#i'm politically blind anyway
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batsplat · 5 months ago
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I just read your post about the motogp community and I wanted to ask: what are the things that interests you more about the sport?
oof that's a big question... got hooked on the racing itself, stuck around for the fraught interpersonal relationships. I got into the sport in a slightly odd, roundabout way, but it was something fun and new and just 'for me' (again, not a mainstream sport around here) at a time when I was going through a major life change. a lot of what I enjoy about watching sports is the research that goes into fully understanding what I'm watching. motogp is slightly odd in that regard (as I suppose are motorsports I got into more recently in similar fashion), because my technical understanding of the sport will always remain fairly limited. plus, you just understand a sport differently if you've had the chance to compete in it yourself, and obviously I have never raced on a motorbike before. so, for the sport I grew up with that I play myself and have a coaching license for, when I watch a lot of my thoughts and notes concern quite precise details about techniques and tactics and all that stuff. in concrete terms, that is a sport I feel like I could be a commentator for with a little practise... but with motogp, I couldn't do that. it's always going to be a sport I consider myself an outsider to
which does make a difference to me! of course, there's also something fun to that... it's all a bit more new and exciting and less personal. I don't really mind as much if motogp ends up developing in ways I don't approve with, because it's not a sport I feel like is mine to lose. motogp doesn't quite have the capacity to hurt me in that way. I'm just passing through, taking what I can get, and I also accept there are a lot of people out there who understand a hell of a lot more than I do. I have to take experts and the riders themselves at their word more than I would for a sport where... not to sound arrogant, but I kinda believe I know more than a lot of the equivalent people there. but, the thing is, motogp has clearly been able to sustain my interest because it's given me so much that I enjoy researching - and here a lot of it isn't necessarily super technical (though obviously I always want to understand more about those aspects). at the end of the day, motogp provides a lot of the kind of drama I'd kill for in other sports. all of the aliens are absolute gifts in this regard... it's like you're being slapped in the face with one banger of a rivalry after the other, the kind of thing you really really need to dig for in other sports. it's the difference between me having to scrape together an athlete's 2003 blog posts on defunct websites to figure out how she's publicly managing perception of the rivalry with her erstwhile friend and... okay, I mean, essentially I do the same thing in motogp, but there's also the more recent stuff to enjoy. not all other sports can claim the same is all I'll say. plus it's just so bonkers like genuinely where else do you get this sort of thing
for me, sports is all about narrative, and narrative is all about conflict. the joy is in figuring out how the competition makes athletes express themselves - it's a sort of language, in a way, where competing is a kind of constant back-and-forth that's informed by the image of the self and the image of the other and the image of the other's image of the self and so on. it's something I'm a lot lot lot worse at interpreting in motogp... at the end of the day, when I'm talking about riding styles or ways of winning races or mind games or whatever, I'm essentially poking in the dark. I don't know what I'm talking about. which also impacts the level of psychological insight you can get, because having a detailed technical understanding makes it way easier to understand the mental calculus that underlies each action an athlete is taking. but! motogp gives me so much to work with because all the drama is so insane and over the top... it might be poking in the dark - but also they're constantly setting things on fire! so there's plenty that even the layperson can see. it means I follow motogp a bit more for the actual athletes themselves than I do in other sports, though I think it's still quite balanced
but yeah, for me following motogp is primarily about a) watching races and understand as well as possible what I'm watching, and b) going down research rabbit holes, which hopefully also helps (a). with anything I'm a fan of, I'm fairly wary of how I interact with fan spaces. which in motogp terms means there's a lot of things I am extremely disinterested in arguing about, especially if it's stuff I was already sick of seeing seven years ago. I enjoy my fair share of sports discourse, but I find goat debates quite possibly the most tedious thing in the universe in any sport. I love numbers, I have many many spreadsheets dedicated to sports stats for some of the most obscure shit under this sun, but if it's just a dick measuring contest over comparing athletes' achievements, then again, goot bye. mainly I just want to have fun and I'm not going to interact with this sport in a way that doesn't spark joy... I already have a sport I'll never escape from, one is quite enough for anyone. if there comes the point where a specific fan space or even the sport as a whole is no longer fun, I'm out
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izzymalec · 1 year ago
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israel will refuse to cease fire and germany will be busy continuesly discussing if greta thunberg is an antisemite for supporting palestine or if she's a mega antisemite for owning an octopus plushy
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societysonlooker · 21 days ago
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If you're driving on a two lane road and the road ahead of you is empty and the road behind you is a line of cars, please know that you are in fact the problem, and you really need to pull over and let them pass you. My commute is 30 miles of 2 lane roads on either side of a 20 mi highway stretch and yall fuckers make ny commute vary by a magnitude of twenty goddamned minutes. Not a single one of you is doing the speed limit (it's 50 the ENTIRE way, yall do 35-40). When I already log 3 hrs minimum on the road everyday I really don't fucking need it to climb uo to four hours. And no, I can't just move closer to work, because housing crisis. You can drive whatever speed you want to but for the love of God do me the courtesy of allowing me to do the same.
#Well I'm#Passing cars too!!!#I wouldn't even be mad if people even did the limit. But they DONT. On roads that USED to have higher speed limits!!!#The only reason the limits went down is state regulation on population density and speed limits. Not because we literally ever had any#Fucking accidents out here#Then again every time this happens and I'm either late to work or late home#It's a fucking bmw or audi or *gags* a cadillac or mercedes or some other car that costs more than 50k#Like yeah I get that you're loaded and work 20hrs a week for 1.5mil a year but some of us have to actually work and commute in the world#You're ruinning. Anyway if you see a line of cars behind you and think “lmao oh well. Sucks to be yall” I hope a rage roader totals your ca#Because you're a fucking inconsiderate assholr and that is the LEAST of inconvenience you could have happen to understand what you do to#People. Like seriously fuck you. Same for if you're going slow in the left lane and don't get out of it to let people pass. No you're not.#Larger hazard than any individual speeder actually poses. Someone flashing their brights frim behind you isn't a personal attack on#Your character that's them saying “hey man come on. Get over. It'll be easier for us both”#And you know what? I dont even say this as someone whose always the fastest on the road. I get passed FREQUENTLY all the time and I'm movin#Between the left and center lane constantly (with my blinker and checking my mirrors and blind spots).#I'd *like* to be out in front of traffic but if someone is mov8ng faster than me then they're moving faster than me#Letting them over is the polite and CONSIDERATE thing to do. Because who fucking knows! Their mom could be dying in the hospital or some#Shit and they need to be there NOW. It's not your job to police them.#It's literally so easy to just be considerate on the road and no one does it.#Which is FUCKING CRAZY because considerate driving eases traffic congestion! There's less harsh breaking and tailgating and it allows#Cars to move fluidly AND it's means every car is on the road for as little time as possible#Which is ultimately the ONLY way to ease congestion - removing cars from the road#Idk yall just be nice. It's so fucking stressful to do 35 down a 50mph road after a 12 hr day with 2 hrs of chores ahead of me and not#Enough time to get them done unless I cut into my sleep time.
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captain-hollis · 6 months ago
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I have been watching MASH with a friend recently and, in a move unsurprisng to anyone familiar with my interests, have become fascinated with it
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medicinemane · 1 year ago
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I do wonder what people would do if they felt all the pain they'd caused in the world
Not even the big stuff, we're not even talking stuff like politicians being forced to feel just how much damage they've done, we're talking about the small scale stuff
All the off hand comments that were thoughtless and hurt someone, all the harm done without even realizing how much harm you're doing
I think if I could I'd like to know, I'd like to see the places I've hurt others around me
But I don't know... I listen to some people and it's just like... I don't think you even begin to imagine the damage you're doing around you. I don't think you even remotely begin to think about not even strangers, but the harm you'll do to people you claim to care about
What are you gonna do though? People are allowed to say and act however they want at the end of the day and even if I tried to explain I don't think they could hear me
#ever since I had shit I liked really shit on I kinda changed my mind of how funny it was making fun of other people#and while this applies to stuff like fandom or whatever; it's really about things as a whole#you never know what people around you are dealing with and like...#I don't want to be the person who pushes someone into a darker place; way rather try and help them out of stuff#so I'm not saying I'm perfect; but I do try to choose my words with intention when I'm talking about certain stuff#I try to call my shots and make sure the my ire is hitting where I want it to instead of risking it splashing out and hitting people I like#none of it matters; people will behave how they wanna behave and there ain't shit I can do about it#and in the end we'll all defend what we do; me as much as anyone else I'm sure#but like... that's why I'm always talking about just checking in on the calibration of your moral compass#making sure it's where you want it; I'm not gonna tell you what that should be#though I suppose I will say that for me it tends to be focused on minimizing harm and maximizing help#you think I can't be sucked into hateful points of view?#get real; of course I could... might even already have some I'm just to blind to see; you know?#all I can do is try and check myself and check I'm not letting something like skepticism towards say a political group#start bleeding out and tagging unrelated people who are just standing next to them into my anger#make sure I've got a specific reason I'm mad; try to talk about behavior more than anything else#that's what I do; that's how I value things and how I try to keep my shit calibrated#but you do you; you're gonna do it anyway; so why would I try and stop you?#but there it is#...can I let you in on a little secret that I'm expecting no one's gonna read down here in the tags?#I wish I could breath all the pain and suffering and hurt anyone's ever caused me as a toxic miasma to seep into their bones#I wanna make everyone hurt just by making them understand the hurt they've put out into the world#one or two people that I'd spare cause despite the fact they hurt me often I like them way too much#and there's of course people who haven't hurt me#but I just want to fill people with every ounce of darkness they may have caused me; not even as a punishment; as a way to learn#people in this world are so thoughtless#but... whatever; there's a little bit of a secret I don't really ever say aloud#I want Soulcutter; I want to make people feel like I feel just so they grow some damn sympathy#the way it's described is so familiar; I think that my depression is severe enough I could use it#never draw it; hand resting on the hilt so you can remember how pointless it is to even both keeping your hand there
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bloggerspam · 1 month ago
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Cozytober: Wrapped in a soft fuzzy blanket
Dan isn't sure what he's doing here.
He sits, squished into the smallest pink chair imaginable, holding a tea cup barely the size of his pinky and wonders—not for the first time—why him.
He's reformed! He has his family back (with bonus new ones, in Ellie and Danny himself), and is trying his damnedest to be the best of both his donor's parts! He rescues kittens now!
So why?
"More tea, Mr. Dante?" A squeaky, pleasant voice asks politely.
Internally, Dan sighs. He knows why.
"Sure." Dan rumbles, low, so as to keep from intimidating her. It's a moot point, considering you were immediately invited to this tea part upon first glance.
"Lovely!" The girl, Lian, beams brightly at him, causing him to squint at how bright she looks. She reaches over with her purple teapot, decorated with superhero stickers all over it, and mimics pouring tea into his Red Hood themed tea cup.
Dan didn't even know Red Hood had merch, much less a children's tea set.
She watches him expectantly, so he takes a sip.
"Mm." He smiles, tightlipped to keep his fangs away, "Tasty."
Again, that blinding beam. Dan wonders, distantly, if the reason he can still see is because of his healing factor.
"Lian! Lian, honey, it's time to—" A voice echoes, causing Dan to stiffen.
A man enters through the open doorway, pausing at the scene they must make.
"Hi Daddy!" Lian chirps, "Mr. Dante stopped some bad guys from hurting Mrs. Stoner, and he said he knew the Justice League, so I invited him to my Tea Party to thank him!"
"Is that so?" Her father, with a frozen smile, turns slowly to Dan and quirks a single burnt orange eyebrow. Thankfully, he doesn't seem mad at Dan's presence, more surprised and…amused, judging by the taste in the air. His quirked lips seem to ask him why Dan didn't refuse.
"I've been told," Dan says as softly as he can, "that it would be uncouth for a…gentlemen to refuse a lady's request."
The part of Dan that's Vlad, the part of Dan that Ellie and Jazz influenced, had reminded him.
The part of him that's still Danny, that's still a sucker for little children and his sisters, had taken control and his acceptance had been given before he even knew it.
This is why he is here. Because he is, in Ellie's words, a god damn marshmallow softie.
"Fair enough." Lian's father chuckles with a tilt to his head, "Hard to say no to Lian anyway."
Lian's grin turns a little sharp, the way Ellie's does, knowing and mischievous.
"I've also been told that it's rude to overstay my welcome." Dan places the tea cup down gently, still trying to figure out how to be soft, and contemplates the logistics of getting up.
"But Mr. Dante, you haven't even finished your scones!" The scones in question sit innocently, masquerading as pumpkin spice flavored Oreos. Dan chuckles, and delicately pinches one to toss into his mouth. He gives up on unfolding his limbs around the tiny furniture and simply goes intangible, floating up to stand.
"Lian, I'm sure Mr. Dante's got other stuff to do sweetheart. Besides, it's dinner time for you."
Lian pouts, but seems to acquiesce with a pout before smiling up at him again. "Thank you for coming to my Tea Party Mr. Dante!"
"Thank you for having me, Little Miss." Dan rumbles, floating up and ready to leave.
"Wait!" Lian jumps up, running towards her closet and dragging out a searingly bright orange cloth. Its got little arrows all over it, and is three times her size. She holds it up to him, reaching on her tippy toes, so Dan touches back down and crouches.
"You need a cape, since you're a hero!" Lian explains, "Some heroes don't wear capes, but I think a proper gentleman like you should have a cape!"
She does her best, jumping around and fumbling over him to drape the blanket over his shoulders. Her father, from the corner of Dan's eye, is trying not to bust up laughing. She tries once, twice, three times to tie it around his neck, and he takes pity on her and ties it on himself. He feels ridiculous.
It's less of a cape and more of a bundling. He's half wrapped up and if he didn't have the ability to fly and go intangible, he's sure he would have been tumbling around and stuck.
Thankfully, he does have those abilities, so he floats up to get that all sorted.
"Just like Superman." The Father chuckles, barely able to string it together through his laughed. Dan smiles a wry smile, doing a Superman Pose just to see Lian light up and giggle.
"See ya later, alligator!" Lian chirps, waving goodbye.
And then the part of him that's still Danny rears up again, without his permission, as he floats through the ceiling.
"In a while, crocodile."
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alchemistc · 3 months ago
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i present my latest offering of an au first meeting: the poker game.
Big Blind
Tommy's been on plenty of bad dates in his time, but this one might actually take the cake for worst first date he's ever had. They're just -- not right for one another, and it's clear they can both feel it, but for some reason Jeff just -- keeps talking. About his border collie rescue, and his sixth fourteener (this year), and the his upcoming promotion and the Cybertruck he's thinking about getting wrapped in matte black --
"Jeff," Tommy cuts in, when he starts in on Tesla stock talk. "I'm gonna pay the check and head out. It's been..." he gestures. Considers calling Stout right here at the dinner table to tell him no more blind dates with his stock broker brother-in-laws friends, no matter how gay they are.
He's gonna get shit from Stout's wife the next time she stops by with a casserole, but honestly a half-hour tirade on politeness from Heather Alexandra Stout sounds better than learning how much of an Elon Musk fanboy Jeff really is. Jeff looks like he might be offended by the implication that he wouldn't have paid, but Tommy's already waving down his server and gesturing to the bar by the time Jeff even thinks to reach for his wallet.
"You have a good night."
Andrea slides his check under his elbow with a raised brow and doesn't say a word when he hands her his card immediately, but he can tell she's judging him. Third date in a month he's barely contained his disdain for long enough to pay up, although this is the first he's outright ditched before the bill was even paid.
Gary slides a beer across the bar to him and refuses the cash Tommy tries to give him for it. "Do I look that pathetic, Gary?"
Man of few words, Gary just taps his nose and tips his chin to his date, who is doing a terrible job of trying to sneak out the door.
"You're too good for him, anyway," says Andrea, back already with his card. He tucks an extra twenty into her folder and downs the beer in silence while they watch through the window as Jeff seems to get into an argument with the Uber pulling up in front of the restaurant.
"Maybe it's me," Tommy says, and Gary hums in commiseration. Or maybe he just has gas. "Maybe I'm the problem."
It's been a string of bad dates, and before that a relationship that'd gone up in metaphorical but nearly literal flames. Tommy's spent a lot of introspective time wishing he could kill Gerrard with lasers so that he doesn't have to blame himself for staying in the closet so long that blind dates and Grindr meetups were his real introduction to the dating scene.
"Someday, Tommy, you'll meet someone who can't get enough of your morbid humor and your pessimism and your obsession with haunted cars."
"One car," Tommy argues, although that's beside the point. "I think maybe I should give the search for love a break, Gary."
Gary hums, again.
Tommy drinks the rest of his beer in companionable silence and pulls up his phone to order an Uber himself. Jeff is, thankfully, long gone, and Tommy's halfway through confirming his home address when he remembers the invite he'd received last week that he'd hesitated scheduling a date around. He shoots off a text instead, and updates the address before he slides from the bar stool.
Gary shoots him a look. "Headed home?"
Tommy shifts on his feet. Shoots a look behind the bar. "Nah. Gonna try to hit up a work thing. Pour me a shot of Tullamore for the road?"
Gary accepts the twenty this time and doesn't make a comment about the way Tommy downs a sipping whiskey, which Tommy appreciates.
He's halfway to his destination, enjoying the chat with his driver, when the text comes in from Lucy.
Had to bail, but you should go if the date went that badly. Williams will enjoy slowly ruining the remainder of your night.
Tommy taps his phone once, twice, three times before he makes up his mind not to be the asshole who changes his destination halfway through the ride. Worst comes to worst, he'll tap out early and Venmo Mehta the rest of his stake.
Better than moping at home with the pint of freezer-burned Ben and Jerry's.
-----
He's fairly rushed down the stairs once he's in, because apparently Williams is on some sort of time crunch, or something, and he's fairly certain the drinks are catching up to him as he takes in the table. Mehta and Wilson are regulars, and he's seen Rosen around, but there are two new guys settling in across the table and Tommy has to take a long, long moment to remind himself this is technically a professional setting before he can look too closely at either one of them.
Yeah. Shit, he'd definitely drank most of that second pitcher by himself, listening to Jeff talk.
"Kinard. We weren't expecting you." Rosen's eyes glimmer with amusement. He'd caught maybe six months of her probationary year, but every time she sees him she likes to remind him of the first time she'd seen him post-transfer, at a gay bar in WeHo, and introduced him to the first guy he'd dated seriously in his entire life. Tommy returns the favor by reminding her exactly how terribly that had ended for all parties. "Poker night dress code usually includes more buttons than date night," she jabs, finger circling the olives in her martini glass, and Tommy contemplates tossing one of Mehta's chips at her. Her grin goes wide.
With the momentary distraction, Tommy feels a little more prepared to face the two men now eyeing him curiously.
"Tommy," he says, leaning over the table, hand out to shake. Turtleneck raises a curious eyebrow when Mr. Red Velvet Smoking jacket practically leaps across his lap to shake back. "I'm over at 217."
"This is Eddie," Red Velvet introduces, and Tommy's gaze dances between them, curious. "I'm Evan. We're with the -- wait, 217 -- Chimney's Tommy?"
Tommy's brows dance up the same time as Eddie's do. He is still shaking hands with Evan. Or - holding is more accurate, he supposes, but for the sake of his sanity and the possible date Evan and Eddie are on, if he's reading the introduction or any of the vibes right (they're both stunning and Tommy is smarting from another shitty date, so who knows), Tommy keeps it to shake in his mind. "Well I don't think Howie can claim ownership of my person, but -."
"Sorry, no, I just meant..." Evan's gaze drops to their clasped hands, still now over the felt of the poker table. He gives one more firm pump and drops Tommy's hand. "We're both at the 118. Pretty sure you helped save this guy's ass once." He tips a thumb sideways to indicate the man he'd introduced as Eddie.
Tommy's eyes drift. He's had a few drinks, and up until about halfway through the date he'd been expecting a very different outcome for his night, so he's maybe not keeping a lid on things the way he normally would in a work setting. He's guessing the ass he's purported to have saved would look great, if it weren't firmly planted in his chair and out of view. The rest of the view ain't bad, either.
And.
Shit.
Williams is giving him a look, which means he's not being even a little subtle. "The gas main explosion," Tommy finally gathers from the cobwebs of his brain, and wouldn't it be his luck to transfer out of the 118 just in time for two annoyingly attractive men who may possibly be boning each other to take his place.
Evan grins. Beams, more like, and Tommy slides firmly into his own chair and tries not to be blinded by it. Or entranced by it. God he needs to get laid. Get this - whatever this is - out of his system.
Tommy's cool. Tommy's calm and collected and he hadn't even had that much to drink, actually, so why is he having such a hard time behaving like he's had forty years of experience dealing with attractive men?
Tommy sorts through the memories.
Eddie he can pinpoint fairly easily -- he'd shot off a message to Chim the moment they'd learned one of the 118 had been shot, and had been happy to break the news of his recovery to an anxious Harbor station in the tense days after it had all gone down. Evan, though - he doesn't have a clue who that could be. He's still got a few buddies from B Shift he talks to on occasion, but he doesn't remember any stories about an Evan from them, and Howie hasn't mentioned one, either.
Of course, it's not like either one of them does a great job of keeping in touch.
The mystery is solved a moment later when Williams tips her head at him. "Feels like we're being overrun by the 118 tonight," she says with a grin, but her gaze slides to Evan, rather than Tommy. "And we've got an honest-to-goodness legend tonight."
"You know I still can't believe you survived that, Buckley," Mehta says, and the puzzle piece slots itself into place. "Uh, although we're all glad that you did."
Buckley. Tommy shifts. Reassesses. Eyes the glance between Diaz and Buckley like he's gonna figure out their deal while he's already four and a half drinks deep into the night and hasn't already heard the larger than life tales of this duo from half-a-dozen gossipy paramedics. According to some, there's a secret torrid love affair going on behind the scenes of their codependent friendship. According to others, the ones he more or less trusts not to stretch the truth too far, they're friends -- closer than most, and maybe a little weird about each other, but friends all the same.
Buckley's a shark. Or, if Williams is to be believed, a bit of a cheat.
As the game goes on, and the conversation drifts from the morbid details of Buckley's three-minutes-seventeen-seconds of lifelessness, past the special skills near death experiences are rumored to cause, past the time out where they'd all admired the pictures of Buckley's Lichtenburg scars ("They faded pretty quickly," Evan says, with a soft little frown like he's a bit disappointed not to have any physical proof beyond a few shots of his naked brick shithouse of a chest.) Tommy can't help but admire the shift from bashful to smirking and smug as Evan keeps racking up monumentally improbable hands. He's a bit of a brat, actually, and Tommy can feel Rosen's eyes burning into the side of his head every time he ups the ante just to watch the flicker of triumph aimed in his direction every time Evan wins a hand Tommy raised.
Tommy's no slob with cards, on a normal day, but he's too busy trying not to read anything into the way Evan's eyes keep drifting to the v of the shirt he hadn't buttoned back up just to spite Rosen, or the way he keeps licking his fucking lips every time Tommy takes a sip of the whiskey at his elbow to really care as his chips dwindle to nothing. Tommy can't be entirely sure, but it seems like maybe Evan pouts, a little, when Tommy pushes back from the table to join the rest of the losers crowded around to watch Williams, Mehta and Buckley battle it out.
He's trying to think of a subtle way to ask Howie if Evan Buckley is just like that with all the men in his life when Eddie slides in beside him with a refill on his whiskey. Tommy grimaces. "I shouldn't."
"Thought you were trying to drink away a bad date?"
Tommy shoots Rosen a glare over Eddie's shoulder, but she's too busy chasing her straw with her tongue to notice.
"He was a Tesla fanboy," Tommy intones, and the braces himself for the reaction. He's used to it, now -- the constant cycle of coming out and waiting to see which new acquaintances bow out of getting to know each other any better. This is... earlier, than he usually drops it, but he hasn't been in the mood to lie about it in years, and Eddie had asked. He gets a raised brow and a grimace.
"Don't tell me you didn't know ahead of time," Eddie says, and Tommy loosens the grip on his glass.
"Hazards of blind dating."
Eddie's look is commiserating. He tips his beer bottle against Tommy's rocks glass. "Yeah, my tia keeps finding reasons for me to run into the eligible daughters and granddaughters of all her friends." Which Tommy supposes is answer to half of the question that's been plaguing him since he sat down.
Buckley gets cocky a few times, but it's clear the night is going his way even before Jeshan Mehta's pot gets swept up in Evan's arms. Williams holds out as long as she can.
"Beginner's luck!" Buckley crows, when Williams' last chip is added to his pile. Eddie's been supplying him with a steady flow of drinks for the past thirty minutes, and his smile is crooked as he tilts backwards in his chair for a fist bump. His eyes flick to Tommy's once he's received his congratulations from Eddie, and Tommy pretends he's not a little bit fascinated by the pull of his jacket over his arms, or the way his closed hand lingers near Tommy's even after Tommy has smacked his knuckles against his as well.
Evan Buckley is frustratingly adorable. Tommy's had too many drinks for any kind of decent decision making. He bows out while Evan and Eddie are collecting his winnings.
-----
Tommy's eyes flick to the readout on his phone. He doesn't recognize the number, but it's a local area code, so he picks up on the forth ring. "Go for Kinard."
"Uh - hey, hi. Hey Tommy." The voice is familiar, sweet and low. "It's Buck - Evan. Evan Buckley. I uh -- I got your number from Chim, I hope that's alright?"
Tommy's got a solid fifteen minutes before he has to leave for work, a raging headache that has thus far refused to accept electrolytes or Advil as tribute to his overindulgence the previous evening, and a full understanding that he's going to spend his shift listening to Donato swear up and down she's the better option for finding him a man, but the voice on the other end of his phone might at least give the headache a run for it's money.
"Evan. Hi."
"Hey. So -- you dipped before I could ask -- which is fine, obviously, I'm not -- uh..." He pauses. Tommy can practically picture the way he wets his lower lip while he searches for the right words. "Anyway I was wondering -- would you maybe wanna grab a beer, sometime?"
Tommy spends about fifteen seconds rearranging his entire schedule in his mind. Says, cool, calm, collected: "Sure. When are you free?"
Evan's voice goes distant for a second -- he's putting Tommy on speaker. "I, uh -- I didn't expect you to say yes so quickly. Actually I didn't expect you to answer -- who answers unknown numbers, anymore?"
"Who calls expecting to get sent to voicemail?"
The brat rises up immediately. "Uh, literally everyone. The missed call is just an excuse to text. It's basic phone etiquette, Tommy."
Tommy likes the way he says his name. Soft, sweet and slow, rolling over his tongue like molasses. This feels incredibly like flirting, but he can't get a fucking read on this kid. "Clearly I've missed out on an important cultural shift. I can hang up and we can do this the right way, if you want."
"No!" It's sharp -- louder, like he's raising the phone back towards his mouth. Tommy can't hide the grin leaking across his face. "Uh -- no, it's fine. Too late, anyway, I already know you don't know phone rules."
"Hopefully that doesn't change your opinion of me too much."
"I could be convinced to ignore it, with the right incentive."
"I'll buy first round," Tommy says, and wonders if he's got any other shirts he can play off as fitting better with three buttons undone. The flirting should be enough, but -- Tommy's still not sure drinks isn't just drinks.
"Wednesday night," Evan says, voice further away again. Tommy has a sudden, desperate urge to see what his Google calendar looks like. For all that he'd cut loose at the poker game, Tommy bets it's color coded by type of activity. "If that works. Or Saturday, any time, really. I'm uh -- I'm free then."
If Tommy bows out of trivia on classic car week Cynthia will have a whole ass bitch fit. And it makes him seem a little less eager, to boot. "Saturday. I've got a shift early Sunday, though, so maybe something in the afternoon?"
"Yeah -- yes, th-that works." The stammering isn't something Tommy can get a read off of. He'd done it just as much with Eddie as he'd done with everyone else. "There's a new brewery just off Pico and Prosser -- Chim said you were a fan of craft beer?"
Sounding more date like by the minute, but -- some guys toe the line. Could be Evan Buckley just wants to know more about flight operations, for all Tommy knows. "Text me the details. Look, Evan, I'd love to stay on this rule-breaking phone call and chat but I've got to head in for a shift. Just -- let me know the plan." He's got five minutes to brush his teeth and rue the moment he'd asked Gary for his first whiskey of the night. He's also rolling back his last few sentences and cringing at how abrupt he'd been. "And yeah -- good to know Chim hasn't forgotten the three facts I ever told him about me."
Evan laughs, just a soft little huff but Tommy already knows the grin behind that sound is all sorts of knee-meltingly sweet. "Cool. So. Yeah, I'll text you."
"I'll talk to you later, Evan."
"Yep. Talk to you -- talk to you soon."
Tommy waits a moment in silence. The call doesn't end. "Goodbye, Evan."
Evan huffs out another awkward laugh. "Yeah. Bye, Tommy."
The call disconnects just in time for Tommy to press his forehead into the cool tile beside his bathroom mirror. He might be monumentally screwed if this isn't a date. He hasn't been this fucking charmed by a man since -- well, it's been a while.
Tommy's phone buzzes in his hand. It's a pinned address from a number he doesn't have saved. Tommy swipes into the contact and updates it before the next text makes it through. Saturday 3PM?
Tommy brushes his teeth, downs the rest of his preworkout in the hopes that it'll ease some of the nastier parts of his stupid decision to keep drinking liquor past midnight, and stares at the text all the way out to his truck.
See you then, Tommy sends back, and he has to toss his phone into his passenger seat when he gets a series of incomprehensible emoji's almost immediately in response.
He holds up a hand to Donato the moment she catches his gaze, halfway across the parking lot. The brow goes up, the hand slots to her hip, and she rolls her tongue over her teeth, clearly ready for her speech about how Stout doesn't have a clue how to find Tommy a proper date. Tommy has other problems.
"You worked with Evan Buckley, for a while, didn't you?"
Her head tilt rights itself. The second brow dances up to meet the first. Whatever she'd meant to say disperses behind her eyelids as she seems to work through something in her mind. "Oh, this is compelling," she says, and practically skips forward to loop her arm in his.
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rinsoap · 4 months ago
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SONGS THEY LOVE TO MAKE OUT TO!
✿²˖ ࣪ ➣ includes : suna rintaro. iwaizumi hajime. atsumu miya.
note : me after incorporating my music hyperfixation into all my works. also can u tell im so obsessed with all of these men's arms n hands.
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SUNA RINTARO: REDBONE BY CHILDISH GAMBINO
makeouts with suna are always distracting you. this night was no different except for the fact that you're on the floor. well, you're sittting on the rug beside his bed that's pushed up to the wall. he's sitting against it, and you're in his lap facing him. you're on your phone, not paying attention to the boy directly in front of you, too busy trying to instruct one of your project partners on how to use microsoft. suna is not usually jealous. who cares if someone's into you? it's not like they have a chance. you never entertain them anyways. he just misses you. he was out of the city for a week for an away game, and he's hardly kissed you since he left. he's had awaken, my love! by childish gambino playing for a while now, head lolling back on the bed, bored out of his mind. "babyyyy" he hums in complaint after you giggle at your phone. "hold on rin, i'm almost done... god these people are so stupid, i swear i'm literally carrying this project" you roll your eyes as your fingers fly across the screen, the tapping filling the silence until your boyfriend groans and brings his head up to look at your pretty face. the intro of redbone kicks in, and his mind starts racing, thinking about all the times he's kissed your lips to this song. his hand snakes around your waist, and you feel his thumb start tracing hearts into your skin. "you're too pretty to be worrying about school," suna pouts, "you should pay attention to... other things..." his suspicious trail off causing your eyes to flick to his face, but before you could find his eye contact, he was planting kisses onto your neck. "rin," you whine, winding up to tell him off, but he makes his way up to your jaw, grinning against your cheek when you catch his eye. "rin i can't..." you sigh, incredibly receptive to his touch despite your words, dropping your phone still open on your messages to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "you just look so beautiful, can’t stop myself," he mumbles before pressing his lips against yours, hands making their way to hold the dip between your jaw and neck. you lean into his desperate kiss, and when your fingers carress the nape of his neck, you feel him smile. "missed you so much baby"
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IWAIZUMI HAJIME: NIGHTS BY FRANK OCEAN
makeouts with iwaizumi always start out polite. it's always just one kiss, something casual, until he starts getting needier. you had dragged your boyfriend into another late afternoon nap, him shirtless, and you wearing one of his faded graphic t-shirts. you're woken by the sunlight beaming through iwaizumi's ineffective blinds. his arm is lazily holding you and he's laying on his stomach, you're on your back. you place your hand on his forearm and hum along to the end of hold on by the internet. you had forgotten you put on a playlist. you hear iwaizumi grunt and you giggle. "you awake finally?" he teases, turning on his side to face you and you do the same. "take a guess, genius" you quip back and he tsks. he doesn't say anything though, chest to chest and noses touching, he just stares into your eyes. sometimes he wakes up with you next to him and he is baffled at how he managed to pull someone as gorgeous as you. his eyes only break from yours to flick to your lips, and you can tell he's trying to be discreet by the way they immediately dart back. the song changes, and you both smile at each other knowingly. you were about to exclaim that he should just kiss you, but he interrupts that thought to oblige, and your face goes hot. his kisses still gave you butterflies despite being with him for so long. you kiss him back, matching the way he deepens it, hands over your hips as he pulls you onto him. you gasp at the sudden nature of it, and he grins against your mouth. you break free and move your hands from the sides of his face to his bare chest, but he pulls you closer to kiss up your shoulder and your collarbones and ultimately brings you back to kiss him. as the beat switches, his strong arms hold you tighter, closing whatever distance the two of you might have had before. he groans in your mouth when your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on it slightly when he quietly mumbles, "i love you". he could kiss you all day if he could, and he acts like it.
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MIYA ATSUMU: ONE NIGHT ONLY BY SONDER
makeouts with atsumu are intense and frequent. he loves pda, he's the type of guy to use any excuse to show off his girl, and is that such a crime?! he needs to stop kissing you at parties though, i fear you've become that couple. you were both a little tipsy, and when atsumu drinks, he can't take his hands off of you. so when he started kissing on your neck, you rushed him to the bathroom to avert everyone's eyes from the pda. you shut the door behind you, and atsumu quickly takes the opportunity to close the distance between you two until he had you pressed against the door. "oh, hey," you say with a sarcastic smirk that he matches. "hi baby," he bites his lip, looking you up and down and then back to your eyes, "you look so fucking good... i couldn't stop looking at ya, princess" he knows he's not subtle. your heart beats to the bass of the song playing through the door as he cups your cheeks in his big hands. he leans in to kiss you fervently, leaving you breathless and almost as needy as him. his hands thread through your hair and yours do the same as he nips at your lips playfully. you giggle and he pulls back just enough to speak, resting his forehead on yours. "you're so perfect" is all he says before he starts peppering you face and neck with soft kisses, working his way up back to your lips to capture you in a kiss much more intense comparatively. his hands roam your back, and you melt into his touch as the two of you intertwine. the world fades away, it's just you and him and the song. "hey are y'all done in there or what?" osamu knocks irritably, gladly interrupting you much to both of your displeasure. you laugh, and atsumu rolls his eyes. "yeah yeah whatever," he calls out, planting one last kiss on your cheek before you drag him out of the bathroom, "this will be continued later, promise you baby" he's so corny
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killerpancakeburger · 6 months ago
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SILVER-TONGUED
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SUMMARY: Soap drops by your office to pick you up, like every friday evening for your poker game with the Task Force. But when you turn out harder to remove from your desk than expected, he's going to resort to a different method.
PAIRING: Soap x f!Reader
TAGS: Civilian!Reader, Anxious!Reader, Clingy!Soap, Established Relationship, fluff, swearing, mention of chronic pain, suggestive/light smut: dirty talking, gropping, foreplay (?), semi-public (happens in your office on base but no one walks in lol), (they keep their clothes on). Idk how to tag, help
WORDS COUNT: 1.2k
A/N: Just because I wish I had a Soap to sweet-talk me from my desk at the end of the workday. *sigh wistfully* This is the filthiest thing I've ever written, so... enjoy? But also forgive my amateurism.
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Plunged into your work, you’re essentiellement deaf and blind to the outside world. When you notice Soap's presence, he had the time to sneak into your office and behind your chair, arms folded over your backrest. By the way he pronounces your name, you can tell this isn’t the first time he's calling it.
“Hey,” you salute, surfacing back to reality with difficulty, focus not leaving your computer's screen, but reaching backwards blindly with one hand for contact. He grabs it right away.
“What's up?”
He chuckles a bit at that.
“Day's over is what's up. Ye coming?”
Your eyes fly to the clock in the bottom right corner of the screen. The evidence is damning: your shift has been over for ten minutes. It is far from unusual for you to stay too late, but tonight's friday and the 141's weekly poker game is summoning you in the form of an overeager Scotsman whose eyes you would damn yourself for.
On the field, the Sergeant MacTavish can remain immobile for hours on end with a sniper rifle in hand, stoically waiting for a target to get in his sights. On base however, your lover can hardly stay still more than a minute without a reason he'd deem legitimate.
His question is very much rhetorical. You tried to slip away once, not because you didn’t want to come but because you were worried the guys felt obligated to invite you out of politeness, and somehow Johnny must have read your mind because he snatched you and fireman carried you all the way there.
You wouldn’t have forgiven him if he had dared to pull those antics in front of others, but he managed to keep that spectacle just between the two of you. You still yelled at him a lot afterwards though. And punched him. And kicked him. Felt like hitting a punching bag anyway, so you didn’t feel guilt over the fact that he wasn’t defending himself at all. Once you were done huffing and puffing, you just glared at him, out of breath, fists clenched, and he stared back shamelessly, a grin on his face. The genuine joy in his expression was contagious, so you started laughing uncontrollably, and he joined you quickly. 
Coming from anyone else, this overly familiar behavior would have disturbed you. Being carried around like a helpless toy, powerless to resist someone else's will, wasn’t something you were fond of. But Soap proved himself time and time again to be safe. He could tell apart your serious reluctances from your playful protests, and if he had any doubt that you were uncomfortable, he would have stopped messing around instantly.
Deciding for you in that particular moment eased you off a burden, saving you from crippling indecisiveness and from endlessly weighing pros and cons in awkward silence. It was a favour.
You never contemplated refusing the offer again after that.
“In five minutes,” you bargain, not wanting to interrupt yourself in the middle of a task.
He loudly whines in protest at that, acting more distressed than he actually is.
“Nooo. Come ooon. Ye can finish later.”
“Be quiet,” you retort, and yet unable to curb an amused smile from stretching your lips.
He sighs exaggeratedly before admitting defeat. For exactly five minutes and not one second more.
“Bonniiiie.”
You don't relent.
“I'm almost done!”
“Ye were s'pposed to be done 20 minutes ago!”
You don't have any good argument to oppose that truth, so you remain silent. Soap does not.
He starts massaging your shoulders and dispensing cajoleries into your ear to coax you into compliance. You manage to tune him out until he curiously presses the tips of his fingers into your trapezius muscles and you wince. He lets out an impressed whistle.
“Fuck, yer tense. Yer shoulders feel like reinforced concrete.”
You sigh, having heard that one before.
“Bane of my existence,” you mumble absently.
He hums pensively, and you think that's the end of the matter, until his hand slides down your chest, all the way from your collarbone until your navel, leaving shivers in its wake, and his lips settle on the crook of your neck.
Concentrating suddenly becomes impossible.
“Johnny,” you call out in warning.
Or at least that was the goal, but you can hear in your own voice how affected you already are.
He treats his name like a demand for more, and leaves a trail of kisses along your neck and your shoulder, tugging on your collar to have more skin to work with. Meanwhile his hand caress and grope your torso, burning you through your clothes, in slow, unhurried motions that feel terribly suggestive. He knows your body so intimately well, only brushing the sore spots, like the side of your ribs, where the bone presses right beneath the skin, teasing the sensitive areas and tenderly stroking the rest.
“What do you think you're doing?” you contrive to ask, resisting the temptation to close your eyes to focus solely on his touch.
This may be afterhours, but you’re still in your work office, and anyone could barge in. While the idea may be arousing in theory, you know that the reality would mortify you.
“Just helpin’ ye relax, hen. Ye work too hard. Lemme take care o’ ye.”
Once again, you can’t find a good argument to oppose him. You do work too hard, and you desperately need to unwind before the pressure you self impose makes you explode like a time bomb. Since you've started dating, Soap had a tendency to mentor you into taking it easy, and he never steered you wrong until now.
You sigh in defeat, lift a hand to grasp his mohawk, letting your head tilt backwards, and surrender to his wandering hands and mouth.
Two fingers glide on the inside of your thigh, from knee to groin. In the meantime, his hand squeezes your breast. His lips stop from sucking and licking your flesh only to whisper filthy nothings into your ear.
“Could sneak under yer desk… make myself at home between yer legs… and let ye fuck my face while nobody knows. Would help with yer tension, ah'm sure.”
You suck in a gasp at the conjured mental image, legs spreading almost immediately. You, digging your fingernails into your palms with restraint, Johnny's cerulean eyes almost shining in the half-light of the bottom of your desk as he's staring hungrily at you, kneeling. Him raising a finger across his lips in silent command before spreading your knees further apart and nuzzling against your crotch. You fighting back against the urge to grind on his face and suffocate him between your thighs, the knowledge that he's not averse to the idea making things worse.
“Johnny,” you whimper, beguiled. “Fuck.”
He lets out an appreciative hum.
“Knew ye'd like that.”
The fingers tickling your inner thigh finally move to where you want them most. You grit your teeth to contain the moan that threatens to escape you as his middle finger runs up and down your slit.
Then the racket of your phone vibrating against the wood of your desk abruptly brings you back to reality. Your eyes open wide and you raise your head to see who's calling, only to swear in horror as Ghost's mask occupies the screen. As the contact's photo vanishes, a notification indicating seven missed calls makes your stomach twist in fear.
One does not stand up Lieutenant Riley and comes out unscathed.
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mobbu-min · 24 days ago
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☆ yummy in my tummy ☆
part two
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a/n i swear everytime im about to play love and deepspace, the app needs another update. my phone storage can't keep up T0T anyways, i'm not that far in but xavier is my fave. he lowkey reminds me of silver haha. rafayel is a close second tho
includes: all of octavinelle, scarabia + pomefiore
tw mentions of eating disorder
want more? check out part one!
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Octavinelle <3
⋆ Perhaps the last dorm that you want to know about your skills. But alas, your heart is vast, so even shady seamen deserves some delicious home cooked meals/treats!
⋆ How about making some extra cash? Is what Azul says after taking a bit. He does mean it. Not only would Monstro Lounge gain some more popularity after news of the Ramshackle Perfect’s home made meals/treats were being served, but he gets to spend time with you without giving his feelings away? A win-win if you asked him. As we all know, Azul does suffer from an eating disorder, as much as he tries to deny it, but somehow your cooking/baking doesn’t upset him at all. If anything, he gets so lost in the flavors that he doesn’t realize that his stomach is full and plate empty. Should he be concerned? Disgusted with himself? Lots of negative emotions begin to swell up, but when he glances at you, fully expecting the worst, he’s met with your proud smile. Happiness practically radiating off your being. And suddenly, Azul doesn’t mind the feeling of a full stomach as long as you look at him like that again.
⋆ Jade finds himself coming to you more often to ask for tips on how to cook mushrooms in different ways. Heck, he even encourages you to come out mushroom hunting with him. He’s fascinated by the way you work, seeing you mix different spices and ingredients together inspires him to do the same. He enjoys getting a glimpse at a third world, your world. It reminds him that the universe is truely a big, fascinating place. He is touched that your first thought was to bring him food, don’t worry he’ll repay the favor.
⋆ Your food is the only thing to get Floyd out of his moods! Once he smells the delicious scent of your meals/sweets, he instantly goes back to being silly and goofy! He will pester the living daylights out of you to make his favorite foods. You will know no peace! Floyd always makes his distaste clear. He’s an honest guy, what can he say? So it’s a big achievement that your food gets the Floyd pass. He will glare at anyone that dares to come near his food. This is his food, not theirs! Floyd’s a good cook himself, so like Jade, if he’s feeling particularly chummy, you might be gifted with his own unique concoction.
Scarabia <3
⋆ Scarabia is known to have the best food in the school! So it was a little jarring when you decided to give them some of your homemade food. But you really have nothing to worry about when it comes to these too.
⋆ You thought you were going to go blind with how bright Kalim's smile was. It truly could rival the sun. Because of the trust between you and Kalim, he devours it within seconds. Practically buzzing in excitement as the flavors touch his tongue. He’s not joking when he says that it’s as good as Jamil’s food. He wants to throw a party where you and Jamil have a cook off! But also just to show off your amazing cooking. You’re going to have to politely tell him that might be too much for you. Or that you only cook for special people! (subtle flirting hehe) And well Kalim is Kalim so it’s like a 50/50 chance that it won’t fly over his head. But in the case that it doesn’t, Kalim gets all warm and flustered. You know how some people get cuteness aggression and just want to squeeze said cuteness, well that’s Kalim. Instantly you're in his arms while he exclaims how much he loves you!
⋆ Jamil gave you the weirdest look, thinking that you wanted something from him. But alas! You did it out of the goodness of your heart. After getting over his initial suspicion, Jamil is incredibly thankful! I get a feeling that between everything that Jamil has to handle, he tends to eat very little most days. Just enough to get him to bedtime. So when you popped out of thin air with food, but not just any food his favorite, Jamil is touched. Though just because he’s touched, that doesn’t mean he won’t critique it! Internally of course, unless you ask. I would like to say that this would lead to cooking dates, but Jamil gives me the impression that he doesn’t like others in the kitchen while he works. Though he’s willing to try it out for you! Omg, if you make him food from the Scalding Sands, he just might tear up (lol, probably not but that’s a funny thought) but he will be incredibly touched!
Pomefiore <3
⋆ A tricky dorm to cook/bake for. A life or death situation! You must satisfy the Queen’s tastes or else you’ll face everlasting sleep! OoooOOoooooOOOoooo
⋆ Your greatest foe, the Queen herself! Does your food satisfy the Queen’s strict diet? ………partially. Listen, Vil holds himself to high regards and keeps a stern eye on his calories and where those calories come from. And while yes, you are going the right path, you also took some side quests on the way. In other words, you were like 74% to getting Vil’s approval. But fear not! For Vil is more than willing to take you under his wing! Though, Vil’s not a chef himself, so he’ll guide you in the ways of his diets. As long as you keep those in mind, Vil finds himself thoroughly enjoying anything you make him. He enjoys foods that are light on the stomach with plenty of nourishment. Vil will oftentimes find himself thinking about your food. His stomach growling in hunger. He appreciates it whenever you show up with homemade snacks. Vil will oftentimes submerge himself in his work, whether that be new roles, schoolwork or guiding his dorm mates, and forget to eat. So knowing that you're always thinking of him and coming to check up on him makes him feel all mushy and gooey inside. Goodness, the effects you have on him.
⋆ C’est délicieux! Anything and everything you give Rook is eaten with fervor. Truly enjoying and savoring every bite! For how could he let anything go to waste? You put your heart and soul into it, it would be wrong not to enjoy it with his own heart and soul. His appetite is never quenched when it comes to your food. He consumes your food with such earnestness that it's hard not to get all flustered. The compliments are never ending when it comes to him. Rook could (and has) write poetry off the delicious taste of your food. Sweet, yet a little off putting. Will jump at any occasion to speak about your food, and by extension you. Eveytime he sees you with a bag or box, Rook is skipping towards you with a little tune to each step.
⋆ Nothing could beat his Meemaw’s apple pie, but Epel supposes that yours come to a close second. Your food is the only thing Vil will turn a blind eye to, which Epel takes as an opportunity to slyly (not really) suggest new recipes for you to try. Honestly, Epel really likes your food! He gets all flustered whenever you pop with food for him. At first he was a little insulted that you made him food, thinking you were insulting his masculinity or something by babying him. But after your very honest words (and a reprimanding from Vil and Leona for making you sad), Epel understands that it was just you trying to show him that you cared for him. I can see Epel going to Jack and asking ‘Is someone giving you food manly?’ and Jack, who happened to overhear Leona telling Ruggie, casually responds with, ‘My mom always makes my dad food, so yeah…” And Epel’s all like, ‘Well damn, if Jack looks like that then his dad must be super macho.’ or something like that. Needless to say, Epel has never hit someone so hard before over food. (rip grim and ace)
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firegirl888101 · 11 days ago
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Insatiable Madness (11)
|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|
Now is your time to survive. Will you swallow your words? Or spit them and face the consequences, both good and bad?
Reader is Gender Neutral!
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"Alright... I can do this. This'll be a piece of cake." You paced yourself, walking around your room to clear your dooming thoughts.
"Nothing bad is going to happen; this isn't like back then. I'm in my room, where I can control what happens and when something happens. How much worse could my situation possibly get? The worst characters in the entire game are here, in my house already. It physically can't get any worse!"
"Shut up! You sound like a cult of fat Mitachurls dancing around a fire!" A Harbinger's voice shouted from downstairs, banging following their shouts.
"Break a hole in my ceiling and I swear to your archon I'll gouge out your eyes and bury them in my back garden!"
"Shuuuut up." The same voice shouted back quieter, going completely silent when another voice scolded them. You guessed it was a scolding, as their voice sounded authoritive despite being muffled. Pierro, perhaps.
This idea of yours better work. You're not fighting your past experiences for nothing! If these characters don't reply to you and make you sound (and look) like a dunce, you're done with the universe.
Speaking of being done with the universe, how on Earth did this even happen? It's not normal for fictional characters to know of the existence of people who created them. Are other games like this too? Or is Genshin Impact special in some way? And if it's just Genshin Impact, who's to say other Hoyoverse games don't have the same level of intelligence behind the characters?
It's a good thing you uninstalled Honkai Star Rail a month ago, who knows, it could have been the Stellaron Hunters in your house instead. Although... Arguably, you somehow think they'd be a lot better compared to the Harbingers.
Anyway, it's time to start your plan.
You booted up Genshin, eyeing the Celestia background hesitantly with shaking fingers, the sun in the background feeling more real considering your current circumstances.
Pushing your chair inwards in a hurry, you scrambled to get your notebook beside your PC to re-read the notes you wrote before. You didn't want to freeze up in the middle of your SOS speech, so you took it upon yourself to write key points of your argument and read them if you start feeling the anxiety creep in.
Ugh, thinking about how possibly the entirety of Teyvat was going to hear your voice scares you even more.
No, take deep breaths. The characters left aren't as evil as the Fatui, or have smart people such as Dottore or Sandrone. The only person you currently see as a threat is Albedo, but he shouldn't be a problem since his goal is to destroy Mondstadt.
You read your paper again:
Introduce yourself formally, keep it classy
Ask Aether what the FUCK the Harbingers think they're doing!!!
Beg Explain you could really use some help
Ask if there's any way someone on the other side, perhaps Albedo, could construct a portal to get these mangy, whining, murderous babies out of your house
Be polite, thank for listening, and wait for reply. Patience is key
If this little golden teenager with a ratty plait doesn't answer you, you're throwing your TV remote at your PC. ...Actually nevermind, it might come useful in the future.
Your screen suddenly loaded, the blinding white loading screen with each element fading to show the landscape. Your screen looked exactly how it did yesterday. With your Childe team, minus Childe obviously, in their idle animations outside of the Spiral Abyss portal in Mondstadt.
Okay, this is it. It's better to at least try rather than run away with cowardice. If you don't try, you'll never know whether it's actually possible to communicate with other characters. Also, in the small hope that the Harbingers leave your house, you can delete the game and start a new life. ...Hopefully.
You hesitantly went to the character selection screen and selected Aether, putting him in a team on his own with no other characters next to him. Noticeably, Arlecchino and surprisingly Wanderer aren't in the character menu either. Did the Harbinger's travel to Teyvat alter the course of history on their side? Interesting...
Now, where to communicate with him? Well, considering Signora is alive, the timeline must be just before or during Inazuma. Would staying in Mondstadt be a better place? Oh, who cares. You've got the guy in your party anyway. As long as he's there, it should be fine, right?
You selected the waypoint closest to Albedo's lab in Dragonspine, running to the camp and occasionally stopping to avoid freezing to death by using the orange seelies.
Then, you turn Aether's avatar to face you, his breath creating white vapour in the cold air of the mountain.
"So, uh, hello...!" You started, mumbling quietly as you scooch your chair back away from your desk.
No. Follow step one correctly, and be confident about it. You coughed before starting again, voice stronger but still quiet as to not alert the Harbingers.
"My name is Y/N, and I really need your help. I'm not sure what's happening on your side of things, and to be honest, I don't really care. If you haven't noticed on your journey by now, The 11 Fatui Harbingers have gone missing. Well, in your world anyway." You began.
"They somehow and miraculously ended up here, in my world. Specifically, my house. From what they've told me, they want to give me over to the Tsaritsa. I have no idea what that means, all I know is she'll probably kill me."
You waited for a response, any glitching similar to when Childe wasn't working in the abyss or visual cue to show someone (or something) was listening. You didn't see one, but continued anyway.
"I need your help to transport them back to Teyvat. I know what you're probably thinking, 'but the Fatui have been causing me problems on my journey to find my sister'. Unfortunately for you, they become important in developing your journey across each nation. I'm guessing you're currently in Inazuma or Liyue since Signora is still alive, even though I've brought you to Natlan? Ugh, this is so weird." You shook your head with a small grimace.
"Anyway, I'm really hoping you can hear me. If the Fatui of all possible people who could know of me are aware of my side and my existence, surely you and/or the Archons must know too? Maybe even the Abyss? After watching your journey in Natlan I can't stand them, but they did prove a long theory I had..."
You trailed off, hoping that maybe nobody replied to your speech because they were waiting for a moment you would stop so they could input. Alas, nothing changed. Aether was still as blank as ever, face unchanging to the world around him.
You tried everything to get a reaction. Kamera mode, Teapot mode, equipping different characters, changing locations, reloading the game... but nothing worked.
What were you doing wrong? If the Harbingers knew of your existence, surely that would have been because you used Childe a lot, right? There's nothing else you can think of that could be the cause. Unless, perhaps, the 'players' existence is a known fact throughout Teyvat? No, that couldn't be right. You've talked to NPC's and read hundreds of theories using lore found within the game. Not once did it ever mention a higher being above the Descenders, nor the Phane for that matter.
You hit the pause button in Genshin, huffing an angered sigh as you pushed your chair out aggressively. You'll have to try again later, that's the only thing you can do right now. Considering the Harbinger's have no idea what resources exist in this world, you're pretty sure it will take them awhile to figure out how to get back to Teyvat.
'Awhile' may sound like a long time, but you know Dottore will somehow cut that word by 3/4. Anyway, you'll have to save asking about a possible way to create a portal another time. Right now, what's more important is grasping a connection of understanding.
Well, you better start sorting out another problem that will soon come. The problem which Pulcinella actually pointed out, too.
Food.
And you know what you need to get more? Money.
If only Pantalone were useful in this world, then, he would be able to pay for all the expenses you'll need these next few weeks. You know, now that you're actually thinking about it, he's probably the most useless Harbinger here.
You sat up from your chair and left it pushed out, convincing yourself that this plan wasn't completely over. In truth, it wasn't. There was nothing wrong in trying again, was there? Sure, this session might have failed. But who's to say it won't work the next time? Or maybe the time after that?
...Right?
You left the room after eyeing your computer screen once more, scowling at the Genshin merch on your desk. That reminds you, you need to burn all the Harbinger merch the second you can. Maybe all your merch in fact. Okay that's a lie, although this instance has definitely scarred you for life, it won't stop you from keeping a few non-Fatui items.
Unfortunately, if you'd just looked at your desk one more time, you would have noticed Paimon waving frantically at you with a face of panic, shouting through the screen trying to get her voice to be heard on the other side.
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
"Okay, group time. We need to discuss something." You called everyone to the living room, snatching the remote from Pantalone's hand and turning the TV off.
"Pardon me, it was my turn to watch the television tonight." He excused himself aggressively, trying to swat the remote back into his hand.
"Not so funny when it's your turn, is it?" Dottore laughed at him, pausing his writing to mock the banker.
"Are you aware of how long I had to wait until I could have a look at my channel? I only just received the remote!" He complained, glaring at Dottore through his closed eyes.
"Hmph. To me, it looks like you're sleeping laying on the sofa like that." Sandrone scoffed, her posture straight.
"Alright, Alright," You quietened them. "Pantalone can get the remote back after I say what I need to."
After a short while of waiting, everyone except Pierro, Signora, Capitano and Childe had arrived in the living room to listen to what you had to say.
"Where are the other four? Why is there always someone missing when I need to say something important." You asked the Harbingers, sighing in frustration.
"Heh, Childe is out of commission at the moment." Scaramouche snickered to himself, eyes closed imagining the pain he's going through.
"That's not a 'where', it's a 'what'." You deadpanned.
"He's in the landing with Capitano. I brought him there since these two were taking over the sofa." Arlecchino answered.
"And... Signora and Pierro?"
"Signora's in the guest bedroom, fretting about her nails growing in a different direction that how'd she'd like them to. Pierro's still in the office signing paperwork that clearly isn't helpful to our situation at this moment in time."
"Thank you, at least someone's helpful." You nodded to her, Arlecchino nodding back in an understanding as she leant against the wall with her arms crossed.
"We need to talk about food. As Pulcinella reminded me earlier today, if we don't get more food we'll run out in about 3 days."
"Does that even matter?" Scaramouche interrupted you. "The majority of us don't even need to eat, you're just wasting your resources by feeding us. Besides, who would want to eat your aw--"
"What he means to say is," Pulcinella coughed to interrupt the puppet. "Yes, this is indeed a tough predicament. How are we to get the resources we need?"
"Well, we'll have to go to the shop and buy some. But to buy, we need money."
"Money? I have plenty of that." Pantalone questions with a bored tone, his head leaning into one of his hands.
"Stop forgetting what I told you earlier, you damned diva. Your money is useless here. If we want to get money, we'll have to work." You hushed him quickly.
"Work. Yes, of course." Arlecchino thought out loud. "But how do we work when we know nothing about this world?"
"Ugh, it's not that different to Teyvat! So, who's feeling like working?"
Nobody replied, everyone looking at eachother urging them to say yes instead of them.
"...Right, well, let's eliminate the people who can't work. Signora can't, as it would be way too risky. If the police somehow recovered the damaged footage and released it to the public, I'd be dead meat she'd blow her cover immediately," You started.
"Pulcinella and Pierro also can't, as they look way too old to be working. They'd be considered retirement age from looks alone. On the same topic, Columbina and Sandrone might have to stay behind too because of how child-like they look. Columbina might be able to get away with it, but it would still turn some heads in my opinion."
"Hah! It seems you're worth some praise." Sandrone commended you, letting out a hearty laugh in satisfaction. "However, this does cause some problems on my end of the bargain."
"And what problems would that be?"
"Why, exploring your world's machinery, of course! Becoming an engineer would be the perfect way to learn more about your world."
"Yes." You gave her a dead look. "And tell me, you're planning to become a professional's apprentice to learn? Something tells me your pride wouldn't let that happen."
"It can't be that difficult." She scoffed to herself, voice quiet and eyes narrow.
"I wanted to see more of this world..." Columbina sighed sadly, interjecting Sandrone. "Oh well, I suppose I can do that by asking you questions instead~"
"Right..." You sweated nervously.
"I have no objections." Pulcinella nodded with his eyes closed, being in agreeance. "We can discuss Sandrone's means to learn later, as I believe it would be an excellent idea."
You sighed once more, not bothering to argue more, and continued your rambling.
"Capitano is also a no in terms of getting a job. That helmet really stands out, and considering he can't and wouldn't want to take it off, I guess he's not going outside ever. Anyway, so, uh... We'll discuss who wants to have what job and when they'd like to start tomorrow. I'm going upstairs to tell Signora what's happening. Arlecchino, Pulcinella, could you both respectively tell Childe and Capitano, as well as Pierro this information?" You told them, head looking back over your shoulder before turning straight to walk up the stairs.
"Of course." They both replied, leaving to do their own thing.
As you were walking up the stairs, you could hear Pantalone and Dottore arguing for the remote. Funnily enough, it was Columbina's abnormal dry tone that caused the two to stop fighting and find something to watch together. Huh, you wished you could do that.
You knocked on the guest bedroom door, hearing Signora scoff and call out to the person on the other side telling them to enter. You walked into the bedroom silently, sitting on the bed waiting for her to talk to you.
She was sitting on the chair in front of the mirror, fiddling with a nail file whilst muttering about the state of her fingers. Beside her fumbling form was some nail varnish. Hold on a minute, aren't those your mothers?
"Signora, you wouldn't have happened to find the nail kit in front of you in my parent's bedroom, would you?" You asked her, feeling your annoyance begin to grow.
"Hm? Maybe I did. What's it to you?" She glared in the mirror, eyeing you without turning around.
"What's it to me??? Did you seriously just ask me that? You're using a dead woman's nail file and nail varnish!" You argued.
"Well, yes." She shrugged, a wicked grin growing on her face. "I'll have to make do with what I can get. If it weren't for the surprisingly beautiful colour and necessity of my manicure, I would have put the thought out of my head immediately."
"But those are just excuses! Look, if you really wanted a fucking manicure, you could have just asked for my stuff in my room."
"And how, for Teyvat's sake, was I supposed to know you had supplies in your room?" She eyed you strangely.
Well, she has a point. A dumb point, but one you'll accept as long as she stops using your mother's marriage anniversary nail kit.
"Just...! Just pass the nail kit to me and I'll give you my manicure bag. Stay here, and stay out of my parent's room." You warned her, snatching the nail file and nail varnish with haste.
You speedwalked to your bedroom, dumping the items on your desk with the thought to put those in your bedside drawer later. Stopping for a moment to look at your monitor still showcasing Genshin, you sighed and continued pacing the room to find your manicure bag. When finding the bag, you quickly swiped it off of the shelf and returned to the guest bedroom.
"Right." You started, dumping the bag and opening the zip to let her see what was inside the bag.
"Is this alright for you, your majesty?" You mocked her, unable to stop yourself from speaking. "You'll have everything you could possibly need for your nails in here. From different colours, to charms, to glitter. Capiche?"
"Hmm..." She fiddled with the bag, having a look at the colours you've given her. "Since you're here already, why don't you make yourself useful and do my nails for me? Do whatever you wish with them in terms of colour and point, I'd like to see how nails in this world differ from Teyvat." She ordered you with a wave of her hand, one leg over the other.
Is she actually joking?
"Are you kidding me? I'm not doing your nails for you!" You exclaimed, outraged at the suggestion itself.
"Oh, please. Don't act as if the suggestion is atrocious. Aren't you the one who often mentions our wrongdoings when we're minding our own business? Who's to say we can't do the same?"
"A normal person." You grumbled under your breath with squinted eyes. "Murder and stealing are two very different things."
"I hope you're as good as talking as you are making excuses." She rolled her eyes, laying her hands out in front of her. "Not only that, but doing nails. If I don't like them, you'll have hell to pay."
Well, looks like you don't have a choice in terms of doing her nails for her. What a prissy bitch.
"Fine." You scoffed at her, dragging a spare chair in the corner of the room to sit down.
You looked through the bag of colours you had, deciding to do a red and black gradient whilst leaving her nails relatively long and sharp. Perhaps you could add little light blue dots to the black gradient to highlight her eyes? Yes, that sounds like a good idea.
"Those are the colours you're choosing?" She raised on eyebrow with an uninterested frown.
"I'm sorry, your highness, were you expecting a pretty baby pink?"
"Continue." She rolled her eyes.
Filing and washing her nails to the perfect size, you began to paint the nails delicately. As you were working, you noticed Signora begin to soften her features, a small almost non-existent smile on her face with satisfaction in watching you work.
"Do you do nails often?" She asked you with a gentler tone, tilting her head to get a better look at you painting her smallest nail.
"Not really." You denied, shaking your head. "I only have this many colours because my mother liked to gift me stuff like this."
"Ah..." She made a noise of understanding. "So that's why the majority of your colours are still sealed."
"Yeah. I never used them because I saw no need to, occasionally I'd help my mother do hers if she went out to party with the neighbours. Also most of my Pinterest references use a specific set of colours."
"...Pinterest?"
"It's a type of catalogue." You tried your best to explain, fanning the nails hoping they would dry quickly.
"You can save pictures that other people post and use them for references. I like to use it for clothes and nail inspiration for my mother."
"That sounds... exquisite." Signora noted with wide eyes. "You mean to tell me different people from all over can post these pictures? And others seeing the pictures can use them as they wish?"
"Yup. Although, you saying that out loud makes me think you're thinking of something illegal." You deadpanned.
"I'm not!" She accidentally recoiled, slowly putting her hands back out when realising. "It just seems like a power not worthy on humans. Surely you would use such a powerful idea for messages instead of just pictures?"
"You're literally just describing a forum."
"Hm?"
"Nevermind!" You stated, grabbing the blue and adding dots to the black. Instead of ending it there as planned, you decided to add glitter and put a couple specks onto each dot. You looked back at the nails from a distance, finding satisfaction in your work.
"What do you think? If you don't like them, I don't care. To be fair, this is the first time I've done nails in awhile."
"I suppose they're... alright." Her cheeks turned slightly pink, hesitating in how to answer. "They're much better than what I thought they'd be. Your world has such vibrant colours for varnish, usually I just stick to black."
"I noticed." You put all your materials away, attempting to zip up the bag.
Before you could zip up the bag completely, Signora stopped your hand by placing hers over your own.
"Hey, don't move your hands so much! I just finished your nails!"
"Ahem. I believe we had a deal? You do my nails, and I'll do yours? Although I would rather spend my time doing something else, I am not one to back out of an agreement such as this."
Somehow, despite the day not going to plan, you don't hate how it ended. In fact, you feel as if you've grown a little closer to Signora today.
"Oh, and whilst I'm at it," She paused. "I better have a look at what clothes you have in your wardrobe. From what I see now, I don't think I'll like what I'll see in there."
You take back what you said earlier.
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Has anyone noticed I like the word 'prissy' a bit too much?
Anyway, Insatiable Madness is going to have longer Views from now on 🥳
I like this part a lot, it's definitely one of my favourite Views I've written so far!
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Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.
This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.
This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.
If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.
If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.
Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.
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✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:
@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers @conspicuous-mayonnaise @sielt @katsumikumo @greyhoundwires707 @carminerin @raidendeeznuts123 @angelofdarkness2 @shellofthewell @ginnxy-galaxy @clara-maddenlin @bk-4-trash-fire @uniqaal @tnsophiaonly @vianitry @dottoreandcolumbinaslovechild @melou008 @lsleepysimpl @steadybreadbluebird @thebigkessydisaster @eliciana @kamit-frog @twst-kumi @idk098 @kurayamioterasu @mmeatt @the-lazy-perfectionist @florelll @vvzhyxx @averycuriousperson @starlaisopaque @liyuedragonmorax @lovelive-animequeen1029 @mayythammyy
Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^
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armysantiny · 3 months ago
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A doctor’s worry – Zayne
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P: Zayne x gender neutral reader | G: fluff, drabble | Inc: mc overworking themselves (as usual), Zayne worrying over mc, Yvonne being a good friend, Zayne's sweet tooth, some indulgent fluff for the soul, calling Zayne 'Doctor Li' bc that's how the title works infold, obv don't take my desc of hospital life too seriously lmao | Wc: 718 | W: mc has an injury but no graphic desc. | R: G
Min's notes: When I tell you I was just writing this all day at work lmao. I just love the way Zayne loves </3
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"Hey, Zayne? Do we have the MRI results from last night's case?" Greyson's asking him, both doctors on their way to their respective offices after catching each other in the car park.
"We should do, I'll forward it on to you once I'm inside."
The hospital's busy today, everyone's schedule packed with either meetings, patient appointments, surgeries, or some unholy combination of all three. And for once, Zayne couldn't be more thankful that his schedule is much the same, the gruelling but rewarding hours of his double shift awaiting him.. Sat in his chair while he types out a letter of recommendation for a patient just gone to see a physiotherapist, Zayne sips on the glass of water on his desk, too occupied to do much else other than his job.
At least today, being busy out of his mind helps. It helps him not stress over y/n taking a mission in the No Hunt Zone. The hunter, for all their skill and natural talent, has a mind numbingly stubborn habit of overworking themselves to the point of injury and beyond. Which is why Zayne is trying to bury his concern underneath an avalanche of work, because y/n is working on a sprained ankle.
The doctor even managed to spot the beginning signs of swelling that morning before they left, but y/n was already out the door by the time he opened his mouth.
See you tonight love, they had said, don't push yourself too hard.
How cruel, to remind him to not push himself all the while leaving the vines of worry to bloom around his heart. But he loves y/n anyway, so they're not to blame when Zayne finds that he's no longer frustrated by the waiting, just longing for his hunter to return home so he can fuss over them until the vines relent until the next time they decide to put themselves at risk.
So lost in replying to emails, Zayne nearly doesn't hear the knock at the door, looking up from his screen moments before the knocking becomes more urgent.
"Come in."
"Doctor Li?" It's Yvonne, and Zayne's frigid politeness melts away a tad into something a bit more friendly. "You didn't show up for lunch... so I thought I'd take the liberty of bringing something up from the cafeteria. I recall y/n mentioning your affinity for sweet things?"
It's then, as he's taking the boxed lunch with a gentle thank you, that Zayne notices the separate box of two macarons that Yvonne's handing him. They're from his favourite café. Of course they are. Of course, his love would dutifully tell his colleagues what to do should he be too absorbed in his work. Astra above, he loves them.
When Yvonne leaves, clearly satisfied that the cardiovascular specialist isn't going to go hungry, Zayne allows himself to smile, his own heart fond and aching all the same.
"I'll save one for you."
In between his responsibilities and workload, the doctor hardly realises when the sun begins to set, painting the sky all kinds of pinks and oranges before, inevitably, the sky is dark. Moonlight shines through the gaps in his closed blinds, illuminating his desk in its cool light for a handful of minutes until Zayne is forced to get up and turn the lights on, fluorescent white irritating his eyes for a second. If y/n was here, they'd tell him to squint first, let his eyes adjust until he's comfortable. He can't help but think about them now, most of his tasks done for the day and his mind free enough to think about his lover, how much he misses them, would rather they stay in his arms, stay off their injury and rest...
His phone rings.
"Hello." His expression is soft.
"Zayne! Sorry for going no contact love," y/n says, clearly satisfied with their day. They're forgiven, as always. "I'm on my way back to the office, I'll see you in the hour?"
"Sure. I'll come and pick you up, you shouldn't be putting anymore strain on your ankle."
He can practically hear the amused rolling-of-eyes from y/n.
"Yes doctor~ see you soon! Love you!"
"Love you too, y/n." He hangs up the phone and takes a good look at his office. He can afford to leave a little early tonight.
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anonymous-dentist · 8 months ago
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Or: Prince Roier Hires a Faerie to Help With His Divorce (he hasn't gotten married yet)
For day two of @smallchaoscryptid's Spiderbit Week - Fae/Kiss
-
Once upon a time...
Roier picks his way through the foliage with a grimace. His feet hurt, twigs keep smacking into his face, bugs keep flying into his mouth. This sucks, but it'll all be worth it.
Thunder rolls above, and rain starts pouring down without a second's warning.
...It'll all be worth it.
He's due back at the castle by morning, but, honestly, he'd kinda rather die than go back. If the wolves eat him, so be it!
Grumbling, he pulls his hood up over his head, and he continues onward. If he freezes to death out here, so be it!
He's not planning on going back to the castle alive, anyway.
Legend has it that, deep in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla, there lives a man-eating witch capable of tearing a man's soul from his body before he can so much as breathe in her general direction. Nobody knows this witch's name, but everybody knows that she's totally fucked up: if she isn't eating people, she's eating bears, and her magic is said to be as destructive as the eruption that created the universe.
Roier needs to meet her now.
So he continues trudging through the woods. The lantern in his hand is fighting to stay lit, and his boots are filled with enough water to drown a rat with, but he's fine. He's going to die miserable, but he's fine.
There's a flash of lightning bright enough to blind him, and then there's a crash of thunder loud enough to make him jump and nearly drop his lantern. When his vision returns, the tree in front of him is toppled to the side, leaving only a charred and smoking stump behind.
And then there's the cat.
Roier, frankly, stares. Because... what?
It's a cute cat, at least: brown with black stripes almost like a tiger's and blue eyes so bright that they almost seem to glow in the night. It sits on the stump with its tail curled around its paws, very polite, 10/10 cat.
Hesitantly, Roier approaches. He holds the lantern up to the cat, tilts his head, smiles.
"You're so cute," he coos, bending down to pet the cat between its little ears. "What are you doing out here, eh?"
The cat yawns, and then it huffs, "I could ask you the same question."
Roier screams and recoils and drops his lantern. It goes out, but the forest doesn't grow any dimmer because the cat is fucking glowing now, okay. Okay!
The cat rolls its eyes, tail twitching. "Okay, ouch. I'm not that scary."
"You're a talking cat," Roier breathes. "What the fuck?"
"What, you were expecting the witch?"
A pause.
Then:
"Oh, come on!"
Roier finally collects himself, brushing the water off of his cloak and adjusting his hood and picking up his lantern.
The cat stands and starts pacing the stump in a small, annoyed circle.
"The witch isn't even real," it complains. "She never was! Witches aren't real!"
Roier frowns. "Fuck you, man, my best friend is a witch."
"They aren't. Witches aren't real. Magicians are real, but witches-"
"You are literally a talking cat."
"I am a faerie," the cat corrects, sounding almost pained as it does so. "Faeries are real. Witches are fake. It's all anti-faerie propaganda created by the Federation-"
"By the what?"
The cat flicks his tail at Roier; Roier's mouth shuts, and, to his alarm, he finds that he can't open it again no matter how hard he tries.
The cat angrily swipes a leaf off of the stump. Unfortunately, it is really cute as it does so.
But then it starts complaining again, and Roier decides that this annoying fucking faerie cat isn't that cute after all.
"I haven't eaten anybody in centuries!" the cat shouts. "Fucking Cucurucho..."
Roier's eyes widen.
He waves at the cat until the cat does its magic thing again and allows him to talk.
First, Roier sucks in a deep breath through his mouth. That was uncomfortable.
Then, he says, "I know Cucurucho. I'm supposed to marry him in three days."
The cat's eyes narrow. Its shadow beneath it seems to grow; it tinges itself red like a pool of water with blood in it, wow. That's almost cool.
"That's why I'm here," Roier explains. "I need the witch to kill me so I don't have to marry him."
The cat sits.
"I see," it says. "Unfortunately, the witch isn't real."
"Suuuure, but you are." Roier sneaks closer. "Can't you just-" He opens his hands and wiggles his fingers. "-magic me dead?"
The cat stares at Roier's fingers. "Um. No. Faeries can't kill."
Roier deflates. "Ugh."
With a frustrated groan, he sits on the stump next to the cat. The cat grumbles, but it doesn't, like, magic him onto the ground, so that's kinda nice of it.
"But," the cat says, slowly as if questioning itself as it speaks, "I can get you to kill for me."
Oh. Now there's a thought. But...
Roier looks to the side at the cat. "I've tried. I'm pretty sure he's immortal, man."
"You haven't tried killing him with faerie magic. Now, come here."
The cat hops off of the stump and pads into the forest. After a moment, Roier follows.
They walk until they reach a hollowed-out tree. Then, the cat hops into the tree and mutters to itself as it looks for something.
Eventually, the cat pokes its head out of the tree with an opaque brown bottle held in its mouth.
Roier takes the bottle and turns it over in his hands.
"This," the cat says, "is extract of unicorn. Mix this in with Cucurucho's food, and he'll be dead by the end of the night."
Roier's mouth twitches. It'll happen, just like that? Just like that? Decades of oppression over just. Like. That?
"Okaaayyy," Roier drawls. He looks back up at the cat with a small smile. "Thank you."
The cat responds by clambering out of the tree and lounging on a branch hanging by Roier's face.
"No, thank you," the cat insists. "You'll be doing us both a favor if you manage to kill that asshole."
"If this kills him, you'll be a hero."
"Oh, I'm no hero. I'm just..." (The cat grins with far too many teeth in its mouth.) "...an invested party."
Well, the cat is probably evil. But that's fine. So is Cucurucho, and two wrongs make a right, right?
-
Well, wrong! Because Cucurucho isn't fucking dead.
Roier stomps back to the tree stump with the faerie's empty unicorn piss whatever bottle in hand. He doesn't have a lantern this time because, frankly, he really isn't intent on returning to the castle this time. If he trips over a root and dies, so be it!
The cat is nowhere to be seen. Of course, the bastard.
"Gatinho!" Roier calls. He cups both hands around his mouth and spins in a circle and continues shouting, "Gatinho! Where the fuck are you! Come here!"
No response.
Frustrated, Roier chucks the bottle to the ground and plops onto the stump. He puts his head in his hands and groans.
"I am going to fucking die," he moans. "I can't go home, I need to die, what the fuck."
A twig snaps. A presence ghosts over his shoulder, what feels like fingers grazing his tunic. But, when he snaps his head up and turns around, all he sees is the cat sitting behind him.
Roier's eyes narrow. "You."
"Me," the cat agrees. "Did it work? Is he dead? Please tell me he's dead. He's dead, right?"
"No! He isn't! He thought that unicorn shit was edible glitter! Now he wants it at the wedding!"
The cat blinks. "Huh."
"Yeah, 'huh'." Roier huffs and turns back around and hides his face again. "Fuck you, man. You said it would kill him."
"It should've. He's a demon, right?"
"How should I know? He's a fucking bear wizard thing."
"Okay, again, wizards aren't real, magicians are. But you're marrying him, right? How do you not know what species he is?"
"It's not like I'm getting a choice in the matter," Roier spits. He glares into the palms of his hands, shoulders shaking with barely-concealed rage. "Either I marry him or he destroys the kingdom."
There's a pregnant pause as the cat takes this information in. Fair, honestly. Roier hadn't exactly told him that he's a prince. Wasn't important, still isn't important. Doesn't matter if he's a prince if he's being sold off to marry a goddamn bear like he's a common animal.
It's for the good of the kingdom, Foolish had said. He and Vegetta have always liked Cucurucho despite Cucurucho being a legendary fucking creep. It's either you or Leo.
And Roier isn't the one that's meant to take the throne after his parents die.
"Can't you just kill me?" Roier asks. He waves a hand in a random direction. "Just make a tree fall on me or something. It'll be an accident, it's fine, your faerie cops won't know."
"Um, no," the cat says. "That's fucked up."
"Don't you eat people? How the fuck do you eat people without killing them?"
"Who says I killed them before eating them?"
Ah. Sounds about right.
...Kinda cool, to be honest. Imagining a tiny little kitty cat rip a grown dude apart like he's a slice of bread. Almost funny in a way.
Roier jumps as something brushes the hair out of his face.
He jerks his head upright and glares down at the cat, now sitting delicately in front of him.
"I have an idea," the cat tells him. "Follow me."
As they walk back to the hollow tree, the cat asks, "Does Cucurucho still have that freaky mechanical sword?"
Roier thinks. "Maybe? I don't know, he kinda just sits and stares at people. Sometimes he chases the servants around with a sword? Dunno if it's mechanical, though..."
"Well, any sword will work. Hold on."
The cat leaps into the tree and comes out with a new bottle, this one clear.
Roier takes the bottle and swishes it around. The liquid inside looks like oil, okay...
"This is dragon's blood," the cat explains. "It's corrosive to the touch, so be careful. Tell him that it's a special polish for his sword. It should eat his skin to the bone and kill him dead."
"Huh," Roier says, suddenly much more careful with the bottle. He gently slides it into his pocket, makes sure it's secure between a bag of coins and his headband. "Okay. Cool."
"This should work," the cat says. "But I'll try and think of something else for if it doesn't."
"Yeah, well, it'd better work," Roier huffs. "I'm getting married in two days. Then the gods only know what he's gonna do with me."
"Trust me, we'll figure it out."
"Trust you? Aren't you some kind of evil faerie cat?"
The cat looks offended. "Excuse you, I'm barely evil anymore. All I do is read these days. Do you know how many books I have at my house? More than Cucurucho, that's for sure."
"You have a house?"
The cat visibly bristles. "Of course I have a house. What, do you think I'm homeless?"
"You are a cat."
"Not all the time!"
Oh, that's interesting. Roier can almost imagine what the cat looks like in a human form, but the idea escapes him at the last second.
"Whatever," Roier sighs. "Just kill me tomorrow if this doesn't work."
-
Roier doesn't even bother shouting as he storms up to the stump.
He sits, pulls his cloak off, tosses it to his feet, kicks it away. What the fuck!!
He doesn't so much as blink as the cat appears by his side.
"It didn't work?" the cat cries. "Really? That should've worked!"
"Yeah, well, it didn't," Roier huffs. "He wore gloves today. And Cucurucho figured out that I've been sneaking out to see someone at night, so he told my parents that we're going to move to a different castle out in the middle of nowhere. I bet he's going to lock me up, the piece of shit."
The cat's ears lay back on its head. Its eyes narrow, and its lip curls back in a clear snarl.
"I know," Roier agrees. "Fuck this guy for real."
"Fuck him."
"Fuck him!"
Roier smiles just for a second, and he even manages a brief laugh before remembering, right. He's fucking doomed. Right.
Sighing, he slumps to the side until he's tumbling off of the stump and splayed across the ground. He buries his face in the grass and screams.
To his credit, he hardly jumps as a hand firmly settles on his back and rubs it. Small circles, firm hand, big hand, it feels like, wow.
Something- a knee?- presses against Roier's arm firmly. It's grounding in a way. Almost.
"I'm getting married tomorrow," Roier whines. "Just kill me, gatinho. I promise I won't tell anyone."
"I'm not going to kill you, guapito," the cat says. (Roier blushes. Guapito...) Its voice sounds deeper, almost. Louder. More clear. "I can't."
"Then what am I supposed to do? Marry Cucurucho?"
"I won't let that happen."
"Why? Because you want to kill him? Because that hasn't exactly been working so far."
"Because it's super fucked up that he's forcing you to marry him. I don't give a shit about the kingdom, I don't live there. I want him dead, but I'm starting to think that he's unkillable."
The hand moves from Roier's back up to his head. Fingers sift through his hair. Woooow, that feels good. When's the last time Roier got touched this softly? Before Cucurucho arrived?
"I've been thinking," the cat continues. "I've been keeping an eye on Cucurucho for centuries, but he's never tried destroying the kingdom before now. Before you. I think that, if you're gone, then he might leave, too."
Roier cracks an eye open. He doesn't shift his head at all, so he can only just barely make out a hint of cloth. So the cat has clothes when he's a human, that's cool, Roier guesses. Makes him wonder where they came from.
"So... kill me," Roier tells him. "If it'll get him to leave the kingdom alone, kill me."
"I can't do that."
"I'm not next in line for the throne! It's fine! Just push me into the river, I can't swim."
"You can't swim? Really?"
"Well, I can, but I can pretend that I can't!"
"You are so... selfless," the cat says, sounding completely exasperated. "And stupid. No, come with me. I know how we can solve this without killing you."
The hand leaves Roier's head, and then a cold nose is poking at his cheek until he's sitting up and looking the cat right in its little kitty eyes.
"Do you still have cat eyes when you're in another form?" Roier can't help but ask. "That would be really cool."
The cat chuckles. "Maybe. Come on. I have one last thing we can try."
They go to the hollow tree, and Roier waits as the cat scrambles into the tree and surfaces with a necklace clutched in its teeth.
Roier takes the necklace and inspects it. It's a solid gold chain with a little charm that looks like a cat's head. Cute.
"What, is this evil faerie gold that will melt Cucurucho's skin off?" Roier asks.
"No, it's for you," the cat replies. "Wear it tomorrow. When the wedding reaches the climax, take the necklace off and break it."
Roier points at the cat accusingly. "You are going to kill me!"
The cat rolls its eyes. "I'm not. Just... trust me."
Trust the man-eating faerie cat, sure. Right.
Roier sighs, but he puts the necklace on, anyway. It's surprisingly warm around his neck.
The cat almost seems to smile. "You look lovely."
"This thing is going to explode and blow my head off."
"No, you'll see."
And, well. What choice does Roier have but to wait and see?
-
The final wedding preparations go by in an uncomfortable blur.
Leo comes in to hug Roier goodbye. She then punches Roier in the stomach and tells him to write to her once he's at his new house.
Jaiden comes in to help Roier finish getting ready. She's happy about the marriage because she really thinks that Cucurucho is a good person, and Roier can't help but be happy that she's happy.
Foolish comes in to walk Roierto the church. He and Vegetta each take one of Roier's arms, and they walk.
And then Cucurucho is waiting at the church in front of the altar in an all-white suit. His fur is meticulously brushed, his claws are polished, his smile is painted on, he's absolutely grotesque.
Roier hates him.
"Good morning," Cucurucho says as Roier settles in front of the altar.
"It's sunset, you fucking idiot," Roier snaps. He can say what he wants now, right? He's going to die, anyway. The cat is going to kill him.
Cucurucho laughs, and then the ceremony starts.
Roier tunes out most of the goings-on if only to keep himself from breaking down and breaking the necklace before it's time. The cat said to wait until the climax, so Roier's going to wait for the goddamn climax.
He comes back to himself as the cleric asks if anybody in the audience has any objections to the marriage.
This sounds like a fucking climax if Roier's ever heard one.
"Yes," he says. "I object!"
He tears the necklace from around his neck and throws it to the floor. Before anybody can stop him, he slams his heel into the charm.
The entire church erupts into screams as a blinding white light fills it. Magic tears at Roier's skin, biting and pulling. He squeezes his eyes shut, anticipating the end of it all.
But:
"I also object," the cat says.
Two large hands settle on Roier's upper arms, and he's pulled back and against a firm chest.
Roier tilts his head back- not too far, because the cat's human form is shorter than he is, funnily enough- and his eyes widen as he takes in the most beautiful man in the world. Long hair the same color as the cat's coat, scarred face, feathery earrings, cat eyes.
"No," Curucucho snaps. "No!"
"Yes!" the cat- well, not the cat, Roier supposes- shouts. "The prince is mine! He swore himself to me the moment he accepted that necklace, and so he will go back with me to the Faewild and become my husband. You know the rules, bear."
Leo, in the audience, cheers. So does Foolish, who always appreciates a good show.
"Gatinho," Roier hisses.
The faerie shrugs his concerns off. Roier is annoyed about this for exactly three seconds before he gets caught up in the faerie's eyes.
Could be a worse arranged marriage, that's for sure...
A long moment passes, but Cucurucho eventually says a begrudging, "Yes."
"So," the faerie continues, "you will not destroy the kingdom for this. If the prince has already been promised to somebody else, then he never rejected you."
"Yes," Cucurucho sighs.
"You're hot when you're arguing," Roier whispers.
The faerie's cheeks redden, as do the tips of his pointed ears. Cute!
Yeah, no, this arranged marriage will be way better than the last one.
"So!" The faerie turns Roier around so that they're looking at each other properly for the first time eye-to-eye. "You will be coming with me."
"Yeah, okay," Roier agrees. Hell yeah. "Take me, gatinho."
"'Take me'?" Foolish gasps. "Ooooo, this is getting spicy!"
"All you need to do is say my name," the faerie says.
He leans in close and whispers right into Roier's ear, and Roier returns the favor... with a couple of flirtatious remarks thrown in for good measure. Sue him, he's about to get married to a sexy faerie. He's going to make the most of the situation.
"Cellbit," Roier murmurs, and something tickles at his skin. Something... purple. It feels purple. Soft and purple.
"Roier," the faerie replies. He looks positively flustered, aww. He's going to be so fun to tease once they're out of the church.
As the Faewild's magic starts to pick up, Roier can't help but give the faerie a grateful kiss.
The faerie blinks away from the kiss after a moment of some very eager lip-chasing. His face is completely red, and his eyes are wide and unblinking even as the magic around them whips like the wind.
"There's more where that comes from," Roier teases. He puts his arms around the faerie and smiles. "You're marrying me, get used to it. That's just part of the deal."
Because faeries are all about deals, right? Well, Roier's the best deal this guys is ever gonna get.
The faerie swallows, an eager grin teasing at his face.
"Yeah," he breathes. "Alright."
He pulls Roier's head down for another kiss just as the Faewild swallows them whole.
-
(Legends say that there are monsters living in the haunted forest surrounding the Kingdom of Quesadilla. Once monster is a man-spider with glowing red eyes and fangs the length of one's sword. The other is a furry snarling beast of a thing with magic worthy of the most powerful of witches.
Ah, but don't worry, my child, for these monsters don't hunt humans.
No, they hunt bears, and isn't that a good thing for us?)
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copperbadge · 1 year ago
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A horror trope that I very much enjoy is the "haunted book" -- a book that affects the reader in some way, like the Necronomicon driving people mad, or Dr. Mabuse's book that hypnotizes its reader into doing his bidding. It recently had a nice moment in the Magnus Archives, with the Leitner subplot, and there's even a hint of it in Frankenstein, when Victor reads the work of a scientist that his professors dismiss as nonsense and becomes obsessively deranged studying the subject matter.
So it's not that I think it's time for a revival and lord knows the word "reboot" has begun to stink of soulless profit (I think we're one, maybe two flops from a reboot of the MCU). I'm not the most current on horror media in any case so maybe it's been done, but if not I do think we oughta start considering the idea of a haunted phone app.
Apps are already designed for this, anyway. In our current era, a lot of retail "apps" are just reskinned browsers that load an optimized version of the company's website, and the goal of most apps and websites is to keep you in the app/website. (Which is why the google mail and tumblr apps both have internal web browsers.) A lot of phone games are designed to keep you in the game and continually redirect you towards microtransactions, and even apps that aren't games often gamify use; "gamification" has come to be a polite euphemism for "creating addictive circumstances".
Alongside this, a lot of recent cults and cultlike organizations have determined that straight religion is not the best way in anymore, and are coming in sidelong through MLMs (Nexium), wellness and dietary orthodoxies (Bikram Yoga, a number of insta/tiktok orthorexia gurus), or political movements (Qanon). So you get a cult, set up like a business, with an app you use for your business -- or even a cult with a "wellness" app that monitors your sleep, eating, location (wait, that's just FitBit) -- and slowly it gamifies you right into attempting to raise a Great Old One using the power of your downstream or a nice big helping of olive oil coffee.
Although I hate those thinkpieces/art pieces that are all about "you're so busy on your phone you can't appreciate the world around you, remember when we read real paper books" so I would require that the protagonist defeat the evil also using a phone app, or at the very least blind the evil using the flashlight function. Locking the book away in a library app and then putting the phone on airplane mode is a nice resolution, followed perhaps by it lighting up even though it's offline with a message "someone is attempting to locate this phone" as the post-credits stinger for the sequel.
This thought brought to you by Duolingo, which recently fed me, in succession, the task of translating from Italian the phrases
Who do you see in the mirror?
We open the curtains and see the light.
The pillows and blankets are red.
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possamble · 7 months ago
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Do you have any headcanons or thoughts about Falin having a crush on Marcille pre-canon? Especially during her later years at the school/the years she was with Laios.
Just full on "awkward and slightly gnc teenage lesbian has a massive crush on the touchy-feely girly girl straight best friend" tropes everywhere. Even better bc it's the "best friend is also the popular girl while lesbian is the slightly ostracized quiet one" dynamic in school. Falin gets so so so good at not having a heart attack every time Marcille gets in her personal space. But she's so resigned to never saying anything bc why would a girl as blinding as Marcille ever like her back. She also doesn't make an effort to get over it either, she's just content to be trapped in that stable dynamic of silently being in love with Marcille while getting to enjoy CLEARLY being Marcille's favourite person. She gets so used to it that it's almost just background noise most of the time-- it would have to be, unless she wanted to be freaking out 24/7 bc Marcille is so goddamn affectionate.
Her feelings also definitely change throughout the time that they're in school together-- at first it was this "whooaaah pretty older girl" puppy crush that you can clearly see developing in the flashbacks we get (I think she doesn't even like... realize her fixation on Marcille is romantic at all until years after it starts, when she's 12-14 ish and all the other girls around her are talking about crushes). But then they get closer, over the years Marcille starts getting really attached and letting down her guard, and Falin gets to see the ridiculous side of her. She gets to calm her down from her tantrums when experiments don't work out, or help her clean up when something explodes in her face. I feel like the progression of her feelings from "schoolgirl infatuation" to "unrequited love" probably almost exactly corresponds to how slowly Marcille goes from trying to keep Falin at a polite but friendly distance (like she does with everyone else) to her facade completely eroding as she becomes her cheerful and ridiculous self again for the first time since her father died.
That's probably the saddest part: Falin knows that she's clearly Marcille's favourite person on the surface level, but she doesn't quite fully grasp the enormity of what that means to Marcille. She doesn't get that she's the person who made the world colorful again for Marcille, that she is the first person outside of Marcille's family to really and truly make her laugh. She just thinks she's the beloved but dinky little short-lived sidekick, one of many that Marcille has had and will have.
Part of it is that, despite Marcille becoming such a clingy and affectionate best friend, I think her initial demeanour already did its damage. You see Falin being super adventurous and weird at first, bringing Marcille berries and other stuff, only to be rebuffed by Marcille exasperatedly saying she's working or looking kind of put off by it. And by the time you see her a little older, shes already quieter and better at masking -- and I'm not saying that that's entirely Marcille's fault (being the weird girl at an all girls academy for almost the entirety of her teenhood must have been brutal, my god) but she definitely learned that she's a potential nuisance to Marcille if she doesn't tone herself down. She learned that Marcille most likely sees her as a weird little kid following her around bc she has no other friends. And for the most part, she was never given any reason to unlearn any of that.
And that all very very smoothly transitions into Marcille being her "first love that was never meant to be anyway" when she leaves the academy. Chapter closed in her mind: she loved and pined from a distance and that was that. Every now and then she'll see another woman with Marcille's build or her shade of hair and be like ":( I miss her..." But then just kinda move on with her day. Same with when she's going through her own spellbook and finds a note that Marcille left her/correction that she made-- she'll smile fondly and reminisce about how much Marcille doted on her, and then move on.
Sometimes she thinks about contacting Marcille but convinces herself that it's too late (she spent too many months focusing on getting Laios healthy again and didn't mean to go no contact, but ah well). It's only when she has a practical reason to be reaching out that would also benefit Marcille ("Marcille is studying dungeons and we need a trustworthy mage to go with us to the dungeons") that she feels like she's allowed/that it wouldn't just be 100% a nuisance.
I almost think she didn't expect Marcille to reply at all, only to get a telegraph (or some in-universe equivalent of express mail, maybe magical pigeon carrier) that's like. EN ROUTE TO ISLAND. LETTER TO FOLLOW. and she freaks out like AAAA LAIOS SHE SAID YES WE HAVE TO CLEAN UP NOW.
I do think getting a response accidentally sparks a little hope in her, judging by the way she acts in the chp 57 flashback-- she's pouty that Marcille sees her as a kid, gets really worked up about being presentable, and then tries to play it cool when she actually meets Marcille (as if she didn't freak out and force Laios to shave while rambling a mile a minute about Marcille). She's an adult now, really and truly, and she's seen and survived things that her 18 yr old self would have never even imagined-- then all of a sudden, the person she was in love with since she was ten years old appears, and she's so desperate to be seen as mature and competent. She's trying soooo hard to impress Marcille with her newfound combat and dungeoneering experience...
Only to fall right back into their old dynamic. RIP. At least she gets the girl eventually, even if it takes dying twice and being the core catalyst behind an almost-apocalypse.
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youremyheaven · 6 months ago
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The Severity, Spirituality and Stoicism of Saturnians ✊🏼🧎‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️
I will be criticizing Saturnian men throughout this post, if you don't like that, stop reading right now <3
Saturn is the planet of karma, justice, discipline, and order. In Claire's video about Saturnian men, she observed that "in Saturnian men you will find an exact duality contained here in breaking rules and doing strange stunts, pranks and having outbursts etc but also paradoxically find themselves submitting to ideologies, cults, political parties, motivational affirmations etc"
I feel like I touched upon this a bit in my first post about Saturn and in this post I'd like to go into different manifestations of this tendency along with some other things I've observed with Saturnian men.
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Timothee Chalamet, UBP Moon
Full disclosure, I've never liked him lmao,, I think the hype he gets is undeserved and 90% bc of the fact that there is a dearth of young charismatic actors in Hollywood.
But anywayyys, Timmy Tim first attracted controversy for working with Woody Allen even though he's since expressed regret for it or whatever,, then he received flak for having sex in a pool during the height of the pandemic and manyyyy blinds about him giving women chlamydia 💀💀started making the rounds and he was lowkey exposed for being a whore
Then last year he drew criticism for smoking indoors at a Beyonce concert (where smoking is prohibited) and he's literally talking to Kylie and blowing smoke ??? at the same time?? which is sooo filthy?? who tf does that??
His silence on the Armie Hammer issue and pretty much all issues lol have also been criticized. Everybody thought he'd be some woke liberal activist but he's just been dead quiet and pretty self absorbed the whole time. He loves to lap attention and give absolutely nothing in return to the community.
The thing with Saturn however is that, bad behaviour does not go unpunished. Timmy Tim has been getting A LOT of flak and the total rose tinted obsession people had with him is slowly fading (even tho he still has legions of fans). People are now starting to see his true colors.
But anyway, this is a very minor issue compared to all the other Saturnians I'm going to mention next.
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Jeffrey Epstein, UBP Moon, Anuradha Rising
I'm assuming most of you are familiar with sex offender Epstein. He has trafficked thousands of underage girls over the course of decades and to satiate numerous high profile paedophiles.
He committed suicide while in prison. One thing about Saturn is that, if you stray, are immoral, unfair, undisciplined, corrupt, foul, evil etc it WILL punish you. The truth is Saturnians know deep down that what they're doing IS wrong, they're not like Moon dominants who are completely convinced their corrupt evil idea is a "good" one. Saturnians know full well what they're doing and they do it anyway and they suffer its consequences.
Inviting Saturn's wrath upon oneself is basically how these natives find "balance", they feel like they get away with too much and they're constantly pushing their limits to see how far they can go before this wrath comes for them.
Epstein had been doing this for decades without much consequence, working with extremely high profile people including politicians and royalty. Eventually, he was caught and the truth of his immorality was exposed for all to see AND he ended his own life.
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Salvador Dali- UBP Moon
Dali was known for being an eccentric and a weirdo and you can say that the way he pushed his boundaries as an artist is a more "positive" manifestation of Saturnian individuals and their need to test limits.
However, Dali was also a pretty messed up guy
Dali admitted on several occasions to having sadomasochistic tendencies. As a child he enjoyed throwing himself down the stairs, explaining that “The pain was insignificant, the pleasure was immense”. Shockingly, he once pushed his childhood friend off of a 15-foot bridge – as his friend lay injured, Dali apparently sat calmly eating cherries.
Pleasure and pain seemed intimately entwined. Dali wanted both. One other childhood incident of note included a wounded bat. It was kept in Dali's washhouse hideaway and stayed there overnight. When Dali returned to it was being devoured by a mass of ants. He impulsively bit into the seething mass delirious with pleasure. 
I had briefly mentioned how Saturnians tend to be sadomasochistic in my previous post about Saturn and these examples just confirm it further.
When he is an adolescent a girl falls desperately in love with him. He kisses and caresses her so as to excite her as much as possible, but refuses to go further. He resolves to keep this up for five years (he calls it his ‘five-year plan’), enjoying her humiliation and the sense of power it gives him. He frequently tells her that at the end of the five years he will desert her, and when the time comes he does so.
When he first meets his future wife, Gala, he is greatly tempted to push her off a precipice. He is aware that there is something that she wants him to do to her, and after their first kiss the confession is made:
I threw back Gala's head, pulling it by the hair, and trembling with complete hysteria, I commanded: ‘Now tell me what you want me to do with you! But tell me slowly, looking me in the eye, with the crudest, the most ferociously erotic words that can make both of us feel the greatest shame!’ Then Gala, transforming the last glimmer of her expression of pleasure into the hard light of her own tyranny, answered: ‘I want you to kill me!’
He is somewhat disappointed by this demand, since it is merely what he wanted to do already. He contemplates throwing her off the bell-tower of the Cathedral of Toledo, but refrains from doing so.
George Orwell once described Dali this way:
"The two qualities that Dali unquestionably possesses are a gift for drawing and an atrocious egoism."
Art historian and critic Brian Sewell has also claimed that Dali once asked him to lie naked in front of one of his sculptures and masturbate whilst he watched.
He was also obsessed with Hitler in a perverse way.
While the vast majority of the Surrealist group professed far-Left political leanings, Dali kept curiously quiet during his early career, before being kicked out of the group for being a Nazi sympathiser, which he denied. Dali went on to make artwork addressing the Hitler, including “The Enigma of Hitler” (above) and “Hitler Masturbating”, once detailing that he “often dreamed of Hitler as a woman” and that the Nazi dictator “turned [him] on”.
He was a big old fascist who also supported the Spanish dictator Franco which made Picasso stop talking to him for the rest of his life. Orwell who fought in the Spanish civil war called Dali a "disgusting human being".
At age six, Dalí writes in his autobiography, he pre-meditated a "terrible kick" to his three-year-old sister's head "as though it had been a ball." Not simply childish not-knowing-better, this baseless cruelty continued as Dalí got older.
Here is an article that says more about his shitty behaviour.
Here is another article about his fcked up relationship with his sister
Saturn never fails to punish tho. It will let you fck up but punishment is imminent.
Dali died in his 80s, almost penniless, completely alone, as he had driven all his friends off decades prior, his wife had already passed and he was seriously ill and bedridden. He used button to call his nurse and one day that button short circuited and set him/the bed on fire. He suffered second and third degree burns all over his body. He lived for another four years in severe pain before passing away.
Just because you go a whole lifetime avoiding punishment, does not mean it isn't coming. People who suffer in old age have it the worst because you suffer 100x more
Dali was a Saturn defying narcissistic, violent, abusive person and guess what Saturn did? It saved it all up for the very end and left him without any kind of mercy. Friendless, penniless, bedridden, in excruciating pain, FOR YEARS until he finally died.
Saturn punishes you/is a harsh teacher because it wants you to uphold the Saturnian qualities of virtue, justice, fairness, doing your duty etc, you may never see the rewards of your good actions, so it may feel like a waste of time to keep being so principled but if you decide to just do whatever and disobey, you best believe Saturn will come through with that wrath. You have to keep being virtuous and morally upright even if you don't see yourself being "rewarded" for it. No one may recognise your goodness but keep being good anyway.
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Alexander Graham Bell, Venus in UBP in 2h, Saturn in Shatabhisha in 1h
He is the guy who invented the telephone but he was also a very controversial deaf educator in his time.
Bell's father was a teacher of the deaf. His method of teaching the deaf was coined "Visible Speech." Bell's mother was deaf/hearing impaired and he would often speak to her by placing his mouth close to her forehead, believing the vibrations from his voice would help her distinguish speech more clearly.
Although he married a deaf woman, a former speech pupil, Mabel Hubbard, Bell strongly opposed intermarriage among congenitally deaf people. Bell feared "contamination" of the human race by the propagation of deaf people even though most deaf people statistically are born to hearing parents.
Bell applied his study of eugenics to his goal of preventing the creation of a deaf race and presented his paper Memoir Upon the Formation of a Deaf Variety of the Human Race to the National Academy of Sciences in 1883.4
Bell stated, "Those who believe as I do, that the production of a defective race of human beings would be a great calamity to the world, will examine carefully the causes that will lead to the intermarriage of the deaf with the object of applying a remedy."
In this paper, he proposed to reduce the number of the deaf by discouraging deaf-mute to deaf-mute marriages, advocating speech reading and articulation training for an oral-only method of education, removing the use of deaf teachers and sign language from the classroom.
Suggestions were made to enact legislation to prevent the intermarriage of deaf-mute people or forbidding marriage between families that have more than one deaf-mute member. His preventative strategies for deaf marriage included removing barriers to communication and interaction with the hearing world.
I feel like Saturnians often have a tendency to subconsciously make things harder for themselves and for others. Getting things easy is not Saturn's style. And this can manifest in sooooo many different ways. Bell grew up with a father who taught deaf people/children, his mother was deaf, he married a deaf woman YET he believed that they did not deserve to have separate schools that used communication tools specifically designed for them to make their lives easier. He spent his entire life working with deaf people but still somehow did not want things to be easier for them???
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Steve Jobs, UBP moon
He had a pretty stellar reputation for being a major asshole. He was an extremely difficult person to work with and often terrorised his employees and was a toxic vile asshole to the women he dated.
Jobs was given up for adoption by his parents and later in life, he abandoned his girlfriend and baby after he got her pregnant.
His daughter Lisa later said that her mother felt uncomfortable leaving her with Steve alone after an incident in which he questioned and teased the then-nine-year-old Brennan-Jobs about her sexual attractions and proclivities.
Once, as Jobs groped his wife and pretended to be having sex with her, he demanded that Lisa stay in the room, calling it a "family moment."
It is well known that Steve Jobs was really good at conceptualizing things and coming up with ideas (touch screen phones, macbooks, iMacs etc) but he lacked the technical expertise to build anything. His partner, Steve Wozniak was the actual brains behind all of the creations to put it simply.
Early in his career, Jobs worked for the game developing company Atari who promised him a bonus of $5000 for developing a game called Breakout. Jobs did not have the know-how to execute this, so he made his friend Wozniak who worked at a different company stay up all night for 4 nights to design this whole ass game. He gave him $350 for it and told him he was giving him half of what the company paid him. Wozniak only found out much later that Steve basically stole his ideas, used him AND gave him a paltry sum as compensation.
Before Apple went public, Jobs refused to give any major shares to the many many developers and engineers who played a crucial role in pioneering the company. Wozniak gave those employees HIS shares so that they could make a profit when the company went public.
I'm not going to detail all the ways he tormented his employees and staff. You can google it.
Eventually, Saturn's karma started kicking in and Jobs was fired from the company he founded and for 10 years, he had to stay away from Apple. This experience humbled him a bit.
Apple really suffered in his absence and they brough him back in 1997 and we all know the kind of groundbreaking work he did in the next decade there. (hint: iphones, ipods etc)
In 2011, he found out he had terminal pancreatic cancer and resigned from his position and died 6 weeks later.
He refused to get surgery and chemo and chose "alternate treatments" until his disease had progressed so far that, there was no saving him.
He would eat a single thing and only that for weeks. Like apples. He'd eat only apples for three weeks. He was convinced that made him superior to everyone else and that it made him have no body odour, so he never showered either. This made it really hard for others to be around him.
Now back to his daughter, he was incredibly abusive to Lisa. She said she was forced to move home over 13 times before age seven as her mother struggled to pay the bills through a series of cleaning positions, while Jobs, then already a multi-millionaire, refused to help.
During one visit she innocently asked if she could be given his Porsche after learning the flashy vehicle had a scratch and needed to be replaced. His scowling response shocked Lisa, then aged seven.
“‘Absolutely not,’ he said in such a sour, biting way that I knew I’d made a mistake,” she remembers. “I understood that perhaps it wasn't true, the myth of the scratch: maybe he didn’t buy new ones. By that time I knew he was not generous with money, or food, or words; the idea of the Porsches had seemed like one glorious exception. I wished I could take it back. We pulled up to the house and he turned off the engine. Before I made a move to get out he turned to face me.
“‘You’re not getting anything,’” he said. “‘You understand? Nothing. You’re getting nothing.’ Did he mean about the car, something else, bigger? I didn’t know. His voice hurt—sharp, in my chest.” (an excerpt from her memoir 'Small Fry')
Saturn may delay punishment but it will punish and whether or not you learn from it, is up to you. Some individuals are not very malleable and they suffer the most. They make the same mistake over and over again and never learn. Steve died of any entirely preventable disease but he refused treatment. He was in excruciating pain towards his end and was completely bedridden. He expressed regret about not having gotten treatment sooner but :/
It's really scary how your karma catches up with you. Its the worst when it comes for you and leaves you with no time to remedy anything, so you just suffer agony knowing there is nothing you can do.
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Woody Allen- Anuradha stellium (Sun, Mercury & Jupiter)
He molested his step daughter Dylan Farrow and is currently married to his former step daughter from the same marriage Soon Yi.
There has been a lot of misinformation regarding him molesting Dylan as a child even though the fact that he is literally married to one of his stepdaughters should be reason enough to suspect him
 Allen had been in therapy for alleged inappropriate behavior toward Dylan with a child psychologist before the abuse allegation was presented to the authorities or made public. Mia Farrow had instructed her babysitters that Allen was never to be left alone with Dylan.
 Allen refused to take a polygraph administered by the Connecticut state police. Instead, he took one from someone hired by his legal team. The Connecticut state police refused to accept the test as evidence. The state attorney, Frank Maco, says that Mia was never asked to take a lie-detector test during the investigation.
(Here is a link to the full article)
But again, Saturn's karmic lessons come through. Numerous actors have refused to work with Allen, he has been publicly condemned, lost all his reputation during #MeToo Actors such as Greta Gerwig, Colin Firth, and Mira Sorvino have recently apologized for accepting roles in Allen’s films, while many of his most avid fans have turned against him.
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Johnny Cash, Rahu in UBP in 1h
Johnny was a drug addict and very abusive to his first wife. He creepily pursued June Carter while he was still married and despite her rejecting him MANY times, he did not give up. She was in a financially unfortunate position and he gave her the opportunity of touring with him, which she had to take up to make ends meet and finally in front of a live audience, he proposes marriage to her and basically forces her to say yes.
They remained married for 50 years and died within a year of each other so idk if they had a happy marriage or a troubled one but the Saturnian persistence was coming thru.
Cash's whole life is super Saturnian. His career came to a standstill in the 70s after a stellar decade long run in the 1960s, all throughout which he was abusing drugs.
In the early 1980s, Cash had eye surgery, broke several ribs, and damaged a kneecap, all on separate occasions, and again became addicted to pills. He was hospitalized in 1983 with internal bleeding that almost killed him. Upon regaining strength, he checked into the Betty Ford Clinic and remained clean until his death.
In 1994, after a looooong period of zero hits and chart play. He collabed with Rick Rubin (the GOAT) and then released a number of successful albums until he passed away in 2003 and from 1997 onwards he had been struggling with autonomic neuropathy and was frequently hospitalized.
Its interesting to me how between 1954 to 1973, Cash was undergoing his Saturn mahadasha and this period brought him enormous success and also made him completely addicted to substances. In 1965, he started a forest fire that burned off 500 acres of forest land and killed 49 of the refuge's 53 endangered condors. When confronted about it, he said "I don't care about your damn yellow buzzards".
From 1973-1990, he was undergoing his Mercury dasha, and this was a very low period in his career as he suffered major setbacks.
As he's sobering up at the Carter's family ranch, he's walking along a path. One of their ostriches is standing in the path. Well Cash thinks to himself "Hell if I'm moving" and tries to move it, so the bird starts trying to headbutt/peck at him, so he swings a punch at the bird, it responds by splitting his goddamn abdomen open with it's talon, from top to bottom. (he said the only thing that stopped the talon was it got stuck on his leather belt and couldn't go further). So he's laying on the ground, and grabs a branch (or an old fence post, can't remember) and starts beating it from the ground until it runs away.
Its interesting how his major highs in life were during his Saturn MD (He has Saturn in Uttarashada in 11h) and his biggest blows came during his Mercury MD (he does have Mercury in Shatabhisha in 12h 😬).
Mercury is not an inherently difficult dasha the way Saturn is. But what we sow, we shall reap. Saturn gives you 19 years to get your shit together and if you don't really learn during this period, it gets on your ass long after that. Jennie from Blackpink ended her Saturn MD in 2019 and some of her career's biggest moments have come since then but so have the controversies (she's currently in her Mercury MD) and it's as though the lingering after effects of the Saturn dasha really dictates how we experience our Mercury dasha.
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Winston Churchill, Anuradha Sun
In 1943 in Bengal, over 3 million people died due to starvation and Churchill was directly responsible for this.
Churchill deliberately ordered the diversion of food from starving Indian civilians to well-supplied British soldiers and even to top up European stockpiles, meant for yet-to-be-liberated Greeks and Yugoslavs (all of this happened during WW2 for context)
He basically said, this is none of my business. Even though millions of Indian soldiers fought for the British during WW2 and were British subjects until India gained independence in 1947. Also btw India was the biggest contributor to the Empire's GDP. they looted and plundered us and left us to starve, basically.
In the book, Churchill’s Secret War: The British Empire and the Ravaging of India during World War II, written by Madhusree Mukerjee, Churchill was quoted as blaming the famine on the fact Indians were “breeding like rabbits”, and asking how, if the shortages were so bad, Mahatma Gandhi was still alive. 😡🤬😠he was a racist imperialist pig to say the least.
Some people are Churchill defenders and genuinely believe that the Bengal famine was a necessary sacrifice to win the war, and that those who critiqued him were unfair and had little insight about WWII. Aka: the colonized are expendable in a war between essentially imperialist, genocidal and fascist states. And they can kiss my ass.
To Indians, Churchill is a Hitler-like figure and rightfully so.
"I do not agree that the dog in a manger has the final right to the manger even though he may have lain there for a very long time. I do not admit that right. I do not admit for instance, that a great wrong has been done to the Red Indians of America or the black people of Australia. I do not admit that a wrong has been done to these people by the fact that a stronger race, a higher-grade race, a more worldly wise race to put it that way, has come in and taken their place."
Winston Churchill to Peel commission in 1937. 
Here is a thread that elaborates the many fcked up things he did.
When I talk about how cruel, brutal and callous Saturnian men can be, this is what I mean. Saturn restricts, limits and binds. This can easily mean Saturnians subject themselves and others to unnecessary rules, restrictions and limits.
Steve Jobs thought he was superior to others bc he only ate one type of food for weeks and months. Just because someone has discipline, does not automatically mean its good to have it. Free range parents can suck because they dont protect you or shelter you but disciplinarian parents also suck. Both Jupiter and Saturn struggle to learn "balance".
An unevolved Saturnian will be stingy af, very partial, biased and ill mannered. They act like cave men.
Churchill struggled with his mental health his whole life. He referred to it his “black dog:” fits of melancholia that followed Churchill throughout his life and often left him bedridden, suicidal and unshakably depressed for months at a time. It may sound cruel to say poor mental health is "karma" for his actions. (He also suffered 7 strokes and the final one, killed him). But the ways in which we are punished are often not materially obvious??? We may see terrible people thrive but often they are really suffering on the inside. Saturn often punishes by depriving you of peace of mind :/
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Thomas Alva Edison, Anuradha Rising
In 1884, Nikola Tesla moved to New York City to meet Edison, who was famous for his low-voltage, direct-current electricity. Tesla believed the higher-voltage alternating current electricity was superior and suggested creating an AC-powered motor, but Edison claimed it was too dangerous. Instead, Edison promised the recent immigrant $50,000 (over $1 million today) if he could improve upon his DC generators, or “dynamos.”
After toiling for several months and making significant advances, he returned for his reward, only for Edison to say, “When you become a full-fledged American, you will appreciate an American joke.” Tesla quit—but the bullying didn’t stop there.
George Westinghouse had purchased Tesla’s patents and became the pioneering force behind AC power and its widespread implementation. Edison, who was ideologically and financially invested in his own DC power, began a publicity campaign against AC power. The campaign was ruthless; he wanted to prove that the high voltage of AC power was too dangerous for public use, so he and his cohorts began publicly electrocuting animals—stray dogs and cats, cattle and horses, and even, notoriously, “Topsy” the elephant. (you can hate me for pointing out how unevolved Saturnians abuse animals all you want but it will not stop it from being true<333)
The story gets worse. Edison was asked whether electrocution was a humane method of execution. In reply, he claimed that with Westinghouse’s AC power, it was indeed a humane and reliable execution. Westinghouse of course tried to prevent such an association, but Harold Brown, one of Edison’s employees, was hired by the state of New York to build the first electric chair. Obviously, he used AC power.
The execution—the first use of the electric chair—took place on August 6, 1890. AC power proved neither reliable nor humane. The first, 17-second-long charge failed to kill the man, an alleged axe murderer; after waiting for the generator to recharge and amping up the voltage, the next charge at last brought an end to the horrible, 8-minute long ordeal. Westinghouse, disgusted, reportedly said, “They would have done better with an axe.”
For his last two years, a series of ailments caused his health to decline even more until he lapsed into a coma and died at the age of 84.
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Bo Burnham, Venus/Jupiter/Ketu in Pushya and Anuradha Rising
He does have a reputation for being a dick but I wanted to mention him because I think his sense of humour is VERY Saturnian. He has this tendency to humble his audience and its super Saturncoded to me. Like his whole shtick is serving you with a reality check in a slightly condescending way which is extremely Saturnian.
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He often makes "ironically" misogynistic jokes or whatever and its laced with that Saturnian bitterness except he's slightly self aware I guess.
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Aziz Ansari, Venus & Mars in UBP and Jupiter in Anuradha
Tbh other than the fact that his stand up comedy routines are hella lame, I dont really have much dirt on him.
However, he did sexually assault a woman in 2018 and nobody has heard much from him since tbh. I guess its an example of "instant karma".
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Mads Mikkelsen, Anuradha Sun conjunct Ketu
Mads aka the man who made a career out of playing the bad guy
This isn't about Mads but about his most well known role, playing Hannibal Lecter.
Hannibal imo is very very Saturncoded
 He is highly intelligent and cultured, with refined tastes and impeccable manners. He is deeply offended by rudeness, and often kills people who exhibit bad manners; according to the novel Hannibal, he "prefers to eat the rude". Hopkins described Lecter as the "Robin Hood of killers", who kills "the terminally rude".
Saturnians are either extremely refined or very unkempt. There is no in-between. You can always tell when someone has an imbalanced Saturn influence based on how disorderly, messy and chaotic they are.
In the novel Red Dragon, the protagonist, Will Graham, says that psychologists refer to Lecter as a sociopath "because they don't know what else to call him". Graham says "he has no remorse or guilt at all", and tortured animals as a child, (👀) but he does not exhibit any of the other criteria traditionally associated with sociopathy. Asked how he himself would describe Lecter, Graham responded, "he's a monster. I think of him as one of those pitiful things that are born in hospitals from time to time. They feed it, and keep it warm, but they don't put it on the machines and it dies. Lecter is the same way in his head, but he looks normal and nobody could tell."
Hannibal embodies the disciplined, orderly conduct of an evolved Saturnian along with the cruelty and harshness of it.
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Charlie Puth, Anuradha Sun & Mars
half of this guy's discography is about how he hates women from LA. He literally has one song called "Nothing But Trouble (Instagram Models)" and it's just about how instagram models make problems. He has another song called "L.A. Girls" about how women in LA are fungible. It's like yeah maybe instagram models do suck but no one made you date them??? 
These are lyrics from the song LA Girls:
"There was Nikki, Nicole, Tiffany, and Heather But there's only room for you in my world But you say that I changed like the east coast weather How the hell did I get caught up? Messin' with these LA girls"
When I tell you the Madonna-Whore complex runs DEEP with Saturnian men. They will fool around with you and think of YOU as "cheap" for doing so and fall for the girl who never gives it up. The double standards of Saturnians are 🤮🤢
They will get frisky and frivolous with you and judge you for it :/
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Woody Harrelson, Pushya Sun, Anuradha Moon
When I think of unkempt Saturnians, I think Woody Harrelson lmao
While filming in London in 2002, Harrelson found himself at a bar when two women approached him. According to the actor, the women asked if he wanted to "take a walk on the wild side." To which Harrelson replied, "I guess I do." A third woman joined in the fun, and the foursome returned to Harrelson's accommodations and enjoyed what the outlet described as "whatever-happened-next." Unfortunately for the Rampart star, "a paparazzo was able to snap a photo that soon hit the tabloids." The worst part — his then-girlfriend and future-wife Laura Louie saw these photos in the press. This "led to a good bit of groveling on Harrelson's part," and the couple worked past the incident.
I think I have noticed about manyyyy Saturnian men is that they often have enabler wives who put up with their shit + encourage it. Steve Jobs' wife, Laurene Powell was like that. Steve was such a perfectionist that he did not even buy furniture for their house and yk what?? she was okay with that lol and they remained married until his death even though literally everybody who has ever known him describes him as an asshole.
Woody Allen's still married to Soon Yi who is also entirely defensive about him. Same goes for Harrelson's wife I guess. How on earth does someone work past a foursome??? wtf
"I used to go to bars and fight the guys I thought were bullies. I've got scars everywhere," he revealed to The Hollywood Reporter. His fighting ways continued even after becoming a famous actor. Like when he once punched a reporter and claimed he thought the photographer was a zombie. 
Saturnians never beating the abusive rumours 😩
On a different note, I've noticed how many Saturnian musicians make sad boy music with a ✨spiritual essence ✨
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Sufjan Stevens is a UBP Moon
This is from a 2015 interview:
"I still describe myself as a Christian, and my love of God and my relationship with God is fundamental, but its manifestations in my life and the practices of it are constantly changing. I find incredible freedom in my faith. Yes, the kingdom of Christianity and the Church has been one of the most destructive forces in history, and there are levels of bastardization of religious beliefs. But the unique thing about Christianity is that it is so amorphous and not reductive to culture or place or anything. It's extremely malleable."
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Tamino, UBP Moon
He said in an interview:
"We like to look at religious texts from all over the world, [and] they always share a lot of similarities. That's not because they necessarily influenced each other, it's more that our inherent experience as humans comes out through storytelling. It's awesome. So that's something that's really interesting: the story that we need to tell. And the stories that we tell will always survive longest. I think it sort of gives them a higher truth, a metaphysical truth, which makes religion quite beautiful to me. You don't have to necessarily believe in every little thing that's described in a book. I'm not a practicing believer—not in the classical sense. But I do have faith. I think a lot of people have faith without realizing [it]. Even waking up and starting your day, we all have like these little acts of fate throughout our lives without even noticing."
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Hozier- Anuradha Moon
Faith is a big theme in their work and their lives and I feel like they are some evolved Saturnian men who have embraced the stoic spirituality of Saturn and poured it into their creativity.
In one interview, Hozier described Quakerism as a doctrine which taught him during childhood “to look for the God in each person” and “the spark of the divine that’s in every individual.” In particular, Hozier seeks this spark in his lover.
Its interesting to me how all 3 of them use religious metaphors often to speak of love because the ultimate form of love is devotion and Saturnians who have transcended the grips of limitations imposed by Saturn understand this more than anybody. They know what its like to love like their life depends on it.
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Arnold Schwarzenegger, Pushya Sun
Many Saturnians love to talk about working hard and kicking ass. Arnold is one of them, although I will say his preachiness comes from his Punarvasu stellium lmao
Arnold is a good example of a man who has worked very very hard and abided by every Saturnian principle to climb the ladder to the top. Yet he cheated on his wife with his housekeeper. He however did not deny paternity of the son he fathered with her. He has also expressed his regret about cheating and how he lost his marriage.
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Kim Kardashian, UBP Moon
She came under fire for her comments about "get your ass up and do the work" but honestly it's just Saturnian tough love
Kim is a good example of someone who has turned every single setback into a career opportunity. She is a true hustler. Obviously she's extremely privileged yada yada yada but she was Paris Hilton's assistant at one point and was at the bottom of the ladder. In 20 years she's built a fortune for herself and her family. Like, if it were Kourtney in Kim's place 🤡they wouldn't be where they are rn. Kim is a worker and its hard to deny that.
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Rose- UBP Moon
In her interview with Vogue Australia, she said:
“I ended up fighting for my life, training for my life. Because I couldn’t accept the fact that I’d just be cut and sent back, so I had no time to slack off. I remember I took every minute and every second to work on my craft so that I [could] make it,” 
“When I got [to Korea], I was like, ‘This is quite intense,’” she said of the early period of training. “I notice[d] that there [were] 12 other girls who had been training day and night for about five years. And I had just gotten there.” She feared that if she didn’t catch up to the other she would be cut and sent back to Australia, where she’d already told her school friends that she was dropping out to work on her music. "
“I [had] left and I didn’t want to fly back [to Australia] without having achieved anything,” she said of her worry at the time. “And I think it was a good drive. Just the fact that I had flown all the way from Australia gave me more strength [and] determination to strive.”
Hardworking Saturnians ✊🏼🙏🏼🧎‍♀️making the most of that Saturnian determination and reaping its rewards OOF
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