#I DESIRE TO BREAK HIM!!!!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
oh-katsuki · 2 years ago
Note
OOOOOH OKAY OKAY OKAY
How about Tsukki + enemies or rivals to lovers + there’s only one bed?
only one bed trope...... smirks. side note but i think tsukishima is MAAADEEE for enemies/rivals to lovers. like seriously he just... it WORKS with him. i need him.
cw: it's an almost HATE FUCK (they don't fuck), heavy makeout, mentions of painful biting, tsukishima says some shitty things abt reader's past sexual endeavors, idk they grind a little
"you know, if you'd just fucking move over, we'd have more room," you spit at him, kicking his leg beneath the covers.
"you mean you'd have more room," he corrects, rolling his eyes and turning to face away from you.
poor planning is an unfortunate thing, even more so when it directly inconveniences you. that's what led to this situation, poor planning.
you and tsukishima are both involved in your university's respective sports division. kei plays on the volleyball team and you are on the cheer team. it's not often that your team gets sent on their away games to cheer, but this is the semi-finals and the university saw fit to send you all to stand and cheer court side.
if you had your way, you'd be miles away right now, probably fucking around with someone on the baseball team. but no. instead, you're sat next to the one person on this earth who genuinely makes you hateful, and you wouldn't call yourself a hateful person by any means.
arrogant, self-involved, and snarky beyond belief, tsukishima kei is the worst person you've ever met. you're certain that he'd say the same thing about you and for once, you don't mind that he thinks you're probably a slutty, selfish, bitch. funniest thing about it is that he also happens to be in your major and the two of you constantly remain tied for top of the class.
you'd like to say that it was the school that fucked up. you'd like to say that they happened to accidentally put you and tsukishima in a room with just one bed, but that's not true. the truth of it is that the two of you just happened to be stupid enough to miss the bus and, after spending a day catching the odd bus to get closer to sendai, have ended up stranded in a middle of bum fuck nowhere inn with one single room and a western style full sized bed.
"why don't you sleep on the floor?" you snap.
you hear tsukishima sigh behind you, feeling the press of his back against yours as it expands, "because then i'd be uncomfortable?"
"ya know, shouldn't protecting my decency come before comfort?" you retort, speaking over your shoulder.
you feel him sit up, rolling so that he's propped up on his elbow and facing you. when you turn, it places you face to face with his chest. you can smell his deodorant on him and he's so close that you're certain he can feel your breath on him.
"i think it might be a little late to protect your decency," he snaps, wrinkling his nose and twisting his face into a nasty expression. "shouldn't you have some left to do that?"
you scowl at him, rolling your eyes. "asshole."
"so you've mentioned."
you both lay down facing the ceiling. your shoulders are pressed deeply into each other and his warmth bleeds into the points of contact like water. every time he inhales, you feel it and it spurs you to do the same until your breathing is synced up.
"why'd you have to miss the bus too," he sighs, putting his hand over his face.
"i could say the same thing," you huff.
"yeah, i bet you can't fuckin' stand being here right now, right?" he sits up again, sneering. "too fuckin' pretty and popular to be sharing a bed, yeah?"
"shut up," you warn.
"bet you'd rather be with those baseball dickheads you fuck so often."
"shut up, kei," his tongue has always been sharp, but he's seriously pissing you off. not that you regret anything you've done.
"you fucked your way through all of them yet?"
you sit up, indignant at what he's saying.
"you paying that much attention to my sex life, tsukishima?" you sneer back, narrowing your eyes. "you like thinking about who i fuck like a pervert?"
you tilt your head as he presses his lips into a line.
"come on, tell me," you press venomously, chest to chest with him. "you think about how i spread my legs for them? touch yourself wishing it was you? get fucking real, kei. you only hate me because you want to fuck me that badly."
you're face to face with him now and you can feel his breath across your face. his chest heaves with anger, as does yours and the obscene words you've just said. then, you kiss him.
he immediately starts kissing you back, hands coming up to rest on against your hips. he bites at you first, dragging his teeth across your bottom lip and you laugh at the display, tugging at his shirt to get him to take it off.
there's a desperate hunger inside of you, clawing to feel his skin, to feel the warmth of it pressed against you. you hate him so badly that touching him almost hurts. it makes you want to scream in the best possible way. you want to make him cry, to see him crumble under your fingertips. there's this terrible desire to consume him entirely.
when his chest is exposed, you quickly pull yourself over his hips to straddle him, letting him sit up to meet you halfway. the expanse of his chest presses against yours and you groan under it's warmth, rolling your hips to sate the desperation rising in you. kei grows hard underneath you, pressing against your inner thigh as he drags his tongue down your neck and bites hard on your shoulder. you yelp, laughing to yourself. who'd have thought kei had it in him.
"was i right?" you tease angrily, pushing him backward hard enough that he bounces. "you think about me fucking all those other guys and wish it was you, kei?"
you tongue down his stomach, feeling the ridges of his abdomen, which heaves harder the lower you get. under your chest, you feel his cock stir.
"i fucking hate you," he grits his teeth, color painting his cheeks.
"yeah?" you say, pressing your mouth to his bulge. "well, i can't fuckin' stand you either."
360 notes · View notes
myrkulitescourge · 6 months ago
Text
can i just say, it still makes me feel a little crazy how astarion, come act 3, still can’t quite put a name to his relationship with his partner, but he WILL tell them he wants to keep them both safe.
he won’t say i love you just yet but he will say forever, for good.
411 notes · View notes
roomba-mangga · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Curry pt. i // Curry pt. ii
yeah alright okay. fine. cool. alright. yeah
265 notes · View notes
kanjichris · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"why don't you want him to know how much you love him?" "that's a little personal. he knows." "uh-huh."
#interview with the vampire#iwtv#armand#the vampire armand#loumand#louis de pointe du lac#daniel molloy#alice molloy#must preface that NOBODY IS ALLOWED TO USE THIS FOR LDPDL HATE PURPOSES#even though louis (well both of them lbr) clearly had communication and commitment issues#armand directed a play that would KILL louis all because he was self conscious that louis didn't love him enough#anyway this is just one interpretation of the 'alice rejected daniel's proposal' convo scene#cause i see soo many people ask 'why did armand say all that' (and have wondered so myself)#even though we cant rule out the possibility that devil's minion happened in the past and that this was armandaniel history tease#armand could be projecting his choice re: louis and the trial onto alice's choice here#similar to how daniel was projecting his feelings about paris onto claudia in this same episode#i just think this would make sense thematically w armand's arc this season#(ie revealing what a deeply insecure and selfish and fucked up lover he is under his guise as a 500 yo devoted and caring husband)#armand 🤝 lestat: i will love you and i will hurt you. if i cant have you then i will break you#[plays under your spell by desire] whats the difference between love and obsession and desire? do you think this feeling could last forever#c.txt#mine#'she didnt think she could trust you' sounds like a YOU problem buddy#and then armand realizes he was wrong too late and bro was SCRAMBLING#the start of something beautiful aka failmarriage!!! :D
158 notes · View notes
arsenicflame · 5 days ago
Text
It's a time-honoured tradition- every time Sam comes across Izzy (and Ed) in their travels, he asks Izzy to marry him. And every time, Izzy turns him down.
At this point, Sam is asking more for the sake of it than any belief Izzy will ever say yes, a remnant of childhood dedication touched with 30 years of heartbreak and regret- though even now, a small part of him still holds out hope. Sam's promises have only got more extravagant over the years, from a job as his first mate, to a captaincy, a fleet at his command, a whole fucking island if that's what Izzy wants- but he knows it isn't though, not really. If Izzy was ever going to agree to marry him, to leave his life and go with Sam, it wouldn't be for anything Sam could offer him. Izzy never did care for flashy shows of wealth, for a ship or to be captain. The only thing that ever mattered to him was loyalty given, and loyalty shown in return. 
It all comes to a head after Stede left and came back, after Izzy lost a toe, lost his leg. Sam hasn't seen him since before things with Ed started to really slide off the rails, before stress permanently set into the lines of Izzy’s face. So, when he sees a dishevelled man with a hoof for a leg in a no-name port, he doesn't even consider the idea that he might know him. It's only when he turns towards him, and Sam catches a glance at those oh too familiar tattoos, he realises this is Izzy, his Izzy, that stands before him.
Knowing Izzy's discomfort with pity, he doesn't treat him any differently than he would in years gone by, positioning himself in Izzy's line of sight before approaching and sweeping him up into a bone crushing hug. 
“Israel-goddamn-Hands!” he exclaims, as Izzy grumbles back a begrudging “Samuel-fucking-Bellamy”, a tradition almost as old as their friendship itself. Izzy might not hug him back, but he can’t keep the corner of his mouth from twitching, just for a second.
(If Sam holds Izzy a little tighter and a little longer than usual, well. That's his business)
By the time Sam lets go, most of the crew has appeared in the town square, drawn in by the commotion. They may have given Izzy his leg and welcomed him as one of them, but still there’s an underlying tension, with nobody quite ready to set aside everything that happened before the Kraken. Seeing him cosying up to an unknown man sets everyone on edge, unsure whether to come to their first mate’s aid, or to assume that they've been betrayed once again.
When Ed sees that the yelling was Sam, his hand goes tense where it's held in Stede's. He knows the routine, has seen it more times than he can count, but as he watches them part he realises that this is the first time in a long time he's unsure of what Izzy's response will be.
Knowing that something’s different, knowing that Izzy's feeling vulnerable already, Sam doesn't go for the same flashy proposal he’s been giving for years. He doesn't promise Izzy the world, he doesn't cause a scene (or, any more of a scene than he already has, anyway). He looks at the fractured man in front of him, takes his face in his hands, and says the exact same thing to him he said when they were little more than boys. “Israel, I have to ask you. I know what you'll say, but I have to try. Come with me. Marry me and sail away with me. I'll keep you safe”
And Izzy… hesitates. He glances over at Ed, at Stede, and says to Sam “...We’re staying in port for a week. Ask me again then”
That's the moment Sam knows there is something deeply, horribly, wrong. He's not just looking at an Izzy who got seriously injured in a fight and is struggling to cope, this is something so much bigger than that- and that Ed has something to do with it. Izzy wouldn't even be considering leaving if he didn't. Whether it was negligence or something more sinister, Sam doesn't yet know, but he intends to find out.
#i feel like the little paragraph about the crew is real clunky and out of place but i wanted some kind of establishment of where those#dynamics are at. its important that the crew is something for izzy to consider in his decision; but also that their relationship isnt so#solid he would stay for them alone; yknow?#im sorta aiming for a s2e5 era but like. early in those themes. he cant be all sorted yet i need him to be struggling#anyway this is part of a much larger scenario in my head that im never ever doing anything with but i wrote THIS bit in a daze in like. jun#and i got thinking about it again and i think?? it holds its own as a 'hey think about THIS' snippet. idk you decide#youre welcome to interpret this as solo bellhands but in my head it Has morphed into sam/izzy/ed/stede#because i cant not put edizzy in things any more. izzy has two hands#i also think the comedy potential of one of your boyfriends HATING your other boyfriend is gold. 10/10 dynamic#stede is mostly along for the ride in this but also i think they need him#aaaaand. the sam/ed bracket i think can only be closed in exceptional circumstances. i think they 'hate' each other too much#...which is WHY someones getting kidnapped!!! yay#anyway its all irrelevant because ill never write it out. i can do silly chill things but thatll require work#nyxtalks#ofmd#our flag means death#izzy hands#israel hands#sam bellamy#bellhands#i wanna also say. the general concept of repeated sam proposals has been floating around my head forever#it used to be a more silly thing like i referenced at the start but. s2 gave me angsty feelings i guess#i cant not have izzy have feelings for ed right now which inherently adds layers to Any bellhands scenarios i think.#but yeah. its a Classic Bellhands vibe for me. sam seeing izzy at sea or on shore and asking him to marry him (again)#i like to do this with jackie too. i think i just want that man to be obnoxiously desired#(theres also layers of my personal hornigold era lore built into this but i hope it holds up without u knowing it. tldr. sam lost izzy by#being an idiot n fumbling the bag. thats what matters. izzy went with ed and sams been trying to fix it ever since)#i probably should have readmore'd this but i didnt think it was Quite long enough. or had a good break point. sorry <3
112 notes · View notes
iguessitsjustme · 7 months ago
Text
The fact that Yuan was in Lili's room when Qian found the ultrasound meant that Lili asked for help from her brother to protect her boyfriend from...her brother.
And the fact that she knew that their best chance to convince Qian and make sure that he doesn't kill San Pang is to get Yuan involved. To tell Qian on their terms before he can find out for himself. Since it didn't go to well when Qian found out about their relationship and Yuan just sat there and did nothing (god bless him that's still my favorite scene). Qian was mad for a looooong time after finding out about their relationship.
Getting Yuan involved and also setting it up so Qian finds out while they're all in a relatively safe space but together while still telling him and not keeping things from him meant that Qian didn't stay angry for long. It also helped because as much as Yuan loves Qian romantically, he loves Lili as his sister. He is also protective of her but he's much more reasonable about it because he doesn't have the same family trauma that Qian has. Yuan can help smooth things over not just because Qian loves him and listens to him but because Yuan loves Lili and sees what makes her happy and wants the best for her.
This show is so good and I love the romance of it all but I just had to say something about how much I loved the siblingship between Yuan and Lili. Lili let Yuan into that home and in doing so gave herself something more than just a brother. She gave herself a friend that would help when she needed help and would love and support both her and Qian unconditionally.
135 notes · View notes
leajoyrambles · 17 days ago
Text
sorry to get angsty on main but I really wanna see a crossover fic where Five Hargreeves meets Bruce Wayne and the topic of, y’know, what would you do for your family, the morality of killing in a given context, etcetera comes up. And a bit of dialogue just going like
Bruce: But once you cross that line, where does it stop?
Five: It doesn’t have to stop — they just have to live.
39 notes · View notes
miniagula · 8 months ago
Text
sorry ghouls but the latest chapter of suitor armor is kinda making my neurons fizzle out
Tumblr media Tumblr media
like. do you Get It
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
87 notes · View notes
the-woman-upstairs · 6 months ago
Text
It’s just…so painful to watch Armand readily submit in order to obtain the love he so desperately craves. And while it’s most assuredly a manipulative tactic, it’s still one borne out of fear and desperation. He cannot lose this person he’s come to love and so will become whatever they want, do whatever they want just so they’ll stay with him. But it won’t be enough. No matter how much he acquiesces or seeks to control (himself, others, the environment), he won’t be able to make Louis stay with him in the perfect life, perfect self he built in the hopes of finally being loved. It will all crumble with Armand left alone in the rubble of what he created, the author of his own abandonment.
#this unfortunately hits way too close to home for me#let’s not even get into Claudia’s anger at never being enough#iwtv spoilers#interview with the vampire#armand#this is just me speaking from personal experience…but there is definite manipulation at play here from Armand#and I don’t necessarily mean that pejoratively- when you’re desperate for people to like/love you you’ll become whatever they want#or whatever you think they’d want and you give it to them so they’ll want to keep you around#I’ve done it so often with the people in my life- and make no mistake it’s also a survival tactic#you give someone what they want they won’t hurt you#and when that’s how you survive for years and years it becomes the default method of interacting with others#even with normal people who genuinely mean you no harm you revert to that people pleasing mode#as a means of control both external and internal#this is what i see armand doing- his way of surviving that he’s never truly broken out of#armand ceding coven control to Louis and curating the Dubai penthouse for Louis are part of the same pattern of behavior#and even tho it’s ultimately harmful and will only end badly for armand and Louis’ relationship#idk if armand knows how to not exist that way with someone he loves/desires#all of this also ties into louis and daniel#because of course Armand will lose it over Louis finding connection and interest with someone else aside from him#someone HUMAN no less#and I can see Armand taking out his anger on Daniel as a way of expressing his own frustration at still not being enough for Louis#breaking daniel’s mind in a desperate attempt to understand why this human could reach Louis in ways he couldn’t#not saying any of this to excuse Armand and his behavior obviously (I’m very upset and worried over the trial looming on the horizon)#but I do understand this impulse and how you’ll throw ANYONE under the bus in order to preserve your place with loved ones#it’s all horrifying but unfortunately I empathize#like even if Louis is right to walk out on him when he learns/remembers the truth of what happened to Claudia#I’ll probably still find myself saddened by Armand’s fate because I’ve absolutely been there myself#it’s a tragedy of his own making- his fear and desperation birthing manipulative and controlling behaviors#that ultimately result in your own abandonment#god this fucking show
44 notes · View notes
wildsaltair · 11 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
on my knees begging this man to save me from the clutches of desire
34 notes · View notes
greenerteacups · 8 months ago
Note
thoughts on Ginny and Harry as a couple?
There are a lot of people who find their romance in HBP forced. I don't think it's forced so much as underwritten, and the books don't get the chemistry quite right (though the movies certainly don't, either). There's potential, but they just don't get enough actual scenes of substance (besides Harry thinking she's pretty or feeling jealous of Dean) for a lot of readers to buy that they're not only in love, but deeply enough in love to break up, get back together, and wind up married.
That's not to say I don't see the appeal. There's a very cool scene in Book 5 where Harry's doing a woe-is-me-Chosen-One act, and Ginny effortlessly puts him in his place about it by reminding him that she was possessed by Voldemort at eleven, which is a rare glimpse into her character and also a great synecdoche for their relationship — Ginny is a grounding presence who, like Ron and Hermione, isn't going to be awed by his past adventures because she knew him before they happened. In that respect, Ginny's probably one of the few women Harry could feasibly wind up with, because he only ever seems comfortable around people (let alone girls) who can see past the Chosen-One schtick and treat him like a normo (see: Ron, Hermione, the Weasleys, Luna, Hagrid). True to type, he doesn't get interested in Ginny at all until she's ditched her celebrity crush and ceased to view him as an idol, because in his heart of hearts, Harry wants to be a normal boy, and it's stressed over and over that part of what he likes about his relationship with Ginny is how normal it feels. He kind of has a horribly supercharged version the celebrity dating problem: after the Battle of Hogwarts, anyone he meets is going to know him first as Harry Potter, Chosen One, Boy Who Lived, and Actually Fucking Resurrected Messiah of the Wizarding World, which is... I mean, it's possible that there are witches out there who could get over that, but Harry's not an extroverted guy, and I'm not sure how he'd go about finding them. Ginny's the one who's been there since the beginning, doesn't need anything about him or his past explained to her, and actually likes him for who he is.
When you look at it that way, it's not surprising he married his high school girlfriend. She's one of the few people still alive who doesn't see him as a demigod.
#in general I was never one to ship harry with anybody#what I wanted for him was a long quiet life and plenty of therapy#maybe some dogs. i think harry needs dogs and deserves them#The other obvious solution ftr — though not one I think Harry would take — is for him to marry a muggle#though again. you'd run into the problem of how you explain All That#which harry doesn't like to talk about and probably would want to talk about even less as an adult#plus also: harry loves magic. like he loves it loves it#the muggle world for harry is permanently connected with the dursleys and it would take years to break that association#which I just don't think he's going to invest#Harry post-BOH is moving to Hogsmeade or wizarding London or some other magical neighborhood and staying there forever#by the way this post is not anti Harry and Ginny! no hate on the ship I've seen versions of it that are very cute#but I just think their love story needed Sauce#there are also some really interesting posts I've found in Deep Fandom crackship blogs about h/g as Harry's sublimated desire for Ron#now I don't necessarily buy that reading. I don't think Harry is in love with Ron in the original text#I do think he LOVES ron and projects that love onto the Weasleys very quickly ginny included#and I think Ron is his soulmate platonic or otherwise in every universe#so marrying Ginny has like. Implications. vis-a-vis Harry's status as a Weasley and adoptive brother[in law] of Ron#like it's a full-circle moment where he becomes officially legally a member of Ron's family#which I do believe JKR had in mind. even though that basically means ginny's wedding becomes kinda... actually... about her brother...#it's weird basically. my final verdict is I wish H/G had been written by an author who was more interested in Ginny for Ginny's sake.#greenteacup asks
61 notes · View notes
lanternlightss · 26 days ago
Text
(thank you to @arson-n-quwubilder for the request <3 ! )
There is not a sight more fascinating to Venti than the image of his dear friend with his eyes sparkling, awed etched into every detail of his features, his mouth opened in a small “o,” as he takes in what lies before him—the food of the one, the only, Good Hunter!
Cecil’s fingers dig into the cuffs of his top. Points, to where Sara sets a Mint Jelly plate and an Apple Roly Poly onto the counter, turning to face Venti. He had done the same to the last few foods that have been taken away to those who had ordered them (a Satisfying Salad, Venison Steak, Moon Pie, and Crab, Ham & Veggie Bake, thus far.) He seems to be particularly intrigued about the Apple Roly Poly, now, though, asking Venti, “What is that?”
His eyes pull up, delighted to share—the food his children think of and create are extraordinary! “An Apple Roly Poly! It is made with apples, of course, and eggs, butter, flour, all coiled into one. A delicacy, for sure.”
“And—the green?”
“Mint Jelly,” and how, briefly, he wishes that those in Old Mondstadt could have eaten jelly, he thinks that Amos would have liked it. “it is made with those mints you keep seeing, and sugar. A very squishy, sweet food!”
“Squishy ….”
Cecil falls into a contemplative silence. Frets with Venti’s ruffles, and the buttons on his sleeve, his expression becoming something akin to a stilted wariness, determination the longer he thinks on his words. Venti, deliberately, pretends not to notice, casually humming a short tune to himself in the wait, and lightly tapping his foot against the legs of the wooden chair he sits on.
“Are there any other foods made of apples?”
Venti grins. “My friend, there are many. Northern Apple Stew, Apple Fritters, ehe, it is not a food, but Apple Ciders, and Candy Apples, Apple Cake, Apple Pie—”
“Apple Pie!?”
“Apple Pie!!!!!!”
“How is it made?”
“Oh, apples, sugar, flour, cinnamon, mmm.. butter too, and—” and they … they have everything they need to make it … right here, oh goodness, Venti from three days past thank you for not spending a drop of your mora! He stands from his chair (Cecil jumping, hand darting from his sleeve), it scraping across the stones, tittering just that slightest bit at the end. “One moment, beloved!”
“What—” He, too, stands, one knee placed onto the seat, his head swiveling to follow after Venti bursting into a run to the general goods shop, “What are you—??”
“One moment, cherished, one moment!!”
He is certain there are teal feathers and puffs of Anemo trailing after him in his sprint, hoping those are overlooked by the Vision hung at his belt, too caught in his excitement to get the ingredients needed to tweak that little quirk. It is normal to have feathers. Glowing feathers. Very normal, everyday thing that people have and do. Pay no mind to the fact that his Vision is not also glowing as brightly as the feathers are, it happens, you see.
Sliding up to the counter, bracing his hands on it, he pants: “Miss Blanche! Miss Blanche, good lady, do you happen to have flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon?”
Blanche, the lovely shopkeeper she is, is holding a hand to her mouth, attempting to hide a laugh. Venti considers this a success.
“Of—snrk—Of course.” She pivots on her heel, rummaging through the shelves positioned around her, meticulously and gingerly adding each item grabbed to the crook of her elbow. She sets them down just as gently. “That’ll be two hundred and forty mora!”
Venti has already brought out and dug through his pouch of the currency. Pokes at the pile, as he counts it in his head, and puts the needed amount into her outstretched palm, scooping the ingredients into his arms with his other hand (and, for fun, tips his hat very gentlemanly at her in a swish of Anemo—fun party trick, he should add, being able to concentrate it to a single point as so.)
“Thank you, Miss Blanche! Good day!”
“Good day to you, too!”
He waves to her, walking backwards, as he hurries to where an awfully confused Cecil continues to half-stand, half-sit. That confusion is merely amplified by Venti arranging the flour, milk, eggs and cinnamon on the table, tapping at the cork of the cinnamon when it is to his liking. Skips over to Good Hunter immediately after, his dearest spluttering, looking between the objects and him, scrutinizing both in a manner similar to that of when he is solving a problem.
“Miss Sara—”
“Let me guess: butter and sugar?”
“Heehee, caught! Yes, ma’am, if I could have those, pretty please!!”
She smiles at him, eyes softening. Ducks down to the cabinets, opening them, the hinges creaking softly. He thumps his fingers on the counter (in a pattern he remembers from the “drumming contest” that Bennett and Amber had him supervise), listening to the clink of the bottles.
“Here you are,” she sets them beside his hand. “Six-hundred-forty five mora!”
“Ooohhhh..” He tries his best not to visibly show his surprise, the pouch being rifled through again. “Six-hundred-forty five… ?”
“Six-hundred-forty five!”
That certainly is an amount for this all…
He hands over what is needed, snatching the butter and sugar, and shoving the marginally lighter feeling pouch into the hole of his shorts, for the meanwhile. He waves bye to Sara, as well, skipping over to Cecil—who is looming above the previous ingredients, hands to the sides of them, his face drawn into a slanted frown—and proudly presenting what he has. Cecil blinks at him, his expression transforming to a wide-eyed one, then scrunches his brows into a furrow, his lips thinning.
“Venti,” flops onto the seat, “my little song, my darling, my angel. Why did you gather this? Are we, by chance...?”
He shakes the sugar, the tiny specks bobbing in the bottle, swaying back and forth while he does. “Mhm! We can make Apple Pie!!”
That has Cecil shift to bewilderment, rising from the chair, swinging his gaze back to the table. “And everything is this… leisurely, to gather? All of it, in the market—“ he falters, going over each item once more, finding one, strangely, missing, “—all… well, almost everything.”
An eyebrow is cocked at Venti, Cecil placing his hands on his (also cocked to the side) hips, trying for a “disappointed” stance. A stance that is betrayed by the mirth in his eyes, simply bemused wondering behind it. “Are we to make Apple Pie without the Apples?”
Venti giggles.
“Do not fret, they are taken care of!!” His cape makes a satisfying swoosh sound, as he bounds toward his precious, clutching his butter and sugar close (it will not be spilling on his watch!) “And I know a spot where we will be able to put everything together, just the two of us”—he winks, braids and eyes flickering in their glowing—“if you could, the other..?”
Cecil moves a hand closer to the ingredients. “On it.”
First, the milk is placed under his right arm. Then, the eggs are gathered next to it, followed by balancing the flour and cinnamon on them. He continues to maneuver them, walking up to Venti, his arms crossed tightly, a part of his cloak draping over his left bicep.
Hooking a hand on that bicep, Venti urges Cecil to one of the alleyways. And, once it seems that no one is giving them attention, allows the swirling of Anemo to swathe them; looping strings of teal round and round, pressing into the skin and leaving them with fleeting prickles of buzzing. His braids lift into the air, the wind zipping past, accelerating, and he clings to Cecil as it all brings itself into, well, itself. Raising them and streaming them through the many, many winds of Mondstadt.
They whip by buildings and fields, fields and buildings. Ending pushed inside a door to a nice, little area in between, the enticing smell of the latest batch of pastries wafting throughout the room.
Cecil stumbles, slightly, knocking one foot into the other, when the Anemo dissipates. Venti keeps his grip on his bicep, stepping back the moment his friend is steady, and spins to walk by, carrying his items at an arm’s length while he proceeds towards the kitchen island, located dab in the middle of the room.
Footsteps edge closer to the archway of the kitchen, where it splits into two hallways—ones that Venti merely glances towards, noting Cecil with his hand braced on that archway, as he leans out to look down the corridors. He directs his attention to the items, then the drawers of the countertops, and the cabinets. The pie plate and bowls should be in the bottom ones, the measuring spoons should be in the far left drawer, and the measuring cups should be above them… hm…..
With a snap of his fingers, the cabinets and drawers are pulled open in a tug of Anemo. Meticulously, he grabs each one needed (medium sized bowl, colored blue, same with the measuring spoons, and the glass plate and cups—and, for extra, a rolling pin.) He sets these next to the butter and sugar, hands on his hips as he inspects everything.
A soft, frilly fabric is pressed to his cheek. He turns to see Cecil offering him a green, pinstripe cooking apron (a white bow wrapped at the middle), oh!! In a swift whoosh, both his corset and cape vanish, as he takes the apron into his hands and sets to tying it around his waist, exclaiming: “You found them!”—Cecil snorting at his eagerness, placing the ingredients he had held in his arm next to Venti’s, and undoing his belt, then vest, and snapping open the clasp of his cloak, to put on his matching blue, pinstripe apron as well.
“Alright!” Venti says, clapping his hands, “Let us get to work, yes?”
Cecil, eyeing the bowl, hums. “The Apples?”
“Of course, of course,” Giggling, he reaches to his beret, and, with a flutter of his hand, taps at the very top of it (the Cecilia and leaves bouncing.) His fingers dig under it, and flings it to the side; falling into a bow to catch it, thus revealing the six red apples that laid underneath it.
There is a pause. The Apples are plucked from his hair, being replaced by a hand, of which ruffles there til it is a disheveled jumble of strands—Venti leaning into each pat that passes with a grin.
“I should have known,” Cecil huffs, amusement laced in his voice. Venti is sure that when his beloved steps around him to get to the sink, his expression can best be summarized as “cat that caught the canary,” just about as pleased as punch at this outcome. Another “party trick” of his, one that never gets old in seeing everyone’s reaction to it!
A bit aways from him, water rushes from the faucet, spilling over the apples held under it.
Busying himself whilst Cecil does that, he arranges each ingredient from largest to smallest, and once that is done, picks up the bottle of sugar to regard how much is inside. From what he recalls of the recipe for this, it should be.. half cup sugar, two tablespoons flour, one teaspoon cinnamon, one egg, and all of the apples are accounted for already…. hm, hm, hm!
The apples are gently rolled into the flour bag, Cecil stopping them from going further with a gentle touch to their stems. Bumps his hip againsts Venti’s, passing by, to settle beside the right of him.
One hand going behind his back, the other gesturing towards what sits in front of them both, Cecil clears his throat, lowering his voice to a comical degree, “Shall we?”
Barking a laugh into his fist, Venti stands straight, rolling his shoulders back, clasping his hands at the waist. Lowering his voice, too, and nodding hard enough that it has his braids flailing into the air, “We shall.” (He will say, though, that they lasted a solid minute without breaking their characters—only breaking when Cecil had looked to Venti, whom was deepening his frown, and burst into cackles.)
And so they do. And so it becomes a mess halfway in (he is mildly surprised it had not when he had swirled the bowl of sugar, flour, and butter with Anemo, and had it spring out everywhere at the end—he had sighed when making the whipped cream, too, as Kaeya would have been a fantastic helper), when Venti, after rolling the dough, tucking it into the pie plate, and having wiped a quick streak of the apple juices on his hands across Cecil’s nose. Which had lead to Cecil mock gasping, running his hands through the leftovers of the ingredients and cupping Venti’s cheeks with them, which then to Venti dusting the bottoms of Cecil’s braids with sugar, which then lead to Cecil packing up flour into a shape of a ball and mushing it against him, and—
The kitchen will need … cleaning, most certainly. As will they, the two of them sat on the floor, snickering and chortling, nearly covered head to toe in contents and components.
Despite this, the pie tastes delicious, Venti thinks to himself, offering another piece of the pie pierced through a fork to Cecil, for him to bite and eat.
21 notes · View notes
angrybatart · 10 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Some veteran Sky Kid is screaming like a banshee while frantically searching for their moth.
88 notes · View notes
dxxtruction · 4 months ago
Text
Not to psychoanalyze (Yes, to do that), but given Armand's history, his only preconception of what love is, is to view it through pure desire. Love - and more broadly accurate, his life purpose for like half a millenia - as only he's ever known it, has only been experienced through transactional wish-fulfillment fantasies, of which he was the one typically sought after to complete such an exchange. And so naturally, in his own seeking, he replicates it. Though to some degree he also replicates the fantastical existence of fictional romances to compensate.
This lack of true experience of love without desire or fantasy, making his always unfilled 'objet petit a' - his object of desire - (a partner he desires a particular love from but does not receive to his fulfillment) - the catalyst for believing there is no other form of love to be had. That he can simply love the person, and be altruistic to their personhood, without them filling a role or desire for him, just would never occur. He's egotistical and overly pragmatic towards others by the fault of formative experiences denying him his own personhood. In being groomed into the object of desire, he no longer sees anyone else but as such. It's equal parts lack of self-awareness, meaning he simply has no way to counter-reflect upon himself the way one should behave, and developed coping mechanism, either consciously or unconsciously, taking on the role of those who inflicted upon him their desires to gain a sense of control over it.
In never escaping this cycle of love as desire, he always denies himself his full person, and simultaneously denies the personhood of others.
#tldr: Armand is ten trauma responses in a trench coat#the vampire armand#Armand#character analysis#IWTV#interview with the vampire#lacanian psychoanalysis? In my interview?#I'm NOT an expert by the way this is just for funsies#Also if he does love daniel and yet daniel gives him only the very thing he least desires and yet he still loves him after. That#would be like proof of a love beyond desire.#he might not realize this proof though or perhaps has a great anxiety about it's existence leading to cognitive dissonance#It would be proof as well if for whatever reason despite Daniel having every reason to hate him he does find something to love about him.#I think that kind of confrontation between them could lead towards a confrontation with the possible breaking of this cycle.#beyond daniel as well maintaining normal nonforceful noncommital relationships with others would just help him significantly#and I don’t even bring it up here but Armand falls victim to limerance I feel this involuntary obsessive affection towards someone’s#it’s to such that he values whatever can sustain this obsession more that the object of his obsession themselves#his deep fear of abandonment as only the immortal can bind another immortal to a sense of grounded place to surroundings#something tangibly like constant in a world that always and forever changes#to be abandoned by someone like you would be to be abandoned by the only world you can really know#that is if you need your world to be in relation to others and can’t actually concieve of yourself in it as a full self
32 notes · View notes
chronically-ghosted · 5 months ago
Text
ladyknightthebrave came out with a new video on Black Sails, which means it was time for my annual rewatch of Treasure Planet (I'm Still Here got me sobbing AGAIN if anyone wants to know) but now I gotta ask:
45 notes · View notes
pumpkinrootbeer · 6 months ago
Text
All of Revenge of the Sith, summarized:
Obi-Wan: I love and trust you, Anakin.
Anakin: No <3
Mace: Obi-Wan trusts you, Anakin.
Anakin: Opinion discared because Ive classified you as against me. Please forward my previous email to Yoda and get back to me about that council seat at your earliest possible convenience.
Yoda: mmm be a master, you will never be mmmm. melt steal beams, jet fuel cannot. mmmm. ignore that second thing I said, obi-wan cares very deeply abt you and are you still available tuesday at 6 for your next therapy session?
Anakin: Read✓ at 19:01
Padme: Obi-Wan loves and trusts you, Anakin. Just like I do.
Anakin: Not very gamer of you to not inherently validate my internal belief system :/
Palpatine: Obi-Wan hates ur loser ass lol. not like me tho I'm cool and always validate your internal beliefs (normal)
Anakin: I always knew he hated me, you're the only one willing to tell me the truth. thank God I never have to reevaluate my beliefs with you and don't have take any uncomfortable looks at my wants and desires. phew almost had to do some personal growth and acknowledge some things about myself thank God i avoided that
34 notes · View notes