#there are 1505 days left

[kedreeva]

There are good things in the world still

Today, I had dinner with my partner's family, and saw their Family Friend I hadn't seen in a while. I got to eat good food, drink good drink, and tell and hear stories all night.

Today, I found an absolutely monstrous egg from my quail. 27 grams!! Chicken eggs generally weigh between 40 and 70 grams. Quail eggs generally weigh between 10 and 20 grams, with 14 being a pretty good size.

Today, I got tickets to go see The Fifth Element on the big screen at the local Cinema on Wednesday. To say I am stoked is a vast understatement. I've watched this movie more times than I can count, and seen it once on the big screen when my friends rented one of the mini theaters at the cinema, to play a few movies for someone's birthday.

There are good things left in the world, and this is your invitation to reblog this and share yours, or check the notes if you need a reminder. One day at a time.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐒𝐎 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞.

Characters: Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Geto, Nanami

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 1505

Warnings: Reader is extremely sub coded with Sukuna, but otherwise no warnings really.

NOTE: Although there isn't any smut in this my blog is still very much an adult blog. Anyone under 18 please refrain from interacting with my posts.

𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮

Gojo sleeps like a comfortable cat. He sprawls out over the bed taking up as much space as he can, while also being as close to you as possible. Of course, he can tell when you make even the slightest movement. 

He doesn't like waking up though. He'll crack open an eye to look at you and survey what the problem is. 

Sometimes it's just you going to pee, in which case he cuddles you when you're back. Sometimes you get up and have a bit of water from your bedside table for this he doesn't bother moving at all. 

This time however he realises something is wrong. You're sitting up in bed breathing heavily. He immediately gets up. “What's wrong pookie bear?” he asks. When you don't roll your eyes at the cringey nickname he uses he understands it's probably bad. 

He holds you in his arms and you whisper, as if afraid that any loud noise will shatter the safe space around you. “I dreamed of you… You were dancing around the edge of a volcano and you fell in.” You shudder. Gojo cracks a smile.  

“Is that all then? I’d be fine!” He reassures you, patting your back. “It's just a little volcano!” 

Tears start falling from your face, “TORU! We didn't even have a body to bury!!” 

Gojo takes your face in his hands and makes you look into his brilliant blue eyes. “Baby, I will NEVER fall into a volcano…” You nuzzle into his shoulder and his hand rubs your back, a gesture that calms you down. “And even if I did – I wouldn't die. I'm the strongest, remember?” He grins all cocky. 

You roll your eyes but concede. He's right… He is the strongest. It would take more than falling into a volcano to kill him.

𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢

Fushiguro Toji isn't always the kindest, but he really can't bear seeing you suffer. Usually after putting you to sleep, he likes to stay up and have another drink or make himself a snack while he watches some races on the TV or an action movie of some kind. 

Later at night, he might crawl into bed with you, picking you up and laying you on top of him like a human blanket. And some nights he falls asleep on the couch, TV still on, the plate and glass on the floor. 

One night he puts you to bed and is watching an action movie. Beer in one hand tilting dangerously as he gets drowsy. 

“What a boring fucking film.” He scolds the screen, deciding to turn it off and head to the welcoming softness of your bed. 

He enters the room to find you sitting up, knees to your chest softly sobbing. He tiptoes to you quietly, careful to not startle you. 

“Ummm… are you okay?” 

You move your head some way but it's indecipherable to Toji. He pats your back awkwardly. He asks again, hesitantly, “Did I do something honey?” trying to wrack his brain for anything he might have done to upset you. He had broken a mug a few days ago but didn't think it would be a big deal. He'd already shown you and told you he would get you a new one and you had assured him it wasn't a problem. So what was it? 

Suddenly he felt your arms wrap around his waist. “Toji…” 

He holds you closer. “What's up, buttercup?” 

“Would you leave me without telling me?” 

He furrows his brows. “What are you talking about doll?”

“I had a nightmare that you left. Just packed up and went away and I had no idea where you were, or what happened!” Your tears start falling with renewed vigour. 

Toji lifts you like a cat and sits down on the bed, placing you in his lap. Your tear-streaked face looking at him expects an answer but he isn't sure he can give you one. He knew his work could be uncertain; which was also why he had hesitated getting into a relationship with you in the first place. It was why he’d always been more of a ‘wham bam thank you, ma’am’ kinda guy so now, faced with a question like this he can’t think of anything to do but just hold you squishing your head under his chin. “I’m here aren’t I?” 

𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐲𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧

Sukuna Ryomen is a nightmare.

However, on rare occasions, he can be… comforting – in his signature Sukuna way of course. 

He doesn't bother with human functions like sleeping, but you need to so he likes to make you sleep on him. If he’s sitting up and reading then he likes having your head on his lap. If he’s eating, you’re resting on his shoulder. If he’s not feeling too touchy but still wants you to be near him somehow, he will make you sleep by his feet. You're his little human after all. 

But Sukuna likes to take special care of his toys; so when one day you jolt awake at his feet, he lifts you onto his lap. Sitting you down so he can see your face clearly, he asks you what happened, not forgetting to call you a brat of course. 

“It was a nightmare,” you say quietly not wanting to reveal much. 

Of course, this wouldn’t be a satisfactory answer to the King of Curses. “Explain yourself woman!” he squeezes your cheeks between his fingers and thumb. 

“You! You were torturing me.” you cry out feeling his nails against your skin. 

He takes the opportunity to kiss your lips with your face still dwarfed in his massive hand. “There there, my little princess.” And licks a tear rolling down your cheek. “You know I’m not going to mistreat my playthings.” 

He continues saying, “Besides, if I wanted you dead, you would be. I wouldn’t waste my time torturing you.” And that would be the end of that conversation, but you would notice that in his own way, he would be a tiny bit gentler with you from then on… 

𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

Geto Suguru is a man not unfamiliar with nightmares. So when you have one he knows what to do. What he wishes he had when he experiences the same…

He'll clasp you in a tight embrace, squeezing you close to his chest. 

He knows how terrifying it can be and how realistic nightmares feel even if in retrospect they are absolutely ridiculous. 

Geto wakes up hearing a thud and you crying out, “No!”

“What's wrong babe?” he asks, still half asleep voice drawling. He pushes himself up on his arms to take a look at you. 

You're clutching your head with a pained expression, tears filling your eyes. “I had a bad dream.” 

He takes your hand and pulls you towards him, letting you push your nose into his chest. “Did you hit your head on the bedside table too?” He asks slightly amused but still gentle. 

“I was trying to save you, you ungrateful man!” you admonish. 

“Save me?” Geto chuckles, “What from?” You murmur something that he can't make out. 

“Mmm, what was that?” He asks again teasingly. 

“Gojiraaa!” you say, clearer this time the embarrassment evident in your burning cheeks. 

Geto laughs. “Baby… You know I can fight him, right? Easily.” He pauses and then, “Or I could just throw you at him and run. You don't have to worry he won’t get me.” 

You stare at him annoyed, “You know what? He can eat you, I don't care.” 

𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐨

Nanami Kento is a cuddler. So he knows immediately when you've had a bad dream. He's up before you, hearing you whimper and feeling your body tremble against him. He'll wake you up, hold you close. Bring you some water to drink and stroke your hair. 

He likes to speak to you gently to wake you up, slowly drawing you out of whatever nightmare was eating at you. His deep voice is soothing to hear even in your subconscious. 

You blink your eyes open. There's this dull feeling of terror that's fading away as your surroundings come into focus. 

“My love? I'm here. Wake up for me.” That's your partner's voice. Your Nanaminmin. You feel the warmth of his embrace and snuggle into his broad chest. It's safe. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“Shibuya again…” 

Nanami rubs circles into your back wishing desperately that the trauma of the past would stay there. But even if that wasn't to be, at least he could hold you. Love you. He lowers his head to place a chaste kiss on the top of your hair. “It's over my love. I'm here. I'm alive. They couldn't take me from you…” 

He keeps murmuring to you as you hold onto him clutching at his arms. The feeling of terror; not so alien but thankfully fading. He was home. With you. You still had him. Right beside you. He was there. He slowly rocked you back to sleep closer than ever and this time when you slept there were no more nightmares…

A/N: Thank you for reading! I'm open to feedback and do let me know if you find any grammatical errors that i might have over looked.

Also i reject canon. Nanami is alive. Shibuya happened but he was saved. i know i was there. i dragged his half dead body to safety ok bye.

[2012wannabe]

Idk if ur still doing the kinktober thing but I was thinking about #17 w/ Ellie x toxic!reader and readers ex!Abby 🤷🏾‍♀️........ omg who said that??👀

(It was definitely me)

~☁️

17. Threesome/Moresome

wc: 1505

cw/tw: threesome, toxic!fem!reader x gf!ellie x ex!abby, smut obvi lol, pussy eating, fingering, strap on, throat fucking

a/n: I am!! Honestly I’ve had so much trouble writing for the past few years so I live on requests to help give me ideas! For anyone feel free to send requests/asks to my box and I’ll do my best to put something together :))) I hope I did your prompt justice. I’ve also never written Ellie before so I also hope she isn’t too ooc

You cheerfully slid on the couch next to Ellie, flinging your arms around her.

“Hi, els.” You say, kissing her cheek.

“Hey, baby.” She says, sliding her arms around your waist comfortably.

“I missed you so much today. You were gone for so long.” You pout.

“I know, my patrol went overtime because the people that were supposed to replace us were delayed. But I’m here now.” You respond by kissing her on the lips and pulling her forward. She reciprocates the kiss and fixes your hair, putting it back behind your ear.

“So you know, I was thinking… You told me a while ago that you wanted to try something new and I thought we could spice things up a bit.”

“Spice things up a bit how?” She asks, holding your waist still.

“We could… you know, explore new boundaries by having… a threesome.”

“What?” She exclaimed, her eyebrows quirking in confusion.

“With who?”

“We would decide that together but I was thinking Abby. I know you think she’s hot.”

“Your ex, Abby?”

“Yes.” You say pursing her lips. Ellie immediately goes to nod her head no and you jump up to hug your arms around her neck.

“Hey, it won’t be that big of a deal. Don’t you trust me, baby?” She still looks hesitant and you start to lean into her.

“I trust you…”

“It’ll just be once. Besides… if you really love me.” You say your voice trailing off the last syllable. Her eyes widen as she starts to think it over. You hold her gently and look her eyes as innocently as you can manage and start to speak,

“I know you’ve been thinking about it too…” Ellie takes another moment to think and eventually says before pausing again,

“If it will make you happy then yes.” You pout,

“I don’t want you to do it just for me, I want you to do it because you want to.” There’s another strength of silence and she starts to fiddle with her ring and pinky finger on her left hand.

“I want to do it.”

“Aw, thanks els!” You say pressing light butterfly kisses all over her face. She laughs a bit, semi-forced but smiling at seeing you smiling.

….

The day finally comes, and you excitedly get ready in the mirror. You pull out all the stops, a full face of makeup, lingerie, and a pretty outfit over it. You swish your skirt in the mirror loving how it was so short you could see the round of your butt.

“What do you think els?” You ask bending over her, showing off the other part of your outfit; a low-cut crop top that pushed your breasts out for her to see. Her mouth instantly dries despite her own pout.

“You look… perfect.” You smile a big cheesy smile and do a little spin for her. Seeing your ass under your skirt, she mutters under her breath,

“Jesus Christ.”

“It looks good doesn’t it?”

“Don’t ever wear that skirt out. Don’t want strangers seeing what’s mine.” You giggle at that and swish your skirt once more to show off your butt. The doorbell suddenly rings and you grin widely.

“Can you go get the door els? Need to put on one last touch.” She nods slowly and gets up to the door as you dash to the bathroom. Kneeling, you pull a small box from the cabinet and open it to find the butt plug and bottle of lube. You insert it carefully and adjust your thong to keep it hidden for now. You walk back out and smile brightly at Abby, who is standing out with Ellie. Both girls look slightly awkward and the air is a bit tense but the tension melts when they look at you.

“Hey Abs!” You say greeting her with a kiss on both cheeks. Her face flushes and grabs their hands dragging them along with you. You sit on the bed, perfectly poised, and grin as Ellie leans forward to kiss you. You kiss her back fiercely and Abby leans your body into her lap. Her hands reach around to play with your breasts, cupping them over your clothes and feeling the soft exposed skin. Ellie pulls away from your kiss, grinning as you are connected by a string of spit. She grabs your waist and slowly peels off your shirt, leaving your lacy bra. Abby’s hands immediately returned to your breasts, unclipping your bra as quickly as she could. She gasps lowly as you're exposed and as Ellie kisses her down your body, Abby leans over to kiss you.

As she kisses you, her hands start to tweak your nipples and you gasp into your mouth. You moan lowly and lose yourself in her touch until you hear Ellie gasp.

“Holy fuck…” She whispered, having pulled down your skirt and thong to find the butt plug you inserted. Abby looks up and laughs, smirking at you.

“Left us a gift?” She mocks as Ellie twists and pulls at it making you moan out loud. Ellie gives a playful slap to your cunt and you yelp. Abby leans down to kiss you again as Ellie starts to trace around the edges of your pussy experimenting with trying to push the pads of her fingers in.

“Please els.” You beg through Abby’s lips.

“Want to be full…”

“Oh you do, don’t you?” Abby coos as Ellie roughly curls her digits, fingering you. Abby carefully moves your body to lie on the bed and straddles you, unbuckling her belt. From the sound alone, you nearly gasp at the anticipation. Unzipping her pants, you see something you haven’t seen in a very long time; her thick black strap-on. She lightly taps it against your jaw and your mouth drops open obediently. She roughly shoves it in and you moan as Ellie continues her assault, curling her fingers to hit your g spot. In a strange opposition, Abby gently combs your hair away from your face, grabs it by the handful, and groans as she pumps it into your mouth. You moan loudly and spit messily drips down from the side of your mouth. Abby thrusts particularly hard and you gag.

“There you go… good girl.” She whispers watching your face intently. Between both women, you feel the coil in your core getting close to snapping. Ellie’s fingers pump in and out, suddenly putting pressure on your clit. You gasp, leaving more room for Abby to push her dick in, your nose practically nuzzling her pelvis. You try to mumble,

“Gonna cum,” but you can barely think much less talk. Suddenly the coil snaps and Ellie along with the sheets are soaked.

“Holy shit…you squirted babe.” She says looking at you and Abby. Abby smirks and slowly releases your mouth.

“I didn’t know I could do that.” You say quietly, your head back in bliss. Ellie kisses you square on the lips, gently cupping your jaw.

“You did so good for us.” She whispers as you slowly sit up to change positions.

“Can we…want to eat you out.” You say pawing at Abby’s waist. She grins settling back on the bed, straddling your face. You gesture to Ellie to come closer and as you lie in between Abby’s legs, Ellie makes herself at home to slot your leg between hers. You start by littering their thighs with light kisses, kissing up to between her legs. She groans and mutters,

“Please don’t tease.” You grin an move to suddenly lick a stripe up and Abby shivers watching Ellie slowly grind her hips against you.

“You’re so wet for me abs.” You say as you dive in further pointing your tongue and enjoying the feeling of her arousal dripping down her leg. You tease her hole with your tongue, letting the pads of your fingers find her clit and rub circles around it. She lets out a loud wanton moan and her legs open wider for you. You tug her down, grabbing her thighs,

“Sit. Sit on my face.” Abby groans again, lightly lowering herself on you before you ask again.

“Don’t be afraid. Put all your weight on me.” You beg pulling at her legs. She obeys and you moan as you eat her out loving the pressure of her body on top of you. You hear Ellie whimpering as Abby moans and you love the sounds. Ellie is desperately grinding on your thigh, making quite the mess. You continue moan into Abby’s cunt as you hear Ellie’s moans get higher as she gets closer to cumming. You start to speed up with your tongue and Abby gasps. You play with her clit more and more and like Ellie her gasps and moans start to get higher.

“You close?”

“Yeah, yeah.” They both breathe out.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m cumming!” Abby yells out. You pull her closer go swallow all of her arousal and she nearly collapses against the bed. Ellie cums soon after, laying with you both, completely spent.

[city-of-ladies]

Söyembikä, regent of Kazan

"Söyembikä (c. 1516-after 1554), ruler of the khanate of Kazan, one of the successor states to the Turko-Mongol state of the Golden Horde, located in the middle Volga basin around the confluence of the Volga and Kama rivers.

From 1549 until 1551, Söyembikä ruled in the name of her minor son Utamesh-Garay, before Muscovite Russia took Kazan in 1552. In Tatar national history Söyembikä symbolizes her people’s helpless resistance to Russian invaders. She has been the subject of popular stories, tales, epics, and paintings.

Söyembikä was the daughter of Yusuf (d. 1554), the ruler of the Noghay horde, one of the kingdoms that arose from the breakup of the Golden Horde in modern-day southern Russia. Söyembikä lived in a period of great uncertainty: Noghay, Crimean, and Kazan princes competed to revive the Golden Horde, and Muscovite rulers sought to protect and expand their territory beyond the Volga to the southeast. The grand princes of Moscow paid tribute to the successors of their former suzerains, the Golden Horde, but they also involved themselves in their dynastic disputes. 

The Noghay princess Söyembikä became the wife of three successive khans in the middle Volga basin: Jan Ali (or Cangali, r. 1533-1535), Safa-Garay (r. 1536-1549), and Shah Ali (or Şahgali, r.1553). Her marriage to the pro-Muscovite Jan Ali was politically motivated and received the blessing of the Russian grand prince Vasili III (r. 1505-1533), who wished to secure his southern frontier from future Noghay incursions. The anti-Muscovite party in Kazan assassinated Jan Ali, and Söyembikä married the pro-Noghay Crimean Tatar Safa-Garay, a descendant of Genghis Khan. Her new husband ended up alienating non-Tatar indigenous peoples of the middle Volga. 

Following the death of Safa-Garay in 1549, Söyembikä became regent for their two-year-old son, Utamesh-Garay. Russian chroniclers described Soyembika as a “lioness” who was energetic, beautiful, and wise. As regent she sought military help from neighboring Muslim states to resist Russian encroachment. Despite all her efforts she was caught between pro-Muscovite and pro-Crimean parties inside her government and proved unable to stop Ivan the Terrible of Moscow (r. 1533-1584) from gaining the support of the non-Tatar peoples of the Volga basin and Tatars who resented the presence of Crimeans on their soil.

In August 1551 a new pro-Muscovite government arrested both mother and son and sent them to Moscow. A year later Ivan the Terrible took Kazan. Exiled in Kasimov, Söyembikä was forced to marry Shah Ali, the pro-Russian khan of Kasimov, and separate herself from her son, who was baptized under the name of Alexander. Her son died in 1566; Söyembikä’s date of death is still unknown, as is the site of her grave.

Numerous Tatar traditions kept her memory alive, praising her for her strong opposition to Moscow. Some stories affirm that she warned Safa-Garay of the imminent fall of the kingdom and brought poisoned food and a poisoned shirt to the pro-Muscovite Shah Ali. Others say that in 1550 she appeared in arms to defend the city of Kazan. Others claim that Ivan the Terrible had heard of Söyembikä’s beauty and wanted to marry her, but the proud queen refused and the tsar took Kazan, imprisoned her, and asked for her hand again. Söyembikä promised to marry him only if he built her a high tower in the kremlin in seven days. With the help of the finest artisans, Ivan fulfilled her demand, but when the tower was finished, Söyembikä climbed to the top and jumped to her death. The Tower of Söyembikä, a former watchtower or minaret, still stands in the Kazan kremlin, but it was probably built in the seventeenth or eighteenth century, long after the queen’s death. The monument may bear Söyembikä’s name because she prayed at her husband’s nearby tomb before she left the city. 

The Tatar historian Hadi Atlasi (1876-1938), who presented Söyembikä as a model of courage and piety for all girls, indicated that women liked to read the Qur an at this sacred place and make wishes. Finally, the well-known “Lament of Söyembikä,” written in the first person, has long symbolized the historical fate of the Tatars, who became the subjects of a non-Muslim state after the conquest of Kazan in 1552."

Kefeli Agnes, Smith Bonnie G. (eds.). The Oxford Encyclopedia of Women in World History

[marionvonwolfstadt]

"Anything"

for @wolfsbanesbite, thank you for the request, hope you enjoy it <3

tags: Ferrari! simi, breeding kink, Malaysia 2015, anal sex, top kimi, bottom seb, established relationship

word count: 1505

Sepang International Circuit, Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia

Winning is… He didn’t forget how it felt, just… With Red Bull, it felt different. So different… He couldn’t help but cry, he couldn’t help but think about Michael. He thought… He feels it now, the elation bursting through your every cell, the giddiness, the adrenaline. He wishes so badly Kimi was on the podium with him. He feels guilty because, in the heat of the moment, he didn’t even cross his mind. Maybe it was wrong, maybe he should, but… Yeah, racing always comes first, at least for now, while he still gets a chance for his fifth, a title with Ferrari, for Ferrari. He considers he’s one lucky motherfucker, having a wingman both in life and on the race track. It’s tempting to state that he has never been happier, but he knows it’s just the rush of a brilliant day and not the true takeaway. Still, it’s nice.

“It was a great recovery drive,” He casually comes up to Kimi as they’re leaving the room after the debrief. “Unlucky two times… You deserve a reward.” He smiles warmly, innocently. Kimi sees right through him, a pink blush creeping in on his rosy complexion, a spark in his pale eyes that can indicate so many things.

“I didn’t win,” He leans into the obliviousness, pretending so expertly his little ‘I don’t care’ routine. Sebastian knows if it comes to him, Kimi always loses. “You did.” He points a finger in his direction, one corner of his lips lifting just barely.

“Yeah,” He can’t help but preen, a slight spring in his step, almost like a little jump of a happy child. “And I’m in a great mood, so…” He pauses for the effect, not embarrassed by his tendency to be dramatic. Kimi rolls his eyes at him in fond exasperation. “You can have anything you want tonight.”

Kimi raises one eyebrow intrigued, poker face breaking. Not like that’s a problem for Sebastian, he can read his partner even when he wears those big shades. “Anything?”

“Anything…” He looks around, making sure there are no lenses pointed at them and whispers straight into his ear. “The winner’s all yours.”

***

It’s a misconception that Kimi is quiet and calm all the time. He can be goofy, laugh too loud, sing karaoke when he drinks enough beforehand and is talkative with the right person. But he’s pretty quiet in bed.

It’s not like he is shy or silent, he just… He’s mostly reserved, trying to keep it together and Seb loves trying to take him apart, to tease and tease and tease until his moans and groans get louder, until he pants Sebastian’s name and can’t help but thrust inside just a little bit harder, losing that precious control, hips stuttering, arms shaking.

So, to say that Seb was surprised when Kimi started talking freely would be an understatement.

He has him against the wall of one of their hotel rooms, Sebastian can’t care less which one’s. His cheek presses against the ornamented tapestry and he blinks rapidly, trying to make out the shape of the Petronas Towers outside the wall window. It’s getting dark, so the room is hidden in dimness because they didn’t think to flick the lights on. The city sparkles and the sky is a mix of dark blue and yellowish-orange from the sunset. He wishes he could appreciate more but it’s hard when you have three fingers up your ass.

“You want more, Sebi?”

He feels Kimi’s hot breath on the back of his neck and he keens, pushing his hips out more, nodding furiously, because he isn’t capable of speaking anymore, choking on tears.

“Of course, you do, hungry little cumslut.” Kimi rasps, voice even more scratchy than usual and brings his open palm down hard. Seb sobs out something resembling his name, his left asscheeks aching deliciously, red and warm skin on display. “Yeah, you want it so bad…”

Sebastian has no idea what’s gotten into him, but he is one hundred per cent on board. He usually has to goad Kimi into being harsher with him, using all that delicious strength and manhandling him, putting him in his place. Apparently, he must make sure to win more races, if that’s what he gets after.

“Wan’ it…” He mumbles against the wall, barely audible, but Kimi picks it up, always attentive, withdrawing his fingers with a slick obscene sound, they used too much lube again and Seb knows the cleanup will be a bitch.

“Look at you…” Kimi drawls, rubbing his fat cockhead against Seb’s tightening rim. “So desperate for it. Open up.” He orders and the tone makes Sebastian shudder.

He tries to relax, but even with all the prep it still burns. He wails, mindless that someone in the next room over could hear him. Kimi pushes and pushes and— A barely human sound lefts him when Kimi bottoms out. He feels too full, he’s sure he won’t be able to stand on his own for long, relying on Kimi to catch him — like always.

Seb attempts to tell Kimi he can move, but all that leaves his throat are a bunch of weak whimpers and pathetic girly whines. He closes his eyes tightly, feels how his eyelashes are damp with tears. Kimi never teased him about it, how he sounded in bed, but it happened before and he can’t help but bite his bottom lip to stifle his high-pitched moans.

Kimi doesn’t say anything, doesn’t goad him to be louder, he just traces the pad of his thumb over the reddened lip till Seb releases it and then pecks him on the cheek, at the same time rubbing his other palm soothingly over his side, tracing the ribs, the dip of his waist, the softness of his hip. It calms Seb down immensely.

“You took all of me…” Kimi marvels, his voice gentle now, he still didn’t move. “Bet it still isn’t enough, huh?”

He manages to shake his head in an inutile protest, fingers scraping against the wallpaper desperately. He can feel Kimi’s cock pressing against his prostate and it’s driving him mad that the other man isn’t fucking him.

“‘M gonna fill you up, don’t worry,” Kimi pants hotly against his temple and starts to move. Seb can feel his lips moving against the thin skin there. “Gonna get you pregnant, fuck—”

Sebastian mewls at the same time as Kimi cuts himself off. They both still for a fraction of a second, only the bustle of the city and their laboured breathing being heard. Kimi’s fingers twitch against Seb’s hip, his grip tightening around the soft flesh. Sebastian swallows, mouth dry.

“Please…” He can feel the shame, how his whole face gets warm with splotchy blush, how his lower stomach melts, the muscles tensing, how his untouched little cock is leaking on the carpet. It's so weird that he gets turned on by this, but… Well, Kimi does too and— “Put a baby in me, please, Kimi…”

“Fuck, Sebi… I—” He hesitates, but then Seb feels him shift and the next thing he knows he’s being fucked so deep and so good that he can’t even remember where he is, let alone that he won a race today. He’s reduced to a panting mess, nothing coherent leaving his lips. Kimi on the other hand…

“Gonna breed you so well… You’re gonna be dripping with it by the time I’m done with you.”

The blood is rushing into his ears and he can’t hear himself as he screams a horse ‘yes’ over and over again, Kimi growling more dirty things against the shell of his ear. The orgasm takes him by surprise, but then the sensation washes over him like a warm wave and he feels himself collapse, his knees giving out. Kimi’s holding him up, his thrusts losing all rhythm and force as he comes inside Seb’s hole with a guttural moan. He doesn’t pull out, mumbling some shit about making sure it’ll catch but Sebastian has no capacity of mind left to let alone register it or much less respond.

Kimi gets quiet again for some time after they come down from their high and speaks only when they’re lying in bed under the covers, showered and packed for tomorrow’s flight.

“Happy?” He sounds normal, but Seb can tell that he’s a little self-conscious about maybe taking things too far.

“Very,” He snuggles closer, despite it being hot as it is, hugging Kimi closer, burying his nose into the crook of his neck. “Nice reward. You can breed me more often.” He deadpans and giggles only after he hears Kimi’s outraged huff.

“Shut up and go to sleep.” Kimi sounds gruff and offended, but he kisses Sebastian’s forehead, lips lingering.

Seb stays silent and lets his eyes fall close, thoughts about how wonderful it is that he has Kimi lulling him to sleep, not a single smudge of worry about winning the Championship present in his mind.

[wukong-s-only-wife5000]

Thank you for writing scenarios for Hero Is Back! There is not enough love for tall monkey dad. Could we see what he's like when he's scared for the reader? 🥺

HiB!Wukong: He's Scared For You.

Pair: Reborn Wukong x chubby!Reader.

Word Count: 1505.

Content/Trigger Warnings: insecurities are triggered. I'm not good with these minor warnings, but I guess implied needles and stuff (doctor checkup).

Authors Notes: Gladly. First part was hurtful for me because of the playlist that came on. Hope you enjoy!

No matter how much he’s tried to protect you, shelter you, stand by you… the events of that day haunt him far too much, and it’s never enough. If he doesn't have you in his arms or be touching you in some way, shape or form, his paranoia tells his brain that you’re in danger. He didn't know who hurt you during that Heavenly Fight that led to his imprisonment, but he did know that it had messed him up bad. He would never forget how he last saw you and how he spent centuries thinking of when or if he would ever see you again.

Ever since he found you, he hasn't left your side, let you near sharp things, or let anyone suspicious come more than ten feet near you. He was so fucking careful, too fucking careful, so how could this have happened?! Wukong paced up and down the doorway of the room you were in. 

He was so careful, he made sure that you were protected and out of harm’s way, but even with all of it, you were still struck with a poisoned arrow. What made it worse, you only got struck by that arrow while protecting him. Now, he was on who knows how long of a panic attack while he and the others waited for you to wake up. 

The doctors said they did all that they could, but that wasn't enough for Wukong. He wanted you to wake up and scold him about being so hard on the workers, or tell him how worried you were. He just wanted to see your eyes open, he wanted you to smile and tell him you were okay even though you might be in a lot of pain. 

“Great Sage…?” he didn't even hear Liuer or notice the boy beside him. He definitely didn't notice that tears were falling from his eyes.

He was so worried about you, he couldn't lose you, not you, not again, especially not permanently. Anyone, but his beloved (Y/n). He wouldn't be the strong Monkey King if it weren't for your love and support. If it weren't for you, he would have never known love and what it was like to be truly appreciated.

“Wukong,” now that he heard. It's surprising how his head didn't snap off with how fast he whipped around to look at you. The relief and joy on his face shocked you, especially with the tears that continuously fell down his face. “Oh, Wuk-” he cut you off as he appeared before you and embraced you tightly, but not too tight. 

“I was so scared that I-” he couldn't even finish the sentence as he buried his face into your neck and sobbed. He was so, so happy that you were okay. He immediately picked you up bridal style and started to walk back into the room you woke up in. 

“Wha-” 

“You shouldn't be on your feet right now,” he said as he laid you down on the bed. 

“Wukong,” you sighed softly in defeat, letting him tuck you in, kiss your head and nose, and crawl into bed with you.

“If you ever think about doing something like that again… don't,” he held you in his arms. Things were going too fast, and you were honestly still trying to process he had picked you up, and you were on a bed. 

“Wukong,” you said, finally getting his attention.

“What is it? Do you want me to get the doctor?”

“My Wukong,” you smiled and held his face. “I'm okay, really,” you tried to comfort and ease him, but it did nothing to ease his worry as he kept you in his arms. 

“You're never leaving my side again,” he nuzzled your cheek and jaw. 

“Yes, sir,” you snickered a bit, “can you stop? That tickles.”

“Too bad,” he smiled as he intertwined his fingers with your and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Shouldn't you get the doctor?”

“I sent Liuer to get him,” he brushed you off. It wasn't a full lie, he made a motion for the boy to get the doctor, but whether he understood the non-verbal message or not was to be determined.

Thankfully, he did. The check-up was spent with your Wukong sitting beside you, eyes narrowing and glaring at the doctor whenever he made you wince or flinch.

“Hey, be careful!” he would scold the doctor with a snarl. Of course, it would make the poor guy flinch as well every time, continuously apologizing to you despite your efforts to assure them both that you were okay. You placed your free hand on Wukong’s and caressed it with your thumb as you leaned into him a bit. 

“My love, let the man do his job,” you smiled and placed your head against his shoulder.

“He’s hurting you more,” he looked at you as the doctor finished and stepped away from you two… as far as he could for his own sake.

“Your vitals all seem to be stable. With enough rest, you will make a steady recovery.”

“Thank you,” you smiled and looked up at Wukong as the doctor left you to rest. Your Monkey King, whose worry lines could be written on, looked at you as if it were the first time he’d met a goddess of beauty. “See? I'm alright.” 

It wasn't your words that brought him a sense of peace, it was that smile. That same smile that made his day much much much brighter… the same one he thought he'd never see again.

“I am sorry,” he placed a kiss on your temple. 

“Don't be,” you smiled a bit more at him, pulling him down by his clothes to kiss his cheek.

“Let’s get some rest, okay?” he said softly as he pulled you to lay down beside him.

Your body hurt a lot, but not as much as it did when you woke up. Something you guessed had to do with what the doctor gave you before he had started the more detailed vital assessment. However, with Wukong’s arms holding you close to his warm body, you not only felt comfortable, you felt safe.

[theclairvoyage]

Centrifugation: Chapter 10

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

An anonymous source discloses something that threatens to ruin your relationship with Joel.

Chapter Warnings: allusions to smut, ANGST!, anxiety, mentions of past traumatic event, adult language, kissing, fluff

WC: 4.2k

Divider by @plum98 <3

Tuesday, October 26th | 1505

Shaky hands reach up to unlock the door to your apartment, keys jingling with your movements.  Fuck.  Your hand falls to your side as you try to recollect yourself.  Eyes closed, you take a few deep breaths and straighten your spine.  Why am I nervous?  This is my goddamn apartment.

“Okay,” you say to nobody.  “It’s fine.  It’s just a door.”

Courage pools in your belly.  Taking one last deep breath, you unlock the door and push it open, eyes widening at your surroundings.  The place is spotless.  Keri stopped by your place to stock the fridge and clean up for you a couple days ago.  She must’ve either baked or sprayed some Febreze in here—it smells like cupcakes.  A smile forces its way on your face.

You set your purse on the kitchen island and gaze around.  Empty sink, full fridge and pantry, clean countertops.  Clean blankets thrown over the couch, new candles centered on the coffee table, remote on top of the TV.  There’s a small piece of paper on one of the candle lids.  You trod over to the couch and pick it up to read, grin creeping up your cheeks.

Hey, love.  I made your favorite enchiladas and stocked the fridge full of your favorite goodies.  Laundry is done and folded.  There’s some special liquid in the fridge, too—but don’t take it when you’re on your meds!! 😉 Call me if you need anything.

-Ker

Curling the note up to your chest, you walk over to the fridge and open the door.  Keri was right—she got everything you like.  Cheese, salami, fruit, wine, cookie dough, orange juice, and two giant containers of half and half.  A large, covered baking dish is calling your name.

Two enchiladas and what feels like half a pound of cookie dough later, you turn on the TV and scroll through Hulu until you find your favorite comfort show.  It starts halfway through the last episode you played.

“Picture it: Sicily, 1922…” Sophia Petrillo’s loud, Brooklyn-accented voice speaks to you.  You smile and sink into the couch, whipping your phone out to check your messages.

Joel: Have a great night, baby.  Sweet dreams.

You send him a picture of your blanket-clad body curled into the couch, along with a witty caption.  Missing your couch already.  He replies after a few beats.

Joel: Gorgeous as ever.  I’m missing more than that, though.  Gnight baby.  See you tomorrow.

You: Night, Joel. 🥰

Happy to be home and tired of binging your show, you decide it’s time to rinse off the day with some hot water and get ready for bed.  After hopping out of the shower and changing your bandages, you pick your phone up from the bathroom counter and stare at the screen.

Three messages from an unknown number stare back at you.  The area code is unfamiliar to you.  The fuck?  Your stomach flip flops like a fish on a dock as you shakily long press on one message to open it.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Better watch your man.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Sent 2 photos

Shock sucks the air out of your lungs.  You blink once, twice, three times to make sure this is what you’re really looking at.  Beads of sweat emerge from the pores on your forehead, and your hands tremble.  This is exactly how you felt after you left the hospital—panicky, lost, terrified.

The first picture is of Joel’s truck parked outside of a Motel 6, with someone in the passenger seat next to him.  It looks like a woman, but it’s too dim to make out the rest of her features.  The second picture is the same angle, but of Joel leaning near the woman’s ear, smile plastered on his face—and there’s no question that it’s him.  Salt and pepper beard, curved nose, those fucking brunette tendrils you adore so much.  He’s even wearing one of his green flannels that you’ve worn while he’s fucked you.  This photo is better lit, almost like headlights of a passing car flashed on as soon as it was snapped.  The woman’s face is—gorgeous.  She’s Latina, with beautiful caramel skin, long, shiny black hair cascading down her shoulders, bright red lips, piercing hazel eyes, and a low-cut top that shows some massive breasts stuffed in a pushup bra.

The phone slips out of your hand and lands on the bathroom tile with a thud.  Fuzziness clouds your vision, and your pulse is racing so fast there’s barely any time between heartbeats.  Confusion hazes in your mind, interrupted by a loud voice telling you to sit down before you pass out.  You plop on the toilet seat and pick up your phone.

Nausea pierces your stomach as you stare at the photos again.  Clamping your eyes shut, you lean back against the toilet and take some deep breaths, allowing reason to squeeze itself back into your head.

When were these taken?  Where?  Is this pre-Omaha Joel?  Is that girl his cousin?

His hair and beard look the same as they did yesterday—and the motel looks like a Motel 6 near the Denny’s on 84th and Center, posted up right by Interstate 80.  Though it could be somewhere else, maybe in Texas, you’re almost certain it’s Omaha.  Oak and maple trees line the back of the motel, with leaves of various shades of red, yellow, and orange—you don’t know enough about Texas to know if they have fall foliage like Nebraska does.  Maybe you don’t want to know.

Your heart feels like it stops beating altogether at the realization that this was taken very recently—maybe even today.

A tear drips down your burning cheek and lands on the screen of your phone, painting the woman’s face in rainbow pixels.  Somehow, she looks even more beautiful than before with your tears plastered on her perfect face.

Anger sears your insides and clutches your throat.  You ignored every little voice in your head that was telling you something wasn’t right, shoved it into the depths of your brain and tried to stay present, optimistic.  Joel had given you everything—took care of you, made you feel safe and loved, went out of his way to be there for you.  What was the fucking point of this shit?  He could have easily dropped you and carried on with his life.

Standing up from the toilet, you lean over the sink and splash some cold water on your face and neck, arms propped up on the bowl as you hunch over and continue to take deep breaths.

How am I gonna address this with him?  Send him the pictures with no context?  Screenshot the messages, including the number?

No, no, no—the latter would be too easy for him to explain.  You wanted him to squirm and roil like you are now.  Sure, you weren’t exactly a fucking couple, but you never expected him to do this.  Fuming, you save the pictures and pull up your messages with Joel.  You look at his contact picture in your phone—it’s one of him and you from your date at Village Pointe, when he’d watched you admire the flowers at one of the boutiques.  God, he’s fucking handsome, and he looks so happy.

Fuck that.  You send the pictures over to him and shut your phone off before stomping off to bed.

Wednesday, October 27th | 0712

Cheerful chirps of the American robins outside your window wake you.  You rub your eyes, quickly realizing that they’re sore—probably from all your sobbing the night prior. Dread fills you quickly as you recall the events from last night.

Shit. Your phone is off. Probably wasn’t the best idea, considering you’re still recovering from a traumatic event and people might worry if they can’t reach you.

Anxiety weighs your arm down as it reaches for your phone. You hold the power button and watch the screen light up with fast, shallow breaths.

15 missed calls.  10 from Joel, 2 from Sarah, and 3 from unknown numbers.  20-something messages, mostly from Joel.  Your heart skips a beat and your finger inches toward one of them to read it before stopping.

Nope.  You’re not giving up so easily.  He can squirm for a bit.  After all, he made a conscious choice to do this.  Another question burns the back of your brain, though.

Who took the pictures?

You open your messages and see that the unknown number that sent the 3 messages is the same one that texted you the pictures.  You open them, and your stomach falls to the floor as you read.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Oh, girl.  You sent him those?  Tsk tsk.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Now you’re giving him time to come up with an explanation??

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: If you can’t get rid of him after he did this, imagine what else you’ll let him get away with.

Lips tightened and jaw jutting angrily, you puff out a hot breath and feel anger bubble inside you as you type a response.

You: Who the fuck are you?  What is your problem?

They don’t miss a beat replying.

(XXX) XXX-XXXX: Someone you don’t want to fuck with.  Let it go now and you’ll get over it in no time.

A rough, defiant snarl rips through you as your fingers zip across the screen.

You: You’re so threatening that you have to send shit anonymously?  Grow the fuck up.

You: Fucking clown 🤡

The number doesn’t reply immediately.  You sit up in bed, hot tears starting to brew behind your eyelids.  And your head is pounding—likely from the crying, which has no doubt left you dehydrated.  You slowly stand up and wait for the stars to fade from your vision before padding into the kitchen.

As you brew a strong pot of coffee, your phone rings.  You close your eyes, inhale deeply, and flatten your palms on the countertop to ground yourself.  The cold material heats up underneath your fingertips, leaving condensation in their wake.

You pick up the phone, slowly.  It’s Joel.  The air in your chest halts.  Do you answer, or continue ignoring him?  Part of you wants so badly to hear his deep voice, hear him tell you this was all a big mistake, and the photos are AI.

But you know that’s not the case.  You accept the call and wait a beat before speaking, lips sucked into your mouth.

“Baby, you there?” His voice is frantic, and you can hear him pacing in what you guess is his kitchen.  It’s early, and he’s probably making coffee of his own.

“Why are you calling me?” Your voice is frigid, distant, setting the stone blocks of the wall you’re placing between him and you.

He sighs heavily, footsteps echoing in the background.

“Darlin’, it’s not what you think, I—,” he groans, exasperated.  You interrupt him before he can finish.

“I’m sure you can, you’ve had plenty of time to think about it,” you snarl, voice scathing.  Joel is silent for a moment, shocked at the anger in your voice.  He’s never seen or heard you like this.  He chooses his next words carefully.

“Please, let me see you and we can talk about this,” he pleads, agonized.  Part of you wants to smile, making him grovel at your feet—the other part is heartbroken, the photos plastered in your mind permanently.

“I really don’t want to talk to you after what I saw.  I-I trusted you, and you had every opportunity to cut things off with me… Jesus, Joel, we weren’t even a couple!” you spit, voice transforming from strong and firm, to shaky and choked.  Your fists are clenched so hard, your knuckles are bone white, and salty tears roll down your cheeks.

“Baby, you don’t realize h—,” he starts, but you cut him off again.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you spit through gritted teeth.

“Please, please, just lemme explain and it’ll all make sense,” he cries, almost whimpering.  Frustrated, you hold a deep breath in your ribcage and pinch the bridge of your nose as you contemplate a response.

“I’ve seen everything I need to see,” you say, surprisingly calmly.  “You made me look and feel so… so fucking stupid.  I don’t even know who sent me the fucking pictures and now they’re threatening me, I j—,” you continue, and this time Joel cuts you off.

“Threatening you?” he hisses.  Your eyes roll so hard it hurts.

“Gimme a fucking break, Joel.  You’re pissed you got caught—you don’t give a fuck about me,” you sear, irritated.  Part of you knows that you’re not being entirely truthful—you know that he does care.  But you want it to sting, and it does.  He inhales sharply.

“Now you know damn well that ain’t true, and that I lo—,” he stops himself, your stomach twisting at the realization of what he was about to say.  He clears his throat.

“I want you to be happy.  If that ain’t with me, then I have no choice but to let it be.  But if you wanna talk, I’ll be here.  I’m askin’ ya one more time to let me explain,” he chokes, the pain evident with each syllable.  He sounds like he did when he first came to the hospital after the stabbing—broken and worried.

You close your eyes for a moment and think about your life since you’ve met Joel.

Happy, exhilarating, euphoric, a whirlwind.

A new version of you—confident, glowing, sexy.  Now it all seems so abstract, utopian.

What’s the worst that could happen?  He explains, you don’t believe him, and you never see him again?  As much as you’d like to stick to that plan, you know once you’ll see him it’ll be over.

“Baby, you there?” he asks quietly, hesitantly, trying not to poke the bear.

“Yes, I’m here.  Thinking,” you reply, matching his volume.  “Fine.  We can meet up.  Tomorrow,” you offer, tone stern.  You need a day to think.

“Whenever y’want.  Just let me know and I’ll be there,” he says, voice like a warm hug.  It’s pissing you off, how easily he can melt you.  You give him a pinched mhm.  He sighs.

“D’y’need anything?  Bandages, food, anythin’?” he asks, kindness slicing your heart open.

“No.  Keri stocked my place while I was gone.  I’m good,” you reply coolly.

Shit, you don’t want to tell Keri—you can’t bear to rehash what you saw last night and break your heart all over again.

“I’m—m’sorry, baby.  You mean the world t’me,” he laments.  You pinch your eyelids shut, running a clammy hand through your hair.  He’s not making this easy.

“Do you realize how hard it is to believe that after seeing those fucking photos, Joel?  How do you think I feel whenever I think about them?” You sob, hands waving with each pained syllable that escapes your mouth.  He sniffles on the other end, but you continue.

“Seeing you close to that… that woman, who is clearly so much fucking better than me, that perfect fucking wo—,” he cuts you off.

“Nobody is better than you.  Nobody.  Get that through your head,” he says, voice angry.  You groan angrily as tears continue pricking your eyelids.

“What do you expect?  Like… I don’t understand what you thought I’d think.  Maybe you thought I’d never find out,” you mutter.

“Y’won’t believe me when I tell you what’s really goin’ on.  She’s not who y’think,” he sighs, and you can hear him hanging his head on the other line.  “I’ll tell y’everything tomorrow.”

Jaw ticking, you nod before realizing he can’t see you.  “Okay.”

“F’you need anything, y’know I’m here.  Bye, sweetheart.”

“Bye.”

Wednesday, October 27th | 1239

After the call with Joel, your crying and frustration exhausted you to the point that you fell asleep on the couch while watching TV.  The quote from the Golden Girls episode you watched struck a painful chord with you, sending you further into the abyss.

I don't want to talk about it. Oh, how could George betray me this way? Dammit, those wedding vows were sacred to me. Well, they must have been. I turned down hundreds, thousands of offers. Teachers, doctors, astronauts. I even said no to a journalist famous for his work on 60 Minutes. Now, if that's not fidelity, I don't know what is. Then I find out that the only man I ever loved cheated on me. On me! Oh, I could just die.

Blanche discovered her late husband had an affair that produced a child—but only when the adult child showed up at her doorstep.  It puts things in perspective for you.

One, you and Joel aren’t married—maybe this is a sign not to let it progress further.

But—you hated to admit to yourself that he was the only man you had ever loved.

Does the pain come with the territory, or is it an omen?

You roll off the couch, frustrated still but filled with a bolt of energy.  You needed to get out of here.  It’s not like you have work the next day, or anytime soon—somewhere far, far away was calling your name.

Fuck it.  You decided to head to Chadron early—your grandma’s house was ready for you and clearing your mind with some time at the rustic farmhouse sounded hypnagogic.  Thinking of the rolling hills, buttes, pine trees, and open skies filled you with tranquility.  Joel’s face sits in the back of your mind, beautiful brown eyes filled with love and adoration.  A wave of sadness engulfs you.

Joel would have to figure out fast if he really wanted this.

Having packed a decently sized suitcase in less than 30 minutes, you stuff it in your car and hop in the driver’s seat.  You quickly type a text to Keri asking her to check up on the place every few days before starting the car.  The gas tank was at half, and with you leaving later in the day, it was probably smart to fill up before starting the 7-hour drive.

You make a quick stop at a QT not too far from your apartment and fill up.  As you watch the numbers on the pump display tick, a sleek black truck pulls up to the pump next to yours.

Shit.

It’s Joel.

He steps out and saunters over to you.  It’s only been a day since you’ve seen him, but it feels like months.  His handsome face looks sullen, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes absent.  His frown lines have deepened, stubble grown out, some new gray hairs have erupted along his chin.

And then you see his eyes.  Despondent pools of dark chocolate, no traces of the golden flecks you’ve grown to love.  What pisses you off the most, though, is how much love pours out of them.  It’s so hard to be mad at him when you know that he loves you.

He stops at your side, and you turn away to stare at the numbers.  The nozzle clicks and the numbers freeze.  Ignoring him, you yank the nozzle out of your car and shove it back on the holder, fingers still gripping the handle.  His warm hand envelopes your forearm, rendering you motionless.  You can’t look at him.

“Sweetheart,” he says, tone of his velvet voice echoing the sullenness in his eyes.  He takes the pump from your hand and turns you toward him.

Tears pool in your eyes for the zillionth time the last 24 hours.  Your lip trembles, and you snap your eyes shut.  He cradles your face in his hands and tilts your head up to look at him.  Your eyes are still squeezed shut.

“Look at me,” he says your name gently, and the familiar scents of sandalwood and bourbon waft into your nostrils, relaxing you subconsciously.  Involuntarily, you inhale deeply and slowly open your eyes.  A single tear falls from the corner of your eye as you stare at him.

He winces at seeing you in pain—pain that he caused.  He leans in and kisses the tear on your cheek. Your gut feels like he reached in and twisted it.

“Where y’going, darlin’?” he says quietly, soothing your cheeks with his thumbs.  You can only imagine how this looks—the two of you wrapped in each other in the middle of a gas station, tears streaked down your cheeks and looking a hot mess.

“To Chadron,” you sniff.  At some point you grabbed his forearms, the familiar feeling of safety washing over you.

“So soon?  Baby,” he says, deep line etched into his forehead.  You reach up and smooth it with your thumb.  He closes his eyes, exhaling in relief at your touch.

“I needed to get away from here,” you say quietly and absentmindedly, distracted from smoothing his skin.  He grabs your hand and kisses it, featherlight, eyes locked on yours.  He opens your hand and leans his cheek into your palm.

“Let me come with you.  Please,” he pleads softly.  His eyes are melting you from the inside out.

“Not before you explain what the hell those pictures are… and who sent them,” you say, arching one eyebrow.  He sighs, long and heavy, glancing to his left as he shakes his head and rakes a calloused hand through his stubble. He huffs again before turning back to face you.

“S’my cousin, Valeria.  She left her abusive husband in Laredo and is stayin’ at that Motel 6 since that asshole cut her off.  I paid for her room f’the next few weeks while Tommy n’ I figure out somethin’.  I’m sure I was givin’ her a kiss on the cheek.  M’sorry I didn’t tell you—it was sudden, and she wanted me to keep it a secret,” he says with a loud swallow, Adam’s apple bobbing.  Your shoulders slump instantly. You feel like a fucking idiot.

“As f’who sent ‘em… no goddamn clue.  Pretty fuckin’ close to hiring a PI,” he grumbles, chest puffing out slightly. The knot that’s been tightening in your stomach the last day finally releases, relieving tension throughout your entire body. Your shoulders lift and fall as you take deep breaths, before tensing again as you realize you made a mountain out of a molehill.

Jesus.  You’re a complete asshole.  Of course, you assume the worst.  You’d be surprised if he still wanted you after this charade.

The tears flow before you can try and stop them.  You bury your face in his chest, and he wraps his solid arms around you, rubbing your back and soothing you as you sob quietly.

“Shh, baby, s’okay… I understand,” he murmurs into your hair.  “Don’t cry. You’re still my favorite girl.”

You alternate between giggling and sniffling into his shirt.

“I’m so sorry, Joel—that was psychotic behavior,” you bemoan.  You feel him shake his head.

“Don’t apologize, baby,” he coos.  “Y’didn’t answer me, though.”

“Hmm?” you say, craning your neck to look at him.

“Y’gonna let me drive you?” he asks, gazing into the somber pools of your eyes.  You roll them, small smirk stretching your cheeks.

“I ‘spose.  Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.  And ‘cause I’m a fucking asshole.”  He chuckles, pulling you into his warm embrace.  He kisses the crown of your head.

“My asshole,” he soothes.  You squeeze him tightly, a nonverbal apology flowing from your fingertips into his broad back.

“Baby,” he says, and you pull back to gaze at him.  His eyes flick between yours, a question hidden behind his pupils.  You arch one eyebrow at him.

“I love you—y’know that, right?” he says, the volume of his voice lowered, redness creeping up his neck.  He looks shy, almost childlike.

Shock doesn’t fill you; rather, warmth blooms in your chest.  You knew he did—it was just a matter of when he decided to tell you verbally.  He shows you constantly with his actions.  The corner of your mouth ticks up in a sly grin.

“Fastest you’ve ever told someone that, yeah?” you poke, and it’s his turn to roll his eyes.

“Been through more in 12 days with you ‘n anyone in a lifetime—seems like we’ve known each other a long, long time,” he says, picking some stray hairs from your face.

“Yeah, very true… I love you too.  Even though you hate the coffee I drink.”  He beams at you, shoulders shaking along with his deep chuckles.  He leans in and stops just prior to his lips brushing yours.

“Hey, I’ve tried and tried to like the sugary shit—ain’t my thing.  But you certainly are,” he croons, pressing his lips against yours before you can respond.

This kiss feels much like your first one, back at McKinney’s—passionate, fresh, experimental.  It doesn’t heat up immediately, either—you two savor each other’s lips and embraces, content in the softness and sweetness of this moment of forgiveness.  It’s almost a new beginning for both of you.  Liveliness surges through your veins, scraping the sludge of uncertainty, self-doubt, and anxiety from the walls that have built up since the stabbing.  His lips are chapped, longer stubble chafing your skin, hands holding you a bit tighter than they did when he kissed you goodbye yesterday.  He pulls back, teeth lightly pulling your lower lip with him.

“Y’know, you’re sexy when you’re mad at me,” he teases you, lusty undertones echoing in his deep voice.

“Don’t make it a habit, Miller,” you scold him, squinting your eyes at him.  He laughs again.

“Come over so I can pack, and we can hit the road, sound good?”

“Sure does.”

Taglist: @burntheedges, @syd-djarin, @anoverwhelmingdin, @danaispunk <3

[artsandculture]

The Garden of Earthly Delights (1500-1505) 🎨 Hieronymus van Aken aka Bosch 🏛️ Museo del Prado 📍 Madrid, Spain

The Garden of Earthly Delights is Bosch’s most complex and enigmatic creation. For Falkenburg the overall theme of The Garden of Earthly Delights is the fate of humanity, as in The Haywain (P02052), although Bosch visualizes this concept very differently and in a much more explicit manner in the centre panel of that triptych than in The Garden of Earthly Delights. In order to analyse the work’s meaning the content of each panel must be identified. On the outer faces of the triptych Bosch depicted in grisaille the Third Day of the Creation of the World, when the waters were separated from the earth and the earthly Paradise (Eden) created. At the top left we see God the Father as the Creator, according to two Latin inscriptions, one on each panel: For he spake, and it was done and For he commanded, and they were created (Psalms 33:9 and 148:5). On the inner face of the triptych, painted in brilliant colours which contrast with the grisaille, Bosch painted three scenes that share the single common denominator of the concept of sin, which starts in Paradise or Eden on the left panel, with Adam and Eve, and is punished in Hell in the right panel. The centre panel depicts a Paradise that deceives the senses, a false Paradise given over to the sin of lust. This deception is encouraged by the fact that the centre panel is shown as a continuation of Eden through the use of a single, continuous landscape with a high horizon line that allows for a broad, panoramic composition arranged as three superimposed planes, in the panels of the earthly Paradise, the Garden of Earthly Delights and Hell.

While sin is the connecting link between the three scenes, the iconography in the Paradise panel requires further analysis in order fully to appreciate its meaning. As will be noted below in the analysis of the technical documentation, when he initially embarked on the work Bosch included the Creation of Eve on the left panel, but in a second phase he replaced it with God presenting Eve to Adam. This very uncommon subject was associated with the institution of marriage, as Falkenburg and Vandenbroeck discuss (Bosch, 2016). For the latter, the centre panel represents the false paradise of love, known as Grail in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries, which implied a carnal interpretation of God’s mandate to Be fruitful and multiply, as instituted in marriage. The men and women that Bosch depicts in the Garden of Earthly Delights believe they are inhabiting a paradise for lovers, but this is false and their only fate is punishment in Hell. The extremely pessimistic message that the centre panel conveys is that of the fragility and ephemeral nature of happiness and delight in these sinful pleasures.

In the centre panel, from which the triptych derives its name, Bosch included a large number of naked human figures, with the exception of the pair at the lower right, who are usually identified as Adam and Eve after the Expulsion from Paradise. Men and women, both black and white, are generally seen in groups or pairs, maintaining amorous relations with a powerful erotic charge that refers to the panel’s pre-eminent theme, the sin of lust. The animals, both real and imaginary, are much larger than their proper scale. Among them, Bosch particularly emphasizes two different types of owl that evoke evil. Staring straight out, they direct their disturbing gazes at the viewer at the two lateral edges of the panel, slightly set back from the immediate foreground. Also present are plants and fruit, which are again much larger than their scale dimensions. The entire composition is dotted with pieces of red fruit that contrast with other large and small blue ones, these being the two principal colours in the scene. In contrast to the apparent confusion that prevails in the foreground, geometry imposes itself in the middle ground and background. In the former, Bosch depicted a pool full of naked women. Around it, in an anti-clockwise direction, rides a group of men on different mounts (some of them exotic or imaginary), who have been associated with different Cardinal Sins. In the background of the scene Bosch included five fantastical architectural constructions in the water, the central one similar to the fountain of the Four Rivers in the Paradise panel, although here broken to symbolize its fragility and the ephemeral nature of the delights being enjoyed by the men and women who fill this garden. And now the owl depicted inside the fountain in the Paradise panel is replaced here by human figures in sexually explicit poses.

The right panel depicts Hell and is Bosch’s most striking representation of this subject, on occasions referred to as the musical Hell owing to the significant presence of instruments used to torture sinners who have devoted their time to secular music. In his text in the present catalogue Larry Silver describes the punishments meted out to each sin. While lust prevails in the centre panel, in the scene of Hell all the Cardinal Sins are punished. A good example is the punishment of the avaricious, who are devoured and immediately expelled from the anus of a theriomorphic creature with a bird’s head (a variety of owl) seated on a type of child’s lavatory stool. Gluttons and the sin of gluttony are undoubtedly referred to in the tavern scene located inside the tree-man, in which semi-naked people seated at a table wait to be served toads and other unpleasant creatures by devils, while the envious are tortured by immersion in frozen water. Further punishments correspond to vices censured by society at the time, including board games, while particular social classes are also singled out, including the clergy, who were notably criticized at this period, as reflected in the pig wearing a nun’s veil embracing a naked man in the lower right corner.

Although the triptych in the Museo del Prado is not signed, its attribution to Bosch has never been doubted. Its dating, however, is the subject of considerable debate. The results of the dendrochronological analyses could allow it to be located within the early years of the artist’s activity, around 1480-85, as Vermet stated without any supporting evidence. However, the work’s stylistic proximity to the Adoration of the Magi Triptych in the Prado (P02048), which can be securely dated to 1494 following Duquenne’s identification in 2004 of the donors, Peeter Scheyfve and Agneese de Gramme from Antwerp, confirms that the present work must have been painted in the 1490s and not after 1505, as most authors preferred to believe prior to Duquenne’s discovery. It has recently been argued that it must have been painted in or after 1494 as the image of God the Father creating the world on the reverse of the triptych is inspired by a print by Michel Wolgemut of the same subject -including the same text from the Psalms as appears on the wings- which appeared in Hartman Schedelsche Weltchronik published in Nuremberg in 1493.

Research undertaken in 1967 by Gombrich and Steppe allowed The Garden of Earthly Delights to be associated with the Nassau family. An account by Antonio de Beatis, who accompanied Cardinal Luis de Aragon as his secretary on his trip to the Low Countries, states that on 30 July 1517 the triptych was in the Nassau palace of Coudenberg in Brussels, where De Beatis presumably saw it. Since in the late 1960s the painting was considered to be a late work by Bosch, executed after the death of Engelbert’s II of Nassau in 1504, it was therefore thought that the patron was Henry III of Nassau (1483-1538), Engelbert nephew and heir. In the present day and in the light of the information that locates the triptych in the 1490s, it can be confirmed that it was commissioned from Bosch by Engelbert, who must have intended it for the Coudenberg Palace.

[jomamaofficial]

Death After Noon (Kaeya x GN!Reader Dark Angst Oneshot)

A/N: Day 3 of the holiday writing streak hehe. Hello my lovely toes, I am back with another angst fic. But this time, I’ve tried a new format out hehe: reverse comfort → angst no comfort </3. Also, if you didn’t see my last post, I AM WORKING ON A QUIRK MARRIAGE MULTIPLE CHAPTER FANFICTION WITH OUR GOLD MINE OF ANGST, SHOUTO TODOROKI. If you want some more information, filter through the richiethetoe’s updates tag :). As always, my Ask Box is open for any requests or just a conversation. I would love to give back to our little community here. Please remember to take care of yourselves, and enjoy. As always, I would love to see your thoughts about the new format I experimented with hehe. CW's: Intimate acts (kissing, making out, SFW touching), Alcoholism. Masterlist Word Count: 1505. Summary: Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, the infamous heart breaker of Mondstadt. And your sole reason for pure and utter joy. Sharing moments he never shared with anyone but you, it makes you wonder how someone could say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

——————————————————————————————————

His smile was infectious. A simple chuckle– warm and deep.

It lifted all the burdens in your life.

It was cheesy. Cliché even. But you couldn’t help smiling at every shared moment with him. 

The chaste, knowing glances– his eyes always finding yours in a crowded room. The subtle closeness– his fingers brushing past yours. 

The tall, and dark, and handsome man became your Prince Charming in your Shakespearan tragedy. His smile could tug the heartstrings of the Holy Lyre, enticing Barbatos himself to descend down to Teyvat, mistaking it for the heavens above; his hair reflected the celestial twilight: a vast ocean for your fingers to tread through as he rest his beautiful face on your lap, his lunar eyes staring into the void of your heart, pushing and pulling until it soared in tides. 

Kaeya Alberich was the rich poetry scribed in gold, filling the pages of your empty book in lavish ink– envied by many, obtained by one. 

Late nights in the Angel’s Share were spent: skin against skin, his fingers sneaking over yours. Intertwined in a beautiful mess, with heated cheeks, and cool, deep tingles, which ran through your spine. 

The two of you were Diluc’s worst nightmare. The older brother had his reservations towards both of your… public approaches to intimacy. But the brother held sympathy in his eyes; his stoic face would always fog up in questions when he saw your longing one. 

Diluc was weary of his younger brother. 

He sent sharp glares and hushed warnings to both of you. Yet instead of listening to him, Kaeya grabbed your hand and ran into the awaiting darkness. You stumbled as you traversed along the winding allies of Mondstadt, his greedy, impatient hands picking at the buttons on your shirt, guiding your bodies into an empty Inn.

Yet when he was finally in the  solitude of your comfort, concealed from the prying eyes, his deep desire evaporated, in its place left deep adoration.  

You basked in the rays of filtered silence, his hands soothing your waist and holding you tight against his flushed body. He nestled his head, heavy with thoughts, on your chest, tracing absent shapes on your skin whilst his touch got softer and softer the more you stroked his hair. 

“What I wouldn’t do. To stay like this forever”, he spoke, voice so soft and incoherent, you almost mistook him for another. 

 “Going home was snatched from my fate, my angel. It was never an option”. 

He pushed his head against the increasing gravity, his eyes heavy. He glued your gaze to his, and you peered at your reflection wavering in his crashing waves– his irises, cloudy and grey. 

“So why does your embrace feel like home to me?” he asked, leaning forward ever so slightly, his breath uneven as he lingered at your lips before lifting his head, his misty blue eyes trapped behind his lashes. 

You were just an inch apart from his lips, and you could smell an assault of booze and liquor. Yet this time, you didn’t want to get drunk off of it. 

You wanted to savour it. 

Your hand seeped warmth through his cold cheek, his face glowing, a gentle radiance. 

So fragile, you shivered as you cradled him in your hand, jumping head first into the abyss of his eyes, trying to decipher the harbouring storm that formed underneath. 

He seeked permission, his lips drawing closer. 

And how could you refuse him, when he was sprawled in your lap, so exposed? So vulnerable? 

“I love you so much, Kaeya”, you whispered, only for him to hear. 

You were so inviting, so kind. 

His confident demeanour shrivelled; he didn’t know how to act when you patiently waited for his lips to close the gap.

So he cautiously pressed a peck to your lips. 

His sweet hesitance filled you with travelling butterflies that spread their wings, fluttering colour to your face, and comfort through your core. 

And for the first time, Kaeya felt as though his guard was melting. The heavy armour finally peeled away.

Such a simple moment, but for him it was so unfamiliar. 

His lips had touched many. But they were sloppy, sticky, and seductive. 

But he had never kissed someone. 

With love, tenderness, and care. 

You were his first. 

His first kiss.

Your thumb grazed past his cheek, your feather touches travelling to his jaw, shakily cupping it. 

“Is this okay?”

“Yes…”

And this time you closed the gap. Your hands left his face and rubbed his back. 

You felt as though he would shatter in your hold, like a shard of glass. Your breathing matched with the slow pace of his, as one of your hands travelled to his scalp, tenderly scratching it. Kaeya leaned into the touch, sighing as he pulled away from your lips, his eyes closed. Your fingers removed his worries, one by one, plucking at every strand and blowing them far, far away from him. 

You were the reason his head was lighter.  

You deserved so much more. 

“You deserve so much better than me…” he babbled, only to be silenced by another kiss. 

He pulled away to babble again.

“If you knew the real me, you would never come back”. 

You pulled him in again. Your taste was sugar for his bitter words. 

“Never let me go”, he pleaded. 

And you detached your hands from his back and head to extend your pinky forward. 

“Never”, you promised, curling your pinky around his. Such childish antics. Such sinless  memories. 

“I love you, Y/N”. 

-

With a dry throat and a splitting headache, Kaeya woke up to the ray of sunlight that peeked through the blinds. His eyes blinked the fatigue away, his hand shielding them from the piercing radiance. 

He examined the room he spent the night in. Unfamiliar as always. 

“I’ve gotta’ stop drinking”, he muttered.

Kaeya let out a yawn, before leaning his hand on the side of the bed, fingers reaching for a shirt. 

“How high is this thing?” he mumbled, leaning further down until they hit the wooden floor. 

Brows knit in frustration, he craned his head on the side, scanning the empty floor. Apart from the legs of a chair, there was nothing. 

Eyes squinting, he peered beyond the foot of the bed. 

Nothing. 

Just the chair standing solitude in front of the uncovered windows.

He couldn’t remember what he wore the day before either. 

Fuck. 

The sudden movements caught up to the throbbing ache drumming in his head. With a wince, he settled against the brick walls, closing his eyes to alleviate the pressure in his temple. 

The absence of his rapid movements cast pure silence in the room. And the early morning was kind enough to hold the burden of his thoughts temporarily; it cast pure silence in his mind. So when a soft rustle tainted the abyssal stillness, he flinched, the hair on his arms erect and alert. 

It was coming from beside him. On his left. Underneath a mast of thick, white linen. 

With a few strands of hair poking from the top, he shifted his focus onto the constant rise and fall. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

The air was still around him. 

Kaeya stared at the sleeping figure; his lips were pressed together, his fingers tense as they clutched his matching duvet.

Thoughts were crossing his mind again. The silence, destroyed. 

His hands reached towards the figure, reluctant. hesitant. 

Kaeya exhaled, breathing shallow. 

Using his thumb and index finger, he grabbed onto a crisp cover with the tips, drawing them back, inch by inch. 

His heart beat faster as he slowly unveiled the duvet, Every piece of revealed skin matching together as a puzzle until he reached the chin. 

Beside him lay delicate features, so innocent, lounging comfortably beside him. The light of dawn diffused a rosy hue on your cheeks. His glazed eyes began to thaw along with his hands. 

His smiling eyes trailed down the curve of your neck that disappeared into a silk collar, hidden. 

But then his smile dropped: eyes scrunched and lips parted. 

A collar.

And suddenly, he narrowed on the reflection behind you: his black shirt hanging off of his chest, with maybe one or two buttons open. His hair, tame. His skin, clear: empty of any bites or bruises. 

His gaze focused on the sliver of your exposed skin. 

Clear: empty of any bites or bruises. 

The forgotten headache was back, louder than before, seeking his attention as his vision disfigured. His chest tightened, his thoughts flooding the memories from last night. 

What did he say to you.

-

A lonely flask sat on the bedside table. An overwhelming absence. 

What a fool you truly were. 

A fool because you dove head first, even though you knew this would happen. 

How could someone say that they love you so much but then just decide that they don’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Kaeya Alberich could. He always did.

[scotianostra]

On 29th June 1559 John Knox preached a sermon in St Giles Edinburgh, that some regard as the real starting point of the Scottish reformation.

Knox is arguably the most famous Scottish Reformer, he was born at Giffordgate, East Lothian in 1505. and went to his local school and then to university in St Andrews, before becoming a deacon and a priest in the Catholic Church.

From 1542, Scotland was governed by Regent Arran as Mary Queen of Scots [link to First Reformation – Monarchs – Mary QOS] was still a baby. Arran benefited reform in Scotland in a number of ways. Firstly, he passed a law that allowed people to read the Bible in their own language. He then appointed the Protestant Thomas Guillame to preach around Scotland, and it was through his preaching that John Knox was converted. The biggest influence on Knox’s life however was George Wishart.

After Wishart’s was martyred in 1546, Knox taught the sons of a number of Protestants who had captured St Andrews Castle. Some of those in the castle called Knox to become their minister. At this he burst into tears and ran off to his room because of what a responsibility he knew it would be. A few days later however he accepted the call. In the summer of 1547 French warships attacked the castle. Knox was taken prisoner, kept aboard in one of the ships and forced to row it in chains with other galley slaves. After 19 months however he was set free, and went to England where he was appointed as a preacher in Berwick. He attacked the Roman Catholic mass as idolatry because it was ‘invented by the brain of man’ and not commanded by God. In 1551 he was invited to live in London and preach before king Edward VI.

In 1553, the Mary I became Queen. Knox felt his life was now in danger so he left for Europe becoming a minister in Frankfurt in Germany and then in Geneva in Switzerland where John Calvin was also a minister. In between he returned to Scotland to get married and preach, and was surprised at how far the teaching of the Reformers was spreading.

The short clip is John Knox outside St Giles preaching.

[altairtalisman]

Rae's Bio

"All or nothing, that basically sums up my life!"

More details on Rae is under the cut

Name: Radio "Rae" Lantern

Age: 756

Height: 185 cm

Birthday: 1 Unaiem 1266 (Zaeiem)

Orientation: Agender Toric Asexual

Pronouns: Dae/Daem

Species: Ravel

Country of Birth: Underworld

Likes: Racing sports, marshmallows, enamel pins, dice, Flying Puppy Shark's music

Dislikes: Strangers complimenting daer body too much, sand, rainy days

Hobbies: Gambling, hovercraft racing, collecting enamel pins, collecting dice

Personality: An adrenaline chaser, dae's an energetic and slightly reckless being that always lives each day as daer last. In a way, dae's justified in doing so considering daer species... Is the competitive type, and likes to rile daer fellow competitors up (within reason)

Style: Biker jackets with daer favourite pins pinned on the lapels and the hovercraft cube hung around daer hip chains

Abilities: Has a high immunity against magic, and is able to absorb any kind of fire. Also extremely resistant to physical damage due to daer sturdy armour-like body. Is able to conjure and manipulate fire as dae pleases, and is able to burn anything it touches

Background: Growing up in the darkest parts of the Underworld, dae knew that dae was prey for the other demons due to daer heritage and did daer best to fight them off. When dae was 59, dae decided to seek out other ravels in the brighter parts of the Underworld as dae believed that safety was found in numbers

However, dae never expected that daer fellow ravels would use daem as sacrifice whenever other demons hunt them down. Dae was often left for dead as a result, something which dae refused to do so. Dae learnt that as a ravel, Ratein's survival of the fittest philosophy was especially applicable to daem and did whatever dae could to survive. Dae decided to live each day as daer last, which quickly got daem into trouble. After racking up huge debts, the demons dae owed demanded that dae sell daemself to repay the debts. Naturally, dae refused and fled from them, hearing them yell what dae made out as "radio" at daem

Dae decided to go by Radio, finding it cool and also making it easier for daem to introduce daemself to others. Radio then left the Underworld, hopeful that the residents of the mortal plane didn't know how much ravels were worth. Upon arriving in Teqaejan in 1400, dae noticed that the Teqaejani shunned daem which made it hard for daem to find employment

To make money, Radio decided to gamble in Teqaejan's underground casinos, cheating in games so as to ensure that dae won. The casinos eventually banned daem as they were losing far too much money, essentially cutting daem off. Radio roamed across Ixsa'a, gambling daer way to financial stability while avoiding beings who realised daer body's value, sometimes fighting daer way out of these encounters

In 1505, dae eventually ended up in Porto'ok, a small Ixsa'an island that was struggling financially. Radio realised that the country wouldn't be able to pay daem should dae wins, and decided to change daer approach. Dae proposed a deal to the country, it would host gambling competitions and in turn, dae would participate in them due to daer reputation as a gambler who had never lost and not take any winnings so as to save its economy

Porto'ok, recognising that the deal was risky but desperate to save its economy, agreed and held gambling competitions that promised a payout of 5000 dhalats to anyone who placed first in the competitions. Radio then went all out with the cheating, aiming to uphold daer own deal so that the struggling island could get back on its feet. Dae was successful in winning first place each time, which lured many professional gamblers to the island in hopes of bring daem down and thus boosting the tourism industry

209 years after arriving in Porto'ok, the country's economy was finally stable and could afford to pay winners the full amount. Seeing this, Radio decided to no longer regularly participate in the gambling competitions and made plans to leave the country. A few Portokians introduced hovercrafts to daem, which interested daem as dae found the high speeds exhilarating. Radio then asked around if there were any hovercycle racing competitions in Ixsa'a, eventually learning that hovercycle racing wasn't popular in the continent

Dae encountered Kausar, a travelling ifrit dancer, in 1716 while working in a Portokian family restaurant to save enough money to leave Porto'ok. Radio was initially hostile towards them, but the latter reassured daem that they had no intention in hunting daem and could understand what it was like to be alienated from demon society. Kausar then informed the ravel that hovercycle racing was popular in Steruleang and Nebertade, with Steruleang being home to some of the most dangerous tracks and Nebertade home to the longest tracks

Radio decided to start off with the tracks in the latter continent, and decided to train in Dakröhi for it was known for its vast plains. Dae made daer way to the country in 1719, and raced against the equine spirits with an old hovercycle dae salvaged from a scrapyard. Radio took a liking to the peaceful country, and decided to stay longer than planned in Dakröhi

In 1782, dae decided to explore Dakröhi's mountainous region and climbed one of the most dangerous mountains. Dae encountered Sarnai, who informed daem that the ravel was trespassing and planned to kill daem where dae stood. Radio explained that dae didn't mean to and merely wanted to explore the dangerous mountain. Sarnai didn't believe daem and accused daem of wanting to steal the mountain herbs, which the ravel emphasised that dae had no plans to do so nor expressed any interest in them

Having not once met a ravel before, she expressed a desire to kill daem so that she could dissect daem to learn more about ravel physiology. Radio then sighed at how everyone wanted to kill daem for daer body parts, and stated that if Sarnai wished to do so, she would have to fight daem for daer body. Sarnai, empathising with how everyone wanted her for her body parts for medicinal purposes, decided to spare daem from harm and befriended the ravel, even going as far as to give daem her address and let daem stay with her while Radio was still in Dakröhi

Radio lived with Sarnai for a few months before heading to Varonwac for an international hovercycle racing competition. There, dae met Zeki, and immediately hit off over their love for hovercycle racing. Dae was pleasantly surprised to discover that Zeki was extremely skilled, and thoroughly enjoyed racing against him despite losing to him

After coming in second place, Radio lamented that it was a shame that in a few decades, Zeki would've passed and dae would've lost a worthy racing opponent. The latter then shared that he was actually a chronoven, and had an extremely long lifespan, so much so that it was he who would lose a worthy racing opponent when Radio daemself passed. Pleased that Zeki wouldn't be dying anytime soon, Radio declared that the chronoven was daer rival, the latter declaring the same. Zeki then remarked that the ravel's head burnt brightly even in complete darkness, akin to a trustworthy lantern. The ravel liked the comparison, and decided to make said object daer surname to express daer delight

Radio then continued to participate in hovercycle racing competitions across Ratein, earning daemself the nickname of "Trailblazer" for constantly leaving daer opponents behind. After winning a competition hosted by Wulfenz in 1897, dae decided to attend a hunted victims meeting session to meet others like daem on a whim. There, Radio instantly hit off with Astrid, a reindeer spirit from Noragulkor, and immediately asked for her address so that dae could exchange letters despite not having a permanent address at the time. They then encountered Sarnai, who was in the country to conduct a trial run with Hallowed Hotel. The ravel introduced the snow leopard spirit to Astrid, only to learn that they had met a short while ago

Upon learning that Radio still didn't have a permanent place to stay, Sarnai offered to buy daem a house in any country where dae wished to live. The ravel wasn't sure where dae should set up base in, and was torn between a few countries dae had visited. Eventually, he settled on Porto'ok as it was the country that welcomed daem despite their initial financial fragility, and it was the country where dae felt was the closest to the concept of 'home'

Currently, Radio earns money via participating in international hovercycle racing competitions as well as working part-time at the family restaurant dae used to work at in the 18th Century, with the occasional low-stakes clean gambling now that dae didn't have to go all in for daer lives. Dae also visits the Hallowed Hotel every now and then to attend Flying Puppy Shark's lives, with the additional aim of catching up with Bernhard as well as Sarnai, Astrid and Mira whenever they're in Wulfenz

[kedreeva]

There are good things in the world still

Today, I set a group of eggs to hatch in about 2 weeks. I am looking forward to more baby birds already.

Today, I received control of a website for an organization that I've been attending events for for the last 20 years, and I am looking forward to helping them improve after their quality went downhill because an asshole took over its presidency. I have hope!

Today I thawed the first bowl of chili from the big batch I made, and I was afraid it would not freeze/thaw with an acceptable texture, but it was just as delicious as the day I made the batch originally!

Today, I lost a button quail. Like it didn't die, it just flew out of the open cage and I had no idea where it went. After 20 minutes of searching, I looked up and saw him peeking over the ledge Bug loves to jump to. Watching me. Spying. He was recaptured successfully, and is fine!

There are good things left in this world, however small. This is your opportunity to reblog this and share your good things with each other, or check the notes if you need a reminder.

[elk96]

Connection -Part 3 (Final Part)

Pairing; J. Robert Oppenheimer (Cillian Murphy's Portrayal x doctor reader)

Word Count: 1505

Warnings: mentions of depression, slight mentions of suicidal thoughts.

The rain was tapping on the glass loudly, creating a calming buzz, interrupted by loud thunder. His heart sat tightly in his chest, his mouth dry. That had to stop. He couldn't keep on spending his evenings like that, he had work to do. 

y/N sighed, rubbed her eyes. She looked at the book he had clutched in his hands.

"How did you like it"?

Robert sucked in a breath. "It was excellent. Most…most enlightening".

"You felt you could relate huh", she asked pleasantly, and he nodded. 

"Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart", she quoted. Her patient nodded, a small smile feathering on his face.

She shifted on her seat, crossed her arms infront of her. Light conversation was over.

"You're of unusual intelligence Robert. Perhaps a bit more than large. I see that very clearly. And…my honest opinion is that you will find your way, eventually. You'll find a way to heal and step up to the circumstances. I'm here to help you do it quickly and without further consequences. I can't do that if you don't let me".

I won't judge you, her eyes promised, and Robert felt the truth in her words.

"I shouldn't have done that", he whispered.

"But you did do it. Because you felt something".

He dismissed whatever he'd felt with a nod. 

"All feelings are valid, Robert".

"I respect him greatly".

"I know".

"He makes me look like an idiot. He's charismatic, he's…smart"- his voice cracked painfully- "and… he deserves his reputation…".

"I don't give a damn about Blackett".

"Then why did you meet with him"? he asked sharply. He lowered his head. "I felt jealous, I guess. And…this couldn't go on for much longer. All the shame, and, the…the failure,.…-he was cruel.…Punishing".

He drew in a sharp breath in an attempt to calm himself down. 

"I didn't want him to die"! he rasped out in desperation. "I just left the apple there…and after that the incident didn't cross my mind at all, but, while I was asleep…".

He swallowed harshly and wiped a stray tear.

She was waiting for him to continue, posture calm and inviting, the smallest of smiles on her lips. As if it was all alright. As if it was normal.

"You're not your thoughts or your emotions, Robert", she said, almost guessing what was on his mind. "You're the witness of them. Everybody at some point of their life has felt jealous and angry, and whatnot. The fact that some people do not know how to control these emotions is not their fault".

Tears had started streaming down his face. His voice was faint, like the feel of moisture on their skin. "Who's is it"?

y/N shrugged. "Perhaps your parents', your teachers', your professors', your friends', the butcher's in your neighborhood. It doesn't matter".

The knot in his stomach pulled again-but this time it was kinder. It was from sympathy. 

"We're all broken, that's how the light gets in", she mumbled softly.

"Did…someone write that too"?

Her smile broadened. "Ernest Hemingway. Start with "The Sun Also Rises". You'll love it. Did you do any laboratory work these days? ", she then asked. 

Robert shook his head. "I don't want to go back there".

"Understandable. You know…at some point, you'll have to forgive yourself Robert".

He let out an ironic chuckle, but when he returned his gaze at her, his eyes were pleading. 

He felt as if he was standing at the edge of a cliff and was teetering between jumping on his own volition or being pushed over. Better leave on your own terms, he thought. His teeth were chattering-weirdly, because, everybody knew he'd done something so much worse. 

  "Yesterday…", he began with a shaky voice, "I was in the same wagon as a young lady and her boyfriend,- and they were kissing and I just… I don't know why…When he left…I kissed her… ".

A small sob made his shoulders wobble. "I can't control myself anymore", he whispered  in a small voice and as if to prove his words, tears started streaming down his cheeks hugging the corners of his jaw. 

He pushed himself to stop-it felt dangerous to have a psychiatrist hear him talk, see him unravel in front of her, but it was easier with her. 

He felt as if a weight was lifted off of his shoulders, as if she was there, to help, to reach out…and-and guide him. 

He shouldn't have done that- he wasn't responsible for his actions anymore…! but-

A gentle, warm hand came to rest on the back of his head. Robert released his face from his hands, only to see her close to him, her expression one of…of sympathy. 

Unbelievable though it was for him…she was there. Even when he wanted to cut his skin open-be freed, finally, from all these thoughts…

He took her hand and felt her warmth carry inside him, the most precious comfort. 

—-----------

~2 Months Later~

The sweet days of April had arrived, and the sun had begun to shake off the winter's mist. Moisture didn't stick to people's clothes anymore, they could hold pleasant conversations in their walks, unafraid of stepping in dirty water ponds. Robert found himself squinting his eyes so as to protect them from the sunlight and smiled to himself. 

He'd learned how to walk with his head straight up again, his heart felt surprisingly light, all thanks to that young doctor he'd been seeing. 

Today, however, he had one more reason to be happy: he was finally free. Off, to make a new beginning. 

He observed the little park across Dr. y/LN' office, the heaviness of the wooden staircase that led him there. His stomach clenched uneasily-not because he was ashamed or…afraid. He'd gotten rid of those feelings. Because of her. 

And this would be the last time he saw her.

She couldn't afford a secretary, at the age of 23 she had little clientele and therefore small paychecks. He knocked hesitantly at the door of her office.  He closed his eyes heavily upon hearing her happy voice. Not often would she get an unexpected patient, he supposed.

He walked to the tiny reception room, but while he was three steps in she called out to him. Either by smell or the sound of his footsteps, she'd recognised him.

"Hello Robert, good evening", she said, and he followed her inside. 

This time he ignored the comfortable armchair, eyes focused on her face.

"Won't you sit"? she asked.

He nodded with a sight.

Chewing lightly on her bottom lip-she did that while she was thinking sometimes- she examined his features for a few moments.

He cleared his throat, divided the weigh between the left and right foot. "I'm leaving Cambridge", he announced awkwardly, and she smiled, as if she'd already guessed it.

"I'll be going to Göttingen. It's…a theoretical physics university".

"Good. You'll…you will thrive there, I'm sure".

"I came to say goodbye. I thought I should…"

"Yeah, I'm glad you did", she muttered, unable to escape the uncomfortable energy that had settled in the room. 

She reached for him, they shook hands. Robert closed his eyes, grateful for the warmth of her. His breath itches when he feels her fingers tangle with his own- it's a new feeling…more…personal.

And then-oh good god- he feels rather than sees her rise to her toes, leaning in to press her lips on his. He doesn't dare breathe, scared the moment will just shatter. He can't bring himself to move either, he doesn't know what to do, it's his first time, and what if she thinks it's rejection?

She doesn't; she knows him better than his mother, better than he knows himself. She pulls back, opens her eyes, smiles at him. Her hand comes to cup his cheek, but at the corners of her eyes tears begin to swell. 

He leans in this time, feels the softness of her lips, inhales her perfume. She parts his lips with her tongue, and then it's just wetness and warmth. She sucks on his bottom lip, he explores her mouth, and it's so so different from that stupid kiss he'd had with that stranger. She sighs in his mouth and before his heart begins to flourish from the happiness she pulls back again.

Tears roll down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that, I'm your doctor", she blurts out in embarrassment. 

She fidgets with the hem of her skirt, Robert just stands there, unsure of how to act.

"This doesn't change anything by the way-and don't think it's out of putty!-I-I haven't told anyone. I'll send my report on Göttingen, and you'll be alright. I promise".

"I'll write to you", he promises.

She swallows harshly. Her hand somehow finds his again.

"When will you be leaving"?

Robert hugs her by the shoulder, brings her body flush against his.

"In a three day's time".

She lifts her face to meet his lips, and this time his heart guides him.

---------

I just wanted to thank those who like and reblogged the first two parts and gave me the motivation to finish this silly little story.

I didn't particularly like it's development, but I guess they deserved to have an ending.

And this final sceneI love.

Please tell me what you think if you read it!!!

[anythingeverythingm]

Day 7: Charlotte of Savoy

Charlotte of Savoy

Born: c. 1441/3 Died: 1 December 1483

Parents: Louis, Duke of Savoy and Anne of Cyprus Queen of France Children: Louis (18 October 1458 – 1460) Joachim (15 July 1459 – 29 November 1459) Louise (born and died in 1460) Anne (3 April 1461 − 14 November 1522) - the wife of Peter II, Duke of Bourbon Joan (23 April 1464 – 4 February 1505) - the wife of Louis XII, King of France Louis (born and died on 4 December 1466) Charles VIII of France (30 June 1470 – 8 April 1498) Francis, Duke of Berry (3 September 1472 – November 1473)

Charlotte of Savoy was one of the 19 children of Louis, Duke of Savoy and Anne of Cyprus.

On 11 March 1443, the one year old Charlotte was betrothed to Frederick of Saxony, son of Frederick II, Elector of Saxony, but the arrangement was annulled for unknown reasons. Almost 8 years later, on 14 February 1451, Charlotte married Louis, Dauphin of France,eldest son of Charles VII of France and Marie of Anjou. Charlotte was 9 years old and Louis was 27. Louis' previous wife died childless in 1445. The marriage took place without the King of France’s consent. Upon the wedding, Charlotte became Dauphine of France.

When Louis received news of his succession to the throne of France, he abandoned Charlotte at the Burgundian court.

On 22 July 1461 Charlotte became the Queen of France. Soon she became ill and was close to death by August 1462. She recovered but despite that her health remained weakened.

Louis XI kept his wife away from court at the Château of Amboise along with her household. Charlotte mostly spent her days with her sisters and courtiers, playing chess, marbles, doing needlework, praying, doing her religious duties and supervising her daughters' education. On very few occasions, she was asked to perform her ceremonial duties as queen such as greeting foreign dignitaries.

Charlotte served as regent of France in September 1465.

Louis died on 30 August 1483 and was succeeded by their son Charles VIII. He did not appoint a regent instead left instructions for a royal council to govern during the minority of Charles. Charlotte, Duke Jean de Bourbon II and their two sons-in-law Louis d'Orleans (married to their daughter Jeanne) and Peter II, Duke of Bourbon (married to their daughter Anne) were made members of the council although in practice their daughter Anne took over as regent.

A few months after her husband’s death, Charlotte died on 1 December 1483 in Amboise. They are buried together in the Basilica of Our Lady, Cléry in Cléry-Saint-André (Loiret) in the arrondissement of Orléans.

Charlotte was interested in literature, her manuscripts were the foundation of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. She was regarded as virtuous.

[en-scribed]

VEGA - Falling Eagle [short fantasy snippet]

A character introduction for a story co-created with @heirmyst about personified immortal Stars secretly living on Earth. Previous posts: [SUN] [ARCTURUS] Next posts: [POLARIS] [ABYSS] Word count: 1505

V could tell exactly when the rain began to fall, because suddenly, everything hurt like hell. 

Pulling their vest tighter over their own head, they cast envious glares at the other people walking around the park; surprised evening joggers speeding up as they scrambled toward shelter, relaxed couples with their well prepared umbrellas, kids jumping in puddles without a care, and… 

The resentment faded as quickly as it surfaced and V sat back with a pang of guilt. Wishing their own eternal Star woes on innocent humans should have been a worn out habit by now.

They returned their gaze to the scene with fresh eyes, this time with a smile. No matter what madness plagued the skies, humans would always find some way to stubbornly return to their day. 

As if to punish V for the scrap of happiness, the lamp posts flickered. Dark clouds invaded every free inch of the sky, escalating the drizzle to a proper storm. 

V scrambled to stand with a cry of surprise, keeping up the vest over her head even when it became useless. She searched their vicinity for cover, summoning forth the barest hint of a forcefield that would keep her safe in the meantime and still be out of onlookers’ sights. 

The rain cut through it like it was nothing. 

They willed themself to not scream as the frigid pinpricks splashed mercilessly across their face. “Giving me no choice, are you?” 

As they ran to take shelter beneath a closed ice cream stand, they kept thinking, Everything about this is wrong. Rain wasn’t supposed to sting this much. Why was it raining so much this close to summer anyway? Finally safe and catching their breath, they took a peak at their poor old vest, soaked beyond repair and… ever so slightly stained with an inky purple. 

The same color as whatever attacked the sun a few days ago. 

“Shit,” they said under their breath. “That’s… probably not normal.”

The train of thought ended there. V couldn’t think, after this long spent outside in night rain. They needed to go home. Everything would start making sense once they were back home.

If they could get there before the storm ended them. 

They steeled themself, watching the scene before them past the raindrops. People left the park in increments, knowing the weather was only going to get worse. Everyone set off toward home with such remarkable calm; V, the Star with the eternal flames at his disposal shouldn’t have blinked twice.

And yet… one glance toward the screaming, circling murk in the sky froze him in place, making him feel unfamiliarly, painfully small, because away from the shiny towering pillars of Isle Andromeda, that’s what they were. Did they really want to step out of this makeshift shell and face… whatever unforgivingly cold fury it would spear them with?

Unless they didn’t have to. 

V let the frankly insane idea settle and flashed a smile at the sky. “One way or another, I’m going home,” they said to themself, half convinced the storm would hear. “But first… this one’s for Sol.” 

They emerged from beneath the stand and tossed a single burst of flame into the clouds. It barely made a dent in the black clouds, but V didn’t care; it satisfied them either way. 

Wasting no time, they were a blue lightning bolt, off like a shot through the frantic, wide awake streets of Moldavite Bay.

I need to go home, they repeated to themself until it blocked out the deluge and the numbing pain. They knew it would be worse if they stopped. I need warmth. I need light. I—

A crash. Metallic weight pushed into her and screeched to a halt with a piercing horn, catching her at just the right moment to knock them off course. Too soon, V was on the ground, nestled within the glare of car headlights… back to appearing inoffensively human. They didn’t have to fake the gasps of pain; the freezing rain made that perfectly believable.

He lifted his head from the concrete and stared skyward, wishing for an early dawn to end the misery. “Why now?”

“I’m so sorry!” A young woman had rushed to their side, jolting their thoughts back to Earth. “I just got off duty and… I don’t know, I didn’t see you at all! Are you okay?”

V tried for a smile as she pulled them to their feet. They noted the woman’s white coat. A lit up sign reading Bukhari Bay Hospital flickered under the storm. As if that wasn’t enough, people nearby had stopped to stare. Just their luck. Couldn’t the universe give them a second to breathe lately? 

They took too long to answer. 

“It’s alright! Don’t panic!” the doctor instructed, clearly not encouraged by the lack of response. She promptly led them inside the hospital building.

“Wait!” they said quickly, regaining their senses as the dry roof above let them think again. Realizing how bad this looked, they didn’t dare to make any sudden moves to make it worse. They squinted at her name tag. “...Dr. Bukhari. It’s good! I’m all in one piece.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried about how firmly you insist on that?”

“Please,” V said with a laugh. It wasn’t as if a measly moving car could deal them even a scratch. “I think I’d be able to tell if I broke anything.”

She scanned them with a keen eye, leaving no stone unturned as she checked them for damage. V stood up straight and held their breath, hoping they hadn’t left any gaping holes in their body. V loved humans and their relentless instinct to take an interest in every passerby, but not when the scrutiny was directed toward them. 

“I can’t see anything too severe,” she conceded, disengaging and moving toward the reception. “Still. I feel awful. What’s your name again?”

“Victorin Oltak,” they answered, the nonsense cover name they picked for formal documents just because it shortened to V. Olt; a pun in plain sight that still carried a nice ring to it. Perfection.

Dr. Bukhari nodded toward the receptionist, who pulled out their file. V knew it was only more forged bullshit courtesy of the people on Isle Andromeda, meant to make their existence look less suspicious. She scanned their file quickly. “You have a brother?”

“Oh, him. Yeah, he’s great,” they said. The ‘brother’ in question, listed in their emergency contacts, was just Arc, a convenient person to pop into the city and cover their tracks in case anything happened. Despite his complaining, there was no one else V could think of to fill that role.

If the doctor called now, V didn’t know if Arc would be free to answer, but thankfully, she left it at that and put it aside. “Noted for next time. You’re sure you don’t need anything else?”

“I need to go home,” they said, and winked at the doctor. “I’ll try not to be hit by any cars on the way back.”

She nodded. “It’s honestly miraculous that you’re perfectly fine, but I won’t complain. Take care!”

The rest of the way, V had the dreaded task of walking home, because the lightning trick had proven too much of a gamble. Luckily, the raging downpour had subsided enough that the numbness was only a minor inconvenience, kept away by the subtle barrier of flame they were able to summon. It did an okay job of warding off the inexplicable pain until finally, finally, they reached home.

Smack in the middle of the city, the unremarkable little ground floor apartment greeted them. No Star of sound mind would call it a home, but fortunately enough, V had long since given up the pretense that he was a Star of sound mind. 

They switched the lights on, taking in the much needed sustenance as they sank into their living room couch. 

Her gaze shifted to the open window. Instantly, the sight of the settling storm filled them with such visceral revulsion; they wanted it far, far away from this cozy space they had carved out for themself. But they couldn’t find it in them to pull the blinds closed.

They needed to watch the sunrise first. 

Only a few days ago, the sun had been overtaken with dark tendrils, and V did not have any high hopes for what that meant for Sol. Even when it subsided, even when the sun rose the next day and the day after… the clouds remained, refusing to let it shine through the way it should have this time of year. It was easy to ignore most of the time, but now… there was no way to deny that V missed their best friend far too much.

Hours ticked by. The stormy, relentless night pushed on.

V took a page out of the humans’ book and ignored the disaster to go about their day, in silent wait for an unobstructed sun to tell them everything would be okay.

[whereintheworldismack]

So after 3 days of new years fireworks, I have finally relaxed and am happy about being in Berlin again. So I’ll tell you more about Xmas markets. One weekend we went to Erfurt, a city in central Germany. It was a great day. Everywhere we turned in this medieval city was more Xmas market stuff. Every plaza was different, some were just backyard squares that had little tiny markets, others were very large in major squares.

In addition to exploring so many we could not count, we explored the old town. The city goes back to 742. The Kramerbrucke (bridge) was rebuilt in stone rather than wood in 1325. It seemed that every narrow corner brought us to some other cool site. We climbed a really big hill to Erfurt cathedral which was built in the 1400’s. Martin Luther was a priest here in 1505. He had studied at Erfurt university which is the oldest university in Germany (1379). We also saw the old synagogue. One of the oldest in Europe. Parts of it were built in the 11th century, most between 1250 and 1320.

But the time we left for the long ride home, the streets were getting so crowded we could barely get thru. Mom had to hold me really tight to her, but my long body still kept getting caught between people. It was one of my favorite Xmas experiences. Of course the long car ride played in to that.