#The Rondelles In Your Face

[punkrockmixtapes]

The Rondelles - Do It for Me

[astars-things]

ok so hear me out// ur dating thom and he takes u home to meet his family but say like his dad doesnt like you and hes like talking to thom abt it in french but u know french and thom knows u know so hes trying to get his dad to stop but his dad doesnt know u know french//

that was not explained well and my fingers are too cold to type with sorry

Omg yes I love this sorry about your fingers 

Mentions of swearing, body shames also used google translate 

“Babe stop being nervous” thom spoke to you as you put your suitcase in the back of the car 

You are meeting his whole family, you had met his sister and mom but not his dad or other family members 

As you both got in the car them had his hand on your thigh gently rubbing small circles 

“Y/n” you hear Jade yell as she ran up to give you a hug “umm im here” thom spoke offended his sister ran to you first 

Soon you all made it inside, you got introduced to most people 

As you were walking from outside where everyone else was, you made your way to the kitchen to get a drink 

But you were stopped in your tracks when you heard “elle est un peu sur le côté positif” she is a bit on the plus side  a strong male voice which didn’t sound like thom

You had a small look to see who it was, turns out it was Thoms dad 

“connaît-elle même le hockey ou est-elle un lapin de rondelle” does she even know hockey or is she a puck bunny 

"Fils, tu pourrais faire tellement mieux qu'elle, ne te contente pas d'elle" son you could do so much better then her, dont settle for her it was like a knife getting stabbed into you

“Dad shut up” thom seethed, but the damage was done you had tears falling freely down your face 

You went back outside pretending you never were inside “hey hun you okay” Chantal whispered rubbing your back 

“Yeah just a little overwhelmed” you hiccupped wiping your tears “jade go get thom” soon thom appeared in front of you 

He scooped you up in his arms and took you to his childhood room to talk and settle what ever it is upsetting you 

“You heard didn’t you” thom sadly looked at you as more tears poured out your eyes you nodded your head not having the voice to speak 

Thom pulled you closer holding you tightly, there was a knock on the door that pulled you and thom out of the bauble you created 

“We are having dinner but if you both what to stay In here that is okay” Chantal spoke as you hide your face in the crook of Thoms neck 

After a couple of minutes you spoke “I want to go home” you pulled away from the comfort of thom and looked at him 

“If you want to go home you can, I’ll book you a plane ticket for you and me” you looked at him shocked “babe stay with your family” 

“No y/n I really don’t want to be around my dad seeing as he hurt you” you couldn’t argue with him and soon started packing the small amount you took out 

“Its going to be okay” you made your way downstairs with you back pack and suitcase 

“Chantal thank you for inviting me, Mr Bordeleau if you’re going to talk shit about me do it in a language I don’t know” you smirk as his face dropped Chantal and jade both got up from the table to hug you and apologise 

Soon you are bords were on a flight home 

[all-the-things-2020]

Deeds Not Less Valiant - Chapter Ten

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Tala Pavan)

Word Count: 3280+

Rating: PG

Din and Grogu walked back from the shipyard toward their temporary lodging. It had hurt more than Din thought it would to leave Tala and Neeli alone on the Krayt. He told himself it was no different than saying goodnight at Tala’s door, but that was her home. Now he was leaving them on a sterile freighter.

“Maybe we should stay on the ship and let them have the apartment,” he said.

Grogu shook his head. “Na,” he said.

“Why not? It would give us the same amount of privacy and probably be more comfortable for her.”

Grogu shook his head again. “Nee. Kray. Ya.”

Din interpreted that to mean that Neeli preferred the Krayt. “You’re probably right. I’m sure Neeli is a little scared being someplace new.”

“Ya,” Grogu said firmly.

“So, what should we have for dinner?”

***********************************************

Grogu watched Din’s face carefully as they ate their meal. It was still a bit disconcerting to know that he was being observed, especially while doing something as private as chewing, but the kid wasn’t staring or anything, just looking. He still stopped and touched Din’s face now and then, as if to reassure himself that the helmet was really gone.

“You like the stew? It’s not too spicy for you?”

Grogu nodded enthusiastically and shoved another spoonful into his mouth. It was simple freeze-dried, reconstituted food but at least it was Mandalorian rations and not the bland mass produced stuff that was more commonly available.

When they were done, Din cleaned Grogu’s face and sat him on the bed while he removed and cleaned his armor. When he was done, he helped Grogu remove his own mail shirt and rondel and together they polished the tiny beskar.

“Always tend to your armor before you set it aside,” Din said. “Your armor and your weapons are your protection. You have to treat them with respect so they can protect you.”

Grogu nodded sleepily. A full belly and the armor cleaning routine always settled him down for bedtime. Soon they were tucked under the blankets and Grogu was snoring away. Din stared into the darkness, wondering how Tala was doing on the ship. Was she nervous, sleeping alone in strange surroundings? Was the ship making that weird ticking sound as the metal adjusted to the gravity and warmer temperatures on a planet? Was the air fresh enough?

He sat up. Grogu stirred a bit but kept sleeping. Din slid out from under the covers and picked up the comm link on the bedside table. He stepped to the far side of the room before thumbing it on.

*********************************************************

The comm link flashed green. Tala picked it up, her heart speeding up a little. “Is everything okay?”

“Um, yes,” came Din’s voice. “I mean … that’s what I was going to ask you. I just wanted to check in before you go to sleep.”

“Everything is fine here,” she replied. Neeli was sprawled on her back. “I fed Neeli and she’s sound asleep.”

“So is Grogu,” Din said with a slight chuckle. “I just … I couldn’t sleep without knowing that you’re okay.”

“That’s very sweet, Din, but I’m fine. I set the proximity alarm like you showed me and R5 is stationed near the hatch just in case. Neeli and I are perfectly safe.”

“I know you’re safe, I just .. I hope you’re comfortable. A bunk on a ship isn’t the finest accommodation.”

“It’s perfectly fine. Neeli knows this place, so she’s relaxed, and that makes me relaxed. And I know that you have your helmet off, since you’re alone with Grogu, and that makes me relaxed, too.” She’d felt guilty on the way there, knowing that because of her presence, Din was sleeping in his helmet. “You know, I think this is the first time we’ve spoken without the vo-coder masking your voice.”

She heard Din clear his throat. “Um, that’s true,” he said after a moment. “I … hope you like the way I sound without it.”

“I do,” she said. His voice was softer without the mechanical intervention, more rounded and organic sounding. “I like it a lot.”

“Um, well, I should let you get some sleep,” he said, flustered. “We’ll see you in the morning. Big day for you and Grogu.”

“Yeah, we should all get some rest. Good night, Din.”

“Good night, Tala.”

The connection closed with a soft chime and she replaced the comm link on the shelf beside the bunk. In the morning, she and Grogu were meeting with Bo-Katan and the Armorer, who both had some questions for the kid. She slid under the covers, careful not to disturb Neeli too much, and flicked off the overhead light. The calm blue hazard lights in the floor kept the darkness at bay.

*************************************************************

The Armorer was much more intimidating than Bo-Katan Kryze. For one thing, she kept her helmet on, and it was a fearsome thing with two horns jutting from the top. She also wore a furred cape over her armor and there was a gravitas about her that inspired deference. Tala could see why Din respected her so deeply.

“Din Grogu,” the Armorer said slowly. “You are come here before us to answer some questions in preparation for your training as a Mandalorian warrior. Do you understand?”

“Ya,” Grogu said firmly.

The Armorer tilted her head slightly. “Your vocal skill has advanced since I saw you last.”

Grogu looked at Tala. :Tell her I try really hard:

“He wants you to know that he’s been working very hard on it,” she said.

The Armorer nodded. “All we can ask is that you do your best, youngling.”

Bo-Katan cleared her throat. “We will both ask you questions, Grogu. Please answer them as best you can. Tala can translate for us.”

Tala raised her hand. “Before we begin, may I ask something?”

The Armorer nodded. “I’ve noticed that both of you have addressed Grogu as ‘Din Grogu’. I’m curious about that.”

“Taking the name of one’s mentor while under apprenticeship is a time honored Mandalorian tradition,” the Armorer said. “It shows that the apprentice is under the care of the mentor, even if they are not of the same clan. When Din Grogu has completed his training and is ready to swear the Creed, he will no longer use the name. Now, shall we begin?”

Grogu did his best to answer the questions the women posed to him. Did he understand what was expected of him as a Mandalorian apprentice? Did he willingly choose to learn the Way of the Mand’alor? Did he know the pillars of the Creed? What was Din teaching him? What weapons was he learning the use of?

Sometimes, Grogu didn’t have the words, so he sent Tala an image and she did her best to put his feelings and memories into words. Finally, the Armorer seemed satisfied and ended the interrogation. “Do you have any questions for us, Din Grogu?”

His ears pricked up. Tala listened very carefully to what he said and replied to the Armorer. “He wants to know why the big monster in the lake doesn’t want to wake up.”

**************************************************************

Bo-Katan went stiff. No one knew about her sighting of the Mythosaur in the Living Waters except the Armorer. She hadn’t even told Din anything about it. “The what?”

“The monster that lives in the lake,” Tala repeated. “He says it’s there but it won’t talk to him. It’s supposed to be awake.”

“Din Grogu, tell us more about this creature,” the Armorer said. “What do you sense from it?”

“It sleeps in the water. It’s cold down there. It was all alone but Dad fell in and Bo woke it up. It’s grumpy. I tried to talk to it but it ignores me. It doesn’t want to leave the dark,” Tala translated. She closed her eyes. “He’s sending me a picture, but it’s not very clear. He’s never seen it but he feels it. It’s big, reptilian … there’s a consciousness there that’s more than just animal but not quite sentient.”

“The Mythosaur,” Bo-Katan breathed.

“Ya!” Grogu pointed at the Mythosaur banner hanging on the wall of the Armorer’s chamber. “Mif.”

“It waits for something,” the Armorer said. “It’s time has not yet come.” She focused her helmet on Bo-Katan, who felt a frisson of emotion run the length of her spine. “But it will be soon.”

“And Mandalore will be ready,” Bo-Katan replied. Tala was clearly confused, but Grogu had a satisfied look on his face.

“This is the Way,” the Armorer said.

“This is the Way,” said Bo-Katan.

********************************************************

“I won’t even begin to ask what that was all about,” Tala said as she and Grogu followed Bo-Katan away from the forge.

“Good, because I’m not really sure myself,” Bo-Katan said. “I always thought the Mythosaur was simply a tale from ancient days, but … I’ve seen it myself, and now Grogu has confirmed my sighting. It means something for our people. Something big.”

“Does Din know about it?”

:No. Dad doesn’t know.:

“Should we tell him?”

Bo-Katan shrugged. “I’m not sure what he could do with the information. But if you don’t feel comfortable keeping something from him …” She sighed. “Look, it’s none of my business what’s going on between the two of you, but from a practical, political standpoint, it’s in my best interest that Din isn’t — involved — with any of the Mandalorian factions.”

“I thought Din’s clan was too small to be involved in politics,” Tala said carefully.

“It is a small clan, but it’s not aligned to any of the Houses,” Bo-Katan said. “And I’d like to keep it that way. Now, ideally, for me, Clan Djarin would align with House Kryze, but I can’t ask him to do that. That would put him in conflict with the Armorer, who is aligned with House Vizla. And the other Houses … let’s just say they’re still sorting themselves out as to who sides with whom.” She shook her head. “It’s a big mess. There are some who want to go back to the old ways, keep the helmets on all the time. And some who say the old ways didn’t work and we need a brand new path. Then there are all those who fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum and I have to try to keep everyone moving in roughly the same direction. Din has sworn fealty to me, but he also follows the Old Way. He’s sort of balanced in the middle and I don’t want to ask him to choose sides.”

“And since I’m not Mandalorian, I don’t affect his loyalties,” Tala said.

“Exactly. Plus, I like you. I think you’re good for him. And the kid.”

Grogu nodded. :Good for us. And good for you. And Neeli.:

“So don’t kriff this up, Pavan,” Bo-Katan said jokingly. “The last thing I need is Din Djarin falling for some Mandalorian woman’s line about ‘breeding warriors for the glory of Mandalore.’” She shook her head again. “We’ve had three marriages in the last two months and at least four pregnancies announced. The younger women aren’t wasting time. I tried to caution them that we aren’t secure enough to lose fighters from our ranks at that rate, but ….” She trailed off.

“Children are good for a society,” Tala said. “They might help people look to the future instead of the past.”

“I know, but … things are changing rapidly and not everyone is prepared to keep up.”

“Not even you?”

Bo-Katan laughed. “Especially not me. Before I met Din and this little guy, I would have told you that the Children of the Watch were fanatics, a bunch of weirdos in a death cult. And that I deserved the Darksaber and the throne because of my bloodlines. Now … I know we’re all just doing the best we can, making the choices we think are best. And that no weapon, no symbol, can confer the mantle of leadership. Mandalorians are best when we work together, as one.”

“Democracy is messy and frustrating, but better than the alternatives,” Tala said.

“You aren’t going to make a speech about the virtues of the New Republic, are you? Because they���re just as screwed up as the Empire and the Old Republic and just about every other form of government I’ve encountered.” Bo-Katan made a face.

“No,” Tala said carefully. “I just … I saw what the Empire did. What blind allegiance does. And I value the idea of everyone making up their own mind about things.”

:Sad: Grogu laid his hand on her arm, his ears drooping a bit.

:Not sad. Just … remembering:

:Rix:

Tala looked into Grogu’s dark eyes and forced herself to smile. Yes, she was thinking about Rix. But she didn’t want to burden the child with such thoughts.

“There’s a story behind that, but I’m not sure if I’m the right person for you to tell it to,” Bo-Katan said. “Have you and Din had a serious talk about your relationship?”

“We’re taking it slow,” Tala said firmly. “I don’t want to rush him. Or myself.”

“There’s taking it slow and there’s dragging your feet,” Bo-Katan said. “Figure out which one you’re doing. Don’t string him along if you aren’t serious about this. I might not have the Darksaber anymore, but I have plenty of other weapons at my disposal. You don’t want me to have to kick your ass, do you?”

“No, I definitely don’t want that,” Tala said. “I promise I’ll talk to him when we get back to Nevarro.”

:Talking is good. But eating is better. Let’s find a snack:

“Grogu’s hungry.”

“I think he deserves something tasty after that interrogation,” Bo-Katan agreed. “I think the kaj berries are ready to harvest. Why don’t you head down to the hydro bays and find out?”

********************************************************************

Din was sweating and tired, but it was a good thing. He hadn’t had a chance to spar with anyone this skilled in quite a long time. He’d become complacent.

“Nice comeback on that attack,” Axe Woves said, panting a little. The man wore his helmet for the match, but Din could still sense his fierce gaze. “Next time, time it a little faster and you’ll be able to disarm me instead of just deflecting the blow.”

Din nodded. “Of course, if you came at me like this …” He lunged and swiped with his staff. “I wouldn’t be able to counter you.”

Axe laughed as he took the blow. “You’re sneaky, I’ll give you that.” He straightened up and pulled off his helmet. “Time for a break. Here comes the boss.”

Din turned to see Bo-Katan striding across the sparring ring. She had her helmet tucked under her arm and a smile on her face. “It’s good to see you two working together,” she said as she approached.

“Mandalorians always work better together,” Axe said.

Bo-Katan shot him a look. “Mocking me won’t do you any good, especially when I’m right,” she said. “Din, your apprentice passed muster. I’m sure the Armorer will have a few suggestions for his training, but overall you’re on the right path. When he’s capable of reciting the Creed, he can get a helmet of his own. Although I don’t know how that’s going to work with those ears of his …”

“The Armorer will find a way,” Din said. He felt pride building inside him. He knew he was teaching Grogu the things he needed to know but getting verification that the child understood and could relay the information back was pleasing. Grogu was an exceptional being, and Din was proud to be his father.

“I’m sure she will,” Bo-Katan said. “Tala took him down to the hydro bays to look for fruit. I’m sure you can find them if you head that way.”

“I should finish my session with Axe,” Din began, but Axe waved him off.

“I think we’ve done enough for the moment. Go tell your kid you’re proud of him.”

Din bowed to the other man. “Thank you for the sparring session. I have learned much today.”

Axe bowed back. “This is the Way,” he said, with only a trace of scorn in his voice.

As Din walked away, Bo-Katan signaled him closer. “I like her,” she said quietly. “A lot. Don’t let anyone tell you you shouldn’t be with her because she’s not Mandalorian.”

“I won’t,” Din said.

She clapped her hand on his arm. “Good. I’ll try to see you again before you head back to Nevarro, but if I can’t, safe journey.”

“Thank you, Lady Bo-Katan.”

She laughed. “You’re welcome, Mister Djarin.”

Din headed for the lower area of the caves where the hydro bays were located. They had been tucked into pockets here and there, some with entirely artificial lighting and others with access to natural skylights that let in precious sunlight when the clouds thinned. It was smart to place the means of food production deep within the settlement. If there was ever a siege, the people would not starve quickly.

He found Tala and Grogu in the third bay he entered. Grogu was cramming bright purple kaj berries into his mouth, his face smeared with juice.

“I’m not sure that’s your color,” Din said.

“Da!” Grogu dropped a berry and Force-jumped his way into Din’s arms, babbling away.

“He says he talked a long time with the Armorer and Bo-Katan,” Tala translated. “And now he’s having a reward. And he has something to tell you but not right now, because he’s still hungry.”

“Then eat away,” Din said, placing the child back on the ground. “There will be plenty of time to talk after your belly is full.”

Tala smiled. “He did work pretty hard today,” she said. “He was very careful answering their questions. I could tell he wanted to make sure they knew how much you’ve taught him.”

“He’s a good student,” Din said. “When he’s not distracted by food or toys.”

Tala slipped her hand through the crook of his arm and Din leaned into her slightly. “He’s still just a kid.” She squeezed his arm. “You’re warm. Were you sparring like you planned?”

“Yes, I had a good session with Axe Woves,” he said. “He challenges me.”

“Do you ever spar with Bo-Katan?”

“No,” Din said. “I haven’t had that pleasure yet. She is a formidable foe.”

“And a formidable ally. I like her.”

“She said the same about you,” Din said. “About liking you, not the ally part. Although she might agree with that as well.”

“She’s a wise person, in many ways,” Tala said. “She … gave me a bit of advice that I think I might use.” She leaned against him, laying her head against his shoulder.

Din felt his muscles stiffen and forced himself to relax. Tala was not a threat; he did not need to be on guard around her. Still, when things started getting — intimate — he found himself on high alert. The urge to touch her, to strip away his armor and feel her next to him was so strong. He knew that it would take a great deal of willpower to resist removing his helmet, brushing his lips against her skin, looking directly into her eyes … It was so very, very tempting. But he could not go against his Creed. Not until he was entirely sure, not unless she was part of his clan.

“I’m sure whatever her advice is, I will agree with it,” he said carefully. “Lady Bo-Katan is our leader for a reason.”

“This is the Way,” Tala said. Din’s heart fluttered at her words.

“This is the Way,” he replied.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Mando and Grogu fic recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

A clan of two by Louwhowrites - Rated G

Din was holding Grogu as soon as he came out of Bo-Katan's ship. It was the most natural thing in the galaxy for him, to have the kid in his arms. Or, Din thinks about his relationship with Grogu and seeing Grogu's rondel is the final push he needed to do something he should have done a long time ago.

I Just Want to Make You Feel, Like You’re the Only Buir in the World! by artindistress - Rated G

Grogu didn’t have many good memories before meeting Buir.

For a long stretch of time, he wasn’t sure how long, Grogu had been locked away in a dark, scary place, surrounded by dark, scary people. He could rarely make out their faces, but he could very clearly sense their overwhelming emotions of anger, irritation, cruelty that made him curl in on himself in an effort to be as unnoticeable as possible. He learned very quickly that being quiet, not voicing his hurts, his hunger and cold and desperate loneliness, was the best way to survive. His mind floated in a limbo of empty aches, surrounded by darkness that he was helpless to escape from. He was too little, too weak, too scared and confused and lost to do anything.

Then, one day, there was light.

Buir Bal Ad - Jate Ge'catra Par Sabacc Bal Cin'ciri Striile [Father and Son - A Good Evening For Sabacc and Snow Strills] by Saviin_K - Rated G

Din takes a break one evening while it's snowing and spends some time teaching his son fun and games. At the end of the evening, Din makes Grogu a special promise that means as much to the Mando verd as it does to the ad'ika

skin-deep by uncleanakin (unclemoriarty) - Rated G

When Din first accepted the role of temporary father to a foundling, he hadn't anticipated the obstacles that an inter-species family could encounter. While he'd rather not face those struggles, he had to admit that they helped him see some things in a new light.

Hard Lessons Learned by DragonXKS - Rated T

A routine bounty job quickly gets out of hand leaving both Din and Grogu injured and shaken while coming to terms with what happened.

Dada!! by snickerdoodlecat0 - Rated G

My take on Grogu's POV of reuniting with Din.

The First Night by Yatzstar - Rated G

Din and Grogu's first night after being reunited. Contains major spoilers for The Book of Boba Fett finale.

And we are kind to snails by vaguely_concerned - Rated G

Story time on the Razor Crest! It was obviously way too early to introduce the kid to combat training, but there were other ways to prepare a child for the world, surely. If that meant Din was occasionally stuck trying to imitate animal calls for the enjoyment and edification of a delighted and indefatigable one-person audience, so be it.

I have acquired a child. by stingrcy - Rated G

How can I ensure its welfare without having it become attached to me? Thank you. 🗨 17 comments    ➦ Share    🠷 Save    🛇 Hide    ⚑ Report (The r/Parenting AU some people wondered about but technically did not ask for.)

[andguesswhat]

Diary of a mall Santa Claus

I don't know what this is... This is somehow AU, this is "young" Charmie, this is really quite unspectacular....and maybe even half-baked....and sometimes really short...

BUT this is an advent calendar!!!

A Timmy and Armie advent calendar!!!

Another one!!!

And it's Christmas time!!!

So I hope some of you have fun after all!!! 😅

(As always, not beta read. Tell me if you're bored this holiday season and like to help me out, lol. Or are there any miracles?)

1

Introduction Day

It was actually very clear from the beginning that he wanted to get into this cute guy's pants. ASAP.

But let's start from the beginning.

*

"You're the elf?"

The curly-haired guy standing next to him, absorbed in his phone, looks up at him, nods politely, and gives him an uncertain, "Yeah...?"

"Hi, I'm Santa Claus," Armie replies, of course in his confident and all sexy vibrating voice.

"Hi," the guy replies, "I'm Timmy ... I mean, the elf ... uh, Tim, Timothée ... whatever." He makes a slightly overwhelmed face but smiles anyway.

Armie smiles back.

Because this out of this world myriad of emotions on the guy's face in the last few seconds .... You have to smile at that.

"Nice to meet you, TimmyTimTimothée, the elf," Armie extends his hand to the guy. "It's okay if you just call me Santa Armie. Well, let's say Santa Armie the Fifth."

"Okay," the guy is giving him a cute smile and shakes Armie's hand. "Nice to meet you too, Santa Armie. The Fifth."

Armie is downright relieved. If he's going to have to do this fucking job every fucking day until fucking Christmas, at least he has a likeable partner by his side. And as it seems a pretty one as well.

The saleswoman approaches them, shows them the way to the dressing room and gives them their costumes. "Meet me at the rondell in 10 minutes," she says, leaving them alone with their costumes.

They begin to change. Big, foam-filled, comfortable pants for him, tights for the guy. No, he's certainly not jealous of him.

But the way the guy stands there then, no longer in his oversized hoodie and jeans hanging down to the back of his knees, but in this tight costume with those pointy ears and everything, and that kinda pure look on his face.... Armie has to acknowledge that `pretty´ is the understatement of the year.

This guy… elf was fucking beautiful.

Not exactly his type, a bit too young, but definitely nice to look at. And hopefully good for some fun. Armie can already feel his bells ringing.

"How do I look?" asks Armie, wanting the guy, Timmy to look at him the way he looks at him.

"Like Santa Claus?" replies Timmy. Not quite the answer Armie was hoping for, but what can he say, you can't see anything of him anyway, with the beard and all.

"No shit! But the scary one or the not scary one?" he asks.

Timmy ponders. "Probably depends on the tone of your voice and what you say."

Armie accepts the invitation and raises his eyebrow, really high, makes big crazy eyes and gives his creepiest performance. "Sooo, my little sweet boy, have you always been good, like really good?"

The guy laughs. "Yeah, that'll probably get you a lot of crying kids."

"Good, I love crying kids."

Luckily, Timmy is still laughing, but Armie decides not to push it for once; after all, he doesn't want to scare him away right away. So he continues in a slightly more normal tone. "What about elves? Can elves be scary too?"

The guy ponders. "I don't know. Well, maybe not scary.... but creepy!" and then it's his turn to contort his face, his hands forming claws, but because he's laughing, he just looks cute. Very cute.

But then he adds in a dry voice, "Elves like to rip dolls' heads off and then eat them."

Okayyy! Where did that come from? Armie laughs appreciatively.

"Love it. As long as you don't rip the kids' heads off.... If you do, I bet they make us clean up all the blood off the floor."

The guy grins.

They go to the assistant for instructions on what to say, what not to say, and so on and so forth.

The hours go by quickly. The kids are sometimes cute, the parents sometimes terrible, sometimes the other way around or both terrible or both cute.

Timmy stands or squats two/three feet in front of him, so Armie can watch him almost undisturbed out of the corner of his eye.

He likes not only his lean figure, his nice little butt, but Timmy as a whole. He's one hell of a cute, sexy elf.

And the way Timmy looks over at him from time to time, either to laugh or to roll his eyes when the customers are among the more annoying.... He himself is no longer so annoyed that he had to take this horrible job to keep his head above water.

If his instincts don't deceive him, this could be a fun few weeks.

*

(to everybody who is late to this one, please take the hashtag "charmie advent calendar", see below, or go to the archive, thanks!)

[annaofthenorthernlights]

Happy homecoming day

for @thefamilybruno Happy birthday my friend! 🎉 This little domestic fluff is my way to say thank you for being part of an amazing fandom and inspiring me to expand my horizon of writing polyamory relationship!

batb 1991 (the one and only 😘) polyamory relationship Belle/Adam/Gaston words 647 / rated T

Belle has been away to see her father and is on her way home. Adam and Gaston are excited to get their girl back.

Read on AO3 or below the cut

"Come on, Prince Charming, we're late!" huffs Gaston, standing in the doorway and tapping his fingers on the doorframe. They're not really late, but he can't wait to get Belle from the airport.

"Alright, Monsieur Perfect, here we go." Adam comes out of the bathroom with a big smile on his face, unfazed by Gaston's impatience. He's too busy daydreaming about seeing Belle again.

----

The plane lands on time and Belle rushes to the baggage claim. As she waits for the rondel to begin its slow roll, Belle cranes her neck and paces in front of the windows to the arrivals area. There are so many people, and she nibbles at her bottom lip, wringing her hands with a fluttering heart.

Then her eyes light up and her lips curve into a bright smile.

There they are!

It's only been a week, but it feels like she's been gone for a year. Belle squeals, jumping up and down, waving her hands and snapping her fingers as if they could hear her. The people around her turn their heads, either making faces or smiling understandingly. The girl must have spotted her darling.

Only there are two darlings, and the two men on the other side start the same little dance when Gaston spots her first. Adam playfully pushes him aside to get past him, blows hand kisses and smiles sweetly at Belle. She giggles and responds with a hand kiss of her own.

Gaston shakes his head and plants himself next to Adam, puffing out his chest and nudging his head with a seductive wink. Belle laughs out loud and if the glass between them were not so thick, they could hear each other giggling and cackling like idiots.

The people waiting around the men look just as confused and dumbfounded. But the three of them can't be bothered in the least. Belle gasps, gestures towards the exit and then hurries to get her bag.

Once outside, she runs up to Gaston and Adam, who are standing arm in arm, catching their girl and tucking her between their bodies. Snuggling into the long missed embrace, Belle lifts her face and kisses first Gaston and then Adam.

"Welcome home my love." Adam whispers in her ear.

"We missed you, chèrie!" Gaston pecks her cheek.

"Oh, I missed you too!" Belle sighs with a broad smile.

----

"It's so good to be home." Belle hands her coat to Adam, who puts it on the coat rack, and Gaston brings her bag into the bedroom.

"Dinner will be ready soon. We can't wait to hear how you and Maurice have been." Adam puts an arm around Belle's shoulder.

"Oh..." she bites her lips, "actually... I was hoping to get in the shower before dinner. You know, travelling and all."

"Sure, just make yourself at home." Gaston laughs loudly at his own joke.

Belle tilts her head, looking up at Adam and then at Gaston.

"Well... uhm... I was hoping... well... I've felt very lonely taking a shower the last few days..."

No further words are needed and before Belle knows what's happening, she's stripped and in the shower - but not alone. Getting her hands back on her men is just what she needs right now and she loves the feel of their hands on her just as much.

"It's so good to be home." She whispers as Adam dries her hair with a towel while Gaston wraps the bathrobe around her.

"You have no idea how much we've missed you." Adam pecks her temple. Belle cups his cheek and reaches for Gaston's hand.

"I could use a little appetiser before dinner."

"At your service, chèrie!" Gaston lifts her hand and plants kisses on her knuckles. "Any special desires?"

Belle smiles, loops her hands in the crook of their arms and giggles delightfully.

" Escort me to the bedroom and I will show you."

[ablinkntime]

@snkts // from here

When you were one of very few teleporters available for the X-Men to call upon, it was only logical that they would, given the need, pull your name once in a while. For a mission in which something as loud and obvious as a jet (even a highly advanced one) could blow the whole thing. This was Clarice's bread and butter -- get in, do the work, get everybody home again as whole as possible. It was what she was trained for.

Didn't mean the occasional spanner didn't get lodged in the works. There were still wrinkles in the whole dynamic since she'd gotten unceremoniously wedged into this family structure, and it meant everybody was off their game, even if it was just by a fractional degree. She was used to taking charge. That wasn't her place now.

The mission was simple. Nest of mutant-haters with a stockpile of guns and a database they shouldn't have. Get in, steal or destroy the database, clear out the weapons, get back home. Only hitch might be that their funding seemed a little too stable to be homegrown. The good news is they were able to get the info off the database relatively intact before they blew it up.

The bad news is the residents of the base kept throwing themselves at Logan's claws. Clarice was good about sticking behind him, only picking off the ones who got too close and didn't seem to have the crosshairs of the Wolverine on them -- but she did take a few grazes in spite of that. Botched a teleport trying to get out of range of a pistol shot -- it grazed her shoulder, nicked one of the rondels on her uniform so it was cracked in half. Blood oozed down her skin, staining the suit, but it didn't slow her down.

Nothing did, until the job was done.

Only when she was absolutely sure, when the denizens of this nest of fools had either fled or bled out, did she let her guard down -- only to be suddenly hauled against Logan's chest, and she only stiffened for a moment before she relaxed, let the hard mask fall off her face as her head thumped against his shoulder. Breathe a sigh as the tension eased off, her own arms winding around his middle to return the gentle pressure.

"Learned from the best," she murmured, wiping at something on her face -- a smear of blood and debris, but if it had been there already or been transferred from Logan's suit she neither knew nor cared. She winced; moving her arm had aggravated her shoulder, re-opening the wound. "Ah -- crap." She pulled back, pulled her hair to one side -- she couldn't see -- "One of 'em got a lucky shot, how's it look...?"

[contentsoftable]

Terracotta Army

Designer:  Przemysław Fornal, Adam Kwapiński Publisher: Board & Dice Theme: Building the X’ian terracotta warriors 

There is something to be said for a game that I (Lili) haven’t won yet after at least six plays, and still want to play again!

Terracotta Army is visually cool. There is a rondel where you place your “craftsman” or “artisan” meeples, that can be rotated to get yourself a more useful sequence of actions or to thwart your opponent’s plans (even if unintentionally).  

Even the box is cool. The terracotta warrior miniatures are stored in columns  with graphics that let you know how many points you score as soon as you “build” each one. There are also HORSES! 

Terracotta Army is an area control game played on a 7x9 grid of squares. You are spending clay to build and place more of your Warriors per designated row, quadrant or configuration, and to work towards having the highest number of a certain type of Warrior on the board to gain more points with each round. The criteria for points also change from round to round and the numbers go up significantly as the game progresses. This can be pretty frustrating as you get close to the end, depending on where you are on the score track.

The currency in this game is clay, coins, and weapons. Other rondel actions are paying a “Master” (to get more clay, refresh weapons, repeat turns, etc.) and building “Specialist” figures that aid you in your point scoring. For example, the Horses (yes, they are “Specialists”) take up more squares and so block your opponent from placing in those squares, while the Musicians score you more points if your warriors are in their row or column.

A word of warning: you may be perturbed by these minis not all facing the same direction (like the real Terracotta Army) if you have any sort of OCD or need for the game to feel thematically accurate.

[itsbulkgemstones]

wholesale Ethiopian Opal Beads Strands

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Gemstones are beautiful mineral crystals cut in a clean and polished shape. It is also utilized to create Jewelry and other accessories. Within each Gemstone, there is a story in its creation.

You may have noticed one stone named. Ethiopian Opal caused Ethiopia's Queen Sheba adorable when she met King Salomon. Ethiopian Opal is a stunning and diverse kind of stone that has the ability to change color. It is among the finest features of opals. The clarity that is present in Opal Opal is so great that it even has a transparent sea that can cut or slash the colors evenly within the Gem.

We have a broad range of collections of Semi-Precious Stone - White and Yellow Multi-Fire Ethiopian Opal loose-faced stones Loose Smooth, Gemstones, and Rose Cut Cabochons Beads.

[eddieheart]

DIRKS AND DAGGARS

Fandom: Prodigal Son

Pairings: slight Malcolm x oc

Words: 1368

Description: Malcolm meets his so called ‘grocery bandit’

It had been a long week, Mary was a hard worker, or at least she liked to think. She'd been working as a maid/ house cleaner for a few years now. The money helped pay for college and rent, rich families would pay out the nose to not have to clean their houses.

Her latest client had recommended her to a friend, a very rich friend, who had a son. Apparently he'd been trying to get away from his family, at least a little. He was very private and didn't tell others about his problems, especially not his mother.

The woman had asked that along with cleaning her apartment building, including his apartment, that Mary give her regular updates on her son.

It wasn't the first weird request Mary had received and it surely was not the last, he was probably just another frat boy not telling his mummy about all his conquests. Maybe she'd find his secret panty drawer and out him.

A uniform wasn't required unless specifically asked for, and Mary much preferred to just wear jeans and a t-shirt. It was her second week cleaning the apartments and she still hadn't seen the mysterious son in question.

Antique and vintage blades decorating the walls were reminiscent of a museum, the paintings scattering the walls were gorgeous. His apartment was, odd to stay the least, but Mary quite enjoyed it. It was a surprise though, for her to find a pair of leather cuffs anchored to his bed, kinky.

She started the day as usual, putting her head phones on and beginning with the lower level rooms, making her way up. Using her key, Mary slipped into the apartment, music screaming in her ears.

With several bags hanging from her arms she sauntered over to the fridge. Jessica had been paying her extra to drop off groceries. She pulled open the fridge door and held it open with her leg, pulling out groceries from the bag and humming to herself.

Once the bag was empty she shut the fridge door and stuffed the plastic bag into her larger sack. The heavy bag swung, wrapping the wires of her headphones into the bag straps and pulling them from her ears.

"So you're the grocery bandit, I've been expecting you." A loud male voice spoke through the apartment.

Her head shot up and she jumped back in shock. A loud gasp escaped her and she placed a hand to her chest. Mary let out a few panicked breaths, trying to calm her breathing as the man stepped closer.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. Did my mother send you?" He asked kindly. The man was closer now, about a meter in between them.

"Umm.. yes. I uh, I'm the maid. I.. uh.. it's nice to meet you Mr. Whitly." She nodded her head in greeting.

He seemed startled but recovered quickly with a smile, he reached a hand out.

"Bright, Malcolm Bright. You can call me Malcolm, it's nice to meet you as well." She shook his hand, watching his face as she did.

"I can come back later if you want, it's not a big deal." Mary asked timidly, pointing to the door.

"No, no. It's fine." His smile was infectious.

Mary pulled a few cleaning products from her bag, glancing at him subtly. Biting her lip she placed the bottles onto the counter and decided to speak.

"Your weapons are lovely. It's quite the collection." Cleaning as she spoke timidly.

His head shot up with a bright smile, he walked over to the kitchen island, close but not too close.

"Thank you, you like weapons? I mean collecting?" Mary could tell he was trying to keep his enthusiasm at bay. She sprayed a small bit of cleaner onto the table and wiped it off with a clean washcloth.

"I do, I have to say your medieval dirk with the gilded handle is... lovely." His smile widened and he continued on with a sense of childish glee.

"Your a fan of medieval rondell daggers? You don't seem like the type, no offense." He held his hands up in a surrender position.

"None taken, I don't exactly look like a historical weapons connoisseur. I'm in school for anthropology at the moment, historical culture, weapons, clothing, religion... I know a bit of everything." She gestures to herself as she spoke, smiling at them man.

"You're an anthropologist?" He asked, perking up. Mary smiled bitterly it soon turned into a slight frown.

"No, not yet at least."

"But you do know about ancient cultures?" Eye brows raised in question.

Her brows furrowed quizzically as she moved from cleaning the kitchen island to wiping down the countertops.

"I do yes, I know about insects and bones as well, forensic anthropology and entomology." He stood quickly at her mention and walked forward.

"Would you be able to help me with something? I'm working a case and you seem to have... the perfect skill set." Leaning closer to her, he spoke with his hands excitedly.

"I um... sure.. what exactly do you need me to do?" For all she knew this man, Malcolm, was making fun of her.

In a blur he rushed off towards a desk, he quickly pulled a series of Manila folders and rushed back to the island. Opening them roughly he dispersed the photos onto the table ans ushered her over.

She stared at one of the photos in interest, biting her lip she grabbed another. Malcolm watched in excitement, she was seeing something he hadn't.

A burst of energy flew through her and she quickly rearranged the photos in a pattern of sorts. Smiling to herself she turned to him.

"What exactly is this?"

"They are photos from several crime scenes across the city, I was hoping you could help me figure out what was missing. You have haven't you? What do you see?" He asked with a pleasant smirk.

"It's... this is... different um... hard to explain. Endocannibalism, anthropologists have studied it for years, I've never seen something like this here. This is a death ritual preformed by a new guinae tribe. It's a bastardized version of course but you can see the similarities," smiling she pointed at the photos. "See here, the gallbladder was burned in the fireplace, that's the one piece you don't eat. His body is laid across a set table, like they were expecting company, expecting a meal."

Malcolm watched her intently as she spoke, feeding of off her energy.

"The skull was cut open and the brain removed, it's said that if you eat the brain you absorb the wisdom of the dead person. But here, see this," she pointed down. "Right here, the cut is clean, like it was done with a bone saw, same here at the ribs. Did you find the internal organs?"

Her head whipped around to face him, neither of them had noticed how close they were. Their noses practically touching. Malcolm laughed awkwardly and stepped back.

"Um.. no we didn't." He looked to her in confusion, excitement seeping off of him in waves.

"The killer took them, probably to eat. The cuts are precise and clean, they look professional. You can see here, the killer started to clean but only got halfway through, they were interrupted. Didn't get to finish their ritual, so they took them." Mary looked to Malcolm with a determined expression.

"Your either looking for someone who works with people or the dead, like a surgeon or mortician or you're looking for an expert, someone who's done this before. Given the fact they're using papa New Guinea type methods I'd say you're looking for a woman as well. They believe that only a woman could hold the demons of man." Shaking her head she turned back to him.

"I'm sorry I should probably get back to work." She waved her hand dismissively and folded in on herself. He reached out a hand touching her arm softly.

"No no.. you've really helped me. How would you feel about coming into the station with me, to work on a profile?" Malcolm asked almost timidly. Mary nodded and smiled.

"I'd be delighted."

Part 2:

Thank you @buggylad for editing, I couldn’t do it without you. Also, my requests are always open so if you have any, please send them in. :)

[cookiescraze]

Calycanthus Floridus

Word Count: 2K+

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, Cold!Taehyung, College au, Taehyung-centric

"Bonjour!" She greeted him loudly, startling the boy with a sudden voice, causing him to drop his Flat and Rondel Chisel on the ground, only to create an ear-splitting noise as the metal clashed with tiles of the floor.

Wincing at the noise, he turned around to face the source of disturbance that had fortunately blessed him with her presence that morning. Coming face to face with a bright smile plastered onto the girls face, he rolled his eyes, already tired of the cheery nature of the girl. However, she paid no attention to the annoyance on his face, as she took a neighbouring seat, plopping onto the wooden chair as she dropped her canvas tote bag on the floor, messily brushing a stray strand of her hair away from her face.

Y/n was a girl that stood out, her radiant smile being a huge contrast to the frowns, broke college students often find them acquainted with. Sure, she wore the simplest clothes - an oversized buttoned-up red and black flannel with wide-legged jeans stained with bright colours of paint for today - but the bright smile that had found a permanent residency on her face was what intrigued everyone, a smile that was so pure and innocent like she didn't have a single worry in her life.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was someone who had hardly ever smiled. His wavy yet fluffy hair covered most of his eyes, a scowl prominent whenever someone had tried to approach him. Always sitting in the corner of the lecture hall, he found himself ignored by the majority of the school body, pleased at the lack of interaction.

However, as much as he tried, he couldn't shake off one - very energetic - girl, who had made it her personal challenge to befriend (or more as hinted by her many times in the past) him. Each glare he sent was returned with a cheeky grin, annoying him to no bounds. It was like her feelings were protected by an unbreakable barrier that no scowl or frown could hurt. Ultimately, he realised, it was best if he just ignored her. Ever since, every cheerful greeting, every annoying smile that sent his way was ignored, almost like she didn't exist. Unfortunately, it was hard to get rid of his seat partner, especially when she didn't seem too bothered by the lack of responses.

"Ooh, your sculpture is coming along very well! I love the layers. You know, I think you'll get one of the best grades, and I'll be there to cheer you on the loudest."

"Are you going to confess again?" His voice was deep and monotonous, a tint of exasperation laced in the tone of his words, as he reached down for his tool, in a tired manner.

"Please… the last time I confessed, you told me to prove it to you - and that's exactly what I'm going to do. Just wait." The teasing tone was so prominent, he sighed in dreadful anticipation at what she had for him, trying to ignore the red blush that was threatening to cover his face at her words.

"Ahem," He cleared his throat awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to that, rubbing the crook of his neck before continuing with his sculpture. "Shouldn't you be worried about yours? A lot of big art companies are coming to the May showcase."

"I've decided to do the showcase tomorrow since it gives me a better chance at getting that internship at JungArts, they are sending people tonight and not during May. "

National University of Arts was the prestigious school to attend, with children all over the world competing for a spot here. With the world-class facilities and famous professors, this University was a dream school for anyone looking into Arts. However, what everyone looked forward to was the two annual showcases in February and May. With individuals from different companies coming, it was a gold mine of career opportunities in the creative industry. It was what every student was working towards, putting their utmost effort and precious time to impress the visitors.

"Will you come to tomorrow's showcase?" Her question was ignored, causing her to wear a playful pout as she whined at his cold behaviour. "Taehyung!" She dragged out, leaning her entire body weight onto his shoulder, as he desperately tried to ignore her. "I want you to see something special."

At his nonchalant behaviour, Y/n inhaled deeply, before muttering, "If you come tomorrow, I won't annoy you anymore."

Desperate situation calls for desperate measures.

Regardless, her last sentence had caught his attention as he turned his head to face her with a shocked expression, a sliver of disappointment running through his mind.

"What?" He muttered.

"I mean it. After tomorrow, if you don't want me to bother you again, I won't."

Reluctantly nodding, he returned to his work, despondency tangible in his expression. However, Y/n remained to stare at his face, a dreamy smile present on her face, irking Taehyung, while his heart skipped a beat.

"Do your work." He muttered, desperate to save his heart from failing, awkward under her deep gaze.

"I'll do it after the session. I'm here to stare at your beautiful, handsome, well-proportioned face."

His face reddened at her words, making him tremendously flustered. He always wondered how she could just say things like that, not even caring about how the other person would react. He wiped his sweat with his left hand, the other hand continuing his ministrations as he pretended to not be affected by her words, unknowingly smearing clay on his cheekbones. Widening her eyes, Y/n quickly got a wet wipe out of her bag before leaning over to wipe the clay, her soft fingers making contact with his face in a caring manner. Choking on his own spit, he coughed at her actions, shock present on his face as the size of his eyes doubled.

"You know what, let's k-keep a distance." He stuttered, too flustered by her, to even think about anything, causing her to let out a chuckling, a teasing glint in her eyes as she begrudgingly agreed

***

To Y/n, the showcase was really important, and not only because this is the only time her favourite company was going to send someone, but also due to a certain someone. For Y/n, this was her last chance. Which was why she was up at 3 am, in her pyjamas kneeling in front of a 150x199cm wooden canvas, in the art building. It was a big canvas, the biggest she could find in all the art supply stores within a 30km radius. She knows it didn't have to be big to impress someone as long as it comes from the heart, but her mother's words had kept constantly ringing in her head.

'Hard work is the sweetest gift you can give someone.'

Art was always something she didn't mind spending timeless hours on. Now, she had a reason to do so, transforming every treacherous minute into something beautiful, something that had a purpose. Her fingers were blue and bruised, wrist aching with every movement, but that did hinder her work, determination was palpable in her movement, softly yet expertly tying the red piece of string intricately around the piece of metal. Imprints filled her arms as she reached out to the centre of the piece, without damaging the other parts. However, to be honest, she didn't mind it, she didn't mind the blood she shed due to her carelessness, nor did she care about eyebags that were starting to form under her eyes. She loved every minute, anticipating the reaction when he sees this.

***

"I don't understand why you have to do this." He whined, portraying faux annoyance at her actions.

"Just wait… ignore the blindfold for a minute." She giddily said, pushing him through the crowd towards her painting that hung gloriously on the wall, earning stares from the crowd.

As he stood in front of the painting, oblivious to the masterpiece on the wall, Y/n exhaled a shaky breath, palms sweating nervously, as she slowly untied the knot, before pausing, worry laced in her voice.

"Remember, if you don't like it, don't say anything mean about it. It-it means a lot to me." She slowly dropped the thin piece of cloth, anxiously gazing at his reaction

As he took in the painting in front of him, he swallowed his snark comment, mouth hung open in shock and amazement. In front of him was one of the biggest paintings he had ever seen, thousands of iron nails nailed onto the wooden canvas linked with a delicate piece of thread to create a beautiful intricate design. It was a black and white image of a wildfire, destruction so tragically yet beautifully presented in the back. However, what stood out was the bundles of California allspice, the bright red colour a huge contrast to the monochrome background. It was as if it was the only life present, surviving the destruction, ignoring the ruination behind it. His eyes schemed through the painting, awestruck by the detail and effort put into the piece. His eyes caught the white piece of paper in the corner of the paper, indicating the title of the piece.

'You'

All wishes come true

Everything will be alright even when facing a difficult situation

"You did this for me?" He question, his voice soft with shock and disbelief.

"Yeah… that's your birth flower because that is how you are to me… the only beautiful thing in a world of chaos."

Her words struck something in him, tears threatening to pool around his eyes. He looked into her eyes, adoration discernible in his stare. He was about to open his mouth, when someone interrupted him, calling her to present.

"Stay here and listen? I want you to know the meaning of this piece." She merely smiled before running off to the front, not even waiting for his response.

"Thank you all for coming here, it is a pleasure to present this in front of you all." she started, her voice confident as began presenting, masking any indication of nervousness. "As you can see, this piece is about something so beautiful surviving; whether that is from a fire or just life, it defies everything, remaining as beautiful and alluring as ever. This is my perception on life; each nail represents a hurtful past experience, but they come together to form a piece of art, to form you."

"Why is the title 'You' and not something like 'me' since it is your perception of life?" A lady in her mid-thirties questioned, critically judging the piece of work.

"For me," She gazed quickly at Taehyung, before continuing. "there is someone who brightens my monochromatic life that was filled with destruction, someone who allows me to see the beauty of the picture that life had created. Without them, life would just have been metal irons. This painting is a tribute to all those who help create the picture of life, for helping me survive. "

***

The crowd had dispersed, moving onto the next painting, as Taehyung stood rooted to his spot, eyes not leaving Y/n.

"So… did you like it? If you didn't get it, I also named it after you. I only wrote the meaning of your name since I know you don't really appreciate the attention. I hope I didn't scare you off or anything, but this is my painting is my feelings for you, my purest emotions. I wanted to prove to you that I really do-" Her nervous rambling was interrupted by him.

"Y/n… breath…" He said, concerned for her.

"Sorry," She lowered her head sheepishly before continuing. "So would it be a yes? Can I take you out, maybe go to cheesecake factory or-"

"No." Her heart dropped, tears pooling in her eyes, as she smiled in disappointment.

She did everything she could, it's time she accepted it.

"I guess I should stop bothering you then. It's fine, I can't really force you to like me. I'm sor-"

"I'm lactose intolerant. I'll take you to dinner nearby on Saturday. Wear something warm, we're going to go ice skating later."

At his words, she perked her head up, eyes widened in surprise in shock, disbelief a prominent in her expression.

"W-wait! That means- that m- you said yes?! Oh my! I didn't expect- wow!" She jumped at him, arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, hugging him in excitement, making him chuckle at her reaction, softly wrapping his own arms around her waist, savouring the warmth of her body pressed against him.

"Thank you… I know I don't show this, but I really do love you." He whispered into her ears, making her lift her head to face him.

"I love you too."

[queenlucythevaliant]

To Pray in Poetry

Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave my heart into my mouth.

Ah, awful weight! Infinity

Pressed down upon the finite Me!

Your beauty shakes me who was once serene;

Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.

And I love you

with one hemisphere of my brain,

the dumb one, which forgets.

Is there a murderer here? No. Yes, I am.

I wanted the gold, and I sought it;

I hurled my youth into a grave.

Forgive, forgive, that I mistook

Too many others for you.

Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—

Thy love is such I can no way repay;

I would not wish any companion in the world but you.

Say over again, and yet once over again,

That thou dost love me.  

Let me look at your face and see a heaven worth having.

I am not resigned to the shutting away of loving hearts in the hard ground.

For always we are following a light,

With groping hands

We stretch toward this glory

Amen

.

.

.

(William Shakespeare, King Lear 1.1.100-101 // Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Renascence,” line 83-84 // Geoffrey Chaucer, “Rondel of Merciless Beauty,” lines 12-13 // Pablo Neruda, “One Hundred Love Sonnets XVII” line 9 // Mary Karr, “ Diogenes Tries to Forget,” lines 12-14 // William Shakespeare, Richard III 5.3.196 // Robert Service, “The Spell of the Yukon, lines 1 & 4 // Anna Akhmatova, “The Evening Light,” lines 11-12 // John Keats “Bright Star,” line 1 // Anne Bradstreet, “To My Dear and Loving Husband,” line 9 // William Shakespeare, The Tempest 3.1.65-66 //  Elizabeth Barrett Browning,   “Sonnets from the Portuguese XXI,” lines 1-2 //  Ruth Awad “In the gloaming, in the roiling night,” line 5 // Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Dirge Without Music,” line 1 // Amy Lowell, “The Lamp of Life,” lines 1-3) 

[dashedwithromance]

Secret Moments In A Crowded Room - Princewitch

okay so DISCLAIMER im scared to post this because we’ve never really seen romantic wrath before so idk if people might think this is OOC but i wanted princewitch fluff desperately and cant wait til october. inspired by the teaser quote she released yesterday and ‘dress’ by taylor swift

-

The ball raged on around her, dancers swirling around impossibly fast, flashes of fabric catching the light of the serpent scones. On and on, all without her. Her husband sat to her right on his larger throne, staring into nothing. They had exchanged all of five words that evening.

She did not blame her husband for his coldness, not truly. If their positions were switched, and she had been forced to marry a random demon while still loving and grieving her murdered spouse, she doubted whether she would even manage civility. Pride continued his business, barely taking notice of his young wife, and she was glad, of that, at least. If he’d wanted her... a shudder snaked down her spine, curling in her gut. Her mind still echoed with the unnatural violation of Lust’s magic, and the thought of another demon prince perusing her like that was foul. There was only one prince she wanted, and his sin was wrath.

Dancing in Hell was nothing like she’d seen on the streets of Palermo. Nothing like the carefree dancing of Vittoria, so full of light and life and love that nothing seemed to touch her. Here, movements entwined with danger, every dance a flirtation with living death. People danced with weapons, exchanging daggers and rondels and rapiers like secret lovers. Jewelled garrottes hung around every neck, poisonous pearls glittering in various ornate hairstyles. An unholy masquerade indeed.

Her own mask was a fine decoration of gold and jewels. Metallic serpents entwined across the mosaic-like surface, darker cracks embedded across it. The mask had arrived one evening at her rooms, wrapped in luscious velvet. No letter accompanied it, the only sign of the sender being a golden snake that slithered up her arm before dissolving into sparks. The decoration matched her dress, a similar mosaic of black silk, lace, and golden serpents. Truly befitting a queen.

Fury burned through her as she watched the revellers pass her by. They danced without a care, members of the seven houses intermingling freely. She wanted to scream and shatter the very throne she sat on. How dare they dance as if mere months ago, one of their own had not been taking the hearts of witches? As if she did not sit on a dead witch’s throne? A witch who still had not found justice, who’s body had been ripped to shreds in the cruellest way imaginable?

“Careful, little queen.” Pride’s voice rumbled in her ear. He still did not look at her, but leaned closer to whisper, “Lest the people learn your ungrateful thoughts.”

Closing her eyes to avoid murdering the demon she’d married, she took a deep breath. The air smelt like fire and spirits and the sweat of colliding bodies. Suddenly, the sight of it all disgusted her. The dancing, the drinking, the living, all of it. Selfish, she knew – others were allowed to live despite Vittoria being denied the very same. But she couldn’t help it. She longed for nothing more than her sister to live, even if it meant sacrificing her life to the demon beside her. There was nothing to be done, however. Her sister was lost forever.

The night dwindled on, interrupted by the occasional violent thought towards her situation. Though, as contrary as it sounded, not all was dark about her time in Hell. She had one bright spot, one flame in the dark. Something she kept locked against her chest for fear of discovery.

Casting her eye across the room, she caught the gaze of the hidden secret. Prince Wrath leaned against the wall from across the room, his eyes flickering as they locked with hers. He was dressed in a sinfully beautiful suit, a pattern of golden serpents slithering up the fabric from the floor. The snakes seemed alive in the firelight. Perhaps they were. A smug sense of satisfaction ebbed through her when she realised they matched. No one else would notice – serpents weren’t exactly an uncommon motif in Hell – but they knew, and it was comfort enough. With a movement, so small she nearly missed it, he tilted his head towards the exit.

A thrill raced through her, paired with genuine, loving excitement. They had not been alone in much too long.

Things had not always been so relaxed between her and the prince of Wrath. Her first few weeks in Hell had been spent furiously glaring in his direction. He’d given her the ultimate cold shoulder until she’d nearly burned from it. She’d been full of fury at his leaving her – at the humiliation she felt from having the human audacity to trust a demon. One day, when they crossed each other in a hallway heading to court, her temper had bubbled to boiling.

She remembered yanking him into a nearby room – he let her, she realised now – and yelled at him for the cruelty of leaving her alone. Of giving her hope and wrenching it away, like a child suddenly filled with jealously over a shared toy.

The sheer incredulity on his face was the first indication she was mistaken. He laughed, a sardonic sound coated in disbelief.

“I left you?” His voice was low. The walls around them seemed to thrum in response to his deadly power.

“I left you?” He repeated, “I gave you all the tools to summon me, witch, and you refused. Too good for my help, perhaps.  I have no more responsibilities to you. Our deal is done.”

Wrath turned to leave, but by some miracle, she managed to dart in front of him. Her body was pressed against the door, the cold stone mixing with the heat she felt roaring off him. Emilia should’ve been afraid, should’ve been trembling in her gifted boots at the sight of him, but she wasn’t. Why, she couldn’t quite tell.

His gaze burned into hers, but her own was just as powerful.

“I tried everything to summon you after what Envy did, and you didn’t come.” She hissed. The wrath of a prince was one thing, but hell hath no fury like a witch scorned. “You left me. I was foolish enough to believe you would ca- that you would come for me once, but I will not be fooled twice.”

The look he gave her was indiscernible. Equal parts rage mixed with... something lighter. If anyone else looked at her like that, she would’ve described it as hopeful. But demons did not hope, no more than they loved.

He was scanning her face with the focus of a battle-hardened warrior. Whatever it was he found made him take a step back.

“What did you do wrong?” He muttered, almost to himself.

“I did nothing wrong,” She couldn’t help but fire back, “I did everything correctly – even used the ring you left for me in the drawer.”

At that, he stilled. Stilled and stopped breathing entirely.

Then, as if talking to someone who’d sustained a head injury, he said, “I didn’t leave you a ring. I left you my house seal, solid gold, of course, but no ring.” He went on to describe where he’d left it – the top drawer beside her bed – but she already knew.

The conclusion settled in her stomach like a stone. Another feeling, one she didn’t let herself scrutinise, unfurled within her.

“Someone didn’t want me to summon you.”

“Close. Someone wanted you to think I wouldn’t come.”

A question hung in the air, so loud neither could bring themselves to give it voice.

Would you have come, Prince Wrath? Would you have come to my aid when I needed you most? When I needed to know you were alright?

Keeping those treacherous thoughts under lock and key, she focused on another facet of the curious mystery.

“Who would it benefit? And who would’ve known what to switch – the house was warded, was it not?”

Silence from her princely counterpart.  

“Would the wards collapse with your ‘death’?”

The look on his face told her all she needed to know. Someone had stolen into the house and replaced the seal with a ring to deliberately throw off their efforts. Which meant-

He hadn’t abandoned her at all. Given her the cold shoulder, yes, when he believed she’d forgotten all about him.

What a hellish mess this all was.

From that moment on, the demon and the witch had become begrudging allies once more. Wrath had been furious one of his brothers would dare interfere with his affairs, and she needed an ally, desperately. While it rubbed against her pride to accept help, she knew it would’ve been foolish to refuse. She would be a vengeful queen, but even queens needed council.

Their alliance had turned to friendship, then burst into royal flames as they look the leap to lovers. In the candlelight of a stolen moment, Wrath had held her with more care than she’d known possible. Still Wrath, still echoing that immense power of his, but softer, somehow. Not gentle, not truly, but tender. It was not love, but it was fire and anger and care all pieced together in a ball of desire.  

Which led her to that moment, as she stole away from her husband’s masquerade ball. She had stayed long enough, and the party celebrated nothing of importance. Rather a show of unity between her and Pride, a display of wealth and power.

As she left the throne room she realised she had no idea where her prince had gone. Back to his rooms? No, they avoided meeting there. Being caught together in casual rooms could be explained away as strategic briefings, but being caught in the bedroom of her husband’s brother... did not leave for much escape room.

Just as she was about to curse his name, a snake slithered around her ankle, causing her to start. Was that Wrath’s laugh, she heard? Looking to her feet, the snake stared back up at her, its golden eyes winking in the candlelight of the hallway.

Of course. Wrath and his dramatics.  

The snake made its way down the hallway, keeping close to the wall to be inconspicuous. It led her to an offshoot of the main hallway, then came to a halt at the final door. The serpent dissolved into golden sparks as they reached their destination. She knocked quietly before letting herself in.

Wrath lay stretched out across a dark velvet lounge, watching her entrance. His mask dangled lazily from his fingers, the ribbon used to tie it brushing across the floor. His shirt was unbuttoned halfway, a toned chest peeking out from the fabric.

Deadly, dangerously beautiful.

And hers.

“You look exquisite,” He strode across the room before taking her in his arms. His hands quickly untied her mask before tossing it to the floor with haste. He took in her form for a moment, then tilted his face down to capture her lips with his own.

No matter how many moments they stole, it was never enough.

His kiss was liquid fire igniting the flame of her desire. One hand rested against her back, with the other cupping her face. She gasped against his mouth, revelling in how desperately hard his body felt against hers. Greedy hands slipped up his chest to unbutton the rest of his shirt. Pulling the material away, Emilia broke the kiss for a single second to gaze at her lover.

Smooth, tanned skin met her eyes, followed by a swift appreciation of the hard strength that lay beneath his trousers. He laughed as he caught her gaze, knowing exactly what she was admiring.

He kissed her again, this time grabbing the backs of her thighs and lifting her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist. The taste of him- Taste was her speciality, but there were no words to describe how perfectly Wrath kissed her.

After too long and never long enough, the lovers parted for breath. He still held her against his chest. In this position, she was the perfect height to rest her head in the crook of his neck. Their breathing echoed through the room in perfect harmony.

She could feel every rise and fall of his powerful, tattooed chest. Such lethal power contained within his body, yet he held her with all the tenderness the world could offer.

“You know,” He mused, “We never got to dance.”

“Are you asking?” A sly smile in his direction.

“Yes. Witch, will you dance with me.” He said witch the way men said love. She looked down at him, grinning.

“No. I can’t dance.”

He laughed. Such a bright sound for one bathed in darkness.

“Liar.”

“Fine. I don’t dance, because I’m awful at it.”

A teasing hand ran down her back.

“I’ll teach you.” At her raised brows, he continued with, “A queen must use every skill in her arsenal.”

Lowering her to the ground, he held out his hands for her to grasp.

“Place your right hand in mine, and left against my shoulder.” Even through the fabric of his shirt, she could feel the heat roaring off him. When she did as he instructed, he pulled their bodies together until not even an inch separated them. Emilia was fairly certain this wasn’t part of the dance, but she wasn’t going to interrupt. She quite liked this position, pressed against the prince of Wrath, his breath rustling her hair. His hand settled against her spine.

“This next bit is the most important, do you hear? It is crucial even that beginners like yourself get this right.” He teased, and she scowled back at him, though they both knew it was merely in jest.

“Tilt your chin up so you can gaze adoringly into my eyes.” He grinned down her scowl. “I want you to focus on how handsome I am, how talented, and forget everything else. Except how much you want to kiss me.”

She couldn’t help herself, she laughed. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Perhaps.” His voice turned low and seductive as his hand slid down her spine, drawing her a little closer. “But you’re waltzing like a goddess now.” As he spoke, they started to move. Slowly, he stepped back and followed. To the side, and she followed again. On and on, their little box pattern continued, until Wrath picked up the paced and spun her around.

A gasp left her lips at the movement, but before she could overthink and stumble, he caught her once more with a smile.

“Who are you, and what have you done with the moodiest prince of Hell?”

He shook his head at her words, huffing a laugh as he did. She felt the truth bloom in his chest, he didn’t have to say it. These borrowed moments, these secret trysts... it was happiness, rare as it was, that fluttered between them. They both knew it couldn’t last, but for now, it was real. In that moment, it was all that mattered.

“Teasing witch,” He murmured, and kissed her. Kissed her as if they were not members of two rival houses, as if she was not an unwilling wife to his bastardly brother, as if there were not a chasm of reasons to keep them apart. Tomorrow would bring hellfire, and perhaps regret, but tonight was theirs.

They kissed until night dwindled away into day, and their secret was no longer safe. With the promise of “soon” and an unspoken “I miss you”, Wrath kissed her once more before exiting her side.

The queen of Hell picked up her mask from where it had been tossed across the floor, and stood still for a moment, taking a deep breath. The moment had passed, and she was no longer just Emilia, a powerhouse in her own right, and friend and lover of Wrath’s.

She was the Wicked Kingdom’s vengeful queen, and she would find her happiness once more, or burn the world trying.

-

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[yesttoheaven]

I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of ​​Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

[fromthedust]

Walter Arnold (American, working in Chicago)

recent posts on Instagram —  @ig_sculptor :

Point chisels or punches are used for roughing out, removing a lot of stone and getting the overall shape. Some of these shown are made for pneumatic hammers, others for use with wooden mallets on limestone, and still others are used with a soft iron hammer on marble. The orange one is used with a 2 or 3 lb steel hammer. They always need to be matched with the proper hammer.

Two point or two tooth chisels are interesting chisels, some carvers and stone cutters love them, but most don't use them at all. You can think of them as a pair of points, so they can move more stone than a tooth chisel, but leave a more regular surface than a point. Or you can treat them as a fine and delicate tooth chisel, getting into tighter areas.

Flat chisels refine the surface and shape the details.

Bull nosed chisels, also called Rondels, can be used to remove more stone than a flat chisel, or to create concave surfaces. They are used more often in harder stones like marble and some of the denser limestones.

Gouge tooth chisels can be very efficient on softer stones like limestone, quickly removing a lot of material cleanly without chipping or plucking out the stone.

Gouge chisels are very useful with softer stones, like limestone and sandstone. A variation on flat chisels, they are used both for concave and convex forms, and for digging into delicate areas. Unlike woodcarving gouges, stone carving gouges should only be sharpened on the inside of the curve or your cutting angle holding them to the stone will be ineffective.

Bush chisels are used to create a textured or frosted surface on the stone, often to create a background contrast or add interest to a flat architectural surface. The ones in this photo are used with pneumatic hammers and are held perpendicular to the face of the stone. Note there is one in the middle on the left that looks, in this photo, like a standard 5 tooth claw chisel. However, it has two parallel rows of teeth.

Miter chisels are flat chisels with the blade at an angle, particularly useful for lettering and cutting geometric architectural moldings.

Pitching tools are used early in the carving process to remove large amount of stone and rough out the block. They can also be used to create a rock faced edge around a block. They are typically used with a 3 to 4 lb hammer ( around 1 to 2 kg), but the two on the left with ball heads are used with large wooden mallets.

Unusual stone chisels, just a few of the rarer ones from my collection.

1. Wide bullnosed tooth chisel, for removing a lot of material and hollowing out large concave areas.

2. A blacksmiths blank from Granite City Tool Company, with the back end for the air hammer already shaped, so a smith can quickly forge any shape chisel from it.

3. A 1-1/2" wide mallet headed pitching tool, with the stamp of the Stortz Tool Company in Philadelphia. Founded in 1853, they are still in business and owned by the same family.

4. A broad chisel with 3/8" (1 cm) wide parallel teeth, held perpendicular to the face of the stone for cleaning out the bottom of narrow channels. Similar tools are used for cleaning out tuck pointing; however, this one is too wide and the teeth too fine and sharp; mortar is very abrasive and would ruin the sharp edges quickly.

5. A bushing chisel with replaceable blades.

6. A Scutch comb, also called a patent claw, with replaceable teeth.

7. A two bladed bushing tool, used perpendicular to the stone surface for levelling or texturing.

8. An old Italian chisel forged from an especially nice piece of steel. After years of use it either broke or became too short from repeated sharpening. The carver liked it so much that a blacksmith mounted it on a newer shank, giving it additional life.

Walter began sculpting stone at the age of twelve in his hometown of Chicago, Illinois. At twenty, he began training as an apprentice in the marble carving studios of Italy. He then worked for five years on the Washington National Cathedral in D.C., before returning to Chicago to establish his studio.

Stone carving tools have not changed significantly since the technique of forging steel was developed. The pneumatic hammer was introduced between 1885 and 1890 (powered by huge steam driven air compressors), and has pretty much replaced the wooden mallet and iron hammer. Carbide tipped tools began appearing in the middle of the 20th century. Many limestone carvers still prefer the old hand forged chisels, and keep a wooden mallet close at hand. The basic concepts of carved stone work haven’t changed much in thousands of years, even as the tools have slowly evolved.

The three basic types of chisels remain the same: a point for roughing out the stone, tooth chisels (also called claw tools) for shaping and modeling the forms, and flat chisels for the finished surfaces and details. Within each class there are endless variations; for example, gouges, bull-noses and miter tools are all variations on the flat chisel.

Walter carving a rabbit grotesque (one of a pair) installed on the west front towers of National Cathedral, Washington D.C.

Walter’s self-portrait at age 30 - Indiana limestone

www.stonecarver.com

@ig_sculptor

[dzaeklou]

LGBT Vocabulary  (French)

Since is its Pride Month and the Start of Pride celebrations around the world, I’m doing an LGBTQ+ for those travelling to French speaking countries for Sun, Sea and Sex. Full of terminology for sex, dating, celebrating and insults to listen out for. 

Identity

To be heterosexual / Être hétérosexuel to be straight / Être hétéro To be homoseuxal / Être Homosexuel(le) to be gay / Être Gay to be a lesbian / Être Lesbienne To be bisexual / Être bisexuel(l) to be bi / Être bi To be pansexual / Être pansexuel To be transgender / Être Transgenre

Pride

Gay Pride / La Gay Pride A Protest / Protestation Injustice / Injustice Equality / Égalité Homophobia / La homophobie Homophobe / Le Homophobe Discrimination / La Discrimination

Sexual Health

Condom /Capote To put a condom on / Mettre une capote Do you have a condom? / Tu as un capote? I have a condom / J’ai un capote I don’t have a condom / J’ai pas un capote Do you have? / Tu as..?

STD: Sexually Transmitted Disease

IST: Infection Sexuellement Transmissible

Hepatitis / L’hépatite Herpes / De l’herpès AIDS / Le sida

Gay Men

Types

Bear / Ours Bottom / Passif Cub / Ourson Daddy / Daddy Geek / Geek Jock / Sportif Otter /Loutre Poz / Séropo Smooth / Imberbe Top / Actif Twink / Minet/Crevette A Queen / Folle or Follasse

Bear Chaser - chaser

Sugarbaby - Giton

Insults

Ass-fucked / Enculé Ass Fucker / Enculeur Fag / Pede Faggot / Fifi

Sex

Discreet / Discret Dominant / Dominant Hook Up / Plan Cul Kink / Trips Leather / Cuir Submissive / Soumis /Sub

Have a quickie / Tirer un coup rapidos Fill you up / Te bourrer Pound your ass / T��exploser la rondelle Fuck in the ass /Enculer To Have a Hard On / Bander To Wank / Se Branler To Screw / Niquer To Fuck / Baiser To Get Laid / Se Fair Sauter To Cum - Jouir To Bend Someone Over / Baiser en levrette Suck my… / Suce moi.. Lick my… / Lèche moi Eat my / Bouffe-moi

You have such a tight..  / Ta .. est vraiment étroite Your … is so wet / Ta .. est tellement mouilée I wanna finger your / Je veux Mettre le doigt dans ta Can i eat your / Je peux bouffer ton/ta Can i drink your / Je peuix boire ton/ta Can i swallow you / Je Peux  t’avaler Can i suck you /Je peux te sucer

Take me from behind and cum in my ass Prends moi par derrière et jouis dans mon cul

Body Parts

Dick / Bite A big dick / Une grosse bite  A tiny dick / Une petite bite  A limp dick / Une bite molle  A half-boner / Un bande-mou

Balls / Les Couilles Nuts / Les bonbons Hung like a horse / Monté comme un âne

Ass / Cul Booty / Croupe Ass hole / Trou du cul

Orgasm.

Cum Jouir Shoot my load Lâcher la marchandise Bust my nut Balancer la sauce

Can I cum…? Je peux jouir…? in your mouth dans ta bouche in your ass dans ton cul on your face sur ton visage

Gay Women

Types

Butch / Butch Lipstick Lesbian  / Lesbienne Lipstick Gold Star / Étoile D’Or Feminine / Fem Futch / Futch/Bem Grazer / Brouteuse

Insults

Balasko Lesbian Bolès Lesbienne Derograty Term Truck Driver Camionnesue Grazer- brouteuse

Sex

Discreet / Discret Dominant / Dominant Hook Up / Plan Cul Kink / Trips Leather / Cuir Submissive / Soumis

Have a quickie / Tirer un coup rapidos To do cowgirl / S’emplarer la foufoune Go down on my pussy / Va t’occuper de mon minou Suck my… / Suce moi.. Lick my… / Lèche moi Eat my / Bouffe-moi

You have such a tight..  / Ta .. est vraiment étroite Your … is so wet / Ta .. est tellement mouilée I wanna finger your / Je veux Mettre le doigt dans ta Can i eat you / Je peux bouffer ton/ta Can i drink your / Je peuix boire ton/ta

Look at her nails, they’re too long, she's definitley single Regarde le bout de ses doigts, ils sont trop long, elle est définitivement célibataire!

Look at her nails, they’re nice and short Regarde le bout de ses doigts, ils sont bien et courts.

Body Parts

Tits / Les Nichons or Les Nénés Hooters / Les Nibards Boobs / Les Lolos Titties / Les Tétés Nipples / Mamelons Nips / Tétons Clit / Clito

Ass / Cul Booty / Croupe Ass hole /Trou du cul

Orgasm.

Cum / Jouir Squirt / Gicler Pussy Juice / Crème de ta frambroise