#pride and prejudice is my pride and joy

[critrolesideblog]

The frozen fields of Eiselcross stretched around Essek white as a sheet of fine paper waiting for something to be written upon it. Snow was falling lightly like feathers around him in large, puffy flakes that lent a hazy air to the morning that was dawning candy-pink to the east.

But Essek was not looking east.

In the west, a giant eagle in a familiar shade of orange was flying toward him, still far enough away to give the illusion of being small, but growing larger. It was at turns coasting, looping, diving, and soaring in a joyful dance, delighting in the fine weather. And perhaps -- Essek thought, hoped, dared to believe -- delighting in the thought of seeing him. His heart raced in time with the bird's dance.

Caleb landed at the edge of the icy plateau, transforming as he touched down and transitioning into a steady walk with an easy grace. The falling snow softened the edges of his form with their dreamy haze, allowing Essek first the bright copper of his hair and warm brown of his coat, then the striped, particolor pattern of his scarf, and at last his wide smile and blue eyes, like a star slowly sliding into focus in the lens of a telescope. He found he was smiling back.

And between one breath and the next it seemed, Caleb was there at last with his arms around him. Essek was stunned for an instant, as he often was by the Mighty Nein's ease with affection, but only for an instant. He wrapped his arms around Caleb in return, squeezing tightly to his chest the dream that was now a warm, solid reality in his arms. He basked in the warmth and the scent of him: woodsmoke, incense, leather, and parchment -- a scent he was pleasantly surprised to find familiar and comforting.

When Caleb finally released him, he did not go far. One of his hands came to rest on the side of Essek's neck, the other on his chest, and Essek mirrored him. Their cloudy breaths mingled in the few inches of space between them, and Essek found it an intimate thing, as if there was no space between them. There was Caleb. And there was Essek. And there was Caleb and Essek. He could feel the potential of it, electric and heavy in the air as dunamis.

"Shall we go on an adventure together?" Caleb asked, smiling, and Essek could feel the matrix of possibility shifting around them like snow in the breeze as he answered.

"Yes."

[its-tortle]

pride and prejudice (2005) the movie that you are

[fictionadventurer]

Potential September Reading

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien (ideally in audio)

An English Squire by Christabel R. Coleridge

A Sherlock Holmes story (and/or a screen adaptation)

C.S. Lewis nonfiction

A sensation or mystery novel

A piece of one of the Psmith stories

Some kind of nonfiction book

[catherinexmorland]

I find it amusing that Lady Catherine threatens Elizabeth with not being noticed by Mr Darcy’s friends and family if they were to marry… when his best friend is literally marrying her sister 🤣

[dosthoeyevsky]

its my 28th birthday tomorrow so i want to say while i still can

- i am 27 years old

- i have no money and no prospects

- i'm already a burden to my parents

- i am frightened

[honeysunchild]

Libraries are just about the punkest places in existence and ppl wanna be transphobic in them? Not on my watch fuck you very much

[shittywriterbrain]

i started watching pride and prejudice 1995 yesterday and i had so severe good omens flashbacks during mr darcy's confession it was NOT funny

[imlostontheinternet]

Have some background ladies! Introducing in order: Miss Fuku, her mother Lady Embers, and of the Clover family we have Charlotte, Bonbon, and Flopsy.

[thereadersmuse]

☣️ This is my petty muse hour showing, but reyl0 stans please leave the grayl-ora pairing on Will!w alone. They are not the same. Do not do this to me. ☣️

[malusokay]

5 Classics for girly girls 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Emily of New Moon

The bittersweet process of growing up and finding where you truly belong... The perfect read for the start of a new school year. After her father’s death, Emily Starr is sent to live with her snobbish relatives at New Moon farm. Thrust into an unfamiliar and often cold environment, Emily faces numerous challenges. However, as time passes, she begins to adapt and discovers the beauty in her surroundings. With the support of her new friends—Teddy, Perry, and Ilse—Emily not only finds solace but also discovers her own creative talents, helping her carve out a place for herself in this new chapter of her life.

“If it's IN you to climb you must -- there are those who MUST lift their eyes to the hills -- they can't breathe properly in the valleys.”

Jane Eyre

A true classic for all my fellow gothic-lit enthusiasts, Jane Eyre, reminds us that everyone deserves a love that consumes, challenges, and transforms the very core of your being, offering both profound joy and deep heartache (we love a good situationsship). Following Jane Eyre, an orphaned and mistreated girl who endures a harsh upbringing but grows into a strong, independent woman. As she takes a position as a governess at Thornfield Hall, she encounters the enigmatic Mr. Rochester, sparking a profound and tumultuous romance. Their intense connection is marred by secrets and personal demons, revealing the complexities of their relationship.

“Jane, be still; don't struggle so like a wild, frantic bird, that is rending its own plumage in its desperation." "I am no bird, and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being, with an independent will; which I now exert to leave you.”

The Secret Garden

Mary Lennox, a spoiled and neglected girl, is sent to live with her uncle after the death of her parents. Initially ill-tempered and withdrawn, Mary’s curiosity is sparked by rumours of a hidden, abandoned garden on the estate. As she explores and begins to restore this secret garden, she experiences a beautiful shift (glow-up era). The once gloomy and sickly Mary starts to bloom alongside the garden, rediscovering happiness, vibrancy, and a sense of belonging, making the story a heartwarming tale of growth and recovery.

“At first, people refuse to believe that a strange new thing can be done, then they begin to hope it can be done, then they see it can be done--then it is done, and all the world wonders why it was not done centuries ago.”

Pride and Prejudice

Truly a classic that has shaped my romantic expectations hahah... Elizabeth Bennet battles societal expectations and her own misjudgments in 19th-century England. When the aloof Mr Darcy (he'd totally be a ghoster in the 21st century just saying...) first crosses her path, their initial encounters are fraught with tension and misunderstanding. However, as Elizabeth delves deeper, she uncovers the complexities of Darcy’s character and her own heart.

“I could no longer help saying that I loved him. I loved him not only for his sake but for his own sake. I loved him because he was the only person who had ever really loved me for myself. I loved him because he had made me feel that I was worthy of being loved.”

The Little Prince

A young, otherworldly prince from a tiny planet travels across the universe, meeting various inhabitants and learning profound life lessons. His journey brings him to Earth, where he encounters a stranded pilot and shares his reflections on love, loss, and the essence of human connections. Through whimsical adventures and encounters, The Little Prince explores the importance of seeing with the heart rather than the eyes and reminds us of the value of friendship and innocence.

“It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye. The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched; they are felt with the heart.”

you guys asked for more academia/book stuff so I thought this might be a nice start, especially since I know that many of you are just getting into classics; these are all very much suitable for beginners!! <3

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[brandyschillace]

The Forgotten History of the World’s First Transgender Clinic

I finished the first round of edits on my nonfiction history of trans rights today. It will publish with Norton in 2025, but I decided, because I feel so much of my community is here, to provide a bit of the introduction.

[begin sample]

The Institute for Sexual Sciences had offered safe haven to homosexuals and those we today consider transgender for nearly two decades. It had been built on scientific and humanitarian principles established at the end of the 19th century and which blossomed into the sexology of the early 20th. Founded by Magnus Hirschfeld, a Jewish homosexual, the Institute supported tolerance, feminism, diversity, and science. As a result, it became a chief target for Nazi destruction: “It is our pride,” they declared, to strike a blow against the Institute. As for Magnus Hirschfeld, Hitler would label him the “most dangerous Jew in Germany.”6 It was his face Hitler put on his antisemitic propaganda; his likeness that became a target; his bust committed to the flames on the Opernplatz. You have seen the images. You have watched the towering inferno that roared into the night. The burning of Hirschfeld’s library has been immortalized on film reels and in photographs, representative of the Nazi imperative, symbolic of all they would destroy. Yet few remember what they were burning—or why.

Magnus Hirschfeld had built his Institute on powerful ideas, yet in their infancy: that sex and gender characteristics existed upon a vast spectrum, that people could be born this way, and that, as with any other diversity of nature, these identities should be accepted. He would call them Intermediaries.

Intermediaries carried no stigma and no shame; these sexual and Gender nonconformists had a right to live, a right to thrive. They also had a right to joy. Science would lead the way, but this history unfolds as an interwar thriller—patients and physicians risking their lives to be seen and heard even as Hitler began his rise to power. Many weren’t famous; their lives haven’t been celebrated in fiction or film. Born into a late-nineteenth-century world steeped in the “deep anxieties of men about the shifting work, social roles, and power of men over women,” they came into her own just as sexual science entered the crosshairs of prejudice and hate. The Institute’s own community faced abuse, blackmail, and political machinations; they responded with secret publishing campaigns, leaflet drops, pro-homosexual propaganda, and alignments with rebel factions of Berlin’s literati. They also developed groundbreaking gender affirmation surgeries and the first hormone cocktail for supportive gender therapy.

Nothing like the Institute for Sexual Sciences had ever existed before it opened its doors—and despite a hundred years of progress, there has been nothing like it since. Retrieving this tale has been an exercise in pursuing history at its edges and fringes, in ephemera and letters, in medal texts, in translations. Understanding why it became such a target for hatred tells us everything about our present moment, about a world that has not made peace with difference, that still refuses the light of scientific evidence most especially as it concerns sexual and reproductive rights.

[end sample]

I wanted to add a note here: so many people have come together to make this possible. Like Ralf Dose of the Magnus-Hirschfeld-Gesellschaft (Magnus Hirschfeld Archive), Berlin, and Erin Reed, American journalist and transgender rights activist—Katie Sutton, Heike Bauer. I am also deeply indebted to historian, filmmaker and formative theorist Susan Stryker for her feedback, scholarship, and encouragement all along the way. And Laura Helmuth, editor of Scientific American, whose enthusiasm for a short article helped bring the book into being. So many LGBTQ+ historians, archivists, librarians, and activists made the work possible, that its publication testifies to the power of the queer community and its dedication to preserving and celebrating history. But I ALSO want to mention you, folks here on tumblr who have watched and encouraged and supported over the 18 months it took to write it (among other books and projects). @neil-gaiman has been especially wonderful, and @always-coffee too: thank you.

The support of this community has been important as I’ve faced backlash in other quarters. Thank you, all.

NOTE: they are attempting to rebuild the lost library, and you can help: https://magnus-hirschfeld.de/archivzentrum/archive-center/

[sanguineterrain]

Sanne can we get a part 2 for reporter!reader?? Picking up where it first left off their first night in the same home - and there's only 1 bed! - and reader shares the bed with him with the promise of not looking at his unmasked face in the middle of the night? And like them realizing over the next few days that they have very similar habits like tendencies to work throughout the night once they've got a lead and not having a set sleep schedule/unconventional sleeping hours.

OKAY HERE WE GO! be fed my lovelies <3 didn't exactly do one bed but hopefully you like it anyway ;) pt 2 of this

jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. nightmares, hurt/comfort, jason sexy mf todd being a domestic dreamboat. 2.4k. pls enjoy

****

The Red Hood's apartment is... not at all what you expected.

It looks lived in. It, as awful a thought as it is, looks like an actual person lives here.

And it's not that you didn't know that Hood has a life outside of shooting and scaring, but the giant ficus and the overstuffed bookshelf seem paradoxical to everything you know about Hood.

You're realizing that you don't know him at all.

"So, uh." Hood awkwardly gestures to the apartment. "This is it. Welcome."

"It's nice," you say, stepping over the threshold. "Really nice. I'm a little jealous, Red."

"What can I say? Being public enemy number one is surprisingly lucrative."

You wander to the kitchen. There's a picture of him and a red-headed masked man who looks vaguely familiar. The man is smiling, his arm around Hood. There's a city skyline behind them you don't recognize.

"Where's that?" you ask. You don't expect him to answer.

"Morocco."

"I didn't know you had friends," you say, studying the Welcome to Vegas! magnet that's holding up the picture.

"Ouch."

"No, I—" You turn, shaking your head. "Sorry, no. I meant, like, people you do fun things with."

"Mm, yeah, I know what a friend is."

"Red, you know what I mean. I didn't know you took selfies and kept plants and read."

"Thought I was friendless and illiterate, huh?" He leans against the kitchen table, fist tucked under his helmet. "Y'wouldn't be the first."

"Hood—"

He snorts, shoulders shaking. You stop.

"That's not funny," you say, rolling your eyes. "Jerk."

"It's a little funny. You're always so sharp with your words, smartypants. No, while I'm very literate, friends are admittedly far and few. Arsenal's my closest friend."

"Is he also a crime lord?"

"Nah. Way better guy than me."

You look back at the picture and wonder how often Hood gets to experience joy. And when was the last time he had a vacation?

You feel a gentle tug at the back of your jacket.

"C'mon. You can snoop more later, promise. Lemme show you your room."

Hood takes your suitcase before you can protest. You follow him down the hall. There's one door to the bathroom—the other is to a single bedroom.

The bedroom is nice, bigger than yours at home. It's sort of what you expected (i.e., the mounted katanas on the wall) but also not (a giant framed poster of the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film).

Holy hell. You're in the Red Hood's bedroom.

"Hood, I can't sleep here," you say, watching as he puts your suitcase in the corner.

The bed has been made, sheets tucked in without a single wrinkle. They're in various shades of red. You're sure Hood thinks he's hilarious.

"Why? If the swords are putting you off, I can move 'em."

"No, it's—I can't take your room, Hood. There's no way I'm doing that."

He shakes his head. "No, trust me, it's for the best. That couch is only comfortable to sleep on after a dose of painkillers."

"Dude, I am not making you sleep on the couch in your own house."

"Well, dude, I'm the host, and I'm the big and scary Red Hood, so what I say goes."

"Like either one of us actually believes that," you say, brushing past him to grab your suitcase. "I'm not kicking you out of your bed. It's–it's very sweet of you to offer. But you physically exert yourself every day. You need a comfortable bed more than I do. Besides, it's not like I'll be here for long."

Hood steps in front of you, casually blocking your exit.

"Well, try this on for size: my room is more secure than my living room," he says. "If someone were to break in, they'd have to get through me out there first."

That... is, unfortunately, a good point. You're still extremely paranoid after the assassination attempt two nights ago.

"You're so manipulative, y'know that?" you grumble, leaving your suitcase where it is.

"I know. I come from a real fucked up family." He doesn't sound too put out by it.

"But if you get injured on patrol, I'm sleeping on the couch."

He pats your shoulder. "'S cute you think you can bargain in my house, smarty."

****

Dinner goes well. Hood makes beef bolognese and it's delicious. You take an extra long time in the bathroom before bed so Hood has enough time to eat, considering his refusal to remove his helmet. You'd offered to blindfold yourself—he'd just laughed.

"Sure you don't want your room? It is, after all, yours," you say when you come out, fresh from your shower.

Hood glances at you briefly from where he's washing dishes. He's out of his jacket and suit, now only in jeans and a white t-shirt. Your face feels hot for some reason.

"I'm sure. Cute robe."

"Oh." You look down at the Wonder Woman robe your friend gave you. "Thanks. Got it for my birthday."

"I'll have to get myself one too," Hood says, drying a glass with a polka dot tea towel. "Big Wonder Woman fan."

"Yeah? We solve this case, and I'll get you all the robes you want, Red."

"Tempting."

You chew your lip as you watch him clean up. "Want any help?"

"Go to sleep, star reporter." He sounds amused.

"You try to be a polite guest only to get shot down..." you mumble.

On your way to Hood's room, you get distracted by a pile of documents on the coffee table. You stop, picking up the corner to read one. They're about the case, about all the labs that might be involved in the experiments.

Well... you can read just one. It seems like Hood's compiled a lot of information on his own.

You stand for a bit until your legs grow tired. Then you sit on the couch, making notes of what you do and don't know on a nearby writing pad.

"Did you get lost?"

Hood's watching you, leaning against the wall. It's weird to see his bare arms. His very sculpted, muscled arms. You think you peek a tattoo on his bicep.

"My attention was caught," you say, unrepentant. "Anyway, there's a lot of stuff I haven't seen. You've been holding out on me, Red."

"'S just theories, mostly. Didn't feel it was relevant to mention without hard proof."

"Ever hear of a work-life balance?" you ask.

Hood walks over and joins you on the couch, making the cushion dip. You bump shoulders briefly, before you move.

"Look who's talking, Pulitzer prize," he says.

"That's a very reasonable goal, and I'm not obsessed with it. You're just a workaholic. I have activities outside of wo—oh my God, work!"

You shoot up from the couch, panicked. "Fuck. Fuck! I haven't shown up in two days! I'm—"

"Hey, easy," Hood says, propping his socked feet up on the coffee table. "I called you out. Said you had the flu. No biggie."

"How did you call me out?"

He shrugs. "Pretended to be your boyfriend. Girl on the line was kinda rude about it. Didn't believe me at first."

"Red, I believe we've talked about these invasions of privacy."

"I'm just fulfilling my host duties. Is it true you haven't taken a day off in two years?"

You sigh. "Yes, okay? Fine. I'm a workaholic, too. That's why Jane, the secretary you spoke to, was so sassy about my having a boyfriend. It's pretty unbelievable."

"That's ridiculous. You could totally get a boyfriend. Some guys don't mind that."

"Like you?"

Hood tilts his head in acknowledgment. "Sure. Like me."

"Yeah, well, you're not exactly most men."

"And thank God for that."

You look at each other for another moment. Hood's tattoo is in clear view now: it's a bird surrounded by flowers. You can't tell the species of either one.

"Cool tattoo," you say, your tongue feeling too big for your mouth.

Hood turns his arm so the ink is hidden. "Thanks."

"Right." You start to walk backwards. "I think... I'm gonna go to bed."

"Sure," he says. "If y'need anything, holler."

"'Kay. Thank you for dinner. You're a great cook."

"You flatterer."

You smile. "Gotta stay in the Red Hood's good graces."

You start to walk away.

"Do you—waffles?"

You stop and turn. "Sorry?"

"I, uh... do you like waffles? For breakfast," he says. He rubs his thumb and forefinger together. Nervous habit.

"I love waffles for breakfast."

Hood nods. "Great. Good. Then I'll... we'll have those."

"Please don't wake up early just to make breakfast, Red."

"You're my guest. I'll do whatever I want."

You don't recall the prospect of waffles ever making your heart hammer in your chest. Weird.

"Right. Well, goodnight," you say.

"G'night, smarty."

****

You turn the case details in your mind over and over. It's better than thinking about beef bolognese and peeks of skin you shouldn't see and how Hood's sheets smell like lavender.

But you fall asleep thinking about robins. You don't know why. You can't recall ever seeing a robin in Gotham.

You're on a rooftop. It's the roof you met Hood on, all those months ago. There's a robin nesting with its babies on the crumbling bricks.

The sky is a sick shade of green. You see horrible faces in the shadows on the roof.

That face from the night of the attack returns. He's hideous. You remember the stench of his breath, the way his eyes bulged. He grins at you across the roof.

"He should've killed me when he had the chance," he says, voice distorted.

You look around. The robin is gone. Blood drips from your stomach.

You turn and your attacker is there, inches away. He plunges the knife into you again and again. You can't move. This is it. You will die.

You wake up to wet cheeks. You're hot, and you're screaming. You've died.

A cool, rough hand grabs your arm and you fight because you can't die, you won't die. Not today.

"Hey. Hey, hey! It's me, 's J—Hood. It's Hood."

The room is almost entirely dark, save for a sliver of light from the cracked curtains. You can't make out his face. His voice is different. Clearer. He's without his helmet.

You reach out and feel soft hair. The curve of a neck. A bicep. A warm, bare chest.

"Sure, honey. Cop a feel if that makes you feel better," he murmurs.

Your face screws up and you start to cry.

"Shit," Hood whispers. "Shit, shit. Can't get the comforting thing right, can I?"

The bed dips with his weight. Arms wrap around you. You launch yourself into those arms, that solid chest.

"He g-got me in the dream," you choke out. "He killed us, Red. I'm so scared."

"Nobody's getting me or you. I promise."

Hood's jaw is smooth. His hands are big on your back, rubbing circles. His bare knee bumps yours.

You clutch him tighter. He hums.

"'S okay," he says. "It's alright. I got ya. He can't hurt you. I'd tear apart anyone who tries."

He lets you cry for several minutes, petting you all the while. Hood's body is warm, almost unnaturally so, but his hands are cool. He engulfs you completely.

You wonder what color his hair is. His eyes. What shape his nose is. His... lips.

"God, I'm a terrible guest," you mumble after you've caught your breath. "Fuck. I'm so sorry to wake you."

He hums, the sound going through your chest. "Don't worry. I don't sleep much. And you're not the worst guest I've had. My brother stayed with me for a few days last month. That was hell."

"You have a brother?"

"Four, actually. And a sister."

"Wow. Do they know you're...?"

"Yeah. It was a whole thing. They're over it now."

"Cool family."

Hood grunts. "They're... something."

You smile and close your eyes. "You're not who I thought you were, Red."

"Yes, I know. Friendless and illiterate."

You pinch his side. He clucks his tongue in response.

"Cheeky," he says, the gravel in his voice shooting down your spine like lightning.

You pull back, suddenly aware of how long you've been touching him. Hood lets you have your space, scooting to the edge of the bed.

"You know what I mean," you say, glad it's dark and Hood can't see your wide eyes. "Not like that."

"I know. You thought I was a monster, ugly and alone, sleeping in a cave."

Blindly, you reach for his face, feel the shape of his jaw, his chin.

"Doesn't feel like an ugly face to me," you say quietly.

He exhales like you punched the air out of him.

"Trust me," he says. "The dark hides a lot."

You frown and pull away. "I didn't think any of those things, Red. I thought... I thought you were one-track minded. Now I realize that you're probably better adjusted than I am."

"Oh no, I got issues. Believe me. Definitely more than you. Not that it's a competition. 'Cept if it was, I'd win."

You smile. "Title is all yours, big guy. Gotta be a little crazy to do what we do."

"Sure. But you're the bravest soul I know. 'Cause you weren't forced into this. You hunted down the story yourself."

"Brave or stupid?" you ask.

"Brave. But it's a fine line."

Nope. It's definitely more stupid than not, clinging to the Red Hood in his own bed in the name of a case.

What are you doing?

"Ah, anyway." The bed shifts as Hood stands. You can just barely make out the shape of him. "You probably won't be going back to sleep any time soon, huh?"

You sigh. "No, probably not. Please feel free to take back your bed."

"Nice try. You, uh... like hot chocolate?"

"Oh. Yes, I do. But you don't have to do that."

"I've been awake," he says. "No trouble. C'mon."

Hood walks to the door and opens it. Light spills out and for a moment, you have a clear view of his back.

His hair is dark and wavy. His back is covered in silver scars and fresh bruises, broad and muscled. You can see the tendons shift as he walks out.

The Red Hood is a man. Made of flesh and blood. Carved, more like.

Your belly flutters. Fuck.

This is no longer just you working a case. And you're about as far from an informant as anyone can be.

[satangcrush]

an ode to nicknames pt.2 <3

✦ CAST: satan, asmo (tw: suggestive), beel, belphie ✦ SUMMARY: f! reader, what nicknames (or lack of) will the cast use for you! ✦ WC: 2.4k

[PART 1] | [PART 2] | [PART 3] | MASTERLIST

══════════════════

As one of the most well-read brothers, Satan revels in being an old-fashioned lover and a gentleman to win your heart. This means he’s pulling out all the pitstops of nicknames for you. One day, he will address you as his lady, apple of his eye, his beloved, sweetheart. Trust me, he loves coming up with new nicknames for you. He enjoys seeing your reaction to them, and everytime he wants to get under your skin, he uses the Longest Nicknames he can think of. His tongue is honeyed in affection everytime he calls out to you. (“Oh no, the joy of my entire life and the only shooting star in the galaxy is refusing to talk to me, what shall I ever do to atone for my sins?”)

══════════════════

“Lovebug.”

You snorted at him, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. Now you were somewhat used to him suddenly throwing out random terms of endearment.

“Which novel did you get that from this time?” 

“Pride and Prejudice.” He said, sounding bemused. You stifled a laugh behind your hand. You have never read the novel before but you were fairly sure that the term had never appeared in it before. And… you could also see the cover of the book which was right in front of your eyes from your position on Satan’s lap.

“Do you like it?”

“I like anything that comes out from your mouth~”

He had opened his mouth to respond but instead lowered his book to give you a look somewhere between ‘what-the-HELL-is-wrong-with-you?’ and ‘I-really-want-to-laugh-right-now’.

“You just sounded like Asmo, you know.” Satan looked genuinely exasperated, huffing out a laugh in response.

“Well, that was just who I was trying to emulate. Why? Don’t like it?” You toss a sideway glance at Satan, before going back to what you were doing previously - which is to stare off blankly into the air as you encroach on Satan’s personal space.

A growly laughter came from above you and you blinked in confusion, lips quirking downwards.

“Why are you laughing? I thought I did a pretty good impression.” You said petulantly, making a move to sit up from your current arrangement. Satan just looks at you shift, an amused smile painted on his pretty face.

“Mm. Nothing. Just looking at the light of my life.”

“Shut up.” You sniff with a haughty look before continuing, “How did I end up with such a cheesy man anyways?” You brought your knuckle up and knocked gently on his chest, ignoring his affronted gasp as he let go of his book in favour of wrapping his arms around you.

Satan’s right hand rises up to graze your face, the other hand landing on the dip of your waist. Suddenly, your thoughts stutter and slow to a stop, because Satan’s very bright green eyes are now looking at you and his gorgeous face is now centimetres from your own. The scent of his perfume fills the air you breathe in. You glance down at his lips for a short second, and then back up to meet his eyes.

His eyes curved as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, intentionally ignoring your unspoken pleas.

“Tease…” 

You murmured with a smile, before leaning in to finally kiss him on the lips.

══════════════════

Asmodeus is much much more forthcoming with his affections than any of the brothers. He uses babe/baby, honey, dove, darling, sweetie, but you should know that anything goes with this man. He probably refers to you more by terms of endearment thus every time he uses your full name, you stiffen in panic, wondering if you did anything wrong.

.

“Babe! You won’t believe this.” Asmo chatters excitedly as he walks along you, pressed into your side.

“Ooo, what is it?” You matched his enthusiasm, swinging your interlocked arms together, your matching nails catching in the light. You let your eyes wander down to your intertwined hands, admiring the cute nail art that Asmo had beseeched you into. 

And it somehow looks so much prettier today, you mused fondly. Maybe because it was wrapped around Asmo's fingers? The matching print on both of your nails does make for a pretty sight.

“Remember that witch in our fourth period? A little birdie told me that she’s been messing with that guy from our potions class! And guess what, the guy’s attached! And he’s been attached for the past 500 years too! And it gets worse, he’s dating her sister. Her sister! And apparently, both of them may actually even be pregnant too.” You listened with bated interest as his face breaks out into a coquettish grin, eyes twinkling with glee as he spoke in a hushed tone.

“Oh my, wait. I think I found out about it last week. I overheard her arguing with her sister when I was in the toilet.” Your eyes darted around looking for any signs of the aforementioned culprits before you leaned in to whisper into his ear.

“Wait, waaaaait! You’re only telling me this now? How could you, hun? I thought we were joined at the hips! Why didn’t you tell me this earlier, sweetie?” Asmo pouted, a petulant look on his face. He grabbed your other hand to place it on his face, forcing you to stare at his face.

“I’m sorry baby, it completely slipped my mind.” You were also pouting now while pinching his cheeks, brain quickly racking for an appropriate course of apology.

“You need to make it up to me, dove.” Asmo purrs, a coy smile on his face, as he lets go of your clasped hands. You could feel his free hand trailing slowly up your hip, of course, taking advantage of this situation.

You chuckled slightly, straightening out his hand on your hips. “Not here, Asmo. We’re in public. Remember what we had agreed on before?” Asmo let out a whine at his failed seduction, taking a step backward, but not before giving you a playful tap on your behind.

“Fineee. Let’s hurry and go home then. I want to kiss you. You look so cute today, honey. You’re all decked out in my clothes, it makes me kind of want to eat you up.”

His expression had darkened and with a tilt of his head, he gave you a smile dripping in honey and full of promise.

For a moment, you hesitate - wondering if you should just throw all public decency out of the window and make out with Asmo right here and then. But then, you glanced at his glossy lips and thought better of it. You just know from experience that the gloss would make a mess if you commence a makeout session now and Asmo would complain about it later. Though, it was really hard ignoring that challenging and inviting look that Asmo was currently sending your way…

Screw it, you have to go now.

You quickly grabbed Asmo’s hand, leading the way to the House of Lamentation, hearing his tinkling laughter behind you. Though, you may or may not have made a couple of pit stops along the way.

══════════════════

Beelzebub would be the one who wanted to give you a cute nickname. He felt bad when he realised that you had always addressed him with an endearing term. Thus, he made it his mission to come up with a nickname for you. He had to avoid all food-related nicknames because everytime he thought about food, his stomach started growling instead. (This man ends up accidentally conditioning himself to get food whenever he meets/calls you.)

After multiple trials and errors, he sticks with ‘sunshine’, mainly because your smile reminds him of the sun in the Celestial Realm, that he never got to see in the Devildom.

.

Top 10 Endearment Terms used by Humans (100% Success Rate! Proven by Scientists!)

Honey

Buttercup

Pumpkin

Honeybun

Cupcake

Muffin

Angel

Sweet Pea

Honeybun

Sunshine

Use any of these names and you are guaranteed to make the human fall in love with you! Below, we will detail the various types of ways one can use these nicknames to seduce a human. Read more…

Beel promptly closes the article he was reading.

“I’m hungry.” He said to no one in particular, staring at the ceiling.

His stomach resounded with a terrifying growl. He didn’t understand why humans seem to like food-related nicknames so much. All he wanted to do was eat now, but he only had just eaten and right before this, he had already made an internal promise to find a good nickname before he could leave the room again.

But… his stomach was growling again. He briefly debated going to get a snack before resolutely ignoring his hunger (for now) because he just knew he would be distracted and Beel is determined to find the cutest nickname fitting for you. However, he still sends a longing glance in the direction of the kitchen before he continues surfing on the web.

“Beel?” You poked your head around the corner of the door, eyes searching for his figure. A smile lit up your face when you noticed him and it was so devastatingly cute that Beel forgot his hunger only for a second as the rest of you came into view.

Decidedly, he thought it would be a good time to test out the different nicknames he saw in the article.

“Hone…” The first syllabus of the nickname died on his tongue as his stomach gave out another tremendous roar at the thought of food. So much for trying it out, he thought bitterly, as his mind filled with scandalous ideas of your veins filled with honey.

That’s it. He couldn’t stand it anymore. 

He instantly stood up and bypassed you in his route, muttering a soft apology to you. Instinctively, he grabs onto your hand to pull you along to the kitchen, feeling his heart warm with the curl of your smaller hands in his, and the sensation carries his feet to the kitchen.

Suddenly, his hunger didn’t seem so prominent anymore with you around.

(Every time he wanted to call you by a food-related nickname, his stomach growled before he could even utter anything so he always ended up promptly leaving the room to get food, leaving you and his brothers confused. This caused you to wonder if you had done anything wrong to him for a short while.)

══════════════════

Belphie expresses his love by calling you a dummy ¾ of the time. The last quarter is him using the most endearing terms he can possibly think of, to either fluster you or when he gets jealous and he wants to make a statement. 

.

There was a demon who was getting too close to you. 

The irritation boils below his skin and the tendrils of annoyance wrap around his neck like a vice. Vaguely, he could feel his face contorting itself into a deep scowl as he clenched his fist. He knows that if you had seen him like this, you would have nagged at him to at least put on a smile, to show respect for Lord Diavolo’s ball. Yet, he could not find it in himself to be bothered by the imaginary you, when the real you was currently laughing with another demon. His eyes stalk the way the demon purposely steps closer to you to whisper in your ears, as you let out a soft giggle to whatever that demon had said.

...He bet it wasn't even funny.

He’s almost absolutely sure that you were just laughing out of pleasantries but the eyesore of a demon was still there and he feels vexed, with the way you had to crane your neck up to make eye contact and the way you hid your laughter behind your palm. Yet, his breath still catches in his lungs as he stares unabashedly at the way your eyes twinkle in the flickering candlelight, and how he just wanted to pepper the edge of your lips with kisses.

Belphegor wants to pry open your skin to jump inside the warmth of your body and bury himself in it to get rid of this itching feeling. His brain knew the answer to this feeling, but it would take more time for him to acknowledge the conclusion.

“Damnit. Stupid human.” He couldn’t help the incredulity in his voice as he noticed that you were still engrossed in the conversation. Surely, it couldn't have been that interesting right? His lips pursed unhappily as he debated his next course of action.

He sniffs as he makes his way over to you, deliberately and woefully calling you by name. When you failed to register his call, he felt a flicker of anger jump up in him. And when he opens his mouth to repeat your name again, he swears he could have tasted the fury in the parting of his lips in the air.

 “Baby, I’m tired.”

For a second, you paused in your conversation, turning to fix Belphegor with a questioning look. He could see the syllabus of the nickname forming in your mouth and he quickly draped himself all over you. You let out a yelp, immediately turning to catch him, knees buckling under the weight of him.

“Belphie!” You scolded admonishingly, delicate fingers lifting up his bangs to touch his forehead and peer confusedly at his expression, one that he had schooled into a doleful look. You tried to throw him off, but he was adamant about letting himself sprawl all over you. After all, when he was the youngest of seven brothers, he had learned his way around getting what he wanted.

With a sigh, you threw a polite smile to the demon you were talking with and swiftly excused yourself, half-dragging him through the floor. As you walked a comfortable distance away, your gaze immediately snapped to look at him with displeasure that Belphegor almost balked at the entirety of it.

“Would you like to tell me what that was all about?” You asked scathingly, eyebrow arched. You pinned him with a glare as you awaited his response.

Belphegor promptly hugged you from the back and closed his eyes, fully intending to nap. Whatever, now that he had gotten you away from the demon, he could sleep in peace and deal with the aftermath later.

You knew that there was no winning with Belphie when he gets in the mood to nap so you just sighed and resigned yourself to your fate.

"Baby, huh?" You mused thoughtfully. You would make sure to question him more about the new term later.

══════════════════.

a/n ▸ belphie: idiot (endearingly) ▸ imo, i cant see satan using kitten as a nickname tbh. maybe thats just me bc i wld laugh if someone called me kitten. also, i like to think that satan takes down notes (whether mental or physical), everytime yall watches a romance movie tgt. watch me crash and burn in the following weeks, i hv never written this much in such a short span of time LOL

[ladybirdswritings]

Pride & Prejudice - Coriolanus {Young} Snow x Reader

Summary: You’re birthed into a lively family in dire need of financial stability. As the eldest, you’re paraded around to be married and much to the dismay of your mother, you deny every hand offered. Yet unbeknownst to you, a man of great power and influence, Mr. Snow, is lurking in the shadows, waiting for his chance to have you. Steamy Pride & Prejudice retelling with young snow and you! Alternate universe, au!snow <3

Notes: I hope u girlies eat this up, getting scrapped otherwise </3 — as always, thank u for leaving comments and loves as it keeps me motivated!

next chapter

one

You’d much rather be at any other breathing, standing tower of gold trimmings and cracked pillars in existence.

At any building filled to the brim, simply overflowing with tiered skirts and lively grins… offered hands and gentlemen donned in fine suits, pockets suffocated by their own riches.

Yet you cannot be; for mama has ordered your presence to be most dire and mandatory. Although you did consider fleeing for the highest hilltop or feigning ill, you knew well that mama would find you or see straight through your falsehoods.

“My my, you look as though you’ve got something unsweet taped to your vicious tongue.”

You scowl at the blonde goddess most confusingly known to be your sister, and she only flips a ringlet of gold behind her poised shoulder.

“I think it to be quite clear how dreadful I find this. No need to observe aloud, sister.”

Her mischievous sapphire orbs glow with enjoyment, face pink and flushed — skin glistening under the gold lanterns flickering above.

You’ve watched happily from your seat, she’s sure to have danced with at least twenty men now.

No wonder mama has no fears or worries about Jane. She is just guaranteed to run off and be married within the upcoming season, it only makes for less of a distraction for mama— she’ll be glued to you like quill to paper.

It is not as though men do not want you. Oh, they do. Most ardently.

The trouble is only that you do not want them.

How horrible it is to be confined to four lonesome, frayed walls with nothing more than your books and your wit to keep you company. Married to a man who will most certainly be your senior, who busies himself with trivial matters and leaves you to be cold at home.

You would much rather drown yourself in the river stix than face a fate so melancholic.

You wish to be an odd thing, to run away into a cottage and spend your days parted from the people who surround you. You will read books of men made from dreams and you will find comfort in knowing that you will not be wed to a man who will only discontent you.

Of course, that would bring great shame upon your family, ruin them. So it seems you will end up a spinster or a governess. Both fates, although not as you may hope in your dreams, still offer more joy.

“Forgive me for having fun. It is not why I displease you however, perhaps if you picked your pretty head up from that book and stopped waving the hands that greet you away— you would know this. Mama has sent me. The duke, his sister and a dear friend of his have arrived here. Here! At our party, can you believe it?”

You huff out a sigh laced with annoyance, flipping to the next chapter of the dilapidated thing in your hands.

“No, I truly cannot.” You mutter, yet you cannot spare the fresh page even a glance before it is snatched from your clutched fingers.

A first edition, it shreds from its spine and erupts a gasp from both you and Jane. Mama’s cyan gaze is cold and anxious, feigning a tight smile.

That one was your favorite.

You do not lift your head, you do not notice the three towering men who look down upon your reserved oak wood bench in interest. Mama clutches the duke’s palm in an embrace of suffocation, yet you do not pay it even a little mind as you drop to your knees in your pretty dress to find the strayed page.

“My god, where are your manners — girl! Please do not pay her rudeness any attention, she gets sickly over these things. Sweetheart, up now— we can buy you another.”

Her voice is cold, devoid of any admiration. It is a lie, too. Your family cannot afford even a singular chapter of a new novel, let alone a first edition. You should be the one plagued by frustration, yet you feel as though it is you who is doing something wrong.

Even so, your eyes search the floor with great fervor, landing on a polished leather shoe which suffocates chapter twelve.

You wince, preparing all the words you can to kindly request the stranger lifts his big foot off of your paper. Yet they dissipate in the back of your throat.

The man, he bends at his knee as he frees the old thing from his sole. Your eyes lift to greet him, then.

He is a mess of blonde locks, unruly compared to that of the others with hair long enough. Theirs are tamed with ribbons, his only sits atop his head. His eyes are a cold color, one you cannot explain. They are commanding, fueled with great intensity.

Beyond all of this?

He looks most certainly miserable.

He does not wish to attend tonight, one glance proves this.

He spares you no words as he passes you the paper, eyes locked upon the contents of it. He offers you a hand of assistance, too.

You ignore it, wincing at the disgust your mother expresses.

You need no aid as you lift to your feet and dust the old thing off, he follows you — becoming a tower taller once he stands.

Jane, you are grateful now that she is still here. She laughs most uncomfortably, placing a polite hand upon your shoulder as she snatches the page away. Far more gently.

“My dear sister, may I introduce you to your grace — sir Sejanus Plinth of Newbury. Alongside him, his sister — Grace Plinth and their dearest friend, Coriolanus Snow, also of Newbury.”

You know well that you’ve just about boiled a vicious pot of scorching water, one you’ll have to face the many consequences of. A quick glance stolen toward mama proves it.

With a soft sigh, you curtsy to the men before you. A show of respect which you most certainly do not have for them. They are just as unimportant as the others, grand status or not. Including the miserable looking blonde with cold eyes.

“Lovely to meet you. This is truly a grand gathering you’ve all put together…” Sejanus offers with a smile of pearl. You peer up at him, his eyes stealing quick glances at goddess Jane.

Mama goes off on a tangent about how much she adores hosting gatherings as much as attending them — and it’s all a mere buzz in your ears.

Your eyes shift toward the sister, Grace. She’s scowling at you… how peculiar.

“Jane, forgive me if this is far too forward but — I would be most honored to be the last dance you partake in this evening.” Sejanus swallows back his nerves, wincing at the sound of his own voice. Sweet Jane doesn’t bother torturing him, she only nods a shy head.

“Oh, come Grace! I must show you how my youngest daughter performs on the grand piano!”

You feel poorly for the scowling girl who is whisked away by mama. Jane and Sejanus follow alongside them, but part as soon as the music begins.

Both of your palms come to a clasp— shifting weight on your heels as you watch Jane twirl and giggle a golden sound, so beautiful you are certain it could bring each and every single gentleman in attendance to their knees.

Well, except the miserable Mr. Snow.

Your eyes drift to him then — and you catch his gaze already locked upon your stature. He averts it hastily, staring at what looks to be the far wall after he is caught.

Does he plan to lurk here like a shadow’s phantom for the entirety of the evening?

“Do you dance, Mr. Snow?”

His jaw is a sharp — tense thing. It clenches in surprise at your voice. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he answers.

“Not if I can help it.” Is but all he offers before returning to a miserable state of silence again.

By god, to garner more than a mere word is equivalent to the act of tugging teeth loose. You purse your lips, turning your head away to find another question you could offer.

You do not bother, however.

For the first time in all your life, in all the seasons you’ve suffered — you wish to dance. Not because you find it to be fun or any more stimulating than a novel but; rather because you would be far more joyous away from him.

Beyond this, it would make mama less angered when the gathering reaches its end.

You do not offer him a word of parting before you plunge into the lively crowd. A man with blonde locks, not quite as icy as Mr. Snow’s own tousles, offers his hand.

You lose yourself in the rhythm, pretending to be that of a girl in one of your novels. Whisked away by a mysterious, dancing stranger who offers more than just a meaningless hand.

You pretend the blonde is to be a grand lover, one who will care for you beyond material needs. Beyond what is expected and a bore.

You pretend, and when the song ends — so does each and every one of your mindless fantasies.

To normality once again…

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Other ways for your character to say I love you?

“And the sunlight clasps the earth, And the moonbeams kiss the sea – What are all these kissings worth if thou kiss not me?” —Percy Bysshe Shelley, Love’s Philosophy

Be soft on someone - to love someone or like someone very much

“Be with me, darling, early and late.” —John Frederick Nims, Love Poem

Besotted - to be completely in love with someone and always thinking of them

Carry a torch for [someone] - to be in love with someone

“Clasp me close in your warm young arms, while the pale stars shine above, and we’ll live our whole young lives away in the joys of a living love.” —Ella Wheeler Wilcox, I Love You

“Come live with me, and be my love, and we will some new pleasures prove.” —John Donne, The Bait

Dote on someone - to love someone completely and believe they are perfect

“Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I’ll not look for wine.” —Ben Jonson, Song: To Celia

"For God's sake hold your tongue, and let me love [you]." —John Donne 1572–1631 English poet and divine: Songs and Sonnets ‘The Canonization’

Head over heels (in love) - completely in love

“I became fascinated by your goodness. I was drawn in by it. I didn’t understand what was happening to me. And it was only when I began to feel actual, physical pain every time you left the room that it finally dawned on me: I was in love, for the first time in my life. I knew it was hopeless, but that didn’t matter to me. And it’s not that I want to have you. All I want is to deserve you. Tell me what to do. Show me how to behave. I’ll do anything you say.” —Choderlos de Laclos, Dangerous Liaisons

“I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you. No mere human can stand in a fire and not be consumed.” —A.S. Byatt, Possession

“I dreamed you bewitched me into bed and sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.” —Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl’s Love Song

“I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.” —W.B. Yeats, Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

“I have to tell you, there are times when the sun strikes me like a gong, and I remember everything, even your ears.” —Dorothea Grossman, I Have to Tell You

“I have waited for this opportunity for more than half a century, to repeat to you once again my vow of eternal fidelity and everlasting love.” —Gabriel García Márquez, Love In The Time Of Cholera

“I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach.” —Elizabeth Barrett Browning, How Do I Love Thee? Let Me Count the Ways…

“I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only. I would like to be that unnoticed and that necessary.” ―Margaret Atwood, Variation on the Word Sleep

“I'll help you hide the body, always.” ―Me (L. V.)

“I’ve never had a moment’s doubt. I love you. I believe in you completely. You are my dearest one. My reason for life.” ―Ian McEwan, Atonement

“If certain, when this life was out, That yours and mine should be, I’d toss it yonder like a rind, And taste eternity.” ―Emily Dickinson, If You Were Coming in the Fall

"If I love you, what does that matter to you!" —Johann Wolfgang von Goethe 1749–1832 German poet, novelist, and dramatist: Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre (1795–6) bk. 4, ch. 9

"Immature love says: ‘I love you because I need you.’ Mature love says: ‘I need you because I love you.’" —Erich Fromm 1900–80 American philosopher and psychologist: The Art of Loving (1956)

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.” —Jane Austen, Pride And Prejudice

Infatuated with someone - having a very strong but not usually lasting feeling of love or attraction for someone

“It well may be that in a difficult hour, Pinned down by pain and moaning for release, Or nagged by want past resolution’s power, I might be driven to sell your love for peace, Or trade the memory of this night for food. It well may be. I do not think I would.” —Edna St. Vincent Millay, Love Is Not All

Live for someone - to have someone as the most important thing in your life

Lose your heart to someone - to fall in love with someone

Love me, love my dog - said to warn someone that if they want to be in a relationship with you, they must be willing to accept everything about you

Love someone to the moon and back - to love someone very much, usually used to tell someone how much you love them

“Oh plunge me deep in love – put out my senses, leave me deaf and blind, swept by the tempest of your love, a taper in a rushing wind.” —Sara Teasdale, I Am Not Yours

Steal someone's heart - if someone steals your heart, you start to love or like them very much

Sweep someone off their feet - to make someone become suddenly and completely in love with you

The apple of someone's eye - the person who someone loves most and is very proud of

The light of your life - the person you love most

“This poem is endless, the odds against us are endless, our chances of being alive together statistically nonexistent; still we have made it.” —Lisel Mueller, Alive Together

“Trees and seas have flown away, I call it loving you.” —Reginald Shepherd, You, Therefore

Worship the ground someone walks on - to love and admire someone very much

“You are my heart, my life, my one and only thought.” —Arthur Conan Doyle, The White Company

“You are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing.” —E.E. Cummings, I Carry Your Heart With Me

Sources: 1 2 3

[mysticheathenn]

Hard Messages From Love

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is all about messages from love itself. If you were looking for a sign from any kind of delusions...this is it. Hopefully this isn't too harsh.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

Pile l:

Messages from love? Tarot: 2 of Swords, 9 of Pentacles (reversed), 9 of Swords, The World, The Chariot (reversed), 10 of Pentacles.

Things that may surround your mind about love? Give me a sign if things should end or if I am being paranoid. I can't eat or sleep about a decision. I feel suffocated by this person and I don't want to feel this way or leave them. I need to follow my heart but what if my heart is wrong? I deserve someone who shows and gives me the world. This person deserves the world and more than what I can give them.

Pop Culture Reference: Pride and Prejudice Move (2005)

Message: Someone here has been on your mind for quite some time. For some of you, this is a decision that you need to make regarding breaking up and for others of you this is regarding following your heart. Following your heart can go two ways: 1) breaking up or 2) giving someone you have "friend-zoned" a chance at dating you. Either way, your overall message is to follow your heart. Make the tough decision that needs to be made and stop second-guessing everything. If you haven't been happy in a long time in your relationship then it's time to leave. If you know dating someone would bring you great joy it's either you date them or be upfront and honest by telling them you are either scared or just don't want to be with them. Either way, you need to let that person be free to date someone who actually wants to be with them or has the guts to go after what they want. There is no long-term benefit of stringing someone along. This pile is also about the required action that needs to be taken place. There are so many things in this pile that are impossible to mention, but you deep down know what this required action is. It's the action that will give you freedom from the torment of your mind. This group reminds me of the scene in Pride and Prejudice where Mr. Darcy says "Miss Elizabeth. I have struggled in vain and I can bear it no longer. These past few months have been a torment. I came to Rosings with the single object of seeing you. I had to see you. I have fought against my better judgment, my family's expectations, the inferiority of your birth, my rank, and circumstances. All these things I am willing to put aside and ask you to end my agony." (Yes, I had to put the entire iconic quote in this reading). Do the thing that needs to be done. Have the courage to either go after what you want or end what needs to be ended. No one can make or do these decisions for you. Just do it.

Pile ll:

Messages from love? Tarot: The Sun, Strength, The Tower (reversed), The Wheel, 2 of Swords (reversed), Death

Things that may surround your mind about love? Is this ever going to end? But I can't give them up. They will be back. They always come back. I want to be happy with only them. I need them. Ride or Die. Bad Marriage/relationship for life.

Pop Culture Reference: Round and Round by Selena Gomez, Will and Jada Smith's marriage

Message:

"We're going 'round and 'round, We're never gonna stop going 'Round and 'round, We'll never get where we're going, Round and 'round, Well, you're gonna miss me, 'cause I'm getting dizzy, Going 'round and 'round and 'round" - Selena Gomez. This pile somewhat was attracted to some degree to pile l. This pile is all about prolonging the inevitable when regarding a person. The tower card is in reverse and the death card is also here. There is a change that needs to happen between you and whoever this pile is about. The rain may fall today and tomorrow but eventually, you're going to have to give way and make room for the sun that desperately wants to clear some of the toxic patterns and unfulfilled desires that have plagued you for some time now. Just because someone keeps coming back into your life doesn't mean they are for you. Just because you have been with someone for a while does not mean you have to keep dealing with them because of history. History is great but also lessons are never learned there and you are not learning your lesson from the past history of this person or anyone else you have dealt with that is similar to them that you seem to not being able to escape. It's time to end the cycles you keep repeating. There is nothing romantic about struggling and settling. There is nothing cute about being a "ride or die" especially when that ride or die would watch you die. It's time to pull yourself by the bootstraps and end the cycles. You can't keep wondering why life gives you the same people with different bodies when all you do is continue to go after them or allow them to entertain you. Love wants you to know a change is coming and you're not going to like it. You may be left heartbroken to the point you may be turned off from love or people in general but you forced love's hand to do something you were not willing to.

Pile lll:

Messages from love? Tarot: The Emperor (reversed), 8 of Swords, Knight of Swords, 3 of Cups, Strength.

Things that may surround your mind about love? Speak no evil. See no evil. Hear no evil. Ignorance is bliss. I can fix him/her/them. Misunderstood. Little Red RIding Hood.

Pop Culture Reference: DW from Arthur "This sign can't stop me because I can't read." Link "This is your man. That's mine and I'm going to stick beside him." Link In My Head by Ariana Grande / Papa Don't Preach by Madonna

Message:

This pile might be attracted to pile ll but not all that much. This pile is for those who know someone isn't good for them but keep hanging around them. Your friends and family have told you this person isn't who you think they are or aren't how you keep trying to paint them. It's as if you keep trying to gaslight yourself into staying with this person because of the potential or the made-up version you have of them in your head. "My imagination's too creative, They see demon, I see angel, angel, angel, Without a halo, wingless angel" - Ariana Grande. You have the blindfolds on in this connection or about this person and you refused to take the blindfolds off all because what might either be of three reasons: 1) FOMO, the fear you might miss out on if this person does change or does something spectacular like get a record deal or win the lottery. 2) You have some sort of spiritual tie to this person through sex. For those who don't know yes, you can have an energetic pull or tie to someone through sex. If you find yourself in a dead-end relationship where you can't truly give substantial reasons as to why you aren't leaving even though you know the relationship has resulted in nothing but sex and history....soul tie. Or for most people it can be a codependency. 3) They suckered you into their web of victim mentality where they told you everybody has left them and basically uses the same techniques as an abuser to hook people into them to not leave. You remind me of the story of Little Red Riding Hood where it's quite obvious the wolf is a wolf and not her grandma but Little Red kept ignoring the signs of being in danger of the wolf. It's okay to lose out on someone. It's okay to want to be someone's cheerleader and see the potential in someone. What is not okay is when the person doesn't change or show these potentials that you know are somewhere in them. There is a saying that people change who they want to change for and unfortunately that person might not be you and that's okay because there is better out there who will or can match the person you want in your head and you have to stop to forcing those who don't want to be that person into that box.

Pile lV:

Messages from love? Tarot: 9 of Swords, Hange MAn, 5 of Wands, 5 of Swords, Queen of Wands, 9 of Pentacles (reversed).

Things that may surround your mind about love? They've changed. This time is different. Nobody is perfect. The heart wants what it wants.

Pop Culture Reference: Hanging on by Kim Wilde. Heart Wants What it Wants by Selena Gomez. 27 Dresses Movie.

Message:

It seems every pile might have two piles they may have been attracted to and pile lV you are no exception. You may have also been attracted to pile lll. Instead of having a blindfold on like pile lll when it comes to others or connections, you don't see your worth when it comes to matters of the heart. You constantly allow others to play you and you keep allowing them to because of the kind heart you have thinking that people change and maybe this time is different. It's wild how you would go to bat for people who treat you horribly but they won't do the same for you and for some of you you're okay with that because you feel you don't deserve healthy love or connections. Others of you, you secretly crave wanting someone to show you the same kind of love that you show others but low self-esteem as well as possibly history from dating people who don't speak positively to you have made you to believe you don't deserve that kind of love. You remind me of those who feel that they will always be the bridesmaid but never the bride, similar to 27 dresses. The main character was after a man who didn't even know she existed outside of her job (she loves her boss) and was always there for other people even when they were selfish and weren't there for her. You have such a big heart to give to others, but it's time to give your heart to those who deserve it. Stop allowing those who don't see your worth to treat you any kind of way. See a spade as a spade and not an Ace (again similar to pile lll). I don't know you pile lV but I wish I did so I can give you a big hug because you deserve all the greatness and beauty of this world. You shouldn't have to fight for a spot in anyone's life nor fight to have the love you deserve from others. It's time to pour that love you give to others back into yourself and attract healthy and loving relationships and people into your life.

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