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#partially my own advice to myself
emptymanuscript · 2 years
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I am randomly thinking today of Amy Mackeldon.
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I had the good luck to go to grad school with Amy and she ended up teaching me what I consider the most valuable lesson about writing.
See, Amy is an amazing writer. Everyone in our year was addicted to her short stories. They were just
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But she would talk about feeling guilty because of the eternal message of you have to read to write. She frequently said she must be shit because she just didn't read. Mention most books and she hadn't read it. Just, nah.
And I remember having this sort of echoed existential angst because everyone had always told me you had to read to write. I had never met any writer before her who hadn't been a serious writer. AND she was amazing. So what the fuck was going on here?
And then our little friend clique went over to Amy's apartment for the first time.
She had a library. A full on library. Just this gleaming collection. Like O... M... G...!
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What Amy didn't read was BOOKS. She read plenty. She read a phenomenal amount. Her bookshelves were crammed full all around her. She could pick out stuff to show us, she was so familiar with the material. What she read, were Magazines. So many magazines.
And that's when it hit me, she wrote what she loved. Distill thousands of letters to the editor, advice columns, commiseration into the essence of those stories and spin it through her unique point of view and you get her writing. She absolutely did write what she read and loved. It just wasn't novels. It just wasn't the approved reading list.
What Amy really drove home to me was that the best advice is to write what you love. No matter what you love. If what you love doesn't fit the paradigm that gets pushed as the absolutely one correct way to read, write, and think about literature, you know what, it's the paradigm that's wrong.
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What you love is right.
That's what Amy taught me that no one else quite got across. The guidelines don't exist to make a correct way to write, they exist to help you with your writing, and if they can't help you, for whatever reason, they aren't worth your time because they can't do their job.
If you want to learn to write, the first and most important ingredient is YOU. Your unique sensibilities and experiences are what make your writing different from everyone else's. It's where you shine through that makes it your story that only you could write.
Just as important, once you've learned to write, YOU are still the diamond at the core of your stories. All the rules and guidelines you've ingested are just ways to reveal your sensibilities better. And ways to appeal to the gatekeepers to get your words to other people. When they stop serving you, they're the problem, not you.
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marvelmusing · 5 months
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Can I Ask You A Question?
Part of The Darkling Wears Prada AU
Pairing: Aleksander Morozov x Fem!Reader (Modern AU)
Summary: Alina has lots of questions about her new job and your boss. Meanwhile, Aleksander has an important question for you - it just takes him some time to realise it.
Warnings [18+]: brief smut, fingering, references to sex, CEO x assistant trope, praise kink
Read part one -> HERE
My Masterlist
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“Why is he is nice to you?”
“Who?”
“Aleksander.” When you breathe out a soft laugh, shaking your head at Alina’s question, she leans closer, as if she’s willing you to understand. “Today, he obliterated a designer for picking out the wrong purse.”
“That wrong purse delayed the photoshoot by almost an hour,” you reason.
She tilts her head, clearly waiting for an explanation - why does the infamously fierce Aleksander Morozov have a soft spot for you?
Sighing quietly, you look down at your drink, fidgeting with the stem of your glass.
“I’ve worked for Aleksander for a long time.”
She waits for more.
“I started off in your position - his second assistant. Nina was his first assistant at the time, and I felt like I would never be able to impress him. The first time he really noticed me was the night before his and Luda’s third wedding anniversary.”
“He’s married?”
A frown creases at your brows.
“Not anymore. The divorce was years ago. It made the headlines for days. How do you not-” You shake your head. Just because you know everything that goes on in Aleksander’s life doesn’t mean everyone else does. “Never mind. Nina had taken the night off for a date. I’m sure you’ve noticed, there’s no such thing as a night off when you work for Aleksander.”
Alina nods in agreement.
“A storm came in while he was in Ketterdam, which stopped him from getting on his flight home. No planes were flying in or out of the city.”
“What did you do?”
“Everything I could. I called in a favour with Nikolai, to borrow one of his private jets. Paid for it to land at a private airfield in the Kerch countryside. They managed to charter his flight to Balakriev and I drove two hours to pick him up myself when his usual driver didn’t respond to my calls.”
“And?”
You smile softly.
“He made it home for their anniversary. The last anniversary they had before the divorce.”
“Why did they split up?”
“There was always love in their marriage, but they didn’t understand each other. Aleksander loves his job. He always will. If his partner can’t understand that, the relationship won’t last.”
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“What’s the Morozov rule?” The sound of Alina’s question draws your attention away from the email you’re in the midst of writing. She looks away shyly when you meet her eyes. “Some girls were talking about it in the bathroom earlier.”
Gaze skimming back over the screen of your laptop, you breathe out a quiet scoff.
“Let me guess, the heart-eyed interns?”
She nods.
“A lot of the fashion elites have a specific rule,” you explain. “It’s partially fashion advice, partially PR to make them more memorable.” You click send on your email, changing window to examine Aleksander’s schedule for tomorrow. “Like the Chanel rule - take a look at yourself before you leave the house and remove one item of your outfit.”
Alina listens intently.
“The Morozov rule is to always make sure your underwear matches your shoes. Because at the end of the day, when you take off your dress or your suit that’s all you’ll be wearing.”
A smirk twists at your lips.
“So, if you’re ever wondering what colour underwear Aleksander is wearing, just take a look at his shoes.”
Alina blushes.
“Really?”
“Of course. What kind of a man is he if he doesn’t follow his own rule?”
“How do you know he-”
The sound of Aleksander’s voice rings out from the door to his office, cutting through your conversation with Alina.
“Milaya.”
Responding immediately to your summons, you stand from your desk and make your way into his office. He glances up at you from his papers momentarily, a frown creasing between his brows as his gaze returns to the words in front of him.
“I don’t have anything to wear for my trip to Novyi Zem.” He holds out his credit card, balanced between two of his slim fingers. “I will need enough for six nights. Look at the itinerary for the trip and purchase anything you deem necessary. You know what I like.”
After taking the card from him, you nod.
“Yes, sir. I will be back before your meeting with Nikolai.”
Turning on your heel, you move back towards the door, only for his voice to stop you.
“And milaya?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Take Miss Starkova. If she’s going to gain any sense of style for herself she needs to see someone competent at work.”
“I’ll do my best,” you assure him. Like everyone in the fashion industry, you live for Aleksander’s praise.
The hint of a smile twitches at the corner of his mouth.
“As you always do.”
His remark makes your stomach flip.
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“What’s this?”
Alina peers into the black garment bag curiously.
“A dress. For you. It’s Valentino. One of Aleksander’s picks for the gala.”
She blinks at you in surprise.
“I’m going to the gala?”
You nod.
“Genya will help you get ready. We leave at seven.”
It isn’t long before Aleksander is settling his hand on your lower back, steering the two of you through the crowd at the entrance. Alina looks relieved at the sight of your arrival - you can only imagine how worried she was being surrounded by the flurry of photographers.
As the gala begins, Aleksander claims a corner of the room for himself, waiting for the designers and reporters and politicians to come to him.
Whenever someone approaches your group, you turn your face towards Aleksander, hiding your words in the crook of his neck as you inform him of the names of the people heading his way. His fingers play with the seam of your dress, dancing distractedly down your spine.
Occasionally, you find yourself adjusting the collar of his shirt, fixing the position of his tie, or smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. Just to keep your hands occupied. Unlike a usual gala, where you would be standing one pace behind him, Aleksander keeps you on his arm tonight. Deep down, you know it’s because he doesn’t have a plus one, but it makes you feel special nonetheless.
It’s only once you step out of the little bubble Aleksander always creates, that you stop enjoying yourself. As you place your drinks order at the bar, you attract the attention of Malyen Oretsev - a mediocre journalist - and his friends.
“There she is,” he remarks. “Morozov’s favourite pet.”
Mikhael smirks.
“I don’t know about that, Mal.” He jerks his head towards Aleksander. “Looks like he’s got a shiny new toy to play with.”
Glancing over, you see Alina looking at Aleksander rather bashfully as they seem to be engaged in a somewhat stilted conversation. The sight makes your stomach twist uncomfortably.
“Have a nice evening,” you state casually, collecting your drinks before you head back in the direction of Aleksander and Alina.
All night, you try your best to ignore Mikhael’s words, but it seems they’ve burrowed their way into your psyche.
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“Why can’t I give him the book?”
Alina peers curiously at the book, as you turn the pages slowly to show her the magazine mockups for next month’s issue.
“Aleksander is very selective about who he allows into his house.” Alina seems mildly offended and you decide to soften the blow slightly by adding, “Besides, he usually likes to do a final run through so that he can brief me on tomorrow’s agenda.”
Towards the end of the month, during the final stages of development for the next publication, you usually find yourself working late at Aleksander’s house. Over the years, there’s been countless times when you’ve helped him rework an entire issue in a matter of hours, pouring your ideas together over his kitchen table.
Luckily, this month has been somewhat smooth sailing. Though that doesn’t mean your to-do list isn’t still a mile long. When you’re alone with Aleksander like this, the persona he’s created for himself loosens and he’s patient as you ask him enough questions to be prepared for the day ahead of you tomorrow.
“Anything else?” he asks.
You shake your head, remarking as you bend your neck from side to side,
“All I need now is a hot bath.”
“Use mine,” he states, not even looking up at you as he finishes filing away the pages into the book. “Stay the night.”
“What?”
He raises a brow at you.
“You ought to know by now that I don’t like repeating myself.”
“I- Are you sure?” He gives you a firm look and heat rushes to your cheeks. “Sorry, stupid question. Thank you.”
He shows you into his personal bathroom, a lavish en-suite connected to his bedroom by a wooden folding door. He’s blasé about his toiletries, opening a cupboard to show you before he retreats back into his bedroom.
Once the bath is full of water and a copious amount of bubbles, you slip out of your clothing and into the tub with your hair and makeup still intact. The warmth makes you sigh softly, closing your eyes as you tilt your head back against the rim of the bath. It’s only the sound of the door opening that makes you open your eyes again.
Aleksander stands in the open doorway, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up haphazardly and the buttons undone down to the centre of his chest. His gaze is heated as his eyes remain locked on yours, and despite the intensity you don’t shy away from him.
He circles around the bath tub slowly, his knuckles tracing the curve of your neck when he finally stands behind you.
His thumbs press into the centre of your back, working on the tension in the muscles that no amount of stretching can ease. He moves his hands knowingly, finding the areas that give you the most discomfort after long hours at the office. When he presses the right spot, your back arches, your body pliant in his hold as you breathe out a soft moan.
He smirks, cocky in the fact that he knows only his touch can bring you this sort of relief. His smirk fades slightly, as his focus shifts and he traces his fingers up your back, stroking over your shoulders.
He presses his face against your cheek, his lips brushing over your skin as he breathes in the scent of his soap. Tantalisingly close to a kiss. Then he sinks onto his knees, his hands descending beneath the water.
Turning your head, you’re face to face with Aleksander, your nose brushing against his as he draws a slow line down your body, between the valley of your breasts before he circles your navel.
“May I?” he murmurs.
“Please, Aleksander.”
With one hand, he grasps the back of your neck to limit your squirming, while the other descends downwards to play with your cunt. It’s slow and deliberate, the way he works you up towards your orgasm. The only sound in the room is your breathy gasps and the subtle splash of bath water against the sides of the tub.
It would be a lie to say you haven’t imagined what Aleksander might be like in bed. You know you aren’t alone in that. The rumours all paint him in the same light. Dominant. Controlling. Mildly sadistic. That’s what makes the praises that fall from his lips all the more effective.
“That’s it. Good girl,” he murmurs directly into the crook of your neck. His voice is a soft and soothing rasp. “You’re doing so well for me.” He smiles when you gasp loudly, writhing with unabashed pleasure. “Utterly perfect.”
His words fade away, until all you can hear is the hurried beat of your heart hammering away in your chest as you come astonishingly close to your release.
“Please, Aleksander. I need it. Need you, oh, fuck-”
He rests his hand on the rim of the tub, palm upwards as he anticipates the sudden backwards motion of your head when you reach your climax. As pleasure courses through your body, his hand curls around to cradle the back of your head. He’s silent, eyeing you attentively as the aftereffects slowly wind down.
“Aleksander?” you whisper.
His thumb strokes down the sensitive skin behind your ear.
“Hm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
He regards you seriously, his eyes flickering over your features, then he nods. Before you can lean upwards to kiss him, he adds,
“If you do, I won’t be able to stop myself from climbing into this bath to take this further.”
“And if I don’t want you to stop yourself?”
He grips the nape of your neck, directing your mouth to meet his.
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“Do I have to?” Alina whines, hiding her face with her hands in embarrassment at the thought of heading a few floors down to the lingerie photoshoot to retrieve the file of images taken today.
“You’ll be fine,” you assure her. “Aleksander wants to look at the photos before the models go home for the day.”
“Can’t the photographers just email them to him?”
You shake your head.
“He likes to look at the printouts.”
She sighs.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
She returns with red cheeks, gripping the paper folder tightly in her hands. She doesn’t make eye contact with you as she walks by your desk to give the folder to Aleksander. Almost as soon as she sits down at her desk opposite you, Aleksander calls for you.
“Milaya.”
Alina busies herself with typing as you walk by her, into Aleksander’s office.
“Yes, sir?”
“I’d like your opinion on something.” He selects a page, turning it over in his hand so that he’s offering it to you. “What do you think of this?”
Taking the page in hand, you look down at the two images, side by side. The first is a close up of a model wearing an unbelievably expensive bralette.
Pale blue boning, covered in a soft mesh a few shades lighter. The entire garment has been decorated with intricate embroidery, adorned in pearls and tiny gems that create the illusion of flowers. The image beside it shows off the matching thong - a tiny triangle of fabric embellished with the same exquisite details.
“The photos?”
He shakes his head.
“The outfit. Would you wear something like this?”
Heat spreads over your cheeks at his question.
“I would. It’s very pretty.”
“Do you like the colour?” he asks, selecting another page to show you. “Or do you prefer the pink?”
After considering both pieces, you admit quietly,
“I like the blue.”
He hums.
“Very well.” He holds out his hand expectingly and you place the pages back in his palm. “Your measurements haven’t changed have they?”
His question makes your brows scrunch together in confusion.
“No, sir.”
“The designer is creating a custom piece as a gift for me. Offering it to anyone else in this building but you would be a waste.”
“A waste?”
He nods, not looking up at you.
“That’s all.”
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“What’s wrong?” Alina asks you.
She must have noticed your anxious fidgeting; you’ve straightened the same pen on your desk four times already. But you can’t tell her what is actually on your mind.
“Nothing. I’m just keeping an eye on the time. Aleksander’s driver should be arriving soon.”
Sure enough, your phone rings and Aleksander’s driver is on the line, informing you that he’s parked outside the building. Once you’ve retrieved Aleksander, you accompany him down in the elevator.
He lists a few tasks for you to complete while he is out at his meeting and you distractedly make a note of them all. It’s only once the two of you are out in the fresh air, that you’re able to speak.
“I need to talk to you.” He doesn’t turn, ignoring you until you grasp at his sleeve, just as he reaches his car. “Aleksander.”
He turns to face you.
“What is it?”
Instantly, the weight of his eyes makes you nervous. Of course, you’ve thought about what you want to say to him but now the words fail you. The Aleksander in front of you now is different from the one you were with the other night.
“It’s about that night at your house,” you clarify. “I don’t want any special treatment because of what happened between us.”
He raises a brow, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
“Special treatment?” he repeats.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the set you offered me, but I don’t want anyone to think you’re favouring me.”
“Tell me about the designer of that piece.”
“She’s a Ravkan designer. All her work is couture, with hand stitched embroidery and embellishments. The pearls and gems are all sourced sustainably; she limits her collection to only forty pieces per style to minimise the environmental impact…”
When you realise how much you’re talking - about things that Aleksander most likely knows already - your words trail off into nothing. His mouth quirks into a half-smile that he quickly smoothes out into a more neutral expression.
“You are the one of the few people who understand the value of that design,” he says in a low voice. “And that is the only reason I wanted you to have it.”
“The only reason?” you repeat, hoping that he might have wanted you to have the lingerie because you would look good in it.
He doesn’t respond. Instead, he glances down at the front of your top, eyeing the skin on show there briefly before he turns away, leaving you in shock as he climbs into his car. Did Aleksander just eye up your cleavage?
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“Are those new?”
Alina’s question makes you peer down at your shoes - the object of her attention - and you smile.
“Yes. They are.”
The pale blue of your shoes are an almost perfect match to the lingerie set Aleksander had gifted to you - not to mention the heels are adorned in shimmering gems and pearls.
Alina takes the time to admire them, as the two of you stand beside the printer.
“Miss Starkova,” Aleksander calls out, standing in the doorway between his office and the one you share with Alina. “I need ten scarves from Gucci, and fetch my coffee on your way back in.”
Alina glances at you momentarily, wide eyed, before she nods resolutely.
“Yes, sir.”
There’s an anxious edge to her movements as she grabs her phone and bag, but she seems determined to adhere to Aleksander’s demands on her own this time. Both you and Aleksander watch her leave.
When you turn back to face him, Aleksander’s gaze is sweeping down your body, assessing your outfit as he always does, yet he lingers on your shoes for a moment. His throat bobs lightly as he swallows, his eyes darkening as they meet yours.
“A perfect match,” he observes.
Before you can respond, he turns and walks back into his office.
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“Where have you been?” Alina asks, shifting her weight anxiously on the pavement.
Cheeks flushing with warmth, you wipe at your lower lip with your thumb to ensure your makeup is still intact. The two of you head up the steps, into the entrance of Cartier.
“The car got caught in traffic.”
“Aleksander must have been furious.” You hum rather distractedly in agreement, smoothing down your skirt.
“He’s waiting in the car now, so we’ll have to make this quick.”
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
“Where are you going?” Alina asks, turning to watch as you back away down the pavement. “I thought we were celebrating.” The last night of fashion week, the pinnacle of all your hard work over the last year has been finally reached.
It’s been almost a year since Alina first started working alongside you, but you don’t yet trust her with the full truth when you answer.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” you tell her before adding, “I’m exhausted.”
“Do you want me to walk with you?”
Shaking your head, you tuck your coat tighter around your body.
“I’ll be fine, thanks. Go enjoy yourself.”
When you finally reach your hotel bed, you collapse onto the mattress, still wearing your coat and shoes. It’s completely unintentional, the way you fall asleep draped over the bed.
After an indeterminable amount of time passes, a kiss is pressed to your cheek, rousing you from your slumber as someone nestles themselves over your body.
“Hello there, sleeping beauty,” a familiar voice coos playfully. Blinking the drowsiness from your eyes, you murmur a mildly bemused response,
“Sasha?”
He laughs softly.
“Who else, milaya?” He presses another kiss to your cheek, his lips moving toward your ear. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“I stuck my head in the study,” you explain sleepily. “You were working… didn’t want to disturb you.”
He slips your coat off your shoulders, lowering kisses across your neck and collarbones as he reaches for the zipper on the back of your dress.
“You should have. I would have come to bed hours ago had I known you were back.”
“I’m so tired,” you murmur as your eyelids droop. Aleksander smiles fondly, pulling your dress down your body.
“You outdid yourself this year.” A pleased smile lifts the corners of your mouth. Aleksander lifts himself off the bed, crossing the room towards the en-suite. “The Starkova girl has improved,” he states, wringing out a cloth. “You seem to like this one.”
“I do,” you confirm, kicking your shoes off onto the floor. “She’s nice, though she’s been asking a lot of questions lately.”
“About us?”
“About you, mostly. I think she has a crush.”
“Poor girl,” he remarks drily as he sits down beside you and begins to wipe the makeup from your face. “Have you told her about us?”
“I thought you wanted this to be a secret?”
He shakes his head.
“I want to keep you safe. From the press and the gossip that follows me. Besides, I know how much you love working for the magazine. I would hate to jeopardise that.”
“Well, I might find something that I enjoy more than working as your assistant.”
“Such as?”
The smile you give him is soft as you fidget with the creases in his trousers.
“Your wife.”
His own smile is boyish as he teases,
“That is quite the promotion you’re offering yourself.” Then his expression grows more serious. “Even as my wife, I wouldn’t expect you to give up your job - not unless you wanted to.”
That makes your smile widen, your cheeks warming at the casual tone his voice adopts when considering you as his wife.
“Besides,” he adds. “Where would I find someone as capable as you?”
“I could mentor Alina.”
He hums, unconvinced, and you laugh at the sight of his apprehension. It’s sweet, knowing you’ve taken such a root in Aleksander’s life. He trusts you, unconditionally.
“I’m not handing my notice in yet,” you tease him, before adding with a small laugh, “Unless you’re planning on proposing tonight.”
Aleksander doesn’t laugh.
“Sasha?”
The corner of his lips quirk with the hint of a laugh, embarrassment touching at his features.
“I-” He sighs, shaking his head as his smile widens. “You’ve ruined the surprise.”
“Sasha,” you repeat, thoroughly caught off guard. “You’re not serious.”
“Of course I am.”
“Aleksander, I’m not wearing any makeup. I’m in my underwear.”
He doesn’t look impressed by your protests.
“Milaya, if you’re finished making rather obvious statements, I’d like to propose to you.”
The look he gives you has your lips pressing closed, giving him the chance to speak. Almost immediately, your excitement spills over your expression - a giddy smile tugging at your lips. Aleksander smiles fondly, stroking your cheek with his thumb as he admires you.
“I can’t believe you used to hide this from me. My pretty girl.”
“Well, dating the Aleksander Morozov was rather daunting at first,” you admit bashfully. He tilts his head at you.
“And do you think you can marry the Aleksander Morozov?”
Being married to Aleksander will attract attention - the kind that you’re unused to. The entire world will have something to say about you - what you wear, how you act - it will all be scrutinised by the tabloids and the social media comments. But he’s worth it, a million times over.
“I will if he actually asks me,” you remark teasingly.
He breathes out a laugh, kissing your cheek.
“Let me fetch the ring.”
͙⁺˚*・༓☾ ‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾
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408 notes · View notes
avatar-anna · 2 years
Text
Unknown Number
someone made a request about reader accidentally being given harry's number, but i accidentally deleted it, so if you requested it, here it is!
(the text chain will be from harry's point of view)
italics: y/n (unknown number)
bold: harry
Part Two
Part Three
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Unknown Number (UN): heyy. i had a really good time the other night. maybe we could do it again sometime? xx (click to download image)
Harry Styles (HS): How did you get this number?
UN: you gave it to me?
UN: last night at the pub? marcus, right?
HS: No. You have the wrong number.
UN: is this a joke? are you fucking with me right now?
HS: No.
UN: oh my god
UN: i feel like such an idiot
UN: one of the first times a guy gives me his number at a bar and he gives me the wrong number
UN: probably on purpose too
UN: i should've known when he left his OWN APARTMENT the next morning but i was actually hopeful
UN: and now i've made an ass of myself here too. sorry to bother you i'll leave you alone. sorry again
(one hour later)
HS: It's okay. Sorry about that guy. Sounds like a jerk.
(twenty minutes later)
UN: it's fine, i guess
UN: i wasn't in love with him or anything but he could've had the decency of expressing his disinterest himself instead of hiding behind a fake number.
HS: That is quite a dick move.
HS: I'm not gonna lie, I wasn't expecting that text. I didn't open the picture either by the way.
UN: thank you. for a moment i was worried i was messaging a creep, but hopefully you're not a creep
UN: i mean you could be still and i'd have no idea
UN: maybe i should stop texting you
(ten minutes later)
HS: I'm not a creep.
UN: that's exactly what a creep would say
HS: I don't really know how to prove it to you. You're the one who sent me a photo of yourself half naked. You could be the creep.
UN: you said you didn't open it!
HS: I was trying to be polite!
UN: great now some 40 year old living in his parents basement has one of my nudes
HS: I'm not 40! And I don't live in my parents basement
UN: you text like an old man
HS: wuld u rather i txt like ths???
UN: no but i'm just saying i don't know many people my age who use proper punctuation in text messages
HS: Well I might not be your age, but I'm certainly not 40
UN: "certainly not." you're right. you sound like my grandpa
HS: I suddenly regret restarting a conversation with you
UN: you know despite the fact that you might be catfishing me, i've enjoyed this. i feel like i'm doing what all the other teen girls did in high school at sleepovers
HS: So you're out of high school.
UN: creep!
HS: You outed yourself, that's not on me.
UN: you...might be right
UN: can you tell me something about yourself to make it even? there's always a possibility that you could be lying and i have no reason to trust you, but...idk i feel like i can
HS: Well that's stupid.
HS: But I suppose since I've already seen you partially naked...
UN: i'm blocking your number
HS: My first name is H, and I'm 20 years old.
UN: h? just the letter h?
HS: You could be a creep too for all I know
UN: fair enough. i'm june
HS: Full name? Wow, you really are a dummy.
UN: don't get your 60 year old panties in a twist. it's a nickname
HS: June is a nickname?
HS: And I'm not 60.
UN: june. june bug. that's what the folks call me
HS: Folks? Now who sounds old?
UN: whatever
(thirty minutes later)
HS: Well, it was nice talking to you, June. June bug.
UN: you too h
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(three days later)
June (J): you're a guy right?
HS: I'm sorry?
J: well when i first texted you i thought you were a guy, but you weren't THAT guy, so i have no idea
J: i just assumed but i thought i would ask
J: plus i need solicited guy advice and if you're not a creep i would really appreciate it
HS: We're back to me being a creep?
J: it's a risk every time i text you
J: so? are you a dude?
HS: Yes.
J: great! can i ask you something?
HS: Um...I guess...
J: ok. would you ever get offended if a woman covered their drink during a conversation with you?
HS: I'm not following...
J: like say we're at a bar and we're talking and i turn my head away for some reason but i put my hand over my drink until i look back at you to prevent it from being spiked. would you be offended by that?
HS: No. Why?
J: see? i don't think that's unreasonable. some loser got mad at me for doing that. well EXCUSE ME for not immediately trusting the guy i matched with on tinder
J: who was not as cute in real life i might add
HS: You don't have the best taste in guys.
J: that is not advice!
HS: Okay, here's my advice: don't swipe right on guys who have mirror selfies in their profile.
J: ...
J: ok fair enough but it's not like prince charmings are falling from the sky. it's hard out here
HS: I'm sure.
J: what you don't have the same problem?
HS: I don't really date.
J: in like a douchey way? are you one of those guys who say they just fuck?
HS: I just don't have time for dating, I guess.
J: so no special someone?
HS: No.
(four hours later)
HS: If you asked for advice, does that mean I can too?
(one hour later)
J: sorry i was at work
J: and i don't see why not
HS: What do you think about guys who wear skinny jeans?
J: hm...i think styled right it could be nice
J: YSL is kind of pushing the whole skinny jeans and chelsea boots thing which might eventually trickle down to the losers i match with on tinder so...why not? i say dress how you want
J: any guy who has a good sense of style is sexy to me
J: sorry if that wasn't the answer you were looking for
HS: Yes and no. I've been experimenting with different styles. Sometimes I get a little in my head about it.
J: doesn't everyone?
HS: I guess you're right.
HS: Do you follow fashion shows and things like that?
HS: That's not too personal, is it?
J: no, but it's kind of embarrassing
HS: Not as embarrassing as sending a complete stranger a picture of yourself in your bra
J: harsh...but fair
J: fashion is kind of my religion
J: i'm trying to become a stylist. keyword trying
HS: That's cool!
J: tell that to my family
HS: they don't support you?
J: nope! but i'm gonna do it anyway!
HS: Do you have a favorite designer?
J: it kinda depends on the year and who was creative director at the time, but the first time i got my hands on vintage vivienne westwood i was hooked
J: you?
HS: I'm just starting to explore the fashion world I guess you could say.
J: well lucky for you i happen to be a bit of an encyclopedia when it comes to house codes
HS: House codes?
J: oh boy. i hope you're comfortable. we might be here a while
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(two days later)
HS: Have you ever had rumors spread about you?
J: i don't think so
J: oh wait! in eighth grade this girl in my class told everyone i made out with a boy at the school dance which was NOT true
J: it was just a peck
HS: Naughty.
J: it was harmless. why do you ask?
HS: There's a rumor going around about me. It's just frustrating when people actually believe it. sometimes it gets to the point where i start to believe it myself.
J: i'm sorry. i won't pry or anything, but i know what it feels like to not be understood
HS: I just hate the feeling of being under a microscope. It's exhausting. I feel like my life isn't my own sometimes.
J: that sucks
J: sorry that was in no way helpful, but i don't really know what to say. is there someone you can talk to about this?
HS: ...
J: oh! i actually feel kind of honored
J: well, obviously i don't know the whole situation, but maybe try and surround yourself with people who don't scrutinize you so much?
HS: Easier said than done.
J: true but i think if you have a solid group of people who know you and understand you and like you for who you are, it's easier to deal with things like rumors and being under the proverbial microscope, you know?
J: and don't be afraid to get rid of the toxic people in your life! it's not easy but you'll be better off in the long run
HS: sometimes it's hard to tell who's toxic and who's not
J: start with the people who would never believe a rumor about you, or the ones who would never START one about you
HS: Well said, June Bug.
J: thanks! maybe i should entertain a career in counseling
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(one month later)
HS: Why June Bug?
J: i was born in the summer. it was a nickname my grandparents gave me. been called that ever since
HS: That's sweet.
J: there are worse nicknames i suppose. i have a cousin that got stuck with chip because he used to stuff his face like a chipmunk when he was little
HS: Yikes.
J: you're telling me
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(three weeks later)
J: have you ever danced alone in your bedroom to stevie nicks?
HS: Have you?
J: i have, and can i just say she does NOT get enough credit as a songwriter?
HS: Edge of Seventeen?
J: edge of seventeen
J: i went on a date last week with a guy who had the AUDACITY to call her music mediocre
HS: You didn't see him again did you?
J: ...
HS: June!
J: just once! and only because he had really nice hands
HS: I don't get how that would make you stay with a stevie hater...
J: REALLY nice hands ;)
HS: You disappoint me sometimes.
J: ;))))
(fifteen minutes later)
J: hey you never answered my question about dancing in your room!
HS: ...No comment...
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(one week later)
J: you ever been in love, h?
HS: I can't say that I have. Have you?
J: no ://
J: i think i want it too much. i've always just been in love with the idea of falling in love, you know?
J: but the reality isn't what i thought it would be
HS: I'm sorry.
HS: It probably won't help but I'm sure you'll find someone. You seem like a great person. Anyone would be lucky to be with you.
J: aw h you're making me blush!
HS: But perhaps you should stop looking for love on a hookup app
J: annnd good feeling gone
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(two weeks later)
HS: Guess who has two thumbs and got invited to Paris Fashion Week!
J: no fair!
J: and that joke doesn't work if i can't see you point to yourself. it doesn't work period
HS: I will let that slide because I know you're just jealous.
J: are you kidding me? OF COURSE i'm jealous! i can't believe you get to see Alessandro Michele's work up close
HS: Who?
J: don't think because we only communicate through text that i can't strangle you
HS: Relax. I'm only joking.
HS: Alessandro is a friend ;))
(ten minutes later)
J: sorry i just had to scream into my pillow
J: what exactly do you do again?
HS: I told you. I work in the industry.
J: but that could mean anything! the cosmetics industry, the movie industry, the meat packing industry...
HS: Meat packing?
J: you know what i mean!
HS: I do a lot of PR.
J: see. that wasn't so hard now was it?
HS: Can I go back to gloating?
J: only if you promise to give me a full report afterwards you go to all the shows
HS: Deal.
(four days later)
HS: Favorite movie?
J: that's hard...
J: it's probably cliche but the devil wears prada
HS: Good choice.
J: what about you?
HS: The Notebook.
J: really?
HS: Yes. Why?
J: do you say that to impress girls or because it's actually your favorite?
HS: Would you rather I have said a film with lots of car chases?
J: no
J: but i went out with a guy who was a film major once
HS: Is that a bad thing?
J: let's just say it won't be happening again
J: he thought he was superior for disliking popular movies. i hate that
HS: Well, I love The Notebook and I love Ryan Gosling
J: now THAT is something we can agree on!
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(six weeks later)
J: BIG NEWS
J: LIKE HUGE
J: GROUNDBREAKING
HS: And here I was thinking you forgot about me.
J: i texted you yesterday
HS: You asked me if my dick could move on its own.
J: a legitimate question! i nearly had a heart attack when i saw it in person
J: but i was also weirdly fascinated. my question was purely scientific!
HS: You said you had news?
J: right!
(twenty minutes later)
HS: Are you making me wait to create anticipation?
J: no sorry i got a phone call.
J: i got my first real gig as a stylist
HS: That's great! Congratulations!
J: thanks
HS: You don't sound excited anymore. What happened to all caps?
J: my mother happened
HS: Still not on board, then?
J: she told me it was a waste of time and that i should get a real job
HS: You're still gonna take it though right?
J: i don't know. maybe she's right. the pay is less than ideal. more like i'm being paid in experience, and it's not the clientele i was imagining...
HS: But it's a foot in the door, right? That's something.
J: i guess
HS: Make connections. Get good references. And who knows, you might actually enjoy yourself.
J: you're right.
J: it's for some up and coming band that's going on tour. pretty sure i was what they could afford
HS: Don't sell yourself short. You're gonna do great.
J: thanks. i hardly even know you and you're currently my biggest supporter
HS: What happened to Bill?
J: ancient history
HS: What was wrong with him? He seemed nice.
J: yeah
J: his girlfriend thought so too.
HS: On behalf of all men: Sorry. We truly are the worst.
J: agreed. what about you? still single?
HS: Yes, though people keep trying to set me up on dates.
J: the horror!
HS: Ha ha
HS: I just want to meet someone on my own terms.
J: i get that
J: i just want to meet someone who's actually a decent human being
HS: I'll be on the lookout.
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(three weeks later)
J: i think i've decided that tour life is not for me
HS: oh?
J: yeah. sitting on a bus for hours and hours with only myself to keep me company? no thanks
HS: it can't just be you on the bus can it?
J: no but i have a hard time making friends right away. and a lot of the crew for this tour are older than me
HS: are your clients nice at least?
J: yeah. one of them tried to hit on me, which i guess i should take as a compliment, but i am on the clock. no flirting for me
HS: a professional then. or are you not into the musician type?
J: not sure. i haven't dated one before
J: i told you that the other day
HS: right. must've slipped my mind
HS: but back to taste in men. is it all about looks for you or do you like funny guys?
HS: are you the type to sleep with someone on the first date? because i feel like that's very telling about a girl
J: who is this?
HS: what do you mean? it's me
J: it's not. you're not texting like a middle aged woman and you're acting like a total ass
HS: Sorry. I thought I'd try something new. And I was just curious. Can't blame a guy for asking right? You did send some guy you barely knew a picture of yourself
HS: It was very wholesome by the way. Maybe try a little more skin next time and you'll get the response you want. You can practice here if you'd like.
J: oh my god
HS: What?
J: this was a mistake. i'm such an IDIOT
J: was this some kind of prank?
J: whoever you are, you're sick
J: don't text me again
HS: June, I'm so sorry. That was my friend he was just being stupid.
HS: Last time I leave my phone anywhere.
HS: June?
HS: June please.
HS: That wasn't me I swear!
HS: I'm sorry.
(three weeks later)
HS: Day 21 of trying to get you to respond.
HS You probably blocked me which is fine. I don't blame you.
HS: But if you DO happen to read these and are just ignoring me...
HS: I'm sorry. Again. For like the millionth time.
J is typing...
HS: June?
J: i should've blocked you
HS: Why didn't you?
J: because as insane as it sounds, you've become a close friend
HS: I feel the same. I'm really sorry about before. I swear it was one of my mates. I would never say something like that.
J: that's what makes this whole thing crazy! i don't actually know you, so how do i know if i can trust you?
HS: I mean you even noticed that he wasn't texting like me. I would never ask you questions like that, June. I never have.
HS: And I do NOT text like a middle aged woman by the way
J: i guess that's true
J: i think it just doubled down the fact that we don't actually know each other. this whole thing is ridiculous if you think about it too long. it gives me a headache sometimes.
J: i know we've joked about it but...this could be potentially dangerous
HS is typing...
HS: I could send you a voice note.
J: you would do that?
HS: You're right. This whole thing is ridiculous but...I don't know, I trust you, and I consider you a friend.
J: a friend you say?
HS: That's all I'm willing to admit for one day
J: and what about tomorrow?
HS is typing...
HS (voice recording): Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.
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(one day later)
Y/n hated how much her stomach flipped every time her phone pinged with a new message.
It was so reckless and dangerous and utterly ridiculous. She didn't know who H was, she didn't even know what time zone he lived in, and yet she felt like she knew him.
And after hearing his deep voice—deep British voice—on the voice recording, Y/n determined that he wasn't some creep in his forties like she'd originally thought.
Since sending that voice recording, they'd sent each other messages like that all night. And by all night she meant all night. They stayed up late sending voice recordings back and forth. It was the longest conversation they'd held to date, which was surprising considering that they often missed each other during certain hours. Just based on what hours of the day they texted the most, Y/n figured H lived somewhere in Europe, which gave her peace of mind considering he couldn't exactly kidnap her if he was a whole ocean away. But the last couple weeks their schedules seemed to be lining up, though Y/n chalked it up to all the traveling she'd been doing lately.
One thing she was certain of was that she adored H's voice. It was soft and deep, but got raspier the longer they spoke. And at times he would whisper in his messages, like he had to keep his voice down. The hushed tones made her shiver.
Y/n didn't call H, and he never offered. But she wanted to, boy did she want to. No matter how terrifying that thought was. A full-fledged phone call seemed more...real to Y/n. With the messages, she and H were still in their little bubble. It was stupid, but she needed that bit of separation. She was becoming attached to someone she'd never met.
Walking through the halls of a stadium in Canada, Y/n pulled up past conversations with H. It was too embarrassing to admit to anyone out loud, but she felt like she really knew him. He was endearing, had a silly sense of humor, had good taste in music, and was honest. Well, as honest as either of them could be. Outside of the one slip up with H's friend, Y/n believed what he said to her over text. Maybe that made her naive, but their conversations were legit. He felt like a friend, and she knew he felt similarly.
Maybe tomorrow I'll admit a little more.
Y/n had no idea what that could mean. She of course knew what she wanted it to mean, but what she wanted rarely ever lined up with reality.
Y/n looked up from her phone to make sure she didn't pass the right door. The one in front of her read, Harry Styles in big bold lettering. She quickly hurried past and continued down the hall to where the dressing room for Five Seconds of Summer was.
Harry Styles was a bit of an enigma. Even though she was on the same tour as him and One Direction, Y/n hardly ever saw him. And when she did, his nose was always in his phone, completely closed off to the world around him. He just had this vibe that said, "don't talk to me," and Y/n received that message loud and clear. The Five Seconds of Summer boys seemed to get on with all the members of One Direction, but Y/n usually made herself scarce whenever they came by the dressing room, for no other reason than too much testosterone in one room.
"You want to come out after the show, Harry?" Y/n heard one of the boys ask. Michael.
"Um...No. I think I'll have to pass tonight, boys. Sorry."
"What? Big date tonight?"
"Something like that."
Y/n felt frozen to the linoleum floor. She knew that voice. She'd spent all night listening to that voice.
"Holy shit."
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galedekarios · 9 months
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gale's early access dialogue transcripts - part 2 b: the loss scene
in early access, gale had two additional major scenes in act i: the deer stew scene and the loss scene, both of which would happen during a long rest at camp.
the scenes in early access usually happened in this order:
-1: first night long rest scene (still in the final game) -2: mirror image scene (still in the final game) -3: deer stew scene (cut content / partially reused in act i) -4: weave scene (still in the final game) -5: loss scene (cut content) -6: tiefling party scene (ea version cut / partially reused in act ii last night alive scene)
you can watch the entire scene here. below you'll find the transcript of the scene itself as well as some additional info / context.
the loss scene revealed more about gale's life before the game, his abilities as a chosen of mystra and as an archwizard, as well as his status and his relationship with mystra. sadly, it was cut and only seems to have survived as (as of now) obsolete code:
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at a long rest, gale would have a ! and stand by the fire, trying and failing to cast a spell:
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Gale: [Fails to cast a spell] Gale: Khat-Tsjin Deth-Thra! Protag: [Wizard]: That was a failed spell if ever I heard one.  Gale: Failure. You'd think I'd be used to it by now. It’s getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 1]: You don't sound very happy there, Gale. Gale: Happiness is like a stray cat; sometimes it seeks you out, sometimes it ignores you. Tonight, I'm ignored. It's getting late. I think I'll turn in. Perhaps some sleep will do me good. - Protag [Option 2]: Is something wrong? Gale: Let's just say not all is right. But that goes for all of us. - Protag [Option 3]: Do you mind? I’d like some peace and quiet Gale: Quiet you can have – peace I can’t guarantee. Especially not peace of mind.
Protag [Wizard]: I didn't recognize your hand gestures. What spell were you trying to cast? Gale: A bygone spell from a bygone age. It doesn't matter. - Protag [Option 1]: They say you should never go to bed angry Gale: Isn’t that advice for couples? The only one I’m angry with is myself. Please – just let it rest. - Protag [Option 2]: Ever the mystery man, aren’t you? Gale: I simply have a lot on my mind. - Protag [Option 3]: Suit yourself. Goodnight. Gale: Goodnight.
Protag [Option 1]: [if Protag intiated Gale's romance during the Weave scene] Come, you know I care about you. I showed you when we shared that spell. Gale: So you did. Very well. -> See below - Protag [Option 2]: [Insight] We shared the Weave the other night. Now share what's on your mind.    Gale: [Failure] Tonight's not a night for sharing. Tonight's a night for regrets. With that I bid you an evening better than my own.  Gale: [Success] -> See below - Protag [Option 1]: [Persuasion] I’m the leader of this party. I need to know what’s going on. Gale: [Success]: Very well. Just now, I was trying to cast a spell I once cast with ease, but I failed. You see, this fire – there was a time that I could make it come alive. That it would take the shape of a dragon and roar in delight. There was a time I could silence a Beholder with a word, and lift a tower from its foundations with a flourish. There was a time I was all but one with the Weave. But no more – a mere shadow of the wizard I used to be. Why? Because I’ve lost. Gale [Failure] You're the leader and I will follow you where you go, not down the path of my own regrets. With that I bid you good night. - Protag [Option 2]: [Intimidation] You will tell me, and you’ll tell me now. Gale: [Failure] I said ‘please’, but that courtesy was a mere formality. What I meant was; you will let it rest. With that I bid you an evening better than my own.  Gale: [Success]: Very well. -> See above
Protag [Option 1]: I don’t understand. What is it that you’ve lost? Gale: I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 2]: Who are you? Gale: I am the man who came after – after having lost... - Protag [Option 3]: If this is meant to be suspenseful, I assure you it’s not. Gale: You don’t understand! I’ve lost… - Protag [Option 4]: It’s all right, you don’t have to tell me. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend. I want you to know that  - Protag [Option 5]: [Persuasion]: You can tell me. You can trust me. Gale [Failure]: Trust is not the issue. The issue is that the truth doesn’t matter. Secret or revealed, the outcome is the same.  Gale [Success]: I’ve lost Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. To turn the eye of my muse upon me. To win the favour of a goddess. But I failed, and all I invoked was death and dismissal. My death. Her dismissal. - Protag [Option 6]: [Insight] Go on. Every burden is easier to carry when shared. Gale [Failure]: I’m strong enough. I’ll carry on alone. With that I bid you an evening better than my own. (Die/Dice Roll Fail) Gale: [Sucess] An apt enough observation.  I've... lost... Mystra. I sought to impress her personally. - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: I'm sorry. I cannot begin to understand being abandoned by the goddess. Gale: Thank you. You're a good friend. I often think of that moment we shared- - Protag [Cleric of Mystra]: When devotion is blind, the goddess loses sight of you. Rightly too. Gale: You pray to the goddess for every spell and every blessing. You devote your life to her – are we truly so different? Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream.
Protag [Option 1]: I’m sorry for you. Protag [Option 2]: I don't know what to make of what you've told me, but I sympathise. Gale: Thank you. You’re a good friend.  Gale: [Weave scene wasn't romantic] I want you to know that. I consider myself very lucky to have found you. -> Protag can initiate alternate romance route here -> See below - Gale: [Weave scene was romantic] I often think of that moment we shared together – one under the Weave. I hope you think about it too. / I'm glad to know you think about it too. [end] - Protag [Option 3]: Another fool pays for his arrogance. A tale as old as time. Gale: Arrogance? Ambition, rather. And ambition is a fine thing – until suddenly it no longer is. Then again, if that is how you judge me, there’s little I can do to change your mind. But know that I have this ambition still. First to save myself, and after that, the licence to dream. [end]
the loss scene also offered another way to initiate gale's romance:
Narrator: *You sense a moment of unspoken affection. You want to know where it may lead.*  Gale: I consider myself very lucky to have found you. Protag [Option 1]: I think perhaps we could be more than friends. Gale: Perhaps. - Protag [Option 2]: I consider myself lucky too Gale: Good. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. / And try not to think too poorly of me. A cat can look at a king. A wizard can look at a goddess.  - Protag [Option 3]: Don’t get carried away imagining feelings that aren’t there. Gale: I see. Say no more. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 4]: You are a good friend too, Gale. Gale: Hold on to that thought. I may just have to remind you before all is said and done. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding. - Protag [Option 5]: Lets not get sentimental, shall we? Gale: Fair enough. Goodnight. And thank you for your patient understanding.
after the loss scene ended, the player-initiated dialogue had several options following it: you were able to initiate the romance on gale's perhaps, you could address the fact that he mentioned that he thinks about the weave scene with the player still, and lastly, you were able to ask how he can still cast if he had lost mystra's favour so.
if you picked the "I think perhaps we could be more than friends." option during the loss scene, you could talk about what exactly he meant with gale after by intiating a conversation with him again:
Protag: When I said we could be more than friends, you answered 'perhaps.' What does that really mean? Gale: If I recall correctly, the Waterdhavian Dictionary of the Common Tongue of Faerun defines it as an adverb that conveys the meaning of 'it may be that', or 'possibly'. Sorry, sometimes I can't help but being quite insufferable. Gale: In seriousness, I’m glad you asked that question. Gale: You see, I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes we embrace. You are on such event, that soon, I would like to embrace.
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you could also follow up with him on the mention of him thinking about the weave scene still:
Protag: You said you think about the moment we shared under the weave. Do you think about it often? Gale: Do you? - Protag [Option 1]: Yes. Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.  - Protag [Option 2]: From time to time.  Gale: So do I. You see. I'm not a big believer in fate, but I do believe in serendipity. Life is a tempest of events that sometimes we brace against and sometimes embrace. You're one such event that one day soon perhaps I'd like to embrace.  - Protag [Option 3]: Not really. Gale: And yet you ask. I do, as a matter of fact.
the follow up for the loss scene would also include this dialogue:
Protag: There's one thing, I don't understand. If Mystra abandoned you, how can you still cast magic? Gale: The Weave is still here. All around us. Inside of us, too. As long as the goddess lives, magic is still a tangible thing for those who know how to touch. I've studied magic for many years and in as many ways, I'm still a more than capable wizard. Gale: It's just that I'm no longer able to perform those feats even archwizards would marvel at. To have one hand at the pulse of divinity. You have to remember that the Weave is a living thing. Both the embodiment and the extension of Mystra herself. Gale: She can give and she can take away. I'm afraid I'm still very much on her naughty list.
anyhow, this wraps the loss scene up.
overall, i'm extremely sad this was cut. i think with minor adjustments this scene would have worked not only to combat the scene disparity amongst the companions, but it also would have fleshed out gale's backstory and character even more!
i hope this was helpful to some of you!
coming up next:
-part 1: the three tadpole dreams -> completed -part 2: major cut scenes: the deer stew scene & the loss scene -> completed -part 3: minor cut scenes: abandoned temple of jergal, failed to save arabella, talking to the paladins of tyr and agreeing to go after karlach, edowin and the tadpole reveal, mayrina giving ethel's wand to her or breaking it, handing astarion over to the gur or defending him, reaching the druid grove, killing lae'zel, reaching the goblin camp & looking for halsin, killing the druids, priestess gut & the brand & the cult of the absolute, dror ragzlin and talking to the dead mind flayer, ogre couple, necromancy of thay, ethel, zhentarim chest, myconid colony -part 4: gale's condition & the way it was treated in early access
taglist: @chainsawmascara, @randomfanner, @tacogoats, @khajiit-necromancer, @gwinharper, @galesenchantedpanties, @swampfaerie, @ardently-queer, @nirraein, @gale-enjoyer, @xiv-wolfram, @kairoswouldnever, @a-psychopathic-dream, @toboldlydammitjim
i thought i'd tag the people i'd seen taking an interest in my original post! if you want to be taken off the taglist, or added, please let me know!
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idkwhatever580 · 4 months
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Always remember the things she said
Masterlist
Based on the song “as good a reason” by Paris Paloma (the girl who wrote “labor”)
Pairings: Natasha romanoff x reader | Wanda maximoff x reader!platonic\older sister vibes | Wanda maximoff x Natasha romanoff!platonic\older sister vibes again
Prompt: two occasions happen where Natasha and y/n give their sisterly advice to Wanda, and she’s the first one to connect the dots.
Warnings: swearing, songfic
A/N: guys I love a good songfic. this is giving me life right now btw. I’m living for this song.
Here’s the song if you want to listen. It’s not important that you hear it but it’s soooo good
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Wanda and Pietro just joined the team.
Of course Pietro was busy recovering from almost bleeding out, and Wanda was getting tested for her abilities.
After most of the screenings were done she was pretty tired. And you were there to help her settle in.
You went with her to the party that night since Tony used their presence as a good reason to celebrate.
Wanda had sat next to you the whole night almost as you were elegant and beautiful in your own right. And you knew it. Suddenly she speaks up after not having said much more than a peep all night.
“You really know what you’re doing.”
“Hm?”
“I mean. You look like you love yourself so much and it’s attractive to everyone. It draws eyes towards you. The way you carry yourself”
You smile and thank her and nod your head.
“I didn’t always know how to own the room.”
She turns her head and says
“When did you change? Or become like this?”
You smile and say
“Can I tell you a story?”
She nods interested now.
You sit back as you recall that fateful night.
“One night. I was at a party not unlike this one.”
Wanda nods along and you start
“I met a woman with lips so red. A face so lined like spider webs. I’ll always remember the things she said. They were so wise, she opened my eyes and they’ll never close again.”
Wanda asked
“What’d she say? What did she do?”
You smile at her innocence and intrigue
“Oh how she sighed when she stubbed her cigarette. I felt compelled to enquirer of her success. ‘How do you do, how can you be so in love with yourself? Tell me please cause I need help’”
I smile at my youthful innocence and say
“I was just like you in that moment I guess. Which is why I’m telling you this story.”
Wanda is already on the edge of her seat.
“She said… ‘Every time you are succeeding there’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.’”
I take a sip of my drink and say
“I was being manipulated by one of my exes. And she helped me realize I didn’t even like him and I freed myself from his grasp with her help. ‘Our fear it lines his pockets love, so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup of wine. You don’t need him you don’t need me. With that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.’”
I smile at Wanda’s face. She’s incredibly sweet.
“What happened to the woman?”
I chuckle and say
“Well, I did exactly what she said not to do”
Wanda furrows her eyebrows and says
“What? But you’re doing what she said to do right now yes?”
I smile and say
“Partially. See. The first part I listened to yes. But the second part. I didn’t listen so good.”
Wanda tilts her head slightly and says
“What did you do?”
“I mixed my poison with hers. But not in the way you might think. I simply fell in love with her”
Her eyes widen and she’s on the edge of her seat
“What happened to her though?”
I smile and say
“We got married.”
Wanda looks shocked and she says
“You’re married?!”
I hush her and say
“Yes but not many people know. It’s to keep her safe in a way. Being an avenger is risky. I wouldn’t want the love of my life to get hurt now would I?”
Wanda shakes her head and we continue on with the night without another question.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Wanda has been with the avengers for a few months now and she’s been adjusting perfectly.
She is like family to them and she is at a gala sitting next to Natasha. You were drug off by Tony to talk to people. And to pass the time Wanda says
“Tell me a story.”
Natasha raises a brow and says
“A story?”
Wanda nods her head and says
“Like. Something that has happened to you that you’ve never told someone. That has a meaning behind it I guess. I guess what I’m asking is tell me a story and give me advice as well”
Natasha smiles when she pictures the perfect memory in her head.
“I’ve got a story. A few years ago I was at a party.”
Wanda nods along
“I met a young girl with eyes so bright. She was already getting sick of life. She had this boy who was controlling her basically. Her arms were laden with his merchandise. She asked me why I no longer try and waste my time and I said ‘spite’”
With a smirk Natasha continues
“I said… ‘Cause every time you are succeeding. There’s an old man somewhere seething, and spite’s as good a reason to take his power. When you hate the body you are in, oh love, you’re acting just for him as he counts his gold and green in his ivory tower.”
Wanda furrows her eyebrows as she recognizes those words.
“‘Our fear it lines his pockets love so take that rage and bottle up and put a drop into his cup. You don’t need him you don’t need me, with that poisoned bottle you’ll be free, but be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine.”
Wanda mumbles the last words trying to recall where she had heard it before
“Be damn sure you don’t mix it up with mine”
When she makes the connection she says
“And then you ended up marrying her!”
Natasha furrows her eyebrows in shock and she says in a hushed tone
“How did you know that?”
Wanda responds
“She told me”
“Y/n told you that we’re married? We agreed to not tell anyone without each others consent.”
Wanda shakes her head.
“She told me her point of view of that exact moment and said ‘I met a woman with lips so red. Always remember the things she said’ and I remembered that she said that she married the woman but she didn’t tell me anything else. And I put two and two together and boom baby!”
Natasha smiles and says
“You’re the first person to figure it out. It’s funny because I told her not to mix our poisons and we did”
Wanda smiles and says
“I think you work well together. Like your poisons complement each others.”
Natasha smiles and says
“Thank you. And good job at remembering the woman’s words”
She smirks and Wanda giggles.
You finally break free from the people talking to you and you immediately make your way over to Natasha and Wanda and say
“Up to no good?”
Nat turns around and says
“Actually. Wanda has something she’d like to tell you”
You look at her waiting for her to say it and she gets all shy
“Um. I know who the woman with lips so red is”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise and you say
“Nat? Did you tell her?”
Nat shakes her head and she says
“She figured it out all by herself. She’s a smart one”
You nod your head and say
“I always knew she was smarter than she let on. Congrats on being the first to find out.”
Wanda nods her head and she says
“You shouldn’t hide it. I think you would be New Yorks top power couple”
You sigh and say
“It’s for our own protection. If we were to let that out someone might use us against the other”
Wanda nods and says
“But you have each other. You know you’ll come for each other. You know every avenger would drop everything to help you”
I nod and say
“You’re right. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to soft launch”
Nat smiles and says
“Let’s do it”
I grab my ring from my necklace that keeps it there and I put it on my finger. As does Natasha and Wanda smiles and claps excitedly
“I feel like a proud sister!”
I smile and say
“Good. You are our sister.”
She smiles and says
“Slay”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Taglist
@ilovesnat @ihartnat @marvelnatasha12346 @moistblobfish @justarandomreaderxoxo
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Text
Stuck in Planning Stage of Writing
Anonymous asked: Do you have any advice on how to get out of the planning stage and more into the doing stage of writing? I’m up to my ears in notes for scenes and fragments of dialogue between characters. I know where I want to go with the story, I’ve even written a handful of scenes when the ideas come to me, but now that I have this lump of thoughts I need to start organizing and placing them all in their rightful spaces. The one thing I truly know is how much I’d love to see this through. Do you have any advice for a girl who’s unwittingly made herself stuck with a puzzle?
[Ask edited for length]
Planning a novel can sometimes be like digging a really deep hole for a specific purpose, then suddenly realizing you've stranded yourself at the bottom of the hole without a ladder. You've spent so much time digging the hole, you'd like nothing more than to get out of the hole and move forward with whatever project required you to dig the hole in the first place. There's just one problem: you can't teleport yourself out of the hole. You have to climb... or, ideally, build yourself a ladder to climb out with whatever materials are available to you.
That's probably where you are right now with your story. The hole you've dug was necessary, and it's good that you dug it, but as much as you'd like to just magically leap out and write your story, you can't do that. You have to build yourself a ladder to climb out of the hole first. So...
My go-to emergency "get out of the planning hole I've dug myself into" ladders are timelines, scene lists, and outlines.
Timelines: Your story may take place over a single day or several centuries, but either way, time flows in your story. All of those notes and fragments of dialogue and partial scenes are moments or events that happen within the time frame of your story. So, plotting those moments and scenes out on a timeline--according to when they need to happen--is about the easiest way to break your story down into its existing pieces and to see what's missing/where.
There are lots of ways you can format a timeline, such as a table, a list, a horizontal timeline, calendar, or a roadmap timeline. My go-to is a basic two-column document where the left column is date/time and the right column is the moment/event. There are also apps and online tools that will help you build a timeline in various formats.
Horizontal Timeline:
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Calendar Timeline:
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Table Timeline:
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More info: Making a Timeline for Your Story Scene Lists: Stories are made up of scenes, so a list of those scenes is another great way to organize the events of your story. You may even find that creating a scene list is easier after making a timeline, because a timeline may help you see where certain moments or events need to be their own scenes and which can be combined together into a single scene. Just like timelines, scene lists can be as simple or complex as you want to make them. Once again, my go-to is a simple two-column document with the left column for the scene number and the right column for the scene summary, preferably just a sentence or two. Ultimately, once I have my rough timeline and scene list done, I usually combine them into one multi-column document along with my story structure beats.
Table Scene List with Beats:
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Complex Scene List/Timeline/Beat Sheet:
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More info: Scene Lists
Outlines: Outlines can be really any format you want them to be, and some people count timelines and scene lists as their outlines. My go-to outline is just an exhaustive beginning to end summary of everything that needs to happen. Sometimes, just working through your story from beginning to end can be the best way to make sense of all those disparate pieces you've been piling up.
More info: Guide: How to Outline a Plot Story Structure: Finally, I want to talk a bit about story structure templates like Save the Cat Writes a Novel!, Larry Brooks story structure, seven point story structure, etc. Story structure templates can be a really great way to make sure you're hitting all the right story beats--almost like a road map through your story. It's just important to know you do not by any means have to stick to any particular story structure exactly. Use it as a guide, take what works, leave what doesn't, and don't panic if your beats don't fall exactly where it says they should. As long as your story is working, that's what matters. Some writers even like to frankenplan their stories using a variety of different structure templates.
More info: Creating a Detailed Story Outline (story structure)
Once you finally have a roadmap for moving forward, whether that's a timeline, scene list, outline, or all of the above, you know you're ready to start writing!
Final note: I just want to add that planning isn't for everyone. Some people are discovery writers who let their stories work themselves out as they go. The above is just meant for people who are planners, who have done a lot of planning, but need to pull that planning together into a cohesive, organized document. And... if you have all of the above and still find yourself unable to start, you might find help in the links below. Happy writing! More help:
Beginning a New Story Figuring Out Where to Start a Story Deciding How to Open Your Book How to Move a Story Forward Trouble Getting Started Have Plot, Can’t Write
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hi batman, i was wondering if you had some advice for starting to experiment sexually after the "normal" age for experimenting has passed.
im a college student, 20yrs, and i've been thinking lately about starting to experiment sexually, which i never really did in high school. i'm aromantic, so i never had partners who were interested in sex and i didn't care enough to go looking. but now that i'm older, i'm getting more curious about it.
however, i worry that being twenty with no sexual experience will turn off potential partners. i feel like most people my age already know what they're doing and wouldn't want to humor a virgin fumbling through his first time, especially in a casual sex setting. i also don't want to open myself up to judgement. i avoided sex for my own, partially trauma-based reasons and i dont want to have to explain it.
am i worrying too much? or is there a way to make this less of a problem?
i know this is a complex topic, and you're more of a sexual educator than advice-giver, but i'd appreciate any insight you have to share. if you don't have anything, feel free to ignore, and i hope you have a nice day 🦇💕
hi anon,
yes, you are worrying too much, and the way to make it less of a problem is to stop thinking of it as a problem.
20 is absurdly young to decide that you're simply too old for something. there's no Sex 101 homework that you're expected to complete by a mandatory date; the right time to start exploring sex with other people is when you feel ready to do so. if someone else gives you a hard time about it then congratulations, you've spotted a person you probably wouldn't want to have sex with anyway.
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moonlightspencie · 1 year
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Devils Roll the Dice…
Description: A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another? (TWO-PART MINISERIES)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
Warnings: alcohol consumption, sexual references/content (i’ll accept 16+ because its definitely not more than pg-13 material but writing anything sexy makes me feel weird if i know teenagers are reading it)
Word Count: 4k
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I took a deep breath, looking in the mirror. I knew we were meeting the new recruit today, and just the thought of it exhausted me. Not that I didn’t like meeting new people. I just hated the break in routine.
We had a concrete team. Kate had already joined. We didn’t need anyone else coming in and messing up a very new rhythm we’d found with each other.
I finished tying my tie, pressing it down, and preemptively steeling myself against the new person. Probably some guy who didn’t know the difference between a tyrannical and enforcing sadist. Half of the students I’d met in recent guest lectures only wanted to go into the field because they’d listened too many crime podcasts anyways.
I walked into the bullpen, taking my seat as usual, ready to turn that cold shoulder at the first misstep of whoever this mystery recruit was. Unfortunately, I felt anything but cold when Hotch called our attention to the figure standing in his office doorway. He stood partially in front of her before he allowed her to stand right next to him as he introduced us. My eyes locked onto her at an embarrassing rate, and I felt far more embarrassed when she caught me and flashed a smirk.
She was anything but shy as a newbie, and for some reason that thrilled me. She wasn’t afraid to get into conversation with the team immediately as she unpacked her things at her new desk. She wasn’t afraid to tell Garcia everything she wanted to know. Much to my surprise, she wasn’t afraid to send me the cutest smiles every time she caught my eyes on her.
“Hey,” she said, walking up to me as I stood in the kitchenette.
Truthfully, I needed the time alone because of her. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and it was becoming a problem considering I was supposed to be doing work. She was just so… Different. She was sweet and funny and so attractive it made my mouth dry up.
“Hi,” I said after a moment. “Coffee?”
She nodded, holding out her mug. I filled it up from the pot in my hands after I topped off my own. She blew on it, looking up at me with big eyes. I watched her, not realizing how long it had been until she broke eye contact, a smile settling onto her face.
“You’re gonna keep watching me blow on my coffee?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but fell quiet when she smiled again. She moved the mug from her face.
“Got any advice for me with the BAU?”
I swallowed. “Uh, you came from Intelligence, right?”
She nodded, brows raised. “Yeah. How’d you know?”
“I was listening earlier. You said it to JJ.”
“Alright, so I know one fact about you other than the eidetic memory,” she said with a chuckle.
I smiled softly. “Right. Sorry, I haven’t been very talkative today.”
“That’s okay,” she said, giving me a reassuring smile. “I’ve tried really hard to get into this unit, so I don’t plan on leaving any time soon. We’ll have time to get to know one another.”
I nodded quickly. “Uh, so, advice. Um, I guess you should know this team is a lot like a family. We really care about each other, and we’re pretty close. Especially us field agents.”
“Good to know,” she nodded thoughtfully. “If you have any more wisdom floating around in that big ol’ brain of yours, let me know. I already heard Penelope calling you ‘boy wonder’, so I’d love to see you live up to that reputation.”
She finished off her sentence with a wink, turning away from me and rejoining the others who still gathered around her desk. She was shiny and new, and everyone wanted to know about her. I couldn’t blame them. I’d love to know as much as I could get my hands on.
One thing I learned very quickly is that she had a habit of flirting.
At first, I thought it was a general behavior she exhibited towards everyone. Then, after some keen observation I came to a terrible and exciting realization: she really only flirted with me.
I think most of it was due to the fact that she just liked to see me flustered. She could make it happen very easily, too. All it took was a sly, under-the-breath comment in passing and my face was turning red.
She’d smile at me, enjoying the tint in my cheeks. I’d stare back at her, just glad to see her smile.
Four weeks in and I was entirely wrapped around her finger.
She wasn’t shy about flirting on cases either, though she was always really good about making sure the only thing anyone ever saw was me being a total dork.
I almost never tried flirting back. I was pretty terrible at it anyways. But there were occasions when I’d make an attempt.
We were working on a case that leaned heavily on the geographical profile, meaning: I spent the entire case in the precinct. I finally cracked it after a few days, and the team found themselves at a farm. One of my least favorite places for a case to be, leaving me very thankful that I wasn’t along for the search and rescue. I really only went to the farm because everyone else was there.
By the time that I actually got to the crime scene, the unsub had already been apprehended. So, I stood near the cars, waiting on the others to come back. It was several minutes before I heard Hotch and Derek walking up and talking to one another. I turned as the rest of the team followed several steps behind. Y/N came into view last, and I couldn’t help but let out a laugh as she walked closer.
She gave me an exasperated smile, throwing her arms up as I took her in. She was covered in dried mud, clearly having taken a fall somewhere gross.
“I tripped and fell while doing absolutely nothing. I feel like you, all clumsy,” she joked, laughing.
I smiled, looking her up and down.
“How are you still pretty covered in dirt?”
“You can’t do that,” she said quickly, looking over her shoulder. “Not right now, anyways.”
I scrunched up my face. She had been much more forwardly flirtatious on cases before now. I couldn’t fathom how this was any different, especially since all I did was make a flirty comment. I guess my facial expression could’ve conveyed more. I seemed to have a hard time concealing my feelings for her when she looked at me the way she did.
“Why?”
She looked behind her again, like she was keeping an eye out for someone. But the only person there was Morgan. Maybe she was afraid of him telling on us for flirting on the job. But he was the one that relentlessly flirted with everyone else. Why would he be coming after us? Maybe she didn’t know that well enough.
“Morgan flirts with people all the time. He’s not going to—”
“Spencer,” she groaned, grabbing my arm and pulling me behind the SUV.
I furrowed my brow again. “What?”
“If I tell you something, you have to promise not to get weird about it.”
“Get… Weird?”
“Like, don’t be all freaked out,” she clarified.
“Okay,” I said, unsure where this was heading.
She cleared her throat, stealing one more glance at him. She looked back at me, chewing her lip with a coy smile. I had a feeling that now wasn’t the time, but I blushed, unable to stop myself from fully taking her in. Luckily, my upstairs brain started working again just in time to give all my attention to her as she started speaking.
“I’m sure this will make things a little awkward,” she stated, sighing softly, “but, he and I… Uh, Derek and I, we have a history.”
I quirked a brow. “Oh? How?”
She stared at me, expecting me to take a hint that I was most certainly not picking up on.
“We… We were involved. Romantically.”
My brows shot up. “Oh.”
“Yeah. It was only like five months, really, but,” she shrugged. “That happened. Hence why it’s been a little awkward between us.”
She said that bit like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but I hadn’t been any the wiser about it. Maybe it was just another case of me being a little more oblivious than some of my coworkers about behaviors that didn’t have to do with the job. Maybe I was just too enamored with her to pay attention to how she interacted with our coworker.
“I didn’t notice,” I said quietly.
“Good. I’ve been hoping to keep it on the down-low,” she said with a laugh. “I haven’t exactly wanted to endure teasing from the team about sleeping with Derek of all people.”
I swallowed, not having thought about the fact that she’d been… Physical with him. More so, that he’d gotten to be with her in that way. He’d seen her. Heard her. Felt her. All of her. I took in a breath, clearing my head of that image.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner if I was going to keep flirting like this,” she said, suddenly a little shy as she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I know you two are close.”
“Yeah. I’m surprised he didn’t tell us about you.”
She laughed. “Our relationship wasn’t completely… A serious thing.”
“Serious enough to last five months.”
She snorted. “Most of the time we spent together wasn’t exactly romantic. He was great, but we both kind of used each other. Hard time in life for both of us back then.”
“Ah,” I said, nodding curtly. “So it was mostly, uh— Sexual?”
She smirked, looking away. “Not entirely just that. But that was a lot of it.”
I nodded again, feeling my cheeks flush. She nudged my arm, pulling my attention again.
“It’s been well over a year now since that all happened,” she said quietly. “I just… I don’t want to rock the boat right now. Being new to the unit, I should probably try my best to be on everyone’s good side, you know?”
“I get it. I’ll stop with the flirting,” I said, giving what I hoped was an affirming smile.
She furrowed her brow. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It isn’t?”
“The flirting is fine, I just think… Maybe we should keep it a little more quiet when we’re around the others,” she shrugged. “If that’s okay.”
“You’re okay with me— doing that?”
“Spencer, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re crazy hot.”
I was certainly blushing now. I swallowed, blinking in surprise as I looked at her. Her smile only grew. She enjoyed teasing me. I couldn’t say I didn’t like it just as much as she did.
“Uh, th-thank you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Quit acting so shy as if you don’t already know.”
My eyes widened. “I’m not acting.”
“Every woman who meets you flirts with you.”
“No they don’t,” I argued, my brows knitting together.
“Are you blind?”
“No,” I said, still in a state of confusion.
She laughed it off. “Alright, boy wonder, we’d better join the group. They’re gathering like vultures.”
I followed after her as she integrated into the group where they stood as Hotch spoke. She was so good at finding her way in. I was thrilled to see how she’d find her place in my life going forward.
In the following weeks, she gave me an idea of what that would look like. Stolen glances at every turn had my heart racing. It went even faster every time she found a way to touch me in some inconspicuous way.
A hand on my arm as she asked about the maps I was working on. A brush of fingers as she’d hand me a coffee cup. Her shoulder pressed into mine to whisper to me some detail of a case that really could’ve been said at full volume.
She usually didn’t step past those boundaries though, ever cautious not to let herself get caught out by anyone else. The comments she made towards me were still relentless, however. I didn’t know how she had it hidden so well.
I, however, had much more trouble hiding my attraction, and I was sure I’d heard some of my teammates whispering to each other about it. They’d give me knowing looks every time I got caught out staring at her. Even Morgan gave what seemed like mostly-good natured glances my way when I paid a bit too much attention to her. Probably only because he didn’t know that I knew about them, and even more likely didn’t want anyone else to know. It would be a tell-tale sign if he didn’t make fun of me.
It felt wrong to be keeping this odd little secret from him. I wasn’t necessarily sneaking around with his ex-girlfriend, but we were still flirting. We were still hiding something from him. I wondered how he’d react if he found out, and hoped for my sake that he was well and truly over it.
Especially after our last night on a case in Georgia. The summer air in the state was hot, and it felt like it was actively pulling air from my lungs every time I went outside. Maybe it was some kind of metaphor for what was to come.
I held back for hours from going to her door. The teasing had been terribly relentless the entire time we were on the case, and the week before. Tension was building, and I knew if I was easily picking up on it, she definitely had to be.
I paced around my room, contemplating my options. If I went to her, there was a chance we’d finally talk about whatever was happening between us. There was also a chance she’d tell me to leave if I attempted to tell her how I really felt, and I’d be left pining over her probably forever. Both were pretty scary.
Either way, I decided it was better than continuing to fall for her without having a real conversation about it. I walked to the door, my hand on the handle.
She stood just outside my door, her hand raised as if she was about to knock when I tugged it open. A smile graced her pretty lips, her hand dropping.
“Looks like we had the same idea,” she stated, pushing past me into my room. “Good timing.”
“It was.”
She chewed at her lip, looking around the space with her arms crossed. I stared at her as she took it all in, waiting for whatever was on her mind to be put out into the open. She looked back at me, apparently reading my mind.
“We’re both waiting on each other to speak up, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“This is a ridiculous thing we’re doing right now. It’s like sneaking around with any of the fun parts,” she said with a laugh.
“I think it’s fun,” I shrugged.
“It could be more fun.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. But I’m happy just to have your attention.”
She smirked, walking towards me.
“I think you’re kind of needy.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s cute.”
I blushed, giving her a smile as I looked away. She still looked at me like she was about to devour me. I could sympathize with all of those animals I saw in nature documentaries as the predator closed in on them. It was in vivid color. She stalked closer and closer, knowing full well that my guard was down enough for her to launch an attack.
“You really enjoy this, don’t you?” I asked. “Knowing you make me flustered. Half of the time I can hardly talk when I’m around you. Everyone knows it, and they all think it’s one-sided.”
She leaned her chest into mine, surely able to feel how fast my heart beat for her.
“Are you embarrassed by it?”
“No.”
Her hands crept their way up under my shirt, leaving goosebumps in their wake as if her touch didn’t feel as hot as the sun. I watched her silently, letting her do whatever she wanted. She couldn’t asked me to jump out of the seventh-floor window with her and I would’ve gone head first without a question.
Panic only crept in when she started leaning in closer to my face, and I realized her lips were on a path that would end with mine.
“Wait,” I said, grabbing her wrists.
Her eyes widened, pulling her head back slightly.
“Are you okay?”
“I just don’t think this is a good idea,” I breathed out.
She retreated from me, and it was hard not to let my body follow hers. She was only a step away, but it felt like a continent’s worth of space. My fingers itched to reach out and pull her back in.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly, eyes wandering over her face.
She swallowed. “I don’t know what you want, Spence. One minute you’re telling me you want me, the next you’re pushing me away.”
Logic kept trying to overtake my head. It was annoying.
“I can’t… You’re Morgan’s ex.”
She sighed. “I’m also a human being. I am my own person separate from him. One that is very attracted to you.”
I wet my lips, not missing how her eyes followed the action. I felt a fluttering in my stomach just watching her react. She smiled, as always, catching me in the act of being wildly into her. She took half a step forward.
“You’re telling me this is a bad idea, but every time I look at you I’m getting a different message.”
I swallowed. “I know.”
“So, which is it?”
“It is a bad idea,” I started, intending on making it a whole sentence, but not knowing what to say next.
“But?”
“But I don’t know if I care enough to stop it.”
She smirked again, not holding back this time. She reached up, pulling me down to her lips with her hands wrapped in my hair. I wound my arms around her waist, pulling her tightly into me. I relished feeling her body fully pressed against mine, especially when she let out a contented sigh as I deepened the kiss. She started guiding my backwards towards the bed, and I obliged her silent request until the backs of my knees were against the mattress.
“Sit,” she requested, the word whispered against my lips.
I did, peering up at her as she staying standing in between my legs. She grasped my chin in her soft hand, tilting up my head to see me.
“How sure about this are you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
She smiled. “Good. I don’t either.”
She dropped into my lap, kissing me like we hadn’t even stopped in the first place. My hands gripped her hips for the first time, and she was everything I had daydreamed about. Soft and responsive. I couldn’t imagine being the one to let her go, and I found myself questioning Morgan’s judgment in that moment.
It made me feel even better every time she smiled or made a little comment about the ways I reacted to her. Usually I’d be embarrassed, but she just made me feel good.
“Sweet boy,” she mumbled against me, moving her lips from my jaw and down my neck.
My hands found themselves wandering across her back, and my eyes were practically stuck shut as I felt her lips against my skin. I could’ve died right then and there and been happy to go.
But a knock at the door sent us both into high alert. She sat up straight, looking towards the door.
I stood with her legs still wrapped around me before I turned and dropped her on the bed. She bounced on the mattress, looking up at me with a surprised smile.
“Just— Stay here and stay quiet. Please,” I said, then walked to the door, trying to frantically fix my hair.
I cleared my throat as I opened the door, forcing myself to not look like I was embarrassingly close to…
I shook myself out of that thought the second I saw Morgan. He definitely put an end to any sexy thoughts that clouded my head.
“Hey, kid, can I ask you something?”
I furrowed my brow. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “I just… Do you know what’s been up with JJ? She’s been a little off. Won’t really talk to me, so I was wondering if she said anything to you.”
I let out a breath of relief. “No, she hasn’t told me anything. But I know Henry’s been pretty sick the past week. Maybe that’s it.”
“Hm,” he hummed, nodding slowly. “Alright, thanks. Just… Worried, you know?”
“Yeah,” I nodded. “It’s JJ, though. She’ll be okay.”
“Right, yeah, I know,” he nodded again. “Alright. Thanks, again. You get some sleep tonight, alright?”
I nodded, bidding him a goodnight. I shut the door, seeing her on the bed still. She was propped up on her elbows, smirking at me.
“That ruin the mood?”
I locked the door.
“Not particularly.”
To my surprise, she ended up being the one who wanted to take it slow. We kissed for another hour or so when I got back within her reach, but didn’t go much further. Not that I was in a position to complain. I was ecstatic just to be touching her, and she somehow felt the same about me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever understand why that was.
She’d told me when I’d dropped onto the bed, crawling over top of her, that she didn’t want to go all the way. She said it so sweet. Almost like she was afraid of whatever answer I’d give to her. As if I’d say I didn’t want to kiss her all night long.
Besides, I was pretty sure I’d spontaneously combust if we had gone any further.
We woke up the next morning, still holding onto one another. She had changed into my t-shirt before she climbed into bed with me, and looked absolutely incredible with her messy bed-head and sleepy smile.
“Good morning,” she mumbled.
“It is a very good morning,” I said, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
Her hand pressed against my cheek, the smile spreading on her face as she looked at me.
“You’re adorable,” she said quietly, granting me another kiss.
I sighed. “I don’t think I want to stop this.”
“Why would we?” she asked with an incredulous smile.
“Because, I mean, we can’t tell anyone about us,” I said with a shrug. “I just thought you wouldn’t want to make this— A thing.”
She wet her lips. “We don’t have to tell anyone in order to be together.”
I contemplated that for a moment. I’d never considered having a completely private relationship. At least not with someone who wasn’t actively being stalked. That was an entirely different scenario. I guess to her, it was probably scary to get into a relationship with one of your ex’s best friends. I couldn’t blame her for that.
I took a breath. “You… You want to keep it a secret?”
She nodded. “If that’s okay with you.”
“I’ll do whatever you want,” I said with a nod, not bothering to filter my thoughts as they came out into the open.
She smiled. “Anything?”
“Almost. I draw the line at murder.”
She laughed. “Team’d catch you anyways.”
I laughed right back, giving her another kiss. She leaned into my touch, shyness creeping into her face.
“I do really like you, Spencer.”
I nodded. “I do too.”
“This’ll be great, you know?”
She smiled brightly, causing one to form on my face. She brushed my hair away from my face, just looking at me.
“Yeah. I know.”
…ANGELS ROLL THEIR EYES (part 2)
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balkanradfem · 1 month
Text
I have a story to tell! It's about the laptop's broken power button.
I realized I wouldn't be able to turn my laptop back on if I ever shut it off, so I decided to keep it in 'Sleep mode', from which it can wake up by the spacebar key. I got an advice from a cool woman on tumblr to try and download a program that would allow me to power it up by opening the lid – however I didn't have internet at home, and so I had to wait for tomorrow, to go outside and get some public wifi.
I wake up at 6am, go to the park with my laptop in sleep mode, and discover that my laptop, has decided to power off completely, and is not interested in turning back on. I try to open and close the lid a few times, because that's how I brought it back to life last 2 times, but nothing. The plastic frame of the laptop is so badly broken it's being held together only by ductape and some internal parts have completely crumbled, including the power button.
At this point I had to go to work, so I spent my morning at work, putting a plan together in my head. When I came back home, I opened the closet, and got my old laptop out, the one that stopped working 3 years ago. I liked my old laptop so much, that after it died, I bought a used one that was the exact same mark and build, so that if my new laptop had a broken part, I could take it out of the old one. And now, I would figure out how to replace the power button.
I had not ever dissembled my laptop to this depth, to get to the power button you have to dissemble most of it, so I thought it would be a good practice to do it on the old laptop first. I tried to also watch a video on my phone on how to do that, but my phone just looked at me and went 'do you know how old I am? I am older than youtube. Respect me and get this nonsense out of my screen' and then it died. So I was on my own for this. I had experience replacing the hard drive, and the power jack, but I usually did the power jack in a sneaky way, only dissembling it partially and plugging it in at an angle. I didn't know if I could do the power button in a sneaky way.
Dissembling an old laptop was fun, but I did have to remove and unplug almost every single hardware in there, and I managed to remove the power button without removing the motherboard, so at least I had that going on for me. Dissembling my current laptop was an anxiety-ridden nightmare, I kept reminding myself that laptops are machinery, and they're made to be dissembled by males, so the parts can't be so fragile that they would stop working if I just unplug them and set them aside, and I would remember to plug everything back where it was. But even so, my brain was going 'The save of Stardew Valley is in here! If you mess it up its gone!'
I decided I wanted more shortcuts, and the frame of my laptop is already so broken, I was able to twist it and pull it apart without a complete disassembly, and I jammed the new power button and the little card that goes with it, in there, and screwed it in at an angle, using a knife tip instead of a screwdriver. You should have seen it; I had another knife handle stuck inside the laptop to keep it opened enough, a lamp on my shoulder, lightbulb aimed inside the laptop so I could see what I was doing, my hands at odd angles trying to locate the place where I could plug the card into the motherboard, it was brilliant. I was like an old master at work. And I plugged the damn thing in!
I assembled the laptop back nervously, again telling myself that putting a single screw into the wrong place will likely not destroy the laptop, and that it only matters it's all plugged in correctly. I opened the laptop, pressed the power button, and nothing. It didn't work.
Well what now? That was my only plan. I turned it over, started dissembling it, and I noticed right away that even with my trickery, the thing unplugged from the motherboard because I did not, in my mischief, pin it inside correctly. So I did the whole thing again, lamp on the shoulder and everything, and even before I managed to assemble the laptop back, the power button triggered from some internal debris and the laptop started powering on.
It's working now! I did it correctly. Now, while I was assembling it back and putting ductape all over it, it turned off 4 more times just because the frame is so broken it keeps triggering the power button accidentally, so I'm not having high hopes of this laptop surviving a long time, it's very old at this point, the fact that it works is a miracle and my persistence in replacing the parts. I can only have access to tumblr while I have a laptop! My phone laughs at me if I try to open an app on it. So, I'm here for now, due to the mischief and courage to open the laptop and mess with it, but, if I disappear randomly, the laptop said no, and I didn't manage to access tumblr in the local library because they block risky sites a lot.
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fuck-customers · 9 months
Note
Over the past few years working hospitality/customer service I've lost any and all sense of chill and thus absolutely love responding to patrons who don't seem to know how to mind their own fucking business with the most out of pocket shit.
For instance, I had this lady a few days ago come in to order and, being rude and invasive as customers usually are, she decides to make a comment abt my hair length along the lines of: "That's a bit short don't you think? It makes you look like a boy. As a mother I'd never let my child cut their hair that short." And so, feeling extra pissed off (bc I'm working an all day split and also a grown ass adult you pearl clutching cretin) and devious I respond: "Well, my mother isn't with us anymore so I don't think she has much to say abt it."
The fucking way her face dropped, holy shit. I had to try so hard to keep myself from laughing through the transaction. My mother is still very much alive - we're just a bit estranged, so it's like a partial truth. But this random lady doesn't need to know that.
Do I feel bad for guilt tripping her with the fake dead parent card? Not really. Imagine she have made that comment to someone who's parent was actually passed. Maybe it'll teach her to mind her own fucking business next time and remember she's just here to get food, not doll out unsolicited 'advice'.
Posted by admin Rodney.
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windvexer · 15 days
Note
Hi chicken, I hope you are doing well. I hope it’s okay to ask for advice : this last few days every single spirits I’ve been in contact with refuse to communicate with me. My main way of communicating with them is divination (regarding your post about not taking spirit communication posts as face value I typically don’t have vivid manifestations for context). I have what seems to me clear messages of figuring things out myself for the time being from the cards and I can’t help but feel a little bit abandoned. I was not talking to them on a day my basis but I believe I made some progress on a personal level lately and I may have had some assistance from them from time to time. Do you know if it is common and in your opinion what could be the meaning of this silence ? I can’t identify a way I could have offended all of them so suddenly, but still I hope I am not indefinitely banned from spirit communication. Any advice would be welcome if you don’t mind. Have a nice day.
We are partially in reference to this post (with helpful additions in the notes): Reasons to not always take spirit communication posts at face value
Good afternoon, anonymous friend. I'm sorry you're struggling with this. Of course without more details, I can only speak generally.
First, no, I can't imagine you are suddenly indefinitely banned from spirit communication. That's not really a thing (or, the explanation I believe is complex enough that it would detract from the rest of your questions).
Spirits going incognito or refusing to communicate for a period of time is common. This can happen for a wide variety of reasons. Don't be under the illusion that all spirit workers can immediately connect with any of their spirits at any time, and receive answers.
This post may be helpful to you, but I don't know if it's all that applicable if all you're doing is the occasional tarot reading: troubleshooting spotty spirit connections/“godphoning”
It seems that you may be framing this break of communication as punitive due to some offense you could have made.
In my experience, if you have really pissed off your spirits to the point where they are done with you, A) something major will have happened and you will know about it, and B) their exit will be felt in ways that transcend disappointing readings.
I believe the reason for this silence is what they have told you: that you ought to figure out this one for yourself.
I don't believe that spirits always have our "highest good" in mind, in the sort of New Agey universal sense that everything a spirit does to us is always good for us, so you have to suck it up.
But they do often tend to like us, and they can see further than we can, and in different directions than we are capable of looking. And such a person in that position may well look at you and say, "you need to figure this one out for yourself."
Support, after all, may atrophy a muscle.
This may be an opportunity to look to new places, develop new skills, and try new things. And, if these are trusted spirits, their advice may be in your best interest: they want you to figure it out for yourself.
Perhaps they want to see what you can do. Perhaps they know you can solve it on your own. Perhaps a spirit weather front is moving in and communication will be hazy for a while.
In any case, I expect it is probably a temporary lapse. They happen to the best of us.
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adolfusraptor1985 · 3 months
Note
I was going to send this as an anon but I want to learn to be open about my curiosities and felt this was a good start.
How did you know you were therian? What was the realization moment that told you?
And did you ever feel a sense of imposter syndrome? Not in regards to "but I'm not really an animal" type feelings, but more in the "Other therians won't accept I'm therian because X reason" type feelings?
Were you scared, or anxious about making the claim, about being open about the identity?
I'm asking because I've had some feelings, confusing ones, for a fairly long while now and the last year or two have been one discovery after another as I slowly branch into a space where I feel I'm really allowed to explore myself and who I am.
And I don't know if I'm therian or not, I don't know if I have a right to call myself one, if it's my identity or if it's just that I wish being an animal were true of me.
I don't know if I'm therian, or just have wishes, or if it's just a matter of rejecting my self.
I don't know if even having these fears/anxieties/thoughts makes me therian, or means I'm definitely not.
How did you know? How would I know? And what do I need to do to fully understand?
For me, my realization of being a therian came to me similar to how I realized I was trans. I grew up loving animals a lot, more than people at times. I always pictured myself as an animal, almost 24/7. I kept getting older and tried to accept my self-image as an animal was just childish fantasy. I got into the furry fandom as a tween so I could have a more "real" or "mature" way of expressing myself as an animal.
Later on, I found the term therian through the internet. I was extremely hesitant at first to even interact with therian. Pretending to be an animal or animal character was one thing, but to actually believe you are one is another. I thought it was entirely delusional and absurd.
Once I started questioning my gender identity however, I started to gain a better understanding of therianthropy. I began to understand that feeling like an animal was similar to feeling like a different gender. It was an involuntary and integral experience that made someone who they are. I started reflecting on my own past, and how I grew up always feeling like an animal. I realized that being "human" was a shield that I had been hiding behind. That if I just let myself be, well- myself, I would be an animal. Not because I want to be, but because it feels right.
The first year of identifying as a therian was confusing to me. I wanted desperately to fit in and be respected both within and outside of the community. I stuck very strongly to the "I know I'm physically human, it's just a spiritual/psychological identity" sentiment. I convinced myself of a watered-down version of my real identity just so I would be accepted. I was definitely nervous with the idea of calling myself an animal, even if it was only partially.
Now though, I've grown out of that fear. I completely reject identifying as my biological species. Deep down, not being human feels right to me. I openly identify as transspecies and have been considering using the physical nonhuman label. I fall on the really "extremist" end of therianthropy so to speak. The majority of therians don't feel themselves to be an animal or nonhuman to great extent that I do. But I'm okay with that, because for the first time in my life I feel sure and comfortable with my identity.
As far as knowing whether you are a therian or not, I can't do much to help. The one thing you should keep in mind is that there are tons of reasons someone can be a therian. There's not one exact experience that defines it. My advice is to stop thinking about having to be exact. Find whatever feels best or the most comfortable to you.
Every single experience commonly held by therians isn't a requirement you have to meet. But at the same time, having any one of these experiences is enough to call yourself a therian if that feels right. There's no "rule book" on what you need to be a therian. Believing some part of you, in some way, is an animal, is all there is to it. This belief can come from anything, even if it's considered "unusual" in the community.
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zoeykallus · 1 year
Note
Okay. So, this is a bit weird. But maybe the Bad Batch (+ Gregor?) when their s/o is VERY protective over their baby when it's born? Even though it's the Batcher's kid too, s/o stares intently at them holding baby to make sure nothing bad happens, won't leave the baby's side, can hardly sleep because they are so on edge about something happening to baby when they aren't around, and is wary and tense about Batcher taking care of them?
I mean, I know the boys would do a good job, but I find myself doing this with my little brother when we was younger, my cousins, and friends kids - I get so overprotective because I'm scared something will happen, and anyone other than me and the Mom, I can get...pissy/snarly/angry when baby and I are separated. I have absolutely no clue why this happens?
But if it's not too much trouble, I would love to know how the boys would react. I am...a spicy, hot mess sometimes 😅
Aloha! 😊
I've heard of this phenomenon before, but I don't know exactly where it comes from. Though, I think it's called 'postpartum maternal separation anxiety' or it is a form of it.
I should utter a warning, I have no idea (experience) about motherhood, or parenthood (and I don't want to 😅 ), at least not first hand!
Nevertheless, I could be able to estimate how the boys react to it. Let me see… Most of this is not going to be very fluffy though. Sorry, I'm trying 😅
The Bad Batch/ Gregor x Reader HCs - The Overprotective Parent
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Warning: Angsty/Tiny bit of fluff and comfort
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Hunter
He is so confused that he says nothing at first when you carefully but impatiently take the baby out of his arms.
"Is something wrong?" he finally asks alertly.
"Everything's fine."
Hunter frowns, clearly sensing something is wrong, as he approaches you and the child again to touch it, you pull back from him.
"This is my child too," he says calmly but with his brows drawn together critically, "What do you think will happen if I touch it?"
You sigh and finally try to explain to him what is going on inside you. That you're worried and anxious if you don't take care of it yourself.
"We need to work on that" Hunter says seriously "It's our child, I'm the father, you can't keep it from me, it's not right or fair. You know me, I would never harm our baby".
Of course the rational part of your perception knows this, but there is unfortunately also an irrational part that sometimes takes control. You will have to find a way to deal with this together. Hunter is a good partner and father, he will not want to have his time with his child taken away. If you can't find a common ground on your own, it could have a very negative impact on your relationship.
However, Hunter is willing to accommodate you in some way if you are willing to do the same and perhaps allow outside help, possibly in a therapeutic form.
Echo
Your reaction surprises him, and he vacillates somewhat between confusion, annoyance, and concern.
"You're acting like you don't trust me all of a sudden. Is it the prosthesis? Are you afraid I'll drop the kid?" he asks, frowning critically.
"Among other things," you reluctantly admit.
Seeing how this statement hurts him, you regret saying something. He looks at you wide-eyed, then lowers his gaze to his scomp-link arm. Echo doesn't quite know if he's disappointed or angry.
"So I never get to hold our child?" he asks, and his voice has taken on a strange tone that you haven't heard from him before, there's something somber about it.
When he looks at you again his expression is bitter, "You can't deny me that, I've never given you a reason to mistrust me, this is my child too".
You try to explain to him how worried and insecure you are about the baby, in general, not just about him. His expression slowly softens a bit, and he seems to understand, at least partially.
"We'll have to do something about that. Maybe we should ask a doctor for advice"
Echo tries to be understanding, even if in this case he actually finds it difficult for once. He is determined to find a solution that you both can be happy with.
Wrecker
He is already overcautious because the baby is so tiny and he is so huge. It feels strange for him to have this small, wonderful but so fragile looking being in his life. Wrecker is overjoyed to be a father but a little insecure at the same time. Your behavior fuels this insecurity.
He withdraws unhappily, observes the child mostly only with some distance, and you can see how deeply sad he is about not being able to approach his baby properly. Your behavior, and his insecurity, mix into a very bitter cocktail for Wrecker.
Eventually, his brothers notice the pattern and intervene, insisting that you give Wrecker a chance to hold his child. When it becomes clear what this is doing to you, Hunter insists that you seek medical as well as therapeutic help. He can no longer stand by and watch Wrecker suffer.
You need to communicate, so he understands you don't feel like this on purpose, that you can't help it. He'll be happy to find a solution with you.
Tech
He notices your behavior very quickly and doesn't like it at all.
"You are overreacting. I am perfectly capable of taking care of our baby. What's your issue?"
Your explanation makes him frown worriedly as well as thoughtfully. Tech quickly does some research and concludes, "You have some form of 'postpartum maternal separation anxiety'. We need to do something about that."
He knows it's hard for you, but you both have to go through it now.
"I'm not comfortable knowing how uncomfortable you feel seeing me with the child. Actually, I had hoped that the opposite would be the case, that it would make you happy. But I'm certainly not going to give up our baby. So we have to do something. Therapy seems not only appropriate, but necessary if we're going to get this out of the way."
Tech will not back down on this. He tries to be as considerate as possible, but he has a hard time hiding his disappointment. However, he is hopeful that with professional help, you can both get relief from this situation.
Crosshair
He never wanted to become a father, and he has a hard time getting used to this situation. Pride, happiness and a good portion of fear and insecurity mix. Crosshair keeps his distance at first, observing everything carefully, thoughtfully, but also with a loving eye.
It takes quite a while, but when he finally comes out of his shell and takes the baby in his arms, you react quite strongly, partly because it is unexpected due to his previous behavior. Crosshair carefully puts the baby back down, and you see that he is holding back right now, but is incredibly angry.
He doesn't want to confront you in the presence of the child and initially retreats to let off steam. Crosshair feels patronized, discouraged and incredibly angry. You end up arguing quite heatedly, because he can't really understand what you're trying to explain to him, until you present him with some articles that can explain the whole thing more objectively.
He reluctantly reads what you've presented, wearily rubs his hand over his face with a sigh, and leans back in his chair. Finally, he understands, you can't really help it right now.
"Somehow, nothing is ever normal with us, is it?", he mutters.
You shrug your shoulders in embarrassment and lean back in your chair as well, across from him at the small dining table you're sitting at.
Crosshair finally leans forward again, arms folded on the tabletop, and looks directly at you.
"Kitten, I love you, I hope you know that. But this is a non-tolerable situation for me. We need to find a solution. I'm having a hard enough time adjusting to all this as it is. Maybe we need professional help from the outside."
Gregor
He raises his brows and looks at you in surprise as you take the child from his arms.
"Is something wrong?"
It doesn't matter what you say, he'll notice that you're avoiding him or trying to cover something up, he has a sense for that kind of thing. Gregor won't let the subject rest until you talk to him openly about it.
"Love, this is my baby too, it's our baby. You trust me, don't you?"
"That's not the point"
"Then what is it about?" he inquires gently but firmly.
Gregor listens attentively, trying to understand you, and he quickly realizes that a lot of work is needed here, and perhaps professional guidance. You are surprised when you see him smile, unperturbed, and he strokes your cheek.
"Okay, so we've discovered a problem. Let's set out to find the solution, together."
He's in good spirits, he won't give up that easily, it's not in Gregor's nature. He is sure that together, with a little willpower and cooperation, you will find a solution that is right for both of you.
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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)
@rintheemolion
@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99
@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310
@misogirl828 @tech-deck
@meshla-madalene
@chxpsi
@thebahdbitch
@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri
@darkangel4121
@ttzamara
@arctrooper69
@padawancat97
@agenteliix
@allsystemsblue
@palliateclaw
@either-madness-or-brilliance
@ortizshinkaroff
@andy-solo1
@hunterssecretrecipe
@heyitsaloy
@greaser-wolf
@extrahotpixels
@hated-by-me
@hunterxcrosshair
@malicemercy
@bebopsworld
@echos-girlfriend
@cpnt616
@dangraccoon
@jediknightjana
@pb-jellybeans
@starwarsnerd111
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authenticcadence18 · 4 months
Text
recently got an ask concerning art, instead of answering directly I wanted to talk a bit about my own journey as an artist!!!
I’ve been drawing on and off for more or less my whole life. But my artistic journey REALLY kicked off when I was 11 and caught the end of Across the Second Dimension on TV. Within like, four days of this happening, I drew Isabella over 20 times🤣. For the first time there was something I wanted to draw over and over again, I was so inspired! And Isabella is still one of my favorite characters to this day, when I want to draw she’s one of my go-tos.
From there on, I started drawing a lot more. Lots of PnF stuff of course but other things as well. Star vs the forces of evil was also a huge art inspiration for me, my style is likely a blend of those two shows.
I fell out of drawing for a bit, just bc life got busy. But!! in 2020, thanks to a certain world-stopping pandemic, I got back into phineas and ferb and started drawing again, partially as a way to cope and channel anxiety. My growth as an artist just from 2020-2021 is pretty astounding to me!!! And I grew like that primarily by drawing Phineas and Isabella over and over…and over🤣🤣. You CAN draw a ton of stuff to grow but you don’t have to to enjoy art as a hobby. Art isn’t my job, so I only need to learn as much as I need to create the pieces I want. And having that desire to draw certain characters or stories is a great inspiration to grow and expand as an artist!!
Another great catalyst for my growth as an artist was drawing thumbnails for MWCA videos in 2021-2022 (I honestly can’t remember if I drew anything for 2023, I don’t think I did tho). For the first time I didn’t have to come up with an entire idea from scratch, someone was giving me a baseline of what they wanted and I built off of that and responded to feedback. I ended up drawing things and pushing myself creatively in ways I likely never would have otherwise!!!! Like, backgrounds, I rarely draw them for myself but when it’s for a YouTube collab well I had to!! I’m really proud of all my Mwca work, heres just a few examples:
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I’m 24 now, I don’t have as much time/energy to draw these days, but when I do I’m able to use those skills I gained from drawing characters I’m passionate about and collaborating with others. My advice to any aspiring artists seeing this post would be to follow your inspiration!!!! Draw the things you love. Draw them over and over. You WILL grow as an artist. You can take inspiration from artists you admire (just don’t trace their work and post it, haha!). I know I’ve done that!! It might take time. It took me, no joke, FOUR YEARS to be able to draw phineas’s head freehand in a way I liked. I just had to keep practicing and practicing till I got where I wanted to be.
I also think working with friends is a great way to grow as an artist! You of course need to be careful with who you interact with, esp if you aren’t an adult, I would not have interacted with the MWCA crew at all if I wasn’t an adult, in fact I didn’t make my tumblr and start finding online friends till I was 19😅😅. Just be mindful if you’re younger, be safe, maybe work with friends from school if you can! I used to do that when I was a teen.
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clickerflight · 4 months
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Clove: Part 27 - Alliance
Sup! Another one! This is another thing that has popped out from nowhere, but enjoy the lore that I myself learned about my own story today.
Masterlist - Part 26
Content: Fae whumpers, mentioned non consensual touching, pretty chill this time
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Ephraim was so incredibly grateful to see the palace appear from out of the fog. He’d found the body, confirmed with the Queen that Jack did kill the fae after he’d smelled the sorcerer all over the bloody remains, and now just barely kept within the procession as they made their way to the palace. 
He wanted to check on Hyrum and ensure he was safe. He wanted to take a long shower and wash out the images of the faes’ possessive hands on his fledgling. He had not seen Benny emerge from the queen’s carriage and doubted she would be letting him out and about any time soon.
He would need to come up with a plan quickly to get Benny away from this place. 
As soon as the procession entered the palace, Ephraim quietly broke away, rushing down the halls and finding his way into the more refined sections to get back to his room, cape fluttering behind him as he ran. 
He reached his rooms and his heart sank when he saw the door partially open. He flung it the rest of the way. 
“Hyrum!” he called, looking around. The cushions on the couch were a little askew, a glass of juice or weird milk spilled across the floor and the scent of fae told Ephraim that his night was not going to be improving anytime soon. 
He snarled, turning for a moment, searching for every detail needed to find Hyrum. 
He could smell a snake. 
Ephraim ran back out into the halls, following the trails as it led to the big ballroom breakfast had taken place in, only to lose the scent as it mixed with that of other fae. 
Ephraim’s instincts were on high alert, rumbles and chuffs escaping from his chest, calling for his child to come back to him as he entered the ball room, looking around desperately for any snake-like fae. 
He pushed past a group, searching fervently for any sign of Hyrum. His heart jumped in his throat when he saw fluffy golden hair, but realized quickly it was a charmed human pet on the arm of a jaguar fae. 
Was Hyrum in a state like that? Was he being paraded around? Was he hurt!?
Ephraim was beginning to spiral when a hand came down on his shoulder gently. “Vampire, what is-”
“Where is he!?” Ephraim snarled, rounding on Kortops and shaking off the gossamer fae’s hand. 
Kortops gave him a look of surprise. “Who? Your pet?”
“My son! He was supposed to be safe! He’s a guest!”
Kortops frowned. “Well, you are certainly a guest, but it could be argued that he isn’t. Now that I think of it, the only protection that you could have afforded him would be calling him your property or your pet, which you clearly refuse to do. He was not in your rooms?”
Ephraim had to swallow down the urge to tear Kortops’s eyes from his head. “No. He wasn’t. I smelled a snake.”
“A snake hmm?” Kortops asked, clearly unbothered by Ephraim’s rage as he fluttered his wings. “Well, that could be Shallumn. He wasn’t in the procession but he is certainly bold enough. I will help you get your pup back, and if you will take my advice, Vampire, I would suggest publicly claiming the child as your property. The queen will not think to give him Guest protection as she thinks, like the rest of us, that he is your pet.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“As nightshade, Vampire. Come. We will find Shallumn.”
Kortops turned quickly, scanning the room before leaving the hall, forcing Ephraim to keep up with him. 
“I can’t believe this,” Ephraim hissed. He had only been here for about a day and a half, but it already felt like years. How in the world was he supposed to survive the next couple of days and get Hyrum and Benny out of this alive?
“You are in a precarious position,” Kortops commented in return, leading the way down halls that Ephraim had not been to yet. 
“What do you care?”
Kortops slowed, letting Ephraim come to his side. He slowed his walk till they stood in a quiet alcove. He searched for words for a moment before he said, “When humans come here, they are alone. You were not. When humans preach about going home, it doesn’t really phase us. We do not properly understand the concept of family, you see. But you came here with the pup, and you do not treat him as a pet and you fight for him. You have been nothing but protective to him, and you have been protective of Benjamin on top of that. It is strange and it intrigues me. That is why I care. This I tell you, under the rules of the Host and Guest, is true.”
Ephraim searched the fae’s face, and only saw sincerity there. Was this a trick? He went over the wording again in his mind and asked, “Is it the only reason you care?”
Kortops smiled, looking almost proud. “Of course not. I am fae. I care about rising in the court and there may be an outcome here that can get me a leg up. But you do intrigue me, and your bond with your pup intrigues me more, so that is the bigger part of the reason.”
“So you will help me and ask for nothing in return?”
“Perhaps something…. But I will explain it later. There is not time now. But it should not harm you.”
“And can you be trusted not to betray me?” Ephraim said darkly. “Can you be trusted to allow Benny to go with me?”
“I will only leave you if you do something that will put me in unreasonable danger if I side with you. And you can have Benny. It has been too long that we have had a vampire as the Queen’s husband and it is causing structural issues that she finds funny.”
Ephraim nodded. “Then I suppose this is an alliance.”
“That it is. We should hurry. I do not trust Shallumn with your pup.”
They found Shallumn coming out of his rooms, long and sinewy and dangerous, and Ephraim was gratified to see Kortops throw him against the wall and pin him there. 
“You have something that isn’t yours,” Kortops said in a sing songy voice. 
Shallumn’s eyes went wide, looking between Kortops and Ephraim, who was approaching with the grace of an angered predator. 
A lazy grin came to his face. “Oh, no. I was keeping an eye on him, sure, but Halia has him.”
“Halia?” Kortops asked, surprised. “What does she want with him?”
“Arm candy, I would assume,” Shallumn purred, but he yelped as Kortops grabbed him by the throat. 
“Liar,” Kortops hissed. 
“She took him from me, I swear!” he said quickly, realizing that he wouldn’t be able to pass off the blame and get Halia in trouble. 
Kortops dropped Shallumn. “Come, Vampire.”
Ephraim paused to kick Shallumn in the ribs, watching him curl in on himself with a whimper before following. 
Kortops slowed again to let Ephraim catch up and said, “Your pup might be safe after all. Halia is eager, but she’s gentler than most fae I know. Let us just hope she doesn’t want anything in return for you pup, but she is much easier to negotiate with than Shallumn.”
“Halia? The name is familiar.”
“She is the fae who spoke out at breakfast and got wilted by the queen.”
“Ah, yes…… Kortops, speaking of names, why do you call me Vampire?” Ephraim was curious now, more than annoyed. 
“It is respectful, no? I am not trying to take your name this way.”
Ephraim was surprised. “Thank you, then. That is courteous of you.”
“Of course. We are allied for the time being… Vampire, we have time to speak of my payment in return for my help as we walk.”
“What?”
Kortops looked vaguely uncomfortable as he said, “The fae have not found any good places to grow our changelings in a long time now. The humans have gotten very good at discovering them and as such we have no children. Fae don’t die easily, but we still do die and we have not had any successful changelings in a century now. They need human love to grow and…. The others are not as concerned as they should be, distracted as they are. I would ask that your village take in my changeling if I help you get home safe with your pup and fledgling intact. I will not take any humans in return as the need is dire. I do apologize for not being outright with it. The fae nature is…. Difficult to overcome.”
Ephraim was surprised. This was incredibly sensitive information. He understood that completely. It also explained why they had been so violent 50 years ago trying to put their changelings in the village. And the interest in Ephraim’s own relationship with his children made sense now, too. 
“Do you want to visit your changeling when they are placed?”
Kortops startled with surprise, looking at Ephraim and then to the floor. “I think…. Yes. I do. I would not be able to rest well knowing my changeling very well may die among a different species because I was trying to do it the traditional way.”
Ephraim nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything… But I will try my very best.”
“What are the odds they will allow it?”
Ephraim thought for a moment, a couple of childless couples who were desperately trying coming to mind. “Pretty good, I think. It depends on if the older members of the community will allow it, but I think I will be able to argue your case.”
Kortops nodded, relieved. “Thank you, vampire.”
“That is only if you can help us escape.”
“Of course. I ask a high price, and I will fulfill all that you need from me. I swear it on my name.”
“Good enough, then.” Still. Ephraim would need to be careful.
Part 28
Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 
@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 
@currentlyinthesprial @scoundrelwithboba @whumps-and-bumps @hellodecisionparalysis
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becoming--nobody · 5 months
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Tomorrow Is OK With Me
I've taken to writing of real struggle that results in the powerful victory of Love as Life's Source.
I don't know with certainty that is true. There is nobody in my life, hasn't been for years, that sees me in the struggle ocassionally sobbing over the absence of any person who might accept all of me. Nobody has ever remained, completely accepting all of this person I am.  Not a spouse, not my oldest friends, not people who draw near for a time, nobody. I cut some of those ties because I become less in those relationships. I don't blame others, it's my own weaknesses that create the dynamic, and my responsibilty to seperate myself to think and behave more loving and kind according to my nature. This makes me wonder if others drift away from me for similar reasons; to be better versions of their own self.
What is someone suppose to do with that? Yes, I prefer suffering my challenges alone over the constant advice to do more, be different, fit in. The fact remains it can be very intense in the middle of a tough day.
I always find my way back to a foundation of compassion for myself and others. I also begin to long for the end of this life. It's true, I am not always grateful at all that I am some living "miracle" having survived so many opportunities for this flesh to surrender.
I am weary of this life. I only partially know my spirit, but it seems to offer some beautiful relief in the thought of being free of this painful, weakened body and the strange requirements of this human life I don't seem to understand sufficiently to participate in successfully.
For today, I once again wait on the day to pass, hoping for good sleep, with confidence the morning will offer the strangest reflection of feeling and thinking this way. I will be in love again with people, with Creation, with breathing and the wonderful sensation of  the Sun's light and warmth on my skin and clothes. I will smile and feel so loved when my cat friend finds me and expresses pure joy in gaining my attention.
I prefer living in the Now, but sometimes it seems to be a dimension just out my of reach.  
Peace,
Lost Dog  (4.14.2024)
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