#if there is one thing about me. it is that i love to make fairytale aus that rapdily spiral out of control and away from the og fairytale.
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dunmeshistash · 2 hours ago
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Do you have any other Ryoko Kui Oneshot recommendations? I just read the last ones you mentioned and i absolutely loved them
Honestly! I recommend all 3 of her published one shot compilations, they are all REALLY GOOD
You can read about each of them on this post, the text is from the english pamphlet of the Ryoko Kui Exhibition
A few that really stuck with me other the ones I've already mentioned here (wolves tell no lies, perfect communication and how to be that girl) were these (the order is just the order I remembered them)
The Dragon's School is on Top of the Mountain: The titular story of one of her published works, it makes me think about a few parts of Dungeon Meshi where Laios is trying to find an "use" for monsters in the surface. I really enjoyed the idea of trying to make dragons "useful" so they can continue to exist, it's very bittersweet.
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Home: From the same collection as the previous one, it's about what happens to The Hero of the story after he has defeated the big evil, in the perspective of the simple villagers from his hometown. Makes my heart ache. Other stories in this collection have a similar theme of "story after the story" what might have happened after the conclusion of an adventure but this is the one that stuck to me the most
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Spring and Autumn: Two oneshots from terrarium in drawer that tell the same story in different perspectives. Quite possibly the best "what if humans were pets" story I've ever seen (I've seen at least 2). I cried so hard, I'm crying right now 10/10 don't let the premise scare you off
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Distant Utopia: Terrarium in drawer is AMAZING but here just one more to maybe convince everyone to read, children are tasked with creating a story about "bullying persecution and discrimination", end up realizing things aren't so simple as they first thought
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A Modern Fairytale: Ok dragon school might be my favorite one shot collection. This one is about a fantasy creature (centaurs) living in modern times, and the struggles that might cause in society alongside humans. It's a really interesting and grounded take that I don't think I've even seen before (Plus the centaur wife that shows up in short sections is adorable)
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That's it for my favorites! I really recommend everything by Kui tho, I had to stop myself before I just listed all the oneshots
Btw you can buy Seven Little Sons of the Dragon in english
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wukyma · 1 day ago
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I'm very curious about your Posepoli AU if you are OK with sharing facts about it ? Maybe what you have in mind? Or what Poseidon have in mind withvhis proposition 🤔 I can't only imagine the crew reaction
Also I'm in absolute love with your art ! The way you color? Your Odysseus ? Incredible. Make me think about fairy tales book illustrations you know ? And don't let go on your design of Poseidon ? He look so cold and distanced, it's actually genius!
Oh, thank you so much 💖 It means a lot! I loved illustrated fairytales as a kid and had a similar book of Greek myths, so that's probably where the style comes from, hehe
As for the AU... I lied shamelessly in the other post and speedran through coloring the panels and imma show y'all everything today!
If you haven't seen the previous one go check it out first
SO, Polites lives. But now he has to cope with the consequences of their recklessness,,
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⬇️⬇️⬇️ cut because yapping again
The wind bag gets opened, and they're faced with Poseidon seeking revenge,,
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Odysseus' apology isn't accepted (who even apologizes like that??), but Poseidon doesn't get to strike him —
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Polites steps in and asks for them to be spared.
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The god almost laughs in his face because that's an utterly ridiculous attempt, but decides that there's no harm in amusing himself a bit. Yet, no matter what Poseidon thinks about the man and how much he despises his ideals,, Polites is very different from most mortals he met, with his unshakeable belief in a better world (that realization happens much later in the plot, at the moment he's just pissed off)
So, yeah. Poseidon gives them a challenge: if they find another way around the storm, continue their journey without harming or killing (as per Poli's ideology), and get home, he will spare everyone, even Odysseus. The one who's formally "responsible" for holding up their end of the deal is still Polites, and he gets a kind of seal/tattoo as proof that neither side will go against the terms (yay ✨️aesthetics ✨️)
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Forgot to mention: the whole crew is alive — 600 men making their way to Ithaca!
Next stop would be Circe's island,,, guess who will become besties? Ehehwhe
Things I believe are important to mention:
Poseidon REALLY doesn't like Polites in this AU (well,, for now) and wants to see him fail, then drown the fleet and be done with it
His main motivation here wouldn't be to avenge Polyphemus, but to prove that Polites is wrong (same as with Odysseus, but more intense)
Get ready for tons of mockery in the next part ( ;∀;)
I headcanon (not just in this AU but in general) that Polites, Perimedes, and Elpenor are also very close friends!
Odysseus is oblivious about Poli's feelings towards him (dude is mole-blind when it comes to that), but Eurylochus knows
Umm, so that's it for now! See y'all next time, because telling things without throwing pictures in seems meh... However, that's up to you, too. I can continue as it is and draw the scenes you'd like to see and/or choose later :3 Just write how u think would be more okayish i guess??
Bonus thing: congrats on reading till the end lol. there is one inconsistency in the comic above. at the sketch stage I flipped 3 of these panels, and they don't match with the other ones (seen in the details) first one to guess (say the nr order, idc) gets to request ANYTHING epic‐related from me :D
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starrlikesbooks · 2 days ago
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Behold! The books I'm most excited to get to read in 2025!
Check for links and details under the cut!
Adrift in Currents Clean and Clear by Seanan McGuire is the newest Wayward Children book! This one takes place in a Drowned World, with giant turtles.
I Am Made of Death by Kelly Andrews is a horror romance starring the signing interpreter of a selective mute who is also an heiress! I loved Andrews' last book, which hd lush folk horror vibes, and this one has a gorgeous cover and involves curses and a spiritual exorcism, so I'm IN.
Love Points to You by Alice Lin is about someone making a dating sim! And the MC being hired as character designer. This is an Asian-led sapphic romance, and as a dating sim fan, I'm super pumped.
They Bloom at Night by Trang Thanh Tran is a horror novel full of mutated monsters, and a cult-ish submerged town where the MC and her mother are stuck, where the people believe their dead family have reincarnated as sea monsters. The summary also heavily implies the MC has monstrous qualities.
What Wakes the Bells by Elle Tesch involves malevolent souls trapped in bells and fighting gargoyles! This sounds like an exciting fantasy world with a really fun adventure.
I Am the Swarm by Hayley Chewins is a trauma-centric horror with a magical bloodline and the power/curse of summoning insects. This one really leans into female rage, and I'm really interested in the magic.
Holy Terrors by Margaret Owen is the third (and I think final!) book in the Little Thieves series! Fairytale-retelling fantasy with a snarky, morally gray, damaged MC (whom I love)
Roll for Love by M.K. England is one of my favorite kinds of books coming out lately- a D&D based romance! This one involves a new campaign & roleplaying group after a big move, and a no-dating rule giving some tension.
The Summer I Ate the Rich by Maika Moulite & Maritza Moulite is Haitian-American Hannibal story! It's also a zombie story.
The Floating World by Axie Oh was pitched as an amnesiac sword-for-hire teaming up with a theatre troupe performer with mysterious powers, and I don't need to know any more than that!
Don't Let Me Go by Kevin Christopher Snipes is Snipes' second book- and I was absolutely gut punched by the queer tenderness and mental revelations of his first book. This one will also break me, as it's about two boys trapped in a reincarnation cycle.
And They Were Roommates by Page Powars should need no further explanation than the title!! But in case it's not- this is an MLM story of a stealth trans boy coming to a new school, where- unbeknownst to the roommate- he's roomed with his former, pre-transition fling.
Nobody in Particular by Sophie Gonzales is a royalty romance at a boarding school, and it's sapphic! This has a disgraced princess falling for the new girl pianist 😍 As a big believer in Gonzales, I am lined up.
The Listeners by Maggie Stiefvater is not my normal kind of read! This is historical fiction, taking place at a hotel/spa in the 1940s- but Stiefvater wrote one of my favorite series, The Rave Boys (and The Dreamer Trilogy!), and she'd super excited about it, so I'm just looking forward to seeing her spectacular writing coming at a new angle.
Love Misha by Jam Aden has been on my list for a LONG TIME. Why? Because it's promoted as A Goofy Movie meets Spirited Away with a nonbinary main character. SAY NO MORE.
If We Survive This by Racquel Marie is a apoclaypse survival horror. Lesbian zombie stories are surprisingly not that hard t find right now, but I'm definitely interested in seeing more of them!
Predatory Natures by Amy Goldsmith has one of my favorite things- TRAIN SETTINGS. The MC is working on a luxury train during her gap year, but the trip is derailed by the arrival of a mysterious greenhouse and a pair of odd, enigmatic siblings. This is fantasy horror.
Evil-ish by Kennedy Tarrell is about disillusioned teen trying to become a supervillain. I love supervillain fiction, and this one sounds really fun and with surprising characters!
Villain by Natalie Zina Walschots is the very longwaited (for me, at least) sequel to the wonderful villain-led, radicalization story Hench. I'm so looking forward to seeing Anna as a full supervillain!
Mistress of Bones by Maria Z. Medina stars a necromancer trying to resurrect her sister, and getting caught in a game of cat and mouse with the Emissary of Death. This one sounds really magical.
Hollow by Taylor Grothe is YA horror with an autistic (and trying to deny her diagnosis) teen in Upstate New York. I, personally, seeing book in Upstate NY and love autism rep, and this is queer!
The Cuffing Game by Lyla Lee has one of my favorite fluffy queer romanc writers tacking reality show romance by the way of Pride & Prejudice! There's also (no surprise) going to be K-drama vibes.
For No Mortal Man by Keshe Chow stars a girl who can resurrect herself, traveling the Underworld to find her grandmother, and being haunted by a former betrayer.
We Were Never Here by Sophie Hannan is a heist story! This is about ghost hunters being blackmailed to do a heist, stealing a haunted painting. I love weird heists, I really do.
You Weren't Meant to Be Human by Andrew Joseph White is probably my most anticipated release of 2025! I love AJW's autistic, trans horror, and this one has aliens and pregnancy horror. I see no way this won't be weird as hell, and therefore no way this isn't gonna be amazing.
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queenlucythevaliant · 11 months ago
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Tell Your Dad You Love Him
A retelling of "Meat Loves Salt"/"Cap O'Rushes" for the @inklings-challenge Four Loves event
An old king had three daughters. When his health began to fail, he summoned them, and they came.
Gordonia and Rowan were already waiting in the hallway when Coriander arrived. They were leaned up against the wall opposite the king’s office with an air of affected casualness. “I wonder what the old war horse wants today?” Rowan was saying. “More about next year’s political appointments, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“The older he gets, the more he micromanages,” Gordonia groused fondly. “A thousand dollars says this meeting could’ve been an email.”
They filed in single-file like they’d so often done as children: Gordonia first, then Rowan, and Coriander last of all. The king had placed three chairs in front of his desk all in a row. His daughters murmured their greetings, and one by one they sat down. 
“I have divided everything I have in three,” the king said. “I am old now, and it’s time. Today, I will pass my kingdom on to you, my daughters.”
A short gasp came from Gordonia. None of them could have imagined that their father would give up running his kingdom while he still lived. 
The king went on. “I know you will deal wisely with that which I leave in your care. But before we begin, I have one request.”
“Yes father?” said Rowan.
“Tell me how much you love me.”
An awkward silence fell. Although there was no shortage of love between the king and his daughters, theirs was not a family which spoke of such things. They were rich and blue-blooded: a soldier and the daughters of a soldier, a king and his three court-reared princesses. The royal family had always shown their affection through double meanings and hot cups of coffee.
Gordonia recovered herself first. She leaned forward over the desk and clasped her father’s hands in her own. “Father,” she said, “I love you more than I can say.” A pause. “I don’t think there’s ever been a family so happy in love as we have been. You’re a good dad.”
The old king smiled and patted her hand. “Thank you, Gordonia. We have been very happy, haven’t we? Here is your inheritance. Cherish it, as I cherish you.”
Rowan spoke next; the words came tumbling out.  “Father! There’s not a thing in my life which you didn’t give me, and all the joy in the world beside. Come now, Gordonia, there’s no need to understate the matter. I love you more than—why, more than life itself!”
The king laughed, and rose to embrace his second daughter. “How you delight me, Rowan. All of this will be yours.”
Only Coriander remained. As her sisters had spoken, she’d wrung her hands in her lap, unsure of what to say. Did her father really mean for flattery to be the price of her inheritance? That just wasn’t like him. For all that he was a politician, he’d been a soldier first. He liked it when people told the truth.
When the king’s eyes came to rest on her, Coriander raised her own to meet them. “Do you really want to hear what you already know?” 
“I do.”
She searched for a metaphor that could carry the weight of her love without unnecessary adornment. At last she found one, and nodded, satisfied. “Dad, you’re like—like salt in my food.”
“Like salt?”
“Well—yes.”
The king’s broad shoulders seemed to droop. For a moment, Coriander almost took back her words. Her father was the strongest man in the world, even now, at eighty. She’d watched him argue with foreign rulers and wage wars all her life. Nothing could hurt him. Could he really be upset? 
But no. Coriander held her father’s gaze. She had spoken true. What harm could be in that?
“I don’t know why you’re even here, Cor,” her father said.
Now, Coriander shifted slightly in her seat, unnerved. “What? Father—”
“It would be best if—you should go,” said the old king.
“Father, you can’t really mean–”
“Leave us, Coriander.”
So she left the king’s court that very hour.
 .
It had been a long time since she’d gone anywhere without a chauffeur to drive her, but Coriander’s thoughts were flying apart too fast for her to be afraid. She didn’t know where she would go, but she would make do, and maybe someday her father would puzzle out her metaphor and call her home to him. Coriander had to hope for that, at least. The loss of her inheritance didn’t feel real yet, but her father—how could he not know that she loved him? She’d said it every day.
She’d played in the hall outside that same office as a child. She’d told him her secrets and her fears and sent him pictures on random Tuesdays when they were in different cities just because. She had watched him triumph in conference rooms and on the battlefield and she’d wanted so badly to be like him. 
If her father doubted her love, then maybe he’d never noticed any of it. Maybe the love had been an unnoticed phantasm, a shadow, a song sung to a deaf man. Maybe all that love had been nothing at all.  
A storm was on the horizon, and it reached her just as she made it onto the highway. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled. Rain poured down and flooded the road. Before long, Coriander was hydroplaning. Frantically, she tried to remember what you were supposed to do when that happened. Pump the brakes? She tried. No use. Wasn’t there something different you did if the car had antilock brakes? Or was that for snow? What else, what else–
With a sickening crunch, her car hit the guardrail. No matter. Coriander’s thoughts were all frenzied and distant. She climbed out of the car and just started walking.
Coriander wandered beneath an angry sky on the great white plains of her father’s kingdom. The rain beat down hard, and within seconds she was soaked to the skin. The storm buffeted her long hair around her head. It tangled together into long, matted cords that hung limp down her back. Mud soiled her fine dress and splattered onto her face and hands. There was water in her lungs and it hurt to breathe. Oh, let me die here, Coriander thought. There’s nothing left for me, nothing at all. She kept walking.
 .
When she opened her eyes, Coriander found herself in a dank gray loft. She was lying on a strange feather mattress.
She remained there a while, looking up at the rafters and wondering where she could be. She thought and felt, as it seemed, through a heavy and impenetrable mist; she was aware only of hunger and weakness and a dreadful chill (though she was all wrapped in blankets). She knew that a long time must have passed since she was fully aware, though she had a confused memory of wandering beside the highway in a thunderstorm, slowly going mad because—because— oh, there’d been something terrible in her dreams. Her father, shoulders drooping at his desk, and her sisters happily come into their inheritance, and she cast into exile—
She shuddered and sat up dizzily. “Oh, mercy,” she murmured. She hadn���t been dreaming.
She stumbled out of the loft down a narrow flight of stairs and came into a strange little room with a single window and a few shabby chairs. Still clinging to the rail, she heard a ruckus from nearby and then footsteps. A plump woman came running to her from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and softly clucking at the state of her guest’s matted, tangled hair.
“Dear, dear,” said the woman. “Here’s my hand, if you’re still unsteady. That’s good, good. Don’t be afraid, child. I’m Katherine, and my husband is Folke. He found you collapsed by the goose-pond night before last. I’m she who dressed you—your fine gown was ruined, I’m afraid. Would you like some breakfast? There’s coffee on the counter, and we’ll have porridge in a minute if you’re patient.”
“Thank you,” Coriander rasped.
“Will you tell me your name, my dear?”
“I have no name. There’s nothing to tell.”
Katherine clicked her tongue. “That’s alright, no need to worry. Folke and I’ve been calling you Rush on account of your poor hair. I don’t know if you’ve seen yourself, but it looks a lot like river rushes. No, don’t get up. Here’s your breakfast, dear.”
There was indeed porridge, as Katherine had promised, served with cream and berries from the garden. Coriander ate hungrily and tasted very little. Then, when she was finished, the goodwife ushered her over to a sofa by the window and put a pillow beneath her head. Coriander thanked her, and promptly fell asleep.
 .
She woke again around noon, with the pounding in her head much subsided. She woke feeling herself again, to visions of her father inches away and the sound of his voice cracking across her name.
Katherine was outside in the garden; Coriander could see her through the clouded window above her. She rose and, upon finding herself still in a borrowed nightgown, wrapped herself in a blanket to venture outside.
“Feeling better?” Katherine was kneeling in a patch of lavender, but she half rose when she heard the cottage door open.
“Much. Thank you, ma’am.
“No thanks necessary. Folke and I are ministers, of a kind. We keep this cottage for lost and wandering souls. You’re free to remain here with us for as long as you need.”
“Oh,” was all Coriander could think to say. 
“You’ve been through a tempest, haven’t you? Are you well enough to tell me where you came from?”
Coriander shifted uncomfortably. “I’m from nowhere,” she said. “I have nothing.”
“You don’t owe me your story, child. I should like to hear it, but it will keep till you’re ready. Now, why don’t you put on some proper clothes and come help me with this weeding.”
 .
Coriander remained at the cottage with Katherine and her husband Folke for a week, then a fortnight. She slept in the loft and rose with the sun to help Folke herd the geese to the pond. After, Coriander would return and see what needed doing around the cottage. She liked helping Katherine in the garden.
The grass turned gold and the geese’s thick winter down began to come in. Coriander’s river-rush hair proved itself unsalvageable. She spent hours trying to untangle it, first with a hairbrush, then with a fine-tooth comb and a bottle of conditioner, and eventually even with honey and olive oil (a home remedy that Folke said his mother used to use). So, at last, Coriander surrendered to the inevitable and gave Katherine permission to cut it off. One night, by the yellow light of the bare bulb that hung over the kitchen table, Katherine draped a towel over Coriander’s shoulders and tufts of gold went falling to the floor all round her.
“I’m here because I failed at love,” she managed to tell the couple at last, when her sorrows began to feel more distant. “I loved my father, and he knew it not.”
Folke and Katherine still called her Rush. She didn’t correct them. Coriander was the name her parents gave her. It was the name her father had called her when she was six and racing down the stairs to meet him when he came home from Europe, and at ten when she showed him the new song she’d learned to play on the harp. She’d been Cor when she brought her first boyfriend home and Cori the first time she shadowed him at court. Coriander, Coriander, when she came home from college the first time and he’d hugged her with bruising strength. Her strong, powerful father.
As she seasoned a pot of soup for supper, she wondered if he understood yet what she’d meant when she called him salt in her food. 
 .
Coriander had been living with Katherine and Folke for two years, and it was a morning just like any other. She was in the kitchen brewing a pot of coffee when Folke tossed the newspaper on the table and started rummaging in the fridge for his orange juice. “Looks like the old king’s sick again,” he commented casually. Coriander froze.
She raced to the table and seized hold of the paper. There, above the fold, big black letters said, KING ADMITTED TO HOSPITAL FOR EMERGENCY TREATMENT. There was a picture of her father, looking older than she’d ever seen him. Her knees went wobbly and then suddenly the room was sideways.
Strong arms caught her and hauled her upright. “What’s wrong, Rush?”
“What if he dies,” she choked out. “What if he dies and I never got to tell him?”
She looked up into Folke’s puzzled face, and then the whole sorry story came tumbling out.
When she was through, Katherine (who had come downstairs sometime between salt and the storm) took hold of her hand and kissed it. “Bless you, dear,” she said. “I never would have guessed. Maybe it’s best that you’ve both had some time to think things over.”
Katherine shook her head. “But don’t you think…?”
“Yes?”
“Well, don’t you think he should have known that I loved him? I shouldn’t have needed to say it. He’s my father. He’s the king.”
Katherine replied briskly, as though the answer should have been obvious. “He’s only human, child, for all that he might wear a crown; he’s not omniscient. Why didn’t you tell your father what he wanted to hear?”
“I didn’t want to flatter him,” said Coriander. “That was all. I wanted to be right in what I said.”
The goodwife clucked softly. “Oh dear. Don’t you know that sometimes, it’s more important to be kind than to be right?”
.
In her leave-taking, Coriander tried to tell Katherine and Folke how grateful she was to them, but they wouldn’t let her. They bought her a bus ticket and sent her on her way towards King’s City with plenty of provisions. Two days later, Coriander stood on the back steps of one of the palace outbuildings with her little carpetbag clutched in her hands. 
Stuffing down the fear of being recognized, Coriander squared her shoulders and hoped they looked as strong as her father’s. She rapped on the door, and presently a maid came and opened it. The maid glanced Coriander up and down, but after a moment it was clear that her disguise held. With all her long hair shorn off, she must have looked like any other girl come in off the street.
“I’m here about a job,” said Coriander. “My name’s Rush.”
 .
The king's chambers were half-lit when Coriander brought him his supper, dressed in her servants’ apparel. He grunted when she knocked and gestured with a cane towards his bedside table. His hair was snow-white and he was sitting in bed with his work spread across a lap-desk. His motions were very slow.
Coriander wanted to cry, seeing her father like that. Yet somehow, she managed to school her face. Like he would, she kept telling herself. Stoically, she put down the supper tray, then stepped back out into the hallway. 
It was several minutes more before the king was ready to eat. Coriander heard papers being shuffled, probably filed in those same manilla folders her father had always used. In the hall, Coriander felt the seconds lengthen. She steeled herself for the moment she knew was coming, when the king would call out in irritation, “Girl! What's the matter with my food? Why hasn’t it got any taste?”
When that moment came, all would be made right. Coriander would go into the room and taste his food. “Why,” she would say, with a look of complete innocence, “It seems the kitchen forgot to salt it!” She imagined how her father’s face would change when he finally understood. My daughter always loved me, he would say. 
Soon, soon. It would happen soon. Any second now. 
The moment never came. Instead, the floor creaked, followed by the rough sound of a cane striking the floor. The door opened, and then the king was there, his mighty shoulders shaking. “Coriander,” he whispered. 
“Dad. You know me?”
“Of course.”
“Then you understand now?”
The king’s wrinkled brow knit. “Understand about the salt? Of course, I do. It wasn't such a clever riddle. There was surely no need to ruin my supper with a demonstration.”
Coriander gaped at him. She'd expected questions, explanations, maybe apologies for sending her away. She'd never imagined this.
She wanted very badly to seize her father and demand answers, but then she looked, really looked, at the way he was leaning on his cane. The king was barely upright; his white head was bent low. Her questions would hold until she'd helped her father back into his room. 
“If you knew what I meant–by saying you were like salt in my food– then why did you tell me to go?” she asked once they were situated back in the royal quarters. 
Idly, the king picked at his unseasoned food. “I shouldn’t have done that. Forgive me, Coriander. My anger and hurt got the better of me, and it has brought me much grief. I never expected you to stay away for so long.”
Coriander nodded slowly. Her father's words had always carried such fierce authority. She'd never thought to question if he really meant what he’d said to her. 
“As for the salt,” continued the king, "Is it so wrong that an old man should want to hear his daughters say ‘I love you' before he dies?” 
Coriander rolled the words around in her head, trying to make sense of them. Then, with a sudden mewling sound from her throat, she managed to say, “That's really all you wanted?”  
“That's all. I am old, Cor, and we've spoken too little of love in our house.” He took another bite of his unsalted supper. His hand shook. “That was my failing, I suppose. Perhaps if I’d said it, you girls would have thought to say it back.”
“But father!” gasped Coriander, “That’s not right. We've always known we loved one another! We've shown it a thousand ways. Why, I've spent the last year cataloging them in my head, and I've still not even scratched the surface!”
The king sighed. “Perhaps you will understand when your time comes. I knew, and yet I didn't. What can you really call a thing you’ve never named? How do you know it exists? Perhaps all the love I thought I knew was only a figment.”
“But that’s what I’ve been afraid of all this time,” Coriander bit back. “How could you doubt? If it was real at all– how could you doubt?”
The king’s weathered face grew still. His eyes fell shut and he squeezed them. “Death is close to me, child. A small measure of reassurance is not so very much to ask.”
.
Coriander slept in her old rooms that night. None of it had changed. When she woke the next morning, for a moment she remembered nothing of the last two years. 
She breakfasted in the garden with her father, who came down the steps in a chair-lift. “Coriander,” he murmured. “I half-thought I dreamed you last night.”
“I’m here, Dad,” she replied. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Slowly, the king reached out with one withered hand and caressed Coriander's cheek. Then, his fingers drifted up to what remained of her hair. He ruffled it, then gently tugged on a tuft the way he'd used to playfully tug her long braid when she was a girl. 
“I love you,” he said.
“That was always an I love you, wasn’t it?” replied Coriander. “My hair.”
The king nodded. “Yes, I think it was.”
So Coriander reached out and gently tugged the white hairs of his beard. “You too,” she whispered.
.
“Why salt?” The king was sitting by the fire in his rooms wrapped in two blankets. Coriander was with him, enduring the sweltering heat of the room without complaint. 
She frowned. “You like honesty. We have that in common. I was trying to be honest–accurate–to avoid false flattery.”
The king tugged at the outer blanket, saying nothing. His lips thinned and his eyes dropped to his lap. Coriander wished they wouldn’t. She wished they would hold to hers, steely and ready for combat as they always used to be.
“Would it really have been false?” the king said at last. “Was there no other honest way to say it? Only salt?”
Coriander wanted to deny it, to give speech to the depth and breadth of her love, but once again words failed her. “It was my fault,” she said. “I didn’t know how to heave my heart into my throat.” She still didn’t, for all she wanted to. 
.
When the doctor left, the king was almost too tired to talk. His words came slowly, slurred at the edges and disconnected, like drops of water from a leaky faucet. 
Still, Coriander could tell that he had something to say. She waited patiently as his lips and tongue struggled to form the words. “Love you… so… much… You… and… your sisters… Don’t… worry… if you… can’t…say…how…much. I… know.” 
It was all effort. The king sat back when he was finished. Something was still spasming in his throat, and Coriander wanted to cry.
“I’m glad you know,” she said. “I’m glad. But I still want to tell you.”
Love was effort. If her father wanted words, she would give him words. True words. Kind words. She would try… 
“I love you like salt in my food. You're desperately important to me, and you've always been there, and I don't know what I'll do without you. I don’t want to lose you. And I love you like the soil in a garden. Like rain in the spring. Like a hero. You have the strongest shoulders of anyone I know, and all I ever wanted was to be like you…”
A warm smile spread across the old king’s face. His eyes drifted shut.
#inklingschallenge#theme: storge#story: complete#inklings challenge#leah stories#OKAY. SO#i spend so much time thinking about king lear. i think i've said before that it's my favorite shakespeare play. it is not close#and one of the hills i will die on is that cordelia was not in the right when she refused to flatter her dad#like. obviously he's definitely not in the right either. the love test was a screwed up way to make sure his kids loved him#he shouldn't have tied their inheritances into it. he DEFINITELY shouldn't have kicked cordelia out when she refused to play#but like. Cordelia. there is no good reason not to tell your elderly dad how much you love him#and okay obviously lear is my starting point but the same applies to the meat loves salt princess#your dad wants you to tell him you love him. there is no good reason to turn it into a riddle. you had other options#and honestly it kinda bothers me when people read cordelia/the princess as though she's perfectly virtuous#she's very human and definitely beats out the cruel sisters but she's definitely not aspirational. she's not to be emulated#at the end of the day both the fairytale and the play are about failures in storge#at happens when it's there and you can't tell. when it's not and you think it is. when you think you know someone's heart and you just don'#hey! that's a thing that happens all the time between parents and children. especially loving past each other and speaking different langua#so the challenge i set myself with this story was: can i retell the fairytale in such a way that the princess is unambiguously in the wrong#and in service of that the king has to get softened so his errors don't overshadow hers#anyway. thank you for coming to my TED talk#i've been thinking about this story since the challenge was announced but i wrote the whole thing last night after the super bowl#got it in under the wire! yay!#also! the whole 'modern setting that conflicts with the fairytale language' is supposed to be in the style of modern shakespeare adaptation#no idea if it worked but i had a lot of fun with it#pontifications and creations
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stardusteyes · 7 months ago
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Soooo..
Guess what I had the mixed fortune of hearing about recently.
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sysig · 4 months ago
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Sizing chart of cute: One Size Fits All (Patreon)
#Doodles#Just Desserts#Villainsona#Spider Bites#Have some cutes to pull you up and out! Finally out from under the Big Bads!#One of the things I've been trying to more often is fullbodies - I default to busts soooo much#They're great for expression work! But they're samey and don't stretch me to work on anything below the chest#Fullbodies are good! I like seeing the whole of my characters! And luckily Charm is cute from head to toe so drawing all of her is fun :)#If anything I still struggle with her hair so the upper half of her is probably easier to cut off generally lol#1/3rd hair type design lol#I love her shoes sm ahhh she's so cute <3#Ballet-style pose! I finally added Princess Tutu to my breakfast anime and it was quite cute I enjoyed it :D#Definitely very much a fairytale - wish Ahiru had gotten a slightly happier ending!#I think it would've shaped me a lot at my formative first-anime-engagement age haha but I still enjoyed it as an adult :)#Lots of very pretty poses of course! Fun there as well#More Marshmallow Fluff and Wafer yayy <3 <3 They're the cutes#Love the themst#And the trio's pets again! I gotta give Lemon Squares a pet so I can have all my faves gathered in earnest lol#I think I was speculating about what pet she'd have recently.....a powdered sugar fawn? I can't recall#Oh I have her with a Canary in my notes that's extremely cute haha - she could do with a lemon drop bunny too! Gah too many cutes to choose#It's always that way with the pets haha - but for these three here they're all chatting in their sleep hehe <3#Chirping and yipping and baaing hehe the cutes! Love the lads#And a bonus spider bite and Spider Bites! Truly singular and double there that's funny lol#Worried little guy just a small and lonesome lad! Not very intimidating in singular haha#I wonder what their Battle form would look like hm :)#Couple'a Spider Bites checking in with herselves - one Charm was worried but being together makes it better!#They're cute wahh#Self-confidence self-assuredness better alone together - remember to rely on others too!
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starpros-sunshine · 2 years ago
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OK FOLLOWING UP ON THE BARD THING i think eichi definitely invited wataru to perform at a noble party before. because they'd usually have musicians and so? so ok picture this. it's eichi's birthday so his parents want him to hold a ball and he usually thinks those are annoying but then he gets an idea. make it a masquerade (for the drama). invite wataru as both a performer And his partner for the ball. he's an actor! and everyone is of course impressed by wataru's performance but they're even more impressed because the always polite but unreachable tenshouin heir is expertly dancing with a masked stranger (i love the fact that eichi's specialty in his profile is ballroom dancing). and then they're annoying and overdramatic in public together but no one can figure out Who That Is
and also i know you said that shu was a tailor but i think it would be funny if he also were a noble (his family is also of high standing in canon i think) so he can be there to judge eichi. harshly. i havent figures out yet how to make him besties w wataru but ! it can work
!!!!
This got soooo long again so this is once more put under read more I am so sorry
The idea with the Masquerade comes up while Eichi complains to Wataru about his parents pretty much forcing him to throw a ball for his upcoming birthday (they already planned the whole thing and didn't reallly give him a choice in the matter) and how much of a hassle he thinks that is because of all the superficial politeness between people that everyone knows are gossipping about each other behind each others backs and how sick he is of the pretending to be well acquainted with these people he's talked to maybe once or twice and all the ladies that wish to dance with him and that want to suck up to him because of his families wealth and how really this is all just one big farce to "save face". So Wataru suggests "why not make it a masquerade ball" to spice things up a little bit maybe, take some of the stiffness out of it. And Eichi says he wants to invite Wataru because what's a public event without proper entertainment? Wataru agrees of course and they come up with all of these overly grandiose ideas and scenarios (most of them are utterly absurd. One they genuinely consider involves Wataru pretending to kidnap Eichi and causing a scandal (Eichi woud miraculously reappear the next day and they'd gaslight everyone into thinking that never even happened and all the people are just imagining things)).
Wataru mentions that he'll be gone for an evening to play at the noble's ball to the elderly inn-keeper couple over dinner and they make a really big fuss about it and tell him to dress nicely and to watch his manners because "Remember, you can't just drop from the ceiling with those high society people like we let you do it here they're very sensitive about manners you have to make sure to watch your manners!" and for a minute he wonders how it got to the point that his landlords started to treat him like they personally picked him up from the street when he was a child.
I like to think he met Shu when he was out on the street doing a little street performance to earn some extra money for himself and Shu, the way that he is, came by, looked him up and down, and then started a conversation with him about music as an art form and that somehow turned into a philosophical discussion and at the end of that they each went their own ways with the knowledge that there was a new friendship formed that day.
And maybe he's the one that sews Watarus clothes for the ball because if you spent most of your life as a traveling bard living hand to mouth from your music you won't really have the money for fancy clothes (Eichi still insists on paying for Wataru here because he wouldn't need to spend so much money on fancy ballgowns if it wasn't for him in the first place and also he just wants to treat Wataru to something nice and sees this as his chance seeing as Wataru declines most gift offers me made before). Wataru tells him about the entire thing and Shu scoffs because dislikes Eichi (still need to come up with a way to explain that disdain but I will come up with something trust me!) but his parents force him to be there too so "he might as well" (it's obvious he still puts in a lot of care "because of his pride as an artists" (because Wataru is his friend and he wants him to have something nice)).
Shu only has to be there because his family guilt trips him into going and he doesn't see the point in opening that can of worms again ("We already let you pursue your foolish dream of sewing clothes like a commoner this is the least you could do for your family.")
And then at the actual event he's in some secluded corner together with some other people who only attended as a mere formality because they also do not like the Tenshouin family but they have to be there because they're important and aristocrat politics are weird that way I suppose.
Meanwhile Wataru does his usual thing and charms everyone with his beautiful beautiful voice and his elegance and charm and oh he is so agreeable as a performer. Eichi has to handle the usual "pleasantries" (nothing pleasant about those tries) and he exchanges the one or the other suffering glance with Yuzuru when nobody pays attention that just screams "God when will it end". Yuzuru shoots him back a look that conveys the exact emotion of "my condolences" and then he goes on to look for Tori who's 1.53m figure has disappeared in the group of people and when he finds him he's talking to a gentleman that's about a head taller than him and the mask obscures his face but judging by the hair and the slight "animosity" between them he's talking to Tsukasa, so Yuzuru decides he's in good hands and leaves to do his own thing. (do they know they're talking to each other? Who knows! But they'd probably manage to start bickering either way.)
And eventually it gets to the actual Ball bit of the Birthday Ball Event where they actually dance (there's an actual orchestra there now and they play very lovely music). And almost everyone asks to dance with Eichi at least once. Eichi does not want to waste his time and energy on these people who are just interested in him for his money so he always makes up something about being preoccupied or a little tired or something that gives them no other choice but to back off. Suddenly Wataru appears behind him and does a little "boo!" and Eichi didn't expect that so he startles and almost drops his glass and tells Wataru not to do that anymore at public eventshas while Wataru has to stiffle a laugh because he thinks Eichi is cute when he pretends to try to be firm with him. After he's done with his "scolding" (you can barely call it that. he was very soft on Wataru.) Wataru asks him for a dance this time and he's very chivalrous about it - he goes all out really - he kisses his hand and offers him a rose while he does a little bow and asks if he "may have this dance with the lovely star of the evening" (and oh Eichi wants to kiss him so bad right then and there but in a room full of people that are worse than a committee of vultures that is very much not an option). Of course he agrees and they move to the dance floor and suddenly a Lot of eyes are on them because Eichi Tenshouin, whom a good chunk of pursuers have already given up on - because let us be real. It will never happen. The man hasn't shown interest in anyone at any moment in time and lives together with the Himemiya heir and his butler as far removed from the rest of the aristocracy as one would be able to - is waltzing with this masked stranger and it becomes very obvious very quickly that Eichis constant declining of dance offers was not for a lack of expertise because those two look breathtaking together.
Eichi actually dips Wataru once and some people wish they had hired an artist to paint the scene (because I'm a sap and wataei is beautiful I don't care I'm being self indulgent here)). And they talk but nobody can understand what because of the loud music and they curse the orchestra - which is still playing very lovely music (it's heavenly really) - for it.
After their dance is over Eichi goes back to declining every dance offer he gets with the excuse he's exhausted and needs to rest a little before he can dance again (the "I don't wish to dance with you" is implied and in the room but most people chose to ignore it to spare their ego and decide to take him at face value) and Wataru disappears to somewhere, nobody really knows where but somehow he's nowhere to be found. Until he sneaks up to Eichi a second time and does the whole "Boo!" thing again and Eichi almost drops his glass yet another time and as he turns around to "scold" Wataru again Wataru shushes him and takes Eichis, who is more confusedd than anything by now, hand and sneaks out of the ballroom with him.
Eichi asks where they are going and Wataru doesn't answer he just keeps walking and Eichi decides to just trust the process and suddenly they're on the Balcony again, not a cloud in the sky and the only sounds to be heard are the muffled instrumentals from the orchestra that started playing their next piece. The only lightsource being the moonlight reflected by the new years snow. And Wataru turns around, he's not wearing a mask anymore, and he does his little bow and kisses Eichis hand, hands him a rose he had appear from nowhere - a white one this time - and does his entire "May I have this dance with the lovely star of the evening" spiel again. It's the same routine really but it's different somehow. More intense. Because he says it with more sincerity than he did when they were around more people. And Eichi doesn't even have to reply before he finds himself whisked into this waltz yet again, somehow in the leading position. And then they dance and they dance and it's just the two of them, the stars as their only witnesses. And as the orchestra finishes their piece and the music fades out Eichi dips Wataru again and they kiss and it is so sappy and they are so so so so sappy.
They stay out on the balcony a little while longer but they retreat back inside rather timely seeing as it is still january and the night and as the following consequence of those two circumstances actually pretty cold and they'd both rather Eichi not get sick (he already got Watarus coat but then they'd also both like it very much if Wataru also didn't get sick either so they migrate back into the empty, dimly lit hallways of the mansion rather quickly)
(meanwhile at the actual ball people have noticed Eichi missing and started to ask questions, poor Yuzuru has to repeatedly tell people Eichi probably retreated into his quarters already, seeing as it is rather late and he was rather tired "Please excuse the young master for his failing in notifiying the other guests, he told me he didn't wish to interrupt the nice atmosphere and preferred to leave unnoticed".)
After the festivities died down Yuzuru and Tori go to check up on Eichis room because he's been gone without any notice and it would probably be useful to know if their kind-of-roommate just went away to fool around with that strange bard man they've been seeing sneaking around their mansion from time to time that Eichi seems to be oddly fond of or if the should actually be worried about his well-being. After they knock and get no reply Yuzuru just opens the door and he and Tori are both greeted with the view of Eichi asleep in his bed and next to him the also seemingly fast asleep figure of Wataru who's braid got considerably more lose during the course of the evening and who's also seemingly wearing some of Eichis sleepwear.
They both decide they have seen enough they do neither need nor wish to see more. Yuzuru, who has been in this situation before doesn't even have it in him anymore to react in a specific way. He just lets out this big sigh because he doesn't get paid enough for all of this as he directs Tori out of the room. Tori who has not been in this situation before has a Lot of questions now because he doesn't know this man but he's apparently closer to Eichi than most other people and he doesn't know how to feel about that but happy is probably not it.
(The following day Eichi has to listen to a (rightfully) disgruntled Yuzurus passive-agressive-yet-somehow-still-very-polite-sounding-Yuzuru-complaints about him just disappearing like that and leaving it to Yuzuru to take care of his mess (Eichi promises him to make up for it and that if Yuzuru has any favour to ask he's very welcome to come to Eichi about it). Tori really wants to ask about the strange man Eichi was so involved with but between not really getting a word in while Eichi and Yuzuru are talking and not really knowing how to take the exceedigly good mood Eichi is in (he's had "A very nice evening". With utmost certainty it was for reasons other than him actually enjoying the mingling witht the high society at social function he was obligated to host, Tori guesses), he kind of clinks out here and decides to simply take matters into his own hands when he gets the chance.)
#never let me write anything about them ever again#this got so long again I really just wrote my heart out huh#can you believe I actually researched flower language for this#in the middle I remembered that January is actually really cold at night so maybe I should switch up my approach a little#hm. did that work out? I have no idea#I kind of blacked out somewhere in the middle#Hiyori could've been in this idk he was there too somewhere with Jun or something#Eden attended the event but they're unimportant right now#can you tell I love fairytales by the way I feel like that got a little obvious throughout this entire AU#oh I should make a tag for this I'm actually rather fond of my embarrassing cringefail wataei au rambles#Btw when Wataru comes back home he's also in a very good mood and the elderly inn-keeper couple tease him about it#I've gotten very soft about that little thing that started as a side bit initially#those are his parents now they looked at this guy that has been occupiying this one room for a Long while#and that pays his rent by doing shows for the guests or helping in the kitchen or generally just helping around#some things are just easier when you're young and energetic#and they looked at him and his birds and went ''You're a little strange and off putting but you're part of the family now''#this is way less profound than the first one it's suuuper self indulgent and a little lame but I like indulging from time to time#head in hands i really like wataei#wataei#OH! wait there's symbolism in the dance scene (the second one)#the rest is just me being silly#yumefan🎼🌠#Wataru could wear Eichis clothes no problem I think thats so neat#because they're the same height and it's been said Wataru can pass perfectly for a woman so I assume he has more of a slim frame#chances are Eichis clothes sit loser on him than on Eichi i think that's a little funny#the possibility is there is all I'm saying#<- tag until i figure something out that sounds nicer#Märchen au
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crocodilenjoyer · 7 months ago
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hmmmmm law and rosinante. those last few months. it’s cold. they’ve been running for a long time. you could make an erlkönig au out of this
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shoheiakagi · 1 year ago
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@bandousama replied to your post:
hi and ty for the questions about my silly little au! i love making ideas about it here and even getting some inputs from you guys! putting this under the cut since my response ended up being lengthy. pls feel free to ask any more questions or share your own thoughts!
Is this going to be a story?
I really do want to write this out, but unfortunately i dont really have any writing skills 🫤 it took me a while to draft out these few paragraphs that were meant to be a synopsis/prologue. maybe someday i’ll come around to write quick drabbles?? but if i have any writers following me, i’d be happy to commission this fic!
Will there be any drama between y/n and Shouhei? Like including a fight scene or something?
Even if this never gets written, i do imagine this au to have a lot of drama and the relationship between shouhei and y/n to become toxic (it’s inevitable; he’s a rockstar and she’s a model. there will be drug use and morals will be compromised to achieve fame). Both of them are also not in the right headspace in some parts of the story, with shouhei spiraling as he tries to make his own identity as a soloist, and y/n trying to make it alive in a cutthroat industry through any means possible.
In the synopsis, Shouhei is immediately reminded of those little ballerina figurines when he first sees y/n (y’k, the little docile ones that seems so fragile and is always locked away when the box is not being used). he gets infatuated and soon idealizes her as this pretty doll that he has to lock her away protect from this soul-sucking industry, purposely ignoring the fact that y/n is a complex person with her own flaws and bad decisions.
*spoiler alert* y/n has a bf when she meets shouhei, who she ends up cheating on with him
Is the rock band mainly about the abc boys or all of hrm?
All of hmr are featured, but i think I would focus more on the abc boys since im more interested in them
Is this a story just about Shouhei or all the other guys getting their own as well?
It’s primarily about shouhei, but the other guys also have their own unresolved issues and relationships to work out, which will def be mentioned bc i want to give all of the boys extra depth and characterization. i think i can see chitose being the secondary abc boy in this particular fic, since he’s the one in the worst condition out of the boys, and bc i lowkey might make shouhei and chitose have a closer friendship in this fic. basically a friendship where they get fucked up together and make even more bad decisions. but if i really were to write this out, i’d want each boys to have their own spin off.
What inspired you to think of this au?
its funny cause i was reading this fic in another fandom where person A is this fashion critic who attends a show where person B is modeling and they’re both immediately attracted to each other, when i was like ok but imagine shouhei in this au?? But i can’t see shouhei as some fashion critic, which is when I remember that i have this other au where the boys are like this popular rock band (used to be pop idol group when i first thought of this au), and that fits more since celebrities visit fashion shows (also guys, please ask me about this au too cause i have lot of thoughts about rockstars!hmr and the pop idol girl group thats their competition in terms of international popularity). only difference is that fic did not feature any toxic dynamics lol. also! the whole idea about hmr taking a break as a group, the members pursuing solo endeavors during the break, and shouhei making a lot of noise by being the first member to attend a high fashion event is based off the first few months of bts’ hiatus last year lmaoooo
Since Shouhei is the lead vocalist what do the other band members do?
I actually haven’t thought much of that, esp since hmr is too huge to be one band. so what i was thinking that maybe theyre all split up in different acts under the same company: mikoto originally being a solo rock artist before calling it quits because he couldnt handle the fame. he eventually forms his own small company that aligns better with his values. we have totsuka as the dreamy soloist who sings romantic ballads and wins the nation’s heart, yata and kamamoto being a hip-hop duo with lots of break dances, the abc boys being a rock band, and kusanagi being the manager who keeps everyone in check (look idk if this actually works out like this irl but canon has mikoto having an ample amount of money in savings and kusanagi owning tons of restaurants overseas so 🤷‍♀️)
with the abc boys, shouhei is the lead vocalist, chitose and dewa play the guitars, eric and fuji plays the bass with eric serving back up vocals, and bandou plays the drums.
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dodecademons · 2 years ago
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I wish for Penny to be Little. I just think it'd be neat.
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featherymainffins · 18 days ago
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Thought about making a fan-chapter for Slay The Princess as well but what the hell could I even say. I fear all the beats of a heart have already been spelled out in the night sky.
#like whenever i see a coolass fan Princess I'm like 'hmmm Perhaps i should make one'#and then I go 'oh wait i have nothing to say'#like...the way I see my childhood? The Tower/Apotheosis already exists and so does The Fury#the way I perceive the world and social interactions and the way it influences my perception of myself? The Cage and The Razor are#already in the game. So is The Thorn.#the way I exist as a product with no inner self; simply a service that can't keep its eyes off the social clock?#yeah well Damsel and HEA are already in the game too.#literally nothing left for me to say. i don't have a perspective to add i fear.#like i COULD but it'd be largely intersecting with HEA. because the only thing i can think to add is Sternberg's#uuuuh Recovery story (i assume it's called that in English? maybe Healing story? pretty sure Recovery is more likely)#but i think it's very intertwined with the Fantasy story; at least specifically in STP. because while HEA is mostly a depiction#of the impermanence of love as a Fantasy story (i hate that English name. it's so stupid. why isn't it called a Fairytale story#like in the Czech translation. it's way more accurate because it describes the idea of love as a grand epos with knights and princesses#and a happy ending. literally characterised by the thought that your partner is like a prince or a princess and that there is your#one true love waiting for you and that love should mimic fairytales and that it ends in a happily ever after)#anyway yeah HEA is partly about the impermanence of that. but the way Damsel and her HEA version think and function is reminiscent of#the Sacrifice story and the Recovery story. more so the Sacrifice one. but honestly i think people with either of these#stories have similar patterns of thinking?#so uh yeah. so it's like. yeah sure i could go on the stage and ramble about those two stories#for hours but like. I'd probably just paraphrase HEA and Damsel.
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foldingfittedsheets · 1 month ago
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There was this park near where I grew up. I remember we’d just moved to the area so I was around six and we drove past and saw this waterfront area. My parents decided to check it out so we went for a walk. It was a lovely park, there’s a lazy slough, lots of trees, extremely picturesque. My parents ambled along the trail enjoying the nature while my siblings and I ranged around in their orbit like excitable moons.
Then I saw something odd. Something vibrantly alive down by the water that was entirely the wrong color. I called back my vital scouting info and my family gathered around me. We looked down the steep verge toward the slough, screened by underbrush. We couldn’t quite make out what it was. The only thing we could agree was that it certainly wasn’t a duck. However it was about duck sized and roughly duck shaped. It just wasn’t a duck.
This led to some heated debate amongst my siblings and I but we were forbidden to scramble down the muddy hill to harass the mystery animal. Reluctantly we continued down the trail, speculating wildly when a chicken popped out of a bush in front of us with a train of several chicks.
We froze. The chicken did not. She placidly herded her little puffs across the trail, pecking happily for seeds, unbothered by our proximity. My family had not yet delved into farming and this was the first time any of us kids had seen a chicken up close. It was like a fairytale thing, a creature we had seen over and over in books was suddenly here in the wilderness of the park. We all realized the mystery creature had likewise been a chicken.
Another couple came up the trail and saw us staring.
“Is this your first time at the park?” They asked?
We nodded.
They informed us that this park had become a dumping ground for unwanted chickens. Once the chickens were dumped they were park property and the locals didn’t mind the eccentric additions at all. No one looked after the chickens, but they got on surprisingly well.
As the years went by we visited the park regularly. Signs were added to warn people not to dump off chickens or they’d be fined. They were also excluded from snatching the existing chickens. The hope was that the chickens would eventually run their course and the park would go back to normal.
It did not.
Instead the menagerie grew. Peacocks cropped up occasionally, turkeys; and one visit we saw guinea fowl. But there were always chickens. Eventually feed dispenser were installed so park goers could pay a quarter to enjoy the motley flocks.
Because we’d moved into a house with land my mom started up a chicken coop and we got our very own chickens at the feed store like proper folks. The first rooster we had was a gentleman, politely clucking at us when came into the coop, but the second proved troublesome a year later. He either adored or hated me. Every time I entered the coop he’d dance and flounce and brandish his spurs.
My mom didn’t want to off him frankly she didn’t know how at that point but his fascination ended with him flying at me and the rooster was sentenced to banishment.
We drove to the park.
We saw him there for years afterward, clucking dutifully around a small flock of hens. He did pretty well in exile.
Anyone who’s kept chickens knows that eventually there’s always a tragedy. Ours happened when a neighbors dog broke into our coop and slaughtered the flock. I was absolutely distraught, my lovingly hand reared chicks all decimated in a flurry of senseless bloodlust. I have not loved a chicken since. They are too fragile to bear it.
After a few days of mourning my mom offered that she knew where to find some more chickens. To make up for the massacre she planned a night raid with us. We stayed up past our bedtime and drove to the park with tarp covered kennels in the back of the truck.
We crept down along the gravel parking lot, looking up into the trees, spotting the telltale lumps of shadows that meant chickens. We quickly developed a strategy. We picked a chicken branch, creeping close underneath. Then we reached the end of the branch and gave it a good shake until the roosting chicken glided down to the ground in confusion. It was easy to scoop them up and we went home the proud new owner of a handsome flock of chickens.
The Take a Chicken Leave a Chicken park is still a beloved feature of its neighborhood to this day.
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loves0phelia · 2 months ago
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hello! hope you’re okay after the ending, honestly I don’t think any of us are.
I wanted to request a rafe x pogue reader where it’s that boat storm scene and instead of Sarah falling it’s reader and she’s just drowning and Rafe jumps in after her. He doesn’t know why he did it but he just has a soft spot for her and it’s just really angsty but also cute.
thanks! I love your account btw!
In The Sea
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Summery: the anon
Words: 2.5k
Warnings: grammar mistakes
A\N: thank you to everyone who has been requesting it makes me very happy xxx
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You stand at the edge of the deck, clutching the railing as the boat rocks, waves rolling against the hull. The salty breeze whips your hair around your face, and the peaceful ocean sounds made you think about the current situation.
You didn't expect Rafe to save you and your friends from being arrested, much less expect him to find a boat big and resistant enough to drive you all to Morocco Africa to find the blue crown. It was truly a surprise considering you and Rafe's history.
“So what? Are we just on our way to Africa now?” Kiara asked the group as if she couldn't believe that Rafe Cameron was willingly helping them.
“Quick little weekend trip?” She added to her previous sentence.
“What about Rafe? We know what he did to the cross and now we want to go after the crown with him?” You and the rest of the pogue's lips go into a thin line at the memory.
“Sarah, you're his family, how do deal with him” John B said, finding no other options.
“I don't- I don't know, I think maybe y/n might have a chance of convincing him to behave but..” she shrugged and you felt the stares of your friends burn holes through you. Your past relationship with him was a secret to nobody.
“We- we just have to talk to him, or at least try” You proposed earning a frown from JJ.
“Talk to Rafe? When has he ever just communicated with us?” 
“Talking to him is the only option we have, but you're definitely not talking with him,” John B said and as expected everyone nodded and hummed, agreeing. JJ was in no place to talk with Rafe.
“Why not? What did I do?” He asked, getting almost frustrated.
“We all know you and him are far from being civil, the last thing we need is you triggering him and causing trouble” His girlfriend, Kiara, tried to explain the easiest way but he still got defensive. After a couple of bickering from JJ and John b You finally decide to go speak with him, who was driving the boat not too far away from the deck.
“Hey,” You knock on the metal and rusted door before entering and walking up to him. His eyes catch yours and there's a tension between the two of you. But Rafe only tilts his head to acknowledge you.
You swallow, feeling the weight of his stare. "We just want to talk," you say, steadying your voice as the rest of your friends beside JJ follow behind you.
“All right let's talk” Rafe chuckles, and it’s low, almost a whisper. 
Your mind goes almost blank as you take him in, you haven't been this close since you were forced in the same room by Sighs men last year. You had almost forgotten how much you missed him.
“You guys be cool I'll be cool” His voice snapped you out of your daydream, realizing you had missed a bit of the conversation.
“So now you want peace?” Pope leaned back and scoffed, not believing a word that came out of his mouth.
“I just saved all your asses, how about a thank you?” He glanced at all of you one by one, but he only earned silence,
“Listen I don't want any part of your little fairytale treasure hunt bullshit, I'm just looking for Groff” He’s breathing heavily, holding himself back from adding more snark,
“Hey, Rafe!” Before anyone can react, JJ’s fist flies through the air, cracking against Rafe’s jaw with a force that echoes.
Rafe’s head snaps back, his expression stunned for a split second before he crumples, hitting the hard metal floor. For a moment, everyone is frantic, staring at the lifeless form sprawled across the floor, his eyes closed, completely knocked out.
“holy shit”
“Jesus JJ what's your problem”
“Whoo that felt good” Tired of JJ's crazy actions the girls walk away shaking their heads in disbelief until you are the only one staying behind.
JJ stands over him, breathing heavily, the adrenaline still pulsing through him as he looks down at Rafe. His fist is red, already bruising, but he doesn’t seem to care.
“What is wrong with you?” You look at him, feeling a rush of shock mixed with panic. You fall to your knees next to Rafe and quickly look over his injuries, softly rubbing your thumb on his jaw.   “If he didn't do it I was going to do it” Pope added only worsening the situation. You shook your head and furrowed your eyebrows at his sentence.
After the pogues agreed it was probably not a good idea to let Rafe free in case he woke up and decided to shoot you all with his “peacemaker” you tied him up in a small cabin. His head hung low, his wrists were bound to a stainless steel pole and his legs were uncomfortably folded beneath him. Your heart clenched at the sight of him but still decided to leave him there until he woke up.
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You open the door to the cabin slowly with a tray of warmed-up canned spaghetti in hand, it wasn't the best but it was all the boat had.
“I brought you food..” You whispered before bending down to place the tray in front of him.
“great” he sighed.
“I found aspirin in the medicine cabinet, I figured you'd have a headache, maybe even a concussion” 
“Right… are you gonna throw it in my mouth like a seal or something” He scoffed again clearly angered,
“They don't trust you Rafe… but if you do the right thing maybe they will open up a little bit”
“I am doing the right thing! I helped you” He tried pulling against the restraints but failed. 
“I know okay? I know but unfortunately, I don't have a choice but to let you in here until we get there, I'm sorry” you whispered and pushed the tray closer to him. “Please eat,” You said and left closing the large door behind you.
For a moment you stayed behind the door listening closely. “Y/N come back!” he grunts and kicks his feet on the ground. “Fucking untie me please!!” he screamed and you jumped when you heard the tray you had just put down on the floor fly into the wall.
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Pope leaning over the side, is the first to spot the flicker of movement beneath the water. "Guys! I see one!" exclaims, his voice a mixture of excitement and focus. He scrambles for the fishing rod, almost knocking over the tackle box in his rush.
John B is right beside him, laughing. “We've got our dinner!" he laughs.
“Guys, this one’s huge!” Kie giggles with the boys knowing we were all set for dinner time tonight.
You all spent the rest of the day cooking the fish you caught and preparing side dishes with some good music in the background.
Until it was time for Rafa's second meal.
You open the door carefully and his eyes catch yours, this time you don't speak, simply set the tray of seasoned salmon down in front of him.
Has you were about to close the door you hear him.
“Wait, y/n. Can you please- can you give me the fork” his tone is much softer than before so you can't deny him. 
You get down and pick up the utensil his bound hands couldn’t reach.
“Thank you” He murmured, and you barely heard him as you closed the door behind you once again.
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The sky darkens ominously as thunder rumbles in the distance, low and threatening. Waves crash harder against the hull of the boat, tossing it with a force that leaves you gripping onto anything within reach. The storm monitor flashes red to show the storm coming ahead of you.
“That's not good,” John B says.
“We're gonna have to try to blast through it,” Pope says, not finding any better options.
“Why can't we go south?” Kie asks genuinely.
“The current is gonna be against us we don't have a choice” John B agreed even after trying to find safer options, the boat's roar has Pope push the lever controlling the engine to the max. 
The waves make the boat shift side to side making it difficult to stay up and steady.
Another massive wave crashes over the side, drenching them all, and you lose your footing, sliding across the deck until Kie grabs your arm, pulling you back.
“Hold on to something” Kie yells at you pope and Sarah and you all grip onto the nearest thing.
“Hey!” a distant voice echoes through the walls.
“Cut me loose! Y/N! Somebody!” Rafe screamed and banged his fists on the wall.
“Get me out of here!” Everyone listens but doesn't move a finger.
“We have to let him out” You scramble to your feet but jerk back when Cleo grabs your wrist.
“No!” she says trying to stop you but you pulled back.
“He's gonna drown” You pull open rapidly the drawers trying to find something sharp, able to cut the thick ropes wrapped around Rafe's hands.
The storm is relentless, its fury tossing you around like a rag doll as you try to reach him.  
You cling to the railing, struggling to stay upright as the boat lurches violently, nearly sending you sprawling across the floor. Your legs buckle under you. You come crashing through the door and walk onto the water-soaked floor knife in hand.
“Cut me loose” he begs.
Crouching in front of him you began frantically cutting the rope. Your muscles burn with how much pressure you're using.
“Shit,” You say when a sudden jerk of the boat makes your face come inches apart from his, lips almost touching. You don't have time to think as you regain your balance and continue cutting the bounds.
“There! Come on” you yelled and quickly grasped his hands to pull him up from the floor.
You both run to shelter but the boat jerks side to side even more violently,
“Something is wrong I have to go see!” 
“No!” Rafe tried holding on to you but you were already rushing away onto the deck where waves came crashing, a massive wave rose out of the dark, towering over the boat like a shadow.
You barely had time to think before it crashed down, an icy, unforgiving wall of water that slammed into you with the force of a sledgehammer. The impact was too strong and you were thrown backward, landing hard on the deck. Pain explodes through your shoulder, the wind knocks from your lungs. Dazed and gasping, you try to get up, but the boat tips again, and before you can stand, another wave strikes.
This one is worse, merciless, catching you just as you struggle to rise. Your fingers graze the edge of the railing, but the slick metal slips through your grasp. In an instant, the world spins as you are thrown away from the boat, the cold, raging ocean swallowing you whole.
The water is a shock, freezing and chaotic, disorienting you as you plunge beneath the surface. You thrash, fighting to reach the surface, lungs burning, but the waves toss you back and forth, each effort to rise met with another rush of icy water.
Back on the boat, Rafe catches a glimpse of you disappearing over the side, and his heart stops. “Y/N!” he screams, panic cutting through the storm. Without a second thought, he scrambles to the railing, nearly slipping himself as he peers out into the dark, searching for any sign of you.
“Where is she!” Sarah came rushing to her brother
“She fell overboard” he yells already reaching for a rope with the floating boyee. He’s soaked, exhausted, and barely steady, but there’s no hesitation as he jumps in after you.
“Rafe no!” She screams after her brother.
A wave slams into Rafe. “Y/N!!” he yells in the water as he sees you trying to stay above the water far away.
With the last of your strength, You swim faster and harder towards Rafe and reach out when you're near, fingers brushing his arm, grasping it tight. Rafe holds you with everything he has.
“I got you” But you don't hear him in the storm.
You both hold on to each other your arms around his neck and his around your waist as the boat floats away and the night turns into a void.
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“Hey, open your eyes, look at me” You feel gentle hands grasping on your face as you finally sit up coughing out the water that filled your lungs.
“That's it” The hands rub your back in a comforting way.
The sand is hot beneath you, warming up your skin, and with exhaustion, you fall onto Rafe's chest.
“Hey you okay?” panicked, he grabs onto your shoulder and pushes you a little bit to take a good look at your face.
“You jumped after me,” you whispered.
“Of course I did”  You look up at him, heart pounding, feeling a rush of gratitude, fear, and something deeper—something that’s been smouldering beneath the surface, unspoken, for far too long. Your eyes shine with tears, not sad and not happy either but grateful. 
His hand reaches up, brushing a strand of wet hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your skin. His touch is warm, and grounding, and you feel your heart racing even faster under his gaze, intense and unreadable, like he’s seeing you for the first time.
Without another thought, you lean in, closing the space between the two of you as you press your lips to his, a spark igniting into a wildfire the moment you connect. Rafe’s surprise melts away instantly, and he kisses back, fierce and unrestrained, his hands finding your waist.
The kiss is charged, fueled by adrenaline, and a longing that neither of you can deny any longer. Your hands find his shoulders, clinging to him, grounding you in his warmth, his strength, the feel of his heartbeat thundering beneath your touch. 
Rafe’s fingers trail up your back, sending shivers along your spine, and his lips move against yours with an urgency that speaks of everything left unspoken.
When you finally pull apart, breathless, Rafe’s forehead rests against yours, his eyes searching yours as he lets out a shaky laugh, almost in disbelief.
“You saved my life” you smile, brushing a thumb over his cheek, still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips. “I love you, I've always loved you” you whisper, and before you know it, you're kissing again, the ocean waves crashing nearby, the world forgotten as you lose yourselves in each other.
“I never stopped loving you,” he whispered.
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Send request xxx
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arcadia345 · 2 months ago
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❃Astrology observations❃
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Masterlist
Not a real astrologer just my observations:)
❃ Aquarius moon femmes tend to be more masculine/tomboyish whether it be their personality or fashion sense they prefer loose fitting clothes. They have this nonchalantness/offstandish energy about them, they also are very sensitive and receptive to energies around them esp after one on one interactions but surprisingly do very well w online interactions💀they could feel like their personality shines brighter online than irl
❃ 12th ruler in 7th natal partners could have animosity towards you esp if you prefer men they tend to have secret intentions/lives
❃ Sagittarius in your natal chart is where you tell the best stories, and gemini can show where others ask for advice/tell their best stories to you(and lowkey try to impress you)
♐︎ in 1st -you ARE the story, there’s never a dull moment ,so many memories are made w you, many stories where you had to be reminded that your that GIRL/GUY✨ (esp by your guides)
♐︎ in 8th- they articulate their trauma very well, the ones that talk openly about their abuse, lots of near-death stories, surgery stories that they almost didn’t make it out of, thieving stories
♐︎ in 11th- the type to bring their friends into every situation/story, most likely to do the best story time vids online, their stories can be eye opening for the collective, people love when they predict the future, stories about the future/goals of humanity, evolution stories, stories about you gaining independence(just like 1st)
♐︎ in 12th- they love to hear about your dreams and conspiracies, they love when you talk about your insecurities and spill your own secrets, your paranormal experiences and things about past lives
♊︎ in 2nd- they love to tell you how hard they work for their assets, “You know I haven’t told anyone this but I feel like I can trust you.” They don’t mind telling you about their illegal activities, people have a tendency to think you took something from them, they come to you for advice on how to approach situations
♊︎ in 5th- the type to have kids come up to them and all their parents business (4th house also), the best childhood memory stories, people try to impress you w their sex stories , they come to you for advice on sex and love matters also, asking for your opinion w fashion & aesthetics, you make them want to try new things🥵
❃ Taurus in the 3rd/4th find it hard to leave their family/home
Cancer risings (4°16°28°) their face and body fluctuate through life but their faces tend to get rounder/fuller as they age
❃ Sending love out to Venus in Pisces/12th house natals y’all are what fairytales are made of🥺 just being in your presence is healing even tho they feel sometimes their deepness and devotion isn’t reciprocated at times idk who needed to hear this but your loving energy transcends the physical barriers you could do a lot of energy work on the other side w/o even realizing it esp while sleeping🧡
❃ I feel bad for Chloe because w that Gemini mars baby everybody always gonna think you doing too much😭 unti you don’t do enough & they’ll still be mad
Finding out Lil uzi has a Gemini mars sent me💀 it reminds of them vids of their security guard trying to keep up w them while they jump all over the place🕺🏽
❃ Sag moon children mom was in her hoe phase when u were conceived. Partying/traveling/drinking/learning was prominent for her at the time
Venus in natal can show you why others envy you
♀ in 2nd- they envy how consistently you upkeep yourself, they see how much money you put into yourself to look good, they hate how materially abundant you are, how easily you make money from your talents/assets, they envy your sugar daddy/baby energy
♀ in 4th- they envy how abundant your family/ancestry is, they envy your mom/your motherly skills, how easily you make a house feel like home, how rich your inner world is, your decoration sense, how easily you’ll be remembered after passing/leaving home, how easily you make money from home
♀ in 8th- they envy how easily others trust you esp w their money & possessions, how beautifully you shed your skin in transformations, sugarbaby placement, how magnetic you are, how easily people become obsessed w you, your way of love making/showing love/spoiling others or vise versa
♀ in 12th- a lot of people don’t even realize that they envy you/ subconsciously send you evil eye, you provoke their hidden desires(this place def has lots of people in their circle wishing on their downfall) they envy how content you are with yourself /and how you’ve healed yourself , your music taste
I feel like prominent Pisces placements tend to lose their teeth more often than Capricorns, could also have dreams of teeth falling out/rotting
❃ Prominent Virgo in natal stay cleaning up other people’s 💩💀 like literally tho at some point in your life you’ve had to be some type of caretaker ie. animals, elderly, babies. But 💩 is more prominent/consistent in your life
But if ur a pet owner or caretaker in general you know that a lot of times the only way they can communicate what’s going on w their body Is through their bowel movements so it’s a blessing and a curse cuz it’s not like your obsessed with 💩 (unless👀) but you kinda have to be😭
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Aphrodite in Gemini/3rd house natals have contagiously attractive laughs/smiles, delicate hand and arm movements, and beautiful hands and lips
❃ Every time I have prominent 8th synastry esp moon/mars we always have 🩸 sex eventually 🧍🏽‍♀️ they be feigning so bad for you that they can’t wait a few more days they need it now! But they always end up saying you put a spell on them like no bro u willingly put a spell on YOURSELF💀
❃ 7th house mercury could attract or prefer younger/pettie people or they are seen as such, also prone to have partners w prominent anxiety
❃ Eros/mars in Aries/cancer/scorpio in composite charts shows lots of crying during sex but for different reasons
Aries cries because ur f*cking/sucking them so good all they can do is take it like a champ and cry happy tears 🥲
Cancer cries because you truly touched their soul🥺 they never thought sex could be this satisfying and comforting at the same time (healing sex like Pisces)
With scorpio it’s kinda a mixture of both w sprinkles of trauma bonding✨
❃ Venus in 8th synastry- adoring eachothers beauty marks esp the house person @ Venus , the house person usually adores the Venus’s insecurities/stuff about themselves that they never picked up on which gives the Venus person a new prospective of their beauty
❃ Mercury synastry can tell you how you were first introduced/heard of each other
☿ in 8th- meeting while/before going through a transformational/traumatic period in your life, you could have problems w people owing you money or vise versa, catalyst for spiritual & sexual growth, meeting before/after having a major surgery
☿ in 9th- meeting through college/highschool,being introduced to/by a different ethnicity friend,meeting while traveling esp abroad, catalyst in spiritual journey, meeting through religious community
☿ in 4th- I have this w my mom while her ☿ is in my 1st so you could also share this w your parents, w cancer and Aries basically representing the womb her PUMPUM told her about me😂obvi she had no other choice but to learn about me I was coming weather she liked it or not😎 so w 1st house synastry I feel like they were kinda forced onto you they’re pretty hard to miss🥴with 4th her aunts/women in her family told her she was gonna have another baby before she even knew🤷🏽‍♀️
❃ Jupiter in 1st synastry -even the most stubborn person would hear planet person out w this placement 😏 Jupiter boost house persons ego/outlook on life, planet person just makes everything look good & exciting in house person eyes
❃ Pluto in 11th natal- unfriending someone could really feel like a divorce lmao telling people your not friends anymore and they react so crazy like “NO I NEVER WOULDVE THOUGHT💔💔💔” then splittng up your assets (friends/aspirations)
❃ Gemini Venus-girl next door vibe people watch through your window esp w some Pluto energy on your Venus, the song ‘She by Tyler the creator’ was made about us fr😭
❃ Taurus (2°14°26°)moons people think that they own you or that you’re some object they can use anytime they want whether it be your body or your possessions
Also having a Taurus moon could play out as feeling like you didn’t get the support that you needed in ur childhood, the type to have moms that say “I put clothes on your back, food on your plate, and a pillow to lay your head and you’re telling me I didn’t do enough for you??😠😤” like sorry I needed emotional support and understanding as a child that you couldn’t give me🥲 the mom could see the child as spoiled/ungrateful esp with harsh aspects on the moon, but they could also just feel like they have a right to your possessions esp if you live in the same house what is privacy?😀
❃ 6th house synastry is big on planning together,the type to count down the days till they get to see e/o 🥰
Now offering aura & synastry readings
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That’s it for now, have a blessed day ✨
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tojisun · 5 months ago
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the lights are on
!! simon riley x afab reader; chubby reader; confidence and body issues; past bullying (not by simon and briefly mentioned); smut - minors dni // divider by @/plutism!
i projected too much of myself onto the reader so do forgive me for that. this is a milestone celebration for me, mostly, but also for you all so i hope you all would like it too <3
this is inspired by rachel wiley’s “10 honest thoughts on being loved by a skinny boy” - a slam poetry
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you are told that love comes easily — that it is the budding of spring, shimmering and vibrant, and blooming oh-so tenderly. unfurling oh-so carefully, like you are melting into padded sheets and cashmere sweaters.
you are told that love comes easily — that it stands out amongst a vast ocean. that it is distinguishable; a beacon so familiar you run towards it, unafraid and unashamed. like fate or destiny; like fairytales being remade.
you are told that love comes easily, but you know they mean to people who don’t look like you; only for the girls with slim arms and robust legs, with dips in their waists and hour-glass figures, with bones pressing against their skins like carved mountains.
love comes easily to thin girls. to the girls whose loud laughter are heard as wind chimes, whose jolly isn’t sneered at or embarrassing to see, whose confidence is just is — that it isn’t an act of empowerment or a statement or a message.
so you slink back into your shadows with little laughs and curled shoulders, like maybe if you diminished your presence enough, you would be seen physically small too. petite is a word no one has used for you but how else can anyone explain the way you trim yourself into bite-sized pieces?
you aren’t the first to be chosen; not the one people fight over. when you walk into a room, the best that could happen was that no one would notice you. that you would blend into the shadows or the walls, quiet and peaceful. painfully lonely, yes, but peaceful, nevertheless.
(you still have nightmares of high school.
of boys using you for their dares, like the only thing good about you was to be the butt of the joke; like asking you out was a comedic show.
of girls and—
sometimes, they’re meaner than the boys with all their lilac and softness; you thought that at least they were a kindred soul, but so many times, during lunch, you were cornered into tears until you became full from nothing but your anguish.)
when simon first walked into your life, you knew it — whatever ‘it’ could be — was impossible.
you had already ended the tragedy before something could even begin. you saw his beauty — in a way that you cannot explain; in a way that is rugged and scarred and terrifying, almost, but beautiful, still — and knew there was no way he would fall for you, anyway.
but simon was… persistent. charming you in a way that was painfully absent of all suave but he was still so charismatic, he always left your stomach in knots. hope bloomed in your chest and you realized that maybe it needn’t be a tragedy; that it mustn’t be a joke nor a dare; that you must be—
loved.
that you are loved — just that. just as is.
.
.
simon watches as you lay down on the bed, your cheeks tingling with heat as embarrassment rises from the base of your neck, dancing past your shoulders and devouring up until even the tip of your nose thrums with feverish touch. you look away from him, feeling so shy at the intensity in his eyes. he looks at you like he is ravenous for you; like you are the only nourishment he needs, and that you have made him hungry, his gums aching with the need to sink his teeth into the soft parts of your body.
you have never been looked at like this before, and it is intoxicating. it makes you heady, breathless, lips parted open as you gasp for air—
rustling fills your ears and you perk up, getting ready to snap your bra off, only to find simon naked, bare, his cock chubbing up from underneath his bush, and you have never loved a body until his. lust coils in the tendrils of your heart, stretching into the yawning that burrows in the pit of your stomach to capture you whole.
you want him.
god, do you want him.
he falls to his knees, stalking close to where you are splayed on the bed like the offering you are that he says he will never deserve, but you stop him with a hand up and a quiet breath, and, “the lights.”
your voice trembles. shame slowly snuffs out the greed.
“can you turn them off, please?” you ask because it is a courtesy you were taught to—
‘can you bathe me in darkness so that the two of us can pretend that i am not undesirable and that your love is not a fluke?’
‘can you hide me from your eyes so your mind does not give you reason to pull away?’
‘can you reduce me into a body to fuck into, so that our pretend-love story does not end?’
your question makes simon still, his heady eyes lightening up again. recognition slips into his consciousness and he rouses up — you tell yourself that the caving in your chest isn’t a heartbreak — to reach forward.
to reach for—
you.
simon’s scarred palm falls to your stomach, planting atop the sea of stretch marks. his thumb traces their ridges, so soft and slow and intimate, and your eyes burn because why is he so cruel?
why must he touch you like you are something to revere? like you are something priceless and that he is undeserving of you? like you are, all parts, beautiful?
“won’t you let me love you like this?” is what he says instead, and he moves, desperate to meet your eyes. “can we do it with the lights on, from now on?”
all the air in your lungs is knocked out of you.
his words were quiet but they resonated so loudly, almost booming and deafening. the world doesn’t freeze nor does time slow, but there is something in that moment that makes you feel like you are at the throes of something divine. like you are finally sewn together.
you do not sob but you are so close to doing so. instead, you pull him close, trembling, and give him a kiss. he melts into it, his hands mapping the softness of your body, digging into the fat and never letting go.
he devours you like this — hot lips against your own. spit is shared, moans fall in between the tiny cracks whenever you pull away to breathe only for simon to push close again, never letting you stray alone any longer, and clingy as he fits you into him.
the first drag of his fingers into your cunt makes you gasp, your head falling back to the pillows as a mewl drips from your mouth. he pulls away, huffing, and positions himself so he can watch you. you keep your head tipped up, still so embarrassed by being exposed this way, but simon curls his fingers just right, and he strokes against something that punches a gasp out of you.
“shit—”
“like this, sweetheart?” simon croons, nuzzling his face on your rib, his cheek bumping against your boob. he pulls his fingers out, dragging with him muffled squelching noises that tickle your ears, before fucking his fingers in you again.
you whine, a drawn hiccupped sound, and claw at the sheets at the pace he adopts. it is fast, overwhelming, but still not enough. it seems like he’s spoiled you rotten, and left you needy for nothing but his cock.
“fuck me,” you whimper, arms looped around his wrists. you feel so weak from the pleasure, wrung out of orgasms with his fingers in your cunt and his palm against your clit. you flick your eyes up, meeting his gaze. “si, please?”
he lets out a snarl, his softness and need peaking into something dangerous. you find that you are not scared, instead, you are besotted — inviting him in by spreading your legs wider, showing him how wet your pussy is and that it is ready for his taking.
your face crumples at the slow slide, his cock fucking you raw like this is the first time again. like you two have more to explore, more to uncover, and you keen at the intensity of it all.
missionary has never felt this good before; simon thrusts his hips, humping the remaining inches in, and you scream — your hips snapping up, and your throat burning with the ache. simon holds you by your waist, his fingers dimpling your flesh, and fucks you with gusto.
he chases his orgasm as he melts into you. he is louder today, and more guttural with his desires. he snarls his praises, the words curling from the backs of his teeth until they drip on you like hot wax — scalding, overwhelming, and leaving you to feel all tender and raw.
“si!” you cry out, reaching forward to play with your clit. “m’close, baby. m’close!”
“yeah?” he rasps out, his balls slapping against your ass. you go dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as goosebumps rise across the expanse of your body. “do i make my baby feel good? tell me, sweetheart, go on. tell me, huh?”
he is rambling, untethered, himself, as he loses in his own swelling euphoria.
you sob, toes digging into the mattress because you are unable to properly vocalize the pleasure, your mind all razed by the way he fucks you, but your baby is asking you to do so, so you tell him, “s’good. baby, s’good! i feel so full an’ only you can fuck me good an’— an’ si, i’m gonna— i’m gonna—”
your orgasm hits you like a fever breaking; like you are feeling a sense of release that has never been felt before. you feel like you are suspended, floating, your skin buzzing with lightning. you don’t even know you are screaming, deaf to anything but the explosion of ecstatic pleasure.
your teeth rattle at the first spurt of simon’s cum, and he presses uncoordinated kisses on your lips. it makes you giggle, all sluggish now that exhaustion is weaving in, and it is then that you meet simon’s eyes.
they are so clear and vibrant, the way they only ever are under light. they crinkle in his smile, and you puff, snuggling close, feeling like you can drop to sleep with his cock still in you.
“love you si,” you murmur, your words sticking together in your drowsiness.
he presses a kiss on your temple and breathes you in. then, “i love you too, sweetheart.”
and the lights are still on.
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thank you once again for the 15k, and i hope you have loved this the way i loved writing it <33
i was struck with the poetry, and the way wiley described the way she is loved. she started her performance with the lines: “i say, ‘i am fat.’ he says, ‘no, you are beautiful.’ i wonder why i cannot be both.” and i have never related to anything more. wiley then talks about how their relationship unfurls, and in ‘6’ (it is a list poetry), she says, “he tells me he loves me with the lights on,” and i sobbed.
so i wrote a fic of me, and i hope thats alright.
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books-and-omens · 1 year ago
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Heyyyyyy I’d really like to talk more about the ball, who’s with me.
Because for all its glitter, the ball is dark. No, seriously, it’s dark. It’s eerie, it’s disturbing, and the narrative doesn’t shy away from showing us just how much. 
As in a classic fairytale, mortals are being spirited away into another realm to dance through the night. Here, however, we see exactly who is orchestrating the dance, and why.
And we empathize with him, but watching Aziraphale has never been so painful or so unsettling.
Nina arrives distraught and is immediately hit with the realization that she doesn’t feel distraught, even though she knows she should be feeling it. She confronts Aziraphale and he just tells her: oh yes! :) no long faces tonight! And she is disturbed throughout the ball, thinks she is losing her mind, questions and fights the enchantment… but from time to time, the enchantment still takes hold.
And just—
Aziraphale. Aziraphale, you do know that manipulating people is wrong, don’t you? You… do know that? And yes, of course, neither Crowley’s nor Aziraphale’s approach to morality is human. They are eldritch, they are otherworldly. It was Crowley who changed the paintball guns into real guns in S1, though of course, the humans still had choice in using them.
But the ball is still different.
We’ve never seen Aziraphale do anything quite so disturbing before, or go so obviously deep into his own delusion. There are moments during these scenes when even Crowley, permanently frustrated, is very nearly disturbed. (“Angel! What are you doing?” or “Making it rain is one thing, but a BALL?”)
I fully think that by that point in the story, Aziraphale is not all right. He is in an anxiety spiral, denying reality fiercely, obstinately, disastrously, not listening to any of Crowley’s hissed warnings. Yes, yes, he is giddy, he is in love. It’s so very important for him that everything go RIGHT this night, the night he gets to dance with Crowley. Is he even aware of everything he is conjuring up, of the enchantment he has woven? The humans who step through the doors of the bookshop change: their clothing, their mood, their speech patterns… By this point, is Aziraphale doing this consciously at all? Or is reality conforming to his expectations, forcing everyone into a replica of the nineteenth century while Aziraphale himself, distracted and smitten, works himself up to inviting Crowley to dance?
In the first few episodes, as fear and danger grow, as Aziraphale is faced with the danger specifically to Crowley (I don’t see why he would risk his existence for you, Shax tells him in the car), Aziraphale only denies reality all the more fiercely, only holds on to his plans tighter, only puts more force into them and exerts more control (really, rather like the archangels with their Great Plan).
And the ball, beautiful and otherworldly and eerie as it is, is also a dire warning. 
In the morning, it will be Crowley, not Aziraphale, who will get told off for manipulating Nina and Maggie. Aziraphale won’t reflect on this. He won’t be forced to reflect, and Metatron will manipulate him in turn.
There is a plan to follow. The show must go on.
GOD the ball is so dark.
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