Tumgik
#1) i would like to i think it would be fun 2) it would alleviate so much guilt 3) i think about that quote about writing in a language no
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i really truly need to start learning languages and learning them properly
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beloved-calypso · 1 year
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・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖔 𝖕𝖊𝖔𝖕𝖑𝖊 𝖉𝖆𝖞𝖉𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚? ♡ ・ ゜ ʚɞ ゜ ゜‎♡‧₊˚✧ ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა ✧˚₊‧♡
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♡ 𝒩𝑜𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈 𝑜𝓇 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝒷𝓈𝑜𝓇𝒷𝓈 𝒾𝓃 𝒾𝓉𝓈𝑒𝓁𝒻 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝒶𝒸𝓊𝓁𝓉𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔. 𝐸𝓍𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝑒𝓍𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒶 𝓈𝓁𝑒𝑒𝓅 𝑜𝒻 𝓌𝒽𝒾𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂. 𝒰𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝒾𝓉𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝒻𝓁𝓊𝑒𝓃𝒸𝑒, 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒, 𝓈𝓅𝒶𝒸𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓈 𝓃𝑜 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝒹𝒾𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒
~ .𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓍𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓇𝑒 𝒟𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓈, ♡
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All pictures and gifs are not mine but belong to their original artists.♡
I. -> II. -> III.
ᴀᴘᴘʟʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘɪᴄᴋ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴀᴘᴘʟɪᴄᴀʙʟᴇ! ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ, ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ, ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴏʀ ꜰᴜᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ!
~ XOXO 💋🎀
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⊰᯽⊱┈───✧
౿૮꒰ྀི pile 1 ๑◞꒱ა
Knight of Wands, The Magician, King of Swords (rx)
Whew! The cards flew out for this one. Wow Pile 1, people daydream about joining you on adventures and to go thrill-seeking. They want to come with you in full confidence and offer you experiences you've never gone through before. Either way these people think of you as a creative force, someone exciting and fun-loving. Maybe your extroverted and are quite lively, or you could be introverted but give people the sense that there is an inner rich world within you where you roam free. People desperately want to see that part of you, to tear down the walls you have. People imagine you going wild, being open and free-spirited. They imagine letting their own guards down around you and seeing how you would react, if you would like them or find them as interesting as they see you. They want to be the center of your attention. It would be super flattering. Your a point of fascination for many pile 1. Do you have a lot of creative hobbies or pursuits? People see you as being capable of anything. They find you so interesting as if you are the life of a party, or specifically, the life of their daydreams. These daydream could be coming from people you would least expect. They could usually seem disinterested and nonchalant to you, even cold, but inwardly you run wild in their fantasies.
For the romantics, people daydream about having a spicy, hot flings with you! They imagine coming towards you and enticing you into a passionate affair, not necessarily one where cheating is involved (although this is true for quite a few of you) but one where it's purely fun, spontaneous, and consequence-free. (This isn't an 18+ reading so I wont get too much into detail, but I will get nasty with the next pac 😏). You may be seen as a challenge for them to conquer. They want to see what you have to hide and exploit it for themselves, and you have more people here that are confident in actually confiding these things to you than you think!
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౿૮꒰ྀི pile 2 ๑◞꒱ა
2 of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups (rx)
The vibe I get from you Pile 2 is that you are a very busy person, or that people mostly see you while your busy out doing things. From one thing to another your always seen being caught between something. You have a lot of things on your plate, and people really respect your work ethic and ambition, but people also want to alleviate your burden. People daydream about helping you, working alongside you, getting close to you and befriending you. I think people especially daydream about you in the work/school setting. It could be that people think working alongside you would benefit them somehow, like they could improve in their studies/work. You could be a master at something and they envy your talent. They imagine walking up to you and starting a conversation based on these talents and forming a bond. For the romantics, daydreamers would be willing to do anything to sweep you away from the responsibilities of everyday life. They want to be your source of distraction and comfort, for you to focus on them and leave everything behind, the Prince Charming to your Cinderella. They think of themselves as seeming delusional for believing you would give them the time of day. You seem so rational and unbothered by anyone, not exactly cold, but you value your time. People daydream about being someone worthy of you, someone who you would brag about to friends or family, bring around your social circle. You could also serve as a distraction to those with busy lives. You bring about a sense of relief and their fantasies center around you just being around them, relaxing, taking breaks and chilling, away from work and responsibilities. I think most won't approach you though simply because they would assume you to be too practical to entertain any fantasies they have.
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౿૮꒰ྀི pile 3 ๑◞꒱ა
The Empress (rx), The High Priestess (rx), The Page of Pentacles
You're a subject of mystery Pile 3. I think you give off beautiful, sad girl energy. If you're insecure and keep to yourself, people notice this and feel sympathy for you. They think you're beautiful and they want to show this to you. People daydream about comforting you, healing you, being the one to nurture you and take away any pains you hold within. You come off as very withdrawn and anxious. People think that you hide things and are afraid to express who you truly are. They know you won't come towards them so they think up scenarios where you both are forced together, where you both are secluded and you slowly open up to them and confide in them your secrets. They daydream about you being openly vulnerable to them in a way you don't with anyone else; it would make them feel special. They think that you are sheltered and don't know much or have many interesting experiences and they want to be the ones to provide that to you. For the romantics, it's the same energies. They want to be your provider and confider. They want to impress upon you just how beautiful you are all the while keeping you to themselves. They daydream about uncovering you layer by layer, and yes, in the sensual way as well, but it's not that type of reading so I'll be glossing over this part. But people would be flattered to have your attention, especially since your so pretty. I'd be careful because it's giving me the sense that people want to prey upon your vulnerability. They want you to be consumed by them just as much as you consume them. They may even end up idealizing you just because there's so much mystery around you that it's easier to let their fantasies run wild. Most won't approach though because they are scared of disturbing your sensitive nature and offending you.
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౿૮꒰ྀི pile 4 ๑◞꒱ა
9 of wands, 4 of Swords, The Lovers
Oof, did you come back from a breakup pile 4? If not, you've been through a loss of some kind. People can sense that you're sad about something. You give off wounded warrior vibes. I think your keeping your head up strong but inwardly your still recovering from whatever has happened in the past. You've withdrawn into yourself and people want to coax you back out of that shell. People daydream about cheering you up, about being the one to turn that frown upside down. You arouse people's protective instincts. There's something nostalgic about you like you remind people of their sibling or a childhood friend. People may even view you as defenseless and in need of special attention. They dream about soothing you through healing words, caring for you like a lost or wounded puppy. People can see themselves forming a strong friendship with you in the aftermath of what looks like betrayal. They are likely to relate. For the romantics, people daydream about being your valiant knight. They want to be your defender of justice, they may even want to give payback to the person that hurt you. They want to give you a love offering of their own. They see the both of you as having magnetic chemistry. They want to solidify a relationship with you, something long-term and better than whatever you had before. They see the both of you being stronger together, regaining back your power and happiness. Sorry I didn't get much for this pile. The energy is likely clouded because whatever you got going on is so strong it's affecting your aura, but just know it's temporary. Feel free to check another pile if you feel called to it!
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ᴀɴʏ ᴄʀɪᴛɪᴄɪꜱᴍꜱ ᴏʀ ꜰᴇᴇᴅʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴀʀᴇ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀᴍ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴘɪɴɪᴏɴꜱ ᴀꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ. ♡
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ᴅɪꜱᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ
© lolita-bonita — Please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other social media platforms without my permission. This is the only platform that I post this type of content. If you see my work being posted anywhere else, please kindly report them to me. ♡
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✨️ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Tarot is not an exact science, nor can it produce factually true information. All things posted are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The future is fluid, and what may happen is based on your choices and actions, not what I and a deck of cards say. You are still the creator of your future. ✨️
⊰᯽⊱┈───── ✧
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valiantstarlights · 7 months
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Omegaverse Lore: The Crucial Hours
I originally posted this omegaverse lore on @mr-sadman discord, but I'm gonna post it here as well for easier access. 😊 Feel free to use this in your omegaverse stories, as long as you give credit/tag me. Thank you! 🙇‍♀️ I'm looking forward to seeing all the hurt/comfort/spicy fics inspired by this. 🥰
Note: I have rewritten most of this to sound like something you would read in a medical brochure for fun, and then I went ahead and made an actual medical brochure (cover) for it. 😂
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The Crucial Hours during Heat/Rut Cycles: A recommended reading for alphas and omegas who have reached their majority
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There's no need to feel overwhelmed when your cycle comes! It's a natural part of life, and we here at (redacted) Hospital believe that the more prepared you are, the smoother your cycle will go. So, here are the most important things you need to know about your cycle, grouped by hours.
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Hour 1 to 3
You feel fine, except you're sweating more than usual. You know that feeling when it's humid? You feel like that, except it's worse, because nothing you do alleviates the feeling of stickiness.
Do not ignore or power through this stage when you start to feel the symptoms! Immediately call your partner if you have one, or a heat/rut agency if you don't, as soon as possible.
Hour 4 to 6
You're still sweating, but now you also feel confused and forgetful. During this time, your body's temperature also increases, and you may even experience having hallucinations.
Again, it is very important that you secure for yourself a partner as soon as possible. So if you haven't done so already, do it now.
Hour 7 to 9 (with partner)
Your heat/rut will proceed as normal, depending on how long your cycle lasts.
A regular heat cycle for omegas has a duration of 3 days, and it occurs 4 to 6 times a year. A regular rut cycle for alphas has a duration of 1 week, and it occurs 2 to 3 times a year.
There are alphas and omegas who have irregular cycles. If you're one of them, please be especially vigilant and either always have a heat/rut partner ready, or have the number of a heat/rut agency on speed dial.
If you have not had a single cycle for a year or more, please consult your doctor that specializes in secondary gender cycles and schedule a general check-up.
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Hour 7 to 9 (without a partner)
During this stage, you will find it difficult to speak coherently. You will also forget how most things work and what they're called.
You will feel hostile towards people with the same secondary gender as yourself, even if they're your family or friends!
You will also feel extreme affection for people with a different secondary gender than yourself, so for everyone's sake, it would be best to remove yourself from a public setting, return home, and isolate.
Without a partner to help you, you will feel an increased, almost frenzied need to mate, and you would have difficulty regaining a normal body temperature on your own.
Should a heat/rut partner arrive during this time, extra mating sessions (that preferably ends with one of you knotting the other) must be done in order to help you regain your verbal communication skills.
The duration of your current heat/rut cycle will see a 50-100% increase as well. For example, if you are an alpha with a regular 7 day cycle, then expect this cycle to last 11 to 14 days.
Hour 10 to 12 (without a partner)
You will have increased animal-like behaviors, as your body starts to overheat. You will have also totally forgotten how to speak. (There are cases where alphas and omegas retained enough coherency to speak 1 or 2 syllable sentences, but they are considered very rare.)
Should you reach this stage, you must be isolated so you will not hurt others. You will be very hostile to people with the same secondary gender as yourself, highly possessive of people with a different secondary gender than yourself, and irrational and violent if you think you're being forced to separate from who you think is your mate.
Healing from this stage can take months, and will require medical professionals and extended hospitalization.
One important note to make is that heat/rut agencies do not accept cases that have reached Hour 10. For the sake of their employees' safety, it is best to just call nearby hospitals that specialize in illnesses specific to certain secondary genders.
(redacted) Hospital is one such place, and we pride ourselves with the quality of our care, and the dedication and professionalism of our staff.
Hour 13 upwards (without a partner)
Your body has overworked itself, and as a result, you will either have lost most of your mental faculties, or died from overheating.
For people who have reached this stage and lived, long term (and sometimes even life-long) care is needed. There is only a very small percentage of people who recover from this stage, but for the sake of your loved ones, we will do our best to care for them, so they may one day recover and be able to enjoy life once more.
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About Us
(redacted) Hospital provides qualified medical care to people of all secondary genders, and has a wing dedicated to the long term care needed by alpha and omega patients who have unfortunately reached Hour 10 and above without the help of a partner.
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If you have any questions or concerns, contact us using the number listed below. Our friendly and very understanding customer service representatives will help you as best they can, and will also recommend nearby heat/rut agencies, should you (or someone you care for) have need of it.
(redacted)
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call-sign-shark · 1 year
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✨Angel in Panic✨
Part 1: Angel in Disguise || Part 2: Angel in Distress  || Moodboard
Summary: It has been eight long, exhausting but beautiful months. Yet, what happens when the baby comes earlier than expected, even though nobody is ready for it? Not even you?  BONUS: of course, Bob is here.
Word count: 1.6k
Tags: Pregnancy, fluff, and a helluva fun
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Jake had never been a heavy sleeper. The slightest sound would make him jump from the bed, heart pounding in anxiety. The slightest seconds spent in paradoxical sleep would turn into excruciating nightmares. Yet, the day you both fell in love he found a way to soothe his parasomnia. He would simply look at your peaceful face, and brush your angelic features with his fingers tips, a tender smile stretching the corners of his mouth.
A faint complaint escaped from your juicy lips as his thumb gently fondled one of your cheeks. Jake never thought he could be something else than a heartbreaker. At one point, he was pretty sure death would reap him during a flight mission before he could build a stable relationship and a family. But you came, and you wrecked all his plans like a boisterous kid kicking a sand castle. Here he was, cuddling with you,  his divine sleepy girlfriend, who was eight months and half pregnant.   He was a lucky man. 
“Aouch!” You suddenly cried, snapped from your sleep by an abrupt painful sensation in your uterus. 
“Hey Eden, are you okay? What happened?” Jake straight up sat on the bed and brought a caring hand on your lower - he knew you often felt sore there because of how heavy was your pregnant belly. His beautiful green eyes rendered a tad darker by twilight passing through the windows’ blinds, shone with worries. Blonde brows furrowed, the pilot gently raised your chin to make you look at him.
“I- I guess I’m okay? I felt a sudden pain in my belly. I guess the baby must have kicked me.” You said after a while. A relieved smile enlightened your face when you looked at him, for no other surge of pain occurred. Feeling better, you let your body fall back on the comfortable mattress and Jake followed. He was leaning over you, lying on his side and leaning on his forearm.
“Looks like he already has his mother’s strong personality.” He teased, his huge and warm hand pressing gently on your belly. The sensation was so pleasant that it felt like it alleviated the weight and pressure your body was experiencing. You rubbed your drowsy eyes, your lids still blurred by the Sandman’s magic sand.
“Or he is already as annoying as his father.” You said, one brow raised and a sharp smile on your face. “I tend to think it’s the second opt-” Words choked in your throat, for Jake’s warm lips collapsed against yours to keep you quiet. You laughed while kissing him before parting your lips to let the pilot’s fury tongue waltz with yours. You have been sleeping together for two years and still, Hangman’s kisses managed to leave you shaking, wanting for more. A shiver ran down your spine, soon followed by a wave of warmth spreading through your body. Now that you were both awake, why not enjoy a steamy love session? Words were not needed; you understood that Jake had the same intent when his free hand slid under your t-shirt -in fact, it was one of his shirts you had stolen from his wardrobe- and ran up your soft body until it reached one of your swollen breasts.
“Come here, you sexy mama.” He cooed, his enamored grin so large that his eyes squinted.
“Aouch!” You cried out for the second time. Jake backed up in one sudden movement.
“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry babe!” He said, surprised. Contrary to all expectations, Jake Seresin was a caring boyfriend. He would stop at the slightest sign of protest, making sure you are okay with everything he does and taking care of your well-being before his own needs. Not that he could not be wild in bed, though, but the after-care was always incredibly soft.
“No, no, it’s my belly again…”  You sighed, bringing a trembling hand to your forehead. “Jake, can you bring me something cold to drink? Got a sudden hot flash.”  Part of the pregnancy ride, you thought. Jake nodded and got up from the bed, the pale moonlight underlining his back muscles and making his slightly sweaty skin shine. He put his gray sweatpants on and opened the room’s door.
“Need something else babe?” He asked, looking at you with his eyebrows frowned. He was worried for you, even though he tried to be rational: you were pregnant, so suffering from a few discomforts was a completely normal thing. You shook your head: all you wanted was a glass of freezing sugary drink with plenty of ice in it to cool down your blazing body. The tall blonde pilot left the room - the noise of his hurried footsteps faded away.
You whimpered, as another surge occurred in your belly. This time, you started to worry. Anxiety creeping in, you sat on the edge of the bed and buried your face in your hands, trying to keep calm. Why did you hurt? You had three weeks of pregnancy left, and never you had felt such weird pain. It was not that excruciating, but it was definitively unpleasant. And more than being unpleasant, you feared for your baby. Oh no, now you regretted asking Jake for a cold drink, all you wanted was to feel him by your side to chase your worries away like he always does when you started panicking. 
“Erm, hello?” A soft and masculine voice made you jumped from the bed. 
“What theeee- Bob! Damn! You want me to have a heart-attack or what?” You said, shaking your head as you recognize the WSO’s pale face. How the hell was he so stealthy? You did not even hear the door’s opening and God knew the door usually creaked.
“Well, I got up from my bed to go grab some snacks and- I don’t- I don’t know why I thought about you and the baby, you know?” The tall man, slightly stuttering, awkwardly readjusted his glasses on his nose “And I wanted to ask you if you had already packed your hospital bag.” 
“My what?” You said, still confused by his sudden appearance in your bed room. Even though Jake and you brought a flat near the naval base, you liked sleeping in his military bedroom when he was working late. The place was reassuring for you, and so was the jetfighters’ noise outside. Top Gun was your real home- after all, you were still a pilot. A pregnant one, sure, but also a fierce one.
“Your hospital bag. I feel like you should do it now.”
“Listen Bob, I’ll probably pack my stuff tomorrow. You know there’s still three wee-” You could not finish your sentence, for another pain hit your belly. “Oh shit, here we go again.” You winced. This time, it had been more bearable.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, don’t worry. It’s just the baby.” You retorted, waving the topic off.
“Oh my God, you’re gonna give birth now.” Bob said, his eyes widening almost comically behind his glass. You shook your head, laughing quite nervously.
“Don’t be stupid. Lemme tell you something: if what I have are contractions, well that’s not that bad. I barely felt- AOUCHHHHH!” You could not finish your sentence, for this time you felt like someone had just punched you right in the guts. Even your periods' cramps were usually not that brutal. pressing your arms against your belly, you curled and looked at Bob, despair and fear in your eyes.  Bob was standing still, eyes even wider and face paler than usual.
“You- you-” The WSO could barely speak.
“Oh my god, ohhh my fucking God the baby is coming!” Your voice was cracked- Water breaking.  What the hell was happening? You could not be three weeks earlier, could you? Or maybe Jake was right when he told you Bob was some kind of paranormal creature or wizard, for it all started when the WSO told you about the hospital bag.
“Babe, got your glass of-” Jake froze at the door’s frame, his sight catching Bob standing in the middle of the room staring at you as if he had just seen a ghost, while you were panicking on the bed. One quick glance was enough for him to understand the whole situation: the pool at your feet, the sudden pain in your belly… All became clear. At such a revelation, Jake’s hand released the glass and it dropped on the floor, breaking into big fragments.
“OH MY GOD JAKE SERESIN DO SOMETHING!” You yelled, panicking.
“BOB DO SOMETHING!” He yelled too, turning towards Bob.
“ME??? YOU are the father Bagman!” 
You facepalmed, unable to believe the utterly stupid conversation your boyfriend and Bob were having right in front of you while you were about to give birth. Another cry escaped from your mouth, snapping Jake back to reality.
“Alright, alright!” He said to himself, shaking his head. Without a single hesitation anymore, he rushed towards you and carried you bride-style, “I’m going to bring you to the hospital! Be strong babe, Do you think you can do that? Be strong just for a little while and I swear everything’s gonna be fine.” 
“I’m- I’m going to pack her hospital bag quickly while you bring her in the car.” Bob suddenly woke up from his lethargy, already running to your wardrobe. You sighed, slightly relieved as the two men finally took care of you. Your head fell against Jake’s muscular chest. He was about to leave the room with you in his arms when you told him to stop.
“What?” He asked, worried. You turned your head to look at Bob.
“Thank you Bobby. Thank you.” 
Well, that was going to be a hell of a night … 
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1 prompt used from @marvelhead17’s pregnancy prompts
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megamanrecut · 6 months
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Okay, so taking awhile (again) on the next chapter, so here's another part of 'Become the Night 2'
Become the Night 2 Teaser, 2/? (part 1 here, or Ao3)
The air raider droned monotonously as they flew West. For awhile, Turner was quiet as he sat straight-backed in the passenger seat, staring imperiously into the horizon. Proto studied him curiously out of the corner of his eye.
Turner was not quite like Elec Man—certainly, the resemblance was there—they had practically identical faces and eyes. Yet while Elec Man could produce a glare as cold as a serial killer twisting a knife between your ribs while watching the life fade from your eyes, Turner’s similarly icy, penetrating glare only held the menace of one who might hold a knife up to a throat, but go no further. 
“We can’t tell anyone about this,” Turner said finally with the curt formality of an executive ordering about an intern.
“Don’t worry, I sneak off all the time!” replied Proto, waving a hand airily. “No one will think twice about it. But I gotta ask…how come you came to me for help? Why didn’t didn’t you go to Pharaoh Man instead?”
There was a small pause. Turner twisted in his seat to look blankly at Proto. “Who?”
“Geese, kid, how secret was this mission you and Elec Man were on? Don’t you know your other allies in the Syndicate?”
Turner stared at Proto for a moment, then shook his head. “Only our mutual acquaintance Mr. Smith, and stop calling me diminutives. I am Mr. Turner to you.”
“Can you fight?”
Turner angled his chin hastily and gave Proto a superior look.  “No, it is not my responsibility to ‘fight,’ that’s the job of lowly combat robots like you.”
“…Care to run that by me again, junior?”
With a small jerk, Turner added, “Please.”
Smiling, Proto looked out the window. They were flying over Indiana, green fields of corn stretching below them in a checkered grid. Despite all the blatant, uncalled for rudeness, he was enjoying Turner’s company a lot. Elec Man had taught his little brother well in acting the part of Syndicate, and his little brother was a good student—but Proto had a feeling underneath this robot was quite different from Elec Man or Syndicate altogether.
“…So ballet?” he queried, recalling something Elec Man had said about the mission in California.
Turner held himself up proudly (again a bit like a peacock fanning its feathers) “Yes. My alias is Todd Turner, perhaps you’ve heard of me.”
“…I’m afraid not?”
The feathers drooped. “Oh. Well, I’m the best ballet dancer in the world.”
“…Okay…?”
Picking up on Proto’s tone, Turner drew himself up indigently. “I like it a lot and if you’re going to make fun—“
“I wasn’t, I wasn’t!” said Proto hastily, though he felt his own eyebrows raising more than he intended. So then, Turner was a ballet dancer? That explained the prince-like suit!
As Turner continued to look offended, his pale eyes glaring superiorly ahead, Proto decided to change the subject back to the matter at hand.
“So…how long has Elec Man been missing?”
“I never said Mr. Smith went missing,” Turner replied stiffly.
“…No offense kid, but you are a bad liar (which according to my little brother is actually a good thing!). I could tell something was wrong the moment I first saw you.”
“No you couldn’t—how?”
“Well, for example, I saw you casing our house yesterday, while Rock and I were out walking his robo-dog. You thought you were hidden. I would have trashed you, but I noticed your eyes, which are just like your older brother’s, and decided to wait.”
At this, Turner’s pale eyes darted over to Proto. The high-and-mighty act he had been putting on slipped. He looked small, and scared.
“But listen, you don’t have to worry—“ Proto put in hastily, then added with a laugh, “I’m not going to hurt you, you know—I’m Break Man!”
…This didn’t quite alleviate Turner’s apprehension as anticipated. “…Who?” He sounded just as bewildered by this name as he had at Pharaoh Man’s.
“Break Man!” Proto repeated, confused. “The red bomber!”
“Never heard of you.”
“Well, I’m kinda like a superhero in New York City.”
This was met with awkward silence. Turner stared at Proto, scrutinizing him like a complicated jigsaw puzzle. He didn’t seem to know what to make of this information. They flew through a few puffy clouds, which briefly blanked the air raider’s convex windows in white.
“And you are…living like a human?” Turner sounded doubtful, as though asking if pigs could fly.
“Yeah, I guess,” replied Proto, feeling slightly defensive. “…Something funny about that?”
Turner quickly looked away from Proto back out the window. “No, not at all. …Though, you’re nothing at all like I pictured.”
“What did you picture?”
Turner’s brows drew together. He still looked nervous. “They call Cypher the 'Devil of the Underground'—that Cypher could take down an army of scrappers faster than fire in a paper warehouse, that he leaves no enemy alive,” he whispered.
“Stop! You’re making me blush,” laughed Proto, pleased. “I’m not half as scary as your brother.”
“Yeah, you’re not like that at all,” agreed Turner. “Really you’re just a dork from the suburbs.”
…Proto’s self-pleased feeling crashed.
“You don’t even dress well,” Turner added, almost accusingly, eying the old T-shirt and baggy jeans Proto was wearing beneath his bomber jacket.
“Well, this is just my lab clothes—shut up,” Proto muttered, fully aware he was wearing something that leaned more on the ‘comfort’ scale than the ‘cool’ scale, an unfortunate fashion trend that had snuck up on him when he had moved back to Dr. Light’s laboratory. Stuck up little brat, he thought, then smiled. He supposed Turner’s statement was a product of Elec Man’s influence—if anything, he should be annoyed at Elec Man.
“So…what did Elec Man tell you about me?” Proto asked casually as he checked the flight instruments and adjusted the altitude slightly.
“Not much.”
“…Oh.”
Proto’s shoulder’s slumped a little. He himself still sometimes thought of Elec Man—usually when he was busting amateurish heist that Elec Man would have found funny. He remembered how they used to challenge each other by doing something reckless. Instead, Proto was now making sure Roll didn’t do the same reckless shit he used to do while fighting Dr. Wily. Of course, it made sense that Elec Man had put all of that behind himself; Elec Man had always tried to act so mature...
Turner was eyeing Proto in a strange, almost jealous way, then clarified with significance, “Mr. Smith complains about everyone—the delivery men being late, the seamstresses mishandling my costumes, the director slacking off, when someone in the audience coughs too much, if one of the violins in the orchestra is off-key—but not you.”
Proto perked up again. “Really?”
Turner had gone back to watching Proto with a guarded expression. “I can trust you, right?”
“Yes, though you obviously don’t. You’re that desperate, huh junior?”
Turner sniffed. “Well…Mr. Smith trusted you.”
“Yeah. I mean, I was programmed to obey the Syndicate for most of the time we knew each other, but I think he did even outside of that.” Proto checked the flight course—an hour until they reached Los Angeles. “Alright, now that we have that settled, I’ll ask you again…how long has Elec Man been missing?”
At first, Proto thought Turner would continue to be aggravatingly stubborn, but Turner responded in the smallest of voices, “…Three days.”
Three days. Shit. “Kid, you better tell me everything. I got a real bad feeling about this. Your secrets are safe with me, honest—just tell me.”
For a moment, Turner continued to waver, then finally told Proto about his mission at the ballet—about having a target, an unknown person of whom he had been tasked to assassinate on a certain night. Then, reluctantly, he explained that he had told Elec Man that he couldn’t do it, and that Turner’s mission had been called off. 
“…Elec Man said our creator said I didn’t have to do it anymore, and I could just perform as usual, which is what I did,” Turner continued somberly. His eyes had been on his knees the entire time. “But then, that night…Elec Man wasn’t backstage like he usually is. He wasn’t at our apartment either. He wasn’t anywhere.”
Proto had been frowning all throughout Turner’s story. “This person you were targeting…were they dangerous?”
“I dunno.” Turner looked helplessly down at his hands, which had been balling up the fabric of his suit’s pant legs in a way Elec Man most certainly would not have approved of. “I think…I think something definitely went wrong. Elec Man wouldn’t just leave like that. If I had just done my part of the plan, then Elec Man would still be around, he—“
“Whatever happened wasn’t your fault,” Proto told Turner sternly. “I’m sure Elec Man would say the same if he were here.”
For the first time, Turner’s perfect posture crumpled. He sat slumped in the passenger chair, his eyes downcast on the creases he had just made in his suit’s pant legs.
“Hey, you did right thing coming to me for help!” Proto reassured him quickly. “We’ll find your brother, don’t worry.”
Turner was silent for awhile. Proto wasn’t sure if he’d speak again, but finally— “I don’t know what you mean by calling Elec Man my ‘brother.’ He’s just my prototype.”
“Does he care for you? And you him?”
“…Yes?”
“Well then, junior, he’s your brother.”
Turner mulled this over. Proto could see a flicker of excited revelation cross his face, like a momentary sunbeam. Again, Turner’s behavior thoroughly reminded Proto of Rock. Rock could be obnoxiously lawful like this, especially when he was enforcing Dr. Light’s rules with a dog-like level of obedience far beyond what even Dr. Light considered necessary. From then on, Proto decided to make it his mission to get Turner to laugh.
But first things first. “We’re almost to L.A.,” Proto announced. “Let’s check this apartment of yours out first, okay? Perhaps we can get a clue to where Elec Man is.” 
Continued in Part 3
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darchildre · 1 month
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Gentlemen and Players
(Got distracted and so didn't get to part 1 before part 2 arrived, so I am posting about both parts at once.)
Hey everybody, get excited - it's cricket time! Everything I know about cricket, I learned from E W Hornung and Dorothy Sayers. Here is the sum total of my cricket knowledge: Raffles and Lord Peter are Good At It. That's it; that's all I've got.
Thing 1:
"Cricket," said Raffles, "like everything else, is good enough sport until you discover a better. As a source of excitement it isn't in it with other things you wot of, Bunny, and the involuntary comparison becomes a bore. What's the satisfaction of taking a man's wicket when you want his spoons?
The line about the spoons is so funny to me. I realize that fancy flatware is worth stealing and fencing or whatever but it's still so funny.
Being a gentleman thief who steals jewelry: daring, classy, dare I say, 'sexy'.
Being a gentleman thief who steals spoons: just the silliest thing.
Also very funny is Raffles pouting in his terrible straw hat about the cricket not going his way not five paragraphs after saying he doesn't care at all about it. Thank god someone properly illustrated this ridiculous moment.
Thing 2: "A young gentleman of the exquisite type," huh, Bunny? Bunny my Bunny, no matter how hard you try, you are not good at pretending to be straight.
Thing 3: Oh, poor Bunny, who is now more worried about being humiliated on the cricket field than he is about committing a crime. Let's be real - I too would much rather rob someone than be watched while miserably (and inevitably) failing at a sporting event. Bunny's a better man than I, because I would probably have faked a dire illness or an overseas trip or something to get out of playing sports in front of people, no matter how in love with Raffles I was.
Thing 4: Raffles' weird moral/ethical code is so fascinating. It would be the height of rudeness to rob one's host. But if you're invited somewhere solely because you're good at cricket, then you're practically being treated as an employee which a) is an insult and b) makes you not really a guest. And therefore it's not only acceptable (if still a bit tacky) but almost compulsory to rob said host, as revenge for the insult he's given you.
Thing 5: Aww, Bunny has decided this time not to get cranky that Raffles isn't telling him things, after Raffles rescued him last time! Very cute - let's see how long that resolution lasts.
Also extremely cute is Raffles' little training regimen of fishing and impromptu games of catch. One hopes they alleviate Bunny's anxiety about sports at least a little.
Thing 6:
...we found an enormous house-party assembled, including more persons of pomp, majesty, and dominion than I had ever encountered in one room before. I confess I felt overpowered. Our errand and my own presences combined to rob me of an address upon which I have sometimes plumed myself...
Because we only ever see Bunny with Raffles and therefore almost always at some point in the commission of a crime, we always see Bunny rattled and anxious, rather than in his element. It's interesting to imagine Bunny at his ease, who is apparently charming, personable and fun at parties. Probably, were he not worried about the police, he and Miss Melhuish might have ended up having a lot of fun gossiping about everyone else at the party. Miss Melhuish is clearly having a lot of fun imagining burglars with him and thinking about whose jewelry she would steal if she had the chance.
Also, the hilarious fear-inspired arrogance of thinking that he and Raffles are "two well-known London thieves" the presence of whom the police might have been alerted to! You have pulled at most three* whole jobs together, Bunny, and haven't run into the police on any of them. You are, as yet, the opposite of "well-known thieves". Literally no one knows about you.
Thing 7: Raffles taking his shoes off so that he can pace properly without bothering other people in the house and worrying (if only a little) if smoking inside is allowed is very cute. I love how excited he gets at the idea of both observing some 'professional' criminals and also beating both them and the police.
Also very cute is Bunny replying to his "My dear Bunny" with his own "My dear A.J.", the very first time we've seen Bunny call him that.
Thing 8:
I had still enough of the honest man in me to welcome the postponement of our actual felonies, to dread their performance, to deplore their necessity: which is merely another way of stating the too patent fact that I was an incomparably weaker man than Raffles, while every whit as wicked. I had, however, one rather strong point. I possessed the gift of dismissing unpleasant considerations, not intimately connected with the passing moment, entirely from my mind. Through the exercise of this faculty I had lately been living my frivolous life in town with as much ignoble enjoyment as I had derived from it the year before; and similarly, here at Milchester, in the long-dreaded cricket-week, I had after all a quite excellent time.
A) The idea that it would be a better and almost more noble thing to actually fully commit to being a criminal rather than the wishy-washy state that Bunny currently finds himself in is going to come up more prominently in later stories, but it's interesting that Bunny is already thinking about it, at least a little.
B) Except that we are talking about Bunny 'my greatest strength is not thinking about stuff I find unpleasant until I absolutely have to' Manders, so no conclusions will be reached at this time.
Thing 9: Awww, Bunny actually does all right at cricket! Good for him. I like that he and Miss Melhuish are continuing to be house-party friends as well and that she "said pretty things to [him]" about the cricket. (Sorry, miss, he's very cute but also very taken.)
Thing 10: Awww part 2, Bunny hearing Mackenzie grabbing someone in the hallway in the middle of the night, clearly thinking it's Raffles who's been caught, and flinging the door open to valiantly rush to the rescue! I mean, it isn't Raffles needing rescuing at all, but by god, he tried. Don't worry, Bunny - someday you will actually manage to heroically come to Raffles' rescue, I promise.
And also we get our first example of Bunny being surprisingly effective at unarmed melee combat but only when he's startled/panicking.
Thing 11: And then, our first properly happy ending, where everyone gets what they wanted: Bunny gets to feel a little heroic and like he's done something good, and Raffles gets to feel clever and to walk off with the best of the shiny things, and they both presumably get enough money to continue not having real jobs. Applause all round!
Thing 12: Raffles did not in any way need Bunny for this job. He does nothing to facilitate the robbery and any help he provides in distracting or hindering the professional criminals is purely coincidental and could have been expected of any of the other members of the house party. Bunny is not useful and it is, in fact, more work to get him to the house: Raffles has to lie to his host about Bunny's cricket skills and then scurry off to clandestinely play catch with him to get him even close to faking it.
Raffles just prefers having Bunny around, is the thing. If there's a chance of something fun/exciting happening, Bunny should be around for it. And if the party turns out to be boring and there's no opportunity for crime, at least Bunny will be there to hang out with.
It's easier to tell that Bunny is smitten, because he tells us all the time, but Raffles is totally head over heels for his rabbit as well. He's just slightly subtler about it because he's not the narrator.
Both Raffles movies from the 1930s are based loosely on this story (and its sequel, "The Return Match"). I cannot in fairness recommend either of them as good adaptations - they are both so straight that they feel they have to give Raffles a girlfriend - but the 1930 version is at least kinda fun, and Bunny gets to tackle a dude in his pajamas.** The 1939 version is a remake starring David Niven and Olivia de Havilland and I love both of them but it has been hit super hard by the Hays Code - barely has a Bunny at all, and Raffles has to turn himself in at the end, because the Code didn't allow people to be shown profiting from a crime. It's a bit depressing, really.
They're not terrible movies and are a bit worth seeing as curiosities if nothing else, but maybe just watch the 1970s tv show instead.
*Depending on where you think "Out of Paradise" fits in the chronology.
**How the dude got into Bunny's pajamas, I'll never know. /Groucho Marx impression
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llycaons · 7 months
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also reminds me of the olden cql days where there'd be popular blogs joking about jc and lwj needing to meet in a parking lot and just punch each other. it's a fun image and probably would be very cathartic to jc but it rests on the assumptions that 1. jc and lwj solve their interpersonal issues in the same ways, which is physical violence 2. their issues with each other would be alleviated, and 3. they're important enough to each other to warrant that kind of catharsis.
all of which I think indicate misunderstandings of the respective roles their characters play in the story, as well as the personalities involved. like jc who holds grudges for decades even after traumatizing the object of his bitterness would not just be satisfied by getting a few hits in. and its a very immature way to handle things too...
also as an adult lwj is not someone who uses physical violence to manage or express his feelings. lwj can be petty but thats going way farther. and lwj wouldnt even care enough about jc to engage in that. and if he did he would win. canonically hes strong as shit and has fended off jc before even when his main focus has always been wwx. like he doesn't care about getting in a good punch or whatever. he would simply not do that I'm afraid. he would just leave
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kazecoping · 7 months
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for admin oliver: 1. what books does gilbert actually like, since i rmr reading that serge tries to get him books but he can be kind of picky with them? 2. can you go more into detail about gilbert's addiction and the reocvery process for that? also which part of recovery/withdrawal/etc is he currently at 3. this might need a tw idk but can you also delve more into gilbert's current issues with eating and the psychology around that? how has the accident impacted them? 4. since his thoughts around auguste start to change in this au and he realizes how bad auguste really was, how does that impact his thoughts on other characters from bonnard to rosemarine even?
claps hands! that's a lot, i have been successfully entertained ... thanks for asking, i shall now answer in a way that hopefully satisfies you!
as always with these long asks, the answer is below the cut! warning for drugs and eating disorder talk, i'd try to be as subtle as humanly possible but ... it's kazeki, so. yeah.
I. gilbert's reading preferences
it's mentioned during his backstory chapters (so around volume 4-5) that he took a liking to erotic novels when he was little, and judging by that scene in volume 11 where he recites something along those lines i'd say that preference hasn't faltered.
so, he enjoys erotic novels, pretty obvious and a canon fact.
but i think he'd also like books on animals, since he doesn't have one at the moment the closest thing he has is a book.
we never talked about the kinds of books serge got him (they were scattered around the room, anyway) but they didn't get much attention from gilbert. he reads them, sure! but he doesn't particularly care for the stories or their contents ...
he'd like very dramatic books, too ...
NULL'S EDIT: Serge definitely did not bring him erotic novels., even if that sort of thing could actually have helped him heal his autonomy or sexuality or familiarity or what not he would Not have done that ghsdhf. But, he definitely would bring him stories, dramas, the 25 cent romance prints (there might be some dicey stuff in those, he is not proofreading them) at a certain point in the story they did find a bible and had a laugh about that
II. addiction, recovery, withdrawals ...
he used the initial withdrawals as a way to inflict pain in himself (so, self-harm)
opioid withdrawals are physically painful, they have a variety of symptoms such as nausea, goosebumps, sensitivity to light, hypertension and, in his case, he had hallucinations at the start (not 100% sure if this last symptom is medically accurate, though!)
anyway, he wasn't having a fun time. it was awful.
he stopped taking the drugs despite having them at hand (as null mentioned)
thankfully, it seems that opioids stay in the system for a few days (not entirely sure, since we don't exactly know what drugs gilbert was taking ... hence why i'm talking about opioids in general) so that's good, but he was jumpy and miserable for a bit longer since he was really, really dependant on them + his body is already a little fucked up and very weak, it probably took longer ... paris messed him up.
but, right now, he doesn't crave them. the little bottle they had is hiding somewhere in a box and gilbert has forgotten about its existence by now. though, he wishes he could go back to them, since that at least helped him "go away" for a moment. i guess he's going to go back to his old habit of daydreaming to make time go by faster.
Null's Edit: It's common for cases of extreme disassociation to alleviate some feelings of addiction. At a certain point, when he decided he needed to go cold turkey off everything, Serge basically took the bottle they'd spent their lifesavings on and hid it. Gilbert does not know where it is. No Opium for Gilbert.
III. disordered eating and "coping" with his current situation
he's been in and off in regards of that, to be honest. sometimes he's hungry, and sometimes he goes so long without eating ... a day or two at most.
he has always struggled with food, that's not a new thing for gilbert (or serge as an spectator, for that matter)
he relapsed (more like, he got worse than he already was) shortly after the accident, yet he kinda had to start eating more so his wounds would heal (bodies need calories and nutrients to do so, and while it wasn't nearly enough, he managed to do it)
he's not truly recovered, he may never be without the aid of a specialist (and they are expensive! he's got a whole lot of issues to take care of, sadly.) but he's hanging in there ...
he doesn't really have a reason to starve himself now, serge is tending to him most of the time already after all! and his reasoning of "maybe if he (auguste) is close to lose me he will appreciate me more" doesn't apply here for the most part, but he's gotten used to eat only when his body can't handle its hunger, or when he's in the right mood.
he's eating, sure, but he doesn't eat enough for someone his age and height.
also, keep in mind that he's pretty depressed, he doesn't feel the need to eat because his appetite has been affected by everything (stress, sadness, just the way he is)
it's mainly out of habit than him actively starving himself, though that also plays a part in what he does ... he's unwell.
the accident only made things worse, though he doesn't really care about weight gain (even if it's not preferred) or beauty, it's partially a need for control (everything is out of his hands and it feels WRONG) and partially because he's sad.
he's so, so sad.
IV. more thoughts about auguste and bonnard (and rosemarine)
so, auguste is out of the equation.
he started to realize that all the stuff that happened to him wasn't normal at some point. he already knew it was wrong (hell, serge told him that a billion times! of course he had to realize at some point) but he was in denial for some more time.
he feels gross, in a way. gilbert already felt weird over the whole thing because he never genuinely liked sex, he was just taught to crave the pain that came with it, he was taught that intimacy was supposed to be painful, and bloody, and disgusting ... and that he didn't have much of a saying in it, anyway.
he was a child, it obviously didn't click until now (or maybe it did, he just chose to ignore it.)
so, i went over his thoughts on auguste in a past ask but, i didn't mention that he (knowing that auguste is his dad) really feels in a different way towards him. sure, he's angry and grossed out, but he's also very affected. not only did he live in a lie for so long, but the person he needed the most (his dad) is the one who did most of the damage.
he hates him, but he can't help but imagine how things could've been if only auguste wasn't the way he is.
bonnard doesn't occupy most of his thoughts, but he doesn't particularly like him. he's not important enough to gilbert, even if he still has nightmares of the day he first touched him, of the blood, the pain, the fact that he entered survival mode upon waking up ...
yeah, no. he doesn't like bonnard, he hopes to never see him again.
rosemarine is a complicated subject, i have yet to reach the paris volume so i'm not sure if his relationship with gilbert improved in some way (i think it sort of did? he was the one who helped him and serge leave, right?) but i know for a fact that he resents him for not doing anything to protect him when he was at laconblade.
sure, auguste had threatened him (gilbert doesn't know that, though, in gilbert's eyes rose didn't do anything because he simply didn't feel like it), but rose didn't do anything about it for around 5-6 years. that makes him an accomplice.
rosemarine allowed that to happen and engaged in the abuse (physical abuse, at least) probably more than once, so ... yeah, he doesn't hate rosemarine, but he doesn't know how he can sleep at night knowing that.
sorry if i was unclear in any points! let me know if that's the case, pretty please . . . i probably spaced out at some point 🌀
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Text
Tw: mentions of disordered eating and eating disorders
Intro ~
Name: AJ
Age: 16
Likes: books, david bowie, the cure, cats, english, social sciences
Dislikes: politics, math, science, most modern pop, most dogs
Fun facts:
-I'm chronically ill, disabled, and autistic
-I have very bad vision in one eye, and mildly bad vision in the other
-I was born with my intestines outside of my body, hence the chronic illness and disability mentioned above
I wanted to post a 30 day thinspo challenge, however I forget about these kind of things very quickly. Instead I wrote all the answers today, and it might defeat the purpose, but it's really just a way to share about myself so I dont particularly care.
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1: 170cm, 53kg (about 117lbs)
2: 170cm, or 5'7. Not really, I wish I were taller, especially because my dad is 6'4
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3: This is one of my favorites because I enjoy how the person looks delicate but masculine at the same time. I have a whole folder of downloads that I saved for instances when I don't have wifi or cell service
4: my bigest fear about losing is my parents noiceing and making me stop.
5: Im doing it for me. I don't have dysmorphia, but rather dysphoria surrpunding my perceived femeninity and I know losing would alleviate most
6: I do binge. I have the self control of an over zealous toddler, and I used to be able to eat upwards of 3000 calories and still lose weight.
7: my parents don't know, and they'd put a stop to it if they did know. I'm already thin, so... they'd freak out
8: I boulder 1-3 times a week, lift weights, etc, not much cardio because I'm chronically ill already
9: People didn't ever make negative comments about my weight. It was always praising me for my thinness when I was just incredibly ill & suffering from internal bleeding
10: I haven't really given up anything.
11: I don't have a favorite blog, but my favorite tags are #thinspiration and #malespo because the former always has really good bonespo and sickspo (better than the posts under those tags) and the ladder because it feels more realistic
12: I try to eat as many vegetables as I can get, and I'm vegetarian-trying-to-be-vegan, so I don't get much protein. Whenever I binge it's all carbs.
13: I'm losing in an unhealthy way, mostly because of the fact that I don't 'need' to lose weight, but also because I purge often
14: My ugw is about 40kg (88lbs). I want to reach it by the end of august/beginning of spetember. I only have to lose 13kg, which sounds like a small number, but it's quite a bit in practice. Approx 30lbs.
15: I am Vegetarian, but I'd like to be vegan. However, I have several health conditions that require me to eat excess fats, and I prefer to do that in the form of dairy rather than non-animal fats.
16: When I was 12, my health teacher had us do a project on eating disorders. I had recently gone from 137cm and 23kg to 153cm and 36kg, and I was perpetually bloated due to my medical condition. After the project, I mysteriously went up to 45kg in 2 weeks, and that is when I decided to lose weight.
17: I am hesitant to call it an eating disorder, but I definitely engage in severely disordered eating habits.
18: Potatoes are my weakness. I've always loved potatoes of any kind, and they have been my downfall.
19: I think 2 or three weeks ago, when I got Culver's for myself and my family after bouldering and weight-lifting.
20: I don't have a favorite ana-specific diet, as counting calories sends me into spirals of bingeing, however I try to eat as low-carb and low-sugar as possible, which I can do freely because it is beneficial to my medical condition.
21: I wear a 66-71cm waistband, and a small/medium in most shirts. I typically wear button downs and courdoroy slacks though.
22: My lowest weight after my disordered eating started was about 40kg I beleive. Some of my weight gain has been due to puberty and height increase, but my medical issues have also gotten better, making it easier for me to gain weight with my past eating habits.
23: The media didn't play a role in my urge to lose weight. I only got a phone when I was 14, and any social media was I was 15, but my goal of weight loss began before that. I also didn't watch much television or movies.
24: I feel the terms pro-ana and pro-mia typically refer to the journey and the inter-community support, rather than actually advocating for people to develop the disorder.
25: I purge often. The first time I tried, I tried all of the tricks in the book other than sticking my fingers down my throat. It turns out I have a very low gag reflex, and I was unsuccessful. A while later, I used my fingers and was successful. Now I am less so, because my gag reflex is further developed. I can touch the valve that closes your throat without gagging.
26: The thing that excites me most about reaching my ugw is that I will no longer feel like shit when I eat, or sit, or stand, or do anything at all.
27: How do I deal with being around food? I don't. I just try to avoid it as much as possible because, again, I have the self control of an overzealous toddler.
28: Yes, I would love a gap between my legs. I hate the feeling of my thighs touching, not just because of the body issues, but because I have severe sensory issues
29: I don't have a definition of beauty. I think the whole point is that beauty is subjective and differs from person to person. What I find beautiful for myself may not be what I find beautiful in others, and what I find beautiful in others differs from person to person
30: my stats are the same, because I did this all in one day instead of eating lunch (or using my lunch break to do classwork)
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imustbenuts · 2 years
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Kiran is (functionally) a Bodhisattva/Deva and Askr is gambling on them (A wild almost baseless theory)
I'm out of my damn mind and I've decided to make you guys suffer through my insane thoughts.
To get this out of the way, a Bodhisattva is roughly translating, ‘the enlightened one’ in Buddhism, one who has grasped the truths of the world and are able to break away from the cycle of suffering and ascend into an actual Buddha. But choose not to, instead remain on the current plane of existence to help alleviate others' suffering in hopes that others may attain the truths and do the same. (This is NOT a perfect, total summary but I hope its enough to understand what a Bodhisattva, functionally, is.)
So for years I've been holding onto this idea that Kiran is a supernatural being in the context of the world of FEH. I mean, if they’re from our world and played the series, I reasoned some things:
Our world relatively speaking is one of incredible comfort, even more so than what monarchies of the medieval eras can achieve at their height. Specifically, Kiran is akin to a Deva of the variety of deities in Buddhism before they were pulled into FEH. Here's the wikipedia link explaining the nuance of what a Deva is. The takeaway: They live longer, are able to die, but their lives are one of pleasures and comfort. (Remember Peony’s words of how the World of Steel is one of comfort?)
They have knowledge of all FE characters, some more invasive than others. Conversely, native zenith folks are completely unknown to them. This makes them a bit supernatural despite being a human being, and makes them aware to the suffering of characters in the FEverse.
They must then know certain repeating tropes that has been occurring in FEverse. Masked dudes being sus, dead parents, blue haired lords, divine dragons subject to mental degradation, etc etc. You get the idea.
As blue haired lords with sisters are typically the main criteria in general for FE lords to be recognized as the protagonist, it is theoretically possible for Kiran to over-attach themself to Alfonse based on point 3 at the point of first contact.
Kiran has some level of perception towards tropes, which is why I think they caught on to  Bruno/Zacharias’ identity in book 1 so easily. And how many of us were thinking, 'Gustav is totally gonna kick it' when he appeared?
If Alfonse can open pathways to other worlds, then one inferred reason why Kiran doesn’t leave is because they realize if they do, Alfonse is completely screwed. (twisting this can also mean: delay to ‘ascension’)
By book 2, the name of Sutr and the prophecy referencing Ragnarok is clear, and the presence of Loki throws in a very high possibility that Ragnarok will happen even without Sutr. Loki is also, across all interpretations, a chaotic basket of fun and does things so long as she has a laugh. Point 6 is reinforced.
I also thought about why the game explicitly refers to Kiran as us, the players playing the game, when they could have taken the Blazing Blade route when they could turn them into a Mark v2.0. Those 7 points i listed are ultimately wild theories of a theoretical Kiran who thinks like me, and so I have to admit it doesn’t hold much weight on its own.
It just has to be an avatar, is what I'm getting at. An avatar functionally more akin to Robin or Byleth, characters with their own personalities and goals while we drive the plot forwards.
Except, then, there are Norse gods. And Norse gods means a lot of self-indulgent deities with Odin/All-father who has the Twilit Runes, ie he has already seen EVERY bit of fate that’s to come. But Kiran wasn't there at the point the runes were made, so far away in our world without magic and so insignificant that it doesn't matter. Probably.
As a direct result of their presence/interference, Askr isn’t at Embla’s mercy by the end of book 1, and Ragnarok doesn't occur as prophesied in book 2 by the hands of Sutr. I think its possible that Fjorm would have perished instead by book 2 originally if not for Kiran’s presence bolstering Alfonse’s fate/desires to defeat Sutr.
So Kiran does have a function in the world of FEH.
So then that leads into who made Breidablik and the prophecy behind them? I thought it could be Askr, Baldr (if they even exist), someone, or even Eitri, but seems like Eitri wasn’t involved in the creation of Breidablik. Baldr remains non-existent at this point, so, I thought, someone who knows of the Twilit Runes wanted to stop it made Breidablik. And maybe Breidablik just looks for whoever understands enough of 1. sticking to the blue haired lord, and 2. Norse mythos, to roll on with the plot of FEH.
But that's all the thoughts I had for years.
Then book 6 starts raising my eyebrow. Ash’s beast form is a cow. A cattle. One of the most sacred creatures in Buddhism/Hinduism. Cows in general are a very rare and unique character design choice so I didn't dwell too much on it. (EDIT: here's a write up expanding on this idea) Since this is ultimately entertainment, so sometimes they do random things in the name of cool. Askr is a divine dragon anyway, right? Lizard and all, I thought.
But then. then. On April fools 2022, Lonely Puppeteer (Spring Remix) drops, complete with a fully rendered MV
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And I see Kiran on a goddamn lotus. Lotus in Buddhism/Hinduism is representative of purity above material attachment and physical desire. It's a big thing there, but ok, still nothing definitive. I'm also reminded of how Kiran technically resisted the lust pollen in book iv. But ultimately it looks fancy and cool, and it's April Fools, so whatever.
(I want to stress also that there are countless depictions of deities and Buddha sitting above the lotus in peaceful meditation. The lotus is some serious symbolism in Buddhism and Hinduism.)
Then Askr's design comes out. He's a DIVINE. BULL. DRAGON. DEITY. I just about fucking lost it.
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Immediately I notice the Third Eye on his forehead.
In many parts of Asia, the Third Eye is said to allow the user to perceive things which are beyond normal perception. Some think it predicts the future, lets the user see ghosts, divine fates, or even see beyond our own material world. Now, I don't know at this point if that third eye, if it is even one, lets Askr do those things, but I'm willing to bet the ability to open gateways to other worlds is in synergy with it at bare minimum. After all, Anankos was able to see the world of Awakening despite being in Fates, so this seems more than plausible.
And if my bullshit is right, the one responsible for Breidablik is likely Askr, who has seen the future and wants to prevent Ragnarok. (EDIT: JOSSED, it looks like. oh well!) So he pulls in a being from a wildly different plane of existence, maybe with said prerequisites of understanding 2 rules, 1. sticking to the blue haired lord, and 2. Norse mythos, all in hopes that the chance of breaking the prophecy of Ragnarok is above 0%.
Thanks for coming to my Ted-talk. Admittedly I've only bounced this idea off 2 people, one who hasn't caught up on FEH and doesn't know too much about Buddhism, and another who has dropped the game. So this idea is unrefined.
TL;DR: Title
I'll go back to writing Fanfic on AO3 now lol. I wrote Hello Hopeful, and this is my AO3 account. I’m losing my fucking mind rn, cheers. If you find my fic interesting, Id be super happy if you could leave a kudos!
PS: Third Eyes also enables the user to see Devas according to that Wikipedia article. Divine Eyes and Third Eye means the same thing in Mandarin, so wtf lol
PPS: Devas are not creator gods either. they are more of a human, mortal deity who can observe the realms ‘below’ theirs, but rarely intervene/offer counsel. There's a belief that we all once had the ability to fly and glow and are Devas ourselves, but lost the ability to do that over time in buddhism
EDIT: This theory is a shallower exploration and mostly made from speculation. I made a better one! For a more in-depth meta analysis feel free to check my pinned. Thanks!
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calamitycascade · 11 months
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Episode Release: Old Machines Part 1
Episode 9 "Old Machines" part 1 has just been released on podcast apps and youtube. I really like this mission, especially its second half (which will be going live on June 28th).
For some general updates:
I've been trying some new audio mixing techniques, I noticed that the intro music doesn't play well when using speakers or in a car so I'm trying to alleviate that. I think it will be most noticeable in pt. 2
2. I'm playing with the idea of always releasing our downtime and vignette episodes at the same time (like we did for the last downtime and vignette episodes). That way you won't have to wait a month between actual mission episodes.
In a perfect world I would be able to do the show weekly, but sadly with our work schedules that's not possible right now.
So...I figure I'll leave it to a poll!
Also, thanks so much for all your great questions about the world. It's so fun to answer them and we've been absolutely in love with your enthusiasm.
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give-soup-please · 11 months
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Oh-ho-ho It's me, May again, plopping myself down in your inbox like I own the place. Honestly I don't mind if you post them or not, it's ultimately up to you - perhaps you decide to post some, and keep others. Regardless, I'll keep bringing them to you like a crow bringing its favorite person shiny treasures. I am mildly interested to know who you think I am - though there's no need to be embarrassed if you were to get it wrong, I'm anonymous because I'm trying (kind of) to hide after all. Now, to actually get to the few things I've collected in my little notepad about what I wanted to talk about. (Yes, I have a notepad that I jot things down into so that I don't flood your inbox.) 1. I'm sure you already know this, you addressed it in your post, but I do feel like it's important to say it as well: It's okay to feel a bit panicked at first when confronted with a problem. I feel like it's only natural to feel that way, anyways. But the main thing is that it's rather impressive that you can take a step back and acknowledge that there are ways to help alleviate the problem even if you aren't able to solve it. This is something that I struggle with personally as well, and to see someone else who does, who also handles it in a beautiful way, is very motivating and reliving. It makes it feel like it isn't the end of the world even if I was panicking originally. You're doing a wonderful job at slowly pushing yourself towards making healthier choices for you, and I wanted to thank you for putting that out there for others to read, it brings inspiration even if you don't have a direction to go with it. I do wish life could have an immediate answer, though. It would be SO much easier... but of course, "It's not fun if it's easy" 2. Pomegranate honey sounds delicious, I love pomegranates, so I can only imagine pomegranate flavored honey would be amazing, and wildly superior to clove honey. 3. There's going to be more??!??!?!?!?!?!?!? I don't think I can put into words the excitement and joy that knowing that is a potential reality brings me. Perhaps you could imagine the excited sounds of a dog, amplified, mixed with various clapping noises and tapping from me stimming. But really, why in the world are you sorry?! Sorry for what? Coming back and gracing the TSP community with something as beautiful as your writing? Poppycock I say! I absolutely adore it, as you know, and honestly it's like thinking you ran out of your favorite thing and then realizing you have more of it. It brings joy! Another note: I've not been in this fandom nearly as long as you have, but I can agree with the "Welp, the Narrator has simply dragged me back into this thing and I will never escape again" cycle. I've enjoyed it, though, and I've met and discovered so so many lovely people (cough, you cough) so maybe that was his plan all along... the sneaky bastard... improving my mental health... [grumble grumble] 4. Fun fact, I was also the anon that submitted that question asking you if you thought the ocean was a soup, and I wholeheartedly agree: Soup needs to be warm. The only thing about gazpacho I like is saying the word like Puss says it in Puss in Boots. Oh, and I figured I would say, my favorite soup: It's this roasted garlic soup I made once, it was quite good. I can't recall what else was in it... other than roasted garlic... but obviously it was a soup.... Anywho, that's all I have for now. As always, please take care of yourself. Don't push yourself for something that isn't going to benefit you, and even if it has a benefit think of yourself in the long run first (is it really going to be worth it). Do something for you, and drink some water today if you haven't... and drink a little more if you have. ~ Your friend, May
hello again, may.
i'll start out small and see if i can start inching towards the truth over time. i believe you are someone i interact with in the discord DMs on a regular basis. that may not be the case, but you remind me of a good friend that i met under interesting circumstances.
i'm glad it helped. the path to better mental health is a hard one, one of the hardest paths to walk. but every small choice we make in the right direction is monumental.
2. yes, pomegranate honey is freaking delicious, but it is also hard to find. most grocery stores don't have it because it's copyrighted and is only made on one 5000 acre farm, according to the presentation i was at yesterday.
3. yes, there will be more. i'm working on a few pieces now. there will likely be a few more chapters of the human experience, and another... bonus story. which will hopefully be short and not another major undertaking dslkfjslkfjs (i realized at some point that the human experience project starts the narrator off as softer than his canon counterpart, and that i never really went into detail into how our relationship was established before he crossed over. nar will be a bit more mean in this one before he starts softening up, and closer to his canon self in terms of... pettiness. i'm aiming for that to be under ten chapters, because i just finished one 50k project and i don't think i can do it again so soon. as for my apologies, well, that's an interesting thing, isn't it? i want to move on from the narrator for complicated reasons that involve how i handle interpersonal relationships, but he keeps calling me back again and again. i'm still not done with him, and he's not letting me go despite my irritation about the whole thing.
interesting kind of soup there.
you take care of yourself too, ok? get uno reverse card(ed)
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arazialotis · 1 year
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Gabriel(a)? - Part 4
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Characters: DeanxReader, Sam, Jack
Word Count: Around 4000
Warnings: Season 14 Spoilers (Does not follow plot exactly, but takes from main ideas), Swearing, Sexual Tension, Promiscuous Situations 
Summary: Team free will seems to be out of answers and hopeless as one of their own falls sick. Yet a micheavous and annoying mystery girl pops up out of nowhere and may be able to offer a solution, if not more.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
This is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors. I appreciate any feedback or suggestions!
---
This had to stop. It was getting out of hand. Your leg bounced uncontrollably. You were supposed to focus on the material before you, but all you could think about was the man across the room. Your fist was pressed against your lips, and you gently bit a knuckle. Dean was in the same boat as you. He looked up to catch you staring, so you averted your eyes back to the book. It went on this way for a better part of an hour and a half. What started as a fun distraction for both of you was now working its way under your skin. And everyone in this room had bigger things to focus on other than a petty fling. Michael.
Even with Jack mostly recovered, though he still had much to learn, it wasn’t time. Michael was not going to be found until he was ready. Everyone knew it, yet they were determined to take the offense, spending hours pouring over potential leads and plans.
You looked back to Dean, who hadn’t taken his eyes off you. Was he thinking the same thing as you? Watching every minute tick by until it was reasonably acceptable to call it a day? Waiting for that moment when you would finally be able to escape reality and enter a world where just the two of you existed.
You cocked your head to the side. No, it had been on his mind, but that was not what he was thinking at this moment. He was analyzing you. Reading you, or at least trying. It was your leg. You forced it to stop bouncing. You went back to the text and took a deep breath. You needed sugar. Skittles. A small pile appeared on the desk beside you, and you dove in. The sweetness instantly alleviated your nerves. You were losing your edge, and if you didn’t keep composed, they’d figure it all out eventually.
Dean cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. This time, the way his eyes drank you in, his thoughts had returned elsewhere. At 3:15, he decided he was finished for the day. This wasn’t like regular employment, where a supervisor would pop out of nowhere to fire him for cutting hours. His chair scraped back, echoing in the silent hall. Your eyes followed him across the room, and just before he exited, he glanced at you, giving the slightest nod as an indication to follow him. You smirked and wondered if you had unintentionally Pavlov’d him into desiring sex anytime you summoned sweets.
Giving him a few minutes head start, you flipped a page and scanned the words. Three others remained; Sam, Maggie, and Ryan. You were relieved Jack was not there. Though you could still get away with what you were about to do under his watch, it would simply require extra effort if he were present. Focusing, you created then projected an image of yourself in the same position you currently were in. Once it became solid and followed your movements, you disappeared. Autopilot would take care of the rest were someone to ask a question or approach you.
You were correct in assuming Dean would be in his room. As soon as he clicked the door locked, you appeared. The need was clear, and the magnetic pull to each other was instantaneous. Both of you pounced.
Clashing together was like two storms meeting; thunder roaring, lightning cracking, and winds howling. The force in which you met had Dean up against the door. Your lips roved over each other, seeking to fill a hunger that was never satisfied. His hands were at your waist, riding up your shirt, desperate to feel your skin. Your lips traveled over his jawline, landing just below his ear. Greedily, your hands were already tugging at his belt. As you found the clasp, you gently scrapped your teeth against his neck.
Breathing heavily, you said, “I’m going to fuck you into the next millennia.”
He took control and pushed you against the adjacent wall, pinning your hands to the concrete. His length strained in the denim, pressing upon you. Grinding, you responded, starving for the friction you had been deprived of all day.
“Is that a promise?” He purred into your ear.
“It’s a guarantee.” Your eyes sparked with anticipation.
His fingers gripped tightly around your wrist but then released, traveling down your arms and then your side, wandering back up under your shirt. With free hands again, you ran them through his hair and pulled him in, kissing him deeply. A soft moan escaped your lips as he pushed you further against the wall.
In one swift movement, his hands found the back of your thighs, and he hoisted you up so that your legs were straddling his waist. Even with the barrier of clothing, how he rubbed into you sent shivers down your spine.
Now that he had you pinned, one arm kept you hoisted, and you may have assisted a bit in keeping yourself suspended. (What was the point of having powers if you weren't going to use them?) With his free hand, he sought a target under your bra. He found the destination, and the fabric pulled away with ease. You huffed a laugh. The devil had unclasped your bra without your knowledge. Dean Winchester was a god-damned force to be reckoned with.
The humor of the moment vanished as he took the stiff peak between his fingers and pressed upward with his thumb. You tilted your head back, and your praise of him sounded to the ceiling.
He buried his face into your chest, biting the collar of your shirt and pulling away so he could sneak a view of what lay beneath. He twisted his fingers. Another moan. He glanced up at you, gauging your reaction. Two could play at this game. Your hand snaked down to where he had you pinned, taking the bulge into your grasp and squeezing gently. Your shirt snapped back as he hissed in response.
"I have this overwhelming feeling," He paused to kiss you intensely. "That you're going to be the death of me." He said as he pulled away. The forest in his eyes deepened as they searched yours. You would have challenged him if he didn't appear so sincere. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Your jaw clenched, and he mirrored the gesture, unsure of your lack of response. He continued to stroke your breast as the two of you stared each other down. A tinge of delightful pain shocked through you as he tightened his grip.
"Enough of the teasing." You nipped at his lip. "Are we going to do this, Winchester?"
Dean was about to shift when pounding at the door startled you both. You were both too stunned to answer. Another knock.
"Dean," Sam called from the other side.
You looked at each other. A wicked grin crossed your face. Dean swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. Whatever devious thoughts were running through your mind, he didn't even want to know.
The lock jiggled, and Sam knocked with the heel of his palm.
"Dean, wake up. I got something." He urgently said.
Dean rolled his eyes and backed away, the moment lost. "Yeah, yeah. I'm coming."
He wiped his hands over his face and through his hair, trying to center himself. A few moments of deep breathing and thinking about baseball made him, at the very least, presentable. Dean cracked the door to find Sam anxiously waiting with his laptop in hand. Having kept yourself suspended for a few extra moments, you realized the moment was over and slid back down, landing on your feet.
Sam instantly noticed something was off about Dean. “Oh, sorry if you're not up...."
Dean cut Sam off before he finished. "No, I'm fine, I'm…."
Dean stopped as you simultaneously responded, unaware only he could hear you.
"Oh, he's up." You leaned over for a better view, second-guessing yourself. "Or he was a second ago."
His head snapped to you, and he pinched his lips together before shooing you like he would a fly. Oh, he was going to pay for that.
"You sure you're okay?" Sam asked, pushing into Dean's room.
Dean looked between the two of you; Sam headed to the desk to set the laptop down, paying you no attention. Dean shot you a deadpan look as he put two and two together.
"Shh." You pressed your fingers to your lips with a wink.
"Dean?" Sam called again.
He waved you away again before answering. "Yeah, yeah. I'm good." Dean moved to sit on the bed adjacent to the desk to get a better look. "What do you got?"
"Do you remember the start of the apocalypse? Our first apocalypse." Sam clarified. Dean widened his eyes at the absurdity of the question. "Of course you do."
"Get to the point, Sam," Dean stated, hoping this conversation would be over soon so he could resume other activities.
He felt the bed dip and turned to see you prowling toward him. His heart thudded inside his chest. He turned back to Sam and gulped.
"We've seen that strange weather patterns can indicate significant angelic activity." Sam angled the screen towards his brother, showing a news story. "Uniontown, Pennsylvania. Five tornadoes within seven days for a state that sees an average of ten total a year, and it's outside of the season."
"Anything else to go on?"
A shiver ran down Dean's spine as your breath kissed his neck. He could feel your lips hovering a mere touch from his skin.
You leaned in closer, whispering in his ear, "Agree to go, so he'll leave us alone. The details will come later."
Your hand reached around and grazed the inner length of his thigh. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and thought long and hard about when the Texas Rangers last had a shot at the world series.
Sam was speaking, and it took all of Dean's energy to focus on his words.
"... Comatose since the accident. Her doctors are saying her recovery is nothing short of a miracle." Sam finished.
Your lips nestled in the crook of his neck, nursing the spot that drove him near feral. The tips of your fingers trailed over his zipper.
"Ahhh.. mmm… mmhmm." Dean altered his moan into something of a sound of understanding.
He grabbed your wrist and pinned it to the bed, struggling to keep his composure. Your free hand stroked his cheek and then over his lips. His mouth parted.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Sam repeated.
"Yeah." He squeaked out. Sam switched tabs to another article, but Dean was ready to call it. "It sounds like…."
You pulled your lips away from Dean, skimming over the article. "Wait, no, this is interesting." You shifted and sat up, getting a better glance.
Dean blinked rapidly. "I mean, there's even more, to go on?"
"Hey." You called from the hallway, knocking on Dean's door before entering. "Everything alright, Sam? You left in quite a hurry."
Dean was seeing double. He looked between your two figures, barely able to wrap his head around what was reality. You planted a peck on his cheek and morphed back into one, the form they both could see.
"Oh hey, Gabriela… or Y/N?" Sam still was confused on how to address you. Other than Dean, everyone else always referred to you as the former.
You did not help the situation and did not offer clarification.
"You find something?" You asked and pointed to the laptop. "Here I've been digging through books all day when Google has never let me down once."
"Yeah, I was just running it by Dean before addressing it with the group, but since you're here, we might have a lead in Pennsylvania. It started with tornadoes…." He started to explain.
"Weather, miracles," Dean interrupted, knowing you had heard it all before. "You were just getting to the good part."
"Right. Two murders." He switched tabs again. This time to a database he shouldn't legally have access to. "Both with their eyes burned out."
"Well, you could have started with that," Dean said, exasperated.
"That's a really good lead." You agreed.
"Too good." Another voice called from the corner. Castiel. "Certainly a trap."
Dean stood up and paced his room. "When did the privacy of a bedroom become nonexistent?"
Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion. "We've all been in this room before without there being concern. Have the terms of our relationship changed?"
"What? That's not…." Dean was too flustered to explain. "You make a good point."
"About our relationship?"
You coughed a laugh.
"No, Cas. About it being a trap." Dean waved his hands.
"I don't see what other choice we have," Sam interjected. "This is the only lead we've had in months. If we have any shot at stopping Michael, we need to make the most of this."
Castiel sighed but nodded his understanding. "Then we have to go in strong."
"With a rogue angel, two nephilim, and a bunker packed to the brim with amateur hunters, I'd say the odds are in our favor," Dean concluded.
“While I appreciate your enthusiasm Dean, this is not the time for false optimism.” Cas retorted.
“It’s just one angel.” You stepped in. Castiel was about to argue, but you stopped his voice from speaking, proofing your point further. “Yes, I’m aware he is the most powerful archangel in existence, and we don’t have a way to kill him yet. But theoretically, we just need to outsmart him. Lay a trap ourselves with holy fire or containment with Enochian sigils.”
“The handcuffs,” Dean suggested to Sam.
“Handcuffs?” You couldn’t stop from blurting out. Dean gave you a second glance as you subconsciously licked your bottom lip. Why had he not spoken of those before?
“It's worth a shot.” Sam agreed. “We should get going and plan the rest on the way. Lessening the chance Michael moves on or realizing we are on our way.”
Sam got up, and Dean was already going for a duffel in his closet.
“Jack and I will meet you there.” You stated. “Good opportunity to hone in those teleportation skills.”
Cas eyed you wearily, and both brothers could sense the tension. It was clear a few people in this room still didn’t trust you.
“Of course, Castiel, you are welcome to join us. I’m sure you can give the kid a few pointers.” You offered.
He accepted the proposition with a nod and vanished to prep Jack.
“I’ll inform the others,” Sam cleared his throat and left the room.
Dean turned around but found you had vanished as well. Dammit. He had hoped to sneak in a quick round while the others were scrambling to leave. Resuming packing, he parted the shirts in his closet and nearly jumped out of his skin as you appeared from within.
“Jesus, Y/N.” He snapped. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
You ignored his rhetorical question. “You’ve been holding out on me, Winchester.”
Dean rolled his eyes. His last name must be the replacement you liked most after the pet name debacle. You raised your hand and let one end of the cuffs fall out of your grasp. You bit your lip, imagining the possibilities.
If Sam or Cas knew you got your hands on those, Dean knew you would both be done for.
“Give me those.” Dean chastised you while taking them forcefully from you.
“Trust me. That was my every intention.”
You closed the gap, snaking your fingers through his hair and pulling him in to find his lips yet again.
“Somehow.” He said between breaths. “I find it hard to believe,” He stopped again as your mouth parted in a moan, allowing him further access. “That these would have any effect over you.”
You smiled against his lips. “These are powerful sigils, Dean. And while they may not render my powers completely useless, they may be enough to even the playing field.”
Finally, you were able to unclasp his belt and began tugging it through the jean’s loops.
“But there is no certainty until we try.” You said before gently biting his lower lip.
He pulled back, searching your eyes for permission. When he found only confidence and no hint of hesitation, he took your wrist.
“Dean,” Sam called from outside the hall. “You ready to go in five?”
Dean was going to say he wouldn’t be ready until tomorrow morning, at the very least, nightfall, but you beat him to it, your voice shaking in a defeated laugh.
“To be continued.” You pulled him in for one last kiss and disappeared.
“God dammit,” Dean swore.
***
The roar of the Impala’s engine rumbled through the entire vehicle as Dean pushed her to her limits. Sam had his eyes closed, drifting in and out of sleep in the early hours of the morning. Dawn was close to approaching as the sky turned shades of periwinkle.
The clock read 4:30 AM when Sam woke with a stretch and yawn.
After a few minutes of coming too, Sam offered, “You wanna switch?”
“Nah, I’m still good.” Dean had been going since 10:30 PM. He lifted his hand off the steering wheel to check the gas tank. “Though baby could use a fill-up, and I wouldn’t say no to a spot of coffee.”
Sam yawned again and nodded his agreement before checking his phone. “You hear from anyone yet?” Dean shook his head no. “Jack, Cas, and Y/N should be there by now.”
“I’m sure they're fine,” Dean assured, yet there was a tinge of worry in the back of his mind he wasn’t ready to acknowledge.
Sam rejected his answer and dialed Cas and then Jack, but neither answered.
“They are probably just taking a look around while they wait for the rest of us to catch up.” Dean attempted to convince Sam as much as himself.
Glimmers of orange joined the symphony of colors in the sky after Sam and Dean had stopped. Each of them now sipped on a cup of crappy gas station coffee, but at least this early in the morning, it was fresh.
Now that Sam was awake, Dean began to tune the radio, looking for something other than morning talk shows. Finally, found a station that played the 70s and 80s. Sam huffed a laugh as Kim Carnes’ voice joined the classic synth riff and waited for Dean to start his search again.
“Here,” Sam went for the box of cassettes under his feet. “Seems like your outta luck.”
Dean blocked Sam’s before he could put a cassette in. “No. no. This is fine.”
Sam chuckled again in disbelief but wasn’t going to argue. He returned the box to its resting place. “Too early for rock n roll?”
“What are you talking about?” Dean challenged. “This is rock. Soft rock.” He justified.
“Mmhmm.” Sam hummed skeptically.
Dean increased the volume a tad and softly drummed along on the steering wheel. He’d spent enough time in the car with Sam not to be shy about his off-key singing. Even so, he sang softly as his voice cracked, attempting to hit the notes.
“She’ll take a tumble on you; roll you like you were dice until you come up blue. She’s got Bette Davis eyes.”
Sam's mouth parted, and he stared at Dean, who was too into the music to pay him any attention. Had it not been so early in the morning, the pieces would have come together more quickly and clearly.
“She’s ferocious, and she knows just what it takes to make a pro blush. All the boys think she's a spy; she’s got Bette Davis eyes.”
The words paused as the riff took back over the song, and Dean looked to Sam, instantly on defense.
“What! What?” He did not apperciate Sam’s flabbergasted face.
“Wow.” Was all Sam said and went back to his coffee.
“Stop that.” Dean’s brow furrowed as he turned the station to two hosts who weren’t as funny as they thought they were, and he focused back on the road. He leaned his elbow against the door and ran his hand through his hair.
“I didn’t say anything,” Sam argued.
“Yeah, but you were thinking it.” Dean snapped back.
“I’m just surprised.” He said after another sip.
Were they really going to have this conversation? Now? It required at least two more cups of coffee.
“Surprised by what?” Dean pushed.
Sam sighed but gave in. “I thought you were just fooling around, but you’ve developed feelings, haven’t you?”
Dean pressed his eyes closed, then remembered he was the one driving. How had Sam figured it out? You’d been more than discrete. “What? No. Feelings? For who?”
Sam pulled out his phone to browse the web and see if any more developments had been reported in Pennsylvania overnight. “Just… be careful, Dean.”
“I know what I’m doing.” He assured.
Sam’s brow rose in question, but he surrendered. He knew he couldn’t convince his brother otherwise, and a lecture would only raise more resistance like that of a defiant teenager. They rode in silence until just outside of Columbus when you appeared in the back. Three fresh coffees and a bag of pastries were in hand.
“Heya, boys.” You greeted them, sounding tired yourself.
“Shit!” Dean swerved the car out of surprise and quickly regained control.
“‘Ey, watch the coffee!” You chided in a thick New York accent.
Dean pushed right back. “A little bit of warning next time.”
You stared each other down in the rearview mirror. The storm that was put on pause yesterday was still brewing. You retreated first, unable to handle the heat building in your core. If you didn’t push your thoughts elsewhere, Sam would be in severe danger of losing his driver. Clearing your throat, you passed two coffees up front and the bag, not before snagging a pain au chocolate.
“Call off the troops.” You instructed Sam. “It’s not Michael.”
“How do you know that?” Dean asked.
Sam pulled out his phone and asked, “We were waiting for you to touch base all evening. What happened?”
“I just know.” The way they looked at you in the rearview mirror knew that answer wouldn’t cut it. “Call it angelic radar. It was how I was able to recognize Cas immediately.”
“He could be hiding,” Dean said, unsatisfied with your conclusion.
“True, and I would think that if it wasn’t for the copious amounts of sulfur all over the town.” You showed little concern about the situation as you unwrapped the pastry.
“Great.” Sam sighed. “If we didn’t have our hands full enough with Michael, now we have miscreant demons running about unchecked."
“I thought you had given them the shakedown?” Dean asked.
“Apparently, the message didn’t stick,” Sam concluded. He sent a message to the groups following them to turn back home and keep digging for clues about the archangel.
You paused to bite into the croissant and moaned at the perfection of the flaky crust, chewy interior, overall butteriness, and hint of sweetness from the chocolate morsels.
Dean was taken aback by the sound he had become all too familiar with. “Do you want us to leave you two alone?”
“Jealous?” You snickered.
Dean looked at Sam, who was finally done texting but taking precious time to dig through the bag.
Dean snatched it from him. “Give me one of those.”
“As for the second part of your interrogation,” You sighed. “Jack had some trouble with the teleportation. He’s there and safe, but it took five jumps. The potion I gave him healed his sickness, but without his own source of grace, I think his abilities are severely limited. I can only lend him so much of my own before I start losing strength too. And despite being family, I will not set myself up to go against Michael at half power.” Sam clenched his jaw. “Castiel will confirm this theory if you think I’m spinning a tale.”
If Dean had any reservations, he didn’t voice them. He was currently occupied with breakfast. “God, where did you get these?”
“Oh, that also took up a chunk of time. I jumped over to the Leelanau Peninsula, where this wonderful little bakery is. Remind me to bring you a pie from there sometime. But terrible cell reception in that area. If you were worried, should’ve said a prayer.” You patted Sam on the shoulder. “You can always reach me that way.”
You leaned back in your seat and pulled out headphones for the remainder of the drive. Dean snuck a glance at you again, and the corner of his mouth slightly upturned. A feeling of comfort flooded him seeing you there. Like you were always meant to be there, and he had been stuck waiting.
Dean looked over to Sam. “So we still following through on this case or turning back?”
Sam shook his head, conflicted as well. “We're almost there anyways. And we shouldn’t give demons a pass to run rampant just because we have bigger fish to fry.” He rubbed his brow. “We’ll have plenty of people looking into Michael back at home, and with….” He jutted his chin to the mirror, indicating you. “It should be an easy enough hunt.”
"Good chance it will reinforce your warning as well, causing less problem in the future." Dean looked back to see you had since stopped paying attention, turned in the seat, and now had your legs stretched out. “Hey!” He swatted at you and missed. “Feet off the upholstery.”
You pulled out an earbud. “What was that? You want me to take a shift behind the wheel?” You knew very well what he had said but wanted to rile him up.
“Yeah, right.” Dean scoffed. “When Hell freezes over.”
A cheeky smile was painted on your face as you returned to your music, but your feet remained planted. Dean shook his head but let it go. They were only a few hours away anyways.
---
Part 5
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mvshortcut · 5 months
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Rhonda Kazembe and/or Dr. Garrison for the headcanon Ask Game <3
wahoo you get both <3
Rhonda Kazembe
Headcanon A:  realistic
I think she makes/weaves/knits all of her clothes from scratch. The only exceptions are pieces she bought from local artists, clothes that Number Two made as gifts, and one very wonky frog hat from Mr. Benedict
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
I honestly can't remember who came up with this - it might've been me or Gert or someone else, I think there's a post about it somewhere - but I love the idea that Rhonda also did rowing in university and was the only person to beat Curtain and he's furious about it and has been attempting to track her down for revenge ever since. He threw his salad across the room upon learning that Rowing Girl and Nicholas's pesky assistant were one and the same.
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
At first, she thought Number Two would think Rhonda wanted to take her place. (Number Two was a bit worried, but she knew that was a personal insecurity/jealousy to work through, she knew Mr. Benedict loved her, and she never wanted to take that out on Rhonda.) But at first, Rhonda tried to make herself scarce and take up as little space as possible, before she and Number Two had a heart-to-heart and she started coming out of her shell.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
I've been answering for Show Rhonda but I know she's also fought someone with a vehicle before. I know this in my heart.
Dr. Garrison
Headcanon A:  realistic
If we ever got a season 3, I like to imagine she would've been helping the sister (either with her skills or as an informant) before switching sides at the last minute. I imagine some dramatic scene where she sacrifices herself or puts herself in danger to help Kate escape in a reversal of the almost-brainsweeping scene in Season 1.
Headcanon B: while it may not be realistic it is hilarious
has not left her lab for the past 8 years. also has been toting SQ around with an iPad to keep him busy while on the run from Curtain in season 2 (credit to Wynn I believe for that last one!)
Headcanon C: heart-crushing and awful, but fun to inflict on friends
I think Dr. Garrison is the sort to run away from her problems (valid), but I'm imagining in a world where she goes to therapy, she spends the rest of her life trying to make amends. Maybe she uses her science powers for good, or checks up on the families/people she brainswept to see if she can help/make it up to them in any way. I don't think Milligan and Kate ever forgive her, but they have a great amount of respect for her attempting to alleviate the harm she's done and are even genuinely friendly with her, if not the best of friends.
Headcanon D: unrealistic, but I will disregard canon about it because I reject canon reality and substitute my own.
Divorcee. next
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retphienix · 7 months
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I feel like Freighters are weirdly implemented- but like- it's clearly for QOL but also it's just, really weird since it's made my progression as a new player go all over the place lol
I guess a lot of the updates have some jank associated with intended progression.
Freighters don't need antimatter to teleport to your location, so even if you go in a black hole and end up 1 million light years away you can just.
click freighter.
and it's there with no fuel cost?
Like even calling your ship to you costs launch fuel-
(when on a planet at least- when teleporting around through portals not so much but I digress because that seems like softlock protection- I'll have to look up if portals always existed because the more I think of it the more they seem like a later addition for QOL because they render MOST (not all) hyperspace travel redundant)
-but a freighter with an empty hyperspeed drive can teleport anywhere in the universe for free if you ask it nicely.
Which means you're exocrafts- which you bought at the anomaly- which you get access to REALLY EARLY- which is BEFORE the quests that introduce exocrafts- are available anywhere at anytime thanks to the bay you can build in the freighter which is weird, right?
Sure you have to get the bay (both the freighter and the craft one) but that means you can (and *I DID*) be a new player who stumbles into buying a freighter for cheap as a newbie, researching 2 cheap techs thanks to the anomaly mostly, and all of a sudden I have infinite exocraft access always because freighters don't cost fuel for some reason to summon.
Speaking of- it's weird that you just buy the bay for 10 salvage and then have the craft, like I thought I'd be making the craft, instead I make a circle on the ground and they throw in a mech or sub or car for free, I was really confused when I did that and part of that is because there was no quest introducing them to me... BUT THERE IS ONE BECAUSE 110 HOURS IN I'M JUST NOW GETTING THAT QUEST! lol
I know I sound like I'm harping on it but in terms of game-feel I'm down for the QOL offered, I do just feel a touch off, like SOME form of smack on the wrist style cost should be associated with this.... right?
Like you need access to your ship at all times- teleporting that with you through portals and the like is surely QOL design on a system meant to alleviate the need for extensive hyperspace travel between points of interest- I ACCEPT that "freebie".
But you DON'T need your freighter all the time.... why is it free?
You DON'T need your exocrafts all the time.... but inadvertently by granting freighters access to the exocraft summoning bay you're given access to them at all times FOR FREE- and indeed sometimes it's more fun to struggle on inhospitable worlds WITHOUT them- so again-
you don't need your freighter or exocraft- why are THEY free to travel around the universe with just like the ship which you DO need?
I feel like summoning the freighter should cost hyperspace engine fuel equivalent to the distance traveled but like all the years of QOL adjustments would make that actually stupid to do lol
Because think of it- logically that makes sense (why is it free both from a lore and design perspective since you don't need them like a ship) but!
What would making it cost something CHANGE?
Because you would just fly to the space station and use the FREE INFINITE RANGE PORTAL to go to your freighter to drop stuff off in storage.
All this would do is increase menuing and load time and the only "benefit" (a billion quotation marks because it's conditional as all hell person to person) would be lowering access to crafts which are an EZ mode crutch for extreme planets so lowering access is "arguably" good since it will promote creative problem solving like making a new base on the shit hole planet so you can have your crafts available- or carrying around the craft summoning pod thing etc etc
All in all changing this would only create minor to moderate headaches- but I did give myself a minor headache when I noticed how nonsensically "convenient" things were in regards to exo + freighter (and how the game handed them to me for free and then a hundred hours later tried to tutorialize them to me lol).
Also after the game already gave me 1 storage container and the anomaly sold me the other storage containers and my freighter CAME WITH ACCESS to all the storage containers BEFORE I EVEN BOUGHT THE BPs- I'm being given a tutorial quest that introduces storage containers.
That seems like some overlap lol Freighters giving them for free is crazy :P
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aclosetfan · 2 years
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If you don’t mind, do you mind sharing any more headcannons for the fake dating story? I love your work by the way and I hope you’re feeling better!
Aw haha nah I wouldn’t mind!! Sorry Ik I haven’t updated anything but writing is taking everything out of me rn 😂 I think with everything that’s going on my brain imploded, but I’ve been adding sentences here and there to everything!
Tbh I don’t have many h/c for the fake dating au that don’t give away the plot, but here’s some sweet things I’d like to incorporate:
1) I think I’ve already discussed that BC is on a roller derpy team for super powered people! She’s the youngest on the team, but their big point star. A lot of the people she plays with are older women with families and when she lets it slip that she’s “dating” someone they demand he’s brought in to perform the hazing ritual. Without revealing too much, Buttercup asks if he wants to go to a game despite this breaking “NO WEEKENDS” rule and can totally not if doesn’t want to, nbd, truly she doesn’t care, but if you do don’t wear anything nice. He says yes, ends up really liking be a derby-boyfriend, gets a shit ton of Gatorade poured on him, and a very platonic kiss of the cheek. Officially, initiated into the derby fam, he gets a jacket like the rest of the derby-wives.
2) Bubbles also has a derby jacket despite not being officially initiated because she might as well be. She’s basically the teams number one fan and leads the crowds in the chants. The girl has a touch of bloodlust in her and gets amped when things get dangerous. Blossom is also a big fan but she’s quiet and likes to enjoy the atmosphere. No jacket but she’s considered Bubbles ‘assistant Pep Squad director
3) Boomer loves derby and Brick reluctantly likes it! They’re weary hanging out with the girls for the first time eve socially outside of school, but they all end up having fun. And the guys enjoy seeing Butch so happy.
4) speaking of, this isn’t a “first love” story for Butch. He was kind of head over heels for a manic pixie dream girl type at the juvenile hall. She was one of those poetic smokers who say a lot but nothing at all and Butch was suckered into the cool girl vibes. They got into a lot of fun trouble together and when he wanted more out of the relationship she dropped him. It ends up being a relationship he regrets and panics when he starts to feel like he’s getting too close to Buttercup b/c he doesn’t want to go through that again. Obviously, though, Buttercup is too much of a dweeb in this story to be a cool girl like his previous love interest, she just gives off the allusion. Butch is actually the cool one lmao (I know, I know, but he’s not actually cool just between the two he is). To alleviate his fears, he just has to wait until Buttercup drops her phone on her face, or cry over the Air Bud movies, or ask him something just Boomer-level stupid and he feels better.
5) pretty early on Buttercup and Butch realize that their fake relationship ends up being this great “get out of jail free card.” When Buttercup doesn’t want to go to some public function or Butch needs five seconds away from his brothers, they just go “oh sorry! I actually have a date with butters/Butch.” They don’t really have to seek each other out to maintain the lie, but they more often then not hangout during these moments. Mostly the hole-up in Butch’s room or they mess around somewhere in the City or the nature reserve. Hanging out in Butch’s room usually leads to more intimate moments, which they both would prefer to avoid, but Buttercup is sometimes fighting off sleep deprivation from the hero job she maintains, so they take a lot of naps together. Mostly she’s the one napping while Butch fiddles around his room like she isn’t there (she thinks he makes good white noise), but occasionally she falls asleep on his shoulder and it’s not like he’s going to be the one to wake her up.
6) here’s a snippet:
“Name one thing,” Brick jabbed a finger in her face, “one thing you like about my brother!”
Her eyes crossed as looked at the finger in a panic. “H-huh?”
“If you like him enough to date him,” Brick seethed, red in the face as he spoke through gritted teeth, “then you can name one fucking thing you like about him.”
“It’s not an unreasonable request, Buttercup,” Blossom said, crossing her arms. Playing the opposite of Brick, Blossom didn’t look visibly angry, but Buttercup knew in her bones what the cold tone of her voice meant. “Answer the question,” her sister demanded.
Buttercup chewed on the inside of her cheek as she scrambled for anything at all she knew about Butch, but it was like the boy had been erased from her mind. Terrified that she had just been caught in the scam and not even three days in, she babbled soundlessly as she tried to assemble one coherent thought.
“It’s a fucking lie, isn’t it?” Brick hissed, after she didn’t answer, “You don’t like my brother. You’re using hi—“
“His smile!” She squeaked, because maybe, right now, honesty was the best policy. “He has a very—“ she blushed, thinking up an appropriate adjective that revealed enough but not too much, “—it’s, uh, well nice! No wait,” she corrected herself because nice wasn’t good enough, honestly, in her real opinion, “better then nice. Pretty? Um, or handsome? Do guys like when girls say dashing? That’s kind of a fancy thing to say right? Or, no, that’s kind of old-timey, right?”
Buttercup clamped her mouth shut after that, having the good sense to shut the hell up. How did someone fuck up a compliment about a person’s smile? She was an idiot.
She boiled with embarrassment as she looked between the two red-heads. She prayed for Blossom’s sympathy, out of the two people cornering her right now, Blossom was the one who knew how awkward she felt when it came to compliments.
“Aw, babe,” a pair of arms shot out, pulling her away from the two in front of her and wrapping her into a backward hug. Butch smiled down at her, “you think my smile’s dashing?”
If she thought she had been boiling before, this was like punting her directly into the sun. She wanted to hide behind her hands (or tbh punt herself directly into the sun), but that wasn’t what girlfriends did, was it?
“Well, y-yeah,” she shrugged, still brave enough to be honest despite her embarrassment. Butch really did have a nice smile, she was pretty sure everyone knew that.
If Buttercup wasn’t so intensely watching his face, she would have miss the millisecond where the look in his eyes softened. Butch pulled her tighter into him, ripping his gaze away from her to glare at his brother and her sister. Their positioning was reminiscent to the one they stood In at the pep assembly as Butch rested his jaw on the crown of her head. It, combined with the memory of the pep assembly, made her stomach flip-flop.
“Can you two stop interrogating my girlfriend?” He growled, “We’re dating, get over it.”
“She’s my sister,” Blossom snapped, but Butch didn’t bow to her trump card.
“Yeah, and some sister you are, you’re being a dick to her.” Butch huffed, turning back to Buttercup, “We’re going to be late for class. Come on, Buttercup,” He tugged her towards math in the opposite direction of their siblings.
She let him pull her along by the hand almost a little starstruck, watching the broad part of his back. No one, and she meant no one, got away with talking to Blossom like that. And Butch just had.
Her stomach flip-flopped all over again.
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