#still sick af
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/42b0eb2d3254a869b4de70bd16befd57/4f43a6b6ed4213f2-44/s640x960/cfee0dcf166ec95d785cd6865c900aeb471e197e.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/bffbebc6231b6aa196aaeecb6492e2fe/4f43a6b6ed4213f2-e5/s540x810/0602f0acccbcc7480c6f57ebfb0d7fd0bd298934.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/4623ca3aba04519b34afcae1e5fc1163/4f43a6b6ed4213f2-1e/s1280x1920/43193eab21a7c97a38d0c28e71782c89ee19b7ad.jpg)
Hope you haven’t missed me too much 💕
#daddysfavouritegirl#still sick af#currently dying of pneumonia#cnc k!nk#daddy k!nk#bd/sm daddy#degrade kink#bd/sm blog#bd/sm community#bd/sm kink#rough cnc#cnc kink#cnc free use#attention slvt#attention wh0r3#desperate for attention#sick af someone come take care of me rn#looking for moots#cutie w a bootie#curvy body#plus side girls#breeding toy#c0ckwarming#c0ckwh0re#corruption kink#c0ckslut#curvy and cute#somno k!nk#praise k!nk#k!nk content
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
So, I missed the livestream and instead listened to it first on YouTube, and I thought the ghosts of all his crew came back and helped him beat Poseidon and that it was a powerful and poignant message about forgiveness/“fuck it, one of us should make it home” camaraderie, thus why the last song is called “Six Hundred Strike.”
But no my man used a fucking jet pack and the power of the zoomies 😭
#all this to say#still sick af#also the look on euro’s and the others faces will haunt me tonight#they really said NOPE if we died you’re dying bitch#even his mom was like “come to me my son. come to momma. shh#shout out to my man polities tho he was out there trying to be comforting#epic the musical#epic#epic the musical vengeance saga#epic vengeance saga#epic the musical spoilers#odysseus#the odyssey
68 notes
·
View notes
Text
back 2 wrk 2dy pray4me!
#personal#still sick af#n even have sick days left#but dont wna#fall behind#i can literally work in bed
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crush🦋
#voltron#fem klance#klance#vld#voltron legendary defender#fanart#keith kigane#lance mclean#basically the intro of one of the comics im planning#FINALLY BACK ON MY BS#oh god you dont know how uch i needed to stop with the deadlines nd the sickness and the genral stress#on my line - flourishing -drawing*:・゚#still working on this comic#but this one is not part of the zie bc this one is looooong af#fem keith
807 notes
·
View notes
Text
Prompt:
Actor Au!
Where Batman and Co. are the most popular TV series and they’re currently filming Jason’s death.
Only Bruce goes so deep into acting he breaks down for real upon the part where he arrives at the warehouse and digs through the rubble for his child.
#Jason just thinks it’s phenomenal acting#and totally doesn’t move a muscle until the Regisseur calls the cut#at which point Jason just jumps up and goes ‘that was AWESOME Pops!’#only bruce doesn’t stop crying and clutching at him#and literally everyone else is disturbed by the sheer level of emotion#the only reason the cut wasn’t called earlier is because the filming crew was too shocked with Bruce’s screaming and begging#Jay honey you played the dead child a little too well#Bruce is having a full blown mental breakdown#Dick and Tim have to be called on set#unless they’re already there and also joining the cuddle pile because#JASON YOU PLAYED YOUR PART TOO WELL#Joker’s actor is going on a month long vacation he’s got trauma#I’m still sick af but this au came to me in a fever dream oops#might be dying more at eleven lol#actor au#jason todd#batfamily#dick grayson#bruce wayne#batfam#robin#tim drake#red hood#joker#prompts#angst#jaybin#batdad
499 notes
·
View notes
Text
bites you bites you bites you
#i wanted to draw more werewolf shart before Halloween but then i got sick twice in a row and#things have been busy#also drawing werewolves is difficult af so#drawing face profiles on the other hand is easy and fun :3#also since i found out my blog is flagged as mature for some reason i was pissed for a bit#still am#ill make a new one eventually ive just been busy and tired yk how it is#my art#shadowheart#astarion#bg3#this wasnt meant to be shippy but im not the boss of you so
112 notes
·
View notes
Text
I love Wu Ming
#xie lian ghostwrote (godwrote?) this#hualian#wulian#tgcf#rae is being silly today#coming out of sickness my brain is still foggy af#wu ming#wu ming always in my heart#wu ming is love wu ming is (un)life
68 notes
·
View notes
Note
"The Best Jimmy I Know"
https://x.com/NaomiUChuu/status/1888278135080362405?t=7PjP4jQfyeRISO1xG5RnIg&s=19
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/94dc05c5b6c428730d8fd087ed7637ed/6232ba72fe11e6e0-15/s540x810/5a4a0419479721867c828709c145b751df68f6ec.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/edbb6ed745306df8488fb445d8bf5f0d/6232ba72fe11e6e0-a3/s540x810/b305ef2c8cf38d41f6eb5d321aee2929899e9e53.jpg)
HE'S SICK!!!!!! A SICK MAN!!!!! WITH THE ILLNESS OF QUEER-CODING!!!!!!!!!!!!
#smallidarity#asks stuff#is joel cat-coding jimmy or is he making fun of jimmy by saying his cat jimmy is better than jimmy#anyways still gay af to name your conceptual pet after your best friend.....#his hc10 sword as well even though lizzie was the one to suggest it......#GWUHHHH IM SICK!!!! IN THE HEAD!!!! WITH YAOI!!!!! IT'S TERMINAL#thank you anon for the food :')
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
I’m so overwhelmed with what we saw,,,, I’m trying to grasp onto one train of thought
#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel#I can’t even begin#what order do I go in#chaggie my otp forever#omg vaggie is so fucking badass#Carmilla is THAT GIRL FOR REAL HER SONG WAS SO GOOD#Susan LMFAO#Vox was sooo fucking funny#Lucifer is so cool#the Adam alastor fight was FUCKEN SICK#alastor is scared af of whoever he made his deal with holy shit#ahhh also Charlie made a deal with alastor!?#and i still don’t even freaking know if alastor is for the gang or against omggg#cracked up at Lucifer’s reaction to seeing alastor was still alive#and heartbroken at husk’s reaction#huskerdust is huskerdusting#MY DEAR SIR PENTIOUS#I hope the egg boys joined him in heaven too#Emily’s joy I fucking love her#oh also loot is CRAZY#and Lilith girl I know you wasn’t chillin on a beach for seven years#OMG QUEEN NIFTY
259 notes
·
View notes
Text
met a VERY charming lil friend yesterday who i have never (knowingly) seen before!!! 🖤💛
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/edf7521af433f7c5402c8d5f06edb895/586532b4057c9e2e-99/s540x810/69762c721f4eac0c0c840395f2c255c8c728207d.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5b8b11bce68f10b565b48c051c2cbaa3/586532b4057c9e2e-13/s540x810/e7f2ccfb4e851ba4847229567c1f4f8f23120be0.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/32e7adaeefce999a1b1026f1a4a33027/586532b4057c9e2e-68/s540x810/c2c2c42120d6c0decb038d4213b69fc38176fa23.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b3ba1edf31eb42d81e15a6bdde439a93/586532b4057c9e2e-1e/s540x810/3114100901cb89fb6a6980a153ace04530b6e646.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7370e8bbacde3dd0c54fe3a6b83731dc/586532b4057c9e2e-fb/s540x810/eb39dacf9646bcc46b075affa8914f66eac9b97a.jpg)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3ffbcff00b9598c56e3cd3eee10f973d/586532b4057c9e2e-8a/s540x810/51cad17a51d33a693c2b34ac92e03ec5bfc33d42.jpg)
this is the Sequoia Pitch moth (Synanthedon sequoiae), yes, moth! these fascinating little creatures bear an incredible resemblance to members of the family Vespidae, like common paper wasps and yellowjackets, and that’s no simple coincidence!
the appearance of these moths is an example of Batesian mimicry, a type of mimicry where one species mimics the warning signals of another species, but without having the same harmful or undesirable defences.
in this case these moths look like they may give you a nasty sting, but really they’re about as harmless as a moth can be! (plus they have gorgeous slightly iridescent black-lined wings and fluffy little shrimp-like tails! absolute cuties!)
#i’m tired and my phone keyboard is lagging like crazy i’m sorry if this reads all jumbled#i just thought they were super cute and cool and wanted to share#this is the second time in a row that i’ve gone to this friend’s house and gotten overly excited about an insect i found on their deck#honestly i think they’re a little sick of my overexcitement but like#c’mon you can’t tell me this little stripy shrimp-tailed cutie isn’t cool af#i think they were injured in some way (legs it looked like) but they were still alive#so after a small photoshoot i left them to do their thing and told myself if they were still there in the morning#and they had passed away that i would bring them home to pin#but alas they were gone by morning#i miss u little friend#i hope you’re alive somewhere#or at least the reason some spider or bird has a fuller belly#Sequoia Pitch moth#photography#(kinda. i didn’t have my macro lens on me and was VERY sad about that)#insects#moth#Batesian mimicry#lepidoptera
74 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nothing's Wrong with Dale: Part Thirty-Three
It’s been a week, but you’re fairly certain your fiancé accidentally got himself replaced by an eldritch being from the Depths. Deciding that he’s certainly not worse than your original fiancé, you endeavor to keep the engagement and his new non-human state to yourself.
However, this might prove harder than you originally thought.
Fantasy, arranged marriage, malemonsterxfemalereader, M/F
AO3: Nothing's Wrong with Dale Chapter 33
[Part One][Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Part Five] [Part Six] [Part Seven] [Part Seven.5][Part Eight] [Part Nine] [Part Ten] [Part Eleven] [Part Twelve] [Part Thirteen] [Part Fourteen] [Part Fifteen] [Part Sixteen] [Part Seventeen] [Part Eighteen] [Part Nineteen] [Part Twenty] [Part Twenty-One] [Part Twenty-Two][Part Twenty-Three] [Part Twenty-Four][Part Twenty-Five][Part Twenty-Six][Part Twenty-Seven] [Part Twenty-Eight][Part Twenty-Nine] [Part Thirty] [Part Thirty-One] [Part Thirty-Two] Part Thirty-Three [Part Thirty-Four] [Part Thirty-Five]
Violins played a lively tune as your and your new husband danced for the first time as a married couple.
Your focus had been intense for the first round of dancing as you were by yourselves in front of the entire wedding luncheon, but luckily by the second other couples were invited to join. Marigold and her husband were the first to come onto the floor, with plenty of others on their heels. You finally felt as if you had the chance to stop watching yourself so closely and perhaps truly look at Dale.
He looked splendid in his navy suit, the gold trimming that would look heavy-handed on others merely looked elegant with how easily he wore it. Despite the dancing—you felt your carefully styled curls, the ones framing your face, starting to lose their sleek definition and could see the evidence of movement whenever they flew in your vision—Dale’s hair was perfect, not a strand out of place. Was it silly to hope the cause was something inhuman so that you could feel better about your own inability to maintain such perfect composure?
His black hair was neatly contained by its low tie, a golden ribbon that complimented his suit. His breath was controlled too—deep but not panting as yours was. His hands weren’t sweaty where they held onto you, at your waist and your own hand as the dance instructed. It was leaving you feel rather self-conscious about your appearance.
If he was nervous about the crowd as you were, he’d not shown it. Although perhaps you’d been distracting yourself with anxiety over the crowd so none could build at the way his eyes hadn’t left you, his gaze more intense and focused than usual. You couldn’t afford the liability getting lost in his blue eyes would incur, at least you couldn’t when you were alone with him on the dance floor.
The first couple fast paced dances gave way to slower waltzes and you found your focus drawing tighter and tighter onto Dale and Dale alone. His confident steps, his large hands on you, his strength supporting you. His unwavering gaze—the affection and warm regard you still didn’t quite expect to see on Dale’s face, let alone directed at yourself.
The dance slowed further with no more twists or jumps, no more parting only to come back together for brief seconds. You were pressed against him, your skirts no match for Dale’s competent steps and hold. He wasn’t as warm as he should be, but even that was welcome and spoke to how wonderfully unwavering he felt at the moment. As if nothing could stand against him and win—and you at his side.
He pulled you closer still and you could feel the soft velvet of his jacket brush your cheek before you remember your audience, only enough not to give in to that final indulgence of resting your head on his shoulder, no matter how tempting it seemed.
“Are you enjoying yourself, sana?” Dale murmured, inclining his head closer to be heard over the music.
“Yes,” you replied, not seeing any reason to keep the easy answer to yourself. “I am.” You allowed him to steer the primary dramatic turn this dance has, spinning out and back to be caught in his arms in a move that heightened the intimacy of being held so close by contrasting it with the seconds you were apart. “Are you?”
“Yes,” he answered immediately, re-securing his grip on you. “I’m glad we don’t have to worry so much about managing other dance partners today. I’d prefer to only dance with you.”
“There are more talented dancers out there,” you couldn’t help but point out. You were always worried he had to slow himself down to keep up with you, who got winded so much faster than he did. “Even in here. Why—”
Dale shook his head. “But they aren’t you. You suit me best and I’m enjoying having you all to myself.”
Heat rose in your cheeks as you resisted the urge to hide your face against his chest. It was hard not to follow that line of thinking, let alone rebuff it or tease him back. Not on when he’s your husband. Not when you get him all to yourself tonight. His dancing skills easily morph into what other talents he might have, physically and in how he complements and anticipates you.
You heard your name on his lips, questioning, but teasing. Trying to draw your eyes back to his instead of at his shoulder.
The next murmur of your name is accompanied by a jolt that’s out of place with the dance. Slowly, you realize that Dale isn’t in front of you, but to your side and that you’re sitting down. Sitting down in a carriage.
You blearily blink your eyes open, adjusting easily to the low afternoon light. You are comfortable and warm and so almost immediately close your eyes once more. The cushions of the carriage are plush and Dale is a solid comfort at your side, supporting your head so your neck isn’t even sore—the usual consequence that befell you if you sleep sitting upright. Instead you’re so relaxed you don’t want to move from your spot.
“We’re only a quarter of an hour from our destination,” Dale says, his voice low and quiet. “I thought you might want to be awoken before we arrived.”
“Thank you,” you reply, your hand coming up to your mouth to cover a yawn because he is correct. You’ve no desire to be jolted awake and out of the carriage in a hurry.
While you get your bearings, you see Dale pop the last bit of a pasty into his mouth. Your own mouth floods with saliva, not only because you realize you’re hungry. You get distracted from the thought of sustenance by the sight of Dale licking his fingers clean. You wonder if the privacy the two of you are currently enjoying is why the red of his tongue seems more vibrant and its length seems longer than you remember.
Dale must notice your preoccupation because he gives you a sheepish smile, hiding his teeth and tongue behind soft lips to say, “Help yourself to what remains. I’m afraid that I ate the majority of the offerings.” He reaches forward, careful, you realize, not to jostle his right arm which you’re still clutching to your chest as he picks up the basket. He offers it to you. “I left you the mushroom pasty.”
You reluctantly let go of his hand to accept the offered pasty. You smile at his thoughtfulness: meat would have been far more likely to upset your stomach, especially in a pasty. “Thank you.” You keep your other arm still entwined with his, holding it to your side. It’s nice that it's been warmed from how you’ve been holding it.
Dale makes no effort to reclaim his arm from your possession. Instead he fills the silence with easy conversation as he had been when you must have drifted off. He tells you about the part of the journey you slept through—where there was trouble, which road he noticed should be next on your list for improvements, and how often they stopped to water the horses.
From all this, you gather you’ve made pretty good time. The sun’s only just beginning to set. Dale doesn’t press you to wake up faster or try to get you to contribute more to the conversation. It makes you think of what a morning might be like with Dale, him talking about your plans for the day while you can wake up at your own pace.
Of course you don’t even know if you’ll be sharing chambers or have separate ones—you’d not had the nerve to ask and no one else brought it up. It varied quite a lot among couples to your understanding—noble ones that is.
Sometimes it came down to space if it was possible—certain city houses with their limited space chose to prioritize rooms for entertaining or children over separate master and mistress chambers. Other times it was about practical comfort. Some sleep in the same bed but also maintain separate chambers for dressing and other personal matters.
Callalily swears if she had to sleep in the same room as her husband every night she’d murder him due to the snoring alone. But Asher and his wife never sleep apart. Marigold says it depends on what else is going on, their moods—how hot it is.
You just added this to the list of matters you’ve never had the privacy to discuss with Dale. At least this would be decided to some degree tonight since you would be going to sleep somewhere. Although your nap had refreshed you. And tomorrow, and ideally the rest of the week, you’d be able to sequester yourself away with Dale and talk through everything else while you settle into your new marriage. After everything that happened, you aren’t going to let any more time go by without doing so. It’s tonight that’s still in question.
You take the time while listening and thinking to check your hair and clothes, getting them back in order from being rumbled by your nap. Even these little worries are starting to feel less daunting and more exciting, as you remember your dances, as you sit pressed against Dale in comfort, as you now know you and he are on the same page.
The carriage jolts to a stop, propelling you out of your thoughts and into the present. Dale reluctantly pulls out of your grip and you fight the urge not to let him. To hold on tight instead. No matter how ridiculous it would make leaving the carriage. You are a newly wed couple, surely some amount of foolishness is expected.
Still, it’s clear Dale’s intent on playing up his role as lord and husband, alighting from the carriage to offer his hand to help you down while a footman holds the doors open. Carefully you get to your feet, legs stiff after having been seated for such a long journey.
A small number of servants are lined up awaiting your arrival, including those you know and the ones who must be local to this lodge. You still feel rather sleepy and tired from all the socializing. It’s as if your mouth and mind know no more is officially required of them and so they’ve given up. You let Dale take the lead and had reclaim your hold on his arm as soon as you are able to.
He looks startled but indulgent, which you are more than willing to accept.
You listen and do greet the housekeeper, but otherwise you allow yourself to be taken for the tour without much input or effort. It’s a lovely house, secluded and far smaller than a typical estate, obviously meant for only a few main guests or to be a wayhouse on longer journeys. It’s older, but well maintained. The traditional style is why the servants are housed separately.
You feel as though the first floor tour goes by fast, but you start to feel some alertness, some anticipation, start to edge out the sleepy contentment that’d been lapping at your veins, when you go upstairs. It has well furnished studies, including a detailed map of the grounds the housekeeper goes over with you, in case you wish to ride or hunt. She doesn’t spend too long on it though, a twinkle in her eyes that makes you more self-conscious of your newly married status even more than some of the jokes made at the wedding luncheon.
The fact that she goes next to the bedrooms does not help you regain hold of your composure. She opens a door down the hall and allows you and Dale to enter first. “Here is the mistress’s room,” the housekeeper informs you. “Given the size of the house, the traditional dressing and sleeping rooms are combined.”
“They’re very nice,” you say for lack of anything better coming to mind. Your heart sank when she opened the door. You’d been hoping for a combined suite as it would take care of some of the awkwardness. Although perhaps it is only you who feels that way. Dale certainly is showing nothing of the sort. He’s only spoken with the housekeeper during the entire tour, though he’s glanced at you at times.
Now he just nods, allowing you to take the lead as she shows you the various accommodations and where certain trunks of yours had been placed. Dale’s focus is entirely on you and you can nearly feel his scrutiny like a tangible thing. It’s enough to let you know not to meet his eyes or you’ll become ensnared by his gaze, as you always do when he gets like this.
As it is, you manage to make all the appropriate affirmative noises and agreements, answering the housekeeper’s minimal questions. Before you know it she’s shown you the entire room. Just as you’re wondering what will happen next—will you stay here or follow her and Dale to his chambers—when she puts a hand on a door you realize she’s not opened.
“Your shared sitting room is through here,” she explains, opening said door and leading the way through to a very nice, spacious sitting room. You listen with one ear to her talk of the furnishings and history but your focus is on the door opposite the one you came through.
The housekeep doesn’t spend too much time here before she’s saying. “… and finally, the master’s chamber.”
She gave a similar tour of his rooms while you try not to overthink your grip on his arm nor stare at the bed, with its fresh and luxurious looking bed linens. The sheets are white but the covers are blue. You don’t know why you’re fixated on such inconsequential details. Maybe they’re just the most innocent aspects of the bed you can distract yourself with.
The housekeeper is briefer with her explanation for this room as it’s a mirror of the mistress’ chambers. Soon enough she guides you both back to the sitting room to wrap up. “Would you like anything, my lord, my lady? Vitals to keep up your health, preparing the beds, your body servants?”
You look up at Dale, who, as he sometimes does, seems taller than he had even back in the carriage. Since you just had some food in the carriage, you are satisfied. He’s the one with the big appetite.
He smiles down at you before looking back at the housekeeper. “We ate before arrival and on our journey. Tomorrow morning will be sufficient.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“It has been such a long day,” Dale continues. “I believe we’ll retire for the evening. Tell Mr. Murray I will send for him in the morning, if need be.”
“Please do send Miss Adir to me,” you ask, knowing your dress is harder to get out of than Dale’s attire. Perhaps on a more ordinary day you’d be able to manage on your own, but for tonight with such a fancy gown, you need the help. If you were sharing a room, perhaps you might have asked Dale, but as it stands now, you haven’t the courage to ask–especially not in front of the housekeeper.
“Yes, my lady.” The housekeeper leaves to fetch your maid while you and Dale stay behind in the sitting room.
“It’s a charming house,” you say, feeling the need to fill the silence in a manner you haven’t since you’ve woken up.
“Indeed. How are you feeling?” Dale asks, a little more nervous and a little more sincere now that you’re alone together. “Still tired from the journey?”
You shake your head. “No, I feel rather rejuvenated from my nap.” You shift where you stand as you resist the urge to fuss with your dress—it had dug in in certain places while you slept and is far past beginning to feel uncomfortable. The lace in particular at your neck is becoming itchy.
“But you wish to change,” Dale guesses.
“Yes.”
“Of course, I agree,” Dale says and shifts his shoulders in his jacket. “Would you like to join me in my room when you’ve refreshed?”
“Yes,” you reply, eyes on the door where Miss Adir is entering. “I shall rejoin you shortly.”
Dale nods, his expression polite, but his eyes stormy. Not that you can ever truly tell what his eyes are telling you–all the signs to read are off for him. You’ll need time to study him better. Which you now have because he’s your husband. You’ve no notion of his experience, but perhaps he’s nervous about everything as well. Or maybe there are additional considerations for tonight given his nature you can’t even fathom.
You turn and head for your rooms, not enjoying how performative everything is starting to feel, especially with another person present.
Miss Adir quietly chatters about her trip. She points out where certain of your items were put away and what is still packed while she helps you out of your overgown and skirts.
You make affirmative noises and give quiet answers to her questions about your own trip. Soon enough, you’re left in your shift alone. “Thank you, Miss Adir. That will be all for tonight.”
“Of course.” Miss Adir looks as if she would like to say something further but instead she just curtsies. “Good night, my lady.”
You finger the wine colored silk ribbon that is woven into the lace trim on your chemise while you listen for the door to shut, occupying yourself with brushing your hands along the skirt to ensure it falls correctly. Even after you’re alone, you waste more time, fussing with your hair and clothes until you can delay no longer.
Once it’s making you more tense to stay here, delaying, you leave your chambers, cross the sitting room, and walk through Dale’s open door.
You shut it quietly behind you, eyes searching for Dale. You frown at the sight of him, only his jacket removed and his waistcoat unbuttoned, sitting on the corner of his bed. He looks still remarkably dressed, as you might find him in his private study. Not how you’d expect to see him in his bed chambers on the night of your wedding. “Dale?”
Dale looks up and stares at you like he’s never seen you before despite the fact that he also looks as if he’s waiting for you. He blinks and gets to his feet. Your eyes dart to the lamp on the wall—it's not really dark enough to need one, but the shadows guttered with his movement in a manner that betrayed his nerves. When your eyes go back to his, he looks chagrined and the shadows still. “Apologies.”
You’re not sure what to say since you feel so throw off your own expectations. He’s acting as if there are still more secrets to spill and it’s got your nerves twanging. “It’s fine. Is everything alright?” Dale doesn’t look nervous as a person might on their wedding night. He looks nervous like a man on trial would.
“Yes, of course,” he replies. “Would you like to take a seat?”
“I…sure.” You hesitantly walk over to where he’s gesturing and seat yourself on the corner of the bed. “Yes.”
He paces in front of you and just as you’re about to ask again about what might have happened since you left him less than half an hour ago, he says, “So… I suppose you want to talk.”
He puts a lot of emphasis on “talk” that you don’t completely understand. You blink and repeat slowly, “Talk?”
“Yes, since you know I haven’t always been Dale and that I am a demon,” Dale elaborates. You still feel some surprise at him finally speaking plainly after so long of talking around the subject even after this morning. “I expect you have a lot of questions.”
“Oh!” You’d expected to ask such things tomorrow, not tonight. Not on your wedding night. It's obvious now that Dale’s given no thought to traditional wedding night activities. He’s obviously as focused on reassuring you as he had been back in his study. And you want to know more. You want to know everything, of course you do. You’d only thought…but no. He’s right. “I mean, I do.” Best to resolve all this now so he can start to trust in your acceptance. Best to get it all out in the open, in your new privacy, before something else got in the way. “Yes.”
“Well, we finally have some privacy,” Dale says, echoing your own thoughts so closely you almost smile, “and I don’t want you to be nervous or unsure about me.”
“I am sure of you,” you feel the need to say. You stand up because while you’d had other ideas for tonight, reassuring your husband you trust him certainly seems more important. “However, honest conversation is never bad and is overdue. I’ll brew some tea.”
Still, it’s harder than you think to swallow your disappointment. You take advantage of the distraction and familiarity preparing tea provides–the way it allows you to look away from and ensure your face isn’t giving away your chagrin.
Of course Dale would value a conversation about his nature and his experiences and clarifying with you over something so, so human. He’d said something about a mate, but who knew what that truly meant to him. You had no real idea if demons even had sex. He must know what humans did on their wedding nights, but it's clearly not on his mind now.
He pauses every now and then in his circuit of the room to hover a bit over you and the tea table, before backing off in a manner that makes it clear he’s not sure of his welcome still.
But what about that kiss? You mind wonders with some frustration. Was that just something he thought humans did? Did he think it was expected and complied, but hadn’t truly want to? Or maybe he simply didn’t care about this sort of physical affection? You begin to feel rather shallow and base in your preoccupation.
As you finally pour the tea into a cup for each of you, you tell yourself that you can only manage one thing at a time. For now, your focus has to be on understanding Dale and what he wants. You can figure the rest out later. He’s your husband now. You’ve got plenty of time.
You sit back down on the bed, cup clutched in your hand, while Dale takes his gratefully. To your mounting disappointment, he sits at the vanity instead of next to you.
“So,” he says, after a sip of tea, “where would you like to begin?”
[Part Thirty-Four]
#my writing#story part#story: nothing's wrong with dale#nothing's wrong with dale#monster romance#terato#exophilia#osha compliant#monster bf#arranged marriage#slow burn#reader#life got super busy and then i think i was sick this past weekend#at the very least i felt shitty and slept through most of it#but i'm better now and work is still a lot#but we're getting through it#anyway#you all wanted them to talk right?#thats what everyone's been waiting#the talking#nothing more important on the wedding night than a lore dump#sana's the only one who was thirsty af#right?
216 notes
·
View notes
Text
friends tell me lore about a tattoo of yours
#my 3rd tattoo was a very very big one#like from my armpit to my upper thigh big#it was meant to be done over 2-3 sessions bc it also has lots of shading#we did it in 1 over the course of ~10 hours#because i ‘sat like a champ’#which is code for 'dissociated while lying down for the entire time'#the artist is the (now) husband of a friend of mine and he says they still talk about me (ten years later) at the shop lol#no numbing cream two small breaks looking bored the entire time#i still pride myself in it and wish i’d still have the same pain tolerance like i did back then man#best i can do now is 2h before i get whiny#anyway. it’s a giant jellyfish with no deeper meaning i just thought it looked sick af (still does)#another one is on my thigh were i let someone practice on me bc i had a crush on this person back then#halfway through i was like ‘you’re kinda really bad at this’#so they were like ‘you do it better then’ so i ended up finishing it myself lol (i dare to say i did a better job)#i bought a tattoo machine and ink and needles and stuff after this#sitting in a box under my bed still#moots be honest would you let me tattoo you yes or no#i’m really gentle i swear#anyway. gimme tattoo lore bc i need some distraction omwh#-`♡´- tulip mail
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dane Tabris, Warden Commander, Hero of Ferelden.
I started this project..... end of april of this year. With all the da4 news I decided it was time to power on trough the last outfit I was working on - which was also the most complicated, cuz I did all the fucking layers separately to understand how the outfit works.
The first picture is his gear transformation during origins (recruitment/ostagar -> during the blight -> landsmeet/final battle). the other two are his Warden-Commander gear from Awakening onward. He doesn't change it up much after that.
#dragon age#warden tabris#hero of ferelden#oc: dane tabris#idle art#my art#i was already mostly done with the last piece. still it took me three days to finish up because i am still sick af lol.#posting this because it took me blood sweat and tears#and otherwise only me and like. on or two people would ever see it.#idk i have rarely posted non-fhr art so (aka smth for a big fandom). this makes me nervous lmao.#whatever if i decide this is embarrassing i'll just delete it *shrug*
53 notes
·
View notes
Text
Exciting thing tomorrow! Exciting thing tomorrow!!
#spotatalk#this can be interpreted as the new year coming in but#ironically that isn't what I'm on about haha!#i'll have to doodle about it ig?#i have Big Plans#and it will probably involve N's human design!!!#can't wait to terrorize my beloved bestie w/ it when we meet up too...#no way in hell she's expecting it#anyways frfr update: still sick af 🫶 powering through
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
CALLOUT POST FOR THE KEEPER OF PRECEPTS
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1c1acafa18f9e643ab5c6fa70e1e1039/18e2e86d342cb945-7f/s540x810/9808c840a2dac35595d3a85d0542d51473f3525b.webp)
Zodiark the Esper is a bitch-ass motherfucker. He pissed on my fucking wife. That's right. He took his fishy fucking scaly dick out and he pissed on my fucking wife. And he said his dick was THIS BIG. And I said THAT'S DISGUSTING. So I'm making a callout post on Twitter Dot Com: Zodiark The Esper, you've got a small dick, it's the size of this walnut except way smaller. AND GUESS WHAT. HERE'S WHAT MY DONG LOOKS LIKE
TALL BEAMS, NO QUILLS, NO PILLOWS, LOOK AT THAT IT LOOKS LIKE TWO BALLS AND A BONG
He fucked my wife so GUESS WHAT, I'm gonna fuck the Earth, that's right, this is what you get! My
SUPER
LASER
PISS
#dream journal#IF ZODIARK HAS 0 HATERS I AM NO LONGER ON THE EARTH#I HATE U AND UR STUPID DARKJA#me when i have a demon shield and a black mask and an argyle armlet on#and he still wipes my party#BC IT HAS A CHANCE OF INSTADEATH ANYWAYS#I HATE U AND UR PALINGS#anyways black mage penelo MVP as always but ashe did hit some sick af combos#and ultima put the hours in before i got afraid and whipped it out before he killed ashe#ffxii
17 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just got to reading a translation of "The wooing of Emer" online. Why is no-one (especially the online encyclopedias) talking about the fact Emer is fomorian?
why aren't the online encyclopaedias talking about it: bc they are not that useful for medieval irish literature most of the time, tbh, being heavily simplified and reliant on secondary sources that are often themselves not particularly reliable (although there have been efforts to improve some pages inc. wikipedia pages). loads of fun details missing from them, always
why isn't anyone else talking about it: eh. probably two main reasons
there's a lot of it around. cú chulainn's got a fomorian grandma (on lug's side) and no one ever really talks about that either. it's not that big a deal. i'm sure he's not the only one; can't throw a rock around here without hitting someone with a fomorian uncle or something. there's a lot more overlap / interaction between them and the tuatha dé danann than a simple oppositional binary would suggest, and family trees get fucky in general. being related to the fomoire doesn't automatically = being fomorian yourself bc belonging and kin-groups and stuff are a bit more complicated than that
i'm pretty sure it's only mentioned in tochmarc emire and only in passing and not directly in relation to emer herself, so it's easily overlooked even if you're dealing with that text and a lot of people will be dealing with other texts. it's also only in the later, longer redaction of the text and not in the earliest one, although so are a lot of things. if the authors thought it was important as part of her heritage -- whether they saw it as a good or a bad thing -- they would bring it up more often, but TE seems to be the only one that bothers to give background information about forgall's family tree, so mostly it looks like they think it's not that relevant. (although as it is not a particular focus of mine, it's entirely possible it comes up somewhere else and i just haven't noticed)
e.g. you might expect it to come up in fled bricrenn but it doesn't
sidenote: why the fuck henderson translations "ben ind fir as dech" as "wife of the best wight" i have no idea. it's just "fer"! it's just man! why are you trying to make cú chulainn sound even weirder than usual! it's a mystery to me. other than the fact it's from 1899 and people did whatever they wanted at that point tbh
(the parenthetical explaining the meaning of "Manach" is also editorial and not in the Irish; the meaning "tricky" may be more suitable bc it might have something to do with clessa, but that's getting into my friend emmet's in-progress research so i won't delve deeper there)
also, tethra, who is supposedly forgall's uncle in TE and who is described in the text as a "king of the fomoire" is a bit of a weird one iirc and there's potentially more going on with him than that phrasing suggests, although i can't remember the details and that's getting into cath maige tuired territory, at which point you're better off asking @margridarnauds bc it's not a topic i know a huge amount about
finally i'll be honest another factor is probably that there hasn't been a huge amount written about emer as a character. there's been a lot written about texts that she's in and her function there, but less on her just like, as a person (bc medieval celtic studies is a very small field, there are a lot of texts and characters, and there hasn't been that much written about anyone really). so lots of things don't get talked about. doesn't mean they're not worth talking about. just means nobody's got around to it yet.
#i was gonna use serglige con culainn as an example of another text where it could be mentioned and isn't#but then remembered for half that text cu chulainn's wife is somebody else entirely#and it only switches to being emer in the second fragment#so any genealogical material would probably have got lost anyway#side note i am extremely Not Well right now so if any of this doesn't make sense i'm sorry i'm sick af#answered#gawrkin#tochmarc emire#ulster cycle#also sorry @margridarnauds for yeeting all CMT questions in your direction still#i continue not to know anything much about it and you are my go-to CMT-and-related-texts person#feel free to ignore all such tags tho
54 notes
·
View notes