#as is above so below

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Blurb 2: Too Fast

I'M ALIVE! Thank you all for your patience :) I've had so many big life changes in the last four months (and in the coming months) - it's hard being an adult, people. I've been traveling (mainly visiting @lethalchiralium a bunch <3), planning a big move, looking to land a new job...all the things. Anyway! Please enjoy. Blessed be, and Happy Yuletide!

<< Previous | Next >>

“Si…”

“Hm?”

“He’s getting too big.”

Simon turned his chair slightly away from his desk to peek over his shoulder. In the doorway to their office stood Freyja with a six-month-old Arthur on her arm, clad in a cow-print onesie. The little hood was pulled up over his head, sporting fluffy little ears on top, along with a pair of horns. 

He just about melted when Frey pouted at him and sniffled, rubbing their son’s back. Simon was up in an instant, padding across the carpet to stand by her side, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his features. He bent his head a little and attempted to get the baby’s attention, gently brushing his back with his fingers “Art. Artie…” he hummed, the last syllable drawn out a bit. “Look at Dada, Art.”

Arthur did eventually turn his head, after a moment, preoccupied with gumming his toy and confused by the interruption. The hood that used to hang over his face and block his vision now sat snug on his fine hair. There was no need to adjust it back to meet his big, curious eyes. 

“Hi, pup.”

Simon wasn’t his preferred parent by any means; that privilege was reserved for his mum. Still, on seeing a familiar face, the baby smiled around his teething ring, and his fat cheeks chubbed up as he cooed and wiggled in Freyja’s hold. He pressed his hand between the two, his palm against Arthur’s chest, and took the infant onto his forearm, his little back against his chest. 

Simon let out a dramatic huff, kissed Art’s head, then patted his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he said, giving his wife a playful look. “Look at those big, manly legs of yours. Thing’s a bit tight on ye, now.”

The baby craned his neck, trying to look back at his dad as he spoke, and quickly getting frustrated and crying out. Simon chuckled and turned him around, supporting his neck and peppering kisses on Art’s rosy cheek. When he was satisfied, he leaned down for a quick kiss from Freyja.

“It lasted longer than I thought it would. He’s nearly busting out of it.”

“Simon!”

“What? He’s six months old, Freyja. He’s been wearing it since he was born. Oversized, might I add.”

“Shut up. It’s my favorite. My little moo cow.” 

“We can buy him a new one.”

“He’s growing too fast. I hate it.”

Don’t I know it?

To Simon, it felt like Artie had only been born yesterday. Where did the baby in front of him, who was sitting up on his own and already using a sign or two, come from? He had no idea, couldn’t say where the time went. God forbid he blinks, and suddenly he’ll be walking and chasing after his sister-

No. It’s fine. That’s what babies do, yeah? They start eating solids, learn to crawl, then walk. Then they go to their first day of primary school, then…secondary…

Stop it.

He settled for a soft, “I know, love.”

Arthur cooed up at him again, a sound known to pull easy smiles from the man. He would listen to it forever, if he could. 

“Yeah? Do you like that idea?” Simon asked, tracing patterns on Art’s back with his fingers again. “Do you want a new cow onesie?” A little smile from Art. “Alright, pup. Dad will get you one.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117, @halfmoth-halfman, @peachesofteal, @nirvanaaaonly, @ysljoon, @ssoliva, @fenixyrie, @voodoo-writer, @eleazarkate, @tomhardy41, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @captainquake42

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[life-series-losers-blog]

(how far down)

****

[mostlyghostlyy]

[filmtvtoday]

AS ABOVE, SO BELOW (2014) dir. John Erick Dowdle

[ocean-sunfish-worshipper]

the Great Mola Mola is a divine traveller, its perfect rubbery flesh grants it voyage from the ocean's surface to the vast depths of the mesopelagic. its body is the perfect vessel, it requires no swim bladder as it slips off into the abyss. words cannot adequately describe my mortal adoration for the Great Ocean Sunfish, may my humble attempt in ink and paper strive to capture even a sliver of its majesty.

from the depths of the mesopelagic to the glory of the sun! all hail the ocean sunfish 🙏🙏🙏

[as-is-above-so-below]

If anybody asked if they could translate my work or make fanart of it i would literally die

I never had people draw fanart for one of my fics or write something based on it, but I just know that that is such a high honor and show of love. I once had someone ask me if they could translate my fic in Chinese and I was like, wow, they love it enough to want to put time and effort into it to show it to more people.

[moonlight]

The only way out is down.

As Above, So Below (2014) dir. John Erick Dowdle

[maureen2musings]

my_soulwax

[caleod]

9-10-24 "Sun"

[miiilowo]

contender for funniest clip in any horror movie ever

[as-is-above-so-below]

Cardigan - John Price x F!Teacher!Reader

Part 2: Midnight Rain

summary: you get yourself in a pickle a/n: hi! I return again! I'm sorry it's short, but I'm trying a new method of posting. Instead of aiming for a specific word count (which leads to me getting writer's block and not posting ANYTHING), I write until I'm satisfied with what I'm trying to achieve. Hopefully, I've achieved that goal, and y'all like it :) Blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

You drummed your fingers against the notebook in your lap and gnawed on the top of your pen. It was late, even by your standards; the sun had long since set, and dinner eaten hours ago. But you were up, sitting in the dark in your living room, heavy rain pelting your old windows. You were trying to pull together a new lesson plan for the following day. A few curious students had started asking questions about the modern military. Like, key differences between military strategies used in the time they were studying and today. And, of course, yet again, you made promises that you were struggling to keep. And you always keep your promises to your students.

Fuck.

The internet wasn’t helping at all. You didn’t study military strategy in any of your courses. Was that even a thing?

The last thing you wanted to do was call him. You were so confident that you could solve your problem yourself, at nine o’clock. Now, it was past midnight, and you were absolutely desperate.

Fuck.

Before your tired brain can flood with guilt and change its mind, you grab your phone from your nightstand and tap into your recent calls log. Your stomach churned, anxiety bubbling up with every trill. God, it’s so fucking late to be calling. It felt like you were split in two. One half of you was praying that his phone was on silent (you know it’s not) or he’ll sleep through the ringing (he won’t), while the other–the miserable, exhausted half–needed him to pick up.

The latter won out.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

John’s deep, sleepy voice made you feel guilty and incredibly happy that you’d woken him up. Soft and grumbly, rolling in his chest; it made you feel soft and warm inside…

Not the point of the call.

“Hi, John. I’m completely fine, I just…” You took a deep breath, the heel of your free hand pressed into one of your dry, worn-out eyes. “I know you’re this big important captain, and you have work in the morning, but I’m in a bit of a pickle and need a massive favor.”

There was a slight rustling on the other end like he had turned slightly to check the nearby time. “It’s one o’clock in the morning, love,” he mumbled.

You felt even worse. “I know, I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me,” you begged, running a hand over the top of your head. “One of my kids asked about the military. It sparked a whole discussion in class, and I may have overstated my knowledge. I barely know anything about it, and my brain is turning to mush. I’m so tired I wanna cry, and-”

He quickly cut off your rambling. “Woah, hey. Slow down there. What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly sounding much more awake. 

That brought you pause. You honestly hadn’t thought what you would ask if John actually answered the phone through. It was one o’clock in the morning, which John had correctly pointed out, and your brain wasn’t operating at full capacity. 

“I was…wondering if you could give me a lesson. Because I’m super tired, and I like to hear you talk.”

“…You do?”

“Yeah. I’ve learned a lot from you just…talking to me? But I’m a history teacher. I’m an expert on wars, not war.”

There was some shuffling on the phone. On the other line, John was leaning over the edge of his bed, searching blindly for his little pocket planner in the pile of clothes on the floor. The rustling stopped when he placed the device on his pillow, rifling through the calendar. He sniffed and was quiet for a moment, while you nibbled anxiously at your pen. Again.

The silence finally broke with a tired sniffle from John. “I can do you better. Why don’t I come to your classes tomorrow?” he asked.

You froze, pen still between your teeth. John? Coming to your school? Spending the day with your students? That would be the equivalent of introducing your boyfriend to your children. 

“…Really?”

“Sure.”

Could you even call him your boyfriend? You’d been on a few dates, sure, over the last…two months? No, it was closer to three. Had it been that long already? You did some quick math in your head. You’d gone on about one date a week, with a few canceled due to last-minute commitments. Still, about one date a week, over three months…

Holy shit.

“John, I’m sure you’re busy. I couldn’t-”

“Not at all,” he hummed, cutting you off. “Besides, it would take me ‘til class tomorrow to give you a good enough rundown, and the boss loves shite like this.”

“I thought you were the boss?”

You could practically hear a small smile tugging at John’s lips. The expression was a familiar one. The corner of his mouth quirked up, shifting his beard and creating happy wrinkles near his eyes. His nose would scrunch up a bit, too, especially if you were out in cold weather. 

“Everybody has a boss, sweetness. Myself included.”

Christ. Not the pet names. And especially not in the tired, gravelly tone his voice was currently in. John Price was going to be the death of you, even in his unfocused state.

You unfolded your legs from underneath you and moved your notebook onto the coffee table. Your resolve was fading, and you couldn’t be bothered to argue. While you did feel bad about dragging John to your school to fix the problem you created, you weren’t sure you had any other option. Accept defeat? To a group of teenagers? Absolutely not. You’d never live it down. You sighed, rubbing tiredly at your eyes. “If you’re sure…”

“I am.”

A soft smile crossed your face. “Is this just a ploy to meet my kids?”

“Maybe.”

Your sleepy giggles were like music to John’s ears. The sound alone was worth the favor. As if he wouldn’t have done it anyway, just to ease your stress. He would take any and every opportunity to make your day easier or make you happy. What he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh in person, laying beside you in your bed–

No. John’s a good man. A gentleman, he would say. A man who was perfectly capable of not acting on his urges and thoughts. At least, not in person. However, in the privacy of his own home? That was a different story.

“Thank you so much, John.”

Right. You’re still on the phone. He heard a soft click on your end of the call.

“That’d better be you closing your laptop, I’m hearing.”

“It is.”

“Good girl.” You blushed furiously. Fuck. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.”

taglist: @novausstuff, @cutiecusp, @ittosbigfatmantitties, @helpimhyperfixating, @hihhasotherfixations, @dugiioh, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @lethalchiralium

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[as-is-above-so-below]

YES! Somebody finally put it into words!

This is exactly how I feel. You have to use your imagination when you're reading xreader. The author might add siblings, or parents, family history, personal history, that I as a reader may not have. Plus, I say from experience, character building without using any descriptors (especially physical) that may cut out a certain reader is SO HARD.

Using The Captain as an example, not every reader is going to be able-bodied and physically fit like Freyja is. I'm not anywhere near athletic enough to perform the way she does. Freyja IS the reader, but she's also a role we, as readers, play.

Thanks @lovebugcody for articulating this so well :)

maybe it's just me and how i read x reader fics, but other than keeping my name, i see x reader fics as being cast in a role. actors aren't always from the same country as the character they play (recent example being australian jacob elordi playing a brit in saltburn).

as a reader, Bun gets my face, my body, but she is a role i'm playing when i'm reading. i've cast myself as Bun to be loved by soap and ghost, but she isn't me.

(maybe also because i'm australian and if the reader is given a nationality in english xreader fics, they're damn near never aussie, so i am used to playing the role)

I do the same! Can totally relate, I think it’s the best way to read /reader fics for sure. 🖤

[goldensunset]

i’ve been thinking about the pokémon memes where it’s like playing off of that one quote that’s like ‘truly strong trainers should try to win using their favorites’ and it’s like ‘ok well my favorite is [something blatantly overpowered]’ and it’s got me curious. how many people genuinely love pokémon that also happen to be really strong competitively?

so if you will. pick a favorite pokémon (for any reason! whether it’s cuteness or strength or nostalgia etc. no judgment) then go here https://www.smogon.com/dex/sv/pokemon/ and look it up

(you’ll see something that looks like this. see where it says tier and has some gibberish afterwards? don’t worry if you don’t know what that means but tell me what the letters/words are)

also if there are multiple forms and the distinction matters to you make sure you get the right one lol cuz the tiering can be different

edit: forgot to mention i mean specifically in SV! which is what comes up by default. rip every pokémon that either isn’t in SV (it’ll say ‘national dex’) or used to be better but has since fallen off relative to new pokémon

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: found footage

[horroredits]

As Above, So Below (2014) dir. John Erick Dowdle

[as-is-above-so-below]

“Therapy. Therapy, I beg you.”

Writers,

What would your character say to you if they had the opportunity to meet you?