The showing of feet and their position is important to analyze the progression in their relationship. Body language is an important indicator in signaling internal stability and thoughts, and your interest level in another.
In episode 3 (the first picture) by the placing of Victor’s feet in between Yuri’s, and Yuri’s passive stance, you can tell that Victor is the more dominant, confident, and alluring one. He has no problem with breaking space barriers or asserting himself.
This is something we would have never expected from Yuri in days of past, yet as we can see, half a year later, in Episode 9, the roles have been reversed.
This time it’s YURI asserting himself. He has his feet in between Victor’s stagnant legs. Yuri initiated the first movement. This time Victor is the one timid, unsure, and frightful and/or hopeful even. Yet Yuri finally knows what he wants, and he has no problem with asserting himself, being confident in himself, and TELLING Victor what he wants from him.
That’s seriously character development for them both, it makes them so much deeper!!
Newt Scamander x female reader
Warnings: pregnancy, anxiety
Specific Prompt: Newt and female reader are in Newt’s trunk walking around taking care of them all when they start to react a little differently to the reader. Newt’s a little confused as to why they’re acting like that, realizing they sense something but not understanding what until the reader tells him she’s pregnant. A little shock and a lot of happiness ensues. I’m a major sucker for fluff and domesticity.
Requested by anonymous
Newt didn’t know yet and you were unsure how to tell him. You hated keeping something like this- anything, really- from him, but this was something that took eloquence and proper timing, two things that you feared that you lacked.
“Newt, I’m pregnant,” you were alone in the shack in his suitcase, trying out different ways to tell him. “No, that’s not right. Er… you’re going to be a father! No, too upfront, I need to be more subtle. I could buy a cradle! No, that’s far too subtle. Far too subtle.”
“What’s far too subtle?” Newt came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders, causing you to jump.
“Gracious, Newt, you nearly scared me out of my skin!” you exclaimed- your heart was fluttering so madly you felt like the first time you had met him. He pecked your lips softly and sat down beside you.
“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we? Now, what’s far too subtle?” he asked, fishing Pickett out of his lapel and making a little jungle of fingers for him to climb through.
You cleared your throat, desperately searching for an excuse, “Oh, uh, the first time you tried to propose to me.” Newt chuckled and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“Well, I did get it sorted out eventually. And you’re the one who married me, so you would have forgiven me regardless,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. You pondered for a moment, then rose to your feet.
“Let’s take a walk around. Your fed everyone earlier, right?” you asked, holding out your hand. He took it, planted a small kiss on it, and stood.
“Yes. Everybody is fine right now.”
“Excellent. Come along!” you said, nearly dragging him behind you. It made sense now- you would reenact his final (and successful) proposal, where he had taken you around his suitcase, just as a casual stroll, but at the end, he reached into the Niffler’s pouch and produced a ring. Your variation would be you ending at the Occamy habitat and you selecting an egg, then telling him. Your plan was flawless. There was no way it couldn’t work, right?
“Hello Dougal!” you cooed at the Demiguise, with whom you were well-acquainted. Shockingly, he recoiled and squealed when you approached him.
“Dougal!” Newt exclaimed, appalled at his actions. You backed away, slightly hurt and highly confused. Newt turned to you, “What was that all about?”
“I… don’t know. I’m sure he’s just in a mood,” you said, trying to reassure yourself and Newt. This had to work.
You needed to keep on track, so you distracted him, “Aren’t I always?” you asked flirtatiously, striking a saucy pose.
“Yes my dear,” he chuckled, kissing you gently. Next was Frank. Now, you and him weren’t nearly as close as he and Newt were, or as close as you and others were, so when he very nearly kicked Newt in an effort to separate the two of you, as well as attempting to wrap his wings around you in a protective cocoon, Newt was practically heartbroken.
“What the? Newt! Newt, please help me!” you wailed from inside Frank. You were confused and hurt and just wanted to tell Newt that he was going to be a father, but his creatures were deterring you every chance they got. You heard Newt speaking nonsense to Frank in a calming voice, then you were released into the safe haven of Newt’s arms.
“Shh, I’ve got you darling. Now,” he said, pulling back and looking into your eyes, “What is it? Something is clearly going on that you aren’t telling me. You’re being suspicious, everybody’s acting strangely- Dougal seemed frightened of you! Did you do something?” You were definitely crying now. “Oh god, did I do something?”
“No, no, nothing happened,” you hiccuped through your tears.
“You’re positively sobbing darling! Something has happened! What on ear-” you couldn’t take it anymore, so you cut him off.
“I’m pregnant, Newt!” you damn near screamed in his face, your tears halting almost immediately. You watched him carefully as his expression morphed from concern, to calculating confusion, to shock, to excitement, to fear, then to something uninterpretable
“You’re pregnant? I’m going to be a father?” Newt whispered hoarsely, his eyes sparkling with unshed tears. You nodded slowly, still unsure of his emotions, then the ground seemed to disappear, for your husband had picked you up and was twirling you around. He set you down, his face glowing and your heart fluttering.
“Yes, Newt, yes. We’re going to be parents, we’re going to be a family, I’m going to be a mother, you’re going to be a father,” you murmured against his lips.
As an INFJ, the greatest gift you can give me is your
awareness. Do not hear me incorrectly –
I do not just mean your time. Time is
precious, and I value the gift of it above most others, but it is not the
greatest treasure. Your true attention,
your awareness of the little things about me, the nuances that most people will
never pay attention to is richer than gold.
Your effort to notice the things I do not say, the minute details that
truly comprise me tell me that you care, that I am worth going reaching beyond,
doing more, and that is the best gift of all.
I am a walking contradiction. All INFJs are, in one degree or another. I do not need to be the center of attention,
yet I love to perform. I love solitude,
yet I need human connection more than food or drink. I seem confident, and I am – yet I am utterly
unsure of myself, and I need to feel that someone believes in me. I am constantly testing, constantly trying
out minor changes, little things, to see if anyone notices. You can say it’s manipulative; you can say
it’s unhealthy. I say it’s true. If you really cared, you would notice without
me telling you. If you really knew me,
you would see what I’m doing. If…
People bustle through their lives, so overwhelmed with their
own concerns, their own worries, their own cell phone screens that they have
little time to pay attention to the people around them. Certainly, the demands of responsibility -
spouses that expect, children that demand, jobs that require – draw their
attention. But in the end, we are all
inevitably tied to ourselves. We don’t truly see the people around us. INFJs are no different, no matter if they’re
called “HSP” or “Empath.” We are still
stuck in our heads, selfish and limited.
But we are also impossibly connected.
When we interact with someone, no matter how casually, we pick up every
nuance. Our awareness is engaged in a
way beyond that of most others. We see. We notice.
We connect, whether we want to or not.
And somehow, no matter how certainly we know it is unfair,
we want someone to do the same for us.
We want someone to notice the fact that our smile doesn’t touch our eyes
and know that we’re tired. We want
someone to notice that we haven’t eaten in 2 days and to care. We want someone to see the tension in the way
we hold our shoulders and know we have a headache. We want someone to see the wonder in our face
and take the responsibility we carry so that we can go forget the world.
It is rare that anyone does those things. An intrinsic part of being an INFJ is moving
through a world of people who are all sure they know you. Sure they know what you want or think or
like. Most of them see their own
reflection in your mirroring skills.
They see a better version of themselves, not you. That makes them like their perception of you,
but means their confidence is misplaced.
They don’t really know anything about you. We grow tired of that, yet we learn to accept
it. We treasure the gift of time, and
appreciate the affirmation of others’ image of who we are.
But that affirmation does not reach deep because it is not
truly an acknowledgement of who we are.
That takes more. That takes the
effort, the attention. It takes the
power of conversation without distraction.
It takes the ability to read the subtle things, the things I will never
tell you, and know what they mean. It
takes the willingness to know me, and the intuition to read between the lines
that have been redacted by my fear, shame, and self doubt. That care is the greatest gift of all, the treasure
headcanon of a garnet form somewhere after cotton candy garnet but before eighties garnet, when she’s becoming more of her own person yet still unsure of her identity. this was also some light-source practice for me.
fun fact: many shades of only two colours were used in this.
Meet @zaphraud (person pictured in the first photo) one of the grossest blogs I have ever come across, he’s an all around asshole and has made multiple sexist, transphobic, and islamophobic comments. Not to mention the fact that he literally promotes bulimia and constantly is commenting on posts from ED blogs telling them how to purge. Has an “18+ ” blog yet has followed multiple minors. He had also harassed several other blogs for various reasons just to name a few thing he’s done. This guy is creepy and dangerous.
@staff I am unsure why this disgusting blog hasn’t been deleted yet but guys please REPORT AND BLOCK HIM!!! And remember you CAN block&report people from side blogs also both on mobile and pc!
Please contact me with any questions/concerns about this callout and please feel free to share your experiences with this asshole!
Every door has a story which unlocks so much more than just memories.
This was the first place I specifically looked for after having been told an amazing story of the heritage, history and ancestry of the original owners and their meanderings. Actually this place is one half of a story, as the house in front of it is intimately tied to No. 7 and its previous owners.
I carry this story with me, unsure of what I am to do or make of this privileged information, yet certain that I must ‘use’ it in some way. I fantasize of compiling a number of ‘door stories’ which provide snap shots into the lives lived behind doors. I am so intrigued and curious about the people inside, or those who have abandoned their homes, or even those who never even lived in them, that I feel compelled to gather them in some way.
If you have a story to tell, I am an eager to listen…. and I promise to cherish your story and to turn it into something as memorable as the narrative I would have been told.
I came up with a name! it gets called Tilde.. I’m unsure on if it is able to speak yet, but their hands are incredibly expressive. their body appears to be a vessel, one that isn’t always in use. when they move, although they appear flimsy they’re actually quite solid. I’m considering that it may be kind of a guardian, protective figure whos often left to its own devices. 6 hands is their average but they’re able to have any number of them
“You ready?” Barry asked with a small smile. With a jittery
breath, you slowly nodded your head, slightly unsure yet confident at the same
time. You were going to meet him. And
that is all that mattered at the end of the day.
“All right then” Barry curled an arm around you, ready to zap
through the breach to Earth-2 where Harrison stood patiently waiting, thanks to
You held fast to Barry, closing your eyes and hiding your
face in his chest as a source of comfort. As soon as the air stopped gushing in
your face, you slowly cracked your eyes open to see your man standing there,
his hands tucked in his pockets a small smile gracing his features and a soft
look in his eyes with a hint of longing.
Before you could comprehend what was going on, your body
moved without your consent towards where your heart wanted and you found
yourself jumping at Harrison, wrapping your arms around him in an instant.
He grunted in surprise but held you tightly nonetheless,
moving a few feet back due to the impact of force.
With a content sigh leaving your lips and your lips curling
upwards you further buried your head in his chest wanting to relish this moment
He had you in a tight grip afraid that you could disappear
any moment if he let go and so, his enthralling blue pools observed your tired
figure, before closing them and feeling relaxed, cherished the moment.
“I missed you” you mumbled making a small chuckle rumble
through his chest, “I missed you too.”
Dean downloads an app to find hot women around the states, but he didn’t think he’d find you.
Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: I don’t think so
watched his phone, his heart beating as if he ran a marathon, his eyes locked
on the photo of you—the girl he couldn’t get off his mind since that night you
messaged him. He hadn’t been used to the app yet, unsure of why you were
messaging him when he had nothing but a picture of him on the front end of his
finally figured out how to click on your profile, he was hooked. That picture
of you in your crop top and short shorts, showing off how long your legs looked
and your beautiful smile he couldn’t get enough of. He started asking for
pictures, not even dirty, inappropriate pictures, though he loved when you occasionally
sent one of you in your underwear, but simple, down-to-earth photos. You with
no makeup were his favorite. He grinned every time you sent him a new one, even
taking time out of his day to send you a message back, telling you how gorgeous
he thought you were.
you went on for ages. Dean felt like he could tell you anything, except what he
did for a living. Luckily, you two avoided asking that question, mostly
sticking to anything else but that part of your lives, and he was grateful you
didn’t push the question on him like some of the other women on the app, though
by this point, he stopped searching. You had his complete attention.
How’s my darling boy tonight?
grinned at the sight of your chat bubble moving, feeling even better the moment
he read your text. My darling you had
called him, making him feel like a million dollars.
Missing my girl. How’s my sweetheart?
I’ll be fine once I get my feet off the ground.
Haven’t heard from you today—is everything alright?
lied, he could have told you everything was just fine and that he hadn’t nearly
lost Sam to a Wendigo, that the sheriff hadn’t shot his arm, grazing some skin
off, that he wasn’t laid up at some motel room, miles away from you. But Dean
didn’t like lying to you.
It’s been a bad day. Brother went to the
hospital after an attack and now I’m lying here, alone.
Can I help?
Not unless you’re about to tell me you’re right
outside my door.
Well… No. Maybe I can help another way.
expecting another picture of that smiling face. He waited on it, the anticipation
causing him to itch all over and his stomach to tighten. It could be a naughty photo. He thought about it, what you might
send, like a pose he hasn’t seen before. The last one he got was pretty damn
sexy, but that was weeks ago. He hardly asked for them, wanting to respect you.
picture didn’t come and your bubble popped up again, Dean tilted his head to
the right, wanting to know what was going on. You never made him wait this
number appeared. Dean’s heart started racing against his chest. He noticed the smiley
face you added to the end, letting him know you were serious, it was okay to
call you. He’d never heard your voice before, only imagined it in his dreams.
time, he clicked on your number and it started calling you, ringing and
ringing. Now you were messing with him, tugging at his heart. It was a game to
you and all too real for him. You couldn’t know how much you meant to him.
His eyes grew
wide at first, listening to the angelic voice on the other end of the phone. He
dropped his gaze and his eyebrows were raised, trying to say something back. It
was like his voice was caught in his throat, he couldn’t speak, couldn’t make a
sound. Hearing you, your real self, it threw him off.
asked, sounding a little worried. Dean let his eyes droop closed when you
mentioned his name. It was blissful. Better than he ever thought. Then you
giggled, and his head started to swirl.
your voice just made everything better.” He admitted.
was, that giggle. “You’re going to make me blush!”
smiled. A real, genuine smile that he hasn’t put on his face in years. How
could a girl from the tiny computer in his hand be so perfect?
My order came in yesterday and I just found the time to open it today…
The packaging is always great, the pins arrived in good condition! I’m in love with the washi tape used to seal the pins in the clear plastic 💞💞💞
I had to grab the Yue and Sesshomaru! They looked elegant online and even better in person! I just noticed the small tear drop-shaped jewels on Yue - adds a nice touch to him! The lighting on Sesshomaru reminds me of the brotherly duel before Inuyasha unleashes the Wind Scar! ….. Nerd!!!