#masonic apron

[paulpingminho]

[didanawisgi]

Statue of Metjetji

EGYPTIAN, CLASSICAL, ANCIENT NEAR EASTERN ART

Metjetji, the subject of this statue, is also depicted in the two wooden statues nearby. In this case he is shown in later life, with the long kilt of a senior official and, as viewed from the side, a rather flabby torso. The expensive addition of inlaid stone eyes with copper rims suggests that this was considered the most important of Metjetji’s statues. A large head, big eyes, and very long fingers often appear on statues of this time; here they seem to suggest wisdom and maturity.

MEDIUM Wood, gesso, pigment, alabaster, obsidian, copper alloy Possible Place Collected: Saqqara, Egypt

DATES ca. 2371–2288 B.C.E. 

DYNASTY late Dynasty 5 to early Dynasty 6 

PERIOD Old Kingdom 

PROVENANCE Tomb of Metjetji, southwest of the Djoser enclosure, Saqqara, Egypt

[onlinemasonicregalia]

Symbolism in Style: Exploring Masonic Mark Degree Regalia

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[ineffableigh]

UHhh is it just me or is Elspeth digging up a fucking Mason

edit: SHE DUG UP A FUCKIN' FREEMASON

(pic from googling 'scotland freemason' sorry about that lol) THAT SURE IS PARTICULAR INNIT

"The “All-Seeing Eye,” or Eye of Providence, while not designed by Masons, has been used by the group to represent the omniscience of God."

GOD'S WATCHIN YE ELSPETH

I'm scared

[sturniqlo]

SPILLED WATER- MATT STURN

summary: where pregnant!reader films a video with the triplets and her water breaks and matt is freaking out. BLURB

cw: cursing, panicking(?)

an: lowercase intended

masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"no! the cooking oil! that's y/n's coconut oil!" nick, wearing a chef hat and a white apron, snatches the small mason jar from chris' hands. "what is my coconut oil even doing here?" y/n waddles to nick to grab it. "i went to grab it from your bathroom, i thought nick had said coconut oil." chris explains.

"how'd you hear- nevermind." nick sighs and returns to the mixing bowl. "i don't know where their stuff is!" both nick and chris had came over to matt and y/n's apartment as y/n was nearing the end of her pregnancy and matt didn't want her to be alone in case she went into labor.

"the oil is in the kitchen, genius." matt says, and turns to the cabinet where the oil sits behind. "okay, guys, today we are making a cake from scratch!" nick holds up the empty mixing bowl and talks to the camera. "usually we bake boxed cakes, so we decided to switch it up for todays video. and don't worry, we have the expert here, y/n!" she shyly waves to the camera.

she's been in a couple of their videos and the fans adored her. "guys, y/n makes these really good chocolate croissants, but the boss man nick wanted a fucking cake." chris crosses his arms. "hey, what's wrong with cake? we," y/n points to her face and her swollen belly. "also wanted cake." matt laughs. "thank you, y/n and baby. see, chris, i'm not the only one who wanted cake."

"alright, enough about who wanted cake. let's get this show on the road." matt drapes his arm around his pregnant girlfriends shoulders. "okay, chris, pour in two cups of flour." nick reads off of his phone. "where are the measuring cups?" chris looks around. "ugh! motherfucker look around!"

"don't be mean to chris." y/n walks away from matt's hold and opens the drawer to grab the measuring cups. "thank you-" chris starts off. "it's not our fault he's a little bit different." y/n breaks out into a laugh and nick and matt follow her. "okay, okay stop it! i think i peed a little. she's pressing on my bladder."

"alright now that we have all of our dry ingredients mixed together, we're going to add in our wet ingredients." matt says. "how many cups of water do we need?" y/n asks, a bit in discomfort. she's been having a bit of braxton hicks lately, but her doctor said to not worry. however, these were a bit different but, she didn't really pay too much attention to it.

nick tells her how much and she walks towards the sink and pours it. as she walks back nick gasps. "y/n, you spilled the water on yourself." he points to her stained grey sweatpants. "what? no i didn't, look." she holds up the cup that holds the water.

"babe, your water broke!" matt says with widened eyes. "oh my god!" she sets down the cup on the counter and looks down, sure enough her water did break. "i- i don't know how i didn't feel it." she giggles. "chris go- go grab the baby bag it's in the- in the- fuck- the closet by the uh- the door." matt stumbles over his words. chris doesn't do anything but nod and hurry off to get the bag.

"oh my gosh, she's coming? like now?" nick says, y/n laughs as she can't take him seriously with the chef hat on. "y/n, come on, we need to take you to the hospital!" matt places a hand on the small of her back and leads her to the door.

"matt, baby, wait. i need to change my pants." she turns and walks into their shared room. "what? no, you're fine like this! you're in labor." matt says, running a hand through his hair. "hey, calm down, okay." y/n reassures him and holds his face in her hands. "i'm feeling fine as of now, i think we still have some time until i start getting contractions."

"okay, are- are you sure?" she nods. "i'm sure."

"oh!" y/n shrieks, putting a hand on her back as she stands in front of the bathroom counter. she was brushing her hair until she got her very first contraction. "matt, get the car ready!" she take a deep breath and tries to ignore the pain. "come on, come on! chris has the bag, is it okay if they come?"

"i don't care if- fuck." she gets a strong one. "it's okay, you're okay." he kisses her forehead and walks her out the room. "chris lock the door. her keys are on the table." matt tells chris as nick now holds her and walks her out the door. "how are you feeling?" nick says. "like im about to give birth."

"wait! what about the cake?" chris says.

[tonyspank]

WHO?

Warnings: GN! Reader, fluffy + my poor attempts at humor

Summary: You find out who Jenna Ortega is.

You stand in front of your kitchen counter, watching your monitor as your viewers load into the Twitch chat. You smile watching the chat fly with questions and comments. "Hi, guys!" You wave at the camera, fixing your apron. "Be grateful I'm even streaming this because it was so difficult to get my setup in the kitchen."

You move from the counter to your camera, adjusting it a bit. "There," you mumble to yourself, glancing over to the chat again. "Happy Anniversary." You read off the chat, beginning to smile, "Thank you!"

@coolasacucumber where's babygirl jenna

@teamed28 anniversary??? TIME IS FLYING BROOO

@Versalcool171 why they look kinda cute in that apron

@TggthegreatRede HIIIIII

You move back to the counter, "Jenna isn't here, she's out doing something. But that's good because I'm surprising her with dinner for our anniversary! I have a table set up and everything on our balcony." You tell your viewers. You then look around the kitchen, gathering all the ingredients you need.

Soon a donation message pops up on your monitor and the bot begins reading it aloud. "What does Jenna's farts smell like?"

You pause your movements, standing completely still for a few seconds before moving again. You ignore the question, acting as if you never got it, but the smile on your face gives away your amusement. "Uh, anyway."

You break the silence and continue with your task. You lift up a salmon, "I'm cooking salmon, rice and broccoli for bae." You look up at the chat, watching thousands of reactions appear on the screen. You begin seasoning your salmon with a mixture of herbs and spices, and then place it in the hot pan.

Another donation rings through, "Can you tell us the story of how you met Jenna? I love you so much by the way." You chuckle and reply, "I love you too! Sure, once upon a time..." You say dramatically, laughing at your own joke.

"I was streaming, you know? The usual, then I got a donation."

TWO YEARS AGO

You watch as your screen shows victory, winning another match of Overwatch. Leaning back in your chair, you listen to the donation ringing through your headset. "Have you watched the new Wednesday show on Netflix?"

You furrow your eyebrows as your eyes are fixed on the screen. "Nah, I haven't. Like Wednesday Addams?" You laugh and tilt your head, waiting for the next match to start.

As you wait you decide to check the chat.

@Yuanycat530 Jenna Ortega's in the show

@zenocentric you gotta watch it for mommy jenna

@Momismme3600 its sooo good stg

@amburntfreemansgf MASONS WATCHING STREAM

You sit back up in your chair, adjusting the hat on your head. "Who?" You begin chuckling, completely confused about what your Twitch chat was talking about. "Guys I don't know who Jenna Ortega is."

Suddenly, a flood of messages appear, all talking about Jenna Ortega and the new show she's in. You close out of Overwatch and start sharing your Google to the stream, typing in Jenna Ortega.

You quickly learn that Jenna Ortega is an actress and you begin to recognize her. "Oh, shit. She was in Scream 5 with Mason and David?" You turn your head to the chat before glancing back at the search.

You smile to yourself as you remember the movie. You search in Instagram, looking up Jenna's username, before following her and beginning to scroll through her posts. She was absolutely beautiful; you shock yourself as you can't believe you could forget someone so stunning.

@y/nsdirtysock NOT HER BLUSHING

@amburntfreemansgf IS THIS JOE GOLDBERG?

@mrsasfjerEgads SHES SMILING HELLA HARD

You're knocked out of your daze as your phone begins ringing. You fumble around for your phone, trying to answer it before it goes to voicemail.

You answer it and it's Mason, facetiming you. Mason's face lights up when he sees you. "Why are you going through Jenna's Instagram?!" He laughs and you join in, showing the camera Mason.

"Bro! Chat asked me if I watched her show. I forgot who she was!" Mason grins at his screen, "How could you forget Jenna Ortega?" You shrug and laugh, "I don't know!" Mason laughs again before he places his phone down on his desk, you do the same, rubbing your hands down your face. "Mason join me on Overwatch."

Mason raises an eyebrow, considering the offer. "Sure, but you know I'm bad at this." You smile, loading Overwatch back up. "It's okay, Daddy will carry you." Mason chuckles and playfully rolls his eyes. "Alright, let's see if you can actually carry me this time." Moments later, Mason is in your party, taking a sip of his water.

"My chat says, how did Jenna's profile look?" Mason grins reading off of his live chat on his own screen. You pick an operator, shaking your head. "Tell your chat to stop harassing me," you joke, your smile never fading. Mason chuckles and raises an eyebrow. "Oh, they're just curious. I still can't believe you forgot who Jenna is!"

"Dude! It completely slipped my mind,"  you admit, shrugging. Mason chooses his own operator before walking over to your character and using the "Hello" command. You watch as Mason's character waves and greets your character on the screen. "Imagine if you joined me on Saturday," he says playfully.

His eyes then widen, and he says, Oh, my god, you should join me on Saturday." You can hear the excitement in his voice as he continues, "It'll be so fun, swear, and! And Jenna will be able to make an unforgettable impression." You shake your head, watching your character run to the point.

"Are you trying to play cupid?" You joke, laughing. Mason chuckles and replies, "Well, maybe just a little. But seriously, it would be great to have you there. I'm sure everyone won't mind."

You raise an eyebrow, considering his offer. "Alright, I'll come." You finally agree, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm. Mason grins triumphantly, clearly pleased with himself.

"Awesome! You won't regret it, I promise," he says, glancing at his chat, leaving you wondering what kind of unforgettable impression Jenna could possibly make.

You huff out when D.Va kills you, leaning back in your chair as you wait to respawn. "Chat. If someone gifts 100 gifted subs, I'll tattoo Jenna's face on my buttocks." You joke, a small smirk on your lips.

Mason chuckles, clearly amused by your playful banter. "Hey, don't underestimate the power of your chat. Who knows, you might end up with a masterpiece on your backside," he teases, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly. You laugh along, secretly hoping that no one takes your joke too seriously.

However, as you continue playing, a notification pops up on your screen indicating that someone has indeed gifted 100 subs. Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Ain't no way!"

A FEW HOURS LATER

*jennaortega started following you*

You rise from your bed, clicking on the Instagram notification that pops up on your phone. Ain't no fucking way.

Jenna - So...Saturday? Will a portrait of my face be on your butt?

You - you would like that wouldn't you?

Jenna - I'd prefer somewhere everyone can see Jenna - Maybe your forehead is a better spot

You - lol, how about we get matching ones then? You -that way when we kiss we can really make it look like we have four eyes

Jenna - Kiss? Who said anything about kissing? Jenna - I'm not that kind of girl 🤨

You - oh, so what kind of girl are you? ;)

Jenna - The kind that doesn't appreciate these cheesy pickup lines

You - ooh, dairy free You - completely understandable You - from now on i will acknowledge that

Jenna - xxx-xxx-xxx Jenna - Text me on IMessage

You - yes ma'am! 🫡

Reacted ❤️ to your message.

ONE YEAR LATER

"Chat, I'll let you know I just woke up. Don't mind this..." You say, motioning over your face, as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes. "Sorry if I seem out of it. It takes time for my brain to boot up."

You don't notice the way your chat freaks out about the hickey on your neck, as your focus is still on trying to fully wake up. The hickey, a remnant from last night's passionate embrace, remains unnoticed by you for now.

@h5therx is that a mf hickey

@TheGrapeNinja WHO WAS SUCKING ON UR NECK

@twizzy1 @TheGrapeNinja BLOOD THIS AINT EVEN MY NECK????

"Valorant, or Overwatch?" You ask, finally glancing over at your Twitch chat.

You notice a flurry of comments in the chat, with some viewers teasingly pointing out the hickey on your neck. You pause, staring at the chat, before quickly covering your neck with your hand, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"Brooo, I didn't even know I had this," you mutter sheepishly, rubbing your hand over your neck.

The chat explodes with laughter and playful comments about your unexpected love mark. "Is she going to hear a word out of me." you mutter to yourself, talking about your girlfriend as you begin realizing that even the smallest details don't go unnoticed by your loyal viewers.

"Enough about my hickey! Pick a game!" You jokingly yell at your chat, reaching for a hoodie to cover up the mark. As you put on the hoodie, a donation comes through.

You pause for a moment, glancing at the donation message. "You said you were going to play Sims last stream. Don't worry about the hickey, we're just excited to see you play!"

You chuckle at the comment, grateful for the support and understanding from your viewers. With a smile, you reply, "Alright, alright! Sims it is then! Let's be delulu and create our dream life."

You start up the game and glance over to your chat. "Have you guys ever, like, gone to bed with like a thought or try to preload your own dream? Like, I be going to sleep with a specific idea or scenario in mind, hoping it will manifest in my dreams. It's like I'm trying to program my subconscious to create the perfect dream."

You pause, waiting for your viewers' responses, curious if anyone else has tried something similar.

@ricoottv Yes bruh I be dreaming about Gal Gadot dominating me fr

@24kGoldenRing @ricoottv 😨😨😨

@QuannMeline YESSSSS

As the chat starts flooding with responses, you notice that many of your viewers have indeed experimented with preloading their dreams. Some share their success stories, describing how they have had incredible adventures and even found solutions to real-life problems in their dream scenarios.

Others admit to having mixed results, with some dreams turning out exactly as they had hoped while others took unexpected turns. Excitement builds as everyone exchanges tips and techniques, eager to unlock the full potential of their dream worlds.

"I'm glad I'm not the only one." You chuckle and begin creating your Sim, carefully customizing every detail to make them as close to your ideal self as possible. You then put your face-cam side by side with your sim and ask, "Do they look like me?"

You wait for responses from your viewers, trying not to laugh at the potential comparisons they might make.

@tuneskixx it looks like u if u were mentally unstable

@47SH5T Y/N if they were off crack

@k0hjuh EWWWW

@Shaun Why the sim kinda 😍

"Me if I was off crack? Nah, that's wild." You say, rereading one of your subs chat. "Go to the gallery and find your love interest?" You read off, raising an eyebrow. Intrigued, you decide to take a break from creating your Sim and explore the gallery to see if there's a perfect match waiting for you.

There's a search bar, and without hesitation, you type in "Jenna Ortega." You eagerly scroll through the results, hoping to find a Sim that resembles Jenna Ortega.

Some of them look like her, and the others are far off, but you settle on one that seems to capture her essence the best. Excitedly, you click on the Sim and download it into your game.

"Guys, why does this actually look like Jenna?" You exclaim, unable to contain your excitement. "Yoo! They even have her cleft chin. But to be honest, Jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin, it only appears when she smiles or makes certain facial expressions."

@amburntfreemansgf nah bro a Jenna Ortega specialist

@AlexVsJay "jenna doesn't really have a cleft chin it only appears when makes certain facial expressions" 🤓☝️

@Shaun @amburntfreemansgf LMAOOOO

After adding a dog and cat to your household, you start your sim life as Jenna Ortega, her being your wife. You immerse yourself in the game, navigating through your and Jenna's daily activities and adventures.

"What the fuck!" You shout at the screen, your chat begins to fill up with messages at the sight of what's happening.

@mynames_jeff POV last night

@amburntfreemansgf sorry y'all jenna thought that was me 😅

@ricoottv OMGOMG

"Ya'll, I didn't tell them to do this! They real life just hopped out of the hot tub to make out." You tell your chat, watching as your sim and Jenna's sim kiss passionately. The unexpected display of affection between the sims surprises and amuses you, causing your chat to explode with laughter and comments.

You're so immersed in the game that you don't notice Jenna creeping into your room, a plate of cookies in hand.

@amburntfreemansgf BE SO FUCKING FOR REAL

@n6huh JENNA?????&1'

@t8lyer_44 I KNEW THEY WERE TOGETHER

@AlexVsJay Y/N has now becomepublic enemy #1

She sets the plate down on your desk, causing a wave of delicious aroma to fill the air. The smell wafts towards you, distracting you momentarily from the chaos happening on the screen.

You jump when you turn your head and see Jenna standing there, a smile on her face. Your eyes widen as you shut off your camera. "I'm live!" You say, forgetting that your stream can hear you. Jenna's eyes widen.

You two have been dating for quite a while, but you didn't tell anyone about your relationship.

"Do you think they saw me?" Jenna asks, her voice filled with concern. You shake your head before shrugging, "I don't know, baby. Shit, this is my fault. I should've told you I was live."

A donation rings through, catching both of your attention. You glance at the screen to see a message from a viewer, "Uhhh...the mic is on. Anyways, hi Jenna!" Jenna's face flushes with embarrassment as she realizes that your viewers heard everything.

Your jaw drops, and you decide to turn the camera back on again since it seems like the damage has already been done. You take a deep breath and address the viewers, "Well, I guess there's no hiding it now. Yes, Jenna and I are dating."

Jenna looks at you nervously, unsure of how the viewers will react. You continue, "We wanted to keep it private for a while, but that was kind of difficult." Jenna sits on your lap, waving at the camera. "Hi, everyone." You chuckle nervously, trying to ease the tension.

"We hope you all understand why we wanted to keep it quiet," you add, trying to reassure both Jenna and the audience. "But we also didn't want to hide something that makes us so happy." The viewers' reactions start pouring in, a mix of surprise, support, and curiosity.

Curiosity also makes its way to your and your girlfriend's faces as your Sims start to Woo-hoo in the hot tub. "Is...that us?" Jenna asks, her eyes widening with a smirk playing on her lips. You cover your face with your hands.

"Ain't no way, bruh." You mumble to yourself.

Another donation rings out, "DON'T ACT LIKE YALL WASN'T DOING THAT SAME STUFF LAST NIGHT. WE SEEN THE HICKEY!"

"AIN'T NO WAY!" You shout dramatically, causing Jenna to burst out laughing, covering her mouth with her hand to muffle the sound.

[girls--complex]

This is the 12th dimensional Traum that swims inside of the hyperkosmic sun and here are her attributes

6 arms and 6 wings and 4 legs (10armlegs)

Solar halo

Antenna for making intercession and listening to cosmic rays

Yaupon and Bettony wreath for wakefulness and healing

Scales for Justice

Vajra for Discipline

Sword for Truth

Masonic Apron for mastery of ritual technology

Serpent tail that is beheaded and ever bleeding open wound that is topped by the star Acrux that symbolizes the perpetual renewal of human-nature thru apophatic withdrawal.......

Top hands are engaged in Worship

Lower hand reaches to You

[cher-rei]

27 w trent :)

date night [ T.A.A ]

I like the way you stare into my eyes [soren– beabadoobee]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: date night? but on a baking show? and he's flirting with you?

genre(s): flufffffff

[wc: 1.9k]

notes: my little take on lando's chicken shop date a few months ago xxx

baking up chemisty: date night. that was this evening's episode and you were all too excited because of the guest that the director was able to reach out to. you'd had your fair share of football players on the show and it was so much fun.

it was a fan favourite to have you bring out a different side to the usual personal football players put up on camera, so it was highly requested. just last week you baked a horrible excuse for a lava cake with marcus rashford which was all too fun.

not too long after the episode aired, twitter was blowing up over the interaction and thanking you for having him as a guest wherein fact it should be the other way around. viewers loved that you didn't shy away from any of your guests and praised you for the chemistry you tended to have with them instead of keeping it formal.

so when the guest of this week's episode was announced, you bet that the show had a trending hashtag again.

you stood in front of the camera, behind the counter of the kitchen-styled set that felt so close to home. you accounted for all the ingredients on the counter one last time before it was quiet on set, everyone's eyes on the director.

"action."

"good evening everyone." a smile set on your lips, "and welcome back to 'date night'!"

from the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of this evening's guest who had you feeling a little more nervous than usual. "tonight, we have a very special guest joining us, a football star known for his skills on the field and his charm off it."

a hearty chuckle came from him off-camera that sent your heart leaping but your eyes remained on the camera. "and before anyone asks–" you sighed in mock disappointment. "no, it isn't mason mount. trust me, I tried."

behind the camera once again, there were a few laughs that lightened the mood of the studio. that's what you loved most about it– the atmosphere and how there wasn't a set script. when you were hired, your director, lewis shaw, gave you one clear instruction– "go with the flow."

and that's exactly what you found yourself doing for every shoot. having genuine conversations with your guests and keeping the atmosphere lighthearted and entertaining. it helped a great deal in making it less suffocating, and more rewarding.

which is why you loved your job so much, being a presenter was one thing. but being given the freedom to do as pleased as long as you do it well was a privilege.

"please welcome trent alexander-arnold!"

the studio was filled with cheer as they greeted the right back as he made his way beside you, adorning a bashful smile and the two of you exchanged a friendly hug that you tried to keep as professional as possible.

after the formalities were set aside it was time to properly start with the segment, and to do so you quickly grabbed something from one of the cabinets and handed it to trent who was more than familiar with what was in the box.

he mocked a gasp and delicately held up the black apron. it wasn't just plain, however, on the right pocket side there was your name and his embroidered beneath it with a heart.

"I've never felt so special my entire life," he said teasingly. "I can't believe I have matching aprons with everyone who was on this show."

you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment. it was customary that everyone got an apron with a similar design, only with their name on it. you shook your head to the side and bit back your smile as you looked at him. "yours is different though."

trent cocked his head to the side amused. "oh really?"

you gestured to the apron, "there's a heart on yours, and–" you fished something else from the cabinet and held it up proudly, "we're matching. you're the only guest I have matching aprons with."

a chuckle left his lips once again and you felt something tug at your heart. he was standing beside you so casually, amused by an apron and your quips and you couldn't help but wonder what it looked like from the viewers' perspective.

soon after you were done putting your aprons on, you began with the interview part. eager questions and playful answers leaving your mouths as if it were just the two of you in the studio. " I have to ask. have you any experience in the kitchen? this is a safe space, don't worry."

he looked down at the rolling pin in his hands and gave a lopsided smile. " I'm afraid not. I'm more comfortable on the pitch than I am with a rolling pin."

it was your turn to laugh, your hands absentmindedly adding the dry ingredients into the bowl while trent passed them on. "I mean we're only baking chocolate chip cookies. I'm sure you'll be fine."

he leant in a bit closer, watching carefully as you measured the amount of baking powder to add in. "chocolate chip cookies are actually a favourite in my family. a close friend of mine once baked a batch for a family movie night and ever since then my mum and brothers see it as an essential when she comes over."

a flush of pink rose to your cheeks instantly but you tried to play it off and cleared your throat. "wow she must be really good then."

trent shrugged his shoulders with a flick of mischief in his eyes. "she's okay I guess."

you glared at him from the corner of your eye and handed the bowl to trent so that he could put it in the mixer with the slow adding of the wet ingredients. "well then, what's your idea of the perfect date?"

you listened as he hummed in thought, adding to the whir of the mixer until it was done.

"I think just spending your time with someone special you know? it doesn't have to be anything fancy. just good company and good conversation."

his answer prompted you to nod in agreement. "I'm heavy on the good company part."

the space between the two of you decreased immensely, as you were now standing flush against his side while gathering the batter and putting it onto the cooking tray.

"oh really?" he questioned suddenly which caught you off guard. "what do you look for in a partner?"

your head quipped to look at him with your eyebrows raised but he innocently continued with putting the batter down. a scoff left your lips. "I'm supposed to be interviewing you right now."

"interview?" he asked and spared you a quick glance. "I thought this was a date, love."

you froze in your spot, unable to fully comprehend what was happening because all you wanted to do was wipe that smile off his face. but you had to carry on. once again you found yourself clearing your throat, watching as trent took the initiative to put the tray in the oven.

"well then?" he asked.

"I'm not picky." you walked over to the sink and put some soap on your hands while he did the same. "just someone genuine and passionate. I need to feel loved, not just be in love. and how about you?"

a low hum echoed from beside you and he put on the tap and rinsed the soap from them. he locked eyes with you and grinned, "someone who can keep up with me, both on and off the pitch. and maybe someone who can bake a decent batch of cookies."

you playfully rolled your eyes. "well I think most people can manage that. so, what do you value most?"

unlike yours at the moment, trent's expression softened and before you knew it your hands were in his beneath the running tap, lukewarm water having no match for the feeling of his hands on yours.

"honesty and trust," he looked up at you with his nose scrunched. "and a sense of humour never hurts."

you looked up at him with your eyes slightly squinted, sharing a moment of silent communication, but I know something that will.

not too long after, the episode wrapped up and you bid your goodbye to the viewers until next week, while also thanking trent for joining you for the evening.

he was more than delighted to be as modest as he could and waved it off with a, "the pleasures all mine. we should really do this again sometime."

it took a lot for you not to roll your eyes at him but you remained professional until you heard the director yell, "and cut! that's a wrap, well done, everyone!"

at that. your shoulders relaxed with a heavy sigh. this was by far the most stressful episode that you'd ever filmed, which completely went against your original statement.

you watched as the rest of the camera crew flooded to the break room, leaving you and trent alone on set. when it was all clear you turned to look at him with your lips pursed.

"one job. you had one job," you said blatantly but he couldn't suppress his smile, his hand instinctively finding yours on the kitchen counter and putting it in his.

your eyes bored into his, the sound of a familiar laugh leaving his lips before ge placed a gentle kiss on your hand. "you wanted chemistry and I gave you chemistry. I think I did my job very well actually."

"oh really?" you quipped sarcastically but that wasn't enough to get at him, in fact it only amused him even more.

the space between you lessened in a matter of seconds, his hands were now draped around your waist and slowly reaching for the back of your apron that was still on. he nodded in agreement and continued to gently untie your apron.

"but what did you expect?" he asked again and placed it on the counter. "how was I supposed to act natural around you? you're literally my girlfriend, so this is natural for me."

you couldn't bite back your smile anymore, not with the excited gleam in his eyes. "but you could've toned it down a bit, trent."

his eyes widened slightly and a quick peck was placed on your cheek. "tone it down?" he shook his head at your response, saying that he was being way too obvious but he didn't care. you'd been together for nearly 3 years, so he'd be more than delighted to have people finally find out.

"and miss the opportunity to tease you like this? baby you were an absolute blushing mess and I enjoyed every single moment."

no way you were blushing that much. you refused to believe it, and said that it was just his way of trying to embarrass you right now. you pulled away from his grasp and began to pack up your things, your boyfriends loving gaze watching you as you complained about his behavior.

he wasn't really paying attention, but he loved seeing how riled up you were and considered this as payback for every single day that you've been together that you've had him blushing like an idiot. it was only fair that he got you back eventually.

"I really wished that we had mason mount on today," you muttered and his smile immediately dropped.

"woah there," he interjected in disapproval and you turned to look at him with your arms crossed. "but we had fun today!"

"yeah but I would've had fun with mason too."

"incorrect."

your eyebrows raised at trent's sudden quip, "you can't just say--"

"wrong," he interrupted again with a smile, watching you from the other side of the counter."

you shook your head to the side as he made his way to your side, the same cheeky smile plastered on his face. "you're such a child I swear."

he hummed contently and took your bag, using his free hand to hold yours as he usually did. you felt another jolt in your stomach, the swarm of butterflies only worsening when trent pressed a light kiss to your temple. "it takes one to know one, love."

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Part 3!!!

Tag List: @jaytriesstuff @jackiemonroe5512 @netflixisacopingstrategymom @finntheehumaneater @redhoodandhellfire @blackpanzy @blu3stars @goodolefashionedloverboi @strawberryyyenthusiast @bebopbabyy @forest-fogg @silenzioperso @lololol-1234 @thestarslittleking @lingeringmirth @moomkin77 @dragonmama76 @mentallyundone @salty-h0e @sapphireoceansoc @geekyfifi @sirsnacksalot @subversivecynic @rebellatio-03 @thelittleclare @pinkrabit @thelittleclare @jamieweasley13 @just-a-tiny-void @strangeforest @hunterbow04 @fiddledeedee85 @bookworm0690 @pinkrabit @grimmfitzz @irregular-child

…

Steve went to school on Friday with a pleasant pep in his step. He’d be leaving early at 1:30 for work and then leaving work at 5 to go officially move into the trailer. He’d have the whole weekend off to get properly moved, to.

People still eyed him in the halls. They still whispered and they still looked. And yeah, it wasn’t with the same respect as it was before. But Steve found he didn’t care. He stopped by his locker, number 276.

Nancy and Jonathan were already there, both leaning against the lockers and talking quietly.

Steve didn’t say much to the two of them. He’d put away what he didn’t need in his locker and then simply went to first period.

.

There wasn’t ever much to say about school. Sure it was different from his home life, and yes it was different from his work life, but it wasn’t anything special.

It stopped being special when he decided to stick with Louie nearly 7 months ago now.

He left at 1:30, as he usually did. He typically got Nancy or Jonathan to stop by and grab the work he’d be missing for him so that he wasn’t absolutely failing.

At work, Steve couldn’t stop glancing at the clock. A couple of the regulars— Abby, a sweet lady in her thirties, and Mandy, a sassy black lady in her fifties— congratulated him on the new trailer and tipped extra.

Steve was positively vibrating with nerves his entire shift. Every time he went back to pick up an order from Mason and Gwen they shot him cheeky grins and gave him claps on the shoulders.

Everyone could see how excited Steve was, and his moods were usually rubbing off on everyone anyway.

When 5 finally hit, Steve hung his apron, counted his tips, and gave everyone the usual goodbye hugs and high fives. Mason held on a little tighter than usual and even gave him a little spin that had Steve leaving in high spirits.

He took his usual dinner and baby Louie out to the car, talking excitedly to the small child all the while.

“We finally have a new home, Louie! Aren’t you excited baby? You’re gonna sleep in a bed, and sit on the couch, and have floor time!”

Louie babbled back just as excitedly. Steve was giddy with joy.

The trailer park wasn’t too far from the dinner. It was a good 5-7 minute drive, tops.

But by the end of the night Steve had officially moved into number 2718 New Bird Ave.

.

The first night was as rough as expected. The previous occupants left behind most of their furniture so Steve was left with a couch, a bed, and an old dresser that was ready to topple.

Steve took the smallest bedroom, it was barely bigger than his old closet but the tight fit was comforting in a way. He moved the mattress from the left-behind bed into the room, leaving the frame. It wouldn’t fit through the door despite being just smaller than a twin.

Steve took Louie around the trailer, holding him close and happily showing him everything there was to see.

“And this, my dear baby, is the kitchen. I’m gonna get real nice curtains and a small table. I’m thinking yellow curtains. Whaddya say Lou-Lou?”

Louie babbled excitedly and gripped Steve’s hair.

“I’ll take it you like yellow. Me too.” Steve smiled brightly.

The kitchen took up the entire front of the trailer. The windows were large and nearly floor-ceiling and already had blinds set on them. They let in plenty of sunlight and gave a beautiful view to the other trailers and the woods surrounding the park. There was a pantry where he could eventually set up a washer and dryer. And a small area between the pantry and windows where he’d be able to fit in a table and maybe three chairs.

“Now—“ Steve let Louie down on the floor and crouched right behind him, holding him up. “—this is the living room. This is where we’re gonna listen to music and dance and sing.”

Louie immediately started babbling and gurgling, wiggling and bouncing in Steve’s hold. Steve laughed.

“Exactly baby! Dancing just like that. You get your moves from your daddy don’t you hunny?”

Louie gave his best belly-laugh that had Steve scooping him up and holding him close.

“You’re such a sweetheart, Lou-Lou! You’re my sweetheart aren’t you, babyboy?” Steve smothered kisses across Louie’s face and grinned when the baby laughed and pulled his hair.

.

“Alrighty, Louie. What to do now, huh?”

Steve had propped Louie carefully on the couch. The baby sat watching him closely, and vaguely tried copying Steve’s hands on his hips. Steve grinned.

“Do you wanna go to the store? We can see about getting you an actual crib.”

Louie stared blankly.

“You’re right, you’d just end up sleeping with me anyways. What about a new bed for us then, huh? Something that’d actually fit in the room?”

Louie made a squeaking sound.

“And plans have been made!” Steve declared, throwing his arms up. His hand his the ceiling but he didn’t mind the pain when Louie copied him and threw his hands up as well.

“To the store we go!”

.

Steve was pushing Louie around the store in a stroller he’d found in the baby section. Yes, he was going to buy it when they went up to pay.

Why hadn’t he bought a stroller to begin with? It was so much easier than carrying around the car seat.

Little Louie was babbling away and reaching for just about anything they passed. However, he made a particularly loud squeal when Steve passed a certain bed frame. Steve paused and looked it over with Louie.

It was a simple white twin with a high headboard and a low, almost not there bottom board. It almost looked like a wooden princess bed.

“That one?” Steve asked Louie.

Louie answered with a gargle of spit and his fingers in his mouth. Steve grinned.

“That one.”

.

Putting the bed together was the biggest pain in the ass Steve ever had the displeasure of going through.

He’d never been a strong reader. And he’d always needed visual help references in front of him for him to learn properly. The instructions provided pictures that Steve was confident he himself could’ve drawn better.

“I mean look at this sh— crap. I’m sure you could’ve drawn something better, huh bub?”

Louie gurgled and nodded sagely.

The bed was put together with much failure and cursing and input from baby Louie.

Steve stood back with his hands on his hips and snorted delightfully when Louie copied him as best he could with his baby hands. The bed was done and Steve’d finally out the mattresses on. Now he got to sleep in it.

.

Steve entered the back door to the diner in a flurry of limbs. He was pushing the new stroller he’d gotten Louie and was desperately trying to hold open the door at the same time.

Gwen rushed to help, grabbing the stroller and baby Louie and pushing him into George’s office. Steve sighed in relief and let the baby be taken while Mason helped him with the diaper bag.

When they dropped off the bag and baby in the office Steve was surrounded by Michelle, Gwen, and Mason.

“So? How’d it go, kid?” asked Gwen with a cross of her arms.

Steve grinned at them, baring his teeth and gums in a way that showed his giddiness in full force.

“It’s a nice place. I got a bed set up and Louie likes dancing in the living room with me. Isn’t that right bubba?”

The baby in question immediately started bouncing in place on his butt. Steve laughed and picked him up. Louie continued bouncing in his grip, dancing his best baby moves.

“Just like that, lovebug!”

Mason and Gwen cooed.

“You got those moves from your daddy, huh sweet thing?” Mason teased, poking a finger into Louie’s side. Louie grabbed it and messed with the ring there.

“You are just the sweetest freakin thing ever!” Gwen cooed in a baby voice.

.

And for a month it went like that.

Steve and baby Louie got settled into the trailer nicely. They filled up the living room and bedroom with Louie’s toys and as many pillows as Steve could afford.

Back at his parents’ house, the pillows his mother bought were only for show. They were only there because they had looked good. Steve bought his pillows because he liked them. Because they were pretty or cute. Because they reminded him of people he knew. Because they simply caught his or Louie’s eyes.

They got the curtains for the kitchen— a soft yellow with white stripes. Steve hung them while Louie had floor time a few feet away in the living room.

During the month they settled in, Nancy had been watching Louie every Wednesday and Thursday after she got out of school so that Steve could take the closing shift at the diner. She’d watch him early Sunday mornings so that Steve could take the opening shift.

And they built a steady routine.

It was mid-morning on a Friday. Steve was buckling Louie into his car seat and humming Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears to himself when a loud thunk vibrated through his car.

Steve righted himself immediately, hitting his head on the roof of the car in the process. While he rubbed the back of his head to soothe the inevitable bump he turned and came face to face with 2 kids barely older than 9.

They stared up at him in silent fear. Steve saw the offending ball rolling somewhere down his driveway— they must’ve hit the ball into his car while playing.

Steve didn’t think. He simply jogged down the driveway and into the street to retrieve the ball. Then he jogged back to his car and handed the little girl the ball. She took it hesitantly.

“You two alright?” Steve asked gently.

They both nodded. Steve was starting to get a little freaked out.

“Um—“

“We’re really sorry!” the girl suddenly shouted.

Steve startled. “Oh! It’s—“

“We didn’t mean to hit your car, the ball kept bouncing and it wouldn’t stop!” the boy explained. The girl nodded.

Steve huffed and put one hand on his hip. “It’s alright, seriously. Look: no damage done, see?”

And true to Steve’s word, there was no damage done to his car, just a mark from the mud caked onto the ball.

“You’re not angry?” the boy asked hesitantly.

Steve smiled sweetly and shook his head. “No, I’m not angry. Just be careful next time, someone else is bound to be angry.”

They nodded in sync. Baby Louie spoke up at that moment with a gurgled babble.

The kids’ heads snapped to the back seat in scary unison, the girl’s blond pigtails bouncing.

“Is that your brother?” she asked, setting the ball in the grass by her feet.

Steve chuckled. “No, he’s my son. His names Louie,”

He stepped aside and let the kids peer at the car seat. The boy grinned.

“Hi, Louie! I’m Noah!”

The girl smiled sweetly and held her hand out for Louie to grab. “I’m Casey! I’m the older twin.”

Steve watched fondly. Louie didn’t get to interact with many people outside of him, Nancy, and they people at work.

“Noah, Casey! What are you two doing now?” Came a call from behind them. Steve turned with the twins to see an older lady walked over to them.

“Gran, look! He’s so cute!” cried Casey.

Noah and Casey made way for their Gran to look at Louie. Little Louie seemed to be thriving in the sudden attention, babbling nonstop and grinning his gummy little smile.

“He’s quite the charmer indeed.” Gran agreed with a nod and smile. “Now, come along you two. Let this young man leave.”

Noah and Casey turned to Steve with a simultaneous “Bye!” before running off with their ball to the trailer next door. Gran sighed.

“It’s nice to finally meet the new neighbor. I’m Margaret, Margaret Bottomette. Those two are my grandchildren, they usually come over for weekends and breaks.”

Steve smiled at the lady, Miss. Bottomette.

.

Miss. Bottomette and the twins became a new constant in Steve’s life alongside the middle schoolers he’s forced to cart around occasionally.

Noah and Casey are sweet kids, albeit feisty. They come over to the car every time Steve’s out, whether he’s with baby Louie or not.

And it’s sweet, is the thing. It brightens Steve’s day just that much more when he sees the beaming smiles on their faces while they play with Louie or while he listens to them talk about their days.

It was early October of 1984 now, Louie being officially 8 months as of October 14.

Steve wasn’t prepared for the upcoming months.

.

And that’s a wrap!!

Tag list is open always (until I reach a limit or finish the series) so feel free to ask!!!!

Edit: TAG LOST IS OFFICIALLY CLOSED!! Sorry guys, I’ve reached the limit :,)

Part 4:

[rabidjackalope]

I give to you, my heart

(Rafe x Cannibal!Reader, cannibalism HOWEVER no one gets eaten, dismemberment, details on cooking a human, details about how drugs ruin your body, gore, idk the wordcount but id say around 5k? or less, I probs missed stuff so)

DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, ALSO I have no clue is anyone in the dark!fanfic box world has made, created or writing anything for a cannibal reader! I got my inspiration from my personal desire to consume the ones I love BUT FULL CREDIT TO ANYONE HAS WRITTEN IT BEFORE ME

You had only told Rafe if he ever died, you'd dismember his body and keep him in the large ice box your father kept in the basement for his fishing trip.

So when you had gotten a call from Barry, telling Rafe had passed away in his trailer. You knew you had to act fast, stealing your father's truck and speeding to the cut. When you arrived, Barry was outside sitting on the porch with his head in his hands. "I don't know what happened man, I gave him a few lines and then he just started fucking shaking." He said, trying to conceal the wavering tone in his voice. Barry had never looked more beaten in his life, which spoke levels considering his time in the military. You spoke to him softly as you approached him. "Barry, I know it wasn't your fault." You began, taking a deep breath. "But Im gonna need your help, I gonna need you to put his body in the truck." You know you sound insane, but you couldn't let Ward get to Rafe first. So what? So the love of your life could be stuck in a box 6 feet under? "Follow me, he's in the living room so be prepared." He informed you as he stood up and turned to the trailers door.

As you walked in behind Barry, you crumbled at the sight infant of you. Rafe Cameron, the man you had devoted yourself to was dead infant of you. He looked like was asleep almost, his head thrown back on the sofa, his legs wide apart and his hands rested in his lap. "I propped him up on the coach, felt bad leaving him, y'know looking dead when you came." Barry explained as his gaze saying glued to the stained carpet beneath him. You walked over to Rafe and sat next to him, slowly you raise your pointer and middle finger to his neck. You gasp at how cold he was, a small part of you had hoped this was a sick joke. Unfortunately, it was your new reality. "So how do we get him in the car?" "I take his left arm, you take the right. We carry him to the truck and just pop him in the trunk. It's already open." You instructed as you took Rafe's cold arm and wrapped it around your shoulders. Barry followed your lead. The both of you care Rafe to the truck with only a slight struggle, you popped Rafe in the bed of the truck and wrap him up in a blanket. Barry stopped you before you could cover his face. "Oh Country club, how you haunt me in death."

The drive home was quiet, you didn't turn on the radio because it felt wrong. You sat in a hopeless silence, thinking of Rafe. Thinking about how you'd never hear his wealthy laugh, how he'd never hold you close to his chest just so you could hear his heartbeat, the soft feeling of his lips against yours. Rafe is truly gone and there's nothing you can do to fix it. The only thing you could do was do what felt right, which was craving the meat off his bones and eating him. As you slowly pulled up to your home, you made sure to park next to the cellar door. You get out the truck and walk over to the trunk. Slowly you open it, staring at your dead boyfriend, wondering how you'll get him into the basement without hurting him. The best and only way the came to your mind was gently dragging his blanket clad body by hooking your arms around his chest, muttering a tearful apology every time his feet thumped against the steps. Once in the basement, you unwrap his body and begin collecting your supplies.

A large ice box, a bone saw, a butcher's knife, cling wrap, a plethora of cleaning supplies, rubbing alcohol, mason jars, a kitchen knife set, and your apron. After getting everything, you started to undress Rafe. He had wore your favorite shirt, a white polo that was thin and breathable, something similar to a guayabera. You folded it was you tears soaked the fabric, debating about framing the shirt or putting in a shadow box. Placing his clothes on the table, you pick up the bone saw. Before anything though, you kneel next to Rafe's face. Running your free hand over his buzzed head, "Oh my love." You start. "I'm so grateful for you, Rafe. I loved you so much, I dreamed of cracking open your chest and sleeping within it. I dreamed of eating the flesh that bought me comfort." You confessed, removing your hand from his head and rubbed his toned chest. "I wish you could taste the meals I have planned, beef stew with a bone broth, steak and potatoes, and oh I'm thinking of using the lining of your intestines to make empanadas!" You gleefully told your dead lover, slowly standing and moving towards his left arm.

Rafe's arms and legs were cut into 3 pieces, upper leg/arm, lower leg/arm and feet and hands. Each piece wrapped in clingfilm and placed into the ice box with a thin layer of ice covering them. Once done situating the parts, you picked up a thin medium sized kitchen. Carefully taking the knife to your lovers chest, you begin to cut him open. The sight of Rafe's intestines was gruseome, but his heart was something else. You cut his heart out to get a better look and began to cry hilariously, Rafe's heart was small and frail, the arteries had tears in them, and the lining of it was so thin that if you where too rough you where sure the shining with turn to ash in your hands. With shaky legs, you stand and walking back to the table. You unscrew one of the mason jars, delicately placing Rafe's heart in it. You grab the bottle of rubbing alcohol and fill the jar with. You screw the lid back on and exam the jar with watery eyes before placing it back down.

With all your attention turned back to Rafe, you clean out his chest cavity with ease. You place his different intestines in jars and label the accordingly. you decide to separate his linings from this organs later. Thinking it will taste better if you remove them when needed. The second last step was next, Rafes brain and eyes. You take your bone saw right to his forehead, taking your time while sawing to make sure you didn't damage the brain. You peel back his scalp and remove the top of his skull, revealing this brain. With caution, you take it out of its home in Rafes head. You preserve it like you did his heart. You scooped his eyes out with your bare hands and preserve them.

The final part step was cremation, you broke the scraps of Rafe's body down to the smallest pieces you can. You took him out back and burned him in the fire pit. You watched the fire engulf your former lovers body, again remising on the relationship that was too good to be over. You and Rafe where supposed to grow old together, you there supposed to be married, you where supposed to have a house with a white picket fence 3 and a half kids and a dog. You weren't supposed to be burning his body in your backyard after he had a drug overdose. You snapped out of your thoughts once the fire died down, you scooped his ashes into a porcelain urn. You carried his ashes to your room, placing them on the alter you made for him. His ashes right in-between his brain and heart, with his beautiful baby blues next to a photo of the two of you smiling. "I love you forever, Rafe." You whispered as you placed a kiss on his urn.

~ love bay-bay (omg this is my first actual fanfic on this blog and I'm so excited for it!! I hope you enjoyed it, I was gonna write a nerd!Rafe x bsfmom!Reader fic but this was an itch I had to scratch lolz)

[lnthestillness]

Prompt: Candles

@wolfstarmicrofic - 445 words

“What are you doing?” Remus asked as he stepped into their flat, stomping the snow off his boots. Sirius looked up from where he was stooped over the counter, clearly very concentrated on something that Remus couldn’t see from his angle.

“Making a candle,” Sirius said, looking up with a grin. His inky black curls were tied in a messy updo atop his head, and he was wearing Remus’ apron. It was a dark blue one Sirius had bought him, the words ‘don’t make me poison you’ sprawled in bold text.

It took Remus a moment to reply, distractedly taking in his perfect boyfriend. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shimmering with something like fondness.

Sirius raised a brow in question and Remus realized he should probably respond. “A candle, huh?” He said as he shrugged off his coat. He walked around the kitchen island to where Sirius was sitting, and he could now see the mason jar full of wax with the wick of the candle being held up by a pencil while it dried. “I didn’t know you liked candles.”

Sirius shrugged. “They’re not really my thing, but lately there’s been a scent on my mind that I just needed to have as a candle. I want to burn it in our room so I can smell it whenever,” Sirius said, pushing the candle towards Remus on the counter. “Here, smell it. Tell me what you think.”

Remus smiled. He loved when Sirius got on his crafting kicks and presented everything he made to Remus. He leaned down, putting his nose to the lip of the jar and taking a whiff. He hummed.

He definitely knew the scent. It was rich, chocolatey, but also refreshing with the smell of orange zest. There was also just a tiny hint of smoke. It was so familiar.

“Wait a second,” Remus said, standing straight and looking at Sirius, “is that supposed to be—”

“Musk of Moony,” Sirius sing-songed, “didn’t I nail it? It took me forever to get the chocolate smell right. Don’t look in the garbage, there’s a lot of failed batches.”

Remus laughed breathlessly. His heart ached in the best way, the warmest affection filling him at Sirius’ sentiment. How did something so simple make Remus so giddy? Sirius made him feel like a teenager.

“Pads,” Remus said, walking the rest of the way around the island to where Sirius stood. He cupped Sirius’s face and placed his free hand over his boyfriend’s on the counter. “I love you.”

Sirius smiled sweetly, silver eyes sparkling. “I love you, too,” he said, as he leaned forward and captured Remus’ mouth with his own.

[talonabraxas]

The Secret Teachings Of All Ages

PLATE 6: Hermes Trismegistus

Hermes, as the personification of Universal Wisdom, is here depicted with his foot upon the back of Typhon, the vanquished dragon of ignorance and perversion. To the Egyptian initiates Typhon, the devourer of souls, signified the lower world which swallows up the spiritual nature of individual who, being imperfect, is forced to descend from the higher spheres and be reborn into the physical universe. To be swallowed by Typhon therefore signifies the process of rebirth, from which man can only release himself by vanquishing his mortal Adversary.

In on hand Hermes carries the Caduceus, a winged rod with two fighting serpents entwined about it; in the other, the immortal Emerald, upon whose surface was inscribed in raised letters the sum of philosophy. The figure wears the ancient Egyptian Masonic apron according to the pattern discovered by Belzoni, the eminent Egyptologist. The two small circles contain the forms and symbols most closely associated with Hermes. In the upper circle is the ibis, whose curious characteristics have caused it to be particularly associated with the medical art. In the initiation ceremonies the Egyptian priests wore masks in the form of the ibis head to signify that they represented the attributes of Thoth, or Hermes. The lower circle contains the dog, an animal always associated with Hermes because of its intelligence and devotion.

[ravennaortiz]

August 30th A features Opie with the prompt "Wishes and Kisses for my favorite birthday girl" requested by the lovely @darqchilddaydreamz As always my stories are 18+

“Good Morning Sweetheart” called Opie as you appeared in the doorway of the kitchen yawning. “Morning” you replied smiling as he kissed your forehead as you hugged his waist. “Sit down and I ‘ll get your coffee” he stated as he flipped the pancakes he was making quickly. Once you were seated you watched your giant teddy bear hustle about. His kiss the cook apron flying as he moved back and forth.

You sipped your coffee as Opie finished up your breakfast. Your eyes lingering on the mason jar with a purple bow on the table. Before you could ask Opie was setting your favorite birthday pancakes, hash browns and bacon in front of you. “Looks great love” you stated as you smiled at him before digging in. You moaned as the fluffy pancake practically melted in your mouth. Opie chuckled as he watched you. “You don’t make those sounds when I’m in you, getting kinda jealous” he laughed making you shake your head. “Hush. You know damn well my neighbors are well aware of your name and how endowed you are with all the praise I sing” you retorted making him laugh.

“The walls of this apartment are hella thin” agreed Opie as he chewed on a piece of bacon. “I wish I could be done with this place” you sighed as you grabbed a piece of toast spreading jelly on it. Opie nodded as he thought about his gift. The year had been rough and he wanted to do something unique and cute for you. He only hoped you wouldn’t think he had overstepped with one of them.

Clearing his throat he drew your attention to the mason jar. You watched him curiously as he scooted it to you. You could see it was filled with your favorite candy Hershey kisses and little bits of colored paper now that it was closer. “I know you said no gifts….but this isn’t” he stated as you grabbed the jar and turned it over. You grinned before looking back at him. “Should have known the big bad biker wouldn’t follow my rules” you stated making Opie bark with laughter as you opened the jar and popped a candy In your mouth.

“What can I say baby. I’m an outlaw and all about the fairy tale” laughed Opie making your snort. “Alright Jax” you teased making Opie laugh harder. “Yeah, that felt wrong” he agreed as he watched you pop another piece of candy into your mouth.

“It’s nothing crazy. It’s just wishes and kisses for my favorite birthday girl” he stated as he stood up and came around the table. “I figured you can have kisses all day long while I’m at work and then pull wishes out as you feel like it and I’ll get you that gift.” Explained Opie as he bent and kissed your forehead. You felt tears pool at your lash line at how thoughtful his gift was.

You heard rustling and he set a folder in front of you labeled lease. “I also…..umm got you out of your lease early…..if you umm want to move in with me finally?” he continued as he knelt next to you grinning. You couldn’t help the tears and laughter that spilled from you. “Of course” you replied leaning forward and kissing him. “I think you better call off work though. I want real kisses all day long” you whispered in his ear making him swallow hard.

Return to Masterlist

[imclimbingthestairsoforthanc]

Loser - Maeglin x Reader

Maeglin searches and searches for solutions to problems - problems he can't quite put his finger on. Little does he know that a fated trip to the mason's guild would help him in his search for solutions, not only his own, but a certain stone-mason's too.

The clink of Maeglin’s pick brought music to his ears in the solace of the mines. The rock gave way about him and stood fast under his feet in worship. The sounds of the party above him faintly tickled his ears, but he paid it no mind. Above the mines the people of Gondolin danced and laughed and probably asked where the son of the dark elf was before whispering to their friends about his poor adaptation or his odd demeanor or his dead parents, but in the deep iron mines Maeglin sifted through the rock and racked up one ore deposit load after another. He dug through the dark in search of something beautiful.

He wondered how much more of that he would have to do to himself before he was satisfied.

His baskets were full. It was time to retire for the night.

To the West of the King’s Tower the mason’s guild seemed deserted. All the stonemasons and the apprentices would have made their way either home to their families or to the celebrations, so when the marble-carved veiled woman emitted a tired sigh, Maeglin was surprised to say the least. 

He stopped in his tracks and his ears twitched, eyes narrowing at the statue. He knew, of course, it wasn’t the statue that sighed, but it was guilty by association. He was deliberately trying to avoid the other citizens of Gondolin, and someone was guilty of disrupting his peace. It was a statue worth studying: white marble intricately cut to reflect remarkably realistic human features. A large bowl with some sort of paste laid to-

“Lord Maeglin,” came a soft voice from around the corner, “I did not expect to find you here. What brings you? Do you need assistance?”

Maeglin’s eyes briefly raked over the light purple dress - split inappropriately at the thighs, deep chested, and sleeveless; but he was, after all, in the mason’s guild, and the masons wore whatever was comfortable for work - and the white apron that covered your figure. You squirmed. You’d heard of talk of the strange intensity of Maeglin’s gaze, but had never experienced it firsthand.

“I could ask the same of you,” he replied coolly, “The party started long ago, and is far from over.”

“It is,” you said, and Maeglin couldn’t help but notice the wistfulness in your tone. He made no mention of it. 

“You did not wish to go?”

You shifted your longing gaze from the door and back to the Sindar, “I suppose you could put it that way.”

“Hmm.”

You watched as Maeglin hauled his basket across the room and to the chest that would await the inventory specialists. It looked heavy, but he seemed not to mind.

“You did not go to the party?”

Maeglin followed your gaze to the basket he had just set down, and after a moment he spoke, “Iron. There was much to be done. It would seem you are in the same predicament.”

That was a lie.

His gaze traveled back to the sculpture next to you, and a sudden curiosity plagued him.

“Is this your work?”

You nodded.

“It is incredibly life-like,” he replied, his thoughts wandering to his own collection of sculpted decor, “I have not seen anything like it. I would like to buy it, if selling it is your intention.”

“Apologies, my lord,” you said, bowing slightly, “It is a paid commission for the Lord Voronwë. It is already claimed, and at a set price.”

He touched his finger to his chin, “When is he to retrieve it?”

You let out a sharp breath, “As soon as I can get it done, though my only chisel is thatched, and I do not have a spare. I shall either have to have its completion delayed, or send it out with this terrible affront. On the hip, you see-”

Maeglin tuned the rest of your words out. He knew nothing about sculpting, masonry, or anything of the sort. Whatever flaw you were pointing out was lost to him. Under any other circumstance, he would have bid farewell and made for his room, but there was something entirely intriguing about you. Perhaps, he thought, it was the incessant rambling that no other would have dared plagued him with that you did not hold back. It made him feel different.

It made him feel included.

He mentally shrugged and cut you off during your explanation of stucco, whatever that was. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge himself in the pretense of companionship, just for tonight. 

“If you come with me, I will mend your chisel,” he said, “Or at the very least, give you a temporary one. This is fine work, and I can imagine that Voronwë will be paying a fine price for it.” 

You looked like you wanted to protest, but in the end, you unclasped the golden hooks that fastened your apron and trailed behind him, broken chisel in tow. 

Maeglin’s work space was everything you had ever dreamed of: there was an office section with two large desks. If you had that, you would use one for inventory and finance, and one for work plans.You wondered what Maeglin used his for. Beyond the desks stood a great forge, with a wall full of work attire and gear hung up for the taking. You stood next to one of the desks and handed Maeglin the chisel, mentally calculating a suitable payment for the service. Maeglin sauntered over to the wall and grabbed an apron and a glove, but chose to forego forge boots and other safety equipment, evidently devil-may-care for forge rules. He lifted a protective apron and a pair of forge boots and beckoned you to follow him.

“You can watch if you like,” he said as he waited for the forge to warm, “See how it’s done.”

You slipped on the boots and awkwardly fumbled with the apron that was so different from your own. Just as Maeglin turned, the metal clasps clicked securely into place.

“This chisel is very heavy,” he remarked, and you fumbled for a reply before he continued, “Is it pure iron?”

You shrugged. He cracked the hint of a smile. You watched as the metal turned white hot, then took a step back as he began to hammer delicately at the metal. It didn’t take more than fifteen minutes - fifteen minutes of boredom, for you - for the chisel to be shaped to his liking. He dunked the metal into icy water and began to speak as it hissed.

“What you have done is a work of art,” he said, “You should create art because you enjoy it - because you feel like it, not because you have to. Creating art because you have to is exhausting and it undermines the concept of art. It turns it into a job.”

You raised an eyebrow, “And I suppose you indulge in mining expeditions at your every whim?”

“Mock me, if you must, but consider this,” he replied, smoothing over the edge of the chisel with a whetstone, “This is the first time in a year I have been to my forge. Conjure up in your pretty little head why that might be.” 

You turned your head to hide the blush that crept up on your cheeks, but Maeglin saw.

“It is unfortunate, then. Art has not become my job because I have to make it. I have to make art because, well, it is my job.”

“You have a brother, do you not?” 

You nodded.

“Is he unwilling to care for you?”

You shook your head, “There is more to it than that. I would not expect you to understand.”

Unbeknownst to you, Maeglin did understand. Far too many times he had found himself deep within the mines, but looking not for iron. The city was well equipped, and his stores were overflowing; he had no more use for iron. After some thinking - the kind that he would not like to do again - he decided it was not iron at all that he was looking for.

“You cannot create what you want to be. You cannot break away the edges of your soul and shape it into something perfect, no matter how yielding stone may be.”

You turned to him sharply, ready to chide him for his arrogance - how dare he claim to know what you can and cannot do? How dare he perceive your greatest insecurity and lay it bare like a fawn in a lion’s pit? - but when you saw the far away look in his eyes and the subtle grimace on his handsome face, you had a change of heart - a rather drastic one.

“Then stop searching for what you will not find.”

You took the chisel from his hand. He grasped yours, and it seemed he had no intention of letting go. He pulled you closer. 

“As you wish,” he said, voice barely above a whisper, “But then all my searching has been in vain.”

His silver eyes darted between both of yours, emitting his insecurity, and you knew he was no longer talking about searching for himself. You reached up to play with the ends of his hair. 

“It has not.”

“How will I know?” he said. 

His forehead came to rest against yours, and you intertwined your hand with his. It was a bold move, but he did not retract from it. Your heart fluttered.

“On the occasion that I take your advice and create art because I want to,” you whispered, “The stone falls apart in worship in my hands. It rises up to greet me and sacrifices for the beauty that it will become. There are no second thoughts, no second guessing, no doubting, no crying over what that stone will become. It simply becomes.”

Maeglin’s mouth hovered just above yours, “Shall I keep searching in the dark, then, or does the iron rise to greet me?”

“She does.”

Your lips met.

[miapcain]

are the outfits in VDtWOF inspired by anything in particular or generic in a way?

Thank you for the ask! I love getting these :p

I had the opportunity to borrow a historian's rare book on 14th century bohemian clothing after he heavily criticized the last game I had a big hand in, Rhythm of Triverz, for period inaccuracies. That gave me a convenient ceiling for the most advanced gowns and armour you could expect in the region at the time. Resources on this are extant online but many don't cite their sources and most good ones are maintained on individual german historians' websites, so I need to do more research on this in general, but here are my basic rules for designing their clothes:

Everyone wears long gowns. Hose were pretty rare in this period. Women might have slightly longer dresses

Everyone wears a plain "shift," a garment that's worn under the main article of clothing. This is the one that gets washed

Garments, even rich ones, are unicolour. Mixed fabrics and colours appear later.

There's very little embroidery or detailwork on regular clothing

A garment will be worn with a belt, which might be longer the higher a person's status, and a pouch carrying an eating knife and other personal items

Most people will wear a head covering. Married women will always cover their hair outdoors, other women might do so too, and all women and girls cover their hair in church. Most common hats should be bundhauben or gugel.

A garment can be worn with a contrasting cloak (blue/red is a common one)

Jewellery is occasionally ok, but no piercings (?)

Shoes as we know them are more 14th/15 century; no big boots. Most shoes will be more like pointed leather socks or for ladies silk slippers. Poor people might wear wooden clogs.

No or very few fancy cuts. Later on you see tunics and gugel with with triangular or even fancier hems; This possibly exists very rarely in a limited capacity on things like a noblewoman's 'Kruseler' veil at this time, but that's probably it.

No black. No one depicted in this comic would be rich enough to waste money on black dye. Nuns and so on wear undyed or brown wool.

Military clothing is more "primitive" than might be expected. Not really any fancy visor helmets or big articulated suits of armour yet, most men-at-arms and even knights wear a mail shirt and a surcoat

As I understand, and I'm more than happy to be corrected on any of this, this applies almost universally. Peasants working in the field will wear dyed colourful garments, not plain rags. If it's hot, you don't take the outer garment off, you tuck the front hem of it in your belt to expose the shift. Masons will climb ladders and haul stone in this stuff. Some labourers or craftspeople will wear an apron and other specialized clothing like a toolbelt, too.

Note how Vesna wears a plain linen shift under her nicer yellow dress. I usually draw her with the sleeves all the way at the wrist, which would be the appropriate way to wear them, but she has it folded back here to make the composition nicer.

Bonus: Amusing pictures of King Václav IV slaying (150 years after when Vesna is set) and the "work uniform" of a bathhouse maid