT'S JUST SO BEAUTIFUL.

I fucking loved this question, thank you. I've spent so long thinking about my answers and it was haaard for me to not just list my favourite horror films (they are totally on the list 🙈) but here we go-

Insidious, The Conjuring, House of 1000 Corpses (& The Devil's Rejects too), Donnie Darko, American Psycho, Candyman, Ginger Snaps & Urban Legend.

And then for some light hearted fun 👻 -

Hocus Pocus, Ghostbusters, E.T, Beetlejuice, Corpse Bride & Casper!

In terms of horror, I've found that I've gone soft in my old age. LOL. I now much prefer to watch a psychological thriller type of horror rather than a hack n slash blood bath/ torture film BUT if you enjoy that and don't mind a foreign language film, Switchblade Romance / High Tension is THE perfect mix of both 👌🏻OMG. I cannot recommend it enough. I'm pretty sure there's an English dub of it come to think of it.

[silverjetsystm]

"Tell me... a story..." Black Mask pants, easing himself down beside what would have been his lover could he still love, with rather much less grace than he'd like. They are about equally battered and bruised, due to crawl home more than limp... but Roman had been fresh to this fight and M not so much. The only reason he's the one capable of calling a shot. An old one. One extended to him forever ago, when they'd started tiring of the usual routine and had begun extending it. It appeals more than just putting a bullet in his bride and calling it a day. Price for being let go. One story. M's turn.

@echoestm -- this is before we start making deals.

Moon Knight's chest wheezed and clicked with wounded approximation of growling, face twisted in rage. Last night's Subterranean round with Commodore Planet. Common sense would have told him he wasn't ready for another match. Black Mask was his to deal with so he went. Mask had been ready for him. Moon Knight didn't make it easy. In the end, Silver spoon Sionis, settling down beside him, giving the terms of survival. Galling. "B-better leave. Hrrk. While you still can."

Bullet in his head isn't how he dies.

Concrete is a lousy mattress; he glares, rummaging through stories to tell. Himself? No. The snake and the rabbi in the shtetl, learned at his father's knee, drilled into tuned out ears as a teen, and recited to Marlene and Frenchie years ago? Too nostalgic, too revealing. Glowing eyes stare into the wooden skull.

{Purim's comin' up.} Really Jake? {Uh huh.}

Softer, saltier wheeze, shifting little by little upright. "Purim's comin' up. You'd like it. Big bash….Dress up, Masks. I'd always be Indy. Kids put on a lil play. Adult themes go over their heads. An' everyone gets fershnickered…" A boy's mischievous smile.

The story starts and stops. Catching breath. Coughing. "Long ago, in Persia, the king--" There was a name. They've forgotten. "--throws a six month long party for his whole kingdom. By the end, he's drunk and tells his queen to show her royal beauty. Y'know. Birthday suit style. She refuses. He picks a different girl to be queen. Esther. Esther's Jewish… Her cousin, Mordecai, tells her to keep it hidden. Mordecai keeps the king from getting assassinated. This ticks off his viceroy, Haman."

Deliberate pause. "Supposed to boo when you hear his name. Haman…" Boot nudges Mask's leg. "M tellin' a story. Y'gotta play along… W-Work with me here…M not performin' fer--" Wheeze, hack. "Rrrn. Haman learns Mordecai's Jewish. Convinces the king to kill all the Jews in Persia. Mordecai hears this plot. Jews start fastin' and prayin'. Nobody can talk sense into the king cause the king says anyone who approaches him will die. Esther's scared. She eventually addresses the king cause we all know she's the only one who can approach. Says 'If I perish, I perish.' Mordecai keeps tickin' Haman off by not bowin' to him."

Layers. Intrigue. Is the boxer holding pain while the scrapper talks? Chicago or Brooklyn? They're all Moon Knight, they all make up the rabbi's son. Is this even engaging? White clothes, black masks of cloth and wood. If Moon Knight dies, all they die. Chances are they'll scrap another time. Way of things. Jake and Grant guess this is high stakes flirting. Cute.

"Haman decides to hang Mordecai the next day. King hears Mordecai saved his life chapters ago. An' asks Haman how to honor a guy like that. Haman thinks the king's talkin' about him. So he tells the king to let the guy wear the king's robes and be led round on the king's horse. King has Haman give these honors to Mordecai. Haman's night is as bad as his day. Esther reveals she's Jewish, King backs her, an' Haman is executed."

Their smile turns Moon Knight bloodthirsty. Marc's favorite part. No G-d mentioned in this tale. G-d is in the pile-up of individual actions. "Cause y'can't call cancel a decree," he says, scathingly. "What y' can do is kill all those with lethal intent. The Jews rise up and put Haman's sons, would be killers, an' thousands of other people to the sword." The non-child friendly part. How far is too far?

"And now we tell the story every year, eating cookies of Haman's ear."

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

Movies & TV of 2022 List

Here’s my list of what I watched this year! I may have left some stuff out, especially in the TV department, because I’m not always good at remembering to add stuff to The List.

For movies, I put hearts next to the ones I watched for the first time and extra enjoyed! I also attempted to do it with TV, but then realized I enjoyed way too much stuff and it was pretty much pointless.

Movies of 2022 January 01. I Love You, Phillip Morris 02. Lady of the Manor 03. Red Notice 04. Bridget Jones’s Diary 05. Jurassic Park 06. Jurassic Park: The Lost World 07. Peter Rabbit 2 08. The Double 09. The Lost Daughter 10. #Alive 11. Before Sunset 12. Stage Beauty 13. Persuasion (2007) 14. Beauty and the Beast (2017) February 15. Falling for Fígaro 16. Nightmare Alley 17. Free Guy 18. I Want You Back 19. Austenland 20. Marry Me ♥ 21. Life After Beth 22. Shaun of the Dead 23. Warm Bodies March 24. The Tragedy of Macbeth ♥ 25. West Side Story (2021) 26. Silent Night ♥ 27. Then Came You 28. The Object of My Affection 29. Housebound April 30. Vacation Friends 31. The Lost City ♥ 32. Everything Everywhere All At Once ♥ 33. Baby Done ♥ 34. Something's Gotta Give 35. Don Jon 36. Ondine 37. The Crying Game ♥ 38. The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent ♥ May 39. Sense and Sensibility ('95) 40. Fresh ♥ 41. Men ♥ June 42. Book of Love 43. Fire Island ♥ 44. Encanto 45. Jurassic World: Dominion ♥ 46. Good Luck To You, Leo Grande ♥ 47. Jurassic Park 48. Downton Abbey: A New Era July 49. Mr. Malcolm’s List ♥ 50. Persuasion (1995) 51. Lamb 52. Persuasion 2022 53. Cha Cha Real Smooth ♥ 54. The Sea Beast ♥ August 55. Nope ♥ 56. Not Okay 57. Spy 58. Runaway Bride 59. The Family Stone 60. Did You Hear About The Morgans? 61. Midsommar 62. Clerks 63. Dirty Dancing 64. E.T. ♥ 65. An Evening with Beverly Luff Lin September 66. Three Thousand Years of Longing ♥ 67. Vengeance 68. Zombie for Sale ♥ 69. Don’t Look Now October 70. Paddington 2 💕 71. The Valet 72. Catherine, Called Birdy ♥ 73. Significant Other 74. Addams Family Values 75. Crimson Peak 76. Practical Magic November 77. Enola Holmes 2 ♥ 78. See How They Run ♥ 79. Ever After 💙✨ 80. Selena Gomez: My Mind and Me 81. The Menu ♥ 82. The Wonder ♥ 83. Last Night in Soho ♥ 84. Weird: The Weird Al Yankovic Story ♥ 85. Disenchanted 86. Marcel the Shell with Shoes On ♥ December 87. Strange World ♥ 88. Bros 89. Amsterdam 90. The Banshees of Inisherin 91. Knives Out: Glass Onion ♥ 92. Klaus 93. It's A Wonderful Life 94. The Big Year 95. The Invitation TV of 2022 January Queer Eye, Season 6 Parks and Rec, Season 5 Emily in Paris, Season 1 Search Party, Season 5 Back to Life, Season 1 Wolf Like Me, Season 1 Emily in Paris, Season 2 Back to Life, Season 2 The Witcher, Season 2 Parks and Rec, Seasons 6-7 Yellowjackets, Season 1 February The Paradise, Season 1 Santa Clarita Diet, Season 1-3 The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1 Peacemaker, Season 1 Stanley Tucci: Searching for Italy The Woman in the House Across the Street from the Girl In The Window The Marvelous Mrs Maisel, Season 2 Around the World in 80 Days, Season 1 The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Season 3 The Paradise, Season 2 Ghosts, Season 3 March The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel, Season 4 Murderville, Season 1 Single Drunk Female, Season 1 OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH, SEASON 1 All Creatures Great and Small, Season 2 The Larkins, Season 1 Upload, Season 1 April Upload, Season 2 Killing Eve, Season 4 Flight of the Conchords, Season 1 Sanditon, Season 2 Flight of the Conchords, Season 2 Starstruck, Season 2 Wrecked, Season 1 You, Me, and Them, Season 1 Grace and Frankie, Season 7 May Lost, Season 1 Julia, Season 1 Lost, Season 2 Wrecked, Season 2-3 The Baby, Season 1 Killing It, Season 1 Stranger Things, Season 4-A June Good Trouble, Season 4-A Hacks, Season 2 Mr. Mayor, Season 2 Lost, Season 3 New Girl, full series (watched over past few months!) Gentleman Jack, season 2 July Lost, Season 4-5 Lost, Season 6 Agatha Raisin, Season 1-2 Anne With An E, Season 1-2 Minx, Season 1 August Girls5Eva, Season 2 The Orville, Season 2 Why Women Kill, Season 2 Schitt’s Creek, full series (over past few months) Anne With An E, Season 3 Never Have I Ever, Season 3 The Afterparty, Season 1 Another Period, Season 1-3 September Trying, Season 3 My So Called Life, Season 1 and only! Only Murders in the Building, Season 2 Superstore, Season 1-4 Darby and Joan, Season 1 October Lots of BBC Ghosts! Superstore, Season 5-6 Derry Girls, Season 3 Miracle Workers, Season 3 Wellington Paranormal, Season 4 House of the Dragon, Season 1 Los Espookys, Season 1-2 Mary Berry: Love to Cook, Season 1 Difficult People, Season 1-3 November Interview with the Vampire, Season 1 Physical, Season 1-2 Mammals, Season 1 Miss Scarlet and the Duke, Season 2 Broad City, Season 1-4 Mum, Season 1-2 December Down to Earth with Zac Efron, Season 2 Mum, Season 3 Wednesday, Season 1 Broad City, Season 5 Loot, Season 1 Around The World In 80 Days, Season 1 Avenue 5, Season 2 Our Flag Means Death, Season 1 30 Rock, Season 1

[lady-wren-of-tella]

ALSO ABOUT THE ZIRA AND IVY BEING MASC THIGN!!! IDK IF THIS SENT UT IM SENDING IT AGAIN QUOTED BETTER

i think zira would be more masc in terms of personality while ivy would be more masc in terms of function!

like think about it, zira has to act tough and shit because she is very much a contender for the throne (or is she meant to be queen), and she must think on the offensive in order to survive, being tough so that people can rely on her

to me, ivy reads as a more emotionally healthy person (although later arcs may change that) but i can see her knowing a lot of life hacks and shit

ohhh okay i see what u mean and to a certain extent i agree

i think zira is definitely more masc (energy wise) at the beginning of the novels, but i think that by the end, her character development helps her really understand her emotions which completely breaks down the mascness in her energy

presentation-wise i think zira is definitely more fem

well she embodies a sort of beauty that is dangerous and volatile

ivy is sure/resolute and because she’s much poorer, wouldn’t have the access to a lot of pretty clothing like dresses (she has to prioritize functionality). to her, dresses and things are a luxury and so i think she won’t feel truly comfortable in fancy dresses and things for a while

zira will always be comfortable with her sensuality and her fashion (she uses everything about her as a weapon) and is confident enough in her abilities that she doesn’t feel practical clothes are necessary in the case of an altercation

current stance on the wedding stance: zira would have a beautiful elaborate wedding gown and Ivy would either have a simple dress or a pretty suit. i think zira would be the bride and get the really elaborate walk down the aisle, but ivy would get one initially to get in place at the end of the aisle so they both get their princess bride moment