#is it stuff that is easy to answer and there’s a lot of it?

[nemo-writes]

𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝖻𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 𝗆𝖾𝗇 ── .✦

── .✦ 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍

the couch is comfy, the lights are low, and you've just started this week's episode of the great british bake off. simon sits beside you, eyes half-focused on his phone, thumb scrolling. your feet rest on his lap, his free hand absently tracing circles on your ankle. he seems entirely uninterested, barely looking up at the screen as you comment on the contestants’ desserts.

for the first twenty minutes, he’s quiet, only glancing up occasionally, but then someone messes up their cake, and he lets out a low snort. he mutters, "did they not put it in long enough or what?"

it’s a small crack, but it’s enough to make you smile. "guess they didn't. timing is everything, right?" you tease, knowing full well he’s starting to pay attention.

in the next challenge, a contestant fumbles with a piping bag, and simon lets out an unimpressed tsk, his eyes narrowing at the screen. “how can they not know how to pipe a line straight?” he scoffs. "basic stuff."

you laugh. "i didn’t know you were such an expert."

he grumbles, still keeping his eye on the show, now feigning casual disinterest but failing miserably. as the episode progresses, he starts asking more questions, wanting to know the contestants’ names, who’s been there longest, and who has been star baker.

when the star baker is announced, he nods his head in approval, as if he saw it coming all along. he shifts his gaze to you, smirking at your amused expression.

“see? knew they had it in ‘em,” he murmurs, squeezing your ankle gently.

you raise an eyebrow, playing along. “so you’re an expert now?”

instead of answering, he leans over, his hand still wrapped around your ankle, to presses a kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin. you can’t help but laugh as he nuzzles closer, his tone dropping to a playful murmur. “might have to make you something better than all that… if you’re lucky.”

his lips linger, making you laugh again, your fingers brushing his jaw. simon may be a fierce critic, but at this moment, he’s more than content to just savor this quiet time with you.

── .✦ 𝗌𝗈𝖺𝗉

from the second the episode starts, johnny's practically buzzing beside you. he’s been all in on the great british bake off since day one, and tonight is no exception. every time his favorite contestant, a sweet scottish lady with a knack for old-school recipes, appears on screen, he perks up, practically bouncing on the edge of his seat.

when she starts her bake, he mutters words of encouragement under his breath. "c'mon, hen, show 'em what a real baker looks like." and when one of her rivals stumbles, he grins, clapping his hands together. “ach, my nan could beat the lot of them in her sleep! they’ve got nothin’ on her shortbread.”

as the judging rounds begin, his excitement ramps up. his favorite contestant gets a compliment, and he yells, clapping loud enough to startle you. “there ye go, lass!” he hollers, and suddenly, he’s grabbing you by the shoulders, shaking you in glee. “did ye see that, luv? she’s bloody brilliant!”

by the time they’re announcing the star baker of the week, johnny is practically holding his breath, eyes glued to the screen. when they call her name, he jumps up with a whoop, fists pumping in the air. “yes! that’s it!”

before you know it, he’s pulling you into a bear hug, lifting you off the couch in his excitement. he plants a big, wet kiss on your lips, grinning so wide it’s infectious. “didn’t I tell ye? she’s got it all—best baker in the lot, no question.”

you laugh as he sets you down, his enthusiasm contagious. johnny love for the show might be loud and over-the-top, but as he flops back onto the couch, arm still around your shoulders, you can’t help but smile at just how much he’s gotten you invested, too.

── .✦ 𝗀𝖺𝗓

at first, kyle watches the program with an easy, relaxed attitude, barely reacting when the contestants present their bakes. he stretches out, arms resting behind you and smoothing down and up your nape, all while nodding along when you explain the technical challenge, giving little more than a shrug in response.

but as the episode goes on, his interest starts to show. he sits up a bit, leaning in every time the camera shows off a new dessert. when a contestant presents a towering lemon drizzle cake, his eyes light up. “could you make that?” he asks, an excited glimmer sneaking into his voice. “i’ll buy the ingredients and clean everything up, promise.”

you snort, but he’s already pointing at the screen, his tone downright eager. “what about those cinnamon rolls? look at the icing on those.” he’s watching you now with a hopeful smile, like he’s a kid at a bakery window. “come on, love, just think of the smell. i’ll even be your sous chef—whatever you need.”

by the time they’re onto the show-stopper, kyle is all in, leaning forward as contestants knead and roll their creations. every new bake has him asking if it’s something you can try: sourdough, brioche, even the elaborate pastries. “we could have a whole buffet,” he says, only half-joking. “imagine—warm, fresh pastries every day. i’d never go back to store-bought again.”

when the episode finally ends, he’s scrolling through a recipe app on his phone, jotting down a list of things he’s ready to buy. “alright, love,” he says, grinning as he gives you a playful nudge, “you bring the talent, I’ll bring the supplies. deal?”

with his enthusiasm—and his promises to handle cleanup—there’s no way you can resist, especially when he’s looking at you like you’re the star baker of the night.

── .✦ 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝖼𝖾

you’ve just settled into a new episode of the great british bake off when john wanders into the room, curious but clearly trying not to look too invested. he stands right in front of the tv, thick arms folded across his chest, watching with a thoughtful frown as contestants start their signature bakes.

you chuckle, leaning forward to get his attention. “love, if you’re gonna watch, at least come sit down. i can’t see a thing.”

he raises a brow, glancing over his shoulder with a little smirk, but he doesn’t move. so, grinning, you reach over and give him a playful smack on the butt with one of the pillows, laughing as he finally grumbles and takes a seat next to you. he watches intently, nodding every so often and making small, approving sounds whenever someone does a particularly good job.

it’s not long before he’s making comments that surprise you with their accuracy. “you know, the rise on that dough’s spot-on. smart move not to rush the proofing,” he says, as if he were one of the judges himself. when a contestant uses too much sugar in a caramel glaze, he clicks his tongue in mild disapproval. “that’ll be sickly. just needs a touch less.”

you blink, impressed, and maybe just a little bit...turned on. “you know a lot about baking, captain.”

he shrugs, scratching his beard with a faint smile on his lips. “just some bits i've picked up,” he says, casual as ever, though you can tell he’s enjoying himself. then, after another thoughtful hum as he watches a contestant start their showstopper, he glances at you. “could give it a go myself, if you want. just say the word.”

you beam, practically bouncing as you loop your arms around his neck “yes! let’s do it!”

he chuckles at your enthusiasm, his hand squeezing your hip gently. “alright then,” he says, a bit amused, a bit serious, “but you’ll have to help out, and no slapping my cake when i’m concentrating.”

banner credit

[1864reruns]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ౨ৎ monster trio & kissing

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ2024 ©1864RERUNS

includingㅤ━ㅤmonkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, sanji vinsmoke

tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, gn! reader, sfw, fluff?, what constitutes as fluff idk girl, established relationship w/ zoro and sanji, luffy is a secret third thing i guess?, stray 'kms' threat in sanji's part

from vyon. big up to alex turner and no. 1 party anthem; luffy's is marginally longer because he's my most specialiest boy and he deserves special treatment and i struggled way too hard with characterising sanji in a relationship aside from all the embarrassing simping stuff, he's just amazingly pathetic, i don't wna talk about it, the main star here is luffy

like a lot of other things, kissing comes easy to luffy. though he's never had any couples around him as he grew up, he's been on enough adventures to catch a number of couples share a few quick pecks here and there. sabo's once mentioned kissing as well— a sort of distant memory that comes back when your lips first land on his cheek on your supposed first date. it might be sabo's fault, or his parents, that luffy believes kissing to be bleugh before he's tried it. though in sabo's defence, there wasn't a child in the world that would want to see their parents kissing. still, it isn't as bad as sabo made it out to be, luffy thinks as his wide–eyed gaze follows you back onto the sunny. there's something in the shape of your lips sunburnt onto his cheek, crisp just underneath the scar he'd gotten as a child.

the old scar is a smudge between a burning hypersensitivity and a cold unfeeling stretch of skin; your lips brush against the scar and it tingles itself into simultaneous death and rebirth. burning, melting— luffy presses a hand against his cheek and feels full. then his lips pull into a grin and the burn of your lips spreads out, pushing through every fold of skin as his hand reaches out for the sunny and he flings himself into the air, allowing the feeling to crawl through sinew.

luffy is no stranger to touching— he does it in painstaking excess, but there's a childhood teaching in him that kissing is not the same as touching. he stares at nami for a while, wondering if the instinct to feel her is the same as it is for you; she gets annoyed by his unwavering stare and swats at his head. he decides it's a no.

kissing is meant to be con... consumption? conservative— constellation? no, it's one of those 'c' words that he doesn't really remember, but he knows that he's supposed to ask you if you want him to kiss you. he doesn't understand the idea of waiting for permission but he'd really hate it if you were grossed out, like ace once told him would happen if kissing happened unconventionally(?) (that's not right he thinks), so he asks you one day.

as simple as he gets, luffy comes up to you and asks. "do you want me to kiss you?"

you splutter in shock and you hear movements on the deck still. luffy thinks he'd maybe forgotten something that the people in foosa village taught him but he waits for you to answer anyways. it doesn't come because sanji is aiming a kick at his head and shouting at him about the delicate intricacies of romance and courting. through all the dizzying flips of colour as he jumped away from sanji's attack, a kaleidoscope of the things he loves the most (the sea, his ship, his crew) in his eyes, he sees the hesitant embarrassment that colours your cheeks in. the burn that you've placed in him sparking up a fuse between the two of you at the slip of his tongue against gums and he laughs, swinging away and crash landing on whatever usopp was building out of sticks.

you return to him at a more private time, slip up next to him wordlessly— he doesn't say anything so you fear that he'd forgotten.

"do you still mean it?" your shoulder knocks against his.

"mean what?"

you turn to look at him, your eyes flickering down. "when you asked if i wanted you to kiss me."

that gets his attention, his head turns to you with a flexibility only he has— his eyes blinking at you carefully. "i did, did you make up your mind?" his lips pulled up into a grin, "you want me to kiss you now?"

you wish he had a less abrasive way of asking, but the answer is the same regardless. you nod and luffy takes.

you're not sure what you're expecting at this point. you know how luffy is about psychical touch, he's no stranger to it— everything he's ever known, he's ran his hands over. the amount of times you've been knocked down to his reckless habit of flinging himself into your back, you expect the same thing here.

luffy inspects you for a moment, the corners of his lips pulling down before twitching into a pout, "it's not gonna hurt, silly, why'd you look like that?" he shifts his body to face yours, his knees knocking against yours as he pushes his face closer.

then, his lips stretch outwards— his damn devil fruit— and it's so comical how his puckered lips pulled towards you to press gently against your cheek that you're laughing when it snaps back into place. luffy laughs along with you for a moment. a gooey comfort strained inside of you, your hands pressed against his cheeks— you find a simple joy in pulling his face, and then you find a better joy in leaning yourself closer to press your lips against his.

you're giving so luffy takes. he shifts onto his knees for better leverage to lean into you— the movements are stiff and careless. he's less kissing you and more just pushing his face into yours but you can feel the strain of his smile against your lips so no matter. being luffy, he pushes and he pushes greedily until your hands move from his face to the deck to keep yourself from falling.

it's so stupid how, even though this sucks, you want to make an occupation of kissing him.

it becomes a habit for him to kiss you no matter how far away you are by taking advantage of his devil fruit. eventually, he does get better; you realise why after a pointed comment from robin that hints to the fact that he'd asked her for kissing tips.

zoro is all lingering touch, heated spaces, and fizzling affection. it's not often that he gives you the pleasure of being skin close with him— not that you mind. he's eye candy enough, grunting and sweating in a handstand with barbells methodically placed on his feet and boxes of miscellaneous supplies for added weight. he's never been the type to need the world in his life; everything he's done has always been to prove a sick something to himself, to his strength.

his devotion is similar. there's no place for prying eyes in your relationship when there's you, the fulfilling adoration, and zoro. sometimes, there is also his swords and other times, there is an overwhelming luffy (who knows no boundaries).

he's always more forgiving with you, but he draws the line at excessive pda and you respect that boundary. fleeting contact has never been zoro's strong suit, he's an all or nothing soldier so when it comes to kissing, he likes the ready privacy that allows him to indulge. so he ignores the pointed staring, how you've made yourself comfortable on the benches in the crow's nest; your body sprawled out following the curve of the seats as your face turns red from how you have your head hanging off the cushioned planks.

he grunted, turning his head back down to the floor before he loses his balance.

you start counting, "one, two, three." he's well past those measly numbers but he lets you do as you please. "four, five, one, three, sixty–five, twelve, two, negative five, twenty, fourteen, nine—"

he folds his legs down against his chest, letting the weights fall to the floor with a thud. "alright," he straightened up, "you've made your point." an unimpressed look crosses his face.

your lips curled up into a grin and then you pull yourself up, throwing his towel at him. he takes the hit to the face and presses his hand over the fabric to wipe away the sweat and falls next to you, sliding his body down for his head to lay on your thigh.

"ewwww," your face scrunched up, "you're sticking to me." his hair is clinging to his forehead, interrupted strokes of green paint against his temple.

"shut it."

a laugh is quiet on your lips as zoro falls into the comfort of the moment, his eye closing. you trace over his face and then you crane yourself down, ignoring the ache in your spine and neck, your lips fall onto his forehead, "one." you counted. then onto the space between his furrowed brows, "two," his nose, "three". over his eye, "four." you pull back just in time to feel his lashes scratch over your lips.

a heavy judgement in his eye, stern and serious— he curls an arm up to press against your nape and pulls you down. there's a weight that's tethering you to the moment in the curves of his arm and a light–headedness that makes the stillness burst at the seams as zoro ignites everything alive. it's a slow and careful thing, how his head rises to meets yours and then how it tilts so he can slide his lips onto yours.

his arm drags across your neck until you feel moisture in the contour of his calloused hand, fingers pushes into your hair as zoro leans back from your lips, humming. "five." he says, a whisper of a smirk on his lips. a flicker of tender violence in how he fists your hair at its base and pulls your head back to give himself access to your neck. all or nothing, you're reminded, he drags this kind of simple affection into long, several moments.

he continues counting, picking up where you left off until you both hear luffy calling for zoro to help him fish and your relationship mellows back down, protected in loud secrecy.

there's always a strange line to tread when it comes to sharing intimacy with sanji. he's the quickest to melt when it's passing pecks, a second touch of your chapped lips against his cheek.

it depends on the atmosphere of the moment. just as quick as you can puppeteer him to pliant stuttering, sanji is more than capable of wearing you down to your barest core with his appreciative methodical gestures.

what everyone else is most familiar with are the fast moments of sanji softening when you offhandedly touch him. a simple smile on your lips as he gracefully sets your plate down in front of you, ease in the way your head turns to face him and you give his cheek a grateful peck, a quick kiss against his lips when you're splitting ways upon docking on a new island. it's enough of a spectacle that luffy makes the same laughing racket when you kiss sanji casually to see him twirl with new founded energy and hearts in his eyes; that zoro has a trademarked insult ready on his lips whenever it happens; that nami owns a jar that sanji has to put money into whenever he starts his weird dance.

it's almost easy to forget how sanji reciprocates. love has always been a second language to him— it's burrowed in his every unhurried moment when cooking, it's a burn that drove an abscess in him when he was younger, it's straightened postures and the clean lines of his stature for every perverted thought that plagues him. his every move carries an echo, a drumming confession that rings i love you, i love you, i love you until the words are bleeding raw into each other and you feel undeserving in his passion that stinks of cigarette smoke.

the disturbance of the lit end against a clear canvas of blue skies, his arms folded over the handrails of the sunny, the strokes of grey smoke that taints the pristine clouds that rest languidly; a rigid lock on his features until you're brought to his attention with your shoes clicking against the deck. his face shifts into something more delicate— full of feeling that's different from his usual excitable manner.

"bad for you," you begin with a light–hearted scold, plucking the cigarette away from his lips. he turns to you, his back against the handrails.

his restless hands search for touch and find an answering comfort on your skin, turning up and down over the shape of your hips until his thumbs dig into the waistband of your bottoms. "don't," he pleads, "you know it kills me when you're disappointed."

your lips turn upwards, "should i cry?"

"please." his voice wavers between a weak warning and aching desperation as his head falls onto your shoulder, pulling you closer.

the smell of smoke is cauterised into his skin— you don't mind it and you don't mind him smoking, but you think it's funny to act like you do if it has sanji like this. his hair scratches against your skin, tickling an itch he'd placed in you long ago and you thread your straying hand into the strands as his fingers press demandingly into your hips. following your motion, sanji turns his head to look up at you.

a furrow in his brows and a plea in his eyes.

"you know i'm teasing," you lean down, pressing a kiss against his lips as an attempt to appease him, "but you know i'll have to kill myself if chopper comes and redirects his disappointment at me again." you sigh, weary at just the topic. "i mean seriously, he looks at me like i'm the one shoving cigarettes into your mouth and forcing you to inhale."

sanji tries to focus on your words but your lips have left him cold when you pull away; suddenly, being skin to skin isn't enough and he's trying to placate the greed that is curdling inside of him. it works for the better half of a second, his thumbs pull out of your waistband and his arms wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other dressed against your back.

he ducks his head down and settles his craving.

sanji is gentle all around, careful to make even his affections palatable. he starts slow, testing waters that he's skinny dipped in previously and when he finds no rejection, he moves in deeper. he's a lifelong hunger that can never hope to be satiated when close to you, unwavering in a promise that has wedding bells ringing deep in your bones.

there's a new memory of a life he wishes for you, brought to life and fed by the taste of you. for now, he has to pull away as the ship rocks into a tempestuous sea and panicked feet disrupt the echo of the bells. nami starts to shout orders. he pulls away. his heart stutters in time with the unpredictable storm. sanji trips over his feet on his way to pull up the sails and he starts twirling when it makes you laugh.

[crazyvik97rpg]

William really had a lot of questions indeed - wanted to know how long it would take, how long Sebastian would need to stay. Three or four days seemed like a standard amount of time after a procedure - still, he wasn't looking forward to it. First of all - Sebastian just wanted this surgery to be over as soon as possible - successfully. Ah...

But the doctor sounded really reassuring and like it really was just a standard procedure, easy and quick. Sebastian was worried about the aftermath too, but William seemed to have an idea already, mentioning a pressure sleeve he had to wear and all that. No doubt his beloved had researched a lot. Sebastian had done some research but...probably not nearly as much as William.

Missing some parts of his body, even ones he couldn't see or actively need felt...strange too. His body would need to adjust and that was scary to Sebastian too. But one thing at a time. The clock was nearing 1:30pm and after some more questions Dr Cole was eventually joined by the anesthetist and some more nurses. A black haired man, briefly introducing himself as well, as Dr. Sullivan. He'd be administering Sebastian throughout anesthesia and the surgery - so he was in good hands.

And speaking of hands - the nurses had some stuff in theirs, for prepping Sebastian for the upcoming procedure. He was asked to lie back down on his back, then they proceeded to mark his arm - Dr Cole drew some marks around his right arm and parts of his chest and collar bone area. Then, the nurses checked his vital signs - blood pressure, heart rate, Dr Cole also made sure his oxygen levels were appropriate. IV placement was already done earlier so a nurse only asked Sebastian whether he wanted a mild sedative, to help him relax a little.

Well...that couldn't hurt.

All of that going on around him felt scary - but as the nurse placed the sedative as an IV-bag and plugged it into the cannula on his hand, it took effect fairly quickly. Sebastian turned his head towards William and smiled a little. Well then...

"Alright...", Dr Cole said, "The sedative should work soon, so you won't be as nervous", then she turned to William, "I would say the procedure in total should take 3 to 4 hours, until Mr Michaelis will wake up", she said then, to William, "We do have designated waiting areas, if you want to wait there. Mr...", she looked at her clipboard, "Spears? Is it?"

"Yes...", Sebastian answered with a nod, to confirm, "I wrote him as primary contact on the-..."

"Ah, yes- right, on the list, yes", she smiled as she spotted that on her documents, "We will inform you then, once he is in recovery. You can follow us to the operating room, the waiting room is right close-by".

Sebastian heard his bed click a few times then - the nurses started rolling it. They had turned off the breaks. Oh god...it was starting so soon? Good thing he had that sedative, he hoped it would work soon enough. He turned his head, looking for William.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes. 

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times. 

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?” 

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them. 

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

[swiftieblyth]

Mrs. Cameron: Chapter 1: Engagement

warnings- obx

“Hey, baby,” Rafe smiled, walking up to you at the country club.

“Hi, honey,” you smiled, sweetly smiling up at him, as he wrapped his arms around you, catching your lips in a quick kiss.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I missed you.”

“Baby, I just saw you,” he smiled.

“It was like two hours ago,” you pouted, jutting your lip out, and looking up at him, making him chuckle, as he sat in the chair next to you.

“I was just out with boys, baby. I wasn’t far at all.”

“I know.” You smiled, leaning into his side. “You’re sweaty.”

“I know. I’m sorry, baby. It was really hot out there today. How about we go back to Tannyhill and I take a shower before our date?”

“That sounds great, Rafey.” You smiled.

🌊💰🌊

You got back to Tannyhill and walked hand and hand, into the house. “Hey, Y/N,” Rose smiled, as she saw you walk in with Rafe.

“Hi, Rose.” You smiled.

“Oh, incoming,” Rafe, mumbled, as he heard his youngest sister running in.

“Y/N!” Wheezie smiled, running up to you.

“Hey, Wheez,” you smiled, letting go of Rafe, and wrapping her up in a big hug. “How are you?”

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Wheezie, don’t you have homework?” Rafe asked, trying to get you back all to himself.

“It doesn’t make sense,” she shrugged.

“How ‘bout I help you?” You asked.

“But, what about our date?” Rafe asked, a slight pout on his lips.

“It’s fine, Rafe. I’ll help her while you shower, then we can go on our date, okay?”

“Fine.” Rafe sighed.

“I love you,” you smiled, getting on your tiptoes and giving him a sweet kiss. 

“I love you too,” he mumbled.

“Okay, so what’s this homework, Wheez?”

🌊💰🌊

“Okay, so that means that the answer is b?” Wheezie asked.

“Yep, that’s right,” you smiled, just then you felt arms wrapping around your chest. You looked up and saw your boyfriend standing behind you, though he was looking at you, you could see the distant look in his eyes.

“Hi, Rafey.”

“Hi, baby. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

🌊💰🌊

“You okay?” You asked, sitting in his truck as he was pulling into the parking lot.

“What?” He asked, knocking out of the daze he was trapped in.

“Was it your dad again?” You asked, resting a hand on his thigh as he softly nodded. “What now?”

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, putting the car in park. “Let’s just go enjoy our night.”

“Rafey,” you pressed, seeing the tears in his eyes.

“Please?” He begged, his voice shaking as a tear fell.

“Oh, my poor baby,” you let out, feeling your heartbreak as you pulled to your chest, holding him in his arms. “Did he hit you again?”

“Not this time,” he choked, crying into your chest.

“Then what happened, baby?” You asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” he let out, pulling away and trying to look presentable. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Hey, look at me,” you let out, cupping his face in your hands. “Look at me baby. We have all the time. Do you want to talk about it?”

“It’s just the same stuff.” He let out. “I just want to make him proud, Y/N. I just want him to love me.” “I know. I know baby. I’m sure he loves you, he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“No, he doesn’t. And he’s not proud of me.”

“Well that’s his mistake, baby. I love you so much, and I am so proud of you. You’re my favorite person on earth. You know that right?”

“I love you, baby.” He let out, falling back into your chest.

🌊💰🌊

“Thank you,” Rafe let out as the two of you were walking on the beach, watching the sunset.

“For what, baby?”

“For always being there for me. For loving me. I don’t deserve it. I’m sure I’m hard to love. Yet you’re still here, and you still love me.”

“Rafey, are you kidding?” You asked, looking up at him. “You are not hard to love. You make it so easy. I love you so much baby, and you do deserve it. You deserve every good thing that comes your way. And I love you more than you could ever know.”

“Marry me?” he asked, looking down at you.

“One day, Rafey,” you laughed. “Besides, our wedding’s been planned to happen since we were kids.”

“I mean marry me now?” He asked, getting down on one knee.

“Rafe?” You gasped, tears coming to your eyes. “Are you kidding?”

“I’m not honey. Darling, I want to marry you right now. I love you so much.”

“But aren’t we too young?”

“Who cares? Screw that. I don’t care if we’re young or not because I love you, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Besides, it’s not like it really matters because our parents are going to have us get married anyway. So what do you say baby. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You yelled, getting down and jumping on him, knocking him to the sand, kissing his lips. He let out a small groan as he landed on the sand, but continued to kiss you.

“You gotta let me put the ring on, baby,” he laughed, pulling away.

“Oh yeah,” you laughed as you watched Rafe put the ring on your finger. “You know this is really gonna piss them off.”

“Then that's just another good reason to do it.” He smiled, get them back at their own game.

“Gosh, I love you, Rafe Cameron.”

🌊💰🌊

“You’re getting married?” Sarah and Wheezie said in unison as you and Rafe broke the news to your families. 

“We’re getting married!” You smiled, sitting on the couch holding Rafes arm tightly waiting for your parents' reactions.

“This is the best day of my life!” Wheezie yelled, jumping into your arms, making you laugh. “You’re like officially gonna be my sister! I mean you’ve always been like my sister, but now it’s official! When’s the wedding? Where are you two going to live, will I be able to come visit?” “Wheeze, Sarah,” Ward cut in, making you tense as Wheezie pulled out of your arms. “Why don’t you guys give the adults a moment to talk?”

“But Dad,” Wheezie started.

“Come on, Wheeze,” Sarah let out, grabbing Wheezie’s hand. “Rafe and Y/N need to talk to the parents.”

“You’re getting married?” Your mother asked, the second Sarah and Wheezie left the room.

“Yes,” you let out, trying not to show your nerves.

“This is insane!” Ward cut in. “Do you understand how big of a deal this is? You two are just kids!”

“We’re adults Dad!” Rafe let out.

“No,” Rose cut in. “19 is barely an adult.”

“But we can legally get married,” you explained, looking at your parents with pleading looks.

“What makes you think this is such a good idea?” You dad asked.

“Because we love each other, sir.” Rafe explained, gingerly lacing your finger together.

“Just because you love each other doesn’t mean you can just run off and get married just because it’s legal.” Ward cut in.

“Well it doesn’t really matter Dad!” Rafe yelled, standing up, getting close to his father. “It doesn’t matter because you arranged for our marriage when we were just kids, so whether we love each other or not it doesn’t matter because the four of you are going to make us get married anyways!”

“Rafe,” you breathed, not wanting this to escalate.

“You’re just pissed that Y/N and I actually love each other, because you don’t care if we love each other or not, you just want what's best for you and your reputation, so of course you’re pissed that we want to get married now, because it would look bad on you! But the great Ward Cameron can’t afford to have that! He can’t afford to have his son disappoint him again, to make him look like an embarrassment! But guess what Dad, that seems to be all I ever do!”

“Rafe,” you let out, grabbing his hand.

“You’re high right now, aren't you, Rafe?” Ward asked.

“No, Dad!” Rafe yelled, at this point you weren't going to stop Rafe, because you wanted to punch Ward too for what he just said. “And if you even cared you would have noticed then I’ve been clean for a year now all because of Y/N!”

“Okay, how about we all just calm down,” your mother let out. 

“I think that’s a really good idea,” Rose let out, as you and Rafe sat down. You could feel just how tense he was and held his arm, rubbing your hand up and down to try and calm him. 

“I understand where you kids are coming from about it not really mattering because you two are arranged,” your dad let out. “But have you really thought all of this through?”

“Yes sir,” Rafe explained. “I love Y/N so much, and I know I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I know that we’re young, but I just know this is right. Sir, your daughter has been the best part of my life, and she has helped me through so much, and if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t be sober. Sir, please, I promise to love and protect her for the rest of my life, and to do her right and treat her well, sir. May I please have your blessing to marry your daughter?”

“You two are going to do it no matter what we say, aren’t you?” Your father asked.

“Yes sir,” you cut in. “Besides, it's not like you can really say anything. You and Mom did the same thing when you were 18.”

“Well, she does have a point there,” your mom smiled, giving you a wink.

“Okay, so if you two really do this then where would you two even live?”

“I don’t know that yet sir, but I promise to find the perfect place for your daughter.”

“They can stay at Tannyhill.” Ward let out, making everyone look at him in shock.  

“What?” Rose asked, standing up, looking ready to revolt. “They’re going to be staying at Tannyhill?”

“Why not?” Ward explained. “Rafe already has his own wing of the house practically. Besides Y/N’s over all the time, so it won’t be like anything changes.”

“Are you sure about this Ward?” Your dad asked.

“I’m sure, Scott. If the two are going to get married anyways that might as well have our blessings and a place to stay.”

🌊💰🌊

Wedding day

“Wake up!” Wheezie yelled, running in your room and jumping on top of you.

“Off,” you groaned, fluttering your eyes open. “Wheeze, what time is it?”

“It’s like 9!” She let out, laying down next to you. “Come on! It’s your wedding day, it’s time to get up!”

“Oh my gosh it’s today!” You smiled, bolting up and checking your phone. You opened it and saw a text from Rafe.

Rafe-

Hey baby, I miss you already! I can’t believe we’re getting married today! I can’t wait to see you walking down the aisle this evening! You’re already so beautiful and I’m sure that dress you picked is magnificent and I can’t wait to see it my love! I love you more than you ever know, and much more than I could ever say. I can’t wait to be husband and wife tonight! Counting down the seconds until I see you and make you my wife! I love you 

You couldn’t help but smile a school girl crush giddy smile as you read the text.

“Gross,” Wheezie groaned. “Did my brother text you?”

“He did.” You smiled, looking down at the girl laying next to you. “You’re gonna have to get used to it, honey. I’m about to move in with you,” you smiled.

“I know! I can’t wait! Just don’t do anything gross while I’m around.”

“And what would you count as gross?” You asked, rolling on your side to get a good look at your soon to be sister-in-law.

“I don’t know. Just like anything, all lovey dovey and stuff.” 

[jelzorz]

195a.

It starts on a Wednesday.

It's any other Wednesday. The on-campus coffee shop is emptier than usual because everyone's still away for the winter and the new semester won't start for a few weeks yet, but someone has to man the coffee machines while the undergrads are away and, well. Soren could use the extra cash.

It's a lot less glamorous than what he used to do. Going back to school had sounded like a good idea when he was working shit hours and too much overtime as a hospital physiotherapist, but now he's poor again, and he's still working shit hours and too much overtime. Now he serves coffee to stressed college students and exhausted academics while he fills his spare time with books about business and money and legal stuff that makes his brain hurt, and for what? The idea of his own clinic is so distant. So small. Some days it feels good to study, to start fresh. On others...

The smell of dark roast is clingy but Soren breathes it in sometimes just to stay awake.

The kitchen is warm today, stuffy and humid in spite of the January chill. Callum is making eyes at Rayla from the till while she busses tables in the dining area, and it's as disgusting as it is sweet because neither of them seem to understand that the obsession goes both ways. Ezran is humming to whatever hipster song is playing over the work speaker while he stacks the dishwasher, and Soren is dusting chocolate powder over someone's almond milk mocha when it begins.

"Opeli! We haven't seen you in ages! How've you been?"

Soren glances up and thinks his heart stutters a little. There's a woman at the counter. She looks tired, but her eyes are bright and kind and striking in a way that he knows he'll be up tonight thinking about their exact shade of blue. The hood of her coat is bunched up around her ears like she's only just now pushed it back, and there's still flakes of snow on her shoulders and in the caramel of her hair.

She is, in a word, beautiful, but a really old-world kind of beautiful; the regal, fairy-tale kind that might have had him wearing her favour into battle if she let him in a other life.

"Well enough," she's saying, adjusting the strap of her handbag. "Your father tells me you and Ezran are enjoying your time on campus."

Callum shrugs, but he grins as he answers. "There are good days and bad days. I think Rayla's signed up for your class next semester."

"Has she?" The woman—Opeli—chuckles. "I'll go easy on her, shall I?"

"Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

"You took my class last semester," she laughs. "You tell me."

Callum has the decency to flush a little. "Not if you declare it, right?"

"So you were paying attention," she teases. "Don't worry. I won't quiz you any further. Just a latte with an extra shot of coffee please."

"Coming right up," says Callum. "Soren, did you get that?"

Too late, Soren realises he's been staring the whole time, and that the cup of coffee he's putting the final touches on has a whole extra layer of chocolate powder over the top. "Uh." He swears and dusts his hands. "Yup. One latte with an extra shot. Got it. Won't be a minute."

The woman gives him a look that definitely doesn't wither under and jerks her head at a table by the window. "I'll just be over there," she says. "Say hi to Ezran for me," she adds to Callum, who nods and slides her order receipt across the bench to Soren.

It's not that Soren believes in that kind of attraction at first sight. It's that he's had a bit of a dry spell since Corvus and this is the first time in ages that anyone's caught his eye. Opeli is—

Well. She's older than him, he's sure of that, but by how much, he can't be sure. There's just something about the pull of her smile and the lilt in her voice and the impish little light in her eyes that makes Soren want to talk to her, just to bear witness to all those things over and over again.

He finishes off the last order and then starts hers with a flourish, topping it off with his best latte art (a swan, as graceful and pretty as she) and when Rayla comes to take it, he shoos her away.

"Isn't your turn for a break?"

Rayla raises an eyebrow at him. "I've been here an hour."

"Oh," says Soren. "It's just that Callum's about to go on his and you usually go together—"

She flushes. "What are you implying, exactly?" she snaps, just a tad defensively. "I don't time my breaks with his. Why would I do that? Just because we go together downtimes—"

"Oh, my God, Rayla. I don't care. Do you wanna join him or not?"

Rayla presses her lips together, then scowls at him, red-faced, and slams the tray on the counter before she stalks away to find Callum anyway. Soren tries not to snort and sets the latte on it, pleased for the opportunity for a little privacy.

Opeli is tapping away on her laptop when he gets to her, and he sets the mug and the tarts on her table with a smile.

"One double shot latte for the lovely lady by the window," he says, throwing in a bow for good measure.

Opeli raises an eyebrow at him, amused. "Thank you," she says primly. "Is this how you bring over everyone's orders or am I simply lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one for making your acquaintance," he says, winking.

Opeli laughs and shakes her head, sardonic but charmed all the same. "Very smooth," she comments drily. "If a lot a cheesy."

"These are the jokes, take them or leave them." He grins, smarmy and stupid, and even if she's not interested, he likes the way she smiles, so he takes the win. "You know Callum and Ez?"

"I'm a family friend," she says. "And you are?"

"Soren, your friendly neighbourhood barista, at your service." He draws the chair across from her, and when she doesn't object, takes a seat. "You teach here?"

"A little," says Opeli. "Feels like I do admin more than I teach these days but haggling with the university about what is and isn't part of your job is part and parcel, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that's so cool," says Soren—and he means it. "Well. Not the haggling part. Although, I totally get that. Before I came back, everything was a fight."

"Back?" she asks.

Soren shrugs. "Yeah, just doing some extra stuff, trying to stay relevant and develop professionally and all that." He waves her off. He shrinks a little when he spots Barius behind the counter, craning his head over the line and obviously trying to find his staff. "Listen, I uh—I gotta get back over there but um. I'd love to like. Have a proper talk. Sometime I'm not the one making the coffee. Would that—can I see you again sometime?"

She chuckles. "I'll be around," she says cryptically. "Thank you for the tarts. How much do I owe?"

"Oh." Soren twitches his lips. "It's on the house."

She blinks, then smiles, then sips her coffee. "Thank you," she says. "It was nice to meet you, Soren."

"Same to you. I'll um. See you around?"

Opeli hides her chuckle behind the rim of her mug. "Perhaps you will."

It's not the most straightforward answer, but it certainly doesn't feel like a rejection either. Soren grins to himself and slips the tray under his arm as he heads back to the counter.

Some days it feels good to start fresh. He thinks this might be one of them.

[superscourge]

how do you get people to take notice of your commissions? ive been at this for five or six years now and can count the number of comms ive gotten on one hand lmao

WELL this is always rly hard for me to answer bc it really depends on So Much Shit... 😭

like for one thing a lot of it is genuinely luck. like. luck in terms of who sees your work and wants to buy it at the same time mostly? BUT ALSO, this can be helped a bit by How you increase your reach--reach is very important if u wanna sell comms.

ive found what worked for me is drawing fanart, which i know feels like a cop-out to a lotta ppl but it honestly works! and by attracting attention with fanart ive been able to get more eyes on my work and increase the chances of getting a bite :]

another factor is unfortunately following, but that relates to ^ reach and attention on ur work so i dont feel like i need to rly dive into that again x'D

customer service is important too imo. like, how nice and pleasant and easy u are to work with :3 ive worked hard to be really approachable and easy to work with so i think this plays into things. i want ppl to wanna work with me again yknow? if the experience is pleasant then theyre more likely to return <3

one last thing is that like...hmm how do i word this. the appeal of ur art does matter to Some degree i think, but not as much as i think ppl assume? like ok. there are ppl with insanely detailed and intricate work that looks incredible like painterly masterpieces but they are Unable to get commissions bc of some other factor like lack of reach or something. then there are ppl with really simplistic art styles that may seem significantly "less quality" than the painterly masterpieces from the other person but they get commissions out the wazoo. so while i think you do have to have some level of appeal with your art, i dont think its the Only Thing that matters bc like i mentioned ppl dont always care abt how the art looks in terms of "quality" PLUS art is very subjective and one thing could look insanely good to one person but it looks like shit to someone else yknow? so i dont like to place a lot of emphasis on this.

in relation to ^ this, i think popularity matters to Some degree sometimes. i do know ppl who have kind of "lower-quality" (i hate saying that) work compared to others but still get an insane amt of comms bc theyre way more popular. ppl want to say they own a piece by this popular artist yknow? if that makes sense??? so just reiterating its not always about how the art looks, sometimes its other stuff in addition to it

uhhhhh gosh. i hope Any of this was helpful, like i said this is always an extremely difficult question for me to answer bc again things that work for me do not work for everyone because we make different things and are different people! i consider myself EXTREMELY lucky to be able to get the amount of comms i do (i do this for a living; commissions are my Only income which is why i put so much emphasis on them) and i know a lot of people cannot achieve this sorta thing and thats rly sad but its not always completely in our control :(

but i wish u the absolute best of luck and i hope things pick up for u in the future..!!!

[black--sun]

He starts to raise his brows as he looks over to meet Shiro’s gaze. “Good. You have enough going on without having to worry about that. I hope he’s not.” Shiro is fragile enough without another boyfriend turning on him. “You could have someone check up on him.” He snorts, even though it’s not funny at all. “But you already know that.” If Shiro hasn’t done it already, it’s because he doesn’t want to know.

Ichigo tilts his head listening and then he nods. “You’ll get your life back. And you’ll get an answer about your cop one way or another. Either he’ll turn on you or he won’t. Everything will go back to the way you had it, just hopefully with fewer people trying to kill you. It’ll just take some time.”

“Right.” He’s barely listening as he button the jeans. “Next time sharpie.” Is there going to be a next time? It actually seems pretty likely if they’re going to attempt a friendship or work together.

He considers what he’d do with a maid. He doesn’t need the kind of services Shiro’s talking about often, but he can sympathize with a family trying to stay together. “Send it to me. I can find something for her to do. Normal stuff.” And if he ever has anything less normal come up, he can go from there.

Ichigo finds a mirror and decides his gun would still be out of sight and maybe he found the right outfit on the first try. Though Shiro still has a lot of great clothes. Ichigo looks over. Shiro never explained his clothing stinginess that directly or Ichigo wouldn’t have given him such a hard time about it. “Makes sense.” It’s not the first time he realizes they were probably running around the streets at the same time. Shiro trying to stay alive or stay high, and Ichigo trying to find a murderer. He wonders how they would’ve clicked if they’d met earlier. But Ichigo was so angry and defensive back then. He had a lot of walls. They wasted a lot of time not knowing each other.

Ichigo moves back to where he left his harness. The knife gets tucked into a boot, but the gun isn’t so easy. He pulls the sweater back off to buckle his harness on with the gun in its place before slipping it back on. The sweater doesn’t hide all of the straps, but it looks more like a sex thing than a legitimate piece of equipment, so he’s not worried about it. All the better to sell his nonthreatening story to Shiro’s men. He looks back to Shiro. “What are you wearing?”

Wandering his own halls by himself isn't exactly new or unusual, but it feels particularly hollow and lonely. He pauses to turn the temperature warmer by a couple of degrees when he passes the thermostat, but he's pretty sure it's not actually cold in his house. It's just him.

He detours to a sitting area he doesn't actually use often. It's used by party guests more than anything. But it has a needlessly large television, which he turns on just to flip through news stations for a few minutes, to see what's being said about him and the car bombing and the shooting. It pays to stay at least semi up to date on current events, especially the events that directly relate to him. He flips channels for fifteen minutes, but it's still so fresh that the stations are still mostly just replaying footage and describing the scene, not speculating or making things up. That'll change, he knows, but for now, replay after replay of what happened isn't really what he wants to see. It wasn't the first time his life has been threatened, nor the first time he's been shot at, but he's been feeling particularly fragile this whole day. He sighs, closes his eyes and scrubs at his face for a second, pushing away thoughts of everything he's got in this mansion that could help him slow down, mellow out. He told Ichigo he wouldn't. But Ichigo's another sore subject to think about.

He pulls his phone from his back pocket, glancing at the time absently as he dials. His on again/off again, not-boyfriend picks up on the first ring, sounding calm, but the kind of calm that comes from professionalism and not true calm. His voice is quiet, making Shiro think he must be either at work or around people that don't need to overhear who he's talking to.

Shiro feels distracted and isn't quite sure why he called. Because he needs a chaperone. Because he's stupid.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He says into the phone for a third time as he steps into his room to finally start digging out clothes for Ichigo.

His bathroom light is on and he pauses, free hand straying to the handle of his switch blade, before it occurs to him that it's probably Ichigo. There's a delay in his response that a cop wouldn't miss. "No, don't worry about it. I'm not gonna stay here." His not-boyfriend sounds worried in that controlled, trying not to sound worried way. It makes Shiro feel guilty as hell, especially when steps to a place in the room that lets him see into the bathroom and he confirms that it's Ichigo. "I dunno, I haven't decided. Might stay at the penthouse for a while, might get outta town for a few days- Yeah, I know... I'll text you, ok?" He waits a beat, then hangs up the call.

[serpentface]

In what context would you have effigies of evil spirits? Or objects carrying curses in general

I haven't really specifically invoked folk religious practices in the Wardi sphere (though a lot of what I've talked about includes it), a LOT of stuff revolving around curses is derived from folk magic traditions.

Folk religion here means magical/spiritual practices that develop out of common practice and may be Informed by religious doctrine but not Controlled by it. The Faith of the Seven Faced God is a state religion, but its broader sphere includes dozens of folk traditions (some heavily informed by and interactive with core doctrine, and some that are very distinct from core doctrine and have developed independently, or are heavily syncretic with foreign practices, older Wardi practices, or those of other native groups).

There's also major separation between the practices of priesthoods and lay folk (even in the urban context in which religious authority is based). This divide is fairly stark across class lines (as the upper classes are heavily integrated with the priesthoods, and Most priesthoods take their members from nobility (with Galenii being the only major exception)). However, virtually all members of society will include Some folk religious aspects in their practice. For example, the wearing of skimmer-woman amulets is Not derived from official doctrine, it is Not a canonical representation of Pelennaumache (with whom it is usually associated) this is just a very widespread folk practice (to the point that many priests wear them too). The Faith of the Seven Faced God is not proselytizing and prioritizes core orthopraxy being maintained (both on a public and private level, but the private levels are not actively policed). So these folk practices are not condemned unless they outright defy/supercede expected elements of practice.

This is the context for a lot of what I'm talking about wrt curses and magical practices outside of official rites. So like, belief in curses and evil spirits is basically ubiquitous in the Imperial Wardi cultural sphere, but folk traditions have unique ways of dealing with these threats (or inflicting these threats upon an intended target) while religious doctrine attempts to address these via blessings and public rites.

So to actually answer the question: a very common folk religious practice is to produce effigies of an offending evil spirit as means of confronting it. Some variants attempt to specifically trap it within the effigy in order to contain or destroy it, others attempt to wield power over it via the effigy (sometimes to destroy it, sometimes to redirect it to another target). Other effigies representing evil spirits in general are used to scare off real ones (the hats of the new years dancers are an example of this that has found a place in official public rites).

Attempts to cast spells and inflict curses usually involves objects as mechanisms. This most commonly comes in the form of writing your intent on a small object (frequently pieces of broken pottery, which is easy to come by) and then burying or hiding it in a secure and relevant location (ie- a curse or love spell might be buried near the home of your target). If it's targeted, parts of the other person's body (most commonly hair, best case scenario blood) will be bound to it in order to direct the spell. Somewhat lazier curse and spell attempts involve scrawling your desired effect onto a public wall as graffiti. The outer walls of temple grounds are sometimes targeted specifically for this purpose in hopes of getting God directly involved (this is Not Condoned, though will not get you executed like defacing the temple itself).

Other methods involve attempting to imbue a nondescript object with the intended curse/spell (often in order to get it close to the target without being questioned). This often integrates aspects of traditional medicine, using the Essence of various items (plants, animal parts, minerals, etc) to imbue an object with their effect (usually while speaking your intended spell/curse. Some folk traditions involve animal sacrifice to work magic- the animal is killed in offering to one of God's Faces (which are often interpreted more like a pantheon in common practice, especially those distanced from religious centers) so that the deity will perform the desired effect, imbue an object with the desired effect, etc. This IS condemned as heretical- official doctrine holds that ONLY priests can perform killing sacrifices, a layman does not have the necessary education and practice to do so properly, and attempting to is at best disrespectful and at worst spiritual defacement to the body of God (which the animal becomes at the moment of death). (Laymen can buy or provide animals to be offered on their behalf, but themselves can only offer their own blood or food/drink/flowers/incense/etc). It's particularly heretical when done to inflict curses - doctrine holds that God does not curse and only maintains order and blesses, curses and other spiritual harm come from being partly severed from God's influence and/or disruption of the body's living spirit (something all people are susceptible to). Laymen (and unofficial priesthoods/sects) sometimes do this regardless in secrecy (and it's very common in rural parts of the region with little access to religious centers), under the belief that this will make their magic substantially more powerful.

Bottom line is there are all sorts of methods to make cursed objects, so it's pretty common that people will find objects suspected of being cursed (or that actually Have been placed with intent to inflict a curse/spell), and in that context need methods of breaking the curse. Blessings from a priest are thought to dispel most common attachments to the body, but this is not always accessible and the object itself must be neutralized. This is sometimes accomplished by simply Putting It Somewhere Else so it becomes another person's problem, but there's a chance that the curse could be highly directed to oneself (maybe bound with your hair or etc). Most practices include a combination of neutralizing, destruction, and purification. Neutralizing is done via deflection (like the method mentioned in the prev post, though there are many other strategies), at which point the object may be safely destroyed. Lingering attachments are removed through self purification (at the most basic, this is performing one of the gestures against evil and bathing oneself).

The wearing of most apotropaic amulets hope to prevent curses from reaching their targets from the get-go. The pelatoche works to deflect the evil eye and minor evil spirits and curses, the phallus imbues masculine protection of the sanctity of the body, transforms bad luck into good, and threatens reprisal for curses. etc. These kinds of amulets are worn on all levels of society, but tend to be relied upon more fully by the upper classes (which are more closely looped in with the priesthood/state religion). Someone like Janeys wears at Least one pelatoche amulet constantly for protection but thinks most other folk-magic attempts to dispel curses are silly commoner superstitions, any harm that cannot be prevented by this sort of protection needs an official blessing and purification to be dispelled.

[anniebass]

high spice tolerance, my ass

(old man smut)

[wyervan]

👁️ 👁️ hey. I love your creepy moon

hey. i think he likes you too.

[muchmossymess]

uh oh guys, hot take alert:

i think revali may have invented hand held aerial archery HEAR ME OUT- (this is a long one boys)

okay. evidence one: why the fuck would a rito shoot like that. like, it makes nearly zero sense, it would be such a hindrance to their flight and their main stake is that they can be higher than you can shoot whilst still pinging you... which revali has overcome with his gale

evidence two: tulin and the concept arts. obviously rito style archery would be held in their talons. before totk came out idk if anyone had really thought about it too much, but the developers had, as you can see in concept art (from the creating a champion book). and like, its logical, powerful, and allows for peak maneuverability. also, when in flight revali (and teba) holds his bow in his talons before switching to his wings. surely its easier to keep it in your wing (obvi ignoring the effects to flight but hes doing that anyway firing the damn thing) rather than switch back and forth- unless you were taught that way, because why would you hold it elsewhere, you need it in your talons to shoot.

evidence three: we dont see any other rito do it (...kind of). throughout botw and totk, we never see another rito flying with a bow in their hands. in totk, its mostly tulin, who holds it in his talons, but in botw the big one is teba. during the medoh quest, he actually gives *link* his bow, and therefore does no shooting in the sky. teba and harth had both tried to take on medoh before, but we never see this, and while they holds their bows in their hands *on the ground,* we dont see it.

...except for aoc (uh, spoilers?). there are two times we see a rito other than revali hold their bow in their hand for aerial archery. but it is not with any rito soldiers, either during cutscenes (the bows are only on their backs) or gameplay (they swoop down, and then hand hold bows on ground. they arent seen flying at all but thats prolly for the same reasons as botw: its very hard to code that (and so they write the lore around that fact)). the first time we actually see another rito do this, we dont see it. Its teba, as he comes thru the portal, but all we see is the arrow shot, and then him freeze frame with the bow in one wing. we dont see the bow in his hand for the rest of the fight. the second time we actually see him fighting like this, it *is* in the air, but its noticeably different to revali.

hes a lot slower, it clearly takes a LOT more effort to shoot the bow, and he only pulls off one arrow at a time. its canon that revalis bow is heavier/harder to draw, and he manages to effortlessly stream arrows whilst fucking floating midair. i think teba, forever a revali fanboy, heard of how the champion mastered his own style of archery and sought to teach himself, but lacked one key thing: revalis mastery of wind.

evidence three point five: revali could easily use his powers to hold him in the air longer/slow his descent long enough for him to fire his shots. it makes sense, really. if he can use his gale to propel him, he can sit on the updraft for a hot sec, or even curve the path to carry him along while he lines up the shot. this would mean he wouldnt need to flap as much as other rito, who would obviously need to keep flying

evidence four: revalis fighting style and his needs. revali works with non rito, obviously. he needs to be able to communicate with them on the battlefield, and they wont understand the muffled chirps if he holds his string in his beak, so he needs his mouth free to speak hylian. also, revalis main tactic is fly up with gale, shoot, fall, either shoot more or use velocity and weight to knock around opponents, and then fly back up. he often needs both feet planted firmly on the ground to get a good hold of his gale, something that is harder to do if you have a bow in the way.

also, take for example the kick he delivers link in their fight (aoc). that would possibly damage the bow, or give the opponent a chance to grab his weapon, if he held it in his talons. and to switch from feet to back is a risky maneuver during freefall, and could lose precious seconds, and then when you get back in the air you need to get it off your back again. its much easier to keep the bow loosely in your wing the whole time, meaning your free to attack melee, land and rise all while not wasting a single moment getting your next shot lined up.

so yeah, i think the rito used the talon grip for aerial archery, and would often use the hand held method on the ground for a variety of reasons (more powerful shots?, easier in some situations like hunting), but revali was perhaps the first to use hand held aerial, another reason he was one of the greatest archers ever.

[themyscirah]

What runs/stories do you recommend for someone starting WW? Could you please be specific (/nicely)

Yeah ofc!

My Wonder Woman Starter Recs (specific style 😎)

First stops: for an initial introduction to Wonder Woman, I'd generally recommend going to at least one of three places first. These three are:

Wonder Woman: Historia: The Amazons by Kelly Sue DeConnick

Wonder Woman: Year One by Greg Rucka

Wonder Woman: the Hiketeia by Greg Rucka

Of these I generally recommend reading Historia first, as it's a retelling of the origin of the Amazons as a race and how Diana came to be (so it essentially starts from the beginning) and is also the most recent of the them (if that means anything). Something to note about Historia though is that it's a DC Black Label book, so it's events aren't strictly canon in the main DCU and there are some changes and new elements present. I don't think this is something that should discourage anyone from reading it though, it's the best WW origin story out there, and even in strict main canon over the years her origin is one that has had many fluctuations and small (& sometimes big) changes. WW:Historia is three prestige format (longer) issues.

You'll notice the third book there is WW: The Hiketeia. Hiketeia is a great book if you're looking for a view into Diana as a professional and experienced hero. It's a graphic novel so standalone and not too long, and has a great Diana and really interesting plot (Diana vows to protect a young woman and finds herself pressed against the wheels of Greek Tragedy). This is also the first work with Diana done by Greg Rucka, one of her most prolific and loved writers. A sampling of this work (and also Historia) I think gives a good guide to where to go next in terms of runs on her main title.

Wonder Woman: Year One is the second book on the list up there, but I'm mentioning it last here as it's a bit more complicated in terms of format. Unlike other year one books, WW: Year One is actually a series of issues on her main title, showcasing Diana's arrival to man's world in Rebirth (and also current p sure) continuity. The issue numbering for this one is strange (only the even issues 2-14 on WW (2016)) so I recommend looking for this in trade form if possible.

These 3 books I think give a taste of some of the best standalone stuff in the Wonder Woman mythos, and give the reader a good idea of where they may want to go next in terms of longer runs on the title. So I'll break that down here as a Step 2.

STEP 2: WHERE NEXT?

Here I break down some highly recommended runs based on what they have in common with the standalone books from step 1. As a rule, these runs are going to be much longer than the above and generally more connected to the wider DCU and other books. Look for the italics to see the introduction to each new work. Explanation paragraphs follow after each italic/bold rec.

Curious about Greek mythology in WW and the Amazons' origins after reading Historia? Liked the prescence of a supporting cast and Diana learning about Man's World from Year One? Willing to read a longer run? I recommend: Wonder Woman by George Pérez

George Pérez's time on Wonder Woman totally reinvented the character after Crisis on Infinite Earths, and is fundamental in establishing many core concepts of her lore. At 62 issues, 2 annuals, and a 4-issue crossover event at the end (War of the Gods), it's definitely a commitment to read, but it's the most enduring and well-loved run on Wonder Woman for a reason--it's just that damn good. Lots of focus on mythology (although with a lighter tone than Historia) alongside Diana learning her role in relation to Man's World & establishing herself as a hero and ambassador. Pérez's run also has almost-certainly the most expansive and developed supporting cast in WW comics, something that really drives the emotional core of the series, especially in later issues. Obligatory note that this series was written between 1987 and 1992 and contains some very occasional aspects that I thought were in some way dated/uncomfortable etc. while reading (details of Cheetah's origin, depiction of the Bana-Mighdall, Hercules) but despite that I still highly, highly recommend this run. The word fundamental cannot begin to describe it.

Liked the experienced Diana of the Hiketeia? Interested to see her attempt to balance the high stakes responsibilities of an ambassador and superhero? Looking for some really badass moments and fights? Haven't read enough terrible tragedy? I suggest: Wonder Woman by Greg Rucka 2003 EDITION.

Some of Diana's coolest moments of all time are collected here. Also one of her most controversial. The 1st Rucka run is very much the story for anyone who liked the Diana of the Hiketeia and the tragedy of that and Historia. 2003 Rucka Diana is a Diana tested, forced to make decisions that are anything but easy, and live with the consequences. She's extraordinarily capable, but her enemies know that and are prepared to that end. This run, along with the Pérez run, rank among my favorite Wondy comics of all time (those and Historia are my top 3). This run is such peak Diana, especially in terms of sheer badassery. Her final confrontation with Medusa is in my opinion perhaps the greatest Wonder Woman fight scene of all time. Her encounter with Athena in the second-to-last issue breaks me every time. Cannot recommend this book more.

*a note abt this run is that it is more context-dependent than the other ones listed here, as it's the run that finishes out the Wonder Woman vol. 2 book and so has some guest appearances from characters introduced in other prior runs (Artemis of Bana-Mighdall, Cassie Sandsmark, and Vanessa Kapatelis, to name a few). I read this run before knowing much (if anything) about any of them, and still enjoyed it a lot, so I wouldn't be worried about this really but just thought I'd mention it.

Rucka's 2003 run is published from Wonder Woman (1987) #195-226. You can also find it in trade and I believe(?) omnibus. Sometimes the Hiketeia is included in collections of this series, as the 03 run is thematically similar in many places, just with a much deeper look at Diana and the world & with higher stakes.

Liked the specific characters and plot threads of Wonder Woman: Year One? Want to see what happens with Diana's exile, or learn more about Barbara Ann? Want a Diana in between the extremes of young and highly experienced? Wonder Woman by Greg Rucka 2016 EDITION may be for you.

...yes I'm putting ANOTHER Rucka book on here. He writes a great Diana, what can I say. This run is the same one that Year One came out of, just the follow ups to that story and versions of the characters. I have this run listed as separate from Year One though, as there's some really big time skips since the events of that first volume. A lot of time has passed since then, and there's more history between the characters, not all of it without drama. This run continues to be weird with the numbering, as well as some artist changes, so I definitely recommend looking into reading this in trade format (physical or digital) if at all possible. My recommended reading order is WW 2016 by Rucka vol. 2 "The Lies" (Wonder Woman: Rebirth Special #1, followed by 2016 main title odd numbered issues 1-11), then Rucka 16 vol. 3 "The Truth" (odds 13-23) then Godwatch (evens 16 through 24) followed by 25? But The Truth and Godwatch combine near the end so that doesn't really work either. This run is so good but recommending it is such a pain because the numbering is so all over the place. On God I never know which order to read this in. Going to revoke my previous statement and say read it as Rebirth Special 1, then only odds 1 through 11, then from 13 through 25 normally. That may lead to some weirdness as you read because the two stories take place at different times and have different art styles, but they come together at the end pretty dramatically so I think it's less confusing to read it this way? Maybe? So strange bc this is one of the go to good starter runs and yet it's set up so unintuitively. If someone has a better way to read this then let me know and ill edit, ik this explanation is super confusing bc neither way to read it is totally ideal imo and I feel I definitely read it in a weird order.

Going to call that a good rundown of some of my greatest recommendations in terms of Wonder Woman comics. If anything wasn't fully clear here or anyone (not just anon) has questions or wants to talk abt WW comics/my choices feel free to send as many asks or dms as you want. Have a good day everybody, & as Diana says, may the glory of Gaea be with you <3

[canisalbus]

I just recently started following you so i don't have the full lore of your murderous gay religiously traumatized doggos, BUT, from my understanding, they are Italian and i don't know what part of Italy they are from, yet i can't help headcanoning Vasco as Tuscan, while Machete is probably from some part of Veneto. And as an Italian who has heard Tuscans and Veneto dialet, well it's an hilarious mental image.

Vasco is indeed Tuscan, Florentine to be specific. He comes from a wealthy and influential noble family that has lived in Florence for centuries. He's proud of his roots, and it's usually easy for strangers to tell where he's from. He's a resonably successful politician and has worked as an ambassador and representative of Florence on numerous occasions.

Machete is originally Sicilian (ironically about as far from Veneto as possible), although he was taken to mainland at young age and has lived in several places since then, before ending up in Rome. The way I see it, he exhibits very little local color, his demeanor and (even though Italian hadn't become a standardized language yet) way of speaking are formal, neutral and scarcely give away any hints about his personal history, at least in the 16th century canon.

[franeridart]

going back and rereading from episode 0, so many little hints of just Ross staring at Dave when he asks him his name, a little hint if you’re rereading the Ross is like “dude, really?” And Ross saying he dyed his hair to impress someone he had a crush on 🤭 wonder who it could be all things considered

Ah! I'm so glad you can actually see it rereading! I did my best to make ross's words and reactions as consistent with his different awareness of the situation as I could without making it too obviously weird, it's so cool that people seem to be able to pick it up haha

[not-poignant]

Can I ask, why do you love BL romance better than het romance? What makes them better? I did not mean anything negative, and I know everyone have their own like and dislike but I want to know your thoughts....

Also what do you think that made Asian MLM (BL manga/manhwa/manhua/ danmei) romances better than western MLM romances?

Can I ask, why do you love BL romance better than het romance?

Because I had no choice for many years.

Because that choice was taken away from me by a homophobic, transphobic, queerphobic, acephobic society. So all the romances I read had to be heterosexual, all the romances I watched had to be heterosexual, all the romances I heard of had to be heterosexual.

Because I'm not heterosexual.

Because I never saw myself represented in any stories ever, for over about 20 years (queer stuff existed, but where I was situated in Perth, Western Australia, meant that I was not seeing it).

Because I was force-fed allonormative, heteronormative, heterosexual tropes, bullshit, toxicity, misogyny, patriarchal culture, rape culture and more, and because everyone assumed that was normal, which made me feel isolated, marginalised, alone, and bereft, and cut me out of knowing what a life could look like for myself, and made relationships harder, when you don't have the words or stories to latch onto.

People like me couldn't even be erased out of the media, we hardly existed in the media, and if we did, almost never under our real identities, and almost always having to pretend to be something we weren't, for many people who hated us, or wished we were dead, or simply didn't care about us at all.

So, when I finally got a choice, I made a choice.

And I do not want to read heterosexual content anymore, unless it's queer (like T4T). The only place I actually willingly consume heterosexual romantic content these days is like 80s and 90s and early 00s romantic comedies. It's the only thing I allow through my filter, because so many of them have a really strong bent of hurt/comfort in them, and it's rare to find movies that have this in general.

But yeah otherwise het is just not a thing I look for in fiction. Literally a squick. Literally reminds me of 20 years of oppression in the mass media. It's not inherently bad, it just wasn't good for me personally, to never have a choice.

So I made one :D And my life has been so much better for it. I'm never going back.

Also what do you think that made Asian MLM (BL manga/manhwa/manhua/ danmei) romances better than western MLM romances?

It's just better for me, anon! I find a lot of western published m/m (so not like m/m fanfiction which I still read) often feels stifled and too short for me, and the characterisation doesn't get as deep as I want it to get. I often can feel the rigidity of the novel structure on authors who are trying to rapid release, and the depth I'm looking for is rarely there. Sometimes that's what people want! Sometimes they don't know there's other options!

Sometimes that's true of some BL manga/manhua/manhwa etc. as well. Tbh it's probably true of a lot of it! Serial format doesn't always allow for depth either. But I find the visual format easier to read as well. If I reread western m/m it's almost always fanfiction. And tbh, I'm sure some amazing m/m was published last year, I just get tired of having to wade through it all to find something I like. It got to the point where I was reading like 60+ titles just to find one average read, and I gave up.

The recommendation systems for BL tend to be better and more on point for me, I find most people who recommend published m/m to me generally always miss the mark (which isn't their fault - I'm particular, there's a reason I write what I write - because I can't find it to read!!), but close friends like @morbidlizard who recommend BL to me almost always hit the mark!

I don't actually read much danmei, but mostly because I haven't had time to really sink my teeth into it. Aside from MXTX, I haven't explored much further.

But yeah, hope that helps! :D

[koreanbibliophilegirl]

What is your opinion about Han Kang winning the 2024 nobel prize in literature? Is she the best representative of Korean literature nowadays?

This took a while to answer, sorry nonnie. I wanted to try making this as informative and helpful as possible- plus I was(and still am) kinda busy with preparing for college entrance stuff😅.

So!!! To answer your question:

The Korean author 한강(Han Kang) mainly writes fiction about human life and resisting violence, or historical fiction dealing with Korean modern history; I'm gonna focus more on the historical fiction side here though.

Her historical novels focus on the mental & physical scars left on Korea during the tumultuous period right after the Japanese Colonial Period & the Korean War, through the eyes of ordinary people whose lives were destroyed by each event. So Han Kang winning the Nobel Prize is super meaningful to us, because it means the world is taking an interest in Korean history, and the pain we went through.

There's a well-known quote in Korea; it was said by the Japanese Colonial Period Independence Activist & leader of the Provisional Korean Government, 김구(Kim Gu).

"오직 한없이 가지고 싶은 것은 높은 문화의 힘이다. 문화의 힘은 우리 자신을 행복하게 하고, 나아가서 남에게 행복을 주기 때문이다."

("The only thing I wish we had limitlessly is high power of culture. For the power of culture brings joy to ourselves, and furthermore gives joy to others.")

This quote means cultural power is crucial in drawing in the world to our side. If other countries enjoy our culture, they'll also take an interest in understanding us, which will in turn lead to them taking an interest in our wellbeing & listening to our voice. In fact, it's happening right now! People are learning Korean for K-Pop and K-Dramas! People are getting interested in Korean culture!! Han Kang won the Nobel Prize for books about our history!!!

So, yeah. I think Han Kang's Nobel Prize is very important to Korea, because we're now one step closer to the world acknowledging the sufferings of our country that previously went unrecognized.

And yes, I think Han Kang's novels are a good representation not just of Korean literature, but of the spirit of Korea as well! A number of her works describe some horrific incidents in our history, and others present a calm sort of criticism on the violence of society. <채식주의자(The Vegetarian)>, one of her better-known works of fiction, is a neat slightly grotesque(?) example of this recurring theme of advocating for peace and resisting violence. (This one isn't about history BTW! It's about a woman resisting the lifestyle of her secular family.)

Both history and peace are especially important themes to Koreans. History, because we're always striving not to let it repeat & not to let unsolved disputes be forgotten. Peace, because we're in constant danger, from being the world's one and only divided country, among other things.

BUT, as many Koreans are pointing out, Han Kang is- though undisputedly very talented- one of many amazing writers in Korea. In fact, I've even heard people say up to 60~70% of Korean authors are likely capable of winning the Nobel Prize, if only their work would be translated properly. I- and a lot of others- think Han Kang's success on the international level is not only thanks to her own stellar talent, but also to her translator, Deborah Smith. Deborah Smith has been translating Han Kang's works for a while now, and her thoughtful translations have been much appreciated. NGL, I've seen so many Korean-to-English translations that suck so bad, so seeing Korean literature get translated by someone who very obviously cares a lot about the text? It was like a breath of fresh air after being stuck in the school auditorium for two hours. (And yes, I have just walked out of the school auditorium after being stuck there for two hours.)

This is a lil besides the point, but this is part of why I'm planning to start a Korean literature YouTube channel after I graduate. So many great works of Korean literature either have low-quality translations or don't have any at all, and I want to introduce those works to the wider world properly.

I still have a few months to go till graduation though, so in the meantime, I hope Han Kang's works, at least, get all the well-earned love and respect it deserves.

Thanks for the ask nonnie, and sorry again for the late answer! Feel free to ask if you have any additional questions- though I'm gonna be honest, I'll probably be late in answering those as well.😅 College entrance preparation is hard haha.

-Lilly xx