#before even knowing how I use the book in practice not just in theory

[oldmanyellsatclouds]

I started a commonplace book in I think 2020? And then didn’t actually use it much because of how poor my executive functioning has been. I’m trying to get back into it now, despite the still poor executive functioning.

I’m bringing this up now because my commonplace book is a hilariously apt example of the principle I mentioned in my table of contents artwork (can’t remember the specific wording so I’m paraphrasing myself here): why do you immediately fail after deciding the parameters for success? (Poorly paraphrased… )

The fact that it’s phrased as a question makes sense in the specific context of the artwork but sounds a bit weird out of context when treating it as a principle. The idea isn’t that I actually have an answer for why, just that it’s a notable trend where, when trying to set up a structure or rules by which to do something/live, I’ll immediate fail/break structure/abandon the rules. Like new year’s resolution diets.

Back to the perfect illustration of this principle in my commonplace. If you’re into commonplacing, you’ll know that it’s basically just a collection/reference book of quotes and information that’s interesting and important to you, specifically, but an important part of it is figuring out a system to organize that information so you’re able to refer back to the information you collect. When you’re writing things down by hand in a bound notebook like I am, it’s kind of hard to physically organize your notes unless you have multiple books or separate the book in sections (which requires you to guess at how much space each topic will require). I didn’t want to do that, so at that point index pages, table of contents, and visual organizing principles become important.

So at the very start of my commonplace book I decided my key organizing principles. I’d write quotes (the majority of the text in the book) in green, my words (comments, paraphrasing, organizational headers etc.) in purple, and underline and make key information pop with red.

I would have table of contents at the beginning, organized by category, like an index.

(eg: topic A: p. 1-10, 23-27, 45/ Topic B: p. 11-17, 28-31, 55-67 / Etc.)

Then I would have a bibliography at the end, which is just listing the articles (or other media) collected in the book in order of appearance

So what did I do, immediately after writing down these principles? I wrote the second page all in red instead of green, and I wrote (right under “in order of appearance”) the bibliographical information of the second article I included in my book.

It’s just an absolute picture perfect example of setting up parameters and immediately stomping all over them. Not on purpose mind you. Anyways…. I guess that’s one way to unconsciously fight my perfectionist tendencies. Nothing like making glaring mistakes right off the bat to make you less afraid of making mistakes going forward.

This has probably been a long and tedious read if anyone did bother to read, but I find it hilarious.

[justrymesblog]

Before you read this, I want you to know that this message might be hard to hear, but it could also be the beginning of the change you’ve been seeking.

Many of us, myself included, spend our lives searching for a savior, an epiphany, or something external to rescue us: a book, a speech, a mentor, a sign. We think that this one thing will open the doors to a better life. We cling desperately to small details, convincing ourselves they’re the confirmation we need to keep going: mirror numbers on a clock, a fallen feather, a butterfly crossing our path. We say, “It’s a sign from the universe, I’m on the right track”—all while staying trapped in a cycle we hate but find so hard to escape.

We often become slaves to the material world. We buy talismans, books, or listen to subliminal audios on repeat, seeking immediate results: “Why isn’t this audio working?”, “How many times do I need to listen to it to see a change?” We even sleep with headphones on, hoping it will speed up the process, yet the change never seems to come.

I understand you because I’ve been there.

It took me years to escape that cycle. Years of feeling lost, stuck, tied to my own thoughts and patterns. I spent months not knowing what to do, always ending up back at the same point. I turned to religions where I never felt truly at home. I prayed in churches, temples, and altars, waiting for miracles that never came. I lived believing that something external would change my destiny, but each attempt only led to disappointment. The reality? Nothing changed—or worse, things got even harder.

Then I realized: the only salvation comes from within.

We are the architects of our lives. Our minds are the most powerful tool we have. There are no limits beyond the ones we impose on ourselves. Imagine something unimaginable—a dream, a reality that seems impossible—and yet, you have the power to manifest it! But here’s the challenge: you must truly believe it. You must understand that you are in complete control.

If you want to be wealthy, you can achieve it. If you desire perfect health, unconditional love, travel, or anything else, it’s within your reach. Nothing is too big or too small for your creative power. But first, you must let go of limiting ideas like, “I wasn’t born rich” or “My life would have been different if I had better advantages.” These thoughts are just chains you’ve placed on yourself.

The first step to change is to take full responsibility for everything that has happened in your life. Yes, everything. It’s difficult, but that’s the key: accepting that you created your current reality, which means you also have the power to transform it.

If you’re tired of living the same way, PUT AN END TO IT.

Dare to change. Break free from everything that limits you. Rebuild your story from scratch. One of my favorite phrases always reminds me:

"When you see no way out, remember: the end is the beginning of everything."

Did you know there are scientific experiments that prove the incredible power of our minds? The CIA has documented studies on practices like remote viewing, where individuals can perceive things beyond space and time. These studies are not theories or pseudoscience—they are real evidence of our infinite potential.

There are also studies about how our thoughts impact matter. Researchers like Masaru Emoto demonstrated how our emotions and words can alter the molecular structure of water. If our words can affect something as tangible as water, imagine what they can do to your life, your cells, and your entire reality.

The limits don’t exist, except in your mind.

Life is as malleable as clay in the hands of a sculptor. And you are the sculptor. The question is no longer “What can I achieve?” but “What can’t I create?”

The time you have is precious. Use it to build the life you truly want, because the only obstacle standing between you and your dreams is you. The key is to believe and to act from that powerful force within you.

Remember: nothing is impossible. The moment to transform your life begins now.

[sp1d3rzz]

PLS DO MORE PERVERT!MIDORIYA 🙏🙏

Pervert!Midoryia

pt.2

pt.1 here pt.3 here

WARNING !! : Pervy drawings and fantasized descriptions, and mention of a boner. Let me know if I missed anything.

Summary : Bullying Midoriya was meant for fun, purely to keep you entertained. That is until he begins to fantasize about your actions.

A/N : Thank u so much for the req anon (о´∀`о) Keep sending in requests my loves !

It's horrible of him, and he knows that. To obsess and fetish over the one thing in his life that keeps him on a constant edge. His bully.

When you first began to pick on Midoriya, he figures that he'll just keep a safe distance. He doesn't bother you, and you don't bother him.

But once it becomes a daily game of cat and mouse, he realizes there must really be no escape to this. And he especially realizes that when he begins to fantasize about all you do to him.

The way his name sounds coming out of your mouth gets him hot all over. Immediate goosebumps that become easily noticeable if you pay attention.

Or when you throw an insult at him to hurt his feelings and ruin his self esteem, but it only gives him a boner because he likes the feeling of you putting him where he belongs.

You don't even notice till the day you snag his journal.

"What's the deal with this notebook of yours, huh?" your arms reach over from behind him and snatch the burnt, rusted notebook. You can tell he's had this for awhile.

Caught off guard, he quick fwips! around to grab it back. "Wait! Don't-" his face falls when he sees the spine bend open as your eyes scan over a page.

His cheeks gets red to the point his freckles are barely visible, and he scrambles to stand from his seat and take back his journal.

Though you quickly stop him with a hand to his chest to push him back down. "So defensive." You huff with a shake of your head.

You flip through a couple more pages as Midoriya stares at you in horror. He really hopes you dont get to the one page, he'd die if anyone were to see it.

His heart is racing, and his hands are trembling, anxious to know what you might do. Maybe you'll throw his book away? Maybe slap him and tell the whole class about his dirty secret?

The world is against him, because as soon as he thinks that, he sees your grin curve into a face of disgust.

Your eyes widen as you now go over every page more carefully, taking your time to actually analyze it. And he swears he's going to dig his own grave if you continue.

But when you slowly close the journal, and clear your throat with a flushed face, he gets confused. Why aren't you mad at him?

"Dork.." you mumble before shoving the notebook into his face and walking away.

Your friends follow behind you, asking why you let him off so easy this time. Though a small, 'felt nice today' leaves your lips so they quit pestering you.

But what they don't know is how Midoriya has written pages and pages all filled with you and your information. From the sketches of you when you don't notice he's there, to anatomy practice of your naked body he had imagined.

The top to bottom pages filled with filthy theories on what you might taste like, how you prefer sex, and the toys you may use.

The most noticeable thing was a drawing of you at an angle behind his head. Mouth agape with eyes teary and stained with mascara. He had you on his lap, green hair tangled from your hand clenching it.

One things for sure, you'll never see that nerd the same again.

[jenchan-writingmultis]

What do the dorm leaders + a few more students do when you leave them without saying goodbye / you go missing? (Series: Part 2)

──────⊱⁜⊰──────

Genre: Fluff/ Angst

Pairing: Leona x Gn Reader

A/n: Ooh It took me a while to create an update of this, I’m still in my second semester hell but I got a bit of time! So, I decided to write something for our dearest Lion, also I wanted to note that I’ll be doing this based on the book chapters, for example, Riddle First, Leona Second, Azul Third, and so on… I hope you like this part! I loved writing every part of it.

Credits: The design was made by me in Canva and the art that was used is all from the Official Twisted Wonderland Cards.

Warning: Cussing, OOC Crowley (lmao), smitten Leona, slight blood mention Masterlist Part one (Riddle x Gn Reader)

──────⊱⁜⊰────── Sypnosis: You went off already, actually, they didn’t even know where you were right now, Grimm was worried about you, where have you gone? You just vanished into the mirror that you were talking to every midnight, he knew that he should have listened to his gut feeling when he realized that you were warning him about your sudden disappearance. The moment he went dashing out of Ramshackle, paws cold from the snow that he stepped on and it was really bad that when he needed Hornton he wasn’t there.  Savanaclaw:

Leona: He was annoyed when Grim started screaming outside of his dorm in the middle of the night causing all beastmen to wake up due to his ruckus, but his annoyance vanished when he realized what the furball was saying. You were gone, while he looked indifferent outside, telling Grim to calm the fuck down because he can easily hear him without him screaming in his ears, he was a bit worried. (Just a bit)

“Oi, can you tone down your screaming?” he grabbed Grim by the collar as the kitty sobbed, “Calm down, we’ll help” He sighed, causing Ruggie to stare at him surprised, “What do you mean we?” Leona scoffed before he threw Grim at him. 

“This furball will just keep on screaming if we leave him” He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. Ruggie huffed “Well, it’s surprising for you to immediately agree to help though” he whispered to himself, Leona could clearly hear him, but he ignored what the other said. It was rare for you to leave Grim all alone, you two were practically attached to the hip, so you vanishing out of nowhere was odd, did you finally get back to your homeland? You didn’t talk about it, but he can see how you look at others when they’re with their families and he knows that look. It was a look he had when he was younger, when Farena was the golden child, and he was the black sheep. 

He wanted that kind of familial love from his parents before, but they never gave it to him. You probably missed your family in your original world, he understands the feeling, but he can’t help but feel a bitter ache in his heart. Did he and the others not make you feel at home here? Sure, they overblotted and probably could have killed an herbivore like you, but he’s a changed man, surely you didn’t leave because you got sick of him or the others, right?

Of course, he went to interrogate Grim, asking him various questions, and after a few hours of barking orders to his fellow beastmen, he went to Crowley personally to ask, he was running out of options, and he was starting to feel that his theory that you went home was right. The last time Grim saw you was you got sucked in the mirror that was inside your bedroom. He tried to check on that mirror too, he didn’t feel any type of magic in it, it was just an ordinary mirror. You’d know he’s already at the edge of his seat trying to find you when he asked Crowley out of all people for help, denying the feeling in his gut that you were truly wiped out of this world.

“You’re saying that the prefect vanished?” Crowley put his hand on his chin, he was a bit annoyed about how calm Crowley was, and he crossed his arms glaring at the guy. “Did you send them home?” He questioned, getting straight to the point, which made Crowley shake his head “No, I didn’t, I have yet to find the portal back to their homeland, but this is certainly worrisome, I’ll try to help you find them, and can you summon the other head wardens for a meeting?” Crowley walked past him, Leona’s eyes following him. “I’ll be getting the teachers involved, this is a missing student case after all” He murmured, now that’s the sight he likes to see, somehow his opinion of Crowley increased. He guessed Mc became important to him as well. 

However, despite the ton of effort to find you, none of them got any leads, the ache he was feeling from before got worse, he found himself awake than asleep most of the time, his head was aching, it was affecting his health too. When the housewarden meeting along with the teachers happened, of course, the majority of them volunteered to have their housemates search for you outside and inside, Crowley couldn’t get any officers involved since you weren’t officially in Twisted Wonderland, you were a walking unregistered herbivore; it was dangerous, it could get the school closed so he had to ask his staffs and students to help around, which no one complained. Everyone cared for you, you helped them one way or another; helped them grow as a person and as a mage, it made him fascinated that you get to change almost everyone in this school in just a few months of your presence, and you’re magicless even. 

The improvement of the school happened because of you, and you just vanished out of thin air just like that, like some God who graced everyone with their presence only to leave once everything was sorted out. What about him? 

Leona couldn’t help but feel numb, eyebags evident on his face, it was so unlike him to be overworking trying to find you, you were just a herbivore to him, someone who had the audacity to annoy him before just to gain his help. Ruggie was worried about him too, the guy tried to ease him into that he would try to use his “connections” to gain more manpower to search the whole twisted wonderland, it made him laugh, he was a second prince, he had more connections that can help with the search than Ruggie, plus he knew that you weren’t here anymore. He couldn’t accept it at first,��it was just slapped on his face multiple times.

Your scent continued to fade as the days continued, he didn’t have any motivation to do anything else but try to find you, find you, and find you for the first few weeks health be damned, but when you manifested in his mind, festering him to do something else, to try to finish third year, then maybe during internship he can find leads to you. He decided that if he plans to continue to persevere, then he will. After all, he was known for his tenacity before. 

Ruggie was surprised when one day, Leona started to become focus on his studies, Leona was sometimes going to class, just enough to the point he could be promoted to 4th year, where he could do internships.  He thought that Leona might have forgotten about you, which kind of annoyed him, was Leona only good at doing stuff in the first place and abandoning it once he realized it was futile? Of course not! Ruggie slapped his cheeks and shook his head, Leona could never, he’s mischaracterizing his Housewarden. 

While the search died down, plenty of students gave up because they kept reaching dead end after dead end in their search. Grim was often with Ace and Deuce, he noticed that the furball lost a lot of weight and he often seemed out of it. Most of the students who knew Grim understood the devastation of losing someone whom he treated as family. They try to get Grim to eat more, but he always ends up either overeating or not eating at all, the only housewardens who get him to eat normally are Vil and Riddle who have strict diets for him. Riddle is more lenient due to knowing Grim longer than Vil. 

The housewardens get split custody of the Cat, and the main custody being with Riddle, Ace, and Deuce. Leona barely gets any time with Grim, and when he does, he usually just gives him to Ruggie. One time, Grim got really upset at him though.

Leona flinched in pain, blood seeping out of his arm, a scratch mark forming on it. Jack jolted and grabbed Grim’s arms, subduing him immediately. “Grim! What are you doing!?” Jack yelled out, gripping on the squirming cat. 

 “You! Out of everyone here, you’re the one who’s always so calm and relaxed!” Grim cried out, glaring at the Lion. Leona glared at him as he used his magic to heal his arm. “Do you even care! You just gave up after a few months!” He continued, biting Jack making Jack let go out of pain, and when Grim jumped on Leona. He got grabbed by the scuffle. 

 “What makes you think I stopped trying to find them?!” Leona snapped, gripping on the cat, as if he’s a cub misbehaving, this was annoying, people thinking that he doesn’t do a lot when in fact he’s been giving more than just effort  “You think I’m not trying my best here!?” He lets Grim go who is surprised at his outburst. “Shit” He pinched the bridge of his nose, Jack carrying Grim again. “I’m really sorry Leona” He apologized on Grim’s behalf, but Leona just waved him off. “It’s fine,” he said, looking down at the cat. “But I want you to understand that some people just prefer doing work behind the scenes, just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean they’re not trying.” 

He really was trying. The you that was cuddling him in his dreams, playing with his hair and kissing him, telling him to do his best. That had kept him sane while trying to find you. It was stupid and pathetic, but at least he knew that somehow, he never forgot your face, your scent, and your voice even if it took years. Even once he graduated, even if Falena tried to set him up with other Beastwomen or some high-ranking princess. He rejected them all, in favor of waiting for you, despite not knowing if you’ll ever come back. 

He never even got to tell you his feelings before you vanished, if he did would that make you not go back to your own world? Even after a few years, your friends had already graduated, he was working in Sunset Savanna, temporarily because his brother asked him for help, he was busy jumping from place to place to maintain connections and build new ones so while his brother is gone, he was the one in charge, Cheka was already in Junior High school dreaming of getting inside Royal Sword Academy where his friends would be around as well as his father encouraging him to enroll there due to being an alumni, and his sister in law kept festering Leona about mates and stuff. 

Right, did he tell you that he kept the mirror that you vanished from to his room? When he finally graduated, he felt that he needed the mirror, so he decided to buy it from Crowley, who graciously gave him the mirror without any complaints. Sometimes, he looks at himself in the mirror, hoping to see you behind it. He really wishes you would come back. 

He went to sit down on the edge of his bed, sliding himself into the covers, his bed feeling cold and needing another, he stared at the ceiling, wishing in his mind that when he woke up, you’d be there, touching his cheek. 

Drifting into sleep, he dreamt of you again, a dream that he saw multiple times after you vanished, his head laying on the soft plush of your thighs, he stared up at you, who was looking down at him with a soft smile, he nuzzled the hand that you placed on his cheek, placing his hand on it as he guides your hand to his lips, kissing it. 

 “I miss you” he murmured in his dream, your hand felt incredibly warm and soft right now, it felt… real. Maybe whatever Deity from above decided to pity him today and give him your touch that he was constantly seeking.

He didn’t want to wake up, the warmth of the sun hitting his body except for his face which you were shielding it from. The moment he lifted himself up, to go nearer your face, he wanted to kiss you now or else he might never feel this surreal experience ever again, a blinding light suddenly flashed in his vision, causing him to flinch. 

 “Oh, sorry Leona” a familiar voice apologized, making him groan and blink a few times, was he still dreaming? He felt his head resting on something else and not his pillow, it felt softer. When he finally was fully awake, he realized that he was in fact, not dreaming anymore. He looked up only to see you, in the same position as you did in his dream. 

“Herbivore…” he froze as you rubbed his cheek gently. “Yes, I’m here” You hummed as you pushed away a bit of his hair just to see his face better. “Oh wow, Leona you became prettier!” you giggled, causing him to sit up, grabbing your cheeks, he examined you. He can’t believe it, it really is you, he’s not dreaming anymore. 

“How? What?” he questioned, glaring at you maybe this was a trap, if this was some doppelganger or some shapeshifter, he’d turn you to dust, but the way you weren’t scared of his glare made his will falter, you were warm, you were there, your scent was there too, nobody can replicate that.  “Herbivore you’re back” he finally caved in, pulling you into a crushing hug, which you gave back happily. “I’m back Leona, I’m sorry I vanished,” you said, burying your face into his shoulder. “You idiot, I definitely deserve an explanation for this” He growled out, not letting you go at all. 

Word Count: 2,359

[mistiell]

When you're lost in the Darkness

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion suspects that you're afraid of the dark. What he doesn't know, is that not only will he soon be proven right, but he severely underestimated just how severe your fear is.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, hurt/comfort, nyctophobia, brief description of panic attack, possibly ooc Astarion, literally one use of y/n

A/N: Hey hi hello, I am back from the void for now. I would like to make a disclamier: I have not yet played BG3!! So, if anyone is out of character, I apologize!

---

Astarion has a theory.

A small and rather unimportant one, but a theory nonetheless.

It started when he noticed the way you set up your bed roll when the group makes camp for the night. You’re always as close to the fire as you can be without lighting yourself aflame, and when it dims to a certain point, he’s watched you rouse out of a dead sleep to stoke the coals and add more fuel. At first, he thought perhaps you were just prone to chills – he knows some people run cold when they sleep – but after lingering after one of your shared nights together, he came to realise that you’re actually more like a mostly-human furnace.

Then he noticed the way you linger around any sort of light source like a moth to a flame after the sun has set, and the way you fidget and glance over you shoulder every few minutes on the off chance your back is to the darkness.

He finds it strange. Granted, he thinks you’re strange for a variety of other reasons, but this pattern of behaviour is particularly puzzling to him. Which has lead him to his theory;

“You’re afraid of the dark.” He jests after watching you glance into the woods for the umpteenth time, aiming for teasing and realising he’s missed when your face falls into something akin to shame and discomfort.

You try to cover it with a scoff, rolling your eyes in a way he knows is meant to feign indifference, “I have far worse things to fear than the dark.” You spit those last two words, as if they taste bitter on your tongue. Firelight dances in your eyes as you keep your gaze trained firmly on him, even despite how much you look like you want too search for whatever it is you’ve convinced yourself is out there, intent on disproving him.

“True,” He smirks with a practiced ease, suddenly – strangely – desperate to ease the tension he’s just created, “But should you ever find yourself too afraid to sleep alone,” He leans in just a smidgen closer, grinning coquettishly, “My arms are always open.”

You snort, the tension in your shoulders ebbing just so as you chuckle, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

“By all means, keep me in your thoughts as long as you wish, darling.” He hums, smile just a little softer than he intends when you genuinely laugh at that, the sound sweet and airy as it bubbles up from your throat.

“And with that, I’m off to bed.” He nearly mistakes incredulousness for fondness, but catches himself as you stand. Turning back for just a moment, you give him a smile so soft, it makes is gut twist with a feeling he’s a little unsure of, “Goodnight, Astarion.”

If he’d fed more recently, he’s sure his cheeks would be flushed. He blinks, clears his throat, “Sleep well, my sweet.”

Only days later, his theory is proven correct when you stumble upon some sort of abandoned cottage – House? Astarion’s not entirely sure – and, upon Gale’s insistence that it could be useful, decide to search it for wares.

“You do know there’s likely nothing of use in here, don’t you?” Shadowheart sighs impassively as she thumbs through a tattered book, slotting it back into place where she found it once she’s deemed it useless.

Gale huffs and rolls his eyes, “Well, we won’t know until we look, will we?”

“We won’t be finding much of anything if you two don’t quit your squabbling.” You quip before turning your attention back to the chest you were searching. You just barely lean into Astarion’s space, grinning impishly. He leans in just a little closer – only to hear you better, of course – as you whisper, “They’re like children, I tell you.”

Something shatters. You both turn just as Shadowheart fixes Gale with a stern look, “Hells, Gale, pay attention to where you’re going!”

“Wh- It’s not my fault!” Astarion raises a brow at their bickering, tutting amusedly, “Children, indeed.”

Huffing a laugh, your attention slides to a door on the far side of the room and move to investigate. After trying the handle and finding it jammed, it takes a good shove to get it open. The only thing that illuminates the small pantry is the light filtering in from the door you’ve just opened.

You seem content to simply skim over the contents of the room from where you’re standing until you spot something of interest, eyes lighting up with a little gasp.

Astarion takes your place in the doorway as you rush into the room after propping the door open with a nearby pail, curious, “What have you found?”

Snatching a little tin box off a shelf, you open it and beam, “Oh, I haven’t had this in ages!”

“What?” He asks again, a little impatient.

You hold it out to him, and when he comes closer to look over the lip of the tin, he finds a fair amount of shredded, aubergine coloured leaves inside.

He looks back to you, confused, “Tea?” “Tea.” You grin, holding it up to your nose and closing your eyes to revel in the fruity scent, “I don’t know what it’s called, but it’s delicious.”

With how delighted you are over finding it, he doesn’t doubt it.

“Well, at least we can tell the others our searching wasn’t in vain.” He turns, “Settle that dispute between Gale and Shadowhear-.” The toe of his boot bumps the pail, sending it rolling as the door swings shut and swathes the room in darkness.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but eventually, the door comes back into view, only now the faded sage green paint is a dull grey.

Just as he moves for the door, he’s startled by the clattering of metal and a loud bump. He whips around to ask what in the hells just happened, but the words die in his throat when he finds you pressed flat against the shelves on the far wall – which really isn’t that far considering there’s only about six feet between the two of you. He can hear your heart racing from where he’s standing, your breaths quick and shallow.

That theory he had just got a lot more important.

He calls your name and you flinch, gaze flitting in his general direction but never settling on him. You look well and truly petrified. “Darling, are you alright?”

It’s a terrible question considering you are very visibly not alright, but he can’t seem to come up with anything else fast enough.

“I can’t–.” Your voice cracks and you swallow, looking dreadfully close to tears as you squeeze your eyes shut and cover your face with your hands, “I can’t see you. I can’t see anything.”

“Hang on,” After trying the handle, he finds the door is jammed no matter how hard he yanks. He considers calling for Karlach or Wyll, but thinks better of it, not wanting to frighten you further. They’ll notice the two of you are missing and come looking eventually.

“Astarion.” His name from your lips pulls him from his thoughts. He usually loves hearing you say his name, even when your cross with him. But when it comes out like a pitiful mix between whisper and whimper, he finds his heart twists uncomfortably in his chest.

He turns back to you and stalls. Unsure, helpless. He wants desperately to comfort you, but he has no idea how. He goes over the many different ways he could try, and the many different ways you could react, before finally, “Tell me what you need.”

After a moment of hesitation, you hold out a trembling hand and he steps forward to take it without a second thought. You tense when his skin first meets yours, palms wet with tears as your breath hitches. You tug him closer to wrap your arms around his middle and cling to him like a lifeline, shaking terribly as you bury your face into his neck. He secures you to him with an arm around your back and a hand cupped over the nape of your neck. He can feel your heartbeat stuttering under his fingertips when they settle over your pulse.

You’re still gasping.

“You need to breathe, lovely.” He says it gently, voice void of his usual coquettish flare. The nickname is softer than what he’s used with you so far, and it feels and sounds more earnest than it should. He tries not to dwell on it as he soothes his palm up and down the length of your spine, “Try to mimic me. I’ll guide you, alright?” You nod, and when starts coaching you through each inhale and exhale, you do your best to follow.

It takes several breaths, but eventually, they grow deeper and stop catching in your chest. Your heart slows. Not by a lot, but enough that Astarion can stop worrying that you’ll work yourself into a panic induced fainting spell.

He guides you through a few more before asking, “Better?”

You nod. With your throat dried out from crying, your voice is rather croak-y when you reply, “A little.”

“You sound like a frog.” It startles a laugh from you, the sound letting Astarion breathe a little easier.

“I do!” You sniffle, still laughing. It makes him laugh too.

“What the hells is so funny in there?” Lae’zel shouts from the other side with all her usual charm.

“Frogs!” Astarion shouts back, and you giggle a little more.

There’s a few loud bangs as one of your friends attempts to open the door. He can feel you flinch with each one until finally, it bursts open, blessed light washing over the two of you despite Karlach towering in the doorway. Your body sags with relief, and a little, involuntary sound escapes you as a new wave of tears threatens to spill, this time for an entirely different reason.

“What happened in here?” Gale asks, looking wildly confused as you slip out of Astarion’s arms and wipe at your cheeks hastily. “Oh, erm,” You clear your throat awkwardly, gaze bouncing between the items the fell when you backed into the shelf before settling on the tea leaves. You look genuinely disappointed as you gesture vaguely towards the small pile on the floor, “I found a tea I really like and got upset when I dropped it.”

“Ah. I see.” Gale nods, still obviously perplexed. If any of them find the explanation odd, they don’t say anything.

Shadowheart leans around Karlach, “We should get a move on. There are only so many hours before sundown.”

“Right. Yes, that’s a good idea.” You nod, clearly thankful for an excuse to get the hell out of there as you squeeze past them and lead them outside.

Much to Astarion’s chagrin, Karlach turns when she notices he’s hung back, “Oi, Astarion. What are you doing?”

He glances between her and the pantry before huffing, “Just... Tell them to wait a moment.”

She narrows her eyes suspiciously but agrees, leaving him to tell you and the others. He makes his way back into the pantry for a moment before jogging outside to join you.

It’s a good few hours until you make camp, and another few before he finally plucks up the courage to approach you near your tent.

You notice him striding over and smile at the sight of him, “Astarion! To what to I owe the pleasure?”

“I come bearing gifts.” He announces dramatically, hoping his puckish grin will be enough to mask how incredibly fucking nervous he truly is.

“For me?” You ask, cocking your head slightly to one side.

He rolls his eyes playfully, “Sweetheart, I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you, would I?”

“Well obviously, I just meant–,” You huff and shake your head, chuckling incredulously, “Never mind. What have you got for me?”

He holds out the tin and watches surprise and confusion flash over your face in quick succession before something unbearably soft settles over your features.

Taking it from him, you’re quick to pop the lid off. You gasp when you lay eyes on the contents, eyes wide when you look back at him with such wonder, it nearly knocks the wind out of him, “How did you–?”

“I salvaged what I could off the top of the pile. I– erm,” He clears his throat, “I thought it would be wasteful to leave perfectly good tea behind when at least one of us could enjoy what’s left of it. Irresponsible, even.”

You huff a laugh. There’s no mistaking the fondness this time.

“You’re absolutely right. That would be irresponsible of us.” Your smile shifts into something heart achingly earnest as you step closer and lean up to peck his cheek, “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.” He’s aiming for coquettish but it comes out too sincere to be convincing. That feeling twists at his chest again and it’s only now that he realises what it is.

He actually, genuinely cares for you.

Rattled, he feigns a yawn and smirks, “Well, as much as I adore your company, I really must be off to bed. Beauty sleep, and all that.”

“Right!” You seem to startle yourself with your own volume and clear your throat, chuckling awkwardly, “Right, of course. Goodnight, Astarion.”

He takes a mere second to mull it over before he throws caution to the wind and cradles the side of your neck in his palm, thumb brushing the curve of your jaw as he presses his lips to the apple of your opposite cheek. Before he takes time to actually think over his new found feelings and potentially freak himself out, he’s going to let himself indulge in you just a little while longer.

Pulling back, he brushes the back of his knuckles over the skin he just kissed, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

He can hear your heart thump, thump, thumping as he walks towards his own tent. The feelings he has for you are a new and rather inconvenient development. But if later he finds that he doesn’t particularly mind?

No one has to know just yet.

[thegettingbyp2]

Spencer Reid x reader

Spencer using his extensive studies of the female body to tease her during sex before finally letting her come

Putting Theory into Practice

You and Spencer were curled up on the sofa in his cosy book-filled apartment, his head buried in your neck and as he peppered light kisses along your skin, grinning against you at the sound of the giggles he was drawing from your lips. His fingers gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you even closer to him, his lips moving from your neck until he kissed you deeply, a stark contrast to the kisses he was littering your skin with only moments ago.

‘Spence,’ you whimpered against his lips, turning your head to the side slightly to break the kiss. ‘Where has all of this come from? Not that I’m complaining,’ you added, pulling yourself to sit upright on the sofa, taking in the sight of his kiss swollen lips and messy hair that you’d just spent the last half hour running your fingers through; and you could only imagine what you looked like.

‘I’m putting theory into practice,’ he replied, moving closer and attempting to press his lips to yours again, only to stop when you pulled away, a surprise laugh escaping your lips.

‘What do you mean by that?’ you asked, turning your body to face in, intrigued.

‘I mean that I’ve had all of this time to study you; you know, find out what makes you tick and now I can finally put it into practice,’ he replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You grinned at him and pulling him in for another kiss. ‘Well, don’t let me stop you then,’ you mumbled against his lips and you felt him grin before wrapping his arms around you and twisting you both until you were laying on your back on the sofa with Spencer hovering over you.

‘So, I’ve learnt that if I do this,’ he said, dipping his fingers underneath the bottom of your t-shirt and brushed his fingertips along the small patch of now exposed skin just above your jeans, his thumb making its way underneath your jeans, ‘then your hips will buck up against my hand, trying to get me to move lower.’ He let out a satisfied chuckle as you did exactly that before he moved his hands up your body, groaning when he realised you weren’t wearing a bra. He made quick work of pulling the -t-shirt off of your body and throwing it behind him, lips immediately lowering to take one of your nipples in his mouth.

Your hands flew back into his hair as your back arched, pressing your chest closer to him, Spencer’s hands spreading out across your bare back as he held you to him. Whilst his mouth was busy, one of his hands crept down your body until he had unbuttoned your jeans and began to push them down your legs, his hand sneaking into your panties and running a finger up your pussy, flicking your clit lightly.

‘Is this something else you learnt?’ you asked, a gasp coming from your lips at the dual sensation. Spencer huffed out a laugh against your skin, pulling his lips away from your nipple making you whine at the loss.

‘Actually, I learnt that if I do this,’ he began, unzipping his trousers and pulling them down just enough to free his cock. He ran the tip of his cock through your pussy, groaning when he realised how wet you were before he slowly started to push into you. The lack of preparation only made the sensation of his cock stretching you even better and your head tipped back, your fingers reaching out to grip Spencer’s shoulders.

Hissing at the feeling of your nails digging into his shoulders, Spencer barely gave you any time to adjust before he started to quickly thrust in and out of you. Moans were spilling out of both of your lips as Spencer’s hips rolled fluidly against yours.

‘If I do this,’ Spencer continued, slowly but harshly snapping his hips against you at the same time that his thumb pressed against your clit, tipping you over the edge. Spencer kept slowly rolling his hips into you until your body had stopped shaking and your breathing had begun to even out. ‘Then you would cum instantly,’ he said gently, pulling out of you and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips before squeezing next to you on the sofa.

‘Looks like you studied well,’ you laughed, still slightly out of breath. ‘But you didn’t finish,’ you said, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

‘I’m fine,’ Spencer said, a smirk playing on his lips.

‘But I think it’s my turn to show you what I’ve learnt,’ you said, a coy smile appearing on your lips as your hand moved down to grip his cock.

[windvexer]

Do you know if there's a chance that someone just... Can't do magic? I feel like none of my spells work despite trying different methods and advice, I've never been chosen by a deity like most practicioners seem to be, I feel like there's something I'm missing fundamentally that means I just can't make magic. How can I check, so I stop giving myself hope and then having it crushed?

Perhaps a bad faith take, but I doubt most practitioners have been chosen by deities. I am of the opinion that many people believe they are supposed to be chosen and then use very lax systems of omen reading to justify that such-and-such god is claiming them.

Over the years, many people have asked me for help getting their spells to work, or solving such-and-such magical blockage.

And unfortunately, just about every time, the end result is that the person really has not done as much work as they think they have done, and they are still more or less on square one (or square zero) of practice.

Here are the sorts of questions I would ask you if we were chatting about this:

Focus

What specific school of magic are you trying to learn? "Witchcraft" and "magic" are not schools. Are you trying to learn Traditional Witchcraft? Lodge Magic? Chaos Magick? Appalachian Folk Magic? Dianic Wicca?

Out of the school of magic you are trying to learn, how many books have you read about it?

Out of those books, how many of them focused on actual technique and theory? As in, explaining the magical theories as to why this system works the way it does.

Do you have a clear understanding of why this magical system works the way it does? Can you describe it to me?

Within the magical system you have chosen to study, is there a clearly laid groundwork for what practitioners are supposed to have to do before they are valid/initiated/adept within this system? If so, have you achieved all of those requirements?

How many months of ongoing study and practice do you think is reasonable until you are ready to move to a new school of focus?

Learning Plan

Witchcraft is a complex and variable skill that, like writing a novel, requires a working knowledge of many diverse skillsets.

What is the specific goal you are working towards at this time? "Getting a spell to work" is not specific enough. "Casting a prosperity spell that is able to generate small amounts of cash, gifts, or benefits within a 2 week period" is the type of thing I mean.

What is your lesson plan to achieve that goal? An example might be, 1) read a book on prosperity magic, 2) study and research 5 accessible plants related to prosperity, 3) learn an energy raising technique, 4) learn how to charge correspondences, 5) learn how to add correspondences to candle spell, 6) learn magical timing techniques.

Even if you do not have a lesson plan, can you name the top 3 things you have been actively practicing to try and become a better practitioner? Examples might be energy raising, visualizing techniques, talking to spirits.

Once you formulate a lesson plan, ask yourself how many hours you think is reasonable to spend on each step. If you don't think you've ever successfully raised energy before, do you think it's fair that you might require 10 hours of practice learning your first energy raising technique before you can do it?

Could you explain to me the steps you believe are required to perform magic? Include how many hours you've spent practicing techniques applicable to each step.

Practice

Think of magic as being like learning to close a restaurant by yourself. You must be experienced in all of the stations, and have in-depth knowledge about the standards required. Do you also have such experience and understanding when it comes to your own craft?

Outside of reading and study, since the start of your practice, how many hours of concerted effort have you put in trying to perform magical techniques? This includes energy work, casting spells, sensing energies, divination, talking to spirits.

Write a list of each specific magical technique you have tried to learn. Not just "energy work" but, "Earth-roots grounding visualization to raise or balance energy into the planet." "Gathering energy into the lungs and exhaling to release excess energy." "Trying to contact the spirits of tarot cards." Be very specific. Next, write down how many hours you think you have spent practicing each technique. Which techniques have you spent more than 10 hours practicing, even if that practice is across years?

Write down every spell you ever remember trying to cast. How many are there?

Of all the spells you've tried to cast, are they from a wide variety of intents (such as prosperity, protection, luck, binding, conjuring), or are they mostly one type (e.g., prosperity)? Write down how many different kinds of spells you've tried to cast, based on intent. Have you practiced at least 5-10 spells in each category?

Technique

You've asked me, so given the way I do things:

How long does it take you to cast simple spells? Do you think it might be reasonable to expect that casting even a simple spell could take 30 minutes or more?

When you work spells, how long does it take you to raise energy? This can also include hours/days spent finding objects/ingredients of natural power. Would you say that you spend at least 10-15 minutes raising magical power for every spell that you cast?

When you work spells, how do you imprint/program energy? How do you stamp it with your intent so you know it's going to do what you want it to do?

When you work spells, how do you deliver them to their target? What techniques and methods do you employ to make sure they can get to where they need to go?

Before you cast spells, how much divination or investigation do you perform to make sure the spell will be effective for your purposes? Even a perfect screwdriver will fail where a hammer is required.

Do you use traditional techniques like aligning your spells to planetary timing, gathering taglocks, casting circles, or calling quarters?

Hygiene

How often do you perform self-cleansing? Otherworldly grime can obfuscate magical power.

Have you ever cast, or had others cast for you, unblocking or unbinding spells to help open the roads of your power?

How often do you engage in managing your personal energy? For example, centering/reclaiming exercises to pull escaped energy back into yourself, or energy gathering exercises to build up personal power.

Resources

Of the people you are asking for magical help, are they all a part of the same group who carry similar worldviews and would tend to suggest the same advice?

Of the people you are asking for magical help, how many of them are able to affirm that they are mentors, teachers, spirit doctors, or consultants qualified to help people with the problem you have?

Do you have a group you can work with to practice skills, such as energy charging and energy reading?

When you cast spells, do you have someone you can send photos of the spellwork to, so they can try to perform readings or diagnosis on what's actually going on?

Reality

Have you chosen a start date for your practice (such as, "I've been a practitioner for 2 years,") but in reality you have only tried to practice magic for a very limited time (say, 1 or 2 months out of that period)? If so, is it possible that you are comparing yourself to the success of a practitioner of 2 years, instead of a practitioner of 2 months?

Does the kind of magic you believe in dictate that rigor and technique are required to achieve results? Or are you more working in the "visualize and believe" arena?

Are you comparing your successes to people who are telling the truth about their practice? Is it possible people you are comparing yourself to are not using rigorous self-assessment when they calculate their own wins?

Are you comparing your successes to people who may have been practicing for decades or more on intensive paths, or who have spent thousands of hours honing their practice within a single area?

Are you being realistic about what actual success looks like? For example, casting a protection spell, something not protected against happens, and then deciding that because something bad in general happened, the entire protection failed.

Anyway Anon, to actually answer your question: no, I don't believe some people just "can't do magic." In very rare circumstances, some people may have serious blockages or entanglements going on that must be resolved before they can do magic. Others may require less intensive spellwork like unblocking to clear the way (like idk, maybe granny prayed over you in the crib that you'd never get involved with all this evil occult stuff).

It's my experience that almost everyone who thinks they can't do magic, if they were being very honest with themselves, would have a hard time coming up with actual lists of things they have done to try to be better at magic; they have perhaps practiced for a handful of hours across several months; they are not learning core skills (like energy work, divination, or trancework); and they are not working off of tried-and-true systems, but are rather setting up camp at the intersection of every possible shortcut (clear quartz, rosemary, and roses are universal substitutes; you don't have to use any physical tools or ingredients; visualization is the same as energy raising; intent is all you need; traditional methods of targeting such as obtaining taglocks are irrelevant; casting a circle is irrelevant; magical headspace is irrelevant; building and consecrating of holy areas such as altars is irrelevant; astrological timing and places of power are irrelevant; going to great lengths to obtain or preserve power is irrelevant).

The other 3% of people pissed on a fairy tree when they were kids and need to spend a couple of months working with a mediator to rectify their relationship with the spirit world.

Do feel free to DM me, if you like.

[biancabi]

Jason: *Walking around the living room with a book until tripping over something*

Tim: *Lying on the ground being the "something" Jason tripped over*

Jason: What the fuck, Replacement?

Tim: Sleep is overrated and I don't need it!!

Jason: Of course, that clarifies everything. What do you think if we make the consumption of peanuts illegal too?

Tim: Actually that would be pretty fantastic-

Jason: No, I was being sarcastic. Why the hell are you on the ground?

Tim: I'm trying to test a theory about how inertia acts on bodies-

Jason: *Raising an eyebrow* You fell and you're too tired to get up, right?

Tim: ...

Tim: ....yes.

-

Jason: *Yelling* Can someone tell me why the hell the kitchen is covered in waffle batter everywhere??

Steph: *With a stack of fifty waffles at her side* We're making waffes, obviously

Jason: And you had to dirty Alfie's entire kitchen for that??

Steph: It's just a little disaster, he won't even notice.

Jason: He doesn't notice the flour on the floor, eggs on the windows and dough on the ceiling??

Steph: You're making it sound more serious than it is.

Jason: Don't fuck, goldie.

-

Jason: *Entering dramatically* Alright little bitches, which one of you takes my copy of Pride and Prejudice??

Dick: I haven't seen your book, littlewing

Duke: Don't you have like a ten copies of that book?

Jason: First, I have fifteen copies of Pride and Prejudice. Second, they took my special anniversary copy. So which one of you has it??

Dick: Are you sure you didn't leave it somewhere?

Jason: No, I looked everywhere in this damn manor and it's NOT there.

Duke: Man, it's practically impossible for you to have covered the entire manor, I tried but I got tired after 5 hours. 5 HOURS!! AND I ONLY WENT THROUGH THE EAST WING.

Jason: THAT'S NOT THE POINT! WHO HAS MY BOOK?!

Dick: *Replying to Duke* I don't know, after getting lost in the hallways I never tried to navigate the manor again.

Jason: HEY! RESPOND BEFORE I START TAKING THE BULLETS OUT!

Duke: *Excited* What if there is some type of ghost or entity that is hidden in the hallways?

Dick: That wouldn't be so strange, I mean, this manor is very old.

Jason: IT DON'T CARE IF THERE ARE ANY DAMN GHOSTS. I WANT MY BOOK.

Duke: Just think about it, what if the ghost took your book??

Jason: *Taking out their guns* This is it, it's bullet time.

-

Bruce: Jason, could you explain to me why my living room is full of bullet holes?

Jason: Whoa, old man. If we think about it technically, everything is your fault.

Bruce: Pardon?

Jason: I think it's actually Alfred you should apologize to, but I guess I accept your apology.

Bruce: *Take a deep breath* Jason, how is this my fault?

Jason: *Moving his hands indifferently* I mean, if you hadn't adopted seven of us your living room wouldn't be covered in bullet holes. So technically it's your fault.

Bruce: ...

Jason: You know, you should have stopped at kid number two.

-

Jason: *Holding Damian by the neck like a kitten* Why the hell did you jump out of the batmobile? Were you even thinking???

Damian: *Squirming* I was trying to get out of the terrible experience of you driving alive. We almost crashed and died AGAIN.

Jason: Oi demon brat, Just so you know we almost collided because you jumped out the window suddenly.

Damian: This wouldn't have happened if I had been driving.

Jason: *Exasperated* Your feet can't even reach the brakes. How do you think-

*They both freeze when they hear police sirens, they look at each other and back at the crashed Batmobile.*

Jason: Did you know? Bruce doesn't need to know this.

Damian: This is the first time I agree with you Todd, we don't have to bother Father with little things.

Jason: *Escaping from the place* Yes yes yes, definitely

[pandapetals]

Double Date

You and Logan go on a double date with Jean and Scott.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

divider credit: @enchanthings

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Jean?" you asked skeptically, glancing over at her as you both sat in her office, grading papers. The afternoon sun filtered through the window, casting a soft glow over the stacks of assignments that never seemed to get any smaller. “Double dates... that's something teenagers do, right?"

Jean laughed, her red hair catching the light as she set down her pen. "We’re young, you know. Well, young-ish... except for Logan," she teased, shooting you a playful grin. "Besides, it's just a double date. It'll be fun."

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Fun is us going out for drinks or a movie without our husbands.”

Jean rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Scott and I could use a night out. It’s been a long time, especially since the baby came. His parents agreed to watch Nathan tonight, so I’m taking advantage of this rare opportunity."

You sighed, knowing there was no way out of it now. "Alright, fine," you said, smiling despite your reservations. "But if Scott and Logan start a stare-down contest halfway through dinner, you’re handling it."

Jean laughed again, giving you a knowing look. "Deal. But I have a feeling you’re going to be the one keeping the peace. You’re good at bridging that gap."

Later that evening, you found yourself sitting at a dimly lit restaurant, across from Scott and Jean, with Logan seated beside you. The tension in the air was palpable from the moment the four of you sat down. Scott greeted Logan with a nod, and Logan returned with a grunt. So far, so good. But the undercurrent of their long-standing tension hung over the table like a dark cloud.

The waiter came by, taking drink orders—Logan, predictably, ordered a whiskey straight while Scott opted for something more reserved, a scotch on the rocks. You and Jean exchanged a glance, both of you silently acknowledging the subtle stand-off that had already begun.

"So," Jean started, trying to inject some lightness into the atmosphere. "How’s your class going, Logan? I hear the kids have been really into your military history lectures."

Logan shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. "They’re learnin' somethin', at least. Though they could use a little more discipline. Kids today get distracted too damn easily."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, not everyone can handle boot camp as a teaching method, Logan."

There it was. The first jab. You glanced at Jean, who raised her eyebrows in warning. You could practically feel Logan bristling beside you, his hand tightening around his glass.

"At least they listen when I talk," Logan muttered, his voice low and gruff.

You placed a hand on Logan’s arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. "What Logan means ," you said with a grin, cutting in before things could escalate, "is that the kids respect his... unique teaching style. Right, Logan?"

Logan glanced at you, his lips twitching into the faintest hint of a smile. "Yeah, somethin' like that."

Jean, ever the diplomat, smiled brightly. "Oh, I’m sure they love it. Scott's geometry students seem to survive somehow. Maybe there's room for both methods."

Scott chuckled lightly, but the tension still simmered beneath the surface. It was going to be a long night if you didn’t intervene more.

"So, Jean," you said, turning to her with a playful smile, "have you read that new book I lent you? The one about feminist literary theory in Victorian novels?" You purposefully leaned into the topic you knew would bore the men to death, hoping to shift the energy at the table.

Jean’s eyes lit up. "Yes! It’s fascinating how they reframe the narratives, right? That chapter on Jane Eyre was so insightful. It’s like reading the novel through a whole new lens."

Logan groaned quietly under his breath, and you could practically hear Scott internally rolling his eyes. You looked over at Logan, who was staring down into his whiskey like it held the answers to the universe. "Sounds riveting," he muttered.

Scott leaned in, shooting Logan a conspiratorial glance. "These two and their intellectual deep dives, huh? Bet they could talk about Victorian novels all night."

Logan smirked, finally breaking through the tension with a rare flash of amusement. "Don’t even get me started. The last time she tried to explain one of those theories to me, I ended up readin’ half of Wuthering Heights. Still don’t understand why Heathcliff didn’t just leave."

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. "Because it’s a story about obsession, Logan. It’s a metaphor for—"

"For poor decision-makin'," Logan cut in, his smirk growing. "Guy shoulda walked away and saved everyone a lot of trouble."

Jean laughed along with you, and Scott, for once, found himself nodding in agreement with Logan. "I’ve been saying that for years," he muttered, raising his glass. "Heathcliff is one of the most frustrating characters in literature."

Logan raised his glass, clinking it lightly against Scott’s, both of them sharing a rare moment of camaraderie. "Guess we agree on somethin' then," Logan said, still grinning.

You exchanged a surprised glance with Jean, both of you trying not to laugh at the sudden shift in tone. Maybe this double date wouldn’t be such a disaster after all.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed more easily. Scott and Logan even took turns teasing you and Jean about your "intellectual" interests, mocking the way you both could get lost in endless discussions about books, theories, and literary tropes.

"Oh, and remember last week," Logan said with a grin, "when she got all riled up about literary accuracy in that TV show?"

Scott chuckled, shaking his head. "You should’ve heard Jean going off about the scientific inaccuracies in that alien invasion movie. She almost walked out of the theater."

"Almost?" Jean said, raising an eyebrow. "I did walk out. I refused to sit through that nonsense."

The four of you laughed, and the earlier tension dissolved completely, replaced by the warmth of shared jokes and unexpected camaraderie. By the time dessert arrived, Scott and Logan were trading more quips than glares, their long-standing tension buried—if only for the night—under layers of teasing banter.

The evening drew to a close, you leaned over and whispered to Logan, "See? Told you this would be fun."

Logan gave you a sidelong glance, his lips twitching into that lopsided smile that always made your heart skip. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slipping his hand into yours under the table. "Guess I was wrong. For once."

You grinned, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Don’t get used to saying that."

He smirked, leaning in close enough that only you could hear. "I won’t." Then, with a wink, he added, "But this was all for you, darlin'."

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ei Raven primeira vez que mando pergunta, desculpa não estar falando em inglês é que eu realmente não sei inglês eu sinto muito,mas eu gosto muito do seu Tumblr e a maneira que vc expressa seus pensamentos, e eu gostaria de falar sobre os alunos de RSC que sinceramente eu sinto que o fandom as vezes os trata um pouco ríspido demais,tipo eu sei que irrita quando eles vencem os meninos de NRC,mas ainda sim que o fandom as vezes pode ser muito rígido com eles,o que vc tem a dizer sobre isso?

Here is a translation of the Portuguese (?) ask from a friend of a friend 👆 (Shoutout to Monokuma, lol)

I don’t think I’ve seen too many fans being critical of RSA students recently?? Maybe it’s just the circles I’m in, but I don’t recall there being a spike in RSA hate since book 5, where Neige prominently featured as our rival. I think that’s where most of the RSA vs NRC discourse comes from. I recall many fans being upset that NRC lost to such an unpolished performance, especially knowing how Vil pushed himself to the point of emotionally breaking to triumph over Neige. Chenya definitely did not warrant the same anger back in book 1 because he wasn’t portrayed as a rival or threat to a NRC boy. Instead, Chenya was an ally that pointed us in the right direction to help Riddle.

I think the anger and disdain that some people might feel towards RSA is, like you said, the result of being frustrated that our boys lose to them so often. However 💦 I really think it isn’t worth being upset about, as this was for sure an intentional writing decision that serves the themes of the game. What do we know about fairy tales? The villains tend to lose to the heroes—and although NRC and RSA aren’t schools that exist specifically to foster villains and heroes, they still retain this expected dynamic. In theory, this is because NRC students are too prideful to work together, and that has always granted RSA a competitive edge. That’s why Yuu is introduced with the hopes of being the one to teach cooperation and bring the NRC student population closer. With RSA’s 99-win streak in magift/spelldrive and the big end-of-year tournament coming up soon, it’s pretty clear to me that Twst is setting things up for the 100th win to be NRC’s, showing that they have changed for the better over the course of the main story. NRC losing has to happen before then so that the payoff at the very end will be more significant.

What I think a lot of people may fail to realize is their own biases in evaluating NRC versus RSA. We spend like 99.9% of our time in the game with the NRC boys and seeing things from their perspective. Of course we’re going to sympathize with them. Of course we’re going to take their sides. But we never spend time with RSA students, so we never get to see their perspective. How can you be so sure that they didn’t also train hard to earn all their victories? Neige is just ONE example of a seemingly “low effort” win—and even if you see it that way, how do we know that it’s actually “low effort”? We don’t know how much practice Neige and the dwarves put into their performance. Maybe they worked just as hard as the NRC Tribe did. Why are we assuming they didn’t?? Just because their performance wasn’t as flashy as NRC’s?? I think that’s a little unfair to say… You never truly know what another person is going through.

As we later learn from Rook, Neige has difficult life circumstances—he seems to be an orphan and lives in a cottage with the dwarves, doing many of the chores. But Neige continues to practice and dreams of bringing smiles to everyone’s faces, even donating most of what he makes to the less fortunate. Context like this helps add depth, but because this is a villain-centric game we often don’t get to hear as much about the non-villains and it’s therefore up to the fans to grant grace to the characters who lack in lore. I don’t know, I think it would help a lot if we distanced ourselves from the purely NRC mindset and considered a more objective POV.

[puranami]

✿ It's The Little Things - 2 ✿

A/N: Wow, the first post went far better than I ever expected, especially considering I have no idea what I'm doing ᕕ(✿ᐛ )ᕗ It was a lot of fun though, so I'm back for round 2!

Summary: More little relationship things with other characters that are in both the anime/manga, and the live action~

Characters: Buggy, Shanks, Mihawk

Content: SFW, G/N reader, fluff with added fluff on top ✿

(Part 1 - Luffy, Zoro, Nami, Usopp, Sanji) (Part 3 - Franky, Robin, Law, Kid, Killer) (Part 4 - Crocodile, Rosinante/ Corazon, Doflamingo)

Buggy

✿ Naturally there is never a dull moment with a man as flashy and bombastic as Buggy, but that doesn't mean there are no calm moments. The start of your day is relatively mellow compared to the rest of it. Bugs will cling to you for as long as he can get away with before you both have to get up. During your morning routine you are practically on top of each other, but it is so natural and well coordinated, that you never collide or get in each others way. All the while, he'll be cracking jokes, and putting his hands on your "assets," followed by a cheeky wink, and infectious giggles. He loves when you match his shenanigans, and will overact his reactions, as if he wasn't just doing the exact same thing to you; "Well, I never-" - "You literally just grabbed my-" - "Never," to which you'll laugh and gently slap his arm while he sticks his tongue out at you.

✿ He's a materialistic guy, so he gives you lots of gifts, from the extravagant to the sentimental. It's the easiest way for him to show you how much you mean to him. Giving him gifts in return makes him melt; he isn't just buying your love, you are speaking his love language! As a pirate it's always been him taking what he wants, so to be freely given those things speaks volumes. Even more valuable than the things he wants are the things you have made for him. To know you have put time, energy, and love into making something special and unique means so much to him! He will cry because he is so moved, just hold him and stroke his hair while he has his moment.

✿ To be with Buggy means you have willingly lowered every single one of your barriers; you are an open book, completely honest about what you think and how you feel. He is insecure, so he needs to see that you trust him implicitly in order to return that trust. As a part of this openness, your personal bubble no longer exists, you have a couple bubble now. That doesn't mean you can't have space though! On the contrary, the mutual trust you've cultivated means you can say, "Hey, I just need some time to myself," and he knows that you aren't angry, or upset with him, because you would have told him as much. When you come back he welcomes you with a cheesy pickup line or wise crack as he pulls you right back into that shared bubble. It took a lot of faith at the start, which wasn't easy for him, and it takes consistent hard work to maintain this level of trust and honesty, and it is so worth it.

Shanks

✿ This man cannot keep his hand to himself! When you're walking together he'll have his hand on the small of your back, or his arm around your shoulder. More often than not he is holding your hand, fingers laced together, with him brushing your thumb with the rough, calloused skin of his own. In his mind, the closer you are to him, the safer you are. He's one of the strongest men in all the seas, so being in the same space means no one can touch you, just as they can't touch him, but you'd never know it. To you, he's just like a big puppy, needing to be in your presence, smothering you in affection. He likes to lean his head on top of yours, similar to how a dog will lean their head on your lap, all while wrapping his arm around your waist so you can't wander off. He can be a little possessive, honestly, but he means well.

✿ He will listen to you talk his ear off for hours on end about literally anything. From philosophical musings, to colour theory, to the many uses of vinegar - it doesn't matter the subject, he just loves to hear your voice, and to see how passionate you are. Shanks won't just smile and nod, giving the odd confirming "uh huh," while not really listening either; he gets really invested! Your passion is contagious, and you make even the most mundane things interesting. It's also good to know what interests you, as it makes gift ideas easier. Whenever he sees something related to a topic you've talked to him about he will get it for you. The main thing with all of this is the quality time he gets to spend with you; outside of drinking and merriment, it's one of his favourite ways to relax.

✿ Shanks loves playing little pranks on you. He never goes too far though, as it's important that you are laughing alongside him and the crew. It makes him so happy when you start pulling your own pranks on him. It is very hard to surprise him, but easy to confuse him. You know those pranks where people hide numerous things everywhere? Lets just say he is still finding little gnomes around the Red Force. The rest of the crew is in on it, pretending not to see them, and will deny any knowledge of them, and the longer it goes on, the funnier he finds it when he spots another - you hid them in the such obscure places! He's kept every single one of them, and they have a designated chest, but he'll keep his favourites on his desk.

Mihawk

✿ Everything about Mihawk is subtle, and purposeful, and that extends to relationships. To outside observers he appears cold and distant, like he is barely tolerating your presence at his side, but you are so familiar with his subtleties that you can see just how much he adores you. Each ghost of a touch and fraction of a smile are a declaration of love that only you can understand. He is much more open with his affections when you are alone, where you are safest - not to say you are unsafe out with him, nothing could be further from the truth, he just won't do anything that puts a potential target on your back, exposing you as his achilles heel.

✿ He is a classic romantic! Mihawk is courting you, not dating you. At the start of the courtship he will wine and dine you, lead you with an arm behind you that never makes contact, and the only time he will touch you is to leave a faint kiss on your hand after escorting you home. There will also be large periods of time between meetings where he will send many unsigned love letters until he can return to you. You know exactly who they are from, Mihawk just wants to avoid you being linked to him, especially when he isn't there to protect you.

✿ Once you are fully committed to one another, he moves you to his home where you are safe, and when he is there, he is so domestic that you often forget you are with a (former) warlord. You will tend to the garden together, harvest what you need, and cook together, though he'd prefer to do all the cooking for you. In all honesty, as long as you are there to keep him company, he'd be happy to do everything for you, but he won't fight it if you insist on doing things for him, or ideally together instead; "We'll get things done quicker together, and then we can relax with a bottle of wine and a good book." - "Very well." There is nothing he loves more than sitting with you on the settee with a comfy blanket after a long day of training and daily chores.

[dr3amfyr-e]

modern!jace thoughts ( wc. 600-ish )

i have a jace parasite living in my brain <3 i’m cooking up a part two ( i cooked it up )

jacaerys who studies literature and linguistics at university — on the pre-law track. he’s such a diligent student, a frequenter of libraries and study rooms. ( but he doesn’t really have to try that hard, it comes easy, it’s aggravating )

he lives in the nicest dorm on campus, probably private housing.

jacaerys who wears glasses :3 but only when he must, makes an effort to put contacts in every day. but some days are just glasses days. ( they’re the sliver squoval wire framed ones )

jacaerys who prioritizes hygiene, he’s so clean. (i’m a jon girl at heart, i can acknowledge that he is not squeaky clean. jace is squeaky clean) jace has a skincare routine and a haircare routine. he’s using olaplex and cerave and that super expensive moisturizer. he knows how to defuse and gel cast his curls, he’ll happily do yours too! i firmly believe he uses an electric toothbrush AND HE TAKES CARE OF HIS NAILS

jacaerys who attended a private school until university, and started playing competitive football ( ⚽️ ) at age 10. he plays in college too, but he’s not as serious about it.

lucerys attends the same private school and plays for the same team, so jace practices with him ( it usually ends with a physical altercation, think the sword fight scene ‘what. was. THAT?’ )

jacaerys who likes animals, and LOVES his dog. vermax lives at home while he is off at school, but when jace gets a place of his own the dog will come with. he walks him every morning and evening and takes him for runs most days over the summer. vermax sleeps in jace’s bed, and he takes up a good portion.

jacaerys who is SO oldest daughter coded. he’s driving his siblings around. taking joffrey to pediatrician appointments and picking him up from school. going to all of luke’s football games and rhaena’s violin concerts.

chronic over achiever, he has to be his mothers favorite daughter- what, who said that?

mama’s boy jacaerys who looks up to her more than anyone. he’s bragging her up to anyone who will listen: in his gender and women’s studies class like, “my mom is a ceo! 🙋” “my mom is married to a woman! 🙋”

he would defend his mother’s name with his life. he’s getting into fist fights at social events, ryan atwood style. ( no he’s not, but he really wants to )

jacaerys who can be mean. he doesn’t mean to be, he doesn’t want to be — he hates it. but the world he grew up in was exclusive, and cliquey, and competitive.

he’s good at controlling it, thinking before he speaks. because he’s not a mean person. he’s good, and kind, and gentle. but, it comes to the surface when he goes into defense mode.

he made luke cry once, and started journaling to channel his emotions.

english/history person jacaerys. he’s hopeless at helping his brothers with their math homework.

when his mother married his late grandfather’s former wife he started reading lesbian theory to cope. and he liked it! he borrows baela’s feminist theory books, they bookclub.

jacaerys who, unfortunately, does participate in performative reading. omg nooo don’t come talk to me while i’m reading didion and wearing pearls and mewing 🧏

jacaerys who has a really expensive digital camera and also a really expensive film camera. he likes to post his pictures on his instagram ( no one cares )

all of his social media accounts are private because he doesn’t want to be the internet’s next eligible bachelor.

jacaerys who cries when he’s frustrated.

jacaerys who tolerates his step-brothers, but not very well or with much enjoyment. he has way more in common with alicent than he’d like to admit ( quintessential horrifying step-child experience of being mistaken for your step-parents biological child ) he likes helaena, though! they’re kind of bestie

he separates puzzle pieces by colour for her and looks at all of her art and knows all of her favorite bugs. ( he’s always wanted a sister )

jacaerys who is a fantastic boyfriend ( i’ll get into this later ) (( i got into this ))

[creature-wizard]

So, I just read It's Not Impossible: Healing from Ritual Abuse and Mind Control by Svali.

For those who don't know, Svali is a conspiracy theorist who popped up in the early 2000s claiming to be a former Illuminati/New World Order programmer. Her claims are based on the stuff put out by the likes of Mark Phillips/Cathy O'Brien and Fritz Springmeier/Cisco Wheeler, which in turn derives from stuff like The Protocols of the Learned Elders of Zion, blood libel, witch panic, Michelle Remembers, and Alexander Hislop's anti-Catholic conspiracy theories. It's full of your typical Project Monarch psychological pseudoscience that can effectively be used to blame literally any symptom or behavior on programmed DID, whether or not someone actually has DID at all. It's got all the usual stuff about an alleged global cult that practices the most absurdly complicated, messy, and risky forms of mind control instead of just using the regular ol' indoctrination and manipulation tactics that work just fine for your more typical authoritarian assholes.

She is regarded as a ritual abuse/alter programming expert by people such as Ellen Lacter and Alison Miller, and if you search through the citations on many ritual abuse/RAMCOA websites, you'll often find her name. If you didn't have any familiarity with Svali's outlandish claims before, I think after reading this you'll agree that no sensible person should ever be citing her as an authority on anything. Here are some of the weird and ridiculous claims she makes in this book:

Fetuses are tortured and programmed in the womb. They are capable of making choices presented to them in-utero. (Yes, according to Svali, fetuses can fully understand language and process questions.)

Children can be forced to forget things by threatening them with death if they don't. (Literally not how memory works. If anything, death threats would make it harder to forget.)

Toddlers are trained as assassins and sent to kill wealthy targets, because wealthy people tend to have, shall we say, a predilection for children. (Yes, some wealthy people are child molesters. But claiming they're all into this as a group is absurd. It's also two antisemitic conspiracy theory tropes with the serial numbers filed off.)

Alice In Wonderland programming includes games of croquet where the balls are the decapitated heads of children. (Always with the absurdly over-the-top programming methods.)

The conspiracy programs people from birth to have a visceral fear and hatred of Christianity. (The function of this claim is to deny the traumatic impact of Christian religious abuse.)

"Many occultic groups" hate Israel and aim to destroy its national security through infiltration. (Of course we're going to get Christian Zionism in this conspiracy theory.)

"Higher occultic groups" round up Christians "from prisons and camps in third world countries under oppressive regimes" to torture and crucify them. (Typical oppression fantasy of white American Christian conservatives.)

Genetically enhanced individuals were first produced in the 1940s. (Quite unlikely, given that DNA's role in inheritance wasn't even determined until 1943.)

Claims that "The Light of The World" is an occultic painting that depicts the Antichrist. (Actually, it just depicts Christ.)

Theta systems are trained to psychically kill from the time they're in the womb. Theta assassins have sex with the target, then use the resulting soul tie to demonically kill them. (You know you're into some deep far right shit when they're talking about "soul ties" like this.)

Chi is a demonic power. (Always with the racism.)

Kabbalah is used to open portals to install demons. (And of course, the antisemitism.)

Druids can shapeshift into animals and trees. (This is how druids work in modern RPGs.)

Mages can shapeshift into various animals. (So many occultists WISH this was true!)

Cult children are genetically enhanced for intelligence. (Meanwhile in the real world, not a single alleged survivor has ever demonstrated said intelligence.)

Saturn, Prometheus, and Vulcan are demonic deities. (Pure religious bigotry here.)

Mothers of genetically enhanced fetuses are brutally tortured and gradually dismembered throughout the entire pregnancy. Supposedly, miscarriage is prevented with the cult's "state-of-the-art technology" that's "at least 50-75 years ahead of what's publicly known."

Supposedly, "all videos, CDs, computer games and other digital media now have subliminals embedded, that are fed at 0.03 microseconds." She claims that you can't pause the video to see the message because the images will be blurry, as they're only visible when the media moves. How very convenient, Svali. (By the way, conspiracy theorists have been claiming media is full of dangerous subliminal messages for years, programming children to turn into mass murderers and whatnot. So far there is zero evidence that rock music turns you into a killer.)

Direct quote, "It is amazing how desensitized our population has become to sex, violence and the occult due to this mind control technology that sits in everyone's living room." (Literally your old-time Satanic Panic rhetoric.)

Direct quote, "I personally believe that we are very close to the “end times” of Revelations, and that the Occultic messiah (or antichrist) is alive." (Always with the End Times mythology with these people.)

Yeah, so this is one of the people that therapists pushing this idea that alter programming is a real thing regard as an authority. They're citing a far right conspiracy theorist who claims toddler assassins are sent to kill wealthy targets and that druids can actually turn themselves into trees.

I'd like to reiterate here that the type of alter programming people like Svali claim exist is not something there was ever any real evidence for, and the whole idea originated among conspiracy theorists. This was not a case of something that actually existed just being co-opted by bad faith actors. It is very literally a witch hunt, and one way we know this is that the early modern mythology of satanic witches and today's mythology of alter programming use many of the exact same tropes. And we also know that people can be coached into confabulating memories of events that never took place (you can see very obvious examples of this yourself here and here).

None of this is to say that human trafficking, sex abuse, religious abuse, institutional abuse, and so on aren't real; they very much are. But the kind of stuff that people like Svali push is not, and it's so full of pseudoscience and far right bigotry that it will harm survivors of extreme abuse even more. The function of this mythology, and the quack psychiatry that goes along with it, is to push people into hyperconservative Christianity and scapegoat the religious trauma it causes.

[nadjabea]

Crowley and Aziraphale never broke up. The conversation we (believe to) see in the end is not the conversation they had.

Aziraphale and Crowley play their own game of spionage and sabotage - and talk about it while we all are watching.

Edit 10/22/23: This analysis needs to be updated because there is more evidence of the body swap and because of that some of my interpretations what they REALLY say is much more precise. Will do it soon.

My point is: Aziraphale communicated a plan in the confession scene – in the subtext. And it culminated in a full body switch.

How? They have thousands of years of practice of talking and signaling their next steps to each other in a way that would not be noticed by any bystander, even less by their respective headoffices. We have seen this in the Job minisode.

They use body language, signs and references to films, songs, everything their head offices won't understand because they lack the earthly knowledge.

Maybe Aziraphale and Crowley even had a back up plan before the Metatron entered the scene. Why I got this notion? Because after their conversation in the bar about Jane Austen, Aziraphale has adapted Crowley’s notion of Austen as a spy and the mastermind behind a bank robbery. Doesn’t this seem odd for the owner of a book shop? (There is this interesting theory of Crowley planning a heist and the turtle neck being Crowley’s “spy dress” by @justhereforthemeta

So here is my analysis/interpretation of the conversation they had.

Note: I am not a native English speaker, I am German. This might of course influence my interpretation of the conversation.

-> After he spoke to the Metatron, Aziraphale comes back to the bookshop and plays happy.

Just as Crowley starts to talk – Aziraphale knows he has to interrupt him.

Aziraphale's hands sign: Stop! First, he tries it soft, watches out of the window to indicate: "We are under supervision!" As Crowley doesnt pick it up, Aziraphale lifts his hands in front of his chest. So they are more visible. Still: Crowley does'nt get it.

Aziraphale: I have some incredibly good news. Uhm The Metatron. I don’t think he is as bad a fellow. Um. I think I might have misjudged him. (Incredibly good news! My ass! Look at my face. Do I look happy? THE METATRON!!! Be aware! He is much worse than I thought!”

While Aziraphae plays the happy and exited angel, he signs "Time out!". His smile is forced. He points into direction of heaven, looks out of the window and hopes Crowley will pick up: "SOS! We need a time out because we have to talk without heaven listening."

But Crowley is like a steam train: He is on his track to confess and does'nt get Aziraphale's distress.

Aziraphale parafrases the talk with the metatron. His body language indicates he is stressed, again and again he turns into the direction of window, his eyes are forced open. Crowley still does'nt get it.

Crowley: He said what?

Aziraphale: He said, I could appoint YOU (tumps to Crowley) to be an angel (it seems that Aziraphale's thumps point to himself). You could come back to heaven and everything. Like in the old times (the old times when we had to pretend to be apart, but in reality worked together and did each other’s work without heaven or hell noticing).

(I don’t think that Aziraphale refers to the pre-fall times because I don’t think Crowley and Aziraphale spent much time together than. Crowley was probably more a loner “minding his own business” or hang out with the wrong group, Lucifer and the gang. Aziraphale would have been much too afraid to spend time around the trouble maker angels.)

Aziraphale: Only even nicer (You know that I know that you hate nice! Come on, get it!)

As Aziraphale gets on with his “excitement” about the new job, Crowley still don’t seem to get the subtext. After Crowley tells him he said no to hell, Aziraphale escalates: He falls back to their "Kayfebe", their way to play that they are along the "party line". (For more on Kayfebe read this post of @nautilicious).

Aziraphae „But heaven. It’s the side of truth, of light, of good.“ Looks obviously into direction of the window as he plays a sharade for the metatron. (Crowley, you know that we settled for shades of grey! Get it, we are under attack! )

Crowley (still doesn’t get it): When heaven ends life here on earth it will be just as dead as if hell ended it. Tell me you said No.

Aziraphael turns his head into the direction of the window to show Crowley they are being observed.

Crowley: Tell me you said no.

Crowley starts to realise that they are in danger but still does not pick up the immediate threat from the Metatron. So he starts his confession but changes it to propose to run away. > You only need to run away if there is someone hunting you. So at least, he gets that now.

During Crowley's statement Aziraphale shakes his head. (we wil not be able to outrun heaven)

Aziraphale: Come with me. (Pause) To heaven. I’ll run it, you will be my second in command. (Crowley, follow my plan: Ill will run this command, you will be my agent in heaven.)

As a non native speaker I looked up the synonyms for “second in command”. They list “substitute”, “replacement” “sub-agent” and “agent”. Agent! Here we are with our spionage story. Jane Austen, the spy, smuggler and mastermind behind a bank robbery.

Crowley: You cant leave this bookshop. (Okay, I get what you mean. But, no, we cant be separeted! you cant leave me on my own - in (an ambessy of) heaven. - Another interpretation: It cant be you who leaves. You have to stay here. )

Aziraphale: Oh, Crowley, nothing lasts forever.

I think this is a code phrase of them. It might refer to a song which was in the charts in 1966/67:

“Nothing last forever” sung by Margaret Whiting, who was already popular in the 1940s.

These are the lyrics:

Now you're down and broken hearted

you have lost your lucky star

You are sure you have no future

You don't know how wrong you are.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've lost your only lover

Now your dreams are torn in two

You are sure you'll live in darkness

But the sun's gonna shine for you.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Now you've got an inch to go

If you still be a mile

Now the bidder's calling you

Capture this to a smile

Now what seemed eternity

Was the sun in a while.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever...wait and see.

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter

Baby just you wait and see.

Nothing lasts forever baby

Even pain and misery

All your tears will turn to laughter (fade)

Somehow I can imagine that Crowley liked this song and they listened to it together in the bookshop. So he knows the lyrics - and gets what Aziraphale tries to tell him.

Crowley: No. No. Don’t suppose it does.

He puts on his glasses to hide his tears but also because now he has to pretend. And he has the need to cover his eyes when he lies. You can see this in the 1941 minisode. While he watches Aziraphale perform the coin trick, Crowley led his glasses slide down his nose and you can see his eyes. But the second he starts lying to Aziraphale about him being a professional magician Crowley puts his glasses up und covers his eyes.

So Crowley starts to go along with Aziraphale's plan, plays to be reluctant - which he probably still is. He doesn’t want to go to heaven, considers Aziraphales plan probably to be a - to use the German expression - “Himmelfahrtskommando” which means literally “a squat that goes to heaven = a suicide squat) - Another interpretation: Maybe he doesnt want Aziraphale to go to heaven?

Crowley: Good luck.

Aziraphale: Crowley, come back. Work with me (I have got a plan, trust me and work with me). We can be together. Angels (you can have my body. So you will be an angel.) Doing good (saving earth and us) - I need you. – I don’t think you understand what I am offering you (Are you really that daft?)

Crowley: I understand. And I understand a whole lot better than you do. (Heaven, hell, I have been there. And it is me that has to go to heaven now. And I don’t like it. - And it's you that will go to hell instead of me. And I dont like it either)

Aziraphale: Well, than there is nothing more to say. (If you understand that I am offering you to posses my body, than do it)

Crowley: Do you hear that?

Aziraphale: I don’t hear anything. (Come on!)

Crowley: That’s the point. No nightingales (neither in heaven nor in hell).

“No nightingales” can have several meanings.

a) It's their song. The symbol of their love. There is no love in heaven, nor in hell.

b) The nightingale sings to protect clandestine love. Now they are not any longer under the protection of the night and the nightingale. Their love is laid open and we know what happened to Romeo and Juliet when the nightingale stopped singing.

c) Someone here on tumblr pointed to a novel called “No nightingales”. There is movie from 1947 that is based on this novel. In Wikipedia you can find this synopsis:

“In the 18th Century, Burlap and Kelsoe are officers in the army of Queen Anne who have recently retired and purchased a house on Berkeley Square. At a house-warming party the pair speculate how to win the war however they learn that the Duke of Marlborough has other plans that will lead to the Battle of Malplaquet. Believing the battle will end in slaughter they hatch a plan to capture Marlborough and hold him prisoner until the threat of hostilities passes. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ghosts_of_Berkeley_Square

Problem is: They are not at all competent and get killed bevor they could prevent the war. So they are cursed to be ghosts until a member of the royal family visits their house.

So could they plan the kidnapping of the Metatron or even God herself? Hold that thought! I definitly will think about that as a plot for season 3.

Crowley: You idiot. We could have been US. (Why did you have to get yourself associated with Gabriel? We could have led our own lifes, in our own bodies)

The kiss - and the body swap /posession

It is not a kiss to show they love each other, it is a kiss to mask the body possession, they exchange their essences

@doctorscienceknowsfandom has laid down already a lot of hints and signs Neil Gaiman planted in the open in the meta "Banana Fish Gorilla Shoelace with a dash of nutmeg" that Crowley and Aziraphale changed bodies.

@lonicera-caprifoliumhas some more hints.

Here are even more points that indicate: they have changed.

When the kiss ends "Aziraphale" cries und when "Crowley" leaves he touches his lips and his hands are shaking.

Several people already pointed out the face, the movement of the jaw and so on: This is Michael Sheen’s Crowley. I think the shaking and the tears are another hint that this is Crowley. Why? Until now we have only seen the hands of one of them shaking on screen: Crowley’s, in the 1941 minisode. Crowley’s hands are shaking if he is under pressure, and overwhelmed. Aziraphale on the other side seems to get nerves of steal when he has to perform (his tricks only work when it counts).

There are even more hints that they have changed their bodies:

“Crowley” is standing upright at the Bentley. He doesn’t move his body, he doesn’t move his face. Something that is so NOT Crowley, who is always in motion.

Also: Remember the first episode when Crowley and Aziraphale fought over Gabriel. Aziraphale told Crowley that he can leave when he doesn’t want to help and Crowley couldn’t contain his rage about that. He was fuming and throwing lightnings – all visible in the middle of the street, surrounded by humans (!). All because of a fight that – in retrospective – was much less threatening to their relationship and their lives.

In a script there is nothing without meaning. And I can’t discover any other meaning for the scene in which Crowley throws lightnings after a fight with Aziraphale than to show that the scene in the end was not a fight.

Hence: There is no way that the real Crowley would be that calm in the last scene. Crowley has much less control over his emotions than Aziraphale.

And even if it was Crowley at the Bentley and managed calmly to watch Aziraphale leave. He would not be able to contain himself after Aziraphale was in the lift. Once in his car (his save space) he would release his anger and pain. Crying, shouting, maybe even hitting the steering wheel, he would drive away as fast as possible screaming at an invisible Aziraphale because this might give him some relive.

But what do we see? A very contained demon.

Next evidence: The colour code of Aziraphale (yellow) and Crowley (red):

When “Aziraphale” is on screen people wear red. When “Crowley” is on screen a lot of people in yellow pass.

And even the plants in the Bentley appear to have changed to yellow. Bonus: A yellow flower blooms behind “Crowley”. Hence: It has to be Aziraphale.

So: Why would Neil Gaiman use the same trick twice?

Because it isn’t the same trick.

In S1 they changed their appearance. Aziraphale presenting as Crowley is still an angel. Therefore immune against holy water. Crowley presenting as Aziraphale is still a demon, immune against hellfire.

But this time, I think, they really posses the body of the other (wow, they really have come a long way from “What a pity you cant have my body” – “Angel, demon, probably would explode” ).

So, what does this mean? Angel and demons are from the same flock. It is impossible to distinguish them, except for the marks on their bodies. Now Aziraphale is indistinguishable able from the other demons, Crowley indistinguishable from the other angels.  

This raises the stakes when it comes to “The Second Coming”.

And this explains Crowleys worried face: He knew about the planes for Armaggedon 2.0,the destruction of earth.

The "Second Coming" is different. It is about judgement.

In the end everyone is going to be judged. The righteous will go to heaven, the other are cast away, extint. So what about an angel in the body of a demon? You see where I am heading ...

There is a lot to explore. The concept of "pretend to be good" and "properly good" and much much more. I will write about it another time.

Now I am curious: Am I delusional? Cant I just cope with the break up? What do think? Tell me you views. Let us discuss.

[corroded-hellfire]

Pretty Girl - Eddie Munson x Reader

Note: This is for my darling @munson-blurbs 💚 I told her that if she finished the big project she was working on in time, I would write her anything she wanted. Not only did she finish on time, but she did it damn near perfectly. I am so unbelievably proud of you, Bug. I’m always in awe of your intelligence and work ethic. I hope I did justice to what you wanted, and I hope you all enjoy it as well! Also, I hope that I used the academic terms I included correctly, but if I didn’t, we’re just going to ignore that lol

Request/Summary: Eddie × Bookworm!Reader where Reader is stressed because of a massive project she has to do. And she keeps talking about all of this academic stuff that makes Eddie's head spin. So he does what he does best: fucks his smart girl until she's dumb

Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, slight daddy kink

Words: 2.4k

Eddie’s just hanging up the phone as you step into your shared apartment after a long day on campus. Letting out a huff, you drop your backpack down on the kitchen table, and books and papers come spilling out.

“Ugh,” you groan, running your hands down your face. Eddie frowns and walks over to the table as you slump down into a chair. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asks as he takes the seat across from you. 

With a sigh, you shake your head. “S’nothing.” Eddie raises an eyebrow and tilts his head. You can practically hear him asking if you really expect him to believe that. “Just school bullshit. You’d think people studying for their doctorate would be a little more serious than some people in my class. But you don’t want to hear me ramble on.”

“Uh, yes, I do,” Eddie says, leaning forward on the table. “You know I think it’s sexy when you talk all academic. My girl’s gonna have her PhD.”

The salacious wiggling of his eyebrows has you cracking a smile. Relenting, you sit up in your seat and begin to tell Eddie about the irritants you’ve been dealing with.

“So, we have to utilize these things called literacy based behavior interventions…”

Eddie rests his chin on his fist as he listens to you. He’s picked up a lot over the years and is able to identify so many more words that you say than he used to. Sometimes though, he still gets a little confused.

“Well, then that brought us to the Social Identity Development Theory…”

Nodding, Eddie is almost positive he knows what that is, but he doesn’t want to interrupt you to double check. 

“But after all this, he admits he doesn’t really understand qualitative vs. quantitative methodology! I have absolutely no idea how this man even became a BCABA.”

I know this one, Eddie thinks to himself. Board Certified Assistant Behavior Analyst.

“Then he kept saying ‘phenomenology’ instead of ‘pedagogy.’”

Now those, Eddie did not know. He can see you getting more riled up though, so he knows it’s time to intervene.

“Baby, baby, hey.” He reaches over and tugs on your hand, nodding for you to come over and sit in his lap. “It’s okay, you just need to relax.”

Reluctantly, you push yourself out of your chair and let Eddie pull you on top of him. The way he smirks up at you lets you know he’s about to get frisky even before his large hands slide up your thighs. Rough, calloused fingers dig into the plush of your denim covered legs. 

“I think my smart girl needs me to take care of her, doesn’t she?” Eddie pouts up at you. When you nod in return, your boyfriend removes one hand from you and brings it back down to deliver a harsh smack to your ass. “Use your words, baby.”

A whimper escapes your throat as you tighten your legs around his hips. “Yes, Eddie. Need you. Make me feel better.”

Tightening his grip on you, Eddie stands up from the chair. A squeal escapes you as you tightly wrap your arms around his neck. A smirk of satisfaction on his lips, he carries you into your shared bedroom. Gently, he lays you down and lets you get comfortable before he’s crawling on top of you. Eddie tugs on the hem of your shirt, and you sit up enough for him to slide it off of you. Then he works down your body, taking off every piece of clothing in his path. Moving back up your body, he goes to press kisses against your neck, but you stop him with a yank on his own shirt.

“Me too?” he asks with a chuckle. 

“Yes.” The adorable pout in your voice has Eddie acquiescing, stripping down so he’s just as naked as you are. 

“May I continue?” After letting your eyes slowly roam up and down his bare body, you give him a nod of approval. 

“You may.”

He chuckles and leans in and presses his lips against the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. The kisses start off soft and sweet but turn wetter and needier as he moves down to your collar bones. Moving further down your body, he attaches his lips to the underside of your breast. It’s his favorite place to leave hickies on you and from the way his mouth is moving against the sensitive skin, you’re sure that’s what he’s doing now. 

As the first moans tumble out of your mouth, Eddie switches breasts to give the other one the same attention. Your hands tangle in the curls that are splayed out over your naked chest, your fingers coming up to scratch at Eddie’s scalp as he continues his journey down your body. His kisses trail down your stomach, to your belly button, then further and further down until he stops just shy of where you most want his mouth. 

“So needy,” Eddie says with a chuckle as your hips begin to move, looking for some sort of friction. You let out a whine and give a tug to Eddie’s hair. A guttural groan sounds deep in his throat. “Playing dirty, huh?”

“Need you so bad, Eddie,” you say through a whimper. The way you look down at him with wide, imploring eyes has his cock twitching between his body and the mattress. 

“Relax, my beautiful little genius. I’m gonna help you feel better.”

You’re not given a chance to respond as Eddie moves down and wraps his lips around your clit. One of your hands comes out of Eddie’s hair to grip the sheet you’re lying on.

“Fuck,” you moan. 

Eddie’s tongue expertly works over your clit, moving at the speed and pressure that he knows drives you wild. Using his hands to spread your legs even wider for him, he nudges his nose against your sensitive nub as he licks at your entrance.

“Jesus, baby, I’ll never get used to how fucking good you taste.” It’s not unusual for Eddie to take his time when he’s going down on you. He likes to ravish you, gathering every last drop from you that he can. The only reason he pulls away from your sopping pussy is to praise you on how sweet you taste or how wet you are for him. 

Now, Eddie’s taking even more care than normal to make sure you’re feeling good. Lazy strokes of his tongue over your clit pairs with him slipping two fingers into you. The moment he curves them up inside of you, he’s hitting that delicious spot that has you seeing stars. There are few things Eddie knows better than your body—it’s the only thing he’s ever actually enjoyed studying. He knows it as well as he knows his own body and is able to bring you to the brink on his terms and in his time. 

“M’close, Eddie.”

He knows without you telling him, though. You both know that. The way your walls clamp down around his fingers, the way your breaths hitch as you lose yourself in the feeling. With one last rub of his fingers against your inner wall, the wave of pleasure crashes over you and has you whining out your boyfriend’s name over and over again. 

“That’s a good girl,” Eddie coos as he works you through your bliss. As your moans subside, he slips his fingers out of your pussy and pops them into his mouth. “Mm, fuck, baby.”

“Eddie,” you whine, trying to catch your breath.

“What, my princess?” He crawls up your body and presses gentle, barely-there kisses along the column of your throat. “You already cock drunk? I haven’t even been inside you yet, sweetheart.”

“Y’make me feel so good.” Your hands reach up, grabbing at any expanse of Eddie’s pale skin that you can.

“I’m here, baby,” he assures you, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

“Wanna feel you.”

“Aw, does my pretty girl want my PhD?” Eddie teases with a smirk. “My pretty huge dick?” Before you have time to respond, he leans down and slots his mouth over yours, immediately licking into your mouth. Using his other hand, Eddie lines himself up with your entrance and slowly pushes inside.

Eddie’s mouth swallows your moans as you feel him stretch you out deliciously. Above you, your boyfriend meets your sounds of pleasure with his own at the feeling of sliding into the wet warmth of your pussy.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles against your mouth. “So fucking tight. This is all you needed, right baby? Just needed your daddy taking care of you.”

Words seem too hard as Eddie pulls his hips back before thrusting back into you again and again. You’re dissolved to whining and whimpering in response to his question, which has him smirking down at you. 

“Mm, look at that,” Eddie muses as he grips your hip. “I may not be a genius like you, baby, but this I’m pretty good at. Fuck my smart girl ‘til she’s dumb.” Not only does Eddie know what to do to your body, but he knows just the words to say to get you hurtling towards another orgasm. 

Every generous inch of Eddie moves inside of you, the ridge between the head and shaft dragging against all the spots that have you arching your back. A strong hand slides up from your hip, making sure to caress every inch of skin it comes across as it makes its way up to your mouth. 

“Open up.”

Immediately, you do as you’re told, and Eddie slips two fingers into your mouth. Not needing to be told what to do with them, you begin to run your tongue around his fingers, swirling it around the tip as you soak the digits.

“God damn it,” Eddie says with a huff of laughter. “You’re gonna make me cum before I want to. Gotta get my girl off again, first.”

A small smirk on your face, you release his fingers with a pop. He reaches down and rubs his fingers over your clit, eliciting a breathy moan from your lips.  

“That feel good, baby?” Eddie goads.

“Y-Yes,” you stutter, your eyes closing in ecstasy. 

“Want you to cum for me again, my good girl. Think you can do that?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out. “So close.”

“Cum on my cock, baby. Want you to make such a mess of me. Cream my cock.”

“Fuck,” you groan, fingers digging into Eddie’s back as his thrusts become sloppier, a tell-tale sign he’s close as well. “Want you to cum too, Eddie.”

“Oh, don’t worry, princess,” he says with a laugh. “‘Bout to cum so hard in your pretty little pussy. Gonna fill you up so, so good. You’ll feel me dripping out of you for days.”

“Shit,” you hiss, and Eddie picks up the pace on your clit. “Fuck—E-Eddie, I’m gonna cum. Fuck, I’m coming.”

The clenching of your walls around his cock has Eddie losing his composure, groans and mutterings of your name falling from his tongue. 

“Shit, baby—m-me too.”

Your bodies move together as the two of you ride out your highs with each other. Eddie’s head drops down and buries into your neck as his body stills on top of yours. Reluctant to pull out of you, Eddie busies himself by pressing sweet kisses against your skin.

“How was that, my love?” Eddie whispers against your ear.

“Was perfect,” you tell him, a lazy smile on your face. “Don’t want you to move.”

Eddie chuckles. “Me neither. But I was thinking we could get all comfy and I’ll hold you as close as you want me to.”

“Can’t get much closer than we are now,” you point out, making Eddie laugh again. 

“Good point. I’m gonna get us cleaned up though, okay?”

Eddie forces himself to get out of the bed and brings back a warm washcloth. Gently, Eddie cleans you up before working on himself. He leaves the room to throw the washcloth in the hamper, but you figure he gets sidetracked because he takes longer than expected. When you see him balancing a bowl of popcorn and two bottles of water as he walks back into the room, you see why. He sets the snack down on the bed and rolls one of the water bottles your way.

“I was thinking,” he says, turning his back to you and walking over to the television resting on your dresser. “We should watch a movie.” It seems like he already had one in mind as he plucks one from your small pile of VHS tapes. Eddie pops the tape into the VCR and strolls back over to the bed. He holds the popcorn bowl so he doesn’t knock it over while he gets situated. As soon as he lifts his arm, you’re cuddling up into his side. Sweat sticks to both of you even after you’ve cleaned up, but you tuck yourself into Eddie’s side regardless. He places the bowl of popcorn on his thigh closest to you as you rest your head on his shoulder. The familiar sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo brings a smile to his face and a feeling of warmth and comfort settles over him. 

“Oh, you put Tommy Boy on!” Your face lights up in glee as you point to the television, as if he didn’t know that you were referring to the movie on the screen. 

“I know how much you love it,” he says, a smile on his face at how happy it made you. 

Cuddling up to his side, Eddie grabs a few pieces of popcorn and holds them up to your mouth. Giggling, you eat them out of his hand like a horse being fed hay. The two of you lazily feed pieces to one another as you watch the movie. When the bowl is empty, you nuzzle your face into Eddie’s neck. The smell of sweat, weed, and his minty shampoo floods your senses and has you more relaxed than you’ve felt in days. Only a few minutes later, Eddie can feel your breath against his neck as it comes out in long puffs. A smile grows on his face at the realization that you’ve fallen asleep.

Carefully, Eddie moves the empty bowl of popcorn to the bedside table and slowly maneuvers himself so he's laying down, keeping you held in his arms. He pulls your body as close as he can, keeping his promise of holding you as closely as you’d like.

“Goodnight, pretty girl. I love you.”

[winterrrnight]

KEZ!!! I just thought of an amazing idea😭, you know how Ward lended Rafe, Cameron industries…what about before Rafe married reader, she always dreamed of having (the pictures), a majestic bookroom filled w books. So!! Before getting married she would always talk abt Rafe building anything similar for her, and since we all know Rafe is OBSESSED w wife, he already started rough drafts to make sure wife got everything she wanted, what Rafe vowed to her 🥹

IM GOING CRAZY IM GOING CRAZY IM GOING BATSHIT CRAZYYYYY abby I'm kissing your brain rn so hard 🥹🥹🫶🏼🫶🏼

part of this little universe <3

rafe has always known about his wife's obsession for books and her dream of having a book room, all of it decorated with aesthetics that she loves with all her heart (like literally anything!! whatever aesthetic the reader loves) and filled with so many books, like basically she wants her own little home library. 🥹

and rafe practically vowed the day she told him about her dreams that he will give it to her.

so the drafts were started, the ideas were thought, the sketches were made, and he was so determined to give her what she wants.

so, I believe that after their wedding when his wife gets to see their new house for the first time that rafe has been having built since the day he decided he's going to marry her and wants her in his life forever, the first room she's taken to is the bookroom!!!!

and its decorated exactly like how she used to tell him.

she wasn't even sure he would remember, but she is so in awe when she sees how much attention he paid to the details, how everything is just exactly the way she would describe to him.

she just didn't know rafe would be so lost in her words when she used to be telling him about her dreams of owning something like that, and how he loved that dreamy look in her eyes that she gets each time she talks about something she's extremely passionate about.

and to see her dreams come to literal life, you all best believe she has to pinch herself to convince her mind it is real!!!!

and then rafe shows her around, showing her everything he got built in the room and she's just so in awe with the way he practically bought heaven to existence for her.

after they start living there rafe knows that there's a good chance she's almost always in that room, reading something she loves so so much.

and after she's done reading whatever book it was that kept her so intrigued she would share her crazy theories on the book and rafe would listen to her no matter what!! cause he loves her!! with her whole heart!! he'll bring her the entire solar system if she asks for it!!

her face again has that dreamy look he so so so SO loves, and he gets lost in it. lost in her soft expression, her voice, her gaze... and its like he's falling in love all over again.

goodness he's so so whipped for her, he's never letting her go for real. she's her goddess always and forever 💘

tagging my baes @runningfrom2am & @chenslucy who i know will eat this up!!!!

(share any of your husband!rafe thoughts and headcanons and/or your other drew/rafe/zach thoughts! sfw only <3)