#EVERYTHING IS A DOUBLE ENTENDRE

[eregar]

like, for being largely a plot device character, Raphael presents some interesting characterization. only on a second run-through, after knowing more about him, do you start to realize how profoundly insecure Raphael is and how frequently he gives that away.

in his very first meeting with you, he constantly refers to himself as a 'devil'. he's not a devil. he's a cambion. which is a distinct category of its own and, power-wise, so inconsequential that they're not even considered a part of the devil hierarchy. this means that whatever power and prestige he does have (if he even has any, because the game doesn't really go into devil politics), he only has because his father is Mephistopheles. and he hates his father. yet he also can't help but embody a lesser version of his father. that same theatricality, same princely demeanour, same hoarding of treasures. even his 'red, horns, and wings' form is exactly like Mephistopheles's chosen form. he seems to hate his father because he makes him feel small, yet also undeniably looks up to his father because he uses the exact same facade. and once you notice this, so much of what Raphael does seems incredibly childish. He so desperately wants to be something more than Mephistopheles's cringefail son but can't stop centring his dad in everything that he does.

what a horribly human trait to have.

[evilphrog]

Poor girl has “the depression” so bad she’s been reduced to doing actual exercise in bed, instead of “touching her sword” to her dirty magazines.

[allthepandasintheworld]

i think the most fun thing about pocket (other than being a pocket main of course) is that im pretty sure i've been training my entire life specifically to draw this little goober. like im pretty sure they were entirely made specifically to my tastes and i love with video games do that for me thank you valve thank you deadlock

[crystallizsch]

Eel Jade… yep thank you for feeding my brain more thought, now I want to try eel….

hsbsjjsns ANON,, you’re welcome??? 😭😭😭🫶

now you’re making me want to try it too,,, i haven’t really had eel before i wonder what it tastes like (<- final last words before jade-)

[tsunael]

wolcred week |  4. 'broken / trust.'

She was a veritable tour de force– an absolute nightmare of a woman. Yet, despite what the bards might sing, she was just as human as any other.

-> part I.

-> cw: suggestive themes.

And he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

“Wait– Gods– I’ll be sick.”

Overindulging in drink and dancing on bloody feet had left a typhoon of a woman clinging to the bark of a pixie apple tree for a semblance of stability.

He halted his stride with a huff and readjusted his grip on their youngest charge to wait with waning patience. He had half-expected to carry one of them home, but not certainly not Ryne, though he heard Alphinaud and Alisaie had met with similar fates. Y’shtola had done him a service and seen to their care, as well as Urianger's-- and must be thankful, for that was one man he did not want to carry across the Crystarium grounds.

That only left their most important cargo to him– how lucky he was-- and if Tsuna did not get ahold of herself, he feared he would soon find himself out of hands. 

He looked on past the treetops, to the early morning sky peeking through the crystal dome to find a moment to wax poetic. “Destroyer of Primals, Lightwarden’s Bane... but a flagon of ale has not ceased to bring the Warrior of Darkness to her knees, I see.”

Tsuna shot a pointed look in his direction. “P-Piss off,” she droned, half-way between a hiss and a whine. "You're making it worse."

All he could do was offer his own exhausted smirk at her expense. 

It was true. Tsuna Wasaishi could fell all manner of beasts with enough willpower and sheer dumb luck, but the stairs to her chambers seemed her most daunting adversary yet.

Ryne had been put to bed, which freed his attention to better escort the stumbling woman into his chambers on the first floor to circumvent the climb.

She fell upon his mattress in a heap, looking at once grateful for sturdy ground.

“Off,” she mumbled. Her knuckles tapped the hard cage of her corset and drew his exhausted sigh. “Please,” she added, weakly. Even at her wits end she still found it pertinent to be cordial, and he had no choice but to oblige.

Tsuna slumped forward for him, pulling her hair loose and tossing it over her clammy shoulder to better offer her laces. The cotton of the cincher was damp to the touch, her skin still shone with sweat. He thumbed the laces, pulling them free from the centre-outward, and as he broke her free from the busk, and immediately she began to breathe easier.

He had to wonder why one woman would put herself through so much for such pain just to numb another.

She offered him a shy look from over her bare shoulder, muttering something so incoherent he could only barely piece it together. “... stay with me?” she asked.

He was struck by the blunt force three words could bring. It was not as if they hadn’t shared a night in the past. Even so, he stood from the bed, only to prostrate himself before her, if only to make her more comfotable.

“I would not leave you in such a sorry state.” It was the truth, though he chuffed to hide from his own trepidation. “It’s all right. You needed this.”

Tsuna closed her eyes agreeably, and nodded, softly humming in perceived content as he fished for her ankle under her dress’ hem. 

“You’re my dearest friend, Thancred. Y'know that, yes?”

His hands paused. He knew. Gods, he knew. They mapped each other's hurts like no one else ever would.

How many times had he found himself wanting to sit outside her door for that very reason?

Slowly, she picked up her skirts before him, and rose them high to aid in his task. Completely unabashed, she revealed to him the shapely, naked length of her legs for a show. His eyes were drawn down to the map of scales hugging her sides, then up– up to the lazy, amused smile curling her lips. She looked down on him, a supplicant, and a familiar heat rushed through him.

“I could tell you anything,” she whispered, softer. “Couldn’t I?”

He bit his cheek, tilting his chin down, trying to focus on the matter at hand. 

“Of course.”

Thancred’s hands smoothed up her firm calves and carefully removed the battered heel from her right foot. Her soles were angry and blistered from her hours of revelry, and so with the same care he removed the left, though it was there that he lingered. The thumb on her calve began to move in easy circles to loosen the band of muscle grown taut with pain and overuse. Tsuna drew in a sharp breath and squirmed in his hands, and the hem rose higher still.

He crept up past her knee, and settled on her lower thigh before he stopped himself. 

He had broken her trust before, and he would not do so again– even if she were more than willing. 

“Keep going.”

Her hand clasped over his own, and drew it upwards, his thumb reaching beneath her skirts, to dip into the crease of her thigh for a tantalizing moment. He knew what she wanted, and he would visit all seven of the Hells if he admitted he wished the same. The Gods only knew how long he had been bereft. 

It took all he had to retract his hand, despite her protests. “I won’t,” he muttered firmly under his breath. “Not like this.”

“Why?" Tsuna sat upright, lips twisted in hurt. "Gods– Warm me.” He looked away, rueful, only managing to raise her frustration. “You said so: I need this–” Her voice fell soft, desperate. Her hands clasped his face, stroking lines across his cheeks in order to pull him in. 

She was looking for another way to drown, and he would not have a part in it.

“It wouldn’t be the first–”

“All the more reason not to make the same mistake twice,” he interrupted, pulling her hands from him. “Another time. Another place.” And he would.

A kiss was pressed to her palm, and she was struck silent.

He used the opportunity to stand, to begin the ritual of shucking his coat to prepare for his own rest, when without so much as a sound, she reached for his now-naked hand, and despite it all– despite everything– his thumb ran careful circles over her knuckle.

She needed something more than just a warm body beside her, and it was something he could not provide.

[ndostairlyrium]

Six-Song Soundtrack Tag Game

I was tagged by @shivunin and I'm totally tagging you back so you can do it as well 👀💛 thanks dear!! This was fun!

Tags under the cut

If you're tagged, make a new post with links to music and/or lyrics describing the following:

An event that defines your character's past

How your character sees themselves

How others view them

Their closest relationship (platonic or romantic)

A major fight scene

End credits song

-

From the Graveyard with Love (Ankh)

Full playlist

1. Voices by Alice in Chains (youtube | spotify)

Anytime I listen Voices in my head Everybody listen Does yours say what mine says? Calling out the names, faces, uniforms I've worn And all that is gone Always climbing, to fall down again Holding onto everything that's not what it seems

2. In Our Wake by Atreyu (youtube | spotify)

Who will we leave in our wake? Will I be more than flesh Can I leave more than bones Will these words have an impact Can they be carved into stone? Force yourself to remember Or choose to forget You can't leave this world as a lion Or just fall asleep in it

3. Watch Me Burn by Atreyu (youtube | spotify)

Aim for my chest, take deep breaths Thought you had me beat, but I still cheat death Mix my blood with the ashes Spark into a flame 'til it crashes down You carve my name in the casket Get the matches If you set it all on fire I'll be fighting 'til my last breath Even when the flames grow higher

4. Wounded Healer by Beyond The Black (youtube | spotify)

I believe in you to embrace My soul, so tortured I find relief You give me peace In silent grief You'll find the answers

5. Battle Drums by Kayzo, Atreyu (youtube | spotify)

When these dark days last a lifetime And the pains hangs round like a plague in your stomach And these heartbeats turn to flatlines You better start running I can hear the battle drums coming

6. Male di Miele by Afterhours, The Afghan Whigs (youtube | spotify)

E non è dolce essere unici Ma se hai un proiettile ti libero Gli errori veri son più forti poi Quando fan finta di esser morti lo sai

6.1 I Want It That Way (cover) by Henry Smith (youtube | spotify)

-

Le Tag: @underneathestars @star--nymph @herearedragons @bruxbea @sparatus also, if others want a tag just reply with a 💛

[mortalscience]

Law and Order Criminal Intent - s01e20 - Badge Bad guy: Those pension rules are a bunch of crap. Goren: My partner's with you on that. Eames: My old man got caught in the same bind.  Bad guy: No kidding? Eames: Except he had to pay back nearly 50 grand to the city. How'd you get away clean? Bad guy: "Clean" nothing. I gave up a good job. All I got now is the pension. Goren: Hasn't kept you from living large, Phil. What have you got in here? Prime rib. Wow! Is that a lobster wiggling around down there? Bad guy: Get out of my stuff! Goren: What is this? It's a $50 bottle of wine! Eames: Here's what we think, Mr. Legrand. You and your double-dipping buddies were kicking back your wages to Mancuso, but when Sherwood started sniffing around, Mancuso got nervous.  Goren: He needed to throw Sherwood a bone. You guys drew straws. You came up short and now your buddies are taking care of you. Eames: But one resignation wasn't enough for Sherwood, right? So your buddy boys did something about him. Bad guy: You guys… I wanted to make dinner for my girlfriend, all right? I couldn't afford what she likes, so she gave me the money for these groceries. That's who's taking care of me. So now that I've humiliated myself, why don't you take your Mutt-and-Jeff act off my property? Eames: Gee, I need a hankie.

[boag]

Will never have my mind blown harder than when I learned that the middle C on a piano is “C4” and that’s why DOOM said “middle C” with the explosion sound after . He was so fucking big brained RIP king ❤️

[adinafay]

Alone and Together

Blessings are a curse I hold dear And burdens I carry with grace. Still I wander, unbidden, with choice.

Tonight’s choice is action; Paving the way for tomorrow And each day thereafter.

I come with you to lose myself And find what little I am: Spread thin and gathered whole.

Mindless intricacies following the path, Lead by such complex simplicity, To journey alone and together.

[abimee]

quite literally there is too much to say and pick apart about Tock in endwalker and the fact that her bullshit lore i just made up for the sillies wounded up aligning with canon concepts and therefore what went from ''silly child with accordion hears the songs in others heart'' became ''entelechy child singer of hope meets with the singer of despair at the end of the universe and gets through to her in a way that nobody else ever could"

[luckyfiona]

“ you can’t or you won’t? ”

                  ❝ —���  Oh. Hm. ❞

                                          ( Uh-oh. )

Lawless Lucky talked a big game around the bonfire last night. She wasn't too oblivious to pick up on the fact that her being scandalized and upset by the boys' violent sides was beginning to grate on them. So, when all of the boys were talking about the gruesome things they'd like to do to the people who made their lives hard in The Other Place, she forced herself to laugh along, and even took the opening to spin a tale about how she was planning to poison her old employer's food. And, oh, those rotten pirates? Well, she would do the same to them if she had a chance.

So busy seizing on the moment, she didn't consider that she would actually have to put her money where her mouth was.

It would shatter the illusion of Neverland as her luxurious, peaceful, happily-ever-after paradise if she had to see any real carnage with her own two eyes, much less deal any of it herself. But here was dear Peter, ever the altruist, granter of all her wishes, suggesting she come along to their next raid of the Jolly Roger. Lucky's pretty sure he knows this is out of her comfort zone, if he's paid any attention to her — and he does, of course he does. Why else would he go through the trouble of bringing all of these troubled souls to the island if he didn't empathize and care about all of them, right? She can't imagine any motive but love and sympathy. — It's funny, considering how anxiously, meticulously sensitive she tries to be to his boundaries. There was something maybe endearingly boyish about his disregard for hers.

She reasons that she should be grateful for his investment in keeping things fresh and interesting. This is what a sensible, healthy relationship looked like, right? Balancing energies was a major tenet of Celtic magic— it was the key to harmony and prosperity. A passive, supportive person worked best with a person who was a little more... challenging. It would be too stagnant or too chaotic any other way. She gives a fond half-smile to her love, her true love, convinced he's only looking out for her best interests. She would find a way to explain to him that this doesn't really interest her... another time.

               ❝ Well, I suppose I would... ❞ 

Lucky? Morally opposed to it? No sir, you've got the wrong lassie. You must be thinking of that prude from Chicago, Fiona Comisky, who used to dote and cry and sermonize Nate Larsen any time he got injured in a fight with some low-class brute he should've run away from. She had no qualms with clodhopping bullies who started barbaric fights. Didn't find it tasteless in the slightest.

She was opposed to tagging along for much more modest, supportive, team-playering reasons, to be certain. The same reasons why she declined Nate's offer to teach her how to use a bow and arrow: why would the Princess of Neverland get her dainty, dignified, not-at-all-labor-calloused hands dirty learning how to hunt when her boys got such a thrill out of slaying those innocent animals?

                ❝ But why bring a girl along to steal all of the attention?                        I'm not as strong or as sneaky as you. I may ruin the... Element of surprise. Or... distract everyone when they have to keep me out of harm's way. And there’s really— there's so much I could do back here. I thought I should make some sort of victory banquet for the boys to come back to. ......Besides... ❞

Lucky's fingers sidled over to his, tips brushing over his knuckles, as if timidly asking permission to show tenderness before making any sudden moves. Peter was a bit strange about physical touch. She could never tell if he was enjoying it, or if she maybe wasn't doing it right. When he didn't immediately swat her away, she gingerly placed her palms in his, intuitively careful not to scare him away like a baby deer too shy for human touch, or startle him like a scorpion ready to plunge a stinger into her at any moment. She has experience with his type. She has nothing if not patience and willpower to break through to them. She has hope that one day she'll be able to fully embrace him. If she's really as lucky as everybody says, maybe she'd be able to fully-fully "embrace" him.

                ❝ I love when you tell me all about your thrilling adventures. You get such this 𝓅𝓊𝒸𝓀𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝓉𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓁𝑒 in your eye... It's the same one you had when you first found me— the one that I saw and thought, 'Oh, there it is: my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫. At last, I can see it!' ❞ 

She boldly ventures to show a little more affection while she pleads, but not enough to push him too far, just enough to remind him that he can touch her back any time he's ready. (If he's rallying her to come out of her comfort zone, maybe this is a good time to encourage him to be a little more adventurous, too.) Her fingers, ever-so-lightly cupped over his hands, gently lace themselves into the spaces between his. She's not naïve enough to believe she's going to get out of raids forever. She just wants to experience feeling truly loved and close to him, just one time, before she has to see him at his absolute nastiest.

           ❝ Oh, Peter, won't you please let me see my 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 again when you fill me in later? ❞ 

( Won't you please let her be so lucky as to skip out on this? )

╳ — 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ! // ACCEPTING.

[nighthawkes]

forgot to show this off. at the concert they were giving away different colored bracelets with lyrics on them to everyone lined up ahead of entry time

these lyrics are from “Leave the Engine Room” lol

[geekwiththegoggles]

Bro the Jungle Cruise movie was like, it went real dark man. Like. DARK. Soundtrack was good tho.

[reinemichele]

At first I thought these were the same post and I was So excited to read a nice juicy analysis of my fav roman track 😔

[saygeadvice]

The metas in this universe give me life.

Our lord and master Neil Gaiman knows what he's doing while writing these scenes. The callbacks, double entendres, and the long game are strong with this one!

The romantic implications of improper use of apostrophes

A short, little meta on rings and apostrophes...

Ok, remember Mr. Arnold of Arnold's Music Shop and his thoroughly relatable reasons for never wanting to go to one of these annoying Whickber Street Thingamajigs again? The second of his reasons, in particular? Note who the camera cuts to when Mr. Arnold brings up "improper" use of apostrophes:

Crowley's little eyebrows and squirming, as he is thinking about how he is guilty of improper apostrophe use just the day before-- "technically", as they'd say. Mr. Arnold bringing up apostrophes is a wordplay clue to hidden language-- "improper" apostrophes in shop signs, which is to say in shop language and names. There's only one scene in the series where that's a thing. It is also the only one that would justify the Crowley reaction shot in the Mr. Arnold scene... and the implications are pretty romantic.

It's this scene:

When Crowley adjusted the name of the bookshop when Aziraphale called from Edinburgh, he changed it in such a way as to denote a sense of ownership through use of apostrophes. Crowley knows that the place is really called A.Z. Fell & Co. and he could have said that or just his usual way of referring to the place: "booK.shoP." The choice to answer in such a way as to reference to whom the bookshop belongs when he suspects that this is likely Aziraphale calling is a nod to the our car/our bookshop acknowledgement that they have going on.

Because Aziraphale has acknowledged that the bookshop is theirs, it belongs both to "Mr. Fell" and to Crowley, but the wordplay joke is that, when spoken aloud, you can't hear where the apostrophe falls. (That you refer to where an apostrophe goes as to where it "falls" also makes this an even more amusing word joke.)

Meaning: Fell's Bookshop sounds identical to Fells' Bookshop... the latter of which would, of course, denote that the bookshop belongs to more than one person who happen to share the surname of Fell.

Crowley gets squirmy when Mr. Arnold brings up apostrophes the next day because he's thinking about how he was subtly referring to himself as Aziraphale's spouse when Aziraphale-- wait for it, my fellow word nerds-- gave him a ring (on the phone) from Edinburgh.

Aziraphale apparently heard it as intended-- or, at least is on the same page-- because, as we looked at it in other metas that I'll link at the bottom of this one, Aziraphale's use of "la jardiniere" in the French he spoke to Crowley ties to the French cooking term "a la jardiniere," which has a specific definition that resulted in Aziraphale subtly referring to Crowley as his spouse.

Aziraphale also gave him a flirty little smile and that knowing "but you understood me" after saying so, knowing that Crowley heard more than what he had translated back:

Not to mention to ring a bell... Crowley ringing the bookshop bell on Aziraphale's desk when he came back in 2.01; Shadwell on exorcising demons by "bell, book and candle"; God's cheeky interest in Pavlov's experiments in S1... the sexual euphemism that is to "ring my/your bell"... Mr. Arnold mentioning signs in shop windows and Crowley was looking through the window into the bookshop when Aziraphale rang the bell to wrangle the angels and demons, furthering the ring-related wordplay. A sign doesn't have to be paper hung in a window relaying information-- it can be your partner saying he's "had quite enough" and trying to take control of a situation. A sign of things to come.

I'll leave you with the paralleling scene from 1.01 when they first talk after having their romantic evening ruined by the start of Armageddon. Crowley gives Aziraphale a ring on the phone while what is in focus on Aziraphale's side of the conversation is his angel ring. When they meet the next day off of this phone call, church bells are ringing in the scene. Wordplay inspired by the visuals, as well as the first use of ring (phone, communication)/ring (jewelry) in the series:

I doubt it will be the last. 💞

Metas about Aziraphale's French in S2:

[beansprouts]

was testing out my new astarion cosplay and my friend asked first if I was samwise and then if I was david bowie (from labyrinth presumably)

so, you know, that's how it's going 👍