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#please we can make this a real tag please
pinkeos · 2 days
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Dad!Sunday Headcanons
Warning/s: None and no mention of reader's gender, whether the kids are adopted or your own is up to you
Notes: our internet is deadge so imma post this real quick from the neighbor's wifi, hopefully it gets fixed soon😭
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ena the order told me that sunday is a dad to twin boys, it's real it's legit not clickbait
we all know he likes to have control over things, so it'd be funny to see dad!sunday struggling to control the boys with how rowdy and mischievous they are
like, if he wasn't busy with work, he'd be carefully watching over the kids like a hawk, making sure they don't do anything risky both to themselves and to others around them. please, he'd rather attend a meeting with the boys next to him rather than leave them unattended, trying to ignore the amused looks he was receiving from the other family heads
dad!sunday would consider buying those child harness thingy after that one time the boys were with him in the hotel lobby, he only looked away for a bit and when he turned back to them, they were already running about bothering guests with their shenanigans
when it was you, though, the boys were so behaved he thinks they've been possessed. turns out, they just really love bullying their father
they're so full of energy sometimes that dad!sunday would have trouble keeping up, especially when he's just finished with his duties. he couldn't be any more grateful whenever you'd guard him while he rests so that the boys wouldn't climb over him (they once tried to throw his halo like a frisbee)
as much as they agreed on things, there were still days they couldn't agree on one thing and bickered quite a lot. dad!sunday would have to pull them away from each other lest they throw hands and scold their ears off about their behaviors and that they should love each other because they were family. these scoldings often lasted so long that the boys agreed they wouldn't fight as much or their ears might just actually fall off with how much he talks
all the childish shenanigans aside, dad!sunday is actually very proud of his little boys. they're smart like him, and even displayed a sense of leadership, and they're kind (when they're not feeling like they're invincible that is)
and they love their auntie robin so much, too! whenever she was around, they'd be glued to her side because they seldom see her with her being a touring singer and all. they also love her because she brings them sweets and trinkets from planets she's visited
they're also very protective, like when he's not able to be around you, dad!sunday can always trust the boys to watch over you
dad!sunday is such a family man (no pun intended)
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it was one of those days that sunday could relax, with no agenda and nothing to worry about. surrounded by his loving family in the garden as he sipped tea with a smile on his face
the boys weren’t too far away, playing tag with their laughs and giggles echoing in the background as he shared how his days have been with you
while you were conversing with your husband, one of your children tripped and fell face first against the grass. this cut off your conversation as he began to sob while his brother laughed at him
sunday was quick to approach them, getting on one knee to gently help the boy back to his feet, “are you alright? what happened?”
“he fell!” the older one grinned.
“oh there, there.” you cooed, picking up the boy in your arms as he pointed and sobbed about his scrapped knee
sunday turned to his other child with a sigh, “you shouldn't laugh at your brother. he was hurt, wasn't he? you should have helped him up.”
the boy frowned, looking down, “sorry, father…”
sunday shook his head, tenderly holding his boy’s hand in his gloved one, “you shouldn't apologize to me, but to your brother.”
the halovian guided the child to where you were cleaning the other boy’s knee, comforting him. sunday couldn't help how proud and joyful he was as he watched the older twin apologize before they hugged.
“thank you.” he suddenly spoke up as he turned to you, a smile on his face.
“for what?”
he held your hand and kisses the back of it, “for having this family with me.”
before you could reply, two voices interrupted you.
“ew!”
“father is so sappy!”
it took only one look from sunday before the boys scampered off, giggling.
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burntheedges · 2 days
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Maintenance Request Chapter 23
Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 2.7k
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chapter summary: the end of the semester has arrived, so where does that leave our favorite couple? 💕
a/n: y'all, this is the last chapter. I honestly can't believe it. please send me an ask for the celebration of the end of the fic if you haven't, I would love to answer them -- I'm going to start posting those next week and after as we get to the epilogue. but send me as many as you'd like!
thank you to everyone who has read any part of this fic. if I think about this too much I get really emotional. I can't believe so many of you have stuck around all these week. thank you so much 🧡 and if you're finding this later, please tell me what you think. I will always want to know!
one more big thank you to @katareyoudrilling, who is an amazing beta and who helped make this fic so much better than the draft she saw the first time she read it. 🧡
chapter tags/warnings: construction noises (lol), HCG, reader can wink (author cannot), poetry, cuddling, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, honey, baby), kissing, grinding, p-in-v sex, semi-public sex, so much fluff
Chapter 23
Friday, December 6 Last day of classes 
You were walking back to your office from your last class of the semester, feeling the relief start to seep through you, when you heard the unmistakable sound of a jackhammer.
You’d know that sound anywhere. 
Turning abruptly, you headed towards the source of the noise. You had a pretty good feeling you knew who might be overseeing whatever work was going on.
Sure enough, as you turned the corner to the future location of the new library, you caught sight of a familiar set of shoulders (and a familiar cocked hip). Joel had his back to you, arms crossed, and was dressed up in his Hot Construction Guy outfit. You grinned. 
When you were about 10 feet behind him, you called out, “excuse me, how long will this noise go on for? Don’t you know classes are in session?” You tried to sound annoyed and tamp down on your grin as he spun to face you. You wanted to pretend to look serious, but he was already smiling at you. You smiled back. 
“I thought classes ended fifteen minutes ago, darlin’.” He raised an eyebrow at you, grinning.
“Maybe so. You should really tell your boss to schedule these things better, you know.” You winked at him and he laughed. 
“You reckon? You know, you aren’t the first person to say so.” Joel stepped closer to you and tucked his arm around your waist. 
“No?” You smiled as he pulled you in. 
He nodded, unable to hold back a laugh. “Some gorgeous professor who really hates me told me the same thing.”
You raised your hands to his shoulders. “She sounds like a real piece of work.”
He laughed and ducked down to press a soft kiss to your lips. You smiled into it and felt the stress of the last week of classes start to fall away from your shoulders. It was soft and comforting and warm, but it didn’t last long — a sharp whistle from the construction site interrupted you. As you broke apart you realized the jackhammer noise had stopped. 
You looked up and were met with the eyes of the entire crew there at your end of the site. All of them were grinning at you. You felt your cheeks start to get warm.
“Slacking off again, boss?” One of them called, clearly teasing. The others laughed, and one made his way over to you as they got back to work. 
“You must be the reason Miller here’s been in such a good mood lately.” The man was tall and dressed similarly to Joel. He nodded at you. “Jesse. Nice to meet you.”
You laughed a little and patted Joel on the shoulder as you introduced yourself. “Was he that much of a grump before?”
Joel groaned and rolled his eyes. Both of you grinned at him. 
“Well, he definitely never got out of the office this much, before. He’s all over campus lately. For a while we thought he was checking on our work, hovering and sticking his nose in, until we figured out the real reason.” He winked at you. “And I caught him humming yesterday while he was doing paperwork.” Joel ran a hand over his eyes and sighed. 
You laughed again. “You know I had no idea he was the boss, for a while.”
Jesse’s eyes lit up. “Seriously, Miller? You didn’t tell her?” He looked at Joel, starting to grin. “What, you didn’t want to brag or something?”
Joel sighed. “Look—“
You elbowed him and he grabbed your hand. “He thought I knew, but he was also afraid I’d find out and blame all the noise problems on him.”
Jesse laughed and Joel shook his head. 
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you. I’ve got to head back to my office and finish up some stuff. Joel, I’ll see you soon?”
He nodded. “I’ll meet you there before we leave.” 
You smiled – you were having dinner at his place tonight, and Sarah had planned something special to celebrate the end of the semester. You leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “See you then. Bye, y’all!” You called your farewell to the crew and they all waved. 
“Nice to meet you!” Jesse called back, and as you walked away you heard him tease Joel, “how’d you get so lucky, man?”
Joel’s gruff voice answered, “don’t know. Been thankin’ my lucky stars for it every damn day, though.” You smiled and decided you’d tell him later that you felt the exact same way. 
Later that night, after you’d had the amazing dinner Sarah had come up with (with Tommy’s help), and after you’d spent some time just chatting with them around the table, she headed out for a sleepover and Tommy left to drop Sarah off and then meet a woman. (That’s all you knew about her. He was being oddly secretive, and Joel had been complaining about it for days. You didn’t even know her name.) 
As twilight set in, you found yourself relaxing side by side with Joel on a padded lounge chair in his back garden. He’d finally given you a tour a few weeks back and you were starting to wish you could spend more time here. It was beautiful, and peaceful, and full of clever little nooks like this one to relax in. The paths were lined by tall bushes and wound around before opening up into a shady area at the very back. You were certain you still hadn’t seen all of it. 
Joel had also finally admitted that he did used to have some of the plants that made you sneeze, but he’d uprooted them as best he could to gift them to a neighbor down the street. It sounded like it had gone pretty well, all things considered.
Technically the lounge chair was probably meant for one person, even though it was wider than most, but you’d squeezed in together. Joel was sprawled out and you were tucked into his right side with your arm across his chest, a light blanket thrown over both of you.
The semester was over and you were almost free, except for some grading. You were enjoying the quiet moment with him, enjoying the beauty of the work of his hands all around you, when he suddenly tensed. 
“Joel? What is it?” You tilted your head to up to catch his eye and found him with a worried look on his face. You bit your lip.
He sighed. “I have a surprise for you.”
You sat up, leaving your hand on his chest. “A surprise? Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you askance. “Well, let me just show you.” He sat up a bit and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. You watched as he unfolded it slowly and carefully but didn’t catch a glimpse of any of the writing on it. You turned so you were sitting facing him and tucked the blanket around your shoulders. 
Once you were settled he nodded to himself and reached out to take your hand. “Ok.” He took a visibly deep breath, and then he started reading, voice deep and warm.
“…you are a concordance of person, number, voice, and place, strawberries spread through your name    as if it were budding shrubs,”
At the first line he recited, you gasped and tightened your grip on his hand. You knew this poem. You’d read it before. He’d started somewhere in the middle, but you knew it, still. You felt your eyes start to tear up. 
“how you remind me    of some spring, the waters as cool and clear (late rain clings to your leaves, shaken by light wind), which is where you occur in grassy moonlight:    and you are a lily, an aster, white trillium or viburnum, by all rights mine, white star    in the meadow sky,” 
You hadn’t memorized it, like Joel clearly had – he’d barely glanced at the paper in his hand, even closing his eyes after the first few lines. But he didn’t rush. His pace was slow and steady and sure. You watched his mouth form the shape of these beautiful words and you felt them wash over you and tug at something in the center of your chest. 
“the snow still arriving from its earthwards journeys, here where there is    no snow (I dreamed the snow was you, when there was snow), you are my right, have come to be my night (your body takes on    the dimensions of sleep, the shape of sleep    becomes you): and you fall from the sky with several flowers, words spill from your mouth in waves, your lips taste like the sea, salt-sweet (trees    and seas have flown away, I call it loving you):”
You sucked in a sharp breath at that line as it sent a shiver down your spine. You remembered the ending and felt a tear slip down your face as you started to smile, helplessly. 
“home is nowhere, therefore you,    a kind of dwell and welcome, song after all,    and free of any eden we can name”
When he finished, you squeezed his hand hard and his eyes flew open. He looked so nervous you could barely stand it. 
“Joel!” You said his name forcefully, and he blinked. His hand came up to cup your cheek and he brushed his thumb gently under your eye.
“Shit, darlin’, I didn’t mean to make you cry. Was it bad?”
“Bad?!” You reached up to hold his hand against your face and turned to kiss his palm once, twice, three times in quick succession. “Joel, that was beautiful. I— I had no idea you—“ you trailed off, tongue-tied. “I loved it.” You felt him thumb away another tear gently and smiled. “I loved it so much. Where did you read it?”
He was smiling at you now, clearly relieved. “In that book you loaned Sarah. She helped me. I’ll be honest, at first I just said I wanted a love poem and we found it because of the flowers.”
You grinned at him. “That’s a great way to find a poem, Joel. Through what you love.”
He nodded, looking sheepish. “Well, the first time I read it, I knew it was true. About you.” You tilted your head, wondering which part he meant. “You are those things, to me. Moonlight, and flowers, and everything else. And a home.” 
You felt your tears start to well again as you nodded. “Joel, that’s beautiful. I love that poem. And I loved hearing you say it. I–” You closed your mouth abruptly. You’d almost continued I love you, but you were somehow still afraid. Maybe it was too soon. Even if you felt it, so much, more than ever in this moment. 
He brushed his thumb across your cheekbone and smiled at you. “C’mere, sweetheart.” He pulled you forward and you fell into a kiss, crawling into his lap. You wanted to be close, as close to him as possible. He welcomed you and wrapped his arms around you.
You broke the kiss to press your forehead against his. You closed your eyes and spoke, unable to hold it in any longer. “Love is a place. A home. I’ve always believed that home can be a person, and love the home you make with them.” 
You heard him whisper your name and smiled. You leaned back slightly to meet his eyes, and saw he had tears in his, too. You frowned. “Joel, are you–”
“I love you.” He interrupted you. His voice was deep and firm and it stole your breath away. 
“Joel,” you breathed his name, eyes wide.
“I know it’s too early, sweetheart, but I do. I love you and I need you to know it. I want that with you. To build a home. To be each other’s home.” He lifted his right hand to cup your face again and your next intake of breath felt like a sob. “I want everything with you.”
You steadied yourself with your hands on his chest and searched for your words. “Joel, I love you, too. So freaking much.” You watched as his expression was transformed from nervous to delighted.
He grinned. “Say it again, honey.”
“I love you, Joel Miller.”
“And I love you.”
You cut him off before he could say your name, pushing forward into a hard kiss. He wrapped his arms around you again to pull you tight against him.
“How’d I get this lucky,” he murmured against your lips. 
You smiled. “I heard you say that earlier. I think I’m the lucky one, you know.”
He shook his head. “No way, darlin’.”
You laughed and he buried his face in your shoulder. “Well, we can just be lucky together.”
He smiled against your neck and you felt him start to worry a new mark into your collarbone. You sighed and tangled your fingers through his hair. 
“As long as we’re doin’ it together, honey, we can be whatever you like.” He nipped lightly at your neck and you shivered. 
Joel leaned back and pulled you into another kiss. His hands slid down your back and grasped your hips. You gasped as he pulled you forward, grinding against you. You could feel his cock through both of your pants and you tried to widen your legs around his hips, tried to feel him where you wanted him most.
“Ever had sex out here?” Your voice was breathy as you asked and he hummed. 
“Never.” His hands slipped forward around your waist and undid the button of your pants. “Was waitin’ for you.”
You laughed a little, charmed by the absurd idea. “You didn’t even know I existed when you grew this garden, Joel.”
“Hmm,” he mumbled, pushing your pants down over your hips. You shimmied out of them and came back to rest your naked pussy over his still-clothed cock, wrapping the blanket around your shoulders. You rocked forward and sighed happily when he spoke. “I was still missin’ you, baby. Was lookin’ for you. Just didn’t know it yet.”
Your heart swelled and you swallowed against the sudden tightness in your throat. “I was looking for you too, Joel.” You reached down to undo his pants and quickly pulled his cock free. He was devastatingly hard.
“‘M so happy I found you, sweetheart.” He tugged your hips forward and up, notching the tip of his cock right at your entrance. “I love you.” He murmured it right against your lips as he pulled you downwards, as you sank down steadily on his cock.
You moaned as you came to rest against his hips. The way he filled you was perfect, every single time.
“I love you so much, Joel Miller,” you almost sobbed his name as he urged you with his hands to begin moving. You rocked your hips against his and he leaned forward to rest your foreheads together. You could feel his breath against your lips and it was suddenly the most intimate thing you’d ever done, moving together like that, so close, so connected. It felt like every part of you was touching every part of him, like something inside of you had reached out and latched onto him and wouldn’t let go.
He whispered your name again and you shivered. “I love having you here.”
“Here?” You smirked and twisted your hips and reveled in his moan. 
“Here in my lap – yes. Always.” He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. “You look so good sitting on this cock, honey. Was made for you.” 
You moaned at his words and rocked your hips forward. 
“Goddamn,” he breathed. “Yes. But I meant, I want you here all the time, honey. I was going to wait, shit–” he cut off abruptly when you ground your hips downward against him. “But please, baby, say you’ll move in. Come live with us.” You gasped. “Make this your home.”
There was a feeling rising up in you that was so huge, so overwhelming, you didn’t know what would happen when it spilled out. It felt like happiness and love and everything you felt every time you locked eyes with this man, every time he looked at you.
“Yes, Joel.” He shuddered. “Not today,” you laughed and he joined you, rueful. “But yes. I want to make a home with you.”
He groaned as he thrust into you again, and you wrapped yourself around him and let the joy take over.
...
a/n: 😭 please let me know what you think. I love all of you and I'll see you next week for the epilogue. in the meantime please send me as many celebration asks as you'd like.
The poem featured in part in this chapter is "You, Therefore," written by Reginald Shepherd for his partner, Robert Philen. Please go read it. Shepherd wrote it knowing he was dying and that his partner would outlive him (and Philen did, in fact) and it's one of the most beautiful things I've ever read.
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A Guiding Hand 2
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, parental neglect, depression, inference of self harm, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: your online academics are affected by your personal struggles but your professor won’t let you give up so easy.
Characters: Raymond Smith, Lee Bodecker in the background
Note: I think my back is ok now.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Tuesday comes too quickly. You don’t sleep the night before. It’s more than just Lee and your mother arguing that keeps you awake. The anxiety of your meeting bears down on you like an open maw, ready to devour you.
You don’t expect it to go well. You’re not even sure why you’re doing it. 
That one thought repeats over and over. You don’t have to. You can cancel. You can make another excuse and stay a loser. That’s easy. Maybe that’s why it’s so scary. Because new things are hard. 
You languish in bed as the time ticks by. You got to get up and get moving. Soon, you’ll do something. Soon. 
You roil in the trepidation. Each move, each little thing, is a gargantuan task. You sneak out to wash your face and make yourself as presentable as you can. You waited too long. You have five minutes to put something on that isn’t wrinkled and stale. 
You put on a black sweatshirt, hoping the little balls of lint aren’t visible. Maybe you can get away with just turning the microphone on. You open the computer and shift in the chair. One minute. 
You find the email and scroll down to the link. You hover over it and stare. Noon on the dot. Your hand falters and you click the Zoom meeting. It opens in the browser and your breath traps in your chest.  
The little box in the corner is black as you leave the red line through the camera icon as the mic catches the rustle of your shirt. There’s a man on screen. He sits before an office backdrop but you can’t tell if its digitally generated or real. His blond hair is combed back and he sports a thick beard and glasses. He wears a wool sweater over a collared shirt and stares down the camera. 
“Hello,” he speaks, “anyone there?” 
You clear your throat and croak, nearly choking on your own spit.  
“Here,” you manage to squeak. 
“Ah, hello there, may I ask you turn your camera on?” His voice is low and lilted, almost smoky in a way. 
You hesitate and scratch your neck, letting your fingers wander up to your scalp. The itch spread, making sitting still unbearable. You wince as you hear someone in the kitchen, the fridge door closes heavily and a dish clinks on the counter. 
“Hello?” The voice comes again. 
You panic and hit the keyboard. You steady your hand and tap the camera, shying away as you slouch in your chair. The dim glow of your bedside lamp leaves you in shadow. Still, you feel exposed. 
“Better,” he says but with little enthusiasm, “well, I suppose we best get to the meat of things,” he adjusts his posture. 
“Okay,” you murmur and cross your arms, looking evasively at the wall. 
“Good to finally meet. I’m Professor Smith,” he introduces himself and calls you by name. 
“You too,” you utter out of courtesy. This is torture to you. 
“Now, you’ve done very well on your completed work,” his eyes scan as he looks at the screen before him, "you’ve shown improvement up until a few weeks ago. You do have a lot of potential to be successful here--” 
You nod and hunch down further. You just feel worse. You’re a lazy slob. You didn’t finish your work just like you never finish the laundry or cleaning your room. 
“Irene!” Lee’s voice booms on the other side of the wall and you wince, looking over your shoulder then back to the computer. You huddle closer, hoping he didn’t hear that. Your mother’s drone responds to the holler. 
“Perhaps it is the format? We could explore another option for your remaining assignments. I can accommodate where necessar--” 
“Fuck off!” Lee shouts and a loud bang hits the hallway wall. You gulp and your lips part. 
“Lee, please, I didn’t-- I wouldn’t--” 
“Should’ve known better than to trust a whore!” Lee barks. 
You cover your face and shrink down. No! Not now. 
“Is everything alright?” He asks and you separate your fingers, looking through them. You drop your hands and nod. 
“Sorry--” 
Another loud thump, this time against your door and your mother sobs loudly as she slides down the other side. You stammer and your lip trembles as you stare mortified at the lens in the frame of the laptop. This is awful. 
“What is happen--” 
You wiggle your fingers on the touchpad and hit End Call. You retract and wrap your arms around your head, folding over your lap as you rock. How humiliating. You can’t believe that happened. Well, you can. It’s what always happens. 
Your mother and Lee continue to argue, their fight just outside your door. You shake your head as you stay curled over. You don’t know why she does this. These men come around, call her names, knock her around, and she lets them come right back. 
A tinkling noise comes from the speaker. Professor Smith is calling you. You decline the call. An email chimes in at the corner. It’s from him as well. You see the preview, a response to his last email. 
‘Please respond or I will call authorities to confirm your saf....’ 
You click on the notification to expand the full message. You sigh and don’t bother reading the rest as you hit reply. 
‘Everything is fine. I will take the fail. Thank you.’ 
Another call comes in. Just leave me alone! You hit the red button again and delete his last email. And he calls again. Ugh. What does he care. You’re sure he has lots of students to worry about. Another email and another call. Back and forth until you accidentally hit the wrong key. 
He appears again, closer to the lens as his forehead lines, “hello, hey, hey,” he sits back, holding up a hand as you scramble, panicking as you fidget and try to figure out what to do, “don’t hang up, alright? Don’t, or I will be obligated to call the police.” 
As he commands you, your mother and Lee continue their sparring in the hall, voices raised though not as clear from the front room. You sniff and rub your cheek, soothing yourself as you bring up your other hand to chew on your sleeve. 
“Are you in danger?” He asked pointedly. You shake your head. “What is all that then?” 
He’s quiet and you are enveloped again in the chaos outside your room. You shrug and tilt your head to one side. You look down. 
“My mom...” 
He sighs, “look, I wouldn’t have taken the time to call if I didn’t think you could do this. Perhaps, this was the wrong avenue. So, is it possible we meet somewhere neutral. In person?” 
You shudder and sit up as much as you can, wringing your hands, “I... I... don’t drive.” 
“That’s alright, is there a library near you, yeah? I can find my way.” 
You frown and flick your lip under your teeth several times. You see yourself in the little box. You look scary as your eyes are pools of shadows. 
“Uh...” you pull your hands apart and open a new tab, happy to have your image off the screen. You type into the search. You think there’s a library close by. “Yes, um, there is...” 
“Send me the location. We’ll reschedule. When are you available? Thursday? I’m afraid tomorrow I’m booked up.” 
You switch back to the video call. You feel tears tightening your throat and ready to spring. You shake your head and paste the URL of the library branch into the chat. His eyes flit down to read it. 
“Thursday,” you repeat but it’s not as much a question as you mean. 
“Thursday is good. Can we do earlier? Ten?” He asks. 
You don’t know. You’re not used to making decisions. You don’t get asked for your preference ever. 
“Sure,” you answer, just wanting to end the call and hide in bed. 
“Alright, I’ll pencil you in,” he says, “shall I stay on the call until that...” he pauses as Lee continues to bluster, “subsides?” 
“No,” you shake your head. 
He stares at you, his forehead lined with disapproval. Why does he care so much? He doesn’t know you. 
“Are you certain?” He intones. 
You nod, “I have to go.” 
You end the call and shut the computer. Your stomach is a jumble and you’re jittering with adrenaline. All your life, you’ve hidden behind these walls; you’ve hidden all that goes on there. To have someone witness it is worse than the yelling and hitting itself. 
You ignore the chirp from the laptop and throw yourself into bed. Thursday. So, another torturous purgatory begins, waiting to face the professor and your incompetence once more. 
📓
Thursday comes too quickly. 
You sit in your room and convince yourself to go. It was easier when it was just a computer screen, though even that was difficult. Only for you because you’re so messed up. Because you can’t do anything. 
What else can you do? The whole night you were awake thinking about how you would tell your mother. If you flunk out, you default on the student loan and you’re even deeper in the pit. The true consequences of your laziness are clearer now and you can’t let your sloth bury you again. If you do, you may as well give up on everything. Even life itself. 
So, you have no choice. You’re being given a last chance. Again. You’d feel even worse for not taking it than you would for failing at it. 
You pull on a hoodie and grab your house key and your knapsack with your computer and notebook tucked inside. That’s all you really have. No phone, no wallet. Just the bare minimum.  
You shuffle to the door, standing just inside as you muster your courage. You check your digital watch, an old Casio you’ve had for years. The numbers are dim and hard to read in the dark. You have to get going. 
You emerge and go down to the kitchen to sneak a sip of water before you go. Your room is always so dry at night. You drain a glass and rinse it out, leaving it beside the sink. As you turn around, you hear your mother’s bedroom door and the slap of her slippers as she slinks in. 
“Ah, honey,” she smiles dopily. You can smell liquor from there. She might even still be drunk as her hangovers usually keep her abed. “There you are! Oh, gosh, are you going somewhere?” 
“Mm, library,” you answer, “for school.” 
“Oh, smart girl,” she slurs. You try to smile but it’s shaky and weak. Your mom tries, you know that, so you can’t hate her. “Can you stop by the shop on your way? I got a twenty. Wouldn’t mind some vodka.” 
You pick at a fingernail, “mom, I don’t... I don’t like buying that stuff.” 
“Mm, I know, but I...” she sways on her feet and belches into her fist, “never mind. I’ll just ask Lee when he comes by.” 
“He’s coming?” You ask warily. 
“Sure, sure,” she turns and staggers to the fridge, “he must be missing me by now.” 
She bends, leaning on the door as she opens it, and peruses the mostly empty shelves. You leave her and go down the hall. You grab your shoes and slip them on, once more stopping at the threshold. Keep going. You made it this far. 
You let yourself out and lock the door behind you. You take the stairs down to the first level and continue out onto the street. You keep to the edge of the pavement as you weave around other pedestrians that pass. 
Your lips move as you recite the directions to yourself. You were sure to memorise the route as best as you could. You get turned around but right yourself and make it to the corner when you can see the grey brick of the library. 
You wait at the light before you cross and your heart begins to race the closer you get. Oh no, you don’t know if you can do this. You want to just run away. What if he sees you and changes his mind? I mean, look at you. You’re not some perky coed, you’re... you. 
You stare up at the facade and the large letters over the entrance. You take the first step, then the next. You focus on that. Right foot, left foot. Little things, one at a time. You can do this. You have to. 
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puck-bunny-for-all · 3 days
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Can't Hide Forever - Q.H
@mcdavid97 just posted a story :
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@mcdavid97: Had my social media team get a pic of this girl at our last away game so I could get the internet to do its job and find her for me 💓❤️ been looking for a new wifey 😝😝
↪ Replies :
jackhughes : bro WHAT THE FUCK IS @_quinnhughes girl doing on your story 😤🫨
↪ lexlexdemko : @jackhughes you idiot you aren't supposed to SAY ANYTHING! HE WAS WAITING!
y.user: hi @mcdavid97 um that's me but I have a man who doesnt beat other people 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️
bboeser : @icole28 ready to bust some heads?😬😬
↪ icole28 : time and place @bboser 🤨
↪ y.user : @bboeser @icole28 its ok not everyone knows
↪ lhughes_06 : I dont think that's his point sis...
nicohischier : the devils locker room is going mad with this take it down you low life 🤬🤨🫨
ilyamikheev66 : I got some Russian hitmen still if you want me to call them @jackhughes 🤑🥵
tdemko30 : bud really thought he had something going here 🫨
j.tmiller9 : PLEASE LET ME DROP THE GLOVES ONCE WITH THIS FUCKING IDIOT PLEASE🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻
@_quinnhughes just posted to his story
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_quinnhughes : since some people can't keep their fucking eyes to themselves PSA to anyone and everyone : mention, or look sus at @y.user and believe its on sight with the Canucks. 😤🤬🤬
A.N : GOOOOOOOD EVENING this is based on this request "I was thinking if you could make one with quinny where he's in a relationship and his friends, fam, and teammates know but the world doesn't know, she goes to his games, so hear me out, in one of his games a player of the other team sees her in the crowd and asks his staff to take a pic or something and then he posts it on ig story saying that she's so beautiful and it's looking for her, so obviously hell break loose cuz Quinn connot say anything coz none knows, but eventually he can't take it anymore and makes them public 💖🥰" and "Omggg maybe one of the players that have hit Quinn real hard yk. If it's not too much, the girl can have brownish hair pls"
I ABSOLUTLEY LOVED THIS AND I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT HAPPEN <3
I know the first pic isn't at a hockey game but if we just use our imaginations we can pretend it is.
LOTS OF LOVE AND QUINN HUGHES and I will forever not forgive mr mcdavid the same again after he DARE touch THE MASTERPIECE that is Quinn hughes.
xoxoxoxoxox, M
TAGS: @skylershines
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bunnakit · 1 day
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my stand in ep 4 thoughts, feelings, etc
WOW WA WE WAA THAT SURE WAS AN EPISODE HUH - happy to report i went back through the episode slowly this week and took notes and really tried to gather everything i wanted to say (but i will inevitably forget something)
🌸 ok disclaimers because i have a lot of them for this particular episode 🌸
i'm just a silly guy on the internet, i'm not an expert in mental health, psychology, body language, whatever. most days i can't even take care of myself. i'm just saying things recreationally.
PLEASE do not put novel spoilers in my replies, reblogs, or tags without a warning notice. i've got an itchy blocking finger for it these days.
i am treating ming and joe and everyone involved in this show as if they were real life human beings. ming was not born some mustache twirling villain sent from hell to make joe miserable. joe is not some pure angel descended from the clouds to do no wrong. everyone in this show exhibits very human behavior and that can be distressing under certain circumstances. i'm just going to comment on them as humans. i'm not interested in a round table discussion on why a character is irredeemable, the scum of the earth, etc. i'm just putting my thoughts out there and you can take them or leave them.
🌸 alright yucky disclaimer time over 🌸
the episode really just picks us back up where everything left off - and yet joe still made ming breakfast, and ming isn't stupid (well right now at least,) he knows something is off.
i am confused why tong needs to get married on this specific day. and like bro how fast are you getting married? relax. the whole thing is just unstoppable force (trajectory of this producers career) meets immovable object (tong's fuckass stubbornness) and the collateral damage is massive.
and then there's the question of did joe ever want to play a lead? or did he let his impulsiveness and hurt put a target on his back? (only emphasized by the fact that everyone assumed joe would turn down the role)
i DO apologize for all my doubt surrounding wut. he, ja, and may are the only people in this show with any god damn sense. maybe jojo and yim. we'll see.
getting into the confrontation at joe's work, i really don't think it's that surprising when we keep in mind ming genuinely has no fucking clue what is going on. all he knows is joe woke up, was acting weird, didn't come home, and then told him to pack up his shit and leave with ZERO explanation. like, joe's completely in the right, but i'd also be confused as fuck. (i wouldn't go to someone's work about it but, y'know, we know ming acts in extremes.)
and to me this is where it really became obvious that joe has always been able to overpower ming, to get away from him, as we have seen joe's physical prowess, we've seen what he's capable of, but he never uses his body to move ming away from him - that's not who joe is, he's not someone that would put his hands on another person like that. it's just another way ming and joe are the direct antithesis of each other.
it's my thought that the argument escalates because ming is used to getting everything he wants - except for tong, and now joe. when joe begins to push him away and deny him his substitution for tong i think ming lashes out in his hurt with a thought of "it's happening again, why doesn't anyone want me?"
i will say while i do believe sol has good intentions for the most part his white knighting is getting a little irksome. while convenient, it just shows how much he's still hovering and laying in wait for a chance with joe - he, too, is not respecting joe's wishes. no is a complete sentence, sol.
and then things continue back at home and joe finally, finally throws ming's words back at him: if i'm so terrible to be with, if you're so great, why are you wasting your time with me?
and ming doesn't have an answer. what ming DOES have is another back embrace, arms wrapped around joe as he asks "don't you love me anymore?" but is he asking joe or tong?
"although i'm not as good as tong" even now joe's rampant self worth issues are still at play but at least he finally knows he's worth more than whatever this is.
then the phone rings and to me, ming looks skittish. he looks shaken. he's never seen joe so angry and he's scared and as the call progresses that fear morphs into rage when sol calls joe. and the thing is, regardless of who played the main role, ming was never going to be happy. it was either going to be joe or tong playing opposite sol and neither of those things would have been acceptable.
and then i said, out loud, in my quiet office: OH! and promptly lost my shit in the group chat.
ming doesn't look wholly present after his act of violence. his face is vacant, like he isn't completely seeing or grasping what he's just done. i get the impression that ming isn't mentally well; stress and fear and anger have a way of making people do really fucking stupid things and as these things happen you risk falling into the sunk cost fallacy - you've already gone this far, you can't stop now - which all aligns with the obsessive behavior we've seen from ming in the past.
as joe wakes up and they talk once again joe doesn't blame ming, he blames himself for not seeing the writing on the walls even though it was written in invisible ink.
"all these times we were together did you ever love me?"
"you can't tell?"
again, so much of the blame and emotional responsibility of their situationship is put on joe and ming refuses to communicate any of his feelings, perhaps because he doesn't know how to after repressing everything for so long.
WE DIDN'T GET HOT KINKY CHAINED UP SEX THOUGH, WHY DOES GOD HATE ME SPECIFICALLY
but the way joe looks at ming as they linger there in the wake of joe's request looks like a goodbye, the way his eyes soak in every detail of ming's face. despite all of this and the nightmare it has turned into he did love ming, perhaps still does, and he does have some of those good memories he was so desperate to keep.
though like.. joe.... maybe we could consider a different career path??? instead of just jumping to risking our lives? like sure food service sucks, cashiering sucks, etc. but you aren't in danger of falling off any cliffs, you know? and let's be real, he could just go into modeling with those looks.
it's my impression that when ming calls joe he looks haggard, like he's lost numerous nights of sleep (and we really don't know how much time has passed) but either way it does seem like he's at least done some amount of reflecting. his voice comes across soft, subdued, and sincere.
and after everything, back in the present, we see ming. he's still in the apartment, desperately calling joe's name all these years later, still unable to sleep and waiting for joe to come home just like he asked him to years ago.
maybe ming never wanted to enter the entertainment industry before, but he has now. perhaps it was never for the attention or the money, maybe he chose to promote those watches because it was a reminder of the gift from joe. and maybe this job, in this specific industry, is the closest he can feel to joe now. and maybe with new influence and connections ming can find out why he was never able to tell joe he loved him before he lost him.
WHO KNOWS, NOT ME, CAN'T WAIT TO FIND OUT THO
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ultratradmalewife · 2 days
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I fear I may have spoken too soon. I made a post thinking there would be a turn around in the attitude certain Buddie shippers have towards anyone who doesn’t validate their ship, but I just don’t think they quite understand what they’re doing. Some of them are downplaying their homophobia to only the cutting Lou out of the stills, but when I make claims about that it’s something serious, and not really about some stills. How they handle situations like this will and is affecting real life queer people who aren’t secure in their sexuality.
I’ve seen damaging words tossed around about not just a character but a real man, calling him predatory. I’ve seen real fans slinging the word fetish to other queer fans. These fans have almost always done nothing wrong, most of it only comes from one side (I would know I’m chronically online). And we have major accounts like that deranged Samantha girl (who only recently started celebrating Bucks bisexual journey, wonder why) on Twitter amplifying one single shipper who had a really bad take, and these fans know what they’re doing because they use that one take as a weapon to talk about a fictional relationship, a relationship that is currently in the spotlight with general audiences, and all that audience is seeing is that one rotten apple, that one rotten take, and they’ll form an opinion on not just the ship (I don’t care about the ship), but the community itself. That’s where the homophobia comes in.
Do you really think some still is what would cause us to finally be vocal about how our community is being dragged by these fans who can’t think beyond their ship??? We’re being tagged by these accusations and malice, and you expect us to be quiet about it? I defended my trans sisters all last year on Twitter because transphobes made the same accusations, and none once did I think I would have to see this repeated when entering the fandom.
If anyone is actually here for the right reasons I urge you please shut these people up. It’s getting more personal and more nasty now. Ryan’s racist past is re-emerging because Buddie fans are so hell bent on always calling a fictional man (Tommy) racist whenever they can. It’s not my place to forgive Ryan, but none of this would’ve happened if you gave a new character the same decency you gave an actor. Obviously the real human should always come first, but when it comes to race this is a situation that is too real. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s Buddie shippers actively trying to find something of Lou’s past to smear him, and if they do that’s on him, but this back and forth will only grow more intense by the minute to the point this show will become unenjoyable to everyone. The show brought us together for a reason and I will like to keep it that way, and I urge those bloodthirsty shippers to find that reason again.
(And Buddies what is it with you calling anyone who doesn’t like your ship racist? I’m a Mexican who doesn’t like Buddie because of the stereotype of a catholic gay. Does that make me racist?)
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postal-on-my-dude · 2 days
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We need to talk about the EMH fandom
tldr; long rant on how the emh fandom has a lot of not-so great people in it. Also overlaps with the tribetwelve fandom hence the tags
Recently, being in this fandom, I’ve been seeing a massive influx of discourse over nazis and nazi art. Artists have been putting hate symbols in their HABIT art and EMH art in general. specifically the drawing of one specific artist.
However, I’d like to remind many that this has been going on for a while with many different people in the fandom. So many people in the EMH fandom have admitted to being neo-nazis, and have obsessed over the part of Tribetwelve where HABIT admits he worked with them (which, by the way, was pretty much retconned.) Many say they’ve seen fans of it who have Nazi symbols on their profile, and I’ll admit I’ve seen it as well. Many who do this also do not take it seriously, acting like the Nazis and their symbolism are just some funny cute thing that they can identify with or spread around. In relation to that, users have gotten harassed off servers for even having HABIT or Evan pfps, one stating they were repeatedly called a nazi and people lying and saying their pfp was art by Fvcksnuff, a problematic artist in the fandom. The user was eventually banned after being ridiculed, just for their profile picture being a character. The funny thing is, it wasn’t even HABIT as their profile, it was art of Evan.
Another thing is the romanticism of necrophilia, from specific people headcanoning HABIT as a necrophile and people in the fandom saying they’ve been getting anons asking what they think of the headcanon. The fandom has had a very long history of paraphilia romanticism (necrophilia and zoophilia, mainly), such as the disrespect towards the boundaries of the literal creators and actors, one of them who has specifically stated they DO NOT want rape fanfics of them on ao3. Many people fandom ignore these boundaries, by the way.
Lastly, in relation to that, there’s the sexualization of the actors, which they’ve admitted makes them very uncomfortable, specifically Evan. Please stop sexualizing HABIT or Evan. They may be characters, but a real person plays said characters. Many have acknowledged this and ignored it completely, especially people on Pinterest or tiktok. One of my mutuals has been one to witness and experience this, getting increasingly sexual and creepy comments on his HABIT pins. He’s told people to stop, but people didn’t listen and continued to make him uncomfortable. He admitted that it got so bad he started turning off all comments on his posts since he didn’t want to see those comments anymore. this has also happened on tiktok, where if you go into the comments of any video about habit, they will be overly sexual and explicit, even if the topic of the video isnt inherently sexual.
It’s not just a vocal minority. This fandom has a LOT of awful people just hiding around in it.
The fandom recently has been a dumpster fire of discourse upon discourse, and it’s disheartening to see. Harassment, threats, and general discord. II’d like to say that instead of arguing and arguing, we drive the people who do this out of the fandom. If you want a better community in this fanbase, you need to do something to MAKE it better.
If you have anything other problem about this fandom you think I should research and add to the post, please share.
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chemdisaster · 5 months
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scaribeans teamup in last life where grian and joel are bloodthirsty reds and scar is the dark green who helps them kill people
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never change, man !
#phantom of the paradise#potp#swan potp#nightmaretheater#65 layers and about 24 hours . Eeeyyuppp#Look into my beautiful mind boy#Its a bit unusual to what i usually draw#but i had to push a specific look for this piece#hopefully you all are picking up on the corperate look . the advertisment look#Sneeze. Anyways my point is industry destroys creative people. This includes swan#I feel like phrases like these ; how he was put on a pedistal…. it lead him to be Like That#as awful as he is he desperately needed help#it might seem like vanity on the surface#but i think its… more than that#long story short: we need to destroy the beauty industry. the skincare industry. the anti-aging industry#It ruined his psyche forever and he cant let go of the ideal version of himself he will never truly be again#i dont think he can at this point. hes in too deep and hes suffering for it no matter how much he feels hes fixed his problems#he cant accept a version of himself that isnt that perfect young man. because he never confronted his problems. he just ran away#anyways . Hi swath *punches him**kicks him*#i dont care if nobody gets me lalalalla my truths and headcanons are awesome forever and i live in my own reality lallaallal#sorry i think im gonna be posting about swan alot for a few months hes making me sick#i wass gonna post this earlier but my internet was real bad#*lays down in my pile of pillows* eat up boys. haha#sidenote: drawing white blond people is horrifiying. Boy your skin and hair are the same color. Introduce some contrast to yourself. Please#adding on: its inportant to note this focuses on him looking st himself in the mirror alot on purpouse#to remind himself what he ‘’’’really’’’’ looks like#the 4 middle pannels all represent that too . u have to be in my brain ri get this#sorry for unleashijg another swan essay in my tags. will happen again lol
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introspectivememories · 3 months
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22 seconds.... max was ahead by 22 seconds.... like these teams know that this sport is utterly boring if the cars are not neck to neck racing right??? like forget about redbull dominance or whatever. mercedes was dominating for years and it wasn't boring. yknow why? cause there was still a chance that someone else could win. and then someone else did win!!! and love it or hate it, you cannot deny that it was interesting. this is boring cause no one else is competing!! all the other cars are dogshit and it's boring!!! the williams car bluescreened, charles has no brakes, lewis' seat broke, whatever the fuck that's going on with alpine.... what is even the point?? 22 seconds... like what do i even say??? might as well just cancel the season
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stellerssong · 3 months
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Hi again. I'm on some level here to ask for a complete explanation of every aspect of Hawaiian culture that is even tangentially related to your latest fic because I know absolutely nothing and there is the ever present concern that the terms run through cursory Google Translate and internet searching will lose nuance and implications. There were definitely some references to divinities and myths and such that went over my unenlightened head. The story you wove was rich and intricate enough to be held in the mind of someone who knows less than nothing and still have great meaning and truth, but I know that it will mean yet more if I can see the threads you used to make it. (On another level, I'm asking for the explanation because I am abruptly deeply interested in a topic I had previously not thought about very much, and you seem to be significantly more of an expert than the average internet search.)
first off! well first off i am blowing you so many kisses for this very kind ask, thank you so much for giving me an excuse to ramble at (great, great, great) length.
so second off! i would just like to stress that i am very much not an expert in hawaiian language, folklore, history, culture, etc. i am neither kānaka maoli (native hawaiian) nor kamaʻāina (born in hawaiʻi although not necessarily of hawaiian ancestry), and i have not studied these topics formally/in a setting that applies academic rigor. i am an enthusiastic amateur with a personal connection to hawaiian culture, the kind of brain that likes to fixate on areas of interest, and a willingness to scrounge around for reading material. i have, i think, a decent sense of what some of the baseline texts in the field are, and a fairly good bullshit detector (and the understanding/ability to dig into things when i can't rely on the bullshit detector), but ultimately i am a layman and an outsider with corresponding perspectives and biases. i also, i will admit frankly, have a pretty sharp knowledge cutoff corresponding to the time of first european contact, just because of my own personal interests and reading preferences.
read that whole disclaimer? let your eyes glaze over while you skimmed it? good! here's my real quick (lmao) rundown of Sum Things U Should Know If You Wanna Close-Read Kīpuka:
ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi 101
Good grief when I put it like that I do NOT feel qualified to tell you any of this. Anyway. We can keep it basic just so you can get a sense of the mouthfeel of the words. And just fyi ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi is the proper name of the language; i'll be using "Hawaiian" as the adjective form, sans ʻokina, assuming an English-speaking readership.
ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi as it is commonly rendered today has 13 letters: 5 vowels (A, E, I, O, and U) and 7 consonants (H, K, L, M, N, P, W), plus the ʻokina or glottal stop (that little apostrophe-lookin' dude at the beginning of the word ʻokina, also the source of most of my typesetting woes). Pronunciation-wise, there are no silent letters and no though/through/enough-type surprises: every letter is pronounced, and all of the vowel renderings are approximately equivalent to how you'd pronounce them in Spanish or Italian. Hence, the word kuahine = koo-ah-HEE-nay rather than, like, kyoo-ah-highn, which made me feel gross even just typing it out.
The ʻokina is pronounced, and bear with me here, like the dash in the english nuh-uh. or, if you're a try-hard vocalist—reattack the vowel after the ʻokina instead of eliding it to the vowel prior. So the place-name Kaʻū is pronounced ka-OO, as distinct from the word kau which is pronounced more like kow (which is a bit of an oversimplification of the latter word, but I'm trying to be efficient here).
That leads us neatly into the other diacritical marking used in ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi, the kahakō or macron which helpfully appears in its own name. No worries here; the kahakō just serves as a stress marker, so you'd say kahakō = ka-ha-KO instead of ka-HA-ko, or from the example above ka-OO rather than KA-oo.
There are a couple of other little pronunciation tricks here and there. The letter W is sometimes pronounced as a V, and unfortunately I can't really describe the rules for that shift; that is one I must admit I know mostly from vibes. For example, the correct pronunciation of Hawaiʻi itself is ha-VAI-ee, but I've never heard the place-name Waimea pronounced as anything but why-MEY-ah.
Occasionally you will encounter the letter K pronounced as a T, which I believe is an artifact of the morphological shift from older related languages such as Tahitian and Samoan which do preserve the letter T as a unique phoneme. To my knowledge, the Kauaʻi dialect (spoken today on Niʻihau) also preserves the T, but most spoken ʻŌlelo Hawaiʻi heard elsewhere is based on the Big Island dialect, which lacks the T. One notable exception is the word tūtū (an affectionate/respectful term for a grandparent or elder), which you really don't hear pronounced as kūkū.
Really, though, listening to Hawaiian music is how I got the language in my ear and imo it's the best way to get it in yours. Can't go wrong with Israel Kamakawiwoʻole (of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" fame), but I have a personal soft spot for Kealiʻi Reichel, Weldon Kekauoha, Amy Hanaialiʻi, and the Cazimero Brothers.
The Place-y-ness of Hawaiian Literature
This is more of a sidenote than its own heading, but I'm the one driving the essay, and I think it's an interesting thing to point out, just because it helps establish a particular perspective I wanted to keep in mind while writing this fic.
Something you might notice as you start to look at Hawaiian oli, mele, and myth is the high level of specificity of place. Hawaiʻi is, let's be honest, not that enormous of a place when you consider it on a global scale—but the specificity of localities within Hawaiian literature is kind of astounding. Not only are there loads of place-names referenced in any given work, there are unique Hawaiian names for landmarks, cliffs, peaks, hills, streams, waterfalls—even rains and winds of specific locations merit their own names.
"kīpuka" is very specifically set on the windward side of Hawaiʻi island, so I made an effort to focus my references to place-names on that region—Hilo, ʻŌlaʻa, and Waiākea are all locations on the eastern side of the island, and the one reference to Kona on the leeward side reflects the coming of someone bearing grievances (in addition to eia aʻe ka makani Kona being an existing idiom warning the listener to watch out for an angry person, the windward and leeward sides of Hawaiʻi island have a long history of territorial warfare and jockeying for control of the island). I'd also considered having the bird discussed in the fic be a different species, the kākāwahie—but that species is/was endemic to Molokaʻi, and quite honestly my knowledge of the history and culture of Molokaʻi as a separate polity is not that great.
(This is partly due to sample bias—my introduction to Hawaiʻi was within a Big Island-based context. At the same time, another thing you may notice about the better-known source texts is that many of them center around Hawaiʻi island and, to a lesser extent, Maui, thanks to the political supremacy during the unification/post-contact era of Hawaiʻi island and Maui aliʻi. Ross Cordy wrote a whole ass book about the Oʻahu chiefdoms that is simply not to be had for love or money no matter how I search for it. I am THIS CLOSE to straight up cold emailing the man and being like I WILL VENMO YOU $75 USD DIRECTLY IF YOU WILL SIMPLY JUST SEND ME A COPY OF YOUR BOOK. PLEASE. SAVE ME ROSS CORDY.)
Girl (Gender Neutral), I Cannot Explain Hawaiian Mythology, Poetics, and Mythopoetics As a Subheading in One Post
Honestly. I can't do it. But some tidbits to assist your further research:
A great deal of Hawaiian literature and oral tradition hinges on kaona, roughly "allusion" or "metaphor." In a description that is useful to precisely no one but myself, it's not unlike the complex plays on words, puns, and deep well of references used in Heian Japanese epistolary poetry. Some of it is easy to grok for newbies: for example, the concept of one's lover as a lei adorning the body, or being splashed or sprinkled with water as a euphemism for sex. Some of it goes a lot deeper, relying on historical or folkloric place-name associations, puns, and ancient practices and superstitions.
The Hawaiian "pantheon" I place in scare quotes because ancient Hawaiian religious practices and superstition were highly syncretic, often extremely localized, and more contradictory the more you read into it. In a very, very, very, VERY rough and off-the-cuff sense, though, there were thought to be four major gods: Kāne (associated with dawn, the sun, the sky, running freshwater, and irrigation-based agriculture, among other things), Kanaloa (associated with the ocean, sea creatures, and sometimes death, as an opposing or complimentary force to Kāne), Lono (god of fertility, agriculture with something of an emphasis on dryland agriculture, rainfall, and peace as embodied in the Makahiki festival), and Kū (god of war, the deified kingship, fishermen, sorcery, and quite honestly a ton of other things in various manifestations).
There were also quite a large number of "lesser" gods, the word "lesser" used just in the sense that they weren't honored to the same extent as the four previously named in state-sanctioned religious practice. Probably the most well-known of these is Pele, the volcano goddess. (I reference another in the fic, Niolopua, god of sleep—but the jury's out on whether or not that refers to an actual god or is just metaphorical in the same way that most people think of "the Sandman" as a euphemism for sleep and not a literal guy who comes into your house and puts crusties in your eyes.)
The gods were thought to manifest in a variety of forms, called kino lau (literally "four hundred bodies"). You can think of this in the sense of "Lono takes on the shape of an albatross or a tropicbird to interact with mortals, while Kanaloa prefers to manifest as an octopus," and in stories kino lau are sometimes represented that way, but in practice it's less of a Greek myth-style practice of shapeshifting and more of an animistic religious belief. The kino lau in nature embody the god and in a metaphorical sense illustrate the interconnection between divine and earthly and the presence of the divine on earth.
(HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. HUGE OVERSIMPLIFICATION. PLEASE DO MORE RESEARCH AND DO NOT TAKE ONE TUMBLR POST AT ITS WORD ON THIS.)
The Endless, in the fic, are very easy to loop into the concept of kino lau, because of their canonical universality. Danny appears as a shark (a symbol of chiefhood), a pueo, or Hawaiian owl (an 'aumakua, or ancestral guardian), a manu-o-Kū, or fairy tern (a bird associated with the god Kū, likely in his aspect as a god of fishermen, navigators, and wayfinders), a kalo plant (a staple crop of ancient Hawaiʻi, a kino lau of Kāne, and a symbol of duality and rebirth), and a snowcapped mountain (a sacred site considered kapu, or forbidden, to all but the highest chiefly individuals). Despair, meanwhile, appears as an ʻalae ʻula, or Hawaiian moorhen (another ʻaumakua, but also an animal whose cry was thought to foretell misfortune), a stingray (for her barbed tail), a hāpuʻu fern (in contrast to Dream's kalo, the hāpuʻu was considered a famine food), a lava flow and its first growths (acknowledging Pele as both a destroyer and a creator of land, just as Despair also embodies hope), and a number of other things meant to embody the devastation of Hawaiʻi (rats, feral pigs, and mosquitoes have decimated endemic birds and insects; the kiawe is an invasive plant species that forms dense, thorny, and difficult-to-destroy groves; light pollution affects behavior and migratory patterns of both avian and aquatic species).
All pretty simple, obviously!
Further Resources and Recs
Okay, so, obviously I'm not going to be able to explain every single reference in this fic in a single post, though I obviously tried my damnedest. In lieu of that, I'll offer some useful resources for further reading:
Stephen Trussel's Combined Hawaiian Dictionary is a fantastic resource for vocab that incorporates several major Hawaiian dictionaries in a straightforward (well, as straightforward as this gets) text-based web page. Ulukau also has a searchable interface, which is a little easier to interact with, but I like having the Trussel for reference.
Huapala is everyone's go-to for translations of Hawaiian lyrics. I've linked to it in the endnotes of the fic for readers interested in more on "Ka Ipo Lei Manu," but it's got nearly any ʻauana-style Hawaiian song you please, and if I recall correctly even a few traditional oli. Again, another slightly old-fashioned text-based site—but we all know how to use CMD + F in a page, do we not?
Native Books is awesome if you, like me, prefer reading things in print but would prefer not to feed your dollars into the maw of the Amazon beast. A lot of the lit on Hawaiʻi was printed either a long time ago or in very small releases and is now out-of-print and difficult to find even in libraries, so it rocks that there's an independent bookseller that specializes in getting those works to an audience in hard copy. @ NATIVE BOOKS PLEASE CONSIDER GETTING ROSS CORDY TO RE-PRINT THE RISE AND FALL OF THE OʻAHU KINGDOM THANK YOU SO MUCH. University of Hawaiʻi Press is also a good source for academic texts, although their website is...mm...difficult to navigate, and do be warned that they charge academic press prices.
In terms of who to read, you really can't go wrong with Mary Kawena Pukui, a Native Hawaiian scholar, author, composer, and educator whose work is the backbone of just, a fuckton of writing about Hawaiʻi, both academic and popular. Her book ʻŌlelo Noʻeau: Hawaiian Proverbs and Poetical Sayings is worth at least a skim just to get the feel of the Hawaiian mindset; it also contains a healthy dose of myth, folklore, and history in the explanations of the sayings. Absolutely adorably, I've found two books she edited that I read the absolute FUCK out of as a child available as PDFs through Ulukau: The Water of Kāne and Other Legends of the Hawaiian Islands and Hawaiʻi Island Legends: Pīkoi, Pele, and Others. Definitely worth a quick read if you want more on the myth side of things.
As a non-specialist, I've really enjoyed Patrick Vinton Kirch's writing on precontact Hawaiʻi. For a field archaeologist, his writing is both highly engaging and very respectful of the peoples he studies, and trust me, I do get my back up easily when it comes to white people writing about Other Cultures TM, so I'd posit it means something that he passes my sniff test. A Shark Going Inland is My Chief is a great overview of the history of the Hawaiian chiefdoms from the first settlement of the islands to immediately precontact, and Kuaʻāina Kahiko offers a bit of a closer look at everyday life in a specific locality in the islands (in this case, Kahikinui, Maui).
Kamehameha and His Warrior Kekūhaupiʻo by Stephen Desha (trans. Frances N. Frazier) began its life as a serialized Hawaiian-language history of the rise of Kamehameha I. It's a dense read, and it WILL test your ability to remember who the hell all these people are to its limit—it mostly discusses the lives and times of the major players of the aliʻi class in the late precontact–early postcontact era, and when you remember that a) a hell of a lot of personal names in this tale begin with the letter K and b) the aliʻi class of Hawaiʻi practiced a mindboggling amount of political marriage, consanguineous marriage, and sanctioned adoption between blood relatives, the family trees get real complicated REAL fast. If you can hang on through all that, though, it's an intensely detailed and very vivid portrait of a culture at a tumultuous moment, it gives a great sense of how the Hawaiians viewed themselves and the world, and it's an interesting exercise in the mythologizing of the Kamehameha dynasty.
Okay, So...?
So...if you hung on through all that, god DAMN are you dedicated. Have what is quite possibly my favorite Hawaiian song for your trouble. It is, funnily enough, about a bird.
EDIT: I am retroactively making this post unrebloggable. I'm really, really glad folks have found it interesting and are looking into the resources I shared, but I absolutely do not want this getting passed around as Hawaiian Culture 101. If you want to learn more about Hawaiʻi, I must stress that you should look to a reputable source and not some schmuck on Tumblr rambling about her effortposting fanned fiction.
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zappedbyzabka · 10 months
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Okay…
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batfamfixation · 22 days
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Actually? Fuck all of the people trying to gatekeep comic book characters that exist in other media. Acting like people can only form opinions about characters based on the comics is bullshit. If someone likes the Teen Titans because of the TV show instead of taking the time to read the thousands of comics "required" to be a "real fan" of those characters, good for them. If someone likes the Young Justice or Justice League cartoons and wants to talk about their love of those characters, they should. If Batman from Batman the Animated Series is a person's favorite version of Batman and their comfort character, GOOD FOR THEM.
This need to gatekeep comic book characters that appear in other media is fucking gross. If someone loves Batman and says he's a great guy because of how he's depicted outside of modern comics, then they're not a "fake" Batman fan, they just love a version of Batman that you don't care about. The same goes for all of the other DC shows and movies. People are allowed to love versions of characters that exist outside of comics and call themselves a fan of that character.
Stop. Gatekeeping. Fictional. Characters
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zodarii-dae · 1 year
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pantala headcanon! i like to think that most dragons still speak a bit of the old language. like, parents talk in it when they don't want the dragonets to know something. dragons call their s/o old language pet names.
it would be most common for leafwings, and least common for hivewings (bc wasp doesn't like anything from before the tree wars), but everyone knows at least a couple words. you ofc have a few nerds who are fluent (probs cricket; i imagine she heard it a lot at home, what with cadele being a history teacher. she probably wanted to impress her by learning it. katydid would study with her; malachite also totally knew it).
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caterpillarinacave · 1 month
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So you choose not to step through the door, after all why mess with nonsense when you're already in nonsense? You check the items in your pockets, your phone you shut off to conserve power, the dog tag, key and top clink together but offer no help, and when you fiddle with the walkie-talkie you manage to get it to turn on, excitedly you call out to the void but only static responds, which is disappointing but predictable, so you put the items away and hunker down for the night, looking at the sky you can see that the stars seem strange, though you're no expert, and the moon seems to have a second smaller moon near it which looks pretty cool but is a stark reminder of how not on your own world your predicament has landed you.
In the morning you begin looking through the nearby bushes and plant life taking note of anything strange, you notice the berries you had been picking before you stepped through the door are also growing around here, they look and taste the same, and some other plants seem pretty similar to the forest from before as well, although the further away from the door you go the more unfamiliar plants you come across (of course that may just be your lack of familiarity with plants) and the few animals you have noticed are bizarre in a way that you can't explain, like the people from town, they seem almost perfectly familiar, just a little off and the noises they make have you thinking they wouldn't be able to communicate with their counterparts either, brushing aside another branch you come across a strange funnel made of metal which you pocket and what looks to be a regular whistle, you wipe it down and blow but hear nothing aside from the air going through, you consider it is either broken or maybe a dog whistle, as you go to put it away you hear something big running in your direction, before you can decide how to react a large creature storms out of the bushes and stops in the clearing before you, it's huge as a horse with paws and sharp teeth it licks as it looks around and spots you, it shakes its head again reminding you of a horse, then steps closer before turning and staring expectantly, you get the feeling it's waiting on you, impatiently, and you realize it seems to expect you to get on its back. Do you get on?
Yes.
#I am a terrible terrible Irish child#Clearly all those folk tales whose only moral was “don’t climb on the strange horse” were lost on me. Technically not a horse though. So. H#Uh please don’t run into the bog with my on your back strange horse thing.#…This may be one of my worse ideas#On one hand moving away from what appears to be the only connection my world doesn’t sound like a great idea#Back through the door is logically the the best bet. However I’ve already explored the area#The only thing to do would be to just sit there for hours and that will get me nowhere. The things that do have leads like the walkie-#Sputtering are things to pay attention to but not things that are likely to change if I don’t move. The whistle is the newest thing-#And let’s be real I’ve been in the bramble for like 14 hours without the neurospicy meds I am teetering on dangerously antsy#Probably better to get on the horse before I come up with something more stupid#It’s interesting my world flora seems to surround the door. I wish I’d payed more attention before I stepped through#If the nearby flora on the other side seemed like it would come from this world it would suggest that the door just leaks between universes#In two ways. If it’s earths flora then it’s either only leaking one way which we could no from one step through#Or - which we will not know but should pay attention for if we step into some other world - if the earths flora shows up around EVERY porta#Which would suggest earth is the base in some way#It might be beneficial to climb a tree to try and see farther out#Though I don’t exactly get many opurtunited to haul myself up a tree so I would put to much stock in a)my upper body strength#And b) my ability to chose a tree that won’t kill me#It’s defintley worth taking in as much info as possible. I’ll try and notice things like different winds gravity tempature ect#What should i tag this all. Help I got lost in a blackberry bush? Anon who takes me to alternate planes of reality?#I know#Guys I got lost in a bush#That’s a good one. Nothing weird there at all.#FINE I’ll rage it “guys I got lost in a blackberry bush”#I wonder what makes things so familiar. Perhaps this world exists very closely to the other. Perhaps they’ve crossed paths before.#Perhaps they’ve shown up in our dreams. Perhaps I have bad memory and my brain gaslights itself into thinking everything’s familiar#I wonder maybe the horse is a horse/dog thing- that would explain the likeness to the dog whistle (?)#This can’t get any worse I say doing something that could very much make it worse#Eh what’s the worst that can happen. At least I don’t have to pay taxes in this world#Guys I got lost in a black berry bush
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arthur-r · 20 days
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testosterone meeting complete?!?!?!?!???!!!
#it went well the doctor was so much better than any doctor i’ve met ever in my life#treated me like a human being?? was familiar with my pre-existing conditions??#saw autism on my chart and just acknowledged it and moved on?? no ‘‘are you sure you’re trans you’re just a confused autistic kid’’ ??!!#i have an informed consent paper to look at now but it’s all stuff i’ve already researched#i have officially decided that T is more important to me than biological children so we got this#(i was already basically there but i had an anxiety spiral a couple months ago about freezing my eggs which i’ve confirmed was just anxiety#‘​‘just anxiety’’ i sound like a fucking evil doctor but like. intrusive-thoughts-anxiety vs thing-i-should-listen-to. i don’t want bio kids#the one thing i’m nervous about is my singing voice i wanna make sure i get some recordings in before my voice changes#cause my voice isn’t mine but i’ve sure worked hard on it shdhdf and it has a high pitched anxious quality to it that you can’t often find#shdhdhf i just feel like the voice i have now is more unique than wherever i’m gonna end up. and i really want to sound like my favorite cis#men musicians but i feel like my anxious songs just won’t hit the same if it sounds like some guy is singing them#so i’m gonna make some recordings within the next month to put out pre-T demo versions of my songs (real demos not what i’m always posting)#and then i’ll be ready. cause i want to sound like some weird shitty man SO BAD. please just let me be some off-key guy with voice cracks#TO BE CLEAR i would sure like to be a talented singer on testosterone. which has happened for one of my dearest friends and can probably#also happen for me. if i keep working on my voice all the time. BUT i would rather have a shitty low voice than a beautiful high one#which i did a lot of thinking about and grappling with since i’m a vocalist and it’s kind of really important to me#but half the male musicians i listen to can’t even hold a tune. so I CAN HANDLE IT#anyway!! i’m going to latin now!! and then i have work and then asexual club and then heading home and maybe laundry#i hope everybody has a good day and i love you dearly#me. my post. mine.#delete later#medical cw#(? ask to tag)
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