#bright hathaway

[madz-the-3rd]

Look at my gundam ponies boy

[siodam]

June bride💐

[enelo]

[azuredrg]

I love how happy Hathaway was to see his dad so i giffed it

[suranet]

more doodling. i'm starting to remember how organics work! somewhat!

[quattroqunt]

[fanz-y]

Bright Noa, the absentee fathers to Hathaway Noa

His flavor of the "war is hell" themes might be my favorite, he chooses to continue fighting trying to protect people yet by that he abandons his family, he knows this too, calling himself a bad father in Gundam ZZ, and yet in Zeta Gundam Mirai puts her faith in him regardless, but as it stands he spent far more of his time helping other kids instead of Hathaway.

and another detail I want to point out is that Harutoshi Fukui (the writer behind Unicorn, Phenex Hunting, Turn A and Narrative, plus the Unicorn Novels) wrote a short prequel story to Unicorn called The Man Who Could Not Ride the Rainbow, in which Bright is the main character and in which he literally just forgets that Hathaway was on the Ra Calium during CCA and it is pointed out that it's not because of the fighting or his professionalism, he literally just forgot about Hathaway.

Speaking of CCA, Bright made Hathaway stay on the Ra Caliums bridge, instead of sending him somewhere safer on the ship he just told him to stay in the ships biggest target.

Coming back to the short story, Bright couldn't bring himself to talk to Hathaway as to what he did in the Jegan and as to why Hathaway (as pointed out by the story) wasn't talking at all anymore.

Bright knows he's an incapable dad and that stops him from even trying, he chose the life of the soldier and thus abandoned his family, war is hell and nothing ever good comes from it.

Also you might have noticed I used Unicorn Bright instead of CCA or any other, because to me it is very important to point out that during Unicorn Bright has a big framed picture of Amuro in his office while the only picture of Hathaway his actual son is a small family photo we see in ZZ.

In short even if his neglect for his family comes as a conflict between him trying his best to protect them and being them for them, his unwillingness to even try for them and Hathaway specifically is the real reason why he is a bad dad.

Tomorrow as promised Banagher Links, afterward whatever the poll decides, go decide what you'd like

(Img source is a screencap from Gundam Unicorn)

[fanficrocks]

Endeavour (and Morseverse in general) characters as seasons

Sunday musings prompted by a typical April (aka we went from spring to third winter to false summer and back to spring in the last 72 hours).

Trying to classify characters in the Morseverse by the season/s their trajectories follow in canon. Please add your ideas in comments and reblogs.

Bright: The end of autumn fading into winter.

Thursday: Starts as the end of summer in S1, travels through the richness of autumn during the early series, then withers into the winter in S9.

Morse: Starts out as spring (however tentatively) and really should bloom into the fullness of summer, but seems to end up at autumn directly. Then spends the entire Inspector Morse canon as autumn veering into winter.

Jakes: Starts out as winter - and seems frozen so hard that it is impossible to think a thaw is possible; yet blossoms into a delicate spring thanks to Hope and Endeavour.

Strange: He is just strange - doesn’t fit this fancy of mine.

Lewis: Starts as late spring at the beginning of Inspector Morse, and spends the entirety of that show as verdant summer. At the start of his own show, the loss of his wife is like a premature frost bringing on an early autumn; but he somehow ends giving the impression that winter is still a long ways off.

Hathaway: Winter forever.

[amalgamasreal]

Why go to therapy when you can become an ecological terrorist while still pining over the girl who left you to join a TOTALLY not gay man with a death wish who then was blown up in a mobile armor before said man and his object of obsession ascended to a higher plane of existence? Ignoring these two women who're obviously holding a candle for you the entire time:

Bright Noa out here being a great dad to everyone EXCEPT his own damn kid.

[motionjames]

TRUE LOVE IS POSSIBLE FOR NEW PEOPLE, PT.1

or

char and amuro, snowden, mr.lawrence, the asteroid, the boy, and the place we were born

In the Snowden chapter of Catch-22, Yossarian wakes up in a cold sweat surrounded by probing doctors after getting stabbed multiple times in his side. The doctors ask:

‘Where were you born?’

The fat, gruff colonel reminded Yossarian of the fat, gruff colonel who had interrogated the chaplain and found him guilty. Yossarian sat up at him through a glassy film. The cloying scents of formaldehyde and alcohol sweetened the air.

‘On the battlefield,’ he answered.

‘No, no. In what state were you born?’

‘In a state of innocence.’

Before this it was all comedy. After this– after the knife comes down, after the woman cries for her lover, after Yossarian shrieks and falls to the ground in genuine terror as the past blooms in his side for an uncaring audience– it dies. From now on, there will be nightmares. It won’t stop until the end.

+++

I started watching Mobile Suit Gundam in middle school on the library computers and then I began saving the battery on my school-issued laptop so I could watch it on the bus as well. I loved the mechs and grand, sweeping arcs and most of all Amuro Ray, curled up with whited-out eyes in a near vegetative state as the world orbits around him. I drew him clumsily with a mouse in mspaint and made it my icon for various online activities. His hair was nice. I didn’t understand what I wanted for or from him, but I knew I wanted to watch.

At some point I began to question where exactly it is that Amuro gets doomed. We already know how it ends– in that brilliant burst of cosmic light, the sky painted with shooting stars– but when did it start? When did he lose it all? Amuro is so withdrawn, so singular, so depressing to watch in action, he’s nothing more than a doll for another doll, some flesh and bones that bring a killing machine alive when somebody else tells him to. There’s nothing left. Amuro believes in compassion but it’s too late for him. Maybe it wasn’t always like this.

Following the thread, I found it: It wasn’t in the burning cockpit at the end of CCA or in the elevator in Zeta or through the endless battles of ‘79, it was when he entered the mech. The RX-78-2, a tool for war and a plastic toy I have lovingly placed on my shelf. A machine his father built. His father is thrown into space. His mother rejects him for his atrocities. Amuro is effectively orphaned by the machine and pulled apart and reconstructed and told to continue onward. He despises it, and then he lives it.

Before this it was comedy. After this, it dies.

+++

Char Aznable never really existed. Because of that, nothing he says or does really means anything, no matter how much others would tell you otherwise. Quess adores him for the promises he feeds her, Garma latches onto his support, the world revolves around him. He has an undeniable magnetism. And yet, when he is up on a podium speaking to an audience, he fails. Char is a terrible politician. He has so much charisma but no real ideals– He was a boy with a gun and he’s been coasting ever since then.

A man who has spent his life under a mask will know the script by heart. These are not words of his own but he speaks them like they are, not because he means them or even that he wishes to but because it will advance him to the next scene. The play will keep going. He started this as a means of revenge but his role became too large and now everyone is watching, waiting for his next move, and frankly, there isn’t any reason why he shouldn’t continue. Casval never got to be a person. It’s just the mask and uniform now.

Unable to exist, there isn’t any reason why he shouldn’t destroy everyone around him. Quess is so easy for him. Nanai, too. He’s been doing this his whole life. Incapable of treating his fellow man with any sort of respect, how can he be expected to craft a better future for humanity? Only in the very end in tears and a burning cockpit does he realize something so simple– “Humans, who possess warmth, are still cruel enough to destroy Earth” – and the mask is gone at last. What was he doing this entire time? What was the point? Casval’s eyes open and he cries.

Hatred is so easy. It’s just nightmares to the very end.

+++

“How can you aim a gun at someone like that, and fire?”

Amuro’s mother asks this when they meet for the first time since being separated by the war. Amuro looks panicked because he doesn’t have a good answer– He’s been told to do this, to survive, but death is still death, except he never really wanted to hurt anyone, not really, they would’ve died if it wasn’t for him– and his mother cries and rejects him for what he’s become. She’s so ashamed of him. You’re no longer my son, she says. He’d lost his place in the world as soon as he’d entered the mech but now he really knows it, that the one place of unconditional love he could ever hope for has officially run dry. He is taken away by the White Base and the two strangers never see each other again. Somewhere, his father is melting away in a colony tinkering with trash trying to make gadgets of war just like the old days.

Amuro speaks to his mother in a foreign language. It is a language of violence. It was how he was taught to live. But there is no response and there is no love here; there are no words or violence that could possibly express how alone he has really become. The world revolves around him but he sits at the center unmoving and unchanging, tinkering with the toys that ripped him out of time. It’s the last place he has left to go. It’s too late for people like him.

+++

Amuro and Char are trying to craft a new world. They are the only people who could understand each other because they were both born on the battlefield and remember there must’ve been innocence once, if not in them then around them, and somehow it was lost along the way. If they saw something beautiful they wouldn’t know it because they only know how to speak in guns and swords and nights preparing for something terrible to happen, probably by their own hand. The story makes circles around them and they get closer and closer with time. In their final battle in the original series, Char tries to kill Amuro but then suddenly suggests they run off together instead. It’s such a selfish action. Humanity’s future lies with them.

It is too late for either of them and no matter how pure Amuro’s heart is or how powerful Char becomes, the future will never be born with them or anything they do. They cannot picture a world unlike the one they live in now. White Base’s beloved crew will grow up serving the government without question and have happy families and live in a hell they inherited but nonetheless perpetuate. Somewhere on the battlefield, a boy is born. He does something terrible. He’s given a medal. His father will kill him one day. He watches two pilots burst into light and the galaxy glow with the souls of a hundred mobile suits. With blood on his hands, he catches sight of a future where none of this has to happen.

It was always too late for Amuro and Char. But for the boy–

+++

At the end of Merry Christmas Mr.Lawrence, POW Jack Celliers is dying in the sand. He has been a rebellious spirit for the entire story, pushing back against the senseless cruelty with harmless acts of humanity . He has kissed the Captain of the camp and he is going to die for it. His head lays in a miniature desert with the skin flaking off his sun-scarred cheeks.

The Captain appears. He saws a small lock of hair from the man he’s sentenced to death before bowing and leaving forever. Jack dies. The Captain dies. The Sergeant beneath him is executed years later for his war crimes. Earlier, a young man bit his tongue out and bled to death. Emaciated prisoners collapsed to the ground after being forced to walk from their beds. So much death all around, and for nothing. All of the kindness was crushed underfoot and left behind in the march.

The dread is overwhelming but there are flashes of crimson throughout the film; there are sprouts of kindness between the blows that appear beautiful and bright before they are stamped out. Sergeant Hara gets drunk and hand waves the execution– a move that would normally get him shot– but the usually so venomous Captain Yonoi lets him off with a slap on the wrist and a cigarette with a notable red flower mark on its side. The red flower is not unlike the one Jack offered to him scenes ago and the deliberate act of unprecedented kindness has a similar ring. Hara, years later in his cell before his death day, looks up to his old friend and brings up a joke from the night he was drunk. Yonoi kills Jack but takes a lock to remember him. Everybody dies. Somewhere, there is love.

The sprouts are plucked out time and time again but they keep pushing out from the cruel earth regardless. Jack knew he would die when he stole that kiss, but he planted the seed regardless. It is too late for us, but true love is possible. Just not here. Not for me.

+++

+++

The only thing left for the two men is to die.

The Axis is coming down and it’s going to end at last, finally the play will be over and we can stop reading the lines and pretending like we mean them, but soldiers fly up in their war machines and try to push it all back. They dissolve due to the overwhelming temperature and vanish into stardust. Amuro screams for them to stop. But this is a radical movement of selflessness that will save them all and in the end the two men die and become a part of the green aurora that swims around the earth like a halo. The children look up at the sky and point to the light and smile. It was the best thing they could ever become. And it only lasted a night.

–When people speak of happiness, they almost always refer to the near-impossible everlasting kind, the one that you spend your whole life chasing. But it is easy to forget there were small moments as well; everyday occurrences or inexplicable happenings that plant a seed in us before being swept away forever. They’re a peek into the future. Somebody left it there for us to find. It was impossible for them, but for us…

+++

The moment Jack holds forth his flower is no more than 3 seconds long. But I can take that reel and I can find that frame and I can see it was there and alive and that it meant something. Things never really go. They just sit in a sequence of many other moments, and sometimes– hopefully– they’ll repeat.

+++

Amuro and Char and 100 other pilots become a green moonlit mist that the children of earth wish on. A boy in his mobile suit watches in horror and inherits this moment in all of its love and hope and pain forever and ever. He has killed someone and he is about to get a medal. The earth is saved. The children watch and send their wishes to the sky. For a moment before their evisceration, the centers of the universe saw the world they could never build themselves. It is too late– It is too late– It is too late—

Seeds are planted. True love is possible. A boy named Hathaway watches the dream of thousands pour out from the precipice of the new world.

Somehow, it repeats:

Humanity's future lies with him.

thank you for reading.

[beaft]

(to the tune of "i dreamed a dream") it’s been at least 10 thousand years / since I was germ-free and contented / my nasal passages were clear / my sleep was restful not tormented

[journeytojaburo]

Going doujinshi hunting online is fun because it's very charming to me to see all the different styles and covers but 80% of it feels like this

[siodam]

Happy Halloween🎃

[enelo]

noa

[courtingchaos]

It’s Just a Question

A/N: Back on my bullshit. I’ve had some really hard times with my normal writing while also finding myself in some shitty circumstances. So this is how this came about. Just a lot of feelings. Technically plus sized reader but you can do whatever you want.

18+ NSFW No Minors

“Am I pretty?”

“What?” Eddie sprays toothpaste on the mirror, he’s so quick to ask.

“Am I pretty?” You scrunch your face up over and over, drawing your eyebrows down and crinkling your eyes. Purse your lips and frown deep and finally look over at him staring at you, toothbrush hanging from his mouth and arms braced on the countertop.

“Are you pretty?” He reiterates with a deep sigh. “Of course you are, you’re gorgeous. Especially right now when your hair matches mine and we look like two electrocuted cotton balls.” He’s not flippant but he’s definitely brushing you off.

You aren’t done though. “I’m serious, and I’m not asking if you think I’m pretty. Am I pretty like…Anne Hathaway.” You pull down on your cheek and watch it bounce back, albeit slower than it did when you were 20.

“Well…you don’t even look-no.” He stops quickly and spits in the sink and rinses his toothbrush, viciously shaking his head the whole time. “This is a trap and I refuse.” He says as he leaves you in the bathroom.

“Eddie it’s not a trap it’s an honest question!”

“This is like the worm thing and I’m not doing that again!” He yells over his shoulder before closing himself in the bedroom to get dressed for work. You sigh and turn to look at your tired reflection. Your perpetual eyebags answer your question for you, and your dusting of sun damage yells it louder from the mirror.

Not pretty, subliminally average.

Standing in line at the grocery store, Eddie slumped over the handle and picking at stray grapes, you ask again only this time with a visual aid.

“Okay, I mean like this.” You shove a copy of Rolling Stone under his nose, a new pop star gracing their cover in something sheer and tight. “I meant pretty like this.” You say quietly next to him. He chews on another free grape slowly, staring at the cover and tilting his head. He doesn’t move, just slides his eyes way over to give you the look.

“You’re prettier than her.”

“What about Juno Temple?” You quip back.

“She’s shorter than you. And British, doesn’t count.” He quips right back. You huff and shove the magazine back in its slot.

“You’re not understanding me.”

“No, I am. You’re just not listening to me.” He pushes the cart up a spot and continues his easy lean. “You’re pretty like…that.” He searches the newsstand by the register and points at a baking magazine, perfectly circled apple tart dusted with sugared cinnamon and you bark a loud laugh.

“A tart Edward?”

“Don’t twist my words. I said you’re pretty like that.” He smiles, pops another grape in his mouth and starts tossing things on the conveyer belt.

Pretty like a baked good.

He’s elbow deep in the shelf of succulents, looking for something called a ‘Black Rose’.

“I know it’s in here, there’s four dead ones up top.” He’s pushing little green teardrops to the side to find his prize, a loud ‘Ha!’ when he whips his hand out, holding the little plant by its little container.

“It’s so tiny.”

“Yeah and in like six months it might not be.” He gives you a cheesy smile and sets in the cart with your other potential house plant failures. Somehow he’s managed to keep a giant flat pot of succulents alive for almost a year and every time you go to the plant store, he adds another.

“Okay, what’s its name.”

You hum at him, tapping your finger along the cart when you get distracted. A willow of a woman walks in, hair shiny like water and flowing over her thin, petite shoulders. She looks like she’s on a mission, perfectly manicured hand pointing her in the right direction when she heads for a batch of bright zinnias. Her smile painted a bright coral like the plant she picks up and places in her cart, three more following and off she billows to the next aisle full of ivy. Eddie saw it the moment you stopped listening to him listing off names. The swivel of your head and then the tapping of your finger ceasing, knuckles going white around the cart handle. He watches you watch her and he knows the question is coming before you turn back around with that frown hewn into your forehead.

“Like this.” He holds up the small succulent, barely formed petals burnished a deep purple in the afternoon sun.

“What.”

“Pretty like this.”

“You don’t even-“ You scoff and cut yourself off, heavy eye roll directed at no one while you turn away and sulk by the snake plants.

He doesn’t tell you, but he names it after you.

The Big One happens during the summer. Chrissy is engaged, and her new belle and her decide to have a joint bachelorette party, everyone invited. You know Eddie’s people, all these random characters drawn together through something you don’t quite understand. You meet Chrissy fiancé and she’s just as bubbly and sweet as Chrissy herself. Eddie gives them your gift and drops a kiss on Chrissy’s cheek and it barely bothers you.

They’d dated just out of high school. 15 years ago and before Chrissy had realized why men just never hit the spot. She floats around her party and you hang around behind Eddie while he walks the two of you around in conversation. At some point you’d gone past your standard three (3) drinks and the mango seltzers are starting to make you a little resentful.

Thankfully you catch it, excuse yourself to the bathroom and give yourself a stern stare in the mirror.

It’s not your party.

They’re just friends.

It’s not about you.

…Is it ever?

There’s a reason you stop at 3 lately, that rolling black pit of self loathing feeds on bubbly things and it’s feeding on a blonde tonight.

So when you come back you sit at a table by yourself. You tuck your hands under your thighs and admonish yourself for how wide they are. There’s a tug of war happening between your self pity and your self depreciation, a tear balancing on your lashes while you roll the wet eyes under them. Eddie finds you bent over your phone and all you can think about is how wide your shoulders must have looked from that far away.

“Hey, where’d you go?”

“I had to uh, go to the bathroom.” Your pause gives you away, just south of tipsy, and Eddie smiles, his big hand sliding under your chin to hold it between his fingers. A move that usually has you melting into his palm, but tonight?

You tug your head away and he frowns. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think I need to be here anymore.”

“You feeling okay?”

“I’m just fine. I’m gonna get an Uber home, you stay.” You stand up and hate the feel of your clothes on you. Your hair feels too heavy and the makeup you spent an hour on is suddenly sticky and tacky and wasted on you.

“No, we’ll leave together.” Eddie has concern all over his face. He tries to give you a hand when you obviously stumble and you slap it away.

The fight only starts when you start crying, unable to control your emotions anymore. You spend the whole ride home feeling sorry for yourself, saying the most inane shit Eddie’s ever heard.

“You can’t ask me to compare you to Chrissy. That’s not fair!” He laughs humorlessly when you ask him who’s prettier. “One, it was 15 years ago! Two, I’m not doing this anymore!” He yells and it shuts you up. He can hear the click of your jaw with how quick you stop yammering on drunkenly about your thighs.

“If you want to play that game, let’s look at your past relationships, huh?”

“What relationships Eddie?!” You scream back at him. There’s a part of his being that can feel the backslide into the terrible habit of yelling to get his point across. Picked up from his father and quelled at every turn, but today you drag it out of him.

“Oh don’t start with that shit again.”

“You mean all the guys that fucked me in the dark?! Or do you mean the ones that pretended not to know me in public?”

He gets to your apartment in record time, slamming the car in park and scrambling to hold your seatbelt buckled before you can run out.

“Let me out.” Your face is red from crying and from hatred and from loathing.

“No.” He says quieter but with finality. You stare at him, waiting for him to move his hand but he won’t, keeps his fingers locked around yours.

“You’re drunk, and you’ve been in a bad mood lately.” He knows he knows he knows that was the wrong thing to say. It spilled out of his mouth before he could throw the net out for those errant words and you give him the meanest smile he’s ever seen on your face.

“A bad mood?” You nod your head like you’re agreeing but he’s bracing for impact. “A bad mood. Tell you what, when I have a fucking roster of groupies and easy boys behind me, then we can talk about my bad mood.”

“You’re mad because of people I’ve slept with?”

“Look at me Eddie!” You scream and it breaks on his name, the sob you’d been swallowing for an hour finally surfacing. “I don’t fucking look like Chrissy and I sure as fuck don’t look like Steve! You still have that picture of that stand in drummer on your profile you fucked around with! Every single one of them is-fuck! Stunning!” You finally wrench the seatbelt out of his hand and free yourself. “I look like a fucking joke when you take me places. You think I don’t see people staring?” Another mirthless laugh before you kick the door open and wobble your way out. “Make someone else laugh, Eddie.”

He watches you stomp off inside and slap the button for the elevator. There’s enough time he could get out and follow you in and upstairs and finish the yelling match and maybe get you to see straight.

But he doesn’t. His grip tightens on the steering wheel so much it creaks. He feels on the verge of tears and when you disappear behind the closing doors he punches his door and drives home too fast.

The doorbell rings and Eddie answers it without thinking. You look small in your hoodie, your hair damp and braided over your shoulder. He’s so used to you standing tall with him, a sturdy pillar he can lean on instead of always having to be the support. To see your shoulders pulled in tight makes his chest ache.

“I’m sorry I haven’t answered your texts.” You say quietly.

“I shouldn’t have yelled like that.”

“God don’t-“ you wipe at your eyes and stare at your feet. “Don’t apologize to me. I shouldn’t have gone off the fucking handle like that.”

“Maybe, but you’re obviously feeling some kind of way that you aren’t telling me about.”

“It’s the normal shit, Eddie. I just let it get to me.”

He holds the door open wider and nods his head over to the couch. “You wanna tell me about it?”

You don’t, not really. It’s going to go the way it always does with you explaining a life long loathing and the few times you see daylight out of the pit it holds you in.

“I shouldn’t have started that pretty shit.” You shake your head and clutch the pillow tighter around your middle. Eddie sits on the other side of the couch, long legs tucked up under his chin and you wish you could fold in on yourself like that. There must be a twist to your mouth or a shift of your body because Eddie sighs deeply.

“You know you don’t have to ask me that.”

“I know, but that’s not what I was asking anyways.”

“What does it matter?”

You shoot him a puzzled look. “I mean, I just want-I’d like to know if-“ you start and stop and Eddie just waits until you stop floundering.

“If I think you’re pretty, what does the rest matter?”

“It just does.” Your bottom lip wobbles and you hide it behind your fist. Eddie catches it, of course, and crawls over to you, grabbing your quivering chin and making you look up.

“I can’t undo a lifetime of self loathing in one afternoon, but I can definitely help cut through that shit one compliment at a time.” He gives you a gentle kiss and feels the smattering of tears hit your face, his thumb coming up to wipe them away. He cradles your face till you bury it in his neck and quietly cry for a while.

You loose count of how many sorry’s you give him and he finally tells you enough with a smile. He gives you his phone and tells you to order dinner and he disappears for a few minutes in his room.

Later, after food and more talking and a quiet nap spent curled up against Eddie’s side he asks if he can take you to bed.

“Sure grampa.” He smiles at your humor, an improvement to the tears earlier. He gets you out of your Sad Clothes and you quickly get under the blankets. He wants to say something but he knows to start small.

Starts with the lights off and sheds his clothes before crawling under the blankets from the foot of the bed. It makes you laugh and wind your legs around him, a win in his book. He kisses up your legs leaving a wet trail from your ankles to your thighs before you feel your face growing hot the closer he gets to your center. When you think he might pull your underwear off he doesn’t, instead kissing up your soft stomach to your breast and it isn’t until his curls spill out from under the blanket that you can hear him murmuring against your skin. Chanting “beautiful beautiful beautiful” and laying down “I love you’s”. His nose runs along under your chin while he kisses up to your ear “so pretty so perfect”. He runs his hands up into your hair and hold you in place while he hovers, warm brown eyes staring lovingly into yours.

“You have no idea how lucky I am.”

“Eddie…”

“No, don’t start.” He kisses you long and slow and it makes you tear up in a good way. He notices them hanging in the corners of your eyes and kisses those away while you laugh at him, watery and light and he knows he’s winning. It isn’t long before he’s got you trapped under him, legs tugged up around his hips so he can fuck into you slow and deep, his fingers still carding through your hair and keeping your eyes on him.

“So good for me.”

“Keep your eyes on me baby.”

“Just me and you.”

You couldn’t close your eyes if you wanted to, anchored to his stare and his touch and the way he whispers at you such sweet things. He kisses you deep when he feels you tightening around him. Thighs pulled tight around his hips, hands grasping for his shoulders to hold him tight to you while you spasm and gasp around him. He follows soon after, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck.

“Sweet girl.”

“Always so good to me.”

“Love you so much.”

Eddie lets you unwind from him before he lays on his back beside you.

���Can I show you something?” He pulls you in next to him so you have to drape over his chest, tattoos swelling under his deep breath. He holds his phone over your heads and finds the photo album he was looking for. You catch a glimpse of one of you and start to turn your head into his chest before he tuts at you.

“What did we just talk about?”

Instead you give him the benefit of doubt and let him scroll through. He talks about all the photos he has of you and why he kept them. Why he took them or got them from Robin or Nancy or one of the kids on one of the many outings. He’s got pictures of sunsets and really good food and flowers and his succulent pot. There’s a skyline in the rain from a green room he was in that he tells you reminds him so much of you. Says something about composition and the rain and how it comforts him like you do and if you weren’t wrung out you’d start crying again. He scrolls for a half hour explaining every photo and why they’re all you or remind him of you and how he finds you in the things he finds beautiful.

“So yes, I do.” He grabs your chin and you melt into his touch as he pulls you in for a soft kiss. “I think you’re pretty and beautiful and stunning and I will remind you every day.” Another peck before he cradles your head against his chest.

One day, maybe, you won’t have to remind yourself that it doesn’t matter. That Eddie thinks you’re pretty and that’s all you need, but today you know it for sure and feel it for sure and it’s enough.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

[venuscnjunctpluto]

Astro pt. 5

(I think it’s part 5😭)

* As a Venus conjunct pluto, Im so jealous of my cousins w Venus trine Pluto. They can easily become popular and have women drawn to them without as much drama.

*gemini rising babies are so much fun they smile so much as babies (shoutout to my niece and little cousin🥰)

* i have sun conjunct Neptune and people have compared me to a fairy

*cardi b has venus in the 8th (and a Scorpio venus i think) and she paid to get two strippers offset cheated w beat up. Scorpionic women + cheaters are a baddd combination.

*gwenyth Paltrow recently got body shamed and told to eat but shes also has a Pisces rising. They usually are very thin or have fragile looking bodies

*first house is also personality and my experience w Pluto in 1st people they are very very dominant. They’re friends follow them around, they’re used to getting their way, they have eyes on them at all times which can give them bad anxiety.

*Mars in the 2nd house men have some niceeeeeee voices like they’re so deep you can pick their voice out in a crowd

*I’ve seen Chiron in 11th be bullied as kids and grow up and become bullies. Also they might have a traumatic relationship with being in front of a camera. (Avoiding recording themselves or taking pictures)

*Virgo risings have some cool moms (sag in 4th)

*also Aries in 11th can get told they do too much on social media (posting too much or over sharing)

* I notice famous women who people claim are everywhere (basically overexposed) or in too many roles for actresses usually are Lilith dominant. (Ex: Jennifer Lawrence, GiGi Hadid, Megan thee stallion, Anne Hathaway) are they overexposed or are y’all just jealous?😭

*venus in the 1st can lead to jealousy it’s not always love and admiration. For ex: my friend saw this guy around our dorm and thought he was cute so she followed him on ig. Mind you a lot of girls in our dorm thought he was attractive (he had pluto in 1st) and many talked about him😭 well my friend saw his gf on his page and obviously left it alone but his gf picked her out of all the girls who lusted after him to be threatened by. Well his gf was an early degree cancer Venus and my friend has a Gemini Venus at 19 degrees so her Venus was in my friends 1h. She was clearly bothered by my friend specifically following him because she found her to be attractive.

*Three girls who talked about me behind my back and tried to bully me all had Aries venuses. One had my rising conjunct her Venus exactly.

*ONCE again mercury pluto are liars idk if it’s because they think they can get away w it or what but Sza has a conjunction and my good sis lies for no reason

*aqua Venus women are usually bisexual or lesbians

*Doja cat is a good example of Uranus-asc. I have a tight orb sextile and I’ve worn adventure time doc martens, strawberry earrings, bright orange hair. Think of Harper from wizards of waverly place.

*a good song for that aspect is “Secrets” by Mary Lambert. “I rock mom jeans, cat earrings, extrapolate my feelings”😮‍💨

*sun conjunct asc could make someone resemble their father or act just like their dad and I think Doja does resemble her father a lot

* also she has Saturn in 5th and her father was an actor/performer. Also she complained about working too much and many people w this aspect feel like the fun is delayed and comes after work or they very strict on themselves in fun environments. Let loose yall💕💕

* my favorite mercury sign is Taurus😭 they have beautiful voices but the way the cuss people out is so iconic to me (ex: azealia banks)

*it’s messy to bring him up after doja but idgaf😭 Joseph Quinn has mars conjunct Uranus. A lot of eddie munson’s mannerisms were erratic and I think mar-Uranus plus his aqua placements made eddie so great at the role.

*also I notice a lot of heartthrobs or men twitter went crazy for at some point have aqua placements (timothee chalamet, Harry styles, Justin Bieber, Joseph Quinn, Noah centineo, Pedro pascal) it’s opposite of Leo so I think people keep forgetting the attention magnet can go for aquas too esp online.

*since i mentioned the show another example of Venus-Neptune synastry could be Mason and Alex. All the art references, him hiding what he really was until he couldn’t, and the fears of cheating and deceit.

*a mix of Virgo, libra, and Leo can make someone the person who tries to help everyone. They will bring you food if you haven’t eaten and also lecture you but it’s coming from a good place. I think people forget how sweet Leo placements can be (ex: Bella hadid for someone who grew up w money she’s very humble and you can see this in multiple instances. For example sza thanked her for helping fix her hair at the met gala)

* she also have Venus conjunct ascendant which I think makes someone’s Venus traits stand out. I’ve noticed people w Venus square their ascendant don’t really openly express love for people and can even get called “cold” esp by family members.

*She also has Saturn in the 7th which could mean dating older partners or partners w cap placements. The Weeknd was older than her and he has a cap Venus + mars.

*certain placements can get away w a lot. Chris brown has a history of abuse yet women seem to still support him (moon conjunct Venus). He also has mars opposite Uranus which is a temper problem indicator

* fixed risings 🤝 pixie cuts/bobs (ex: Marilyn Monroe, Halle Berry, Zendaya, demi Lovato)