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itsbuckytm · 4 months

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Catton's Little Puppet / Oliver Quick & Felix Catton

summary: Oliver had harbored a long-standing obsession with both the reader and Felix. Despite his discomfort at witnessing the two together, he saw it as a chance to strategically earn their trust in an unconventional manner. It was an opportunity for Felix to potentially welcome him into their partnership, transforming the dynamic into a trio where they would all be equals, yet each holding a unique role—masters entwined in the intricate dance of their own puppetry.

ps: English is not my primary language, so I apologize for any errors or mistakes. If you choose to use or replicate my work without proper credit, it may be subject to being flagged.

tag list: @bananzaa @sisgotdemons enjoy!

Oliver hated everything about you when you two first met.

Oliver hated the way your hips seamlessly moved to the rhythm of the music. Your smile captured the essence of every words from the songs you knew by heart. As you clutched the now-empty beer cup, poised to pour another for yourself, Felix's arm effortlessly wrapped around your waist. In a swift motion, he pulled you to his side, mirroring the smile Oliver had admired the first time actually meeting Felix. Oliver couldn't help but think that if he averted his gaze for even a second, Felix's and your lips would meet. The scene drew him back into the room later that evening, only for Felix and you to vanish until the sunrise.

Oliver hated when, the next day, you walked into class looking all polished and preppy. Although he knew that it was only an illusion, as you had once shared with him that it was simply a matter of practice. Even suggesting he follow suit that same morning. During Oliver's first week, you didn't have much information about him, like everyone. Oliver had found himself completely withdraw by your beauty upon entering on that same morning when you arrived late– clearly hungover from the homecoming of the school’s first day and an obvious amount of hickeys left from Felix. How Oliver wanted his to also be marked through Felix’s.

Oliver hated witnessing your interactions with Felix. Typically, he would pay no attention if it were any other girls, but there was something about you that intrigued him. It all truly began when Felix introduced you to him on the same evening after borrowing Oliver's bike. "So, you're the faithful hero who saved Felix. But in the end, who can resist such charm, am I right, dear?" That marked the second time Oliver had heard your voice, yet this time it felt genuine – natural and almost too angelic to let go until its last breath. “Oh, right! Where are my manners? I'm Y/N. And you?”

“Oliver, but you can call me Ollie.” He said without insistence, a departure from his earlier encounters with Felix in person. A surge of confidence enveloped him, particularly as you extended your hand for a proper handshake, a gesture Felix took delight in complimenting, deepening Oliver's infatuation. “And thanks to Y/N's wonderful parents for bringing such a polite daughter into the world.” Oliver, if he had the courage, would have agreed wholeheartedly, envisioning a passion and intensity in a kiss that rivaled Felix's. However, the reality weighed on Oliver, when he heard your beautiful voice once more. “Oh, stop it. Felix has a way with compliments smoother than butter. But I'll remember your gratitude, Ollie.”

And he did remember to. How you would lean in to give him a peck on the cheek. Not that he was special, considering the fact that you always did that whoever you had meet. Nonetheless, for Oliver it meant something more, something that he too would be able to feel, to feel that same love you have for Felix just as you would for Oliver.

Being in proximity to Felix and his circle of friends was coveted by many at the school, and an invitation to Saltburn was a sought-after opportunity. Unless someone had established connections within the group, receiving an invitation was usually contingent on existing friendships. Such was the anticipation for Oliver, who found himself in this situation when Felix enthusiastically proposed the idea of inviting him. It wasn't merely an act of gratitude; rather, it stemmed from Oliver's generosity in lending his bike to a stranger, who had now become a valued friend to him.

Upon your arrival, Oliver caught sight of you standing alone. From the outset, what captivated him was your independence; you didn't always rely on Felix's wealth, and you had a sense of self that wasn’t easily spoiled. “Ollie!” You exclaimed, swiftly kicking off your overly tight heels and dashing towards him. You cupped his face and planted quick pecks all over, leaving him delighted by the touch of your moisturized lips on his cheek. But quickly caught up by someone’s chuckle echoing in a distance. “Jesus, Y/N. You're going to suffocate the poor thing.” Remarked Venetia, welcoming the playful scene with a teasing tone. She observed Oliver's reaction to your enthusiastic greeting, as a way to make the new comer even more relentless of his own. As soon as you released from him, you excused yourself from the exuberance and headed towards the Catton's mansion. “She's a firecracker, this one. Quite surprising that she's into nerds. I wonder what Felix will think.” She mused with a smirk.

Felix's potential thoughts were the constant contemplation in Oliver's mind during the initial days of his stay at the Catton residence. Beyond that, he marveled at how effortlessly open and welcoming you were, despite having only briefly connected during your time in school. While he appreciated the sound of your voice and the way you interacted with him and Felix, it was observing you in quiet moments that truly captivated Oliver. This fascination grew into an unexpected and almost unbelievable obsession, especially considering his initial attraction to Felix. The idea of being paired with anyone else was inconceivable, yet, over time and thanks to Venetia's indiscretions, Oliver discovered that you and Felix were in an open relationship, a decision made to explore new dynamics. You had said. What Oliver didn't know, among the many selected for this unconventional pairing, was that he would be the chosen one.

“You think this is a good idea?” You questioned one morning, adorned in your favorite gown, a cup of coffee in hand, awaiting breakfast as a drowsy Oliver entered the room. “Don't worry.” Felix reassured, leaning in close with his lips almost grazing the crook of your neck. His fingers traced a playful path around your waist, eliciting a chuckle from you at his teasing. "Remember when you said you wanted to fuck a nerd this year? Well, he's all yours." Felix declared confidently, causing a subtle blush to tint your cheeks. “But also yours too, don't forget.” You reminded him. As much as Felix hesitated to acknowledge his feelings, he too harbored an attraction to Oliver. The catch, however, was Felix's love for control. Witnessing you with Oliver was, in fact, more thrilling for him than you might have anticipated.

Upon Oliver's entrance, a palpable tension filled the room as he observed Felix already standing close to you, a subtle fear gripping him that his presence might disrupt the connection you shared. Foolish man you are. Oliver would mutter to himself whenever he glimpsed the slightest hints of Felix's protective or controlling demeanor, not just towards you but anyone. Dismissing the notion, he decided to join both of you for breakfast, putting on a smile as he noticed the exclusive trio occupying the mansion today. “Where is everyone?” Oliver was the first to inquire, scanning the surroundings, even the garden, to find no one but the three of you. The idea began to dawn on you that this could be the perfect setting for something a bit more adventurous, something spicy involving all three. Innocently shrugging, you played along, and Felix couldn't help but laugh at your little game. “Haven't seen them, probably still in their beds, completely oblivious from last night's revelry. Wouldn't be surprised. What a shame to miss a beautiful breakfast with such lovely companions.”

What a shame, indeed, thought Oliver, his gaze penetrating yours as he found himself momentarily lost, only to be brought back by the server serving him a cup of coffee. He awkwardly thanked the server, prompting laughter from both Felix and you at his clumsiness. “You know,” Felix began, his confidence evident, especially when it came to matters of relationships and involving others. “Y/N and I have been... intrigued by you, you know? Perhaps attracted to how quickly you became part of our group. But a little bird told me that she's really drawn to you. Maybe if she had the courage to tell you instead of resorting to these daunting tasks.” Felix said casually, causing you to gasp in response to his unexpected comment. Despite your initial shock, you quickly realized he meant no harm or shame. In fact, Felix wanted Oliver to express his feelings – emotions that could harmonize with yours and eventually be shared behind closed doors.

"Do I happen to know this little bird?" Oliver quipped, his gaze shifting between the two of you with a hint of surprise. Even though he already knew who Felix was referring to, Oliver decided to play along, much to Felix's delight, as he too wanted to please his friend. Felix nodded in acknowledgment. “Certainly, and if I may say so myself, she has a penchant for the nerdy type. However, she seems to be enjoying this new side of him much more recently.” Felix admitted openly, his arm remaining securely around your waist. He was well aware of the complexities of a polyamorous relationship, but if it meant your happiness and the joy of seeing you smile, it was all he could do. Plus, it certainly added to Oliver's amusement in seeing a different facet of Felix.

"Keep it discreet." You whispered to Felix, who, in response, leaned in so uncomfortably close that your words seemed almost ignored. This added an enticing and thrilling dynamic to your relationship. At that precise moment, Felix rose from his chair and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. “Behave now. For me– and for Ollie.” He advised, leaving you feeling utterly defenseless in the hands of someone who had evolved into an obsession similar to the initial intensity when you both first met. Your pout, intended as a defense mechanism, only seemed to amuse Felix, prompting him to gently cup your face. He teasingly bit at your lower lip, evoking a soft whine before he kissed you. “If anything happens, call me, okay? I won't be far away.” He assured you with a softer and more passionate tone, shifting his gaze from yours to acknowledge Oliver with a nod. Ultimately, Felix's interactions with Venetia were not entirely unfamiliar to Oliver, especially when it meant being alone with the most captivating woman in all of Saltbun.

Oliver had carefully chosen his outfit for the occasion, opting for a stylish blue t-shirt that complemented his complexion. In an attempt to break the ice between you two, you remarked it so lively starting with the missing glasses. “I see someone ditched their glasses.” Noting his uneasy glances from side to side, as if hiding something. However, upon hearing your voice, his gaze softened, and he offered a gentle smile, reminiscent of the one he gave Felix when they first met. “Glasses are so last season anyway. Prefer the contact lenses.” He casually remarked, initially giving the impression of a more reserved demeanor than you had originally perceived. This perception lingered, especially during moments when it was just the two of you alone. However, recent events, including spending a night at Farleigh's room and Oliver recounting what he had witnessed, left you uncertain about whom to trust. Consequently, you rose from your chair and approached him. His adorable gasp was the only sound as he watched your sudden movement. “What... are you doing?” he asked, stuttering mid-sentence.

“Nothing…” You casually said to him although it was quite the obvious as you leaned to sat on his lap. His fingers trying his best to mimic Felix’s as you hushed him not to do so but to do it like how he did it to Venetia. Which at first surprised him because he began to think that you knew about it too– but you had said nothing to him since that event. After all– it was a game that Felix and you wanted. Turned out however that it was both Felix and Oliver who wanted you. To be their puppets as the masters take charge to their own demise, sadistic pleasure. Although contracting themselves perfectly, it was one of the many reasons why you had though Oliver to be fascinated in the first place. “Just admiring you.” Was what you said to him next, before continuing as you gently touched the collar of his shirt.

“Make me love like you never have before—a love you've been craving since you arrived here. I know your little game, Ollie. We all do.” You whispered, leaning even closer until your lips grazed his, your hand cupping the side of his jawline. In that moment, you took charge, reversing the dynamics of control. However, the atmosphere shifted abruptly when your final confession made Oliver tense. His muscles stiffened, and his fingers gripped your waist, guiding you onto the table, rendering your body completely at his mercy. Gently crawling on top of you, a cocktail of excitement, lust, and a desire to submit to him filled the air. “Then..” He said softly, lifting your lacy gown casually and placing a few kisses before continuing. “I'll make sure you don't have to remember it, Princess. I’ll fuck you until your screams for more are heard at an even distance.” His eyes barely left you as your head leaned back, moans escaping your lips. However, before you could fully respond, Oliver's gaze intensified with each kiss, and he uttered. “I want you to say my name, just like you do for Felix's. Say that you are mine and mine alone.”

“Yes, I'll do anything you ask.” You affirmed. Your eyes pleaded, craving to be cherished and made to feel like a loved woman once more. It wasn't that Felix wasn't providing that, but the allure of someone unknown, a complete stranger, added an extra layer of excitement. “Make love to me as if you've never experienced anyone before. Have me begging for you until the break of dawn. I want your marks all over me, Ollie.” You confessed. With those words, Oliver eagerly removed his shirt, hunger evident in his desire to kiss every inch of your skin. Starting from your inner thighs, you couldn't help but release a soft giggle as you felt his tongue slowly traveling down.

However, there was one crucial detail both of you remained oblivious to – Felix had meticulously orchestrated this entire scenario, intending it to unfold as an exclusive spectacle for himself. His curiosity lay in observing Oliver's actions when left alone with all of you. Yet, the setup lacked a crucial element: Felix himself. Mere miles away, Felix sensed a tightening sensation in his groin beneath his pants. His fingers delicately caressed the sensation, attempting not to draw attention to himself. Seizing the opportune moment, he approached quietly as your back remained turned, your arms securely wrapped around Oliver's neck. As he neared, Felix gently untangled your shoulders, skillfully removing every piece of clothing he could manage before eliciting a surprised gasp from you. “Fe—”But Oliver's lips silenced you, a deliberate move to divert attention. Even though Oliver feigned ignorance of Felix's game, he too realized it was just a matter of finally being alone together – a scenario briefly alluded to by Felix before arriving in Saltburn. “Shh, Princess. Remember, he’s all yours.” Had Felix said upon continuing to admire your fully undressed body.

In that moment, you realized you belonged entirely to both Oliver and Felix. They came as a combined package, a connection deeper and more intricate than anyone in Saltburn could fathom. Following the encounter at the pool, the three of you continued these clandestine rendezvous. Sometimes it was Oliver gazing into the distance, and other times, it was Felix. Yet, a constant remained – whenever you were out, they were with you. Over time, Oliver acknowledged, opening up to himself, that he truly felt at home, especially when you nestled yourself in a lacy gown between both of them, indulging in endless kisses until sleep embraced you all. This routine became a comforting ritual, repeated again and again.

#felix catton x reader #reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagie #oliver quick imagine #felix catto x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x you #saltburn imagines #farleigh x reader #venetia catton #jacob elordi #barry keoghan

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bearw-me · 2 months

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Drinking Buddies with Husk!

𐐒 includes : gender neutral reader 𐐒 cw : drinking/alcohol, fluffs, drunk rambling 𐐒 summary : mainly platonic but you could read as romantic too (in fact i'd love it if you did!) 𐐒 note : lil' self indulgent, love me sum whiskey myself... & with husk is just <3

Husk considers 'drinking buddy' and 'friends' two completely different fields, and even then, being his drinking buddy is (what I consider) a special privilege. . . not bestowed to many

he likes to unwind once and a while as much as the next sinner. . . but who really likes to wallow in self-pity by themselves? having company is always fun

the best company (as Husk considers you)

lets be real, how many people would Husk enjoy drinking with?

but its because he can practically see right through you. . . with those narrow yellow eyes of his, you almost feels transparent

and you are with him

if Husk wants no bullsht (i mean especially if the two of you share some drinks) he'll get it

in return, you allow Husk to be himself and rant all his drunken thoughts he has pent up inside of him

"I can't. . . I can't BELIEVE they got me working the bar at the. . . the. . . uh. . . waittt. . . what did you say about Angel?"

you laugh at him, both of your faces flushed, held up haphazardly with your hands leaning against Husk's bar top. Heads wonderfully buzzed.

Husk (near sht-faced) actually starts to purr, doing those slow blinks that cats do

I imagine Husk allows you to take his hat and wear it at some point, either he doesn't care or he doesn't even notice until you two wake up hungover (still at the bar no less)

Drunk bar songs w/ Husk, wherein he has his arm around your shoulder!

At his bar, or in his company, Husk has a special glass just for you.

Husk cleans all the glasses when no one's at the bar, and he notices the way you like to hold your drink and play with it in your hands. So when you take to a particular one (the perfect size for you hands) Husk puts it aside for when you come around!

no matter what you prefer to drink, Husk still makes you new drinks to consider and try out if you'll take it

always watches out for you btw and keeps you head up (literally)

but Husk loves drinking with you, he doesn't have to worry too much about—much really, and he knows he can depend on you too if he ever needed it, bar-fight wise anyway

i think he'd actually feel a twinge of jealous once and a while if 'the wrong' person were to approach you, especially if he was looking forward to your company and you actually seem to prefer the presence of someone else over him

Husk is the perfect drinking buddy imo

he's equal parts mature, responsible, and I could 100% picture the old cat being a hilarious drunk if he was pushed far enough!

Husk doing drunk magic tricks and sleight-of-hand for more drinks, or to impress

Husk has a very high tolerance for booze, but doesn't like to mix his drink types often

#imagines #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin husk #drunk #husk being a cat #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin hotel husk #headcanon #headcannons #new blog #first post #platonic #romantic #?

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importantgalaxyrunaway · 5 months

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Between the bars (Coriolanus Snow x reader)

AUTHORS NOTE 📝 : yall im so proud of this one i think its my best one yet would you want a part two bc i would be interested please comment and o worked Really really hard on this one especially a little longer than normal got a little carried away.

WARNINGS: pining, my post concussion writing, suggestive but no lemon, hardcore making out, fluff and slight angst w/ coryo family, tried my best for snow to be in character, were basically Lucy gray

My hands wrapped around the cold metal bars of the monkey house where I was enclosed in. I couldn’t sleep no, not a wink so I decided to watch over my district parter. It was cold at night, they didn’t give us any blankets. It’s barbaric the way they treat us, just because we’re district doesn’t mean we’re not human. And just since most of us are going to our death you’d think that we’d be entitled to a least a little dignity.

you’d think….

Suddenly I hear footsteps and peer out the bars of the monkey cage into the empty zoo. Well…..not empty anymore. There approaching me is the one person who has treated me fairly since coming here. He handles me like I was a true lady of the capital.

Coriolanus snow walked up to the bars where I was.

“hello y/n….I’ve brought you something” he hands me an intricate compact “it was my mothers I thought it would remind you of me in the arena and…….” He pauses and looks around though no one is there “there’s poison in it. I know, but only in self defense in that arena your going to things you’re not proud of”

I nod “I understand” I say knowing I’ll have to use it at some point “it’s beautiful…thank you” I run my fingers over the delicate and fancy design.

he smiles. That smile that stupid smirk. When I first met Coriolanus I had to admit I was struck by how attractive he was. Paired with holding out a rose for me to take from his hand and saying that he would take care of me….well it’s enough to have any girl blushing like a fool. I tried my best to keep it together but I knew some of the blush was showing on my face when he held out the rose. Whenever I look at him I get butterflies in my stomach. Little did I know at the time he felt almost the exact same way about me and my appearance when he first saw me. But it was my spirit at the reaping and going foreward that truly made him fall for her. In fact the was one of the things that prompted him to arrive with the rose at the train station. When I was reaped I didn’t cry or scream or anything but….well I sung. I’ve always been a performer at heart and though my song was very short it showed that they couldn’t break my spirit.

now he leans down and brings his face close to mine. Closer than ever before.

“Coryo, I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again…but I wanted to thank you, you’ve treated me well like an equal and that’s rare. If I die in that arena it won’t be your fault-“

“I’m going you out of there y/n. You’re not just a tribute to me. You’re going to survive”he shocks even himself by saying it. He had never spoken about his feelings to y/n. Not even to Tigris. But with the games tomorrow there was no chance other than now. He was enchanted by her beauty and her charm when they first met, her realness. And though it was hard to admit her survival in that arena now meant much more to him than just getting the plinthe prize. He cared about her. Love was a feeling that was all too foreign to the young Coriolanus snow. He had only ever possibly experimented with a girl or two and that was nothing special just a fling. He was an orphan he never knew love from his parents all he had was Tigris, the grandma’m and now y/n.

I let my fingers slip in between the the bars that separated us and caress the side of his soft cheek. Letting myself give in to the temptation that has plagued me ever since we met. His eyes lock onto mine and me gaze at each other for a while lost in our own thoughts. as I stroke his cheek he leans into my touch so heavily as though he has never felt real love in his life. My other hand goes to cup his other cheek from the side so I’m holding his head in my hands now. He looks up at me and I slide one of my hands down to his neck. He was so clearly touch starved, I could see the desperation and hunger in his eyes.

and we’re both wondering the same thing. is this it? Is this the last time l’ll ever see them?

“Y/n l/n” he breathed like it was a desperate plea.

“coryo…”

and then he leans in close and we are in between the bars. He kisses me at first gently, soft and pure like driven snow. I can smell the roses on him a sweet scent that fills my lungs and takes me away. And we both forget about everything. The arena, the tributes, the fact I might be facing my death tomorrow. Because all I can feel is his lips upon mine. His lips are warm and soft, unlike the cold crisp air around us. We’re almost gasping for air. The kiss turns hot and heavy. More rough as it goes on. Like he was holding back before, now he had given up the fight with control. I gasp as I feel his hand snake around to the back off my head and pulling impossibly closer to him in the kiss. When I gasp he takes advantage of that and and deepens the kiss even further if possible. It was never a fight for dominance he took control. A small groan of pleasure escapes Coriolanus’s lips. I hum in response showing that I’m enjoying it as much as he is. Eventually we break and put our foreheads together.

And there stands Coriolanus snow one of the finest men in the capital, panting uniform messed up, and face as red as a beet. All because of the tribute y/n l/n from district 12. She had more than just affect on him. That was an understatement

not that she was any better…

Our foreheads touching both of us panting for our lives, tomato faced. I gaze once again into those beautiful blue irises that remind me of crystals

“Coryo…I won’t let you down in that arena I’ll survive for us…you’ve given me something to fight for” I breathe out

”and you’ve given me someone to root for. I’ll be waiting for you y/n” he almost whispers the last sentence

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bunni-v1 · 6 months

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Hi! For the 500 follower special, can I get L,O,Q and X from the sfw alphabet, for deuce, Lilia and malleus? Thank you <3

🍓I'm powering through the sfw requests, then I'll get nsfw, and then full lists in the same order. I'm so glad so many people requested, I just hope I don't let anyone down with my responses :/

I DROP MALLEUS LORE SPOILERS IN MALLEUS' OPEN PROMPT!!! (NOTHING BIG, BUT ITS MALLEUS LORE)

Deuce

L - Little Ones (how are they around children?): Oh, Deuce LOVES kids. He just thinks they're so cute and sweet and -- ugh, he wishes he had siblings to spoil. Equally, though, he's very nervous around them when he first meets a kid. I mean, they're so little? How are the so tiny and helpless? He just wants to smother them with affection, but he can't cause they might die if he does that.

O - Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves?): Deuce is a pretty open book from the start. He doesn't really have a reason to hide, and if you're his partner, why would he want to hide anything? So, you probably know most things about him before you even start dating, and then he tells you the more embarrassing things later down the line as you get more serious about each other.

Q - Quizzes (how much would they remember about you?): Listen, he's not good with the little things like favorite colors or what your favorite song is. But if you tell him what your favorite flower is, your favorite restaurant? He never forgets it. It goes in the long-term Deuce memory bank, forever categorized as incredibly important, but he has no idea why until he needs the information.

X - Xtra: Deuce is, surprisingly, very good with hair. He used to have to help his mom style hers, so he knows a ton of really cool tricks for styling it. Female, male, non-binary -- doesn't matter, he knows how to style your hair and it's going to feel like a GODSEND to your scalp.

Lilia

L - Little Ones: Lilia's favorite hobby is being a father of three, so it's safe to assume he loves kids. Just everything about them is so darn cute -- their stubby little arms and disproportionate bodies. Oh! He can't get enough. If he could raise a hundred more kids, he absolutely would love to!

O - Open: Lilia, unlike Deuce, is not open at all! He puts on this bright and cheery face so he can hide from his dark and fucked up past. You are the light of his life, his guiding start in the night sky -- he doesn't want you to know how much of a monster he is. It's not until you are WELL SETTLED in your relationship that he tells you about his painful past, the things he's done, and how badly he wishes he could take it all back.

Q - Quizzes: Oh, Lilia knows everything. His memory just seems endless, and no matter if you told him something today or years ago, he would remember it clear as day. Every little detail from the very basics to the intricate ways you go about doing different things, he knows and adores all of them.

X - Xtra: Lilia is very good at gambling -- just hear me out. He's incredibly observant and reads people better than they do themselves. Not only that, he's smart. He can sit down at any gambling game, any kind, even if he's a beginner, and walk away with as much money as he wants. He is a casinos worst nightmare.

Malleus

L - Little Ones: Children make Malleus... nervous. They're very little, and they seem very unaware of things around them, yet they have the confidence and demand of a well-established ruler. It's discomforting. Still, he did help raise (technically) two younger boys, so he does harbor some affection for children, he just has to get used to them for him to really enjoy them.

O - Open: It's not to say that Malleus is NOT open, it's just that he doesn't think to share things about himself. So he seems closed off, but really he's just thinking about gargoyles. He does this... thing, though, where he just... lore drops on you. Out of nowhere, he just "My mother died before I was born, and the love that Lilia gave me was enough to cause me to hatch, therefore, he is the closest thing to a father figure I will ever have." Kay... cool Malleus.

Q - Quizzes: He is so bad at keeping track of time, he will not remember 90% of the things about you. He will, however, remember the most random things. Like he doesn't remember what year you were born, but he knows your favorite character and all their lore. It's because he only cares about the things you care about a lot. If you talk about something frequently, he's going to go out of his way to learn more about it because it matters to you <3

X - Xtra: Malleus has an EXTENSIVE collection of Magic The Gathering Cards (or the test equivalent). He doesn't play the game, he has no idea how it works, but he really likes the collecting part of the whole thing. The art on the cards is pretty, and that was enough to fuel a whole collection.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #bunni's treats 🧁#lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #deuce spade #lilia vanrouge x reader #malleus draconia x reader #deuce spade x reader

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synthshenanigans · 4 months

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I'm curious as to peoples idea for what he'd do for the next power hour so

[These all being popular ideas or ppl he's mentioned]

This was all just a ploy to get you to read my info dump theory on the concept of a Chonny Jash Power Hour loser HAHAHA

Im joking tho. Not about my CJPH theory, that is very much real but I'm not forcing you to read it lol

However if you're curious, my inane rambles are further down :}

[Long Rant Post Below]

Okay so I'm gonna start with the basic idea I got it from; that being Nerd. Nerd already foreshadowed the THDPH & the WWPH [Even down to the last song for each of them] Not only that, but he references the stuff hes done in the past as well with a break/pause inbetween.

[This is what I mean]

The first three being all stuff he already did. BDG with Pocket, Tally Hall with Vol.1 & then Cage by Tim Minchin being the start the power hours.

The next two being the power hours he would do after this song [Memento Mori & Charlie's Inferno-Will Wood & That Handsome Devil]. But those are the only songs he would reference in Nerd, leaving no more clues as to what the last one would be. The only thing left in it is the video game references & Stairway to Heaven in the ending. [Which oddly enough also fit the pattern in a way. StH being about dying and the afterlife like Memento Mori & Chonny's Inferno and the video game references being all covers he made on his old channel]

While the VG refs could be a hint at a Videogame or Toby Fox Power Hour, I think at most, if its a clue at all, hinting at the next thing he does is recovering old songs.

----

Next, a couple of his songs reference his past stuff. Fine, I'm Fine has a good amount of lines that vaguely refer back to songs from the before [heres a post that goes more into it that's pretty cool!!]. And more importantly Dear Machine references Pocket, Dream (Outro from Calamity) & wings of wax. Pocket being later used in Nerd & the mention of Icarus coming back in Art. Not only that, but the voice in the very end Thermodynamic Lawyer is the exact same [if not very close to] voice filter/effect he uses in Dear Machine. Even down to the British accent he does in it. [Tho it is fairly normal for a music artist to reference their older songs in their music so it could be nothing]

Speaking of Dear Machine tho, quick thing to add about it is that it shows he not against covering his own songs. While yea technically its just a different version of Ode of the Cog, DM,HtC in a way counts as a cover of OotC. Same goes for bargaining/compromise & The Ballad of Dr. Jekyll.

----

Another idea with a CJPH is that in the CJFS discord theres a "Question of the Day" Channel. Where, as the name says, a Mod or Helper will ask a CJ related question & everyone can give their idea/imput on it. For Day 100, as a special fun lil thing, they asked Chonny if he wanted to give a question for that day. His question being:

And yes he does say that he doesnt plan on doing anything like that in future [if he even were to do it]. I fully believe he wasn't lying there & honestly I never saw him redoing any song ever until I had the idea of a CJPH [aside from stuff like Spring and a Storm & Storm and a Spring obviously]. But this is the best idea I could ever see him doing that. Also that question was from early August so a fair amount of time has passed. Whether thats enough time to equal "at least in the near future at all" I have no clue, but it is a thought.

----

One of my last points [that I remember atm lol] is on how he would end the power hours. Cos like, while yea he does whatever he wants & doesn't rlly follow what anyone says or asks [which I 100% agree with & is completely valid btw], I'd imagine he'd still want to end the PHs with a bang. Which is why I originally didnt think the recent one would be Will Wood.

He's stated a couple of time that hes one of his favorite artist & he definitely knows that a huge chunk of his fan base listen to WW as well. So why not end with that? Why not end with one of the most requested artist people wanted him to cover? Why wouldn't he end with a power hour of the artist that was his #1 on his Spotify Wrapped? What else could he do after that? Well maybe he'd go with his #2 artist? WHICH IS JUST HIMSELF BBYYYY

Plus, the name Power Hour already comes from this:

So it's very likely he's had himself play multiple times in a row & had a "Chonny Jash Power Hour".

Of course theories are just theories so there's always the chance I'm wrong & just insane. And again he does whatever he wants whenever he wants so who knows what it'll be. I just think id be an interesting idea for him to do.

As for how a Chonny Jash Power Hour would look? Maybe each song being a cover of a song from a past album or single? I'd imagine one from the before. & Covered in Discontent [maybe Gothic Whore?]. Like remake Pocket since its been referenced so much, tho that's still just a BDG cover so who knows. the before. would be interesting just to see how his perspective has changed since he originally wrote those songs. Gothic Whore he already has 2 songs that have a story version & a him version so I can see him doing another.

I HIGHLY doubt he'd do anything related to Vol.1 as its his completely separate thing & he doesn't rlly wanna touch any song that's TH/HMS related until whenever he feels like starting Vol.2 [which is valid lol]. If anything I could maybe see like TWWAY, Special or maybe Greener? Or go a different route with the og I'm Gonna Win or like a more outta the box one with like Just a Friend [only cos be did a 20 second "cover" of it in Mucka Blucka]. Again, I do not see him touching anything Vol.1 related but still something to entertain ig? [4th TME cover; The Chonny Electric when/j]

Tho maybe he'd just remake songs that he he fully made [like the before. or Gothic Whore], since those are more of actual Chonny Jash songs rather than the others just being covers. Would be very cool to maybe see a remake of some of his Majora's Mask song tho [no this isn't me coping over HEAL not being on spotify shush]. Or maybe he'd do songs from his old stuff like Don't Take it Personally? [also not me coping over wanting that song on Spotify too]

Idk these are just my thoughts on the idea of a CJPH [or even a Can of Soup Power Hour/j]. Either way I am gonna say idc what he'd do, BDG or Streetlight Manifesto are my other guesses, but anything he makes is always rll good & fun so I'll be interested to see whatever it is.

But ya know considering I typed all this out in the span of an hour & a half I kinda hope im not wrong PFFT

#apologies if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes lol #i just typed a lotta insane ramblings so im bound to mess up somewhere. also i am dyslexic #if you actually managed to read all that. Congrats & thank you :D! Also why tho! you're insane for listening to me being insane/j #I hope I made sense at least #And if you spent any time even glancing at my text thank you a lot but I hope you aren't bored lol #also its still gonna be a bit since he does a power hour but still curious as to ppls ideas of it #at least it BETTER be awhile. bro better take that damn br8k #chonny jash #moss post #KJ is going insane again

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popiastar · 11 months

Note

cuddling hcs with rain, dew and swiss? 👀

-🔪 anon

yaaaasssss! i love writing some fluff 👀

❗info: gn!reader, fluff, small bean ghouls, must protect baby rain, dewdrop being dewdrop as always, swiss being the pervert he is

- probably the one who request to cuddle, rain feels safe having you near him

🌧️ rain

- no matter where you are. he wants it, he got it

- two types of cuddles: casual cuddling everytime you both are in public, that's consist in holding hands, head resting on shoulder, cozy hungs and the other type is more intimate and reserved when you are alone. specially in bed. naked

- basically you are his peluche, squeezing you tightly

- rain is sooooo touchy, his hands caress every inch

- most of the time you talk about random topic, that's because you found cuddles very intimate and sharing throughs is a fundamental part of your relationship even if you can understand each other just by a gaze

- as i said, rain seems like a cat. his nose rubbing your neck and inhale your scent

- "why you always sniff me?"

- "well, mh... you smell like home"

- you imitate him, plus placing a chaste kiss on his shoulder, he smells like home too

- music plays in background or just him begin to mumbles one and you follow him

- rain can be inappropriate too, he squeeze your body a little bit... sexual?

- not really his intention, just his nature

- rolling in the bedsheets close like two koalas and giggle together

🔥dewdrop

- this happen almost every night, after dinner rain come close to you and straightforward asks you to "cuddle naked and don't lost your time with those insensitive idiots"

- not a big fan of cuddling, initially he can be like ew gross and then yeah, yeah, if you asking so nicely

- you have to do the first move, he don't even know how to do it

- hug him and let him resting over your chest, dew secretly loves the closeness and the heat of your skin against his

- mumble how disgusting is cuddles but stays still like a rock

- not fully relaxed, he don't know where he supposed to put his hands so they are still on his figure

- want him to stop complaining and being relaxed? stroke his damn hair and dew melt like butter

- "ya know dew, you can touch me"

- "and where the fucking fuck i have to put my hands huh???"

- take his hand and place it behind your back. dew is still unsure, however he starts roaming your back gently

- humming at the sensation of your soft skin on his digits

- call him cute, blushing dewdrop for free!

- more often cuddling session but don't expect him saying out loud, he just looks at you

- you pretend to not understand make him flustered and starts to yell

- "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, HUH? NO STUPID FUCKING CUDDLES? I'M WAITING"

💣swiss

- tease him about how much he actually loves cuddling and he blushing again. he also goes in self-combustion

- for swiss cuddle means inappropriate touch/make out session/vanilla sex

- imagine him jumping on the bed, laying down in a sexy pose and a rose between his teeth

- "what the fuck are you doing, sir?"

- "me, you... cuddles" *rising eyebrows up and down*

- laugh hysterically when he found out what cuddles really means and tells you he was joking

- your head resting over his buffy chest, squeezing your ass anyway cause they're calling me, he said

- caress his arms and you can see his hair rise up, swiss' skin is super sensitive

- kiss all over your face, he founds you cute and can't help by expressing with physical affections

- tangles his legs with yours

- swiss is hopeless romantic, sings love songs for you also mimicking slow dances

- take his hand and he probably starts crying, for him is equal as an i love you

- "are you crying, my black obsidian?"

- "yeah... i mean NO! hold on, are you really calling me like a gemstone?"

- hides his head on your shoulder, sobbing, how can you be so cute calling him by the way he calls you huh??????

- every time swiss spots you around he runs to you and rubs his head on your neck making you understand its cuddle time

#ghost band #ghost bc #ghost headcanons #nameless ghouls #x reader #the band ghost #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #swiss ghoul #swiss army ghoul #multi ghoul #rain x reader #dewdrop x reader #swiss x reader #fluff #fluff headcanons

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canmom · 7 months

Text

Music theory notes (for science bitches) - part 2: pentatonics and friends

or, the West ain't all that.

Hello again everyone! I'm grateful for the warm reception to the first music theory notes post (aka 'what is music? from first principles'). If you haven't read it, take a look~

In that stab at a first step towards 'what is music', I tried to distinguish between what's a relatively universal mathematical structure (nearly all musical systems have the octave) and what's an arbitrary convention. But in the end I did consciously limit myself, and make a beeline for the widely used 12TET tuning system and the diatonic scales used in Western music. I wanted to avoid overwhelming myself, and... 👻 it's all around us...👻

But! But but but. This is a series on music theory. Not just one music theory. The whole damn thing. I think I'm doing a huge disservice to everyone, not least me, if that's where we stop.

Today, then! For our second installation: 'Music theory notes (for science bitches)' will take a quick look through some examples that diverge from the diatonic scale: the erhu, Japanese pentatonic scales, gamelan, klezmer, and blues.

Also since the first part was quite abstract, we'll also having a go at using the tools we've built so far on a specific piece, the Edo-period folk song Sakura, Sakura.

Sound fun? Let's fucking gooooo

The story so far

To recap: in the first post we started by saying we're gonna be looking at tonal music, which isn't the only type of music. We introduced the idea of notes and frequencies by invoking the magic name of Fourier.

We said music can be approximated (for now) as an idealised pressure wave, which we can divide into brief windows called 'notes', and these notes are usually made of a strong sine wave at the 'fundamental frequency', plus a stack of further sine waves at integer multiples of that frequency called 'overtones'.

Then, we started constructing a culturally specific but extremely widespread system of creating structure between notes, known as '12 Tone Equal Temperament' or 12TET. The main character of this story is the interval, which is the ratio between the fundamental frequencies of two notes; we talked about how small-integer ratios of frequencies tend to be especially 'consonant' or nice-sounding.

We introduced the idea of the 'octave', which is when two notes have a frequency ratio of 2. We established the convention treating notes an octave apart as deeply related, to the point that we give them the same name. We also brought in the 'fifth', the ratio of 1.5, and talked about the idea of constructing a scale using small-integer ratios.

But we argued that if you try and build everything with those small-integer ratios you can dig yourself into a hole where moving around the musical space is rife with complications.

As a solution to this, I pulled out 'equal temperament' as an approximation with a lot of mathematical simplicity. Using a special irrational ratio called the "semitone" as a building block, we could construct the Western system of scales and modes and chords and such, where

a 'scale' is kind of like a palette for a piece of music, defined by a set of frequency ratios relative to a 'root' or 'tonic' note. this can be abstract, as in 'the major scale', or concrete, as in 'C major'.

a 'mode' is a cyclic permutation of an abstract scale. although it may contain the same notes, moving them around can change the feeling a lot!

a 'chord' is playing multiple notes at the same time. 'Triad' chords can be constructed from scales. There are other types which add or remove stuff from the triads. We'll come back to this.

I also summarised how sheet music works and the rather arbitrary choices in its construction, and at the end, I very briefly talked about chord notation.

There's a lot of ways to do this...

I recently watched a video by jazz musician and music theory youtuber Adam Neely, in which he and Philip Ewell discuss how much "music theory" is treated as synonymous with a very specific music theory which Neely glosses as "the harmonic style of 18th-century European composers". He argues, pretty convincingly imo, that 'music theory' pedagogy is seriously weakened by not taking non-white/Western models, such as Indian classical music theories, as a foil - citing Anuja Kamat's channel on Indian classical music as a great example of how to do things differently. Here's her introductory playlist on Indian classical music concepts, which I will hopefully be able to lean on in future posts:

There's two big pitfalls I wanna avoid as I teach myself music theory. I like maths a lot, and if I can fit something into a mathematical structure it's much easier for me to remember it - but I gotta be really careful not to mathwash some very arbitrary conventions and present them as more universal than they are. Music involves a lot of mathematics, but you can't reduce it to maths. It's a language for expressing emotion, not a predicate to prove.

One of the big goals of this series is to get straight in my head what has a good answer to 'why this way?', and what is just 'idk it's the convention we use'. And if something is an arbitrary convention, we gotta ask, what other conventions exist? Humans are inventive little buggers after all.

I also don't want to limit my analytical toolbox to a single 'hammer' of Western music theory, and try and force everything else into that frame. The reasons I'm learning music theory are... 1. to make my playing and singing better, and be more comfortable improvising; 2. to learn to compose stuff, which is currently a great mystery. How do they do it? I do like Western classical music, but honestly? Most of the music I enjoy is actually not Western. I want to be able to approach that music on its own terms.

For example, the erhu... for erhuample???

The instrument family I'm learning, erhu/zhonghu, is remarkably versatile - there are no frets (or even a soundboard!) to guide you, which is both a challenge and a huge freedom. You can absolutely play 12TET music on it, and it has a very beautiful sound - here is an erhu harmonising with a 12TET-tuned piano to play a song from the Princess Mononoke soundtrack, originally composed by Joe Hisaishi as an orchestral piece for the usual Western instruments...

youtube

This performance already makes heavy use of a technique called (in English) 'vibrato', where you oscillate the pitch around as you play the note (which means the whole construction that 'a note has a fixed pitch defined by a ratio' is actually an abstraction - now a note's 'frequency' represents the middle point a small range of pitches!). Vibrato is very common in Western music too, though the way you do it on an erhu and the way you do it on a violin or flute are of course a little different. (We could do an aside on Fourier analysis of vibrato here but I think that's another day's subject).

But if you listen to Chinese compositions specifically for Erhu, they take advantage of the lack of fixed pitch to zip up and down like crazy. Take the popular song Horse Racing for example, composed in the 1960s, which seems to be the closest thing to the 'iconic' erhu piece...

youtube

This can be notated in 12TET sheet music. But it's also taking full advantage of some of the unique qualities of the erhu's long string and lack of frets, like its ability to glide up and down notes, playing the full range of 'in between' frequencies on one string. The sheet music I linked there also has a notation style called 简谱 jiǎnpǔ which assigns numbers to notes. It's not so very different from Western sheet music, since it's still based on the diatonic major scale, but it's adjusted relative to the scale you're currently playing instead of always using C major. Erhu music very often includes very fast trills and a really skilled erhu/zhonghu player can jump between octaves with a level of confidence I find hard to comprehend.

I could spend this whole post putting erhu videos but let me just put one of the zhonghu specifically, which is a slightly deeper instrument; in Western terms the zhonghu (tuned to G and D) is the viola to the erhu's violin (tuned to D and A)...

youtube

To a certain degree, Chinese music is relatively easy to map across to the Western 12-tone chromatic scale. For example, the 十二律 shí'èr lǜ system uses essentially the same frequency ratios as the Pythagorean system. However, Chinese music generally makes much heavier use of pentatonic scales than Western music, and does not by default use equal temperament, instead using its own system of rational frequency ratios. correction: with the advent of Chinese orchestras in the mid-20thC, it seems that Chinese instruments now usually are tuned in equal temperament.

I would like my understanding of music theory to have a 'first class' understanding of Chinese compositions like Horse Racing (and also to have a larger reference pool lmao). I'm going to be starting formal erhu lessons next month, with a curriculum mostly focused on Chinese music. If I have interesting things to report back I'll be sure to share them!

Anyway, in a similar spirit, this post we're gonna try and do a brief survey of various musical constructs relevant to e.g. Japanese music, Klezmer, Blues, Indian classical music... I have to emphasise I am not an expert in any of these systems, so I can't promise to have the most elegant form of presentation for them, just the handles I've been able to get. I will be using Western music theory terms quite a bit still, to try and draw out the parallels and connections. But I hope it's going to be interesting all the same.

Let's start with... pentatonic scales!

Pentatonic scales

In the previous post we focused most of our attention on the diatonic scale. Confusingly, a "diatonic" scale is actually a type of heptatonic scale, meaning there are 7 notes inside an octave. As we've seen, the diatonic scale is constructed on top of the 12-semitone system.

Strictly defined, a 'diatonic' scale has five intervals of two semitones and two intervals of one semitone, and the one-semitone intervals are spread out as much as possible. So 'diatonic scales' includes the major scale and all its cyclic permutations (aka 'modes'), including the natural minor scale, but not the other two minor scales we talked about last time!

However, whoever said we should pick exactly 7 notes in the octave? That's rather arbitrary, isn't it?

After all, in illustration, a more restricted palette can often lead to a much more visually striking image. The same is perhaps even more true in music!

A pentatonic scale is, as the name suggests, a scale which has five notes in an octave. Due to all that stuff we discussed with small-number ratios, the pentatonic scales we are about to discuss can generally be mapped quite easily onto the 12-tone system. There's some reason for this - 12TET is designed to closely approximate the appealing small-number frequency ratios, so if another system uses the same frequency ratios, we can probably find a subset of 12TET that's a good match.

Of course, fitting 12TET doesn't mean it matches the diatonic scale, necessarily. Still, once you're on the 12 tone system, there's enough diatonic scales out there that you can often define a pentatonic scale in terms of a delta relative to one of the diatonic scale modes. Like, 'shift this degree down, delete that degree'.

Final caveat: I'm not sure if it's strictly correct to use equal temperament in all these examples, but all the sources I find define these scales using Western music notation, so we'll have to go with that.

Sakura, sakura and the yonanuki scale

Let's start with Japanese music. Here's the Edo-period folk song Sakura, Sakura, which is one of the most iconic pieces of Japanese music¸ especially abroad:

youtube

This uses the in scale, also known as the sakura pentatonic scale, one of a few widely used pentatonic scales in Japanese folk music, along with the yo scale, insen scale and iwato scale... according to English-language sources.

Finding the actual Japanese was a bit difficult - so far as I can tell the Japanese wiki page for Sakura, Sakura never mentions the scale named after it! - but eventually I found a page for pentatonic scales, or 五音音階 goon onkai. So we can finally determine the kanji for this scale is 陰音階 in onkai or 陰旋法 in senpou. [Amusingly, the JP wiki article on pentatonic scales actually leads with... Scottish folk songs and gamelan before it goes into Japanese music.]

However, perhaps more pertinent is this page: ヨナ抜き音階 which introduces the terms yonanuki onkai and ニロ抜き音階 nironuki onkai. This can be glossed as 'leave out the fourth (yo) and seventh (na) scale' and 'leave out the second (ni) and sixth (ro) scale', describing two procedures to construct pentatonic scales from a diatonic scale.

Let's recap major and minor. Last time we defined them using semitone intervals from a root note (the one in brackets is the next octave):

position: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, (8) major: 0, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 11, (12) minor: 0, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, (12)

From here we can construct some pentatonic scales. Firstly, here are your yonanuki scales - the ones that delete the fourth and seventh:

major: 0, 2, 4, 7, 9, (12) minor: 0, 2, 3, 7, 8, (12)

Starting on C for the major and A for the minor (the ones with the blank key signature), this is how you notate that in Western sheet music. As you can see, we have just deleted a couple of steps.

The first one is the 'standard' major pentatonic scale in Western music theory; it's also called the ryo scale in traditional Japanese music (呂旋法 ryosenpou). The second one is a mode (cyclic permutation) of a scale called 都節音階 miyakobushi, which is apparently equivalent to the in scale.

In terms of gaps between successive notes, these go:

major: 2, 2, 3, 2, 3 - very even minor: 2, 1, 4, 1, 4 - whoah, huge intervals!

The miyakobushi scale, for comparison, goes...

miyakobushi (absolute): 0, 1, 5, 7, 8, (12) miyakobushi (deltas): 1, 4, 2, 1, 4

JP wikipedia lists two different versions of the 陰旋法 (in scale), for ascending and descending. Starting on C, one goes C, D, Eb, G, A; the other goes C, D, Eb, G, Ab. Let's convert that into my preferred semitone interval notation:

in scale (absolute, asc): 0, 2, 3, 7, 9, (12) in scale (relative, asc): 2, 1, 4, 2, 3 in scale (absolute, desc): 0, 2, 3, 7, 8, (12) in scale (relative, desc): 2, 1, 4, 1, 4

So we see that the 'descending form' of the in scale matches the minor yonanuki scale, and it's a mode (cyclic permutation) of the miyakobushi scale.

We've talked a great deal about the names and construction of the different type of scales, but beyond the vague gesture to the standard associations of 'major upbeat, minor sad/mysterious' I don't think we've really looked at how a scale actually affects a piece of music.

So let's have a look at the semitone intervals in Sakura, Sakura in absolute terms from to the first note...

sakura, sakura, ya yoi no so ra-a wa 0, 0, 2; 0, 0, 2; 0, 2, 3, 2, 0, 2-0, -4

and in relative terms between successive notes:

sa ku ra, sa ku ra, ya yo i no so ra-a wa 0, 0, +2; -2, 0, +2; -2, +2, +1, -1, -2, +2, -2, -4

If you listen to Sakura, Sakura, pay attention to the end of the first line - that wa suddenly drops down a huge distance (a major second - for some reason I miscalculated this and thought it was a tritone) and that's where it feels like damn, OK, this song is really cooking! It catches you by surprise. We can identify these intervals as belonging to the in/yoyanuki minor scale, and even starting on its root note.

Although its subject matter is actually pretty positive (hey, check it out guys, the cherry blossoms are falling!), Sakura, Sakura sounds mournful and mysterious. What makes it sound 'minor'? The first phrase doesn't actually tell you what key we're in, that jump of 2 semitones could happen in major or minor. But the second phrase, introduces the pattern of going up 2, then up 1, from the root note - that's the minor scale pattern. What takes it beyond just 'we're in minor'? That surprise tritone move down. According to the rough working model that 'dissonant notes create tension, consonant notes resolve it', this creates a ton of tension. This analysis is bunk, there isn't a tritone. It's a big jump but it's not that big a jump.

How does it eventually wrap up? The final phrase of Sakura, Sakura goes...

i za ya, i za ya, mi ni yu - u ka nn 0, 0, 2; 0, 0, 2; -5, -4, 2, 0, -4, -5 0, 0, +2; -2, 0, +2; -5, +1, +4, -2, -4, -1

Here's my attempt to try and do a very basic tonal/interval analysis. We start out this phrase with the same notes as the opening bars, but abruptly diverge in bar 3, slowing down at the same time, which provides a hint that things are about to come to a close. The move of -5 down is a perfect fourth; in contrast to the tritone major second we had before, this is considered a very consonant interval. (A perfect fourth down is also equivalent to going up a fifth and then down an octave. So we're 'ending on the fifth'.) We move up a little and down insteps of 4, 2, and 1, which are less dramatic. Then we come back down and end on the fifth. We still have those 4-steps next to 1 steps which is the big flag that says 'whoah we're in the sakura pentatonic scale', but we're bleeding off some of the tension here.

Linguistically, the song also ends on the mora ん, the only mora that is only a consonant (rather than a vowel or consonant-vowel), and that long drawn-out voiced consonant gives a feeling of gradually trailing away. So you could call it a very 'soft' ending.

Is this 'tension + resolution' model how a Japanese music theorist would analyse this song? It seems to be a reasonably effective model when applied to Japanese music by... various music theorist youtubers, but I don't really know! That's something I want to find out more about.

Something raised on the English wiki is the idea that the miyakobushi scale is divided into two groups, spanning a fourth each, which is apparently summarised by someone called Koizumi Fumio in a book written in 1974:

Each group goes up 1 (a semitone or minor second), then 4 (major third), for a total of 5 (perfect fourth). The edges of these little blocks are considered 'nucleus' notes, and they're of special importance.

Can we see this in action if we look at Sakura, Sakura? ...ehhhh. I admit, the way I think of the song is shaped by the way I play it on the zhonghu; I think of the first two two-bar phrases as the 'upper part' and the third phrase as the 'lower part', and neither lines up neatly with these little groups. Still. I suspect Koizumi Fumio, author of Nihon no ongaku, knows a little more about this than I do, so I figure it's worth a mention.

Aside: on absorbing a song

Sakura, Sakura is kinda special to me because it's like the second piece I learned to play on zhonghu (after Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star lmao). I can't play it well, but I am proud that I have learned to play it at least recognisably.

The process of learning to play it involved writing out tabs and trying out different ways of moving my hand. I transcribed Sakura Sakura down to start on F, since that way the open G string of the zhonghu could be the lowest note of the piece, and worked out a tab for it using a tab system I cooked up with my friend. Here's what it looks like. The system counts semitones up from the open string, and it uses an underline to mark the lower string.

(Also, credit where it's due - I would never have made any progress learning about music if not for my friend Maki Yamazaki, a prodigiously multitalented self-taught musician who can play dozens of instruments, and also the person who sold me her old zhonghu for dirt cheap, if you're wondering why a white British girl might be learning such an unusual instrument. You can and should check our her music here! Maki has done more than absolutely anyone to make music comprehensible to me, and a lot of this post is inspired by discussing the previous post with her.)

When you want to make a song playable on an instrument, you have to perform some interpretation. Which fingers should play which notes? When should you move your hand? How do you make sure you hit the right notes? At some point this kind of movement becomes second nature, but I'm at the stage, just like a player encountering a new genre of videogame, where I still don't have the muscle memory or habituation to how things work, and each of these little details has to be worked out one by one. But this is great, because this process makes me way more intimately familiar with the contours of the song. Trying to analyse the moves it makes like the above even more so.

More Japanese scales

So, to sum up what we've observed, the beautiful minor sounds of Sakura Sakura come from a pentatonic scale which can be constructed by taking the diatonic scale and blasting certain notes into the sea, namely the fourth and the seventh of the scale. But what about the nironuki scale? Well, this time we delete the second and the sixth. So we get, in absolute terms:

major nironuki (abs): 0, 4, 5, 7, 11, (12) major nironuki (rel): 4, 1, 2, 4, 1 minor nironuki (abs): 0, 3, 5, 7, 10, (12) minor nironuki (rel): 3, 2, 2, 3, 2

Hold on a minute, doesn't that look rather familiar? The major nironuki scale is a permutation, though not a cyclic permutation, of the minor yonanuki scale. And the minor nironuki scale is a cyclic permutation (mode) of the major one.

Nevertheless, these scales have names and significance of their own. The major one is known as the 琉球音階 ryūkyū onkai or Okinawan scale. The minor one is what Western music would call a 'minor pentatonic scale'. It also mentions a couple of other names for it, like the 民謡音階 minyou onkai (folk scale).

We also have the yō scale, which like the in scale, comes in ascending and descending forms. You want these too? Yeah? Ok, here we go.

yō scale (asc, abs): 0, 2, 5, 7, 10, (12) yō scale (asc, rel): 2, 3, 2, 3, 2 yō scale (desc, abs): 0, 2, 5, 7, 9, (12) yō scale (desc, rel): 2, 3, 2, 2, 3

The yō scale is what's called an anhemitonic pentatonic scale, which is just a fancy way of saying it doesn't have semitones. (The in scale in turn is hemitonic). The ascending form is also called the 律戦法 ritsusenpou. Here's the complete table of all the variants I've found so far.

So, in summary: Japanese music uses a lot of pentatonic scales. (In a future post we can hopefully see how that applies in modern Japanese music). These pentatonic scales can be constructed by deleting two notes from the diatonic scales. In general, you land in one of two zones: the anhemitonic side, where all the intervals between successive notes, are 2 and 3, and the hemitonic side, where the intervals are spicier 1s and 4s and a lone 2. From there, you can move between other pentatonic scales by cyclic permutations and reversal.

If you analyse Japanese music from a Western lens, you might well end up interpreting it according to one of the modes of the major scale. In fact, the 8-bit music theory video I posted last time takes this approach. This isn't wrong per se, it's a viable way to getting insight into how the tune works if you want to ask the question 'how does this conjure emotions and how do I get the same effects', but it's worthwhile to know what analytical frame the composers are likely to be using.

Gamelan - when 12TET won't cut it

Gamelan is a form of Indonesian ensemble music. I do not at this time know a ton about it, but here's a performance:

youtube

However, if you're reading my blog then it's likely that if know gamelan from anywhere, it's most likely the soundtrack to Akira composed by Shōji Yamashiro.

youtube

This blends traditional gamelan instrumentation and voices with modern synths to create an incredibly bold and (for most viewers outside Indonesia!) unfamiliar sound to accompany the film's themes of psychic awakening and evolution. It was an inspired choice, adding a lot to an already great film.

'A gamelan' is the ensemble; 'gamelan' is also the style of music. There are many different types of gamelan associated with different occasions - some gamelans are only allowed to form for special ceremonies. Gamelan is also used as a soundtrack in accompaniment to other art forms, such as wayang kulit and wayang wong (respectively, shadow puppetry and dance).

Since gamelan music evidently uses quite a bit of percussion, and so far we've been focused on the type of music played on strings and wind instruments - a brief comment on the limitations of our abstractions. Many types of drums don't fit the 'tonal music' frame we've outlined so far, creating a broad frequency spectrum that's close to an enveloped burst of white noise rather than a sharply peaked fundamental + overtones. There's a ton to study in drumming, and if this series continues you bet I'll try to understand it.

But there are tonal percussion instruments, and a lot of them are to be found in gamelan, particularly in the metalophone family (e.g. the ugal or jegogan). The Western 'xylophone' and 'glockenspiel' also belong to this family. Besides metalophones, you've got bells, steel drums, tuning forks etc. Tuning a percussion instrument is a matter of adjusting the shape of the metal to adjust the resonant frequency of its normal modes. I imagine it's really fiddly.

In any case, the profile of a percussion note is quite different from the continual impulse provided by e.g. a violin bow. You get a big burst across all frequencies and then everything but the resonant mode dies out, leaving the ringing with a much simpler spectrum.

Anyway, let's get on to scales and shit. While I have the Japanese wikipedia page on pentatonic scales open, that it mentions a gamelan scale called pelog (written ᮕᮦᮜᮧᮌ᮪, ꦥꦺꦭꦺꦴꦒ꧀ or ᬧᬾᬮᭀᬕ᭄ in different languages) meaning 'beautiful'. Pelog is not strictly one scale, but a family of tunings which vary across Indonesia. Depending on who you ask, it might in some cases be reasonably close to a 9-tone equal temperament (9TET), which means a number of notes can't be represented in 12TET - you have that 4 12TET semitones would be equivalent to 3 9TET semitones. From this is drawn a heptatonic scale, but not one that can be mapped exactly to any 12TET heptatonic scale. Isn't that fun!

To represent scales that don't exactly fit the tuning of 12TET, there's a logarithmic unit of measure called the 'cent'. Each 12TET semitone contains 100 cents, so in terms of ratios, a cent is the the 1200th root of 2. In this system, a 9TET semitone is 133 cents. Some steps in the pelog heptatonic scale would then be two 9TET semitones, and others one 9TET semitone. However, this system of 'semitones' does not seem to be how gamelan music is actually notated - it's assumed you already have an established pelog tuning and can play within that. So it's a little difficult for me to give you a decent representation of a gamelan scale that isn't approximated by 12TET.

From the 7-tone pelog scale, whatever it happens to be where you live, you can further derive pentatonic scales. These have various names, like the pelog selisir used in the gamelan gong kebyar. I'm not going to itemise them here both because I haven't actually been able to find the basic pelog tunings (at least by their 9TET approximation).

Another scale used in gamelan is called slendro, a five tone scale of 'very roughly' equal intervals. Five is coprime with 12, so there's no straightforward mapping of any part of this scale to the 12-tone system. But more than that, fully even scales are quite rare in the places we've looked so far. (Though apparently within slendro, you can play a note that's deliberately 'out of place', called 'miring'. This transforms the mood from 'light, cheerful and busy' to one appropriate to scenes of 'homesickness, love missing, sadness, death, languishing'.)

The Western musical notation system is plainly unsuited for gamelan, and naturally it has its own system - or rather several systems. In one method, the seven tones of the pelog are numbered 1 through 7, and a subset of those numbers are used to enumerate slendro tuning. You can write it on a grid similar to a musical staff.

But we could wonder with this research - is the attempt to map pélog to 'equal temperament' an external imposition? Presented with a tuning system with seven intervals that are not consistently equal temperament, averaging them to construct an equal temperament hypothesis on that basis, and finally attempting to prove that gamelan players 'prefer' equal temperament... well, they do at least bother to ask, but I'm not entirely convinced that 9TET or 5TET is the right model. Unfortunately, most of the literature I'm able to find on gamelan music theory with a cursory search is by Western researchers.

There's a fairly long history of Western composers taking inspiration from gamelan, notably Debussy and Saty. And of course, modern Indonesian composers such as I Nyoman Windha have also been finding ways to combine gamelan with Western styles. Here's a piece composed by him (unfortunately not a splendid recording):

youtube

Klezmer - layer 'em up

If you've known me for long enough you might remember the time I had a huge Daniel Kahn and the Painted Bird phase. (I still think he's great, I just did that thing where I obsessively listen to one small set of things for a period). And I'd also listen to old revolutionary songs in Yiddish all the time. Because of course I did lmao. Anyway, here's a song that combines both: Kahn's modern arrangement of Arbetlose Marsch in English and Yiddish:

youtube

That's a style of music called klezmer, developed by Ashkenazi Jews in Central/Eastern Europe starting in the late 1500s and 1600s. It's a blend of a whole bunch of different traditions, combining elements from Jewish religious music with other neighbouring folk music traditions and European music at large. When things really kicked off at the end of the 19th century, klezmer musicians were often a part of the Jewish socialist movement (and came up with some real bangers - the Tsar may have been shot by the Bolsheviks but tbh, Daloy Politsey already killed him). But equally there's a reason it sounds insanely danceable: it was very often used for dances.

The rest of the 20th century happened, but klezmer survived all the genocides and there are lots of different modern klezmer bands.

The defining characteristics of klezmer per Wikipedia are... ok, this is quite long...

Klezmer musicians apply the overall style to available specific techniques on each melodic instrument. They incorporate and elaborate the vocal melodies of Jewish religious practice, including khazones, davenen, and paraliturgical song, extending the range of human voice into the musical expression possible on instruments.[21] Among those stylistic elements that are considered typically "Jewish" in Klezmer music are those which are shared with cantorial or Hasidic vocal ornaments, including dreydlekh ("tear in the voice"; plural of dreidel)[22][23] and imitations of sighing or laughing ("laughter through tears").[24] Various Yiddish terms were used for these vocal-like ornaments such as קרעכץ (Krekhts, "groan" or "moan"), קנײטש (kneytsh, "wrinkle" or "fold"), and קװעטש (kvetsh, "pressure" or "stress").[10] Other ornaments such as trills, grace notes, appoggiaturas, glitshn (glissandos), tshoks (a kind of bent notes of cackle-like sound), flageolets (string harmonics),[22][25]pedal notes, mordents, slides and typical Klezmer cadences are also important to the style.[18]

So evidently klezmer will be relevant throughout this series, but for now, since we're trying to flesh out the picture of 'how is tuning formed', let's take a look at the notes.

So it's absolutely possible to fit klezmer into the 12TET system. But we're going to need to crack open a few new scales. Though the Wikipedia editors enumerating this list caution us: "Another problem in listing these terms as simple eight-note (octatonic) scales is that it makes it harder to see how Klezmer melodic structures can work as five-note pentachords, how parts of different modes typically interact, and what the cultural significance of a given mode might be in a traditional Klezmer context."

With that caution in mind, let's at least see what we're given. First of all we have the Freygish or Ahavoh Rabboh scale, one of the most common pieces, good friend of the Western phrygian but with an extra semitone. Then there's Mi Sbererakh or Av HaRachamim which is a mode of it, that's popular around Ukraine. Adonoy Molokh or Adoyshem Molokh is the major scale but you drop the seventh a semitone. Mogen Ovos is the same as the natural minor at least on the interval level.

Which means, without the jargon, here are the semitones (wow wouldn't it be nice if you had tables on here?):

position: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, (8) freygish: 0, 1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, (12) deltas: 1, 3, 1, 2, 1, 2, 2 mi sberakh: 0, 2, 3, 6, 7, 9, 10, (12) deltas: 2, 1, 3, 2, 2, 1, 2 adonoy m.: 0, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, (12) deltas: 2, 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 2 mogen o.: 0, 2, 3, 5, 7, 8, 10, (12) deltas: 2, 1, 2, 2, 1, 2, 2

...that's a big block of numbers to make your eyes glaze over huh. Maybe this 'convert everything to semitone deltas' thing isn't all it's cracked up to be... or maybe what I need to do is actually visualise it somehow? Some kinda big old graph showing all the different scales we've worked out so far and how they relate to each other? ...hold your horses...

[It seems like what I've done is reinvent something called 'musical set theory', incidentally.]

OK, having enumerated these, let's return to the Wikipedian's caution. What is a pentachord? Pretty simple, it's a chord of five notes. Mind you, some people define it as five successive notes of a diatonic scale.

In klezmer, you've got a bunch of different instruments playing at once creating a really dense sound texture. Presumably one of the things you do when you play klezmer is try and get the different instruments in your ensemble to hit the different levels of that pentachord. How does that work? Well, if we consult the sources, we find this scan of a half-handwritten PDF presenting considerably more detail on the modes and how they're played. The scales above are combined with a 'motivic scheme' presenting different patterns that notes tend to follow, and a 'typical cadence'. Moreover, these modes can have 'sub-modes' which tend to follow when the main mode gets established.

To me reading this, I can kind of imagine the process of composing/improvisation within this system almost like a state machine. It's not just that you have a scale, you have a certain state you're in in the music (e.g. main mode or sub-mode), and a set of transitional moves you can potentially make for the next segment. That's probably too rigid a model though. There's also a more specific aspect discussed in the book that a klezmer musician needs to know how to move between their repertoire of klezmer pieces - what pieces can sensibly follow from what.

Ultimately, I don't want to give you a long list of stuff to memorise. (Sure, if you want to play klezmer, you probably need to get familiar with how to use these modes, but that's between you and your klezmer group). Rather I want to make sure we don't have any illusion that the Western church modes are the only correct way to compose music.

Blues - can anyone agree?

Blues is a style of music developed by Black musicians in the American south in the late 1800s, directly or indirectly massively influential on just about every genre to follow, but especially jazz. It's got a very characteristic style defined by among other elements use of 'blue notes' that don't fit the standard diatonic scale. According to various theorists, you can add the blue notes to a scale to construct something called the 'blues scale'. According to certain other theorists, this exercise is futile, and Blues techniques can't be reduced to a scale.

So for the last part of today's whirlwind tour of scales, let's take a brief look at the blues...

There are a few different blues scales. The most popular definition seems to be a hexatonic scale. We'll start with the minor pentatonic scale, or in Japanese, the minor nironuki scale - which is to say we take the minor diatonic scale and delete positions 2 and 6. That gives:

minor nironuki (abs): 0, 3, 5, 7, 10, (12) minor nironuki (rel): 3, 2, 2, 3, 2

Now we need to add a new note, the 'flat fifth degree' of the original scale. In other words, 6 semitones above the root - the dreaded tritone!

hexatonic blues (abs): 0, 3, 5, 6, 7, 10, (12) hexatonic blues (rel): 3, 2, 1, 1, 3, 2

Easy enough right? Listen to that, it does sound kinda blues-y. But hold your horses! Moments after defining this scale, we read...

A major feature of the blues scale is the use of blue notes—notes that are played or sung microtonally, at a slightly higher or lower pitch than standard.[5] However, since blue notes are considered alternative inflections, a blues scale may be considered to not fit the traditional definition of a scale.

So, if you want to play blues, it's not enough to mechanically play a specific scale in 12TET. You also gotta break the palette a little bit.

There's also a 'major blues' heptatonic scale which goes 0, 2, 3, 4, 7, 9, according to one guy called Dan Greenblatt.

But that's not the only attempt to enumerate the 'blues scale'. Other authors will give you slightly longer scales. For example, if you ask Smallwood:

heptatonic blues (abs): 0, 2, 3, 5, 6, 9, 10, (12) heptatonic blues (rel): 2, 1, 2, 1, 3, 1, 2

which isn't quite a mode of any of those klezmer scales we saw previously, but nearly!

If you ask Benward and Saker, meanwhile, a Blues scale could actually be nonatonic scale, where you add flattened versions of a couple of notes to the major scale.

nonatonic blues (abs): 0, 2, 3/4, 5, 7, 9, 10/11, (12)

There's also an idea that you should play notes in between the semitones, i.e. quarter tones, which would be a freq ratio of the 24th root of 2 if you're keeping score at home.

The upshot of all this is probably that going too far formalise the blues is probably not in the spirit of the blues, but if you want to go in a blues-y direction it will probably mean insert an extra, flattened version of a note to one of your scales. Muck around and see what works, I guess!

Of course, there's a lot more to Blues than just tweaking a scale. For example, 'twelve bar blues' is a specific formalised chord progression that is especially universal in Jazz. What it means for chords to 'progress' is a whole subject, and I think that's the next thing I'll try to understand for post 3. Hopefully we'll be furnished with a slightly broader model of how music works as we go there though.

To wrap up, here's the spreadsheet showing all the 12TET scales encountered so far in this series in a visual way. There's obviously plenty more out there, but this is not ultimately a series about scales. It's all well and good to have a list of what exists, but it's pointless if we don't know how to use it.

Phew

Mind you even with all this, we haven't covered at all some of the most complex systems of tonal music - I've only made the vaguest gesture towards Indian classical music, Chinese music, Jazz... That's way beyond me at the moment. But maybe not forever.

Next up: I'm going to try and finally wrap my head around chords and make sense of what it means for them to 'progress', have 'movement' etc. And maybe render a bit more concrete the vague stuff I said about 'tension' and 'resolution'.

(Also: I definitely know I have friends on here who are very widely knowledgeable about music theory. If I've made any major mistakes, please let me know! At some point I hope to republish this series with nicer formatting on canmom.art, and it would be great to fix the bugs by then!)

#Youtube #music theory #music notes #music #notes #japanese music #gamelan #chinese music #klezmer #blues #i took my new adhd meds and hyperfocused on this all day instead of working ><

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divinesyn · 2 months

Note

Giselle scenario based on this song: https://youtu.be/GZZluy6EXkQ?si=4OXU-DA7Kq94kaOr

hi hi! the song comes off as super chill so i decided to go with a more fluffy vibe for this one hopefully it's okay 🥺

-x-

brief: based on this song pairing: idol!reader x giselle genre: fluff with minor [useless] plot oops

-x-

AN: Sorry for the delay, been chipping away at this super slowly because of work! Didn't have much time to proof read so things might not make sense and I haven't written in AGES. Hope you enjoy :(

Promotion periods were always considered a double-edged sword in your mind. A relentless cycle of obligations that you would have to keep up with, as a single misstep could easily break the equilibrium between your mental and physical demands. The constant glare of cameras and clamor of fans wrings you out eventually, but that was the reality of it all.

Thankfully, it wasn't you who was enduring it for the time being.

Your group had just concluded a final run of promotions two weeks ago and the reprieve was more than welcomed amongst you and your members alike. If anything it was just a few minor broadcasts and public apperances to maintain some extra momentum but those were spaced well apart where they wouldn't be cumbersome and resting was guaranteed. The only issue that you saw was, well, on your laptop screen right now.

A smile graces your lips at the sight of now raven-black hair, eyes locked on Aeri as you watch her position herself on stage amongst her members. Reflective stage paneling and idly looping graphics on the main screen bounce light across her features as you watch her eyes dart around in nervousness, but that easily fades as soon as the instrumental starts.

---

It seems that your lucky streak with promotion periods has ended, seeing as Aeri and your schedules have just narrowly missed each other for this month. Given your time was spent between a stage and at the company practice rooms, the time you and Aeri have spent together was essentially non-existent aside from the occasional video call and coffee meet. Even then those times are cut short by practices accompanied by rushed I love you's and don't forget to eat as the screen goes black. You stare longingly as she performs, making sure to send a you did amazing today text with an attached photo of your laptop screen, lips quirking down at the mismatched messages you two have sent from the past month.

As their performance ends, you wait patiently throughout the night before finally receiving a reply.

aeri: Thank you baby, miss you so much <3 aeri: Maybe we can meet up soon? Even if its a quick one? :(

---

To say the least, soon never really came.

The world seemed intent on keeping you two apart and the more you checked in on Aeri you could see her resolve chipping away. Even keeping yourself occupied was starting to become a challenge in itself and you find yourself checking your phone more often than you'd like as you sought out Aeri's attention. Despite all the posts she made on her social media you couldn't help but be more selfish in wanting to see her for yourself, something that isn't shared with her fans.

y/n: The choreo for my upcoming special clip with Haerin has been killing me TT

y/n: You guys finish with promotions soon right? Can finally see you soon

[Seen 37m ago]

Idly sitting on the polished floor of your company practice room, you gather up your belongings with a sigh as you ignore the slight aches in your body. Pressing your body against the door, the glass frame opens to a startled figure.

Equally startled your eyes track upward to a familiar face. One that you haven't seen in far too long.

'Aeri...?'

'Hey y/n'

Her voice sounds worn and the slightly concealed darkness under her eyes is a testimony to just how exhausted she is, but you can't refrain from the gradual welling of excitement in your body as you immediately wrap your arms around her. Taking note of the plastic bag she held in one of her hands, you tip-toed slightly to press your lips against hers.

'Missed you' Your lips parted slightly for you to mumble 'What are you doing here? Don't you have a schedule tomorrow?'

The nylon of her windbreaker rustles as she shakes her head with a grin, forehead pressing against yours briefly as she pulls away, her free hand resting lightly against your forearm.

'Ning and I have tomorrow free actually.' She gestures to herself with a flick of her hair 'So now I'm here.'

You couldn't help but chuckle though it fades as your lips quirk into a frown and Aeri is quick to notice the change.

'Is something wrong y/n?'

With a pout you meet her gaze 'Figured it would be better if you rested though, you look so tired'

Your hand reaches up to her cheek and she presses herself against it gently with a hum.

'Missed you too much to do that. Wanted to see you.' Her hand shakes the plastic bag with what you assumed to be food, mouth forming a lopsided grin. 'So how about dinner?'

---

You could always trust that the riverside was going to be busy regardless of the time but it was ambient enough for you two to pass through without being recognized, though the masks you two wore were just an extra precaution. Having been weeks on end without seeing Aeri you clung to her, arms looped as you braced the bite of the night air.

Exhausted and seemingly on edge for the past week Aeri found herself shedding the weight of expectations, her burdens melting away with each passing moment as you two meandered to a secluded spot to eat. In fact, it was her members who suggested that she go visit most likely tired of watching Aeri slouching around lovesick.

Masks strung around your jaws you ate in comfortable silence, littered with conversations about how their comeback was going and Aeri's plans of visiting her parents once they finished.

'You're free to come along as well you know. Mum loves having you around and I know you like bullying me with Dad...' Aeri chuckles, her breath fading into the darkness. 'Or we can hang out with the girls. Jimin said she wanted to go to those markets you mentioned a while ago.'

'Anything is oh-'

Aeri's thumb swipes at a drop of sauce from the corner of your lips before returning it to her mouth with a quirked brow.

'Oh?' She grins 'Continue baby'

You roll your eyes with an exasperated sigh.

'As I was saying,' You pause, teasingly glaring 'Anything is fine with you.'

'Three weeks away and as sweet as ever.'

Not even a beat passes as your lips meet hers, the warmth between the two of you transferring between the exchange. Surprised, Aeri quickly softened at the contact having realized that amidst the chaos of stardom, it was these stolen moments of intimacy that truly mattered. These nights of pure calm, far from the glare of the spotlight made her press into the kiss more in the hopes of savouring every second. You feel her reluctance as you pull away with a smile, heart overwhelmingly warm and full.

'For you? Always.'

#aespa x reader #aespa x fem reader #aespa fluff #aeri uchinaga #giselle x reader #aespa giselle #aespa imagines

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diluclover300 · 2 months

Text

Just One Week (1)

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Also posted on my ao3 account: diluclover300

CHAPTER INDEX:

I H8 U

My Kinda Fun

Balance

{S] Awake

Eggs and Rice

Wait, but I'm broke

Couple's Discount

CHAPTER 1: I H8 U

...

Ha. Ha. You roll your eyes, arms crossed before they unfold again. The elevator opens and you're back at the lobby of the building again. Ha. Ha.

You hate this place. Normal was so ordinary. So predictable. So boring. Blah!

Whatever, whatever, whatever. You just want to go home already. It's been a long day at work.

You walk, as the general population does, because even though you're special, and so different, you're human before any of that bull crap. Genetically, you're a programmed sheep. Mentally, you stick out like a sore thumb.

And you walk with the help of wired earbuds, ones that you grabbed at the nearest department store. You understand why people can't leave the house without these babies. They're so convenient, a socially accepted escape from the real world.

Selfishly, as it should be, you're listening to the same sickly sweet, syrupy-lyric filled song. Generic, yet so stupid catchy that even a zombie would dumbly mumble it in its sleep. With it's unintelligible voice, muddy and groggy as it lowly moans the melody. Like pure mush, frothing with spit.

Love. Love. Love. A boyband, the popular one you've loved since highschool, is singing about what sells— sex. Oh, baby. I want you. I love you. Give me all of you. Kiss me until I can't breath, wrap me with your heat.

You understand the gist of it, don't you? Because you certainly do.

Bouncy, your steps are, almost preppy that you feel like everyone else. You suppose that's fine for now. You're forcibly, undeniably put into a swarm of people. People that will always be like you. Vise versa. It's the way of life.

Same old.

Beep. Your lanyard scans across the kind of thing you'd see in a new-york subway. Too bad you're across the globe in Japan, in some remote town, so you don't live miles away from the famous–or was it infamous– you don't know, times square. Boring.

You suck in a hefty amount of hair, and it's humiliating when you push the door that so politely–and obviously— asks to be pulled. Wow. You turn back to confirm that no one has just seen you do that. But you're suddenly biting back another heap of cringe mixed with embarrassment when you realize that someone behind you blankly stares at you. Probably to hurry up so that they could get out too.

"Oops." You laugh, but they don't. "Sorry about–"

"Are you going to open that door?"

"Oh, uh, yes. I am."

Right. You pull the handle of the door that you've touched thousands of times.

The breeze hits you and as physics do, your hair whips across your face, sprawling over your dry, cracked lips. You push on, steps now long strides. You're fighting with the wind and it's terrible.

Welp. That was life. Mother nature wasn't, never was, kind to you.

Another idiotic event, another "let's make a fool out of Y/N" moment. You fold your arms underneath the crevice of your chest, that white button up so thin you're sure that you've developed hypothermia in the last few minutes you've been walking.

Another sigh. Then you realize it looks hopeless, and stupid. Then you wipe your cheek, holding your lips together and realize that looks equally awkward. Damn.

Incident after incident. Mistake after mistake. Everything feels like a math equation, and it's all adding up to make you look a fool.

At least nothing too terrible happened today.

Then, as if it was clockwork, an ominous feeling began to settle in the depths of your heart. As if your instincts were telling you to run.

You don't. Your hopes of a normal day, your suspicions of having a great day are so terribly...

Wrong. You look up and see the face that you don't want to see. The face that looks back at you like a mirror, the face who's lips turn up into a slight smile. The face who's glasses tip down his rather long, yet socially accepted nose. The face who's eyes are freakishly blue, who's eyes would receive the predictable comparison– "Hey, your eyes look just like the sky."

This can't be real.

This can't be happening.

Maybe today wasn't destined to be a good day, but there was no way in hell, no way that things could go this south.

A bad day was when you got in trouble during work, when someone's kid spilled your burning hot coffee all over your new white clothes. Bad was when...

Bad was when Gojo Satoru wasn't here.

Terrible was when he was.

"Hi." He holds his hand up, palm open, fingers spread into a wave. "It's been a while."

Your chest tightens, air contracting the thing like a damn accordion. He's definitely a fair distance from you, standing beneath the trees, far from the stairs leading up to the building behind you both. Traffic bustles a couple more feet away, and that same song, on repeat, buzzes in your ear like a mosquito.

Love. You seem to feel everything but that at the sight of his face.

"Gojo." The breeze slaps against your skin, stinging as it leaves it's harsh marks. Your fingers travel down to the hems of your skirt, and you fidget with the cloth.

You're anxious, not as you envisioned the hundreds of other times you mulled over this sort of situation. Instead of holding your head up high, you're cowering, heart wrenching, the lines you so carefully wrote, seared into your mind escaping your tongue.

"Gojo?" Ha. Ha. Real funny, you think as he mocks you.

It makes you angry. Why did he, how did he have, how was he not– where was his shame? After five years? Did he just realize you were gone after all this time?

You don't want to ask, but you do.

"Why are you–"

"What happened to Satoru? Don't be so formal. It's only been five years."

"The name disgusts me."

You're silent as he steps forward, a bouquet of flowers tucked underneath his armpit. He's decked out in all black, not that you care, or that it's any different from how he was a few years back. If anything, he's the exact same. Unchanged.

It makes your blood boil.

"Ah. Look at you. You've changed."

He chides, crouching down as if he's trying to taunt a child. You bite back the strange croak in your throat.

"Your turn. What about me? Say something."

No. Please. "Don't do this to me."

His lips, as if pulled by a set of strings, ghost a smile. Those eyes exposed, bare through those glasses as they reflect the pathetic image of you. Your expression which tries to hard to look expressionless. The scrunch of your eyebrows as you look down at him.

No, he's looking down on you. Even though it should be the opposite.

"You look the same." It's robotic, the usual cadence of your voice he so remembers void of emotion.

It's true. He does.

"Oh? You're cold. So cold." He tilts his head, a strand of hair falling in between his eyes as he gives you a slight pout.

And, you? You're not the same as you were before.

"I know." You step back. "People tell me that all the time."

You feel so... so...

Was pathetic the right word? It didn't even do the situation justice.

Wow. Honestly, you never wanted to admit this, but you've always imagined this sort of thing happening. A reunion, to put it simply and you'd always imagine such witty responses, such great comebacks.

However, you're no different from everyone else. Not underneath the umbrella of fear. However, you're not even shielded from those raindrops of confrontation.

You're soaked. The umbrella's defective. You can't bring yourself to say the words you practiced, to put an end to the tortuous fire in your heart.

Because as much as you want to hear those answers, you're afraid of the void that lies beneath them.

"Is that something to brag about these days?" He straightens up, the plastic lining of the bouquet crinkling.

You shrug as answer, but your eyes stick onto the floor like a piece of gum. They've rolled out of their sockets, breeze guiding them along the concrete.

Satoru whistles for a moment, eyes careful as they study your figure.

A white button up shirt, tucked into a pencil skirt, glasses that usually wouldn't suit you because you were the contact lens type, flats because he could never imagine you walking down a flight of stairs in heels.

Though you've fallen to the inevitable concept of change, you're still...

Oh. He's forgot to mention that you've been listening to music this whole time. It's noticeable now. Partly because you're wearing wired headphones, and partly because he can hear the faintest bit of singing coming from your direction.

"Whatcha listening to?"

You peek up, and for the first time in years, he's properly– no, you're making eye contact with him.

"It's the new XXX song. Do you remember when I..."

What the hell?

He never tried to stop you back then.

Why would he remember a single thing about you?

"Nevermind." You look away, and he swears he sees the faintest film of water pooling against your eyes. "You wouldn't know."

Yeah. You're the same as ever.

"Oh. You still like that group?"

You nod, and he swears he can see the faint image of you from highschool. Nodding along to the sound of your mp3 player, busted around the corners as it rests on the edge of your desk, threatening to fall. And when it did, he'd usually catch it before pulling out your earbuds.

Then you'd grumble at him, call him a "bastard" or a "piece of shit". And he'd laugh, loud enough that people would turn their heads.

Weird. A wave of nostalgia hits him.

"Ha." The thought of it makes him snicker. God. He was such an asshole. "Haha."

Look at how the tables turned. It's painful that you're so rough around the edges now. You're barely smiling, and now there's an offended look trespassing your lips and eyes.

You're angry again. So angry that the image of your smile is trampled on, dirtied by a frown.

It's like throwing away a perfectly good slice of cake.

Satoru decides he hates it. The look of it is sickening, the thought of it is unappetizing, the existence of it is...

"What are you–"

"Come back to Jujutsu High and help me teach."

As he expects, and the revelation behind it frustrates him, you've gone completely unresponsive. What he's realized is that you're just existing through your life.

You've been wasting time. And now you're just going to ignore him. No matter how right he is.

"Y/N. Can you hear me?"

You don't answer for a long while, slowly ripping out each earbud as you stuff it into the pocket of your shirt. The question, the request is... it's...

Disgustingly selfish. Did he only think for himself? Did he only care for himself?

Of course he did. Of course he did.

He's Gojo Satoru.

"Why did you come here? Go home."

"For you. Come back and be a Jujutsu sorcerer again–" He doesn't waste a singular second, as if he was reading off a script to some terrible horror movie.

You feel sick.

"No." You spit out. "You don't know what I want, you can't tell me what to do either."

You want to laugh, you can't believe all this bullshit.

You can't believe that after all the trouble you went through to fit in, you're going back to square one. Like a baby trying to learn how to walk all over again.

All the trouble you went through to convince yourself that you were still special despite being so, despite living so normally now.

All the trouble you went through to ignore those cursed spirits.

All those sacrifices you made, those risks you took.

You can't believe that it's all going down the drain like this, like your struggles are the water to someone else's shower.

Could you be easily discarded like that? Like trash?

Wrong. Incorrect. Wrong. Nothing could be more... wrong.

No, you're different. Important. Nothing like trash. Incomparable. If there was a mold, you'd break it. If there was an expectation, you'd exceed it. If there was...

If there was...

There's nothing because he... he's...

Gojo Satoru is stepping on your sob story like it's a piece of gum, smearing it with the sole of his shoe.

He tries to intervene with your peace, picking apart at your facade, your play-pretend act of tranquility.

"I know what you want–"

You don't even give him the chance to finish.

"It's been five years."

He knows. You don't have to remind him that it's been that long.

"So?"

"You don't know a thing about me, Gojo."

"I do." He steps forward. "And what do those people back there know about you?" Then he points back at your workplace.

You grimace, aware that what you're about to say is an obvious, a bitter lie. He knows it too, but you say it anyway.

"They know a lot about me." You bite back, desperately trying to save face. "So much more than you do."

When you force that out, it dawns on you. The fact that you have to lie about something so insignificant to prove that you're doing just fine to some asshole you haven't seen in five years.

"Like what? Your favorite member in that stupid boyband?"

"They're not stupid! Okay? They're– They're...!" You stumble over your words, voice coming out louder than you anticipate.

Damn it. Now everyone around you is staring like a bunch of sheep, the same kind back at work, relishing in an argument– no, a conversation – that they had no rightful part in.

"They don't know anything about you, do they?" He whispers, a pitiful expression on his face when he sees how worked up you've gotten. "Be honest with me then. What do you want?"

"Honest? You want me to be honest?"

"Well, yes. I'd like that."

"Fine then. I want to fight you right now because I hate you."

"Sure."

"You make me sick."

"Okay."

"I want to–"

"I already said okay."

...

#fanfic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #eventual smut #eventual romance #romance #angst #drama #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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davidtennantgenderenvy · 5 months

Text

eternal youth is overrated - a good omens one shot

Summary: Heartbreak and loneliness have left Crowley marked in more ways than one. Aziraphale helps him see that this isn’t such a bad thing.

NOTES: I’ve always had a bit of a bittersweet fascination with aging (David Tennant’s crows’ feet make me emo in ways I cannot hope to describe), with the sadness but also the beauty inherent in it, and I thought it could be interesting to bring this idea to good omens. The concept was “what if Crowley started getting grey hairs after Aziraphale leaves, if, over time, his physical appearance subconsciously changed to reflect his mental state?” The fact that I wrote this as a 19 year old honestly just shows how much I need therapy, but it was honestly incredibly cathartic to work through some of my own mental struggles via Crowley in this fic. Aziraphale’s pov was equally fun to write, as I basically just got to write how he feels about Crowley based on what I feel about David (lol). Hope you enjoy my first Good Omens one shot- I may or may not make an A03 account if it gets enough engagement, I’m honestly pretty proud of it! Special thanks to my wonderful partner in crime @flyingfluse for providing some much needed inspiration!

PS: The title is actually from a song I wrote called Grow Old With Me (hopefully will be available someday fingers crossed)

——————

It had been a year.

Nothing to a demon, really. In the vast expanse of six thousand years on earth, not to mention the innumerable eons Before The Beginning, a year didn’t count for much more than a blip. But heartbreak is a funny thing. Time, for Crowley, now seemed to pass in a much more human fashion- the year that had elapsed since Aziraphale’s return to heaven, a year devoid of anything resembling laughter or joy, a year spent largely either sleeping or stewing in self-loathing, had seemed longer than the past hundred combined.

Crowley’s gaze blearily wandered to the rearview mirror of the Bentley. His reflection, as everything seemed to these days, mocked him.

Those sickly yellow eyes, reminding him of all he was and all that he could never be, like the sulfur he had been cast into all those millenia ago. On his worst days, it was like he could still feel it, eating away at him from the inside out, decaying his soul and with it, his body. It carved shadows into his cheeks and circles beneath his eyes, deep and dark as caverns. It rose in his throat until he choked on it, leaving his voice hoarse and acrid. It spewed out of him onto everything and everyone, every time he opened his mouth, an acidic bile of rage and bitterness.

He had been destroyed and rebuilt over and over through the millenia, and the product was a rough, hardened callus of a being, like a patch of skin that had been picked at too many times. He felt grotesque, untouchable, damaged- there would be no point to pursuing any new connections when no one would understand, nor why would they want to, when he seemed to turn everything he held to ashes?

A ray of sunlight leaked through the window of the Bentley, catching upon Crowley’s hair, revealing it to be littered with strands of grey, collecting dust-like in his copper mane. How the mighty have fallen, he thought bitterly. Falling, always falling, like leaves in autumn, their color draining as their forms grow brittle and they become one with the earth. From dust they were made, and to dust, they shall return.

Perhaps in a year, he would be dust too. What would he care?

Demons didn’t naturally age, or so he had thought. But loneliness seemed to have made a mortal out of Crowley, centuries of it crashing down upon his corporation, wearing it to the bones, etching his torment into his skin. He could always just miracle any part of himself back to the way it was, reverse all this damned erosion… but what would it matter? Why even try to keep his hair from losing its color when all the color had drained from his life the second his angel had left it?

He felt so, so old.

A single, desperate sob escaped Crowley’s mouth, cracking out of him like splintering firewood.

As he weeped against the steering wheel, the Bentley switched on its radio in sympathy.

I’ve walked too long in this lonely lane,

I’ve had enough of this same old game.

I’m a man of the world, they say that I’m strong,

But my heart is heavy and my hope is gone.

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

The demon lay curled in Aziraphale’s lap, clinging to his chest as a snake might in search of warmth. It clutched at Aziraphale’s soul to see Crowley this vulnerable, the swaggering and smirking stripped away to reveal a heart in desperate need of care and healing- a task Aziraphale considered his greatest duty and greatest pleasure, for he knew Crowley would do the same for him.

Aziraphale ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair, earning a deep sigh from his beloved, whose brows turned up in fragile, stirring comfort. He loved doing this, both to see how much his touch moved Crowley and because he simply loved his hair itself. Bold, striking, an instant head-turner, just like everything else about him. It was now the longest it had been since biblical times, falling in elegant waves past his shoulders. But oh, something else was different… it was streaked now with rivers of silver, gathering in deltas at his temples. It lit a familiar flame in Aziraphale’s chest; that bittersweet blend of desire and sympathy.

“You’ve changed your hair, I see”, he said softly.

Crowley takes a labored swallow, strain and self consciousness seeping into his face. Whatever he says next, it’s clear that the admission is going to cost him.

“When you left, I suppose I… let myself wither away.” His voice is lodged deep in his throat, thick and murky, leaking out of him like tar, a sound from the depths of his own personal hell. “Oh, Aziraphale…” he exhales, and it’s one of the most poignant Aziraphale has ever heard. “I’m so tired. So worn down. So bloody ancient.”

“So am I, my dear,” he says, trying to come across more soothing than concerned.

“Yes, but you still shine in the same way you did all those millenia ago… still so bright, so soft. I’m all tarnished and rusted up… I don’t know how you still want to touch me.”

Aziraphale gazed down into Crowley’s eyes, piercing and pleading and fragile, like shattered stained glass. At his craggy, rough-hewn cheeks, all bones and edges he’d happily cut himself on to caress. At the deep, deep lines around his eyes, carved there by every grin and grimace and longing and ache. And oh, the silver in his hair… it suited him so, both rejecting and combining black and white with a color all his own. It wasn’t normal for immortal bodies, ethereal or occult, to bear the marks of time and experience as Crowley’s has. But then, Crowley was never an ordinary demon, or angel, was he? No, he was something far more exquisite.

“Oh, but I do… I do…” Affection surges through Aziraphale as he kisses every crease and wrinkle, every scar and every glorious grey, every sign that his dear Crowley has lived. He feels Crowley’s hands winding through his hair in response and kisses those too, those eloquent, spindly fingers and calloused palms…

“Crowley, my most cherished books… the covers are peeling, the pages are torn or yellowed with age… so why would you be any different?” His heart seizes up, his voice breaking a bit. “I have seen the fire and rain rage within you for so long, and I have seen the marks they have left upon you, and each one is precious to me. You know how I love to read… Why would I not want to see the story of my beloved written upon their face? My

dear old serpent, my survivor…you don’t have to fight anymore…”

He pulls Crowley tightly to his chest, drawing the tension from his shoulders and back before cupping the sides of his face as Crowley stares back, looking overwhelmed and old and so, so beautiful. “I want you exactly as you are. Rough and hard and frayed at the edges… you will never be too much of any of these things for me. In fact…” A slightly wicked twinkle forms in his eye as he smiles pointedly at Crowley: “They make you more tempting to me than ever.”

Crowley processes this for a moment. “Well…” he croaks out, that hint of playful snark finding its way back into his throaty timbre, “I suppose there is something to be said for… shades of grey.” Aziraphale laughs, remembering the words he himself said to Crowley all those years ago, on the same night he realized just how much he adored him.

Crowley smiles, that crooked, twisted, perfectly imperfect smile that Aziraphale missed, his eyes crinkling magnificently at the corners. “Kiss me,” he whispers, and Aziraphale is happy to oblige. Happy that Crowley, bold, fierce, independent Crowley, could finally let his guard down, could finally embrace that all of his scars and imperfections, every mark of time upon his face, everything he ever thought made him damaged and ugly only made him more beautiful in his sight.

#good omens #Ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #david tennant #michael sheen #fanfiction #fanfic #hurt/comfort #Pro-aging #Anyone who has ever wanted to read Crowley with grey hair this is for you #Song: mother love by queen

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gryphis-eyes · 2 years

Text

⊙ What makes you different fantastic

⊙ Hello and welcome to this Fantastic Mr Fox themed reading ! It’s one of my favorite comfort movie so I felt like sharing this with you ! I hope this pac will remind you how fantastic you are because hey it’s always nice to read it especially in time of doubts.

⊙ How to pick a pile ? There are differents ways to do it, you can do a little meditation while thinking about the 3 images, you can also use a pendulum, remember to listen to your intuition while chosing and reading the messages those are general reading so not everything will be for you or it will ask you to interpret it based on your situation. Also I like making metaphor hehe

◇ Deck used : Gulliver Lenormand

♧ Paid reading

⊙ Pile 1, Kris

🦊 Clouds, Snake, Lily flower

You are fantastic because you are made of so many shades, what makes you fantastic is actually what ”society” view as bad/evil. You’re like a forest at night, it’s welcoming and mysterious going into it (your personnality) can be both scary and fantastic experience depending on who chose to walk into this forest. I can even say you’re both the day and night with your personnality and there might be a conflict between your ”two personnalities” just like the snake you can bite and maybe even use your venom against people but this poison is also capable of healing. The reason why this darker aspect of you is more present in front of your true self is probably because of a very rough past (or path ?). What is fantastic about this shadow is your relationship with it because it seems so peaceful yet dangerous, just like the night. After all people don’t like clouds and snakes, for the few who likes it they are viewed as unusual and even weird but there is so much beauty in them, behind those clouds and this snake lies a lily flower, its purity is equaled only by the ardor of the brambles that surround it. This flower will be forever your most precious gift just as much as the shadow who protect it, not everyone will be allowed to seek this treasure within you and it’s what’s makes you fantastic, you’re a beautiful treasure guarded by a majestic dragon.

♤ Your theme : Cosmo Sheldrake - Nightjar

⊙ Pile 2, Mr.Fox

🦊 Moon, Heart, Fox + bouquet and coffin

I can see behind your mask pile 2 the cards never lie 👁👁. Something funny happened while shuffling, I started the normal spread (so ask for 3 cards) the bouquet and coffin came first then 3 cards fell and when I looked at them I heard ”those are the real one”... so someone is acting like someone else here ? The coffin and bouquet togheter make it feel like this is a fake bouquet I would even say ”regress” because bouquet is card 9 and the coffin 8. What im sure about is that this little masquerade isn’t what makes you fantastic however I can see that the beautiful face behind this mask really worth it ! I heard ”such a gentle soul makes me wanna cry” while the lyrics of the song I listened to was ”gentle sound” but I felt like writing the one I heard. You look kinda nervous when people see you removing this mask ? The Moon on the card looks like she is shaking, the heart beating fast and the fox looks schocked but no need to react like that you seem to be a very gentle person (I would even say cute *wink wink*) for those of you who saw the movie Green Knight you really remind me of the fox in this movie, it follow the protagonist and then guide him in a mysterious territory full of magic and strange creatures. What makes you beautiful is both what’s inside and outside of you, your presence feels like a wild animal who looks beautiful but would probably run away if you approach it while actually if you truly want to approach it you have to be patient and gentle. You’re distant yet beautiful and tempting just like the Moon you might not make as much light as the sun but it makes it even more special and above everything, it’s what makes your world appear mysterious yet fantastic. Your heart seems so pure it might makes people jealous of it or wants to take it, just like every hunter who try to get the fox’s fur but of course the fox is too cunning for them and the fox will always laugh at the hunter who fail to catch him. You seem to have some vicious side but it’s a very fun side of you. You might try to be this pretty but fake flower bouquet while in reality you’re just like Mr.Fox no matter what you do you can’t escape your true self because in the end you’re a wild animal.

♤ Your theme : The Crane Wives - Curses

⊙ Pile 3, Ash

🦊 Ship, Knight, Coffin

You seem to be the perfect person to be the hero of a story about a long journey of hardship. You went through it all, storms, calm water, hell you might even went in the underworld and came back like if it was just an other journey and moved on for the next one. You are brave and adventurous even fear can’t keep you or if it does catch you it never last very long, you’re a knight in shining armor but what is special is that your armor isn’t white or gold but it’s a shining black metal because you aren’t afraid to show where you come from after all we all got our shadow aspects. It’s like you met death (from the Death card in the Rider waite) you both ride on a white horse and you both wear this black armor I could write a whole story about you pile 3 haha. You understand obscur secret you might be very fond of occult the theme of death doesn’t scare you at all if you’re into spirituality/occultism it might even be so natural for you to meet spirits, you greet them like someone would greet their neighbour. You’re independent your only companion is this horse who can represent a guardian spirit who was with you since the begining of your time down here, they guided and protected you during the whole journey and it will continue. You’re this mystic stranger who come out of nowhere and after doing what you have to do in one place you leave in silent ready to go to this next journey, people probably admire you a lot but also feel like they can’t reach you or keep you, your remind me of Ashitaka from Princess Mononoke.

♤ Your theme : Florence and the machines - Which Witch

#pick a card #gryphis #divination #pick a pile #pac #free readings

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lesbiansforboromir · 2 months

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There's been a trend, around for a long time, that I think started in sci-fi and bled over into fantasy that I always found curious: 'Humanity, Fuck Yeah!'. It's not just that humans are special or unique, it's where a setting and the strange elements of it are diametrically opposed to the familiar perspective of humanity. That the world of magic and creatures (or with sci-fi, aliens and stars), is always in some manner of conflict with the human world, and so the story showcases humans triumphantly overcoming this strange unknown. It's not always portrayed in such a conquest/exploration mindset; sometimes it's Warhammer, others it's Pacific Rim, other times its Star Trek and elsewhere its Starship Troopers. Do you see any elements of this 'Onward, Humanity!' in Tolkien's works? I know he ends the timeline with the fading of magic and elves and all that, but this can be interpreted tragically pretty easily. Like, on a scale of 1 (Humans Are The Worst of All) to 7 (Humans Are The Best of All), where would Tolkien's world overall land?

That's a very good question actually let me think about it 🤔

Instinctually what I want to say is Tolkien has 'humanity, oh no' more than anything else. Lotr in general contains a mirriad of colonialist/conquest/exploration type aspects, but the sense of human positivity is decidedly lacking. Humanity also does not really 'win' against magic, nor is 'magic' or 'the unknown wilds of the world' actually what they are fighting against. They're fighting against satan and heresy and it's heresy within humans that is what is ultimately damaging the world around them. Again, very catholic. Humans are also in no way special or unique, unless it's in how easily they are corrupted by heresy.

In fact humanity in middle earth reached it's own peak during a time of far greater contact with elves and magic etc (but elves and magic are holy so it's really more about having greater contact with divinity). Humans are aided by elves and other magical creatures, and it is their lessening of contact with them that spells their '''decline''' (apparently, if tolkien says so I guess)

So no, I'd say whilst Tolkien himself was very enamoured with the idea of sailing off to some new pristine world and 'taming' it (song of hiawatha was a favourite of his apparently) within lotr 'onwards humanity' does not really suit. In fact I'd say it's more like 'ugh humans, I guess we are also humans and therefore we should be alright in the end but what if humanity is a disease?' Lotr has massive amounts of that kind of eco-activism that's highly lauding of the 'natural state of things' (a state that does not exist really) and honestly I think the books have done quite a bit of damage to people's perceptions of what sustainable living and ecological progress should look like. So, essentially the opposite of 'onwards humanity' but equally problematic.

#chats #Anonymous

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cal-a-bungaa · 1 year

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Eternity

Eternity - Jake Kiszka

Synopsis: For eternity you are his and he is yours

Word count: 953

Warnings: prepare your heart for this.

Enjoy!

__________

Just over the horizon was the beginning of a setting sun, ready to give the moon its chance to shine. Music played and the night was alive. You watched as your combined friends and families mingled and danced with the corners of your lips slightly upturned. You’d occasionally flick your eyes around the beautifully decorated room in search of the one you vowed yourself to, finding him in a different location each time you did so.

As time passed and the higher the moon rose, the more people excused themselves for the night with congratulations and hugs. The time grew closer to having just a moment with you and him. And while you looked forward to that time, you also didn’t want this day to come to an end. It was everything you could’ve imagined it to be. From the beautiful silk that draped from you, the flower arrangements to the man you now called yours forever, it was all perfect. A real dream come true. The days of stress and constant planning concluded in a day you’d never forget.

The last guest approached you, the twin of your newly pronounced husband. He was grinning from ear to ear, pulling you from your seat to wrap you in his arms. “He’s all yours,” he whispers in your ear before kissing your temple and bidding you goodnight.

Your love stood still in the place where he said his goodbye to his brother, watching you in a way that had your heart racing. You felt shy under his gaze but knew better than to look away from him. His hand reached out, palm up, inviting you to join him on the now empty floor. The flames of the candles flickered away atop of the unoccupied tables. His eyes followed you with each step you took towards him, taking in the sight of you for the upteenth time that night. He couldn’t believe his eyes of how breathtaking you looked draped in white with the ring he placed upon your finger glimmering in the dim light.

Upon reaching your husband, he serves you a boyish grin. “May I have this dance, Mrs. Kiszka?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Why of course you can,” You place your hand in his, swiping your finger over the black band wrapped around his finger, “Mr. Kiszka.” He huffs out a low chuckle.

A slow song echoes through the quiet room followed by the soft sound of your combined footsteps as you swayed along. His arms wrapped themselves around your waist while yours tangled behind his shoulders. Your ear pressed against his chest, feeling the soft pounding of his heart beneath. All of your senses were clouded with him and the love you felt for him.

Your husband pulls back to press his lips against your skin before connecting his forehead to yours. “Have I told you how beautiful you look?”

“I can’t recall. Wanna tell me again to see if it comes back to me?”

“I’ll remind you as many times as it takes, my love.” Opening your eyes, you meet his own.

Continuing to sway to the music, the comfortable silence returns before your husband whispers to you the vows he shared hours previously.

“I pledge to you that yours will be the name I cry aloud in the middle of the night,” Tears prick your eyes.

“And the eyes into which I smile in the morning.”

In a shaky voice, “Jacob..” you say.

One of the hands that resided on your hip, cups the side of your face, bringing your lips to meet his. “Sh my love, I know.” he says before continuing on. “I pledge to you the first bite of my meat,”

“And the first drink from my cup.”

The song comes to an end and another plays, just as special and slow.

“I pledge to you my living and dying, equally in your care,”

One small tear rolls down your cheek to be swiped away by his thumb.

“And tell no strangers our grievances.”

His lips turn up in a soft smile. “This is my wedding vow to you.”

You cut him off, reciting the last line yourself, “This is a marriage of equals.”

Opening your eyes once again, you are still met with his gaze, but this time tears well up just as yours are. Unwinding your arms around his neck, you hold his face in your palms.

“I am so in love with you, Jacob Kiszka.”

With no words, your husband connects your lips together for a passionate kiss. His soft lips rest upon yours until he has to break apart for a breath. Jake’s lips travel from yours to the expanse of your throat, peppering your skin with feathery light kisses.

Whispering against the spot under your ear that makes you weak in the knees, he pronounces his love for you. “I will love you forever,” He pauses. “My wife.”

More tears roll down your cheeks and you can’t do anything to stop them. You’re so overcome with love and joy of now being husband and wife with your soulmate. Yet another song comes to an end and you’ve long since stopped dancing along. You break away from your partner to clear your face of any remaining tears as he chuckles quietly at how much you’re crying over the vows he spoke.

“Forever? That’s a long time, Jacob.”

“For eternity, I am yours and you are mine.”

“As long as we both shall live.”

“I promise you, love, I will continue to love you even in death.”

Your love and promises are sealed with one last kiss before your husband whisks you home to show you just how much he loves you.

#jake kiszka #gvf imagine #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet x reader #Greta van fleet fluff #gvf x reader #jake x reader #jake kiszka imagine #Jake kiszka fic

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swan-of-sunrise · 18 days

Text

Hawkeye (Part IV)

Summary: Christmas Day arrives and while (Y/N) and Steve enjoy a quiet day with their daughter, a familiar face pays them an unexpected but ultimately welcomed visit.

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Hi guys! We've finally made it to the last chapter of this little mini-series and trust me, there's no content warnings but you'll for sure wanna read this with a box of tissues nearby lol thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Hawkeye (Part IV) December 25th, 2024 The Home of (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and Steve Rogers, Brooklyn (Previous Chapter)

Christmas Day had finally arrived, and the Rogers-(Y/L/N) family spent their morning amidst a flurry of shredded wrapping paper, discarded ribbons and cast-off decorative bows, their home overflowing with holiday cheer. The television was turned on to a broadcast of the Yule Log and while Christmas music played faintly in the background, the scent of (Y/N)’s famous hot coca and Steve’s homemade cinnamon rolls combined with the smell of fresh pine emanating from their sizable tree to create a warm, heavenly aroma. Outside, snow leisurely came down from the cloudy sky, dusting their lawn and the near-deserted street and creating a tranquil landscape that (Y/N) couldn’t help but admire each time she glanced out their windows.

Carina, after tearing through all the presents she’d gotten from her parents and her many aunts and uncles, was sitting content on the floor of the living room and playing with her brand-new Mega Bloks while Indy, whose fur had been lovingly decorated with bows by the enthusiastic fifteen-month-old, was curled up in his dog bed by the heat vent and munching on his new bone. (Y/N) and Steve took advantage of the peace and quiet to exchange gifts with one another; they initially agreed on giving something small and possibly handmade, but it quickly became apparent that they both went behind each other’s back and splurged on one another. (Y/N) beamed with joy when she opened her expertly wrapped package to reveal a handmade cassette mixtape, featuring various songs that had special meaning to the two of them and their relationship, and her jaw subsequently dropped when she withdrew a gorgeous antique pearl necklace. Steve laughed in delight when he pulled a custom Viewmaster out of his box, marveling at all the pictures of their life together she’d added to its many reels, and his azure eyes went wide when he saw the autographed 1941 Pee Wee Reese – one of his all-time favorite Brooklyn Dodgers players – baseball card tucked into a hard protective sleeve.

It was then that (Y/N) and Steve finally unsealed the envelope that Dr. Prince had prepared for them together, scanning their most recent sonogram and gasping in unison when they read ‘It’s A Girl!’ printed along the bottom. “We’re having another girl!” Steve exclaimed and (Y/N) laughed in delight as his hands came up to cradle her face and he captured her lips in an enthusiastic kiss; when they came up for air, he pulled her into a tight hug and murmured into her ear, “I told you so…”

(Y/N) playfully dug her fingers into his sides, smirking at his surprised yelp and leaning back to meet his mirthful gaze. “Come July, you and Indy are going to be outnumbered around here.”

Grinning, Steve trailed kisses along her jaw and towards her smiling, kiss-swollen lips. “We wouldn’t want it any other way, sunshine.”

Some time later, they FaceTimed their friends one by one to share their happy news with them. The Barton’s and Kate Bishop were thrilled, and (Y/N) was pleased to see how much the young archer was enjoying spending Christmas Day with her new partner and his family; the Wilson family was equally ecstatic, with AJ and Cass letting out a cheer at the news and Sarah immediately listing off various foods that would help with her lingering nausea, and they all burst into laughter when a disgruntled Sam reached into his wallet and handed a folded bill over to a smug-looking Bucky. Everyone else they contacted – Bruce, Scott, Rhodey, Pepper, Brunnhilde, Carol, Wong and the Guardians of the Galaxy – seemed to be enjoying a wonderful holiday season with their own families and they all eagerly congratulated them on their second pregnancy; none of them said anything, but (Y/N) could tell that they were relieved to see another signal that life was slowly but surely returning back to normal after Thanos and the Snap.

“Shouldn’t you put the ham in the oven soon?” (Y/N) asked, her arm outstretched to grab a wayward scrap of wrapping paper that somehow ended up underneath the armchair. When she finally succeeded in grabbing it, she sat up with a tired huff but frowned once she realized that her husband hadn’t answered her; glancing over her shoulder, she smiled to herself as she watched Steve and Carina stacking her new blocks together, both wearing near identical looks of concentration as they completed their task. Like father like daughter, she thought with an inward chuckle before pointedly clearing her throat. “Sweetheart? The ham?”

Steve’s head shot up and his brows rose in surprise as he craned his neck to look at the clock hanging over the entryway. “Time sure flies when you’re having fun, doesn’t it? I’ll be back in a minute, angel.” He kissed the top of the infant’s head and let her continue playing before standing up and walking over to where (Y/N) was kneeling, offering her a hand and helping her clamber to her feet. “What’s that look for, sunshine?”

“Do I need a specific reason to admire my handsome husband and his newfound appreciation for toddler architecture?” She countered with a teasing smile.

Chuckling, one of Steve’s hand rested on her waist while the other moved to cradle her cheek. “I suppose not, but I’m afraid it’ll cost you a kiss.” He leaned in and planted a swift kiss onto her forehead. “One more.” His lips brushed against the bridge of her nose and she giggled at the ticklish sensation. “Wait a sec, one more.”

“Steve!”

“Nope, that last one didn’t count.” Steve gave her cheek an over-exaggerated kiss, a devious smirk playing on his lips as she laughed. “One more, baby.”

“Steven Grant Rogers, I’m carrying your child and if I don’t eat something soon, I promise that you’re going to live to regret it.” Her half-hearted threat went unnoticed by her husband, who was preoccupied with peppering kisses along her jawline, so she was forced to place her hands on his chest and firmly push him away with a laugh. “Go!”

With a playful wink, Steve turned and sauntered into the kitchen to prepare their Christmas Day dinner, and (Y/N) looked over at Carina with an exasperated sigh. “Your Dada’s silly, isn’t he, lemon drop?” She chuckled when the infant giggled and clapped her chubby hands together, leaning down to ruffle her daughter’s (Y/H/C) hair and letting her continue stacking her blocks while she gathered up the rest of the wrapping paper; after she crammed the last of it into her brown recycling bag, she carried it into the kitchen and set it down by the back door to dispose of later. Steve was setting the oven’s timer when she sidled up beside him and leaned in to kiss his cheek, but the sound of their doorbell ringing throughout their otherwise quiet home interrupted her.

“We didn’t invite anyone over, did we?” Steve asked and when (Y/N) shook her head, the muscle in his jaw clenched as his brows furrowed in worry. “Guess we should’ve left Brienne activated after all…”

“I sincerely doubt that any of Kingpin’s lackeys would be dumb enough to announce their presence by ringing the doorbell,” She reasoned, but her own logic didn’t stop her from bringing a hand up to her lips and whistling Indy’s command to guard; they exchanged a look before leaving the kitchen and heading down the hallway to their front door, and she spared a brief glance into the living room to see their senior German Shepard standing alert beside an unaware Carina as she continued to play. They passed by their entryway table – stopping for a moment to retrieve several stun discs they’d stashed away in its hidden compartment for emergencies – and Steve wrapped a protective arm around her waist as she unlocked the door and cautiously pulled it open.

Standing on their porch was a young woman, with long blonde hair intricately braided over her shoulder, numerous silver ear piercings decorating her ears and dressed in a stylish emerald-green winter coat. She looked to be in her mid-twenties and while her pale green eyes were outlined with dark blue liner, the makeup couldn’t mask the uncertainty and the hint of fear in her gaze; her lips were pursed and her hands were shoved into her coat’s pockets as she looked between them both, and after a tense moment she finally spoke. “I’m so sorry for imposing on your Christmas, but I was in the city on a work trip and I couldn’t leave without stopping by. My name is-”

“Yelena,” (Y/N) interjected, her eyes widening in surprise; Natasha’s description of her little sister was spot-on, but it wasn’t until she heard her thick Russian accent that she fully realized who she was.

Steve, who was doing a far better job of hiding his shock, opened the door wider and gave the young woman a tight-lipped smile. “Please, come in.” Yelena hesitated for a moment but stepped through the doorway, her eyes carefully scanning their festively-decorated entryway as she slipped off her coat and black leather gloves. She allowed Steve to hang her coat on their coat-rack and followed them into the living room, and (Y/N) caught the blink-and-you-miss-it smile that formed when she spotted Carina and Indy. “Would you like something to drink, Yelena? Water, hot coca, hot coca with a splash of whiskey…?”

“I won’t lie, the third option sounds very good right about now,” The former Black Widow replied with a wry smirk, although it was still easy to see the apprehension that she was trying so hard to hide. “Thank you.”

Steve’s azure eyes briefly met (Y/N)’s before he turned and headed into the kitchen, whistling the command for Indy to join him, and (Y/N) scooped Carina up before sitting on the opposite end of the couch from Yelena; the infant squirmed on her lap, seemingly displeased to have been taken away from her Mega Bloks, but she was quickly distracted by the stuffed Hulk – a Christmas gift from her Uncle Bruce – that (Y/N) wriggled in front of her. “If it wasn’t for this little gumball,” She patted the side of her baby bump with her free hand. “I’d have a spiked hot coca the same as you.”

Yelena smiled politely. “Congratulations. Do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“We actually just found out this morning; it’s a girl, and we’ve already decided on her name.” (Y/N) took a steadying breath before continuing. “Natalia Austen Rogers-(Y/L/N).” When they were initially brainstorming various baby names, she and Steve came to the agreement that they would find a way to name their little boy or girl after Natasha and Tony; Natalia, being the spy’s birth name, and Austen, being the long-lasting nickname that the billionaire bestowed upon her the very first time they met.

The younger woman’s green eyes misted over, but she was quick to duck her head to hide her emotional reaction. “That’s…um, that’s a wonderful name. Natasha would like that.” She anxiously began to twirl one of her many rings around her finger. “I’ve been working up the courage to speak with you for quite some time. I came close earlier this week, at the pizza parlor in Greenwich Village, but I…” Trailing off, Yelena’s eyes flicked up to meet (Y/N)’s, carefully reading her before continuing on. “Judging by the overwhelming tension that is emanating from you and your husband, it would be safe to assume that you’ve been in recent contact with Clint Barton.” When (Y/N) mutely nodded, Yelena sighed to herself and threaded her fingers together in her lap. “Firstly, I would like to assure you that you and your family are not in any danger. I was hired to remove an obstacle and while it was an assignment that I was admittedly eager to complete, I ultimately decided against completing it; Barton was not responsible for my sister’s death, and I couldn’t see that until it was almost too late.”

“But you did see it, and that’s what really matters,” (Y/N) reassured her as she gently smoothed out her daughter’s hair, smiling when the infant waved at the former Black Widow and babbled away in excitement when she waved back. “And if it makes you feel any better, Clint’s not really the type to hold a grudge…well, except for that one time when Nat bit him during a fight. He still likes to bring that up from time to time.”

The corner of Yelena’s lips briefly twitched upwards before she sobered. “Secondly, I would like to thank you for helping my parents arrange for Natasha’s memorial. Ohio was…it was the first place where she was truly happy, and I’m glad that there is something there to honor her memory and her sacrifice.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) adjusted her hold on Carina and cast her eyes downward. “It was the least I could do. Nat told me a little about her past after she went on the run and helped take down the Red Room, but she opened up more in the years after you Vanished.” She glanced up and met Yelena’s gaze with a sad smile. “She was so proud of you, Yelena, for traveling around the world and making it your mission to give all those Widows their freedom. Everything she did to help us reverse the Snap she did because she loved you, and she never once gave up trying to get you back.”

Yelena, overcome with emotion, nodded in thanks as she wiped a wayward tear from her cheek. A moment later, Steve walked back into the living room with a full mug of hot coca cradled in his hands and Natasha’s old knapsack slung over his shoulder; the former Black Widow murmured her thanks when she accepted the mug and while she took a cautious sip, Steve shrugged the knapsack off and leaned on the arm of the couch beside (Y/N). “I’m so sorry for your loss, Yelena. Your sister wasn’t just one of a kind, but she was a hero.” One of his hands moved to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder and she briefly brushed her lips against his knuckles in comfort as he continued. “As I’m sure your parents already told you, Nat left you a message before she died; we’ve kept it safe since then, along with a few of her things that survived the Battle of Earth.”

After another sip of hot coca, Yelena set her mug down onto the coffee table and gingerly accepted the knapsack, her expression unreadable as she examined the faded name patch sewn onto the sturdy canvas. “Can I…?” She cleared her throat and looked up at them, her green eyes tinged with red. “Would you mind if I listen to it now?”

“Of course not,” (Y/N) assured her with a tight smile, allowing her husband to help her stand and positioning Carina to sit against her hip. “We’ll, um…we’ll just be in the kitchen, if you need anything.”

Yelena nodded and while she tentatively reached into her sister’s knapsack, the (Y/L/N)-Rogers family made their way to the kitchen to give the younger woman some much-needed privacy to finally face her grief head-on.

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“So, what’s Yelena like?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into her satchel for another apple and offering it to the massive rhino behind the wooden fence; the Border Tribe had been gracious enough to allow both the visiting members of Wakanda’s new outreach program and the fugitive Avengers to visit their impressive herd of rhinoceros and since (Y/N) hadn’t seen the spy since she’d gone on the run after Siberia, she invited Nat to join her at the enclosures.

“She’s strong, much stronger than she realizes. She’s funny, smart as hell and although she can be a little bit of a pain in the ass, she’s the kind of person who’ll have your back no matter what.” Natasha’s sincere smile turned playful as she arched an appraising brow at her. “Come to think of it, she sort of reminds me of another person I know…”

(Y/N) sighed in exaggerated exasperation. “You better not let Sam hear you saying that, ‘cause his ego’s inflated enough as it is.”

Rolling her eyes, Natasha lightly shoved her shoulder as she burst into giggles. “You know damn well that I was talking about you, hot-shot, and I meant every word of it.” Both women shared a look of understanding and while her heart burst with affection for the spy, (Y/N) patted the rhino’s neck and fed her another apple. “She likes music almost as much as you do, you know, and lately, she’s turned into a bit of a fashionista. Hopefully, you’ll get a chance to meet her someday; you guys would totally get along.”

“I think so, too. We can talk about music, clothes and all the best ways to annoy the hell out of you,” (Y/N) chuckled as Natasha shook her head in disbelief, giving the rhino one last pat before looping her around hers and smiling brightly, “C’mon, we should head back to Bucky’s farm and make sure he hasn’t fed Birdbrain to his goats.”

(Y/N) smiled to herself as she recalled her conversation with Natasha so long ago and leaned down to kiss the top of Carina’s head. It had been nearly a quarter of an hour since they’d left Yelena alone in their living room with Natasha’s final message for her, and they were trying to distract themselves from the emotionally-fraught situation with their daughter and their dog; Steve was crouched on the kitchen floor and scratching a pleased Indy behind the ears while (Y/N) entertained Carina by singing various Christmas songs, beaming with pride as their daughter sat on the kitchen island in front of her and happily babbled along with her.

“At this rate, she’s gonna be singing her ABC’s before she even turns two,” Steve remarked with a proud grin, standing up and watching Indy stroll over to his water bowl for a moment before leaning against the kitchen island and jiggling her stuffed Hulk in front of her. “Aren’t you, angel? You’re so smart, just like Mama.”

“Mama smart!” Carina exclaimed and clapped her chubby hands together in glee.

“Yep, but so’s Dada! He’s very, very smart, lemon drop, just like you.” The infant giggled when (Y/N) gently booped her nose with her index finger, and she glanced over at her husband and smirked when she saw the bemused expression on his face. “Don’t sell yourself short, sweetheart; your intelligence is one of the many, many things that I love about you.”

Steve’s brow playfully arched and he hummed in interest as his arm not-so-subtly moved to wrap around her waist. “Is that so? Mind tellin’ me what the rest of ‘em are, or is that classified intel?”

“Not necessarily, but it is the sort of intel that comes with a hefty price-tag.”

“I’ve got a pint of A Hunka-Hulka Burning Fudge and two Three Musketeer bars stashed in the downstairs freezer-”

“Sold!”

Just as a chuckling Steve leaned in for a kiss, Yelena hesitantly entered the kitchen and cleared her throat, giving them an awkward sort of smile when they both looked over at her; her pale green eyes were puffy from crying, but (Y/N) could see that for the first time since entering their home, the younger woman’s features were free of any anxiety and trepidation. I hope that Nat’s final message helped her find some closure, she thought to herself as she watched Yelena gently place the empty mug onto the counter before finally speaking. “I want to thank you both, for the delicious hot coca and for inviting me into your home so that I could accept my sister’s personal items.” She hugged the knapsack close to her chest and gave them a tiny smile, and (Y/N) could’ve sworn she spotted a hint of longing in her steely gaze as she continued. “I’ve taken up enough of your time, so I should leave you to enjoy the rest of your holiday.”

Steve and (Y/N) exchanged a look as the former Black Widow turned to leave, an unspoken agreement passing between them before Steve spoke up. “Yelena?” She turned back around to face them and Steve gathered Carina up into his arms, his trademark smile of sincerity spreading across his face as they walked around the kitchen island to stand before her. “I know that you’ve only just met us and that there’s probably other ways you’d rather be spending your Christmas Day, but we’d be honored if you joined us for dinner.”

Yelena froze, seemingly unsure of how to respond to their invitation. “I…that’s very cool of you to ask, but I-I wouldn’t want to intrude…”

“You wouldn’t be intruding at all,” (Y/N) promised as a smile of her own began to form. “It’ll be great, so long as you don’t mind listening to a fifteen-month old incoherently sing along to Christmas songs and fending off an adorable German Shepard as he begs for some of your dinner.”

As she looked between them both, Yelena’s pale green eyes softened and a softer, more genuine smile slowly illuminated her features. “Well, I do like your American Christmas songs and adorable dogs…”

At the start of the holiday season, (Y/N) planned on spending her picture-perfect Christmas with her beloved Steve and Carina, and she assumed that the biggest surprise in store for them would be finally learning the sex of their new baby. But after over ten years of living the life of a superhero, it should’ve come to no surprise that even the best-laid plans could change in the blink of an eye; in a week where she’d watched a Broadway musical loosely and hilariously adapt her husband’s entire life, helped her favorite archer and his biggest fan take on one of New York City’s most notorious criminal organizations and finally met her deceased best friend’s mysterious little sister after she nearly killed their friend, it just made sense that they’d add another place setting to their dining room table and enjoy their Christmas Day dinner alongside a talkative and overall happy Yelena Belova.

Neither (Y/N) nor Steve dared ask Yelena about Natasha’s final message to her, both unwilling to dampen the younger woman’s cheerful mood, but if her sparkling eyes and joyful laughter was anything to go off of, then (Y/N) knew that the message succeeded in helping Yelena finally find some closure. Yelena, being the sort of person that was quick to open up once she felt at home, was a delightful guest; while they enjoyed their dinner, she regaled them with stories of hers and Natasha’s childhood in Ohio and her journey of self-discovery since being freed of the Red Room’s chemical subjugation and in turn, (Y/N) and Steve shared their happiest memories of Natasha with her. If this is any indication of what the future Rogers-(Y/L/N)’s Family Christmases will be like then I’m all in, (Y/N) thought to herself with a smile as Steve and Yelena laughed at her story and Carina nodded off in her highchair, stroking a hand over her growing bump and basking in the cozy holiday cheer that occupied their home.

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A/N: And there you have it, a little Christmas fluff for ya'll in April! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I’ve created a Spotify playlist inspired by this series, and I’ll be updating it every time I upload a new chapter. Enjoy!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ziGMhEsAw833GQ9eV44nR?si=6dfead09c76848d5

Stumblin’ In Book VII: “Superhero Snapshots” Masterlist

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