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#sorry I posted this on mobile and couldn't do a read more ;;;;
Note
hallo! Could I request Comfort prompt 11 for Bruce Wayne? Your writing always makes me smile.(except when it supposed to make me sad, but I like that too)
Thank you!! Posted from mobile, so sorry for any mistakes!
Warnings: None; this is pure fluff
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The office was empty and quiet, and had been for a while. You waved your hand periodically to trigger the motion sensor of the fluorescent lights when they winked out on you. It was late, and you had already been there far longer than you meant to be. You sighed, weary, leaning back against your desk and propping your chin up on your hand. Your eyes were beginning to cross; you felt like you'd read the presentation slides a hundred times, but they didn't feel finished.
You groaned as the lights winked off again, but before you could move, they suddenly flickered back to life. You frowned, and then--
"Do you have any idea what time it is?"
You screeched at the sound of Bruce's voice, whirling around in your office chair. He bit the inside of his cheek and raised a penitent hand, clearly fighting the urge to laugh. You huffed in annoyance, pressing your palm over your pounding heart as you settled back down in your chair.
"Don't...Do that."
"I'm sorry," Bruce apologized, walking closer.
"And I know exactly what time it is, thank you."
"What's got you here so late?"
"Proofing the slides for tomorrow."
"Still?"
"I don't think they're ready."
Bruce sighed softly, pulling a chair from another desk up beside yours.
"Here. I'll trade you."
Your brow furrowed in confusion before you broke into a smile at the sight of a bag of takeout.
"Oh, Brucey," You cooed, "You do like me."
He snorted, reaching out and picking up the laptop.
"I'll give these a look while you eat."
You leaned over, pecking his cheek before opening the bag--the hot aluminum dish, wrapped hunk of bread, and a smaller dish with a side salad. Your stomach growled as the scent filled your nose. You popped open the lid, stabbing your little plastic fork into the piping hot baked ziti. You pushed it around a little to let the heat out before glancing guardedly toward Bruce. He had a solid poker face: eyes darting from side to side as he read, brow drawn slightly, lips pursed...Until they moved:
"...Stop staring and eat your dinner."
"I can eat and stare."
"You can, but you aren't."
"The pasta's hot. I'm letting it cool."
Bruce cut you an unimpressed glance, but his lips twitched with a smile.
"Anything?" You asked, nodding toward the laptop.
"I've had time to read one slide. One."
"And?"
"It was perfect." He nodded toward the dish again. "Eat."
You took an obliging bite, groaning softly at the taste.
"There's water in the bag, too."
"I freaking love you," You mumbled around the mouthful, fishing into the plastic bag for the cold bottle. Bruce huffed a soft laugh through his nose, murmuring, "Love you, too, honey."
"How'd you know I'd still be here?"
"Lucky guess. You get singleminded when you're worried about work."
"I think singleminded is a bit strong."
"You're in the office at 11:30 on a Tuesday night, proofing slides that I'm positive are perfect. That is the definition of singleminded."
"I'm committed to my job, I like my job."
"I'm not knocking it, honey," Bruce soothed, smoothing his hand over your knee. "I just want to make sure you're taking care of yourself as well as you take care of your work."
"Mm, but if I take care of myself, what'll you do all day?"
Bruce laughed, raising his hand and gently tweaking your nose.
"I'd have time to learn to play polo."
"You want to play polo?"
"Alfred suggested it." He chucked you gently under the chin before beginning to turn back to your laptop.
You leaned in before he could get too far, pecking his lips gently. Bruce smiled, chasing your lips for one more kiss before refocusing. You watched the mask of concentration fall over his face again, and you couldn't help but smile.
"Eat."
"You're so cute when you concentrate."
"I am not cute."
"Bruce Wayne is a cutie patootie."
"If you call me cute one more time, I will put typos in these slides."
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autism-autobot · 4 months
Text
LMK Angst Fic Part 5
Author's note: I think there need to be more platonic and friendship cuddling in media and in the world, so here we are. (Definitely not touch starved nope not me!)
Part 4:
It was around three in the morning in the celestial realm. Nezha had become accustomed to sleeping beside Sun Wukong every night and had even begun to enjoy it despite the reason why they started doing it. He had always thought of Wukong as a good friend and companion, which he didn't have very many of thanks to his workaholic attitude. Him and Wukong had even become quite comfortable with each other.
Nezha was aroace and Wukong still considered himself spoken for since his previous marriage had ended in death and not divorce. So it was as platonic as could be. However, they were both touch-starved and emotionally neglected as children, so there's that.
Wukong and Nezha had grown used to falling asleep snuggled up next to each other, with limbs tangled in weird form around each other. But neither of them were exactly still while they slept, so Nezha wasn't immediately concerned when he couldn't feel Wukong next to him when he flopped his arm around beside him to try and find the monkey he'd grown so close to.
Until he heard the whimpering.
That can't be good.
Nezha bolted upright in the bed. He searched the dark room for his friend's ginger-colored fur. He found it at the edge of the bed.
After clambering over to Wukong's side he gently and quietly asked:
Nezha: Wukong, are you awake? What's the matter?
SWK: *sobbing* I-it's my head! It's hurting! It hurts so bad! Please-
Nezha: Shhhhh, Wukong. It's alright. I'm here, it's okay. You'll be okay.
Nezha had become accustomed to Wukong's post-circlet migraines and various other symptoms of Wukong's traumas. It seemed as though even after Wukong had learned to cope with the physical damage done to him, his body had not, and was therefore having it's own posttraumatic episodes.
Nezha had found ways to sooth him luckily.
Nezha laid Wukong in his original position on his side of their shared bed and put an ice pack on his forehead. He then lit some incense and lightly wafted the fumes in Wukong's direction so he could smell it. That was more to soothe the monkey's panic than anything.
After laying back down beside Wukong, Nezha wrapped an arm around his chest.
Nezha: Are you comfortable enough?
SWK: I think so.....*gasps*
Nezha: Wukong what-
SWK: Hot flash. Don't worry, it's already over. Gosh, that felt bad.
Nezha: It will be alright my friend. I am here.
SWK: Thank you. For everything.
Nezha: No problem, I quite enjoy your company. I just wish you weren't in pain as often as you are.
SWK: You and me both.
~~~
They slept for a few more hours before getting up. Sun Wukong tended to be very weak during and after a migraine, as was the design of the circlet he once wore. Nezha helped him to the downstairs living room and set him up on the couch.
SWK: Ow.
Nezha: Sorry.
SWK: Nah, it's fine. I should be the one saying sorry to you.
Nezha: Whatever do you mean by that?
SWK: You're always having to help me out with stuff and getting me out of trouble.
Nezha: That is only half true. Besides, I do not mind taking care of you.
SWK: But don't you think of me as weak for needing help like this?
Nezha: No, not really. If I did, however, I'd be the world's biggest hypocrite.
SWK: What? How so?
Nezha went into the adjacent closet and pulled out a wheelchair, it was the active kind too, unlike the bulky ones you'd find in the hospital.
Nezha: I haven't told you this before, I probably should've by now but, I guess I share similar insecurities.
Nezha: I am disabled. I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user, meaning I can walk about easily at times, while others I cannot.
Nezha: That is also why I have my fire wheels, sash, and staff. They are mobility devices. Albeit they are a bit atypical.
SWK: Cool!
Nezha: Really? You think they're cool?
SWK: Well, yeah! I think that type of stuff is pretty interesting. I get why you wouldn't exactly want to show it off though.
Nezha: Thank you. Perhaps if you are ever needing some help after a migraine or other health complication, you can use one of my many wheelchairs! I hardly use most of them anymore, it's nice to have backups. Just in case.
SWK: Thanks for the offer. Maybe I'll give one a spin after I feel a little bit better. I still feel like my head will explode if I sit up.
Nezha: Alright then. I'll park this one next to you so you can have an easy transition when you are ready.
SWK: Thanks again.
Nezha: You are quite welcome.
Part 6:
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pinkjoy-cons · 2 years
Text
Sorry I haven't written much of anything I've been very busy with work and I'm just so tired when I get home but here, have this little thing I wrote when I had a moment. Also it's very bad I'm sorry I'm like so tired. I'm posting this on mobile so I'm unable to put a read more option sorry.
Warnings: female reader, dirty talking/degradation, use of pet names, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, sub!reader/Dom!male characters, exaggeration of sexual activity, exhibitionism, panty stealing, creampie, unprotected sex, unedited we just die
Minors please don't interact
Kisses to @sammilimyy for reading this out of the kindness of her heart and totally not because I sent it to her so it would be the first thing she read when she woke up ❤️
It was supposed to be just a small little kiss. A quick peck on the cheek to get him through the day. But after being so busy and too tired to do anything but sleep when he got home, he couldn't help but have this kiss escalate to what it was now. He had you pinned to the wall in the hallway far from the people who would occupy the building but close enough that if you strained your ears, you could hear the distance footsteps and chatter.
"Wait!" You pleaded, "W-we can't do this--ah!" You gasped as he cupped you pussy and the heal of his palm against your clit.
"Aww, why not beautiful?" His fingers danced on your lower lips. He used his middle finger to prod your weeping hole; not getting too far given your soaked panties are in the way. "From what it looks like to me," he bit down on your neck and licked at your skin, "You seemed very thrilled at the idea of me taking you against this wall."
You moaned as he slipped your panties down and thrusted a finger in, then another.
"Oh fuck!"
"Who would've known, my sweet darling had such language." He whispered into your ear as his fingers changed between the pase of being slow and fast. The squelching of your pussy echoed through the hall along with the moans you let out from the stimulation.
"Please..." Your eyes were squeezed shut as you begged.
"Please what babygirl?"
"P-please-" He curled his fingers as you begged and let out a gasping whine. "Please put your dick in me now!"
That's all he was waiting for. As soon as the sentence left your mouth he kissed you with such passion that you didnt even notice that your panties had fallen to the ground.
Breaking the kiss, he turned you around and lifted your skirt past your ass. He spanked you once the echo and your yelp echoed.
You heard the shuffling of clothing and soon felt the proding of his dick against your lips.
"Now, be a good little slut and keep quiet okay hun?" He had the most sinister smile on his face. He knew you couldn't keep quiet for the life of you and barely registered your pleas before he pushed in; bottoming out in one beautiful thrust.
He had your hands pinned to the wall so you were helpless in concealing your moan.
"Quite kitten." He half scolded and then moved his hand to cover your mouth so he could cover what you couldn't.
His hips kept up the relentless pace and the slap of skin and squelch was the only thing in the halls. To the point that should anyone pass by they would know exactly what was going down.
But you couldn't care less, the angle of this position and the way you felt every vein of his dick drag mercilessly against your tight cunt was all you could think about.
"You feel so good. I missed you and your sweet pussy so much." He moaned in your ear and you were too dumb to respond; just a helpless whine was your answer. After a few thrusts, he swore and lifted your leg and positioned himself to go deeper. Your thigh resting on his hip and the new angle hit deeper in you that had tears coming down your eyes.
Knowing he had to hurry, he reached a hand out to run tight circles on your clit and that was just enough of what you needed to softly (to the best of your ability) cry out his name and gush all over his cock. The squeezing of your walls was heavenly that after a few deep thrusts, he planted his dick deep inside your cunt, seed spilling inside of you. His grip on you tightened and he pressed your hips even closer to ensure that his cum was burried inside of you.
You both took a moment to catch your breaths and he pulls out slowly, the movement making you hiss from over stimulation. He tucks himself back into his pants and gently pats your hair back into place and helps you to fix your skirt.
He kisses you deeply and you smile at the passion this man still has. In a moment of clarity, you feel his cum slowly creep out of you and down your thigh. He sees you tense your thighs and laughs at your expression. You lift your skirt, he kneels peaks under and uses his finger to push his cum back into your hole. You gasp and furrow your brows, grip tightening on your dress.
Once he's up, you scan the ground, when you can't find what you're looking for you hear your lover clear his throat. In his fingers are your panties. You reach for them but he pulls back, too quick and too tall for you to reach.
"Careful love," he leans in to whisper in you ear, "Wouldn't want to leak on your way out." You can utter a rebuttal when someone is calling his name. He slips your panties into his pocket and you turn to walk out. With great difficulty you walk out but you look over your shoulder and blush furiously. Peaking barely out of his pocket is a small bit of lace from your panties.
Kaeya, Alhaitham, Ayato, Childe
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ladybracknellssherry · 9 months
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Some more Meta type thoughts/questions that are far from analyses/real theories. Still learning how to search for specifics with metas and such so I guess this is just me once again throwing out a line.
Pt I. If Gabriel wasn't present when God spoke to Job...why did God's words/voice come out of Jimbriel's mouth in his mini memory trance? Aziraphale and Crowley were right there, watching Job, but they couldn't hear what God was saying. Gabriel couldn't have seen that happening, otherwise he would have seen Aziraphale and Crowley just hanging out like two old buds watching Job and God.
This doesn't feel like a memory anymore. Not just a memory. Because this wasn't just Gabriel's voice. This was Gabriel's voice and God's voice.
And of course there is Jimbriel's second memory trance in E3 that only Crowley heard, in which there is another voice in the "memory" as well - but this does not sound like God's voice/at least not Frances McDormand. I listened to it and listened to it and if it sounds like any of the Heaven people at all, it sounds most like Muriel. But it also sounds more like an American accent. So that's a big ? from me for right now.
The Earth observation files we've seen so far are apparently just images, not audio. The only full video/audio files from Heaven seem to be just things that happened in Heaven.
Pt. II. This one is really stressing me out. We keep analyzing every aspect of time in S2 because it is so prominent and seems so weird. The very prominently displayed and loudly ticking clock in the bookshop. All of the mobile phones and watches. All of the minisode/flashbacks which themselves are divergences from a linear storytelling timeline.
Twice in S2E3 Crowley says "Too late."
So here's where I got upset. Canonically we know that Crowley's Book/S1 watch shows the time "in a capital city in Another Place, where it was always one time, and that was too late."
Now of course there is the time stop theory because of the missing minutes in the final 15. So if the clock kept ticking...then time was stopped everywhere except for the bookshop? EVERYWHERE? 🧐
Crowley's only S2 time manipulation type deal we clearly saw was in S2E3 with Mr. Dalrymple - but that wasn't a time stop so much as a Mr. Dalrymple stop.
It's probably all over the place here but I can't find it. When I went on this particular side-quest I found This post from thecatHimselfknows on reddit.
Though Crowley no longer has his watch, someone does.
And it's Shax.
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sorry for the shit quality.
So I don't think at all that Crowley's watch specifically has anything to do with his time-stopping ability. I mean, maybe somehow it was imbued or miracled or something. But I don't think so.
Just as far as symbolism, it is another strange and curious GO2 time mystery.
I've also read this in fics but don't remember reading anything about it in the book and it definitely wasn't in the show. The theory is that time works differently in Heaven and Hell. Just another Q I guess I'm throwing out.
So I'm not going to suggest the possibility that in S2 there was some weird time fuckery that put them in Another Place. But the "it's always too late" watch/Another Place nod in a season full of time madness adds to the time suspiciousness for sure.
(I'm working on my tags for all of my weird Q's and random thoughts and meta type deals for my organization for myself so just...yeah)
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barb-l · 2 years
Note
Yeees totally! With Enid probably picking stores strategically beforehand because she knows Wednesday can only take so much before her social batteries run out for the day. She's also totally buying her something other than black and white.. maybe in a beautiful dark blue colour and for whatever, whatever reason Wednesday will be compelled to wear it (when they are alone.) Oh no.. I have way too much thoughts and feelings about them.
Ohh I will be ecstatic about anything you decide to write for them. I loved your first fic tons, it's so very well-written! 😊
Oh dark blue could work. Pretty sure that's what she was wearing in Addams Family Values.
Aww thanks! I'm actually working on a summer break fic rn, but i've been hesitant to keep going cuz ive been considering just waiting to watch the show first cuz i wanna know what Enid's family/pack is like by the end of the show. I'll probably be changing a ton of stuff, or just scrap the whole thing altogether, after i've watched the show, so let me just post what i have so far here:
(sorry im on my mobile and can't put it under read more)
💀💀💀💀💀💀
Enid didn't really expect anything when she gave Wednesday her number. For one, Wednesday didn't have a phone and has sworn that she will never have one.
But just in case...
As, uh, rocky as their start was as roommates, Wednesday has grown on Enid. Like a mold. Maybe due to Stockholm Syndrome. Jury's still up as to how Wednesday feels about her. But after going up against a homicidal monster and rogue Nevermore student together, she likes to think that she has managed to go past being merely a thorn on Wednesday's side and dug her way to the other girl's shriveled, pea-sized heart.
So just before they leave Nevermore for the long-awaited summer break, she gave Wednesday her phone number to let her know that she can contact her if she ever gets sick of tormenting her brother and wants to bother Enid instead.
Wednesday raised a brow when she's handed the piece of paper with Enid's digits and sceptically looked at her. "Why?"
Enid didn't expect Wednesday to ask at the time. Truthfully she expected her to wordlessly throw it away and was prepared for another bout of back and forth squabble like they've always done. Maybe even tease her over how she's too much of an old lady on the inside to even figure out how to use a phone anyway. It was fun. What's not fun is admitting that she will miss her. She didn't prepare to be asked why.
"I don't know," is what Enid ended up saying. "Just..." She shrugged, turned away from Wednesday's calculating gaze to finish zipping up her bag. "I don't know."
"Hm."
Enid didn't like that reaction. Like Wednesday just caught her doing something embarrassing. So she took her bag, gave Wednesday a saccharinely fake smile, and said, "See ya, weirdo!" before running away with her tail tucked between her legs.
----
Enid spends the first two weeks of summer break agonizing over how humiliating that was. Who gives their number to a girl who doesn't even have a phone? Desperate idiots, that's who.
If Wednesday knew how much Enid was suffering just thinking about her, she'd be smiling in satisfaction.
...and now Enid has started thinking about Wednesday's smile, wicked as it may be, and has buried her face in her pillow. This time she's suffering for different, more embarrassing reasons.
She didn't expect anything, honest to god, so when she receives a notification one day for a text from an unknown number, she couldn't believe her eyes.
Greetings, Enid Sinclair, it reads.
Against my better judgement, I have gone and acquired a phone. I still maintain the belief that they are unnecessary and annoying, but you were, regrettably, right. Lighting Pugsley up in the good ol' electric chair has not been the same since Nevermore.
Perhaps it's due to everything else that we have gone through the whole semester. Monsters and what-not can't compare.
Though money has never been an issue to an Addams, I expect that you will make my purchase worthwhile by granting me amusement. Go ahead, regale me of your woes spending school break locked in a whole different kind of prison with your family. I don't expect it to be any worse of a time than I have had, but I haven't lost hope.
Forever in darkness,
Wednesday Addams
Enid rolls her eyes when she finishes reading the absurdly long text, but there's a smile she can't contain when she fondly mutters, "So edgy."
She doesn't reply right away. Mostly because she doesn't know what to say, and also because she spent a good fifteen minutes just re-reading the message, giggling over the mental image of Wednesday going to the mall and buying a phone, all for her.
... Well, maybe not, but Enid doesn't have enough self-control in her to deny a hungry ego.
She knows that the text has been shown as read on Wednesday's end by know, but she pays it no mind. With all the torture having Wednesday on her mind has brought her, she deserves to do it back.
After spending much too long of her time erasing and retyping, she finally replies.
u dont have to sign n write texts like letters yunno. U can just talk like normal
Enid once again laughs when she sees that her text was immediately read. Wednesday spends two minutes conjuring up a reply, and Enid spends the whole time watching the dots on the the bubble move as she lies in bed.
Eventually, Wednesday sends a reply.
Your spelling is atrocious.
Enid wonders if Wednesday would get offended if she tells her how often she has made her laugh.
That's more like it, Enid texts in return.
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luckyshotwrites · 9 months
Text
Ch. 95 // Daze // Day Off
Contents (Warnings): The anxiety and fear (Angst, slight blood mention, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03
Wordcount: 2,300+
Song I correlate to this Chapter: None to report
Sorry the chapter is coming out so late! And I'll be posting the next tomorrow, since I couldn't finish it tonight and both parts together would have been way too long!
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Drake
The difference was more than subtle. When someone took Drake's blood or even disgustingly ate him, he felt their body tug gently, stringing his energy out like yarn. Noticeable, terrifying, yet delicate. 
When dealing with a magus like Andras, it was as if Drake had a coating of energy desperately clinging to every crevice inside his body, only for Andras to painfully pull it out, just like that contraction of tentacles that bore their way around Drake's mouth to silence him. 
Drake couldn't breathe nor twist away; Andras squeezed at Drake's temples. It threatened to crush them if he attempted to leave his grip. 
The desperation worsened, screaming from within the confines of his flesh. Even more robust than the anger he had boiling over. 
Drake was weakened; without magic, mobility, and power—Andras could kill him here and now.
His body's desire to feed grew, and his fangs extended out from his gums in response. Andras was taking too much of his energy. His mouth refused to close; he couldn't hold his need nor his body's response for survival. 
The less energy he had, the less coherent his thoughts became—they were drowned out by the increasing thumps of everyone's heartbeats. Even making a noise felt impossible as if his lungs had collapsed from the energy Andras had drained.
"Answer me, and I'll let you go."
The curly-haired male's voice was so faint, a whisper compared to the constant drumming of everyone in the room. 
What. Say what. Drake couldn't remember what he asked. What did Andras even say? All Drake knew was that it made him mad.
He heard Andras's voice again, and Drake tried to charge forward, sharpened fangs, only to feel the pressure on his skull increase, accompanied by an internal cracking.
"There's an intruder. Why did you have Terrance stop me!"
Another heartbeat Drake had heard before, along with her sound. 
"I wanted to make sure you didn't kill him. Bring short fuse back to me, alive."
In his clouded judgment, Drake's ears touched at the nickname. Amid his suffering and panic, he had forgotten the question, and now it was clear.
Andras didn't ask whether he'd kill Alexander or not for no reason; the curly-haired bastard rarely ever did. He asked because...Chase is here.
...
Lynette
I only imagined what happened to Osiris as Andras held Drake's head.
It caused anxiety to flare my nerves into crazed, dread-filled sparks. And those ignitions drove the adrenaline to move my body to Drake.
Though Zetsu's hands clutched either side of my upper arms. They restrained and saved me.
His squeeze begged me not to launch myself into danger.
He was right. I couldn't do anything. I doubted Andras would let me live if I stepped out of line and the giant of a man Terrance begged me to.
My sight flowed back from around the office to Drake again. Please don't kill him. I begged in my head.
I couldn't hear their exchange. So the office was quiet, besides the soft noise from beyond the open double doors.
The sudden loud tone of Andras made both Zetsu and I jump. "Victoria just passed by. Can you grab her, Terrance?"
Soundless as always, Terrance turned back to the double doors, left, and then a minute later returned holding Victoria's arm.
"There's an intruder at the barrier. Why did you have Terrance stop me!" The woman with yellow eyes, like Lev, protested and hissed.
Andras chuckled and watched her attempt to get Terrance to loosen his grip on her forearm. The male with a ponytail grinned at her tries.
Andras said, "I wanted to ensure you didn't kill Short Fuse. I'd like him alive."
Victoria halted. Her nose wrinkled with her snooty tone, "alive, really?"
"Don't be like that," the curly-haired males teased her childish disdain.
"You know it's a lot harder to capture people alive."
Who are they talking about?
"That's true," Andras said, "however, I don't care what you do. We can put him back together later as long as he's still breathing."
Victoria lowered her head, exhaled, and sighed, "fine."
Terrance let Victoria go, and she jogged out the doors.
"I'll be joining you down there soon!" Andras shouted. Soon, his head tilted back, and his eyes locked onto mine. "Lynette."
I stood up straight.
"Can you be a doll and come here," he asked in a way that came off more as a demand.
Zetsu let me go, but I refused to step closer. "Wi-will you stop hurting him if I do?"
Andras studied me, his expression blank at first, then gained life with his warped smile, "Aw, don't worry, Lynette. I'd sooner kill you than him." He pursed his lips together and mocked Drake by shaking his head roughly, "I'd never get rid of someone so valuable that easily."
He returned his attention to me, "Does that make you feel better?"
No. I thought.
I didn't answer and moved closer. I didn't have anywhere to go if I did run. The exit out of Andras's office was guarded by Terrance, and the only other way to go was the elevator, which only led to the basement.
A mocking smirk spread across Andras' face as he purred, "Good girl." Then swiftly let go of Drake's head, pushed him back, and grabbed me.
He put me between himself and Drake, who recoiled.
His free hand came up and laced itself between my already tangled curls. His fingers tightened like steel cables, forcing my head back so I couldn't see what was coming.
My eyes were forced to look at him or the ceiling.
His other hand hooked into my collar and tugged. It burned the right side of my neck and tore on the left, exposing the flesh further for Drake.
When I moved my hands, his poisonous vocals shut it down. "He'll die without energy."
The second or two more, I didn't move; I felt Drake's head bury into my neck. The sharp pain followed, enough to force a wheeze from my cords.
My eyes flickered off the dark wood and well-lit ceiling and to Andras. I could barely see him past Drake, though that wicked grin was hard to ignore even as everything grew dim.
"You play your part well, Lynette."
...
Drake
His sense of reality returned in the midst of, yet again, drinking Lynette's blood. He hadn't even opened his eyes to confirm it.
His stomach stirred, a mix of disgust in himself and the sweet satisfaction that her ichor supplied.
He pressed his body into hers—his arms were still bound. 
Drake was drawn to keep himself between all the others and her. He watched them as he continued to drink more than he needed—Drake impulsively gulped down what he wanted.
"She's lucky your venom regenerates her blood cells, isn't she? Other than that, she'd be an empty husk by now." Andras's tone thrummed from above. He had dropped Lynette after she passed out.
Drake released his fangs, continuously huffing from the current buzz of overindulgence. "You-" Drake stumbled up only to fall back over; his vision and body were still dazed. He drank too much. It was a feeling he hadn't had since the festival.
Andras pointed to the two nearest to the tall string bean. "Zetsu, take Drake and Lynette downstairs for me," Andras said. "And don't worry about unbinding Drake's arms. If all goes well, he has another client soon." 
Drake fumbled to his feet, "I-"
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you see Short Fuse real soon. Maybe in remanence of our old happy time together." Andras waved him off.
Drake wobbled to Andras, and then the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His vision swiftly turned back and locked onto Zetsu as he picked up Lynette from the ground. 
Don't touch her. He pursued Zetsu into the elevator and wished he could yank her from him. 
He shouldn't be holding her. She's... The numbing realization buzzed in his head when the doors closed behind him, and his reflection was seen. 
He didn't trust anyone here. Anyone working for Andras wasn't good, but his reaction wasn't all for her own protection. Drake had a compulsion to keep her near him, watch over every inch of her, and secure her in his own grasp. 
I've only had her blood twice in a row. Drake knew that. Addiction didn't happen that early, yet these circumstances were not normal. He had been nearly entirely drained on both occasions, so his body had been desperate. Now it was, too. It wanted to ensure his source of energy remained intact and his.
Shame clashed with his need for control.
It didn't stop until she awoke when they walked down the long barred hall.
She jumped, being held closely in Zetsu's arm. A soft and high-pitched yelp popped from her mouth. Frightened, Zetsu almost dropped her.
"Don't," Drake ordered; he couldn't let Lynette be hurt.
Zetsu listened. He held Lynette and slowly put her onto the ground when she requested it. He's so skittish. 
Drake felt the eyes watching them from beyond the bars. He moved near Lynette to keep her close to himself. 
They had stopped, allowing Drake to feel the eyes of those behind him peering through their bars. 
"Drake?"
He snapped back to her and noticed how close he had gotten. His eyes tipped to her flesh, and his fangs wanted to meet her for more. It tried to preserve himself in case he was drained once more. Andras did it on purpose. Drake knew the bastard pushed for him to be addicted to Lynette.
He fought to step away from her against the alluring lull of her heart, "can you walk?"
"I can...do you feel better?"
He shook his head, ensuring his bangs fell securely over his eyes. They were curtains he draped close to hide away. "Don't ask if I feel better. None of this makes me feel good." He didn't know why he was so open, especially in the middle of this foul-smelling hall. 
He pressed himself into her to direct her ahead. Zetsu clearly didn't know what to do when he moved with her further down.
"Hey!"
He has no confidence. Drake brewed a distraction in his head, maybe even a way to take him down and get out of this place. 
It only reminded him of what was happening above. He snapped his teeth together. 
Behind them, Zetsu's hand grabbed Drake's shoulder, and Drake yelled instead. 
"FUCK!" 
It made Lynette spring and turn to him quickly, and Zetsu yanked his hand back. The halls were quiet, as if anyone inside the cells expected Drake to put on a show. 
Drake didn't care. He was pissed. "Alexander's so stupid; why the hell is he even coming alone. HE DOESN'T THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS." 
"Xander's here?"
Drake roared out in frustration, "He is HERE. They are sending Victoria after him, AND even if he's able to avoid her or maybe beat her, there are so many others here, too." Drake's concern swelled and came out in angry fits of curses.
"Wouldn't he tell people what happened? Or where he was going?"
"Knowing Alexander, No. He's so..." Drake looked at the nice brick portion of the wall that looked perfect for his head to bang into. "He always does this. He doesn't think, he acts-" Remorse pet his heart, while regret plowed up from his lungs and to his throat. It burned like acid reflux. "He doesn't give up even though I-I tried to kill him."
...
(4 years and a few months ago)
Drake
"He's so," Drake yelled after he rubbed his forearm. The bite or two from clients always had a way of lingering without the wound being there. 
Andras, sitting back on one of the couches in the main room, continued to count his money and spoke between the numbers, "What's the matter, Drake?"
Drake paced, his eyes occasionally wandering to the stage on his right and the pole. A strip club as a cover for this business is still weird. His mind didn't linger on it. He answered Andras. "Alexander."
Andras's lips perked with a smile, "your secret lover, what about him?"
He retched at the tease. It was rare for him to get sick by simple thoughts, but that made him feel like throwing up. Drake spat in disgust. "I hate that prodigy."
The curly-haired male placed the money down. "Hmm, a prodigy, huh? You've never mentioned that."
That catches your attention. Is it because he's a kindred spirit? Drake rolled his eyes, going on, "He's a hybrid, Magus and Wendigo."
"Interesting, I didn't think such a combination was possible." Drake noticed an unusual excitement in Andras's eyes. "Though price-wise, no one wants to buy a hybrid."
"He tastes disgusting," Drake remarked. 
Andras sat back on the couch and snickered at Drake's response, "It's okay, I have no intention of replacing you." He tilted his head back and forth, thinking, "But...maybe you can introduce me to him."
Drake's eyes squinted so hard he could barely see through them, "Why would I want to do that?"
Andras put both of his arms over the top of the long couch. "I wanna watch you take him down."
"I can't. He's a prodigy."
Andras pushed up and leaned over the table toward Drake, "It doesn't matter how powerful you think they are; if you know their weaknesses, then you can take them down."
Andras slid the money he was previously counting to Drake, "Don't worry though, I won't make you introduce us." Andras whispered, "I'll find another time to meet him later."
Upon taking the money, Drake pointed the wad of cash back at Andras, "You aren't."
"Okay, okay," He held his palms up, "if you'd rather live in his shadow forever, that's your life."
"I'm not in his shadow."
Andras's contained his laugh, "mhm." He parted his lips after a minute of muffled laughter, "From the sounds of it, those around you praising him, they won't recognize you unless you prove it to them," He got up and leaned close enough to Drake to tap his nose. Drake pulled back, offended. "What better way to show them than by beating someone outclassing you?"
He didn't move in close enough for Andras to tap his nose a second time. He stayed back and swayed the idea in his head. "It can't happen."
"It can.~"
"You're optimistic."
Andras denied the claim and walked to the same side as Drake, "no, I simply know everyone has their own vulnerability, sometimes with power, their own morals, convictions, it might take time, but you can always find out what makes someone tick." He laughed.
The way Andras talked sometimes reminded Drake that he had to traverse carefully with him. "I'm still not bringing you to him."
"You won't have to." 
...
Hey, you, thank you so much for reading. I'm glad I put out a story that people can enjoy! I hope you continue to enjoy it as WE have a LOT more to go! YOU BETTER KEEP PROSPERING! (Nonnegotiable, as always~).
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Catch up, see some maps/art, or check the latest release dates down below  ↓ ↓ ↓ 
What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)
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decrepitdeer · 25 days
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Hazbin OC Backstories
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I've been putting my character backstories on Unvale for a while now, but I figured that I might as well put them on here for those who don't feel like venturing outside of Tumblr for stuff like this, I got you!
This won't be the most earth-shattering reading experience. These are just OC backstories taken directly from my notes app, so it's just a lot of "this happened, and then this," but I hope you can still enjoy this <3
This is also written on mobile, so sorry if it looks weird for some
My Hazbin OCs Introduction post
PLEASE DONT READ THIS IF YOU AREN'T 16 +
Content and Trigger Warings: death, murder, brief mention of attempted SA (Daisy Belle), vauge mention of child neglect, prostitution/s*xual exploitation (Soleil)
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Daisy Belle:
Daisy Belle, then just Daisy, was born into a loving family living in a small town in England. Daisy was quite the nerd, enjoying schoolwork and scifi books whenever she could her hands on them. Through that, she developed a unique and relatively rare interest in tech, at least in comparison to other little girls in the 1950s. Daisy was also very handy and helpful, being a jack of many trades. She would use her skills to help her family and other people in her community. By her teens, she could fix most mechanics and tech of the time.
Daisy applied to a college that had technology courses and luckily got in.
She moved to London for her studies, but it wasn't all it cracked up to be, more specifically there was a lot more unsavory characters compared to her small town. Lot of them were men who didn't know how to keep their hands to themselves. Daisy pushed it aside, concentrating on the better parts. She excelled in school and gained a bunch of new friends. It all came to an end on a faithful spring night. Daisy came home and after that started to hear some weird noises. After going to investigate she found that two men had broken into her house. They held her at gunpoint, one of them trying to force her to "do things" while the other went to loot her home for valuables. Daisy refused for this to be the end, and after a while of playing along, she attacked him, wrestled the gun away and ended up shooting him dead. All of the noise had naturally attracted the attention of the other attacker, and before Daisy could react, she was shot point blank through her eye.
As if the universe itself was mocking her fate, a certain song started to play on her radio. "Daisy Bell" by Harry Darce, the same song her parents would sing to her as a lullaby.
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Soleil:
Soleil was born to a single mother who couldn't afford to take care of her, so she left Soleil at an orphanage. The orphanages at the time were far from perfect, so Soleil didn't exactly get the start in life that her mother had hoped. During nighttime, she would sometimes light a candle to bring her comfort. Soleil had always liked fire. It was the most beautiful thing in the world to her.
After Soleil grew out the orphanage, she was able to secure a job at the local opera house. She had always loved to dance and sing, much to the annoyance of the people working at the orphanage.
Soleil was given lessons, and she progressed fast, her small figure being an advantage in ballet. Soleil would have had a promising career in front of her.. If she wouldn't have had the misfortune of being a woman in a French 1800s Opera house. The female dancers at the time had to do.. Certain "activities" with the wealthy men that frequented the opera just so that they could get by. Soleil was no expection.
This was naturally something she didn't want. Day in and day out, she had to give it her all and smile on stage, only be puppeted around by a bunch of old men. There's only so much one can take, and after a couple of months, she lost all sense of self. A broken doll.
One the evenings after a performance, she sat in the dressing room by herself when she heard a familiar and comforting voice. The fire on the candle was whispering to her again, like it had all those years ago. This time around, it wasn't just promising comfort and warmth, but the means to take back what she was owed. It guided her through the opera house, methodically setting fires in a way that when the others would realize what was occurring.. It would already be too late. Sooner than later, the Opera house was ablaze in the cold winter night. There were very few survivors. One of them was a backstage worker who had seen something haunting before nearly succumbing to the smoke. A young ballerina, twirling amongst the flames on stage. She was wearing a content and happy expression on her face.
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dualisume · 10 months
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༘ ೀ⋆。 #Dualisume.   ⸻  a highly selective , && mutuals only rp blog for , Regina of all Waters — Furina De Fontaine !! of Genshin Impact , heavily headcanon && portrayal is inspired by the Biblical Bible && Marie Antionette . — Triggering && Dark themes are present in this blog / Not Spoiler Free ! Read Rules Before Interacting Minors or anyone below 20 don't interact . Personals Don't Reblog
⸻  ༘ ೀ⋆。 Loved && Cherished by Eri ༘ ೀ⋆。 ⸻  ( Carrd | Headcanon | Drafts : 5 | Asks : 17 )
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༘ ೀ⋆。 The world is just a stage It's better to laugh than to cry because laughter is of human nature Laugh at it all, don't worry — Let's enjoy today !!
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Simplified rules for mobile below the cut!
༘ ೀ⋆。Mun . Hi , hi!! You can call me Eri ! I've been rping for so long that I couldn't remember when i started but i do know i used to rp in GAIA online , I've been rping in Genshin fandom since version 1.0 so haha i've been around so long orz , also english is not my first language in fact it's the third one i learned , so I'm sorry if my English sometimes sucks or not deep.. what else? I love cats, frogs & dogs -- also my pronouns are whatever you feel like && I'm also 26 years of age
༘ ೀ⋆。 Selectivity . I'm very selective due to the reason that i get easily overwhelmed when there's a lot of things going on in my dashboard , I wanted it to be clean && not filled with untrimmed posts, too much ooc post , etc -- ( sorry! ) also i only follow the blogs I'm certain I'm going to write with && i'd like to keep things like that. Regarding to OCs , i will follow you -- once i read all your about > . < , I love your OCs i really want to write with you but due to my hectic schedule && ADHD , i always forgot to read some , so it is my fault why i got no time -- I'm really sorry. I wont follow you if you're below 20 + && ships incest , pedophile ships.
༘ ೀ⋆。 Activity . I work as a fulltime artist/designer so i have always free access to Tumblr ( except going home / to work ) but this doesn't mean my whole life revolves in tumblr. I also have hobbies && life outside tumblr -- so even if I'm always online here doesn't mean I'll reply to you immediately . Please understand that thank you!!
༘ ೀ⋆。 Shipping. Furina is currently a mess of a character in her way to figure who she really is a person , so shipping --- is a bit hard with furina, since she will question a lot of things but , but , but! I adore shipping & would love to slowly build a relationship with anyone -- as long as the character is of age , i also do shipping only when there's a lot of amount of interaction between our muses , so it feels more natural
༘ ೀ⋆。 Triggers. Hi please tag if you're ganna post Dolls or Spiders, i don't like them --- they scare me thanks.
༘ ೀ⋆。 Headcanon & Graphics Anything you see in here is made by me, unless i specified that it isn't . My headcanons, graphics & arts are something i worked really hard on, so please don't steal them . I appreciate it!
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powdermelonkeg · 2 years
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Hello,
I'm sorry for the question but I'd like to know for your 50/50 poll if that is actually something Tumblr users have achieved or if you can modify polls to always show 50/50
Cause damn i voted randomly and I couldn't see the options at all, can you revote on a poll?
Gonna answer these in reverse order:
Nope, you can't revote on a poll. Once it's cast, it's cast, no takebacks.
I can't modify the polls whatsoever after they're posted. Like, at all. Can't even add tags to them, change the title, etc; that's put in place on purpose so that people can't change what the poll's supposed to be voting for mid-vote. (It's actually a little frustrating because I can only use polls if they're submitted to me, and if I accidentally set them for 24 hours instead of a week, I have to delete the poll and use up a new one) On the 50/50—that happened completely by chance! I've had two polls that very much toe the 50/50 line, this blank one and this snail one.
In the case of the snails, people were motivated to balance them. The title gave a clear goal: "They’re trying to tie so they can share the 1st place medal." Towards the beginning, it was unbalanced pretty wildly, then as more and more people blindly voted for whichever they thought was in the losing spot, it evened out to 50/50, and each "wrong" vote that skewed it wouldn't be enough to shift it a full percentage.
Think of it this way. If I hold out my hands, and one hand has two grains of rice, and the other has five, it's pretty easy to see that the hand that has 5 grains has more rice. If you have, instead, two BAGS of rice, whether or not one or the other has 3 extra grains doesn't really matter anymore, because the weight and space they take up gets lost among the rest.
The snail vote actually skews ever-so-slightly towards the bottom snail. You can see this on mobile, because mobile shows fractions of a percent in the actual bar measure—the bottom snail is a few pixels ahead. But it's just that: fractions of a percent. Tumblr likes whole numbers, so it rounded 50.003% (not the actual number, just a guess) down to 50%, and 49.997% up to 50%, making them appear even.
The reason I bring up the motivation part is because, whenever the snail poll DID skew a full percent, everyone started to tag it to let people ahead know about it. "Bottom snail is at 51%! Everyone vote top snail!" And I assume their followers listened to that advice. If you read through the notes of that post, you can see that in action.
The blank post is doing this COMPLETELY organically. Since neither option actually contains anything, there's a negligible amount of bias towards one particular answer. YOU might think of pressing the bottom answer first because you felt like it, but the NEXT person might just click the first answer they see, and so on. There's no reason why one blank option should be favored over the other, so it isn't.
As of typing this, the blank poll is at nearly 18k votes; I'm sure it sways one way or another by fractions of a percent, just like the snail poll. But because the bias towards either answer is basically nonexistent, the vast majority of people split into 50/50 again.
It's literally a coin flip. A coin has two faces with equal chances of landing, no matter which one you feel obligated to call.
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boymage666 · 1 year
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I survived the
WIZARD RACE
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Anyways I'm gonna talk about it now. no readmore because mobile tumblr is dumblr, sorry.
So, only slightly relevant to anything, but I did the entirety of the game during the school day. Started around 11:30, but I didn't find my first charm until about 12:45 (I had to go to an assembly then eat lunch)
Finding the charms was a pretty fun challenge, the only one I didn't get on my own was the heart (thanks for that one @wizardgoblin )
had to take another break after submitting the charms because I had to get back to school, by that time 3 people were already done. No big deal to me, all I wanted was top 13. So I do my work for that class and open Tumblr again to start phase 2.
This is a good point to say I love codes and cyphers, so I was very excited at the idea of the next part, only to metaphorically fall on my ass because I forgot that the actual question was on the main post about the game. Once I found that again I copied it onto a sheet of paper so I could write out the sounds as I figured them out. And so the teacher of my next class wouldn't flay and crucify and sous ve me for using my phone, but more so i could write my thoughts.
This bastard. (affectionate)
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That symbol right there caused me the most trouble of everything, I thought for a moment I was going mad because I couldn't find anything like it in the sample text. But you know what? I think it's better that way. Made me think harder. I was kinda skipping around on words while translating, going for the easy words first then the words that I felt would be important. Decided I would hold off on this word and skipped back to the line above it to solve the big word up there. Catchphrase. And the last word was "Weekly". I realized then that this had to be "Wizard".
I'm glad that the "z" sound wasn't in the passage, it made me think harder about the puzzle, and that was fun in hindsight.
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(please ignore the blatantly mistranslated word on the second row.)
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Unfortunately I don't have timestamps for exactly when i entered the maze, but it was probably around 3:40, as I remember realizing school was about to be over, which meant I'd have to drive home before finishing if I didn't get through fast.
MAZE SPOILERS AHEAD. DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO HAVE IT RUINED FOR YOU. DO READ IF YOU'RE STUCK AND WANT TO PLACE. IM NOT YOU MOM.
On the first page of the maze there were three options to choose where to go. I translated the first option, If I recall correctly it was scoundrel. Did not want to deal with that, the second option I couldn't translate immediately, so I skipped to the third option. Merchant. Sounds safe enough, I should go there.
So I did.
Reading the options, and knowing I was at a merchant, I decided to barter, and got an item. Cool. Sick even. So I move on.
[something] [STRENGTH] [STEALTH]
Decided to go stealth, and remembering how the merchant went, I choose the stealth option. Made it out with a cool gem. Encountered the dragon. Decided I didn't want to give up the candle and tried using the gem. Back to the start. Same path with the merchant, chose the option i didn't translate for the monster, and decided to try and charm it. Sandwich aquired. Not a good offering, back to the start. Merchant and gem? Close but no. Finally, I decided to try and fight the monster. It worked, and the item visually matched what I got from the merchant much more that the other items, sure enough, it was a good enough offering, and I got to move on.
Last part of the maze. 14 options, one was correct, spotted it immediately. Escaped at 3:57 pm ctz, day one of the race.
Honestly, I thought the game was fun! The maze was slightly easier than the cypher, for better or for worse, but that also could have been on me by refusing to try the other routes at the start of the maze. I can't wait to see what future events have waiting for us! Thanks for hosting this @wizardweekly
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 1 year
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Hi, may I get a match-up for the hobbit please? I'm genderfluid they/them) and would like to shipped with a masc character please.
I'm an INFP-A, 9w1. My horoscope is gemini sun, leo moon, and libra rising. All of those are extremely accurate lol. I'm very whimsical and distant, but once you get to know me I'm even MORE whimsical and very emotionally intense lol. I'm a bit of a manic pixie dream girl lol. My intensity usually intimidates people, but otherwise I'm very open and friendly once you get to know me. I'm observant and introspective, which ironically makes it difficult for me to make friends and makes me a bit sensitive. I'm extremely compassionate, empathetic, patient, and understanding. It's one of my worst traits as well, since i struggle with forming boundaries and being angry at people who mightve wronged me. I'm also incredibly indecisive. I'm not a pushover though, and have no problem gently letting ppl know when I disagree with them or something.
The animals that my friends/family say remind them of me are bears and elephants. My favorite color is yellow, and my favorite flowers are honeysuckle and jasmine. My favorite season is a tie between summer and winter, even though I HATE the cold.
With my friends I'm very chaotic and they describe me as "a silly gnome/goblin". When with them i initiate most hangouts and have always been a sort of ring leader.
My giving love language is quality time and words of affirmation. Receiving they are physical touch and quality time.
I come from an abusive household and had to look out for my younger siblings (2 younger sisters and 3 cousins who are basically brothers).I've been through a lot and that's given me a unique perspective on the world and what it means to be alive.
For hobbies I really enjoy reading, crafting, writing poetry and am very good at it, and just spending time outside. I love listening to music and listen to absolutely everything and enjoy it lol. I'm very go-with-the-flow and am down for practically anything and everything at least once. I don't like mean-spirited things/people, the cold, and being man-handled lol.
My style is very hippie/70s with goth influence. I have very long dark straight mahogany hair and blue eyes, and a very small/petite frame (hence not liking being manhandled lol). I'm very pretty in a free-spirited way, and I'm quite graceful.
My ideal type is someone who can get me out of my shell a bit while still appreciating my soft/whimsical side. Someone who can have my back and we can be our inner children together, if that makes sense. I'd do well with someone who could understand me, and help me be the best version of myself. I believe love and empathy are the only things worthwhile in life, in all the various forms they take, despite what I've been through. It terrifies me though, so id need someone to convince me to take that leap with them. Its easy to scare me off as well so someone who could understand how to approach me without overwhelming me would be best. In relationships I'm very much drawn to a twin flame sort of dynamic lol.
((I'm sorry if I did this wrong, I couldn't find any rules through navigation on mobile or anything other than your post about opening match-ups, I'm so sorry if I did this wrong! Thank you so much💗))
you did everything right, no worries!! there actually should be a post on rules and stuff tho so um, i'll have to go check what's wrong with that soon. but you're all good!!
im a bit insecure about just how this turned out, cant really tell if you'll like it but we'll see!
I ship you with...
Fili!
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You've known Fili your entire life. You were born at around the same time Kili was and you're pretty sure that's the reason why you're so close to them. It makes sense. Your parents had never been the best and you had a lot of family that you were happy to escape from now and then, plus Dis was lovely and more of a mother to you than yours ever was. So you spent the better part of your childhood with Kili - and with Kili meant with Fili as well, because they came in a package deal. Always.
While Kili grew to be your best friend, much like a brother, Fili... you'd always felt a few butterflies around. You could've written it off as some kind of childhood crush, of an infatuation in your teenage years, but honestly, you'd never quite got over it. You were older now, old enough that you should have long since been normal about the whole thing, old enough to have found work for yourself and left your parents behind. But you were still just as close to Kili and Fili and no, you were not over your crush in the slightest. Over the years, you'd just gotten better at pushing it down and suppressing it.
So you're there with them when Thorin calls on them for the quest of reclaiming Erebor. You're there because you're practically family, because Thorin knows and trusts you, and you're just as quick to agree as his nephews. And why wouldn't you go? You love them all dearly, you'd never been on an adventure before and Erebor was your home too, after all, or would have been at least, under different circumstances. So a few weeks later you start out on a life-changing journey with your two favourite dwarves in the whole world and you're honestly only a bit wistful because you'd had to leave your books and paper behind.
The three of you are a force to be reckoned with. Kili matches your chaotic energy exactly and Fili is - though certainly being the most responsible out of the three of you - still not nearly as responsible as his uncle, so your journey to Bilbo's little home all the way in Bag's End is some of the most fun you've had in your entire life. Daily life with them is obviously great as well, but what with your work and all, you haven't seen them this much in a long, long while.
It quiets down a bit when the rest of the company joins (most of them you know, some of them you can't remember), but you're still enough to get on Thorin's nerves quite a lot. You do make friends with Bilbo, though, who's drawn to just how whimsical and open you are. He may have been a bit put off by your joking about with Kili and Fili at the start, but you have him charmed a few days into your journey. You talk about books and plants and really, anything at all, and by day six you think you may have found a new life-long friend in Bilbo.
But even though you're now spending your time getting to know someone new, you're still as observant as ever, and you notice - of course you do - that the closer you get to Bilbo, the less you see of Fili. Kili is always close by and you certainly spend at least half of your time joking about with him, but whenever you ride or walk next to Bilbo, talking and laughing, Fili seems to disappear somewhere into the background, so much so that you actually have to search for him to spot him. It hurts, a bit, because you can't seem to pinpoint just what's wrong for a while. Wasn't everything just fine when you started out on this journey? Had you said something, done something wrong? You knew this kind of thing from your parents, but never from Fili, especially because he knew about... well, about everything, really, so he knew just how sensitive you could be about things like these. You did your best not to let it bother you too much.
Instead, you focused on Bilbo. He was funny and sweet, intelligent and understanding and for as much as you love the dwarves, for as much as you love your kin, you like that he's not as rough and intense. He's different. And maybe you're a bit different than the rest of the dwarves, too - you'd always been a bit slimmer and smaller and more petite than the rest and maybe that had shaped your personality in some way, too, you weren't sure. Maybe that's why the two of you grew so close in such short time.
You express your feelings for him quite the same way you do for everyone: loud and chaotic, just the way you are. You tell him that he's funny and sweet, intelligent and understanding because that's exactly how you show people that you like them, so, well, you do. But every time when, in the spur of the moment, you give Bilbo a friendly compliment, out of the corner of your eyes you see Fili scoff. You frown and try not to interpret too much into it, but it's hard - after all, you've been doing nothing but interpret and think and imagine because you've kept all of your feelings for Fili bottled up inside of you for your entire life, analysing and wondering if maybe, just maybe, there was a tiny little chance that he liked you that way, too. Not that you've ever really found anything. He was always just Fili.
But not this time. No, not this time. This time he's scoffing and turning away and staring gloomily at you when he thinks you don't notice because you're too deep in conversation with Bilbo. You do, though, definitely, because he's not being as secretive as he thinks he is. You watch him argue with Kili one evening, which you're sure hasn't happened this severely in years. Simply put, he's being weird.
He stomps off and Kili plops down next to you right after - you ask, of course, what's wrong with his brother, but you've asked Kili multiple times already and he simply won't tell you. And as much as Fili's behaviour is upsetting you, you won't go up to him either, because you're not that kind of person that pushes others - you're not even really angry, you rarely are, because whatever the reason is why Fili is behaving this way, there surely is a reason and you know him well enough to be aware that it's a good one too.
It all comes to an end in Rivendell. Most of the dwarves are in a bad mood, Bilbo hasn't been as ecstatic the entire journey and Gandalf seems to be much happier here than travelling, so the company is a bit split when it comes to their opinions on this place. You don't mind it much. You like being clean for once. Bathing had become a luxury. So while the dwarves keep complaining and brooding moodily, you're talking happily with Bilbo and Gandalf.
The elves seem a bit put off by you, but you're used to that, and after a night in Rivendell, when the dwarves have started brooding less and - well, no, they're still complaining just as much - some of the elves are conversing more and more with you. Maybe it's because you're spending most of your time with Bilbo and Gandalf (and Elrond in tow) or maybe it's because you're open and friendly, but either way you're meeting new people left and right. And that's when Fili's behaviour changes yet again.
Instead of staying out of your space and scoffing, suddenly he's by your side everywhere you go, every step you take. You're happy at first, excited that he so surprisingly comes back to you (now you're glad that you weren't all that angry in the first place), but it becomes clear after a few minutes already that he's not there to talk to you very much. It seems that he's made it his mission to stand gloomily beside you, glare at everybody who comes close to you and generally answer everything you say to him with an unmotivated "hmpf". It irritates you.
But when you get woken up by an annoyingly loud knock in the middle of the night, that's it for you. You open the door to see Fili and you're not even angry, you're really just... tired. In every sense. He's standing there in his night clothes and he seems to have had an epiphany of some sort, he looks starstruck and you're so done. You're so done you just pull him in, close the door, get back in bed, pat the empty space next to you and tell him that if he wants to talk, he should do it quickly, before you fall asleep again.
He stands in the middle of your room for so long you've actually almost fallen asleep again when he speaks up. Stuttering, which isn't what you're used to at all when it comes to him, and stumbling over his words, admitting that he's been acting stupid, that he's been acting dumb, admitting that the reason, that reason that you were sure was there, is that he's in love with you. Deeply, desperately, for so long he can't remember a time when he wasn't.
You don't really think you've heard him right but you also don't care. It's too late, you're too tired, he's looking too warm and broad and comfortable and before you can think about much anything, you've reached for him and guided him to your bed and cuddled up to him - he smells familiar, he feels safe, and he's reaching his arms around you and placing a kiss on your hair and telling you good night and somewhere in your hazy mind, you recognise the weird feeling in your stomach as butterflies.
The next morning, you wake up warm and cozy and when you open your eyes, you're facing Fili. You're actually, honestly, truly facing Fili. It takes two seconds to register. Then you feel his breath on your lips and his forehead against yours and your eyes fall closed all by themselves as you listen to him ask if he can kiss you now. You let him. Of course you let him.
You actually do talk it out that morning, though. Between a lot of kisses and a lot of cuddling, there's also a lot of talking. You're a bit nervous (even though that feeling settles after about the third or fourth kiss) but Fili has always been good at convincing you that you were brave and strong enough to do anything, and with the rhythmic stroke of his hand on your arm, the way he beams at you when he makes you giggle, how happily he listens to you talk, all of that convinces you in just a few hours how very right you were to pine for him your entire life.
When you don't show up for breakfast, you guess the others were worried some elf had killed you in your sleep, so Kili comes knocking on your door some time before noon. In full Kili fashion, he doesn't really knock at all, he more like just comes barging into your room, so you have barely enough time to look up before he stands at the foot of your bed with a dumb grin on his face that tells you he was very much aware of what was going on with his brother the past few weeks.
You don't mind. You don't really mind anything anymore. Because you spend your days in Fili's arms now, with his hand in yours and courting braids in your hair, and you're happier than you've ever been before. Now the people you'd always considered family more than your real family did become your real family, a few years after you'd recovered Erebor, on the day that you marry Fili. The happiest day of your life, because Fili made you feel exactly the way you'd always wished he would, because he was exactly what you'd always wanted, because you loved him. And because he loved you.
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indecisive-dizzy · 9 months
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Ramble about Eddie to your heart’s content, bestie :D
I’m honestly very interested in your ideas :3
Again, don’t be scared to just ramble in my ask box, I love hearing peoples ideas
AJDKKAGAJAKAK- THANK YOU <3 <3
I'm wailing rn /pos
My AU! Disabled Eddie!! Ok so he wasn't born with his disability, it came about later.
My Current story is that he had stroke in late middle/early high school! I have done research and Yes it is possible for teens and younger to have strokes. From what I recall it can be significantly worse for them compared to adult strokes
Eddie was left with permanent complications and is disabled bc of it. He has coordination, balance, and general mobility complications among a list of other post stroke effects. I just found the word I was looking for a few days ago to describe his mobility issues, it's Ataxia!
Eddie has to deal with bouts of muscle weakness on his right side which can effect his vision. He also gets vertigo a Lot and at this point dizziness is expected every time he stands.
He uses forearm crutches when he needs extra help walking bc he does have good days where he may not need them! But for longer distances he brings them bc he's better safe than sorry. He also has cane but he doesn't use it As much.
He also has a wheelchair that he Hates. He hates having to use it. But his Really horrible days leave him unable to stand, much less walk. He wishes he could just hide it somewhere and never think about it but alas. it's important.
He dislikes the wheelchair so much bc it makes him feel useless. He is Not! I want to clarify that wheelchair users are perfectly Capable and Independent! Eddie just has an issue with overachieving and working himself too hard. He wants to be helpful and do So Much but there are some things he can't do while in his wheelchair. He was stuck in a chair for months after his stroke and it was devastating back then. He has No good memories with a wheelchair so he continues to dislike using it.
Ok putting a read more bc I am not shutting up for a While
Relationships with the neighbors! Generally the same. Barnaby doesn't chase him bc that would be mean (? I can't think of a better way to describe it)
Sally is still Sally but she's specific on her mailman hate (lmao) to make sure Eddie and everyone else knows she's not faulting him for his disability.
Hmm yeah everything else is pretty much the same. I guess everyone is also more open about offering Eddie help from time to time if he looks like he needs an extra hand. They're not persistent or anything, but if they see him struggling to carry a package or two they're more inclined to help.
I still don't know how Howdy gets his shit. Honestly If Eddie is having a crutch or chair day,, Howdy just won't get his stock unless he gets it himself. I can't think of a way for Eddie to deliver all those heavy ass boxes.
He does ask people to pick up their packages occasionally too. He tries to deliver them all himself but it's not always possible. He offers a trolley they can use.
I want to talk about angst. So this is very specific, I'll try to keep it short. growing up, Eddie lived in a four bedroom house. two downstairs master bedrooms and two upstairs normal bedrooms. Before his stroke he was upstairs, his older brother in the other room, and his older sister in the bedroom downstairs.
Afterwards he had to move downstairs. His sister Hated this. She loved her room and her private bathroom and she was very prissy about it.
This snowballed into her just,, taking all her frustrations out on Eddie. He took Her Bedroom. He's getting all the attention. Her little brother was ruining everything.
Eddie was devastated by this. He went as far as to attempt to convince his parents to let them switch rooms again. He couldn't physically walk up the stairs most days but he just wanted his big sister to not hate him anymore.
Their relationship never fully recovered. As an adult Eddie will still find ways to blame himself and feel guilty. But he just can't bring himself to talk to her.
They used to be so close. She let Eddie experiment with her makeup, they talked about fashion and boys and she helped him so so much when he was questioning his sexuality.
and then it just, fell apart. But not quietly like a loose thread but rather a house that wasn't built quite right and the screws came loose one by one.
Eddie's memory gets really fuzzy when thinking that far back. but some of those memories are burned into his mind and he wishes he could forget them like he does everything else.
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rcreveal · 9 months
Text
Feathers and Snakeskin
Summary:
Crowley calls Nina urgently for help with movie night. We find out why he's so nervous about this particular movie night. January 2024 prompt a week challenge: 1) Jane Austen, 2) “you're up to something” 3) Crowley's snake, 4) how you said I love you with something you (had) made
Work Text:
“Nina, come watch these movie trailers with me!” Crowley said urgently through the cell connection.
Nina stares at the line of the morning rush with her cell to her ear and a look of disbelief on her face, “You called me with the EXCEPTIONALLY URGENT setting because you want me to watch what with you?”
“Movie trailers.  I desperately need your help with movie night! Nina, please! You're my only hope!” begs Crowley.
Nina looks at the phone and at the crowd, shakes the phone a little, sighs hugely at the ceiling, and relents, “Fine, I'll be right there.”
Addressing the customers, “Oi! Either it's the end of the world or my friend's having a mental breakdown,” in the crescendo of coffee deficient despair she holds up her hands, “Eric's got this.  Be nice or he won't make cookies this week!” This was met with instant polite silence.  The crowd couldn't decide what was worse, being cut off from Nina's coffee or Eric's baking.
On the way out the door, Mrs. Sandwich leans into Nina, “Take care of Crowley, he's been looking off his feed lately.  Won't tell me what's going on.”
Nina hurries over to the bookshop, and enters it only to find Aziraphale sitting quietly doing what looks like calligraphy at his desk while Muriel is reading.
Nina looks from one to the other and asks “Where's Crowley?”
“Not here, Nina.  He went out on an errand this morning.  Are you alright?” inquires Aziraphale.
“Fine.  I'm fine, just needed a word, in person, with Crowley. See you for movie night later?” Nina tries to cover while walking rapidly out the door. 
Once she's out of angelic earshot, she whispers into her mobile, “Why didn't you tell me you weren't at the shop!  Where are you?”
“Little distracted.  I'm at that movie rental place.  I'll share my location with you,” 
Nina's phone chimes. Her map app directs her to a video rental shop. ‘We still have one of those?’ she thinks and starts walking.  “What's with all the cloak and dagger? Are you ok?”
“I'm ok.  Nnnngh, not ok.  Physically safe, but not ok? Is that a thing?  I needed complete secrecy,” says Crowley.
“For movie trailers? You're up to something!” Nina is talking while walking through the neighborhood until she finds a familiar old storefront, ‘Kathy’s Movie Rental Emporium.’
Opening the door is like stepping into her past.  There are floor to ceiling DVDs and VHS tapes, separated into movie categories with handwritten signs in Kathy’s clear hand.  The shop is made of little nooks and crannies packed with movies with little sign posts on some of the shelves with directions to the different genres.
Nina had spent so much time in this shop when she was a teen.  She’d been searching for a community she couldn’t name and didn’t even know if it existed or not.  In Kathy’s shelves, she found windows onto other worlds, worlds where there were people like her who loved like she did and got to have the life they dreamed about.  This shop had been a bright spot in an otherwise difficult series of years.  She hadn’t seen the store front in ages.
“Nina, is that you, dear?” Kathy, at her usual station behind the till, is more spare now, but still sports the sharply fashionable clothes and architect’s round frames with a bob that's gone silver with age.  “Yeah, Kathy, yeah, it's so good to see you! I'm sorry, I thought you'd gone out of business when streaming got big.  I walked by a few times…” Nina looks bemused, then rallies, “A friend of mine is here? Crowley, chap about this tall, wears mostly black?”
Kathy comes out from behind the counter and beckons Nina to follow her behind the stacks, down a narrow corridor lined with classic movie posters. “It’s so good you came over! He's in the private theater. Needs a little help.” Kathy knocks gently on a door under red velvet curtains and gold braid.
“Cooee! Crowley? Nina's come down,” Kathy calls and opens the door.
The little private theater is big enough for about twenty people and a screen, with a little stage that Nina recalled had also hosted some fledgling cinematographers and their works.  Now, it contains one agitated Crowley and drifts of huge black feathers.  Nina looks from Crowley to Kathy and whispers “If I'm not out in an hour, come knock?” 
Kathy's face creases into a warm smile, “Just so, dear.”
Nina turns back to Crowley saying, “What’s going on?  Where’d all these feathers come from?” 
Crowley continues pacing, saying, “I’m molting.”
Nina looks at him askance, “You molt?”
Dipping his head side to side, Crowley says, “I molt when I’m nervous.”
“You didn’t molt during the Second Coming,” Nina points out.
Rubbing his neck like it itches, he says, “I wasn’t nervous during the Second Coming.  I was many things, but I was not nervous .”
Hands on hips still watching Crowley pace, Nina says, “Ok, you molt when you’re nervous.  Why are you nervous?”
“I want movie night to be perfect this week!  I want to pick the perfect movie! And I can’t see!”  
Nina walks over to him quickly now, “Of course you can’t see in here, you’ve got sunglasses on!”
“I’ve got sunglasses on because of why I can’t see!  I’m shedding, too,”  Crowley takes off his glasses to expose eyes that are covered with a cloudy bluish-white film and rubs his chest while uncomfortably moving his neck. Nina is strongly reminded of her childhood pet corn snake when he was about to shed, all tetchy and restless.
“You shed.  Like a snake?”
“I only shed when I’m really nervous. And I can’t do it in this form, but I can’t see to get home.  And I’ll only keep nervously molting and shedding, until I get this movie picked out! And itchy!” grumbles Crowley.
“Ri-ight. You’re nervous about picking out a movie for our regular weekly movie night that we’ve been doing for almost two years like clockwork. And you can’t watch the trailers now because you can’t see.  O-kay” Nina decides to tackle the more manageable problem first.  “What movies are you choosing between?”
Pacing and scratching, Crowley says, “‘Emma’ the new 2020 version, ‘Ella Enchanted’, uh and ‘The Princess Bride’.”
“I assume that you wouldn’t be this nervous if you weren’t trying to impress Mr. Fell somehow?  And these are all fluffy love stories, with twists and turns before people recognize they love each other, then happy endings.  Mmm, drop ‘Ella Enchanted.’  Everyone loves Anne Hathaway, but I don’t know about the fairy tale thing.”
Crowley interjects, “‘The Princess Bride’ is one of his favorites!  He talks along with all the lines.”
Nina considers, “It’s a reliable good time, but has he seen that production of ‘Emma’?”
“Don’t think so,” Crowley tugs at his collar.
“Have you?” Nina asks curiously.
“Not yet!” Crowley said exasperatedly, “The movie lady, Kathy, suggested it and I was getting ready to screen it back here, when, eyes!” he gestures angrily at his face.
“‘Emma’ then, Kathy’s a magic worker when it comes to picking the most perfect movie for you to see next,” remarks Nina decisively, “I liked that one.  Stellar cast, good music, usual Jane Austen antics, remarkable costumes.  Yeah, Mr Fell would enjoy it.”
But Crowley is directing a dubious look in her general direction, “You watch Jane Austen films?”
Nina pulls a face then grudgingly admits, “I may have discovered a new appreciation for them since Mr Fell made us watch that ‘Pride and Prejudice’ production back when movie night began.  But don’t change the subject, that’s your movie sorted.  Now, do I just fetch the Bentley and take you home or to Mr Fell’s?”
“It, uh, really can’t wait that long,” Crowley sounds a little embarrassed.
“What? You’re going to turn into a snake right here so you can shed?”
“Yessss, that about ssssumsss it up.  Sssssorry.”
They’re both startled by a soft knock on the door.
“Sorry, dears, it took me a little to find it in the back of the storerooms, but I think this will do nicely for you,” Kathy wheels in a large structure of intertwining wooden roots, rough and nobbly.  “Some of my naga clients have had the same thing happen to them now and then.”
“I’m not a naga,” grumps Crowley.
“Well, no, dear.  Tho’ you’re handsome enough to be one and you need to shed your snake skin like one! Take all the time you need.” Kathy remarks brightly as Crowley pulls the structure further into the room, not entirely surprised to have run into another occultly attuned human.
Nina suddenly puts some very random facts together.  “Kathy, do you know my grandmother, by any chance?” asks Nina.
“Of course, dear, Alvita and I go back a long way,” says Kathy.
“What’s your user name in the Book Club server then?” asks Nina.
“Why it’s ‘MovieMama’! And you must be ‘Coffeehuman’, am I right?” Kathy remarks delightedly.
“Pleassssse, ladiessss!  Sssssome privassssssssy?” Crowley begs.
“Sure, sure, let me know when you’re done and I’ll help you tidy the theater,” Nina closes the door behind herself and hangs the ‘In use’ sign, shaking her head.
Pointing her thumb over her shoulder, Nina asks, “How long does this sort of thing usually take?” 
“Oh, about an hour or so, but he’ll be really stunning when he’s done!  The colors are never brighter than right after a shed. Would you like a sandwich while we wait?” Kathy heads up to the front of the shop again.
Nina is gazing around, “I never got a chance to tell you how important this shop, how important you were when I was figuring out about myself.  I came back to the neighborhood looking for your shop, but I couldn’t find it.”
Kathy looks gently at Nina, “Thank you, dear, it was a pleasure.  I got called away for a bit.  But it’s lovely to be spending some time in Soho again.”
“So it wasn’t just me being mental, or you closing shop?  The whole place was gone?”
“Only gone from here. I was open in one of my other locations.  My Book Club user name was originally going to be ‘MultiverseMovieMama’ but it just took too long to type,” Kathy grins at Nina.
“So, I haven’t been able to find that film about the group of friends at the cottage on the coast because it’s not from this world?”
“Yes.  I’ve still got the copy.  Would you like to watch it now?”
“Would I ever!  It’s hilarious!” Nina exclaimed.
Crowley did come out in about two hours looking rather spiffy, if you fancied men.  Nina was just glad to see that he looked human and calmer.  She went into the theater with some large plastic trash bags, “I’ll get the feathers, but the snakeskin is all you.”
“Fair,” said Crowley, unwrapping twenty or so feet of fresh snakeskin from the wooden sculpture and gently putting it into another plastic bag.
While they worked, Nina asks, “What’s making you so nervous that you’re shedding and molting?  I can’t believe you’re driving yourself crazy about just a movie?”
Finding feathers that have gotten into surprising places, Crowley replies, “I need to talk to Aziraphale and I’m hoping the movie will help me, maybe get him in the right mood.”
“Get him in the right mood for what?  You don’t need a rom-com to make him realize he loves you.  You’ve already done that.”  Nina stares hard at him with her head to the side, then the penny drops, “You’re not going to propose to Mr Fell?” She surveys Crowley’s sudden stillness, “You’re going to propose to Mr Fell!!! Why!??”
“See, I knew you’d understand,” he smiles ruefully.
“Understand what?  You don’t need to get married!  You can be 100% committed to each other and faithful, why would you want all that silly ceremony?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Mr Fell would be over the moon!” which sets off a sappy smile on Crowley’s face, “But you can’t want…why?” and Nina suddenly doesn’t look like she’s talking about just Crowly and Aziraphale’s relationship.
Crowley flops down on a theater seat with his bag of feathers in his lap and Nina sits down next to him, hands playing with a long black pinion feather that just escaped.
“The past two years have been amazing, remarkable, more happiness than I would have thought I deserved.  But, everything still feels up in the air, not locked down, somehow.  I want to show Aziraphale that I will make the most binding contract I know of to say I never want to leave.  Even if I get angry or he does, I’ll do the work necessary to stay an ‘us’.” Crowley looks over at Nina hoping she understands, but she’s turned a bit away from him and her voice sounds a little choked when she asks, “You want to show him or you want him to show you?  You’re still worried that he’ll leave again, aren’t you?”
Crowley scrubs his face with his hands, “Nailed it again, Nina,” he says ruefully. 
“But why do you want any relationship advice from me?  The last time Maggie and I gave you relationship advice about talking to Mr Fell…” Nina breaks off.
“Trust me, Nina, the advice was good.  I just carried it out badly,” admits Crowley softly.
Nina turns back to him, and smiles a little tremulously.  “That's what marriage means to you? A commitment to never stop trying to be the best partners you can be? Whether he or you needs supporting or to be called out?”
“Yeah,” says Crowley.
“And you think you can tell him that, too?” asks Nina.
“Yeah,” says Crowley.
Nina nods decisively, “Right then, you’ve got my blessing or whatever.”
Crowley looks surprised, “Your blessing?”
“Or whatever, I assume that's what you were needing?  A marriage skeptic to kick you in the arse?”
Staring at her again, Crowley slowly grins, “Yeah, something like that. Thanks for coming over.  If you'll just help me get these bags of feathers out to the Bentley for safekeeping?  I've got a few more errands to run before tonight.”
Aziraphale looked up when the doorbell tinkled, and the breath caught in his throat.  Crowley stood framed with the light falling on him from the shop windows with his hair iridescently red.  Azriaphale was taken again by the line of his jaw, the lithe energy in his frame.  A single black feather materialized and drifted gently to the floor.
Crowley was likewise arrested by the sight of Aziraphale with the light somehow igniting the dust motes into a literal halo about his head.  Caught by the look of wonder in his eyes, his quiet strength, and in the way he seemed so comfortable in himself.  The ink was still wet on a heavy piece of cardstock covered with the angel’s best copperplate.
“I brought a movie for movie night.” Crowley said, “And Coca-cola’s for the rum and cokes.  Proper glass bottles, “ Crowley held up the bottles as evidence.
Aziraphale stood at his desk, “Everyone’s given their regrets.  Last minute things, couldn’t be avoided.  It’s just you and me tonight,” Aziraphale’s hand reaches down to twirl his ring as he steps forward to take the cardboard crate of glass bottles from Crowley’s hand, the light sparkling in the glass and illuminating the deep sepia beverage within.  Rather than going all the way to the kitchen, or even breaking eye contact with Crowley, he just reaches back to set it on whatever flat surface is available.
“It’s rather fortuitous actually,” Aziraphale continues, “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about.”
“Yeah, uh, there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk with you about, too,” Crowley stammers and another ebony feather materializes as it drifts towards the floor.
“Oh, well, you first, dear boy, last time we both wanted to talk at the same time…I should have let you say your piece,” Aziraphale's eyes well up with tears at the memory.
“I’ve learned that I can stand to listen better.  Go ahead, Angel,” Crowley says softly.
Aziraphale is spinning his ring now and biting his lip, “We’ve been courting for almost two years now, and it’s glorious, really it is.”  Crowley has leaned back to grasp the shop door behind him for support.
“I just always thought it would be a…a temporary phase,” the angel says haltingly.
“Temporary…?” Crowley croaks.
“Yes, like before we…well, you’ll think I’m silly,” Aziraphale looks away.
“Before we?” Crowley, breathing again, stands up from where he was leaning against the door and catches the angel’s hand in his.
“Before we…got married.  See!  I knew you’d think I’m just an old silly!” and the angel tries to pull away, but Crowley tugs him back, saying softly,
“I think I should have my go now, alright?” smiling gently while reaching into his jacket, Crowley pulls out a small jewelry box. “I love you, a lot.  And I want to be with you, trying to be the best ‘us’ we can be, good times, hard times, both.  And I would like…for you… to marry me.”
“You’re asking me? You’re asking me?!” Aziraphale sounds astonished.
“Angel, if you don’t give me your answer right now, I swear…Don’t you want…?”  doubt is creeping back into the corners of his voice.
“Want to marry you? Of course , I want to marry you!  I’ve wanted to marry you for the past two years!  I thought you didn’t care for all that ceremony, and,”
But Crowley is kissing him, and Aziraphale is heartily kissing him back and they’re both crying, by the time they breathlessly break off from kissing with Aziraphale’s, “Oh!” 
Aziraphale starts patting all over his coat and vest, mumbling, “Drat! Where has it gotten to!” and he finally sighs and slips his hand into the breast pocket of his vest, pulling out a small leather pouch that’s been resting over his heart for more than a year.
“I had this made for you, in case we ever did, get married officially.”  Aziraphale spills a ring into his palm, a black band with gold inlay to form interlocking wings.
Kissing Aziraphale’s temple gently, Crowley says, “I love it, Angel. Here's mine for you,” and Crowley opens the jewelry box that contains a gold ring sporting fine engraving that creates the look of a DaVinci sketch of intertwining dark feathers and light.
“Oh! It’s very like your friend’s drawings!  Well done!” Aziraphale remarks.
Solicitously picking up the few feathers that have fallen to the floor, Aziraphale asks, “Is this why you’ve been molting, dear?  I wondered what was bothering you so.” 
“Yeah, ‘fraid so.  What have you been doing with the feathers?”
“Oh, I just stuff them in the eiderdown with mine, or use them as quills. I've, uh, been mocking up wedding invitations, um, using our feathers for quills,” says Aziraphale.
Crowley looks at the drying invitation on the desk, eyebrows raised, “How many invitations have you done?”
“Oh several dozen, they're in my trousseau with the complimenting monogrammed handkerchiefs!” the angel burbles nervously.
“A trousseau?!  I look forward to seeing that…especially the garters,” Crowley grins mischievously.
Crowley looks over his shoulder at the coffee shop where all their friends are glued to the windows trying to see their exchange.
Aziraphale follows his gaze, “Shall we let them in on the good news?” then opens the door behind Crowley and sweeps him out onto the step where the angel bellows, “I SAID YES!” and then tugs Crowley into a jog across the street.  They tumble hand in hand into the coffee shop into a cacophony of hugging, crying, laughing people.  Their friends are jumping up and down, and everyone is either hugging someone or clamoring to hear all about the proposal, before they move the party over to Kathy's shop to watch ‘Emma.’
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sanstropfremir · 2 years
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I'm really enjoying reading through your blog, and of course it has to do a lot with the fact that I also love to bits everything Taemin puts out. Unfortunately tumblr makes it really annoying to try and get to older posts, so sorry if you've already spoken about any of this T-T
A big part of why I love Taemin's solo work so much is his unique style, which shines through both technique and performance.
Taemin has many times spoke about how he's heavily involved in everything concerning his work: styling, picking out the samples, lyrics, themes, choreo, you name it he took care of it at some point. "The taemin genre" couldn't have emerged simply out of him being an above average dancer, his signature is on everything.
But surely, very often he can't do much more than express his opinion on something, and a lot of the end product is still created by other people? It would be silly to expect him to dance, sing, produce, write lyrics, style all at once, right? Or would it?
I very, very often hear people take pride in the fact that their fav is an "all-rounder", that presumably does most of the "creating" purely by themselves, or at least can shine all alone, even without the support of a group. But does that imply that artists that only do the performing part are somehow less "authentic", or worthy of praise? Or that idols comfortable in their position as a team player aren't talented or into what they do? To call yourself a master you probably have to spend a decade on just one skill, so why expect teens and young adults to be Da Vincis?
Now, of course it's still amazing when an idol puts in the work and branches out. Taemin's vocal improvement undoubtedly gave him more creative opportunities and made his stages that much more impactful.
But even just being an idol and maintaining an attractive appearance (for criteria as harsh as it is in k-pop) would easily count as a full-time job, so I would go as far as to say that this expectation of total creative control is a little delusional.
haha it was really funny watching you go through everything! yea tumblr is really bad about that, but if you go to my blog on desktop/not the mobile version you should be able to page back through ALL my asks, which are all tagged by 'answers'. there are like probably around a thousand of those now tho.
i have kind of talked about this before, but i'm very happy to talk about it again, because i always think it's worthwhile to clarify what the actual process is like for creating a collaborative work.
you are right, taemin and every other idol who says they're 'involved' in the process in some way is most likely just picking options and expression opinions about things that designers and stylists have already curated for them. it is physically impossible for a single person to do EVERYTHING involved in something like creating a kpop cb, because there are just too many tasks. and if one person DID try to do it all on their own, it would take probably 100x as long to finish. let me use styling as an example: lots of idols have professed to have input on styling choices, but this can range anywhere from bringing in moodboards and having discussions about what styling they're interested in at design meetings, to just picking which thing they like best from a selection of clothes already provided by the designer. in NO fucking world is an idol:
taking measurements
shopping for fabric
shopping for clothing
sewing and altering clothing
doing the budgeting
labelling and collating all the pieces together
taking fitting notes
these are all extremely specialized skills that 1) take TIME to learn how to do and how to do well, and 2) just take TIME to DO. you want to know what i spend probably 40% of the total production time of a show doing when i costume design? fucking SHOPPING. an idol may contribute ideas to a design and make executive choices, but in NO way are they solely responsible for everything about styling. the only idol that i would believe to have a heavier hand than most in this regard is kibum, who does actually have a good knowledge of fashion and fabric and i could see him going shopping with a designer. but if you think that man is sewing anything? cmon.
and this is just for ONE aspect of a cb. you think an idol is also painting the set? shopping for props? setting up the lighting? most idols that are known for dancing aren't even choreographing their own work, INCLUDING taemin. it is absolutely and unquestionably delusional to say that an idol has total creative control over something. this whole idea doesn't originate in kpop (it's auteur theory's fault), but kpop does suffer from an acute version of it, because there's a general collective concensus that devalues the creative work of the labourer. basically, people will only classify you as a "true artist" if you're the one who comes up with the ideas, because ideas and concepts are given more importance and weight. it's a type of because 'being in charge'/'at the top of the food chain that's been perpetuated by capitalism and western postmordern art theory that intentionally places value of conceptual skills higher than those of craftspeople. no type of person is a ''true artist'' and most art takes many people with many different skills in order to create. i find it unintentionally very funny that you use da vinci as an example of an 'allrounder' (or 'renaissance man' as they used to be called) because he, like every other famous painter from the era, used apprentices to help paint his paintings!!!!! he was even an apprentice himself for verrocchio!! da vinci's legacy would not have been possible without all the other people who helped him create the work that he did!
what is the real kicker about this whole mess is that downplays the beauty of the fact that art is made collaboratively. an 'ideas' person cannot realize those ideas without a craftsperson there to help them. everyone who takes part in creating something is important, and it's fucked to only acknowledge specific people in that process.
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monty-glasses-roxy · 2 years
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💜
Chica and Roxy
💜 (Purple heart) for a dealers choice!
AHAAA MY BEANS!!! The Pupcakes ship! One of my favourites! I'm doing all the options again because I've had them in literally every one of those relationships before so I got plenty to talk about! I'm so sorry mobile users this may end up a long post for you.
Okay so starting with friendship, they would both be surprisingly physically affectionate with each other. Hugs, and linking arms are just the norm for them. They also have the most fun with their animal bases, trying to figure out what each other are saying via barks and clucks. The pair of them have the wildest girl's nights ever. Like, Roxy turned the bumber cars into a hyped up waltzer so the two tried to see how fast they could get it to go before either it couldn't go any faster or they both fell off. Chica likes to try and start prank wars with Roxy but whenever she's been got, Roxy just fucking trumps her with the most over the top mousetrap style contraption ever and the best Chica can retaliate with is drawing a massive dick on the wall of Roxy's room. Like Freddy, Roxy is also pretty big on parallel play as well as every other type of play, so the two also have spent many a night vibing in one of their rooms or Roxy's garage with Roxy playing some sort of game or working on fixing something while Chica talks nonstop for like three hours or practices her guitar or something. They have the occasional playfight but they usually settle their differences with a game of Uno... which yeah, solves the problem technically but it also starts an all out war so really, it's not doing them any favours.
As siblings? Hm okay gonna be honest, I haven't played with that idea as much but it would be much the same as their friendship except with less boundaries. Chica will just randomly burst into Roxy's room out of nowhere and never leave ever again. Roxy's room is Chica's room and Chica's room is Roxy's room. Oh my god don't ever let them play Monopoly. As general family, they can be much sweeter than that though. They vibe and bounce off each other really well and can typically tell when the other one is having a hard time a mile off. They share pretty much everything and will do the odd little thing for each other if the opportunity presents itself, and of course they're ride or die for each other. Chica would kill for Roxy and Roxy would heavily intimidate and maybe throw a few punches for Chica, whatever's necessary.
As romantic partners, the sweetness is amped up but also so is the nonsense. I like to think that Chica, knowing that Roxy loves attention and big grand gestures, tries really hard to ask her out in just as big and flashy a gesture as Roxy typically admires. And on the flip side, if Roxy does try and ask Chica out, she knows that Chica prefers the smaller, more personal ways to ask someone something important like that and thus, tries to ask her out like that. Which means you could easily have Chica get cold feet and back out of asking Roxy out because her idea was big or grand enough for her, and Roxy showing up afterwards with a bowl of love heart sweets that all read 'DATE ME' on them and sits there with her until the penny drops and they're a thing. I may have planned for that to be a thing in a fic but that's neither here or there, it's sugary sweet okay? They were both wrong anyway. Roxy talks about hijacking shows to show someone you love them but she honestly implodes on the spot every single time Chica does something small like drawing a picture for her or replacing the stickers on the windows the staff keep cleaning off so Roxy can see there's a wall there. Chica is the opposite, always talking about the little things but the moment Roxy performs a love song for her, in front of all of their friends, Chica is on cloud nine.
In terms of their chaos amping up? Chica made titty shaped chocolate for her one Valentines and Roxy wrote 'I ♥ Chica' in literal fire. Date night? It's fucking roulette. Are they gonna watch a movie together or are they going to add another six pages to the rule book and break a hole in the wall? Who knows! Not them! It always ends on sweet and soft cuddles though. The amount of physical affection only increased when they got together and now they're practically joined at the hip. They're so in love too! Roxy's tail just wagging constantly when they're together and Chica's eyes going heart shaped whenever she zones out thinking about her... they could be so sweet!
And now the reverse. Oh boy the reverse. Listen, these two? At each other's throats? All the time? The only time they're in the same room with each other is during rehearsals, group photoshoots with kids or when on stage together. Believe me, you do not want to get between these two when they're fighting. A truce?? From these two?? Incredibly rare. They've done it maybe twice ever and only in the most dire of situations. Left unattended, they will rip each other to shreds. Roxy will be pissed off about it for like a month and many of staffbots will die to her over it while Chica will just rant and rave the moment someone mentions Roxy's name in her presence for a while. One of the big things they fight over? Well, their animal bases have very different ways of treating people. Roxy being on the side of 'look out for your pack' and Chica being on the side of 'know your place'. Yeah it doesn't end well very often. Chica comparing her to Foxy and invading Roxy's space on purpose when she knows it stresses her out and makes her mad while Roxy has fun sabotaging the music players in Mazercise to piss her off and getting Mapbot to haunt her for weeks at a time. Getting them to get along is Bonnie's life work and it's not going very well. They were on the same team in Fazerblast once and they currently hold the joint record for most points lost to friendly fire. They both have some S tier roasts though. They can absolutely obliterate each other whenever they get the chance.
They have so much potential!! They could be funny besties or they could be madly in love or chaotic siblings or lifelong enemies! They're very versatile! I love them!
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onyourstageleft · 11 months
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tw: pet health, animal sickness, cancer mention
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idk how to do a read more on mobile sorry y'all but this is your chance to scroll on
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so Peggy has some lumps under her skin. we noticed them on Tuesday night, there's two of them close together on her hip. called the vet this morning and they got her in at 2pm and took a biopsy and they'll call me back either Saturday or Monday with what's going on, they won't speculate or anything, but I did the very unwise pet parent thing and took to Google and based on everything I can find it is most likely fibrosarcoma which is a difficult to treat cancer and also expensive bc it involves surgery and continuous radiation/chemotherapy for several months and frankly I don't care how much it costs I will go into all the debt for this cat, I have a 9k limit on CareCredit and am unafraid to max it out + my other credit cards it's not even the money that bothers me, but if I'm right about what it is the prognosis isn't great for long term health and that is going to break me. She's my baby, she's only 7, she was literally the only thing keeping me from going off the deep end at some points in college, she's supposed to meet the kids I want to have in a few years, she's been here for most of my adult life and I will absolutely lose my sanity if I lose her anytime in the next few years. she has to make it to 10, ideally she'd be around for another 10 years past that but I'm realistic, I know 12 is perfectly reasonable so that's what the goal has always been, I literally can't do this without her. and my partners love her SO. MUCH. Peyton dotes on her, he's only been around for 5 of those years but he is so so in love with this cat, she is our baby, I would be lost without her so uhh if this turns out to be what I am afraid it is, don't be surprised if long form rant text posts become more common here bc I will absolutely lose more than a shred of my sanity.
also I guess don't be surprised if you see some sort of fundraising post from me in the future bc while I am unafraid to max out credit cards those bitches will want their money back at some point and I am unfortunately not a rich bitch, although quite frankly that is the least of my priorities rn, I just want to do whatever I possibly can for my baby. logically I know that I've done what I can but the anxiety is running away with me rn. like what if the tiny spot I felt on her a couple months ago and then couldn't find again when I looked for it was this before it got big what if I could have caught it earlier I should have been more diligent in checking or made a note of exactly where the tiny spot was initially so even if I couldn't find it again maybe the vet could have? I know I didn't put it off substantially and I really trust this vet they've been great but I could HEAR her as they were trying to numb and biopsy the spots she was so angry at them and once they shaved the area it looks SO much bigger than we could feel, like we knew there was one spot but were iffy on a second one and you can see them so clearly now they're big and slightly discolored and I am afraid. thankfully she hasn't been acting any different like she was literally having zoomies this morning but the idea of not having her zooming around makes me want to crawl into a bog and be preserved for a thousand years okay
anyway i know I've posted pics of her at some point but it's been a while so idk what I tagged them or where to find them but if you believe in literally anything at all I would appreciate an appeal on her behalf like I know there are so so many bigger things going on but Peggy Sue is my baby. other alises include Soupy Peg, Miss Ma'am, Peggum, Pegasus, Peggle, Soupiest, etc if you would like to be specific.
okay I'm gonna go take a bath now and try to read a book bc I need to not be on the internet rn, let's all spare a collective thought for my sanity
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