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just-another-t-word-blog · 9 months ago

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Real Laugh

A Hazbin Hotel fanfiction

Okay so, I saw this fanart done by @kalico-of-doom while scrolling around the other day and I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO WRITE A FANFIC ABOUT IT. Otherwise the nonsense deep in my bones will consume me.

As always on my blog, serving up fresh hot garbage semi regularly, ⚠️⚠️ this is in fact a tickle fic. Don’t like, don’t read. Thank you.

Summary: Alastor thinks he’s funny, Angel thinks he should give him something to laugh about.

Self satisfied laughter rang through the sitting room in the hotel foyer. Alastor nudged Angel with his elbow, trying (unsuccessfully) to get him to join in. He’d been rattling off puns for the better part of 20 minutes now, causing most of the hotel residents to vacate the contaminated area. Angel, however, was trapped.

Not physically trapped, mind you, but he didn’t want to leave the powerful demon alone, fearing he may get upset. A happy Alastor was a safe Alastor, and Angel was not about to open that can of worms.

“Oh! I have another one,” Alastor said, smiling widely. “If you don’t mind the crassness, of course. What is the difference between an unclean bus stop, and a lobster with breast implants?” Angel sighed, but engaged, resting his chin in his palm and looking at his companion. “I don’t know, what?”

“One is a crusty bus station, and the other is a busty crustacean!” The red head broke into another fit of laughter, sounding as if he was faking it for a radio audience. This joke at least earned a smile from Angel, albeit a reluctant one. Alastor trailed off, turning to face the porn star more fully. “Oh, come now, why so serious?” Angel shook his head, offering a more exaggerated smile. “Hey, I did laugh at that one.”

“You smiled, my dear arachnid. I’d say that’s hardly laughter.” Angel scoffed, dropping the grin. “Maybe if you were actually funny, I’d laugh.” Alastor raised an eyebrow. “I am funny.”

This earned a genuine laugh from Angel. “Considering that’s the funniest thing you’ve said all day, I disagree.” He said, crossing his top set of arms. “Well, I disagree as well.” Alastor said, crossing his legs. “I’ve been laughing this entire time, so I’d say I’m pretty funny.”

“Funny looking, maybe.” Angel retorted, mocking his signature grin. “Besides, all I’ve been hearing is your fakey laugh.”

Alastor turned again. “Fakey?” He placed a hand on his chest, as if wounded. “That is simply untrue and hurtful, Angel. My laugh is genuine.”

“There is no way in any circle of hell that you actually laugh like that.”

Alastor gave a half hearted chuckle at that. Angel pointed. “See? No one fucking laughs like that. You sound like you’re reading off of a queue card!” Alastors smile faltered, going a little crooked. The two sat in silence for a moment, stewing.

“How’s about this one?” Alastor chimed. “What do you call a cow with two legs?” Angel gave him a flat look. “Lean beef!” Just as Alastor finished, Angel lunged, tackling the radio demon to the floor. They struggled, Alastor letting out a surprised yelp as the younger demon grappled for dominance. Having a weight disadvantage, Angel attempted to straddle his waist, only managing a half perch with one leg trapped under him, fighting Alastors wild bucking. He leaned forward, grabbing his upper arms from the underside and pushing them up, pressing his body weight into the hold. Alastors ears bristled, antlers threatening to grow and spike. “Enough with the bad jokes. What do you say we see what your real laugh sounds like?” A confused look crossed Alastors eyes.

With another set of arms, Angel dug clawed fingers into his ribs. Alastor gasped, holding the breath. He looked up at Angel, signature grin wobbling, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head to the side. Then, Angel lightened his touch.

The dam broke.

A stream of high pitched giggles erupted from the radio demon. Unrestrained, uncontrolled.

But most shockingly, happy.

Angel felt his face tinge red, a fond smile forming. He carefully scribbled his nails up and down Alastors rib cage, following his squirming. “Now that is a real laugh.” He cooed. He shifted his hands downwards, focusing on the skin where Alastors ribs turned into his sides. The older demon squealed before falling into more frantic laughter. His one free leg flailed about, the heel of his shoe scraping against the floor. “Woah there,” Angel teased, picking up the pace on his scratching. “You’ll wear a hole in the carpet! Niftys going to have a fit.” Alastor worked up the gall to look him in the eye.

“Fuck you!”

Unfortunately, the giggles took all the venom from his voice. Angel laughed. “I don’t know what your deal is, but you don’t need to swear at me! It’s not like you’ve asked me to stop!” A deep red blush painted Alastors face, eyes going wide for a split second before melting into another round of laughter. He finally spoke. “No! No, please-“ his pleading cut off with a yelp, Angel having gave his sides an experimental squeeze. “Ah-ha!” Angel exclaimed. “Another spot, jeez you’re just sensitive everywhere, aren’t you?” Alastor stuttered, trying to get out that he absolutely was not. To be fair, English is hard, and it’s substantially harder when most of your breath is being used for other things.

Angel paused his ministrations and grinned, catching Alastors eye. He brought out his third set of arms.

Shit.

Alastor began to plead again, shaking his head frantically. He was unable to keep the mirth from his voice. “No! Please, no more! I’m sorry, okay? I’ll stop with the puns!” His eyes never left that extra set, watching the wiggling claws hovering over him. “Aww, the big bad radio demon is begging now?” Angels voice dripped with playful sarcasm. Suddenly, he lunged all four free hands down.

Alastor shrieked.

And nothing happened. Alastor peered up at Angel, confused. The porn star had broken into his own stream of cackling, hunched over with his hands hovering inches away from Alastors skin. “I didn’t even touch you! What in the hells was that noise?!” Alastor made an incredulous face, for once his signature grin absent. “That sound was absolutely adorable.” Angel said, wiping a tear from his eye. “Do it again?” He lunged again, this time making contact. One set of hands scribbling up and down his ribs and sides while the others dug into his tummy. Alastor shrieked again (much to his dismay), falling into loud belly laughter. He threw his head back, unable to control himself through the onslaught. He yanked on his restrained arms, kicked with his free leg, and tossed his head side to side. He finally had enough.

Two black tendrils appeared behind his tormenter, wrapping around his middle and dragging him backwards off of Alastor. Angel screamed in surprise, flailing at the sudden jolt. Alastors tendrils held Angel there on the floor while he caught his breath, slowly sitting up. He smoothed his hair with his hands, taking a few deep breaths before putting on his sinister smile. “That was fun and all,” he said, standing to make his way towards Angel, “but I think it’s time to give you a taste of your own medicine.”

————

Charlie watched with teary eyes and a soft smile as her friends played. Hidden just around the corner, she had stopped to make sure no one was getting hurt. She had heard Alastor screaming and came running, finding a much more welcome sight.

Knowing neither of them were used to positive touch, she let them horse around. It might be good for them, after all.

Maybe she should find a way to work this into a lesson plan.

#tickling #tickle fic #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel tickle #play fighting #fluff

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voxmortuus · 1 year ago

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Can i request a roman godfrey x plus!size reader. Maybe she is the new girl or Peter's sister or cousin that moved there because of her Father’s job or something and roman becomes obsessed with her or something and he dose all this because he is in love with her and just a really fluffy ending pls

I just want to say I am SO sorry for this taking as long as it did to produce! I have been feeling so out of sorts with my writing and I had taken a super long hiatus. I found this half written in my drafts and felt I NEEDED to finish this! So, Here it is! The finished piece!!! I hope it finds you well.

PAIRING: Roman Godfrey x Fem!Plus Sized!Reader - Reader is 18+

UNIVERSE: Hemlock Grove

WORDS: 1.1K

SUMMARY/PROMPT: See above

TRIGGER WARNINGS: Obsessive Roman | Stalking Insinuated | Fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this…

NOTE: Sorry if this isn't what you expected, or had envisioned yourself, I apologize. But I hope you enjoyed my vision.

IMAGE CREDIT: Google I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP OF THESE IMAGES. If these are yours or you know who the creator(s) is please INBOX me and let me know. Thank you.

DIVIDER CREDIT: @firefly-graphics

My Master Masterlist | Taglist

Welcome to Hemlock Grove - That's what the sign read as you entered the town. Remote, and almost nothing here. Rubbing your face you look around and take in the bare land from the death of winter. Your father had gotten a job working at The Godfrey Institute. Unknowing what was in store for you you take this as a new opportunity to reinvent yourself, to start fresh in the way of hoping for a new beginning.

Making your way inside your new home with the last box for your room, you place it down on your bed and look out the window that looks over the street that leads to Godfrey Manor. Making a small face in slight disgust, you let off a small sigh and start putting things away.

It wasn't long before you hear a knock at your bedroom door, and it was your father asking you if you'd like to go with him to see where he works. Shrugging you had agreed to go. The way you saw it was it got you out of the house and around civilization. Grabbing your coat you throw your hair up into a loose bun and follow him to the car.

Your father didn't work far from your new home, so it was less than a few moments before you found yourself in the elevator on your way to the top floor to look around your father's new place of work. Looking around for a moment you look up at your father and tell him you're going to look around.

As you wander off you find yourself in the rather large conference room. Little to your knowledge you are being watched, by Mr. Godfrey himself. Watching you as your fingers graze against the solid wood table, across the leather backing of the chairs. Watching you as you look so unamused and so done with today that you're ready to go home.

You weren't like the others that had come in and out of here, you were shaped differently, you were a snack, in a matter of ways. While you questioned yourself sometimes, you were truly a beautiful person. Even when you didn't see yourself that way. Looking at your reflection off the surface of the table, he let out a breath, push the loose stray hairs back into place, and look around once more before wandering out.

He follows you and watches you. It was that moment he knew that you, you were it. That something different in his life, that spark he felt he's been missing. That itch he's been needing to scratch and could never find the right tool to scratch it. Roman knew that you were going to change his way of thinking when it all boiled down to it.

Spring is here, it's been five months since the move, and you've become settled, relatively. But something's been going on. You've been getting flowers and other little gifts off and on for the past three or so months. It's regular, on queue, and it never changes, once, every two weeks, a fresh bouquet of something different, and either a card, or a little trinket, be it a charm, a piece of something to wear, or a small stuffed animal accompanies this bouquet. Today, was no different.

Lurking in the distance, as he always had from the moment you met, you let out a soft yet slightly heavy breath and you look down at the flowers that sat on your doorstep. "What the heck…" you say softly. Pushing your lips to one side you look around and you pick up the sunflower and rose bouquet and pull it to your face and take in a deep inhale and smiled with a slightly somber look on your face. "THANK YOU!" You call out before you walk in and close the door.

The flowers become a regular thing, and you start visiting the office a little more, the light anonymous things putting you in a mood of happiness and genuine love. You feel this love and you don't know how to channel it, so you start bringing your father lunch at work, and you start talking to his co-workers. But it's when you meet his boss that your own heart begins to beat a little funny. You give a slightly goofy giggle, clear your throat, put your head down, and walk away.

It was his scent, you knew that scent. It was on the stuffed bear you had received with a bouquet of peonies not long ago. You excuse yourself and make your way out of the building. Running your hands down your thick thighs you lean against your little beat-up volkswagon bug and you feel your heart beating miles a minute. Shaking your head you look up at the building and burst into laughter. Why? No? Really? Was it him?

You look back down, and you lean against your car a little more, and before you had a moment to really recall everything you see him approaching from your peripheral vision. Licking your plump lips you look over at him and draw in a deep breath.

"Has it been you?" you ask. "Since the beginning." He stated "But why?" you ask him. "Why couldn't you tell me? I come in to bring him lunch every day and you couldn't tell me?" "I didn't know how. I was in awe of you." Roman admitted. "Mr. Godfrey--" "Roman, please, call me Roman." He stated. "Roman." you pause a moment. "I am nothing to be in awe about, my curves have curves, I'm far too out of your realm of normal woman, I'm just--" "Perfect. You're perfect and you don't see it Y/N. You won't see it, but I want to help you see it… if you'll let me." He smiled. "Let me take you out tonight. There's this cute little coffee shop in town, join me?" He asked.

Charming, he was charming, and he was sweet. Nodding your head you had agreed to his proposal of coffee. He holds out his hand and you place yours in his. Your hand feels so small in his, you feel like you're about the size of a damn munchkin from The Wizard of Oz. But it feels good. You feel good.

Sitting in the coffee shop after you two walk a little ways from the building you find yourself enthralled in each other, in the conversation, the mindless nothing of conversation that has led to laughter, and genuine raw emotions between you. Nothing but calm, cherished moments. Sure, people stared, but he never took his eyes off you, his attention was on you. You were important to him.

What really made you feel on top of the world, was when he reached forward and tucked some hair behind your ear, helped you up, and walked back to the building with you. From that day on, you realized that you are perfectly imperfect and that no matter what, you are beautiful, and because of Roman, seeing yourself as anything less, that's just not possible anymore.

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brandwhorestarscream · 24 days ago

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You have no idea how much I needed VERY sick and pregnant Megatron in my life. Him begging not to throw up and just being miserable was something I didn't know I wanted but now I know. You've opened my eyes.

Little cogless miners are so small and adorable. They're so tiny 😭🥰

Orion Pax is such a smug little shit (affectionate) in the beginning of the movie. I love him so much.

I cannot wait to see the 4th chapter of TFone Megatron being pregnant ☺

Hey, I'm glad you liked it! Poor Dee's really going through it. 4th chapter is still being worked on, but here! Have some bonus content of poor sick D-16. This time, after hours:

::Digestive tank purge, initiated::

D-16 gags as he comes back online, startled out of recharge but body moving in its own, stumbling out of his slot and clamping one servo over his mouth. Something in his abdomen heaves and he feels hot bile hit the back of his throat. Tears blur his vision and he searches desperately for a waste bin, but it's too late: his upper body jerks and he stumbles to his knees over a drain on the floor, one palm planting shakily on the cold concrete before half-digested energon comes sloshing past his lips.

He moans, miserable, tears dripping solemnly down his cheeks. He gags again, violently, sobbing as it makes his whole upper body jerk. His midsection throbs, his esophageal tubing burns. He hunches over, vents whirring loudly, pressing his overly-hot forehelm to the cold ground.

"D-16?"

He whimpers pathetically and turns his face, squinting against the fluorescent backlight. "D... Doctor...? H'oh-!" He gags again and turns to purge, coughing out a sheet of clear, burning sludge.

"I'm here," Ratchet is kneeling at his side immediately, one servo on his back and the other coming to touch his forehelm, holding his head up. "Primus, kid. You're burning up." 4 degrees outside of what could be considered the normal parameters. Any hotter and he'd probably have to be shut away in a medsuite for emergency care.

Exhausted, D-16 slumps over, heavily leaning on the medic. His vents are shuddering, and his whole body is trembling with exhaustion. He sniffles again, tears still threading down his cheeks. "...it hurts," he admits in a tiny, rasping voice. His optics glaze over and he starts to sob into Ratchet's lap. "I feel... s-so bad...!"

The medic's spark aches, because there's really nothing he can do. Fever reducers and extra coolant haven't been working, antibiotics aren't working, he hasn't been able to rest and sleep it off the way he desperately needs to, and none of his tools are calibrated for identifying specific viral strains and whipping up the chemical compound of a cure. Not like the ones in the real hospitals. When it comes to illness, all he can do is guess and estimate and diagnose to the best of his ability, and treat them accordingly. But nothing's been working and D-16 just keeps getting sicker. The only silver lining is that he doesn't seem to be contagious, as no one else has come down with his mystery ailment.

Defeated, Ratchet rubs soothing circles on his back while Dee sobs into his lap. "I know, kid... I- I know. We- I'm sorry, we're still trying to figure it out." He and First Aid and Sugarcoat were up to their ears in half-finished repairs and a huge queue of mecha in need of their constant attention because of the new shift rules. There just wasn't time to figure out a treatment for one mech's fevers and stubbornly upset tanks. Dee makes a miserable snuffling sound and starts coughing, prompting Ratchet to drag him into a sitting position to decompress his aeration systems.

"...come on," he stands up and slides his hands under D-16's arms, pulling him to stand. The younger mech's legs are shaking, knees knocking together. His optics are unfocused, and he wobbles dangerously. "You gonna biff it?"

"D... Dunno."

"Alright. Hang tight, I'll getcha a chair."

The wheelchairs are antiquated, all of them rusty and dusty and old, but they're enough to support a miner's weight and get them where they need to go. Ratchet pushes him to one of the medsuites and effortlessly lifts him onto the berth, telling him to lie down.

"What're you...?"

"I'm doing inventory," shift doesn't start for another two megacycles, but the work needs to be done. "You're gonna sleep. Lying flat should help the nausea some." He'd have liked to also get him on an energon drip, as his constant purging surely had his gauges in the red, but energon was in short supply right now. Emergency transfusions only, and unless a mech was at risk of deactivating, it wasn't considered an emergency.

D-16 doesn't look convinced, cuz he's really not supposed to be in here. Ratchet tuts at him, says, "Doctor's orders." and throws a weighted sheet over him to seal the deal. To his relief, Dee falls back into recharge some ten kliks later, and is able to get a bit more uninterrupted rest. He feels awful when he has to shake the silver mech awake for the work cycle, but inciting the wrath of their overseers by being late would only make his fragile health worse. Thankfully, Dee is able to walk (more of a hobble, but at least he was upright), and Ratchet resolves to figure out something to help him.

#wow this got away from me #ratchet #d-16 #listen i meed ratchet who's the exhausted mine mom whos just trying his damn best to take care of them all #hes amongst the oldest of any of the Iaconians (which isnt saying much ik) and loves all the cogless miners like his own children #anywaaaay i hope you enjoyed #transformers one

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whxre4hange · 12 days ago

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attack on titan characters playing league headcanons

guys im in my final year of my undergrad and i have exams and this is what im doing w my time LMAO

eren (ultimate rage quitter)

eren is the ultimate tryhard. bro mains riven and screams into the group call "i will carry!" he charges into fights like he’s fighting titans, only to get instantly melted. after dying for the fifth time, you can hear him scream into the mike, “i’m not mad, i’m just... passionate! WE GOT THIS GUYS DONT GIVE UP” while furiously typing “ff 15” in chat.

mikasa the overprotective bodyguard

mikasa is the ultimate support, but she’s less about healing and more about throwing daggers at anyone who dares touch eren. if someone tries to gank him, she’ll sprint across the map like a ninja, yelling, “no one touches my eren!” while simultaneously saving him from certain doom… and then getting herself killed in the process.

armin the strategist (and coward)

armin is the brains of the operation, but he spends half the game hiding in a bush, whispering strategies to himself. when he finally decides to engage, he shouts, “guys! let’s flank them!” only for everyone to be dead by the time he finishes his sentence. he’s basically a walking “how not to play” guide.

sasha the snack master

sasha is the adc, but her real focus is on her snack stash. she’s munching on chips while trying to farm minions and will often say things like, “just one more potato chip before i go back!” she ends up feeding because she can’t resist grabbing a snack during team fights. “i’m just… multitasking!”

connie the confused support

connie thinks he’s playing support, but he keeps accidentally stealing kills with his abilities. when everyone yells at him, he responds with a confused, “but i thought we were playing catch!” he’s just trying to help, bless his little heart.

jean's leadership failures

jean wants to be team captain (literally no one cares) and constantly tries to direct everyone like he’s leading a military operation. “okay, guys! we need a five-man engage!” but when eren charges in solo again, jean just facepalms and mutters, “why do i even try?”

marco the cheerleader

marco is the wholesome cheerleader of the group. he’s always encouraging everyone with phrases like, “good job, team! you can do it!” unfortunately, he gets so distracted by his own positivity that he forgets to ward properly and walks straight into a bush full of enemies. “oops! my bad!”

reiner's tanking fail

reiner plays tank but thinks he’s invincible. he charges into fights yelling, “i’m here to save you!” only to get one-shot by an enemy assassin. his teammates are left screaming, “we needed you alive for that!”

ymir's sneaky shenanigans

ymir plays an assassin and loves sneaking around for picks. she’ll shout things like, “i’m going in!” but then accidentally reveals her position by stepping on a ward. when historia asks her what happened, she just shrugs and says, “it was tactical misdirection!”

annie’s solo queue dominance

annie is a solo queue legend who plays mid-lane like it’s her personal arena. she rolls her eyes at her teammates’ antics and mutters things like, “if you all just let me carry…” she has zero patience for anyone who doesn’t understand how to play properly—and she’ll mute them faster than you can say “teamwork.”

bertolt's unexpected support skills

birthcontrol is surprisingly good at support, using his size as an accidental shield for his teammates. when someone asks how he does it, he just says softly, “i’m just… really good at standing still.” and somehow that works....

erwin's confusing speeches

erwin gives motivational speeches before every match that leave everyone more confused than inspired. “remember: victory is not just about winning; it’s about… uh… being brave?” anywyas by the end of it, everyone is just staring blankly at him while eren types in chat: “can we just play already?”

hange's chaotic jungle adventures

hange plays jungle with chaotic energy that keeps everyone on their toes. they dive into fights yelling, “let’s go! science rules!” but often end up accidentally initiating fights they can’t win. then they die spectacularly the end

levi's silent judgment

levi lurks in the background, silently judging everyone while occasionally throwing out sarcastic comments like, “great job feeding.” when asked why he doesn’t play more often, he simply replies with a deadpan stare: "because i don’t want to ruin my kda." and yet somehow still manages to carry every game when he does play

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theclairvoyage · 8 months ago

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Centrifugation: Chapter 1

plasmadonor!Joel x f!reader

You’re the star phlebotomist at the local plasma center, and the job has been increasingly mundane as of late… until a new and handsome Texan donor comes to the center and changes that, and the rest your life.

Series Masterlist

Series warnings:

AU, M/F, Age gap (20 years)-reader’s YOB is 1995 (purely coincidental lolol), eventual SMUT, blood, needles, & plasma talk (nothing too graphic, I promise!), a bit of blasphemy, criticism of religion, mentions of death, divorce, angst, fluffity fluff fluff, alcohol consumption, violence. Individual chapters will have specific warnings.

FYI – this work contains criticisms of religion and reader is atheist/agnostic. Feel free to scroll if this offends you. If you decide to read, remember that even if you are religious, this is not an attack on you, but rather ideology. And remember the tenets of religious freedom. Everyone has the right to believe – and NOT to believe – in the things you do.

Plasma Center UrbanDict:

Stick = venipuncture

PR = permanent rejection, aka permanent deferral

Reception = where donors have vitals taken to determine if they are suitable to donate

Donor Floor = where the magic happens, baby! Where donation occurs, aka sticks with big 17G needles

Processing = where units of plasma are sampled and frozen

This is my first ever fic! Excited to share all of it with you. I'm new to posting this kind of stuff on Tumblr, so please forgive rookie formatting and whatnot. Hope you enjoy! As of 03/10/24, I have 6 chapters written - I'm juggling my writing with finishing my MPH degree, so my schedule might be a little spotty until mid-May.

Chapter 1

Chapter warnings: blood, needles, & plasma talk, light violence.

WC: 3.7k

Friday, October 15th | 0755

You turn into the parking lot at the plasma center, a little later than your usual 10 minutes early. Your shift is at 8, so you don’t have much time to walk to the center, clock in, grab your coat and face shield and get to work. Thankfully, the parking lot is just across the street. As soon as you step out of your car, downtown Omaha greets you with the familiar scents of cigarette smoke and fall air, along with the sounds of the city buses and commuters chugging along.

It’s a nice morning. Living in Nebraska means you get to experience the peaks and valleys of all four seasons, and during fall, this means the leaves of what few trees are in the downtown area are painted lovely hues of orange, yellow, and even red – if you’re lucky enough to find a scarlet or pin oak tree.

The plasma center parking lot is shared with employees and donors, and it’s packed this morning. Not a great sign. You walk up to the back employee entrance and punch in the code. The keypad beeps and lights up green and you pull open the ages-old, heavy-as-hell door and make your way to the break room.

The donor waiting area is just outside the break room door, and you can tell by how full it is that it’s going to be a long day, confirming your earlier suspicions in the parking lot. Somebody definitely called in, you think. Great. Punching in the same code as before, you enter the break room, throw your stuff in your locker, and clock in.

As soon as you’re on the Donor Floor, donned with your white lab coat, blue nitrile gloves, and face shield, one of your best phlebotomists and good friend Keri approaches, looking flustered as hell.

“Jesus, thank fuck you’re here,” she sighs, taking a deep breath and raising her eyebrows at you. She smooths back her frizzy hair and sets down her face shield on the counter next to you.

“Are we short today, or did corporate send out some bonus texts to half of Omaha?” you say, checking the Donor Queue on the computer. 15 people waiting, average wait time of 43 minutes. Fucking clean up time, I guess.

“Two call-outs, but they’re newbies, so it wouldn’t have mattered, really,” she says. “Definite yes on the bonus texts. Regulars are all pissed off because they didn’t get any.” You roll your eyes and sigh. To get more donors in, the company you work for has been sending bonus texts to donors that haven’t been in in a while, which really ticks off the regular, twice-a-week donors. It’s all about meeting that liters budget.

“Where do you need me? Breaks need to be sent?” you ask her. You’re the lead phlebotomist, but you always check in with whoever opened before you make any decisions. Keri nods. “Send Blake to break, he’s got an open section now and we’ve got to get these wait times down.” You grab your mobile phlebotomy device and head that way.

Each phlebotomist can have a maximum of 6 donors in their section. You see Blake cleaning up the machine from his last disconnect, leaving you an empty section. “You can head to break, I’ll take over here,” you say, helping him wipe down the now-empty donor bed.

“Thanks… really happy that you’re here. It’s been a shit show today,” he says, walking away from the section toward the break room. You groan and head up to the front near the waiting area, grab a chart, and start climbing the mountain.

Thursday, October 15th | 1230

The morning turned out to be an absolute disaster. You quickly filled up your section once you sent Blake to break, apologizing to every donor you sat for the wait times. Most were understanding. There were a few that gave you an eye roll or a shrug. A few left the center, not wanting to be late for work. The fall is generally a busy time at the center, with people seeking extra money for football tailgates and games, college students needing extra money for just about everything, and parents stocking up early on holiday savings.

Thankfully, Keri, you, and the rest of the morning Donor Floor crew knocked the Queue down to 3 donors and wait times down to 10 minutes. Once the last morning break was done, they came over and sent you to your lunch. Delighted, you took off your sweaty coat and hung it up, washed your hands at the sink by the coat rack, and headed to the break room.

Before you’re able to punch in the door code, a deep, velvety voice stops you.

“Uh, miss? Can you point me in the right direction?”

You turn and look in the direction of the voice and see a taller man with dark, silvery-streaked curly hair, tanned skin and pensive brown eyes staring at you. He’s donning a red flannel that squeezes his broad shoulders and ropy arm muscles, and dark wash Levi’s that have the outline of his wallet imprinted in the front right pocket. He’s definitely a blue-collar guy, not unlike a lot of the current donors. Must be a new donor, you think. Damn, he looks good. You feel a little zap in your chest, not unlike the fingerstick donors get during screening.

“Hi! Are you a new donor?” You ask, turning on your customer service voice in hopes of calming your nerves. You step back from the door and walk toward him. He’s got a small white paper slip in hand, which tells you he needs his veins checked, so he must be new.

“Yes ma’am, need someone ‘ta look at my veins. Been here before, but it’s been a long time,” he says, watching you approach him and giving you the once-over. Twice-over. Your pulse quickens. His voice is like icing, dripping with a sweet Southern accent and mushing your insides. You smile and take the paper from him, hoping that you aren’t blushing.

“Roll up your sleeves for me and let’s take a look,” you say, watching him roll up the sleeves of his red flannel. He’s got thick, veiny forearms that are tanned and covered with freckles. He wears a watch on his left wrist that you assume hasn’t been removed in years, judging by the pure white skin peeking underneath. His hands are big and scarred. Definitely works with his hands, you think. He has a small, circle-shaped scar on his right arm near the venipuncture site, so he was telling the truth about donating plasma before. You grab a tourniquet hanging on the cabinet near the chart area, wrap it on his upper arm, and feel. His veins are huge and muscular, and you realize you didn’t need the tourniquet in the first place. Rookie mistake.

“Guess I really don’t need this,” you say, removing the tourniquet and feeling his ropy veins with your index finger. His skin is warm under your clammy finger. He chuckles. “Heard that one before,” he says. You laugh and make eye contact with him, noticing the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and his salt and pepper beard. His gaze is amiable and filled with something else you can’t quite pinpoint, and your stomach twists. You look away before you can decipher it.

“I don’t think you’ll have any issues with the stick,” you say, and he laughs. “Are you hydrated? Had a good meal in the last hour or two?” You ask, writing your name on the vein check slip and circling “Pass.” You see the name Joel Miller written at the top.

“Yes ma’am, I do a lot of workin’ outside and with my hands, so I know better,” he says, confirming your earlier assumption. His voice is sending a wave of tingles from your ears to your neck, and you feel goosebumps start to erupt in their pathway.

“Good man, Joel,” you say, noticing him perk up at you saying his name, “Take this back to the front desk and we’ll get you processed as quickly as we can.” He nods, gives you a handsome-as-fuck lopsided smile, and walks back to the front. You head back to the break room and turn to glance at him once more to find that he's already looking at you. Fuck, you think, looking back at the door. Don’t need a hot donor making me feel nervous like this. He’s older than you, but he might be the most handsome guy you’ve ever seen. You can only imagine how homely you look, clad in your scrubs and sweaty from the morning hustle and bustle.

You see every part of humanity at your job: young and old, foreign and domestic, all races and ethnicities, handsome and near homeless. There have been a few men that have caught your eye, and a few that you’ve met up with outside of the center, but none like this one. As tedious and mundane as the job can be, it’s the people that make it exciting, especially attractive ones. Well, hopefully he passes screening so I can see him on the Donor Floor, you think, contemplating what you’re going to get for lunch in the short time that you have.

Thursday, October 15th | 1430

Your break went by too fast. You decided on some fast-food place just across the street from the center. It’s good and cheap, but you know the greasy food is going to put you in a late-afternoon lull. Oh well. After you got back, the lobby was still relatively empty, so you started working on doing the monthly machine cleanings in the meantime.

The plasmapheresis machines are complicated and like everything else in the plasma center, they come with lots of rules and regulations. You’re a seasoned pro, though, so the cleaning and documentation are a breeze. You’re heading over to clean the last of the machines in the third row of the Donor Floor when you see a familiar, handsome head of dark salt-and-pepper curls walk behind Keri to one of the donor beds in the first row. He smiles at you as he lies on the donor bed, and you feel your cheeks heat and curl up into a smile of their own. Get a fucking grip. You’re relieved that Keri is taking care of him, because you’re nervous just seeing him in your work area. You can only imagine how shaky your hands would be with a needle if you were the one sticking him.

While cleaning the machines in the third row, you periodically look over at Joel and Keri. Keri is great with the donors, and it’s evident when you see Joel laughing with her. Each time you look up, he’s either already looking at you or looks up right after you do. You try to play it off like you’re scanning over all the donors, making sure everything is going as it should, but the sweat sheen forming on your face and neck betray you.

You see the light on his machine turn green, indicating he’s been stuck and is running smoothly. You imagine what it would’ve been like to feel his veins again, feeling his warm, tan skin underneath your fingers… and underneath other things, like—

“Oh my god, that man is such a charmer… and asked about you at least three times,” Keri states, snapping you out of your horny daydream. Your eyes widen and you turn so he can’t see your face from where he’s seated.

“Shhh! Keep your voice down!” You hiss, making both of you giggle. “What was he saying?”

“Oh, nothing much, just asking what the cute girl that checked his veins was doing all the way over here,” she smirks. “He used to donate here over 25 years ago when the center first opened up. Can you believe he’s that old? He does NOT look like it.” Odd, you think. He didn’t sound like he was from here when you spoke to him earlier. Wait, did he say I was cute? Blushing at his remark about your appearance, you remember the scar on his arm and think he’s probably telling the truth. “Wow, he looks good. How old is he?” Keri pulls him up on her mobile phlebotomy handheld and you see he was born in 1975. Damn. 20 years older than you.

Before you and Keri can gush further about Joel, the front door slams shut, echoing throughout the center and catching everyone off-guard. You watch as one of the younger regular donors, Cedric, storms past Reception and the donor waiting area over to the Donor Floor front desk, near where you checked Joel’s veins earlier. He practically spits your name, his brows pinched in a rage.

“Cedric, is everything alright?” You ask, approaching the front desk slowly. The once-noisy Donor Floor is quiet, save for the quiet whirring and clicking of the machines. Donors not wearing headphones are anxiously watching the front desk. You give Cedric the once-over and notice that his arm wrap is soaked with blood, and some of it has gotten on his white shirt and shorts and the floor around him. First rule of donating: Never wear white to a plasma center, dude.

“Does it fucking look alright? My arm wasn’t wrapped right and now I have blood everywhere!” he fumes. The entire Donor Floor is watching, including Joel and poor Blake, who must’ve disconnected Cedric. Blake approaches tentatively, tail between his legs, but you put your hand up to him, saying I’ll take care of this. Blake gives you a thankful nod and tiptoes back to his section.

“Cedric, I’m sorry about that. Come over to the sink and I’ll rewrap it for you,” you say, putting a fresh pair of gloves on. “Keri, can you clean up the blood spots with bleach, please?” You ask. She nods and grabs a Clorox bottle near the front desk, putting her face shield on and quickly walking around Cedric to search for the path of blood droplets. Cedric raises his voice again.

“Not good enough. I need that kid fired for his incompetence!” he points aggressively at Blake, flinging some blood droplets on the arm of your coat and on the front desk.

“Everybody makes mistakes, Cedric. Blake is a great employee. We can fix this. Let’s get you cleaned up, and maybe we can compensate you a little extra on your next donation,” you offer. But Cedric isn’t having it. He rips off the arm wrap and gauze and throws them at you while screaming expletives. The bloodied wrap nearly hits your face shield. Oh, hell no. He’s a long-term donor, so he’s probably clean, but it’s too close for comfort.

“Blake, call Trina and call the cops. Get this guy out of here. Cedric, don’t ever come back to this place,” you calmly instruct, walking backwards to find a biohazard container a safe distance from Cedric, never turning away from him. Trina, your manager, doesn’t put up with this kind of stuff and will make sure he’s permanently deferred.

“Fuck you, bitch!” Cedric yells, sprinting out of the center with two fingers on his free hand holding his venipuncture site, some blood dripping underneath. Once the front door slams shut, you turn around and take off all your PPE and toss it in the biohazard container, saving your nametag and pen. Frustrated and tired, you walk to the sink to wash your hands. Keri and Trina approach you.

“You alright, hon?” Trina asks. She’s a good manager, always looking out for her employees. She used to work on the Donor Floor, so she’s no stranger to these kinds of mishaps. Tensions can be hefty in this area – some donors are desperate for money, some fear needles more than death itself, and some are just grumps. Phlebotomists usually get the brunt of it.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just need to cool off. I told Blake to call the cops.” She nods.

“Go ahead. When the police get here, they’ll want your statement, so I’ll come find you then… I’ll put in the PR now,” she says, giving your arm a supportive squeeze before walking back toward the offices. You give her a pained smile and look to Keri, equally concerned as Trina. “Take your afternoon break, love. I’ll handle everything else,” she says. “Thanks, Ker. I’m gonna step in the freezer to cool off and then I’ll go.” She nods. You head toward Processing, located at the opposite end of the center. Processing has two giant walk-in freezers that always maintain temps of -40ºC – great for keeping fresh plasma frozen solid and an instant cool down.

You step in one of the freezers, shutting the heavy door behind you. You walk over to the fans and stand underneath. The sweat on your neck and back quickly freezes in its downward track, leaving behind a sting that could soon turn to frostbite. It doesn’t take long to cool off here, and anybody staying in for longer than a minute is supposed to put on a heavy coat, gloves, and a ski mask. It’s a popular spot for blistering summer days and after heated interactions like this. Satisfied with the pink blooming on your fingers and the crunch of your frozen, sweaty hair, you step out of the freezer and make your way outside for your break.

Once at the picnic table at the outdoor employee break area, you do a quick scan for Cedric. You can see the trails of blood drops leading to and from his car, and an empty space where his car must’ve been parked. Heaving a sigh of relief, you plop down at the table and massage your temples. Fuck… glad this day is almost over.

“Sweetheart, you alright?” A soothing, Southern voice rings in your ear and you look up, seeing Joel approach from his truck. He says your name, surprising you. Keri must’ve told him it while she was going through the process with him.

You take this moment to return the once-over he gave you earlier. Twice-over. His sleeves are still rolled up and you can see his arm wrap. His jeans crinkle at the hip with each step, his strong, toned quads flexing as each foot contacts the pavement. You can only imagine what he looks like from behind. His cowboy boots are worn, the leather cracking around the toes. He’s probably the type to wear a pair until they crumble to bits. He walks with a quiet bravado, taking long, smooth strides until he reaches you at the table.

You’ve no doubt you look exhausted. Though your sweat has frozen, you can feel how frizzy your hair is, especially around your face. Your eyes sting with fatigue and the skin underneath your eyelids tug downward. Your throat feels dry and tight, like you might cry soon. He must notice because the look in his eyes morphs from concern to anger.

“Hi, Joel,” you state, forcing a smile. “I’m okay. Not my first rodeo,” you wink, giving him a sarcastic “yee-haw” motion. He laughs, but his eyes betray him, still showing anger.

“Mind if I sit?” He motions to the spot across from you.

“No, go ahead, but the cops are on their way and who knows if Cedric will be back,” you caution him. He waves you off.

“That fuckin’ kid don’t scare me, and I saw everythin’ anyway. I can talk to the cops if you ain’t comfortable,” he says. He puts his hands on the backs of yours, and you feel another zap in your chest like you did when you first saw him earlier. You notice now that he doesn’t have a wedding ring.

“Thanks, but you don’t have to. I’m well versed in this department,” you say, feeling the tears reaching their boiling point. You do everything you can to keep them in, but one betrays you and falls down your cheek. Angry that you’re crying in front of Joel, you try to move your hand out from underneath his to wipe the tear, but he beats you to it.

“It’s okay, darlin’. You did the right thing, stickin’ up for your people,” he soothes, his thumb wiping your tear from your face. He moves his hand to cup your jaw and swipes his thumb gently over your cheek. His angry eyes softened back to concerned.

For what feels like an eternity, the two of you stare at each other, exchanging more communication nonverbally than words could ever. He’s looking at each of your eyes back and forth, and you feel yourself start to get embarrassed under his hot stare. You try to turn your head away from his gaze, but his hand stops you. “You’re alright, darlin’, got nothin’ to be ashamed of here,” he says, reading your mind. You bring your hand up from the table to gently grasp his arm as a sign of appreciation. His gaze follows and he swallows loudly.

“Thank you,” you say, giving him a genuine, close-lipped smile. His eyes move to your lips and then quickly dart back to your eyes, like you caught him doing something forbidden. He removes his hands and stands up, walking over to your side. He offers a hand to help you up and you accept, letting him pull you to your feet.

“Sorry your first visit back here was so crazy,” you say, and he laughs. “Hopefully next time it’s not so… exciting.” He moves his hand up to your shoulder and gives it a quick squeeze before dropping it. A tingle rips up your spine.

“Oh, I’m sure it will be.” He gives you that same look that he did earlier, the one where you couldn’t quite figure out what it meant. This time, though, you think you know exactly what it means. Your stomach somersaults.

“I’ll see you soon, darlin’. Hopefully your day gets better,” he says, turning to walk toward his truck. Once he gets to the driver’s side door, he turns to look at you again and pauses. You stand and stare at him, wanting to say something in return, but too overwhelmed by all your emotions. He smiles and gets in the truck, starting it and driving off while watching you with a small wave. You smile as he leaves.

Fuck.

Next Chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #centrifugation #pedro pascal fandom

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cometlevi · 1 year ago

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Levi Week - Day 1: Teashop ☕️

Tags: @leviweek2023

After the war, Levi didn’t really have a clear plan on what he wanted to do. To him, the mere idea of not having to be on guard 24/7 was absurd. It’s safe to say it took him quite some time to get used to his new life, a life of peace. Around a year and a half after the war, Levi decided to pursue one of his life long dreams. Opening a tea shop. Levi is a picky man so finding a property he liked proved to be a challenge. He would spend hours viewing potential properties but he didn’t like the majority of them, mainly due to the locations.

Eventually, he struck gold and found a gorgeous little property with a medium size front deck that overlooks the picturesque harbour. There were two large willow trees on either side of the deck, the leaves swaying along with the gentle sea breeze. The moment Levi laid eyes on the property, he couldn’t help the small smile that graced his angelic face. Sure, there was quite a bit of work to be done before the teashop was up and running but Levi was more than eager to get the renovations underway. His dream was finally coming true.

9 months later

“Hello, what could I get you?” Levi stated calmly whilst looking at the tall black haired man who stood at the counter.

“Hm, I’m not too sure…what’s better, Assam or Darjeeling?” The man asked inquisitively whilst eyeing the large display of tea leaves.

“In my opinion, I’d say Assam. It has an extremely pleasant malty taste. Darjeeling on the other hand, has a more fruity taste” Levi answers confidently.

“Ok! It’s settled then, could I please get a pot of Assam tea with two butter croissants?” The man states exuberantly.

“Of course, please take a seat inside or outside and I’ll bring your order to you when it’s ready” Levi says smoothly whilst tapping the mans order through the till.

Since Levi first opened the doors to his shop 5 months ago (Kuchel’s teashop, a name everyone in town was familiar with), business was booming to say the least. The day he first opened the shop, there were queues of people waiting to sample the infamous Captain’s wide selection of teas and pastries. Levi was overwhelmed, in a good way of course. The amount of support he had received from the local people moved him, more than he’d like to admit.

During the first week, Kuchel’s teashop had received a hugely positive influx of reviews. Everyone loved Levi’s tea and the warm, welcoming atmosphere of his teashop. But most importantly, people loved Levi. They loved how passionate he was about tea and they loved how knowledgeable he was about the numerous different types of tea he offered.

Levi was getting ready to close the teashop for the night, he had finished cleaning the tables and counters and was now restocking the large display of tea leaves as low classical music played throughout the shop.

Once he has finished the closing tasks, he walked to the storage room and grabbed his belongings, throwing on his black trench coat and hanging up his beige apron on the peg behind the door. He turned all the lights off and walked outside to lock the front doors. As he walked down the deck stairs he stopped on the middle step and looked back at his shop, a huge sense of achievement and joy filled him.

Levi smiled to himself as he looked at the wooden sign that hung above the door. The words ‘Kuchel’s teashop’ laid on the wooden sign in bold black writing. He reflected for a moment, he knew his mum would be so proud of him. That thought brought him happiness. He was finally where he wanted to be.

#LeviWeek2023 #levi ackerman #teashop #attack on titan #captain levi #drabble #fluff #fluff drabble

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navibluebees · 2 years ago

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How Ja would be with his SO

Please read before interacting.

Damn, I love this picture so much. 🥰 Also, using the name of his actor for him, look at this guy! 🫶🏻

Your first meeting was because you got hurt and when he was wrapping your ankle, he asked how and you had to admit you tripped over your feet. He laughed and you sulked so he gave you an apologetic smile.

You work at the pharmacy at Bridgehead so he makes any and every excuse to pick up any medications himself

A bit slimmer than the others but still really strong. Likes to take the “scenic route” to the showers, coming by your work and loving how your eyes linger on him after a workout

“So when are you gonna ask me out, Johnny?” He’d been hovering around you for weeks now, just leaving notes and sharing glances

Likes being pampered after long days of taking care of other people. So thankful to come home to food, showering you with kisses, shoos you away after to put up food and do the dishes

Slight southern accent, I’m convinced. Taught the other recoms how to square dance when you were hanging out and you laughed so hard with Spider that you both cried. (also convinced that Miles finally agreed to be his partner after everyone else harassed him about it)

Date night movie nights in your room, his legs hanging off of the bed, you’re cradled against his chest. If he has to leave before you wake up, he always makes sure to kiss your forehead and leave a note.

So proud of you, will chat you up to the other recoms talking about your accomplishments

Smirking at them when you braid his queue if they don’t have anyone to help them.

VERY expressive ears and tail. Has to force himself to be calm until he feels comfortable around you. His tail has come thisclose to knocking a pot off of the stove before

NSFW BELOW

Bit of a breeding kink, desperately wants to have a family with you, whatever that looks like for inter species relationships 😂

Down for quickies in the med supply closet, half-clothed, holding you against the wall, kissing you to cover your sounds

Into a little breath play, so so careful of how strong he is

Loves to bottom and watch you ride him, sits against the pillows and brings you against his chest, kissing your neck and helping you move on him

Expresses frustration more easily once he’s closer to you, leading to you both yelling at each other after a stressful day. Kissing so hard you bruise each other’s lips and he throws you over his shoulder taking you to the bed and tossing you onto it. Tearing each other’s clothes off. Going hard, fast and rough into a mating press until you finish together. Soft pillow talk and apologies and gentle kisses after.

#recom ja #avatar movie #avatar way of water #avatar 2

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itwaslegendary · 5 months ago

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okay here comes a LONGGGGG post about my experience at eras 🫶

———

we arrived yesterday. today in the morning i went have breakfast (a shake and some crepes) and then i went back to the hotel with my friend to get dressed up. after that we went grab the metro to the santiago bernabeu stop because it’s the closest one to the stadium.

when we got down and saw the stadium for the first time (well- second for me) we started freaking out because we were SO CLOSE to actually being IN there.

we first went check out the merch stores, at first i wasn’t going to buy anything but i ended up deciding to get the blue crewneck :,) afterwards we went look for a place to eat. i had a plate of pasta.

then we took some pictures outside (there was an eras tour film poster!!) and during the hour we had until our doors opened we decided to go trade bracelets. my friend ran out of them but because i was a beast and made 60 for 1 night i still have a few left.

i swear to god everyone was SO NICE, which was so refreshing because i’m used to the people in my school which are the closest thing to demons tbh. plus after having been bullied and excluded from all kinds of hangouts it felt so beautiful to feel included and see everyone so warming and friendly. 😭 if i could live at a taylor swift concert i would.

16:00 came and we decided to join our queue because even thought we had assigned seats we wanted to go in asap ! at first i was worried because i had a portable battery and i thought they’d throw it but ig the guard didn’t see it because we got in without any problem! by 16:20 we were in :D

our section was right in front of us but we wanted to check where the bathroom was first. the “field” is not closed so you could kinda see the stage and GUYS we freaked out again because there’s no way to describe what you feel when you see the eras tour stage for the first time because it means you’re THERE. that this is happening and you’re actually going to see taylor perform a 3 hour and a half show with all her eras (except debut but that’s a topic for another day). that the day you’ve been waiting for for so long has finally come. 😭

we talked a lot with a girl in front of us and the two beside us (the seats next to me were empty until way after paramore finished) and they were super nice, we love them 🫶 we traded some other bracelets and took some photos

then paramore came out and hayley was SO GOOD!!!! while they’re not my favorite band they were soooo fun and i knew some songs so i sang along :,) however i was sweating so much and i also needed to go to the bathroom because i had drunk like 5 bottles of water because it was HOT and also i was afraid of dehydration lol. so i had to miss 2 songs so i could go refresh myself.

we kept waiting and here i got mad because after paramore my friend said “i’m going to the bathroom” and i was like ok sure. 20 minutes went by and she was still not here so i got scared thinking i’d lost her, so i went find her…. the minute i crossed the door in ha mood started playing and everyone screamed. my friend was in the queue all nice and was the next to go in, so i got back to our seats and asked one of the girls we’d befriended if the “cleaning cart” had come out and she said yes 😭 i had missed that moment but all fine

my friend came back during applause. the countdown started and we all FREAKED OUT X3 and started counting down screaming from 13 downwards. i filmed my reaction to the intro because while i had seen it a billion times already seeing it live feels SO DIFFERENT (but the video got cut the instant taylor appeared smh). i was trembling and almost crying, for some reason singing along to the intro like it was my job.

… SHE came out. we screamed cried probably fainted too and here i kinda lost myself because i just remember being so excited about the bodysuit (i love purple and the tassels JSKAJ) and thinking like “oh my god she’s there she’s actually there i am seeing her in person she’s so pretty what what wHAT” and screaming miss americana + cruel summer like it was my only purpose in this life.

the crowd was insanely loud so i decided to play it safe and put earplugs on and LORDDDD THE DIFFERENCE taylor sounded SO much better, like you could actually hear her voice clearly and neatly and i got out with no ringing or pain whatsoever. i could sing along quite loudly and perfectly fine without only hearing myself (i only took them out in very specific occasions like illicit affairs and the smallest man who ever lived)

she spoke to us in spanish too 😭 just a few words but “encantada de conoceros” “hola” "vamos!!" “bienvenidos a la eras tour” “muchas gracias” etc. told us how we were being sooo loud and probably the loudest crowd ever!!! she also said that we all made her feel at home here not only in the stadium but also outside <3 (ik she says more or less the same things in every country but shhhh)

the 22 hat kid was ADORABLE he was so excited to get the hat and the interaction was so cute overall <3 during all too well she stopped a second to say that we were singing sooo loud (which from what i’ve seen does not happen too often!) and that this is the loudest she has ever heard this song 💓

during reputation we screamed “in the middle of the night in madrid” andddd we believe that she may have sung it too during the last verse which would be INCREDIBLE and so iconic 😭

in folkmore there was an issue with her guitar (she did not explain what) but it got fixed super quickly. i love small mishaps like these because it makes her look more authentic (?), like closer to the public, makes the atmosphere kinda look like we are all friends in here and she’s just at a cafe with a friend chatting jksja.

she also had to stop twice; once during betty and another during august, because some people in GA needed help. she saw the flashlights and asked (in spanish) the guards and sanitary staff to help. it was so nice to see how much she cares for the safety of her crowds, like you could see during betty how her face changed to a soft expression once she's told that everything was okay 🤍 we also have to thank that the staff in our show was fast and did everything right :)

the champagne problems ovation was adorable, i love in general her reactions because that’s pookie right there. it’s so personal to me how she throws her arms around her head and laughs and says i love you thank you like a hundred times ugh i love her with my whole soul ☹️

1989 was soo fun! (i got the outfit right but wrong order 😭) but the bad blood fires were. pretty noticeable LMFKWOS it was already hot and with then the thing got much hotter but it cooled down quite fast.

TTPD OH MY GODDDDD it’s def my favorite set. loved the choreo the outfits the setlist EVERYTHINGGGGG. i screamed the the smallest man who ever lived sooo loud and the i can do it with a broken heart’s “intro” was so fun too ajdkaj. i loved so high school even if it was just 30 seconds jdka

THE. SURPRISE. SONGS. at first she started talking about how we have been supporting her since the beginning and we knew a debut song was coming. the jump then fall mashup was AWESOME it’s one of my faves from fearless and it fit so well 🫶

for the piano one she said nothing. she just sat and started playing. i knew that i recognized the song but i could not fully realize which song it was until she sang “i’m perfectly fine” and there i lost it. i went blank for 5 seconds and then just SCREAMEDDDDD those lyrics like my life depended on it. i will never hear these 3 songs the same way again 🥹

after those surprise songs i went blank again but this time because the visuals of lavender haze are so beautiful i had to record them. i had to sit down during mastermind because my feet were exhausted… during karma i had a breakdown because it meant that the best day of my entire life was coming to an end, so i was singing along while crying like a little kid.

overall, i would repeat this a billion more times. it was the best night of my life and it has marked a before and after in my life (not exaggerating) and i hope i have the chance to experience these same feelings again for a future tour 🫶

#taylor swift #the eras tour #.txt #madrid n2 #making this so i never forget this day

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sunkeji · 3 months ago

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Sorry pookies for going Mia again 😔 I had to go for a few interviews and I'm kinda sad I didn't get past the preliminary round but that's ok! I'll just have to get in with my scores alone 😐

It'll be exam szn soon so I plan 🤡 to lock in. Praying that I actually finish all the drafts and can queue them for this upcoming month 🤗

I'm actually procrastinating putting it out bc I'm not quite happy with how I portrayed Sebek and silver in some of my drafts and it bothers me too much to not change anything 😭😭

If you wanna help me write it out lmk I'm ready to throw my drafts at you 🤗 (half joking)

Ok bye bye pookies

#sunkeji.rambles

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tropigar · 1 year ago

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Hey millie! Do you have any advice or tips on someone who has no idea where to even begin getting commissions? I love seeing all your stream art on my dash n thought you might have some ideas

Hi! I have a few pointers. And thank you, that is very kind :)

You'll need a payment processor. Paypal is pretty defacto in the art community. I always send invoices and it helps the transaction go smoother and gives you some control over the details and is better for recordkeeping purposes. You'll also need a platform to advertise your commissions on. Ideally this is just the same place you post your art and you have established yourself with a decent amount of art and some time on the platform to build an audience. There are artist-for-hire forums and the like where commissioners can seek out artists but I find the ratio of artists to commissioners tends to be astronomical so getting commissions on there can be difficult (I've never used them for that reason, if anyone has and wants to chime in it'd be appreciated!)

You'll need some way to advertise your commissions and organize the information. I use trello, I love that I can have my prices, TOS, examples, queue and finished pieces all in one spot. When you advertise your commissions an image that leads potential customers to your information helps. Some people make an image sheet with their examples and prices and TOS all included but honestly I've found that's more work than it's worth. The less digging customers have to do to find your commissions, the better.

You'll need to know what sort of commissions you want to offer. I see a lot of artists newer to offering commissions offer options for sketched, lined, colored, and shaded pieces that are also split by headshot, half-body, and full-body, so that's already 12 potential commission options, and then throw on options for backgrounds and props and such... less is more. Excessive options can be overwhelming and generally people will gravitate to one end (sketches if they're low on funds) or the other (fully rendered if they really like your work and have the cash). I try to keep it simple, I had my sketch headshots at $10 and lined fullbodies at $50-$70. Finding a "niche" is great! I did psychedelic portrait commissions and that was my best selling commission option for awhile.

As far as pricing goes that is a personal decision with a lot of variables. With digital art material costs are hardly a consideration but time spent making the piece, your skill level, and demand all are. I always start with an estimation of how long it takes me to complete a piece and go from there, I start at $20 an hour because that's how much I need at a full-time job to get by. If I think something will take me about 3 hours that's a $60 commission. Sometimes that does bite me in the butt and I end up spending something like... 16 hours on what I estimated would take me 8. Personally I always just eat the difference because I care more about providing a good experience for my commissioners than getting every penny :P I also charge up-front so it would feel unprofessional to go back and ask for more. Your commission prices should really be more of a rough estimate than a guaranteed quote, subjects can vary greatly in complexity, you don't want to charge the same $50 for a fullbody if some characters can be drawn in 2 hours and others take 6. Personal advice... if you are struggling to sell your art for say at minimum $10 an hour, it is either your skill level or your marketing / visibility. If it's the former, I really recommend stepping away from taking commissions for the time and spending a couple months or so working on developing your art skills. You will thank yourself later!

It's also important to know where your strengths and weaknesses lie. If you struggle with drawing backgrounds it's better to find that out in practice rather than on a commission while you're suffering through trying to figure out how to make rocks look like rocks or incorporate lighting and that sort of thing not that I would know what that's like, haha no wayyy.

You'll need a terms of service and there's a lot of considerations that go into that:

will draw / won't draw (can you draw xyz species? backgrounds? technology? etc)

turnaround time, queues (how long will it take to finish, a week or two months at most? do you finish commissions in a certain order?)

slot limits (how many outstanding commissions will you take at a time? it's important not to bite off more than you can chew)

payment options (how will they send you the money? also, when? up front, 50 now, 50 later?)

refunds (how will you refund if you can't complete a commission? do you offer refunds if requested by the buyer and at what time? if so, are they partial refunds determined by progress completion?)

work in progress images and revisions (do you offer WIPs? at what stages? how many revisions will you make? do you charge for additional revisions?)

usage rights (what will you do with completed commissions? just use as portfolio pieces? what can the buyer do with commissions? can they draw over them, crop and color filter, use as icons, print off, use commercially? if commercial applications is a considerations you need additional terms on that)

contact methods (email, discord, the same platform as posted, etc. how often will you reach out to them?)

anything else you can think of that would be relevant.

Having a public queue is good so people can see how much work you've done on their commission and/or where in line they are.

When working with commissioners it's important to be clear on what they're looking for. Have a character reference if applicable, know a bit about their personality and maybe how they want them depicted. Also things like time frames and resolution might be important.

And social skills is an obvious one. Be corteous and all that. Not much advice I can offer in that area. Be transparent, don't be rude, and you'll probably be fine lol. Overtime, you get practice with some less obvious things like commissioner personality types and vision and are better able to tailor your approach to what works best for the client. Some people just want to see their character in your style, others have a specific vision in mind, that sort of thing.

There are a few other things I can think of like, I really recommend you give yourself a month minimum turnaround time as breathing room for commissions (and if you finish it faster, hooray!), also I generally recommend charging 100% upfront (or something like 50/50 on larger commissions), I could go off on a few different things but that's more personal advice and opinions and this is getting to be a long post already :)

Also, take a look at a few different artists that offer commissions and what their process looks like and go from there!

If you have any more questions don't hesitate to ask and I'd be happy to help ^^

#art advice #asks #other

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starry-mist · 10 months ago

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I've actually finished s4 today and all my half-finished post-episode drafts are sitting in queue. I wish I had this much writing inspiration when it comes to fic right now. Sadly, I have none, so you get this dumping of Tumblr posts instead.

S4e13 thoughts:

This is an underrated episode with a ton of subtext.

Early side note: There was a series of four TV movies called The Love Club released...two Christmases ago, I think? Anyway two of the three Roses star in them, and Andrew Bushell (Michael) is a supporting character. They're cute. Very Hallmark-esque, but fun.

This script has a ton of subtext that I won't go super in-depth with.

I had a whole post written about potential episode order flips which somehow got flagged as mature...anyway, I dumped it, but in my mind, this episode could actually have come after the season finale. Since it doesn't, I am going to point out that in this episode and in 15 (and really in 12 also) Charlie and Sarah are very much having an emotional affair.

"Best friends working together...it's a lot more complex and nuanced..." or whatever Charlie's line is right before it cuts to Sarah smiling knowingly at him. We get it. You're secretly hot for each other but neither of you know how to USE YOUR DAMN WORDS.

Rex bringing up the pillow could have been a "hey Sarah, you should just sleep here" nod. (Okay I'm reaching, it's actually because he wants Charlie to go to bed, but it's cute.)

Sarah dancing with Rex while Charlie gazes lovingly at both of them...sigh.

The pillow Sarah throws at Charlie (while sitting extremely close to him on his couch) at the end...thanks, Rex, for getting in the middle of those two before they had YET ANOTHER MOMENT OF WEAKNESS BECAUSE ARGH THEY ARE SO FRUSTRATING.

Have I mentioned lately how much this season destroyed me the first time around?

Same actor, different character: I believe we last saw Dana Puddicombe as a food truck owner in s1, and here she's a nail salon owner. She'll reappear in the s5 finale.

#hudson & rex #charah #charlie hudson x sarah truong

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cag3dsong · 10 months ago

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I've done about half my drafts here but they're all staying in my drafts until I finish them all and then I'll throw them into a queue! This may take me a week or so so I haven't forgotten anyone, I just literally refuse to overwhelm myself more by throwing them onto the dash.

#˚・` . 𝐎𝐎𝐂 all you'll get from me is terrible life choices and salt.

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thessalian · 11 months ago

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Thess vs Change of Plans

Yeah, I'm going to have to shuffle a few plans. Because I only got in ten minutes ago. That should not have taken an hour, but it took an hour. It did remind me, though. how much I hate public transport, especially on the rush hour, and particularly especially when disabled.

So I walked down to the pharmacy for my prescription, and the little grocery store next to it for my various rolls of cookery apparatus. That was no problem - no queue at the pharmacy, found everything I needed quickly... The worst that happened was that my cane slipped on some wet leaves on the way and gave my arm and leg a bit of a wrench. Which, okay, it hurt, but there you go.

Then I had to wait a full half-hour for the 363 home (because I can't walk up that hill even on a good day). And when it got there, it was packed. There was exactly one seat left on the lower deck, and everyone in the priority seats ... well, either hiding in book, pointedly looking out the window or anywhere that they could pretend not to notice the people with walking aids staggering onto the crowded bus, and one lady who glared antagonistically at me as if daring me to open my mouth and ask if I could sit down. Anyway, that one seat on the lower deck? There was an elderly gentleman who got on the bus after me, and he had crutches, so I thought I'd be nice and let him have the seat. He barely nodded acknowledgement to me, which ... well, fine, okay. But the guy in the window seat next to that one leftover seat saw that, and actually got up and moved to the top deck to let me have the seat. Of course, that seat was immediately taken up by another woman who I guess had been on the bus awhile and while I know she saw me, she joined the people in the priority seats in pretending not to pay attention to anything.

Next stop, more people got on and a guy actually took his small child and moved to the top deck, leaving his partner behind to mind the stroller, because he also noticed I needed a seat. Unfortunately, there was this one guy who'd got on the bus at that point and he had me blocked off in a corner, and the seat got taken by someone else who'd got on at that stop, who again made every effort to avoid looking at me. So I just closed my eyes, clung to the rail for dear life, and tried to ignore how badly I hurt for the next two stops, when I finally got off the bus. Then I stopped briefly at the corner shop because however expensive it is now, I deserved a can of Coke, and then I hobbled home. And now I hurt. I hurt so much I cannot even begin to describe it.

So I figure, if I put the minced pork back in the fridge, it'll probably keep until tomorrow, where at least I won't have had everything flare up worse because of public transport nightmare so I should be able to make my cabbage rolls. And maybe a hot bath will improve the aches a bit. So I'll do that, stuff some emergency calories into my face, and then go back to the overtime. This means I'll be working until at minimum 10pm, because even finishing all of yesterday's work means eighty-plus bits of dictation, at least four of them over ten minutes ... but I just can't right now. Then I'll probably throw some tuna broccoli pasta together. I'd do takeout, but my flat buzzer's still broken and I can't face going up and down the stairs just for food.

Right. Bath. And pray that at least makes the spasms stop. I can deal with pain; I can't deal with my right leg spasming while I'm trying to press a foot pedal.

#Thess has a day job #Thess vs public transport

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sharonisthebettercarter · 1 year ago

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If you don't wabt to answer one by one, you can just screenshot the asks in your inbox and answer them, chronologically.

GOTDAMN! gimme a breather please!

i'm kidding, i'm a lazy shit--I'M ONLY HALF KIDDING I LIKE BEING LAZY--a breather would be nice...

lol, i am answering them tho not quite chronologically, but i am also queuing them with some art<3 reblogs too and i haven't changed the queue set up so... it's like at 2 per day (tho i don't always log on so) right now... (i may at some point increase that and try to be moar active, still gotta throw back in some sharon carter defense shit<3 but i digress~<3)

lol i will try to answer them best i can tho. just be a little patient, please<3 i'm workin' on so much shit too much shit at once including a butchlander~<3 (legit has a homelander who is terrible~<3 and literally *can't* sleep with mud people~<3 without exploding them in blood guts death and destruction~<3<3<3 and it's just so terrible--) fic (and ART PIECE~<3! I NEED MY PREGNANT BUTCHER GETTING RAILED--) keep trying to get back to, AND finish them OVERDUE halloweeeeeen prompts! (mark my words i WILL get that butchlander fic out... SOMETIME--)

ugh, just enjoy the arts and nonsensical shit in the meantime<3 or maybe binge a show or something... recently watched teen wolf, that was fun~<3<3<3 ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

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manonamora-if · 1 year ago

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Last one of the month!

So this one was an unexpected surprise... Essentially, woke up in the middle of the night with an insane idea, could not go back to sleep, wrote/coded for 4h (and spent 4h-ish the next day to translate), and BAM! this happened.

You can find the game here! I've shoved it into 3 ranked jam (well, two, but one of them for 2 diff languages), if you want to vote for it too...

small note: essentially half the plan was scrapped because of time constrains. I might do an extended version in the future?

Current wordcount : 9.327 (FR) + 920 3.898 (EN) new Coding update : 20% change

Oh boy, did we manage to do some things this week for this one!! I wasn't able to add much in the French version (it is still incomplete), so I focused on the translation, filling the gap for the former when needed. This meant I could clear out the first beat of the game, and part of the second one (currently working on it). I am about 1/3rd fully complete. I also worked a bit on the UI, fixing the sizing (essentially copy/pasting the template again) and adding themes.

Will it be ready for EctoComp? I have two more days to try!

After reviewing 40 IFComp entries, I am tapping out for now. There are still 3 more weeks left, so I might play but not review them. It is a bit more than half of the entries, and more than last year… So many long entries. I'm tired.

I did an AMA last Friday, and answered all your burning questions until there were no more (about 2h). It was loads of fun! Thanks again for sending questions :)

What's happening in the IF sphere:

Speaking of the IFComp: 3 more weeks to play and vote for 5 games! If you have about 2h to spare... there are a handful of 15min entries :)

The voting for the inkJam is underway (wink, wink, scroll above): there is a 5-game voting queue before you can vote for any other entries.

The entries of the EctoComps are about the be released. This is ALSO a ranked jam, so consider voting for a few. La Petite Mort category are games created under 4hs, so they are usually fairly short.

Last chance to enter the Bare-Bones Jam!

Missed a jam deadline or you have a concept you're not sure you can finish? Throw it to the @seedcomp-if.

Now, there's a lot I've been wanting to reorganise with the way I've been sharing progress/communicate and where, especially since working on revamping @crimsonroseandwhitelily.

This is pretty long, so I stuffed it all under the break.

First order of business: Monthly check-ins A shortened version of the monthly check-in will be publish on itch from next month on, on the first of each month (unless IRL gets in the way). It will recap what I did the previous month and the plan for the next one, as well as other news of what I am organising/doing aside from game-making. The longer versions going into more details and wishy-washy feelings, also including fun events to participate in and recaps. You know, the usual. Those too, will be posted on the 1st of every month. I'll also have separate posts for jam announcement.

Second: Weekly check-ins These will continue to be published every Sundays (usually mornings EST), even if Sunday is the 1st of the month (will be up before the monthly check-in). The format won't change: recap of progress on projects, other stuff to mention, maybe some events to participate in.

Third: AMA I've been doing AMAs at hella random times, and on a whim, but I'd like to do those more often, because they are fun, and with a more set date/time, so more of you can participate/not miss it (like I did last Friday). Maybe once a month type of thing, around the start or end of the month probably. I'll at least do one more before Christmas.

Fourth: Where else to get updates I've tried out a bunch of places, and while Tumblr feels the most easy/comfortable right now, I don't want to rely on one place only to share releases and big updates (who knows what will happen to Tumblr). I want peeps to be able to have options about where they can get news/updates (esp if you don't want to create an account on a specific website). I'll need to update the nav post about this (maybe have a carrd? or mailing list?), and be more consistent about updating all these places. I need to find some log-ins again... For now, Tumblr will be the most comprehensive one. And I'm not updating Twitter, btw.

Fifth: Update calendar So this year has been so far pretty different from what I hoped to do (mainly because I've participated in so/too many jams), good progress has been done in some places, none in others. That's on me, obviously, I get distracted by new ideas. I can't promise that next year will be much different and that I will stick to a rigorous calendar of updates. Time management and hobbies are like oil and water... But I want to be more careful with how I map my year and where I put effort. Working on remasters and participating in jams has shown me I can do quite a bit in short spurs. And I think I could manage to close more small WiPs if I put my eggs in order (participating in jams/comps usually stops quite a bit of that progress). I think coming to term with leaving some projects be would help a ton. Not everything needs a remaster/update.

Sixth: Itch Pages Update + Trailers? With each remasters, I've tried to be more consistent with the formatting of the itch game page, with screenshots and links to relevant pages. While this should be something to do from the start (with the OG release), with the way I've been release things, I can at least try to make it happen after release. I've struggled a bit for some entries in what to include, ngl. Text-based game seems much duller than non-IF. Also, and somewhat related, I'd like to make trailers for some of the games, mainly the longer completed ones. Also because they look neat and I've never done that before. I have no idea where to start, how to do them, or what to include, but I'm excited to learn! But realistically, this won't be something I'll start this year...

Seventh: Stop with this jam nonsense. So this is more something that's been requested by anons relentlessly in my inbox (esp CRWL's inbox, which I've been deleting every time), than me actually stopping participating in jams. First of all, lol at those request. I participate in/organise them because it's fun and it makes me want to create more not before I personally want to make you suffer by making you wait for months for an update (legit got this as a message). Should I calm down with participating in jams? Maybe. I've made 9 new games this year alone (not counting promps and templates), with varying length and completion (1 is incomplete, 2 needs fixing, at least 1 should be longer), which 50% more than last year. It's not sustainable for me to do the same next year, especially if I want to finish more of my WIPs (I can't just add more to the pile). We will see what next year brings in terms of jams... I will probably submit an entry to multiple jams. Jam FOMO is real...

Eighth: Blog(s) regorganising I've started with CRWL already (it's back up with limited posts), and it will take a bit of time to have everything back in tip top shape. Aside from purging/re-writing posts, I'll also be updating the interface (I'm thinking or re-wroking it from scratch) to make it more mobile friendly. The same will happen at some point with this blog. I want to clear out unnecessary posts/reblogs, and have a better tagging system (the more projects I have, the worse it becomes...).

And finally, I think I'm gonna need a few weeks of a proper break. IRL has been weird and I'm mentally exhausted. I don't know whether I need a break from everything or just the internet... but I might be away for a bit for sure. doomscrolling has not been helping either...

#progress #devlog #update #ibe #lpm

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