#symbolism lite

[ominouspuff]

Reflection / Reflecting

Completed request for this

Requested by @blackat-t7t - palette #5 - Savage & Maul - Nature Settings to Rouse the Spirit

Thank you for the request, @blackat-t7t ! When you put in Maul as an option for this palette I got so excited, this was such an interesting one. Enjoy!

Taking my time with these, still planning to finish them all.

[rowwiz]

[undercoverangell]

t4t odysseus and penelope im not taking feedback at this time.

[rverave]

my mother and i had a discussion

how bleak is the human existence

she instructed me to find god

so i went and searched and searched,

until i found him right within me and all round me

in every crease of a leaf crumpled

by the soles of a god

when i reached the cities,

i could hear him roaring in pain

exhaust fume sighs and hardly peaceful horns

he was god and he was living amongst himself

he was just as broken as any preacher on a sunday

i kept pushing to find his spark

stumbling onto the devil

found crying and wailing

as if he too had lost his light

wasted and withering

i could only offer

a lengthy puff of time

[wheelercore]

I always think it's so so interesting that in the areas of the creel home where Henry finds spiders, there is no rose imagery. Like in the bathroom and the attic, there is intentionally no sort of rosey wallpaper that we see all over the place. In the dining room, it's a bit of a stretch, but I suppose Henry was the "spider" in that scene which is why the wallpaper is plain orange. Almost like the roses are meant to represent "rose colored glasses" in a sense. Like the wallpaper hides the spiders behind the walls. It makes me think of Alice's line about how it's all like a fairy tale. Also, brings to mind the references to the creel home in the wheeler home, including the rose wallpaper + urn/fake urns.

But also not only that but the trend of wheeler women wearing rose patterns as to imply that they're not being honest about themselves. Nancy wore a rose design in the first wheeler family photo, and even though she wasn't wearing the same shirt when Jonathan snapped that pic of her when she was taking it off in Steve's bedroom, his comment about how she was "being herself" is interesting (also Nancy just wears a lot of pink-white-blue in s1+s2).

(which honestly I think my interpretation holds weight when you consider how the writers took a risk of possibly making Jonathan out to be a creep just to get this point across. And it always seemed like a pretty strange line to me at least).

Especially, again, a person faking in ST is often conveyed through clothing, as with Argyle's comment on Mike's clothing at the airport.

And also I love Rose Robin so much because Steve's line about how Robin just needs to be herself, and how she was too uncomfortable in her "Rose Weaver" outfit? Because it just wasn't her? And Virginia in her white-pink gown when she sees the spiders in the bathtub and just simply runs away and hugs Victor- "rose colored glasses" (which honestly I could write so much about how victor is associated with the spiders + the grandfather clock but not in a way that condemns Victor himself but instead it's an image that being unfairly projected onto him- which honestly makes me feel even more sad for his character).

Honestly given Holly is fully submerged in this symbolism also in s4 - despite only being six- I could bring in (back on my bullshit again) Ted's relationship with his children and how that seems to be intertwined with this.

[uwmspeccoll]

The author, Angela Hovak Johnston.

Johnston and Marjorie Tungwenuk Tahbone, traditional tattoo artist.

Catherine Niptanatiak: "I designed my own, something that represents me and who I am, something that I would be proud to wear and show off, and something that would make me feel confident and beautiful. . . . I have daughters and I would like to teach them what I know. I would like for them to want to practice our traditions and keep our culture alive."

Cecile Nelvana Lyall: "On my hand tattoos, from the top down, the triangles represent the mountains. . . . The Ys are the tools used in seal hunting. . . . The dots are my ancestors. . . . I am so excited to be able to truly call myself and Inuk woman."

Colleen Nivingalok: "The tattoos on my face represent my family and me. The lines on my chin are my four children -- my two older boys on the outside protecting my daughters. The lines on my cheeks represent the two boys and the two girls on either side. The one on my forehead represents their father and me. Together, we live for our children."

Doreen Ayalikyoak Evyagotailak: "I have thought about getting traditional tattoos since I was a teenager. . . . When I asked the elders if I could have my own meaning for my tattoos, they said it wouldn't matter. My tattoos symbolize my kids."

Mary Angele Takletok: "I always wanted traditional tattoos like the women in the old days. I wanted them on my wrists and my fingers so I could show I'm Inuk."

Melissa MacDonald Hinanik: "As a part of celebrating my heritage and revitalizing important traditional customs that form my identity, I believe I have earned my tattoos. I am a beautiful, strong young woman. I am a mother, a wife, a daughter, a friend, and an active community member. I reclaim the traditional customs as mine, I re-own them as a part of who I am."

Star Westwood: "We still have some of our culture, but some things are slowly dying. Having tattoos helps us keep our culture alive. . . . . My tattoos represent my dad and my dad's dad. The ones closest to my wrists represent my sisters."

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

National Tattoo Day

July 17 is National Tattoo Day. To celebrate, we present some images from Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines: Revitalizing Inuit Traditional Tattooing, compiled by Angela Hovak Johnston, co-founder with Marjorie Tahbone of the Inuit Tattoo Revitalization Project, with photographs by Inuit photographer Cora DeVos, and published in Iqaluit, Nunavut by Inhabit Media Inc. in 2017.

For thousands of years, Inuit have practiced the traditional art of tattooing. Created the ancient way, with bone needles and caribou sinew soaked in seal oil, sod, or soot, these tattoos were an important tradition for many Inuit women, symbols etched on their skin that connected them to their families and communities. But with the rise of missionaries and residential schools in the North, the tradition of tattooing was almost lost. In 2005, when Angela Hovak Johnston heard that the last Inuk woman tattooed in the old way had died, she set out to tattoo herself in tribute to this ancient custom and learn how to tattoo others. What was at first a personal quest became a project to bring the art of traditional tattooing back to Inuit women across Nunavut.

Collected in this book are photos and stories from more than two dozen women who participated in Johnston's project. Together, these women have united to bring to life an ancient tradition, reawakening their ancestors' lines and sharing this knowledge with future generations. Hovak Johnston writes: "Never again will these Inuit traditions be close to extinction, or only a part of history you read about in books. This is my mission."

Reawakening Our Ancestors' Lines forms part of our Indigenous America Literature Collection.

Angela Hovak Johnston (right) with her cousin Janelle Angulalik and her aunt Millie Navalik Angulalik.

View other posts from our Indigenous America Literature Collection.

[atyourmerci]

Gold wing, angel

meanloser!ellie X classpresident!r

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!ellie, sub!reader, v angsty, slight bondage, cunt slapping, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, orgasm denial, ruined orgasms, lite angel symbolism, no y/n, no pdor

A/N: actually surprised I finished a req (you all applaud me) this is inspired by “GOLDWING” by billie.

Ellie was a sick drug. Something not to be desired. She was the epitome of the allure of indulging in something you shouldn’t have, shouldn’t know, try at very least.

How did she get this way- who made her like this? Anger taken out through bodies of admission in an act of revenge. Taking back what was taken from her. Her pride regained by your submission.

You could have never fathomed the aggression the loser from AP American literature could obtain. You thought she’d beg on her knees for you. Worship your every move, starstruck by even getting the chance to touch you.

But she didn’t. She reveled in taking you off your high horse, got off on watching the student body president, proper and witty, utterly depraved by getting her cunt abused by a fucking moron.

-

98- A fucking 98, you did not deserve a 98 on the midterm paper. Your work was frankly sloppy, lacked comprehension. It made you ill knowing you were turning in something so lackluster with your name slapped across the front so proudly. The only thing that made you sicker was the thought of receiving special treatment- you had an image to uphold. You got to your position in this society from your own intellect, blood, sweat, tears and all. Kissing ass for a fucking 98 wasn’t in the cards.

The class began filing out as usual, like wild animals in a pack, shiny white teeth like daggers. Meshing together in their navy steam-pressed blazers, hair like defining fur, the only indication of individuality.

Except for her, sticking out like a sore thumb, the great big elephant in the room. Breaking many rulebook codes with her black nail polish, unkept hair to the standard policy, her white polo unbuttoned at the top two buttons that revealed her freckled chest. Despite her all around degenerate persona, she was irritatingly smart. Maybe if she had an ounce of charm she’d take your place.

With the rest of the class out of sight she stares at you. Not cutting off eye contact you both rise from your chairs you practically run to Mr. Stevens desk. The slap of two papers hit his desk, a 98 and a 90 shining in red sharpie ink on the white papers.

“I don’t deserve this,” comes out in unison, the sincerity in your voice cut open by the harshness in Ellies.

“Please one at a time, ladies.”

Before the words can even escape your lips Ellie rages, “I worked my ass off on this. I deserve better than a 90,” she spits out. “I know you can do better than this Ms.Williams, I expect more from you.” Ellie scoffs back at him, “this is bullshit,” she muffles but continues standing at his desk.

Mr.Stevens nods his head in your direction for your speech, you glance at Ellie with her arms now crossed, awaiting your protest. You brush off her insistence on staying and begin, “Mr.Stevens, I appreciate your grading and understanding my agenda for the midterm, but objectively this is sub-pare work. I think you may have given me someone else’s grade… maybe you mixed up my grade with Ms.Williams.”

He doesn’t skip a beat, “I don’t mix up grades, you earned it. Now if you two will excuse me,” Mr.Stevens directs you both to the now empty hallway.

Ellie storms out with rage, cheeks flushed and lips pressed closely, you follow behind. “‘ms Williams’? the fuck was that?” Ellie presses in a scowl, words echoed in a bare hallway.

“Look I read your paper, I think you deserved better,” you retort in an attempt to soothe her. You cant seem to keep your eyes off her cupids bow, the contrast of soft pink lips against her tired skin.

“Oh thats fucking rich coming from ‘ms I don’t deserve my grade’ you’re pathetic,” she points, eyes thinning.

“Maybe if you weren’t such a bitch more people would like you,” you attempt, heat rising in your own cheeks, heart thumping roughly in your chest.

Ellies cruel disposition contorts into a grin, inching closer to your body, “you’re fucking him aren’t you? Ms. perfect sucking off the teach so she can stay on top?”

A power so foreign comes before you, using force to push your wrist into her chest, though she doesn’t budge, “shut up.”

She returns your aggression, pushing your bodies flesh up against the brick wall behind you, ripping the breath from your lungs. Your hands instinctively grip into her shirt. Her eyes are wild, as if she was surprised she’d taken it this far, or rather puzzled by the fact you haven’t broken your grasp.

You both pant from the intrusion, glaring, waiting- waiting for someone to cave.

Like a dog on a leash you dragged her in, pulling her by her fabric until her lips met your own. A depraved act, met with open mouths and wandering tongues. Hatred in its finest form, digging into her as if you’d ever thought of it. A subconscious desire pulled from the depths of your cravings.

Before true indulgence she pushes you off, taking a moment to look at your hazy disposition, drunk on delinquency, “don’t ever do that again,” she pants out. Taking her thumb she wipes the saliva from your bottom lip and takes off without your response.

-

Time after time you went back. You told yourself you’d stop, never talk to her again. Yet there the keys were in the ignition, a path that you knew like the back of your hand. Leading, controlling your own fate of defacement.

“Can you please just open the door,” you plead on her doorsteps, mind and body corrupted- to only be pleased by the mental games, the destruction in forms of submitting to her.

Strung up like an old doll long forgotten in the attic, bound wrist behind your back and ankles tied to the head of her bed, vulnerable and needy.

“What now? Use your fucking words,” Ellie remarks before spitting on your neglected cunt. Your body winces at the sensation of the hot liquid dripping down the pulsing flesh, “please I promise I’ll do whatever you ask.”

She hovers over your squirming body, carful to not give you the satisfaction. Gripping your jaw in her hand, “do you ever pay attention to what I tell you? You don’t deserve to come,” cocking her free hand back to lay a purposeful slap to your slick folds causing you to scream out from the blissful pain.

She lays another one into the already beat red skin, a cruel grin growing on her lips as she hears you enjoying it. “You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?” she asks glaring at your tucked in lip, eyes glossy. You nod back at her, signaling your approval for using your body as her personal vessel.

Somehow it was good enough for her, dropping down to your perked nipples and sucking it into her teeth as she uses her hand to cover your eyes. You’d learn very early on that you weren’t allowed to watch her use her mouth on you. In the odd occasion she’d let you have your cunt in her mouth shed have your face shoved in the sheets while she took you from behind. She never told you why- and you didn’t dare ask.

Your wrist wriggle behind your back as your chest arches into her mouth, hot and wet. You obsess over what it would feel like on your mouth again, most nights were spent only thinking of her mouth- foreign, an impenetrable fortress. You began to chase the chance of the feeling her again.

You feel as her mouth comes off of the swollen bud as she removes the hand on your eyes, “don’t look,” she says with no threat in her tone, but you don’t risk crossing her.

You shut your exhausted eyes, dropping your head back as you feel her wrap her arms around the meat of your thighs. She drags an antagonizing strip up your slit, jolting your body into the mouth.

She goes as slow as possible, providing as little pressure she can muster up to the swell of your clit, but from her slaps it wouldn’t take much. Your body akin to a fish gasping for air out of water, squirming under her touch. She digs her fingers deep into the flesh as a warning.

“If you ever want to come again Id advise you behave.”

“P-please,” you plead to her, legs shaking as you whimper her name over and over like a prayer.

“I said no, i swear to god I’ll ruin every fucking orgasm,” sliding her two fingers into your clenching hole she drives slow pumps as she returns her mouth to your clit.

Your face contorts in concentration, attempting to hold yourself back but you could only be held off for so long.

“Ellie- Ellie!” bursting at the seams, your body detesting her rules, letting the hot white cum coat her fingers. She only fucks you harder, faster through your orgasm. This is a game you weren’t to win, rather to allow herself to revel in your pain. She got off on destroying your mind, making it to where you can only be pleased by her punishment.

Ellie kept her word, working you up on the edge of finishing and stopping completely, laughing at your pathetic state, crying and begging to come.

Clipping your wings, she hung them on her walls as a trophy. Pleas echoing her room, come splattering her sheets, your lips chapped and neglected.

[rahultech]

PUBG Mobile Lite New stylish Name and Symbols For Boys and Girl

PUBG Mobile Lite New stylish Name and Symbols For Boys and Girl

In the post, you will know such best names in which you can make the PUBG Lite ID name of your pubg mobile lite more attractive. Whenever you enter the match, when you see your kill message in front of the player, you will feel very comfortable if your stylish ID is excellent. Then you will know in this article many such names, out of which you will get a chance to multiple. The symbol and…

[chiriwritesstuff]

The Girl in IT - 3. Vroom Vroom

A Boss! Joel Miller x IT Specialist F! Reader AU

The LIST │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)

Chapter Preview: "I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself." He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?" You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?" "Just like that." "Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue." "Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

Chapter Warnings & Tags: No outbreak AU, Boss x Employee Relationship, Sugar Daddy Lite, Daddy Kink, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, Age Gap, Praise kink, Overstimulation, Squirting, Older Man/Younger woman, So much dirty talk, DD/lg (kinda? they're both into it), Vaginal Fingering, Exhibitionism, No PIV (yet), Virgin Reader

Word Count: 6K

A/N & Chapter Notes: Two birthdays, ten years apart.

This is filthy, and I have no regrets.

Hope you enjoy!

Ten Years Earlier.

Joel lingers outside your house, the lively sounds of your 26th birthday party spilling into the night air through open windows. He adjusts the collar of his chambray button-down, opting for a change from his usual flannel attire. With his hair slicked back and facial hair neatly trimmed, he sighs, contemplating the small bouquet of sunflowers he acquired from a nearby florist.

His mind goes to the conversation he had with the florist earlier.

"Sunflowers? That's an interesting choice." The florist smiles, gently taking the flowers from his hand. "Did you need this wrapped? Maybe a bit of ribbon?"

Joel nods. "Please. It's for—"

The florist glances at him, a twinkle in her eyes as she observes his nervous demeanor. "Did you know that the sunflower symbolizes adoration? It's the perfect flower to give to someone you're interested in."

"Oh, it's nothing like that, It's for a... a friend. It's her birthday today."

The florist gives Joel a wry look. "If she's just a friend, might I suggest daisies? Surely they would be more appropriate and cheaper—"

Joel shakes his head. "The sunflowers," he motions to her hand. "Please."

He smiles at the memory, looking at the bouquet once more, knowing he made the right choice.  

He spots you through the window, the vibrant yellow of your sundress gracefully accentuating your curves, creating an ethereal silhouette that seems to glow, like a beacon of light calling out to him. His breath catches in his throat as he watches you. A genuine laugh escapes you, a sound that always catches him off guard, echoing through the air with a light that he finds irresistible.

"Joel," your father approaches, his expression clearly showing his displeasure. "What are you doing here?"

"Hello Sir, Well, I'm here for a birthday party, and-" he lifts the invitation, "I believe I was invited."

"I can see that, but the question is why. Surely, a man of your age at a party filled with twenty-year-olds? Doesn't that seem... odd to you?"

"It's only odd if you make it odd, I reckon."

"Can I ask you a serious question? What are your intentions with my daughter?"

"Well, I would like to wish her a Happy Birthday, maybe eat a little cake-"

"... and how old are you, Joel? aren't you a bit bothered by the fact that your daughter is older than mine?"

"... well, she's not, sir." Joel smiles, "She's older than Sarah."

Unamused, your father continues. "I'm going to level with you. I'm not about to let my daughter be swept away by some middle-aged man barely scraping by." He shoots Joel a stern look, shaking his head in disapproval. "My daughter deserves the world, and quite frankly, I won't have her settle for someone beneath her. Not for some small-time contractor."

"Sir, that's not my intention at all. Sugar invited me, and-"

He shakes his head in disgust. "I think you should go, Joel. Take your flowers and go. You're lucky I let you still have this job."

Joel nods in defeat, his gaze lingering on you through the window. He takes a final appreciative look at you, radiant in your yellow dress, and offers a warm smile. Turning towards your father, he speaks with sincerity, "I apologize for any disturbance, sir." Joel strides purposefully towards his truck, adding, "Please convey my regrets to your wife."

Present day.

Joel: Hey Sugar, did you head out to the office yet? Sugar: Hi Mr. Miller, Good Morning! No, I haven't. Still getting ready. Should be heading out in 15.   Did you need something? Did you get locked out of the company portal again? I told you that we change passwords every six months, I wrote it on a sticky note for you like you asked! Joel: No, Sugar, I haven't. It concerns me how little faith you have in me. I am not that hopeless! For your information, I am not in the office yet. Sugar: Oh? So it wasn't you and Ellie trying to figure out how you managed to print the printer manual ten times over last week? Joel: I'm sure that was Tommy, but it's ok, I forgive you. Anyway, does this mean you're still at home? Sugar: Sure, Joel. Ellie would say otherwise. Yes?? Joel: ??? Not sure if you're at home? Sugar:  No. Yes. I'm at home. Joel: Good.   I'm outside.

"Joel," you say, locking your front door, looking surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm kidnapping you for the day," Joel announces from his truck. "Thought I'd give you a ride to work." He winks as he exits out of the cab, wearing a chambray shirt and jeans instead of his usual work-issued flannel. It's a nice change, being that you didn't think the man owned anything other than flannels. "Come on, I've got coffee and donuts."

You give him a wry smile. "What if I'm not a coffee person?"

Joel presents a coffee to-go cup, a tea bag tag hanging out. "Lucky for you, I've got your favorite green tea."

"Smooth move, Miller," you grin, approaching him and planting a kiss on his cheek. "Very smooth."

"What can I say? I have excellent attention to detail, especially when it comes to you."

"Just not with computers, right?"

"Alright, alright, none of your teasing this morning, why don't you hop in," Joel grins, holding the passenger door open for you. You slide into the truck, still puzzled by his unexpected visit.

As he drives away, the scenery doesn't match the route to the office. You raise an eyebrow, looking at Joel with a playful smirk. "This doesn't look like the way to work. Where are we going?"

"Well, if I told you, then it would ruin the surprise, now would it?"

You snort. "What's happening today that's so important it warrants a surprise?"

Joel glances at you, a wide smile on his face. "A little birdy told me that it's someone's birthday today."

"Yeah and? It doesn't mean that we blow work off, I actually have a scheduled meeting with Tess today-"

"Fuck Tess."

You frown. "Joel, be serious."

"I am serious. I handled Tess. She's fine, don't you worry your pretty little head off, she's ok with pushing back to tomorrow."

You look at him warily, sighing. "I got a bad feeling about this."

Joel reaches over and kisses your forehead. "Don't frown, baby. None of that nonsense is allowed when we're together, okay? Just let me do something nice for you on your birthday. Nothing too crazy, promise."

"Why do I have the feeling that you don't mean that?"

Joel drives into the mall's parking lot, heading towards Neiman Marcus, driving into the nearest parking stall to its entrance. 

He cuts the ignition to the truck. "OK, I don't promise. I intend on dragging you into the store whether you like it or not, sliding my shiny Amex to the first salesperson I see, and spoiling the absolute shit outta you. Do you have a problem with that, baby?"

"What if I allow you to spoil me from the comfort of the clearance rack?"

"Sorry to break it to you, baby, but this Amex won't work on anything discounted. Do you know what it means to have a black one of these?"

"That you have a big cock and an even bigger ego?"

"Funny. What it really means is that I can walk into one of them Tesla dealerships and buy you a Model X before you can ask me if I'm being serious." He takes your hand in his. "Because I am. Serious, that is."

You scoff, sinking further into your seat. "You're not going to buy me a Tesla."

He laughs. "Maybe, maybe not. I do know you need a new car, and I know one thing for sure—" He gives you a wry smile as he lifts your chin to face him. "There's no way in hell I'm going to let you drive that damn death trap anymore, Sugar."

"Hey! I'll have you know, I've had that death trap since college, it's the first thing I bought without my father's money!" you huff, "Now that I'm not in the ninth layer of Hell at Best Buy anymore, I can finally afford to buy myself a car. You know, something sensible, like a Kia."

"A Kia? Baby... only more reason for me to buy you a new car. Tell me, if you could have any car, money, and cost be dammed, what would it be? Sky's the limit."

"Seriously?"

He leans in, eyes challenging. "Try me."

"I want that Model X. Blacked out. The one that drives itself."

He nods approvingly, not bothering to conceal his satisfaction. "Done. Anything else?"

You can't help but scoff at the audacity. "Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Come on, Joel. You don't just surprise employees with new cars out of the blue."

"Well, lucky for you, you're not just any employee."

A smile tugs at your lips, appreciating the unexpected attention. "Really?" you playfully inquire. "So, I'm more than just a random employee, huh?"

Joel gently caresses your chin, offering a small, satisfied smirk.

"No, Sugar, you're not just some random employee," he declares, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips. "You're everything."

"You don't mean that—" you stutter, "Joel, what's going on? Why are you doing this? I'm not someone to be bought or bribed like I'm some sugar baby. I liked you back then, before all of this—"

"When I had nothing? When my company was still in the red, when your father's job was the only one turning a profit," he peers down at you. "What if I told you that I wouldn't be in this position if it weren't for you? If your father didn't talk some sense into me all those years ago, I wouldn't have worked my ass off to get where I am now."

Your eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"

Joel lets out a heavy sigh, his gaze intense. "Your father made it clear back then that I wasn't good enough for you. He didn't think I was the right fit for you. He did me a favor if I think about it now. It was your father's skepticism that fueled my determination to prove him wrong, to build something from the ground up."

Your mind races, trying to grasp the weight of his revelation. "But why keep it a secret? Why now? You didn't give me any signs that you were interested in me, I even invited you to my birthday party, which you didn't even bother showing up to!"

Joel winces. "Yeah, about that-"

Your face softens. "Wait, Joel, the sunflowers?"

"Your father made sure to point out the inappropriateness of a middle-aged man attending a party full of co-eds. Thinking about it, it wouldn't have been a good look, especially since I couldn't take my eyes off of you, wearing that yellow dress… I was enchanted by you, baby girl."

You blush, smacking his shoulder. "Oh, that dress was horrendous. My mom made me wear it!"

"Well, remind me to thank your mom for giving me the mental image I've had of you all these years."

"You know, that explains why the sunflowers were in the trash can, I thought it was so odd! They were beautiful, by the way. I snuck them out and kept them in my room, you know." You shake your head. "I can't believe my dad would do something like this. I hate that I stuck around for so long. I wish I knew, Joel. Back then. You were the only person I looked forward to coming that night, and when you didn't, I thought-"

"Well, I was there, baby."

"… but you didn't stay! How was I supposed to know?!"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "I didn't want you to feel like you were settling or that my feelings were tied to any of this. I needed to prove myself first. I didn't want you to think I was using you or that I wasn't good enough for you."

A mix of emotions swirls within you—surprise, confusion, and a hint of realization. "Joel, I had no idea. But why go to such lengths now? Buying me a car, showering me with gifts?"

He looks into your eyes, his expression sincere. "Because, despite everything, my feelings for you have always been genuine. I wanted you to see that I can give you the life you deserve and that I've overcome the doubts from back then. I had nothing to give to you back then, hell, I was being eaten alive by debt, I couldn't put Sarah through college - she worked her ass off trying to get as many scholarships as she could on her own. I wasn't in a position to make you mine, not yet."

"Joel," you say, taking his face in your hands, a sad smile on your face. "Do you think I care about all of this? I would have been with you then, all you had to do was ask."

"Well, I'm asking you now. Will you let me make up for missing your birthday all those years ago up to you?"

You give him a small smile. "Okay."

Joel breathes a sigh of relief. "Okay. Now, get out of the truck and into the store. That's an order."

You share a playful eye roll before complying, opening the truck door, and stepping into the crisp air outside. The familiar chime of the entrance doors signals your arrival at Neiman Marcus.

Joel walks beside you, his arm casually draped around your shoulders as you both make your way into the store. The ambiance of luxury surrounds you, and the scent of high-end perfumes lingers in the air. You can't help but marvel at the elegant displays showcasing the latest in fashion and accessories, the air smelling distinctively expensive and high class, something you would never associate yourself with.  

"So, what's the plan?" you ask, hesitation evident in your voice.

Joel grins, steering you towards the women's clothing section. "I'm looking for just the right-" he stops midsentence, his eyes locking onto the stylishly dressed woman lying in wait for her next victim.  

"Lenore!" he shouts, "Just the person I was hoping to find."

"Mr. Miller! What a delightful surprise," the saleswoman exclaims, her face lighting up. "What brings you here? how are your girls?"

"They're doing fine, thank you for asking."

"... and who is this pretty baby peeking out from behind you?" she asks, casting a warm smile your way. You instinctively recoil at the unexpected attention, a familiar sensation from the years spent trailing your mother at Neiman’s, deliberately making yourself inconspicuous to deter any unwanted conversations. It felt safer that way, you reflect, offering Lenore a slight smile. "There's our lovely girl. No need to hide behind this old dog; you're far more interesting to look at than he is!"

"Lenore, allow me to introduce you to someone very special—this is Sugar," Joel says with a proud smile, gesturing towards you.

"Sugar, what a sweet name! Pleasure to meet you," Lenore responds, extending a hand in a friendly gesture.

The tension from earlier begins to dissipate as you shake Lenore's hand and manage a genuine smile. "Nice to meet you too, Lenore."

"Sugar, why don't you take a look at the clothes over there and let me talk business with Lenore for a second?" You raise your eyebrows in suspicion, "Maybe you'll see something you like?"

Joel, his eyes gleaming with excitement, leans in and whispers, "Lenore, today is no ordinary day. It's Sugar's birthday, and I'm in the mood to make it special for her. We're going to be spending an obscene amount of money today, so I hope you're ready. You got your work cut out for you, I promise you that."

"Nothing can be as worse than the time I tried to convince Ellie to wear a gown for the prom last year," she winces, "Sorry about that again, Mr. Miller." She slides up beside Joel, flashing him a knowing smirk. "How obscene are we talking?"

Joel hands over his sleek black Amex, and Lenore's eyes widen in surprise. "Obscene. Don't let her talk you out of something because of the price, hell, rip off the damn tags if you have to." He steals a quick glance back at you, a vision standing amongst the designer goods, a subtle smile on his face. He glances at Lenore once more. "Do we have an understanding?"

The saleswoman nods her head frantically, pocketing the Amex in her pocket, the weight of it making an indentation through her blazer. "Understood, Mr. Miller. I'll fetch you a coffee and set up a seat for you in her dressing room. Is there anything else?

Joel nods. "Yeah. Do your worst, Lenore."

Lenore gives Joel one last look as she heads towards you, not hiding the fact that you look like a deer caught in the headlights. She places a hand on the small of your back. "Come along dear, we're on a mission." She gives you a conspiratorial smile. "You're in desperate need of Celine."

Lenore scrutinizes you for a moment, gently lifting your arms to assess your form. "I take it you're a size 10?"

Surprised, you ask, "How did you know?"

"Honey, I've been here for the last twenty years. Not only can I tell your dress and bra size, but I've also mastered the subtle art of reading people." She confidently places her hands on your hips, nodding to herself. "People are not as secretive as they think. I can dissect their entire life story the moment they walk in the door."

Curious, you inquire, "Oh? And what conclusion did you make about me?"

Lenore begins rifling through the racks, selecting a few monochromatic pieces. "Well, you seem to go through life trying to hide yourself."

"Is it that obvious?" you ask with a hint of self-awareness.

Lenore continues her assessment, her experienced eyes scanning the clothing options she's pulled out. "You go through life trying to hide yourself," she repeats, her tone thoughtful. "But, sweetheart, hiding doesn't mean you're weak or scared. It means you've faced challenges, learned to protect yourself."

She steps back, considering you with a knowing gaze. "We all wear different masks, dear. It's just a matter of finding the one that feels right for the occasion. Now, tell me, what's the story behind the layers you've wrapped yourself in?"

"Well..." you bite your lip thoughtfully, "Today is my 36th birthday. My mom, she had me when she was 26. By the time she was my age, she had her whole life figured out - the husband, the kid, the house. I remember thinking how much I wanted that for myself, how I thought my life would go... and now, at 36," you pause, sighing, "I don't have any of that. I'm not married, I don't have any kids, and I rent an absurdly overpriced shoebox that I share with my cat," you softly chuckle to yourself.

"It's not like I haven't tried to put myself out there. I have—met a few people, went on a couple of dates, which—I felt like wasn't terrible, you know?" You admire a sheath dress on the rack, adding it to the growing pile of pieces Lenore has accumulated. "...but it was always just a first date, and then rejection, maybe if they were kind, but most of the time I never hear from them again. After a while, after I hit 30, I just... stopped. I stopped trying to put myself out there. It's exhausting, and I can't keep wondering what makes me so undesirable."

"Sometimes... Sometimes I feel like I'm defective, too broken for anyone, not good enough to have the kind of life I want."

"Sweetheart, life rarely follows the script we write for it. Comparing your journey to your mother's or anyone else's is like comparing apples to oranges. Each story is unique, and yours is still unfolding," she reassures you.

She continues sorting through the clothes, selecting pieces that seem to resonate with your style. "Now, about those layers you wear," she begins, her focus returning to the task at hand. "Perhaps it's time to shed the expectations and judgments, not just from others but also from yourself. These layers, they're not defects; they're experiences that have shaped you."

Lenore hands you a beautifully tailored blazer and nods approvingly. "Try this on. Let's see how it feels."

As you slip into the blazer, Lenore continues, "You deserve a life that brings you joy, and that starts with accepting yourself. When you embrace who you are, others will too. It's not about being 'good enough'; it's about being authentically you."

Lenore, her hands expertly moving through the racks, pauses for a moment, her gaze thoughtful. "And what about Mr. Miller?" she asks with a knowing smile. "There's a story there too, isn't it?"

You glance at her, surprised by her perceptiveness. "Joel? Well, we've known each other for ten years, but we've only worked together for six months. There's nothing more to it than that."

Lenore raises an eyebrow. "Sweetheart, I've been around enough to recognize when there's something more. The way he looks at you, the way he cares—it goes beyond the confines of a professional relationship."

You hesitate, unsure of how to respond. Lenore gently continues, "I've seen people in love, and I've seen people trying to hide it. Joel's got a soft spot for you, dear. It's written all over him."

"Is it? because with my track record, all it feels like is me waiting for the other shoe to drop. I like him... I've liked him", you correct yourself, "...for a very long time. I tried to put myself out there to him back then, only for him to reject me. What makes me different now? What didn't I have then?"

Lenore listens attentively, her gaze filled with compassion. "Sweetheart, people change, circumstances change. What may not have worked before doesn't define your worth or potential now. Maybe back then, Joel wasn't ready or didn't see what was right in front of him. It doesn't mean you lacked anything—it just wasn't the right time."

She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Love can be messy, complicated, and unpredictable. But if you feel something for Joel, and there's a chance he feels the same now, it's worth exploring. Give yourself permission to embrace the present without being burdened by the past." She gives you one last smile, her tiny frame effortlessly handling the mountain of clothes with an ease that comes with her years of experience. "Come on, we can't leave Mr. Miller waiting. He's already waiting for you in your dressing room."

Joel is already seated in the room one would call a dressing room, a vast space encapsulated by mirrors. Lenore places the clothes on the rack, giving the two of you one last-knowing nod as she makes her way to the door. "I'll give you guys some privacy," she winks, her hands on the doorknob. "You just holler if you need anything, okay?" You smile meekly at her as Joel nods. "Thank you, Lenore."

"Well', you breathe, making your way to the center of the room, taking it all in. "This is... something."

"It is, right? Perfect amount of mirrors to admire your form."

"It's just... a lot, Joel. I'm not used to seeing myself like this."

"Like what, baby?" He asks, making his way over to you as you fiddle nervously in place. Tenderly, he envelops you in his arms, hands brushing away stray strands of hair behind your ears. "Turn around and face the mirror," he softly directs, gently guiding you by the hips. You find yourself in front of the mirror, Joel standing behind you, his eyes locking with yours as his hands trace down your silhouette, fingers deftly navigating the buttons of your blouse.

"Let me paint a picture for you," Joel whispers in your ear, his eyes locked with yours through the mirror as he delicately starts to unbutton. "I see someone who drives me fucking crazy." Pausing at the last button, he eases your top from the waistband of your skirt, peeling the fabric from your skin to unveil the modest cotton bralette you chose for the day. "Beautiful," he breathes, slipping your top from your shoulders. A shiver runs through you as his hands graze your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

"You think you can hide yourself behind all of these clothes but I see you, Sugar. I've seen what's inside, and I would like to get to know that girl that's begging to come out of that shell of yours." His fingers linger on the elastic at your waist, his eyes silently asking for consent. You nod, taking a deep breath as he slowly slides your skirt down your hips, leaving you standing against him in just your underthings, your body suddenly on fire as he continues to hold you against him. You swear you can feel the hardness of his desire from behind as he continues to caress you, his eyes never leaving yours. "Will you show me?" 

His fingers find the skin of your torso, and you shudder and gasp at how it suddenly ignites you, the fire you kept dormant for so long suddenly ablaze from his ministrations, leaving you breathless. He places wet open-mouthed kisses along the length of your neck, his eyes never leaving yours as his fingers start to travel down to your waist.  

The corner of his mouth creeps slowly upwards. "Are you going to let me show you just how much I fucking adore you?"

You swallow thickly, nodding absentmindedly as you find yourself caught in his web, exactly where he wants you. "Yes", you whisper, "Please, Joel."

"Do you know how long I've waited for you?" he whispers, his fingertips grazing the outline of your panties, inching lower and lower, the sensation driving you mad with want. You instinctively rub your thighs together, your body craving more friction than what's currently being provided. Joel tsks at the gesture, shaking his head at you through the mirror. "You keep these legs spread for me, baby." His fingers wander upwards, hooking onto the elastic of your underwear, as he watches you closely, a question written across his face. He quirks his eyebrow at you curiously.  

It was all you needed to know just exactly what he was asking.

You give him a tiny nod.  

"Use your words, baby girl. I need to know for sure that this is what you want. I need you to be specific," he commands, his fingers twitching against your skin.

"Please Joel," you whisper, the entirety of your body trembling against his, "Please undress me."

He grins wickedly as he complies, the fabric slipping slowly down your hips, peeling gently down your legs. "I remember the day we first met at your house, how shy and skittish you were. I remember what you wore, even then," he says, taking his time, your panties caught on the ankle of your foot. He tugs them free, his eyes darkening as he realizes that they are soaked through with your slick, glistening under the lowlight of the dressing room.  

You swear you hear his breath quickening as he holds them high against the light in reverence, tucking the scrap piece of fabric into his back pocket.  

"Did you know that you were going to see me that day?" he asks, turning his attention back to you. "Is that why you didn't bother to wear a bra under that shirt of yours?" He shakes his head slowly as he places his hands on your hips once more, his fingers slowly making their way down to your inner thighs. "It was downright indecent, the fabric was so thin I could practically see your tits," his voice sounds more considerably wrecked as he slides his fingers upwards until they hit your slit, a calloused finger expertly parting your lips until they reach the button of your clit.  

He stops. "Have you ever let anyone touch you like this before?"

You shake your head in response, your body arching against his as you desperately seek his touch. "I came close once, back in college, but I-" your voice gets caught in your throat as Joel eases his finger through your lips once more, his fingertips at the precipice of your entrance. You can't help the moan that escapes your lips. He pulls his fingers away from your heat as he reaches into his back pocket, reaching for your panties as he holds the wad of fabric against your mouth. "Open," he commands, stuffing your mouth with the fabric, the tang of your slick so sharp it makes your mouth water even more. "This is a public place, baby, I can't risk us getting kicked out because you can't control yourself, you hear? Nod if you understand me."

You nod.

"Good." He bends forwards slightly, his fingers parting your slit once more, your pussy lips quivering as he gathers your slick, his fingertips breaching your entrance once more. "I know you're still a virgin, Sugar", he breathes as he kisses your neck once more, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'm not going to fuck you with my cock in a dressing room, but I am going to show you just how you make me feel. Is that okay?"

You nod once more, your voice muffled through the fabric of your panties. He breaches your entrance slowly, the thickness of his finger filling you as your body jolts from the intrusion, your eyes closing in pleasure.  

"Look at me, Sugar. Look at what I'm doing to you."

Your eyes shoot open as you see Joel adding another finger into you, the squelch of your wetness against his fingers echoing loudly throughout the room as they slowly pump in and out of your pussy, his fingers crooking inside you slightly as your hips shift against his erection. Joel groans at that, shifting his thigh between your legs. "Lean against me, baby. Watch as I fuck you with my fingers."

You look at yourself in the mirror, the straps of your bralette sliding down your shoulders as Joel fingers you in earnest, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you wither and tremble against his thigh. Joel pulls the chair he was sitting on earlier towards the both of you, pulling his fingers out of you once more as he plops onto the seat, spreading his legs. He beckons his fingers coated in your slick at you. "Come sit on Daddy's lap like a good little girl." 

You stumble inelegantly onto his lap, his hands spreading your legs to rest on his, spreading you out entirely as he gazes at your pussy in the mirror, your ass situated on his jean-covered cock as he starts to grind against you. He pulls your breasts out from the confines of your bralette, the slick of your pussy leaving a trail against your skin as he cups your tits, pinching your nipples as he groans into your neck. "Look at you," he praises, slipping his fingers into your pussy as he begins to finger fuck you into oblivion. You look completely debauched as he thoroughly fucks you, his groans growing louder as he continues to grind his cock against the swell of your ass.  

"Sweet innocent little Sugar, playing hooky and getting wrecked by her boss in public", he spits, his fingers increasing in speed as you mewl against the fabric in your mouth. "What would everyone say, huh? Pulling into the parking lot with your brand new Tesla, walking into the office tomorrow morning in your brand new clothes Daddy bought you?" He rubs his thumb against your clit, your body arching back as you cry from overstimulation. "Are you going to take everything that I'm going to give you?" he pulls the fabric from your mouth, a line of saliva trailing it as you breathe harshly, desperately trying to even your breath. "I asked you a question, Sugar. Are you going to take everything I give you?" he rips his fingers out of your pussy as it clenches on nothing, whining from being so violently edged out. He slaps your pussy for good measure, and you swear you could come from the motion alone. "Answer me!" he growls in your ear.  

"Yes!" you half-scream. "Joel, it's too much, I can't-"

"Yes, you can, baby.  Fuck- keep grinding that ass on my cock, I'm so fucking close", he grips your hip harshly, his fingers digging into the meat of your skin you swear it'll leave a mark. "I can feel you quivering for me, baby, are you gonna come?" He's thrusting, thrusting so harshly against you it's almost to the point of pain, but you're so caught up chasing your release that the pain riles you up, you find yourself gyrating against his hardness as Joel nearly jumps out of his seat in response.  

"Joel, what's happening? I feel so wet, you need to stop, I feel like I'm gonna-" You gasp, the pressure building within you so strongly it feels like you're going to implode. Your body moves in sync with his, the groans and shouts of pleasure building, the tears flowing freely down your cheeks. "It's too much, it's too-" You scream, a gush of wetness flooding out of you as Joel fingers you to completion, a look of shock on your face as he grips your hips and comes in his jeans.  

"FUCK!" he groans as he shoots his load so violently you swear you can feel the ropes of cum through his jeans as he comes down from his high. You sob into his shoulder, his mouth desperately finding yours as he finally kisses you, his tongue running along the seam of your lips, begging for entrance as he grips the back of your head. You kiss him back in earnest, turning yourself around and straddling his thighs, your bare pussy raw against the fabric of his jeans. "Thank you," he mumbles against your lips, his hands cupping your cheeks, his thumbs wiping your tears away. "You did so good, baby, so fucking good, you came so hard for me you fucking squirted, FUCK! Such a perfect girl, my perfect girl-" 

Your eyes widen in shock as you take in the scene before you, the wetness of your slick coating the surface of the dressing room. "Joel, I can't believe I-" You shift on his lap, panicking. "Fuck, Joel, what are we gonna do? I just came all over the dressing room, in Neiman Marcus for fucks sake-"

Joel chuckles softly, gently tucking your hair behind your ears. "Do you realize the power a black Amex wields? Silence. Lenore's commission today will be outrageous; a few stains here and there won't even register."

"But what if it ruined the merchandise? I haven't even tried anything on—"

"No need. Lenore's already taken care of it on the card. I trust her taste." He plants another tender kiss on your lips, retrieving a sleek silver card from his jeans pocket, the unmistakable Tesla logo gleaming.

He hands you the card with a smirk, and your eyes widen in astonishment as you delicately accept it.

"Happy Birthday, Baby."

The Updated List: (Line items 4, 15 & 16 completed this chapter_)

Taglist: @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat, @gwendibleywrites, @joeldjarin, @brittmb115, @thewiigers,

@auteurdelabre, @quicax3, @casa-boiardi, @amyispxnk, @untamedheart81,

@paleidiot, @bbiophiliaa, @laurrrra, @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 (I apologize if I missed anyone, but if you are looking for any of my fic updates, please feel free to follow my updates blog @chiriwritesstuffnotifs!)

[wastehound-voof]

So the last of the old McDonald's restaurants in the area has been demolished and a gray cube McDonald's will be built in it's place.

What is this type of architecture called? Commercial brutalist-lite? Ultra resellable gray cube architecture? Death of imagination and joy?

Yes, it's a McDonald's, a now long standing symbol of corporate American fast food product, but it had colors. It had characters. Starbucks had colors, it had character. Hell, they got rid of the Donut from Dunkin Donuts, and I've even seen one simply branded DD. Why?

"Why do you care about mediocre chain establishments?"

Because I have to see them. They aren't going away. And if I have to see them in towns and cities, I want to see color and something relatively pleasing to the eye, not a sea of cold gray and cubes.

[anemonepalustris]

so the new episode, huh? having read a few of the things people smarter than i have said about the episode brings me to an interesting thought: whenever the doctor isn’t there the companion is not there either, not in doctor who; having a whole episode from the exclusive pov of the companion, the doctor marking the beginning and the end of the episode, both moments being the same with minor changes.

the one episode that was doctor-lite that i kept thinking about was ‘Don’t Blink’. one of the more prominent, cult episodes not involving the main actors due to budget and scheduling reasons constraining it to what it was.

throughout the episode we get the pre-recorded, one-sided conversation from the doctor in the past arguing with one of the main characters in the present, the bumping of the doctor and martha into one of the people who will be taken by the angels and martha receiving the script written by one of the main characters for the aforementioned convo. martha is never on her own for long, and neither is the doctor; they’re in a sort of symbiosis, where one goes the other can be inferred.

73 yards is all about ruby getting constantly abandoned because of the thing that follows her at exactly 73 yards distance, with a lot of very clever piecing of details together, from 2049, to Mad Jack, the welsh, the fairy circle, all coming together to form a coherent narrative, even though there was none.

in the same way the doctor likes to sprinkle in facts from their various off-screen adventures, fifteen mentions the prime minister. the mad jack bit was all about the locals taking what ruby read and adding it to their fucking with her, wherein factor in the welsh and the fairy circle. all of these tidbits that are on their own isolated incidents get linked together, by ruby, who is our pov character for the episode with the doctor… gone.

the episode nudges the idea that the doctor is hiding out in the tardis, having ran from ruby in the same way we see happen later on in the episode, but we don’t necessarily get confirmation. the part that is most interesting to me is the tardis staying there, instead of it going away. it’s the ‘time and relative dimension in space’ box, so why not leave? sure, it’s symbolic, symbols are reserved for fairytales and fiction, doctor who admittedly is that, but without the knowledge of what happened to the doctor, the leap from ‘the tardis is locked, where is the doctor?’ to ‘of course the doctor abandoned me and changed the locks’ seems a bit extreme.

the doctor would not leave their tardis just getting eaten away at by moss there if they where inside, so where is the doctor? one user pointed out that ‘the lack of an intro’ seemed wrong, like the doctor simply got plucked out of the reality in which him and ruby where in wales and now 73 yards is almost… not an episode? of course it is, we all watched it, but without the doctor, with ruby aging and getting abandoned, with the clear supernatural element that never gets explained away in a very tenth era ‘but it was aliens all along!’; the switch to something other slowly seeping in until the whole thing is over. it’s all alright now, and then the intro comes in. except it’s the outro. we’re done. tune in next week for a fresh serving of— hey, what was that all about?

another user on here pointed out that there is a ‘bad dream logic’ about the episode, which is reminiscent of the concept of bad luck machinery and the language of knots in the ‘Church on Ruby Road’, except there is no doctor to have studied ruby and figured out what happens. ruby has to make it work.

the way the doctor is forcibly removed from the premises of wales, so the story can happen in the way it does, is so jarring: it’s doctor who, where’s the doctor? we don’t know. on my first watch, i slotted the tardis staying there into one of those ‘oh, the tardis doesn’t work this episode, so the main conflict can’t be solved in 0.2 seconds’ and waited for the doctor to come in and explain all that. to the audience surrogate. who’s stranded there, without answers, making up her own as she goes along from all of the things that seem relevant. kind of like fan theories, now that i think about it. no doctor, no tardis, unresolved conflict.

we know how this goes: locals help out, like in ‘The Fires of Pompeii’— no, wait a second, they’re really unhelpful. alright, then the parents/friends help out, like mickey in the ‘Aliens of London’, wherever and however they can; see! carol is about to confront the woman following ruby and— cold, hateful eyes look back at ruby from her mother’s face, forcing ruby out of her life. ah, UNIT, surely…well, fuck, we’re really in it now.

sure, ruby saves the world, becoming the doctor in a sort of clara oswald way, only to then… age. aging, in a show all about a virtually immortal alien running about, is daunting. seeing ruby next to the tardis, having lived an unremarkable enough life, a lonely life, changed so fully from who she was at the beginning of the episode, next to an aged tardis is horrible; in the way that death is horrible, with grief and longing as the coating of the feeling of something being wrong.

an episode that comes to mind in a world where the doctor dies is ‘Turn Left’, but it’s incomparable. we knew what happened, why it happened and who benefitted from all of it. here it’s just… it’s nothing like doctor who. all of these episodes i mentioned are cornerstones of the first RTD run of the show, when doctor who was at a peak, arguably the most recognisable era of the show: when all they taught us is turned on its head in such a manner, doctor who indeed feels wrong because all of our data tells us it is.

this season is making very deliberate, fourth-wall breaking jabs at the audience, and this is by far one of the most elaborate ones yet: ‘we know you know our tricks, but we’ve got more things in store’. it’s an episode that is packed full of subversion of expectations and is less sci-fi and more magic, barely doctor who, or rather a new kind.

[ominouspuff]

King Midas were a mercy

Completed request for this

Requested by @black-cat-babe - palette #2 - Thrawn - A Defining Moment

Thank you for the request, @black-cat-babe! This one was tricky; I’ve never read the Thrawn trilogy, so my niece helped me out and gave me the main concept. I like the idea of Thrawn trying to create art of his own at some point, and being challenged by his own limitations and the interpretive significance of them.

Taking my time with these, still planning to finish them all.

[c0rrupt4]

𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘆 •︎ Il Dottore x Male Reader

This is Chapter 1. You can read the prologue here. Or the full book here.

"What this is magnificent..." was all Dottore could utter as he wandered around in the forsaken temple. The temple was in pristine shape, considering it was abandoned and deep underneath Sumeru's golden sands you'd think the sacred place would be damaged. Yet it was in perfect shape. Dottore could not help but touch the pillars of the entrance. Between the pointed arches, flying buttresses, and the ribbed vaults. Dottore was left in awe. He took in the sheer majesty of these marble walls and pillars.

"Lord Dottore? Shall we move on?" Interrupted the Fatui captain.

"Give me a minute, woman."

"A-apologies I-"

"Stop your buffoonery, Viva. Let us move on." Dottore huffed as he began walking down the grey marble halls. The walls were dripping with secrets and power, and Dottore was planning to get to the bottom of it.

Every step the two took made them tremble, maybe it was the excitement, or maybe it was the feeling of such a strong presence in the temple. Whatever it was, it made them shiver with anticipation.

With great anticipation, Dottore walked up to the stone doors and stopped to admire them. The stone doors had a garden carved into them and were in pristine shape. Dottore ran his fingers against the doors before clearing his throat and pushing the doors open.

As Dottore walked into what looked like a sanctuary, it was dark and dimly lit, the only thing providing light was two candlesticks that held purple flames. The candlesticks were on the sides of a 10ft statue of an elven woman. The statue looked so real as if an elven woman had turned to stone amidst her dance. In one hand she held an empty lantern while in the other hand held a blade. The elven woman was beautiful, with long hair that touched the ground, and tattoos that covered her body.

Said tattoos looked like markings or more like a foreign language to Dottore. Or maybe he was reading too far into this.

Dottore, as he moved to approach the statue, something on the floor of the sanctuary caught his eye. A purple chalk circle, that is behind the statue.

Dottore moved the candlestick on the left side to the chalk circle so it would form an 'L' with the statue and other candle. As soon as it happened the two candles blazed a hundred times brighter and every other candle that was in the temple became lit. The temple looked stunning, due to the proper lighting, and Dottore could not help but feel like a kid in the candy aisle as he moved away from the statue to inspect the lit-up temple.

Viva had suddenly gasped, "Lord, Dottore, the statue!" She said with awe.

Dottore swiftly turned around to see the statue of the elven woman, the tattoos that covered her body had glowed a bright vibrant color. Suddenly the stone lantern became lit, holding a firey purple blaze that rivals any of the flames that came from any other candlestick.

Suddenly the ground began to shake, as the flooring underneath the shadow of the lantern began to crack. Something began to emerge out of the ground. A Gateway that was similar to that of the Spiral Abyss, but instead of holding that familiar Khaenri'ah symbol atop, it was an image of a tiara that was ablaze.

"Lite the fire now this day, or turn thy gaze down in shame.

After all thy burden is heavy, but thy reward shall be great."

A voice cried out before the temple stopped shaking. The portal now sat just a few mere inches underneath the statue's lantern, as the bright flame went out in the lantern.

Dottore soon stood up as he dusted off his clothes,  "Viva get up won't you, we have work to do, don't you see!?" Dottore snapped at the frightened Fatui captain as she bounced to her feet.

"Right! Apologies Lord Dottore!"

After hours of inspecting every nook and cranny of this temple, Dottore came to a sure conclusion. The candlesticks on the walls move, there are exactly 12 in the temple, every time one of the candlesticks is rotated, Dottore can hear a mechanism move. It's just a matter of getting the right order.

"Alright Viva, I've figured out your errors.

Move 7 two clicks to the right,

Then rotate 2 a complete 170 degrees,

11 and 12 four clicks to the left,

and 4 and 9 one click right."

Viva sighed as she stood to her feet, tired and exhausted from a long day, but that's what you get for choosing to work under Il Dottore number 2 of the fatui harbingers, but a good portion of the time she wishes she took her chance with Pantalone or Arlecchino. And she would be damned if she were to point out that she had been following Dottore's instructions this entire time and these were actually his errors, but only a fool would do such a thing.

With a heavy heart and sore feet, Viva swiftly got to work rotating the candles. After rotating the candles to Dottore's instructions, the stone statue's lantern relit and the portal opened.

"Thank you for your deeds, our Mistress will greatly reward you." a man's voice called out from the other side of the portal.

A butterfly first flew out of the portal and flew right over to Dottore and gently landed on Dottore's gloved hands. The butterfly was beautiful with a blue and white color pattern, reminding Dottore of the Icy snow back in Snezhnaya. The creature was oddly just as cold as the snow, or maybe it was Dottore's mind playing tricks on him. The butterfly was oddly alluring, calling to him, pleading with him to come... to what he couldn't figure out. Or for much less why.

Dottore's thoughts were cut short as the butterfly was murdered right before his eyes. A man wearing a long robe took the butterfly from Dottore and burned it.

"Why did you-"

"You will thank me later if you allow me to explain." The priest said cutting off Dottore.

The elven priest has long blond hair with bright red eyes to go with it. The man held a blooming gold staff. It was embedded with rubies and had budding and blooming roses all over it, With the top of the staff holding a large rose with a flame coming from it, yet it was perfectly fine. He wore a long black robe, the ends, and the sleeves were laced with a golden lining to match a few gold laces and jewels.

"My name is Feno, I am the head priest who runs the temple on the other side of the portal. What you were holding was one of his parasites. We had an invasion of them swarming the temple, we didn't know why until now."

"I see, was the parasite trying to take blood from me?"

"Lord Dottore should we even trust this man, I mean for all we know-"

"Quiet Viva, and know your place. I'm having an important conversation right now, make yourself useful and go pack up our stuff." Dottore snapped angrily at the Fatui agent for interrupting him.

"Yes, Lord Dottore," Viva said with a bow as she walked off.

"Should you be so harsh to your subordinates?" Feno questioned as his heart couldn't help but weep at the harsh treatment he had just witnessed.

"Please get to the point of this conversation, or step aside so I can explore your world."

"Ah- yes! Dottore was it? I hope you didn't interact with it for long the parasite could have done a number of things to you: infect you, poison you, kill you. Did you feel like the parasite was pulling you in? Giving a sort of familiarity with a certain place? Well, it could have been going through your memories stealing information from you. I have no idea why he would be interested in this planet." Feno rambled on.

"Yes, sorry to interrupt, but who is 'he'?"

【︎ᴜᴘ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪɪ...】︎

「彼」✽

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[ari-zonia]

Decided to revamp my Sinner Slugcats so they're not all just multicolored scugs.

I did look into some of the symbols and stuff of the game, so the writing is more or less "Outlaw, Number", since I wasn't sure how to make a "Sinner" symbol in the RW language, so I just used Outlaw since it has the lowest Karma symbol anyway.

Intricacies under the readmore

Yi Sang: Inspired by daszombes' Deadlands video, he is a "Flying Slugcat", like a sugar glider or flying squirrel. He has no true flight, but it works

Faust: Some sort of Echo or associated. Has her own citizen ID drone of an unknown Iterator, and it also acts as a little scanner (inspired by @astragatwo's take on scug Faust). She still maintains Gourmand's crafting ability, but it might be more taxing with her smaller frame.

Don Quixote: A special breed of Slugcat meant to go fast, her legs are quite powerful, letting her make longer pounces or generally run faster than most other scugs. Obviously, her lack of weight makes her weak to poleplants/worm grass, but y'know.

Ryoshu: Similar to Spearmaster, but by way of King Vulture, she only has one spear directly connected to her that she can recall (it does not act like SM's feeding needles). Also, a subtle detail is that her ears are absolutely massive compared to most scugs, giving her enhanced hearing.

Meursault: (Perhaps a Purposed Being?) He has face armor not unlike a lizard, in fact he's about the same size as a blue lizard. His bite is quite powerful, and he's certainly the best to have in front going through pipes, as his face will deflect spears (should the scavs be aggro or something). He might also have better climbing ability, able to get on walls and such, but he's very heavy so idk

Hong Lu: Bioluminescent, like a fun mix of lantern mice and cyan lizards, he can "turn it off" as it were. His tail also can be used as a small flashbang, but obviously only once (per cycle). Of course, this helps with coalescipedes, but makes him a damn beacon otherwise.

Heathcliff: Still Artificer based, where explosions and such just don't really bother him and he's able to maul enemies (though obviously his bite is weaker than Meur's). He also has a pearl hanging around his neck of unknown use, but clearly given to him by someone special.

Ishmael: Rivulet, but even closer to salamander where she actually has fins, her ability to swim is obviously a cut above everyone else's. She's probably had a bad run in or two with Leviathans. Her cloak is probably a gift from whatever version of Queequeg this world has

Rodion: Also inspired by astragatwo, she's mega fluffy making her very warm. Though, this does make it annoying for her to swim if the area is cold because she'll freeze faster. I still like the idea she can carry more scugs on her, but idk. (She does look more like a fox, but such is the price of floof)

Sinclair: Saint-lite, and still pup-sized (he's an adult, just tiny like Don) so long as he's not at lowest Karma, he has limited ability to incapacitate enemies (not quite enough to ascend) and fly a bit with said ability. I basically wanted to reference his Mark of Cain somehow.

Outis: Ironically, just your average Slugcat. She probably has stuff going on with reputation or maybe she allows Echos to appear on first visit, or convinces Pebbles to not murder everyone immediately

Gregor: Definitely a creature that has been fucked with too much. Originally just a Slugcat that had been spliced with a centiwing (sorta like how the Miros Vultures are hybrids), he seemed to have got infected by the Rot, most likely when whatever Iterator structure he was hanging out around pulled a Pebbles

[the-trans-folk-witch]

A Mini Rant on The Catholic Pentagram

The pentagram much like myself walks two paths. One holy, and one infernal. It is not just a symbol of wicca, witches, satan, or the elements, but one of heaven.

Amien's Cathedral is popular for its inversed pentagram. In old [folk] catholicism the inverse pentagram represented the holy spirit coming down upon christians. It was seen as ethereal fire and the spirit of god himself. Today many folk catholics make this sign over things to bless them as well as the sign of the cross. Just as the crucifix was on many home altars, the inversed pentagram was too! Do not let the New-Agers and wiccan-lites ruin this symbol for you.

The pentagram as stated earlier was used to represent the five elements in occultism. However there was a time it represented the five wounds of christ. (image from @daught3rsofcain)

Along with the five wounds, it was believed to be a symbol of the five senses of man. Smell, taste, touch, sight, and hearing. to place the pentagram at the foot of the cross was representative of god giving us life and of god becoming flesh.

As a folk catholic, I enjoy these older mystical ideas of this symbol. but as a trad witch, I enjoy the satanic aspects of the pentagram too. why cant I have both? In my tradition Jesus and The Devil are treated as yin and yang. As Gemini. As Apollo and Artemis. Both have a place at my altar.

As the inverse pentagram represents divinity it is also the devils horns stirring the heavens.

You can have both. Because they both exist.

rant over.

[strawbubbysugar]

If you've answered this and I am repeating something I am so sorry. I'm also high so...I hope this makes sense and is taken as the lite teasing it was meant to be

Does colorblindness work differently in your au? There's only one type of colorblindness that is actual black and white and effects, "...1 in 100,000 people worldwide." (Color Vision Deficiency, 2015). And that is shades of gray. I'm confused how the soul string, words, artistic symbols, etc. are completely invisible to y/n. You've described every soul mark having colors from Sun's perspective.

So! If those marks have colors they should still be visible as shades of gray, lighter or darker than y/n's skin tone. The string has 2 distinct colors representing Sun and Moon. Even if one color faded into the background the other would be a darker color and thus visible.

Why does y/ngineer NOT see these things? Hmmm?? 🔍🧐

Makes you think

I have answered before! :) Colourblindness in this universe works a bit differently than colourblindness in the real world! In this universe, the specific pigments missing in your eyes that usually see colour are also responsible for showing you the things nobody else can see! ie) soulmate related markings & visuals. This means that being some variation of red/green or other kind of colourblind still allows you the ability to faintly see the marks, whereas full colourblindness (like with the Y/N) means its entirely invisible to you. However, youd still have a soulmate and be able to feel the effects such as the string. The Y/Ngineer was very firm about their soulmate not being an issue because youre not just colourblind.