#Robert Wands
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newyorkthegoldenage · 8 months ago
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George S. Kaufman (left) and Moss Hart, veteran co-authors of stage successes, with Hart's wife, Kitty Carlisle, at the Stork Club, March 30, 1948.
Photo: Robert Wands for the AP
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ihatebrainstorm · 1 year ago
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[Medicine]
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"The Caduceus. Commonly mixed up with the Rod of Asclepius."
Guys I think it'd be really funny if Pharma and Ratchet had the same voice
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physiqueandfantasy · 1 year ago
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I finished the Wands suit! I'm so happy to make it this far. I still have 3 more Minor Arcana suits to finish but I'm really happy with how these have ended up. The models all come from my collection of physique photography from the 50's and 60's.
If you'd be interested in buying my tarot deck once its finished please sign up for my Tarot Newsletter
IG: PhysiqueandFantasy
Please do not steal or repost my art without my permission.
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comparativetarot · 11 months ago
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Knight of Wands. Art by ​Robert Riedel, from Darkness, Earth, and Light.
Signifies travel, and progress. The Knight looks forward, intelligent and knowledgeable, yet ready for battle and full of fire. She carries a blank banner, holding only allegiance to herself. This refers to new ideas and inventions.
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til-the-casket-dropss · 2 years ago
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Me seeing a bunch of tiktoks about Americans bringing guns to hogwarts:
That’s so unrealistic most Americans don’t even like guns and definitely wouldn’t need one if they had a wand why is every conversation about Americans about guns
The American on the set of Harry Potter:
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tonyrossmcmahon · 8 months ago
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How to summon up the Devil
How does one summon up the Devil? There is no one definitive method of going about meeting Lucifer in your bedroom. But there’s equally no shortage of advice going back over two thousand years. The 1970s was a decade obsessed with horror, the occult, and Satanism. In 1975, when I was a 12-year-old at secondary school, an art teacher took time during class to tell us exactly how to summon up the…
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demigodofhoolemere · 24 days ago
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Why are there official character wands you can buy for literally every character who was ever onscreen for one even just minute in Harry Potter EXCEPT for Fudge who was in multiple books/movies in a decent-sized role as the Minister of Magic and was played by beloved British icon Robert Hardy. I don't care about Fudge but what if people me really like Robert Hardy as an actor and want something of his character for the sake of it. Did they ever think about that.
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rwpohl · 6 months ago
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die gläserne zelle, hans w. geißendörfer 1978
*
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thetemplarknight · 8 months ago
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How to summon up the Devil
How does one summon up the Devil? There is no one definitive method of going about meeting Lucifer in your bedroom. But there’s equally no shortage of advice going back over two thousand years. The 1970s was a decade obsessed with horror, the occult, and Satanism. In 1975, when I was a 12-year-old at secondary school, an art teacher took time during class to tell us exactly how to summon up the…
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ssalmonn · 1 year ago
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the suit that makes you go ?!
also what does this have to do with assassin’s creed if it has “fast driving” and “machine gun recoil”
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>OWO-branded high-immersion electronic suit that lets you RP super realistically
somebody's gonna get stabbed in-game and fucking cum in real life
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newyorkthegoldenage · 1 year ago
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125th Street is lit up for Christmas, December 13, 1954. Photo taken from the New York Central Railroad station.
Photo: Robert Wands for the AP
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lavendergoddesstarot · 2 months ago
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*Collab Reading with @sayhoneysiren *
𝙒𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 48𝙩𝙝 𝙡𝙖𝙬𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙥𝙤𝙬𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙨𝙨?
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Choose a specific situation.
Pick a pile/pictures.
2ND PART of READING for Pile 1 & 2 HERE
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Pile 1:
#38, "Think as You Like, But Behave Like Others": This can be challenging especially if you are someone who feels like they have to speak their mind or argue your opinion with others. But sometimes keeping your opinion to yourself is the best way to go. This allows you to gather information from others first. It also allows you to remain a mystery. People will not know what's going on in your mind or what to expect from you if you keep you opinions silent while moving like others to gain info. You can also avoid unnecessary arguments with others (You may want to avoid discussing politics this holiday season lol). Play along to gain insight, no matter how hard it is to bite your tongue in this situation.
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Quote from book, 48 Laws of Power "If you make a show of going against the times, flaunting your unconventional ideas and unorthodox ways, people will think that you only want attention and that you look down upon them, They will find a way to punish you for making them feel inferior. It is safer to blend in and nurture common touch. Share your originality only with tolerant friends and those who are sure to appreciate your uniqueness" - Robert Greene
Advice: King of Wands:
Join the fun (or appear to)
Be fun loving & free spirited
Don't take things/others opinions too seriously
Take on the challenge
Remember to be your own leader & have your own mind (even if you have to pretend to fit in for awhile)
2ND PART of READING Pile 1 HERE
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Pile 2:
#26, "Keep your hands clean": This law is not saying to get other to commit crimes for you lol. But rather remain an 'angel'. For example, don't jump into getting revenge because sometimes it will make you look like the bad guy. By choosing the high road, the other person remains the bad guy. Position yourself as the good girl/person. Don't associate with people who drag you down or make you look bad. Try to stay away from things that may come back to bite you later. If you do have a mishap, be mature about it & apologize. You don't want to be known as a criminal or untrustworthy person/brand.
This law is also associated with the cat's paw. Meaning if you must, get others to do your dirty work for you. (Take this however)
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Quote from book, 48 Laws of Power "You must seem a paragon of civility and efficiency: Your hands are never soiled by mistakes and nasty deeds. Maintain such a spotless appearance by using others as scapegoats and cat's-paws to disguise your involvement" - Robert Greene
Advice: Queen of Swords:
Use your intelligence
Assert yourself & voice your standards
Be Honest. (especially if you're a terrible liar like me)
Plan things carefully. Do your research
Use your logic
2ND PART of READING for Pile 2 HERE
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sebsxphia · 5 months ago
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me too, he’s so husband shaped 🥹💗
shopping lists.
robert ‘bob’ floyd x reader.
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→ summary: you rush to the shops after work to do a quick food shop, but bob floyd was not on your shopping list.
→ word count: 3.3K.
→ warnings: mentions of food, supermarkets, feeling hungry and fluff, fluff, fluff.
→ authors notes: my description of the supermarket is based off uk supermarkets, so i apologise if there’s inaccuracies to us supermarkets! this also hasn’t been proof read. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌
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Bob was starving.
He cursed himself under his breath as he drove back from base. He had the driver's window in his baby blue truck rolled down and his forearm resting on the side, his fingers pushing through the sticky summer air as he drove. Air conditioning alone wouldn’t keep him cool, as he still wore his flight suit from training earlier that day. He could feel how the ring of sweat around his neck was sticking to his collar, but he simply didn’t have the time or willpower to shower and change on base.
It had just gone five o’clock in the afternoon and he had gotten off later than he expected. He would’ve already had a small meal to keep him going until dinner by now, but low and behold, when he awoke this morning, as the sun was only a crack along the horizon, he realized he had no substantial food in his fridge.
Bob was a planner. He would do his fortnightly shop routinely, but something came up at work and it had simply slipped his mind. The only thing he could do now was drive as fast as he could to the supermarket, slip in, whisk around the aisles in record time and drive back home to cook something up in under an hour. He had another early start the next morning and as always, he had a routinely early bedtime.
Being a pilot made his reactions lightening fast. This would be easy for him.
As he pulled into the car park and zoned in on a space, he noticed another car also going for the same spot.
You were inches away from the space and although he was in a hunger-fueled rush, being the ever polite gentleman that he was, he let you go for it. Through the glare of the late afternoon sun reflecting off your windshield, he couldn’t quite make out the person driving, but he saw how you politely lifted your hand off the steering wheel to motion, “Thanks!”
Bob responded in turn with his wave and warm smile. He drove a little further forward past your car to find another space and the reflecting sun moved against your windshield to reveal you in a clearer light. You had the sweetest little smile as you thanked Bob. Your lips curled up to meet the creases in the corners of your eyes and your cheeks were a sweet rosy colour.
As he drove away and around the corner of the car park, Bob chewed at the inside of his cheek, still with a small smile twitching on his lips. He had a small hope that he would see you inside, only because he wanted to let you know that he was more than happy to give you the spot.
No other reason.
He was pulled out of his thoughts about your sweet smile as he felt his stomach grumble furiously. After doing a loop around, he managed to find a spot at the opposite end of the car park. He of course cursed himself again under his breath for going shopping at peak hours after everyone had finished work on a weekday, but he only blamed himself. He didn’t blame you. You were simply there first.
The almost freezing blast of air conditioner on his face as he entered the supermarket, was a welcomed change to the ever-growing humid air outside. The tiny, blonde baby hairs on the back of his sweat-coated neck stood up momentarily, as the icy air flowed down and through his flight suit. He felt himself cool down almost instantly. He pulled up with a shopping cart and started with fruits and vegetables at the front of the store. He was desperate to move fast, but his boots were heavy and searingly hot with every step he took around the aisles. That was the only spot on his body that the air conditioning could not reach.
As he came to the end of the fruits and vegetables section, he turned to reach for the tomatoes when suddenly a flurry swooped by him. It caught his attention instantly and he whipped his head around, with his torso moving inwards towards the tomatoes to avoid bumping into whoever had just swept by him.
It was you. The same person in the car park who he had given his space to. He observed as you descended the cheese and yoghurt aisle.
A small lump got caught in his throat and he swallowed thickly, as he watched how your sundress swished around your bare calves. He couldn’t help but let his cobalt blue eyes from behind his glasses, glance over you. Bob was raised right by his mom. He was respectful and well-mannered, but the simple and undeniable fact was, that you were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on. Even from the glow of the cool light down the food aisle, it could not diminish your luminescence.
He reached his slender index finger up to his glasses and pushed them up his nose ever so slightly. The prior sudden movement had caused them to jolt down the bridge of his nose by a centimetre.
As you walked straight down the aisle and turned to face the cheese selection, the delicate material of your sundress moved back into place to frame your body. It rippled over each curve of your figure and Bob’s heartbeat doubled in time when he caught sight of your soft belly in your sundress. He sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth as he wondered for a fleeting second, how soft your belly would feel to hold when his face was buried between your thighs.
He registered the smile creases in the corners of your eyes. The same ones that he noticed first in the parking lot and how they narrowed to read the label in front of you. Your eyelashes fluttered against one another as you blinked against the glaring light humming above you. As you raked over your options, he watched how your teeth grazed over your bottom lip and chewed nimbly at it. The same habit he had.
He needed some cheese and yoghurt himself, so perhaps he could catch you there.
Bob meandered some meters behind you and acted as if he was choosing his yoghurt option. He already knew what he needed. The same yoghurt he’d had for the past five years, but he was drawn to you. Like a moth to the radiating flame.
He cocked his head behind him to glance in your direction and you had already moved down the aisle to assess your next grocery choice. He took his multipack of yoghurts, placed it in his cart and wheeled it around to stand by you, again acting as if he was evaluating his cheese choice. From behind his glasses, he took another sideways glance. You were performing a balancing act of holding your shopping basket’s flimsy handles, holding the cheese in your other hand and somehow holding open a small notebook and crossing out the presumed item, with a pen.
At a glance, Bob saw how inside your notebook was filled with lots of little scribbles, and crossed-out parts and as you went to close it, the front cover was decorated with sweet little stickers.
“Jesus Christ. That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” He thought to himself.
As you went to slide the pen back into the elasticated band, it slipped from your balancing act and slid along the dotted tiles of the supermarket, straight for Bob’s direction. It hit the sole of his boots and he heard your voice for the first time.
“Ah, shit.” It was muttered under your breath with annoyance, but he thought your voice sounded like sweet honey.
Before his thought process could catch up to him, he wondered if you tasted like sweet honey.
You spoke directly to Bob this time, as you scurried over and bent down to pick up the pen by his boots. He caught a fleeting glance at the swell of your breasts, resting in your sundress.
You laughed out faintly with your apology. “I’m sorry, my mistake—”
As you moved too quickly with embarrassment to pick up your pen, your flimsy shopping basket was swinging and the cheese you were holding also fell out of your grasp.
“Ah! Fuck.” You quietly cursed again to yourself, or so you thought.
Bob had caught your second string of curses to you accidentally dropping something and he thought it was rather cute.
“Here, let me.” He chuckled to himself as he squatted down to reach for your cheese and pen.
Both now standing upright, he handed your belongings back to you and felt how the palms of your hands were as soft as butter against his fingertips. You looked at each other directly and now without the glare of your windshield, he could finally see every delicate feature that made up your beautiful face. He thought that you were so pretty.
You went to open your mouth and speak, but your words got caught on your tongue. This kind stranger was incredibly handsome. He looked smart with his clean-shaven face and his dusty blonde hair parted neatly to one side, with a thick swoop. His rounded glasses didn’t have a single smudge on them and his cheeks were round as he smiled at you, although it still didn't take away from his strong cheekbones and firm jaw.
You blinked in a flurry as you took in his build. You were accustomed to seeing pilots around here with the air base being so close to town, but it was rare to see one in what you presumed was a flight suit of some kind. It was deep forest green in colour and harmoniously blended against his striking eyes from behind his glasses. It wasn’t tightly fitted, yet still, his broad shoulders and firm biceps were flexing against the coarse material. His thighs stood strong with his heavy boots planted firmly against the tiled floor. He was tall and practically towered over you, but he respectfully kept a distance between you both.
“I’m sorry again, thank you.” You smiled bashfully at him. Your eyelashes were still fluttering against one another and your rounded cheeks were dusted pink.
Bob couldn’t help himself. He grinned as he shook his head and politely rejected your apology.
“No need to apologise, Ma’am. It’s all good.”
Suddenly your eyes widened and your eyebrows raised with them.
The glimmer from the overhead light in the supermarket made your eyes sparkle with such an inviting glow.
“Oh! You were the nice guy in the parking lot! You let me take your space!” You pointed your finger towards him. His truck was significantly higher than your car and you were only able to get a glance at his face from behind your windshield.
Bob let out a chuckle and waved his large hand in front of him, diminishing the idea. He further wanted to wave off the ever-growing flush of heat that was creeping up from his chest. It flushed over his neck and cheeks and sat right under his glasses. The blasting air conditioning had once again failed him and his chest, neck and cheeks were now flushed warm.
“Oh, hey. Not at all, it wasn’t my space. You had it, fair and square.”
You giggled in response. His respectful and polite demeanour had your stomach feeling as though a million and one butterflies were fluttering through you, making their way up through your heart and coming out of your mouth with sweet giggles.
“Alright, thanks again though, I appreciate it. I was in such a rush after work. Always the way, isn’t it?”
You laughed again and the sound flowed to Bob’s ears, making his playful smile reach the tips of his ears.
“Tell me about it.” He agreed with a grin.
You flashed a last beaming smile at Bob as the conversation between two strangers in a supermarket came to its natural end and you turned around to continue following your shopping list.
That’s what he thought.
As you turned down the aisle, you once again cursed at yourself for not being more forward, flirtatious, or whatever it would be that would land you his number. He was gorgeous. Undeniably handsome. And he was so stupidly charming and polite.
You turned on a quick heel to see if he was still there, but he had disappeared and you were left alone in the chilled aisle, with nothing to comfort you but your notebook and the static overhead lights.
Bob too mentally scolded himself for not asking such a pretty sweetheart like yourself for your number. As he watched you turn away, he chewed on his bottom lip, curled his fists tightly, released them and then walked away.
He was a gentleman. He would not harass someone if they didn’t show a sign of being interested in him. But he was sure you were. He had a sharp and watchful eye, and he saw how rosy your cheeks turned and how your chest stuttered slightly as your breath got caught in your throat. But he was pulled out of his battling thoughts but his stomach grumbly furiously at him again.
He whisked down the remaining aisles to finish his shop, still with the hope of a fleeting chance to see you again, but he couldn’t ignore what his body was telling him. As he checked out, tapped his card on the machine and wheeled his shopping cart out of the store, he still had both his trained eyes on his surroundings. Just in case there was a single chance, a perfect moment, where he could catch you. Bob had been extremely methodical about his choices in life and he only ever perused something if he was certain. He had never been so utterly and completely sure that you were the one for him.
He fished his truck keys out of his flight suit pocket and just as he was about to turn the key in the door, he remembered.
“Fuck. Tomatoes.”
Bob didn’t need a list. It was all written down mentally and he rarely forgot things, but he remembered that as he was about to reach for the tomatoes, you came by earlier in a flurry. He would’ve called it fate if he ever had a chance of seeing you again.
“Fuck! Tomatoes.”
You groaned and threw your head back in annoyance. It was on your list, sitting on the next line down under cheese and then you remembered why you forgot it in such a fluster. You slammed the boot door of your car back down, locked it shut and headed back inside to grab the final item. Your feet moved quickly along the tile floor and you turned on your heel to find the stack of plump, rosy red tomatoes in front of you.
“Hello again.”
The familiar voice made the tiny baby hairs on your neck stand up and a row of goosebumps rise on your forearms in tow. His smile radiated warmth as it crinkled up in the corners of his eyes. He stood tall over you, still in his flight suit, but again you didn’t feel intimidated in the slightest. You felt a true sense of calm and safety wash over you.
Your lips parted to gasp with happy surprise at seeing him again, before they curled up into a relieved smile, mirroring his own.
“Hello again.” You repeated back to him. “I forgot tom—”
“I forgot some tom—”
You both spoke in unison, before snorting out a quiet laugh between yourselves.
“Apologies. You go.” Bob gestured towards you and the vegetable stand.
“I’m going to make a sauce when I get back home, but I completely forgot the main ingredient.” You waved it off with another giggle, yet still, you did not attempt to reach for said important ingredient. You simply stayed facing him with a gleaming smile.
Bob’s mouth watered at the sound of your homemade tomato sauce. His stomach still growled at him from inside, but he also felt how it twisted and turned on itself with exhilaration. He pictured coming home to you after work, sitting down together at your dining table and sharing the homemade sauce. You were, without a fault, the only person he had ever truly envisioned a future with and he couldn’t repeat the same mistake as before.
He nimbly chewed at his bottom lip, failing to notice how you were also doing the same, as he mentally prepared his next statement.
“That sounds, delicious. I hope I’m not oversteppin’ here, and please tell me if I am, but I’d love to have y’ number, Ma’am. I’d love to try some of y’ homemade sauce, if that’s okay with you?”
Bob was not an overly religious man, but he swallowed thickly and prayed with every hope that the last part of his sentence didn’t come across in the wrong way. It felt longer than mere seconds to receive your response, but he breathed out a short sigh of relief when he saw how your eyes crinkled up into an animated smile to match his.
“Yes, yes! I’d love that. Please, let me get my book…” Your fingers were trembling with giddy anticipation as you worked to open your bag and reached for your notebook. “Uh…” You flipped through to find a clean page and when you landed on one, you gestured it towards him. “Here you go.” You gushed.
“Thank you.” He began. “I’m Bob, by the way. Bob Floyd.”
You mentioned your name and he felt his heart flutter at how pretty it was. By how eagerly you had accepted his proposal to exchange numbers, he could see that you were just as into him, as he was with you. And so, he let his true feelings become known.
“That’s a real pretty name, sweetheart.”
You sucked in a harsh breath between your teeth and let out a bashful, “Oh…”
The sweet name that he had just called you, made your legs nearly twitch and tremble on the supermarket floor.
His long, slender fingers curled around the pen as he scribbled down his number. Your notebook and pen looked so small in his hands.
When he offered it back to you, you wrote down your number in a flurry and tore the piece of paper out from the binder. You handed it over and he tucked it into the top pocket of his flight suit. You thought that that was the hottest thing you have ever witnessed a man doing.
Bob Floyd, as you now knew him, had seriously gotten into your head and clouded any reasonable senses.
You both exchanged some further light conversation, still with Bob shamelessly and sweetly flirting with you, before you both picked up your tomatoes, paid and left for the car park together. He insisted on walking you to the car to ensure that you got there safely, even though it was still broad daylight and when he left, he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.
You both went back to your separate homes and cooked your separate meals. As you were about to get into bed you sent Bob a text, the taste of your homemade sauce still dancing on your taste buds.
“this weekend, would you like me to show you how i make the sauce? would you like to come to mine? x”
You were caught by surprise when your phone dinged with a message notification moments after.
“I would love that, thank you for the invite, sweetheart. Can’t wait :-) x”
Bob lay in bed that night thinking about how to tell the story of how you both met at your wedding.
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taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @unmistakablyunknown @flames-thebitch @birdy-bat-writes @thedroneranger @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend
tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @floydsglasses @fridamoss @floydsmuse @bobfloydsbabe @laracrofted @hangmanapologist @rhettabbotts @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @auroralightsthesky @cherrycola27 @withahappyrefrain @sugarcoated-lame @senawashere
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comparativetarot · 11 months ago
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Four of Wands. Art by ​Robert Riedel, from Darkness, Earth, and Light.
Symbolizes stability and firm foundations. There is a sense of harmony and balance as well as completion. A time of peace and contentment. A time for quiet self reflection.
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babyjakes · 11 months ago
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devils roll the dice.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinkmas 2023
prompts | sex tape + medfet
pairing | hitman!robert pronge x innocent!reader
warnings | extremely dark, the darkest thing i've ever written (we've entered dead dove do not eat territory; please heed ALL warnings.) canon-level mature themes: kidnapping, torture films, murder. implications that reader will be killed. robert is cold and ruthless. innocent!virgin!reader. filming of illicit sex tape. reader is blindfolded and gagged. restraints. medfet elements: robert's little setup is giving vintage white tile exam room, exam table, stirrups, those gd black gloves, speculum use. clit focus (puff puff content incoming.) vibrator. multiple forced orgasms. squirting. overstimulation. mocking and degradation. robert puts a cig out on reader's leg. written in 3rd person idk.
word count | 1,485
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an | i'm kind of sitting here like wtf, ,, what is this and how did it come out of me lol. a little nervous to post, but i trust you guys to make responsible decisions about the media you consume!!! i'll probably never write something this fucked up again but for whatever reason it was just flowing out of me tonight folks, please again i'm begging you go read the warnings, like a second time through wouldn't hurt lol, and i hope you enjoy!!
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Bringing its bitter end to his lips, Robert used one hand to draw in a deep breath of his dwindling cigarette, the other lazily holding a black magic wand in its designated place. He was nearly an hour into the day's filming session, and his subject was reaching a level of exhaustion and misery that made her more annoying to play with than anything else. But knowing he needed to milk at least a little more footage out of her before putting her back under and calling it a day, the man kept at the task. He tried to remind himself that he should be enjoying himself; considering the kinds of commissions he generally had to choose from, this particular case was a treat. A pretty little virgin, as soft and pure as the early spring rain, with the most stunning body the criminal had ever had the privilege of defiling. He could spend another thirty minutes at his station, watching as all the life and dignity were drained out of his poor little victim like blood dripping to the cold tile floor.
Through the musty cloth rammed between her battered lips, the poor girl's cries were escalating as her tormentor swirled the curve of the wand's slick bulb over her burning clit. Robert knew what her worsening wails meant; with a callous grin, he pulled his cig from his mouth just in time to press its smoking end to the girl's inner thigh as she came. With the howl she let out, he was thankful for the buffer the gag provided. "Noisy little bitch," he laughed as her juices sprayed out against his gloved hands. "That's it, slut. Fucking take it."
Glancing at the camcorder sitting off to his side, Robert considered his options. As much satisfaction as he derived from seeing how many orgasms could be wrung out of the poor thing before her body knocked her out as an act of mercy, his sadistic tendencies were getting bored of the monotony. Tossing the used cigarette to the floor, the man slowed the wand to a stop. He rolled away slightly on his stool, tossing the condom that was wrapped over the toy's head into the large black trash bag sitting in the center of the large room's floor. This far into his career, Robert had his methods down to a science. There was a way to keep everything clean, everything untraceable.
It was the whole purpose of his "worksite"; it provided a secure, controlled environment for the entire job to take place in, from start to flatline finish. The "set" was by far his favorite portion of the space, and understandably so, as it's where his sick imagination got to run wild for hours, days on end. And his clients were just as enthusiastic about the vivid stage he had put together for their subjects to shine on. It was somewhat inspired by a vintage gynecology office. He had the classic off-white exam table, equipped with a daunting pair of metal stirrups that were always positioned just a little wider than what would be comfortable. A sturdy set of restraints were of course a must, and to make sure the camera picked up on every agonizing detail, he had installed an adjustable surgical light overhead that could be aimed and drawn in to illuminate any area or action he chose. He hadn't struggled to gather all the tools and instruments he could ever want, either. A few of his buyers were licensed professionals themselves, opening the door to acquiring inventory from the big-name brands in bulk.
The other corners of the room had their designated uses as well: one with a filthy mattress for the unconscious victims to waste away on as heavy drugs pumped through their systems, another with large plastic sheets covering the floor, walls, and ceiling where the poor souls were hosed down (inside and out) before a bullet to the temple inevitably ended their long days of suffering. But most of their waking hours were spent on that dreaded padded table, the very spot where Robert's most recent capture was using the few moments he spent away from his station desperately trying to regain control of her breathing.
He returned to his position swiftly after switching out his soiled pair of black gloves for fresh ones, not wanting to waste any of his or his client's time. The sight of the girl's abused sex was enough to make the man drool; it had been quite some time since he had seen such a marvelous-looking cunt, so glorious in its messy destruction. Knowing he should share the beautiful sight, he took the time to adjust the camera, zooming in from a full-body shot to focus solely on the spot between the victim's legs. With the humiliating inspection he was preparing to perform, he wanted to be sure his buyer got to see each drop of come the poor girl let out, every twitch and spasm he would pull from her helpless body.
"Now let's see here," the man breathed as he brought his gloved fingers up to gently spread out the ruined-looking pussy before him. Noticing the way his subject winced as her puffy folds were pried open, he couldn't help but laugh in dark delight. He drew his attention to her throbbing clit, noting how much it had grown in size from all those unwanted orgasms he had forced out of her. Its hood was completely retracted, leaving the poor bud exposed to the open air. In a moment of perverted curiosity, Robert pinched the hardened nub harshly between his fingers, earning the prettiest sob he had heard from the girl all day. He chuckled once more, rolling and pulling at the knot of flesh for a few more seconds of additional torture before finally moving his hands away.
"What do you think? Should we try for one more?" he mused mockingly as he grabbed a plastic speculum from one of the drawers built in beneath the table, unwrapping it and tossing its trash to the side before pausing to grin deviously over his victim. Glancing up at her head, he realized it was still covered with a black hood he had put on her at the beginning of the shoot. The buyer had requested for her to be blindfolded like this for a decent portion of the film, offering the explanation that she was "afraid of the dark," and that he wanted to see her in as much pain and fear as humanly possible. The hood had served its purpose for the day, but now, Robert wanted the poor girl to see each and every way he was going to be violating her body in real time. In one swift motion, he reached up and pulled the pocket of fabric away, exposing her stunning tear-stained face. "Hi sweetheart," he greeted viciously. Just as he was hoping, her cries worsened as she saw the dreaded tool in his hands. He had a certain liking for holding up the devices he was preparing to use to see his victim's reactions; after all, he got off on fear and dread just as much as his clients did.
"Time to open up this pretty little cunt and see what kind of damage we did," the man enthused as he forced the tip of the instrument into the girl's drenched opening. By now, she had been well stretched out and ruined by her captor's horrific methods. Grappling with his usual lack of restraint and self-control, Robert had barely made the drive back with the girl tied up in his trunk without pulling over and popping that perfect little cherry on his own time, without a single camera properly rolling.
Turning the speculum as it was fully inserted, the man took great pleasure in squeezing the handle to force the tool open, each tiny click that sounded only stretching the poor thing's aching walls out to a further, more painful degree. "There," he sighed in satisfaction as the last notch was reached. Pulling his hands away, he gave himself and the camera a few seconds to enjoy the view of the girl's milky insides, so worn and sore from the days of torture she'd endured.
"Alright. One more," he finally hummed, using his gloved fingers to collect some of the plentiful slick dripping from the speculum before dragging them up to find that adorable little button he loved bullying so much. Her fading sobs were revived in an instant, her throat growing hoarse from all the screaming she'd done. But as much as she cried, Robert was determined to get one final orgasm from her before putting her back under for the day. After spending so much time making that pretty pussy as puffy and sensitive as possible, he deserved to see it coming all stretched out painfully over his instrument of choice.
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thatfrailsoul · 3 months ago
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– Autumn's fallen leaves
tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, )
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"The princess out of school", Edward Robert Hughes
Each year, time and time again as their leaves fall, the trees show us their courage. Their incredible strength to let go of a part of them that no longer serves them. Even if it took them so long to nourish them and grow... They let go of everything, accepting and embracing this needed end. Gifting themselves a chance for a new beginning, full of growth and better health.
They are preparing now to do it once again. And as life and its cycles guides them... It tries to guide us too this time. It tries to help you... to let go of something. Something that is only weighting on your tired shoulders, slowing you down.
Take a deep breath, give yourself a needed moment of reflection and rest. Wander through this painting, through its details... Which one caughts more your gaze? To which part of the painting it belongs to? Pay attention - it is showing you where your message hides and awaits.
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These days have been... a little harsh on me. It was difficult to bring myself to fight it and endure it, even though I so desperately wanted to make it through. So this reading, these messages, speak right to my heart. Giving me a needed reminder and moment of reflection. And I hope it will help you too..��
I had this reading in mind for a little while, but wasn't quite sure. At least until I've received a request from the kindest soul exactly about these same thoughts and concerns. It was the needed (gentle) push for me to do it, so I deeply thank the one who requested this reading.♡
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– Pile One,
the queen of swords, the emperor, the four of wands
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There is so much control, so much presence within you, in the way you choose your life... But in that strength and power, if looked at closely, one can see the shades of fear, of desperate need...
Every little detail was already planned, analysed. Every outcome is expected, good or bad. Every path is already prepared so it can change its course in case of an obstacle or its end... Everything already leads to that one specific goal and outcome. The one that you imagined, perfectly pictured, for so long in your life... That it just can't be otherwise, it just can't pass you by. Not this one.
You are giving constantly to this so much work and intention, so much of your mind and heart, that even the slightest deviation feels like the whole world, your whole life, falling down.
You don't know what else you can do, how else you can make it more secure and successful, more perfect in your eyes... Or perhaps in the eyes of others... And it is consuming you, the pure stress and fear of just a thought that things might not work out.
It is all changing, shifting, day after day, in every area of your life. It is all evolving, and not really in a direction and way that you would've choose, in those that you would feel comfortable to be and live... And the only remaining thing, project and situation that is so important and indeed so powerful to give you back that control on your life, helping you to regain your balance back... Is becoming strange. Sometimes too slow, sometimes too sudden. Sometimes too stagnant or too confusing and dark. It is slowly but surely using all your back up plans, without slowing down, without showing you its horizon and its end... Making you afraid of the moment in which you won't simply have any other idea, opportunity or choice... While the path will continue to evolve, leaving you behind with that little that remains of yourself after all these sacrifices...
But is it really changing so much, this path? Is it really being ruined by everything you try? Or were you the one that made so many deviations trying to avoid all the obstacles and catastrophies that you thought you saw and needed to don't let closer to yourself?
Because there is an incredible power within you. Power of will, of hope, of patience and courage when it comes to protect yourself and your desires and dreams. A power strong enough to clear out a path as you will walk through it. But also... Enough to destroy it, if only you convinced yourself enough of it.
And this is something unique, not at all so easy to find in us, not so easy to learn and use. And when we, desperate and afraid, find this power within us... We tend to use it to protect ourselves from the obstacles and opponents of the outside, instead of using it against the thoughts and feelings inside our heart and head... that have much more power over our journey, its ups and downs, and sometimes their end.
This is indeed for you - this goal, this dream, this journey. It's not only you who wants this outcome, but that goal wants you too, that desire wants to be yours.
It is the right path, you are on the right path. It is the safe one for you, even if so many times you expected the worse and tried to flee.
There weren't any problems impossible to resolve, or obstacles too heavy to remove. There was only you who made a "mistake" of thinking that you never could be able to face those things or do them. There was only you who had so much passion and desire, conviction that it is for you, fused with that fear and uncertainty still present within you. There was just this mix of certainty and, ironically, confusion. The inner knowledge of what you want but confusion on how to get there, if you even could.
There was just this strong, incredibly powerful, courageous heart and mind. That, confused exactly like you, tried their best. Focusing more on avoiding and finding new routes. And not on showing you, teaching you, how you could've make it work regardless, following your original plan and decision, without sacrifices and changes that you felt forced to make.
Now it is already done. And it's just fine the way it is. It's not worse nor better. It wasn't the wrong way. It was just different. You tried and you felt it. You felt deep down in you that the way you chose again and again, perhaps was not quite the easiest one...
But now, today, in this moment, you have once again the possibility to choose how to do it. You have a chance to stay, to not run away. And to try to do your thing, how it feels right for you, and not how it seems more safe.
This journey is safe and right one for you, for who you want to become, regardless. So start to go through it with the same way that desired you would. Use your knowledge, your confidence, your power of choice. Not to avoid things, to escape and hide in hopes of finding another opportunity somewhere somehow... But to stay tall and strong and, gently, fight it. Showing this world, those people, this environment and to your own self, that things can and do work differently sometimes.
Showing and reminding all of you that it is not always the journey that changes us, but sometimes we are the ones to simply remember how much it means for us, without holding back. Without giving up.
P.s. Let me know if you chose this message and how it felt to you, if it resonated at all..♡
And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) you can find out more about it here!♡
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– Pile Two,
the four of cups, the queen of swords, the empress
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It is quite easy to find, to constantly notice, all the things that are not working out no matter how hard you try. It is quite easy to remember all the things that you pictured, all the things that you so ardently wanted... and that never really manifested in your life.
It is easy to focus on them because it's so hard to ignore them. To ignore that pain, pressure, frustration that you feel in each moment of your life... when all you ever wanted was to just be safe, living a good and peaceful life.
So no one can tell you to don't do it. No one can have a say on how you should feel as you go through so many problems and challenges in your life now. But... Your heart and mind can and will still do it.
They will show their tiredness and sadness through the emptiness that you feel in your chest. Through the fog that is overwhelming your mind and making your thoughts so difficult to follow or find. They will show it to you, they will speak to you in the only way they can: a tired body, that doesn't have anymore the needed strength. The needed health.
And you know it. You already see it in the way you react less and less to this life. At least on the outside... Because you are still human, it still hurts, you still feel so many emotions that explode bottled up in your heart.
You are becoming calmer, in the eyes of others, but you are slowly destroying yourself from the inside. The only place were you used to feel and be safe, and that now is not anymore able to hide you from the reality of your life.
It is difficult, impossible, to ignore all of this... And you don't need to do it. But in the same way you shouldn't ignore those little, tiny, good things that are still present in your days either.
It might seem so useless, to try to focus on them, holding onto them so desperately when they are so few... But they are enough for your heart and mind that just need to know that there is light and warmth too. It is so little, but it is exactly what you need to find that strength again. To find that hope and simple knowledge that things can indeed be different. That it will not always be this way. That this is not the end...
Or perhaps it is. An end of this long and troubled phase of your life. An end of this tiring fear. Perhaps it is finally the moment of change. A shift that will start first within you. In that mind that will realise a one little but important thing: you don't need to choose between seeing life all in black or white, you can see it and feel it as it is. Complicated, different, strange... Just real.
A life that needs and gives importance to both things. A life that doesn't ignore. Exactly like you shouldn't. Not the bad things, that you just need to feel in order to be able to remember, overcome them and in the future avoid... And not with the good ones, that even if little, are still a demonstration of how things can and will be different. How they can and will transform.
You gave a lot of yourself to all your problems, challenges, obstacles on your path... But you gave so little credit to your strength, your patience, your own existence and everything that transformed you in the incredible soul that you are now.
A soul that perhaps, indeed, can't be the one to resolve it all... But that can still make it through.
Just don't ignore it. Don't ignore those good parts of your life or you that are still here, that are still relevant, that are still deserving of the same acknowledgment, attention and trust as the ones that you give to those negative and challenging parts of your life.
P.s. Let me know if you chose this message and how it felt to you, if it resonated at all..♡
And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) you can find out more about it here!♡
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