blake kathryn
occasionally subtle
Product Placement
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Three Goblin Art
Discoholic 🪩
if i look back, i am lost
Acquired Stardust
Andulka
titsay
Cosimo Galluzzi
art blog(derogatory)
No title available
cherry valley forever
pixel skylines
Jules of Nature
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
Origami Around
wallacepolsom
seen from Germany
seen from Ukraine
seen from United States
seen from Germany
seen from Australia
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Hong Kong SAR China
seen from Germany
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from India
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
@mel-talks
¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸.¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸
¸¸♬·¯·♪·¯·♫¸¸.¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸
hi!!! my name is mel
i love to write, and I love movies !! love pope cody, daryl dixon, bucky barnes, daniel riccardo, any josh o’connor characters and of course, spencer reid.
Letterboxd is daryldixons
requests are ✩-𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧-✩
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
𝐒𝐚𝐲 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝
pope Cody x wife!reader
“Andrew! You didn’t!”
“I always will.”
tw: violence (as always), a bit of angst, mob wife core, bleh, pianist
this is way too long 🫣
give me some freaky reqs!!!
The day you met Andrew Cody, you knew it was over.
What you didn’t know what that he’d been waiting, watching for nearly a year.
1994. February.
You had just gotten a job at a popular bar and restaurant. And one day— one day soon, you were gonna go to Hollywood and be one of the greats. For now, you were simply another jazz pianist.
You shuffled the cards in your hand, tapping them against the counter before taking the cigarette out of your mouth.
“Vito, seriously?”
You ask the bartender with a sigh. Vito— tall, Italian man, shrugs.
“Sorry. Is 80 not good?”
“No! Do you know how much rent is? 80 is not good! I work here for 400!”
“400, is too high. Danny says so.”
“Ugh!” You sigh, dropping your head to the glass.
You set the cards down, taking the whole carton of cigarettes over to the piano with you.
The issue was that Danny, your boss, would rather gamble than pay you. It’s bullshit. Really. You start playing.
Unbeknownst to you, someone finally, finally had their eyes trained on you.
Andrew, curls wild and a drink infront of him, watched you play. He’d never seen someone so passionate and it felt like the sky had opened.
Reminds him of the time he went to church and.. it felt like this. Like a brand new feeling he’d needed.
And he needed you.
It took him weeks to work up the courage to speak to Baz about it. Then months to speak to you. The first conversation was a disaster and ended with a drink covering his ironed shirt.
In January of 1995, you got cornered. You were walking home, stumbling through the California slush of the winter, when someone called your name. You didn’t even recognize him.
“I’m Andrew.” He said, offering his hand. The charm was irresistible and so, so, loving.
Sure, he’d miss a few dates here and there and say he got caught up with work but.. he was yours.
In July, one of those days came. It was eight o’clock. Two hours past when Andrew was supposed to here. You were sitting on the curb in your nice dress, twisting the bracelet he gave to you. That’s when you saw the truck pull up.
“Hey—“ he started, but you stood, beginning to walk down the road. Anything to get away from him, his charm.
Your heels clicked agaisnt the night pavement, a testament to your anger.
“Hey— I’m sorry, okay? I got caught up with work and Baz— and you know Baz, you met him.” He tries to explain, catching up with you.
“I don’t care, Andrew.” You reply.
He sighs. “Can you stop for one second? Hey!” He says, jogging after you.
Annoyingly, he places himself infront of you, stopping you.
“You always do this!” You say harshly, trying to contain the tears.
“Baby—“ he sighs,
“No! No more! You’re never here!” You say through the tears, struggling with the bracelet before tossing it down rather gently despite your anger next to where Andrew had gotten to his knees.
“I know.” He says, looking up at you. He pulls a velvet box from his coat, opening it.
You can’t help the gasp.
“Will you marry me? Please? I just.. I just want to take care of you.”
What were you supposed to say? No? Say no to marrying Andrew Cody? Were you crazy?
The only words you could say were yes.
You had no complaints. The wedding was your dream. Everything you wanted, you had. Fur coats, a big house, a grand piano, him. It wasn’t until 2003 you found out.. well, everything.
Andrew had told you he had no family. So, who was sitting in your living room— on your couch— if not family?
He lied, turns out. He had three brothers, including Baz, a twin sister, and a mom. Well, you were atleast glad you never met his mom.
And what Andrew did?
He robbed banks. Churches. Galleries. Jewelry shops. He was a criminal.
You.. you should’ve felt angry. Definitely. But.. it was your Andrew. Andy.
“Promise me you’ll be safe.” You say quietly that night.
he practically coos your name, pushing a piece of your hair back.
“I promise. I love you.”
And that was it. You moved on and got your gifts happily.
2005 was a turning point.
Sure, you had it all.
Andrew had even surprised you with a bed full of jewelry for you to keep. All of it. For you.
“Andrew! You didn’t!” You exclaimed.
“I always will.” He promised.
And that he did.
You didn’t work at the bar anymore. You didn’t have to. But you.. you weren’t at Zanzibar, weren’t in Hollywood with Elton John and Bill Evans.
You couldn’t help but feel unfulfilled.
“I’m home,” You hear him call out, shutting the door behind him.
You don’t move from your spot on the couch.
“Hey.” He says, leaning in for a kiss. You pull away.
“What’s up with you?” He asks, setting a bag of groceries on the table.
“What’s up with me?” You repeat.
“You’re being weird.” He points out, sitting across from you on the coffee table.
“What? You want a new jacket?” He offers.
“No, Andrew, I don’t.” You spit.
“What do you want?” He asks, as if he can make everything come true. Looking into his green eyes, filled with curiosity and danger and love, maybe he could. Just maybe.
“You took my life away from me.” You say.
He’s taken aback. “What are you talking about?”
“You wanted me to quit my job. You wanted me to be a housewife.”
“A housewife? I bought you a piano. You’re free to play.” He scoffs.
“But I’m not playing in front of people! You don’t understand!” You shout.
“I told you how many times you can go get a fucking job if you want! Just not a shitty one!” He stands
“You think playing piano is shitty?!” You question, standing and following after him.
“No, I just think the options are shitty!”
“You’re a criminal!” You argue.
“You get everything you want. Rings, coats, the kitchen, the TV. The fucking piano! What do you want from me?!” He yells in your face.
You feel your eyes tear up. “I want a life! I want to be in Hollywood!”
“Hollywood? Are you fucking serious?! Good luck!” He shouts, grabbing his keys.
“I’ll be back.” He adds, quieter, slamming the door behind you.
You’re already in bed by the time he comes back. You feel a hand on your shoulder. You don’t turn to look or say anything.
“Baby.” He whispers.
“Baby, please. Please. I’m sorry.”
You ignore him. He lays down next to you with a sigh, placing his head to your shoulder blade.
In the morning, he’s gone. You bring yourself to get up and get ready.
You still wear the ring. It’s like it’s your connection to your heart. You take it off, you die. Well, maybe that’s dramatic.
You make yourself breakfast and a coffee. Then another coffee. Then a coffee with vodka. Then you go. You get in your car.
The car was the only thing you bought. You’ve had it for years. Saved for it. Andy offered to buy you another one. An Aston, McLaren, Mercedes— Pink, Blue, whatever. You refused. He usually drove you anyways.
You haven’t been in this car for a while. Still smells like the first few weeks you were together with him.
You only realize where you’ve come when you pull to a stop. The conservatory. You grab your bag, and head in.
Heads turn. Maybe it’s the rings, the earrings. The coat. The shoes. The bag. Or maybe it’s just you. You’d like to believe it’s not you. You approach the lady at the front desk.
“Hi,” you say, careful of the quiet.
“Hi. How can I help you?” She replies cheerfully.
You dig in your bag, handing her a few papers.
“I’m board certified to perform. I’m a jazz pianist. I’ve got my FRSM.” You explain. The lady nods. She doesn’t even take a look.
“Congratulations.” She offers “How can I help?”
“Uh, I.. I wanted to perform. Compete.” You add.
“Oh. Okay. Well, this isn’t a performance conservatory. It’s solely a teaching one.”
“Okay, yeah,” you interject slightly. “I want to teach, then.”
She nods, taking the papers. “I’ll see if we have a gap and we can interview you.”
You nod back, even though it feels stupid. She makes an obviously false frown.
“I’m sorry. We’re all good on teachers.”
“Really?” You ask. “Cause you put an ad in the paper for teachers.”
She looks up at you.
“Well… yes, but—“
“But?”
“But you’re not what we’re looking for.” She says, pushing the papers back.
“Okay. Thank you.” You say, a bit annoyed. You take the papers back and head home. You do a lot of thinking. About life. Music. Andrew. Children.
You’re dragged out of your thoughts by the door. It’s Andy.
“Baby. I’ve got news.” He says. You get up and go to the bedroom.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I said I’m sorry. I have.. will you look at me?” He snaps, pulling you to look at him.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I just..” he hands you an envelope. You pull the two cards from it.
“Hollywood, huh?” He repeats your earlier want.
Your face falls into shock then happiness and then shock again.
“Ah!” You squeal, looking up at him. Tickets. For a show happening at the TCL in Hollywood.
“Andy!” You scream, and he smirks, looking at you.
He takes you into his arms, laughing as you jump excitedly.
Obviously, the night ends with Andrew’s head inbetween your legs and a whole lot of forgiveness.
superficial features which make a person objectively more attractive:
gender nonconformity
a profile in which the nose features prominently
striking and unusual voice
sexually repressed but in a way that I can work with
notable height (in either direction)
glasses
other unusual physical features (red hair, freckles, protruding ears, vitiligo, etc.)
visibly haunted
condemned by god to an eternity of suffering
plays an instrument
Guys!!!!
I want to bring something to you guys by Friday, but what do we wish for?!?
what do the people want?
sleeping with the television on part THREE
Cleanup Detail part THREE
Pope Cody x wife!reader (Carmela soprano, I aspire to be you)
˖🫧✧˖𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥˖🫧✧˖
This is part two! Part one here
Cleaning was easy money. Until it was bloody.
pope cody x cleaner!reader
comment to be tagged!
TW: smurf, incestuous implications, sexual immorality, pope being a bit weird, blood and violence.
taglist: @swiss-mrs, @blackirisesinthesunlight, @neverendingdreamers, @ty-png, @rathatosy, @cloudsovercoffee, @popeypuppy, @mentallyilldarling
You knew you were in for it when a week passed without a call. So you called Smurf.
She said to come in Saturday. Clean the house, stay for a party she was throwing and then clean that up too.
For 14k an hour, best believe you were gonna take your sweet, sweet time.
It was a hot, September morning. This semester had been kind to you, surprisingly. You were studying your dream and if you had to work for it, so be it.
You spent the day cleaning, humming softly along to the music in your ears. You met a few of the others in the house.
Craig— who lived in the room beside the garage.
Deran— who you actually quite liked— and had his own room.
Another one that didn’t live there but was apparently still Smurfs son was Baz.
Baz, or— Barry, lived in a house closer to the beach with his wife, Catherine, and their young daughter, Lena. Lena was a cute girl.
Baz had came with her and went to go talk to Craig.
“Do you like this?” Lena asked, brushing her dolls hair. You looked up at her from where you were cleaning the sink.
“Like your doll?” You ask back. “Yeah, she’s pretty.”
“No,” she sighs gently. No child of six or five years old should be sighing. You frown gently.
“Do you like cleaning?”
“Yeah. I do. It’s calming.” You say, not giving the full truth.
“My family’s crazy.” She adds. “They like to be loud.”
You nearly laugh. “so does mine.”
“Is your dad mean?”
It breaks your heart. You look up at her from your scrubbing.
“Mine? No. What do you mean?” You set the sponge down, looking to where she sits on the tub.
“My dad gets really angry sometimes.” And that’s what she leaves you with before Baz calls her name. Huh.
Baz seemed like a level guy. The new information barely registered in your mind as someone came into the washroom.
A girl. She was in a bikini top and a beach skirt, those ones that wrap. With the door wide open and you scrubbing at the sink, she pulls down her bottoms and begins to pee.
Who the fuck?
You try to steal a glance at her through the mirror but accidentally make eye contact. She asks you something in a different language.
“Sorry?” You question, turning to her. She lifts up her top, showing you her chest.
You’re honestly shocked. Did no one have shame in this house?
“Yeah, it’s nice,” you try to dismiss, and she continues in her language.
You’re saved when Craig pulls her out, kissing her roughly in the hall.
You shake your head, going back to your task.
The cleaning finishes easier than you find. About five hours. Smurf arrives around six pm. She brings home a younger boy, maybe 16.
He’s the son of Julia, you find out. Julia is Smurfs eldest daughter. Twin sister of Andrew. You wonder where either of them are.
J, the son, reveals that Julia overdosed.
Andrew.. no one spoke of him.
You find out soon enough when you’re rifling through a drawer in the upstairs main bedroom. You keep folding clothes every once in a while to make it look like you have a goal.
“Who are you?” A monotone male voice speaks. You jump, turning. You drop a pair of panties.
“Uh, I’m— I’m the cleaner.” You say.
The man is well handsome. Green eyes and brown curls and freckles. But he’s awkward. His stance is strange and he’s just staring at you.
“This is Smurf’s room.” He adds.
“No, I.. I know. I was putting away clothes.” You lie, picking up the underwear which was very lacy for a.. 60-something year old.
“It’s Smurfs.” He says, encroaching.
“I know.” You repeat, trying to back up. You back into the dresser, knocking over something. “Fuck,” you mutter, turning and trying to pick it all up. When you turn back, he’s directly above you.
“Shit!” You exclaim. He doesn’t react. He stares at you for another good minute before backing up, his eyes never leaving yours, and leaving.
Come to find out through Deran, who is definitely now your favourite, that’s Andrew. Or, Pope, as everyone called him.
The night had wearied on, and you were sat with Deran on the diving board. He was telling you about a guy named Adrian.
He loved him. Was a great fuck. But he knew Smurf wouldn’t like it, so he hid it. And he hated that J was back. He’d have to hide it even more.
You gave him advice, and he took it.
“Ugh, I need another drink.” You sigh. Deran agrees and you take his cup and go inside. You fill yours up with vodka and soda and his with Hennessy.
You thought you’d stop by the washroom to check your hair. You stop in your steps when you hear someone— Smurf— speaking.
You see the nice button up and the big arms and see Pope. She’s sitting next to him on the stairs, lying down, practically. She’s running her hand along his knees.
She’s cooing to him, and playing with his hands as he keeps his eyes on her.
“You’re so sexy, baby. You’re the best thing I’ve done.” She tells him, a smirk forming.
He doesn’t reply.
Her hand, moving as if the snake of Eden, snakes up to his waist. A small glimmer flashes in his eyes.
When Adam bit the apple, he was unaware. A struggle of consciousness. The snake was just a liar, an evil, evil, crying, wailing, manipulative creature. The scene was near exact.
Her hand undid his belt, not removing it. She began to unbutton his shirt.
You can’t bear it anymore. You go back to the party.
Popes eyes follow you deeply, as if trying to think of something else than his drunk mother.
It’s like you were the light to a fuse of chaos. As soon as you walked outside, you got decked.
Just hit straight across the face. You dropped the drinks and basically ended up in them as Craig and some other dude fought eachother. Deran came to your side, then tried to break it up and ended up pushing Craig in the pool.
Blood was already staining the marble of the house steps.
Just another mess for you to clean up.
But this family?
You couldn’t do anything to clean it up.
SHAWN HATOSY as ANDREW 'POPE' CODY Animal Kingdom | Covet (6.05)
…wow
˖🫧✧˖𝐂𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐮𝐩 𝐃𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥˖🫧✧˖
part two here
Pope Cody x cleaner!reader
Cleaning was easy money. Until it was bloody.
comment to be tagged!
tw: violence, Smurf.. blood, manipulation, yes…
🙂↕️
It started on a Tuesday. You remember cause’ it was both the worst day and best day of your life.
You spent your day 7-2 in lectures, 3-4 studying, 5-8 cleaning up a fucking mansion.
Atleast you were getting paid. That’s all you could think. And you didn’t mind cleaning. In a way, it was peaceful. And interesting. You literally never know what people are up to.
From 9-10, you started cleaning another house. A smaller one, but stil rich.
It’s not like you were horrible. But you didn’t want to get, what, shipped out and killed in some far away land.
So what? You pocketed a few things here and there and made it work.
The music was loud in your ears, only fuelling your want of your bed. You continued mopping the stupid hardwood floors.
You didn’t notice when the back door opened or when the arguing started. When you finally clocked in mentally, the shot came.
nice try, get out the way you're in our way, get lost forever
challengers — mangetout
𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧’ 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧
This is part two! Part one here
Pope Cody x news-reporter!reader
A robbing. Of your studio. It’s bullshit, right? Well, better get talking.
a/n: thank u all 🥺🥺 it’s midterm season so I’m ready for it all! Requests!!
tw: canon violence, blood, kidnapping, Craig is an asshole, Smurf (ew)
my lovely commenters: @akbl0gz, @seegull-111 @writingwithrach
Oh god. Oh god, help me, you repeated in your head as the taller guy yelled to keep the cameras on. The one behind you with the gun shoved it at you again. That was definitely going to bruise. You held back a wince, putting on a strong persona. That’s what you did in these situations, right?
“Read it. Now.” He commanded. You could slightly see long dark brown hair poking out from under his ski mask. You looked down at the paper, reading it over.
You swallowed your fear, and spoke.
𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫
Frank Langdon x wife!reader, Frank Langdon x Mel king
a/n: cheating Langdon, the other woman, Mel doesn’t know what she’s getting into, excuses and EVIL men, slight violence, heavy angst, swearing
You can’t be bothered to hold back the anger you’ve been given. Who cares about the other woman? What about you?
sorry Mel 😞
You should’ve left. This house was too empty, too big. Your dad told you he was out of your league. Jokingly, but, you knew he believed it. And even when he was hurt, you were with him. When he was high, you were with him. So why couldn’t he be with you?
˗ˏˋ⚡︎ˎˊ˗ 𝐒𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜 ˗ˏˋ⚡︎ˎˊ˗
Pope Cody x Reader Drabble
Your advisor is the worst. Pure evil in the body of an older woman who somehow always knows when you’re not in class. So, skipping your fourth class of the day with no intent of going, you duck into a cafe and bump into a guy. Who knew it would be more than that?
a/n: State universities are EVIL, advisors are EVIL, pope Cody is not in fact EVIL, canon violence.
You, 4:30
All you wanted to do was skip Psych. That’s it. But for some super odd reason, you couldn’t without getting called to the attendance hall. Sure, you were going to a great uni, but they were strict as hell. Dr. Kala, your Advisor, was on everyone’s ass all the time. Like, you got your PHD, why use it to make students who was 20 something go to class? What a sad life.
lana del ray x reader wlw
𝓒𝓸𝓪𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼
¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸♫·¯·♪¸♩·¯·♬¸¸
Lana Del Ray x fem!reader
You’re a for-hire desperate-grab guitarist who gets a second start with a kiss.
a/n: more requests.. hope this is good, never wrote wlw! Kiss, sexual innuendo. No hate to the killers, I love them.
Small blurb cause I really don’t know shit about LDR
Coachella, 2016
Sleeping with the television on by Billy Joel is one of the best songs I’ve legit ever heard
how do we feel about pope Cody x news reporter!reader based off it?
Pope Cody x news reporter!reader?
yes
noooo
results
Even though you're a stranger seeing your love for this song I was named Diane after helps heal my damaged heart. In my 44 years you are the first person I've seen show any appreciation for this song. During my abusive traumatic childhood I was repeatedly told I was named after the John Meloncamp song Jack and Diane, but when I was 42 I discovered the timeline didn't match up. So I dug into my baby book and saw I was actually named for this Billy Joel song. This probably sounds a little ridiculous and crazy but I was pushing 40 before I finally had a trauma informed therapist who let me know that my mother's treatment of me while growing up was abusive and that I had cPTSD. It was weird going from thinking I was named for a popular song to something hardly anyone had ever heard of. Anyway, thank you, I love and appreciate you, and this has made me happier than I've felt in awhile
That’s horrible what happened to you. I’m glad you’ve found your own path away from it! Thank you lovely. ❤️❤️
yall… new Suki out July 10th.. I’m so ready
𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧’ 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧
Pope Cody x news-reporter!reader
when your production company, Station four, changed the complete course of your show from actual news to horrible, blood-and-guts stories, your only option is to get terribly drunk on aperol spritz.
a/n: Billy joel!!! thank you all for the support! Lmk if you like this. Canon violence, fighting, getting drunk.
@writingwithrach
part two here
It’s either be the story or tell it.
Sleeping with the television on by Billy Joel is one of the best songs I’ve legit ever heard
how do we feel about pope Cody x news reporter!reader based off it?
Pope Cody x news reporter!reader?
yes
noooo
results
»»ᅳNew-Age-Loveᅳ►
Jack Abbot x Attending-surgeon!reader
Things that have happened this shift:
-Robby
-Rats
-Kissed by senior night shift attending Jack abbot
contains: Santos being mean (sorry!), canon divergence, between season one and two, kissing, sexual mentions
You had always been night shift. It was in your nature. But when Robby, your close friend, was going to a conference-thing-far-away-four-weeks-gone and needed someone to take over, you were his fifth choice. Fifth!
