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Transcending Dimensions: Exploring Potentiality in the Quantum Realm
The endless abyss of potentiality is the womb of all existence, encompassing both the tangible and the potential. Just as a flickering candle disperses darkness, consciousness sheds light upon the uncharted depths of the subconscious. It is unfortunate that our innate inclination is to seek solace within the confines of familiarity. Letting go of the known threatens to unravel our perception of reality, compelling us to desperately cling to our established beliefs. We cannot let go of what we know as it would disrupt our perception of what we know as reality, so we desperately cling to our belief systems, it is all we know. We are deeply unsettled and disturbed by the idea of the unknown… death is a classic example of this. Are these tendencies our greatest hindrance?
The double-slit experiment, a cornerstone of quantum mechanics, invites us to question the nature of reality itself. This experiment can be a contentious one, but it truly does disrupt the foundation of what we know about reality. Matter can operate as particles or waves depending on who is watching... the observer and the observed do not appear to be separate entities but intertwined participants that are the foundation of the reality we perceive. Quantum entanglement, another marvel of the quantum world, transcends the confines of classical logic, it beautifully illustrates the interconnectedness that pervades the universe. It opens our minds to a reality beyond our grasp, where particles communicate instantaneously across vast distances, defying the constraints of space and time.
These are two profound examples of a realm we don’t yet understand. Perhaps we don’t understand the quantum world because we cannot yet perceive why these particles act a certain way in our current paradigm. In a 2D world, a stick person would perceive a three-dimensional object, such as a sphere, as a series of changing 2D shapes, like expanding and shrinking circles, depending on their perspective and position relative to the object. In our current reality, we perceive the world in 3D, but what if we had the cognitive capacity to perceive it in 4D? Perhaps we could understand the mechanics of this "spooky action at a distance” (Einstein), and therefore, ask the questions that are more appropriate to it’s multidimensional nature. This is speculative and hypothetical, but I can’t help but contemplate this idea.
If we aren’t open to new paradigms, the questions we ask will always be limited. What if, by shedding the limitations of certainty and embracing the fluidity of uncertainty, we could break free from the cyclical patterns that have disempowered humanity throughout history? What if, instead of clinging to our egos and rigid belief systems, we allowed ourselves to be swept away by the currents of curiosity and wonder? I do believe it would transform our current scientific model. In this paradigm-shifting thought, scientists become not mere seekers of knowledge, but explorers of consciousness itself. By transcending the limitations of linear thinking and embracing a multidimensional perspective, they may unearth deeper truths about the underlying fabric of reality.
When do we collectively choose to transcend our narrow, self-centered human existence and venture into the vast, abundant, and empowering abyss of infinite potential?

0D = dot (zero dimensions). 1D = The line that was drawn from the dot now has 2 dots (2 zero dimensions). 2D = The square has lines on all of its 4 sides (4 one-dimensions) 3D = The cube that we drew from this square has squares on all of its 6 sides (6 two dimensions) If we follow the same order… then the fourth dimension should have 8 cubes (4D = 8 x 3D) The fourth dimension should have 8 three dimensions. If we draw according to this, this is the shape of the 4th dimension. This shape is known as Tesseract. A Tesseract has 8 cubes in it. In geometry, as we increase the number of dimensions, their shapes will get more and more complicated to understand using our eyes. Illustration and Information from Santhosh Kumar D, Digitash.
The double-slit experiment is a fundamental experiment in quantum mechanics that demonstrates the wave-particle duality of quantum entities, such as electrons or photons. It involves shooting particles one at a time towards a barrier with two slits, which results in an interference pattern on a screen behind the barrier, suggesting that the particles exhibit wave-like behavior. This experiment highlights the bizarre nature of quantum mechanics, where particles can behave as both waves and particles simultaneously.
#empowerment#inspiration#infinite potential#spirituality#multidimensional#4D#3D#quantum physics#quantum mechanics#consciousness#science#perspective#limitless#limited#duality#unlimited#wonder#curiosity#paradigm shift#ask questions#knowledge#reality#abyss#potential#unknown#subconscious#mind#universe#atoms
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Topic: Sonic Bedroom Aesthetic
A few years ago I was standing in my bedroom, looking around at it's color scheme and textures. Sky blue walls. White popcorn ceiling with silver glitter stuck to it. Orange and green mesh IKEA organizers hanging from the ceiling. A pleasant latte color for the carpet, doors, windows, and frames. A furry white blanket and other blankets with a party of cutesy forest critters on them. Furry green, yellow, blue pillows and a fuzzy yellow backrest. It all felt really familiar right before I realized OH SNAP, IT'S LIKE GREEN HILL ZONE AND SONIC VIBES👀
Ever since then, I've been rolling with that theme and gradually adding more Sonic Vibes. A set of bedsheets printed with dark green & white checkerboard and compass rose pattern sheets. A rainbow flag curtain on one half of the corner window and a sunflower curtain on the other half. Cloud and rainbow LED lights sit on the windowsill. Sunflower string lights line the window frame, and an orange & blue lantern printed with butterflies & flowers hangs from the ceiling, with crystal sun catchers hanging from that. Blue, pink, green, and orange glow-in-the-dark stars stick to one section of the ceiling. A small rotating star lamp and a small rotating blue kaleidoscope lamp are positioned on a shelf to shine at the ceiling whenever I'm feeling either vibe.
As I reorganize my desk space and eventually swap the desk for a double-tiered/compartment one, I am adding and rearranging these items on it: A geometric pattern lamp, black & white checkerboard pencil case(s) and phone stand, orange and blue metal pen holders, lots of pens that have fake gems on top/inside them, fuzzy green and orange plaid pumpkins, fake flowers held in aesthetic empty bottles, and a pink Amy Rose themed flower bouquet held in a pink ceramic jar that says Blooms. I will eventually add a small sculpture that is fake flowers in a jar (shaped similarly like the enchanted rose jar in "Beauty and the Beast"), which reminds me of the sunflower kept alive in the item bubble in the Scrapnik Island comic storyline. I also thrifted a brown wooden footrest that has fuzzy green grass looking fabric on top. Having the knick-knack things on my desk might be impractical but it's for the ✨️aesthetic✨️, and I have a wide-ish coffee table as an additional workspace.
I was taking inventory of my candle storage bin and I found my small Target candle in a yellow jar that says ADVENTURE on it, and the scent is Citrus Sunflower. I have various candle holders that have butterflies/flowers/geometric/gemstone shaped patterns, and one with beaded vines. I have rainbow sequin ornaments that look like Chaos Emeralds and colorful pompom garland that I haven't found a place to hang yet, as well as "vine" ribbon (brown twine with green fabric leaves) to decorate here and there.
I am excited to finally curate a space that feels functional but also feels stimulating, colorful, and reflects my interests. It's funny, when I was younger, I wanted to paint my walls dark charcoal grey and have pops of pink, blue, purple and spooky touches for a Monster High and/or Nightmare Before Christmas themed room. I still have spooky elements in my room (it's always Halloween in my soooouuul), which could be dual references to my aforementioned interests and also Pumpkin Hill🤣
#sonic the hedgehog#sonic bedroom#themed bedroom#sth#sonic#interior design#aesthetic#sonic aesthetic#sonic vibes#bedroom#bedroom design#colorful bedroom#maximalism#color#sonic theme#geeky bedroom#maximalist bedroom#maximalist house
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Outdoor Dining Essentials: Host Alfresco Meals with Unbreakable Dinnerware
Outdoor dining is all about relaxed vibes, fresh air, and worry-free hosting. But windy terraces, playful kids, and clumsy guests demand dinnerware that’s as sturdy as it is stylish. At Black Carrot, we’ve curated outdoor-friendly collections that survive picnics, pool parties, and patio dinners. Here’s your guide to hosting alfresco meals with flair.
Why Outdoor Dining Demands Durable Dinnerware Unbreakable: Avoid shattering glass or ceramics on hard surfaces.
Lightweight: Easy to carry for beach trips or camping.
Weatherproof: Resistant to UV rays, humidity, and temperature swings.
Top Materials for Outdoor Dining 1. Melamine Pros: Shatterproof, vibrant prints, and kid-friendly.
Style: Tropical patterns or minimalist melamine dinner set.
Best For: Poolside snacks or garden parties.
2. Stainless Steel Pros: Unbreakable, rust-resistant, and retains temperature.
Use Case: Stainless steel bowls for salads or hot soups.
3. Enamelware Pros: Retro charm, chip-resistant, and lightweight.
Ideal For: Camping or rustic-themed gatherings.
4. Bamboo Pros: Eco-friendly, biodegradable, and heat-resistant.
Best For: Serving appetizers or desserts.
5 Must-Have Outdoor Dinnerware Pieces 1. Melamine Plate Set (₹1,499) Includes: 6 plates + 4 unbreakable bowls.
Design: Palm leaf prints for tropical vibes.
2. Stainless Steel Tumblers (₹699) Features: Double-walled insulation for hot/cold drinks.
Pair With: Travel mugs for coffee on the go.
3. Enamelware Camping Set (₹2,999) Includes: Plates, mugs, and a stainless steel bowl.
Durability: Rust-proof and easy to clean.
4. Bamboo Serving Trays (₹899) Eco-Friendly: Perfect for cheese platters or chaat.
Style: Natural texture pairs with melamine plates.
5. Silicone Collapsible Bowls (₹499) Space-Saving: Flatten for easy packing.
Use Case: Salads, dips, or pet food.
Styling Your Outdoor Table 1. Picnic-Perfect Setup Base: Gingham cloth or a bamboo mat.
Serve: Finger foods on melamine plates and drinks in stainless steel tumblers.
2. Poolside Glam Colors: Turquoise melamine dinner set with gold cutlery.
Accents: Floating candles in borosil bowls.
3. Rustic Camping Elements: Enamelware mugs, stainless steel utensils, and a portable grill.
Bonus: Roast marshmallows over a fire!
FAQ: Outdoor Dining Queries Q: Can melamine go in the microwave? A: No! Stick to ceramic plates for reheating.
Q: How to clean stained melamine? A: Soak in baking soda + water, then scrub gently.
Q: Best gift for campers? A: An enamelware camping set or collapsible bowls.
Conclusion: Dine Under the Stars, Stress-Free With Black Carrot’s outdoor dinnerware, you can host alfresco meals that are as effortless as they are unforgettable. From beach picnics to backyard BBQs, let your tableware handle the mess while you savor the moment.
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Calvin The New Trader – Calvin’s Forex Growth Group Struggling to find the right Trading Strategy? Learn step by step in a very simplistic way the Trading Steps Calvin is using every week! Contents Welcome to The Growth Group! Welcome to CALVIN’S FOREX GROWTH GROUP! A+ Setup Counter Trend Entries (For Scalpers, Day Traders & Swing Traders) Full Breakdown of A+ Setup Intro to A+ Setup Finding Trends & Drawing Fibs How to Use Fibs with A+ Setup Rules for Entry Using A+ Setup Live Examples A+ Setup (Part 1) Live Examples of A+ Setups (Part 2) Calvin’s Personal Rules for the A+ Setup A+ Setups for the New Trading Week (Live Chart Mark Up’s) A+ SETUPS for March 5th 2024 Week of 4.28.24 A+ Setups Make Money Everyday 3.0 (For Day/Swing Traders) Day trading/Swing Strategy Full Breakdown (Make Money Everyday 3.0) GBPUSD Backtesting Example XAUUSD Backtesting Example Double Bottom/Double Top Patterns Head and Shoulders/Inverse Head and Shoulders Pattern Make Money Everyday 1.0 (For Scalpers) Full Breakdown (Make Money Everyday 1.0) Examples of Drawing Zones for Make Money Everyday 1.0 Ways to Stay Motivated How to Deal with a Rough Week of Trading (Back to Back Losses) How to Stay Motivated when the Process of Learning is Boring and Slow How to Overcome the Feeling of Giving Up How to Fight Bad Trading Habits How to Handle Family & Loved Ones not believing in Trading Mastermind/Q&A Call Recordings JUNE 5TH 2024 JUNE 3RD 2024 MAY 30th 2024 May 5th Q&A Call March 1st Q&A Call April 29th Q&A Call April 15th 2024 April 12th 2024 (Reviewing Winning Trade Setups from the Week) Forex Beginner Basics How The Forex Market Works Understanding Currency Pairs News Understanding Brokers Charting (Tradingview.com) Candle Sticks Trading Sessions Understanding The Trend Pending Orders Risk To Reward Explained ENTRY A,B & C (MME) Market Direction NEW Direction Entry A Entry B Entry C Areas of Interest Entry Setup A Examples (Live Q&A Call) What Is Your Money Mindset? Where to Place Your Stop Loss & Take Profit MAKE MONEY EVERYDAY STRATEGY (1.0) Make Money Everyday Strategy Check List! Make Money Everyday Part 1 Make Money Everyday Part 2 Make Money Everyday Part 3 Make Money Everyday Part 4 Make Money Everyday Part 5 When to Enter Trades (Make Money Everyday) Fibs + Make Money Everyday How to Identify High Probability Trades + How to Enter When NOT to Trade and When To Trade! Walking Through a Trade Setup! Step by Step Breakdown How to Backtest! Trading The LIVE Market Using Make Money Everyday Strategy How To Find Valid Trade Setups Using The Basics of Forex 101 Introduction
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The path to reconciling these two perspectives is to say that sK and zK represent a different length of candle. I’ve spent time analyzing the shadow idea and the only way that works is if the candle itself, if the stick of the length of the segment changes. The reason it changes is that it’s 1Space and this is a 1Segment, and thus it flows infinitely or at least to the n-1 conception of infinity, meaning it’s countable without apparent End, where countable means the candle continues. That means the candle is inserted as a pole and extrudes over the candle lengths in a chain of such insertions, a repeated in and out that brings home how deeply intertwined gender identity is because this requires two genders who in gs construction become D3-4//4-3 Objects, meaning becomes flesh, becames life.
So reproduction roots in the in and out of Injection. Each Bip constructs, and the method of that construction involves taking two lengths of candle in just the 1Square, with the grid of 1 unit being xK and yK, and the other candle being the literal D-structure representation of a 1-0Segment, meaning D2. That is, the other candle, the regular 1 length, is D1 after D1 after D1, and that lays out the various Boundaries for that candle length. But the pole is only at this length of 1 because that is the layer we count at in the grid: it’s an arbitrary choice of 1, so the actual measure of 1 versus other 1’s is why use concepts like measure 0 and less dense. That’s a nice bit of number theory coming out of thin air. Nice to know. Really helps me understand those ideas: they’re manifestations of this process.
All this means the candle length flips to whatever fits the count, and across a gs is D2 in one orientation, D4 in both, where orientation means choice of sK or zK, not within either or both of those. This works by seeing SBE as the 1 in the center is actually the 4 in 2-slit because you don’t actually look at the movement of which route, and then S and E Attach alternately because simultaneity is ideal, meaning it isn’t a stable state unless sped up so oh right: that was one of the points we developed about CM64, that the conception of a Thing of minimum pattern describing Planck’s constant means that we see the effect of all the calculation, of all the permutation potential within what is a CM64 appearing out of and disappearing into that which can’t be calculated from this side. As I remember, we see that in the exponent and also in the often used reduced Planck, which takes the idea of Halving and thus Doubling.
So when we twist to the side by 45 degrees, the candle fits to match D2 counting in Alternation from S over B, meaning over that ambiguity and thus over an IC space of 4gs within a gs, which thus draws the Bip as the center Injection point within the gs, which we see is gs(m) so gs(n) appear as the 4gs within, scaled to gs(m) size, which also thus locates other Bips so the layers connect like they’re laminated. That’s a usage of 2 different lengths of candle.
The candle in this universe is how many candles does it take to count to 3, which is like 300,000,000, of which nearly all, over 299,000,000, is constructed as an Extent, with the rest an object which Attaches to the Extent, as seen by the 419 so the +1 is the Extent, so certain forms of information, notably wavelength and frequency, and that we can see now is literally counting in grid squares, meaning we have described the method by which that rationalization, that I//I process occurs.
So accepting the idea of the candle, which is fairly obvious when you think it has to be invariant so it can vary when you constrain into a basis, meaning when you convert gs to rs, to regular squares, generates this next level of understanding. That is why we use Understanding as notation: it captures the concepts of a ring in a field, along with other ways to express different levels of meaning across some set of attributes. It’s a kind of specification, of course, and now I’m seeing all sorts of pathways, and those become algebras and groups, and topologies, and objects, particularly abstract iObjects because we see how these tether to and exist within constraints, including those which you don’t see because your perspective is limiting you no matter what, and we’re damaged bad at best.
Funny, but the last few days has seen that Storyline return, with big changes that link to this appearance of saying yes because I somehow never noticed the obvious, that Molly and Elizabeth are ME in Triangular.
BTW, my guy from the chiefs is here. A fire chief. He’s trying to figure out the smoke detector situation. He drove all the way from Lynn.
So, the idea is that we take 2 invariants, which obviously means 2 Irreducibles, and those form an I//I, and that solves the central problem of gs versus rs because now we have labels for each of the gs as rs and vice versa. So, gs and thus 0Space and thus reals construct at the level where 1Space and 0Space combine into a projection. This projection has depth because objects within it are D3-4, meaning they can be abstracted to dots or bar graphs or whatever, since they can be treated as Ends with or without certain attributes which can be tracked, compared, etc. In other words, this is why at scale we see statistics.
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Took a break. Made food. Question and idea: why don’t people blend meat with beans? I just chopped a good handful of black beans with red onion, salt, and chipotle, then blended that into ¼lb of ground chicken. Made more food at a lower price. I’ve done mixes which stretched the meat to near double and the results have always been better than plain chicken, and often meatier tasting. If you make your own beans, then you can offer better quality chicken cut with these fillers for a good price, or can lower the cost. It’s an obvious idea, but I don’t remember seeing it anywhere. Black beans add a bit of chew that recalls ground beef or pork, while canellini beans add the unctuous quality you get from animal fat. And because it’s chicken, you can flavor it lots of ways, and add appropriate cheese and a sauce and have a whole menu.
Wouldn’t that be great to fit to local farms raising chickens, as a way to get better food to more people? I hope it could work because that would further that good, help its Extent grow. Interesting how saying that brings up games like Go, because an Extent may not be a good Boundary, like the Russian counterattack around Stalingrad showed.
Does this satisfy? I think it does, but I’ll post and see. I was up at 4:30 this 15 Nov 2023 to be doorman for the cat. Then he wanted to sit near me until I nodded off. Considering the stress he’s under, not that bad.
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How to Expertly Use Silicone Candle Molds

How to Use Silicone Candle Molds
Introduction Silicone candle molds offer an incredible range of possibilities for candle makers. The art of making candles has been revolutionized by these adaptable and sturdy molds, which enable enthusiasts to produce intricate and distinctive designs. However, mastering the art of using silicone candle molds requires some know-how. To help you use silicone candle molds like a pro, we'll walk you through the procedure in this article while offering you professional advice and techniques.

Choosing the Right Mold - Opt for high-quality silicone molds: To ensure the best results, invest in high-quality silicone molds that are designed for candle making. These molds are more durable and heat-resistant, resulting in smoother and cleaner candles. 2. Consider the shape and size: Silicone molds come in various shapes and sizes. Choose a mold that complements your desired candle design. From classic pillar molds to whimsical geometrical shapes, the choices are limitless. 3. Explore unique designs: Don't be afraid to venture beyond the conventional candle shapes. Look for molds that feature intricate patterns or detailed textures to add a touch of elegance and uniqueness to your candles.

Preparing the Silicone Mold - Clean and dry the mold: Before each use, ensure that the silicone mold is clean and free from dust or debris. Wash it with mild soap and water, then dry it to avoid unwanted residue on your candles. 2. Apply a release agent: To facilitate an easy release of your candles from the mold, consider applying a thin layer of a suitable release agent, such as silicone spray or vegetable oil. This will help prevent your candles from sticking to the mold, ensuring a smooth and flawless finish.

Setting Up for Success a. Create a stable workstation: Set up a dedicated workspace that provides a stable and level surface for your candle-making process. This will minimize the risk of any mishaps or accidents. b. Gather your supplies: Before you begin, ensure you have all the supplies within reach. This includes your chosen wax, fragrance oils, wicks, and any additional decorative elements you plan to incorporate into your candles. Pouring the Wax a. Melt the wax: Melt your chosen wax using a double boiler or a specialized wax melter. Maintain the manufacturer's recommended temperature for the specific type of wax you are using to achieve optimal results. b. Add fragrance oils: If desired, incorporate fragrance oils into the melted wax. Be cautious not to exceed the recommended fragrance load; this may affect the quality and performance of your candle. c. Pour the wax into the mold: Slowly pour the melted wax into the silicone mold, ensuring it fills each cavity. Avoid over-pouring, as this may cause an uneven surface or difficulty in removing the candles from the mold.

Setting and Unmolding the Candles - Allow the wax to cool and set: Give the wax sufficient time to cool and solidify. Follow the recommended cooling time provided by your wax manufacturer for optimum results. 2. Unmold the candles: Gently flex the silicone mold to release the hardened candles. The flexibility of silicone molds makes unmolding a breeze, as the candles easily pop out without any damage. Finishing Touches a. Trim the wicks: Trim the wicks to an appropriate length (usually around ¼ inch) for a clean and efficient burn. b. Decorate as desired: Personalize your candles with embeds like ribbons, beads, or dried flowers. Create candles that reflect your unique style and personality.

Final Words By following these expert tips and techniques, you are now equipped with the knowledge to use silicone candle molds like a pro. Experiment with different designs, shapes, and colors as your imagination soars. With practice and a keen eye for detail, you will soon be producing professional-quality candles that will impress yourself and others. Happy candle-making! Read the full article
#howtomakeasiliconemouldforcandles#howtomakemoldforcandle#howtomakesiliconemouldsforwaxmelts#howtouseasiliconecandlemold#howtouseasiliconemoldforcandles#howtousesiliconemoldsforcandlemaking#howtousesiliconemoldsforcandles
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mariners apartment complex feels like…

- stripped cotton v necks paired with distressed daisy dukes.
- barefoot dancing with a soaked crop top in the onslaught of the summer rain, humid air sticking your shirt to your skin.
- temporary tattoos that fade before they can even settle.
- cloud gazing on the front hood, lounging on the side of a car as if it’s a piece of furniture.
- malboro cigarettes paired with an open vanilla coke.
- tiny hoop earrings paired with a stud earring in double pierced lobes.
- knee socks paired with short shorts.
- worn and stained yellow converse with perfectly white shoe laces.
- cotton candy themed perfume, the scent so fleeting that it’s phantom scent lasts in the air longer than the actual fragrance itself.
- early morning baths, the water running cold once the sun rises over the horizon.
- floral sofas with decorative pillows that possess a rough texturized pattern and tassel string around the edges.
- smoking on a windowsill at dawn
- listening to the same bird song you’ve heard since childhood.
- dried mud marks on the side of a navy blue pickup truck.
- mixed slushee flavors from the small one stop shop with 4 gas pumps and a halfway convenience area.
- love hotels in the backends of alleys and under brushes of trees with heart shaped tubs and intricately threaded duvet coverings.
- fiddling with a heart locket while laying on a made bed in the mid afternoon between the hours 3 and 4 PM.
- napping against a tree, the summer cicadas and birds filling your ears
- tire swings in june.
- weather themed earrings.
- drug store hauls on a road trip.
- books bound with blue leather and gilded gold pages
- using a clothesline to dry frilly delicates and underthings
- sparkly heels with jeans
- glass coke bottles turned into candles
- posters with lipstick marks in different shades all over them
- fuzzy sounding vinyl records that still miraculously work after years of wear and tear
- waitressing at a small mom and pop establishment
- cheap booze spilt all over leather car seats
- frugal but meaningful gifts
- yellow vintage cars with modified rims and a drop top
- feeling all of those old feelings reignite after seeing someone you haven’t seen in forever
- sleeping with pillows and an old quilted blanket on the floor
- lukewarm coffee at 11 AM
- hotel pancakes and cereal ten minutes before breakfast closes
- riding in the passenger seat with your feet sitting out of the window
- drinking your cold soda on the curb in front of the gas station
- diamond stud belly rings.
- fur covered diaries with locks and every crush you’ve had since elementary
#coquette#lana del rey#lizzy grant#coquette aesthetic#alana champion#lily rose depp#alanabc#norman fucking rockwell#girlblogging#girl blogger#sadgirl#the feminine urge#the virgin suicides#born to die#hyper feminine#2014 tumblr#summer
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Spiritual Spotlight: Pulura, the Shimmering Maiden
Chaotic Good Empyreal Lord of Constellations, Homesickness, and Morning Lights
Domains: Air, Chaos, Good, Weather Subdomains: Azata, Cloud, Seasons, Stars
Chronicles of Righteousness, pg. 20
Obedience: Sit on the ground with your head tilted back to study the stars. Maintain the position for an hour and identify 12 constellations. If you cannot see the stars, draw the patterns of 12 constellations on a semi-permanent surface, such as a wall or hard floor. Benefit: The light radius of any light source you hold or conjure increases by 10 feet.
As maiden of star charts and constellations, Pulura’s Obedience obviously falls into the category of ‘do the previous night just before going to bed’ rituals. It’s a very simple Obedience that rewards your knowledge of the cosmos and the constellations of various cultures all over the planet! Just one cluster of stars in the sky can be as many as three different constellations to three different groups of people, letting you get a lot of mi--okay yeah that’s completely unnecessary, considering it’d take an extremely nitpicky DM to tell you that you can only see, like, five or six constellations on a given night just to screw you out of your Obedience.
Even if you can’t see the requisite number, or even any constellations at all, there’s an easy-to-do alternate Obedience built right in. It requires a little bit of graffiti, but if all you’re doing is tracing them in the dirt with a stick or scribbling them on a wall with chalk, it’s hardly a punishable offense except in the strictest of societies (and thus the ones you’re most likely to be helping). It might even make people watching you curious about what you’re drawing, allowing you the opportunity to educate them on the beautiful heavens above!
And that benefit is something COMPLETELY unique, and the reason this particular god caught my attention! Mind, it’s not particularly powerful, but the uniqueness and its various small uses can’t be denied! For one, simply by picking up a common candle or lighting a tindertwig, you’ve created a light source as powerful as the average torch. And torches themselves? Well, an extra 10ft of shine can help alert your party to dangers lurking just outside their normal field of vision! I like that this power works even with light sources you’re simply holding in your hand; your allies can pass glowing weapons or items to you just so you can get a bit of extra juice out of them!
This effect also makes your light-producing spells a bit juicier, because many spells have effects that hit everything that their glow does. Sometimes this even doubles their area of effect! ... Though in my personal research I’ve found few it would actually work on in a meaningful way. This stacks in a fun way with the Solar Spell Metamagic, potentially inflicting penalties on specific foes bathed in the light of your radiance!
More often than not, though, it’s just going to give you a little more reach with a normal torch. But, really, that extra 10ft might just give you a little more edge than you’d think you needed...
Boons are gained slowly, typically achieved once you reach 12, 16, and 20 Hit Dice. Followers of the Empyreal Lords, however, can enter the Mystery Cultist Prestige Class at level 8, which grants them their Boons much quicker! Entered as early as possible, you gain the Boons at levels 10, 13, and 16 instead. Mystery Cultists MUST take the Celestial Obedience feat, NOT Deific Obedience.
Empyreal Lords do not grant the typical Evangelist/Exalted/Sentinel spread (and cannot enter those classes), instead having only one set of Boons granted to their followers regardless of their class.
Boon 1: Aurora. Gain Color Spray 3/day, Continual Flame 2/day, or Guiding Star 1/day.
And here we have a very strange set of spell-likes. You will, more often than not, be carrying Color Spray around because you’ve cast the other two previously at some point in the week and no longer need to use them! Continual Flame is definitely not a spell you’ll need every day--and definitely not 2/day--because, as its name suggests, it creates an everlasting torchlight. Once it’s used, it doesn’t need to be used again! A single everlasting torch can sometimes be at your side for your entire adventuring career! That’s why it’s got an entry cost of 50gp, though you can create it for free.
Maybe if adventuring doesn’t work out, you can start a business selling Everburning Torches and star charts?
If you’re wondering about Guiding Star, it’s a spell with a niche use, but a powerful one. After its 1-minute cast time concludes, you create a bond with your surrounding area, after which the spell lingers like a beacon for 1 day per level. At will as a standard action after casting it, you can determine the distance and direction between yourself and the chosen location. It’s no Find the Path, but it will keep you from ever getting lost in open locations like mountains, forests, and planes. With Guiding Star acting as your north and knowledge of landmarks, you can easily work your way backwards through just about anything that’s not a labyrinth or twisting cavern... provided your journey can be completed in about a week or so, mind.
Casting the spell again ends your previous bond instead of refreshing it, but its purpose and duration means that it, too, will likely never be something you cast more than once a week anyway. This just leaves Color Spray, one of the best level 1 spells you could have at levels 1 to 4... but which lost its full usefulness about 3 to 5 levels ago by the time you get it, with a saving throw (11 + Cha mod) that means it’ll likely never be useful as anything but a method to non-lethally deal with enemies too low-level for you to waste any other action on. There is the off-chance it can stun a number of high-level enemies, there’s always a chance they flub their save, but don’t count on it. It’s a cute spell to have in an emergency, but you probably have better.
Boon 2: Starshot. 3/day, you can transmute up to 1 sling bullet per HD into a bullet of starlight. These bullets function as +2 Brilliant Energy Bullets. Bullets of starlight last for 1 minute and shed light in a 10-foot radius.
Now here’s something interesting! Pulura’s sacred weapon is the sling, meaning you’re likely already using it unless you’re a pure caster (and even in that case, it makes an excellent emergency weapon for casters anyway), and with an investment of just two feats taken as early as level 1 you can hurl your full-attack’s-worth of sling bullets without needing to waste actions reloading, entirely negating the downsides of using a sling in the first place. With one more feat, you can even go into melee with it! NOTE: Do Not Do This.
This Boon is a pretty good one, giving you enough ammunition to carry you through most of the major battles you can expect to face in a day. By the time you get this Boon you’re changing 13 bullets into powerful, AC-ignoring projectiles that deal 1d4+2 damage at base, which doesn’t sound particularly impressive, but slings key off of Strength due to basically being glorified thrown weapons which is usually enough to keep your damage contribution noticeable. Especially since, again, these are Brilliant Energy bullets, meaning they ignore armor and shield bonuses to AC! Heavily-armored enemies are as vulnerable as wizards wrapped in sackcloth against your sling, but it does come with an unfortunate downside: Brilliant Energy only affects living beings. Undead, Constructs, and any object you target are completely unaffected by your new enchanted bullets.
Which kinda sucks, considering Undead tend to be in the top 3 enemy types most often faced by Good parties. And Evil parties. And parties in general. You can’t even do any cute disarming or sundering tricks with it!
You know what you CAN do, though? Shoot people through walls. No, that’s not a power specifically listed under Brilliant Energy, but the description says it “ignores nonliving matter!” It’s SUPER easy to make the case for it being able to sling straight through a wall, door, or other impediment to hit whatever is on the other side without fear of immediate retaliation! It’s not even that much of a stretch to make it so!
Boon 3: Otherworldly Traveler. You can cast Interplanetary Teleport 1/day as a spell-like ability.
I haven’t seen a Boon with this much overkill baked into it since Barbatos’ ability to call a friendly Pit Fiend to your side, and that’s saying something. I can’t really think of a scenario in which you’d need to go to other planets with enough regularity to need this spell every day, and a DM should be extremely careful with handing the keys to the cosmos to their players. Any caster capable of casting level 9 spells is a campaign-warping threat already, but you can do it two levels early and gain access to a spell that allows you to go anywhere at all ever.
It’s the ultimate escape and exploration tool, as very few villains will have the power to chase a party to another planet if they flee to recuperate. If you don’t want to go across the universe, Interplanetary Teleport also acts as just a normal Teleport/Greater Teleport spell with no range limit and no chance of failure. Having even a general idea of where you want to go takes you there without a teleport mishap, and the spell automatically places you at the safest possible location if your imagined destination would be immediately hostile to your life, leaving little consequence for the DM to level against you if you decide to poof to Aucturn or something.
I can’t truly type a lot on this, because people should generally know how strong an unrestricted teleportation ability can be, even at just 1/day, but the potential danger of a party suddenly having access to the entire galaxy is worth warning hopeful DMs: You should probably just replace this with Greater Teleport with no failure chance unless you want the party suddenly considering all the nonsense they can do with their new access to the markets and/or populations of Akiton, Castrovel, and Eox.
You can read more about her here.
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winged cupid painted blind // Anthony Bridgerton
Request: I’d really love something based on love story by Taylor Swift. The lines “We keep quite cuz we’re dead if they knew” and “take me somewhere we can be alone” stick out to me // I was thinking that the reader could be from a family that isn’t well off and her and Anthony meet at a ball somehow. They create a ruse that she’s from a well known family so that the gossips in the ton don’t attack her because Anthony has fallen in love with a “commoner.” All the Bridgertons are in on the ruse and at the end of the story Anthony proposes - @whovianwholikesgirls
A/N: Why is it that every Bridgerton fic I write, I end up writing thousands and thousands of words? This is long and I am sorry for that! As always, I hope I have done your request justice and that I hope you like!
Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader
Warnings: she/her pronouns, female reader, class divides, pining, mutual pining, lots of fluff, dancing, kissing, happy ending, Anthony in love.
Word count: 7.7k
Madame Delacroix’s took up the central property on the most prosperous street coming just off of Grosvenor Square. The most popular modiste in London, many of society’s richest families flocked to her door in order to claim their own dress made by the talented seamstress.
Anthony sighs as he climbs down from the carriage. His mother must be in a particular benevolent mood to send him to pick up her newest dress from the modiste. Anthony would much rather be spending his day at his club, but he finds himself ringing the modiste’s bell for service.
“Monsieur Bridgerton!” Madame Delacroix smiles, delighted at the sight of the Viscount. “How can I help you?” She asks, her smile turning flirtatious.
Anthony responds with his own flirtatious smile. “I’m here to pick up a dress for my mother.”
“Of course, of course,” Madame Delacroix sings, “I have it over here. I finished it last night. It is divine!”
“My mother will surely thank you,” Anthony states earnestly, his gaze dancing around the room filled to the brim with fabrics and ribbons, models and hoops.
“No need,” Madame Delacroix, “The Bridgertons are my best customers.”
Anthony takes the offered box, marvelling at the lightness of its weight. For all the skirts, for all the numerous pieces of fabric that go into making a dress, Anthony will always remain shocked at the featherlight weight of it.
“Will Lady Bridgerton be wearing this to the Hastings’ ball tonight?” The modiste asks, her tone light as she tries her best to keep the burning curiosity out of her voice.
“Most likely,” Anthony smiles, tipping his head in goodbye.
The modiste calls out her goodbyes as Anthony walks out the door. He doesn’t pay much attention to where he is going; only knowing that he needs to turn left in order to reach his carriage. The very thought has him rushing, safe in the knowledge that the quicker he got his done, the quicker he would be at his club.
It’s that self-indulgent thought that had Anthony distracted enough to walk into something hard.
“Oh!” A feminine voice gasps as Anthony catches her elbow whilst keeping a tight hold on the dress box.
“My apologies,” Anthony offers, steadying the unknown woman.
“You’re forgiven,” She murmurs dryly, turning her attention back to the seamstresses window.
“You aren’t hurt, are you?”
“No, I’m perfectly fine. Thank you for your concern, Lord Bridgerton.”
“My pleasure, Miss…”
“(Y/L/N).”
“My pleasure, Miss (Y/L/N),” Anthony repeats, adjusting the dress box in his hands. He goes to say something else but notices her slyly counting the money in her purse, watching her frown when she realises she cannot afford the prices set by Madame Delacroix.
“Have a nice day, Lord Bridgerton,” Miss (Y/L/N) remarks, stepping away from the Viscount to begin her walk home. She didn’t need a Viscount to be witness to her money troubles; she had thought she had enough, but the prices must have been increased since the last time she had wandered past the window. It would be another two weeks of saving before she could afford a new set of ribbons; it wasn’t worth it at this point, she sighed to herself.
“You too!” Anthony shouts to her retreating figure, feeling upset on her behalf that she could not afford the ribbons she was so dazedly admiring. Shaking off the uncomfortable feeling, Anthony climbs into the carriage, thinking of the young woman all the way home.
-----
“Jayne!” (Y/N) laughs, “Slow down! I’m going to lose a shoe.”
“Alright, Cinderella,” Jayne snickers, slowing her pace as she climbs the winding staircase to the home of the Duke and Duchess of Hastings.
“Have you ever seen such a home?” (Y/N) gasps; eyes widening as she takes in the grand structure. The brickwork is immaculate; many red bricks painted black to give the impression of a crosshatch pattern spreading across the building. This is only highlighted by the many windows; all seemingly lit by a countless number of candles and sconces.
“(Y/N)!” Jayne shouts, “Stop admiring the building! We have a dance to get to.”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” (Y/N) laughs, hurrying after her friend who has already handed over their invitation.
Jayne grips (Y/N)’s hand tightly as they enter the ballroom together. The event is in full swing; the dancefloor already full with couples dancing a quadrille.
“Would you dance with me?” The handsome brunette asks of Jayne, staring at her hopefully. Jayne casts her gaze to (Y/N), not wanting to leave her friend, but wanting very much to dance with the handsome man.
(Y/N) nudges Jayne forward, answering for her. “She would be delighted.”
Jayne sends her a thankful smile as she joins more and more couples on the dancefloor.
The drinks table isn’t busy at all as (Y/N) wanders over. She makes sure to keep an eye on Jayne, watching her dance with what looks to be a Rokesby. (Y/N) shakes her head fondly at her friend; ten minutes into a ball and she’s already caught the attention of a member of one of the richest families in England.
Turning her attention away from her friend, (Y/N) reaches for a glass of lemonade when her hand brushes with a man clearly wanting the same glass. (Y/N) pulls her hand away, not wanting to cause any trouble at a ball she wasn’t even invited to.
“My apologies,” She murmurs, grabbing another glass from the many.
“You’re forgiven,” A voice drawls. (Y/N) glances upwards through her lashes to find Anthony Bridgerton watching her with a confused expression.
“Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) greets, curtseying lightly at the sight of her superior.
Anthony nods. He remains silent as he stands next to her; it’s not an awkward silence, rather, one where (Y/N) can practically hear the cogs and gears winding in Anthony’s mind, trying to figure out where he knows her from. If he knows her at all.
“I met you this morning,” Anthony recalls suddenly, snapping his fingers together when he remembers why he recognises the woman standing next to him.
“You almost knocked me over,” She states wryly, lifting her glass to her lips to take a tentative sip of the lukewarm lemonade.
“I believe I apologised for that, Miss (Y/L/N).”
“Call me (Y/N). And I forgave you,” She states simply, “But It doesn’t mean I’m going to let you forget it, however.”
“I’d be disappointed in you, if you did.”
(Y/N) laughs. The very sound music to Anthony’s ears and he briefly wonders whether he could have the sound imprinted on his brain; to hear her laughter for an eternity.
“What are you doing here?” Anthony asks, taking a pull of his lemonade before wrinkling his nose. Too sweet, not sour enough. “Are you here with your parents?”
“I wasn’t technically invited,” She confesses to the Viscount in a conspiratorial whisper. Anthony’s eyes widen when her words land, “What?”
“I came to chaperone my friend, Jayne. You may know her, she’s Lord Dorchester’s daughter.”
Anthony nods; he knew the man well, drank with him a few times at his club – dreadfully dull with a fascination for military history. Much like many of the men of his father’s generation.
“Anyway,” (Y/N) continues, “Jayne wanted to go, but needed a chaperone as her mother has taken ill – nothing serious thankfully. I was the next best option so here I am.”
“Here you are,” Anthony parrots, enunciating every syllable as his eyes pour over her figure. “If you weren’t invited, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a governess for Lord and Lady Saville,” She answers proudly; a happy smile on her face as she thinks of her students.
“I hated my governess,” Anthony confesses with a laugh. “I don’t care much for Latin which she knew so she would make me do double the work.”
(Y/N) snorts. “Latin is a very useful language; it’s a good skill to have.”
“I know that now,” Anthony gripes, “I just didn’t know that at ten years old.”
Silence descends between them. Again, not uncomfortable, but a natural stopping point in their conversation. After all, titled gentleman such as the man stood beside her didn’t speak to her occupation outside of a brief conversation about their child’s progress in their education.
(Y/N) places her finished glass of lemonade back on the table before smoothing out the deep blue skirts of her borrowed dress. She clears her throat, ready to make her excuses and check on Jayne when Anthony speaks first.
“Would you care to dance?”
“Pardon?”
“Would you like to dance with me?”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why not?”
“I’m a governess, Lord Bridgerton.”
“Call me Anthony, please.”
“That still doesn’t change the fact that you’re supposed to dance with someone of your own class, Anthony.”
“I don’t want to dance with them. I want to dance with you.”
His argument is straight to the point; no beating around the bush that (Y/N) finds it hard to find fault with it. Instead, she sighs, “One dance.”
“One dance,” Anthony promises, holding out his hand for her to grasp.
She didn’t expect to find herself the centre of the Viscount’s attention, but she cannot bring herself to mind much. Not as he holds out a hand for her to take; not as he leads to her to the dancefloor and not as he settles a palm against her lower back. The feel of his hand feeling so right that she loses the power of speech.
The music begins and (Y/N) travels to a new place entirely. The room melts away; the couples, the families. They all disappear. The only two people in the room are her and Anthony; his blue eyes fixed on her as they start to circle the room in waltz. There’s no need for conversation; all words passed by looks alone.
When the music dies and the room fades back into view, (Y/N) only wonders whether she would feel like this again, whether they would be anyone to make her feel like this again. As Anthony bows and kisses her hand, (Y/N) has her answer.
----------
He doesn’t stop thinking about her. She left soon after they finished dancing; her friend finding her and asking whether she was ready to leave. Anthony wanted to argue; wanted to reach for (Y/N) and pull her back to his embrace where they could dance the night away.
Anthony returned home and went straight to his room. He undressed mechanically; still thinking of her as he slipped between his sheets and tried to fall asleep only to find that sleep was a fickle friend that would not be granting him a visit tonight.
He remains awake; thinking of every aspect of her. He didn’t think he would see her again after the modiste; it was a shock to find her at the ball, but he took the opportunity with both hands to find that he had quickly become infatuated with her.
Could this be called love? Anthony rolls over in bed; tangling himself up in the sheets as he runs a hand up and down his bare chest, thinking the question over and over.
He felt as if he had hit by the arrow of Cupid; as if he had handed himself over voluntarily to be pricked with one of the god’s arrows. He’s never felt like this; no woman had ever kept him awake at night in such a manner.
Groaning, Anthony reaches for the pillow on the other side of the bed, hugging it to his chest. All the while, he dreams it was her body he was pressing close to.
The day after the Ball, Anthony strides from his study to his mother’s drawing room. There, he sits next to his beloved mother, and asks her to gather his siblings for a family meeting.
They arrive one by one. The youngest arriving first; a simple call from the bottom of the stairs has Gregory and Hyacinth rushing to the drawing room, each one adamant that they didn’t do it, but rather their sibling. Anthony shakes his head in exasperation, not wanting to know what they were referring to and instead, asks them to take a seat on the pale blue couch in front of the window.
Over the course of an hour, Anthony’s family arrive. Each one just as curious as the last, each one just as questioning as the last. “Why have you gathered us here, Anthony?” Daphne sighs, her hand resting on Simon’s knee.
“I’ve met someone,” Anthony announces. He frowns at the shocked gasps from Daphne and Eloise; was he really so incapable of finding himself a wife? He ignores the jibes from them both, turning to face his dear mother.
Violet Bridgerton sits in her favourite chair; the one next to it empty as it has been for the last decade. Edmund Bridgerton died so suddenly, and their love was so strong, Anthony knew that there was no recovery from it. “Do we know her?” She asks; her face showing the happiness she feels for her eldest son.
“No,” Anthony sighs, settling down next to his youngest sister, Hyacinth. She offers him a sweet smile as he sits; Anthony cannot help but return the smile and ruffle her hair. When the moment is over, Anthony focuses his attention back onto his family who he finds is watching him intently. “She’s a governess,” He admits, straightening in his seat.
“A respectable profession,” Eloise states with a smile. Anthony feels a rush of affection for his sister; he had always been wary for her outspokenness, but right now, he could thank her heartily.
“What’s the problem, Anthony?” Eloise continues, crossing her ankles, leaning forward in interest.
“I think she may have feelings for me as well, but she’s hesitant to act on them because of our differences.”
“Differences?” Hyacinth questions curiously; unaware of such class differences at such a young age.
“(Y/N) is a governess. I am a Viscount,” Anthony explains, “It would be the subject of gossip for years to come should anything happen between us.”
“So we come up with another story,” Francesca suggests, shrugging her shoulders as if her suggestion was always the answer.
“Another story?” Daphne wonders, eyes glancing between her husband and her family.
“We create a ruse,” Francesca explains to her elder sister. “A story for (Y/N) and Anthony to follow when out in public.”
“Do you think she would go along with this?” Benedict asks; his tone wary as he thinks of the possible implications this could have for his family.
Anthony remains silent, tapping a finger against his cheek as he thinks of whether (Y/N) would follow such a ruse. “Why don’t we ask her? I can send a summons.”
Violet, who had been watching the whole exchange in silence, nods. “Send her a message asking her to come as quick as she can. Tell her it isn’t an emergency, but that you would like to talk to her.”
Anthony nods; rushing from the drawing room to his study to pen such a message. After that, he calls on one of the footmen, handing them the letter and the strict duty of delivering this to (Y/N) personally. The footman nods; his face serious as he takes the letter from his employer’s hand, all but sprinting out of the door.
Anthony returns to the drawing room; taking his seat next to Hyacinth.
“Did you send the missive?” Violet asks. Anthony nods; doing his best to keep his heart from beating right out of his chest. “I sent it with one of the footmen,” He answers, “It shouldn’t be long now.”
His family all nod, breaking off into separate conversations whilst Anthony remains stoic and silent. His leg bounces repeatedly; the only outward sign of his anxiety. Internally, he nerves were fraught. He couldn’t help but wonder whether this was all too much; he knew from their first meeting that Anthony would do anything for her, but if (Y/N) didn’t return such feelings then it was all for nothing.
Worries and thoughts continue to plague him as Anthony catches sight of Daphne leaning into Simon. It’s a small movement, almost imperceptible, but Anthony cannot miss the devoted smile that crosses Simon’s face when he feels his wife press against him.
Longing breaks within Anthony’s chest, spreading through his body, leaving behind an ache that he doesn’t know how to heal.
“Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” introduces the Butler, breaking Anthony’s longing in half.
He stands all too fast, appearing all too eager. Anthony shoots a glare in his brother’s direction when he hears their sniggering.
(Y/N) rushes into the room; her eyes filled with panic when she finds herself in front of the whole Bridgerton clan. “Anthony?” She whispers; her eyes finally meeting his from across the room.
“(Y/N),” He breathes, “Thank you for coming.”
“You told me not to worry, but you sounded so urgent.”
“We wanted to talk to you,” He explains, gesturing to his whole family. “Why don’t you take a seat?”
(Y/N) sits; her mind running a thousand miles a minute as she finds herself being watched by every Bridgerton/Basset in the room. The room is silent; too silent – no-one dares broach the subject first. They don’t want to anger Anthony or ruin his chances with (Y/N).
“Whatever is the matter?” (Y/N) finally asks, breaking the silence.
“We’ve come to understand that you and Anthony have feelings for each other,” Violet states quite plainly.
(Y/N) fidgets, somewhat uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “I guess you could say that,” She offers, smiling smally at the aforementioned man.
“We also know that you’re worried about the differences between Anthony and yourself,” Violet continues to which Eloise huffs, crossing her arms in anger at the state of the class differences within England.
“It’s not so much worried,” (Y/N) explains, “It’s more resigned to the fact.”
Violet nods, understanding where the young governess is coming from. “Francesca,” Violet starts, nodding to the brunette sitting by one of Anthony’s brothers, “Has come up with an idea that we would like to run by you.”
“Oh?”
“It would mean that you and Anthony would be able to begin a courtship.”
(Y/N) feels herself flush; her face heating with how open the Bridgerton family were about their emotions. Their family unit so healthy and happy that everyone felt at ease to talk about whatever was on their minds.
“What did you have in mind?” (Y/N) asks, turning to face Francesca who responds with a large smile.
“We’re going to create a backstory for you. Not something terribly complicated, but something that you and Anthony can follow whilst out in public.”
“Okay…” (Y/N) whispers hesitantly, “What’s the backstory you’ve created?”
Francesca begins to look sheepish. “I haven’t thought of that part yet… I didn’t think Anthony would go for the first part.”
(Y/N) laughs; a light and airy sound that has Anthony straightening in his seat, smiling automatically. “Why don’t we come up with it together?”
“So you’re willing to go along with it?” Anthony asks; his voice unwaveringly hopeful as he refuses to look at anyone but (Y/N).
Something in his face has her nodding. “For as long as you’ll have me,” She answers earnestly, almost breathless when Anthony smiles widely in return.
“This is what I’ve thought of so far,” Colin announces, breaking the moment between Anthony and (Y/N).
The family turn to Colin to find him sat forward on his seat, an eager look across his face as he begins to lay out his plans. Anthony smiles and nods; happy with every word leaving his brother’s mouth.
(Y/N) cannot help but feel an ounce of doubt; not so much at the plan, but for longevity of it. How long would it be before Anthony realised she was not worth it? How long would it before the class difference between them became too much? She dreaded the day but knew it would be upon her before she realised.
----------
The annual picnic in Hyde Park drew in every affable family in London. After all, it was another excuse for mother’s to parade their daughters to the many eligible gentleman. For the gentlemen, it was a free lunch with whichever gazebo they chose to throw themselves upon.
The Bridgertons had been attending this picnic for many years; their station in society meaning that they were personally invited by the monarch. Violet took pride in her set up, making sure her cook’s famous biscuits were on display and that there was plenty of tea to go around. She also ensured that her family had the perfect view of the Serpentine; not too close for her children to fall in, but not too far for it to be out of sight. It was not a sorry affair.
(Y/N) had joined the family happily; talking briefly with Colin and Eloise before Hyacinth monopolised her attention. (Y/N) didn’t mind; she had taught many young girls the same age as Hyacinth and found them all a delight to educate. Hyacinth would be no different.
It wasn’t long, however, before Anthony joined her side. His hand settled comfortably on the small of her back, liking the way that she stepped closer to him, as if wanting to be in his presence all the time.
“Did you have fun the other night?” Anthony questions, thinking back to Daphne’s ball when (Y/N) had smiled at him as he lead her across the dancefloor.
(Y/N) smiles. “I did. I had a lot of fun.”
“How are you feeling about our ruse?” Anthony queries, catching sight of Lady Featherington marching across the many blankets in the direction of the Bridgerton patch.
“Confident,” (Y/N) answers, “Why do you ask?”
Anthony smiles; shifting his position slightly so he can hear every word of the conversation about to happen. He ducks his head, his mouth close to her ear as he answers, “Because it’s about to be put to the test.”
“Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington calls; her gaudy green gown shimmering in the sunlight as she teeters her way to the matriarch of the fine family.
“Lady Featherington,” Violet greets, her voice as polite as ever. “How are you?”
Lady Featherington smiles at Violet; her gaze glancing around the colourful blankets and gazebo set out for the Bridgerton family to remain comfortable as the picnic progresses. Lady Featherington smiles when her eyes find the figure she was looking for. (Y/N) stands to the side, wrapped up in a conversation with Anthony that certainly looks to be a private one.
Lady Featherington nods towards (Y/N); the fascinator attached to her threatening to slip into her eyes. “You have a new addition to your family, Lady Bridgerton,” Lady Featherington states; no infliction of a question but one inferred all the same.
“(Y/N) is a distant friend of the family,” Violet answers breezily, “She hails from a wealthy family just outside of Leeds.”
“Leeds?”
Violet nods. “Yes, Leeds. It’s just over 20 miles outside of York, perhaps you’ve been?”
Lady Featherington smiles tightly at Violet. She smooths down the green panels of her dress. “A handful of times, Lady Bridgerton. After all, my side of the family hails from Manchester. The two aren’t so far removed.”
“Of course,” Violet appeases, “How does your family fare? I’d heard your mother was ill.”
Lady Featherington continues to smile graciously at the Dowager Viscount. Her eyes are brimming with warning and curiosity, but her smile is forced. “Mother is doing much better, she travelled to the coast. The latest journals are saying sea air helps with fragile conditions.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
Lady Featherington nods her thanks to Violet before making her excuses. Violet’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as she watches the notorious gossip walk away from her gazebo. Lady Featherington’s shoulders are tight with displeasure as she marches back to her own plot.
Violet returns to the stitching in her lap after a brief glance towards her youngest children. Gregory and Hyacinth occupied with Benedict and Colin as the older of the set teach their younger siblings games from their youth. Violet smiles at her children; content to return to the pattern at hand, the Dutch Tulips would not stitch themselves.
“What was Lady Featherington talking to you about?” Anthony asks. His face the very picture of innocence as he breaks his mother’s concentration and grabs two biscuits – one for him, the other he hands to (Y/N).
“She was fishing for information on our dear (Y/N),” Violet comments, observing her stitching to ensure it remains straight. “She didn’t find out a thing other than what we discussed.”
(Y/N) lets out a relieved breath. “Thank you, Lady Bridgerton.”
Violet waves away her gratitude with a dismissive hand. “You’re making my son happy; I’ll protect that and you with all that I have.”
(Y/N) flounders for a moment at the quick acceptance by Violet. She smiles at the matriarch; whispering her thanks to Violet, ducking her head as she tries to come to terms with rush of emotions coursing through her body.
Anthony returns his attention to the conversation; his mind no longer focused on way to distract Lady Featherington. He flashes a smile in (Y/N)’s direction; his heart racing when she sends her own smile back.
“(Y/N) and I are going to promenade, mother. You’ll be fine without us?”
Violet snorts. “Yes, dear. I have my seven other children to keep me company.”
Anthony rolls his eyes fondly at his mother. He presses a sweet kiss to her cheek before offering (Y/N) his arm.
They amble along the path; all the while aware of the maid sent by Violet shortly after they departed. Violet trusts (Y/N) implicitly, but she knows the reputation of her eldest son. The poor opera singer being prime evidence of his abilities to break hearts as quickly as he mends them.
“You look beautiful, by the way. In case I haven’t told you,” Anthony flirts, a handsome smile spreading across his face.
“You haven’t, but I’ll take the compliment now.”
Anthony laughs, throwing his head back in delight as they both pause their walk. “You are though,” Anthony murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger down (Y/N)’s cheek, “You’re beautiful.”
(Y/N) averts her gaze; her cheeks flushing from the unexpected compliment. Anthony glances on either side of them, catching sight of the maid only a few feet away, doing her best to nonchalantly follow them. Anthony turns his attention back to the woman in front of him, desperate for a moment alone with her. A wicked grin spreads across his face, “Follow me.”
“What?”
“Follow me,” Anthony repeats, stepping off the path and onto the grass. He gestures to a faint path; one less travelled. “Do you trust me?”
(Y/N) answers by taking his outstretched hand, letting herself be led down the lesser known path.
Their pace slows when they are certain they have lost their chaperone. (Y/N) feels a twinge of guilt as she thinks of the poor maid who was only doing what she was asked by her employer, but then she catches sight of the unbridled glee on Anthony’s face and her guilt is quickly replaced by anticipation.
“Where are we going?” She asks; her voice jostling slightly as she tries to watch Anthony and not trip over any loose twigs or stones.
“Nowhere in particular,” Anthony confesses, “I just wanted you to myself for a little bit.”
His pace slows; they’re a good distance away from the picnic party, they wouldn’t be interrupted by anyone.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Anthony wonders as he comes to a stop. His hands settle on her waist and she has do all that she can to focus on the conversation and not the fact that she can feel the heat of his skin through the fabric of her dress.
“You can tell me anything.”
“I like spending time with you. You make me…” Anthony trails off as he thinks of the word, “Happy. Yes, you make me happy.”
“You make me happy too.”
“If you want me to stop,” Anthony whispers, bending to press a line of kisses from her cheek to the corner of her mouth, “You need to tell me now.”
“Don’t stop,” She whispers, fisting her hands in the lapels of his jacket, tugging him forward.
Anthony kissed her carefully, as if afraid he would ruin her from the very moment their lips touched. What he didn’t realise, however, was that he had ruined her from the instant they met. He might not have realised it, but she knew. She knew that from that one conversation, that one touch to her elbow, she would be ruined for other men.
His mouth is gentle, hesitant. By the way he groans low in his throat, Anthony does not expect (Y/N) to react the way she does. Gasping against his mouth, pressing herself against him as her lips open under his. The kiss becomes hurried; oxygen becoming a distant thought of the past as (Y/N) tastes the lemon biscuits Anthony had stolen from his mother’s table.
Breaking the kiss, the couple each suck in ragged breaths. Shy smiles break out across either of their faces, not having expected such a thing to happen to between them. A short laugh leaves Anthony’s lips as he keeps (Y/N) wrapped up in his embrace. Neither of them feel the need to say a word; happy to let the time pass between them in complete silence.
“We should probably get back,” (Y/N) eventually murmurs against Anthony’s cheek, the slight stubble scratching her skin.
Anthony releases a choked sound. “I don’t want to,” He confesses, “I want to stay here with you.”
(Y/N) pulls back, brushing a gloved hand against Anthony’s cheek. He leans into the touch; finding himself enraptured by the woman in front of him. “I want to stay with you too,” She whispers, “But your family will be looking for us.”
Anthony sighs, breaking the embrace entirely. He holds her hand; tangling their fingers together. If he could, he wouldn’t let go of her at all. He would keep her with him at all times; he likes to be in her presence, doesn’t want to be without it. However, society and duty calls, and he must return. However, he would be damned if he was to let go of her hand before then.
“Alright,” He concedes, beginning the walk back to the picnic.
The walk is quiet, but comfortable. Their hands remained tangled even as they arrive back to the Bridgertons. His brother’s throw Anthony a knowing glance which Anthony ignores. He knows his mother will have a strict word with him later, but he has more pressing matters on his mind – his future and the woman now sitting with his youngest siblings.
He’s found his forever; he just needs to keep it.
-----
“Miss (Y/L/N),” the Butler begins, interrupting the governess as she marks her student’s latest set of handwriting, “A Viscount Bridgerton to see you?”
“Oh!” She gasps, standing from her seat far too quickly. The inkpot on her desk spills, sapphire blue ink spreading across the multitude of papers thrown about her desk. As she watches the puddle grow, she begins to feel a deep sense of dread spread through her being.
“Shall I show him in?” The Butler asks, also watching the ink stain spread.
“Have you already made Lord and Lady Saville aware of his presence?”
“Yes, miss. They’re the ones who told me to fetch him to you.”
“Then yes, show him in please,” (Y/N) answers, staring forlornly at the ruined paper and wasted ink. The Butler makes a sympathetic noise before opening the door further for Anthony to enter.
“Darling,” Anthony greets. He goes to speak further but spies the growing blue stain. “What happened here?”
“I stood up too quickly,” (Y/N) complains. “It’s gone everywhere, and I can’t afford another bottle right now.”
“That’s no problem. I’ll get you a bottle.”
(Y/N) fixes the man with an unimpressed look. “No you won’t. I don’t want you buying things for me.”
“It won’t be bought. I have a stock of ink back at Bridgerton House due to the amount of correspondence I have. You can have a couple of pots; I will not miss it.”
“Oh… well, thank you.”
“My pleasure,” Anthony smiles. “Now that’s sorted, I came here to ask you a question.”
“You have?”
“I have. Would you attend the Shakespearean ball? With me?” His voice has a note of vulnerability in it as he voices his question.
“What?” She asks, “As in arrive with you, on your arm?”
“Yes,” Anthony states slowly, “You would come with me and my family.”
She begins to pace the room; her hands wringing together as she tries to calm the pounding of her heart and mind. “Are you sure this is the path you want to go down?” She asks Anthony; her voice begging for a truthful answer.
“What do you mean?”
“This is getting very serious very fast, Anthony. This plan isn’t going to work forever; the ton will find out that I’m a governess and the ruse will be over. This could ruin your entire family, Anthony.”
“Hey,” Anthony hushes, interrupting her pacing. He reaches for her hand with one hand whilst the other cups her cheek. She automatically leans into the touch, sending a thrill through Anthony’s aching soul. “Nothing’s going to happen,” He reassures with a gentle tone, “Should anything happen, we can do damage control.”
“I don’t want to be the ruin of your family, Anthony,” (Y/N) whispers, her eyes lined with unshed tears. She could never forgive herself if the Bridgertons were socially injured by her lack of money relating to her lack of status. (Y/N) could not help the hand of cards she was dealt at birth, but society dictates her station, and hers was so far below Anthony’s it was any wonder that he noticed her in the first place. It was a dream to be accepted by his family; she didn’t want to be the cause of their ruination.
“You aren’t going to be the ruin of my family,” Anthony assures, brushing under her eyes with his thumbs to wipe away the tears that have fallen. “You’re going to be the making of it. I want you in my life, (Y/N). I want to see where this goes.”
“You do?”
“I do. I haven’t felt like this for a long time, I want to see where this feeling takes me.”
“Okay,” She concedes, doing her best to stop the tears falling, “I’ll go to the ball with you.”
“You will?”
“I will.”
The smile that spreads across Anthony’s face makes it all worth it. He presses a kiss to her forehead, then another to her nose, to her cheek before finally kissing her in earnest. She hums against his mouth; getting lost in the feel of him.
“It’ll be worth it,” Anthony whispers. “All of this is worth it.”
“You’re worth it,” (Y/N) states quietly, pulling him back in for another kiss.
----
Lady Danbury was one of two women in London that could throw a memorable ball. The other being Violet Bridgerton. For her theme this year, Lady Danbury had chosen the works of the Elizabethan bard, William Shakespeare. For what could be more romantic than dressing as characters immortalised in his plays and sonnets?
Anthony would not tell (Y/N) one whisper of his costume; kept it a secret from her despite her barrage of questions. As revenge, she kept quiet about her costume, refusing to tell the man the colour of her dress.
The two walk into the ballroom with (Y/N)’s hand resting on Anthony’s forearm; her nerves rattle as she walks further into the room. She knew she had no reason to be nervous; Anthony and his family would protect her from whatever form of gossip falls her way, but she could not help the turning of her stomach as she walked passed many disappointed mothers who had hoped Anthony would pay their daughters the slightest bit of attention.
The music is loud; the laughter lightening the atmosphere and the dancers in full swing as (Y/N) begins to feel comfortable. Having taught many a child Shakespeare, (Y/N) spent a lot of time trying to decipher the characters in attendance tonight. She had already seen three Violas, four Benedicks, and six Olivias.
“I have to go talk to someone,” Anthony says apologetically, interrupting her guessing game, “I won’t be long. Will you be okay without me?”
(Y/N) nods. “Go. I’m sure I’ll find someone to talk to.”
Anthony presses a lingering kiss to her cheek, whispering as he does so, “A marvel amongst women.”
“You’re nothing but a flirt,” She laughs, batting the love of her life away. “Go talk business.”
“As you wish,” Anthony laughs, mock-bowing before leaving (Y/N) to wander the ball alone. Moments pass before she finds someone she recognises. “Colin,” She greets happily, “Who have you come as?”
“Romeo Montague,” Colin answers, stretching his arms wide to show off his rather fetching garb.
“How wonderful,” She laughs, watching the Bridgerton strike a pose in his costume.
“Who knows,” Colin teases, “Maybe tonight I’ll find my Juliet.”
(Y/N) laughs once more, batting the man away when he wiggles his eyebrows at her in a suggestive manner. “Off with you,” She snorts, “I’m sure there are plenty of ladies for you to dance with.”
Colin departs with a bow of his head. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at the antics of the younger man; Colin knew full well of the line of ladies waiting for his signature of their dance cards, but something warms in (Y/N)’s chest when she watches Colin walk straight to Penelope Featherington.
“They’d make a fine pair if he would pull his head out,” A voice full of humour sounds from behind her.
(Y/N) startles. She turns to find Anthony watching her; his lips curled in a manner that suggested he was holding back the laughter he so desperately wanted to let out.
“You made me jump,” She hisses, batting his outstretched hand away.
“I’m sorry, my love,” Anthony coos, pulling (Y/N) into his embrace by pulling on one of the many skirts about her waist. (Y/N) flushes at the term of endearment, but also at the many pairs of eyes now watching the young couple.
“You’re forgiven,” She sighs. “Who have you dressed as?” She asks, changing the subject.
“Ferdinand,” Anthony answers, “From The Tempest.”
“How odd,” (Y/N) muses, “I’ve dressed as Miranda from The Tempest.”
“‘Admired Miranda!/ Indeed the top of admiration, worth/ What’s dearest to the world!’”
“Only you could quote Shakespeare from the heart,” (Y/N) states wryly.
Anthony preens, puffing out his chest slightly. “All the Bridgertons can. We would do dramatizations of the plays.”
“Of course,” (Y/N) laughs, picturing Anthony as a young boy, dressed in breeches with a make-do ruff around his neck. The very image brings a fond smile to her face.
“What are you smiling about?” Anthony questions, wanting to be privy to the thoughts running through her mind.
“You,” She flirts, hooking her arm through Anthony’s as they start to take a turn about the room.
“That’s what I like to hear,” Anthony states pompously though his heart races at her words.
Her laughter chimes as Anthony steers (Y/N) around the room, pausing only to grab two glasses of lemonade from the drinks table. She sips at it delicately, not risking a spill of a single drop on her outfit.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Anthony murmurs into her ear. “Truly. I would have been lost without you.”
“You always know what to say, don’t you?” (Y/N) teases, enjoying the blush that begins to paint Anthony’s cheeks. She briefly touches a gloved hand to his cheek, smiling fondly at the brunette. “I’m glad I came too.”
Anthony clears his throat; clearing his throat of the emotion clogging it up. He takes her drink from her, placing it on a nearby table. As ever the gentleman he was raised to be, Anthony bows towards the women he vows is the love of his life and offers his hand. “Would you care to dance?”
“Always,” She answers with a breathtaking smile, taking his hand to be led onto the dancefloor for the start of the new song. Couples on the floor take up the position of the quadrille as upbeat music sounds through the hall.
It’s hard not to smile as Anthony takes her hand to begin the first steps of the lead couple. The first dance figure is performed before copied by the other couples in their square.
Anthony keeps a tight hold on her as he begins the next set of dance figures; spinning (Y/N) out before drawing her back in. Laughter falls from her mouth, setting his heart alight with the love he feels for her.
She catches the eye of Lady Featherington through one of many of Anthony’s spins. The Lady smiles knowingly, raising her glass to the young woman spinning in the arms of the Viscount.
(Y/N)’s breath freezes in her chest; she makes a choked sound and her steps falter. Luckily, no-one but Anthony seems to notice, but he recovers his hold on (Y/N) fairly quickly. It’s the end of the song; couples slowing on the floor, the audience beginning to clap their approvals.
“Darling?” Anthony calls quietly, breaking her out of her reverie. His hand remains in her hold; refusing to let him take even a step without her.
“Take me somewhere we can be alone,” She pleads, suddenly overcome by the sheer amount of people milling about the hall.
Anthony doesn’t need to be told twice, leading (Y/N) away from the dancefloor with a guiding hand on the small of her back. Anthony catches Benedict’s eye as he leaves the hall; his brother offers him a single nod to which Anthony relaxes – Benedict would make sure no-one would follow or interrupt, there was something important Anthony had to do.
The night air is cold against her heated skin as she inhales hurried breaths. The stone of the railing is cool under her fingers as she grips the stone tight; needing something to tether her to this place. It feels like a dream; a total dream that she would find herself costumed as a character from a Shakespeare play brushing elbows with some of the most powerful people in the country.
At this time of night, the gardens are dark, but she can still make out their heavenly fragrance perfuming the air, providing the perfect backdrop for this night.
“Are you alright?” Anthony asks, removing his jacket and settling it over her shoulders.
(Y/N) pulls his jacket tighter around her; inhaling the comforting scent of musk and sweet orange washing over her. “I’m fine now, it got to be a bit too much in there.”
“That’s an understatement,” Anthony murmurs, “I saw Lady Featherington.”
(Y/N) cringes internally. Her face is a mask of polite interest as she murmurs, “Oh? You saw that did you?”
“She only acts as if she knows everything, darling,” Anthony reassures, settling his hands on (Y/N)’s waist, desperate to be touching her.
“I know,” She murmurs, but his words do nothing to settle the panic tying her chest into knots.
“We’re fine,” Anthony promises; hands rubbing up and down the sides of her bodice. “It’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” She repeats, sighing heavily, leaning back into his embrace. His chest is strong against her back, but she doesn’t get long to admire his strength. He turns her in his arms, peering down at the expression on her face.
“You’re who I love. I couldn’t give a damn what the rest of London society thinks.”
“I love you as well,” She answers, a small smile on her face, letting his words wash away any and all of her worries. “You do have a way with words.”
“Flatterer,” He teases, dipping his head to kiss her.
(Y/N) gasps at the first press of Anthony’s lips against hers. She had kissed him before; a hurried meeting of mouths before their chaperone caught up to them. This kiss differed from that; languid, unhurried. Anthony took his time to memorise the feel of her lips against his; the small whimpers sounding at the back of her throat.
Each brush of his lips against hers spoke of what he found it hard to put into words. He had never been a wordsmith; could never write poetry or recite the romances of the past, but with every butterfly kiss placed on her lips in time to the shuddering of her heartbeat could Anthony translate the sheer scale of what he feels for her.
She reaches up to cup the back of his neck, fingers carding through the dark brown locks. Anthony’s grip on her waist remains firm as he presses her further into the railing. The gentleness of Anthony’s kiss soon turns to a burning passion as his hands splay across the small of (Y/N)’s back, pressing her to him.
As Anthony’s kisses begin to travel the expanse of her jawline, (Y/N) is suddenly grateful for the railing behind her. If he was to let her go now, not only would she feel the keen absence of his touch, but she would surely sink to the floor. The feel of his mouth, pressed hot against her, has her knees feeling unsteady.
“(Y/N),” Anthony whispers, nuzzling the side of her neck, “(Y/N)…”
“You keep whispering my name,” She murmurs into the night air; her ragged breath leaving behind white plumes.
“Marry me,” Anthony all but pleads, pulling back from (Y/N)’s neck to gaze into her eyes. “Marry me and always be mine.”
It seemed that time had stopped and lost all of its meaning; there was no party, no gardens, no laughter of lifelong friends. No. In this moment there was only Anthony.
“Yes,” She whispers, laughter beginning to fall from her mouth as fresh as a morning rainfall. Once it starts, she cannot find it in herself to stop. Tears soon join the laughter as a smile breaks across Anthony’s handsome face. “Yes,” She repeats, “I will marry you.”
********
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Procrastinating 16042023
Currently, on my desk I have:
3 jars of pens, 3 cans of pens (ones an olive can), a finished Milkis can (been on my desk since sometime last year - constantly craving Milkis but it's not available in any local stores), 3 boxes of Instax photos (working on labelling them all), my pencil case (zipper open), a plate with an unfinished orange and a fork (forgot about the orange and had potato waffles), a thick stack of history flashcards, a second much thinner stack of history flashcards (working on them), various other flashcards scattered around (all history probably), an empty mug, a shallow bowl (empty) and flower-patterned chopsticks, a black ball-point pen refill, an uncapped orange Bic pen, two A5 postcards of Cezanne (he's staring into my soul), a cactus-shaped fan, black nail polish, a box containing a jar of black ink, a fountain pen, a cable (dunno what its for), a bag of cables I never use, a bluetooth speaker (playing Floating Dream - Kumi Tanioka), a history revision booklet from my teacher (this flashcard checklist is so long hhhhhhh), two pencil sharpeners (a pig and a chicken), giraffe scissors, a 5p coin, a small tea tin, a plastic pink penguin, a mini brush, a 20p coin, a broken compass, two plastic candles I got from school (electric, one doesn't work), an empty mini photo album, 4 photo cards in top loaders, a yellow origami crane, my planner (open to my easter homework), my diary, last years diary, a plastic case of 3DS games, Catcher in the Rye in bubble wrap, a shoe box of miscellaneous things, a black and white Instax cartridge, a red lanyard, a glue stick (probably empty), an unopened plastic pot of honey, a zip-loc bag with a copy of my teeth (3D printed, from the orthodontist), a new 2DS XL (green ver), a green and purple octopus keychain (those ones you can flip inside-out), dust, a very large lego technic set (covered in cardboard to keep dust off), a calculator, 4 mini plastic toy planes that I couldn't fit on my shelf, two empty Kidrobot figurine boxes, a CD player (still in box - haven't used it yet, I have no money to buy new albums), my credit card (balance: 48p), a hairband (why do I have this? My hair is too short to tie up), an empty plastic folder (hiding beneath my diary and planner and CD player and Catcher in the Rye and 3DS game box, a second big pencil case of unused pens, a tall stack of Pokemon cards, a box of stickers and tapes, Beats, my phone (it's got a huge crack and a hole in the corner, but it still works), a small cardboard car (made out of sheer boredom by a friend in FPAN) (the car was for the pink plastic penguin) (it's falling apart), my keys, a Hu Tao keychain, a penguin keychain, my zip card (nearly expired), a clamp clip (dunno how they're called), and double sided tape. Also my computer, keyboard, and mouse.
On my computer I have Teams, Spotify (working on a long playlist, 11 hours so far), and Safari open. I have two Mangadex tabs open (was reading the Arknights Ifrit manga - sad), a Tumblr tab (trying Tumblr because Twitters word count is depressingly low - not that I ever post anything), a Pinterest tab, Instagram, Twitter, a Notion tab (the app stopped working for some reason), Youtube, and two google tabs (Alfonse Maria Mucha) (Indian independence 1947).
okendofprocrastination
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Yo this is the person who asked about Monster Dia and Barb, I just want a monster that suits them best.
Alright, I’ve got Barbatos as a Naga and Diavolo as a Dragon
Obey Me Headcanons (Monster Edition) 🐲Diavolo🐲 and 🐍Barbatos🐍 as Yanderes GN - Reader SFW
Diavolo
Appearance
Diavolo is a proud dragon. He stands much taller than most in the Devildom. His large human figure stands at ten feet tall.
His skin is covered in dark maroon and gold scales, most of them centered around his face, chest, and legs. His legs resemble a dragon’s more than a human’s with three wide toes and long black talons.
He has a long prehensile tail as well tipped with a tuff of black fur and lined with large black plates sticking up dangerously.
His horns and teeth are long and fearsome, his fangs always manage to hang out of his mouth and his smile can be just as lovely as they are terrifying. His horns are always adored with gold accessories, usually in the shape of: golden skulls, torn wings, and blood red rubies.
In his True Form he stands taller then any building in the Devildom and with a wingspan capable of casting a whole city in darkness.
Diavolo’s build is much bulkier in this form, mostly seen around the jaw, and wings. His wings contain rougher and sharper scales and contain some of the black plates his tail has.
His Hoard and His Breath
Diavolo’s bed chamber also doubles as the Royal Treasury. Since his draconic nature craves hoarding wealth he has a need to sleep amongst the treasure.
Every morning he spends his first hour of awakening, sitting amongst the hoard, fiddling with gems and Grimm in his clawed hands, immersing himself in the candle lit room of wealth. Afterwards, he gets up to drink tea with breakfast while reading the R.A.D Newspaper.
He gets anxious and grumpy if he can’t be near his hoard for too long. Barbatos has to help make time in Diavolo’s schedule for Hoard Breaks.
Whenever he pleases, he’s able to breath massive plumes of black hot fire and streams of red lighting. Everything in its wide path is reduced to ash. It gets wider the angrier he gets, and it’s believed that if he truly was ever to get enraged, he could destroy the entire Devildom.
Spending Time with You
Diavolo is captivated with you to the point of obsession, needing you by his side at all times, though knows you need some freedom. Despite his instinctual anxiety of you having autonomy, he knows he could easily dispose of anything should it ever threaten his position with you. Anyone who makes you doubt him, or try to lure you to their side, he would make sure there is no trace of them left.
You are often given gifts, his form of courting you even if you’ve already tied the knot. Gifting you outfits and jewelry made from the finest gold and purest gems. He does this because he now considers you the center of his hoard, the paragon of his wealth, treasure and triumph. He wants to coat you in beautiful fine things.
He enjoys you touching the scaly parts of his body. It feels nice to have your soft warm skin on his cool scales. If you're not against it he’d enjoy you grooming him, it's relaxing.
He loves to have paintings of you made in different beautiful outfits in graceful poses amongst fantastical locations. He likes to sit with you as you pose for the artist and just talk. He adores this special time with you.
You’re the one in existence that has the right to join him in his hoard, and he thoroughly enjoys the time he spends with you in his hoard, which feels more complete with you amongst the jewels. If he had it his way, he would forget about everything except you and his treasures.
His Dark Tendencies
He has such a deep infatuation with you that he would do anything to have you. Though he doesn’t want to force the feeling onto you, instead he does it in secret, keeping up the perfect prince image for you as much as possible.
If he sees someone he deems a threat, he’d make sure they’re taken quietly and dealt with far away from you so there's no possibility you could ever see it.
Sometimes if they’ve made him angry, he’ll take the perpetrator to a private hunting ground so he can hunt them down and eat them himself, making sure not even the bones are left.
He had a wing built onto the castle just to house the thousand portraits he had made. He’s slowly overtime made it into a museum dedicated in all of your splendor. Glass encased objects of random things you had given to him, ranging from birthday presents to random cans of vending machine black tea.
He has stolen a few of your clothes, a uniform jacket or tie. He likes to fall asleep with your scent in his nose.
Diavolo doesn’t punish you at all, you can do no wrong in his eyes, only others can mislead you. He wants you yourself to fall in love with him, you have to learn by yourself how much of a perfect match you are.
Misc. Stuff
Despite being a Dragon with such fierce fire, Diavolo loves to fish in a sized down version of true form.
When he gets too excited his tail wags like a dog’s. He’s been known to have knocked over a few things with his tail when you or Lucifer came to a party or ball of his.
His eyes turn reptilian like in his humanoid form when he gets upset, or when he wakes up in the morning and is processing everything. It takes him a few moments of just staring at the ceiling to figure out he’s awake.
He has given the brothers a ride on his back as a dragon a few times, but sometimes he had flown a bit too fast making them fly off.
Barbatos
Appearance
His body is long and slender, reaching forty feet long. His scales are flat and smooth, black with a teal iridescence to them. If you look at them closely you can see a triangular pattern on his back in different shades of gray and black.
His tail however splits at the end perfectly in two symmetrical pieces.
His tongue is forked and long but he hides it well, however he does have teal coloration on the tip. Barbatos also has a few scale patches on his cheeks and just along his spine to his back hairline.
Barbatos has long perfectly trimmed claws that are sharp as a razor and grown out just far enough to start curving.
Being Cold Blood
Barbatos has to deal with the annoyance of being cold blooded, if he doesn’t heat himself in a nice warm place often enough he becomes lethargic; however no one has ever seen him resting let alone warming himself, people wonder how he always manages to be ten steps ahead of everyone while being cold blooded.
His secret is Diavolo, as he exudes a warm presence simply being near him provides enough heat to keep active for an entire day; and a pot of warm herbal tea to help jump-start his day.
He’s a type of Naga to use constriction against his prey, he has fangs but no actual venom. When he gets angry at the Little Ds you can find him constricting them and giving them a cold smile while scolding them.
Spending time with You
Barbatos just finds you so captivating and pure, he wants you in his arms. He wants to protect something so soft and warm, compared to him.
He loves to wrap his tail around you, around your waist, around your shoulders, he likes it even better if he can wrap it arounds your body completely just feeling the warmth of you on his skin.
He has a habit of spoiling you by bringing you everything you ask for. He always has breakfast in bed for you, he likes to bring you your clothes and always gets the chair or door for you.
He enjoys spending time in the garden with you, sharing a cup of tea and light pastries. Light rainy days are always his favorite just the sight of you in the green glow of the garden, the plump droplets catching the starlight above.
He likes to see you relaxed and happy, it makes his heart feel light and makes him proud to see how content you are. Sometimes he likes to lay with you and place fresh flowers around you and just admire you. He just loves looking at you.
His Dark Tendencies
He gets jealous fairly easily but he tries to not let it show in front of you. Just you smiling in front of someone else is enough to make his scales rise in anger.
He makes sure to find them and threaten them to stay away from you and says it while constricting them so much that they begin turning blue. All of his bottled up anger from everything that has happened, even events that don’t involve the victim, are being let out on them. Harshly and slowly.
He’ll very rarely punish you, if you go out of your way to escape from him he’ll make sure to chain you up and make you beg for him to take care of you, if you don’t you’ll be left alone without food or water.
He has a slightly sadistic want to make you cry. It looks so cute and beautiful to him, like the rain from the garden is dripping from your lovely eyes.
Misc Stuff
Most Nagas aren’t afraid to hunt pests, meat is meat, but Barbatos has a delicate palate and the thought of eating rats makes him ill. He also has a sensitive stomach so he can’t eat too much or anything too hot.
He loves to relax in hot baths but he never has time anymore helping with Diavolo and the Seven Demon Lords.
He likes to wake up early in the morning, put on an apron and start making pastries fresh that morning. Every morning is something new and always delicious.
I take NSFW and SFW check out my pinned post for my rules on requests Take Care - Stay Spooky
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A river of blood: A snippet of the second (As well as the last) chapter
Though the time was the deadest hour of the night when almost all the living beings in this world drifted into the universe of a peaceful siesta excluding the bats travelling across the ebony vacuum and the round-eyed owls sitting on the twigs of the dense trees and surveilling the movements of rats amidst the crops, the moon princess decided to give it some life. That’s why, her luminosity was seeping through the diamond-shaped loopholes of the dance hall, accompanied by the gust of nightly zephyr which pushed the transparent, baby-blue georgette curtains a little, making a way for reawakened heartbeats of the midnight. Inside, only a pair of scented candles were lit, at two different corners of the chamber, set on long, metal candle-stands.
No, not two. Another was also there, in the form of a beautiful young lady. Moonlight descended on her bronze skin and unbound wavy tresses; thick, waist-length, deep violet in color and bedecked with a wreath made of green leaflets and blue cornflowers. A sleeveless, halter-neck gown, having aquamarine chintz-pattern on dark-blue background, was embracing her slim figurine, with a floral turquoise belt encircling her slender waist. A pair of long, teardrop oxidized earrings, studded with two blue beryl-stones, were swaying from her earlobes. Wrists were bound in silver cuffs where twin aquamarines were flashing. At last, but not at least, bell anklets were tied around her lean and smooth ankles, hidden underneath her skirt. Her legs were parted in half a right angle, so were her arms in 180-degree.
Pleasant tunes come to my lips, to be sung,
But my heart makes excuses which are different,
Your memories haunt me, pester me,
Now, my heart regrets, it regrets���
There was no music, no tune, no beat. Yet, when she moved her right leg behind the left, the dead silence in the room got shattered just like a crystal mirror with a clink of her anklets. Her hands twisted from their former positions and formed a lotus near to the middle of her chest. On both of her ankles, she twirled and opened her eyes slowly, revealing the candid exquisiteness of her circular, turquoise orbs, guarded by thick, dark violet lashes under her arc-shaped eyebrows. Though she was enjoying her dance, surprisingly, there was no smile in her lips at that time. Bending her knees, a tad, keeping her both feet opposite to each other, she switched her position into a mini-squat. Then again, a rotation occurred, like the earth around her own axis.
My beloved,
I touch your feet,
Please, don’t go, don’t leave me,
My beloved,
How do I coax you?
Love pricks this heart so badly…
“Smack!”
The large, double-portioned, ligneous door of the dance hall got opened unexpectedly since her anklets stopped, so did her movements while her back was facing the entrance. The breeze roaming inside decided to change its direction and the magnitude of the speed, detecting the presence of a second person in the compartment. Nonetheless, the purplette didn’t bother to turn back and have a glimpse of the comer. Smiling faintly, she went to one of the candle-stands. Picking up a crystal lantern from the ground, she lit it up and approached the navy-haired guy gently, enlightening the room a bit more. Her heart was still pounding hard, blobs of perspiration were sticking to her temple and cheeks. Teal orbs captured his image on them, on the cramming globules of waterworks.
“Dancing at such a moment?” Takao cocked an eyebrow, “Of course, it suits none but you, Dew-chan. You surely know how to turn a night into daylight.”
“But without you,” The dancer asserted, “Even the daylight seems darker than the black, Takao-kun.”
“I’m extremely sorry, Dew,” The blunette sounded a little sheepish, “You know how busy I remain all the day. I can barely manage time even for myself. You must be very annoyed with me, right?”
“Annoyed? With you?” The purplette snickered, placing the lantern on a nearby table, “How can I be annoyed with that person who is the only source of happiness in the life of this mere court-performer? I was just…missing you.”
“I missed you too, my purple rose.” Takao laid a palm on her left cheek, with an attempt to dive into her orbs which apparently had no depth.
“Duh, liar!” Grimacing, she turned her face away and brought a pair of low, lightweight wooden stools. Placing them on the floor, she sat on one of it and gestured her beloved to have a sit. Once he occupied it, she asked, “So tell me, how are your days going in the camp?”
“Not so fine,” The navy-haired guy sighed and shrugged, “The Russians can launch a raid on us within the next two or three days. That’s why, we will charge on them tomorrow night. Before a while, I had to prepare a complete battalion and attend two training sessions.”
“Takao-kun, don’t worry,” Dew placed a hand on his shoulder, “I have full belief on you, your gallantry as well as all the valiant warriors of Japan who will be fighting with you, remaining by your side always. Together, you will make Japan victorious. I will pray for you so that this battle becomes successful.”
“Thank you so much, Dew-chan,” Takao beamed as his restless heart calmed down, hearing her once, “I really needed it a lot.”
“So…” The purplette took a few moments to utter her next words to him, “Is it all for which you came to meet me?”
“Hmm…” The blunette couldn’t answer to this question of her directly. His gazes were lowered, lips were folded inside. How would he tell her that he came only to view her in front of his eyes, maybe…for one last time? Warriors didn’t have the guarantee to live a long life, both he and she were well-aware of this fact. An awkward silence fell in the chamber, encircling them from all the four directions. The gale also stopped humming, realizing the intensity of the situation. Did the rays of the moon refrain themselves from peering into the room? Did the curtains cease dancing?
“It’s okay…” After a pregnant pause, it was the purplette who broke the bizarre tranquility, “I can understand, Takao-kun. You can barely get time to rest. Even in this situation, you have come to meet me. Thank you so much.”
“Thanks for feeling me too, Dew-chan,” The warrior somehow managed to give a smile, “Don’t worry. Teaching those Russians a perfect lesson, obtaining victory, I will return to you soon.”
“Wait..” The purplette tucked out an azure thread from her waistbelt, speckled with a sapphire at its center. It gleamed when the blazes of the candles and the quartz lantern boogied in front of it.
“What’s it, Dew-chan?” Takao was curious.
“Today morning, I had a small visit at the shrine of lord Bishamonten. Praying to him for you, I brought this sacred bracelet,” Taking one of the wrists of the combatant, the danseuse tied the string around it, “Takao-kun, to be frank, I trust your Katana more than these rituals. Besides, I don’t know whether the prayers and wishes of a court-performer are heard by the holy deities or not. But those who are loyal to their kingdoms, determined to save their territories and can fight till the death to attain victory, lord Bishamonten never turns his face away from them. It will protect you in the battlefield.”
“Hey…” The Samurai squeezed her shoulders gently, “Don’t belittle yourself, my purple rose. It is the fault of those lustful and dirty eyes which try to eat you when you dance. In my eyes, you have always portrayed the purest form of arts and you are one of the holiest souls in our kingdom. I promise, I’ll tie the knots with you once this war is over. Then, not a single pair of eyes will be able to throw those dirty and suggestive glares at you.”
“Takao-kun…” Holding his hand between her palms, she rested her forehead there and sobbed.
“No, Dew-chan, it’s not the time to shed tears,” Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he stood up along with her. Wiping her cheeks, he emptied his lungs once, “They will only block my path. Bid me a temporary farewell, my love. Pray and wait for me. Very soon, we will be reunited. Then, even this river of blood won’t be able to flow between us.”
“I’ll keep my eyes upon the way till your comeback, Takao-kun,” Dew tearfully leered, “Be victorious!”
Placing a mellowing peck on her temple, the blunette turned back and crossed the boundary of the dance-hall with very quick, yet, heavy footsteps. Riding his stallion, he pulled its rein as it neighed, thudding the ground with his front hooves galloping on, creating a mini sandstorm behind which blinded the turquoise orbs of the purplette. Once it was clear, there was no one. Biting her lips, Dew-chan rushed inside. Her anklets chimed and resonated all over the room but couldn’t surpass the tempo of the beats of her heart. She looked at the pair of the stools, one of which had been occupied by him even before a few moments. Her Takao-kun.
No one knows the pain of my heart
Only my heart, knows
And also, this hateful world doesn’t know…
The clouds don’t come to rain the water
So that bees and flowers get faded in the orchard…
The breeze, for the last time in that night, paid a visit to the compartment as the curtains pulsated periodically once. Before the departure, it didn’t forget to smother both the candles and the lantern, leaving the place completely plunged into darkness. The thick clouds in the sky surrounded the silver moon and captured her into their dungeon. As a result, the moonlight also couldn’t peep inside anymore. There was no light, no sound, no warmth anymore. The anklets also rang for one final time, done with those hours as she kowtowed on the ground and buried her face amidst her palms. Then, the only sounds remained in the chamber belonged to her tears and heart-wrenching sighs, reverberating from walls to walls.
After fighting, I only remorse,
But can't find a way to convince my lover,
To whom did I will share my secrets of my hearts?
And tell my anguish?
My lord, don’t leave my wrist,
I beg to you, please don’t forget me…
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I thought to complete “A river of blood” ASAP, that’s why, started writing its last chapter. How is it looking? Would Takao remain safe and be able to meet his Dew-chan again?
The link of the first chapter: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14012221/1/A-river-of-blood
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broke witch tips, from someone who was once that 17 year old blossoming witch hiding from their parents & couldn't afford fancy ritual tools:
1. need specific colored candles? tea lights are 24 for 1$ at the Dollar Tree and a pack of rainbow sharpies is also 1$, just scribble on the outside of them or draw sigils in the color you need.
2. a slender dry twig off of a pine tree makes a nice incense stick. plus mosquitoes hate it and it smells like camping.
3. always save your melted candle wax to make candles for future rituals. this is just common sense
4. can't afford all these dig dang crystals? most of them are unethically sourced anyway, use those shiny smooth fish tank rocks or smooth broken glass you find outside (pls be careful). you could also make them out of clay. they can mean what you decide they mean because you decided it
5. my first athame was a neat twisted branch i whittled into a double edged blade with a semi-dull potato peeler and it took 0 skill or patience (thank god). then I got grounded asf for murdering the potato peeler.
6. using white sage to cleanse is *usually* appropriative, plus it faces endangerment risk! but I guarantee your parent/guardian/grandma has some dried rosemary in the spice cabinet that's been there since you were born.
7. essential oils aren't for everyone, they can cause allergic reactions and they're fucking expensive. depending on what you're using them for, you might be able to substitute with holy water, which most catholic churches will give you for free if you can enter without spontaneously combusting
8. most of my incense burners over the years have been shells ive found at the beach, but I live on the east coast. if you don't live near a beach, this isnt very helpful and I'm sorry. anyway you can also use it as a mortar and pestle.
9. are you one of those witches with your shit together who actually changes your altar cloth every sabbat? are you tired of how fucking expensive they are? Walmart has fabric swatches for 97 cents that are a little bigger than a bandanna, with all their sewing stuff. many many colors and patterns. I feel morally obligated to tell you to steal it anyway because fuck Walmart be gay do crime etc
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Prompt: Double date, baby! Targets: Freenoodleshipping and SilkTea.
Location: town, your choice or boat, after – or not – end of season 2; Time: night, clear sky with a full moon, as romantic as possible with round table, whine and charming candles.
Mo dressed as a cute waiter?
Sandy and Huntsman are that lovely couple enjoying talking and eating together, spaghetti, noodles and, of course, that classic scene from Lady and the Tramp with Miko, Wukong and MK playing romantic music (like violin, piano, whatever) on background.
Pigsy and Tang: A complete disaster, for Huntsman's sadistic entertainment.
Go!
“Please, you probably don’t even know what a romantic date is.”
The words cut through the kitchen. All heads turned to Pigsy, appearing to be focused o his wok. However, the smug smile on his face said it all.
Huntsman wasn’t sure how the subject had come up. Goliath had called DBK’s calf and the dragon girl boyfriend and girlfriend again, only to be gently explained by the latter that they were both not dating, but also gay. A few apologies later and they had ended up talking about dating stories. And then, somehow, the idea of him and Sandy going on a romantic date had come up.
And now…
Red and Xiaojiao took steps back. Goliath carefully moved behind his chair, as if prepared to grab him. Huntsman, however, was focused on the pig. “You trying to say something about me?”
Pigsy clicked off the stove, finished with whatever he was cooking, and wiped his hands off. When he turned, the smug smile was still there as he leaned against the counter. “I’m just saying, you don’t exactly seem like the type to want to go on a romantic date.”
“Oh, and you are?”
Syntax stepped inside the kitchen, followed by him promptly turning and walking out.
“Heh, romantic enough to get Tang to agree to marry me.” This was probably just him being protective, but it was striking a nerve.
“I bet we’re better at being romantic than you are!” At least, Sandy probably was.
“Oh yeah? Prove it!”
Huntsman rose to his feet and Goliath clamped hands down on his shoulder. That was followed by Xiaojiao squealing eagerly. “Ooh, romantic date competition! Let us set it up! Please, please, please…”
Pigsy chuckled. “Sure, Xiaojiao. Go ahead.” He turned his gaze back to Huntsman before he could refuse. “The winners get…”
“Determined later.”
The pig held out a hand. He patted Goliath’s hand and the big guy released him. He strode forward, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake.
-_-
The next few hours were a whirlwind.
Xioajiao immediately ordered them to stay in their rooms, for everything to be a surprise. He could hear Pigsy and Tang talking down the hall and footsteps running around up on the deck. But he was more focused on his boyfriend, who looked unsure of how to comprehend the news he had just delivered. “Sorry…”
Sandy chuckled, patting him on the head. “It’s fine! It’ll be fun and hopefully, Pigsy leaves you alone after this.” Them losing would be easier with that attitude. He voiced this and froze as the taller chuckled. “Who says we’re losing?”
“Uh… kinda figured the whole thing with fighting…”
Thankfully, there was no sign of offense. “Oh! Well, who says I can’t still be a bit competitive?” There was a glint in his eye that reminded Huntsman of the first time they met and his insides warmed up. “Plus, Tang and Pigsy are… Tang and Pigsy.”
He had no clue what that meant. But he was eager to find out.
The sky outside was turning violet when Xiaotian, wearing black dress pants and a white shirt, poked his head in and informed them to get dressed in fancy outfits. Huntsman followed the request, grabbing the fancy outfit box and going behind the changing screen at Sandy’s request. Inside the box was a Western suit, with a lavender shirt and a grey vest, and matching slacks.
He stepped out, fussing with the collar. “So, what are you wearing-” He came to a stop, staring at Sandy.
He was dressed in a fancy cheongsam suit, golden threads creating a pattern of fishes swimming in the blue of the silk. “Wow,” he managed out, staring at his boyfriend. “Where did that come from?”
There was a casual shrug, as if he wasn’t ridiculously good-looking right now as he reached up, fixing his collar. “It was a gift from Wukong way back when.” He held out his hand, allowing Huntsman to take it. The two strolled out together, meeting Pigsy and Tang, also dressed nicely, out in the hall. He had the pleasure to see the former turn red when he saw their hands, unable to resist sticking his tongue out at him.
They passed the galley, in time to see Goliath poke his head out. He shot Huntsman a thumbs up. Behind him, an annoyed-looking Syntax was nursing a goose egg and Xiaotian was working at the stove.
Mo met them at the stairs to the deck and Sandy couldn't help but stop to coo over his little waiter's outfit. As soon as he calmed down, the cat led them to the deck.
And it turned out Xiaojiao could work fast.
A large table sat there, a white tablecloth over it and wine chilling with two g- right, Sandy and Pigsy didn't drink. The sky was clear enough to reveal a canvas of stars. Candles were lit, setting the mood perfectly. Then piano and guitar music started to play from the upper deck, revealed to be a formally dressed Red and an annoyed Wukong when they looked up, which only helped the mood.
Sandy pulled out a chair for Huntsman, pushing him back in. Tang sat down before Pigsy could do the same. Then Xiaojiao appeared, in a green shirt and black dress pants. "Welcome, gents!" she said. "We hope you enjoy your meal tonight!"
"Thanks, Xiaojiao!"
She grinned before disappearing, leaving them to it.
For a moment, there was awkward silence. Then Sandy started a conversation about Xiaotian's cooking, which Pigsy was all too eager to talk about. For a bit, he honestly forgot about why they were doing this. Then Xiaotian and Xiaojiao reappeared, both holding platters of food.
The table was set up and the group dissolved into eating.
As he ate, feeling himself fill up, Huntsman felt himself warm up. He started to lean more and more until he was leaning against Sandy. He felt his boyfriend's hand moved before an arm wrap around him. He couldn't help but get warmer, leaning more into the tall blue man.
On the other side...
Oh, so that was what Pigsy and Tang meant.
Tang was trying to steal food from Pigsy's plate, despite his own plate being full. The pig demon was eager to defend his food, batting his husband's hand away every chance he got. Huntsman couldn't help but grin at the pig's growl.
Romantic, huh?
"I suppose that's what you mean?" he asked quietly, hearing Sandy bit back a snort. The table shook a bit. "Are they always like this?"
"For as long as I've known them."
The table shook again. "Uh..."
"QUIT STEALING MY FOOD!" And with that yell, the table flipped. Huntsman yelped, tucking his feet barely out of the way. And just like that, Pigsy froze. He turned, meeting the spider demon's eyes.
Huntsman grinned.
"We win!" he yelled, grabbing Sandy and pulling him into a warm kiss. As he pulled away, he grinned. "We won!"
Pigsy let out a curse.
#my writing#Silktea#Monkie Kid#Lego Monkie Kid#Huntsman#Pigsy#Mei#Long Xiaojiao#Red Son#Goliath#Syntax#Tang#Sandy#Sun Wukong#look they have to do something for entertainment
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Glitches, Candles, and Knives
Summary: Five and Sloane (from the Sparrow academy) become (strictly platonic) friends. One day, while hiding out in a secret room, Fives trauma from the Apocalypse carries over and effects his power, making him “glitch”. He keeps it a secret from everyone, including Sloane, but little does he know Ben saw the whole thing. Later, on a mission, he gets injured, looses control of his power, and his secret leaks.
Warnings: Fighting, graphic violence, mentions of blood, a stabbing, Five in pain. This is my first writing piece, please let me know if I forgot any.
Word Count: 1139
(Ok guys this is my first ever public writing piece, so i’m sorry if its bad. I would love constructive criticism, but plz don’t be mean, i’m sensitive)
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Number Five blinked to the hallway, making sure the coast was clear. He gestured to Sloane, who was peeking around the corner. The two of them crept down, through the old house, into the creaky basement. Five lifted the moth ridden carpet, which released a puff of dust into the air. Sloane coughed, waving it away from her face. She lifted the trap door hidden beneath, and together they slipped into the secret space they had both discovered when they were kids.
The two had become secret friends, after she and him had bonded over the stupidity of their siblings on a mission. Once they realized they both had many things in common, they slowly opened up to each other. Their siblings had no idea, of course. Nether Sloane or Five had any intention of showing any weakness, which, to them, apparently meant making friends. (Also, it was likely they would be considered traitors by their respective families.)
Both Five and Sloane had found the hidden room when they were young, separately of course. Once they discovered the other knew about it, it became their secret hangout.
Sloane's finger burst into flame, and she lit a candle, the soft glow gently illuminating both their faces.
Five snorted and clicked on a flashlight. He never was one to believe in unconventional methods.
They talked for a long time, about life, their respectable childhoods, their siblings, and Reginald.
While the Umbrella’s childhood had been miserable, the sparrows had been... tolerable. Reginald was still the jerk he always was, but seeing how the first batch turned out, he decided to try a different approach on the sparrows. By a different approach, he meant calling them by their names, instead of numbers. Also, not locking any of his children in mausoleums.
The pair talked long enough for the candle to burn low, until Sloane’s head dropped onto Five’s shoulder, and she began to snore.
Five glanced at her, before focusing on the candle, the light reflecting in his dark eyes.
But Five and Sloane were not alone. Across the small room, Ben watched the two of them. He sat, his back against the wall, watching Five trace patterns in the dusty floor. He wished he could say something, anything, but there he sat, dead, and silent.
Suddenly, Five doubled forward, clutching his stomach. He made a small sound of pain, and his body… flickered. The only way to describe it was like when a t.v. screen glitched, sometimes in two places at once, unfocused and pixelated. Ben started forward, calling his name. Of course Five couldn’t hear him. His body was still broken, flickering. Ben felt like he was seeing double. Panic crept up his throat. Should he get Klaus?
Five gasped, and the glitching stopped. He sat forward, his breaths quick, ragged and painful. He clutched himself, his body still shaking. He glanced over at Sloane, who was still mercifully asleep, her head leaning onto her shoulder.
Five hugged himself tighter, his knees drawn to his chest. He looked at his hands, and in the softest voice possible, whispered “What’s happening to me?”
That was when Ben noticed the soft grey ash, drifting through the air, coming to rest on Five’s shoulders.
. . .
“Sloane. Hey, Sloane,” Five shook Sloane's shoulder. “Mm?” Sloane stirred, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Five watched her for a second, his hesitation clear on his face. Ben leaned forward. “Tell her,” He muttered.“Dads calling us.” Five said, getting up. “Better put out that useless candle of yours.” Ben sat back, disappointed and frustrated. Five always was bad at asking for help.
Later, the two academies stood in front of Reginald, dressed in their mission suits, masks on. The Sparrow and Umbrella academy stood noticeably apart from each other, giving hateful looks across the divide.
“There is currently a bank robbery taking place at cornerstone bank. Nothing you can't handle. We must hurry however, as it would be ideal to arrive before the city’s incorrigible police department does…”
As Reginald kept talking, Ben watched Five. The others hadn’t seen what he’d seen in the room beneath the floorboards. If they had, they'd be bombarding Five with questions, trying to help in the only way they knew how. That's why Ben didn’t tell Klaus. Not even when he noticed Five’s hand, hidden behind his back, glitching just like his whole body did in the basement.
Reginald’s pep talk ended, and the groups dispatched off on their mission.
Luther slammed a robber over the marble counter, his skull cracking on impact. He turned, and sprung into the fight, his chest bare, all his monkey hair out in the open.
While Alison dispatched a robber quickly, she tossed a broken pipe to Marcus, who made quick work of his own assailant. Throughout this all, Five and Sloane fought as a well coordinated pair, fighting efficiently, each person's power helping them in their own way. When a robber pinned Sloane against the desk, Five kicked him in the small of his back, and then when he turned around, punched him in the face.
“Hey Five! Heads up!” Diego shouted, whipping a knife out of his belt. Five jumped back, and Diego threw with scary precision. He focused on the knife, curving it around the corner, heading straight for the unsuspecting robber. That's when the robbers friend tackled Diego, breaking his concentration.
The sounds of fighting were suddenly broken by Sloane's scream. She stared in horror at the knife, sticking out of Five’s stomach. He was staring at it too. With one shaking hand, he touched the bloody wound, and stared at his fingers, dyed red. A strange quiet came over the group, teetered on the edge, and then fell. His sibling’s rushed toward Five. Unfortunately for him, the robber, who Diego's knife was meant for, got to him first. He slammed Five against the wall, and in one smooth move, yanked the knife out of Five’s stomach and held it to his neck. “Don’t move,” the robber growled, looking around at the group. Underneath him, blood dripped from Five’s lips. His whole body shook with pain.
Ben was the first to notice the gradual flickering slowly taking over Five’s body. But soon Luther did too, and his voice joined those trying to reason with the robber. “What the hell is happening to Five?!” Klaus shouted. Because now Five’s whole body was glitching. This time, worse than before.
Ash rained down around Five, and rubble flickered in and out of existence around his feet. Cinders joined the flickering ash.
“What the hell?!” The robber backed away from five, who slid down to the floor. Five flickered, crying out in pain.
“It's the apocalypse,” Vanya breathed. “He brought the apocalypse here. somehow,”
As his siblings rushed toward him, Five flickered once, twice, and then disappeared in a flurry of cinders and ash.
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To be continued???
#five hargreeves#number five#number one#number three#five fan fic#fan fiction#five x reader#the umbrella academy#tua#number four#klaus stan club#klaus#ben hargreeves#ben#the umbrella academy fan#five x sloane#vanya#number seven#number six#luther#first writing#is it good?#constructive criticism
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