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#stress position referenced
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One Warning
for Angstpril, Day 27: Til Death Do Us Part (alt)
cw: alcohol/intoxication, stress position, noncon strip, noncon touch, manipulative whumper, fear/anticipation of and referenced noncon
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Alexei's head was still spinning when he reached Titanium HQ. Not a new occurrence. Grabbing a drink or two after a mission had been normal before the Tower; nowadays it was practically a ritual.
Or in this case, a drink or six. Or seven. Maybe eight. He'd lost count. Lex would pay with a headache the next morning, and normally it would be worth it for the dreamless sleep and numbed thoughts, but tonight Spyglass had ruined his shaky grasp on tranquility.
Pestered him with talk of being good, of fighting back against Uriah, until he was ranting about his year in prison. The last thing he wanted to talk about, the last thing he wanted anyone to fucking hear about, but in the moment, he couldn't stop himself.
Lex tried to forget it on the way home, and it had all but trickled out of his thoughts as he trudged through the hall to his room.
Ball, call, doll, fall, he thought sleepily. As soon as he hit the bed, he'd be out like a light, and tomorrow the memory would be all the fuzzier.
But he could see light coming from under his bedroom door. And before he even reached out to push it open, he knew Uriah would be waiting for him on the other side.
"You ran into Spyglass." It wasn't a question. Uriah was reclining on Lex's bed, a narrow, stiff thing that looked sleek and futuristic but wasn't the least bit comfortable. His room was peppered with similar furnishings; the modern, fashionable stuff rich people liked to use in decorating. No carpet on the shiny wooden floor. No windows.
Lex stayed in the doorway, giving a sharp nod of acknowledgement. He really, really didn't want to do this right now. But what choice did he have?
"You didn't call me," Uriah continued.
"You never said that was part of my job. M' I supposed to notify you every time I see someone jaywalking too?" He made an effort to enunciate, to stand up straight, but the wry look that crossed Uriah's face told him it wasn't enough.
"Drunk again, Alexei?"
He didn't bother denying it. "Got a problem with that? I finished your fucking mission."
The other man shook his head, pushing himself up off the mattress. "Liquor always seems to sharpen your tongue. I'm not sure I like that," he said as he crossed the room. By now Lex knew not to try to shrink back when Uriah reached up to take a fistful of his jacket, pulling him closer until their faces were almost touching.
"Why didn't you tell me about Spyglass?"
"Y'figured it out on your own just fine. What, you need me to hold your fucking h—"
Uriah slapped him. Nothing hard, it barely stung, but it wasn't meant to hurt. It was just another way for Fox to remind him who was in charge here.
Glaring silently at the other man, Lex toyed with the idea of killing him. Right here, right now. He could do it. Might even be able to set the building on fire before they shocked him and beat the shit out of him and dragged him back to the Tower…
He inhaled a little too sharply at that thought, and he could've sworn Uriah flinched at the sound.
Ah. He knows it too.
"You said the rogue team was off the table," Lex said, dropping his voice to a low growl in an effort to seize onto the other man's momentary fear.
But Uriah was already back to his smarmy, composed self. "Hm, perhaps I wasn't clear enough. I won't send you after them, but I still expect you to report any sightings. They are a slippery bunch."
Lex clenched his jaw as Uriah reached for him again, this time smoothing the front of his jacket. "Noted."
"Excellent. Now why don't you take this off? You look uncomfortable."
He knew it wasn't a suggestion. Metal fingers fumbled for the zipper, and he dropped the jacket, making a point to ball it up and throw it into the corner as hard as he could. He left his tank top on, and Uriah didn't say anything about that. Not yet.
"Before I let you sleep, I have one more thing I'd like to discuss. Come have a seat."
As he followed Fox to the bed, a dozen worst-case scenarios flashed through his head, a growing sense of unease momentarily sobering him up, but making the twisting in his stomach that much worse. He sat at the foot of the bed, as far from the other man as possible.
"What were you and Spyglass discussing?" Uriah asked. "I was only able to pick up one half of the conversation."
Lex tried to recall what he'd said, if there was any way he could twist the topic into something that wouldn't give up any of the woman's plans to Uriah, assuming he didn't already know them. He shrugged.
"I was a few drinks in. Kinda fuzzy."
"I see. Then I suppose I'll have to remind you. It sounded like she was asking for your help."
(Kelp, whelp, yelp.) Lex swallowed. "Maybe."
"Well fortunately for you, you turned her down spectacularly," Uriah said. "If the conversation ended there, I'd be in here to reward you for your loyalty."
The mention of loyalty was enough to spike Lex's nausea, but worse than that was what came before. The 'if'.
"But you warned her when you left, Alexei," Uriah continued. "You told her I was listening. You told her to run. And while I can forgive the mistake of not reporting her in the first place, I can't overlook a deliberate sabotage."
He wouldn't go. He'd go down fighting, he'd take Uriah with him, he'd burn Titanium down and let it collapse over him. He wouldn't go back. He couldn't go back.
Lex could barely hear the last few words over the blood rushing in his ears. His mouth had gone dry. It wasn't enough, was it? One warning wasn't enough for Uriah to send him back, was it?
He flinched as Uriah laid a hand on his shoulder, barely able to restrain himself from grabbing the appendage and crushing it.
"You're trembling, Alexei. Are you so afraid of discipline?"
(Flayed, braid, delayed). He didn't dare to look up. "Don't send me back," he whispered. "I-it won't happen again. I'll follow orders."
Uriah chuckled. "Send you back? No. You're still of use to me, and besides, I like you."
The stomach-turning slickness of his tone was nothing compared to the wave of relief that washed over Lex. It took a lot to not slump forward and hold his head in his hands.
"But this kind of incident can't go unpunished," Uriah continued. "Stand up."
Lex did. The sudden wave of fear had sharpened his wits, but his body was still sluggish and swaying, and his head spun as he got to his feet.
"Strip," Uriah said, and he fought through his discomfort as he obeyed, pulling his tank top over his head, fumbling with buttons and zippers until his pants fell, and stepping out of his boots. Better to not dwell on it. To not think at all. Not give Uriah a reason to do anything else.
"I said, strip."
A moment's hesitation, and then Lex was removing his boxers as well, tossing them with the rest of his clothes, then just standing there. Too aware of Uriah's eyes on him, too proud to try and cover himself, no matter how much his skin was crawling.
"Come here." Uriah patted the mattress beside him. This time, the hesitation lasted longer, and when Lex finally began to take small steps towards the bed, he had to resist the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.
There was a small jingling noise as Uriah thrust a hand into his pocket, retrieving a heavy pair of handcuffs. He gestured with his head. "Up to the headboard. Hands behind your back."
Lex bit down on the inside of his cheek, seeking anything to distract himself. It's fine, it's fine, it's not the Tower, it could be worse, it was worse there—
Uriah locked one cuff on. Lex couldn't feel it, but he could hear the clash of metal on metal.
"If you fight me, I'll make this worse," Uriah said, and Lex almost laughed. How many times had he heard that one?
The other man stood on the bed, pulling Lex's arms back and upwards, until his own weight was a strain on his shoulders.
He heard the click of the other cuff locking, but it was a distant sound. He was too focused on the wrinkles on the bedsheets, scattered across the mattress like cracks on cloth.
But the unwanted touch he was bracing himself for never came. Uriah's weight left the bed, and for a moment he just stood beside it, looking Lex over.
"I hope this gives you plenty of time to think about where your loyalties lie," he said, patting Lex's bare thigh. It seemed more condescending than anything else; an odd thing to feel relieved over.
Now that the threat had passed, Lex was becoming aware of the building tension in his shoulders. The only way to ease it completely would be to stand up on the mattress, and even then he'd be forced to duck his head to avoid hitting the ceiling.
"I hope you never forget again," Uriah said as he stepped out, pulling the door after him. "You're mine, Alexei. Goodnight."
It was only a few minutes before his residual arms started to go numb. This punishment would be hell for the night, and he'd probably need to see the company healer for his shoulders in the morning, but he'd take it over others.
Over so many others.
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@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing
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hurtthemgently · 2 years
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19 for maze
Masterlist
19 (stress position)
From this prompt list
Cw: tiny whumpee, stress position, restraints, creepy/intimate whumper, mild lab whump, non con touching and kissing, burning
The vines that encircled Maze’s wrists pulled him up to where he could stand flat on his feet. He squirmed against the restraints. Kicking and swinging, Maze was able to lift himself up, but couldn’t get out of the vines.
The metal panel that he stood atop was thin, and he was almost scared it’d bend under his weight. Briar lit a candle and lowered it under the panel, and he sobbed, realizing what was happening.
The metal warmed under his feet. Quickly becoming unbearable. He pulled himself up by the vines, grabbed them as the restraint wasn’t enough to lift him, holding himself above the heated surface. The second his feet left the surface, they clicked a timer.
“Wait— please! Don’t leave me like this!” Tears fell, and he writhed to get out of the hold.
“Oh but how else will I find out how long you can hold yourself up? You’re so light, and can lift much more compared to your body weight. I want to know if you have the endurance to match that strength.”
“Please.” His eyes were wide, glassy with tears. A vine wrapped to fit between his teeth. “Mmhh!”
They left the room after checking the timer was working.
——
His arms burned. He couldn’t hold himself up for much longer, but the prospect of the burning metal beneath him was too terrifying to contemplate. He was shaking with effort.
Briar returned, and stopped to examine him with a magnifying glass, checking for burns. He strained as they circled behind him. Without warning, they pressed a soft kiss to his back. The movement pushed him, straining his arms.
He almost fell at this. They went to sit in an opposite corner of the room, reading a book in a language he didn’t know.
——
When he finally fell, his arms were ablaze moreso than his feet where he touched the hot surface. He heard a small sizzle before being lifted. He could only scream behind the gag, barely enough strength to keep his eyes open, much less try and move.
They tilted his chin with a sharp nail, and every little nudge sent waves of agony through his arms, through his stomach. He collapsed to the table when the vines let go.
Laying there, he wanted nothing more than to drift of to sleep, for the fiery ache to fade. Briar marked down the time, and put a gel on his feet.
“This’ll get those burns healed quick and clean, ready for us to test again tomorrow!” They cheered, blowing out the candle to save it for later.
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Chapter Eleven - Kindness 
TW’s:  Lady Whump, Missouri is being a MANIPULATIVE LITTLE- references to past injuries include: Stress position, chemical burns, and a cut. Conditioning (I think.) Sleeping pill / pain medication. 
Tagging: @i-can-even-burn-salad​ @whump-in-the-moonlight​ @villainsvictim​ (I think that’s my tag list. ALSO IF VILLAINSVICTIM IS OKAY CAN SOMEONE LET ME KNOW? I haven’t seen them around at all, last I heard she (I think) was sick. 
Notes: I really should have been making a list of her injuries because I had to re-read it all. I have a hate / love relationship with the story, idk what to think anymore. IT”S SO SHORT I”M SORRY, I TOOK FOREVER AND IT’S SO SHORT The author has been having a lot of trouble functioning in general. Sorry about that, I’m working on it
Previous /  ________________
Just when Maine was beginning to think that she could stay like this much longer- barely hanging with her arms over her head, and she was pretty sure her shoulders had popped out of socket- Missouri came back into the room. 
He untied the ropes, and she dropped to the floor, unable to find the strength to hold herself up. She tried to stand. She felt weak, pathetic, kneeling before him. Missouri didn’t let her. Instead, he sat down beside her, carefully looking her over. 
With... kindness in his eyes. 
Noticing he also had bandages, and a damp cloth, she met his eyes again. Her eyes were hopeful. Not daring to speak, she looked down. 
The knife was nowhere in sight, and she sighed in relief. Missouri spoke after noticing this.
“Sorry about that. I believe if I hadn’t been interrupted, I really would have ruined your pretty face. I’m not sure what I was thinking,” He said, putting a hand against her cheek and tilting her face so he could get a better look at it. “You really are so beautiful...” He said softly, staring at her for a moment before getting to work on cleaning the M shapes cut below her throat. “That will probably scar.” He mumbled to himself, satisfaction in his eyes. 
He began to work on her chemical burns, treating and bandaging them. He finished with her physical injuries, while she sat there, on her knees, her head down. 
Missouri slowly stood, disappearing from the room for a few seconds and coming back with some water and some medicine in his hand. He offered them to her. “These,” He said, holding out the hand with the pills, “Will help you sleep and ease the pain. Just trust me okay?” 
She didn’t trust him. But, if there was even the slightest chance that what he was promising was true, she would have done anything for them. She held out her hand, and he tipped the pills into it. She took them with water without any hesitation. 
“Goodnight Maine. I’m sorry, it’ll get easier from here, okay? You just have to cooperate.” 
She gave a sleepy nod, the sleeping pills already kicking in. Then, she remembered what cooperating was, and she didn’t need reminded. “Okay, thank you. I love you” 
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heavyhitterheaux · 21 days
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Between the Sheets (NSFW)
First Lady of Private Garden Blurb
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Synopsis: You come up with an idea that is the perfect way to wake up your husband 🤭
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Do not engage if you are underage
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Looking over at your husband's peaceful sleeping form, you simply smiled to yourself as you were admiring him. As of lately, he had been tired, stressed out, and overworking himself as usual no matter how many times you would get on him about taking a break.
Luckily, today was an off day for him and you were excited about getting to spend time with him, even though you had a strong feeling that the majority of the day would be spent with him sleeping. 
Glancing down at your phone you saw that it was almost ten in the morning and that was surprising since Jack hardly ever slept in. An idea suddenly popped into your head and you figured that he would be less mad at you if you woke him up like this. 
You slid off your pink thong along with your matching bra since you knew that this was only going to end one way and that was him being deep inside you. So you figured that you might as well get it over with. Ducking underneath the comforter, you comfortably positioned yourself in front of Jack before sliding off his boxer briefs and slowly started to stroke him. You felt him twitch, but kept going at an even pace before you placed him in your mouth. A few minutes had passed when you heard him start to stir and you were actually surprised that it took him that long. 
You knew he had been caught off guard when you heard a small gasp escape from his mouth and he quickly spoke up letting you know that he was now fully awake.
“Babe…..” Jack quietly whispered as he moved the comforter from over the both of you so that he could have his eyes on you.
“Gotta see my pretty baby and how well she's taking me.” Was all he said as he smirked while looking down at you and holding onto your ponytail. Your bonnet must have fallen off from all the movement and made a note to look for it when you were finished.
As Jack tightened his hold on you, you moved him further into your mouth and felt your spit leaking out the sides and running back down to the base of his dick which you quickly licked back up.
“Fuck!”
He threw his head back in pleasure and when he put his eyes back on you, he pulled you away from him.
“What's wrong?” You asked suddenly confused and why he was looking at you with that expression.
You moved forward so that you were now straddling him and all he did was smirk at you before leaning forward and placing one of your pierced nipples in his mouth and sucking lightly before switching to the other one. He then began to place a trail of kisses up your chest until he finally reached your mouth. 
“Nothing's wrong. I can't just admire my wife?”
“Hmm, of course you can.”
“And I see you're already ready for me. Good girl.” Jack said, referencing that you didn't have any clothes on as he slowly ran his fingers over your folds, seeing how wet you were.
Jack then lightly tapped your cheek and you immediately opened your mouth and soon felt warm liquid running down your throat along with Jack's tongue.
Once the two of you broke apart, Jack smirked at you once again before holding your face in his hand.
“Now finish what you started.”
After getting comfortable again, you slowly took him back into your mouth.
Not a lot of time had passed before you felt his cum hit the back of your throat as you immediately swallowed it and still continued to suck as you hollowed out your cheeks.
“Baby, wait a minute!” Jack told you, but you simply held eye contact with him as you moved him deeper into your mouth, not letting up for a second as you felt more coming out.
Once you finally released him from your mouth with a pop to come up from air, he was  smirking at you as you still continued to stroke him.
“Oh, almost forgot. Good morning, baby.” You smiled as Jack leaned forward to kiss you. 
“Good morning my love. That was a hell of a way to wake up.”
“And we're nowhere near done.”
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vomitdodger · 3 months
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Above is screen shot of Tucker’s video post Putin interview. It’s very worthy to watch as well. Complements the interview nicely. Tucker is holding the documents folder Putin continually referenced as proof of his positions. The interview is already buried by Bidens diasterous press conference last night. That’s intentional. Watch the interview. It’s world view changing. The documents will surely generate additional conversations.
Putin was very generous to the US on multiple aspects. Things said and implied. Surely some things were off limits, eg biolabs in Ukraine. Perfect soft introduction to a larger more complex discussion down the road.
Tucker seemed stunned Putin doesn’t talk to Biden. After last night press conference is there any doubt the reason? Putin continually stresses conversations are thru back channels. And Putin states multiple times he’s been burned by what past presidents have promised only to have the real decision makers change the deal. Putin knows the deal.
Interview really is earth shattering. The military spent decades training to fight the soviets then Russia. Americans have been told Russia is the enemy forever. It was all a lie to keep the machine rolling for funding and power. Like all things.
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bachissidehoe · 4 months
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it goes around again - nagi s.
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chapter 6 of 7 in the blue lock band series. chapter 1. chapter 2. chapter 3. chapter 4. chapter 5. chapter 7.
synopsis: nagi seishiro, the fan favorite of the band, doesn't seem to put in any effort at all. especially when it comes to showing up on time for an early morning photoshoot. but when y/n goes to track him down, he has other things in mind besides getting out of bed.
warnings: smut; multiple orgasms; riding; half asleep; semi-coercion; clit stimulation; fem!reader; submissive!reader; minors DNI.
disclaimer: all songs referenced are credited to THE DEEP END
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w.c 2.3k
Leading up to the last few shows of the tour, manager Mikage Reo booked plenty of interviews and photoshoots for the up and coming band. The growth they’ve experienced since bringing y/n onto the official team has been substantial, suddenly reaching wider audiences and being featured on multiple news and radio stations, and offered performance showcases on talk shows. As Reo put it, it’s important that they end the tour with the world wanting more of what Blue Lock has to offer, which will put them in a great position to announce a new tour for next year that will reach even more of an audience. 
That means that unfortunately, the band is exhausted. They’ll play a show, be expected to attend an afterparty, and then wake up early for an interview before another show. Today is no different, though it is their last long day before the end of the tour. Reo has planned an early promotional photoshoot for them, which means being prepared for transportation hours before the actual appointment. 
“Where the hell is Nagi?” Reo barks, trying to make some final checks before the band members’ hair and makeup appointments. 
“I haven’t seen him all morning.” Y/n looks around, following Reo with her clipboard. 
“I haven’t heard from him since last night.” Isagi chimes in.
“Same.” 
“Yeah, me neither.” The other band members agree. After last night’s afterparty, everyone returned to their rooms and fell asleep, including y/n, who can’t even remember if she saw the band’s backup guitarist at the party at all. 
“He’s probably still asleep.” Bachira looks over y/n’s shoulder at her pre-shoot checklist. 
“You’re probably right.” Reo sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose as if to relieve a headache. Nagi Seishiro can be a handful, sometimes he acts like a little kid with how often his manager has to take care of him. “I’ll have to go fi-”
“Don’t worry Reo, I’ll find him.” Y/n volunteers, figuring Reo could use some extra help in a moment like this. He’s always the one who picks up the pieces of the white-haired boy’s laziness, it’s only fair y/n offers to take some of that off his plate. He seems stressed enough anyway. 
“You don’t mind?” He asks. 
“Nope, not at all.” 
“Everything y/n has left here I should be able to take care of in time.” Bachira offers, taking y/n’s clipboard from her. 
“Sounds good y/n. Thanks.” Reo smiles, handing her Nagi’s room key. Even in the most stressful moments he maintains his sweet smiles and kindness. He could convince anyone to like him.
“No problem.” She says, hurrying out of the room and whipping out her phone to check on the hotel room Nagi’s staying in. She’s positive he’s only sleeping, all she has to do is wake him up and force him downstairs. 
She knocks on his hotel room door, leaning her ear against the door. 
Nothing. 
She knocks again- but still nothing. 
She sighs, unlocking his door herself and letting herself in. 
“Nagi?” She calls for him. 
His room is still dark, only a small streak of sunlight peeking in from the gap in the curtains. 
“Nagi Seishiro?” She calls again, peeking her head around the corner to see him sleeping soundly under some crumpled covers. He doesn’t seem interested in changing that either. 
“Hmmm.” She sighs, walking up to the edge of his bed. “Hey.” She taps him on his blanket-covered shoulder. 
“Mmm~” He groans, barely responsive to her attempts to wake him. 
“Sei.” She uses his nickname, trying to stress the importance of her arrival in his hotel room. 
“Reoooo~” He whines, mistaking y/n for his manager. “C’mere.” He groggily reaches toward her, lazily grabbing her shoulders and pulling her forward. 
Surprised, she loses her footing, falling forward into the bed, unable to use her arms to block her fall in time. 
“Ugh- Nagi-” She groans. “What’s-” 
He wraps his arms completely around her waist, holding her close as he rolls around with her trapped against his chest. Suddenly, y/n finds herself as Nagi Seishiro’s little spoon, with his chin resting on her head and his eyes still closed. 
“Nagi?” She questions, trying to wriggle out of his tight grip. “It’s not Reo- it’s y/n-” She says, wondering why he’d be trying to spoon Reo in the first place. He must be having a dream or something. 
“Seishiro! You gotta get up!” She says again, louder this time. He has a tight grip, that’s for sure. His muscles tense around her, it’s so clear how toned his body is even just from feeling his chest against her back. At the same time, the way he cuddles her is so soft and sweet, despite her being completely unable to escape. 
“Mmmm~ no.” He replies in a tired, raspy voice. Y/n feels her cheeks heat up, but she can’t tell if it’s from frustration or arousal from how pretty his sleepy voice sounds. “Missed you last night, wanna have you now.” 
“What are you talking about?” Y/n huffs, blowing a loose strand of hair away from her face. She can’t exactly use her hands to move it herself. 
“You can take me now right? Just real quick.” The sleepy guitarist rasps. 
“No- what? Nagi? It’s y/n. What do you mean?” 
“Hm?” He finally flutters open his eyes, breathing in the scent of her hair. “Oh, hi y/n. You’re not Reo huh.” 
“Uh, no.” She answers. “Now come on, we gotta go.” She pushes on him again. 
“Mmm, can’t right now.” He pulls her tightly against his chest, pressing his crotch into her ass, his morning wood so prominent that she can’t help but feel the heat rise in her cheeks. 
“Why not?” She finds herself squeezing her thighs even tighter together, the idea of being this close to Nagi’s hard cock making her start to feel the intensity of the situation. After her situation with Rin, y/n had decided to stop getting in everyone’s pants and focus on her job, so it’s been a good couple months for her. Even though it’s ultimately been better for her focus, she can’t help but find herself easily aroused in a situation like this. 
“Didn’t get to fuck Reo last night, so m’horny.” He says casually, too casually. 
Y/n can’t even begin to unpack that statement, and she doubts Nagi would be able to explain it to her. 
“Look you can fuck Reo later if you want, we got to go.” She says, her voice shaky. 
“Can I fuck you?” He asks, sleepily rolling over her. He hovers over her, his half lidded eyes shining in the small bit of light that peeks into the room. 
His proposition is so normal, as if he just goes around asking anyone to fuck him like it’s the most casual question in the world. But y/n wonders, as she looks into his eyes, her heart completely stopping under his soft yet intense gaze, if that is how Nagi gets so many girls into his bed, and apparently Reo. She doesn’t know if, in her current state, in his current state, it’s even possible to say no to him. 
She nods, unable to force her eyes off of his pretty face. He’s known as the fan favorite of the band- he never says too much but the world goes crazy when he does. Any time Nagi has a solo, the crowd is so hype that Isagi wrote a new song, It Goes Around Again, specifically to show off Nagi’s vocal range. In fact, that’s the song they’re supposed to be doing a photoshoot for today, to promo the song and select one to be the cover for the single when it’s officially released. Therefore, it’s absolutely crucial that Nagi’s there.
But in y/n’s horny haze, she can’t be bothered to care anymore. She’s desperate, she needs something, it’s been too long. She can’t believe that out of all the band members, it’s Nagi she hasn’t gotten to. He’s so damn pretty, such a gorgeous boy. 
“Nice.” He answers, dipping his head to meet her awaiting lips. His kiss is so soft and sweet, yet desperately dominant at the same time. He slips his tongue between her lips, holding his body over hers as he explores her mouth. 
She completely lets him take the lead, still surprised by his advances at all. Her tongue collides against his, creating a layer of glistening wetness on both of their lips, their saliva mixing against their tongues. He pulls her tongue further into his mouth, clasping his lips around the wet muscle. 
She can’t help but moan out as he sucks on her tongue, his teeth grazing her taste buds. He moves to her lips again, pulling her bottom lip between his teeth to suck on that next. It’s messy and wet, his saliva coating her lips and chin as he makes his mark on her. 
“Wearing a lil skirt. Cute.” He says, reaching one hand under her skirt to locate her panties. 
She finds her breath catching in the back of her throat, lifting her hips to let him slide her soaked panties down her legs. He’s not one to engage in much foreplay, not when he’s selfishly concerned with getting himself off since he so sadly missed out on it last night. And right now, y/n doesn’t care at all about how she’s treated. He could fuck her and refuse to get her off for all she cares, something about Nagi Seishiro makes her want to thank him for even considering her worthy of his cock. 
He slides his shorts down too, freeing his bothered cock and gripping it in his hand. He doesn’t even give y/n time to look down and see it before he’s forcing it inside her, shoving his thick shaft between her tight wet lips before her body can process the feeling. 
“Wow~” He praises. “So wet. Feels nice.” He grunts, warming his cock inside her pretty pussy. He lets it rest in there, feeling her tighten and pulse around him as he bottoms out completely. 
He ruts against her, his body falling on top of hers as he lazily stimulates the base of his cock with her hole. 
In almost no time, she feels him filling her, surprising her with a thick load buried into her walls. 
“Fuck~” He gasps, quickly pulling his cum-soaked cock out of her filled pussy. 
Y/n looks at him, confused. It’s not that it’s bad that he came fast or anything, she just didn’t get to prepare for it to be over. 
Lucky for her, he’s far from finished with her perfect little hole. He holds his body upward, gripping his soaked cock and pumping it, riding out his high with the overstimulation of his hand. 
“Ah, there we go.” He breathes, his cock hardening once again as he immediately stuffs it back into her. 
“Nagi- hmhhh-” She groans, feeling full again as his dick becomes fully erect inside her. 
“Don’t worry, will put the next load in that pretty mouth.” He breathes, burying his face into her neck, his hot breaths tickling her sensitive skin. 
In a swift motion, y/n suddenly finds herself flipped upright, with Nagi flat on his back below her. 
“You can ride, yeah?” He asks selfishly, his lazy, sleepy body too tired to continue his light ruts into her. 
“Mhm.” She answers, leaning forward as she desperately grinds her clit onto his fully exposed body. 
“Let me- you ride.” He demands, reaching to circle two fingers around her clit so she can focus on slamming her hips onto him. 
Her legs burn as she rides him, picking her entire body up just to force it back down on his thick shaft over and over, the room filled with her heavy breathing and moans. Nagi expertly swipes his fingers on her clit, letting her grind on them as he brings her closer to her edge. 
“Need it- please Sei-” She begs, slowing down her movements so Nagi can focus on getting her off. 
“So selfish~” He chuckles, his fingers moving faster on her clit as she begins to tighten around him, the knot in her stomach threatening to burst. 
“Mm~ fuck- I- cumming~” Her orgasm finally overwhelms her, her body shaking as she releases over his already cum-soaked cock. 
“Pretty.” Nagi hums, holding her hips as he thrusts upward into her tired body, eager to finish himself off as well. “Getting close.” 
Y/n can only whine and moan, letting him pound into her repeatedly as he twitches inside her. “Off now.” He instructs, pulling her nearly limp body off his cock. 
She allows her head to fall on top of him, just in time for his second thick load of the morning to shoot down her throat. She ensures she swallows it all, not letting a single drop escape. 
With a breathless sigh, Nagi pats her lightly on the head. “Thanks for that.” He says casually, as if she did some sort of simple favor for him. 
“Um, yeah.” She wipes her mouth, still blushing. “I understand why you get bitches.” She jokes.
“I understand why you’ve been through the entire band.” He fires back, though he doesn’t even mean it as an insult or a snarky comment. He’s so hard to figure out, that Nagi Seishiro. 
She can’t help but laugh. “We really have to get to this photoshoot.” 
“Sure, but you’ll come back to fuck me again tonight, yeah?” He asks. 
She blushes. “Yeah.” She says, looking at the floor. 
“You know I can’t sleep when you’re calling my name.” He hums, quoting the song y/n’s been desperately trying to get him to a photoshoot for.
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Can I ask why you don’t like Vil much? If you haven’t answered that already?
For me, I also didn’t like him at first but loving Rook has turned me into a Vil lover 😭.
[Referencing this tier list!]
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A significant part of it is no fault of Vil's own, it's just... I have a very strong aversion to celebrity characters. This dislike scales up the more famous that celebrity character is + how much attention is brought to their status, and well... Y'all know perfectly well how famous Vil is 🤡 This is why I also dislike his father to some degree, though it's to a lesser extent because I at least appreciate Eric being involved in his son’s life + find Eric to be friendly.
Celebrity characters tend to make me feel deeply uncomfortable chiefly because their careers put them in a position where they're ripe for parasocialism (which is when one party, ie their fans, extends emotional energy, interest and time, and the other party, the persona, ie the object of their affection, is completely unaware of the other's existence). Parasocialism in of itself is not a negative thing by default; it can, in fact, be a powerful motivator to improve oneself or can significantly lift one's mood. Some sectors entirely rely on parasocialism to function (such as the "influencing" industry).
Where it starts to get iffy for me is when we veer into the most parasocial of fans who will take extreme actions to support and/or hate on an individual. These are your stalkers, your sasaeng fans, etc. While I'm aware that these are the vocal minority of a celebrity's fanbases, the kinds of things these extremely parasocial fans pull off deeply unnerves me. Like Vil, the celebrities involved are by no means at fault—but they’re always “tainted” in my mind by the association due to the sheer magnitude of what their most crazed fans do in their name 💀 So when I think of that celebrity… I also think of the insane stuff they have to deal with from their fans and that stresses me out.
I find the whole “celebrity worship” culture in of itself very odd. It’s difficult for me to form an attachment to a real person that doesn’t or cannot reciprocate. By extension, it’s hard for me to wrap my mind around activities like following the celebrity’s life closely, supporting any and all projects due to their involvement alone, and collecting merch/signatures. Thinking of Vil’s fans doing this… (or, as seen in the Tapis Rouge event, getting emotional/shrieking for him, begging for a glance, fainting, etc.) it invokes those feelings of discomfort again.
Finally (regarding the celebrity thing), Vil and other famous people tend to be in the spotlight. I don’t really like this sort of a presentation; it calls too much attention to them. This runs counter to the types of characters I tend to gun for: the schemers who operate from the shadows, typically appearing innocuous or humble at first glance. These characters stay out of the spotlight and prefer it that way, as it allows them more freedoms to enact their plots. Celebrities’ positions don’t really allow for that. Even if their off-camera persona is completely different than their on-camera one, the attention they’re showered with never seems to fade.
I also find Vil’s entire presence way too intense (even when he’s lined up next to arguably much more physically imposing students like the 180 cm+ squad or any muscular character). This is why I can tolerate Neige but dislike Vil; Neige comes off as innocent and approachable—so much so that I don’t even register him as an idol or a celebrity in my mind. He’s just a cute boy-next-door type inviting me to dance and sing with him and his friends!
Vil’s hair, makeup, tall heels, the need for perfection, his sternness. It’s a LOT to take in. I can admire the confidence and the tenacity with which Vil pursues beauty, but at the same time… it can come off as super overwhelming. I don’t think I could comfortably breathe in the same space as him without feeling like I’ve offended his sensibilities 😅 Sometimes I get a little anxious just reading him scolding others; it feels like he’s reaching through the screen and scolding me too. I get the overwhelming vibes even through the things Vil creates or commissions; the composition and choreography of Absolutely Beautiful was so oppressive and centered on winning that I disassociated from my own school’s team 💀
Some other minor, miscellaneous gripes I have with Vil:
I don’t generally have a problem with Vil’s leadership or how he guides/teaches others. (His behavior is very similar to what I’ve experienced within my own culture’s upbringing.) However, I do not approve of all of his methods and I do think he does “too much” at times + oversteps, making me feel uneasy.
His tastes don’t really match mine! It’s a little too “glam”, especially the ensembles with heavy smoky eyes.
What’s with him dying the ends of his hair that color… It makes me think of him dunking his head in grape Kool-aid as a dye 😭/j
There we are ^^ I hope that explanation was sufficient!! I tried to explain my… admittedly complex feelings behind my dislike of Vil as neatly as I could. Nothing against the guy, how he is written, or his fans (both in-universe and irl), of course!! This is just my opinion.
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spectersgirl · 3 months
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heyyy!! so i just started s5 of suits and (spoiler if you haven’t seen it!!!!) harvey’s panic attacks were introduced after donna left and IM HURTING FOR HIM. but i think that’s such great angst material lol so if you’re still taking requests maybe something with that?
Hiiiii friends!
I know I've been gone for... quite a while... but I'm hoping to start writing more frequently again! I've undergone some massive life changes over the last few months and the stress of that basically caused me to completely burn out creatively. That being said, I have a TONNN of requests in my inbox and a few of them are generally in this same realm, so I will be using all of them for this piece, I hope that's okay with you all <3
The other requests were
"soft harvey just around his girl in a tense moment?!"
"hiii! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could write a fic where harvey had like a bad day at work and he just goes home and collapses onto the reader. like just hugs and softness and cuddles galore!"
I referenced actual events and lines from the show but changed up the context a little bit, obviously.
I appreciate you all for reading my work and liking it enough to request anything from me. I've never had such a positive response to anything I've created before, so this all means the world to me. Truly, thank you :')
Be With You
Harvey Specter x Reader
--------
It was nearly 11pm and you were teetering on sleep, having worked all day and come home to do a much-needed cleaning of your apartment followed by a glass of wine, when your phone loudly pinged on the nightstand. You fumbled for it and turned on the small bedside lamp next to you. You smiled when you saw it was your boyfriend, probably just saying goodnight, you'd assumed.
"Hey, can I come over? Please? I really need to see you right now."
A pit formed in your stomach reading the words on your screen. Though you hadn't been dating Harvey all that long, you'd spent a lot of time together, but he'd never sent a message like that.
"Of course, is everything okay?"
You couldn't help but worry, it was simply in your nature. You stared at the bubbles that indicated he was typing, which seemed to take an eternity.
"Not really, it's been a rough day and I just really need you."
Your heart lurched, Harvey had rough days all the time as a lawyer, but none had caused this response from him. You wondered what could've possibly happened. You got up, going back out into the living room and took a seat on the couch as you lit your electric fireplace with a remote.
"I'm sorry :( come over whenever, I'll unlock the door for you."
You did just that and looked down at the pajamas you'd chosen, just some shorts and a tank top. You decided they were fine enough for Harvey to see you in. You busied yourself with some TV to pass the time until he arrived. He was there in 20 minutes, and you immediately clocked the visible exhaustion on his face as he walked inside.
He dropped his jacket onto the couch without saying a word. You opened your arms for him as he walked to you and wrapped himself around you in a hug that felt like he was clinging to you for dear life. You stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he breathed you in, and you felt that he had been sweating.
"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You asked hesitantly, still cradled in his strong arms.
He shook his head before pulling back, allowing you to really look at him now. His eyes looked like he'd been crying, and his cheeks were flushed. Your heart plummeted into your stomach.
"Not right now, I just need to be with you." He said, his voice slightly hoarse.
You nodded and sat with him on the couch, laying your head on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. He absentmindedly stroked your hair while staring into the fireplace, debating on whether he wanted to fully open up about everything that was on his mind.
When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with nerves, and you sat up at full attention.
"I... A while back, right before I met you, Donna had left my desk to go and work for Louis. When that happened, I started having panic attacks. It felt like I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it just completely took over my entire body until it passed. She came back to work for me, and then I met you, and I think that combination helped me tremendously."
You nodded, listening as he continued.
"I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry or make you think I was weak, and since I stopped having them, I didn't think it was important anymore, but today... I had another one."
"Harvey, I would never think you were weak for being honest about your feelings or your struggles. I'd like to think you'd be understanding and supportive of me if I was going through the same thing."
"Of course I would!" He said definitively.
"Exactly. So, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to sit some more?"
He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.
"Donna told me she didn't want to be on my desk anymore, she said she wanted more. I get that, but I just don't know how I'm going to do what I do without her help."
"Did she say what she meant by 'more'?" You asked softly.
"She said she didn't know."
Harvey hung his head slightly, looking down at the floor. You could tell how much this was affecting him, normally he had all the answers and didn't sweat about getting what he wanted, but this time felt different. You knew how much he and Donna had been through for them to get to this point, so it never occurred to you that someday she might want to leave her position. You idly rubbed circles on his back.
"Maybe you can still give her more and keep her at the firm with you?" You suggested, desperately trying to come up with a solution to soothe the pain you knew he was in.
"I'd love that, but ultimately if she wants to go, I have no choice but to let her."
You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, you yawned and briefly closed your eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.
"You tired?" Harvey asked softly, suddenly noticing that it was long past the time you normally went to bed.
You nodded, sitting up again.
"Yeah, but I knew you needed me." You answered, looking up at him as you grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.
"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to keep you up." He replied, feeling guiltier than he had when he walked in. The time hadn't even registered to him after the day he'd had.
"No, no. It's okay, this is what partners do. You should be able to lean on one another, it's a balance. I'm glad you trust me and our relationship enough to want me to be with you for this while you process. Now, are you sleeping here with me or are we going back to your place? Because I know you, and I know you won't admit you don't want to sleep alone tonight."
Harvey smiled weakly before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.
"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered against your lips when the kiss broke.
The admission made your heart skip a beat. Neither of you had said the L word yet, but you knew from the moment you saw him that he was it for you. Harvey had felt the same but didn't want to come off as some crazy boyfriend that knew you for all of five minutes, so he buried those feelings deep down for as long as he could bare.
"I love you too, Harvey." You said, a smile growing on your lips.
"Let's stay here tonight, I don't want to spend another second not in a bed with the wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant, selfless woman that I love." Harvey declared, standing and taking you with him.
"Uh oh, you're gonna make me cry." You warned, sensing the impending waterworks.
"I'm just getting started."
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honkifurhoary · 1 year
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Emmanuel the Emu: A Story of HPAI Mismanagement
Emmanuel, the TikTok-famous emu owned by Taylor Blake of Knuckle Bump Farms, made national news last month when Highly Pathogenic Avian Influenza (HPAI) hit the farm. According to Blake’s initial Twitter thread, Knuckle Bump Farms lost 99% of their avian flock- over 50 individuals- in only three days. These deaths were attributed both to the disease itself and to a cull carried out by the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services, who did so with Blake’s permission. Emmanuel and a black swan named Rico were the only two survivors, with Emmanuel left unable to stand, unwilling to eat or drink, and quickly fading. Hundreds of thousands rallied behind Emmanuel on social media as Blake documented Emmanuel’s progress, reaching out to public figures like Dr. Pol of The Incredible Dr. Pol and Bindi Erwin of Crikey! It’s the Irwins for help when she failed to find any other sources for emu rehabilitation. But soon, controversy emerged.
Early on, avian influenza experts expressed concern that Blake was not wearing any PPE when interacting with a presumably HPAI-positive bird. Avian influenza is transmissible from bird to human which, combined with the virus’ ability to mix genes and rapidly change, means that PPE is universally recommended when dealing with a suspected or confirmed HPAI outbreak.
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In response to concerns, Blake explained that “Emmanuel freaks out whenever we approach him wearing a mask” and that the farm is on a state-mandated quarantine for 150 days, which is the amount of time HPAI is estimated to survive in the environment under ideal conditions. This quarantine reportedly only allowed Blake, Blake’s girlfriend Kristian Haggerty, Blake’s family, and veterinary professionals to enter the property. “I have taken every precaution recommended by the FDA” Blake stated, referencing the Florida Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services (FDACS) rather than the Food and Drug Administration (FDA).
Many people, including HPAI experts, found this explanation unsatisfactory and instead decided to contact the FDACS and USDA directly. Both the FDACS and USDA work collaboratively to manage avian influenza outbreaks in Florida. Dr. Danielle Stanek of the Florida Department of Health clarified that the DOH can recommend that private individuals comply with CDC guidelines, which includes wearing full PPE when interacting with HPAI-infected birds, but they cannot mandate that they do so. Therefore, Blake’s decision to forgo PPE was hers to make, even if it wasn’t in accordance with the recommendations of the FDACS, CDC, USDA, and Florida DOH.
Just as discourse between experts and Emmanuel fans reached its peak, Blake announced that Emmanuel tested negative for HPAI. Instead, Emmanuel’s sudden decline was attributed to stress. “Emus are incredibly susceptible to stress. He was incredibly overwhelmed by the state coming in and euthanizing our flock . . . He stopped eating the day they depopulated.” His lingering issues- the inability to stand or walk independently, twisted neck (torticollis), continued inappetence and dehydration, and lethargy- were caused by a nighttime collapse that left Emmanuel “thrashing on the ground for hours, trying to get himself up”. “He never once had a single symptom of AI, other than not eating”, Blake stated.
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HPAI symptoms in birds varies depending on the species and the individual. In chickens, HPAI often presents as respiratory and digestive distress, followed quickly by death. In other poultry species, symptoms may also include the nervous system, causing “tremors, twisted necks, paralyzed wings, laying down and pedaling”. Ratites- referring to the diverse group of keel-less birds that include emus, ostriches, rheas, kiwis, and cassowaries- also tend to develop neurological symptoms. Notably, emus can present with twisted necks (torticollis), ataxia (discoordination), leg and wing paralysis, inability to stand, decreased food and water consumption, purple discoloration or swelling of the legs and head, and lethargy. This corresponds with many of the symptoms Blake has documented in Emmanuel. And it should, considering that Emmanuel did test positive for HPAI.
Test results completed on October 27th, 2022 at the USDA’s National Veterinary Services Laboratories showed that Emmanuel’s serum sample, collected six days after the start of the outbreak, contained antibody levels that were consistent with recent infection.
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When Blake announced Emmanuel’s stress diagnosis, she was likely relying on information provided by a rapid test, which can provide results within 48 hours. These tests detect viral proteins that indicate active infection and virus shedding. Serology tests, on the other hand, look for the presence of antibodies produced in response to infection, not necessarily active infection. For an indeterminate number of days prior to the sample collection (October 17, 2022) Emmanuel had an active HPAI infection that, rather than stress, likely led to his rapid decline.
Why, then, was Emmanuel not included in the state’s cull on Knuckle Bump Farms? An email between Dr. Michael Short, the FDACS’ Animal Industry Director, and Kassandra Curiel of the FDACS’ Office of the Commissioner, answers this question. Dr. Short states that “USDA guidance is that ratites (emus and ostriches), black swans and exotic pet birds do not have to be euthanized due to lower risk”. Blake echoes this on her Twitter, when she says that “the state only focused on the “super spreaders” which are poultry species and ducks. Ratites aren’t included because they typically aren’t as susceptible.”.
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This allowed Knuckle Bump Farms’ four emus (Emily, Eliza, Elliot, and Emmanuel) and three black swans (two unnamed females and Rico), to be exempted from the cull. I cannot find any reference, either in USDA literature or anywhere else, that supports Dr. Short’s statement. In fact, all the literature that I reviewed and all the experts I talked to during my research only confirmed the devastating effects that HPAI can have on both ratites and black swans. This, coupled with the fact that three of Knuckle Bump Farms’ four emus and two of their three black swans died when “the virus hit them extremely hard and very quickly”, calls Dr. Short’s statement into question.
The USDA was also unable to substantiate Dr. Short’s statement. When asked how exemptions to culls were determined they explained that, rather than look at individual species, the USDA classifies HPAI-infected domestic birds as either commercial, backyard poultry, or backyard non-poultry. These definitions ascribe risk of potential HPAI spread by determining the level of contact a poultry premise has with other poultry premises. If a private farm or private household, where the poultry does not have any contact with poultry beyond the property, has an outbreak then they are classified as a non-poultry premises, even if they have chickens, turkeys, or other poultry birds. These non-poultry premises can thus be exempted from culling all their birds by being placed on quarantines by state officials, provided that they adhere to the quarantine and continue to not have contact with any poultry facilities. Knuckle Bump Farms does not sell poultry products; therefore, they were classified as backyard non-poultry and eligible for quarantine. The FDACS seems to have added their own interpretation onto this guidance when they specify ratites, black swans, and exotic pet birds as “lower risk”. I reached out to Dr. Short for comment but received no response.
This isn’t the only time Dr. Short and, by extension, the FDACS demonstrated faulty logic. In that same email between him and Curiel, Dr. Short used this comparison to explain why a citizen’s concern about Emmanuel’s exemption from the cull was unfounded.
“I have heard of only one report of a clinically ill human, over the past 1.5 years of a national response to the current avian flu outbreak. The risk of HPAI to the owner is much less than occurred with household pets that tested positive for SARS-CoV-2 (Covid).  I am assuming no one would advocate to euthanize all pets testing positive for Covid (At least I have not heard of anyone asking us to euthanize pets).
The risk of avian influenza is constantly occurring with all the wild birds in South Florida.  My understanding (not being a human health expert) is the risk to people, especially children and those immuno-compromised at public or private lakes, ponds and waterways from the AI being shed by water fowl is much greater than the sick emu at knuckle bump farm.”
Dr. Ben Golas, a VMD and postdoc with the USGS who is currently working on avian influenza research, weighed in. “It’s a bit like comparing apples and oranges to talk about risk of transmission of COVID vs. HPAI. With COVID, our primary concern is human-to-human contact. [. . .] With HPAI, farm animals are euthanized not only because the disease spreads within the farm flock like wildfire, but also to prevent spreading infection locally to other farms, because HPAI virus can be stable in the environment.”
The CDC agrees. “There is no evidence that animals play a significant role in spreading SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, to people. […] It’s important to remember that people are much more likely to get COVID-19 from other people than from animals. There is no need to euthanize or otherwise harm animals infected with SARS-CoV-2.” When it comes to HPAI, however, they emphasize that human-to-human spread is rare and often limited to only a few individuals. Bird-to-human transmission is the primary method of human infection, with each new infection increasing the risk that a new, more virulent strain will emerge. This, along with the potential for massive bird-to-bird outbreaks that could devastate both wildlife and industry, is why complete depopulation (euthanasia) is standard for HPAI and not COVID-19.
The FDACS seems to be operating on contradicting and unsubstantiated information when it comes to managing HPAI outbreaks. Unsurprisingly, the employees seem equally conflicted in their internal emails regarding Knuckle Bump Farms. One Florida USDA representative noted, while forwarding a citizen concern about Blake’s lack of PPE, that “her face is real close to a bird that has HPAI”. Another USDA employee responded “actually, in one of the pictures she appears to be kissing it on the head.”. Dr. Kendra Stauffer of the USDA wrote, “. . . part of the allowing the pet bird to live was that there were rules the owner was to follow from DOH, which clearly she is not”.
Other employees, however, were eager to show their support. Commissioner Nikki Fried of the FDACS posted a photo of her, Blake, and Haggerty, and later posted a photo of herself drinking Knuckle Bump Farms’ branded beer while wearing an Emmanuel t-shirt.
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Fried’s support generated a lot of concern, particularly amongst local farmers. One Florida emu farmer stated, “my disappointment and concern is 100% with the actions of Nikki Fried as Agricultural Commissioner to allow some birds to be exempt from depopulation, including emus, for no quantifiable reason. Emus are susceptible to HPAI. Emus in other states have contracted HPAI in this current outbreak and they either died on their own or were put down. Research shows they are susceptible to HPAI, and can spread it to other birds and humans. The decision by Fried and FDACS makes no sense and it sets a dangerous precedent.”
Considering that Blake has over 847.4K followers on Twitter, 938K on Instagram, and 2.4 million on TikTok, the precedent the FDACS and USDA have set here is, indeed, dangerous. Many of Blake’s followers learned about avian influenza for the first time through her documentation of Emmanuel’s illness and the state’s response to the outbreak. “I watch for Emmanuel updates every day! This has also been a great lesson for many people in farming education.”, one follower said. Another echoed this sentiment, saying “Thank you for taking the time to let us know what’s going on, and answering questions. You truly are an educator”.
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Herein lies the problem. Knuckle Bump Farms is a small, backyard operation. Through social media, however, they reach millions. This specific outbreak of HPAI and its subsequent (mis-)management by the FDACS and USDA has now set the standard for many, rather than the exception. Blake’s public failure to comply with PPE recommendations, the lack of transparency regarding Emmanuel’s true diagnosis, a similar lack of transparency within the FDACS and USDA regarding this outbreak, exemptions to cull protocols made with seemingly no supporting data, and a publicly-elected official openly (and financially) supporting Blake through this process, all pose a serious threat to public confidence in HPAI management and future public health. The concerns of farmers, virologists, public health workers and organizations, wildlife rehabilitators, and animal sanctuaries have been ignored, particularly when they asked whether Emmanuel’s fame and the risk of public backlash led to the FDACS’ decision to leave him and several other symptomatic birds alive. It seems, through this research, that there is more support for this theory than the narrative we’ve been provided until now. It is my hope that, with the publishing of this information, the very real concerns raised by people directly effected by HPAI will be given the weight they deserve.
Please take this opportunity to learn about avian influenza from reputable sources:
Protecting Birds from Avian Influenza
Avian influenza and PPE
CDC Avian Influenza
USDA HPAI Response Plan
Florida Avian Influenza Update (Oct 2022)
A huge thank you to the following experts who generously answered my questions: Dr. Ben Golas, Dr. Jim Wellehan, and Dr. Jennifer Riley.
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autumnmobile12 · 2 months
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The Sekoto Peak Tournament
It’s kinda funny how My Hero Academia is pretty much told through the lens of Midoriya’s perspective to the point where all other professions that have a fan following:  athletes, actors, singers, etc. just go completely by the wayside.  Just once, it would have been great to have Kirishima or someone mention a household name and Midoriya’s all, “…..?”
“Y’know, [insert name here?]  Legendary boxing champion?”
My point is, other professions outside of hero still exist and are probably just as popular as they’ve always been, so here’s the ‘Young Rei used to snowboard competitively’ headcanon.  This started as a piece I did for Inktober with a, ‘Rei’s a refridgerated character.  Don’t love that,’ attitude.   Because aside from finally making an attempt to fight for her family (a little late, sure, but I’m not here to do a character analysis right now,) Rei doesn’t have much characterization beyond being the victimized mother in Shouto’s story.
So two things to consider:
1.) Snowboarding is a high-intensity activity.  High intensity activities are known to reduce stress, anxiety and depression.  So Rei having this career before marriage (and possibly a little after) would have had a very positive impact on her mental health.  But after having four children, something this intense would be difficult to restart and being in her late twenties when Natsuo and Shouto were born, her professional career would have been effectively over.  Being cut off from snowboarding and its mental health benefits would have definitely contributed to her downward spiral in a more significant way than if she had never done it.  In its own way, this is also a reflection of Touya having all his energy and ambition and nowhere to put it, contributing to his own mental break.
2.) In both my Inktober post and this piece, Rei won gold and she’s wearing a different jacket, showing these were separate competitions.  Winning gold wasn’t a one-off moment; she was relatively successful and that may have served as some unspoken tension/resentment between her and Endeavor if she was one of the top competitors in her profession while her husband never made it past second place until over two decades into his.
I like the idea of this background for her.  I want to explore it further possibly as a one-shot, but I have a lot of ongoing projects right now (plus I’d need to do a little more research on how professional snowboarding competitions work,) so it’s a little up in the air whether or not an actual fic will happen.  For now, I hope you enjoy the artwork.
I also referenced Touya’s freaky smile for these, albeit not quite as intense.  He got that from someone, and my money is on Mom.  Mostly because I am entertained by the idea of a much younger Rei rocketing down a mountainside and terrifying other snowboarders with the same ecstatic, unhinged smile her son has.  And that footage probably exists online somewhere, someone in Class 1A is going to find it, and be all,  “Uh, Todoroki, I think I found a video of your mom.”
And just in case anyone asks:  Yes, that is Korra in the back.  I like to sneak crossover cameos into both my fanart and fanfics, and when thinking of characters, I remembered a behind the scenes LOK fact that Korra’s character design was partially inspired by female snowboarders.
The third snowboarder is also a cameo from a more obscure, nostalgia cartoon:  Suzy Lu from Storm Hawks.
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macabresymphonies · 4 months
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Are we dealing with alchemists looking for The Philosopher's Stone?
(I will be referencing partially to the ARG, most importantly to the so called Klaus sheet that has german version on categories the OIAR team is using, and some light spoiler to The Magnus Archives, so beware).
We're four episodes in and cross-referencing each episode so far, there seems to be few things that connect most of them:
an orchestrator
a medium
an obsession
a transformation
Each episode so far mentions some type of third party being involved in the incident: Harriet Winstead mentions a "consultant" that was supposed to help her see Arthur, RedCanary mentions getting harrased by an anonymous stalker, Daria commissions Ink5oul for a tattoo, Dr Samuel Webber mentions seeing his dead wife "Maddie" who stops him from tampering with the transformation (could be a hallucination, but could also be somebody using his delirioum to impersonate her) and today we've got a mention of a "giftgiver" who gave The Violinist the Violin.
Additionally each incident mentions some type of specific medium the characters came into contact with: The Box, The Violin, The Ink (cross referenced in Klaus sheet from the ARG), The Garden (as in plants in the garden). The exception being the Harriet, but we don't know yet what "caused" ressurection of Arthur. This is important, because in TMA items and "mediums" weren't actually all that common, it was very often stressed that relics were medium for the fears to use directly (with people only doing their bidding), not to be handled by others as a medium.
Lastly each episode talks obsession and/or transformation and oh boy, let me tell you about bunch of guys historically obsessed with tranforming stuff through different mediums:
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"It's not very suprising, alchemical symbols are everywhere throughout the podcast!" you might say. True, but let's take into consideration, what excactly is a goal of an alchemist? Well the answer is quite simple and there is actually three of them. The Three Goals of Alchemy are:
To turn base metals into noble ones
To discover the recipe for a Philosopher's Stone
To find the Elixir of Life that gives eternal youth and defies death
All of them refer to some type of recipie of method, so where are the recipies? Under our own noses. The recipies are the DPHW catalogue and the database Freddie is sending the incident reports to is an alchemical cookbook! Each entry is categorized something like that:
CAT$$$R&&#### - theme (specification) -/- subtheme [medium]
Some specifications:
$ - are a conbination of numbers 1, 2 and 3. They do not always appear in threes, sometimes it's just 3, sometimes 12 (as in 1 and 2) so forth. These has been widely theorized to be related to the The Tria Prima, a group of three materials which occupy a position of prominence in alchemy: Sulphur(🜍), Mercury(☿) and Salt(🜔) or as they are also characterized Soul, Mind and Body. If we assign each of them a number with 1 being Soul, 2 being Mind and 3 being body, they so far align with the main "components" of each incident or realms they deal in.
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R - either appears or not, it was theorized this is a RANK and that previous files were simply misfiled by Sam, but to me it also could be REGIA as in Aqua Regia (🜆) where we are to assume the R was added to the previous element (Aqua (🜄) + Regia (R)). The meaning behind assigning some some incidents the rank of regia has yet to be explained though.
& - these are letters C, BC, B, AB, A and S signifying a rank (or rang in the Klaus sheet) . Lets ignore that S for a second, but they seem to be stages and half stages, well there can't possibly a concept of four stages in alchemy? Let me introduce you to the Magnum Opus (Great Work). Basically each alchemical project went through four stages: nigredo (black), albedo (white), citrinitas (yellow) and rubedo (red) with rubedo specifically signifying a great discovery was made and Magnum Opus was a success, but it does not necessairly mean an alchemical goal was reached.
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To summarize, numbers one C-A signify stage of the project, with S, that appears once on mostly redacted cell in the Klaus sheet, signifying that not only the final stage was reached, but the project has been a success.
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This could mean a finished Magnum Opus is out there, developed in the field of the Soul and related to the mysterous Mr. B.
# - these numbers are still a mystery, I do have some theories myself, but to summaries I think they are grades and some type of combination (I think it's either 9999, 0000 (as in all 10s) or perhaps 7777 (7 being the most important alchemical number)). Basically a specific combination could imply the specific discovery could be categorized as a Philosopher's Stone. What that could mean for the narrative? We will see, but I suspect it's an alchemical equivalent to an eldritch nuke in this universe.
Last thing to support my theory, the OIAR logo. The lion and the unicorn are obviously symbols for the United Kingdom, as this is a government office, and the words undearneath are "we will not falter" (probably reference to the paranormal incidents they deal with) the rest though?
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Alchemical symbols for Salt, Mercucry and Sulphur are right there, all encompassed by an upside-down version of The Philosopher's Stone symbol; The Greatest Magnum Opus:
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As to what the Magnum Opus are in TMAGP, each incident has an item associated with it, I noticed that the characters do not get corrupted by people directly this season, but through the use of items like ink, instruments, plants.
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callmelyc · 3 months
Text
I'll just never get over how despite wanting to be the leader himself, Lance still helped Keith be a Leader and see he was capable of doing so after being stuck in his own grief.
And it's canon like?!?!?
They work so well together when it's time to be genuine I'm so ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ
It always makes me so sad when ppl erase or leave out that part of their journey. That Lance helped. Bc it's just so important to Keiths character.
It doesn't make Keith weaker or less capable that he needed it but he needed someone to get through to him/support him and Lance did just that without even being asked.
It showed their growth and maturity, it's so pivotal and not even from a shipper standpoint.
For Keith to be able to admit he messed up/was stressed?
HUGE
For Lance to listen? HUGE
"This is all my fault. I followed him right into this trap. Everyone warned me, but I didn't listen. I put the entire team in jeopardy."
"Yeah, you kinda did. But now we gotta fix it."
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That "we" is so important bc it's not even referencing just them two but the whole team coming together bc Keith was acting too radical he missed they were all there for him if allowed to be. They may have looked towards Lance to approach Keith (though Lance didn't notice nor need it he did so voluntarily) but they followed Keith as a leader from the start.
They were all willing to follow him, they all trusted him.
Lances voice was just loud enough and persistent enough to get through to him bc lance knew without shiro someone needed to try. Lance was so insanely supportive and so insanely important to Keiths rise to true leadership.
Keith accepting the help, the role, as himself and not as a replacement for shiro bc of that is always so powerful. He finally realized he didn't have to stand on a pedestal to be a leader, he could use his team as his pillars just as they could use him as one too.
"You're right. Let's go."
He's no Shiro but that doesn't mean he can't be their leader too.
Screaming
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Then later it's Keith reassuring Lance he's more than a replacement or a placeholder. They grow so much bc of that initial support being built up the trust they have in one another is immeasurable.
They understand eachothers positions more than anyone else could bc they're in similar shoes.
Two ppl taken from their lions to another.
Two ppl changing rank in ways they didn't want.
And that unyielding support for eachother is just so so satisfying. This is why I adore their bp Keith and red lance dynamic. Ok it's not as popular but it really shows how they grow as a unit and I wish they'd utilized that so much more.
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sagesolsticewrites · 3 months
Note
No ones written for Curtis yet !! (Masters of the air) if you wanted and didn’t have any ideas, what about they meet at a pub - he’s loud she’s quiet but he charms his way in ? Something sweet to take away episode threes pain
Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! Our boy Curt deserves some love, too! 🥺 And… what Episode Three? I have no memory of Episode Three, all that happened in Ep 3 was our boys had a big mission and then they all 👀👀👀 made it home safe 😇
(Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
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To the Rescue
You thank the bartender with a smile before turning towards your usual spot along the wall, martini safely clutched in your hands. The pub was positively crawling with soldiers— which was exactly the reason your friends had dragged you out of the apartment tonight.
“You need to get out more!” They insisted as they wrestled your hair into something slightly more stylish, Dot digging through her wardrobe for something suitable for you to wear.
“There’ll be plenty of very handsome soldiers there,” she had said, producing the soft blue dress you had subsequently been forced into, “It’ll be good for you to meet someone!”
You settle against the wall, resisting the urge to yank out the pins digging into your scalp, instead taking a sip of your martini as you scan the crowd.
Your friends had seemingly already chosen their targets for tonight— you spot Ruthie chatting to a blonde Brit over by the bar, and Dot had already managed to drag some poor soldier onto the dance floor with her and her two left feet.
Despite what your friends thought, you were perfectly happy being a wallflower. You enjoyed people watching— just as entertaining as normal conversation without the stress of having to contribute, you had once joked.
The theory was proven as you scanned over the crowd, picking up snippets of conversation, stories, jokes… usually coming from a particularly boisterous soldier speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the whole bar with a distinctive accent— New York or somewhere thereabouts, you guessed.
“Hey there, honey.”
Every part of you cringes inwardly at the voice interrupting your thoughts. British, you note immediately, with that hint of bravado that signaled he didn’t much care for your parts of the conversation— he was just looking to show off for his friends.
You couldn’t very well ignore him, though, and you try to hide your exasperation as best you can.
“Can I help you?”
“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit lonely over here, figured you could use some company. Maybe a drink, maybe a dance…” the Brit grins, and you take notice of the pins decorating both his and his friends’ jackets— RAF boys. Ugh.
“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” you assure them with the politest smile you can muster.
“Aw, come on,” one of his buddies speaks up, “Just one dance?”
At the clear refusal of that request, the other man that was with them chimes in.
“Or how about I buy you a drink? Seems like you could use a fresh one,” he says, nodding towards the martini glass in your hand— the one that was still nearly full.
“Thank you, but I’m alright, really…”
You attempt to edge away from them, mind racing for a way to politely let them down so they’d leave you alone.
Just then, a thick New York drawl breaks through the unsuccessful attempts at flirting, a welcome relief from the unfamiliar English accents.
“There you are, sweetheart,” the soldier says loudly, leading you away from the RAF boys, “Been lookin’ for you everywhere!”
One arm slung over your shoulder, he leans down to whisper in your ear “Trust me, okay?”
Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the other soldiers, he began leading you to a secluded booth in the corner, “I got us a table over here…”
As you slide into the booth, he turns to the RAF boys with a fierce warning glare and a subtle cracking of his knuckles, unseen by you.
The Brits scramble to find other targets, and the soldier — you still haven’t gotten his name — returns his attention to you.
“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep,” he says, “You just, uh… seemed like you weren’t havin’ too good of a time over there.”
“No, it’s fine,” you assure him softly, shaking your head, “Thank you, um…”
He seems to realize what you’re waiting for, and sweeps into a bow as he introduces himself.
“Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, at your service,” he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “But everyone calls me Curt,” he adds, straightening up.
There’s a moment of awkward silence as you smile and nod in acknowledgement, and then realize that you have absolutely no idea what to say now.
“…Well,” the soldier— Curt— says, once it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything, “I’ll leave you be, but if those guys bother you again just gimme a holler, yeah? I’ll sort ‘em out.”
“Wait!” You say as he turns to go, the loudest you’ve spoken all evening.
You pray the flush in your cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light of the pub as he turns back and you say hesitantly, “You can… stay, if you like.”
You gesture to the empty space of the booth, but add hurriedly, “Or if you don’t want to— I’m sure you’d rather—”
“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile, cutting off your nervous rambling.
He slides into the booth across from you rather than next to you, to your surprise, giving you enough space to feel comfortable.
“So, are you ever gonna tell me your name, or am I just gonna keep calling you sweetheart all night?” He asks, adding a wink to make sure you know he’s teasing.
You tell him, just barely loud enough to be heard over the band, and he grins, testing out the pronunciation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”
Like with most compliments, you’re not sure how to respond until—
“I don’t normally look like this,” you find yourself saying and oh of all the times you had to actually start talking, why did it have to be now? “I mean— my friends decided to doll me up for tonight, but I’m not normally—” You trail off as your mouth finally takes the hint to stop talking now and silently pray for the ground to swallow you.
“Hey, I should ask them for some tips,” is all Curt says, though, and you find yourself fighting off a smile as he rambles on about “wanting to find something for myself, it feels like everyone’s doin’ the same thing these days…”
The way he sighs forlornly, staring out at the sea of uniforms identical to his, is what breaks you, and the two of you collapse into peals of laughter.
You hear your name being called, and turn to see Ruthie — apparently having abandoned the blonde Brit— flagging you down, until she realizes you have company.
“Oh— sorry!” She says, before gesturing to where your other friend seems to have gotten a bit too deep in her cups, “I’m gonna take Dot home. You take your time, though!” She adds, nodding towards Curt encouragingly in her usual unsubtle manner.
You wave her off and tell her to be safe, blushing furiously at the expression on Curt’s face— he looks entirely too amused by Ruthie’s reaction.
“She gonna be okay?” He asks first, though, nodding towards where Ruthie’s leading Dot out the door.
As you assure him your friends will be perfectly fine, he nods, seeming to consider you for a moment.
“You don’t get out much, do you?”
You nearly choke mid-sip of your martini, surprised at his bluntness.
“What gave it away?” You manage to quip once you’ve recovered, waving off his concern.
“Your friend there,” he nods to the door, “I’ve seen my fair share of girls excited that their friend snagged a soldier, but… never that excited.” He concludes with a laugh.
“I guess I’ve always found all this,” you gesture to the room around you: the dancing, the laughter and occasional shouts from the soldiers, the music, “a bit much? I’ve never really been one for parties or bars or… any kind of socializing, really. Ruthie and Dot were plenty eager to get me out of the apartment for once, though.”
“Well I, for one,” Curt says with a crooked grin, “am very glad they did.”
You meet his gaze for a moment before smiling down at your lap, “So am I.”
The two of you continue talking through the night— Curt dominates the conversation, but in a way that you don’t mind; he fills what would normally be an awkward silence for you with jokes and stories, all the while leaving enough space for you to chime in when you feel like it.
The pub empties as the night goes on, and before too long it’s only the two of you and a handful of other people remaining.
You glance at your watch, wincing as you realize how late it’s gotten.
Curt takes note, already moving to stand as if he had meant to be heading back at this hour and asking with a smile:
“Can I walk you home?”
The easy conversation continues on the short walk to your building, and you find yourself on the front walk with Curt, dreading the moment he walks away.
“Wait— I—” you interrupt as he opens his mouth to bid you goodnight, digging in your small clutch for any scrap of paper you can find.
Producing a torn piece of what apparently used to be a grocery list and a small pen, you scribble down your address, holding it out to him.
“Write to me?”
A bright grin transforms his face as he tucks it away in his breast pocket, next to his heart, “I’d love to.”
The two of you simply… stand there in the moonlight, grinning at each other.
Your gaze scans over him, taking in the hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head, his slightly crooked tie, the equally crooked grin of this boy who took you under his wing for the night.
Summoning all your courage, you rock up onto your toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek.
As your turn to sprint into your building, though, something stops you.
Or more specifically, someone.
Curt reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back towards him. You’re the closest you’ve been to him all night, barely a breath in between the two of you.
He scans your face, gaze dipping down to your lips then back up, searching for permission.
At your almost imperceptible nod, he dips down and captures your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.
Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading through you down to your toes in the brief eternity his lips are on yours.
He pulls away, remaining close enough that your noses brush as his thumb caresses your cheek.
“Sweetheart, when I get back to base,” he begins softly, “I am writing you the cheesiest, corniest love letter you’ve ever seen.”
His laughter is infectious, and you hope your giggles hide the flush on your face at the mention of love.
“I look forward to it,” you simply say, barely able to speak around the grin on your face.
With one last gentle kiss planted on your cheek, he bids you goodnight, and you float into your apartment, waiting impatiently for a love letter from Curtis Biddick.
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biscuitblinkeu · 5 months
Text
Vanessa [4]
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Park Chaeyoung x Fem!reader
Word Count: 2546
ToSumUp: Your department gets a gorgeous new coworker who’s oddly affecting everyone. Rosie recalls the deal she made with Ursula.
A/N: Ursula: Now sing! Rosie: Hit chu with that Lamborghini we goin vroom— (Think I said this before but I don’t own Disney’s TLM characters at all, just referencing them😭👍🏽)
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“We got a new coworker today,” was the first thing Isa told you when you settled in your cubicle, a silly little grin on her face. 
“Don’t you think it’s weird the way you’re always excited over this? I swear…” you murmured, shaking your head.
“Of course I am!” She protested, rolling her eyes. “It’s always nice to have a fresh face in the office— a pretty face, I’m hearing. The boys and girls are following her around like lovesick puppies.”
“Is that so?” 
Isa groaned. “Would it kill you to be more interested?”
You motioned to the clock. 
“Yeah, yeah, I know it’s early. You always act like a grouch this time of day. Oh, look! There they go— I said look— it's been like that all morning.” 
You see, originally, you never planned to make the effort to turn your head and look, but Isa turned your face towards the scene anyway.
You squinted.
It was a few of your coworkers along with those from other fields, bustling and talking. Honestly, you never thought the tech department and the info department ever got along but there they were. It may be that they finally found something in common. Either way, they were crowded around the coffee machines, engrossed in noisy conversation. What was so interesting about that?
“I guess it’s weird seeing them getting along?” 
“Well, yeah, but that’s not the point I’m getting at.”
“Mm, okay.” You turned back to your monitor. Isa too, realized it was time to actually get to work and begrudgingly left you alone, not after a huff left her mouth.
You were halfway done typing away at the Google Sheets in front of you by the time an unexpected email came in. You opened it up without looking at it, then blinked as four words appeared on your screen. It gave you a shock to your system.
Come to my office.
“What could she possibly want at this time?” You stressed, looking to Isa for answers.
She tried to reassure your nerves. 
“But she never calls me to her office to tell me something, it’s usually over email. And who in their right mind sends an email like that with no context?” 
“I have to agree that it’s weird there’s no explanation, but I’m sure it’s nothing. She wouldn’t fire the best worker in this unit.”
“I wasn’t even thinking about being fired, but now that you put the idea in my head...”
“No, you did that yourself. Like I said: you’ll be fine. Now go, it’s worse if you keep her waiting.”
.
You knocked three times before opening the dark oak door. Your boss, Mel, was very young for such a position, and that could be why you and her got along well. She sat in her chair, filling some papers and putting them in a drawer.
You received a business smile and a hand gesture to the seats. “(Y/n), please sit. Why do you look so tense?”
You let out a puff of air, not so gracefully plopping down in the leather seat. Your legs were shaking the whole way here. “You sent me an email containing only four words.” 
“Right, I did.” She nodded, chuckling to herself. “It didn’t give you a heart attack, did it?”
“I’m surprised I’m not in the hospital,” you said bluntly, causing her to laugh.
“It’s good that you’re not. Believe me, it wasn’t my intention to scare you. I was preoccupied as I wrote it, and the person I was busy with is actually why you’re here.”
You raised a brow.
She folded her hands in front of her. “If you’re not already aware, there’s a new face in your department. To get to the point, I’d like you to show her how things work. I know you're a busy woman, but I trust you the most to do a good job.” She doesn’t mention that you seemed the most clear-headed, not easily swayed by batting eyelashes like your coworkers. Something strange was going on.
You sat up. “Supervise? I can do that. Is she here now?”
Mel shook her head, a rueful smile on her painted lips. “Unfortunately, she’s a slippery, little thing. I don’t know her current location, although, I’m sure you’ll recognize her when you do meet, she’s causing quite the stir and is usually at the center of it.”
When the office door closed behind you, you allowed your shoulders to slump. What were you supposed to do? Find her? Go back to work?
You didn’t really want to get involved with someone described as “slippery” and the cause of all events. This new coworker already seemed like a lot to handle and you haven’t even seen her face yet.
There was a buzz from your pocket, and you pulled out your phone. You smiled at the simple, grammatically incorrect text. 
Rosie: Hi how you are?
You were able to turn your old phone back on and gave it to Rosie. You’ve been teaching her the basics— mostly things she can text you if she needs anything or simply wants to see how you were doing while you were away; how to call or FaceTime. It surely soothed your nerves, having a way for her to contact you. (You were glad she was getting used to texting you, even though it was emojis or gibberish most of the time). It would be easier for her to use the microphone dictation, something your five-year old niece often did, but speaking was out of the question.  
You sent a voice message asking her if she ate, reviving a ‘yes’ and a few fried egg emojis shortly after. You asked her what she’s doing now. 
Rosie: Listen music
You imagined her sitting next to your record player, legs curled up to her chest and phone in hand, and smiled to yourself. Another text appeared.
Rosie: you go now?
You pressed the voice record button and continued walking to the elevator. “Not yet,” you said. “Just a little longer, and I’ll be back.” Once inside the metal box, you acknowledged the woman in there and pressed the button that would take you back to the second floor, patiently waiting for the doors to close. Just as they slowly began to slide shut, a panicked voice reached your ears. 
“Wait! Hold the elevator!” A little ways down the hall was a fancy-dressed man struggling to carry a box containing files and other documents, his glasses nearly falling off his face as he speed walked to the elevator. The woman next to you merely glanced at him before tapping away at her phone again, smacking on her gum like a horse.
You bit your tongue to keep from saying anything. Well, that’s rude.
Giving the woman a side glance, you stuck your hand out, the elevator doors gently bumping the sides before retracting. The man slipped past you and gave you a grateful smile, setting the box on the ground with a huff. The woman looked annoyed, but you ignored her. 
“Thank you for waiting,” he breathed, turning to you.
“It’s nothing,” you said politely, moving back to your corner. 
He straightened his suit, smiling still. “Well, I appreciate it. I’m Chan. You are?”
“(Y/n), nice to meet you,” you murmured. His smile was perfect, too bright, it made you want to cover your eyes. When he fixed his hair through the elevator reflection, you had the muddled thought you knew him from somewhere— probably from Isa. You couldn’t be bothered trying to figure it out though. 
The elevator ride was mentally painful. Once the rude lady got off, it was just you and Chan. He talked so much. He clearly wanted to get to know you, and you couldn’t fathom why. All you did was hold the elevator doors. You were well aware of the looks you were getting as he walked you down the hallway together (turns out you were going to the same floor). The stares burned the back of your head, and you were eager to get rid of Chan since he was most likely the cause. 
“I’ll see you around,” he had said when you finally parted ways. 
You collapsed in your chair with a huff, laying your head on the table. What was Rosie doing now? 
Isa entered your cubicle and patted your back, laughing. “You poor, lucky thing.” 
You lifted your head up. “Lucky?”
“Lucky,” she repeated. You watched the look lighten her face— she was about to gush. Bright eyes, teasing smile, it’s coming. “You knew who that was right?”
You blinked. “Who?”
She shook you. “The guy? Chan? I’ve mentioned him multiple times, woman!”
“Oh,” you said. “What about him?”
“I was so surprised seeing the two of you walk down here, I didn’t know you knew each other.”
“We don’t,” you shook your head. “I just held the elevator door open for him. I don’t know why he walked with me.”
Isa sighed, if she told you he had interest in you, you would deny it flat out, like you’d do with anyone. You had little self awareness, it frustrated her to no end. Didn’t you know you were attractive?  
.
Rosie sat curled up by the window, looking outside. It’s something she always does when you’re not here, or when she’s thinking. 
Something just didn’t feel right today, and that it has to do with what’s happening under the sea. It’s been a little over a week since she left.
She came to the surface to observe the humans, to figure out what’s so bad about them, why her father harbors such animosity towards them. She was aware her mother died by humans, she was there when it happened— she saw. However, she doesn’t think they’re all bad. 
Some of them are compassionate, like the man and his daughter who took her in and gave her clothes the first day she set foot in New York. She probably would’ve stayed with them, they would’ve let her, too, if not for his wife kicking her out. It was all a huge misunderstanding.
But then she wouldn’t have met you. Just thinking about you makes her heart pound in her chest, and she finds herself smiling.  
It faded when she remembered the deal she made with her Aunt to come here. It was suffocating living there, and out of desperation she made the deal to get away from her life in the water. The details of the deal are vague, she doesn’t remember the whole conversation. 
“You have one month. If you fail to… you’ll belong to me,” Ursula told her sternly, her tentacles wrapping tighter around her. “Are you ready to give it up?”
Rosie bit her lip and looked to the side. “If I become human, I’ll never be with my sisters or father again.”
“That’s right, but you’ll have your humanity. You’ll have your...”
“My...?”
“Yes. You’re thinking hard, I can tell. Life’s full of tough choices, isn’t it?” She laughed, then her eyes widened. She let go of Rosie and twirled around, suddenly youthful in expression. Her eels followed her, passing through Rosie’s sides with a snicker. “Oh! And there is one more thing: we haven’t discussed the subject of payment. You can’t get something for nothing, you know.”
Rosie shook her head, she had no money, nothing of real value. “But I don’t have—”
“I’m not asking much, just a little token— you won’t even miss it.”
“What is it?”
“Your voice.”
Every time she tried to remember, the thought disappeared. It was worrying. Then, there was her father; what was he up to? She knew he was enraged. It won’t be long before he sends someone after her— if he didn’t already.
.
“I need coffee,” you stated, making your way to the machines. 
You leaned on the counter, watching the brown liquid drip into your mug with a neutral expression. You added creamer and caramel, deciding you wanted your coffee sweet today. You heard a commotion to the side of you.
“it’s not supposed to be like this; won’t you all just stop following me?” Someone murmured under their breath. They were clearly exasperated, and the voices became more distinct as they walked closer towards you. 
“Vanessa, please let me help you with that.”
“I can show you where to go.”
“Let me take those for you.”
The woman clutched the papers to her chest, effectively wrinkling them as her jaw clenched in irritation. She didn’t sign up for any of this— she was here for one reason. “You’re all…very kind, but can’t you see I don’t want help? I can— umph!”
A body bumped into you just as you turned around, the jerk causing your mug’s contents to splash your chest. The brown, piping hot liquid seeped into your white shirt, and the moment it touched your skin you hissed, immediately pulling the wet fabric away from your skin. You scowled, moving back to the counters.
You heard a gasp, followed by a feminine “I’m so sorry! Here, let me…” although it barely registered when you were too occupied trying to get paper towels out from the roll. You began to messily wipe at it, hoping the quicker it dries, the cooler it’ll get. 
Soft hands pulled your own away from your shirt and began dabbing at the stain with a dry cloth (where’d that come from?), making you stare at the owner. Long, dark brown hair obscured your view, but you saw a flicker of pale, green eyes.
You blinked owlishly, embarrassment heating up your neck and face. “Uh, who are you?”
“Vanessa,” she murmured, glancing up at you. She stood up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, looking apologetic. “I'm so sorry about that, I should’ve watched where I was going..”
You were a movement away from gaping at this woman— she was beautiful. (If femme fatale was a person, really). When you remembered to respond, you shook your head, grimacing. “No, it's okay, I wasn’t paying attention all that much either.” 
She nodded, and when she spoke again, your heart skipped a beat. Her voice was low, smooth, rich with a hint of an Australian, and when she spoke, you found yourself unable to focus. Her voice was like a lullaby.
What was going on? You pinched yourself. 
Vanessa reached up, playing with her necklace— it had a shell design and seemed to glimmer in the light. “And what is your name?” Her gaze was intense and a smirk played at the corner of her lips as she waited for your response. 
“(Y/n),” you replied, watching as she rubbed her fingers across the shell. Your mind began to feel foggy— 
“(Y/n),” she repeated, smiling. She looked pleased. “I finally—“
“(Y/n/n)! You got a notification; she texted back!” 
You blinked, turning to Isa’s running form. She stopped beside you, side-eyeing Vanessa. “Come on, I’ll give you a new shirt,” Isa began tugging you along. 
“It’ll be nice to work with you!” Vanessa yelled after you.
Isa scoffed under her breath (something you didn’t hear).
“Work with me?” You wondered out loud. Then it came to you that she was who you were supposed to supervise.
Would you like to continue?
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ofallthingsnasty · 5 months
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Please indulge me with what the life of being arlong’s human pet entails
Gladly 😏 Sorry this took so long, I just couldn't write this without re-reading the Arlong Park arc and Jinbei's flashback. (But I have to say it gave me so, so much inspo for more stuff with him hehe - he just ticks off every violence and degradation box there is, what a character 🤭) anon is referencing this post tw. gn reader, violence, noncon, torture, free use mention, dead dove: do not eat, dehumanization, (inevitable) death, minors dni, read the tags and read them twice
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Nothing good, I can tell you that.
I know I talked about being his pet - but really, the term 'pet' is already way too generous. It implies that you’re in some favored position, maybe even loved - and really, you aren’t. You see, Nami is of use to him, is a valuable member of the Arlong Pirates due to her skills - and you? What exactly do you have that could gain you any favors with him? 
Nothing. You’ve got nothing but a too-soft body and a broken down spirit. Entirely useless for his endeavors as a pirate - but perfect for kicking, abusing, tormenting and blowing off steam. (And, he finds, you’re actually a nice example - much better than expected, especially when he parades you around in his towns, beaten and eyes utterly empty. When he’s feeling particularly foul, he makes you crawl in front of the villagers just like the World Nobles do. Just to show those little humans what he’s capable of. Nothing better to make them see how weak they are when he can just make you wipe your feet with your own dignity.) What he likes best about you is your fear, your terror - it’s probably what made him take you in the first place, because you becoming his little pet was more of a spontaneous thing, not planned. (He should have made an example out of you but your eyes... The way you cowered in front of him in nothing but raw, visceral fear was delicious back then and still is.) His personal little punching bag and stress relief rolled into one measly fucking human who does as he says because they’ve been scared into submission by his rampages and abuse. Still, I think he didn’t start out as severe as he treats you now - at first, you were shoved into some corner and unsure what to actually do with you, he just made you clean and serve his crew. To wring some measly fucking use out of you. To have some sort of justification for housing you at Arlong Park - because keeping you like this is just a waste of money. But there is a big difference between scrubbing the floor until your knees are raw to ‘earn’ a living and being forced to lick it sparkly clean with a foot on the back of your head - somehow, you end up down there all the same, each day you spent with him and his crew melting away their (already incredibly small) inhibitions as soon they realized no one is going to stop them from doing… just about anything to you. (And that’s one of the worst parts about this, really. That you’re free to anyone, with just a couple of privileges reserved for Arlong. Half of them spit in your face in disgust, the rest are more physical, for better or for worse.) I think he is a big fan of all things utterly degrading, just to put you in your place for the fun of it: addressing you like you’re an animal and not a person, having you crawl around Arlong Park (naked or not - really, that’s up to him), using you as furniture, strangling or pushing your head into his little pool long enough for your legs to give out - you’re so easily overpowered and always surprised when he catches you, it’s such a sight. And of course, you have other uses as well - and he doesn’t give a shit when he makes you vomit by forcing himself down your throat or you tearing when he’s too rough. You’re there for his entertainment only. It’s like someone giving a kid an inflated sword toy to hit their friends with: once he sees how far he can take it, there is no stopping him. His hatred for humans has few exceptions and you don’t fill any of them, not even when you try your best to be well-behaved. 
And one day, he’s going to kill you, intentionally or not. Like some threadbare teddy bear, your head is simply going to pop off, played with a little too hard, for too long. Be it some nasty infection you caught from a cut too deep or him holding your head underwater for too long or him simply kicking you too hard in the face - whatever it is, you’ll be wishing it had been the barrel of a gun instead.
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guardian5tiger3 · 11 months
Text
Paranormal / psychic read whatever comes out.
Groups
1 2
3 4
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Group one
You guys seem to be respected by spirits or at least the ones that have the dignity to show the right beings respect. It seems like you guys are closed off to a lot of spiritual activity especially low vibing.you guys might subconsciously or even consciously somehow help spirits in conflict perhaps humans using advice from spirit.it seems like you guys aren't aware of what activity does take place surrounding you because you're used to it and it just seems normal. It might be more in the daytime too. I do see you guys helping lower vibing situations spirits and or people somehow someway. Something about snoopy and something about awareness. Maybe also something about ice cream.
Group two
You guys might be or have a history of fighting against lower vibing entities at night. Like most likely not that bad just random ghosts and stuff. This seems like it could manifest in tons of ways but I'm seeing for some it could be insomnia or general stress with seemingly no source. You guys might want some type of pretty lights and all around make your rooms and or homes a good vibe especially at night. I'm seeing some of you need sage or something to burn. The brighter you glow the less the negative stuff will show up and be around. I'm getting something about something in the background.
It might be a good idea to focus on your subconscious mind maybe you need background noise or decorations or lights in order to help your subconscious.
Group three
Looks like there are spirits helping you and trying to take part in controlling certain situations going on in the 3d plane of existence. Earth. Whatever you want to refer to it as ok.i see someone smiling so maybe that's significant somehow.im seeing you guys being sort of lifted up or protected somehow by an or multiple entities. I see this entity or the multiple of them view you as a child I want to say kind of like how cats do. To be honest I am getting something about aliens. I'm seeing some spirit or spirits or somebody like that trying to offer you something positive specifically when you're upset in some way so my advice is if you will just sit or lay back close your eyes and let your imagination take you wherever ok.
Group four
Ngl I'm getting something about a morgue. I'm seeing an elder and a youth that are related somehow or just similar. I also see kind of a dickish peer coming to try to take over or something. If you somehow know what I'm talking about then spirit is just confirming that they see this and they're acting accordingly. I keep getting a reference to the dynamic of ash and the kid Gary I think and professor oak. This could somehow be referencing the importance of perspective.
If you feel vulnerable or lonely somehow you should rely on spirit at this time. Is this group scared of ghosts btw? Like I used to be scared of ghosts but still was interested type of thing haha. Some are good some are bad, like people. You definitely have some good ones by your side. So no worries. You just have to have faith in them and lean on the good ones. Something about a pig like a pet pig for someone or some of you. Something about a statue of a woman figure for somebody. This could even actually be the statue of liberty or a lady with a torch similarly. Or a bell maybe. You guys need to learn to reject the negative entities then it won't be so scary ok.
☮️
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