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#this is a super cool + useful idea for a post! :o
toadallytadpole · 14 hours
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I've been enjoying fallout content again recently and it got me thinking...
Has anyone made an AU for Sunny and Moon [DCA from FNAF] yet?
Cuz if not... Y'all mind if I throw them boys into the nuclear apocalypse microwave for a bit??
I already thought of their stats and what perks they might have lmao
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Here Me Out:
Sunny would be the tank style character, he'd use mainly melee weapons and heavy armor.
Moon would be the sneaky smartass that can pick locks and use explosives, but he hates wearing armor so he dips from fights and then pops back in after Sunny deals with raiders or whatever?
And then for a human counterpart [like how people make Y/n characters to go with Sunny and Moon in their AUs], I think a Mechanic style player character would be fun. Super good at tech weapons and can repair the boys as needed, they're the one that always talks them outta trouble with human settlers, but their Luck stat is absolute garbage.
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I can make a dedicated post for their stats, but I just wondered if anyone else had similar thots and ideas?
I think it'd be cool if they were like combinations of different types of robots within the fallout storylines, like part assaultron and securitron? Like they have the face screens that Yes Man has, so they can keep their cute goofy faces but maybe it's more animated than just one image so they can express emotions that way?
I dunno, just some fun thots :o] feel free to share your ideas if ya want too!!
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no1ryomafan · 4 months
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The subject of how female characters are portrayed in mecha rotates constantly in my head after I watch a mecha with at least one noteworthy female and I do want to at some point do a in depth discussion post about this-but at a way later time because there’s a lot of noteworthy shows I have not seen still to really properly comment and critique this part of the genre-but despite this I wanted to talk about Dorothy from Big O rq:
I’ve been thinking about how Dorothy is one of the better supporting females in the genre despite seeing at least one person point she’s a bit of a damsel in distress. I think what helps Dorothy is she’s not always kidnapped, she has a good amount of episodes where she’s the central focus and not helpless, but for every time she’s kidnapped it seems to wrap around with her saving Roger. The biggest examples I can think of this the third Beck episode where Roger is the one who’s kidnapped and Dorothy manages to outsmart Beck despite him originally kidnapping and controlling her twice-making it super satisfying she finally got back at him-and the finale, where somehow Dorothy, without her memories managed to come back online to recuse Roger and aids him in the finale fight. Dorothy’s entire character arc is about her doing her own thing, BEING her own person, so it makes sense why she’s a bit of a subdivision of the regular damsel in distress. She still gets kidnapped but she’s not helpless and usually returns the favor to Roger, making every time Roger *does* have to recuse her seem out of genuine care and not “this girl I like is in danger and helpless!” (especially because Roger didn’t fully realize her feelings for her until the very end)
That said, even if I think Dorothy is a well done take of a otherwise really bad trope that plagues female characters since she does very much have agency, one thing on reflection that does irk me a bit that would’ve made her character a tad more satisfying is if Dorothy *actually* got to properly pilot Big O:
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Every time we’ve seen her in the robots it’s only either been she was unconscious/defenseless-I. E. ep 4 and ep 9-or at the aid of Roger. While the latter is more common, and like I said in the finale she is still very important in helping in the finale fight as she uses herself to power up Big O, multiple times before we have seen her capable of being able to pilot it. Big O may like Roger the most, it is his robot, but it also recognizes Dorothy cares about him just as much as it does, so I think it would’ve been cool even if it was for one episode if she got to pilot it instead, whether it be because Roger got injured or kidnapped.
Or maybe I’m just nitpicking a little and really like the idea of “robot operating a robot” since Dorothy is still one of the best supporting females in the genre, but just because they’re supporting doesn’t mean they shouldn’t be allowed to fully pilot the robot at least once. : p
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macfrog · 25 days
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sweet child o' mine | pt. iv
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to @mrsmando - without whom this insane story would never have happened in the first place. i love you i love you i love you thank you all so much for coming on this journey with me - it has been a blast. i hope you like where we turn out! love you guys always n forever x
pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader
summary: you're a mom. it's time to get your shit together.
warnings: bon jovi mention straight out the gate, labor/delivery [i have never given birth. those of you who have are nothing short of remarkable. please forgive if some of this is a little inaccurate or vague], use of pain medication during birth, description of pain and post-birth recovery, super emotional reader, unprotected piv, oral, alcohol consumption. DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.
word count: 12k
pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵
It’s September twenty-third.
Well, by now, it’s probably the twenty-fourth. You’ve been a little distracted, rolling between the sheets with your next-door neighbor for the last couple hours.
The wedding’s still going strong downstairs. The same Bon Jovi song has played three times over. Tommy has called Joel to ask where he is so much that Joel’s phone is now switched off and shoved to the bottom of his bag.
You’re slouched on the toilet in a sliver of moonlight. A fistful of tissue, panties loose around your ankles. Rolling your forehead side to side along the cool tile, heartbeat hammering between your temples.
Joel Miller – Joel fucking Miller – is in your bed. Naked, sweating, cock probably still half-hard.
This morning, the very idea of the man was an eyeroll. Stood in your mirror, promising yourself that this time tomorrow, it’ll all be over with.
This time in a month, it’ll be a foggy memory.
This time in a year, it –
His voice is muffled through the bathroom door. “Did you fall in, or somethin’?”
You snort. The milky moon blurs across your vision when you pull yourself upright. You swipe between your legs and stand, flushing the toilet.
“I needed a fucking breather,” you tease, tiptoeing back across the room.
Joel’s stretched out; a worked arm draped along the headboard. Sun-kissed to the middle of his bicep, paler across his shoulder. One leg bare on the mattress, the other under the sheets. They only just cover his modesty – dark hair trailing beneath light silk just in time.
He’s so big. It’s like you never really noticed until now. He takes up half the bed, laying like this. And sure, you’re halfway to fucked, but – has he always been so handsome?
You flop down beside him with a sigh, curling up in the burrow of sheets at his side. Your eyes trail up his body – the sheen of sweat up his side, the dark, damp hair under his arm. All the parts of him you’ve never seen before, will never see again.
You gulp. Quit fucking staring.
He doesn’t notice, anyway. He’s rubbing circles into his temples, grumbling. “How many goddamn times are they gonna play It’s My Life?”
“…for Tommy and Gina…” you nudge him, “…who never backed down…”
Joel chuckles, pulling his hand down his beard. “Twenty bucks says he’s changing that to Maria.”
“Oh, for sure. I ain’t going back down to listen to it, though.”
He hums in agreement, reaching over for his beer. His Adam’s apple bobs as he drinks.
“You owe me, by the way. This is my room, remember? My fucking minibar.”
He pauses, the bottle against his bottom lip. His eyes linger south of your chin before he answers, “I’m paying for the damn room.”
“Then I want a drink from yours. Make it even.”
He clicks his teeth and drinks again. “It’s one beer. Call it an early birthday gift.”
You frown. “When the hell’s your birthday?”
“Tuesday.”
“Bullshit.”
“Serious. The twenty-sixth.”
You push yourself up onto your elbows; chest bare and on display. And it’s a strange feeling, how little you care. Twelve hours ago, you didn’t know how close to sit next to him at the ceremony. How many times you could accidentally bump knees or brush elbows and it not be weird.
But in the last two hours, he’s made you come more times than you can count. More times than anyone you’ve ever been with before – that’s for sure. And you’ve repaid the favor: the proof is still dribbling out of you. Still dripping between your legs, all pearlescent and warm. You’re soaked, swollen, still sore from the size of him.
It’s a fucking strange feeling, that you don’t mind at all.
“How old are you turning?” you ask.
Joel swallows. He settles the beer on his sternum, thumbing the corner of the label. Sucks in a deep breath and says, “Forty-eight.”
“Jesus,” you mutter, eyes wide.
He turns slowly, glaring at you. “Hilarious,” he drawls, bumping the bottle against your tummy.
You hiss at the sudden chill. Wiping cold droplets from your skin, you swipe it from his grasp.
Joel pushes himself from the bed with a quiet groan and pads across the room. His cock sways with each step, an arrowhead of thick hair at its base.
He doesn’t seem to mind, either.
You tip your chin back, taking a hefty swig.
The pulsing bass is heavier, guitar squeal sharper, when he cracks open the window. Cool air sweeps past the scent of sex and settles softly on your skin.
The mattress dips again as Joel settles back into bed. He pulls the sheet over himself, silk falling over the stubborn shape against his thigh.
“Well,” you pass him the bottle, “happy birthday, old man. Here’s to forty-eight.”
“Here’s to forty-eight,” Joel echoes, staring off into space, “and whatever the hell it has in store.”
1:29. 1:29. 1:30.
It’s blurring across your vision. The pain and the panic and the blinking of your fucking alarm clock.
Your stomach is still tensed in the aftermath of the contraction; an ache like the slow sway of the ocean, a wave rolling off into the distance. You’re hunched over the edge of the bed – knee bouncing, palms kneading your round belly.
“We’re okay,” you whisper, blowing into the still night. “We’re fine. Maybe it isn’t labor, right? Maybe it’s just those…Braxton…shit…Hicks.”
The cicadas laugh as your uterus swings again.
Another kick of pain; a bolt that winds you, piercing from your stomach down between your legs. So slow it feels fucking personal.
Your back curls, nails digging into the mattress. You grit your teeth until it passes, then push yourself to your feet, reaching for your phone.
You think of Joel: the flecks of gold in his eyes, the rough surface of his palms. The fresh, woodsy scent woven into every thread on his shirt, seeping from every pore on his skin.
The way he’d pull you under his arm and walk you to his truck. Play more Eagles or whatever shit he has to take your mind off the pain – tell you he knows, he knows as you whimper in agony. The way he’d hold your thigh the entire ride, loosening it only to weave his fingers through yours.
He’s in Houston, though. He’s something like three hours away. There’s nothing he could do, even if you did call – even if he did pick up. Even if he got in his truck right this second.
Shit. Shit fuck shit. How are you in labor right now, on this fucking night? All your teasing, all your taunting the universe. You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?
Yeah. They’re half you.
You’re on your own. It’s nothing new; you’ve been on your own for most of your life. You drove yourself to college, worked your ass off, and sold your graduation guest tickets to your roommate. You found a job by yourself, moved back to Austin and turned it into home by yourself.
You haven’t needed anyone or anything, since you were eighteen.
But – oh, Jesus, fuck it. This was a two-man job from the start. Some things you figure you can let slide – and having a kid seems like a pretty decent excuse.
Fuck it.
You move, hunched and hobbling, to the bathroom door. Slumped against the wooden frame, you cup a hand between your legs.
Sure enough, your underwear is soaked. The fluid trickles down the seam of your thigh, warm and thin. It glistens in the moonlight when you lift your fingers.
“Shit,” you whisper. “Goddamn it, Duck.”
Body tingling and almost numb with pain, you scroll through your contacts to J. You stumble into the bathroom, wet fingers slipping around the sink. A weight begins to pull low between your hips.
Two rings and the tone cuts, his voice instantly spilling a cool comfort down your spine.
There’s no hello, no double checking that you haven’t accidentally dialed him in your sleep. Only that trademark drawl, that flat tone you’d swear sounded bored, if it weren’t for the haste with which Joel asks, “You okay?” the second he answers.
As if he were awake anyway, just waiting for your call.
“Yeah,” you choke, rubbing the nape of your neck. “I just called at one in the morning to…to say hi.”
He sighs, the crackle of breath echoed by the tinkle of wind chimes. The creak of wood as he settles into a chair on Vanessa’s parents’ porch. “Alright, smartass. What is it?”
“I’m…I’m in labor.”
“Mhm. That sure is funny, baby. Good one.”
You groan. “No, Joel, I swear – I swear, I just went into labor.”
He pauses. The chimes titter in the background. “You’re…You ain’t kidding me?”
The sharp peak of pain swipes the air clean from your lungs. The phone hits the sink with a clatter, drowning out your cry.
This kid is beating the ever-loving shit out of you. You’d be embarrassed if you had the energy to think about it.
“Baby?” Joel yells, loud enough that the sound loops around the bowl. His voice lifts to an octave you didn’t know it could reach. “Talk to me. Please, talk to me.”
Your fingers clamp around the phone. “I’m f-fine. It’s fine. I just gotta…gotta change my fuckin’ sheets, Joel, my waters broke while I was sleeping –”
“Oh, Christ,” he growls. The door squeals as he storms back into Vanessa’s family home. “The sh…Change the goddamn sheets? You gotta get to a hospital, darlin’!”
You laugh, head tipping back. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “Feels like the kid’s trying to kill me, but I can – shit, I can take ‘em.”
There’s the jangle of keys, the ruffle of a shirt being thrown over his head. “Yeah?” Joel says.“You can take childbirth, all on your own? Do me a favor and call a damn ambulance, baby.”
“An ambulance,” you repeat, laughing again.
“Yes, an ambulance. Call 9-1-1 right now. You want me to call ‘em? Let me go grab the landline –”
“Joel, do not call an ambulance –”
And if you thought you’d heard him at breaking point before – plucking your underwear from his lawn, dragging you around Home Depot, paling in your room with a pregnancy test in his hands – you know you have, now.
“You gotta get to a goddamn hospital now, baby!”
His voice trembles at its end, quivers like the pluck of a guitar string. A high-pitched echo, a nervous vibration.
Joel’s panicking.
It’s the second thing in less than five minutes that you never knew he could do.
“I can’t afford a f-fucking ambulance, Joel,” you yelp, sitting back on the edge of the bathtub.
“I will pay for it,” he pleads, “I’ll pay. Just – you gotta call them. You gotta…” He sighs again, breath wavering. “You’re in labor, and you’re alone. If anything happened to you, I –”
A hushed voice interrupts him. Follows him through the house, knotting her nightgown around her waist and twisting her dark tresses into a ponytail.
“She’s in labor,” Joel tells her. “I can’t stay. I’m going back for her.”
The porch door slams shut before Vanessa can reply, and Joel’s back outside again. Gravel crunching beneath his boots, crickets screaming in the background. “Still with me?” he asks.
“Still here,” you breathe, tracing your nails along your leg. “Duckie says hi, I guess.”
He hums. “Hi, Duckie. You little shit.”
You rock back and forth, eyes closed. Breathing between contractions, your head low between your shoulders. “How long will you be?”
The truck door creaks open. “I’m leaving right now. I’ll be…Fuck, I’ll be a couple hours, at least. I’m on my way, alright?”
Tears drip onto your bare thighs, the salt spilling into your mouth. “Joel,” you shake your head, “I don’t think I can do this.”
“Yes, you can,” he says. “Are you kidding? Got us this far ‘n now you want to bail? That ain’t you, baby. Come on, now.”
“I wanna bail,” you insist. You slump to the floor, head lolling over the rim of the bathtub. Weeping like a little kid. “I’m scared, Joel. I’m so scared.”
“I know you are. Lord knows I’m scared, too – scared as hell. But –” the engine roars to life, “– I can’t wait to finally meet this kid. Our kid. Can’t wait to hold ‘em. Can’t wait to see you become a mom, and me become a dad.”
“Mom and Dad,” you whisper, sniffling.
“Mom and Dad, right? Yeah. You can do this. I know you can.”
The bathroom blurs behind your tears. You close your eyes, replacing the pale night with warmer dawn. Replacing it with images of tiny hands and feet; missing front teeth and a love-worn teddy tucked safely into bed.
Joel’s voice is softer, kinder. Calmer, now that he’s closing the hundred and fifty miles between the two of you.
“Just – don’t let the kid give you any shit, alright?”
The fear boils into determination. Something more irritating than it is terrifying. You inhale, blowing a heavy, shuddered breath to the ceiling. “Whatever, Miller.”
“Attagirl,” he says. “That’s the spirit. Now, call a damn ambulance.”
With a scoff, you push yourself to your feet, waddling towards the foot of your bed. You sway back and forth, holding your bump and listening to the hum of Joel’s truck.
And then you hear it.
Three sharp raps, from downstairs.
You wander to the hallway, squinting in the dark. “Joel?”
“Hm?”
“Are you…?”
The sound grows louder the nearer you draw. Quick knuckles against your front door.
“Am I what, darlin’?”
You lower yourself down the stairs, fist tight around the rail.
It’s August again. Sun’s encore blazing through your kitchen windows, bleeding golden through your living room. Everything shining, everything new and untouched.
Knock knock knock.
Light satin, duck egg blue; string lights and a diamond-encrusted necklace. The bones of your wardrobe propped against your porch. A rattling toolbox hanging from his fist, a positive pregnancy test in yours.
The knocking halts when you flick the porch light on. She calls your name once, old voice quivering.
Your phone is still glued to your ear as you pull the door open. “Al…?”
She squints at you and lifts a hand to shield from the light. She’s still in her pajamas – green dressing gown loose and lifting in the breeze.
Her eyes drop to the tee draped over your bump, the silver stream of fluid down the inside of your thigh. As she opens her mouth to speak, your hand slams into the doorpost.
“Oh, fuck,” you groan, and Alice Brown steps straight over the threshold.
“Are you in labor? Oh, sweetie. Sit down, sit.”
She backs you towards the stairs. One bony, trembling hand around yours – squeezing as tight as you are. She rubs up and down your spine, shushing until the pain subsides.
You blink up at her glowing figure, haloed by the porch light outside. “How did you…?”
She hushes you with a finger in the air. “I’m up most nights. I heard you from the window. Have you called 9-1-1?”
You shake your head, beginning to cry again.
Alice just nods, dismissing your bullshit. “Where’s your overnight bag, sweetheart?”
You toss a thumb over your shoulder. “It’s up in the nursery. I can go grab it –”
She holds you still with a hand on your shoulder. “Stay.” Another curt nod, then, “Get your shoes, get yourself over to my car. Do you need pants? You need pants. My car, right now.”
“Alice, you really don’t have to –”
“Get in the car,” she insists, climbing past you. “I’m right behind you!”
You watch her figure dissolve into the dim upstairs, and lift the phone back to your ear. “Did you…hear all that?”
“Alice Brown,” Joel replies, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “What’d I tell ya? That woman doesn’t miss a goddamn thing in this neighborhood.”
“Three centimeters,” the obstetrician says, covering your legs with the sheet. “Still a little ways to go.”
The suite is hushed and still. Walls an unoffending shade of oatmeal; decorated only with oak paneling and a framed painting of some lilies.
A nurse tilts the shades, averting the twinkling city lights in the distance. She turns and smiles – the same fucking smile everyone’s been giving you since you set foot in the place. Head tilted, brows arched.
Sympathy that you want to chew up and spit back out at their feet.
You force yourself to smile in return, and she floats back out to the bustling reception.
“Will he make it?” Alice asks. She’s still in her pajamas; the floral print goes well with the interior of the room. “The father, I mean. Joel.”
The obstetrician peels the gloves from her hands. She shrugs as she drops them into a wastebin. “I don’t see why not,” she says. “Things are moving a little quickly, but I don’t see you having your baby in the next couple hours.”
“You don’t know this kid like I do,” you groan, shifting in the bed.
She lifts the cardiotocograph reading, scanning the jagged lines. “You’re doing great,” she says. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just holler if you need anything.” She strolls off, letting the door sweep shut behind her.
Alice adjusts your pillow and squeezes your shoulder. She holds out a cup of water, guiding the straw to your lips. “He’ll be here,” she whispers.
You take a sip and settle back. “I don’t think I’m that lucky. I told him I hoped he’d get a flat on the ride there. This feels like karma.”
“Well, if it’s anyone’s karma –” she wiggles her fingers, “– it’s his. Going to Houston was ridiculous in the first place. Hell, you two not being together is ridiculous.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “Just because we’re having a kid doesn’t mean we should be together. You shouldn’t be with someone for the sake of a baby who won’t even know any different.”
“Right, right,” Alice agrees, turning away. “You should only be with someone if you love them.”
“Exactly. And me and Joel – we’re not in love.”
She murmurs to herself. She lowers into a chair by the window, crossing her arms. “I’m seventy-three,” she says. “I’m not a damn fool.”
Something twists awkwardly between your hips. You wince, clutching your bump.
Duckie’s heartbeat pulses through the room. Muffled little bubbles of noise, popping one after the other. Strong and steady as hell – a determined little thing, the doctor said.
Don’t I fucking know it, you thought.
You reach for the silicone mask and cup it over your mouth. The gas is cold and funny when you inhale, feeling it shoot straight for the back of your skull. It does little more than dull the spiking pain, but still – you tip your head back, eyes rolling closed.
You let yourself fade from the suite – its yellow lamplight and hushed chatter outside – to somewhere warmer. Somewhere brighter.
Birdsong high overhead, and the whispering leaves on the oak trees in your yard. The sweet breeze on your skin, soothing the sting of the sun. Prickling wood on your fingertips, the gentle strum of a guitar somewhere beyond the fence.
Peering between the slats, catching glimpses of him like watching a film reel. His head nodding, his foot tapping. The concentration tight on his face; the perfect pick and pluck of his fingers on each string.
Half-hoping that he’ll spot you, scold you for spying and storm back into his house. That he might bring it up later – And another thing, while he whips his newspaper from your grasp, ignoring your cackling.
Half-hoping that he won’t. That he’ll sit there at his back door, bottle of beer at his feet, playing to his audience of sparrows.
And you’ll stand here, wishing you could ask the name of each song he hums.
The contraction splits your daydream in two.
In two hours, you dilate almost three centimeters.
You pace back and forth across the suite, pausing only when your womb clenches like a fist. The contractions are lasting longer, swinging lower, and punching harder. They’re giving you less recovery time; less of a chance to get back on your feet.
It’s a fucking nightmare.
Joel’s still not here. Last you heard, he’d just hit Travis County. Twenty minutes, baby, I promise. That was half an hour ago.
It might be for the better that he hasn’t gotten here. You’ve warned Alice three times already that you might just beat the shit out of him, whenever he walks through that door.
And you know what, sweetheart? She chuckled. I bet you could beat the shit out of him, sore as you are.
“Fuck,” you cry out, collapsing onto the bed. You stretch out forward, head hanging between your shoulders, and gulp back more of the laughing gas. The ache barrels from your stomach to your hips, peaking in the very center.
Alice rubs circles into the small of your back. It’s not helping, but you let her do it anyways. Gives her something to tell the neighbors that isn’t damaging to your reputation.
“That’s it,” she coos. “A little longer, just a little…”
The door clicks open just as the tense band begins to loosen.
Your head is spinning. The mask slips from your fingers.
Alice’s hand pauses. “…a little longer…” she repeats, voice drifting. Her weight leaves your back, replaced by something heavier, stronger.
Safer.
Someone grounding, someone smelling of pine and sweet spice.
He sits on the bed at your back and curves around your body. Lips to your shoulder like the sun in your backyard. His beard scratches against your hot skin.
You blink your eyes open.
Joel’s watch face winks back at you. His hands are over yours – bigger, wider. His fists swallow yours whole. They turn, slipping beneath your palms, and your fingers lace together.
“Joel…” you breathe, face turning in to his neck.
“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, wiping sweat from your brow.
You fall limp against his chest. “Holy shit.”
He looks exhausted. Gray, almost translucent. Looks like he’s just driven a couple hundred miles, half asleep and wholly panicked.
But – he’s here. He made it.
The sight of him, the feel of him holding you upright, melts away any anger or resolve to fight back. For now, at least. Picking an argument can wait until there isn’t a human splitting you in two.
He’s here. You’re not doing this alone.
“Holy shit,” Joel repeats. “You okay?”
“How did you get here so –?”
“Ninety-five the entire way.”
You frown. “Only ninety-five?”
“Trunk’s a hunk a’ shit,” he admits. “Couldn’t break a hundred.”
Alice scoffs, somewhere across the room.
He cradles you, his lips to your forehead. “Where we at?” he asks, staring at the paper churning from the cardiotocograph.
“Five, almost s–shit – six centimeters.” You clamp down on his hands, your uterus winding again.
Joel holds the mask back to your lips and you suck another chemical breath in. “Six? Jesus,” he gapes at Alice, “ain’t that…ain’t that real fast? For – for your first?”
Your fingers are weak and shaky, resting on his knuckles. “Your kid has a sick sense of humor,” you mutter into the silicone.
“That ain’t from me,” he says. “That’s all you, maestro.”
You turn closer into his shirt with a groan. He’s solid as a rock, swaying you through it. He’s here.
Alice swipes her coat from a hook by the door. She shakes her head, pulling it over her shoulders. “Ninety-five, Joel? Sweet Lord.”
He rolls his eyes. His hand curves around your bump. “Had a little bit of an emergency, Alice,” he says, watching your face twist with pain.
“And what if you’d had an accident?”
“I didn’t, Alice.”
“You could’ve, goin’ that damn fast. You’re lucky you’re even here.”
Joel finally looks up. “It’s four in the mornin’,” he protests, like a teenager. “Lucky if I passed five cars.”
You give him a weak smile, lowering the mask. You won’t win, you mouth.
He presses his lips to your head. “’s too much fun,” he murmurs, and you snort.
“Oh!” Alice throws a hand up. “I’m glad you find it funny!” She buttons her coat and glares back at both of you, hands on her hips.
She’s a busybody – has been since before you even moved in. She showed up on your doorstep on your first night with a casserole in hand, and made sure to get a good look at your living room before she shuffled back to her own place.
Always watching, always listening.
You never thought you’d see the day when you’d actually be thankful for her snoopiness.
“Thank you, Alice,” you say, head tilting. “For getting me here, for holding my hand…Thank you.”
Her expression thaws, eyes gleaming. With a sniff, she composes herself – and then points to Joel. “You call me as soon as that baby arrives. I won’t sleep, Joel, until you call.”
“I’ll call,” he assures.
She looks back at you. Balls her crepe paper fists, gives them a hearty shake. “Good luck, Mom,” she says, and with one last glance, slips out of the room.
Joel turns back to you, an eyebrow raised. “Take it she was out tendin’ to her tulips again?”
“Yeah,” you snicker, “one in the morning, those fuckers had to be watered.”
He chuckles. “You feelin’ okay?”
“Better now,” you tell him.
“I’m so sorry, darlin’,” he says, shaking his head. “I should’ve been here. A goddamn idiot, headin’ off like that. So damn stupid.”
“Shh, you’re here now.” You wipe the tears from the corners of his eyes. “I just needed you to be here.”
He nods. “I’m here, whatever you need. Tell me what I can do.”
You take a deep breath. “I need…”
Joel straightens – bracing, ready to jump at your first request.
“…I need a fucking break, Joel. I’m so tired, and this fucking kid –”
“Alright,” he sighs, shifting from behind you. “You and your goddamn jokes.”
You smirk, looking over your shoulder. “You missed me.”
“Hm,” he fixes the neckline of your gown, “I missed you. I really did.”
Born at 07:43. It’s a girl.
It’s like being broken open. Like splitting at the seams; your old self falling from you like shards of fruit. Separating, rolling apart; making way for someone older, wiser. Someone with all of the answers in the palm of her hand.
Mom.
You finally get it. She turns to you, finally glances over her shoulder. And she’s no stranger – no one you haven’t known your entire life. I know you, you whisper, nail trailing her smile lines and the pimples along her jaw.
I see you every time I look in the mirror.
Duckie is pulled from your body with a scream like bloody murder – a scream which matches the whimper you let out in shock, if not in volume.
The kid can scream. Jesus Christ, she can scream. It pierces the dull room; deafens you for a couple seconds the first time you hear it.
You’ve never heard a sound so fucking beautiful.
She wails as they lift her from your body. All curled-up, wriggling in the midwife’s arms. She wails as they slot her beneath your chin, as they wipe the blood and amniotic fluid from her.
She wails until the moment her skin meets yours, and as though it’s all you’ve ever known, you begin shushing her cries. Your arms close around her body, rocking her until she settles.
Her tiny hand grabs for something, for someone, for –
You.
Her mom.
“Joel,” you gasp, watching her tiny, pruned fingers clasp tight around just one of yours. “She’s…she’s so small…”
He sniffs in reply, lifting his hand from your shoulder to wipe his face.
You turn to look up at him.
He looks as broken open as you feel. Eyes bloodshot and soaking, tears streaming into his thick beard. A sob in his throat which chokes and silences him, until he catches your eye and he can’t help but laugh with elation.
“Look at her,” he weeps, all torn up by the little girl in your arms. He presses his lips to your forehead in a crash of a kiss: wet, soaking wet on your skin.
You beam up at him when he pulls away. “We did it,” you whisper.
Joel shakes his head. He runs a thumb across the damp print left on your head. “You did it, honey,” he mutters. “I was nothin’ but a spectator.”
“You almost missed the game,” you quip, and he laughs again.
Your body throbs; nearly numb with pain, heavy with fatigue and emotion. But as long as she’s here, this tiny tornado of a girl, you don’t feel a thing.
Clenching and then unclenching her fist around your finger – so delicate compared to the punches she was throwing at your ribs just six hours ago. She’s worth every fucking second of it.
You finally fucking get it.
She fits so perfectly in the crook of your arm. It feels as though your body was made just to hold her – the very shape of you, designed especially for the very shape of her.
You wonder whether it was the same for your mom. Whether you came along and made her feel whole, for the first time in her life.
Duckie’s eyes open – all glossy and brand new, blinking up at the both of you like she needed no introduction. She already knows you, from the inside out. Her dad’s graying beard, the threads of silver around his temples. Her mom’s tear-stained cheeks, eyes red and bleary with sleeplessness and pure love.
You’re Mom, you’re Dad.
It’s all she’s ever known.
The pillow sighs as you lean back into it. The doctor begins repairing the damage done between your legs; threading and knitting your body back together.
You’re caught between a state of bliss and shock. Your brain is doing much the same work to itself as the woman between your knees is. Patching over all the bloody parts: the screams which tore your skin, the pain which cracked your teeth.
None of it holds a candle to the weight of her in your arms. No matter how tired you are, you can’t take your eyes off her. Her puffy cheeks, the little creases between her brows. No matter how sore, you never want to let go of her.
Joel runs a finger down Duckie’s cheek. “Ain’t she the most beautiful thing in the world?”
“I love her,” you say, bubbling again. “I love her more than anything.”
An hour old, and she’s already a daddy’s girl.
Joel ambles back and forth at the foot of your bed in the recovery suite, bouncing Duck in his arms. He’s never looked so relaxed, so natural at something. He’s never seemed so content, so peaceful.
Everything he’s ever made with his hands – structures and framework and your goddamn closet – and yet this, this tiny accident, this baby girl you were so sure you’d dreamt up right up until an hour ago –
This is the thing he’s proudest of.
Morning lifts through the windows, all soft and vanilla. It floats around him, sunlight spilling across his skin and breathing life and color into him.
Sunlight – or his daughter. They’re the same thing, anyway.
You pull apart a slice of toast, watching. Just watching. Sweet strawberry jam on your tongue, the flavor of everything sharper, fresher. The colors brighter, more vivid.
The world makes more sense like this, you think. Painted in shades of honey and ochre; a room in a corner of the world where time slows to a halt. A soft lullaby from his lips, and the little coos from hers.
The ache of love and labor lingers deep inside you, and nothing has ever made more sense.
You suck the sticky sweet from your fingertips.
Joel looks up, toying with Duckie’s hand. “You want her back?” he asks, a dumb grin on his face.
You shake your head. “I like watching you.”
He scrunches his nose, nuzzling it against his daughter’s, and whispers, “I wasn’t gonna give you back, anyways.” He sways in the early light, staring down at her. “Jesus,” he mutters, swiping at his eyes again, “I didn’t…I didn’t know I could love somethin’ this much.”
“Me, either.”
He drifts over, lowering himself slowly onto the edge of the bed. He extends his elbow, still cradling the baby, and helps you pull yourself upright.
You hiss, a not-so-subtle sting between your legs.
“You, uh…you think of a name yet?” Joel asks.
“Not yet,” you reply, hooked onto his shoulder. Duck blows a bubble and you wipe it with your knuckle. “I thought we were sticking with Duckie?”
His cheeks swell. The sun kisses the edges of his beard. “I thought of one,” he says softly. “Maybe. It’s your call.”
You yawn into his shirt, the warmth of him calm and soothing. “Alright, Miller. Hit me.”
He looks down at the baby nestled in his safe hands. The smallest thing either of you have ever seen.
The name must roll around his head a few times, the way he tilts to-and-fro – looking at her from one angle, then the next. Deciding, when he pulls back, that she suits it from every direction. Like it was her name long before he or even you knew it.
You watch his lips shape the name before you hear it.
Sarah.
And for what feels like forever, you just stare at him. The syllables lingering in the air like glistening specks of dust in a sunbeam. Your eyes follow them down to your daughter, now sleeping peacefully with two hands around one of her dad’s thumbs.
“Sarah,” you repeat, remembering whose name it was, whose name it is – whose name it has always been. “Sarah Miller.”
Joel’s shoulders lift. “What do you think? She look worthy of bein’ a Sarah?”
The rustle of tissue paper. Blue and green and purple tearing between your fingers. The funny fuzz of pom poms as your hands rummaged through the bag. Her hand swimming towards you, an orange foam fish riding the waves between her fingers. Bubbly sounds erupting from her lips.
Your girlish giggle. Her silly grin. Hopscotch along the sidewalk; stopping to look for cars before she’d walk you across the street. How much do I love you, baby girl?
More than the whole world, Mama.
“I love it,” you breathe, tears running to the corners of your mouth. “Sarah fucking Miller.”
“Sarah fuckin’ Miller,” Joel echoes; two wet lines the same as yours, curving down his cheeks. He shifts her into the crook of his arm.
You’re impossibly close. Your chin rests on his shoulder, foreheads brushing when you lean in to each other. His breath is hot on your lips, closer and closer and closer until –
He tastes like salt, rich with emotion. Salt, and then sweet when your tongue meets his. He lifts his free hand to cup your cheek, and your fingers link around his wrist.
And you know you shouldn’t be doing it – know this isn’t your man to be kissing. But in this room, where no one else can see – where it’s just you, him, and all the best parts of yourselves shaped into someone better – he feels like yours.
Just for a moment.
Joel takes the first week of Sarah’s life off work.
He spends a good twenty minutes on the phone to the contractor, talking more about the kid than he does the job. Her eyelashes, her fingernails, the way her legs scrunch anytime he lifts her up.
He’s besotted with the entire thing. And he tells everybody so.
He moves in with you both, stays in your guestroom. It’s a week of no sleep, no peace, and a total of three showers between you. Wearing the same clothes covered in spit-up and drool until one of you has the time or energy to do laundry.
It’s hard. It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever done. By your count, you’ve already cried three times to Joel – terrified you’re getting it all wrong.
But you’re doing it. Jesus God, you’re doing it.
You order takeout most nights. You can’t stand long enough to cook just yet, and you don’t trust Joel not to burn your fucking kitchen down – despite his protests. And it feels like, after everything your body’s given you, it deserves a greasy pizza and some chicken wings.
You rot on the couch together, watching shitty TV and arguing over reruns of Jeopardy! – until Sarah wakes and the whole thing begins again.
Joel loses the game of rock, paper, scissors tonight.
“Shh, baby girl. ‘s alright now, I gotcha,” he lulls, tucking her back in to her bassinet.
She fusses and stretches out; arms over her head, legs curled up. Her onesie is still a little too big – the socked feet all baggy, the sleeves rolled up her wrists.
He lingers for a moment as she drifts off, a hand stroking her tummy. Watching, always watching her. The rise and fall of her stomach, the puffs of breath from her nostrils, her lips still suckling away in her sleep.
“I swear I have a baby photo that looks just like her,” you say. “Same nose and everything.”
Joel clicks his teeth. “Got her looks from her mom. Lucky thing.”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you snort.
He drifts back over, sinking into the couch at your side. “Doin’ okay?” he asks, and you nod.
Every muscle in your body still feels like a ton weight. Your stomach is still swollen; there are still stitches between your legs. There are moments you can’t tell if you’re crying because of hormones, exhaustion, or joy.
Every time, it’s a combination of all three.
Life before feels so long ago – and it hasn’t even been a fortnight. But then you held her for the first time, and now – your arm misses the weight of her when she’s not in it. Your house feels eerily quiet when she’s not laughing, or whimpering, or screaming the fucking roof down.
You can feel your daughter growing up already, and she’s only ten days old.
On the mantelpiece, safe in a stippled gold frame, your mom beams down over her. The photo at least twenty years old, the memory even older. Laughing, the way she always was; nothing quite so funny as a joke frozen in time.
Joel prods you with his elbow. “She’d be proud of you, you know. Your mom.”
“Oh,” you scoff, “no, she’d be like, Holy shit. This kid totally kicked your ass.”
He chuckles. “Sure she did,” he shrugs, “she’s your kid.”
The TV babbles to itself across the room. In its glow, Joel meets your eye. A tiny, pearly fleck swimming in deep honey.
It’s familiar – each shade of bronze in his eyes, each thread of silver through his hair. Like you’ve mapped each and every line on his skin, collecting them like the sleepless hours between you.
Everything about him feels so normal. Burnt toast in the morning, a spoon clinking around a mug of coffee. The rustle of the newspaper, the sizzle of eggs in the pan, the baby snoring on your chest.
Everything – and yet nothing you’ve ever known.
“I miss her,” you whisper. “I miss my mom.”
His hand finds yours instantly. “I know, baby. I know you do.”
You slouch down, leaning on his shoulder, and close your eyes. Joel presses his lips to the crown of your head, his thumb looping around your knuckles.
Sarah gurgles in her sleep. She sighs – a satisfied little sound. Nothing has ever made more sense.
His voice rumbles against your skull. “Who sent the lilies?”
Your eyes flutter open. “Hm?”
Joel flicks his finger towards the window, towards a sprawl of speckled, cream flowers. “The lilies? They weren’t there this morning.”
“Oh…” You turn to look up at him, cringing.
He sees the flicker of her behind your eyes. Her lustrous curtain of hair, her perfect almond nails.
“Really?” Joel asks, mirroring your expression.
You nod, trying not to laugh. “From her and Kate. You were upstairs with Sarah when she came by. I offered to call you down, but – she just wanted to drop ‘em and go.”
“What did she…? Did she say anything?”
Your head shakes. “She just…she said congratulations, said she hoped we were okay. Then she got in her car and she left. I kinda figured things weren’t sunshine and roses, anyway. You haven’t fuckin’ seen her since Houston.”
He snorts, fingers massaging his eyes. “I was goin’ to tell you,” he mumbles into his palms, “I just…Honey, I don’t even know what day of the week it is right now. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” you mutter.
“Yes, I do,” he insists. His eyes flit over to Sarah, then back to you. “We haven’t really talked it through yet, me ‘n her. I called her a few days ago, we agreed it’s time. It – it’s past time. I shoulda called it months ago.”
“I guess,” you sigh. “Are you okay?”
Joel’s brow furrows. “’course I am. I got the most beautiful baby girl in the world,” and then, rolling his eyes, “you’re here.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you clip, batting his arm. “Vanessa could do way better, anyways.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
You squeeze his fingers, softly adding, “I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Joel.”
He stares down at your clasped hands. He looks tired, worn out. You figure it’s not just from the newborn. But he takes a deep breath, something the color of relief dawning on his skin, and looks you dead in the eye.
“I’m not.”
­“Hey, Duckie – can you say, Happy birthday, Daddy?”
A vinyl wobbles on the turntable – some acoustic record from when Joel was a teenager. There’s wrapping paper still crumpled beneath the coffee table; four plates with more crumbs than cake left, dotted around the room.
Tommy leans in, a lopsided party hat on his head, and tickles Sarah’s chin.
She blinks at him, unamused, then scrunches her little nose and turns back into your chest.
He sighs, straightening. “She don’t like her uncle Tommy all that much,” he grumbles, sulking back over to the couch. Maria puts a consoling arm around his shoulder.
You rest your lips on Sarah’s head, breathing in her sweet scent. Swaying back and forth, you tease, “She don’t like anyone all that much, not unless they’re her daddy.”
Joel’s head lifts and he smiles, eyes glistening. He watches you and Sarah dance; laughs when you twirl her around and she tips her head back, flashing a gummy grin.
“She’ll come around to ya,” he tells Tommy, wandering over to your side. “We all learned to, eventually.”
Tommy scoffs. “Very funny, old man. Jesus.”
Joel stoops down to let Sarah run her small hands through his beard. He catches her fingertips between his lips and pretends to nibble on them.
She giggles, squirming in your arms. Her fingers find the sweeps of hair on his forehead and, taking a fistful, she tugs.
“Christ,” Joel hisses, pulling back.
“That was on you this time,” you chuckle, pointing a finger. “You know she does that, and you still fall for it.”
Maria glances down at her watch. “Is that the time?” she asks, turning to Tommy. “We should really turn in.”
“Oh – right, right.” Tommy tips the last of his beer into his mouth. “We’re takin’ Mom to brunch tomorrow. Better get some goddamn rest.”
Joel hums, still massaging his hairline. “Hey,” he whispers, elbowing you. “Maybe I should take her over. She’s getting sleepy – ain’t you, little Duck?”
“Oh, yeah.”
Tommy stands and holds a hand out. “Why don’t you let Maria and I take her? We’ll tuck her in, keep an eye on her. We weren’t half bad the other day, while y’all were at work. And if she’s stayin’ at Joel’s tonight anyway…”
You glance to Joel, who shrugs. Something shaped like Sure.
“As long as you don’t mind,” you reply, bouncing the baby slowly. “Let me go grab her things.”
Joel’s hand slips across the small of your back as you pass, making for the stairs. He lingers at the bottom, watching until you turn into the nursery with Sarah in the crook of your arm.
You set her down in her crib and gather some of her favorites: a yellow blanket, a duck comforter, a rattle shaped like an elephant. She watches contentedly as you shuffle back and forth, staring when you lean over the wooden rail.
“You know how much I love you?” you whisper, curling a finger inside her fist. She squeezes, and you say, “More than the whole world.”
She grabs at the chain dangling from your neck, the letter S catching the light. Instead, she lifts your finger to her mouth. Her nails scratch light as a feather across your skin. Her gums are tiny and soft around your knuckle.
Everything about her is tiny and soft. Her sweeping eyelashes, her plushy cheeks. Her round tummy, and the squeals she lets free as you dot kisses and blow raspberries all over it. No matter how much she’s grown in three months, she’s still so tiny.
She’ll always be the smallest, sweetest thing you’ve ever known. And she’s all yours.
“Jesus, kid,” you sniff, swiping at your tears. You slip your hands around her back and prop her on your hip. “Alright, let’s go. Quit making your mom cry.”
The bag over your shoulder, you carry her out of the room and into the dark hallway. It’s quiet downstairs; nothing but the crackle of the record player, the distant chink of dishes in the kitchen.
That – and hushed voices in the living room.
“Joel,” Tommy says, over and over again. He’s trying to cut in between his brother’s rambling. Joel – listen to me. Just listen, for one second –”
You linger on the bottom step, trying to split Joel’s voice from Tommy’s. Trying to pluck the words out, over Maria’s humming from the next room.
“…and it ain’t that simple, Tommy it’s –”
“What ain’t simple about it? You have a –” Tommy says it through his teeth, “– you have a kid together, Joel. You really think she’s gonna –”
Sarah grabs the charm around your neck and shakes suddenly, rattling the chain.
You close your hand around hers, losing your balance. “Shhhhit, Duckie, you –”
Joel’s eyes snap to your figure as you step down. He clears his throat, leaning away from Tommy. “Hey – hey, darlin’.”
“Hey,” you reply. Bright. Chipper. Unclenching your fist to let your daughter shake your necklace some more.
She squeals with delight when she spots Joel across the room.
“She ready to go?” he asks, slinging a quick – telling – look at Tommy.
You look between the brothers, browns quirking. They look as guilty as each other: scratching their beards, staring at the furniture instead of you. “Uhuh,” you reply, tongue against your teeth. “Everything…everything okay?”
Tommy slaps his thighs as he stands. “Everything’s great, sweetheart. Sure as shit. Joel – you, uh…you got a key on ya?”
“Oh, yep.” Joel reaches into his pocket. He unhooks a silver key from the chain and drops it into his brother’s open palm.
Tommy calls for Maria. He sidesteps around you, face flushed and smiling.
She floats through from the kitchen, drying her palms on her jeans. “Where’s my baby duck?” she sings, reaching for Sarah.
You pass her over and she melts into her aunt’s arms, curling up into a little pink lump on her chest. “She just had a feed, like, twenty minutes ago, so – she should go down pretty well. And there are more bottles in Joel’s fridge, if you need ‘em.”
Maria nods, wrapping Sarah’s blanket around her. She lifts the bag strap from your shoulder and hands it to Tommy. “I’ll text you as soon as she’s down. Come on, Duckie, let’s get you to bed.”
Tommy leans over and squeezes your arm, winking as he follows his wife. He calls goodnight to Joel, lifting a pointed finger over his head, and closes the door behind them.
Things could not have gone smoother.
It’s suspicious as shit.
You turn when you hear Joel shifting.
“C’mon,” he utters, a pile of plates in one hand. “I ain’t leavin’ you with this mess.” He heads through to the kitchen, broad figure swaying.
The plates spill into the sink, water trickling over them. Joel hums to himself as he gets to work with a sponge in hand.
You linger in the living room.
Things have been good lately – peaceful. You’re in as much of a routine as Sarah will allow: a steady pattern of dropping her off and picking her back up, patchwork family dinners, daytrips whenever both of you can make them.
Your body is healing, pulling itself back together. You don’t have to think about being Mom anymore – she walks in stride with you. The world is painted a new shade of normal – one where you can do anything with a baby on your hip, one where love becomes your first language.
One where you swallow back the ache in your heart, for better or for worse. The only piece of you still fractured. The only wound left open.
Joel’s birthday cards lie flat on the coffee table. You pluck them up one by one – his parents’, Tommy and Maria’s, yours – and Sarah’s.
A messy splotch of a handprint, bright yellow paint smeared across half the fucking card (she hasn’t quite mastered self-control yet). A googly eye plastered to the bird’s chest; orange crayon for the beak and legs.
Sure, you took charge for most of the project – but when he opened it and saw his daughter’s little masterpiece, you caught him swiping his knuckle at the corner of his eye. He snuggled into her, perched on his lap, and whispered, Thank you, little Duckie.
You prop them along your mantelpiece, dotted around your mom’s photo. When you step back, looking from son to brother to…a good friend, you could almost pretend.
Almost pretend that they belong here, on this mantelpiece. There is no yours and his. Just one of everything; nothing doubled nor halved.
Almost pretend that he won’t collect them as he leaves, break into another teary laugh at the sight of the duck painting, and then kiss your cheek goodnight. Promise to have your daughter back in time to go swimming tomorrow morning.
Almost.
“Hey,” Joel calls, “did you, uh – did you hear Tommy talkin’ about Jackson?”
You slip into the kitchen, side by side with him at the sink. “Uh, yeah,” you reply, lifting a towel. “Moose, pine trees. Yep.”
“It sounds beautiful. You think we should take a trip up there sometime? Could be Sarah’s first vacation.”
“You mean the three of us?”
He shrugs, scrubbing a bowl in the water. “Sure. I don’t think Duckie would let one of us stay behind, do you? She’d scream the damn airport down,” he chuckles, looking back to the twinkling bubbles.
You hum. “Maybe.”
“You don’t feel like it?”
“No, I do. I just – I don’t know. Maybe someday.”
“Okay,” Joel says, nodding. “Put a pin in it.”
He passes you a dripping plate and you drag the towel over it, circling the pattern until the suds are wiped clean. And another, and another.
It feels awkward. It feels stiff. There’s something hanging between you, heavy on both your shoulders. A weight you haven’t felt around Joel in over a year.
You turn to him as he stacks the last plate on the draining board. “Is that what you were talking to Tommy about?”
Joel pauses. “You heard that, huh?”
“Only the part about having a kid. It’s none of my business, I know, I just –”
“Actually,” he clears his throat, “it’s plenty your business.”
He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. A deep breath, cheeks puffing as he exhales. His grip on the dish towel whitens his knuckles.
He’s…nervous. The same shade of gray he wore the night you went into labor.
He takes another unsteady breath.
“Joel?” you ask, head tilting. “Whatever it is, you can say it. I got whiskey, if that’ll make it easier. Probably tastes like shit, but…”
His expression cracks. His eyes twinkle, and he smiles. Only a little, but enough. Enough to let the words slip through.
“You know, that night at Tommy’s wedding was one of the best nights of my life.”
Your heartbeat thuds a bassline in your ears; the rush of your blood the squealing guitar. Skin tacky, moans caught between teeth. Laughter and lust tangling together in the air.
“Yeah?” you ask.
Joel nods. “Yeah. Lying there – talking, laughing, messin’ around. I don’t think I’ve ever laughed that hard in all my life. I could’ve stayed in that room with you forever.”
Your eyes start to sting. You look away.
“I thought I would regret it. I thought I should regret it. And I never did. But then,” he takes a deep breath, “the next day, I look out front, and my newspaper’s sittin’ on my lawn. And for two weeks straight, I kept checking – and there it was. I thought, Sure as shit, she regrets the whole thing. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
You shake your head. “I wanted to see you again. I missed – I missed you. Missed pissin’ you off.”
He laughs. “I missed you pissin’ me off. Missed that annoying as hell thud on my porch.”
“I didn’t know if you wanted me to – you know,” you admit, and Joel nods.
“We got pretty good at avoidin’ each other,” he grumbles. “And then – with Vanessa, I thought I’d be doin’ you a favor. Letting you off light.”
“You…you took her number to do me a favor?”
“Naw,” Joel says. “I took her number ‘cause her brother in-law has a lumber company, and I had a closet to build. I was drunk, I was an idiot, and I brought it up to her at the wedding. By the time I thought it through, you ‘n I weren’t speakin’.”
You stare at him, jaw slack. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
He shakes his head. He edges closer to you. Voice low, he says, “I shouldn’t’ve gone out on that first date with her. I shouldn’t’ve done any of it. I should’ve talked to you about what I was feeling.”
“Well, maybe we both should’ve,” you mutter, wringing your hands. “I wasn’t exactly the best at it, either.”
His head tips, considering. “Can I tell you now?”
You glance over to him. “Tell me what, Miller?”
“Tell you…tell you that I love you,” he whispers.
It steals the breath from your lungs. One clean swipe.
He nods to himself, then – certain of it – and says it again. “I do, darlin’. I love you.”
Your heart begins to hammer. Tears spill over onto your cheeks, dripping from your jaw.
“And, look –” Joel takes your wrists, “– I got no right to say any of that, I know. I put you through a hell of a lot, these last few months – and that kills me. But if you’ll let me, I swear to you – I’ll make it up to you. I’ll take care of you for the rest of my life.”
You look up. His cheeks are dappled, too – glistening with tears. “Joel…” you weep.
He cups your jaw. “Listen to me. What we’ve had, the last three months – I want it all the time. I want you, and I want Duck. I want the three of us under one roof. I want to sleep in the same bed as you.”
You breathe a shuddered laugh. Your hands fall over his wrists. Keep talking, you mouth, bottom lip trembling.
“I want to get married, or not,” Joel says. “I want to show up to Tommy and Maria’s anniversary party late, ‘cause Duck couldn’t pick which shoes she wanted to wear. I want to have more kids, take ‘em on vacation.”
“Wyoming?” you sniff.
“Wyoming,” he repeats. “I want…I want all of it, baby. You ‘n me. I want you ‘n me, more than anything in the world. And if I’m too late, then you can tell me. Tell me, and I swear on my life I will never mention it again.”
Your hands curve over his. His strong knuckles, worked and weathered and worn by his years. Down to his wrists – the tatty strap on his ages-old watch, the dark hair peppered along his arms.
“I love you so much, baby. So much that it drives me insane. You drive me…fuckin’ insane.”
“Oh, fuck you,” you whisper, balling your fists against his chest.
Joel laughs, nose brushing against yours. “Yeah,” he sniffs, “I figured you’d say som’ like that.”
“I love you, too,” you mumble, linking your arms around his neck. “Shit, I love you.”
“Ain’t that a thing?” he says, and his lips are on yours.
It’s been a year. A year since the first time you felt him – lips soft as velvet, sweet with alcohol and something stronger. His tongue and yours, his teeth and yours. Every part of you clashing with every part of him.
And goddamn, you’ve missed it.
Joel follows you upstairs, pinning you to the wall by your bedroom door. White heat flooding through your veins, he kneels before you and pulls you onto his tongue.
He’s hungry.
He laps at you as though you’ll be gone in the morning. As though he won’t wake up tangled in you, breathing in your scent, lips on your skin.
Dusk seeps in at the edges of your vision; daylight draining from the sky. It’s dark, too dark to see him clearly, but you feel him fucking everywhere.
His beard grazes the inside of your thigh. He kisses where he scratches your skin. He holds your hips steady, tongue dipping in and out.
“You know how fuckin’ sweet you taste?” he growls, slipping inside again.
He looks so good between your legs. Like he was made for it – made for you. All yours, in ways you never really understood until now.
He brings you to the edge with his tongue flat against your clit. Holding your hips firm against his mouth, groaning with you as you fall.
You come with a broken moan. Hips stutter to a halt, legs fall wide open. The warmth in your belly spills over and rushes to every corner of your body.
Joel moans, tongue still lapping as your cunt pulses all over him. “Good fuckin’ girl,” he slurs, watching you come undone.
He stands, a chaste kiss to your lips, and then parts them with his tongue. “Taste good?” he mumbles, kissing you gently.
Yeah, you think, moaning against him, it tastes fucking good.
He spreads you out on your mattress and kisses what feels like every square inch of your body. You giggle at the feeling of his lips behind your ear; moan when they close around your nipple.
Your back arches; little lightning bolts as he pulls the buds to a peak. Your fingers knot through his hair; hissing at the meeting of pain and pleasure between Joel’s lips.
“I love you,” you whisper, when he settles between your legs. You don’t know that you’ve felt something so true in all your life.
He smiles. Your fingers trace the lines at his eyes.
“Come here,” he says, and pulls your hips to meet his.
You curve a hand around his neck, glancing down at your open legs. “Looks a little different to the last time you saw her.”
Joel shakes his head, licking his lips. “Beautiful, baby. She looks so goddamn beautiful.”
Each movement is careful, deliberate. He notches his tip at your hole and pauses until you’re looking at him again.
And then he pushes in.
He slips an arm under your head; the other holding your thigh on his waist. He kisses you as you stretch around him. He still tastes like salt and slick.
You gasp, teeth gritting around a hiss. “Fuck,” you whimper, turning in to his chest.
“Easy, easy,” Joel coos, voice rumbling against your temple. “Catch your breath. Doin’ so good.”
“It’s not sore,” you tell him, nodding for him to move again. “It’s…it’s just…different.”
“Tighter,” he groans, eyes on your cunt as it draws his cock in.
You agree, “Tighter.”
He catches you in another kiss, his tongue slipping between your lips. “Feel so good, sweet girl. Breathe. ‘m right here.”
It’s never felt like this before. This gentle, this tender.
You have never felt like this before. Broken open, stitched back together. Your heart split into two – whole again each time his body meets yours.
Joel catches your moans on his tongue. He steadies his pace; rocking into you over and over. Laughing against your lips; your fingers intertwined with his.
“Feel good?” he pants.
Your head rolls back. “Mhm.”
“Take it, baby. Such a tight little thing.”
“Joel,” you cry, “I’m close.”
His teeth nip at your neck. “Shit,” his hips jump, “attagirl. Just like that.” He thrusts into you harder, bleeding the color from your vision.
You pull his lips to yours, foreheads tacky. Joel’s eyes gloss over.
I love you, he breathes.
And the world whitens.
He pulls you against his chest when you come back around. Shifts up the headboard, skin all sticky and warm. He kisses your temples, kisses your shoulders, kisses your knuckles.
You melt into his grasp, turning to look up at him. You run your fingers over his lips, through his damp hair. Just staring. Drinking him all in.
“You were right next door, the entire time,” you whisper.
He runs a thumb across your cheek. “Yep.”
“Do you think we wasted too much time?”
Joel’s lip turns. “Nah,” he says. “We found our way.”
“Needed a little help, though.”
He scoffs, tongue between his teeth. “I’m sure she’ll hold it against us forever.”
You think of that evening in August. The last bow of the sun before your world changed forever. Of deals struck and promises made. Of satin on your fingertips – newspaper ink and duck egg silk.
You think of that photograph on your mantelpiece. Bright eyes watching every second of it. A smile on her face the entire time.
You laugh to yourself. Joel looks down and kisses your swollen cheek.
“We should go,” he taps your thigh, “got a little duck who’ll be wonderin’ where her mama and daddy are.”
The church tower rings out twice as the truck purrs between graves.
Joel pulls up under the shade of a sycamore, tires rolling to a halt. Sarah kicks her feet, her heels thudding against her car seat.
“Mama,” she presses a sticky finger to the back window, “flowers.”
“Yeah, baby,” you call over your shoulder, hugging your own graveside gift a little tighter in your arms. “Lots of ‘em, huh?”
“Yeah,” your daughter quietly considers, then kicks her seat again.
Joel waits patiently for you to give him the go ahead. He slips a hand around your knee, looking ahead at the rows of headstones. So patient, so gentle.
Your chest swells, a deep breath filling your lungs, and you nod. “Alright.”
“Sure?” he asks. “Take as long as you want, darlin’.”
But if you wait any longer, you’ll never leave. The paper wrap crinkles in your arms. “You take Duck,” you reply, “I’ll take…”
Joel lifts your hand, placing a soft kiss between your knuckles. “You got it. We’ll walk on.”
He leaves you in the truck to collect yourself. He unbuckles Sarah and sets her loose, following her across the grass with his hands in his pockets.
Her light-up sneakers flash as she sprints; head tossed back, toothless smile pointed to the sun. She turns back to her dad, her little hand fitting perfectly into his.
Made for each other.
You hook your fingers around the handle and leave the truck.
Their grave is a short walk down a grassy slope, sheltered by another towering tree. Its leaves flutter down around you as you near the stone; stray petals which catch in the breeze and lead the way.
You kneel down, the grass dry and prickly through your jeans. “Hi, Mom,” you whisper, sweeping some dust from the base of the grave. “Hi, Dad.”
Your grandma picked this spot. She’s long gone – laid to rest elsewhere with a grandfather you never met – so you try to visit as often as you can. Freshen the flowers, brighten up the stone.
It fucking sucks, but someone’s gotta do it.
You peel the brown paper from the bouquet, exposing the soft colors Sarah picked back in the florist. They fit perfectly on the stone, right beneath the words Devoted parents.
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a feeling that wraps itself around your throat and steals any other words – until a flash of pink catches your attention.
“Duckie,” Joel calls, following her between graves. “Hey. This is a cem…Hey, Duck, listen – this is a cemetery, we gotta be – Sarah!”
You stifle a laugh, watching him jog after the hoodie tied around her waist. He swipes for her hand and she dodges him, ducking between graves faster than his mid-fifties joints can turn him.
There’s no one else here – it’s only you. And it’s a quiet enough place as it is, so – you let her laugh. Let him chase her, and let her sneakers light the place in pink. What else is there to do?
“Sorry it’s been a little while,” you tell your parents, eyes still on your man.
He’s kneeling now, Sarah on his thigh, in front of a tall, cross-shaped stone. They’re pointing at the words on the stone, her inquisitive eyes studying each one.
“I know I said I’d come visit for Dad’s birthday, but I guess things got busy – what with the move and all. We’re still living out of boxes. But the girls’ rooms are almost done – we just gotta paint ‘em.”
You look back down to the stone. Your mom’s name carved deep into spotted marble, your dad’s underneath. One awful date to tie them both together.
Dad probably heard Duck’s first squeal and turned away; gone back to whatever boring activity he might get up to in the afterlife. But your mom, you know for certain, is sat with her chin on the heel of her palm. Watching her mini-me trace the shapes of words, squirming when Joel presses his lips to her temple and whispers hints to her.
She’s probably smiling, making some comment about how big Sarah’s getting. How smart she is, how funny. How she must keep you and Joel on your toes – and goddamn, she’s right.
“Joel’s been working on the kitchen,” you continue. “I left my phone in the truck, but you should see it, Mom. He got these marble countertops, these little brushed-gold handles. He wrote our names on the wall before he tiled it, so whoever remodels after we’re gone will find that. The four of us.”
“M-meh-mem-orr-mem-or-ree?” Sarah tilts her head.
Joel nods. “Memory, yeah. Good job, Duck.”
“Duckie’s good,” you tell your mom. “She’s top of her class in – well, everything. Really wiping the floor with all the other first-graders. She’d have been your favorite – I know that much. And you’d have been hers.
“She’s gonna be some kind of lawyer, we think. Social justice and all that. She likes to be a woman of the people. Always talkin’ back to Joel – she hardly cuts him any slack, these days,” you laugh.
“He’s good, too – Joel. Working hard, as usual. Tommy and Maria visited last week – they brought Buckley, and now Duck won’t stop goin’ on about us getting a dog.”
You chance a glance over the stone, making sure the pair are out of earshot when you add, “Don’t tell her, but we called the pound last night. We’re heading there tomorrow while she’s at school to pick one out for her birthday. Joel’s giddier than I think Sarah’s gonna be.”
Joel’s carrying Duck now, wandering down a wobbly row of graves.
She halts him by pointing to one. “N-eh-v-eh-never…fff-or-g-for–”
He stares at her, a grin breaking across his lips. “Sound it out, that’s it. ‘s a big word, baby girl. You got it.”
The world seems to blur around them. The birds sing, a light melody from overhead. The green trees sway across the blue of the sky; the straight soar of cars on the highway. It all fades into the background, behind the two of them – wandering from shade into brilliant sun.
Your family. Your man, your blood – and everything in between. The little girl who brought it all together in the end – leading her dad by hand over knolls and broken stone, chasing butterflies, and asking what eh-teh-err-nal means.
“Means forever,” Joel says, kneeling beside her. “’s how long I’m gonna love you for.”
“And Nel?”
“And Nel.”
“And Mama?”
“And Mama.”
Sarah runs her hands through his beard, swaying side to side. “But me the most,” she concludes, nodding.
Joel hms, biting back a laugh. He lifts his chin, asks the little girl whether or not he’s going gray.
She has the same ridiculous laugh you do. The same snort you used to find so embarrassing, until you heard it come from her.
Just watching them stokes the already burning fire in your ribcage – the warmth flooding around your heart. He’s so good at it – being a dad.
Was he ever anything else, before he was a father? You can’t remember a time you didn’t wake up next to him, wrapped up in his arms, or with one of his kids burrowed between your bodies. It all feels so long ago, now.
He wanted to do everything. He’d lie with you between his legs, holding your half-sleeping form upright while you fed her. He’d race home after work specially to bathe her. He picked up any and every single duck-themed thing that he came across.
And what were you? Mom felt like such a fucking longshot. So out of your reach that you couldn’t understand the meaning of the word.
But there are days when she says it – Sarah, looking up at you with Joel’s twinkling eyes and a smirk which matches yours – and it’s like you’ve been waiting your whole life to hear it. Like you’ve been waiting your whole life for her.
Well. Her, and her little sister.
“And, uh – another thing,” you say, reaching for the plastic handle of a car seat. “I brought somebody for you to meet.”
A clumsy fist shoots up to shake a speckled dinosaur toy – the brown spheres of its eyes catching the sunlight. She squeals with delight when you unbuckle her, kicks her legs the same way her sister always did.
“She’s a little nervous, ain’t you, Nel?” you whisper, laughing at her gummy smile and tiny, socked feet. “She spit up on herself on the way here, but – I think you’re gonna love her.”
You perch the baby on your thigh, same as Joel did with Sarah, and she wraps her fingers around one of yours. You wiggle it – waving to your mom’s name, to the petals gently fluttering in the breeze.
“Mom,” you sniff, “this is Ellie.”
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nightqueen1221 · 8 months
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hey!! how you doing??
i have a small little request, if that’s alright! Alastor x a Fallen Angel S/O? please and thank you!!
hope you have a good rest of your day!!
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I'm guess anon got the request idea from my other post, so if you want to see Alastor and Charlie (separate) x Nephalem!Reader. It's here.
-Interesting, very interesting indeed.
-Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?
-Being one of God's angels only to be tossed aside and down to Hell. What have you done to be banished?
-Honestly, depending on what you have done he could have a newfound respect for you.
-But he would phrase the question in a super flirtatious way such as, "Why would God throw away a beautiful angel such as yourself?"
-He doesn't like being touched but will touch you, so having any angel wings or halo he will poke or prod at. Regardless if it's broken or burned.
-Do you prefer Heaven or Hell? Heaven is, well, Heaven. But Hell you can do whatever you desire.
-It might even change how he views Charlie's plan to make demons angels. Most likely not since it is known that angels can become demons.
-Speaking of that, he of course views it as a benefit at first. Lucifer was God's favorite angel and is now a very powerful being in charge of Hell.
-Yes, he does try to use you at first but he does genuinely try to become your friend. But that's only because you could be plenty more powerful than him. Other than that's he's cool with it.
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AITA for instantly banning someone from my Discord server for using AI to “inspire” art?
🎨⚙️
I (16F) have a small Discord server for friends and friends of friends. We usually share creative works with each other there, like one friend makes music, another writes, I draw, etc.
So M (14F) was invited by a friend about a year ago and has been pretty chill. She’s always been super enthusiastic about my art, complimenting it a lot, etc. She started posting art a bit after joining, and it was clear she was a beginner. At one point though, her drawings jumped from plain sketches to stuff with backgrounds, etc.
Last week another member/friend O (15?NB) asked where she got the idea for a background of a drawing from because it was unique. M just casually said she used AI to generate images she wanted and then drew them in her own style for the backgrounds of her drawings. Like “calm blue alien landscape,” “underwater coral cartoon style,” etc.
I kind of hopped in here and asked why she would do that because AI art is stolen. M said she just wanted to “have art as cool as mine” and was sad about her skill level, which seemed like BS and guilt tripping to most of us. I banned her and blocked her right after without saying anything else.
O’s reaction was basically “wtf” and they thought she didn’t deserve to be banned for that. I replied that I had made it clear I despised AI art for stealing artists works, and even if M was redrawing them it was still theft and the AI was still robbing hard effort from artists. O said I was being unreasonable and has been silent since.
I asked a couple IRL friends who said I overreacted, but nearly all of my online friends agree with me. Maybe this isn’t the most unbiased platform to ask, but it’s better than Reddit. So AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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bedoballoons · 9 months
Text
─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─
A/n: Double post today because I have wanted to post this for days now! Super fluffy! Slight kiss stealing mentioned!
Requests/asks open!
{༻~Pocky challenge in fontaine~༺}
(Includes: Lyney, Navia, Freminet, Lynette, Neuvillette, and Clorinde!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Lyney:
Lyneys bright lavender eyes were trained on you, or more rather the pocky stick that hung slightly out of your mouth, dangling in front of him and tempting him to take a bite. Surely you wouldn't mind if it was just one little taste...he thought, as he leaned in closer to you, his movement making you turn towards him in curiosity. Your faces suddenly just inches away from eachother, causing a blush to spread across your face while he smiled mischievously and started to nibble away at the other end of your pocky stick.
Getting closer and closer to you with each stolen bite, your heart absolutely racing as he got to the part that was at the cusp of your mouth. You could feel his lips against yours for just a split second, his eyes shining with victory as he pulled away...leaving you absolutely flustered.
𑁍༄Navia:
When Navia had originally offered to buy you a pack of pocky, you didn't have any ulterior motives, you were just kinda hungry...and yet the second the box of delicious chocolate covered sticks made its way into your hand...you couldn't help but think of sharing them in the most romantic way possible. "Navia, want to share my pocky with me? Theres this challenge I've always wanted to try and since we are partners I want to try it with you first." You said casually, your heart skipping a beat as her golden yellow eyes met yours and that oh so sweet smile flashed into view.
"Of course! What's the challenge?" Her voice was sugary sweet like honey and the thought of possibly getting a kiss from someone so kind made your face blush, "We both start at one end of the pocky, taking bits till one of us reaches the middle first or pulls away." Her face blushed slightly as you spoke, her cheeks a soft pink as she nodded waiting patiently for you to offer the pocky and begin.
"Chocolate or stick?" You asked nervously, holding the pocky up to her while your heart started to beat harder in your chest. "Hmmm chocolate!" She gently took the pocky from you, putting the chocolate side in her mouth and leaning in so you could reach the other end, the two of you taking small bites till the tips of your noses were touching. Your faces each flashing red as you closed the gap, the sweet taste of chocolate on your lips as the two of you pulled away.
𑁍༄Freminet:
(I use the nickname Fremmy here...its cute okay!)
"Hi Fremmy! Whatcha working on?" You asked with a smile, leaning in slightly to see some type of mechanical machine, Freminets hands busy putting the pieces together like a puzzle only he could understand. "Oh hello...it's a prop for Lyney and Lynettes magic show, I... can't tell you exactly what for though. I'm...sworn to secrecy." He pulled away from his work table, a light blush on his face as he let you exam his newest creation...and despite looking at it for a couple minutes...you had absolutely no idea what it was.
"Well it looks cool whatever it is..., anyways! Remember how you said you'd never had pocky before? Well I got some and I was thinking we could do that challenge I told you about." You held up the box of sweets for him, watching as his light blush deepened to a dark red colour and he looked away shyly, "I-i...um. O-okay." You giggled as you opened the packaging, holding the pocky for him to take, chocolate side pointed in his direction.
"Remember the rules?" He nodded as he put the candy in his mouth, letting you have the other side while his heart pounded in his chest...but before you could even take a second bite..he pulled away out of nervousness, apologizing profusely and congratulating you on your easy win. In the end you sat down beside him on a nearby couch, sharing the sticks between the two of you the normal way while he talked about future inventions.
𑁍༄Lynette:
"You want to...try the pocky challenge with me?" Lynettes monotone voice had the slightest hint of curiousity, her violet eyes on the box of treats you'd gotten only moments earlier and her face ever so lightly pink, she had never tried the challenge before and the idea of sharing the new experience with you...was like a magic wish come true. "Mhm! Do you want the coated side or the stick?" You asked holding the pocky out for her to examine, ultimately she choose the breadstick side watching you intently as you put the chocolate end in your mouth.
Before you could properly take a bite she was at the other end, munching away rhythmically at a incredibly fast pace, till before you knew it her face was right up against yours, your eyes meeting hers your cheeks turned bright red. Her soft lips grazed yours as she took the final bite, pulling away with a small satisfied smile. "Seems I won...I enjoy this game. Shall we try again?"
𑁍༄Neuvillette:
Neuvillette was silent, his cheeks ever so lightly pink as you explained the rules of the pocky challenge, the hidden truth of it clear as day. He knew that if he agreed to said challenge, he could end up receiving a kiss from you and the thought of such a beautiful thing made his heart skip a beat, but...would he be able to stop himself at just one? Perhaps it would be better to decline...and ask for a kiss instead, then his motives would be clear at least...
"Neuvillette?" You smiled, patiently waiting for his response, unaware of the slight dilemma he was having with himself. "Apologies, I was lost in thought...I suppose a challenge would be alright, as long as everything is legal." His eyes met yours as you giggled happily, handing him the chocolaty dessert and watching in excitement as he put the coated end in his mouth, his blush darkening with each moment.
You took the breadstick part in your mouth, nibbling away at it slowly and savouring it's yummy flavour on your tongue as your heart rate increased, your face growing warmer as you got closer and closer to him. With only the smallest bit of pocky left between the two of you, you paused waiting to see what he'd do next and humming in delight as he took the last bite, closing the gap. Your lips touched for just a moment and just as he had expected, it wasn't enough...his hands holding your face as he kissed you again...preferring you over the candy.
𑁍༄Clorinde:
Clorinde sighed quietly, unsure wether to agree to share your snack with you...and possibly end up in a situation that would leave her blushed and quite possibly falling even harder for you or to disagree and play it safe, but always wonder if she should have said yes. Eventually her violet eyes met yours, her brows turned down slight as if she was annoyed, "I agree to your challenge, but I do hope you know...I'll show no mercy. As a champion duelist I take no challenge lightly."
"Yay! Do you want the chocolate end of the pocky or the breadstick part? I'm fine with either." You held up your snack for her, watching curiously as she examined it carefully, as if it could possibly be poisoned...even though you'd already eaten some of them. "I'll take the part without chocolate, thank you." You nodded in response, cheerfully putting the chocolate side in your mouth and wiggling the stick in front of her while she raised a eyebrow at you.
She leaned in, taking small bites of the pocky and finding it rather difficult to concentrate on the treat itself as she became acutely aware of how close your face was to hers. The gap growing smaller as you both ate away at the yummy treat, until your noses were touching and she took the last bite, pulling away so quickly that you were still left in the same stance in shock. "I win." She said quietly, her face blushed red and her lips touched with a bit of melted chocolate,...
"How about 2 outta 3?"
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧
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mittensmorgul · 7 months
Text
Hi everyone! I just need like two minutes of your time.
Have you enjoyed all the scripts that the @spnscripthunt has posted over the last few years? Have you screenshotted them and written meta and made gif sets or just cried over your favorite scenes again? Have you supported the group in any way?
Would you like to OWN one of those scripts, autographed by the stars of Supernatural?
Maybe you miss participating in GISH, doing some wacky fun good in the world and the style of fundraising we learned there-- that many people making small contributions can come together to change lives.
Well, we are down to our last little stack of scripts now, with no new scripts coming on the horizon. This project has been thrilling, and we're trying to send it all off with a bang. We're giving away the final portion of the collection, all signed by the cast and crew, and hopefully doing a little good in a very big way.
We picked RIPMedicalDebt as our final charity, because of the exponential power of increasing how far our donations will go. $10 donated pays of $1,000 of medical debt, free and clear with no tax burden to the recipients! With a small donation, you could literally change someone's life.
We get that folks outside the US might not understand how completely messed up the US healthcare system is, so for some perspective, 65% of people who file for bankruptcy in this country do so directly because of crushing medical debt. We know personally how horrifying the medical insurance system is in this country. One illness, one accident, can be financially devastating. But we can save a few people from having it completely destroy their lives.
We got the idea from John Oliver. This entire episode is eye-opening about debt in the US in general, but the part we're specifically interested it begins around 17 minutes in.
youtube
We're already a quarter of the way to our goal! Thank you to everyone who's already donated! What we need now is to spread the word!
If you've spent any time at all enjoying the work we've done, the scripts we've collected and shared with fandom, we're hoping you'll consider sharing our posts widely with anyone who might be interested. Our contact network has been demolished as twitter collapses (and historically the vast majority of our contributors have come from twitter), and we're practically begging just for a signal boost.
All the details on how to donate, and then enter the raffle can be found right here:
You can also see all the prizes we'll be making available, too! And if for some reason you're not interested in a prize and just would like to support the campaign, that's fine too, of course!
(but the prizes are super cool... at least we think so...)
You only have until November 5, 2023 to enter the raffle, and our final group of prizes will unlock when we hit $5000 donated (which could pay off half a million dollars in medical debt!)
Please help us spread the word, and good luck!
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inuiiwonderland · 21 days
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Hewwo :3 sooo I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing hcs for the characters' reaction to reader(MC) being a 10-12 year old girl?? Like a slightly bratty, but endearing and energetic type. Think preppy Sephora girl💀 that would be super great, don't push urself tho💚
Twst characters with a 12 y/o Mc!
A/n: Hellooo! So sorry for the wait but here it is! You didn’t tell me which characters so I hope you don’t mind about the ones that I picked!🤍
Characters: Vil, Ace, And riddle!
Platonic! Twst x fem!reader
-
Vil Schoenheit
“Aren’t you too young to be wearing that?” “And aren’t you too old to be wearing that ton of makeup?”
Yeah vil didn’t like the slight attitude you had when you two first met.
But after getting to know you better during the VDC and after his overblot, you two became good buddies.
He treats you like a little sibling so just know that he will check up on you every now and then. (Especially if you’re out with the first year gang, he doesn’t want you to get in trouble or worse, hurt)
Will scold you from time to time when you act slightly bratty to him or anyone else. He can’t have you acting like that to anyone and will make sure you are respectful.(If it’s neige though…he might encourage you from the sidelines…)
Definitely will take you out to buy some clothes. Seriously headmage, how can you have a young child running around with used up/torn clothes? The media will for sure have a field day with this if they were to find out.
Shows you how to do make up. BUT, he still thinks you’re too young to be wearing it so he will only do it when he wants to experiment or when you want to take pictures together. (Which will only be light makeup)
Has rook look after you when he’s too busy to do it himself. You are a magic less girl from an unknown world so of course he’s going to be scared for your safety.
Makes sure you are stocked up with sanitary products. Big brother vil will make sure you are doing alright and have everything you need.
Girls night after a long day or exam week!
Tries not to post you too much on his magicam. He either posts you on close friends OR has a secret magicam account that only his close friends + you know about. He can’t have you being bothered by paparazzi or crazy obsessive fans.
Ace trappola
“Whose annoying little sister is this?” “Whose dumb son is this?”
Yeah…you and ace did not get along at first.
The two of you cannot go a second without arguing with one another about random stuff.
But after some time. The two of you get close and tada! You now have an annoying protective older brother ready to fight anyone who dares to insult/hurt you!
You two are a NIGHTMARE when you guys are together.
You guys will tease and make fun of people when the two of you are together.
PRANKS. DEAR LORD THE FREAKING PRANKS.
Poor deuce is a victim because of all the pranks you and ace pulled on him.
You guys both got collared by riddle this one time because the two of you decided it was going to be a good idea to switch riddles shampoo with pink hair dye.
He’s the type to literally burp or fart on you when you’re trying to do homework or just scrolling through twisttok.
Like it’s not even funny but HE thinks it’s the most hilarious thing in all of twisted wonderland.
And you think it’s the most annoying and disgusting thing ever.
Shares his snacks with you but starts complaining the moment the others asks for some.
He always makes sure you are safe when you guys are facing another overblot.
Invites you to his games and always brags about how awesome and cool he is. (Typical older brother behavior)
Will steal your snacks when you are not looking. Hey! He shares his food with you so it’s only fair you do the same.
Movies Nights with the first year gang is a must! Will literally laugh and record you as you scream and jump at every jump scare the movie has. (You always smack or throw a pillow at him. Demanding for him to delete it)
You force him to wear face masks and have a girls night with you. Will complain and whine but stills does it anyway to make you happy.
Riddle Roseheart
“Excuse me but that was very rude of you” “Eh? Why is a child trying to scold me”
Instant collar
Riddle will not tolerate such behavior and disrespect. Especially from a child!
Will take some time for him to warm up to you.
The constant rule breaking and the talk back was enough to turn him red and collar you every chance he gets.
But once he starts warming up to you, he stops and starts to treat you like a little sister.
You also stop with the rule breaking and the talk back. (Welll you stopped talking back and you TRY not to break as many rules)
Will help you study for any upcoming test or exams.
He can’t have you failing and having poor grades. So you better thank him for the good grades you currently have.
Invites you to unbirthday parties.
You for some reason love painting the roses red. So when you’re over at heartsalbyul, you help with painting the roses.
You wanted to make riddle happy so you spent a whole month learning the 810 rules of the Queen of hearts to make him happy.
And boy was he happy
Literally almost shed tears of happiness
Ace should learn a thing or two from you
Buys you cute tea cup sets! And also tried baking a tart for you with the help of Trey. (It turned out alright!)
Also protective of you
Gets mad when Crowley has you running around doing errands for him which he can clearly do HIMSELF.
You give him a heart attack every time you are out with the first year gang. He has both ace and deuce promise him nothing bad will happen to you when you are out with them. Or else it will be an instant collar.
Let’s you play and help him take care of the hedgehogs
-
A/n: This was so fun to write! Sorry if some are ooc🥲
133 notes · View notes
oftlunarialmoon · 5 months
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Ciao lovelies! I have written before on the topic of Age Regression many times, from explaining what Age Regression is, to Age Regression Self-Care, to Age Regression Journaling. I never explicitly said before now, but I, myself, am an age regressor to cope with stress (and some other mental health reasons). The reason why I have officially decided to come forward and say so is because I feel that I want to keep writing posts on the topic of age regression, some with personal experience perhaps, so I want to be open with you all and let you know why I continue to write on this topic. I’ve also noticed some of this blog’s audience is made up of age regressors like myself, and I want to provide you all with some content from a safe, welcoming, and open-minded source. All that being said, today I’ve decided to write down 101 activity ideas for Age Regressors/ Things to Do When Bored, Age Regression edition. Please be sure to let me know in the comments (yes, you can even comment anonymously!) if you like these ideas, please be sure to tell me your favorite!
101 ACTIVITIES FOR AGE REGRESSORS
Outside Activities for Summer
1.       Play on a swing-set!
2.       Play hopscotch!
3.       Color with chalk!
4.       Build Fairy houses with materials you find outside!
5.       Take pictures of your toys in nature! This works especially well for dinosaur toys, animal toys, et, because they look like they’re meant to be in nature!
6.       Jump rope!
7.       Go swimming!
8.       Go fishing with a net and play catch and release!
9.       Go to a beach and find cool seashells!
10.   Read a book outside in the sun!
11.   Go for an ice cream!
Outside Activities for Fall
12.   Find leaves and flowers and press them into a journal. You can also do Leaf rubbings, where you put a piece of paper over a leaf and use a crayon to rub over it to get the imprint of the leaf on the paper!
13.   Carve a pumpkin!
14.   Go to a pumpkin patch and take lots of pics among the pumpkins! You can even pick out one to take home and make into a Jack-O-Lantern (like #12)!
15.   Collect cool leaves and make a leaf arrangement/wreath!
Outside Activities for Winter
16.   Build a snowman!
17.   Build a snow-fort!
18.   Have a snowball fight!
19.   Try to catch snowflakes on your tongue!
20.   Make snow angels!
21.   Play hide and seek in the snow!
Outside Activities for Spring
22.   Collect flowers and make bouquets!
23.   Make flower crowns!
24.   Play tag with some friends!
25.   Weave grass into cool shapes!
26.   Collect cool rocks/gemstones…You can even pretend to be a dragon who’s collecting rocks for their hoard!
Indoor Activities for Any Season
27.   Redecorate your room!
28.   Clean your room! (I know, bleh, but if you clean then you’ll have a clean slate for #27!)
29.   Change your phone’s wallpaper/lockscreen (check out our Instagram Highlight for some of ours!)
30.   Play with makeup!
31.   Try out new hairstyles!
32.   Play dress up!
33.   Play with some dolls!
34.   Play pretend! You could pretend to be a teacher for your dolls/toys, or even have your stuffies go on super cool adventures with you!
35.   Craft! You can make accessories, décor, toys, clothes, anything! Check out our DIY tag for lots of fun crafts!
36.   Read some kid books!
37.   Stim! I like crinkles when I’m small, and I also like slime and flappy hands!
38.   Play with squishies!
39.   Walk around a store and look at all the toys and kid stuff!
40.   Go on a Dollar Store shopping spree! You can get a lot of stuff at a dollar store for under like $20!
41.   Color in some cool pictures!
42.   Design a new OC (Original Character) 
43.   Draw some comics! They can be of yourself or of your OC’s!
44.   Cosplay your OC’s/any character you like!
45.   Do a photoshoot!
46.   Make a sensory bottle!
47.   Set up a dollhouse!
48.   Make beaded bracelets!
49.   Make yourself a snack!
50.   Or a meal!
51.   Bake some cookies (just be careful with the hot oven, okay?)
52.   Have a dance party with your stuffies!
53.   Make a playlist to regress to!
54.   Find new regression YouTubers!
55.   Play some video games! I love Slime Rancher , Animal Crossing, and more!
56.   Play with some phone apps! I love Animal Crossing Pocket Camp, Pastel Girl, and Pokémon Go!
57.   Try to mix your own perfume!
58.   Design a picture using glitter!
59.   Draw some fashion designs!
60.   Start an age regression journal! 
61.   Practice some age regression self-care!
62.   Make a self-care box!
63.   Make figures from modeling clay!
64.   Paint your nails!
65.   Give your stuffies/dolls a makeover!
66.   Find cute regression music! 
67.   Make posters for your room!
68.   Make gifts for your friends!
69.   Find a new penpal!
70.   Write letters to your pen-pal!
71.   Start a sticker scrapbook!
72.   Open some blind-bags!
73.   Watch some toy youtubers. Our YouTube Channel has some toy videos, my other favorites are Cookie Swirl C and My Froggy Stuff!
74.   Make your own YouTube Channel!
75.   Create a mystery to solve with your stuffies!
76.   Solve a Crossword Puzzle!
77.   Solve a Wordsearch!
78.   Finish a puzzle!
79.   Design your own puzzle!
80.   Make an escape room for your toys!
81.   Paint something!
82.   Watch cute anime like Himouto Umaru Chan!
83.   Watch cute shows on Netflix like Twelve Forever or Hilda!
84.   Watch fun shows on Hulu like Gravity Falls!
85.   Go to the library!
86.   Play chess or checkers!
87.   Watch a movie! I like Welcome to Monster High!
88.   Go see a movie in theatres!
89.   Make temporary tattoos using food coloring!
90.   Make your own T-shirt using a blank T-shirt and fabric paints!
91.   Take a little nap!
92.   Put on a play with or for your stuffies!
93.   Make clothes and accessories for your stuffies!
94.   Make clothes and accessories for your dolls!
95.   Make furniture for your dolls!
96.   Make your own blindbags for a friend!
97.   Upcycle your old clothes and jewelry by designing them into something new!
98.   Visit a thrift store!
99.   Go to a museum!
100. Go to the mall!
101.  Visit an Arcade!
WHEW! I hope that is enough ideas for you bored little ones out there. Have a great day!
85 notes · View notes
cozage · 1 year
Note
May I please have some headcanons of Law with an s/o and Chopper with a friend/crewmate who, part of their devil fruit ability causes them to have increasingly worse fevers when the more they use it. Like how Magellan's Venom-Venom fruit causes him to have IBS because his body can't fully process the poison. I think devil fruit with specific drawbacks like are interesting.
Thank you for your time.
A/N: This is such a great concept and such a great idea you are a GENIUS
Characters: gn reader x Law, Chopper
Cw: reader being sick
Total word count: 500
Fever Pains
Law
The first time he saw your face flushed red, he rushed over to you. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of battle. When he grabbed your skin, it was warm, and he panicked. He used shambles to get you away from battle, and ran a full scan. 
It really beat him up when he thought he missed your symptoms earlier. He didn’t understand how your sickness had progressed so fast, and it scared him to see you so exhausted so suddenly. 
After you explained it to him, he calmed down a little bit. You had overworked yourself a lot in that particular battle, which had caused such a super high fever. 
Anytime that you overwork yourself like that now, he reprimands you. He scolds you and tells you not to work so hard and to find another way so you don’t kill yourself. But really he's beating himself up over not seeing that you were getting overheated and helping you before it got so bad
He has a bunch of ice packs he has ready for you during and after battle to keep your temperature down. He packs fluids for you to stay hydrated and brings fever reducer medicine. 
He hates when he has to leave you, and always has a little kit prepped for you to carry in your bag if you have to separate from him, with an emergency ice pack, electrolyte drink packet, and single use tylenol. 
Chopper
Chopper runs checkups on his crew all the time, and is super in tune with your all's well being. So when he sees you staggering on the battlefield, he’s a bit confused. And when he finds you post battle, he takes your temperature and freaks out. Screaming, running around, begging for a doctor to help you. 
He instantly covers you in cool cloths, starts an IV to get you fluids. You try to explain to him that it’s normal, but he doesn’t care. “You shouldn’t have to suffer just because of your ability,” he says to you. He’s upset that you didn’t tell him about it, but he’s not angry over it, just a little sad. 
He gives you boosters, watches your status, and runs tests to see what specific levels you start to spike in temperature and how it correlates with your ability. 
Like Law, he changes up his medkit, and now he always has ice packs (that he took from Sanji until they can restock at the next island), fever reducers, anything he can think of that might help you. 
He secretly gives everyone a little emergency pack for you in case you get overheated and he's not there, but whenever the group splits up, Chopper always tries to stay by your side. It’s his job as a doctor to make sure everyone on the crew is happy and healthy, and this is just another challenge he has to solve in his journey.
400 notes · View notes
maireyart · 1 year
Note
Obito + community service
Art request #11. Thank you for this request, anon! Post-Kaguya (or just post-war) Obito is my favorite Obito, and naturally this art has spiralled out of control 🤪 Obito: Rebuilding the World.
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Building Buildings AU headcanons: * Obito lives, his chakra & Sharingan are blocked. * After some time they (somehow) unblock the Mokuton for construction purposes (the Juubi's bijuudama destroyed some towns, Mokuton users needed), and he can shape his chakra only the way it is needed for this ability. If he tries anything else, it just doesn't work. * Obito has no idea how to use Mokuton for construction & architecture, so Yamato teaches him. * Since he can't use chakra even for simple things like sticking to surfaces or climbing walls, he sometimes needs safety gear that he hates, but everybody else finds it amusing :D * The goggles are very useful -- there's a lot of dust from the debris. * Gradually Obito starts enjoying this a lot and is glad he can do something like this. Aaaand some amazing cracktastic headcanons from @cool-thymus 🧡 * Yamato is like: "I'm NOT going to fraternize with a war criminal, not even if he is your former teammate, senpai." And then in a couple of days: "Here, Obito, I made you some soup! You need your strength, you're doing great!" * Yams is a bit of a control freak, and everything should be by the book. And then there's Obito 😆 Yams is carefully showing Obito how to put together a neat building, while Obito creates something similar yet super weird/morbid/questionable. Y: Obito, what is this? O: What? I followed your instructions. You told me to follow my instinct. Y: This is not.. I meant your Mokuton abilities, chakra-wise! O: ... I did what I did. * So as a "punishment" Obito gets to live in his weird building for a few days under the leaking roof (he ignored some construction rules for the sake of the morbid beauty of said roof). * And when Yams comes back to check on him, he finds Obito sitting on the floor, totally unphased, the roof is leaking, water streaming right above Obito, BUT he had mokutoned a cute little umbrella over his head sprouting from his neck/shoulders. And again he deadpans, "I did what I did." Thanks @cool-thymus, I think I died laughing 🤣
Any other headcanons? 🤣
217 notes · View notes
tonberry-yoda · 1 year
Note
hi hello okay i’m back because i just heard that FINAL FANTASY 16 IS COMING OUT AND IM SUPER PUMPED BC LIKE AHHHHHHHH! but with that being said, can you write hcs for the chocobo boys (if not just prompto is fine💕) with a medic s/o? they are kinda witchy but love cooking and handling animals but they also are the medic for the team bc the squad can’t all rely on noct😭😭 gaaahh tysm and BIG CONGRATS ON THE MAGAZINE THATS SO FRIGGIN COOL!!!💕💕
Chocobros with a medic s/o
notes - I HAD TO GET TO THIS ONE BECAUSE IVE HAD A SECRET FFXV BRAINROT AHHHH. And omg I am also super excited for FFXVI!!!! <33333 I just love this idea too so thank you so so so so much for sending it in <333 AND OMFG THANK YOU FOR THE CONGRATS IT MEANS THE WORLD I AM SO EXCITED TO SHOW YOU GUYS!!!
Prompto
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this man is so grateful to you
like you are his saving grace
we all know this little dummy will find his way to fall in a ditch and hurt his arm by accident
without you, he'd probably be dead LMFAO
he will always walk up to you and in the cutest little voice be like... "y/n, I hurt my arm again"
and you'll just jokingly sigh and fix him right up
he always asks you about how you do it and all that and finds it really cool that you are able to fix him up with herbs and stuff
and when you cook for him??? he would never tell iggy, but he loves your cooking more ;)
also the fact that you're good with animals makes chocobos love you which means they are always just around you and that makes prompto love you more <3
Ignis
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BRAINROT
you two definitely were the enemies to lovers troupe
like you were competing
you both could cook and take care of the others so it was immediate competition
you were always pushing each other around in a kitchen or whatever
but then you realized it was easier for you to deal with stuff as a team
and ofc you fell in love <3
he thinks you are very talented and honestly, when he's hurt, he will come to you and always feel bad lol
like he will feel like a burdan
please remind him that he isnt <3
he will love to learn how you use your herbs and stuff <3
overall, he just loves how amazing and talented you are and is so thankful about how you help the rest of the group
Gladio
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this man trusts you with his life
he is always getting beat up and needs you there by his side to help
he appreciates it a bunch
and you'll always call him a big dummy when he gets hurt and then get straight to working on him, but that always makes him blush
make him ramen
please
like homemade stuff
please stop this man from eating cup noodles
but yeah, he is always getting hurt so to watch you work on him and help him out means the world to him
Noctis
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this man gets too embarrassed to tell you he's hurt, so you always have to spot it
omg what a child
you will always get on his ass about that and he'll just be blushing as you work on him
ignis gets mad because you are super nice about Noct being picky and will make him food he enjoys instead of trying to make him something he doesnt like lol
you will baby him a bit because he is the king and he needs to be protected <3
he gets blushy when you do and act like he doesnt like it, but we all know he does <3
~~~~~
final fantasy masterlist | pinned post
2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated
~~~~~
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sug4r-sp1c3 · 6 months
Note
Hi!
Could you maybe do villanous x a reader who has rabbit ears please? Thanks!!
RULES ARE RULFES NO SPECIFIC CHARACTERS OR THINGS ITS BEING A HC UHHHH
ok lets begin since i'm sleepy ITA 1 AM WHAT THE FUCK
"but sugar-sp1c3 you said your limit was 4 character-" I KNOW OKAYI' JUST FORGOT WHEN DOING THIS
VILLANOUS WITH A S/O WITH RABBIT EARS HCS !!
Characters, Demencia/Dementia, Dr.Flug, 5.0.5(platonic?), Black hat, penumbra, Sun Blast, Miss heed(not in order lol)
Demencia / Dementia
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she woudl make fun of then
but like
A LOT
"Hey bunny ears!"
i feel like she would bite them idk
i mean yes she mocks of you BUT THATS HER WAY TO SHOW LOVE TO YOU..at least i think!
she haves 2 sides
the left one where she mocks and jokes and bites of you ears
and the right side where she praises you and your eyes and- you are basically her new black hat
she would often play with them
or if you have both rabbit and human she would be like:
"SO YOU HAVE SUPER HEARING!!?! OMG THATS SO COOL"
Dr. Flug
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his first honest reaction is that gif sorry i don't make rules
HE THINKS THEY ARE COOL AND PRETTY ASF
HE MELTS IF THEY EVEN MOVE LIKE
HE JUST STARES AT YOU IN AWWE UNTIL HE SNAPS BACK TO REALITY!
unless his with black hat bc in that case he avoids to look at your ears at all cost since the "jefecito" can notice and idk yeah
he would probably want to do some experiments
but only friendly ones!!
like testing if you can do other things
if you have extra sensitive ears
or somthn idk i have no ideas rn
he would like to caress them on his little free time
oh btw he would LOVE if you and 5.0.5 where like best buddies or you would be his second parent-like figure(i swear i am trying to make his non specified gender I SWEAR GUYS)
he just lvoes you and you ears so much
5.0.5
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he's a fucking bear bruh 💀
ok so thsi will be platonic like buddies or a second parental figure, or smthn like that
he loves to "talk" about your ears or ask you questions.(if you don understand them he would force flug to translate lmao)
he is very careful when he is trying to touch them since y'know..big paws
but he still tries!!
i imagine if he maked cupcakes the icing would be a drawing of an airplane, of dementia, a chameleon or a black hat idk, for you YOUR RABBIT EARS AND A HEART BECAUSE I THINK THEY ARE CUTE!!!!
he would even "ask" you to use you as inspiration for any dessert, or drawing or smthn.
i bet if he haves a rabbit plushie he gives it to you and/or puts something on the ears(ribbons, little hats, etc) he would be like "bow bow!" [siblings!]
Black Hat
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he probably threats to rip off your ears
and eat them
basically hurt you
DUDE HE IS LIKE THE ANTI CHRIST ON HIS UNIVERSE WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO TURN HIM INTO A ONCELER?
Penumbra
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SHE
LOVES
YOUR
EARS
SHE OFTEN POSTS THINSG ON HER INSTAGRAM(with your consent ofc) LIKE "my sweetie's ears where a bit messy today! so me and sun blast fixed them just a lil bit.... loved the result! 🐇💜"
she would ask if you are sensitive to things like sound or something to try to not let a lot of hard things that can cause a hard sound when they fall or make sure Curie or Sunblast don't throw things
she oftenly tries to impulse you to not cover them! but if you like to have them covered, she would be okay with that too!
the same that flug
she would ask to make some little and non-offensive, experiments on your ears
if you don't want, its okay!
if you want, its okay too!
"look! i got you this! i bet it would make your ears fur brighter!..and curie's too"
Miss Heed
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okay she would POST LIKE 10000 HISTORIES, POSTS, AND A LOT OF THINGS IN ALL HER SOCIAL MEDIA
LIKE SAYING "HAH MY s/O'S EARS ARE UNIQUE AND YOURS NOT"
but she would never say that out loud.
she would ask to records tiktoks or anything about them, like idk trends, popular songs or just quick vid like "watch me take care of my Sweetie S/o ears!"
if they are sensitive, during the event of when she had everybody under her control or smthn she would keep you away from them
yes she would be a bit sadistic and evil but she still cares abt you
..or she just does the same thing that she did with them..
when she's at..THAT place..she draws in a corner a lot of little ears, like if she misses you and misses your ears..
if you visit, she would beg to touch them again , to feel them..she would be crazy for it..
Sunblast
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Red BEFORE the "The Dreadful Dawn".
Orange AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and BEFORE the events of the comic and The "Heedeous Heart"
Yellow AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and the events of "The Heedeous Heart" and the little comic
even if you where his S/O he would mock of you and of them..
listen he knows you are his S/O but he just..feels like its the right thing or it doesn't matters
he doesn't even minds as i can think
he is just like "oh i am just joking! geez.."
Now under Penumbra's uhm..how do i say it?..NOW WITH PENUMBRA LMAO
he realized that he may have been a bit too much harsh with you..
he persuades Penumbra to localize you or visit you to apologize
if things go well..you both could try again!
and he is better.
He even tries to make you be friends with Penumbra! like he did with her
He still makes jokes but he thinks about them for a long time like
"no..that would hurt their feelings..NO ITS BAD..well- no wait..no..oh...this one may be good.."
he fears of you getting like the other ones..he tries to protect you at all cost
if you do get under Miss heed's..thing
he would be like mad but that multiplicate it for 10 and then for 100
the only thing that keeps him away from hurting heed and all her followers its his current little size and Curie
when you aren't under heeds control he makes sure you and your ears are okay..
he asks everyday if you are 100% SURE IF YOU ARE OKAY
after the Miss heed thing he is worried more than he should be but like c'mon
leave the little guy alone :(
he lost 2 of his most special people in his life just because a pink bitch
87 notes · View notes
tommyssupercoolblog · 8 months
Note
BIG MAN!!!!!!! QUESTION!!!!!! host is wondering if you have any good miscecanis blog reccs!!!!!! he wants me to ask JUST in case -@ctommyinnit (pssst ping me when you answer)
HEY OTJER TOMMY @ctommyinnit HELLO HELLO!!!!!! Sorry this took so long to answer, I have things HAPPENINGG
In general I suggest just searching "miscecanis" or "a/b/o lifestyle" (since they're the most popular tags here) and looking at some of the recent posts now and again, and then following blogs that consistently catch your eye.
Regaurdless, here (under the cut) are some blogs and the general vibe of their accounts, what to expect, etc, to help out!! (Hopefully)
@beta-adjacent is one of my mutuals and posts a lot of cool a/b/o stuff- they Reblog other unrelated stuff too from time to time.
@omega-floof is great. Lots of worldbuilding-esque posts which is SO FUCKING RAD. Sometimes has nsfw content but in a very like, clinical way?? It's not porn is what I'm saying, nothing is described it's just like "oh and then they breed lol"
I have no idea how to describe @pack-the-pack , but I can say that this account rocks. Just like….just look at it. I'm sure they can do a better summary or someone else can but sometimes I struggle to describe things. LOOK AT IT look
@transiota is also a mutual and is really cool!! They post a lot of alpha and intersex-a/b/o content, the latter being a rlly specific niche haha. they also post unrelated content there, and sometimes post suggestive-ish content too tho I personally have never seen anything completely nsfw. (I could be wrong though). They don't tag their posts either so if you have a trigger or if you want to avoid discourse than tread carefully or just look at their posts when they get reblogged or show up under #misecanis.
@omega-puppy has a neat account, again I'll give a heads up that they post nsfw on their acc a lot, but it's not exclusively nsfw; they have other posts too. We aren't mutuals (they are following me though, hi!!!) but I see them in my notes a lot and tend to reblog a lot of their sfw or close to sfw text posts. From what I've seen I think they're poly/have multiple mates, but if I'm mistaken I'm sure it'll get cleared up in comments/reblogs.
Last but certainly not least, @transalpha-coining . They're inactive nowadays but they have a TON of treasures stored up on that blog if you're willing to scroll through it. Headcanons and flags and explanations of worldbuilding stuff, plus they used to take asks/requests. They even invented words for things, like "kappa" as an omega version of "feminine", which regardless of whether you like the word is definitely a super cool thing to do. They're one of my all-time favorite miscecanis blogs so if you have the patience to look through their old posts, definitely do.
If anyone tagged here wants to correct anything or make any comments, please do!! You can also reblog w more blog recs if u want
54 notes · View notes
sollucets · 4 months
Text
beloveds @khaotunq, @pranink & @alexshenry tagged me to do:
every month of 2023! list your favorite/most popular gifset for each month.
i started making gifs in march this year, so january/february are off the table for this. it's funny that it hasn't even been a full year yet. it seems both somehow a lot longer and also like i remain some kind of photoshop baby at the same time. the images in this post will remain undescribed until i have some energy in my failing body, unfortunately
in any case:
march: midnight museum invades all 2 of my braincells. i download photoshop. the end is nigh
most popular: msp/eclipse pool parallel set
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favorite: the bams i made for sof
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(notes: it's hard to look back at these lmao. what is coloring and why don't i know her. why is everything so dark. who told me to use noise dithering and why did i ever think that was a good idea. anyway)
april: the eighth sense is airing! i meet many mutuals and friends. i figure out about the curves tool (thank god)
most popular: taehyung getting dunked on
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(very deserved dunk; very bad set. the coloring of this scene was extremely questionable and i did nothing to fix it it looks so dull and gray. augh)
favorite: feet lining up / jihyun & jaewon on the beach
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i really like this coloring actually. it's bright enough to actually see them, their skin doesn't look as weird, and i like the soft pink i made the beach. a win for baby photoshop user rowan
may: the purple is in full swing now
most popular: purple yok
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first set to cross 1k! the purple is still very good but in hindsight there are things i now know i couldve done to help his skin. in any case. a banger. beloved
favorite: pink our skyy 2 hands set
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[through tears] you're my space. also my first try at typography
june: i lose the will to gif some in the back half of this month, but i also learn to do a Lot of new things, like gradient maps & more complicated typography and transitions and such
most popular: puzzle piece hugs!
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deserved! hard to gif and fun to look at
favorite: i think it might be the heartliming i made for vi now! but i still like khathadome from eden too.
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july: i try giffing a few different shows. the only friends trailer comes out on the last day and i enter some kind of terrifying fugue state
most popular: sand and ray fighting / crying in the ofts trailer
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do you guys remember the trailer 1080p? life was so good
favorite: nobody appreciates my ride enough
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august: only friends airs, eclipse anniversary is concurrent, i lose my mind. i also learn to use the method of brightening that i still use & several other fundamental gif tricks
most popular: sandray car makeout
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good for them! i start using significant grain on my ofts gifs from here on out and can never decide how i feel about that
favorite: orange/blue eclipse episode seven set
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september: the madness continues
most popular: sand cooking for ray / special
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ive giffed this scene three times and this is my least favorite coloring but what can you do. this is my third post to cross 1k
favorite: new rules set! i had mixed feelings when i posted it but it's really grown on me.
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october: the madness is so much worse. only friends ends and i am left near-catatonic immediately, apparently. also, i learn to blend and use overlays and some other cool things. i join userdramas :'>
most popular: raysand afterglow. as it should be. cheek kissie
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favorite: space girl!! show me the stars!!!
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loved making this. purple and sparkly and gay. still super proud. that said other runner-up favorites in october are ray's o-face & the boyfriend shirt & akkaye's thumb thing collection
november: i am left cavernously empty after ofts ends and i fill the void with namtan
most popular: last twilight episode one porjai
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she <3
favorite: gaipa userdramas set
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again, i learned to use musescore for this set just so i could have those pretty notes. :')
december: i am punched in the face by seasonal depression. all is not well. i made just one gifset this month, but at least it was good? :')
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and here we are today !! it was very fun to look over everything; thanks so much for playing and have a happy new year everyone
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deldeldel90 · 3 months
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hey what do you think of cpc characters as flowers,, maybe plaid family specifically. the sunflower post had me thinking
!!!!!!!!! CPC as flowers!!!!!!! YES. yes yes yes. oh my gosh. CPC as flowers >>>
gonna do the plaid family rn :D
FIRST;;; Lance!! the ultimate middle child, my boy
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I feel like Chicory would really represent him well!
it's a wildflower (which I think fits him) and it belongs to the Sunflower family. it's name, according to a Trusty Google Search, means, "The German word for chicory means “The Blue Lookout at the Wayside.”
It's a cool season veggie and prefers a sunny location (Lance being a Sunshine boy my beloved). the nicknames for Chicory are, "Chicory is also called blue daisy, blue sailor, wild bachelor's button, blue or Italian dandelion, or even coffeeweed" (all of which I think kinda fit Lance)
"Chicory has also been used to symbolize the force of perseverance in martyrdom, as seen on the St Augustine's altar from 1487" - some study from 2009
NEXT:: Isolde!! :D
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carnations!! specifically red carnations!! these symbolize deep love and affection, and the ruffles at the end of the petals really remind me of her.
There's also this little bit of info, "The color was thought to resemble human flesh and carnation flower meaning took on the idea of the incarnation, God being made flesh." WHICH. I think is pretty baller NGL.
Next: Blaine!!
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I picked this because 1. It does resemble a carnation, which I felt was a nice detail :D (esp since he resembles his mother the most!!) and 2. red roses are known for a lot of things, like love and passion and stuff, AND red roses are often associated with throwing them at the end of plays and movies, which I find fits him!!!
"The red rose whispers of passion, And the white rose breathes of love; O, the red rose is a falcon, And the white rose is a dove." - some poem that makes me go a little Cray. and there's also this: "It's the rose of romance and deep feelings, but can also relay desire, beauty, victory, harmony, joy, luck, pride, martyrdom, [according to McCord Jones.]"
They thrive off direct sunlight and take a while to grow :D pretty high maintenance flowers yk :D PLUS!!!! they're super pretty and soft-looking, but they have thorns!!
FREDERICK....
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A Green Jewel Coneflower :D okay I was mildly tempted to just put a sunflower BUTTT you know. So I picked this!!!
a Green Jewel Coneflower can pretty much grow anywhere (and it grows pretty tall too!!), and they actually like a little bit of shade!
Sources say this: "Today, the Orange Coneflower is a symbol of enthusiasm and vitality. Its bold hue radiates excitement, making it a perfect emblem for those eager to make a statement. It's not just a pretty face; it's a nod to resilience, attracting pollinators and feeding birds, while standing strong against deer and drought." Which I think really suits him!!
and,
Leland..... bro would be like poison or something. Actually, maybe he'd be like a Petunia- "A flower that is not very common, Petunias display feelings of deep resentment and anger." It's not a poisonous flower but I feel like the negative meaning of it fits him :D
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