#burning candle 😬

[running-in-the-dark]

wax seals are so pretty I love them 💖

[here2bbtstrash]

BUT WHAT ABOUT THE CANDLE LMAOOOOOO

[shatterthefragments]

Oof yeah some mistakes were made (I bought some CDs after the merch oops 😬)

At least I’ll be okay even if I don’t like that next month’s statement is relying on the fact that I do get paid (which I do)

May I make better decisions after breakfast 😌 (by which I mean not spending any money until I go out for the show) (…I could probably switch to the mini room instead But Is It Worth It?? Not really. I’ll literally be fine.)

London fog with eggs and savoury(?) French toast - it’s an experiment with a dash of chili oil, mushroom powder, and pepper and idk I figure butter is still savoury I guess??

Will probably see if I can go eat outside :) do I bring a picnic blanket to the field? We shall see~

Ooh the picnic table gingham skirt is GIVING today 🤩 I’m going o put on a linen long sleeve bc it’s late enough UV is a concern oops

Pic(s) under cut - addendum that it’s very posed, I haven’t had anything to eat today, and this bra is VERY titty forward

[d3adp00ls]

I’m still waiting for that angst fic pookie 😍🫶

Clingy

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: Vanessa has been a lot more distant a lot but you didn’t think she would miss a important night like this. (I KNOW MY SUMMARY IS BEAUTIFUL)

Contents: Angst, Yelling, Tears, stressed Vanessa, Established relationship, hurt no comfort (yet), Vanessa gets slapped 😬, somebody needs driving lessons lol.

Word count: I'm pretty sure my dog knows.

Side note: 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗

Pt.2 Pt.3

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You were sitting on the couch in your shared home with Vanessa, watching a TV program that featured extravagant rings that cost more than your entire life. Recently, Vanessa had been coming home later than usual, and every time you tried to bring it up, she would dismiss your concerns or accuse you of being too clingy. You tried to brush off her words and the hurt they caused, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings. Eventually, you gave up and started going to bed before she came home. However, tonight was supposed to be different. You had pleaded with her to come home early and she had promised she would. Filled with hope, you had prepared a romantic candle-lit dinner and even bought her a gift. But as the minutes turned into hours, the food grew cold and the gift remained untouched on the table. You sat on the couch with a half-finished glass of wine, tears welling up in your eyes.

She was supposed to have arrived hours ago, and you had debated whether or not to just go to sleep. But as you were about to doze off, you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling and the front door opening. Vanessa, your late girlfriend, seemed oblivious to your presence as she quietly closed the door and went straight to the kitchen without acknowledging the food you had prepared for her.

With a clenched jaw, you stood up and cleared your throat, causing Vanessa to finally notice you. "Y/n? What are you doing up?" she asked with a confused and slightly worried expression.

You wanted to scoff at her question. How dare she ask that when she had promised to be here? "Oh, you know," you shrugged, taking a few steps towards her, "Just waiting for my girlfriend who was supposed to be here almost four hours ago." Your voice rose with pent-up anger towards the end, and you could see Vanessa flinch slightly at the sound of it.

"Y/n…I lost track of time, I'm sorry, really I am, I-" She started to apologize, but you cut her off, not in the mood for her excuses.

"Do you know what today is?" you asked, your voice heavy with disappointment. Vanessa looked even more puzzled, and you let out a sigh as you walked over to the table and picked up the small gift box you had prepared for her. You fiddled with it between your fingers, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"June 7th," you said, looking back at Vanessa, hoping she would finally understand. But she still looked confused, and you felt your heart sink. "The day we started dating, two years ago. Does it not ring a bell, Vanessa? Or were you too busy thinking about work or some other woman while you were out all night?" you couldn't hold back your anger any longer, and you let out a loud yell, tears now streaming down your face.

"Oh…" Vanessa mumbled, finally realizing her mistake. You nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks, but they kept coming.

"Yeah…" you said, your disappointment evident in your voice.

"Baby, I know I've been really busy and lost track of time, but please try to understand-" You cut her off abruptly, rolling your eyes and turning away.

"Here we go again…" you mutter under your breath, feeling her glare burning into the back of your head as you make your way to the bedroom. You toss the gift box in the trash on your way, feeling frustrated and angry.

"What do you mean?" she asks, following you into the room. You let out a sigh and close the door behind you, but she stops it with her foot and pushes it open, grabbing your arm and spinning you to face her.

"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you," she says coldly, but you scoff and pull your arm away.

"No, you don't get to act like you haven't been doing the same thing for the past week. You always do this, yet whenever I try and speak up about it, I'm the bad guy? That's complete bullshit!" you yell, jabbing your finger into her chest.

"And don't even try to pretend that you've only missed spending time with me once. You do it every single day," you continue, your voice cracking as tears start to well up in your eyes.

"Every time you tell me you'll be here, you never are. And when I try to talk to you about it, you just shut me down and tell me the same bullshit excuse or you just flat out tell me to get over it. But it's getting harder and harder to ignore, Nessa. And this morning, I had to beg you to stay. You said you would, and I believed you. But then you showed up later than ever and didn't even respond to my messages. You didn't even remember what today was. At this point, I’m convinced I’m just some inconvenience to you." Your voice breaks as you continue to pour out your feelings, wiping away the tears that are now falling freely down your face.

She looks at you in surprise, wanting to reach out and comfort you, but you take a step back and wipe away your own tears before taking a deep breath and looking away from her.

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not important to you, Nessa. I just want to spend time with you and feel like I matter to you. Is that too much to ask?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper now.

Vanessa let out a heavy sigh before shaking her head in frustration.

"Y/n, I love you, but I have responsibilities and obligations that I can't always put on hold for you," she said with a huff.

You looked at her with hurt and confusion in your eyes, crossing your arms and turning away. "Am I not important to you anymore?" you mumbled, your voice trembling.

Vanessa's sigh pained your heart as you heard it. "Of course you are, but you just don't understand," she started, but you interrupted her with a pleading look.

"Then help me understand," you begged, taking her hands and pulling her closer to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, desperate for her to see how much this was affecting you. "Please… I want to understand," you whispered, gazing into her eyes.

She looked away, her jaw clenching as she pulled her hands away from yours. Your heart sank as she avoided your gaze, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally accepting that she wasn't going to explain. You pushed past her and left the room, heading to the living room.

You didn't hear her follow you as you grabbed your coat and began putting on your shoes. As you searched for your keys, you heard Vanessa enter the room and stand in the middle of it, watching you. But you didn't acknowledge her as you grabbed your wallet from the table behind her.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her tone a little more stern.

You ignored her and continued searching for your keys, finally finding them between the couch cushions. You stood up and began walking towards the door, but she grabbed your arm and turned you around forcefully.

"I asked you a question," she glared at you.

You glared back and snatched your arm away, walking past her towards the door. But she followed you, grabbing your arm more harshly this time and turning you around.

"No, you don't get to leave-" she started, but before she could finish her sentence, you had already raised your hand and slapped her across the cheek.

You were shocked at your own actions and immediately regretted it as you saw the red handprint on her cheek. You both stood there in silence and shock before you finally mumbled a quick apology and left.

She eventually made her way back to the bedroom, her heart breaking as she heard your car speed away. If she had stayed just five seconds longer, she would have heard the sound of another car zooming by and a loud crash. If she hadn't fallen asleep just ten minutes later, she would have heard her phone ringing.

But she would see all of that in the morning.

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BRO I HAVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING THIS FIC FOR A WEEK I LITERALLY HAD IT FINISHED JUST NOT EDITED and then i was supposed to post it earlier but im on the phone with some friends BUT FINALLY I POSTED IT also ill post part two sometime this week hopefully ANYWAYS TOODLES🤪✌🏾

[comet-forgot-you]

satisfaction

demon!amber freeman x virgin!reader

summary: you have reoccurring dreams of the same demon and you finally figure out how to get her.

warnings: 18+ pls, smut, fingering, manipulation (??), bath sex, oral, face riding, switch amber, virginity loss, amber’s a little mean. just a little. i think thats all idk i don’t remember.

a/n: hey yallll, long time no see.. finally finished with this, i used google translate so if the latin makes no sense, blame google 😬. it took me like a week to finish but anyways, ITS DONE. ENJOY. do not repost for any reason.

demons used trips to the human world as stress relievers or entertainment. they haunted the dreams of those whole occupied the world and fed off of the fear they felt. it was an activity every demon took part in at some point or another.

amber was amongst those who visited the human world regularly. she found it entertaining, seeing just how easy it was to elicit fear in those who caused it. stumbling into your room was a complete accident, but something about you drew her in, and she couldnt find it in herself to leave.

she knew she was hooked the moment she saw you. calm auras she usually sought to destroy suddenly became something she wanted to preserve.

your dreams soon became tainted with images of a beautiful girl. you longed to meet her, to know her. you fell asleep every night knowing you’d see her, you looked forward to it. only to wake up feeling empty and alone, craving the demon that haunted your dreams. you needed to see her, you needed to feel her, and thats all amber wanted.

amber planned it all out perfectly. months of her manipulating your dreams, showing you how good she could make you feel only to rip it all away at the last minute, forcing you to crave her like she craved you. then she showed you how to get her, and you were quick to follow the ritual she gave you.

steam filled the bathroom, you were wrapped in a towel, watching hot water fill the bathtub. candles littered the dark bathroom, flickering light from the flames painting the walls. worry pooled in the pit of your stomach. you were following a ritual given to you in your dreams, how could you not worry? you could be crazy, all of this, every dream, it could all just be some fucked up fantasy you had curated out of pure loneliness.

despite your worries, you continued to follow the instructions. you turned the water off, slowly dropping your towel. you felt like you were being watched, goosebumps rising on your skin. you glance around the bathroom despite knowing there was no way someone else could be in there without you knowing. you lower yourself into the tub, the hot water burning your skin ever so slightly as you do so. you take a breath, the feeling of eyes on you more prominent than before. you hold onto the edge of the tub in an attempt to ground yourself.

“te quaero, quaere me, te volo, coniunge me. te quaero, quaere me, te volo, coniunge me,” the words fall from your lips, clear and steady despite never saying them before. the candlelights flicker as if a breeze blew through the room. “amber,” the name falls from your lips but its not your voice.

the water level rises, arms snake around your waist and a chin rests on your bare shoulder, firm horns lightly pressing against the side of your head. “finally,” its the same voice that haunts your dream, quiet in your ear. “you want me, baby?” you let out a shaky breath, heat pooling in the pit of your stomach.

you hesitate, the demon that controlled your dreams was here, holding you. months of the same dreams of her, and she was finally here, actually here. “yes,” the word falls from your lips and amber smiles against your skin. her hand trails up your chest, her thumb tracing your nipple. you arch off of her body at the contact, a shaky breath leaving your lips. her other hand trails down your body, spreading your thighs apart. her middle finger grazes your clit and your quick to grab her wrist.

“i’ve never.. you know..” the words escape your lips in an embarrassed whisper. amber presses a kiss against your neck and your tilt your head ever so slightly to allow her more access.

“i know, baby. i promise i’ll be gentle,” she nibbles your ear gently, voice low. as if on queue, her fingers sink into your cunt. you bucking your hips into her palm, allowing yourself to lean back against her while she worked herself in and out of you.

shadows of the two of you dance on the wall with the flickering of light from the candles. you let your head fall back against her shoulder, eyes closed. “you’re so naughty, baby,” amber whispers, “i saw all of those dreams you had, where i fucked you just like this, what a slut.” the words are quiet. every movement amber makes causes the water to ripple, the noise fills you with embarrassment. you open your eyes, taking in her appearance for the first time outside of your dreams. dark circles rested beneath dark eyes, sharp fangs held her bottom lip captive. she was beautiful. her fingers curl inside of you, her thumb moving to rub gentle circles around your clit. you moan at the added pleasure. finding her free hand with your own, you guide it to your boob, squeezing her hand around it.

“please,” you whimper out, your hand dropping from hers, droplets of water splashing onto your chest. amber smiles, twisting your nipple between her fingers.

“so needy, hmm?” she asks. you nod breathlessly, your orgasm fast approaching. you grip onto her thigh as she works you to your high, fingers working effortlessly to do so. amber litters hickeys across your neck, feeling the vibrations of your moans against her lips.

your orgasm hits fast, and if you weren’t so desperate for the demon, you’d be embarrassed about it. amber eases her fingers out of you, pressing gentle kisses over the marks she made on your neck. “one more?” she asks. your eyes are heavy, cunt still pulsing from your orgasm. you nod quickly, not wanting to lose the opportunity. amber smiles at your eagerness.

you sit up, letting her get out of the bath. she grabs a towel, wrapping it around her body as you let the water drain. amber holds a towel out for you, arms around your waist as she wraps the towel around your body. she litters more kisses against your neck as you guide her out of the bathroom.

“wait the candles,” your eyebrows furrow as you turn around in her hold. amber lets out a quiet laugh at your worried tone,

“don’t worry about them, i’ll deal with them,” she mumbles in your neck, guiding you back until your legs hit the bed. her lips are on yours the second your back hits the bed, desperate whines falling from your lips.

amber opens your towel, lips trailing down the expanse of your body. you’re soaked by the time her lips meet your thighs. sharp fangs scrape the skin and it takes everything in you not to buck your hips into the air.

her warm mouth meets your needy cunt before you know it, lips wrapped around your pulsing clit. a loud moan falls from your lips. it was all so new, so fucking good, it was almost too much. her tongue presses flat against the bud and your hands fly to hold onto the base of her horns. amber groans against your cunt, the vibrations eliciting a whimper to fall from your lips.

amber’s mouth detached from your cunt and she looks up at you with blown eyes, eyebrows furrowed in need. “baby.. you can’t..” you tug her back towards your cunt with her horns and a loud moan falls from her lips, her own hips bucking into the mattress. “baby..” she draws out in a whine, her tongue works messily against your cunt, needy whimpers muffled in your cunt at every tug of her horns.

“please..” you whimper out, amber’s arms wrap around your thighs. she knows you’re close, your clit pulses erratically under her tongue. she tries her best to keep herself under control, but every tug at her horns has her closer and closer to her own orgasm. with one final tug at her horns, you’re coming undone on her tongue. she’s quick to lap up your juices, her tongue soon becoming to over stimulating for you.

you push her head away from your cunt, her lust filled eyes meet yours and you can tell she’s still desperate for more. “let me taste you,” you mumble.

“you don’t need to,” she mutters.

“i want to.” your voice is firm and amber’s quick to position herself above your face, her thighs on either side of your head. your arms wrap loosely around her thighs, bringing her down against your tongue.

you circle her clit with your tongue, her hips bucking at the sudden contact. “fuck,” she moans out. your tongue swipes through her folds, prodding at her entrance. amber grinds down against your face, your nose bumping her clit with every roll of her hips. shes a mess above you, her legs struggling to keep herself up.

your hand trails up her body, taking her nipple between your fingers. amber’s head falls back, a loud moan falling from her lips. “fuckfuckfuck,” she mutters. your pick up your pace, desperate to bring her to her high. “sure you’ve never done this before?” amber asks between shaky breaths, her hips desperately bucking against your face. “so fuckin’.. so fuckin’ good for a first timer,” she mutters. you fight the smile that threatens to break out.

amber lets out a loud moan as her orgasm washes through her, her hips slowing down their pace. amber lifts herself off of you, moving to straddle your hips. she leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

for the first time in months, amber was feeding off of strong emotions, and for the first time in her life, it wasn’t fear, it was satisfaction.

[waltricia]

Accidentally wrote another casual essay. If you like thinking about what words mean, this might be of interest. Otherwise, feel free to ignore. It’s mostly just for me. It’s an analysis of a single phrase. And, ultimately, an appreciation of Chris Van Dusen and his team.

Ever since the Bridgerton S3 trailer dropped, I’ve been thinking on and off (currently on) about candles, so I can’t help but notice them in my rewatch. This time, I got stuck on a quote by Portia, which she says in 2x01 at the conservatory ball, “Darkness has been our candle in recent months.” First of all, I’m not taking this very seriously- we’re not meant to- this is a comical scene and she is faking grief in this moment. But I can’t help but try to figure out what this phrase means. I mean, I know what it means- like I said, she’s faking her grief- but how did we get there? Why does it mean that? D’ya know what I mean? Darkness has been our candle. I guess, given the context, I assume the message she’s trying to convey to the Finch’s is that there hasn’t been any light/ happiness in their lives. It’s just been dark/ sad.

But I had a thought- when you refer to something as your candle, you wouldn’t be talking about an unlit candle, right? Because what use is a candle if it’s not lit? The only time a candle is doing something is when it’s burning. So if you’re saying something is your candle, you’re talking about a lit candle. And a lit candle means light and happiness (and attraction in certain other circumstances 😉). So when you say “darkness has been our candle,” aren’t you implying that the darkness has been good?

Ok, so I think I actually really love this line. Because I’m no fan of the late Lord Featherington. He really only ever came across to me as a shit dad and a shit husband. The only time I had any appreciation for him was during 1x01 when he was neglectful enough to not notice or care what Penelope wore to the Vauxhall Ball, which allowed her to dress how she wanted (and everyone knows that was her best look of season 1). So I kinda feel like there could be a bit of intentionality in that phrasing such that the hidden meaning of what Portia is saying is that there was possibly a bit of relief in his absence? 😬 Maybe?

Or at least that the shroud of mourning has been a relief. This would actually make sense because it circles back to the fact that she was faking her grief. She was using it as a stalling tactic. So maybe possibly, the surface meaning is that basically they’ve been grieving, but the secondary meaning, the one meant for the audience, like an inside joke, is that the mourning period has been a blessing and the very thing keeping them afloat.

Am I on to something? If so, that is some pretty clever writing. This show is so surprisingly layered.

It’s also possible this whole analysis makes no sense. Did I just ramble for no reason? If so, I’m sorry. I probably shouldn’t tag this… but I’m going to, just in case anyone out there is as insane about this shit as I am.

[bardic-inspo]

Writer Interview

Playing some catch up on tags. Tagged by the wonderful @pursuitseternal, @marlowethebard, @nyx-knox, @honeybee-bard, @snowfolly,

and @paganwitchisis holy shit thank you all!!

Not sure who all in my circles has done this already, but gonna tag @wilteddreamsofbaldursgate, @astarionancuntnin, @pinkberrytea, @locallegume, @thedreamlessnights,

@ladymdc, and @carooosa if you see this and would like to do it! No worries if not!

When did you start writing?

Around 13/14 years old, doing warrior cats roleplay on proboards forums. Roleplay isn't really my speed anymore, but it eventually bridged me into more traditional narrative writing and then fanfic later. Fallout 4 was the first fandom I really wrote fanfic for.

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I really love intricate long-running plots with slow-burn pay off, and used to write more in that vein, but got pretty burnt out on it. It felt like it would take so long to get to those big moments I pictured the whole time, by the time I arrived to them, they felt played out in my head. Trying to strike a happy medium now by writing (relatively) shorter and more focused fic/storylines that still pack a punch, but maybe have fewer branches.

Otherwise my genre/theme preferences are generally the same with writing vs. reading and are pretty broad.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Not a writer, but I've been told at various times there is a poetical element in a lot of my writing, even in just the sentence structure or how I tend to pace my prose. That makes a lot of sense to me, since I wrote a lot of poetry before getting into writing a lot of prose.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I used too many tricks on my brain to jump start creativity (yummy beverage, cozy blanket, favorite candle when writing) and now my brain often demands all of these things be in place to do any writing 😬I can sometimes get away without all of them. Usually, I'm writing in my office, which is a pretty blue color with some gold picture frames and often a soothing space. But, I do work from home in there at times, too, and on workdays I can't make myself do creative things in the same spot I sat in working all day. Then, I'll be at my dining table or sitting on my couch, usually with headphones because I have a hard time concentrating with other noise around me.

What’s your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Self care. I mean, making sure I've got sleep/food/hygiene etc. squared away where they should be, even if it means taking a break from the page. Most of the time when I'm trying hard to write and it's just not jiving, it's because I've neglected one of those things, and the words always come easier once I've addressed them.

Playing the game again. Listening to character music. Chatting with friends who love the character, too.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Yes! A lot of them became apparent to me only after switching fandoms and realizing I was writing about a lot of similar themes. Grief is a big one. Characters who've experienced both a lack of love and a loss of it. Characters who fall in love again or in spite of that loss. The main ships I've written for all feature characters who either loved someone else first or, in Astarion's case, have gone through the forced motions of romance.

Battle couples is another big one. Bisexual battle couples. 🥰

What is your reason for writing?

It's always felt like something I needed to do to feel whole. Not necessarily the sharing the writing or posting it part, or getting a reaction about it, but doing it at all, even just a little. Even if it's just for me. I feel more me when writing is at least a small part of my life. More free. It's my creative outlet.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I adore any comment. I'm borrowing this from someone else's interview post, but I too am a slut for praise. In all honesty though, just knowing I'm not writing into some void or vacuum can be so powerful. Even just a heart emoji comment makes my spirits soar.

The ones that go full red string and corkboard about the plot or characters, or quote what parts stick out to them always stick with me. It lets me know I'm hitting the mark with what I'm trying to convey.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I want them to know I'm still good for it even if it takes me a long time.💜That's the biggest thing to me right now. I'm not able to pour it out so quickly as others can. But I hope they know it'll be a good time when I do eventually post.

And also that I'm just some lady. I'm just another human bean. Wanting to share and enjoy stories with other human beans, and connect with a sense of community through those stories.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Visceral/punchy action scenes, vivid descriptions, setting tone, and portraying character personalities.

How do you feel about your own writing?

My feelings about it change with the tides. Right now, I'm a bit glum, and I think that's because I haven't had much to share or post lately, even though I've been doing lots of writing that isn't ready to be shared yet. On the other hand, I'm having the most fun with it that I've had in a very long time, and that element feels great.

I'm grateful for what I've done, incredibly blessed to have made friends and found community through writing, and ever-striving to find the happy medium of productivity and creativity.

When you write, are you influenced by what others enjoy might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

It's mostly what I'd like hehe. And I'm happy about that. I am often inspired to try things based on what I see in fandom, but if I don't enjoy it, too, I won't pursue it further.

[garfieldsladybird]

heyyy idk if ur request are on or off and if u still write for timothée. but if you do, i had an idea. so like i think its number 6 and the prompt is “Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?” and the reader is dating timothée and they r at his apartment smoking and he falls asleep before she does and wakes up to her in his shirt

my requests are open so your all good and I will forever write for him!! :)) i love thisss!!! thank you for requesting lovely <333 also sorry it took forever :(( it didn’t have to be this many words but for some reason I just wanted to make it longer.

Cloth | Timothée Chalamet.

timothée x reader. (established relationship)

warnings — words: 1,136. fluff. drugs. marijuana. very detailed about smoking bong hits. smoking a piece of blunt wrap in a bong. blunts have tobacco in it, mentions of tobacco.

a/n: to all my ppl that lay on the right side of the bed im sorry, I had to choose a side and I sleep on the left 😬

Credits -> This is my work. Their ^ idea. Do not plagiarized. Timothée Chalamet is a real human being and I do not know him. This is all fictional. Even if he’s real.

Masterlist, Navigation, Timmy C. List.

It was just one of those lazy days today.

Best days of all days, were you and timothée were just you and timmy, even though that’s an everyday thing with you both, it was a day of no work, no fans, unless you do run into someone when out but no online stuff, and that's it. Just comfort for each other.

The day already passed by, not doing much except smoking, exploring each other’s bodies a few times, going for a walk and ordering some food but it was way too late to order food now, yet the city wasn’t asleep. Being in the city nicknamed ‘The city that never sleeps.’

As of right now, you and timmy were just taking bong hits, relaxing on the bed, and watching a new show on netflix. Today you’ve smoked two blunts and a joint, while also taking bong hits, pen hits, and some dap hits too but that was throughout the day. Now you didn’t have that much weed to roll a joint, barely any to roll a blunt.. especially when all the cones and blunts you have are rolled and there was no point to smoke one right now.

A sharpe sound was heard interrupting the tv as the pink lighter in your hand generated a flame. If you look close enough there was blue at the bottom close to the metal where it was sprouting out from continuing to go into an ombré of orange to yellow in the form of a candle, between the blue and orange, it was clear, see-through surprisingly.

You pull the now lit lighter to the bowl that was full of ground-up weed and a very small piece of a blunt wrap— it was from a leftover roach earlier that day, both of you smoked the weed from the roach so now you were smoking the wrap.

The bong was in your hand over the side table as you lit your herbs on fire and begin to inhale. Covering the carb hole with your thumb, you hear the tv playing but also hear the water bubbling and feeling it drip back down too.

Watching the bowl for a few seconds, a familiar burning sensation in the back of your throat starts building up. Just before it gets too much, you move to uncover the hole and continue to inhale, the air aiding to direct the smoke into your lungs.

You take as much as you could before pulling away, smoke lines come waving through the dark fiery weed from in the bowl. You slowly blow the smoke out, making a small white cloud form in the dark tv lit room.

A grape taste fulls your mouth and the air now smells like it to, and it wasn’t like the medicine grape or the powerade grape flavor but it was in between both of them, tasting better than both in your opinion, the little tobacco in there making it all hit you more. Making the high so much more better.

“mmm, mon amour?” he asked in a mumbled, his face stuffed in a pillow. He looked so pretty. His eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed with his lips in a pout. He was so tired, his arms felt like they could fall off, and he couldn’t open his eyes for shit, he was on the edge od falling asleep but he needed to say something.

“yea?” you ask with a soft smile.

“come to bedddd…”

Turning to him, you see him all snuggled up, going to lay on your side in front of him, your left hand cupping his jaw, just looking at him with a soft look, memorizing his face once more.

“Je t'aime, sleepy.” he mumbles, eyes kind of fluttering open but still closed, yawning before his lips push into a kiss face with him humming, his way of saying ‘i want a kiss.’

“I love you too,” you gave him a peck but he whines when the warmth of your lips leaves his, giving him a few more smiling when you feel his before pulling away, your lips still touching, “go to sleep,” you whisper with a playful smile.

“no, you,” he mumbles, his hand now wrapping around your waist.

“I’ll come to bed with you, I just have to change, okay.” you kiss him before getting up to change, his arm flopping on the bed, the strength he has, not able to hold you down, all because of the high but as you leave he hums disapprovingly, ‘mhm mhmm’.

When you finally climb back into bed, only a few seconds had passed but he was out like a light. As you were going under the covers and turning the tv down in the process, his arm suddenly wraps around your waist, scaring you a little as he pulls you in, gaining his strength in those two minutes. Both of you are now cuddled together with the show still playing, high and asleep, still together.

A beam of light was peeking into the room, it was lightening and warming up the carpet, indicating that the sun was up and above the window, saying it was morning. Not that many birds were chirping, but if the windows were open you would hear them talking beautifully to one another saying good morning to everyone. The cars still making sounds as usual. The city still alive.

The warm ball in the atmosphere has yet to touch the people in the bed. Both still in deep sleep from the night they had, even though that’s an everyday night. on some occasions.

As the hours went by, the morning went higher into the sky, the bright light drifting in the room, going from one place to another, until it shone on the wall above the two lovers from where the rays were glimpsing inwards.

They look beautiful. And peaceful.

He was on his back with you cuddled and laying on him, face in his neck, leg wrapped around his waist, arm on his chest. Like a koala bear.

Disturbing the peaceful air in the room, Timmy grumbles as he rolls over, gently to not disturb you. Now laying more on you, he breathes you in, yawning before giving you a few pecks on the neck. He gets your usual smell but also gets the scent of his too. Lifting his head up a little, he looks down and sees his shirt on you. As soon as he sees that a smile rises up and he buries his face in your neck.

Soon enough you started waking up from the kisses. you cuddle into his chest, he responds by holding you even more. Breathing him in, you lift head a little, yawning you see he’s awake. “morning,” you say quietly, with a very tired smile.

“morning my love,” he says quietly too, voice raspy, with a pleasant smile, before kissing your forehead. You respond with a hum and smile on your face, leaning more into him.

“is that my shirt?” he says quietly in your ear with the teasing voice in a smirk.

Still tired, you slowly open your eyes, quickly looking down at your shirt, you look up, making eye contact with him “oh, um. you mean our shirt..?” you end your question with a smirk.

‎© 𝗀𝖺𝗋𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗅𝖺𝖽y𝖻𝗂𝗋𝖽. 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾!!

[sluttery-withoutshame]

So I’m writing a fanfic and I feel like everyone is going to dive in thinking it’s going to be a fully depraved slutfest, but it’s actually a long slow burn. (Some might say like a candle.)

And now I feel too scared to publish it. 😬

[eclectic-sassycoweyes]

#listen that line better not be like from the finale or the penultimate episode or something#i will lose my shit#<- was thinking that same exact thing#pleeaase put this in like e5 At The Latest!! and let us have some canon happy husbands before the end 🥺#please please please please !!!

let us cast a spell mar

Hi Tessa (Sorry I had to go to sleep at some point last night but)

Yeeess!! Listen I will learn all kinds of sorcery imaginable to make this happen.

Let’s:

1) Cast spells

2) light candles and burn wood

2) lay down tarots and adopt a black cat (or ask Andie if she will let us recruit Ajax) @paperstorm

3) hide under floorboards and in the suers

4) summon demons

4) stir up potions and travel back in time and force feed them to the writers

- this first one is called ‘happy domestic husbands lovin’ on, taking care of each other and f*cking like rabbits in the Tarloft Shower🥰🥰’

- And THIS ONE is a lil' thing I like to call ‘If You Kill Off Grace You💀- or maybe just.. have to put on wet shoes for the rest of your like and smell like armpit out of your mouth’ and it’s a potion that, upon consuming it, makes you take an unbreakable vow to not kill off The Queen!!!

-Yes you ! I humbly bow down.

- This one is very awesome too - it’s called ‘terms of endearment’ and when stirring it, at the end, you have to say the words you want to hear.. “muñequito, tesoro, mi amor, mi vida, my love, husband, cariño,….. HUBBY” 👀😶‍🌫️😬🤣

- And then there is This One! It’s special made for ABC and other networks and is called ‘make ABC buy and adopt Lone Star and give us moorreee’ - as you can maybe see it’s a very fickle thing and tricky to make though, lots of risk for the one who makes it to become delusional with hope… but if you make it right… 👀 anyway.

The point is:

I will gladly RUN AROUND NAKED in a circle until september 23'rd to make these things come true and get AS MUCH HAPPY HUSBANDS AS POSSIBLE AND A WELL ROUNDED ARC FOR ALL AND GRACE BEING ALIVE AND WELL AND STILL MARRIED TO JUDD !!!!

[mercymccann]

Okay, so I just wanna see if this is just me because I have a feeling that it’s not.

Have y’all ever like studied something for school and it makes you think of a character like from your favorite book show etc.( for me it’s anime characters)

Then you put the characters name next to what it is and then it helps you remember what your studying as like a quick jog your memory.

For example, I shit you not I’m in nursing school there’s been plenty of different references of characters that I’ve wrote on my notes , but the most recent for this semester I’ve covered burns. My notes word for word say.

“TYPES OF BURNS

• thermal burns (Todoroki)

-> exposure to heat dry-> flame ( candles, cigarettes playing with matches)

-> exposure to moist-> steam/hot liquids/scald ( Hot tap water, pot of boiling water😬)

-> most common common type of burn injury/most often affect children/older adults

-> Burns are the most common in infants”

[shatterthefragments]

🌸🐝🍯🌧️🎶

Pink flower what is your favorite flower

Ooh. Lily and amaryllis come to mind. I’ve tried many a time to grow lilies. They died. The ones that come back every year without anyone planting them are nice though!!

Peonies too! (One day I’ll be able to draw them in the illustrative style I want to!!)

I’m sure there are others that I just straight up can’t think of AND do not know the names of. I just point when I see them and go FLOWER 😍💖 (I’ve included a few I like that I’ve taken at the bottom 😘)

But also: favourite to do on cakes: has to be the classic rose (also the easiest at this point bc of how many I’ve done. Love rose nails that allow us to do roses. Hate washing them (it’s. Not that bad).)

Bee describe my aesthetic in emojis

💖🫂🖤✍🏼🧜🏼🤷🏻🦊🍃🎍🌑🌊🍓🍋🫙🥟🚣‍♂️🎷🪈🎻🎼🥁🎸🪗⛵️🛶🚉⛲️🏯🏕️🏔️💿🗜️🕰️⏳🕯️🪚🧺🖌️📓📒📖📚🗂️✒️✏️🔇🔔🥀🪷🌲🌳🐦‍🔥🦦🐁🐈‍⬛🦙🦭🐙

But that was me going through all of them. If I summarize:

💖🖤✒️🪈🌊🫂🫙🗜️

Honey describe my favourite smell

Thinks. There are quite a few smells I enjoy now. But. Spiced apple and spiced apple cider/juice. I think that may be my favourite 💖🥰. For sure 💖 (one of the candles I can’t bear to burn that I just leave open for the scent is mulled cider and cinnamon!)

Honourable mentions to lemon, soup, libraries/old bookshops, forests, especially after rain, the ocean, seaweed, most of the time- fish, cats, clean dogs, and fresh sheets (that being said I’m also very scent sensitive too so it’s a balance. Sometimes I gag at the best. Sometimes I really love my favourite scents. Who knows!)

Rain clouds favorite thing to do on a rainy day

If I’m in the city with a Classical Chinese garden, one of my favourite things to do is sit there in a covered area of the garden and ideally draw and listen to the rain and watch it run down the roof tiles and watch it make ripples on the pond and observe the beauty of it all 🥰 (I swear I used to have some photos from the rain on my old phone probably but alas I can’t find them)

If I’m at home, staying all bundled in blankets in bed with the window open 💖

If I’m out and doing things it *has to be* MY CHOICE or I don’t like getting wet if I didn’t choose to. :(

If it was my choice though I like to go to the beach if I have some time :) (only applicable if I drove there or walked a short distance from a set bus stop but only a preferred one I’m already familiar with.)

Music notes favourite song right now?

Well. Miss Darya @moonchild-in-blue has inspired Exploring Birdsong’s Turntail to probably be my current favourite!, 😁 (currently #5 despite listening to only it for. Several days straight now)

But also. Honourable mentions to my recent loops:

Bad Omens’ Dethrone and Kingdom of Cards (currently #1)

Sleep Token’s Shelter (#2) and Telomeres (15) and Blood Sport (7)

And the Aqua Regia Chunt Chunes remix (3) 😬✌️✨ …also Emily Hopkins’ Abelha of course 😌 (it’s #4 on repeat still!!)

[mollymagician]

New chapter of Translation of the Dream is up.

(Finally 😬)

They walked along the river. The wind was cutting. Hob mourned the fact that he’d launched out the door with a mystical fucking banana peel in his pocket but left his hat and gloves behind. Dream walked silently beside him, looking like he didn’t feel the cold at all and somehow simultaneously like the most resigned of human popsicles, hands jammed into his coat pockets and collar turned up against the wind. Hob wished again for his gloves, at least, for a completely different reason.

They walked in silence another half block farther before Dream blurted out, “I wished to. Apologize.”

Hob looked at him, feeling the confusion plain on his face. “What in the world for?”

“For what happened that day. At the pub.”

“What, for making me think I was having a complete mental break?” Hob asked. Dream made a small distressed noise, drowned out as Hob plowed on. “Forgiven. Or for embarrassing a dickhead who was harassing my staff? No apology necessary for that, mate.”

“Hob.”

“Earned you free drinks for life as far as I’m concerned.”

Dream’s expression was pained. Hob knew he could inspire that look on just about anyone when he really got going with the razzing, but this had an extra edge it it. Dream huffed impatiently and it curled away in the chill like dragon’s breath. “It was wrong of me. To…lose my composure. I promised I’d never again…” He looked away out over the glinting dark water and hunched down further into the shelter of his woefully inadequate coat.

Hob lifted an eyebrow. “If that was you losing your composure, I’d hate to see what happens when you get properly pissed off.”

“Yes,” Dream said quietly. “You would.”

Okay, then. Hob’s mouth clicked shut and he looked straight ahead down the pavement. He was wildly out of his depth, here, and he knew it. But. He’d spent so much of his life already throwing himself into things without knowing if he would ever touch bottom, so why start now?

“Make it up to me,” he said.

Dream’s eyes flew to his face, wide and blank.

“You wanted to apologize? Make it up to me by telling me what it was I saw.”

They’d stopped walking, he realized. Dream turned to face him, gaze locked to his. It was the longest stretch of unbroken eye contact that they’d shared and Hob felt it like a charge up his spine. Whatever it was Dream was looking for, he must have found, because after a moment he tipped his head to the side and said, “This way.” Once again Hob was following.

They crossed into a narrow lane between the nearest two buildings, thankfully out of the wind. The way opened into a small common yard between three blocks of flats, shabby but clean. An elderly fountain stood in the center, looking like it had been dry for a long time. Someone had perched a pair of candles in tall glass holders on the edge, burned down far enough to stay lit in the wind that occasionally still made its way into the sheltered space.

Dream folded his gangly frame to sit on the edge of the fountain and Hob did the same, gazing around them curiously. They were alone. The windows around them were mostly dark, a few reflecting flickering late-night screen glow. He wanted to ask. Which one is yours? You know the way to my door, can I know the way to yours? The curiosity burned like a coal, but he knew better.

Dream puffed out a breath, curling steam, and said, “I can make things. Real. When I draw them with my hands.”

Hob blinked.

Dream reached into his battered satchel and drew out his sketchbook. Flipping it open, he took up the pencil that was jammed in like a bookmark and began to softly sketch. “I discovered that I was had the…ability…when I was young enough to be foolish but old enough to know it was strange. Keeping the knowledge to myself was, perhaps, the least foolish thing I have ever done.”

It was the most that Hob had heard him say at one go, as though the words had been piling up as they walked together in silence, and now he had a queue waiting to work it’s way out. It was easier to mark, now that there was more of it, how oddly formal his speech was. He spoke like he moved, as though every word needed to be set down carefully, or something would break. Hob watched his fingers guiding the pencil in careful strokes over the paper. The streetlights were too far, it was too dark in the faint flickering light of the candles to see what he was drawing. “How…did you figure it out?” he asked, slowly.

“I drew a raven,” Dream said. “And it flew off the page in front of me

“Oh,” Hob said. Of course, I hate it when that happens was right behind it but he beat the words back with a mental stick.

“I saw her…I supposed it to be a her…outside my window. Nearly every day. She must have been nesting nearby. I thought she was interesting. I’d never seen one marked before like she was—“ he gestured with his opposite hand at his own chest, the first nearly casual movement Hob had seen him make—“with white banding her chest. I drew her, one day, as carefully as I could. I wished I could…” He stopped, and the pencil stopped. Hob watched him stare down past the paper, into the dark at his feet.

“I wished I could be with her, somehow. I wished I could be free like she was.”

The way he said it made something curl nervously in Hob’s gut.

The soft scratching of the pencil picked back up again. “I’ve learned how it…works…over the years. It’s easier when the image is. True to life. But.” Hob could see him turning the words over in his mind. Keeping the knowledge to myself whispered back through his mind, and he almost jumped in, almost told him to stop, that he didn’t need to know. But it would have been an enormous lie. He did need to know. He’d never burned to know anything the way he did this. Not knowing would drive him completely mad.

Dream said, “There has to be. A desire. To create or have the thing. I can intend to make a thing I do not want, but it won’t work without the desire to have it. Or. To gift it. To someone.” Now Hob could see what he’d drawn. It was a poppy, he realized, perfectly rendered in spare, clean lines. Dream dropped the pencil and let it roll into the gutter of the book. Long fingers touched the page, were still for a moment, and then there was that strange little gesture. Even this close it was hard to follow.

Dream lifted his hand and held the flower out, offering it to Hob with a look as though he expected to be bit.

Hob took it gingerly in one hand. Scarlet, heavy with pollen. Real. The page was blank.

“Christ,” Hob whispered. “That is…incredible.”

Dream’s expression softened and his gaze dropped his knees. “I suppose you could say so.”

“You suppose?” Hob sputtered. “I just…you…” He blew out a long, long breath, until he was empty, then drew it back in through his nose. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Dream replied, softly.

“Yeah.” Hob toyed with the poppy. “So, what, does this run in your family? Your da knew how to talk to animals or…?”

For a long moment the only sound was the distant din of traffic from down the street. “Perhaps. I don’t know,” Dream said, slowly. “I do not know my biological parents.”

Of course, Hob thought. Christ. He wasn’t sure his gob could handle being any more smacked this evening, but he had the sinking feeling that they weren’t done. Bracing himself, he said, “Sounds like there’s a story there.”

Dream opened his mouth, struggling with his words again. Hob just barely caught his lips trembling and almost regretted prodding, but what was done was done.

Dream asked, slowly, “Do you recall the name Roderick Burgess?”

[iwanthermidnightz]

i have like a dozen of those capri blue anthro candles. they're the BEST. i love to give and receive them as gifts, but am not impressed if a multimillionaire is giving it as a gift to a billionaire 😂 (assuming that's what we're supposed to believe or spread like wildfire)

is that the story? just— 😬

and here i am still milking my $76 (now $84) le labo santal 26 candle from two years ago. it doesn’t burn well tbh. guess capri blue is next on my list!

[beautifulpersonpeach]

I have really truly loved all of NewJeans releases, downloaded Phoning but am too old to be bothered with it (sorry gals) and even would suggest I’m a “Bunny” to a degree, though I don’t have the time to really invest in their content beyond the music. But I was disappointed with this latest release, I find the songs pretty forgettable - with the exception of “bubble, BUBBLE, Bubble, bubble” part — I’ve been in Korea for the last couple weeks and am staying till mid June for work and I do hear the songs being played by stores and heard on the streets but then I kinda immediately forget them 😬. I had to wonder if *some* of MHJ’s ‘whistleblowing’ was knowing she was about to put out a less-than-stellar record of b-sides and that she was angry that Illit got Magnetic? Tbf, if IVE or like, idk, Kep1er (that 1 in the name cracks me up) had gotten Magnetic it would have done super well because it’s just that catchy. Not to knock the Illit girls themselves and the rest of their EP is enjoyable to be sure but not the pop-gold of Magnetic. But again, music is subjective - maybe it’s just me who isn’t catching on with How Sweet. It could be the backbeat makes me think I’m at the roller rink in 1993 at summer camp but still not as catchy as the actual songs from back then.

*

Ask 2:

Same anon who sent the ask about How Sweet & Bubble not being quite catchy enough — honestly maybe the other thing is that I have LOST! (And really all of RPWP) stuck in my head and my poor brain only has the bandwidth for one earworm at a time! 😅

***

It's unfair to compare anything to RPWP.

The NewJeans girls are sweet. They make good music. But nothing they've released so far holds a candle to the magic that is RPWP. There are some people who think the hype around Namjoon’s intelligence is overdone, and like I've said before, there was a time I was skeptical about if he actually knew what he was talking about. But that was years ago and he continues to vindicate the belief I have in his abilities as an artist. Acid jazz, psychedelic rock, Fuji music, new school funk, Korean hiphop - all of that seamlessly combined in a contemporary fusion jazz album, all of it his own creation, made with artists he personally selected and respects. Namjoon is very much worth the hype. He makes music that makes my blood burn.

And yeah Lost is stuck in my head too, the bass sequence on Lost reminds me of the sequence on Pharrell's Happy.

That said, I think How Sweet is my favourite track from NewJeans since New Jeans (the song). And funnily enough, I like it for kinda similar reasons to why I love RPWP: the song is avant garde for k-pop and takes interesting risks. And I frankly just like what I hear.

For example, the genre and bassline. How Sweet is in the Miami Bass genre, one of the more niche sub-genres to break out from 90s hiphop. It never really took on, which might be why it makes you "think I’m at the roller rink in 1993 at summer camp but still not as catchy as the actual songs from back then." G-funk, East-West Coast, and Gangta Rap genres got more popular while only a handful of Miami Bass tracks were hits. In fact the only Miami Bass song I (vaguely) remember from back then was Tootsie Roll (I didn't even fully remember the title of the song, I had to google it lol). ADOR could've made another song in the trap genre since that's a more popular Y2K hip hop creation, and their last song in that genre (OMG) was a hit anyway.

But no. They went with a fairly obscure expression of 90s hip hop, which I think shows the depth of knowledge and appreciation for the that era that either ADOR, Min Heejin, or their producer 250, has. NewJeans don't seem to be doing Y2K-type sounds for the fun of it or just because it's on trend, else they could've easily gone for something more mainstream or more modern/popular takes on that era, like Magnetic. To me, How Sweet shows ADOR is very deliberate in their exploration of nostalgia, and in that way they are the antithesis to what is typical in modern k-pop. [Ironically, Min Heejin's whistleblower report (linked here) explicitly called out the sub-par quality of HYBE's operations teams which I believe includes their A&R team (and I agree btw). And Min appears to be mostly responsible for A&R at ADOR, so in reality, it's unlikely Magnetic would've been a song she'd release, but it's still identical enough to NewJeans' sound to support her concerns about Belift and HYBE].

Also, to my ears it sounds like 250 tweaked the bassline in How Sweet to keep it centered in the mix with the synths, something I feel is innovative given the MB songs I've listened to have the bass more forward in the mix. The topline melody is also soothing over the high-energy instrumental, making it feel nostalgic, but fresh. Like, I'd rather listen to How Sweet than Tootsie Roll to that point, but just like RM's RPWP, it's a song that's strange for k-pop. It shouldn't sell, it's risky, but it works because the artists have already established an identity.

In my opinion lol.

I totally sympathize with you finding How Sweet to be underwhelming though. I've had similar conversations with some friends for both Namjoon and NewJeans' latest releases. If my guess is right about NewJeans, they'll continue their intentional/methodic exploration of nostalgic sounds and concepts, meaning for some people it will quickly become a snoozefest. And of course that's totally fine. Personally, I enjoy it.

[mikereads]

“I’m terrified of roller coasters” Um…

“It’s not too late. We can turn around and leave her now.” Wow Eddie what a heterosexual thing to say….👀 but seriously Eddie break up with her already. Seriously there is always a little truth inside a joke just saying. Also it’s just about s’mores which in itself is odd she’s never had. Like everything else about her is off.

“You two aren’t going anywhere”… wtf like yes it’s a joke but literally no the way this scene was so awkward like everything was said aloud how they truly felt but said in a joke so it’s okay… right 😬…. Yeah no Eds! Also damn girl leave them alone he’s not that into you Jesus. Eddie/Ana had no chemistry so to say Eddie has even less with Marisol is saying something there is literally nothing there not even like oh a good friends vibes and we are supposed to think they are dating… no ma’am. If someone told me they just met and were strangers I’d believe it. This little game also proved he knows nothing about her… you don’t know me huh you don’t say.

Also the way she hugged them like girl let my boys go but also wtf loosen your grip. Like this is literally Marisol with Eddie and Chris

I know they won’t last but the way they are trying so hard and making it even more awkward. Also the forces laughs like Eddie sweetie 🥴 no just no

“Everything’s fine I promise” he says as he lies through his teeth. Like okay I’m not gonna lie not a fan of this storyline seeing someone that’s identical to his dead ex wife sorry not sorry it’s way to soap opera to me but if it gets Eddie to realize they had a bad relationship/ marriage and stop romanticizing it okay good finally like enough

Also I’m sorry but people saying Ryan and the actress that plays Shannon has chemistry like where? Is the chemistry in the room with us because nope. Eddie and Shannon were never good together/ supposed to be together but now this proved that they don’t have good chemistry even outside of the characters because now she’s someone else and well it ain’t it. (Yes I’m biased I don’t want Eddie with anyone but Buck but the two can coexist)

“Are you looking for anything specific? I’m not sure” the way this says so much about where Eddie is in his life and what he wants. Also she’s so freaking corny like yes she’s making a sale but also um no pls stop

This is our best selling candle it smells like nothing and coasts a hundred bucks it might also burn your hand but whatever

“Do you trust me? I don’t know you.” Like I know this is supposed to mean something big to Eddie and it cuts deep on the trust thing but also this relatively is just a woman trying to make a sale because she’s a sales woman and this isn’t Shannon so it’s honestly really just him getting closure and sorry can’t help but remind me of Buck and Abby and how she can back in s3 but also how he got with Taylor because she reminded in of Buck 1.0 in s2 but also reminded him of Abby because of her red hair (absolutely nothing else)

“Oh no uh just me and my son Christopher. Single dad” literally just proved in one scene, sentence that him and Marisol are done literally giving her the Ana just friend treatment and worse cause he didn’t even mention her at all and the sales woman gave him the opportunity when asking who he was shopping for a friend or girlfriend etc…

It’s also interesting how this episode has so many call backs. Maddie and the call which goes back to Doug (more on that) also the call she had in s3 and how she flinched when Chim placed a hand on her shoulder.

Maddie and Eddie having flashbacks of there abusive exs and yes it’s different abuse but still

Them recreating the Eddie/Shannon sex scene is sick I can’t 🤮 I barely wanted to watch it the first time around but the significance to Eddie. Still sneaking around but for a very different reason. I swear if he has her sneak out the same way I’m done. Like so many thoughts not only is he trying to relive and romanticize what they had but he also knows his current relationship is bad for him so not only is he trying to ruin it on purpose but he’s going back to bad behavior and this time it not only adds another level to it cause he’s actually cheating but so much as happened since then.. like she died! And it’s not her - oh wait it’s him imaging it as he sits with her which somehow makes it even worse?

Eddie it wasn’t incredible stop lying and yes it was unexpected sir wtf but also the way this sort of in a way mocks the storyline the first time around and how him sleeping with Shannon the first time around was unexpected not in the way of storytelling it’s sadly been done so many times but for Eddie it was unexpected

“When no one else is home!!!” Did I call it or what huh

“Recreating the moment? Looking for a new wife” oh come on especially out of context. Which ends in a car crash oh come on. Tim did this all on purpose to remind us of who Shannon actually was and not Eddie’s romanticized version of her. ( clarifying she wasn’t as bad as Doug or this guy but she also wasn’t good) for the last time stop comparing how she left to how Eddie left it isn’t the same thing

Buck slamming the guy to the floor must have been cathartic.

Good Cop vs Bad cop callback but also to have a Henren family scene to then go to the Buckley-Diaz family I see you show

Henren family scene > Buckley Diaz > Madney family scene really oh come on

Oh Eddie back to your old mistakes. Sorry but this just proves him and Marisol will be over before the season is over. We knew they were breaking up but now we have an idea it won’t be prolonged until next season or….