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#if you're planning to take on a whole community you will NOT be able to win i promise
tac-the-unseen · 1 day
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Gary 'Roach' Sanderson Sfw alphabet
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
He’s actually pretty affectionate. Any chance he has to hold your hand or kiss you, he takes it, including missions. He’s told you he takes just a little bit of time to love you because ‘I’ll never know when our time has come.’ He wants the last memory you have of him to be a loving one, and he wants his last to be spent thinking about his unending love for you.
And don’t think for a second that because he can’t talk he won't praise you. He leaves you notes or texts that tell you just how much he really loves you. He puts sticky notes on all the doors he knows you'll walk through. Every mirror, the fridge, your desk, computer monitor, windows, everywhere he knows you'll see them.
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
You two got close to each other while on a long mission. It was hard not too, Saving each other's lives on the daily can really bring people together. You ate every meal together, watched out for each other, took your time to understand what he wanted to say. You were able to build trust in each other fairly quickly because of this. By the time the mission ended it felt like you two had known each other forever. You were able to slip into a routine with him fast, becoming the first and last person you spoke to every day. It wasn't long before Gary started to catch feelings for you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
He likes cuddling, He doesn’t love it but he likes how it easily communicates his love for you. It's simple, but when you're with a guy that can’t speak, every little thing he does is noticeable and a declaration of his affection. The reason he doesn't like it too much is that even though he is normally cool as a cucumber, he can get overwhelmed pretty fast. He tries to let you know it’s not your fault, but it's hard to communicate that when he's overwhelmed. So even though he loves giving you physical attention he might pull away from this kind.
Sleeping is the exception to this, He always cuddles you at night. When it comes to cuddling positions he loves to hold you and wrap his whole body around you.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
Yes and No. He loves you, but he also loves his job. He loves the thrill and adventure and doesn’t want to give that up. He’ll buy you a house, he’ll live with you, but he will yearn for adventure. If at some point he’s on leave or simply allowed to go home he’ll take a break for like, a week. But after that he’s planning hikes, camping trips, rock climbing, stuff like that.
He's an okay cook, he's great on the grill though (His steaks are to die for).
He can clean, the military is really strict about cleanliness. If you need something cleaned up or otherwise taken care of, just point and he's on it.
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He breaks up with you face to face. He makes a list of the reasons why it wouldn't work. He makes it gentle and softly gives you the news. He feels bad about the break up and because he's awkward gives you a 50 dollar gift card to your favorite store or restaurant.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
He is willing to commit to you, but he will take his time to make sure you're the right one. He might be fast in a relationship but when it comes to marriage he takes his time.
When he’s sure he wants to marry you, he will plan everything out meticulously. He will secretly get your ring size, figure out what kind of ring you want, and what your dream proposal is. If you don't have a dream proposal he will combine his own dream and the things you like.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
Gary’s soft with you. He opens up to you and lets you open up to him. He’ll use sign language or notes to tell you about his past and feelings. He tells you about what he wants to do with his life or what he wishes to do with you.
When it comes to physicality he's still soft with you. He loves to hold you and softly touch you. Gary loves to hold your hand and hug you from behind. It's the easiest way to communicate his love for you.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He loves hugs but tries to make sure he touches you in appropriate times. It's hard to find the right times when you're fighting for your life all the time. When you get back to base or back to home, He's all over you. It's these times when he's okay with cuddling and prolonged touching.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
When teaching you to sign he left out how to sign ‘i love you’ because he didn’t want it to feel like he was forcing you to say it or that he was love bombing you. He was secretly signing ‘I love you’ but you didn’t have to know that. you aren't fluent in sign so it's not like you noticed.
He was being sent on a mission where he wouldn’t have any contact with you for several months. You two were outside while other soldiers entered the awaiting helicopters. He was in all his gear, mask up, and an ACR strapped on his back. After you had signed your goodbyes and he was at the entrance of the helicopter, He turned around and signed “I love you so much”. He didn’t expect anything to happen after as normally nothing did. Until you signed back ‘Love you more.’
In truth he hasn’t stopped thinking about that day.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
If put on a scale it would be 6/10. He's not insanely jealous, but he can't help the pit in his chest he feels when you're talking to another guy. He can play nice and not get deep into it, but as soon as the guy starts flirting, his nice act is out the window.
A fellow soldier decided to make a sudden and not at all anticipated comment on your ass…while Gary was in ear shot. It took Gary all of 3 seconds to send the guy flying and knock him on his ass. Gary was reprimanded as the soldier lost 4 of his teeth in that fight, Oh and the broken collarbone didn’t help either.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
This is the one part of the relationship (besides Marriage) that took the longest to happen. This is because it involved taking his mask off.
Once he was comfortable with you and the idea of seeing his face, he'd let the mask go and kiss you. It was actually the first thing he did when he took off his mask.
You two were in his room, sitting on his bed, you two had a long talk about his face and trust. After this Gary removed his mask and eye gear and held your hand. He took a breath then kissed you softly and passionately. It was a Huge milestone in your relationship.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
Gary is okay around kids, He can handle them for bits at a time, but kids don't seem to like him that much. Kids don’t like the silence, it unnerves the little ones. But he's kind and careful and has told you that if you want kids he'll do better with them.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
He just wants to hold you a little longer, To spend these gentle moments with you for as long as he can. He's the one telling you to come back to bed, pulling you back into bed and into his arms. He makes grumbles and noises of pleasure when you slither back into his arms. He may not be able to Tell you he loves you, but the kisses, noises, and cuddles speak for themselves.
Once he's out of bed and stepping into the day, He’ll get into his chores and start cleaning up from the night before and help you in your morning routine. Once he's done cleaning up and you're cooking breakfast you better believe he's hugging you from behind.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
Gary has a tough time going to bed. You have to convince him to come to bed and get some sleep. You can get him to bed by reminding him of the warm mornings or promises of intimacy.
He will slowly do his nightly routine to prolong the inevitable. He'll take his time cleaning up, showering, brushing his teeth, a little bit of skin care, then begrudgingly climbing in bed. His apprehension is swiftly thrown out the window once he is in your arms and in a warm bed.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It depends on what he's opening up about. Because He primarily uses sign language and writing to talk to you he can easily edit but for the most part he's pretty open with you. However there are something he would never tell you, no matter how close you guys are.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He is even tempered most of the time, He rarely gets angry outside of the battlefield. When he does get angry it's not at you and is never taken out on you.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
Gary remembers the little things, he’s hooked on every word you say. He writes what he thinks is important down. If you like to talk, well great, he likes to listen.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
You had found a box of kittens while on a mission. You had taken and hidden them from your teammates and captain. Gary found out about this when one night he caught back at base cooing of a blanket that meowed back.
You had explained yourself and told him you just wanted them to be safe and you were trying to find them a home. He kept the secret and helped you care for the kittens. You made the kitten get a good home and occasionally get updates about them. He loved seeing you in a Domestic light and liked feeling like a parent even if it was only for a few days.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
He's on guard all the time, He is a war criminal. He can be a silly little guy then into a serious scary soldier.
Physically: He will defend you till his last breath. He will do everything he can to make sure you're safe.
Emotionally/Mentally: He will make sure he's always there for you to lean on. His soft, loving personality gets even more soft and loving. He makes sure to free up time just to check on you and hold you.
When it comes to his safety, just knowing you care is enough for him to feel better.
Physically: He would rather die than have you put yourself in danger to save him. But if you do, he will enterally appreciate you and your love for him.
Emotionally/Mentally: He doesn’t like asking for help but when he does, it should be taken very seriously. Sometimes he just needs someone that nods while he signs away at what's troubling him. Other times he just needs to have someone to hold onto.
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
Depends on why you're having a date night. Obviously he’s not going to pull out all the stops for a casual date night but he's not doing the bare minimum either.
He puts in the appropriate amount of effect for your dates and makes sure it's something you'll enjoy.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He has a habit of sneaking food. The military trains soldiers to simply inhale the small portion of food given to them. Even though there is extra food he waits until he thinks no one is looking to ‘steal’ another piece. Everyone knows, no one says a word.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
The mask is really just to keep his identity safe. Even though it takes him a while to take it off, that's mostly to make sure he can really trust you. He is not too concerned with his looks but that doesn’t mean he has no concern about his looks.
Gary never really thought to care about anyone's opinion, but that changed fast when he developed feelings for you. He can and will clean up if you ask him to.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
It's a slow burn when it comes to this deep level of attachment. At first you were just this really cool friend, then best friends, then partners. You fell deeper and deeper into his heart before you became the center of it.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He communicates mostly through sign language, which he made sure to teach you. He took you step by step, getting you to understand how the language is ACTUALLY structured. He loved watching you try and figure out what he said and how to respond.
Outside of work, Roach has a couple deaf friends that he take on hikes and fishing trips.
If you ever get married, Ghost is his best man.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Someone unwilling to learn sign. Its his main way of communicating and its frustrating to write down everything he wants to say all the time.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)
He has to be practically dragged to bed if you want him to sleep.
The best way to get him to bed is too softly play his favorite music, lay down, and give him puppy dog eyes.
What is he going to do? Say no to you and that pretty look on your face? Absolutely not, he's flying into that bed.
Thanks for reading <3
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skadren · 1 year
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I keep seeing a bunch of live and let go, boundaries are personal and not moral stances posts about writing and i largely agree ppl should be able to explore what they want in fic but also. Is there a way to balance or talk about "hi um white author so you kinda reinvented racism/blood eugenics and unilaterally present sex work as inherently degrading and etc etc etc for Shipping Angst Drama fodder, when the text is like. None of that" in fandom or even just in like. A server community. Maybe I'm a bit sensitive bc i feel constructed/projected misery is kind of tacky to begin with and i wouldn't do it with a complete stranger but idk my guy. I don't want to alienate myself but it's weird to go completely uncritical here
i think there are a couple items you need to check off the list before you can go "yes talking to internet stranger #37461239 about a highly sensitive topic is a good idea"
is it tagged appropriately? if it's tagged trust me the writer knows. they have probably gotten way more unsolicited feedback than they would really like
is the portrayal you're concerned about reinforcing an unhealthy or discriminatory predominant social narrative? if it is and you think the writer is genuinely unaware, then yeah, it might be worth bringing up. the emphasis here is on predominant please i am begging on my hands and knees
will this result in a productive conversation? if the intent behind this is to get people to reconsider, it isn't helping anyone if you know it will just lead to them doubling down and doing it even worse. at that point you're only making a performative statement to validate your own stance
if it really is bothering you that much, is there a compelling reason why you can't just block and move on? it isn't your responsibility nor is it feasible to fix how a fandom is doing things, especially if it's a group of people you don't really know. your own mental health always comes first, and a bit of salty venting in private with your friends never hurts anyone
if it IS a friend or acquaintance who is doing this and you think they would be open to discussing it with nuance, then you can probably bring it up. if that person has a basic level of consideration and respect for you it tends to go well, but i've also seen people double down because they already know there's something wrong with their attitudes but get mad at you for wanting them to change, and then it creates a whole ton of drama and people get hurt and it's not pretty. so. ymmv
ultimately, someone's views on racism or sex work or whatever is reflective of a broader social norm, and fandom is not the best space to try to fix that through confrontation-- it's usually someone's "safe space" where they want to retreat from the world, not come face-to-face with any sort of personal reckonings. do i think it's a mark of privilege that some people have the luxury of ignoring these issues when they "just want to have fun"? yes, but again, this is about being able to have productive discussion, not about what's "fair". unfortunately.
my two cents: if you're in a server community or some other space that makes you uncomfortable there's really nothing wrong with going "hey, we have fundamentally different standards when it comes to [x], and i don't think i want to be here" and moving on. the best way to challenge these things is quite literally to make your own food. there's a much better chance of the people you're worried about coming across it and realizing they like it than magically being able to argue them down with well-placed logic and reasonable points or whatever
EDIT: OH ALSO IM STUPID if you mean talking about it in general. not naming writer names but trends in the fandom. yes absolutely-- not in a public space like social media but definitely find a group of people who you trust who you can talk about these things with!! it is good and healthy. just make sure it isn't just a discord server open to the public or smth tho so you personally know and trust everyone who can see it (and you don't accidentally shit talk someone who is in that space lmao)
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nanowrimo · 6 months
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Write Smarter, Not Harder: 5 Ways to Conquer Chaotic Writing
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Every year, we’re lucky to have great sponsors for our nonprofit events. ButterDocs, a 2023 NaNoWriMo sponsor, is an all-in-one writing app built for productivity, collaboration, and a more joyful writing experience. Today, the folks at ButterDocs share a few tips on organizing your writing to meet your goals:
NaNoWriMo is about to start, and you're champing at the bit to get to 50,000 words. But that's no easy feat! Because life doesn't stop when NaNoWriMo starts.
You're still going to have climb a mountain of chaos to reach your goal: Chaos like not being able to find your notes and outlines when you need them since they're scattered across multiple apps, or the constant lure of internet distractions.
And of course, once NaNoWriMo ends, the writing process continues. You'll need to get feedback, be able to actually easily take advantage of that feedback, and make revisions (especially if your ultimate goal isn't just a rough draft, but a polished novel).
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1. Know what you're about to do.
We know you want to start maximizing your word count from Day One, but you'll thank yourself on Day Twenty if you lay the groundwork for yourself. Take some time to organize your research, develop your characters, lay out your major plot points, and consider your themes.
You don't need to buy and learn advanced plotting software. A digital whiteboard can be as intuitive as pinning index cards to a cork board.
2. Write in the best environment for you.
You're about to spend a lot of time writing. It's a good idea to get comfortable.
Think about what environment you write best in. Do you need the hubbub and energy of a busy coffee shop? Or the serenity of a cozy nook?
Once you find the right place, put the same effort into finding a writing app you'll actually enjoy writing in.
3. Stay in your writing flow.
Focus and dedication during NaNoWriMo is the whole ball game. Lose either, and your chances of hitting 50,000 words are harder.
Whatever your NaNoWriMo goals are, give yourself the best chances to succeed with tools that will help you get and stay focused. A timer, word counter, and goal tracker will help you with timed writing sprints and hitting daily writing goals.
4. Recover from distractions.
Distractions will happen. Chaotic writing aside, the human brain wants to wander for dopamine. And life inevitably gets in the way.
What's important is how you recover. Don't let one distraction or missed writing day snowball into another and another. Give yourself tools that help you get back on track. A simple notification to come back to your writing can be a big help.
5. Pull others in to help you move forward.
You may be participating in NaNoWriMo as an individual, but know this: you are not alone.
You have the entire NaNoWriMo community, among many other writing communities and groups you can turn to for any genre of writing.
When you feel stuck or need feedback on a draft, don't be afraid to ask for help. Just be sure to invite people into a writing app where you have control over the collaboration.
ButterDocs Early Access + NaNoWriMo Resources
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sabertoothwalrus · 7 months
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hi !! just curious because i was looking at your adventure time episode guide and i love hearing other peoples adventure time takes !! how come you don't like finn's characterisation in together again?
I've talked about it before here and here!
But also I'm gonna say more and share some art I did in 2021 for a rewrite comic that I never got around to doing
So again to reiterate: Adventure Time is usually VERY good at making it feel like time passes, even when you're not watching. It's something about what they don't show that tells you everything you need to know.
Together Again did not do this.
It really really felt like they were avoiding showing Finn as an adult, as if they wanted to leave his post-show life ambiguous. Which, now that Fionna and Cake has shown us literally that, it makes Together Again feel even more wrong?? Like. imagine you have to pick a moment from your life that represents You™ the most. Together Again said that Finn, after living his whole life and dying as an old man, feels most represented by how he was at 17. I do not buy this. I am 25, and I cannot fathom identifying by my 17 year old self. I was a completely different person then, I was still cooking. I can imagine most people feel the same. And ok, so maybe Finn DOES for some reason feel stuck at 17? Explain to me why!! What needed to happen to him that made him feel that way?
And before you just say "it's because Jake died," there's still too much that was left out. How old was Finn when Jake died? What was Finn like, at that point? What else had they accomplished? What was he doing at the time that was on the forefront of his mind? Where/with who did they spend most of their time? Where were they living after the treehouse got destroyed?
It was like,,, it was like the story Together Again actually wanted to tell was about Finn's grief, and how poorly he copes, and how too much of his identity is tied to Having Jake, and how he struggles to move on. But that's not the story we got. I honestly think-- as interesting as it was-- everything with New Death and Tiffany and Lich just did a disservice to the focus, which was Finn trying to get over Jake.
I think Together Again should have gone like this:
Finn and Jake had always planned that whoever died first would wait in the dead world for the other to die so the two of them could reincarnate. Jake dies first. Jake would be able to "watch over" Finn as he lives the rest of his life, so Jake wouldn't miss Finn as much as vice versa, since he'd feel like he's still there with him. Eventually, Finn dies.
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Finn's appearance would change with his emotional state. I thought it'd be interesting to show different phases of his life through the stages of grief.
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There'd be a room where they could watch Finn's memories. Finn would walk Jake through the events of his life. We SEE exactly how Finn dealt with grief, with heartbreak, with love, with friends, with community. All the good and all the bad.
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By the end of it, Finn is quiet. "Jake... when we reincarnate, will we.. lose all of this?" "Well, do you remember anything from any of your other past lives?" "No.. But that's the point. I don't want to forget you." Finn, despite their promise, despite Jake waiting for him all this time, declines reincarnating. He doesn't want to move on, because that would mean forgetting everything. He wants to say with Jake!! He JUST got Jake back!!
“What if— in the future— what if they forget about us? What if they don’t know about all the stuff we did?” We see Ooo in its current state. It’s changed, but it’s clearly been affected by the two of them. Every person they’ve saved, every civilization they helped build, every hero they’ve inspired. They’ve left their touch everywhere. “They’ll know,” Jake says with certainty. “We’ll know.” We see the future, with Shermy and Beth. We see the Finn Sword, and BMO with all their old belongings. Everything stays, but it still changes. Will happen, happening, happened. These have always been the themes of the show. They reincarnate, together.
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blanketforcas · 9 months
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🚩Cult and cultlike/toxic behavior: red flags in fandom 🚩
A non-exhaustive list inspired by my 10+ years of experience in fandom, both personal and second-hand. By sharing this, I hope to make other people more aware and able to protect themselves in the future. No fandom space or friend group is worth your mental health.
They claim they have secret information and use that to lure you in
They might either lovebomb you at first or make you (feel like you have to) prove your worth
The leader(s) of the group might not feel super approachable, at least not without fear of saying the wrong thing
They seem to create or point out a divide in fandom you’d never noticed before. Likely this divide isn’t actually there in wider fandom, or the need for it is wholly unnecessary.
They create an us vs them (outsiders) situation. Their group has the most knowledge and expertise, if others critique them it’s simply cause they must’ve heard false rumors. They are always the ones who are “misunderstood”.
Questioning statements from leaders/people with high regard in the group, is not without risk. You can get dogpiled, your intelligence put into question and gaslit about your own words and feelings.
You see discussions happen and get more heated, and at the end of that discussion the person on the receiving end of the things mentioned above ^ starts apologizing profusely and/or believes they are indeed stupid. However, if this person does keep defending their stance, they might get bullied or kicked out of the server/group chat
Too much emphasis on Being Right/having the correct take or theory – it may seem it has a higher priority than empathy and tactful communication
You need to have an opinion (their opinion), because silence equals condoning or agreeing with the “other side”
Everything is a moral issue. When everything is made out to be a high-stakes issue or reflective of everyone as a person, it's easier for the leader(s) to manipulate you.
You find yourself excusing people’s behavior because you agree with their point. The way they bring their argument forward and the tone they use, become subordinate to finding out the truthTM
There is such a thing as The TruthTM in every theory, discussion or analysis
If you don't Get It, it's cause you haven't "worked on yourself enough". Or it's cause you're not trying hard enough, or you haven't done enough reading, or you have blind spots only they can see.
There is a lot of conspiratorial thinking – maybe actors are trying to send us secret messages, maybe there is a Whole Lot You Don’t Know But We Do, Trust Us, maybe this or that person in fandom has tried to attack us and are planning a bigger attack,…
You barely/don’t have fandom friends outside of this group and if you do, you tend to intentionally (whether subconsciously or not) hide your experience from them. They wouldn’t understand the way they talk, they wouldn’t understand the way it works etc
They want to know a lot of your personal information. - might only happen once you get into higher ranks
You might get (more and more) specific “tasks”, it starts becoming a part-time job instead of a hobby/fun space to hang out with friends
Of course, these red flags are not always immediately visible let alone advertised when you join a group chat/discord server/twitter or tumblr bubble. They can also be nonexistent at first and show up later. Here are some general ways to stay vigilant:
Periodically check in with your values, if they might be changing & how you feel about that.
Keep an eye on the way people (and yourself) are being treated. Is it kind? Is it fair? Do you feel on edge all the time when you’re having conversations? Is your body more tense when you’re in this online space or when certain people are around? Be honest with yourself here.
Ask yourself: Is this space becoming my only coping mechanism? Am I spending too much time here? There’s no shame in spending a lot of time on things you enjoy, but do check in with yourself sometimes whether you are actually still having fun and if you are taking things too seriously or parasocialising a lot.
There's a lot of fun to be had in fandom and a lot of good that comes out of it - don't forget that. Keep seeking that. It's why we're here!
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janus-cadet · 27 days
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This card is brighter than the one I usually do- might even be the most colorful of the whole deck, so far! Which- fitting. Today, let's welcome Charlie Morningstar and Vaggie, double figures for the Ten of Cups!
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(Now usually, the card also have one or two more people on it; I thought about adding Pentious, but our snake should have his card soon enough. Therefore, it's just the girls.)
Explanations under the cut, as well as a poll for the next card to draw, and the rest of the Hazbin tarot cards!
Upright, the Ten of Cups embodies happiness, joy, and emotional contentment. You have created an abundance of love and happiness in your life, and you now share this love with others, expanding your heart even more. This fits Charlie and what she created with her hotel, supported by Vaggie- together, they are the start of it all. You are now surronded by your loved ones (it's a fucking happy day in hell!), with whom you share a powerful and deep connection. You support one another, and you help other to reach their highest potential- on the path to redemption! Most of all, you do it because seeing others happy is the greatest joy you could have. It's the "happy family" card by excellence, as well as a positive card for romantic relationships- you're in a blissful one, if that's what you're looking for, to the point you may believe that you ar soulmates destined to be with one another (I do love them, mh, mh). When the card appears in your reading, it's time for you to take a step back, and appreciate everything you accomplished. You went through hard time, but look at that! You can do this, now we know it, and you actually did. Follow your heart, says the card, and follow your inner sens of Good.
Reversed, the card brings more subtility. You can see the Upright reading as mostly Charlie's idealistic view on the hotel and on redemption; but with the reversed Ten of Cups come the struggles. You may feel disconnected and disengaged from your loved ones, like your estranged father and your missing mother. You try to connect, but each times, something goes wrong, and the distance between you grows. Why does he forgets everything you say? Can't he pay attention? Why is he not calling more often? Or maybe you're afraid to trust, and you're keeping some secrets close to your chest. You don't open up enough, and you create, without meaning to, a distance with others, with her. You're too rash and too impulsive, but you mean well- surely, they can see that? It may have an impact on your relationship; you need to realise that nothing is perfect, and every relationship has its ups and downs. The Ten of Cups invite you to seek out a common ground with your loved ones, and rebuild the relationship from there. Talk to your father about why, exactly, he's so reluctant to help; talk to your partner about who you are, and where you came from. Open the lines of communication and be ready to hold space for one another. Be compassionate, understanding, and respectful. The card can also mean that you're starting to doubt yourself, and what you are doing. Is it really worth it? Are you up to the task? Are you letting other people down? You have to rethink those questions. Think about what makes you happy, what you believe in, and bring back your focus to that.
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And that's it for today! I'm planning to do at least three more Hazbin cards- if the fixation does not die by then. Not that it shows any sign of slowing down, oh boy- they are all so fun to draw, too!
Anyway.
And with that, Hazbin Hotel verse is the most represented fandom in my whole deck of cards, right before Doctor Who. Ah!
If you have read this far- well done. So proud of you. You win a peach cider, if you're even able to drink this abomination. And paf, the rest of the cards!
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1: Magic is a Metaphor < 2: Morgana is a Lesbian < 3: Merlin is Gay < 4: Arthur is Bi
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Do you remember when you were bullied in middle school? Because if you're reading this, I think it's fair to assume that you were. And your parents would say to you, 'that boy is just being mean to you because he likes you'. That's what this is.
Arthur is just so repressed. He has really bad daddy issues, and he doesn't know how to express his emotions, and he's really uncomfortable with physical intimacy, especially with other men, especially with Merlin. And this isn't me trying to psychoanalyse away his heterosexuality. It is a very evident part of his character.
And another big part of his character is that he has inherited all of these bigoted ideas about magic from his father that he has to work to overcome. Because, of course, Arthur himself is born of magic, but his dad is so ashamed of it that he hides the true circumstances of his birth from Arthur. Honestly, I don't know exactly how that would fit into this whole metaphor. I do have a half-formed theory that it could be interpreted as an allegory for intersex identity, I know that a lot of people headcanon Arthur as trans, so idk there could be something there. But regardless, it is only through his relationship with Merlin that he is able to overcome this magicphobia, because he realises: how could it be wrong when everything about Merlin is so right. And I just feel like there's a metaphor in there somewhere.
Of course, I have to mention this iconic quote from the audio commentary of the final episode: when the executive producer refers to Arthur taking off his royal seal to give back to Guinevere as passing over "the last vestige of his heterosexu- oh sorry, I mean his marriage." So, they knew exactly what they were doing.
I also thought I would just draw your attention to the fact that at one point Arthur says, "I only care about my men, they're more than friends, more than brothers." Now, I think we can all agree that out of context, that is a very gay thing to say, and yet somehow the context is even gayer, because Arthur is pretending to be talking about the Knights of the Round Table, but he's actually talking about Merlin, how Merlin is the only person he cares about, more than a friend. And then Merlin responds, "I understand. I wish I didn't, but I do." It's barely subtext at that point. This of course, brings me to my final argument:
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Arthur risked his life to save Merlin at least eight times. It could be more than that, I genuinely lost count. And you have to keep in mind that Arthur is the King of Camelot and he doesn't have any heirs. It is quite important that he stays alive. And yet anytime that Merlin is in the slightest bit of danger, he will just drop everything to protect him.
And it's really only in those moments where he's faced with the thought of losing Merlin that he shows him genuine emotion. Such as in this scene (which was cut out of 4x02 purely because it was too gay) where Arthur is planning to sacrifice himself to protect Merlin, again, and he gives Merlin his mother's sigil, the only thing he has left of his dead mum and he wants Merlin to have it as something to remember him by. Also, apparently in medieval times giving someone your family crest was basically a marriage proposal, so that's pretty gay.
You know what else is pretty gay? Telepathically communicating with Merlin and then immediately leaving Gwen in the middle of an active war. This is literally the last time that Arthur and Gwen ever see each other. Poor Gwen.
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In conclusion, Merlin is the story of gay sorcerers and bisexual knights getting into love triangles. Everyone in this show is queer and you cannot tell me otherwise.
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lightsofpandora · 1 year
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Na'vi language
Summary: You were the new "acquisition" of the Omaticaya clan, the tribe had found you lost in the forest (you had been separated from your group on a mission to save your life) and they decided to take you with them since they did not want to take any risks: you were human and they had to decide what to do to see if you were intended to be a threat or not. Now, you had been with the clan for a while and the Sully children were doing their best to help you learn more about their culture and even more, their language. But, not everything went the best way for two of them.
Word Count: 1591
Warning: All of them have the same age
Pairings: sully children x female!reader
A/N: Sorry if there is more than one mistake, English isn’t my first language and I am still learning it. It’s my first time writing an Avatar fanfic! However, I hope you enjoy it and have a good time, thanks for reading! (:
Neteyam
You two had established a good relationship since he discovered that you were not a threat, from that moment Neteyam wanted to get closer and help you understand those lands, their traditions and the history of the people, because he could see in your eyes that you were a beginner in everything related to that world of which you knew nothing; he was more than happy to give you a hand and help you in whatever was possible. At the beginning, Neteyam and you communicated through gestures, signs and short words in English that his father and brothers had taught him, but, like you, he still needed practice to be able to dominate a whole sentence in English. Neteyam had become one of your best friends in the clan, so when he found out that you were to be given lessons of Na'vi he was very excited because he knew how fast you were learning and you were going to be able to communicate in a "more natural way" soon, no more English words and phrases that he battled with constantly and struggled to understand. He was very excited to teach you.
"Look, here's the deal: I'll teach you our language and if you say one correct word after another, you'll teach me that complicated and difficult language of yours, is that okay? It'll be an easier way for us to communicate! Tsun oe ngahu niNa'vi pivängkxo a fi'u oeru plite' lu!"
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Lo’ak
Even when he knew you were not a threat to the clan, Lo'ak took much more time to trust and start a conversation with you because you were a human and he didn't know which side you were on, he barely knew you. The stories his parents had told him all his life about the RDA made him grow up with a feeling of constant alertness to any foreign movement, especially danger. He had learned to be distant and cold to those who were not part of his people or race, just as he was doing with you. However, as time went by, you showed him that you were friendly and had spent enough time in those lands to fall in love with every aspect and detail of Pandora, constantly trying to make him understand that not all humans were the same. Little by little, Lo'ak stopped being so defensive and began to approach you slowly, with "baby steps" (as his father would say) and the same way he got closer, it didn't take him long to fall in love with you almost instantly; a feeling that scared him at first and he tried to hide it as best he could, although, when he found out that you were to be taught to speak his language, he saw an opportunity to spend more time together even with his siblings around. He simply found it hard to take his eyes off you and even harder to accept that he was in love with a human. "You're doing great, y/n. Much better than us! Now, can you say tawtute?" he kept laughing with your pronunciation and the way you quickly managed to get frustrated, he found you really adorable.
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Spider
Like Loak, Spider was hesitant to make friends with you and show you his ways because, like the others, he also thought that you were part of the RDA and that this was just part of a plan. However, time proved him wrong and besides becoming friends, Spider's heart developed something much deeper. At the arrival of these new feelings, he felt insecure and somewhat nervous, but, he thought that at least, he had a better chance than Lo'ak since the guy didn't have the least idea of how to dissimulate and didn't think he knew the meaning of the word either. When he was assigned the task of teaching you new words, Spider stayed leaning against a tree with his arms crossed watching how the others did all the work, not because he didn't want to teach you himself but because he knew that the others had more experience and knew what they were doing. Anyway, he would say phrases that always managed to make you laugh: "You said it wrong, Lo'ak! y/n, he's teaching you wrong. Don't listen to him, please!" "I'm sorry I can't teach you myself, y/n. My pronunciation is a hell of a lot better than Lo'ak's but my accent is awful." Those kind of comments always generated a friendly fight between the two brothers and some branch used to hit the head of the Na'vi.
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Kiri
Unlike the two skxawng, Kiri was much more similar to Neteyam in many aspects; she was a very kind girl even when she was warned of your arrival, she was one of the first to defend you over the others by saying that she did not see you as a bad person. She was also very curious, so she went to meet you behind Jake and Neytiri's back to find out where you came from, who you were and what you were looking for in those lands. It didn't take long for the two of you to form a strong bond. But, at that moment, Kiri was worried because neither Lo'ak or Spider were teaching you useful words with which you could learn to communicate. All they were doing was laughing and being silly in front of you; on one hand, Spider wanted to teach you jokes and funny words so that you would "make good friends" while on the other hand, Lo'ak was determined to teach you how to say phrases like: "I love you", "Do you want to be my boyfriend?", "You are a cute boy" and some swear words; they were not teaching you anything at all. For this very reason and refusing to do nothing but watch, Kiri went looking for Jake.
"What's wrong, kiddo? is everything all okay?"
"They're not teaching her anything they should! Spider and Lo'ak are messing around and y/n is playing along with their joke simply because she doesn't understand what they're saying! She' s trying so hard to learn, but they're not helping!"
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———————————————————————————
Hearing her words, Jake covered his face with his hands and let out a sigh, frustrated. He knew it wasn't a good idea to put two rowdy teenagers next to y/n, the way he saw it, they looked like two monkeys trying to get attention and it was a trait that always stood out to them.
"They're flirting with her, aren't they? little bastards!"
"Spider yes but Lo'ak... he's not doing very well, he doesn't know how to dissimulate, he's terrible, daddy." answered the youngest of the family, Tuktirey, who at saying those words frowned and played with a plant, not entirely sure of the meaning of her words.
Jake was guided by his two daughters to the place and observed the two young boys with a very negative look on his face. Then, he shouted something to them in his native language so that y/n would understand perfectly and, he hoped that it would have an effect on one of them:
"Hey, both of you! Stop acting like lovesick monkeys and do what I told you! You'll have the rest of the day to teach her romantic lines and anything you want. Damn it!"
And to his good luck, they did. Both, Lo'ak and Spider turned red as a tomato and shrugged their shoulders in embarrassment, unable to look at y/n or say a word. Neteyam let out a big laugh when he saw the expression of both and then thanked his father with a nod of his head, very different from Spider and Lo'ak, who didn't know whether to murder their father or their brother first.
Kiri and her little sister returned with the others, now ready to teach y/n the right way. However, the girl didn't want to return to her lessons without giving the two of them their revenge.
"So.... lovesick monkeys?"
The laughter that followed from the three girls and Neteyam was an embarrassing blow to the naughty ones, although deep down, perhaps, they deserved it. That would be a good story to tell later, but now they had to get on with their lessons, including Spider and Lo'ak who had already had their little secret found out.
"Can you say "Jake skxawng?" were the last words Lo'ak addressed to y/n with a fake smile before remaining silent for the rest of the lesson.
—lightsofpandora
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ms-demeanor · 1 year
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any tips for Adult Phone Calls? i've been putting some off and it's going to start costing me money if i don't Get It Together soon, but that pressure just makes it harder!! part of my issue is not knowing what The Script is and part of it is that i find real-time conversation as An Adult really daunting....
Yes!
Okay so a big part of my job is answering phone calls; I am a professional person who answers phone calls from people who would rather not have to call me and who are usually confused and upset by what is happening, which often has the potential to be expensive for them. It's a stressful call to make!
As a professional phone answerer, here are the things that help ME when people call:
Be able to describe the reason that you're calling and what you would like to do about it. This is a simple two-step giving basic background information and your desired outcome so that the person answering the phone can get the process started for you. Examples: "Hi, I'm a new patient referred by Doctor X; I'd like to make an appointment with Dr. Y." "Hi, I tried to use my credit card but it was rejected, I would like to know why." "Hi, I am calling about a late payment; I would like it removed from my record." "Hi, my sink is leaking and I'd like to schedule a visit for repair." "Hi, I think my computer has a virus, I'd like to bring it in to get checked out."
Call when you have some time. Don't call when you've only got five minutes to be on the phone, this could take a while and you will be less stressed if you call when you've got at least ten minutes to half an hour where you won't be interrupted. If you are less stressed, the person taking the call will be less stressed, and the whole process will work better.
Have any account/ticket/serial number/referral information handy. Pre-game the call in your head and think about any questions they might need to ask you, then gather the information they might need. Examples: If you're calling about something like a car or computer hardware, know the basics of make/model/age. If you're calling a financial institution or service provider, have your account number, verification information, etc. handy If you're calling a medical office you might want to have a list of medications as well as your insurance card available.
And here's some information that might make CALLERS more comfortable:
We're not mad at you for making the phone call; talking to you is our job. You're not bothering anyone or imposing on anyone's time. Please make the call instead of churning in panic for weeks or months; it's much easier to fix something or resolve an issue if it's addressed early than if you respond to it months down the line.
You can just say right off the bat that you're not sure about the call or that you don't know what's going on and you need help. You might want to say something like "Hi, I'm having an issue and I don't know the next steps to take to get it resolved; could you please help me?"
You can also just say something like "Hi, thanks for helping me; I'd like to let you know that I have a little trouble using the phone and may need to ask questions as we go or think for a second. Thanks for being patient with me, here's my issue."
There is like a zero percent chance that your call is going to be one of the more stressful things they do that day. The call is stressful for you, it is very routine for them, and they are used to everything from getting screamed at to trying to communicate in languages they don't speak to help callers.
Also: if you have not called this place before, feel free to call it with no plans to speak to anyone just to see how the phone system works. It may be an automated phone system and you can call and pre-navigate the options and take notes for when you're ready to call back, and you may be able to find out more of what the system will ask of you. If you get picked up by a person when you're not ready you can simply say "Oh, I'm sorry, I've got another call coming in, I'll call back, thank you" and hang up.
The Script for most Adult-type phone calls is "I am having X problem and I need help fixing it," and then requests for information and someone either providing a resolution for you issue or escalating it to the next step in the process.
It's hard to pre-plan a script without more details because some people you'll call will have a more difficult script than others (canceling cable, for instance, can be a hassle and there are people out there who have written specific instructions on how to do that) and some will be very easy (scheduling an appointment or opening an account can often be very simple!) but regardless of how difficult the specific script is you can ask for help along the way, and the process will be easier if you've done a little information gathering about your own needs/issues/desired resolution.
Good luck! Please don't let the phone scare you too much! People on the other end of the phone are usually quite happy to help.
If it's something really contentious like dealing with a collections agency, look up specific resource guides because that's where it pays to have a very specific idea in mind of how you're going to approach the problem.
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qqueenofhades · 10 months
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In light of OceangateGate, by show of hands, who still wants Elon Musk to send them to Mars?
I mean, this whole thing (like I kept saying in tags) is both grimly fascinating and utterly predictable. Because there's this whole culture that you could and should do absolutely anything anywhere on earth, if you're able to pay for it, and at the same time that the companies offering these experiences can do absolutely everything to cut corners and make profits while placing people in incredibly dangerous situations. Whether it's the mountain adventure companies who take tens of thousands of dollars to shunt total novices up Mount Everest, or this, it's just like... MAYBE YOU SHOULD NOT BE ABLE TO MAKE EVERYTHING INTO A HYPER-CAPITALIST COMMODITY JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE RICH AND/OR WANT TO TAKE MORE MONEY FROM RICH PEOPLE! MAYBE!
Within 48 hours of this story breaking, we have learned that:
The sub is not tested or certified by literally any regulatory agency, because "innovation can't wait for rules"
The sub is built of fucking camping store gear and a video game joystick, they did not pay for appropriately certified parts for the depths they wanted to go, and the company fired the guy who pointed it out, rather than dealing with any of the issues he raised
The CEO (one of those now missing on the sub) gave an interview talking about how "at some point, safety is just waste"
In 2018, a literal group of esteemed submersible experts wrote to this guy about how his plans were bad and he should feel bad; he ignored it
The sub does not have basic safety equipment, a readily available backup vehicle, an acoustic beacon, etc, and has gone missing several times before; it is only luck that they found it those times
You can't get out of the fucking thing by yourself even if it is on the surface
It used Elon Musk's Starlink satellites for communication and cited SpaceX as a private adventure tourism model (as noted, you know, the rockets that keep literally blowing up)
You have to sign an enormous waiver (after paying $250,000 a head) acknowledging this entire thing is completely unregulated and you may very well die
Which it looks like these poor schmucks either have or are soon going to, either by imploding instantly at great depth (the merciful option) or slowly suffocating in a freezing coffin in the dark (the absolute hell option)
Like?!?! How was this not COMPLETELY predictable?
And this happened WHILE THEY WERE GOING TO THE TITANIC
You know, the most famous case of Man vs. Nature technological hubris in history
I mean. This is the ultimate outcome and perfect encapsulation of the "no rules no regulations ever, everything including the most dangerous things are crassly commodified for money, everyone is an expert and/or experience is irrelevant, safety rules only exist to hamper innovation and disrupt The Free Market, costs should be cut on everything for more profits, and this should all continue regardless of the consequences or the impact on the other people then required to endanger themselves to rescue them" late-stage capitalist hellscape we are living in. And maybe I shouldn't have laughed, but uh, I laughed:
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bunnysbrainrot · 8 days
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Bourbon and Mead
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𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝟸 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 '𝚃𝚘𝚘 𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝' 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚒𝚗𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚢𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚘𝚣𝚒𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚐.
Relationship: Joel Miller x f!Reader, Jackson!AU
Content: Alcohol consumption, flirting, slow-burn tension, slow dancing with Joel, teasing, POV switch. Bear with me, folks, this'll be worth it.
Summary: It's been a busy first week in Jackson, but you're finally starting to feel at home. Even still, you haven't made many new connections, but hopefully tonight's big event can help. Despite your nerves, you go anyway, and see some familiar faces.
Word Count: 4,300+
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It had been just under a week since your patrol with Joel and his group, and you're settling in rather well. For such a shabby spot, you have decorated your living space impressively, and it settles something in you. After so long, you're really starting to have a place to call home.
Knock, knock, knock.
The noise shakes you out of a stupor, and you make your way to the heavy wooden door, and tug it open to reveal a friendly face, Maria.
You've had little chance to interact with new people since arriving in Jackson - when you're working as a community this directly, a hell of a lot of work goes into it. Which means, everyone's busy. Just about constantly. That being said, outside of your own room, Maria has been your only companion.
She can sense your loneliness, too, but she hasn't let on. The last thing you needed was the pressure of making a name of yourself in the first few days, so she had kept you busy with chores, patrols, hunts, you name it. To her, that plan would help you adjust to how Jackson functioned as a whole, so you could have the foundation of being a community member, to get your bearings.
Her smile is bright as she speaks, "Hey, sweetheart, just wanted to let y'know about the dance happening tonight. If you're feeling up for it, you should stop by."
The offer erupts a warmth in your chest.
"The dance?" You ask eagerly.
Maria nods, "Used to call it a square dance, but not enough folks know how to, so it's more of a get-together now, but we'll have music, drinks, the whole nine."
It doesn't take long for you to choose your answer. You cheerfully tell Maria, "That sounds wonderful. Where is it, and when does it start?"
She starts to describe the layout of the nearby buildings to the dance, waving her hands in front of her methodically, "But trust me, you won't be able to miss it. Just follow the music." Maria ends her sentence with a wink.
"What do I wear?"
There's a beat as she looks you over, and past your shoulder to your chest of drawers, which she helped stock when you first arrived.
Maria waves a hand dismissively as she replies, "Some people take the chance to dress up, some people dress down. You do whatever you're comfortable with, honey."
You flash her a grateful smile, and she issues a small goodbye before walking off.
---
A good few hours buffers you before the dance. The optional dance, but something in you will stop at nothing to go. You need to see people, have some laughs, live a little.
You take your sweet time getting ready, too. Some downtime is well deserved and rare, but it gives you the perfect window of time - debating on your outfit takes the longest. You opt for a casual hairdo, one that won't get your neck all hot and sweaty once you start dancing. The watch on your left wrist reads 6:47 PM up at you.
Whooping voices can be heard outside your window as people saunter down the street, toward the festivities, you assume. You sneak a peek through the curtains, eyeing a gaggle of townsfolk laughing alongside one another. Their eyes are bright, voices uplifted and loud. The men clap each other on the shoulder aggressively, while the women jab each other in the sides with their elbows. There wasn't much to make out, but whatever they were joking about had them roaring with laughter.
Seeing the crowd inspires you to make way out the door. You ensure all your lights are off, save for your nightstand lamp to come back to an inviting space. A deep breath later, and you were out the door, too.
There's a new feeling in the air, and you can place it precisely. Upbeat music plays far down the small Jackson streets, but its effects are widespread. All around, the other residents beam brightly as they go about the evening. Most people nearest you exchange small 'hello's' and wave politely, others still smile your way. Tightness wells in your chest as you realize just how long it had been since you'd seen so many friendly faces.
The music's volume eventually blares as you near the open area for the dance. The weather proves to be fair enough to host the event outside, so rows of string lights hang between nearby poles and sides of buildings. In the back of the venue is a group of people wielding a variety of instruments, nodding and bouncing with the quick beat of what you knew as bluegrass music.
"Hey, look who's here!" A voice calls out. You glance around until you realize the call was for your attention. You turn to the voice and recognize the woman from last week's patrol, who'd given you the rundown of who your partners were.
You greet her in return before registering the rest of the group. A few of them could be familiar around town, but for the most part, new faces.
Except for one.
Joel's eyes aren't on yours when you find him in the group. He's looking to one of the men, seemingly in a deep conversation. Perhaps he could feel your eyes on him, because his eyes flicker to yours for a split second. He pauses, lets his conversation partner speak, while he gives you a polite nod, before turning back to the man.
The fluttering in your gut was a dead giveaway, this is why you wanted to come. The prospect of seeing Joel again was exciting, but usually slim. And here he was. If only he could just move on from his conversation...
A hand lands on your arm comfortingly. The kind woman tells you, "It's so good to see you again! How have you been settling in?"
There's a twinge of an accent in her words, Southern, but more subtle. Her words are as soft as a hug.
"It's been going alright, finally getting to decorating," you start. The woman listens. Wait... did she ever introduce herself? Shit. How were you supposed to see someone this much without knowing their name?
"That was the best part when I got here. Once I had my space set up, it really felt like home," she replies.
There's a beat of silence between you, and it breaks when you ask, "I'm sorry if this is awkward, but I never got your name the first time we met." You briefly introduce yourself before she replies.
Her eyes crinkle when she smiles, "I'm Cara. I never introduced myself, but I wanted you to have at least be one friendly face here."
"I'm thankful for it, I really am. It feels better now that we have names to the faces," you offer with a nervous smile.
Cara looks at you mischievously, softly grabbing your bicep, "Let's get a drink. Whaddya say?"
That kind offer melts your anxiety away, and all that's left is you, Cara, and the joy of sharing a drink with a friend. In moments, you have a glass of homemade mead in your hand.
Someone else from the group calls Cara over, so for a moment you're left alone with your cup of fermented honey goodness. It's sweet, slightly bitter, but leaves your stomach feeling warm as it settles. The burn in your throat is numbed by the warmth in your belly. You make it back to Cara's group and decided to strike up conversation with those folks, thinking that it'd be a good place to start.
The first few conversations are long - a flurry of questions about your background, your journey out to Jackson, and how you've been adjusting to the move. You learn some basics about some of them, but there's a distraction lingering in the back of your mind.
Joel.
A few people in the group break away to leave for the dance floor, the jovial music beckoning them ever closer. You don't follow immediately, which leaves you with a few stragglers, and him.
For the first time in days, you hear his voice again, "What'd you get?"
The question snaps you to attention, looking down into your glass. You glance back up at him and motion with the cup with a swish, "Some mead, I think. Pretty good."
He nods, "Pete makes some damn good mead, 'specially if it's for a party. Pulls out the good stuff."
Part of you wonders if his lighthearted talking is to make up for the blunder on last week's patrol, to ease the embarrassment you still held from it.
"What's in your cup?" You retort.
"Usually it's bourbon, but tonight, it's beer," he replies with a gaze into his own cup. He copies your motion and swirls the cup a few times. A bit of the foamy liquid sloshes out and onto the dirt in front of your, nicer, combat boots. Some of the beer spatters onto your feet and into the dirt.
"Damn, maybe they should cut me off," Joel jokes, reaching into his back pocket and revealing a handkerchief, holding it out to you. "Sorry 'bout that."
You take the cloth, "Making a mess of the place already, and it's not even eight o'clock yet, impressive."
The joke seems to land with Joel; you can tell by the way the corners of his eyes tighten.
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Joel
What you say makes him chuckle. It's rare to find someone with a sense of humor these days. That kind of fresh attitude can bring a lot of life in a world like this, especially around here, especially after the loss these people have felt.
New folks were few and far between, given how desolate Jackson had become since the world fell to shit, but there was a wind of change when you arrived last week. Joel could tell from the second he saw you on patrol, even trotting ahead of the group at one point. The light in your eyes when you awed at the mountains tugged at his heartstrings. A type of longing for that kind of simple joy. To be young, without most of his hardships, seeing new parts of the world, even though it had shrunk.
On the patrol, you had gotten too far ahead, in line with Joel in the lead, and you knew it wasn't your place, but you hadn't shied away from him. In fact, you had embraced it, and listened keenly when Joel advised you keep your distance. Normally it'd feel like taming an unruly child, but you had a certain curiosity in your eyes, you were eager to learn.
Joel knows how harsh he can be, let alone to new faces. The worry of how that attitude rubs off on people subsided decades ago - one could say that Joel has truly embraced that 'grouchy old man' stereotype. That attitude has saved his ass more times than he could count, and has kept him safe after all these years. But, there's an unavoidable weight when it comes to hardening yourself up as much as Joel has. It's a truth that he's been evading for years. You make yourself untouchable, but you forget how much you need someone else.
Even so, it's easier that way. You keep losses to a minimum as long as you're not attached. Living that way had gotten him this far.
But now you stand in front of him, with beer-splattered boots and a kind smile despite your new shoes being soiled. You take his handkerchief and bend down to clean your shoes, and hand the cloth back to Joel. His fingers brush against yours when he takes it back - yours are delicately soft against his calloused ones, and it takes him by surprise.
In that split second, Joel's eyes search your face for any change, to see if you freeze like he does, to see if your breath hitches like his did, for any sign that this isn't just some fluke.
It could be a trick of the light, but Joel swears there's a new redness in your cheeks. When you look at him next, it's with bright, innocent eyes, a type of innocence Joel would surely ruin.
"Thank you, Joel," you say softly. His name on your lips is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, it's almost sickening.
Joel clears his throat and gives you a nod, "It's the least I can do."
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The sun is dipping behind the mountains, streaking the sky with glorious pink hues against the emerging stars of dusk. A fiddle lilts happily as the song picks up pace, the tune itself serving as an invitation to get yourself moving. In the distance, Cara flashes you a wide smile, and waves a beckoning hand over to her gaggle of folks. You can barely make out her words as she mouths them.
"Let's dance!"
Joel notices your distraction, looking back at Cara trying to whisk you onto the dance floor. There's a good number of people breaking into a flurry of moves, all whooping and laughing as they pass one another. Joel looks back to you, the softness that was there before is seeming to dissipate. His face is hardened again, resigned.
"Guess I'm being stolen away," you say.
"Be careful," Joel replies, "Carried Away Cara doesn't let up. You'll be dancing for hours."
You comment, "Didn't know I signed up for that kind of night."
You've reached the group by now, and Cara is already handing you another glass of mead, and a huge smile to go along with it.
----
You're onto drink number four, you think, and the sky has shifted from a pale pink to a deep indigo, littered with bright stars and a beautiful crescent moon. It seems like the music has blurred together without beginning or end, and your boozy haze doesn't reveal any tiredness, so you keep dancing. Joel was right, Cara's had you dancing for what feels like hours at this point. But damn, did she know how to party.
The song the group's playing begins to slow down, and part of the crowd disperses away. Chattering can be overheard amidst the quieting music. You place a mostly-empty glass onto a nearby picnic table and look around the venue. Folks pass you by with a pep in their step, their faces flushed red from alcohol and relentless dancing.
A breath of fresh air wafts through the venue, rustling through your hair that had tacked with sweat to the nape of your neck. You smile from the sensation, relishing in the cool air across your hot skin. Shit, what time is it?
Your watch beams 10:13 PM back up at you.
Damn, where did all that time go?
The night has given you a rush of adrenaline you haven't found in what feels like months. Something about this dance is erupting a sense of joy you were sure you'd never feel again. Laughter, dancing, good people. Such simple things really do lift the spirits.
You can feel a pointed stare at you off to the side, but do you dare look? Of course you do - it's not like the mead is letting you act composed. Being as subtle as you can muster in your state, you glance to the side, where that looming sense had come from. Far off, leaning against a tall wooden fence, is Joel.
While he had practically ignored you when you'd first seen him tonight, he can't take his eyes off of you in this moment. Your heart skips a beat when he holds the stare, his deep brown eyes never leave yours, even as other partygoers pass between you. It's as if the world had paused, but perhaps just for you, frozen under Joel's gaze, the sole subject of his attention.
He stands alone on the side. No one to interrupt you if you go over...
Before you decide, you wave and smile. A silly drunken grin you'd normally hide. Right now, with his focus only on you, is the most alive you've felt in months. The high of it creeps up from behind, whispering encouragement in the form of a dare. Go up to him.
Your legs make the journey before you register what's happening; your body suddenly has a mind of its own, no way to back down now.
The narrowing distance from Joel pushes your heart to your throat. While your legs carry you smoothly, your senses are turned upside down. The anxiety you have about Joel is nothing but a distant memory. Tonight, you'd overcome your nervousness.
"Not much of a dancer, hm?" You call to him over the music.
A small smile spreads across his lips, "With these knees, I'm lucky to do a damn foxtrot. Someone out there was having the time of their life, though."
He truly has a gift. The moment he speaks, everything else seems to disappear. God, you'd ask him question after question just to hear that voice - deep and gravelly, but the accent is thick and sweet like molasses. A slip of your imagination has you wandering into uncharted territory. Imagine a "baby" or "honey" or "sweetheart" in that voice... Your mind vacates long enough for Joel to arch an eyebrow at you, and you're immediately brought back down to earth.
"I don't know how I went dancing for that long," you exhale.
Joel shakes his head with a chuckle, "You'll get some damn good sleep, that's for sure."
It'd be better if you were sleeping with me.
The unfiltered thought jolts through you, snapping you back to attention. Maybe the mead was making you a little too confident.
Behind you both, the music group's slow beat has pulled folks into a smooth rhythm. The dance floor littered with small groups and couples as the song continued. This new intimate energy could not have been timed any worse. You took a big breath and let it out slowly.
"It's getting late, I should probably head home."
Joel pauses, looking toward the band, then down into a cup of amber-brown liquid. Maybe he resorted back to his usual bourbon.
You follow suit and watch the band play on. A tug in your chest begs you not to go, not yet.
"Think you got time for one last go?" His question snaps your head to him. There's a new spark in his eyes, a softer glint amidst the chocolate brown.
Your answer is immediate, breathless, "Of course."
Anything. Anything for him.
As long as it reveals a glimpse of the man underneath the tough shell. It's still in him.
Joel extends his hand, palm up, to take yours. You lay yours on top plainly, holding a breath at the sensation of your skin against his. It's not like before with the handkerchief. This time, it's intentional, he wants to touch you.
The way his fingers curl to hold your hand settled that debate. His touch is careful. It didn't take a genius to know how rough he could be, with those toned muscles shifting under his plaid shirt; in contrast, he held you with such delicacy, as if you'd break if he gripped too hard.
"You know how to dance at all?" Joel asks.
You bark a laugh, "With this many drinks in me? Highly doubt it."
Joel's laugh is louder this time around. You can actually make it out, and you can feel that it's genuine. "I warned you about Cara. Now I get a drunk dance partner."
"Hey, you asked me to dance. You don't get to give me shit for havin' a good time," your words slur together, proving Joel's point.
Amidst the crowd, Joel manages to find you two a nice spot with plenty of room. The surrounding couples look how you feel - entranced with their partners, focused and attentive, like the other person is the only one left in the world.
"How 'bout this? You lead me."
You freeze, "But, I-I don't know what to d-"
"Do what you want. I'll follow."
"And if I make a fool of myself?" You question.
His other hand migrates to your waist, holding you gently at your side, "The you better really sell it."
Your laugh is giddy. He lets you have room for mistakes. There's room to be human around him.
A deep exhale later, you place your hands on Joel's shoulders and begin to sway, a slow and steady pace with the beat of the song. Seems the mead has done its work of clouding your judgement - you're locked in the swaying motion.
"Is this okay?" You ask softly, finding Joel's eyes. There's a warmth in them you hadn't seen before.
He nods gently, "You lead the way, sweetheart. Don't worry about me."
Who'd have known that a single word could melt you completely. Your mind instantly hooks on it, cycles it in your mind as if to brand it into your memory.
Sweetheart.
Your smile is instant, but feels like one of those sloppy, stupid drunk grins that reveal how not-yourself you are at the words.
And so, you sway. As promised, Joel follows right along.
He shifts closer, readjusting the hold on your waist, spanning his fingers along the small of your back. A polite caress, not meandering and wandering around like most drunk men you'd encountered. Joel can keep his hands to himself. Joel has manners. Joel has self-control.
There's a lead to follow with his movements, you discover. It does feel more natural to wrap your arms around his neck like this...
In a swift moment you've melted into him, and with it, your nerves.
You also find that it's far more comfortable to rest your head on his chest. A beat later, your senses return, and you raise yourself back into standing position, realizing the crossed boundary.
"Gettin' tired already?" Joel asks bemusedly.
Maybe he didn't catch it. Thank goodness.
"You're basically rocking me to sleep here," you quip back.
Joel reminds you, "You're the one leading us."
You roll your eyes as you shake your head, bringing a laugh from him again. The sound of it lights you up from inside, flipping your stomach. You'd already learned that that sound was rare.
"Some dance partner I am," you say sarcastically. Joel's smile broadens, and the hand on your back shifts. His thumb idly sweeps across your spine.
Somehow, your arms are back around his neck, and your head is against his chest, all without protest. Joel's thumb still caresses your back as a sign. The song in the background changes to something simpler, with fewer instruments, giving highlight to a slow solo from the fiddle player.
"You're right, I think I'm gonna sleep like a log tonight," you murmur.
Joel's chuckle vibrates against your cheek. The huff of his laugh gives you a whiff of bourbon, sickly sweet and smoky, blending in with his deeper woodsy scent.
"You gotta be more careful next time," his voice slows. "We'll get some water in ya, help fight that hangover tomorrow."
You nod against him, smiling broadly, knowing that you're in good hands. Your words come out sheepishly, "I'm sorry I got so drunk. I... didn't think you'd see me like this."
A gentle squeeze on your side.
Joel's breath skirts across your neck when he mutters, "You think I'm gonna blame you for havin' a good time?"
His lips graze the shell of your ear as he speaks, and his words have a secrecy to them, an intimacy you hadn't seen from him before. You pay attention to the feel of his lips on your skin - they're soft and gentle, but know where to drag along in all the right places.
It's enough to leave your knees wobbling in your drunken stupor, high purely off of his touch, head spinning as you search for a new sensation.
"It has been pretty fun," you reply between trembling breaths.
There's a subtle brush of lips against your neck when he speaks, "I'd say I'm havin' a pretty good time."
Your knees practically buckle beneath you.
The rush of it all has you pulled back from him now, staring at him with surprised eyes. It's not that you didn't enjoy or accept that move, just that quickly, in front of so many people...
Joel's look shifts to something of embarrassment, "Maybe I've had a lil' too much."
You let out a nervous laugh, "I think I'm right there with you, I... I'm sorry."
He doesn't ask what the apology is for. He knows exactly which line was crossed. The hardened look returning to his eyes tells you that this moment of bliss is coming to an end.
"You don't got anything to be sorry for," the thick Texas accent is palpable in his reassurance. "I'm bein' a fool."
A fool. For doing this.
Hopefully he can't see the way that word breaks you. You force a bigger smile, a dismissive one that says 'we can just forget this ever happened', with a wave of a hand.
You offer, "Like you said, just having a good time."
His smile is wry. There's something unreadable in his expression.
Nonetheless, his grip of your waist loosens, releasing you as the fiddle in the background song comes to a silent end. Something akin to tension hangs in the air between you, pulled taught like a string to be severed.
"Well, I won't keep ya any longer. I... appreciate the dance. I know you're probably itchin' to get back in bed, so..." Joel says, trailing off, pressing his lips into a thin line.
You nod, collecting yourself, "Y-Yeah, probably good to get some sleep soon. You, too."
Joel smiles again, but his heart isn't in it like before.
He gives you a quick pat on the shoulder, eyes averted, "Get home safe, alright?"
Before you can wish him the same, he's lost amidst the crowd.
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Hello, my sweethearts! So glad to be developing this story more, and I hope you've been enjoying so far! If you'd like, vote in the poll below for how'd you like to see this story develop (if you catch my drift)
As always, thank you so much for your support. And if you're new, it's nice to meet you! Love you all!
-Bunny
{all banners/dividers are from cafekistune on Tumblr}
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bk-4-trash-fire · 4 months
Text
Robot creator part twoooooooo
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Okokokok is I want to say this again for people who don't know
I am an artist, not a writer, so apologies if most of this series and the other one will make no sense and have bad grammar
But anyways enjoy
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Plugging in the black rectangle onto you desk that you later found out was called a "tablet"
You were a scavenger of some sort
Taking anything that brought you interest, that or anything that can be taken apart
You and doc were always exchanging random things for both of y'all benefit
For you cuz what doc had looked cool
For doc cuz most of the random items you had could be used for future projects
But this table would be something only for you
That and the body pillow you found and later have hidden under you bed
Probably for the best no one sees it
You then hear a chime coming from the tablet
Seeing it come to life is incredible
You will soon witness a relic of the flesh beings work
Momo is gonna be sooooo jealous
And so you planned on showing all your friends your discovery
What's the worst that can happen?
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Have the gang all together waiting for their (basically) little sibling to show off their new trinket
Even zbaltazar was there in a wheelchair clementine found for him
"so this will give us new knowledge of the flesh beings life before us?" You heard doc question
"exactly! This is said to have the ability to help entertain flesh beings and be able to communicate with other flesh beings!"
"You've made your point, now show us this cool new technology you're praising" momo chirped and giddily sat up to see this device
As you turned on the tablet you noticed it started to shake
It scared you enough to drop the thing onto the table
It started a small before it quickly started violently moving off the table from the shaking
Soon the screen began cracking with the light from the tablet becoming blinding
Soon the whole room was engulfed in the light
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For a while genshin sat dormant for the MANY years their creator was gone
For awhile the people were filled with grief
Not knowing if this is some sort of punishment or if something horrible happened to their creator
Not like they could do anything
Their only proper way of communicating with them (mail) was getting no response
All the greatest minds in teyvat were at it for weeks making a machine powerful enough to bring back the creator
All it needed was a spark
Confirmation that the creator was somewhere alive.
Today was like any other albedo
Checking up on experiments
Checking on the machine
On look it working....
.....
Wait..
HOLY FUCK IT'S WORKING
Within moments albedo is sweating bullets and covering his ear from the sound of the gears
The sheer sound was probably enough for a person to go deaf
The ground shoke form the machine working it's magic
Finally after all this time
They had found them
Soon the machine comes to a dead stop
Soon a creeping silence as albedo makes his way to what is the door to let his god back to their world
What he expects is to see someone magnificent, unexplainable beauty.
But what greets him is 5 mechanical humanoids
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That's it for now let me know how ya feel about this chapter :]
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lazyjellyfish300 · 5 months
Text
As You Slept...🌘 (Twilight x Miguel O'Hara)
AU Reader Swan x Miguel O'Hara as Edward Cullen
Synopsis: you're technically Bella Swan, or Y/N Swan (the language I use implies female but could be non-binary). He's the brooding and handsome Miguel Cullen in your Bio class at the community college. Snippets of three nights where he watches you while you sleep.
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**gif credits to dinosaurs-tho and gebo4482**
T/W: Voyeurism, stalkerish behavior, sensuality, suggestive content, mention of 🤮 for any emetophobes.
Miguel is so Edward coded. He was literally made for Twilight, idc what anyone says! Probably why I'm so obsessed with him. The moodiness, the protectiveness, actually his whole personality. It's definitely the fangs, too. It's just perfect! Just kind of a drabble with some sensuality and suggestive content. This might be my new brand now. 🧛🏾🖤🍎🍷🐀
----
"In the state of Washington, under a near constant cover of clouds and rain, there is a small town named Forks. Population: 3120 people."-Stephanie Meyer
You planned to confront him. The impossibly beautiful yet mysterious guy in your Bio class, and demand to know what his problem was. A look of utter disgust shot across his face as he clutched a hand to his mouth, as though he was trying to hold back vomit. You stared back at him dumbfounded. You couldn't figure out what you possibly could have done to offend him when you hadn't said one word to him. His fingers clenched in a fist as he stiffly pushed the microbe samples and equipment towards you as if you had the plague. He looked like he wanted to kill you, his eyes obsidian. 
This went on for days. After the fourth day you couldn't take it anymore. You just wanted the physical science credit on your transcript and to be done with it. The least he could do was half pretend like you weren't so insufferable. You walked in the classroom, florescent lights clashed against the moody blue-green background of Forks hanging in the windows but the laboratory table you two shared was empty. He never showed. 
You glanced at the table in the cafeteria where he and his siblings would sit and it remained empty. The next day, you decided to wait in the parking lot. Miguel's younger, burly brother Emmett was standing nonchalantly in his uncovered Jeep Wrangler as his statuesque, blonde wife Rosalie drove it, with Miguel nowhere to be seen. After a few more days of being a no show, you decided to try and put him out of your mind. 
One night, you're sitting on your bed in your bedroom fiddling with a pencil in your mouth, trying to get some homework done while your erratic mother is on speakerphone, pleading with you to come live with her and her new husband in Jacksonville. As soon as you finally get her to let you go, you sigh and feel your eyelids getting heavy. This assignment can wait until tomorrow. You were getting a head start on it anyways. 
--that night-- 
Miguel ran quickly along the forest floor, on his way home from a hunt. His hunger satisfied, temporarily at least. His irises restored to their red color. Suddenly, he remembers you. 
Y/N needs me. 
He makes a detour and leaps into the trees, using your scent as a compass. Being able to cover a vast area alone on foot was one of the few things that kept him sane. To soar above the evergreens and white fog  to perilous heights and be able to access breathtaking views that a normal person could only dream of. It helped him feel alive, as though he was a human again despite his heart that stood still in his chest. This would be the third night he visited you. 
---time jump backwards to the first night---
The first night he visited you was the same day that he first saw you in bio class. He decided to visit your house that night anyway despite his better judgement. He couldn't help it. He felt drawn to you, as though something magnetic had a hold on him. He followed your scent. That was the main thing that attracted him so much to you in the first place. A smell so intoxicating and a spell so strong he dug in his heels, and unfortunately it physically manifested itself as an apparent hatred of you. But he didn't hate you. 
He arrives at your house and glides open the closed window with a cold, strong hand and enters your room without making a sound. He stands in one spot and looks around. There is no light in your room except for the golden string lights adorning the light mossy green walls. It creates a cozy warm glow around its inhabitant: you. 
Your bed is in the middle of the room. You're buried underneath a dark purple comforter, your chest rising and falling as quiet breaths escape you. Miguel just stands there and watches you for a bit. Suddenly, you reposition so you're on your back with your head turned to the side, a vein in your neck exposes itself. Miguel's jaw tenses in an iron grit. It was a lot harder to be near you like this than he originally thought. You stir, and it becomes more apparent that you're having an unpleasant dream. You raise your hand and place it on the pillow next to your head, palm up with your delicate fingers relaxed. You start to squirm as though you're being pushed backwards into the bed. Miguel realizes you're dreaming about him drinking your blood. You're in the exact position he would have you in to do it, too.
Then, in nanoseconds, Miguel senses your awakening and he's already gone by the time your eyelids flutter open in a cold sweat. You could have sworn you saw him standing there in your room. Bold muscles protruding underneath a tight black t-shirt, pitch black eyes on you as you slept. You turn on your lamp only to see nothing there. You scoff and shake your head incredulously as you sit up. That was the first night you dreamt of Miguel Cullen. 
----the second night----
The second night Miguel visited you while you slept was the very next night. His hunger still unresolved and eyes obsidian. He couldn't figure out why he tortured himself like this. You were so frustrating. He couldn't read your thoughts. But maybe that's why you were so enticing to him. You made him feel a certain way nobody else did in the now one hundred years he's existed for. You made him feel alive again because he was forced to get to know you, to study you. Just like any other human suitor would've had to do to in order to woo his lady and capture her heart. He loved the thrill of the chase. He felt a pang of guilt at his actions, though. You were unaware that he was doing this. You had no clue the mysterious angsty stranger from Bio class was watching you sleep every night. He didn't even know if you would want him as much as he wanted you. 
He justified it irrationally. You needed him. You needed his protection. He heard the thoughts going through the minds of the guys at college. Forks was a small town and guys acted like they had never been around a member of the opposite sex before since Y/N moved in. He promised himself he'd shatter the jaw of that fucking Newton kid if he heard him fantasizing about pulling down the straps of your bra ever again. 
As he watches you sleep now, he watches your chest rise and fall. Sometimes he counts the number of seconds in between each one. He does this for hours but it only feels like moments passed to him. He decides to get closer this time. As he leans over you, his eyes scan over you, longingly. The valley of your hips, your soft belly, the way your grey leggings gripped your thighs, your breasts squished together in your purple cami. All he wants to do is touch you now.  He so desperately wished he could hear what you were thinking, see what you were dreaming about.
"You have no idea how precious and important you are to me, yet. Even though you don't know we're sharing this moment together, I know you are in your dreams," He thinks.
As if he could project his thoughts onto you, you were in fact dreaming of you and Miguel together again this time. The scene is outdoors, white with snow. Snowflakes are frosting your eyelashes and his dark messy hair. His strong tan arms are wrapped around your chest. You're holding onto his arms with your hands, your head turned to the side, leaning backwards into him. Your eyes are closed and his eyes are open. His gorgeous face looking at you with desire, the amount of devotion can't be contained in red irises that are peering into your soul.
A song gently plays:
"I was damned by the light coming out of her eyes
She spoke with a voice that disrupted the sky
She said "Walk on over yeah to the bit of shade
I will wrap you in my arms and you'll know you've been saved"
Let me sign, let me sign"🎵
---time jump to the present, the third night---
Miguel arrives in your room. He's much more confident in his ability to maintain his composure this time. His hunger absolved, temporarily at least. A random deer can't compare to the liquid gold that ran through your veins. He planned to see you again in class later the next morning since that first day and re- introduce himself properly..make it up to you when he treated you so poorly. 
He decides to look around your room. He picks up the novel you're reading and scans through it. He picks up the pictures of you with your parents and wonders where they were taken. He smiles at your childhood photos, at the adorable kid you were and wonders what your personality was like back then. He runs his fingers along the trinkets that lined your shelves. Crafts from summer camps long since passed, souvenirs from family vacations. A snow globe from the Phoenix Zoo. He looks through your jewelry, examining the moonstone ring you liked to wear on your index finger on your right hand. He suddenly thinks of his mother's wedding ring and how it would look on your ring finger. One day, you'd be able to wear the evidence of your belonging to him for the whole world to see. He smells your clothes, basking in their scent, imagining you pressed up against him. He looks defeated at your sleeping figure and realizes that holding your clothes simply isn't enough. 
He wants to try something new and he prays it'll work without waking you up. He approaches your bed and gets on it, the bed creaking slightly under his bodyweight. He scoots closer to you, your back still to him. Carefully, he places an arm around you, spooning your body, still using the comforter as a barrier between his arm and yours. He knows his skin is cold enough to wake you. He gently gently lowers his hand towards your cheek, the microscopic hairs on your cheek raising ever so slightly at the cold temperature being emitted off his skin. He lowers it, his knuckles gracing your cheek. You rise for a moment in your sleep and then relax. He smiles with relief. For once, he's not a vampire. Not a killer. He's not just existing passively in a world that changed constantly while he remained chained in place. Now he's finally just a man. A man in bed holding his love. He stays in this position for hours, watching over you. 
The sunlight begins to creep into the open window and Miguel's brown skin begins to sparkle. He curses the morning, hating the thought of needing to be ripped away from you for any amount of time. He remembers you like to drink coffee when you wake up. He uses his inhuman speed to run downstairs and prepare a pot for you, placing your mug and favorite spoon on the counter. The smell of brewing coffee begins to flow upstairs, causing you to stir. Miguel comes back in your room. He takes the hydro flask from your nightstand table, smiling at the worn stickers adorning it and fills it up for you. He leans in, nuzzling his nose in your hair.
I love you I love you I love you. I'll see you very soon, my love. 
Right on queue, your eyelids flutter open but he's already gone again, a cold chill left behind. 
"And so, the lion fell in love with the lamb."
-----
I went through hell to type this all up from scratch a second time after I deleted it on accident 😭😭 it's def not as good at the first version but I hope you enjoy! Miguel Cullen foreva 🧛🏾🖤
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likedovesinthewindd · 11 months
Note
Heeeyyy I really love your stories!! <3 can I request hobie being a runway model and reader being fashion designer for him. I been thinking about the fact he said he was briefly a runway model and I can’t get it out my head. I dunno what direction you’d want to take the story in if u wrote it but im pretty sure I’d b great! :) (sorry about the vagueness)
hi babes, thank you soo much you're so sweet:')) also so sorry this took so long!!
hobie brown x reader
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warning: mention of pins/needles
wc: ±1100
a/n: don't really like how this came out might rewrite it later on. not fully proofread.
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You didn't consider yourself any Westwood or McQueen just yet, but even the best had to start somewhere, right? It just so happened that your "somewhere" would be the old community hall in your neighborhood. This would be your very first fashion show, not something you took very lightly. This could make or break your almost nonexistent career, so it was important that everything was absolutely perfect.
Planning this had been an absolute pain; trying to find an affordable venue that wasn't on the verge of complete degradation, finding a way to decorate said venue accordingly, promoting and hunting for possible columnists and other industry players to invite, along with a million other things.
One of the most important aspects were models; the people who ultimately would be representing your brand. The only problem was that you didn't have money to hire any people, much less approach an agency, so you had to get creative. You had held "auditions" in your neighborhood; basically asking your friends and other people if they'd like to model for you.
You were upfront, admitting that you would not be able to pay them properly. People were reluctant at first; the idea of no compensation turning some away, but after a few days you managed to find and recruit a handful of people to help you, most of them being friends and people you knew from scool. Things were looking good, and your project was on the right tracks so far.
You were running around in your apartment-turned-studio, frantically searching for the tracing wheel you had lost once again, when you heard a knock on your door. You opened it to find a tall and lanky young man, hands in the pockets of his jacket. "Heard you're looking for models," was all he said in a low deep voice and you raised your brows. "Y'know I can't pay you right?" you said, and he nodded in reply. "Long as the clothes look good I don't care," he said.
After first glance, you already knew he'd be a showstopper. He just looked perfect for a runway; you could already imagine the way your pieces would fit him. That's how you had met Hobie, how you gained a model, a muse, aswell as a friend.
✴︎.˳⁺⁎˚。⋆
It still shocked you just how much you've managed to pull off in these few months leading up to the big event. The whole thing had been one big family-friend initiative; everyone stepping in to help where they can.
Your old roomate, who worked at a hair salon had asked her colleagues to help with doing every model's hair. She had a friend who worked as a beautician in a salon, who had asked her colleagues to help with everyone's make-up. The choreographer had been your aunt, courtesy of her "certified pageant mom" status. The lighting and sound provided by a friend who worked as a part-time DJ at some dingy club. He had smuggled some equipment to use for the night.
The small closet rooms that served as backstage facilities were packed with people doing make-up, running around in robes and adding all the final touches.
When the time came for everyone to get dressed, you were running around like a headless chicked, hemming a few pieces here and there and filing down slippery shoes, even having to calm one of the girls down due to an anxiety attack.
"How does that feel? Comfortable?" you asked pulling and adjusting at the top of Hobie's outfit, trying not to restrict his airflow. "Good," was all he said. "Are you nervous, superstar?" he asked, as you worked on a piece of stubborn material at the back of his pants. You scoffed quietly at the stupid nickname. "Yes," you answered truthfully, "there's a few important people out there. If they like what they see, they'll be writing articles. Articles mean exposure, and I really need that right now." You laughed nervously.
"But it's gonna be great," you added, moving away from his pants and taking a moment to admire your work, albeit from behind. "because I have my showstopper right here, and he looks incredible," you added with a smile. He turned around, giving you a coy smirk in return. "You outdid yourself love," he said, looking down at his attire, "on your way to becomin' the new Westwood, yeah?"
You scoffed at his comment. "C'mon you have to go line up," you said.
★˚。⋆.˳⁺⁎˚
The show itself was absolutely perfect. You watched backstage with bated breath as each model disappeared through the dark curtains, then like clockwork returned, some to change into new pieces, then fall back in line.
Hobie had both opened and closed for your show, and by the end of the night when everyone stood in applause, he and your mother had urged you to go on stage to give your final bow. You thought it was corny, but you humored them, walking onto the runway until you were visible and giving everyone a wordless thank you, before making your way backstage once again.
You had thanked every single person who worked with you, giving everyone a warm embrace aswell as thanking them profusely for their hard work. When you finally got to thank Hobie, you wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a fat kiss right on the apple of his cheek. "You," you started, pulling him away from your embrace, but keeping his shoulders in your two hands, "stole the fucking show."
He laughed lightly, shrugging dismissively. "You're the one that made this possible," he said, and you flashed him a megawatt smile, the adrenaline from the night pumping through your body.
"Y'know, there were a few casting directors scouting here tonight," you said, "you might be getting a few calls soon, they'd definitely want to sign a catch like you." He only scrunched his face his dismissal. "Nah," he said, and you furrowed your brows. "I'm not committing myself to some agency, wouldn't want to leave you," he added.
He continued to work with you several more months; working closely with you when designing and creating your pieces, than modeling those same pieces. Your popularity grew, and with it the demand for him; numerous agencies looking to potentially sign him. When it all became too much, he decided to stop all together. You respected his decision, and still remained close with him. You still called him showstopper, and he still called you superstar.
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cain-speaks · 9 months
Text
❣ 𝘾𝙍𝙐𝙎𝙃 ❣ || Wukong x Reader Oneshot
» crush (ethel cain) « 0:21 ─〇───── 3:20
╔⏤⏤⏤⏤╝❀╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗ AUTHOR'S NOTE ╚⏤⏤⏤⏤╗❀╔⏤⏤⏤╝ ➤ One day I'll decide how I wanna format shit lmao. ➤ This is a oneshot. ➤ This is romantic. ➤ Reader is gender neutral (except for one use of "maiden" in reference to you). ➤ This oneshot includes Dragonhead/Triad!Wukong, who is apart of the Triad AU belonging to @skittlescripts! ➤ This oneshot in based off @dumplingsjinson's 4th unrequited-but-not-actually-unrequited-love prompt!! I originally had it here but decided to delete it incase you'd like to go into this kinda blind lol. ➤ If this is dumb I'm sorry I haven't had a genuine crush since like 2nd grade /gen. Also romance is NOT my strongsuit despite how much I read LMAO. ➤ TRIGGER WARNINGS include profanity, denial of feelings, avoidance, lying, self-deprecation, angst, and crying. ➤ Word count: 4,300
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
❝ Camo jacket, robbing corner stores; hard odds to beat when you're on all fours .❞
You didn't want this.
You didn't want this.
It started off innocently enough—a blush when you caught the Great Sage's eye, a bit of a tremble to your voice or your knees when his hand brushed yours, squealing into your pillows when he gave you gifts. Embarrassing reactions, yes, but not surprising. Afterall, whole gods have found themselves swooning for the Monkey King even if they've a snowball's chance in hell at actually gaining his affections—what chance did your mortal self stand against the demon's wicked charm? But surely your little... celebrity crush didn't mean anything significant.
Except it did.
You barely ever had crushes growing up, much less attractions so passionate you could call them love. But with Wukong, it came far too easily. You loved the way he spoke, the way he held himself, the way he managed to create a community of loyal allies despite his many enemies. But then you also loved the simple things—his real laugh, the one that made him clutch his stomach and cackle until tears were dripping from his eyes; the way his tail swayed like a dog's and curled into a heart when he was excited; the way he smelt of peaches and flowers, as if he was a whole world just for you to—
No!
No, no, no!
This is how the greatest friendships crashed and burned. An insistent crush and a hopeful heart and a two-timing brain poisoning you with sweet what-ifs and flowery dreams is all it takes for you to make one irreversible, permanent step; for you to pour your heart out only to hear we can still be friends! and watch him drift away.
Well, not you. You weren't going to risk breaking your heart nor your and Wukong's friendship over a crush, no matter how serious. So after many sleepless nights of brainstorming (and daydreaming... goddamnit, brain!), you finally devised a plan to squash your feelings for the Monkey King.
1.) Create distance physically.
You tap your fingers against your thigh anxiously, fighting the urge to scratch angry red blotches into the skin while you wait for Wukong to pick up your call. You thought this method would be easiest for enacting Step 1, hoping Wukong and Macaque wouldn't be able to pick out any lies over the phone, but with how long it's taking him to answer, maybe it'd be easier to avoid him the hard way—
"Hey, peaches!" Wukong's cheery voice greets over the line, making you huff in relief. "What's up? You're not calling to ask if you can come up, right? Because you know I've told you you can just come, riiighttt?"
Your heart swoons ridiculously, and you have to aggressively remind yourself that hanging out with Wukong is the exact opposite of what you want to achieve.
"Yessss, I remember," you force out in a nasally, cracking voice that you pray sounds convincing. "But no, that's not why I'm calling."
"Oh, peaches, are you sick?" Wukong asks worriedly, and you can feel his furrowed eyebrows through the phone.
"No," you snark, and then you force out some rough-sounding coughs, grimacing at the way your throat stings. "This happens every year. Sometime near spring I get super sick for like a month—might be the pollen or something, I dunno."
"I never noticed," Wukong replies softly. "I'm sorry, peaches. I woulda helped you before if I'd realized."
Your heart flips again and you lean away from the phone to form a silent scream before returning. "It's—cough—fine. I'm a big girl, a little springtime bug isn't going to kill me. But it is gonna keep me in my house for a few weeks."
"In that case, why don't I let Macaque handle things for a bit and come over—"
"No!" You snap out, your hand immediately smacking over your mouth at the outburst. Fuck! You think, mind racing to recover from your fumble. You let out a series of coughs as you think, then lick your lips. "S-Sorry... while it means a lot that you'd do that for me, when I get like this... it's just easier to handle it alone. I don't really have the energy to be around people or have them around me."
You cross your fingers, your opposite hand gripping your clothes in a white-knuckle grip as a few beats of silence pass. God, let him believe me so I can hang up—
"Alright, peaches," Wukong replies softly, and you have to lean back so he won't hear the relieved huff of air you let out. You're so busy rejoicing you nearly miss what he says next. "But I'm still going to drop food off to you, alright?" Seeming to sense a coming argument from you, he adds, "I'll just drop it off at your door and send you a message."
You sigh, a small smile forcing it's way on to your face despite the situation still not being as perfect as you'd hoped for. "Guess I can't stop you, sunshine."
"Nope!" Wukong laughs, popping the p. "Get well soon! Who knows what mischief I'll be up to without my angel to keep me on the path of grace?" He cooes with a subtle purr to his words. A wild blush blooms on your face, burning your ear tips as you soak in what he said.
"You're supposed to be able to do that on your own, Great Sage," you croak out, burying your flushed face in your unused hand even though the cheeky monkey isn't here to see it.
"What's the fun in that?" Wukong snickers. Then his voice softens, squeezing your heart. "But seriously, take care of yourself, peaches. If you need space, that's fine, but if you need help, ask. There's nothing you could do that would chase me away."
What he says is sweet, so sweet, and dream-like. His words make you think of a fairytale, with you a fair maiden and him a brave, persistent, dragon-slaying knight.
But life's not a fairytale, and things won't go your way just because you wish on a star.
"Will do, Wuks," you say quietly. "Bye."
"Bye, peaches."
Beep-beep.
Step 1... achieved.
2.) Create distance emotionally.
You couldn't just get rid of your crush (well, you probably could, but that'd entail some magical mumbo jumbo you're not quite desperate enough for yet), but maybe you could weaken it by limiting how much exposure you had to Wukong. Hard, considering how popular he was, but surely not impossible!
So, to start off easy, you got rid of your merch. You were able to sell most of it online, but the more stuff you got rid of, the more... upset you felt. Which made sense, sure—it was stuff you loved, of course, and if you hadn't fallen in love with one of your best friends, you'd never part with it—, but your thoughts felt... insane. You found yourself wondering if people would take care of it, if they'd love it and find the same joy in it that you did.
The idea of someone doing anything less made your skin crawl, and for a few brief moments, you considered doing full deep dives on buyers to make sure the merch was going to a good home. Then you reasoned you sounded absolutely obnoxious, like some creepy fangirl and not a close friend of Sun Wukong, and gave the rest away without any further hesitance.
Goddamn, did it sting though.
True to his word, Wukong stopped by your house once every few days with food and medicine. At first, you were worried he'd try to talk to you or ask to come in, but the only way you even knew he'd been there was when he alerted you with a message. You were grateful for it, but words couldn't describe the relief you had that he left no gifts in the bags.
If he had, that might have set you right back to square one.
Your house felt... empty without Wukong's memorabilia, but you chopped it up to your distaste for change. Obviously the nearly crippling discomfort in your own home was because of the now-barren walls (no way it was because you'd just given away dozens of priceless items...), so you bought some pretty posters of bands, artists, and games you liked and hung them on the wall. It wasn't the same, but you supposed that within time, it'd become your new normal.
You decided to ignore the way that settled on your body like gloomy fog.
Now... for the harder part.
Aside from merch, Wukong had gotten you plenty of personal items. Clothes, jewelry, perfumes, cooking utensils you'd been eyeing, plushies, that sort of thing. You knew just by looking at it that it was expensive, probably things that would land you in debt for life if you'd bought it yourself, and rare, too. Likely some one-of-a-kind stuff, knowing Wukong.
You spent three nights despairing over what to do with them. Giving them away to the masses felt disrespectful to say the least, and with the way your heart shrieked, you decided to listen. Throwing them out didn't feel much better, neither did burying them (yeah... you were thinking of everything)... but you couldn't keep them. No, no, no, it'd just encourage your stupid crush if you caved and kept anything, especially the personal stuff!
So you did the only thing you could think of: give it to your family.
It still didn't feel great either way, but at least you knew they were being cared for. And if Wukong happened to ask for any of it back, it'd be easy to retrieve.
You expect to feel relieved at having found a solution, but it only fills you with dread.
All that's left are the notes.
You keep them in a pretty box in your desk. It's a deep red covered in bright splashes of color meant to resemble fireworks, with bright iron hinges on the back so it could open and close. It's perfectly pristine without so much a speck of dust upon it, its well-cared-for appearance taunting you as you lift it out of its drawer and sit on your bed.
You know you shouldn't look at them, but it's not like it'll change anything—you already have them memorized by heart, anyway.
Dear (name), "Sunshine", huh? Can't say it reflects much of who I am as an infamous, invincible god, but I'll take it over "simian" anyday! I think I'll call you "peaches" in return. It has a nice ring, doesn't it? Sunshine and peaches. Like two peas in a pod. Anyway. I hope you like the clothes!
You laugh softly as you read the note. This had been after you mistakenly let your unspoken nickname for him slip after one of his meetings, flustering both you and the unprepared Dragonhead. Despite your furious blush and profuse apologies, Wukong had made you explain your reasoning behind the nickname (which was mostly Macaque's fault—damn him and his "sun and moon" bullshit). You were mortified, thinking you'd set your and Wukong's relationship way back, but when he started calling you peaches...
Sunshine stuck, and you two really did become peas in a pod.
You've torn through the whole box of notes by the time you realize there are tears running down your cheeks. When realization hits, you bend over and press your hands to your face, open-mouthed sobs wracking your body.
Why'd it have to be him? You could've fallen hopelessly in love with anyone, and your heart chose him?
Wukong isn't the problem. No, not at all. Next to you, the Monkey King seems wild, volatile, too much. But that's only because you're a, well, mortal, incapable of shining even half as brightly as he does. Wukong's a god, an immortal king, a being who'd felled thousands in mere moments—your best friend deserves someone who could meet him at his level, not force him into some domestic role.
Someone better than you.
The thought sends a sharp wave rocking through your chest, but with it comes some rush of desperation—you don't know if it's to fight for or against something, but it leads you to pluck one of the notes from its place on the bed,
turn it over so you can't see the words,
and fucking shred it.
That night, as you lie amongst the torn pieces of paper, you can't help but feel like a sole survivor among a ruined city.
Step 2 is done.
3.) Find somebody else.
You have to admit, Step 3 was definitely a desperate plan B if nothing else worked, and, well...
Nothing else was working.
Your "sick" month had passed, and you were now three months into cold-turkeying Wukong. You were honestly surprised the Monkey King hadn't broken into your house yet, but based on some demon conflicts you'd seen on the news, you figured he was busy.
But that wasn't the problem. What was the problem was your crush hadn't waned in the slightest! In fact, your attempts to get rid of it had only made you want to run further into Wukong's arms, where you'd be drowned in the scent of peaches and flowers and the feeling of soft fur and a strong body against yours and—
Goddamnit!
Part of you felt... tired; sick of what you perceived as dramatic and begging for a break from the heartache. It whispered to you, questioning how good Wukong was to keep around if he would cut you loose just for a crush—even saying that it'd be good for you! Save you the trouble and put you on the path of healing before it got real bad... whatever that meant.
But the other half of you fought and it fought hard. You wanted Wukong, even if it meant you could only have him as a friend. He made you feel good and you'd die before giving that up—that was why you'd started this whole mess in the first place!
Besides. You were a mortal, temporary and simple. And adaptable and well-aged as he was, Wukong was still a several-millennium old god. Rules, unspoken or otherwise, were bound to look different for various relationships, and as far as you were concerned, falling head-over-heels, squealing-into-your-pillows and feet-kicking in love with one you called your best friend was written in big red letters right under no.
So you're here at a café (far away from Wukong's headquarters, you made sure), sitting across from... your date.
They're gorgeous. With fawn-colored skin, soft brown eyes, and blonde, orange dipped wavy hair, they make you think of summer, of singing birds and beach days and ice cream in the park. And they're sweet, easily cracking jokes with you and complimenting you without overwhelming you.
But they're not Wukong, and the way you remain acutely aware of that as you share sweet treats with them destroys any hope you had of growing out of this crush.
You're trying to think of ways to let them down gently when you hear the door chime go off. A new customer isn't earth-shattering (it's a public establishment, after all), but a chorus of sharp gasps and your date's frightened stare looking past you makes you turn.
And, god, you wish you hadn't.
Wukong walks into the café calmly, his face unreadable as he scans the booths. You're fairly certain you already know why he's here, but when his eyes meet yours you just know you're fucked.
The café owner bee-lines to Wukong. "G-Great Sage!" They greet, bowing low. "What brings you here?"
Wukong doesn't break eye contact with you. "Nothing to do with you," he answers smoothly before approaching you in long strides.
You can do nothing but watch as he approaches, pinning your tongue between your teeth as you hold the intensity of his stare. Your date, seemingly noticing the tension between you two, reaches out to grasp your hand, but you gently pull away with a shake of your head.
"I'm sorry," you whisper sincerely, sliding enough money for the meal towards them just before Wukong reaches your booth.
The monkey eyes your date, unblinking. If this was any other situation (one where you hadn't avoided him for three months), you'd give him a gentle kick to the leg or something so he'd knock it off. But the situation is too tense, his presence too damning, and you're grateful for the few seconds you get from out beneath the demon's fiery gaze.
"Peaches," he finally murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "We need to talk."
Fuck.
You get up without a word, placing your purse over your shoulder and heading towards the front door with your eyes on your feet. You can feel everyone's eyes on you—or rather, the two of you, as Wukong walks beside you until you reach the door, which he opens for you. Then he follows you out, staying just far enough behind you that he doesn't step on your heels.
Neither of you speak until you get to a bridge, void of people and surrounded by cherry blossom trees. Wukong stops beside you as you peer over the edge.
"Peaches," he says, his voice still soft. "What's going on?"
Fuck.
You immediately deflect. "How did you find me?"
You hear him suck in a breath.
"How?" You hiss out, glaring up at him.
He stares at you in silence for a moment, then turns on his phone. As he presses a button, your phone vibrates in your hand.
"You tracked my phone?" You ask, blinking owlishly.
"You weren't answering me," replies Wukong simply, pocketing his phone again.
Your face flushes in frustration. "I was out—"
"For three months?"
That makes you go silent. Your phone vibrates again, making the screen light up. You can see Wukong's name in your notifications, but you dare not look to see how many there are, lest it condemn you further.
"You know, I went to your house," Wukong carries on, his voice thickening. "All the stuff I got you is gone."
Fuck. Fuck, fuck.
"Yeah," you mumble, your gaze falling to the ground.
"Why? Did you not like it?"
You're torn between honesty and further denial. In the end, Wukong speaks before you can make a choice.
"You didn't throw out the notes."
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
"It took—" his voice chokes out for a second. Your body tenses, your hands turning to white-knuckled fists at your sides. You don't look up. "It took a lot to put them together, surprisingly. Were really dedicated when you tore 'em up, huh?"
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
"Did you lie about being sick? Did you... were you just trying to get away from me?"
"It's not like that," you say, rushed, and you know as soon as the words leave your lips that you shouldn't have spoken.
"Then what is it like?" Wukong chokes out in a thick voice, but you still refuse to look him in the eye.
"I... needed alone time," you mumble.
"Why couldn't you say that?" Wukong replies, a bit of sharpness to his tone, and you can't help but feel like you've opened up the floodgates. "Do I make you feel so unsafe that you'll lie to get away from me?"
"Don't assume things about me," you snap hotly, your eyes flickering to his. They glow with a subtle red color, fixated on you, a testament to his growing emotion in the situation. But that's not what gets you.
It's the tears collecting in his eyes.
Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
"What else am I supposed to do?" He grits out. "You ignored me for three months. You didn't even text back to say if you were still sick, or if you just wanted me to stop contacting you—"
"Wukong, I—" you try, taking a step backward when the monkey flings his arms.
"And you didn't answer MK or Macaque, either!"
"Wukong—"
"You scared the shit out of me, peaches!"
"And I'm sorry for that," you bite out, managing to shut him up for a minute. You gulp, your grip on your purse tightening. "But I had... I have a problem I have to fix—"
"What is it? If you would just tell me I could help!" Wukong exclaims, reaching towards you.
"No!" You shout, twisting away from him. "You can't help, Wukong!"
"You don't know that!"
FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK
"I do! I do know that!"
"How?! How could—"
"BECAUSE HOW THE FUCK ARE YOU GONNA FIX ME LOVING YOU?"
Wukong falls silent. Still. Your hands slap over your mouth.
The two of you stand in silence for what feels like forever. The river feels deathly silent, and not even the wind blows. Finally, you remove your hands.
"I-I mean, I can fix it, don't worry," you say quickly, the words spilling from your lips like water. "T-These feelings are temporary, I promise. They're just, uh, a b-bit more stubborn than I was expecting, y-y'know? But they're nothing serious, I swear! I-I know I've been difficult these past few months, I know, I'm sorry, just, please, Wukong, don't leav—"
"They're what?" is all Wukong utters, his stare burning through you.
You startle for a second, hands dropping to your chest. "T-They're temporary," you repeat. "Not serious, I swear. Nothing has to change."
Wukong doesn't reply at first. Then:
"What if I want them to be serious?"
Your heart nearly stops in your chest at the force of your surprise. "What?" is all you can get out, staring owlishly at the demon.
"I said," he speaks slowly, stepping towards you. "What if I want them to be serious? To be permanent? What if I want you to be head over heels for me, hm?"
You shiver as he stands before you, hands ghosting over your hips.
"What if I want it all to change, peaches?"
Your heart thumps in your chest, your mind desperately trying to make sense of what he's saying.
Surely he's not... he doesn't mean...
"I don't understand," you whisper, your hands hesitantly pressing against his chest.
"Oh, peaches," he cooes softly, leaning in until his forehead rests against your's and all you can see are his eyes.
"Wu—"
"I love you, (name)."
Your breath catches in your throat, your mouth falling open in shock. Your entire body freezes, your thoughts halted as you process his words...
and then your heart soars.
"Me?" You crack out, a blush warming your skin exponentially. It's a bit overwhelming, the mix of love, surprise, and unfiltered relief. So much so that you can't stop the tears from building up in your eyes and slipping out as you stare up at him. "You love me?"
"Of course," Wukong says softly, his fingers reaching up to brush your tears away. "How couldn't I?"
A sob leaves your mouth at the question. "'C-Cause you're... I'm—"
"Simple?" Wukong ventures, frowning at your nod. He huffs, his thumbs stroking your cheeks. "Peaches, you are anything but simple. You're brilliant and talented and witty and a quick-learner. You keep me guessing even now, and I've been around for a while," he soothes sweetly, a breath of laughter to his voice.
You can't help but laugh a little with him, your heart swelling at his compliments. Your hands slide up his chest and his neck, feeling the soft fur slide through your fingers, and settle on his cheeks. You mirror him then, your thumbs petting his cheek bones and brushing away the wetness in his eyes. Another wave of fresh tears overcomes you when he leans into your hands.
"You're the closest thing to perfection I've ever seen," Wukong murmurs emotionally, one of his hands retracting to engulf one of your's. "You're my girl. My peach. My qíng rén."
A sob breaks free of your lips again as you pull Wukong against you, hiding your face in his chest as you cry. The Dragonhead curls around you, as if shielding you from the outside world, which you're thankful for.
Damn. All of this to find out the great Monkey King loves you back? You're not complaining, god no! Despite your tears, your heart is doing tricks, somersaults and great leaps and cartwheels. It's just...
You definitely have some communication skills to work on, you think.
That can wait, though, you think then, your crying finally tapering out. You manage to tilt your head enough to see Wukong's face, the demon smiling down sweetly at you. Your fingers fiddle with his tie for a moment before drifting upwards and holding his face again.
"Peaches," Wukong calls softly, holding your gaze. "What're you thinking?"
You pause before answering. "I... I want to kiss you," you admit, watching the monkey's face turn a red hue similar to your's. "Can I?"
His ears wiggle, his nose twitches, and then he nods, and you can feel his tail wagging by your legs.
The time for picking on his adorable monkey mannerisms will come later, because right now all you're focused on is bringing Wukong's lips to yours and finally knowing how it feels to kiss the Great Sage.
It's done at an awkward angle since Wukong didn't let you go, the both of you straining a bit to meet each other in the middle, and you break away fast, but it's perfect to you. Maybe not how you imagined a requited crush kiss going, but it's your greatest wish come true in spite of that.
"I love you," he breathes.
Your breath catches again, your heart still flipping ecstatically. "Say it again."
Wukong grins, fangs peeking out of his smile. "I love you, qíng rén."
As you bring the Dragonhead into another kiss, you think of one thing.
Maybe fairytales do exist after all.
❝ Good men die too, so I'd rather be with you .❞
153 notes · View notes
sensitivebellybutton · 4 months
Text
A Guide to Navel Pleasure Part 3: Partner Play
Hiya!
It's all well and good making yourself bite your pillow playing with your own belly button, but what about the fateful day you find yourself about to indulge in a totally different person's navel?
FEAR NOT!
I have returned from the shadows to give you some ideas for how to make that special someone reach heaven through their belly button. Remember, this is all about COMMUNICATION and understanding. What's written here is largely subjective to my own belly button, so if something doesn't work don't worry! It's just as fun experimenting with belly buttons.
Firstly, you two need to get in the mood...
PART 1: LETS GET READY-READY
- If you plan on switching roles, make sure both of you are wearing appropriate belly button clothing. Otherwise, ensure your sub is dressed in something that fully exposes their tummy and belly button.
- Have a good, long discussion about your belly buttons and what works best in a solo environment. Do they have an innie or an outie? Do they enjoy a little bit of pain? Can they navelgasm? Are they comfortable with any other supplementary play (like nipples?).
- Have a photoshoot! Like I said in the last post, taking pictures of your belly button sets the mood in a uniquely sexy way. Get all their good angles, take close-ups, point out on the photos where you're going to ravish them...
Hot and bothered? Good. Grab a pen, it's doodling time <3.
PART 2: SPELLING BEE
I got inspired for this technique @buttonpics, and it's feels insanely good. You can do this one solo too, but doing it with a partner adds a whole other dimension, as you'll see.
- Lie your sub down, their belly button exposed and their knot ready.
- Now, softly plant the pen on their chest, letting them feel the cool point, and start to gently glide it down their tummy. When you reach their navel, skirt AROUND it slowly and go all the way to their waistline. Then, go back up, once again avoiding their belly button. You dont want them getting what they want right away, do you?
- Repeat the above step two or three times, or until you feel they're ready. The next time you reach their belly button, start to gently move the penpoint onto their navel rim and softly trace it, making sure to keep it firmly on the outside.
- As they more and more desperate, verbally begin counting down from 10. With each number, inch the pen a little deeper into their navel, still circling. By 1, let your pen dip onto their knot.
- Here's the fun bit: I want you to pick a couple of words in your head. It could be "belly button" or "navel" or "subby button" or whatever. Let your sub know that you have a word in your head, and they are to try and guess what you're spelling out.
- When drawing each letter, make sure you REALLY over-do it. For example, if writing the letter B, draw that first line up agonisingly slowly, then that first and second curve should be hitting as many folds on their knot as possible. Every letter should be exaggerated, making the navel-owner an absolute mess 😈.
- Give your sub little hints as you're writing, because it's quite hard to think straight when your sensitive belly button is being stimulated in such a way. Don't be too hard on them if they don't get it, this is all about making them feel as good as possible.
You can also do this same exercise with shapes, which has the bonus of you being able to colour it in when you're done (thinking about how that feels makes me 🤯)
PART 3: NAVELINGUS
The holy grail of belly button play, the thing that all owners of erogenous navels hope to experience one day, it's belly button licking. Done right, this can be probably the most incredible feeling. Therefore, it's important we get it right!
You may want to give it a good clean before diving in with your tongue, refer to Part 1 of this series for how to get them shuddering with a Q-tip. Also, make sure that your sub is either wearing a short enough top that it won't get in the way of your head, or no top at all. It's just an annoyance otherwise.
- Their whole stomach is your canvas. With your mouth you can lick, kiss, nibble, bite and suck. That's a lot of different sensations, so we're going to use all of them.
- Firstly, you're going to give their tummy as much gentle love as you can. Nibble adoringly up their sides, lick across their lower stomach, deeply kiss their middle while holding their hand, whatever feels right in the moment. Consider their navel a reward for sitting so still and being so good while you pleasured their belly, and only give it to them when they're ready.
- Once again, the rim is your first port of call. Start with a wide, flat tongue on their lower stomach and lick upwards, transitioning to a pointed, sharp tongue as you begin orbiting their navel. The immediate area around their belly button should be glistening with saliva. Another good move is to gently bite on their navel rim, your top teeth digging just a bit below the rim while your bottom teeth lightly graze their stomach.
- Your tongue isn't as precise as many of the tools you will have been used to using, so don't worry as much about targeting small folds and dimples. It also means you can't really tease their walls the same way you would with a pen or toothpick, so when you feel it's right to dip your tongue inside, feel free to do so.
- The motion that is right will be different for everyone, but for me personally up-down motions work a bit better than a swirling motion simply because it stimulates that central knot so much better. However, others may find that swirling motions are better because they're more sensitive around the edges of the knot, for example. This is your time to experiment with what your partner enjoys. If you hear panting, whimpering or any of the other tell-tales signs of pleasure, keep going.
- Suckling is a great one too. Softly absorbing their knot into your mouth lets you run your tongue around the underside of the knot, an area rarely explored and may get quite an explosive reaction. Slowly suckling for a while is also a great way to rest your tongue for a bit without letting up on the naveljob.
- It's possible that your partner will climax while you lick them. If they start telling you they're going to cum or you suspect they may be close, KEEP DOING WHAT YOU'RE DOING!!! No speeding up, no changing direction or technique, just keep it as it is. Keep licking through their orgasm too for maximum brownie points.
And that just about does it! I haven't got the most time in the world to write these so it's not as full of content as I may have liked, but I hope you enjoyed reading anyway! I'm considering combining all my current guides into a big google doc (plus loadss more) as one big belly button manual hehe, so stay tuned for that!
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