#Also it's almost 2 am here and my brain is only half functioning | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raisans-art · 1 year

Note

Been going through tonight's Chimera!Emmet posts, and I have a couple thoughts. First of all, your example of "If you chopped up a bunch of brains and sewed them together, you'd get a new consciosness" honestly might not be that accurate. Assuming someone did have the technology to make a functioning brain out of that, not only are brains kinda cracked on how much bullshit they' can they're capable of, it's surprisingly common for people to live almost completely normal lives with upwards of half their brains flat out missing; but having multiple identities sharing a brain space is a thing, as seem with Dissasociative Identity Disorder, though you might only know it as the outdated name of Multiple Personality Disorder. Ofcourse, none of that is accounting for how much psychological trauma such an operation would result in. And is completely powerless to the point of it being your AU, you can do whatever the hell you want. Other than that, I think it's sort of confusing to call this AU "Chimera Emmet AU" If Emmet's dead. It's not wrong per se, given that Emmet was used as part of the Chimera. But I feel the name implies that calling it "Chimera Emmet" implies that Emmet would still be in there somewhere. Sorry if all that came off as negative by the by. I mostly just wanted to talk about how damn weird our brains are, and why people might be confused about the relationship between Agee and what they used to be.

On your points:

1: this is pokemon so people's ability to do shit is significantly heightened. The idea is that just about every brain from every being in Agee contributed a part of each major sector of the brain therefore no real "ruling" on which part would (in an instance where all entities are conscious during activity) have greater standing.

Also, chopping up brains and sewing them together is not how the scientists literally made Agee. It's an example. In my little think-piece world (and please mind that I am working on limited knowledge and stretching a lot because none of this can actually happen), each brain was dissected, tested for certain responses, broken down, had their DNA sequences altered to a spliced and edited sequence via a man-made virus while the bodies were under immunosuppressants, and collected into a vat with some sciency goo that is full of embryonic stem cells that are stimulated to take the bits of the brain already provided and stitch all the necessary bits together using new cells. Is it unrealistic? Hell fucking yes it is but shshshshshsh don't worry. I monsterfied him. It's all gucci.

2: I'm fully aware DID's existence, don't get it twisted. And you are right, my story specifically involves Agee being their own being and not multiple personalities. It kinda ruins what I'm going for. I didn't make claim that multiple personalities can't exist in the same brain, just that it's certainly not happening here and definitely not happening solely in part to 4 different brains being frankensteined together, seeing as DID is a trauma response primarily and the majority of Agee's memory of what happened before consciousness is not really there.

3: Chimera Emmet AU is kinda grandfathered in at this point. The au started a whole lot differently. I even had an og name for Agee- Galemartross- that got totally scrapped in favor for Agee. Chimera Emmet AU is just meant to encapsulate the premise of the AU in an easily understandable way. Emmet. He's a Chimera now. Read more to find out what the fuck is going on. I just started with Chimera Emmet Au when I first drafted concepts and I'm not changing it now

Hope that covered everything =w=

#man when i get talking i fucking ramble dont i #ask raisans #chimera emmet au #tw surgery #tw death mention #tw medical #tw body horror #i talked about a lot here

24 notes · View notes

jamestaylorswift · 6 months

Note

NEED you to elaborate on the Thing please

Yes! The Thing!! If you have thoughts about The Thing, anon, I’d love to hear them.

I can’t for the life of me figure out what to properly call The Thing other than like…at times a cross between and at times just a drone and an ostinato and just background voicings? And mix in the functional opposite of pedaling? A more technical name, if it exists, is escaping me and a few google searches have not helped me figure out if such a term was ever in my brain. I will continue to call it The Thing until I figure it out.

The best way I can illustrate The Thing is *puts on my tiktoker voice* okay so you know the thing where a song is in (let’s say) the key of G and then there’s just this one synth that’s playing G constantly and oh look here it’s in another song too, just this one instrument playing the root, oh and in this song it’s doing a little boop boop boop but it’s still just a (let’s say) G major triad, oh and here we have it in THIS song too, you can hear the melody changing and the chords changing kind of around it but it’s jUst the ROOT rIGht There and it never stops and it never changes and oh my god watch out it’s even in this song because you see while these notes are being arpeggiated they’re just the notes of the first chord and the chord being arpeggiated doesn’t change even though there is a chord progression to different chords do you see what I’m saying??? guys I think this means something

Before I go on I should emphasize that Jack Antonoff is neither the only nor first artist to use The Thing or write songs that sound like This (“This,” of course, being the technical term for songs employing The Thing). I don’t think he or The Thing are “the problem” with (popular) music. It’s not like this is even a particularly new development in his music—I’d argue that it appeared at least 4-5 years ago if not earlier. And it’s hard for me to tell the extent to which The Thing is contributing to the rise in Jack Antonoff haterism of the past half decade. The reason I bring it up is that being cognizant of The Thing is different than being floored by its absolute overuse/oversaturation/overreliance (take your pick and then soften it a little) on the Bleachers self titled album. The latter I was last month. The Thing is not bad, it just is. That’s all.

Honestly one of the reasons I was so surprised when hearing Bleachers is that it really cemented how important understanding the context of The Thing is for identifying The Thing itself. I almost think it’s more obvious that Jack is using The Thing when the part that’s playing it is not as front-and-center. If said part is front-and-center then it’s given extreme musical importance. However, the Thing is important as an additive feature, and it’s rarely the main idea. Textural complexity is often subtle and so is The Thing. Similarly, The Thing is useful rhythmically when it’s repetitive and harmonically when it’s static. It’s the marriage of these three features that identify The Thing and that give The Thing value.

Here is an “annotated bibliography,” if you will, of examples of recent Jack Antonoff songs that employ The Thing. Note that this is a biased sample from songs I know/like/listen to enough to have them paged into my memory for constructing this argument. I did not do a comprehensive deep dive of Jack’s recent projects to come up with this list. Don’t take this as a timeline of The Thing’s existence. Also, this is highly subjective and there can be overlap between these categories. IMO they all kind of count as The Thing but I’m breaking it up for the purpose of illustration. You know how it is...

The “obvious use of The Thing” category:

“I Am Right On Time” (Bleachers) - good example of many The Thing and The Thing-adjacent parts! The gist of the song is a medium-high tempo song that steadily builds up. Part of the way Jack achieves this is by having a single electric guitar strum the same chord on 2 and 4 to create a backbeat. There’s also the ostinato (staccato synth rhythm on beats 2, 3, and 4) and single note (also just a single synth) that you can hear in the first and second verses and then continuing as the song builds to the end. All are very clearly establishing the key of the song and remaining at that center while the melody and chords change.

“Self Respect” (Bleachers) - in this category because of the large number of The Thing things. At very least, I’m counting the arpeggiated chord and the syncopated piano rhythm as appearances of The Thing. This song has the same ethos of “I Am Right On Time,” excitement built as the song becomes more musically busy. The Thing helps in that endeavor by contributing thickness, again mostly texturally and rhythmically, to the song.

“Me Before You” (Bleachers) - most notable instance of The Thing/its beginning in this song is that syncopated synth rhythm that starts at the beginning of the first verse and plays throughout the rest of the majority of the song. I put this song in this category, as opposed to the third, because I think this is a good example of the most basic/simple form of The Thing. At its core, The Thing is just playing around with how much of the root can be folded in to a song without crossing the threshold of making it sound “boring” or static or like something you’ve heard before. This part is just playing the same rhythm on one note. Because there’s not as much dynamic excitement/variation in this song, The Thing does less legwork than in other songs. But you can see how this could be the logical beginning for overreliance on The Thing.

“Isimo” (Bleachers) - Same explanation as above. The hemiola rhythm is just played over and over on the root. To me this part seems to be working pretty equally for rhythm, harmony, and texture.

The “eh, you could argue either way” category:

“Alma Mater” (Bleachers) - In the last minute or so there’s a lilting sax part that’s mostly there for textural/rhythmic purposes. Nonetheless, I think it’s a little ditty in the spirit of The Thing.

“Tiny Moves” (Bleachers) - This one is tricky and, in my opinion, easier to argue against. The main synth part (quarter notes of the 2-3 notes clustered around the root) is particularly salient as not clearly The Thing but clearly Thing-adjacent. The part is rhythmic, of course, but also plays a fairly important harmonic part in establishing the key center and keeping it relevant at all times. It has enough slight variation to make the song fun in a quirky way.

“The 1975” (The 1975) - Included because it’s very similar in spirit to “Tiny Moves.” Again, the quasi-randomness in this song makes it interesting and effective. Whether you like it or not, it is, at the very least, Thing-adjacent.

“91” (Bleachers) - The Point of this song is that repeated cello ostinato. Of course it doesn’t move. That’s The Point. That’s…The Thing, if you will.

“Question…?” (Taylor Swift) - Syn-co. Pa-ted. Synth-sound. Same-notes. The-Thing. Or-not. It-could. Just-be. The-synth. That-comps. The-chords. Your-choice.

The “The Thing, but more so its ontological beginning” category:

“Free” (Florence + The Machine) - all I can say is: B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B (break for the bridge and Florence’s ethereal vocals) B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B-B

“Looking For Somebody (To Love)” (The 1975) - all I can say is: A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A (break for the bridge - at this point I should acknowledge that it’s not like this the whole time and, yes, the bass very much matters and there is a “stronger/more obvious” chord progression in this song than “Free”) A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A-A

“Anti-Hero” (Taylor Swift) - all I can say is: E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E-E (okay you get the picture, also in this song there is a bit more variation from seminal The Thing because other synth parts are loudly playing other notes in the chord progression)

“The Archer” (Taylor Swift) - good song! Don’t you love how much C there is? Don’t you?! But that’s what helps make it work so well, in case that wasn’t clear. Oh there’s some variation too. But… C *hold for 3 minutes*

“mirrorball” (Taylor Swift) - another good example of the beginning of The Thing. The reason this song feels so “hazy” is that one of the guitars is just constantly playing the root chord, and any dissonance these chords’ individual notes’ dissonance have with other chords’ notes starts to melt away as you just get more entrenched in the first mode. (That is, it’s literally just vibes.) You can draw a very clear through-line between this sound and the next 3 years of Jack’s work.

IMO the reason The Thing is is not a vocally disliked part Jack Antonoff’s production style or music is that it’s hard to get your generic-enjoyer-of-western-pop-music to truly dislike songs that are so very drenched in “the ionian mode” or “the key” or whatever you want sum it up as. (Myself included—I hate neither Jack’s music nor The Thing.) If you’re playing a pop song only in the key of G then the more G you add, usually the better. The more D you add, often the better. The more B you add, yeah, sometimes-to-often the better. We—our ears and brains—have been trained to love and crave a certain amount that sameness, that root-iness, “the 1” (iykyk 🤪). Artists can, should, do evolve—and Jack has...and still, I don’t see people naming The Thing as what they hate about his music. Until twitter randos’ criticism becomes just slightly more targeted/technical I’m inclined to believe it is truly just nebulous haterism instead of, for example, constructive feedback about his style. I digress.

(If you’re wondering, my hypothesis for The Thing’s rise in prevalence over the last few years is to attribute it to the coincidental rise of whisper-y girl bedroom pop plus a subconscious sonic backlash to the pop music that dominated the late 2010s, specifically 2017-2018. In fairness, I don’t listen to a lot of either of those things so I don’t have good evidence off the top of my head for this theory. But, like, I’m sure Ed Sheeran has used The Thing too. Just a hypothesis, ya know.)

Here’s a far more fascinating line of inquiry that I’m trying to explore (still not sure what my answer is though): Can The Thing’s relevance, of course related to its artistic usefulness/ubiquity but also specifically Jack’s prominence in pop music, potentially be understood through the lens of an aesthetic?

To argue that The Thing has aesthetic value would be to argue that its virtues of textural, rhythmic, and harmonic complexity are more highly prized than the music produced avoiding/excluding that. Do we truly value the sensory experiences of being bathed in a singular note, a singular chord? Do we like that more than when we feel pulled in a strong current of a harmonic cadence? It’s clear we like The Thing because we’re nowhere close to, for instance, rioting at its very appearance like crowds did when they heard the dissonance of Shostakovich’s “The Rite of Spring.” But how much do we really love The Thing? Do we value it only because it’s highly available—Jack Antonoff still being a preeminent purveyor of pop music—and because we perceive few ways to escape his sonic influence? How much do we account for the fact that he did not invent The Thing? If we truly do love The Thing, when did this came about, originally and recently? Why would we truly love The Thing?

A final digression: I do think the shift towards use of The Thing this should be a credit to Jack. Over the last half decade, Jack has shown more restraint from a textural and dynamic point of view and been able to exercise that restraint to create warmer and more complex soundscapes. That kind of restraint helps “the softs seem softer and the louds seem louder.” It’s given us fan favorite songs like “august.” Whether this shift towards textural complexity more fully proxying for dynamic complexity is truly at the expense of, for example, more interesting harmonic complexity—well, maybe. The Thing need not imply such a zero sum game, though perhaps the data is skewed in favor of that conclusion right now. However, credit for artistic growth does not mean that growth should stop. It’s important to try out new ideas. Would the audience truly being sick of The Thing be a catalyst for another shift in Jack’s style? Only time will tell.

I’m not trying to turn this post into a referendum on whether Jack Antonoff’s music is good. The reason I point out The Thing as part of the current period of Jack’s style/work is that it is quite different than what he initially gained prominence for. Whether this shift means "good" or "bad" resulting music is purely opinion (mine is in favor of "good"). But above all I think we should value when artists change because they find something new exciting and fruitful.

If you asked someone, gun to their head, to describe Jack Antonoff’s “sound,” I’m not sure they would mention The Thing. He got famous for stuff like big drums, 80s synths, huge chord progressions for epic songs. He loves the 1-4-6-4 so much, is what I’d say if I had this gun to my head. His earlier work is very “I am going to make it obvious which chords you’re hearing, and when I pair that with some epic drums it’s going to sound cool.” Now, the chord changes are more “implied” (termed loosely). The tradeoffs he’s explored is that the more The Thing he uses, the more significant the choice of the degree to which to fill out the chord progression; the more the literal volume of the lowest bass notes matter; the more selective, sometimes, he has to be with adding percussion. Encountering and grappling with these tradeoffs is not bad. Jack Antonoff has made different music because he’s explored these tradeoffs. I, for one, find it funny that people say in the last decade he hasn’t grown or changed at all as an artist.

#anonymous #qs #jack anotonoff #bleachers #anyways someone help meeeeeeee I know The Thing has a name #I’m thinking of like what specifically charlie puth might do #he sits down at a piano to make a tiktok and he’s like #one thing I just love is ugh. cow you can take a C major triad #right like *brrm (G)* *brrrm (C)* *brm (E)*#and then you know you have a C here like *bruuummm* (C) and it’s like #yeah that's nice great C major but then!#you could take that C *bruuum (C)* and move it down to an F!#and then you keep the G C E and you get a nice major 9 chord like!#*brumm (F)* *brm (G)* *brrr (C)* *brrrrrm (E)*#yeah!

1 note · View note

galaxywarp · 2 years

Text

sitting in the bathtub at 11 in the morning and feeling a random burning desire to say something I’ve been wanting to say for awhile

most of you already know that im in recovery from a severe fentanyl/heroin addiction. as of today, im over 2 and a half years clean from it

but. It hasn’t been the only drug I’ve struggled with. and after dropping noncommittal hints about it for months im randomly feeling brave enough to admit that I was using meth for a long time after getting off of fentanyl to combat the withdrawal symptoms

and …. It’s only recently that I’ve been able to make real strides towards getting off of that as well

and I’m kind of tired of pretending this problem doesn’t exist, because it makes it so much harder to reach out for help when I need it, and it leads to me isolating and keeping secrets that ultimately just keep me sick

meth helped a lot when I first started , you know? The physical symptoms of fentanyl withdrawal were complete agony, but the mental affects were also excruciating. I was so depressed. Constantly sad. Constantly tired. No motivation whatsoever to even be alive — I could barely take care of myself as far as eating and sleeping, but I still had to work and finish my degree and PRETEND like I didn’t want to die all the time so that loved ones wouldn’t worry

and then I found meth. and suddenly I had energy!!! I could do things again! I was productive and sociable and enjoying even remedial tasks!! Everything felt great and it was easy, for awhile, to successfully pretend like I was back to being a functional human being

until it stopped working. and it started hurting. and I didn’t sleep for weeks, and my brain went on the fritz from how much I was exhausting and abusing the chemicals it needed to be stable. I fell into trances where I would self harm for hours on end. I would freak out and cry until I threw up. I cycled between being totally catatonic and insanely energetic. And my mind and body suffered a lot of damage that I tried to deny was happening because I was terrified of facing whoever it was that I was without drugs.

It had been so long, so many years…I was so scared of being sober when I had spent so much time hiding inside the familiar numbness of drugs. I didn’t know how to exist without them. I didn’t know if I could

But here we are. Here I am. Almost a solid month clean from it all. And I feel ……. Good. I feel stable. I feel genuinely content most days, and it’s such a blissful thing to know that it’s truly how I feel and not being artificially fabricated by some drug.

I’m sorry for hiding this for so long. I was scared and ashamed, and I didn’t want to admit to anyone — including myself — that addiction is not something I have “gotten over”, but instead it’s going to be a lifelong struggle with ups and downs and setbacks and imperfections

but ..that’s what it means to be human, I suppose.

if you read this, thank you for listening.

65 notes · View notes

roscgcld · 4 years

Text

GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]

anime: jujutsu kaisen

character: gojo satoru

pronouns: she/her

notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader

the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.

“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”

Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.

With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.

“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”

It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”

“How do you ask a girl out?”

“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”

“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”

“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”

Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”

“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”

Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”

“Do you really want me to answer that?”

The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.

Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.

Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.

So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.

“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”

Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”

“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”

Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.

There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.

Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.

And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.

He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”

The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.

Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”

“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”

The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.

His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance

“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”

A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.

Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.

He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”

Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.

“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”

With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two

Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x you #satory gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk satoru #satoru #satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff

2K notes · View notes

the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo · 3 years

Text

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader

Here's a little something I cooked up. Not sure what I want to do with it, but it was bugging me to be written. For better or worse.

This is a little Helmut Zemo/Female Reader moment. It has Sam and Bucky too. It's not fully developed, but hopefully you all can enjoy it for what it is.

OOOOO

You were in Germany when you got the call from Sam. He needed help locating the Flag-Smashers, and was hoping you could offer some assistance.

He just happened to call at the perfect time, because as it turns out, the person you went to visit was no longer around. So, since you had essentially made a trip across the ocean for nothing; you figured, why not? Might as well make something of your travels abroad and not make it a total loss.

Sam gave instructions to meet him at a residence in Riga, Latvia. He mentioned very little other than that. Technically though, that wasn't entirely his fault. You're pretty sure he intended to provide more information, but Bucky was shouting, "Hellos.", "You've been missed!", and her personal favorite, an exasperated, "Please save me from my tormentor."

After Bucky's outburst, Sam had seemed to have forgotten about you on the phone; so you were just listening to constant bickering in the background. All you could do was shake your head and laugh at this point. Truly, Earth's greatest defenders were simply children at times.

It was good to hear their laughs. It had been too long and the world was still recovering.

We all were.

Bucky, Sam, and you all disappeared when Thanos snapped his fingers, wiping out half the universe. When you all returned, there was love and there was loss all around, but it bonded the three of you in a friendship deeper than any of you could imagine.

Okay, perhaps, that's a slight exaggeration. You became extremely good friends with both James and Sam; however, the two of them are a different story altogether. They won't admit to their friendship, but you know they'll both come around one day. They're just being stubborn idiots. God, she missed those two guys. It's been months since she had laid eyes either one of them.

So, here you are, standing right out front the door Sam gave instructions to meet at.

You fiddled with the arm of the backpack strapped across your chest. You didn't think you'd be this nervous, but a combination of excitement and adrenaline had caused you to be a bit jumpy. You tried to shrug it off as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

Not even 10 seconds after you knocked on the door you heard the shuffle of footsteps, accompanied with the ever present response of, "I got it."

Only the footsteps halted abruptly and muffled discussions were faintly heard through the door. You couldn't make out what was being said, only that no further movement had been made to answer the door.

I swear to God, if they are simply having an argument about who gets to open the door, I am going to murder them both on the spot.

You were about to knock on the door again a bit more insistently, but you never got the chance as the door abruptly swung open to reveal Bucky.

As you stared back at one another, you couldn't help but noticed his tense appearance, which is not all that unusual for him, but it was a more strained posture. You assumed it had something to do with whatever was being talked about just moments prior to answering the door.

It couldn't have been too serious because seconds later he dropped all pretense and gave you a heartfelt smile before sweeping you up in his arms for a hug.

He all but dragged you inside, it only caused you to chuckle at his enthusiasm. Yeah, you had missed him a lot.

The hug continued to linger on, and you could hear the door behind you close. You were about to motion to Bucky to release you from his hold when you heard Sam pipe in highly amused, "Buck, give her some room to breath."

You could feel the glare James was giving Sam, but he did let you go eventually.

Upon the release from your hug, the sleeves of your blue hoodie had drifted past your hands; you pushed them up a bit where you could grab James's hand and squeeze it in silent thanks.

After letting go of Bucky, you turned around to face Sam, shaking your head and grinning at him with delight, "Never a dull moment around here is there?"

"Never," Sam replied. "It's my turn, now," holding his arms out, he smiled pulling you into a softer embrace, but no less enthusiastic.

You huffed out a laugh and hugged him back with equal fervor.

A few moments had passed, and you reluctantly untangled yourself from Sam. More pleasantries had been exchanged and small talk had filled up the space as you walked fully into open living space.

You did a turn about the room as you headed towards the kitchen area with the guys trailing behind you. You had grabbed the strap of your backpack and had lifted it over your head.

You were about to place your stuff on the kitchen island when you heard soft footfalls make their way from the outer hallway towards you.

The unexpected noise caused you to hesitate; you turned your head towards Sam and James with a puzzled expression on your face. You had opened your mouth with the intention to ask them who else was in the safe house with you, when you saw him.

The backpack you were holding had fallen out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud, but you couldn't tear your eyes off the man standing across the room from you now. Your face had gone completely slack jaw and eyes had widen in shock leaving you speechless.

You would normally have said something quippy in this moment, but your brain had stopped functioning.

The silence was finally broken from Sam's response to the situation.

"Okay, I know what this looks like. We can explain him," Sam cautiously said. "Actually, Bucky should be the one to share this story, since it was his idea."

You could hear the words Sam was saying, but they never really registered. You assumed he thought you were shocked because the man who stood in front of you once tore your friends a part. Because he was supposed to be in a prison in Germany. Any other number of reasons could potentially be listed. What Sam didn't realize, was that the man standing before you was the last person you saw before you disintegrated before his eyes, and this was the first time since that chaos you had seen him again.

Other than Sam's calm reply, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps it was because the same look of shock and awe was reflected on Zemo's face.

You tried to form a response, something, anything to say.

Neither Sam or Bucky knew you used to visit Zemo after he was imprisoned. Whenever you travelled to Germany, you would tell them you had a contact that only agreed to provide information face to face. They never put two and two together, but they also trusted you implicitly; so they had no reason to ever question your motives or who exactly you were going to see. You actually saw Zemo a fair amount of time. More often than not, it was always to learn about the inner workings of Hydra. While they may be diminished in capacity; they still had not been completely eradicated. And you were determined to locate and destroy every remaining Hydra base, and dismantle them once and for all. They took your parents from you, and you were going to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone ever again. So, Zemo had been the obvious choice to help gain as much information as possible in your quest.

So, over the course of 2 years, you had made several trips to see him. You could almost say you were on friendly terms, but mostly, you believed his kindness and willingness to provide information was a benefit to him. To interact with someone on the outside to remind him he's not completely alone in the world.

The last time you saw each other was a day like any other you would come to visit. You'd lean outside his glass cell and just talk. The prison only allotted an hour's visit. So you always had to make your time worth while.

This particular day was colder than usual for the time of year. And being left outside the prison hallway where Zemo's cell was located only caused the draft to further lower the temperature with the concrete walls. You had involuntarily shivered as a cold draft had blasted in from one of hallways. Zemo had taken notice and unzipped his hoodie, passing it off to the guard to hand over to you. In that moment, the realization came that things were no longer black and white between the two of you. When you asked him why, he simply shrugged and said it's what any gentleman should do. His expression had softened though and was no longer outwardly indifferent. You had put on the blue garment and zipped it up; tugging at the sleeves as the hoodie was much larger on your frame than his.

There was only about 30 minutes left of your visit when alarm bells started going off. Zemo had pushed himself against the glass to look down the closest hallway to try and see what was going on. You had tried to remain calm, but when the guard standing nearby had disappeared right in front of you both, you knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With visible panic on your face, you had whispered out the word Thanos to Zemo. You'll never forget what happened next or the expression on his face. There was a hitch in your lungs and a strong tugging sensation drifting through your chest. You stumbled into the glass and fell to your knees in front of Zemo. You had slumped onto your side trying to concentrate on what was happening to you. You peered up at Zemo as he had slid himself down the glass to your level gazing at you in concern. You could hear him shouting for help, but there was no one around. You placed your hand on the glass to get his attention, and only then did you realize, you had tears in your eyes.

He brought his hand up on the other side of the glass and placed it against where yours was. Funny how an instance can change everything between two people. You saw his eyes widen and that's when you noticed the right side of your body started to turn to dust. All you had time to say was, "I'm sorry," before you completely disintegrated before him, leaving him, no doubt, alone once again.

You would have laughed at the expression on his face now if you knew it hadn't been the first time he's seen you since....what happened. But there was nothing really funny about the situation.

You weren't quite sure what to do, but your feet made the decision for you as you slowly made your way to stand directly in front of Zemo.

It's the first time you've stood together without any glass between you both. He's a bit taller than you, but not by miles; you're chin roughly comes up to his shoulder.

You see him swallow as if he's also thinking of something to say, but instead you see him raise his hand up and start to reach out to touch you, but stops before actually doing it. Internally, you make your choice for him and reach up with your hand and grab the one he's left hanging in the air. It's just a light touch, almost as if you're both worried the other might not be real.

Zemo glanced down at you holding onto his hand and back at you briefly. He squeezed your hand gently and then you heard him release a harsh breath before gripping your hand tighter and yanking you into his arms.

You barely had time to think about what was happening before you were enveloped into the most emotional hug you've ever felt.

The reaction was unexpected, but then so were the circumstances you were in, so nothing should really surprise you, but you were. Your arms were slightly hovering over his back, not entirely sure at that moment what you wanted to do, as you were still in shock. But, after a brief pause you brought your arms firmly around his body and hugged Zemo back with just as much care and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You heard him mumbling words into the side of your head, but couldn't understand what he was really saying.

Time could have been standing still for the infinite period we were latched onto one another. It wasn't until the clearing of Bucky's throat that jarred us out of the moment. The noise wasn't loud, but the room had been so silent until then; it sounded like a freight train.

Realization must have hit us both at the same time that we weren't alone in the room, and we jumped apart as if lightning had struck us both.

At this point, you were looking at anything in room, but Zemo. You started playing with the ends of your sleeves in nervousness when Sam spoke up in a very slow and deliberate manner, "Would you care to explain to us, what is going on?"

"I thought you were going to have Bucky explain to me, why Zemo's not in prison!" you say back, not ready at all to try and explain things. You still needed to wrap your own head around it, before attempting to share your brief history with Zemo.

"Oh, no doll. This can wait," James answered. You could tell he was not happy, but maybe more confused than anything by how he responded.

Both were assessing Zemo to try and figure out if this is some sort of game to him. Bucky had reached out to grab your arm and pulled you gently away from the criminal mastermind and closer to them to instinctually protect you from him.

You outwardly sighed, knowing there was a long conversation about to happen.

Zemo took a step forward and James took a step back bringing you with him. Sam seemed perturbed over the entire situation, but Zemo spoke up first.

"Is that, what I think it is?" he said. Zemo cocked his head to the side and eyed you with amusement.

You silently shook off the hold Bucky has on you and raise an eyebrow at him to not try that again. You swiveled back to Zemo, placing your hands on your hips. Confusion was written clearly on your face as you answered him back, "Could you be a little less vague?" A small smile graced your face in reply.

Zemo pointed at your midsection and a smug expression appeared on his face.

"I must say, you look quite fetching in my clothes."

You were physically startled by his comment. You had forgotten you were wearing his hoodie. It's why you went to Germany. To return it to him, but when you found out he was no longer there, you realized you were going to have to either keep it permanently or track him down. Sam's call came in before you could make that decision. Fate really is something else.

Your hands grabbed the fabric of the hoodie as you closed your eyes and ducked your head. You could feel the embarrassment threatening to turn your whole face red.

You started to shuffled away knowing an immediate outburst was coming from both of her friends. What Zemo just said, implied so many different things. So, of course Sam and Bucky would start shouting without having any context to the situation of how you acquired a piece of his clothing.

If the floor could have opened up at that moment, you would have appreciated it.

Sam and Bucky were both visibly upset and clearly about to start a fight with Zemo, but thankfully Sam, being the more even tempered of the group, stopped Bucky from doing anything. He had shrugged off Sam and stared at you with hurt on his face.

You exhaled shakily as things started to calm down. You dared to catch a glimpse of Zemo, and of course, out of everyone here, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy causing the chaos he wrought with his sly comment.

If looks could kill, he would have been flayed alive.

"Enough," you said to everyone. It was time to clear the air. "Let's all just take a seat."

You had gotten exasperated by the entire situation and turned to Bucky and Sam, "Do you automatically have to jump to conclusions? Do you not think there is a perfectly logical explanation, somewhere?" You had slapped your hands down by your sides and turned to Zemo. He looked as if he were about to say something, but you cut him off pointing a finger at him.

"And you. Big trouble. Don't even get me started."

As you stared at Zemo; he at least had the decency to appear somewhat contrite at your scolding. You could still tell he was mildly amused about the whole situation.

You saw Sam had taken a seat and started to wave you over to where he and Bucky were.

"Start talking," he said.

"I'm not sure where to start," you answered, pacing back and forth.

"How about the beginning?" Bucky parroted out arms crossed in front of him, he was clearly still a bit defensive.

"The beginning. Right. Sure. I can do that," you stopped to think about how to start, but everything just seemed to be as if you were actually hiding something from them, when you weren't. It just never came up, and The Blip was emotional for everyone.

Truth be told, you would like to avoid this conversation at all costs. For many reasons, some you're not ready to deal with.

Zemo had spoke up while you were deciding how to broach the subject at hand.

"If I may," he spoke.

The three of us had answered him simultaneously, "No!"

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

OOOOO

#helmut zemo #baron zemo #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #helmut zemo x reader #fanfic #my writing #oh god #this is probably terrible #i only quickly wrote this when i woke up #so i hope it's not too bad of a read

219 notes · View notes

padawansuggest · 2 years

Text

IT IS SYRINGOMYELIA AWARENESS MONTH APPARENTLY!!! A few facts about the condition for those of you that wanna know:

I do not have Chiari Malformation (which is where the skull is too short to hold the brain so that’s why the syrinx forms) which is the main cause of syringomyelia in both humans and animals. I am in the very rare percentage of an already extremely rare condition.

This is a degenerative/progressive condition that is almost impossible to recover from.

It is caused when there is a fluid filled cyst inside your spinal cord. This pushes nerves out in all directions which causes nerve… it’s not quite damage, but it acts like damage. My nerves translate most forms of heat and warmth as painful, as well as causing extreme bowel and bladder pain that feels like ants in my bowels and a lead balloon in my bladder. It’s very painful.

I have this cyst/syrinx (the term syrinx is the term for a cyst in your spine itself) in the exact same spot that my brother had several tumors, except his were on the outside of his brain stem/spinal cord, and mine inside. This means that his was operable, while mine can only be operable under very specific circumstances. We both see the same neurologist and he is very intrigued about how both our conditions were formed in-womb and legit looked like he wanted to study us when I first met him lol.

The operable conditions are when I have a 100% chance of going paralyzed because the conditions is pushing on the right nerves and they stop reacting entirely. The reason that this is the operable condition to remove the syrinx (which isn’t so much removing it as… popping it… which also means it can grow back…) is because that surgery itself has a 50% chance of paralysis as well. So, 50% chance of keeping from being paralyzed vs a 100% chance of being paralyzed, means that in that case the surgery wins.

I take gabapentin 4 times a day, every six hours, 100mg for every hour of the day. Gabapentin is a nerve medication that peaks in usage around 2-4 hours in, and after 6 hours it starts to leave your system. Which is why I went from 8 hours for 800mg to 6 hours for 600mg. Because the meds always wore off before I could take the next dose and left me in pain again.

Because of my condition I have degenerative muscles. I have a million things to fight here (top of which are a chronic fatigue and allergies that both get me down plus IBS if I eat something wrong oooof) but because of my conditions I can never hold a job outside of the house. I can barely attempt one in the house too. Im working on starting my own work with my preferred craft and my father supports me (in both love and finances but we live together so it’s not hard) because that’s probably gonna be the only way I have my own income in life. I work with fiber, wool mostly, making and using yarn. Mostly making. Mixing the fibers together on expensive equipment that i waited so long to save up for. I have a lot invested in it. It’s one of my special interests too, so it’s really nice to have that as work. Dad is disabled with special interests too, so he gets it.

Because of all of this, I’m actually in a program slightly more… intense, than PT. My town is a college town and in the college (the gym of which is DIRECTLY across the street from my apartment I’m super lucky with that) we have a program called Wellness Elevated. This is where you get a full semester’s access to the gym for the college/public (which is separated from the gym across the building which is for sports kids so there’s no fighting over room it’s smarter) where they give you a personal student trainer in the sports fitness program. These students are training to tailor a routine to each person’s needs. This program got me from low mobility and constant backaches to mid-low mobility. I can function and even leave the house at least half my days now. I’m even hoping to just. Go outside. During this summer. Bring a backpack with emergency meds and stuff and go to the park and stuff.

Sometimes (and I know this is connected cause other people with syringomyelia say this too) I have off days where I drop things CONSTANTLY. Like, there’s this weird ass signal in my brain that keeps opening my nerves or something. It’s strange and none of us know why it happens, but we all agree it’s like our brain isn’t sending the right signals that day. It’s wild. The muscles and such are fine, the hand just keeps opening to drop things.

I’m asexual and consider my libido to sort of be an annoyance more than anything. I am on several pills that destroy sex drive and that shit’s godly. Just wreck it I’m done, I’m bored, I’m over it. My pills are not for those that actively like and want sex. I am on so many pills and every new pill I get further from the norm and I love it. I know others hate it but I’m delighted not to be there anymore.

I also have autism, OCD, anxiety (which I was informed that OCD is an anxiety disorder itself which means that’s a given, and not that anxiety is a biproduct of OCD. Other way around.), ADHD, mysophonia, pica, and a few other scattered issues. I give the therapists my list, and they give me concerned looks.

Um. Idk what else. I have syringomyelia and this is a bit of what it’s like to be me.

#syringomyelia #actually disabled #syringomyelia awareness month #personal

17 notes · View notes

karezzasstuff · 3 years

Text

From the project of interviewing Stanley S. Bass about his experiences with Karezza techniques, The Life Science Publishing created the 2008 book Energy-Karezza. Here Dr. Bass tells the story of how, in his 30’s, he was on his way to become a celibate yogi through Brahmacharya, when he learned about reaching the same spiritual goal via Karezza & Tantra. He decided to try Karezza instead.

Even though his personal goal was spiritual, Dr. Bass soon discovered that women loved Karezza, and couldn’t get enough. When he started teaching the improved Energy-Karezza method to couples with marital problems, the results were astounding. Usually, within weeks, the couple had fallen in love again. Problematic marriages healed, becoming more and more harmonious and stronger with time.

Over time, over 50+ years, he not only gained experience concerning every aspect of Karezza/Tantra, but also – thanks to his energy-understanding, being an orthopathic doctor – developed an improved, more powerful & easy-to-learn, version. Traditional “Karezza/Tantra” can be difficult for men, but “Energy-Karezza/Tantra” is easy, and also gives more pleasure & prolongation..

INTRODUCING OTHERS TO KAREZZA

youtube

Karezza is about one thing, the man has to control himself. It is so easy. I got so good at this control that I soon was able to go almost a whole year with no accidents. With very heavy sex - three times a week, four hours each session. It didn't take long to get to a high level of proficiency.

In a few months I was very good at it already.

It is very simple, it is natural. It is not difficult. Prove it for yourself, don't take my word for it. Try it out. The first time I heard about it, it was strange to me, so I tried it. It didn't take me long to get good at it. It was easier than I thought. In fact, I taught Karezza to a lot of friends, and everyone had success.

If one of them asked me, "how do I know if it will work?", I gave him a simple method of trying it. I usually said, "why don't you first try:

1. Don't have an orgasm quickly, but wait until the woman is finished, until she has had her enjoyment. Practice holding back for half an hour, for an hour, for several hours, if you can.

2. Then you'll see that your own orgasms are better; they are more enjoyable.

3. Also try having an orgasm only every other time you have sex.

Skipping one time. Every other time, try without orgasm. See how you feel."

With my sex students, those were my instructions, to begin with. These instructions summarize basic traditional Karezza. But these simple instructions could still be difficult for some men. They lost control (ejaculated) early, and were never able to do Karezza for a full hour.

Therefore, to make it easier, I gave my students some Energy-Karezza secrets. I asked them to improve their diet, and to avoid alcohol and all drugs. I told them not to eat before sex, because a man can not control himself after he has eaten. Why? Because then too much blood goes to the stomach.

Also, I gave very detailed instructions on the best movements in sex. I told them to move slowly, and explained how to move, so they wouldn't get too excited, e.g. sideways, in semicircles, avoiding the in-out moves.

For the premature ejaculators, I told them to give up salt, and to not use anything spicy hot, avoid hot peppers, stay away from spices, because this throws them out of control. And then I told them to use certain motions, slow motions, that makes it easy to control oneself. That's all.

Then the women will get the pleasure, because the men are controlling themselves.

For some men the pleasure was so overwhelming that they were still unable to control themselves very long, more than perhaps 45 minutes, even if their diet was good and they had high vitality. In these cases I think the solution is just doing it over and over. Sometimes men, just like women, may need saturation with lots of high-pleasure peak orgasms, before they can start with serious self-control and higher-pleasure valley orgasms. It may take months, but in the end they will get there.

I myself was never overly concerned with the clitoris or the G-spot, because the Karezza was so enjoyable and I was so good at it that a woman couldn't hold out long. If they wanted to have an orgasm, they could have it quick. Women enjoyed it.

The women were very happy. After beginning Karezza, it became unnecessary to calculate all this stuff. I never had to actually figure it out.

All I did was to function naturally, the way I felt like, without thinking about it. And it was right, for every woman. If one gets too mechanical about it, one becomes a dud. Then it is not real. Real sex has nothing to do with the brain, it has to do with feelings, true feelings and movement.

That's all. The brain is not needed.

From page 45 the Technique to Paradise.

🍎🐍🏖️

YAB YUM

What are you experiencing?

~ by yab yum

Be patient. At first you can't experience the orgasmic part of this process. Some get it on their first try and for some it can take years. Keep practicing with the exercise your teacher gives you. Even if you don't experience the orgasm, just the breath and energy circling alone is of great value. It will clear blocks so that eventually the orgasm can pass through you. Blocks can be experienced in many ways – crying, gagging, getting frustrated, resurfacing old memories. Just keep breathing. Visualize letting go of the "old" on the exhale, ringing out the "new" on the inhale. Energy levels will most likely rise and fall, like mercury in a thermometer. Tell your partner where it slipped. Your partner will encourage you to tap into your sexual center when energy is slipping. One of the main keys to learning this technique is KNOWING that it is possible.

(When asked if she had an orgasm, Sara responded 🙂

It was uninterrupted, uninterrupted… This was definitely something else, which I have never experienced so fully.

(Sara was then asked if there were any psychological changes.)

Oh yes, sure. From the point of view of spiritual practice it is always full of insight, a kind of insight that comes after, about how I am in ecstasy in my usual state, because it is obvious that the ecstasy is inherent in the body (level), of my being… and also of course this would affect my meditation. I am much more relaxed and receptive physically, emotionally and psychologically when I sit down to meditate…. I don't know what this has to do with anything, but meditation becomes very sexual, very physical, playing with all these hormones. Very often in my meditation there is a stage like deepening where it goes through something like lovemaking in a hormonal sense. I feel the heat and change of energy and so forth, and then it just cools down. That is when deep meditation begins.

It is absolutely blissful in ecstasy because the bliss is something I feel in the body. The ecstasy is something where the body is no longer. Energy goes up. His community. It is love. The transcendent, the energy feeling, transcends even the light that I'm talking about in meditation, and just went into the light.

One tree merges with another tree, the earth merges with the trees, the trees merge with the sky, the sky merges with the unknown...you merge with me, I merge with you...everything merges...differences lost, melting and merging as waves into other waves…an enormous unity vibrating, alive, without limits, without definitions, without distinction…the sage melting into the sinner, the sinner flowing together in the sage…becoming good becoming bad, becoming bad…the night turning into the day, day turning into night… life melts into death, death plunges into life again – then everything has become one.

This has changed my experience with sexuality forever… It has blown up things like this what you have about sex, the good feeling you get from sexual experience or trying to get. It broke that because it was so obviously about submission. It wasn't about me trying to do something. It was about not doing something, but rather receiving or allowing it, rather than doing and creating and making.

This is the most profound healing practice I have ever encountered. It has awakened me to realize that my body is often shut off from the bliss and ecstasy it might be experiencing. Through this practice I have come to learn that emotional pain occurs when orgasmic energy does not flow freely through my body and that there is an infinite flow of orgasmic energy available to me. It has taken me years to gradually release the tension and pain in my body and I still have areas of tension to unblock. The sensations can be different each time depending on my condition, sometimes there is a pulsating vibration and sometimes it feels like some kind of electrical current circulating through my genitals throughout my body. There may be tears of joy. My mind can be perfectly clear and it can seem like everything I feared has been resolved. When a certain area of tension is unblocked and the orgasmic energy circulates, there is always an amazing sense of oneness with the life being awakened.

Mel 40 Auckland

My teacher knew how to touch – and where to make contact – He knew places to touch that I didn't know about – and soon I was on my way to another place in another universe. I was in a trance of breathing and sweat and pleasure that so long and so dead do had gone – that I traveled through light and sound. I never knew that such an experience could be had without actually making love. When I finally climaxed and climaxed and climaxed, I couldn't believe I was having a sexual climax in the presence of someone other than my husband. I felt both excitement and a little embarrassment. Looking back at this moment, I would never have thought that having an orgasm for another man would actually be the "beginning" of this whole journey in Tantra

Emma S 35

Auckland

And this is the joy of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm, because you disappear for a moment. That moment is very small, but its impact is immense. For a moment you are no longer the ego, you do not think in terms of 'I', for a moment you dissolve into the oneness of the all, you become one with the whole, you pulsate with the whole. You are no longer an individual… you are no longer limited to your body. You have no limitations, for a moment you are unlimited, infinite.

That is the meaning of Cosmic Spiritual Orgasm – that your frozen energy melts, becoming one with this universe, with the trees and the stars, and the woman and the man, and the rocks – for a single moment, of course. But in THAT moment you have a kind of consciousness that is religious, that is sacred, that is one with all things. – OSHO

Unbelievable! Some are very strong and some are wonderfully subtle. In general, the more time you spend building up the energy, the more powerful the sensations. You experience “electricity” throughout your body, hands, feet and lips tingle, and there is a sense of letting go and receiving at the same time. You will feel high, euphoric and light-headed. It feels very different from a clitoral orgasm (but it can happen at the same time as a clitoral orgasm). You see a seed sprout, flowers appear on a tree somewhere, the birds are singing – the whole phenomenon is sexual. It is life manifesting in many ways. When the bird sings, it is a sexual call, an invitation. When the flower attracts butterflies and bees, it is an invitation, because the bees and butterflies bear the seeds of reproduction. Everything seems to be divided into these two polarities. And life is a rhythm between these two opposites. Repulsion and attraction, coming closer and getting far… these are the rhythms.

#awakening #tantra #unconditionallove #karezza #nirvana #moksha #yabyum #freedom #liberty #hypocrisy #john lennon #the beatles #Youtube

115 notes · View notes

mimiri22-6 · 4 years

Text

Let's do this. One last time.

Ducktales 2017. I didn't think I was ready for the end, but the finale was too perfect to be sad nor angry.

There's so much to say-too much to say...and I'm going to try my best to say all of it.

EVERYONE IS HERE!! ENDGAME WHO?! DUCKTALES!!!!!

Seeing Webby and Scrooge interactions now, after watching this once, is just-They're So Soft! AND everything is just-AH I love it. It's so weird, but when is the family tree not screwy(also, Webby=Scrooge's clone? Webby=female? Trans Scrooge=Cannon?! I think Fucking So!)

Aaaaaaannd that's all we get from Gladstone and Fethry. If there's one thing I wish was in this episode more it would be more cousin interactions and Daisy. Though, Daisy not being too into it makes sense. Loved what we got of her tho. At least we got a little bit of them this episode, it was already pretty character packed

Well...Launchpad is only half wrong.

Oh wow. Oh Wow, I love this dynamic between LP, Drake, and Fenton...ot4? because I refuse to leave Gandra out. I love how Drake doesn't know about Fenton and Gizmo while it seems like everyone else in the world does. Still, LP/Drake and Gandra/Fenton some of my faves. So good

OH YEAH! Even the other 2 Caballeros are here!!

And the last adventure STARTS

I find it Fantastic how Dewey and Launchpad will probably die thinking F.O.W.L used the last level of a videogame as their secret layer layout

*sigh* This is why I avoid previews and wish I was better at avoiding theories from after those previews. I would have been more surprised and probably would have enjoyed this ep even more if I had Nothing to expect. But the theories were right. Tho, I did not expect how (or should I say Who) Webby was cloned from...though also I was spoiled by that when I was looking for the ep. Some ass used "Scrooge is Webby's dad" as a video title. I didn't think it was real, but I was wrong.

Awwww. Don has such a soft spot for kids

I love Lena and her development.

...*sigh* ok. "you've already got sisters" with this line, I am obligated to drop the Webby/Lena ship. I'm sorry, but it's one of my many rules for being ok with a ship. If the characters Ever say, even just once as an afterthought, they see each other as siblings or something similar, I will see them as that. It's why I've never been ok and have been uncomfortable with Shiro/Keith since Keith saved Shiro from...his clones...huh. So, from now on, I'm going to be Very uncomfortable with anything Weblena...even though the thought of them in the future was cute

HOW does a show about building ottomans have plot???

I wasn't sure how to feel about the clones All throughout this

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO HUEY JUST FIRST NAMED BEAKLEY!!!!!

GOLDIE AND DAISY ARE ON THE BOARD!!! SCORE!!

Oooooh. That picture of Webby's parents...is fake. It's like some picture Beakley took off the internet.

I saw a post saying how Della had to convince Donald to go on one last adventure and how she had to watch him almost die, but she really Didn't. She helped him pack and she was ready to let Donald go on his adventure("but Daisy's my adventure" They are too damn cute for their own damn good. I love them. donsy for the win), but an actual Crisis came up and he had to stay. Donald nearly dying by void was not Della's fault and if I see any more posts about how she roped Donald into a death mission, I will go up a wall and break a neck on my way down

Man, it's weird hearing this and knowing that Webby's parents don't exist

Wow! Beakley just knocked out Scrooge! Damn!

Oooh! The girls are fighting

...Woah. I just realized, the blood and brain of Scrooge McDuck and the training of Bentina Beakley. Webby is even more of a beast than we knew.

IS THAT DEVELOPMENT I HEAR!!! YOU KEEP THOSE KIDS BEHIND? YOU LOSE!!! GOOD DAY SIR!

Pepper. Just Pepper. She seems like one of your parent's nice coworkers that brings you brownies and pinches your cheeks

"Look after your brother." YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I JUST WANNA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DADRO YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!! IT IS OFICIALLY BOYD GEARLOSE NOW!! YEEEEE!!!!

I also really like that you can't tell which Gyro is telling that to

God, I Fucking Love the concept that is Manny. He's one of those things that if someone asked you about him outside of the fandom, you wouldn't even know where to start. It's absolutely FanFuckingTastic. He's the most magical thing in the universe? Fuck Yes, give that to me Now!

HE SPEAKS!!!!!!(I couldn't place his voice actor, but I when I looked him up I realized recognized him for Glossaryck from SVTFOE)

(Edit: Just found out that the scene with Manny was a Gargoyles ref. Nice!)

Once again, I love everything about LP, Drake, and Fenton

And then Lena Died

Aww, they both have such soft spots for children

LUDWIG VON DRAKE?!?!!!?! WHAT THE FUCK?!

(that had to be a different font because really, what the fuck)

He really did just say he was too busy to die. This duck is too powerful

(I really just don't have too much to say between all of this. I just love all of it)

Woo! Louie with the motivation!

Pft-how both of them are singing? Love to see it...wait, we don't see Don Karnage after this...DID HE DIE IN THAT CRASH?! DID DEWEY COMMIT HIS FIRST MURDER?!

"Welcome home, April." I hate you.

Of course he dabs

"he was like this when we found him." Nice to know Gos knows what to do in the event that she kills someone

Oh that's horrendous. I hate that

"Now, let's get down to business." TO DEF[get's shot]

Why is Manny like actually the best?

God, Drake and LP really are two halves of a whole idiot huh? They're soulmates, your honor

"I. Am." "Not alone in this." That was so sweet, but also JUST TELL HIM!!

And now Glom is dead

Oh, that's a lot of mind control

"Even by our standards, this is a weird day." Couldn't say it better, Lena

"How do you think Della found out about the Spear of Selene?" OH, YOU MOTHERFU

"Oh, Bradford, how villainous." DAMN! HE REALLY DID JUST DO THAT, HUH?!

"MOOOM!" "NOOO!" OH NO, MY HEART! IT FUNCTIONS!

"Do you know how replaceable clones are?" Oh yeah, that's right. You're probably not the og Gyro

Man, we don't ever have Von Drake for long but I always love him

Those lights are really only there for dramatic effect, aren't they?

...Close enough.

Launchpad moment! Yeah!!!

HEY! I just noticed. While wearing the suit, Launchpad didn't crash...idk what to do with this info

The fine print is usually good to read...we people just don't do it apparently

"...your most trusted ally?" *picks Donald* Wow. That's right there with the feels ain't it

"it's not worth the risk." Fuck, I love them

Oh that sounds so weird. Scrooge has never been a dad, always Uncle. So Weird

And Gandra, Gyro, and Von Drake are dead. There is a Body Count this episode

"Donald Duck." "Uncle Scrooge." I SEE YOU! I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE! AND I LOVE IT!

Hehe. From Bitchford to bird brain.

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS ENDING SCENE IS THE BEST!

Beakley thinking she's no longer accepted? Nah, she was granny first and foremost

ANOTHER FENRA KISS?! DON'T MIND IF I DO!

DADRO AND GOSALYN AND DRAKE?! LOVING IT!

MORE FRIENDSHIP BRACELETS?! WOO!

DONALD IMMEDIATELY ADOPTING JUNE AND MAY?! ONLY THE BEST FROM HIM!!!!

PROTECTIVE SCROOGE?! YOU DON'T SEE ME COMPLAINING!

"We're smarter" "We're tougher" "We're sharper" And we'll earn our way square." AH-I'M GOING DOWN LIKE THE SUNCHASER, GUYS

AND THE END CREDITS WILL NEVER BE MATCHED!!!!!

I don't know what else to say.

This show was amazing from beginning to end. I may not have cried, but I didn't need to cry. It wasn't sad and there was nothing bittersweet about it. Just pure perfection, just like the rest of the show.

Perfectly Preen, not a fether out of place.

Goodnight Ducktales, you were perfect

142 notes · View notes

generallypo · 4 years

Photo

in all sincerity, kim dokja makes me happy and he deserves to be so too :^(

incoherent yelling and sobbing under the cut. these fEELINGS will not be contained aaauuunnghhh.

------

anyway i binge-read all 500+ chapters of ORV this week and i honest to god feel bad for this -- completely! fictional! aghhhh -- guy. in case you haven’t figured it out, the following is some spoilerly shit

i went in expecting a fun, brainless power trip fantasy for dudes with an isekai addiction. instead, it turns out ORV is actually a gigantic, self-deprecating prank on the entire genre itself. kdj plays more into the sad -- if high-functioning-- clown trope than the sexy, edgy, chuuni bastard type i was prepared to laugh at. there were -- gasp! -- female characters with personalities! parents (aka ADULTS who act like ADULTS) who actually survive and feature prominently! adorable children! a real sexy, edgy bastard! a power trio with amazing fashion! sexual tension and bickering! friendship! life and death bonding!

*breathes in deeply* fouND FAMILYYYYYYY.

like, yeah, the plot around the first few arcs seems a little aimless, but the buildup is worth. the world-building is pretty decent. there’s discernible effort put into the fight scenes, and i can appreciate that. but -- but! what i stayed for were the characters -- namely, the fantastic OT3 of KDJ, HSY, and YJH -- who come together despite their initial rivalries and end up saving each other’s asses, like, every other day. granted, the other characters don’t get as much focus, and they do fall into certain character tropes..

but a trope done well is nothing i would gripe about. every significant character in ORV has a coherent, and more importantly, respectful take on their respective trope. maybe it’s because sing-shong is actually a married couple, but all the interactions between even minor characters are a convincing blend of awkward rambling, suggestive humor, sharp remarks, and casual banter. in other words, this cast of mostly working adults (plus a teen and two kids) talks like working adults. the relationships built throughout the story are, frankly, some of most realistic of its genre. sing-shong has managed to craft a dynamic that undoubtedly brims with fluffy fondness all around, but also drips with sarcastic tension, with unspoken urgency, with a wariness that softens into sincerity over the course of many, many chapters. it’s the kind of progression that makes even stock characters read like more than just the 2-bit villain or comrade or love interest. here, we have relationships both straightforward and not, strained or otherwise, romantically-oriented as well as decidedly the opposite -- and then numerous others scattered along the spectrum with the freedom to shift either way.

it’s also an interesting point of note that our MC kdj actually does not end up with a stated romantic partner, much less a conventional heteroromantic harem. he gets teased about that fact from time to time, but it’s with less of the sleazy shonen locker room humor one would expect and more of the good-natured ribbing you’d find among friends or that one especially nosy auntie at the yearly family reunion. kdj is a grown ass man. in the background, i applaud his maturity, and he handles all the prodding like a champ.

so instead of finding and fulfilling his horny, he builds himself a wealth of loving family. yeah, there are beautiful men and women around him. yeah, they unequivocally adore him. but they’re also adults, and they have priorities, too -- which are not so much finding a way to bang kdj’s brains out and more so simply keeping the damn guy alive. this is truly not ‘oblivious mc with his thirsty, sex kitten harem’. it just so happens that a guy proves himself to be unflinchingly gentle and capable in an apocalyptic setting despite his broken self-esteem, and lots of people find that attractive, romantically and platonically.

it.. kinda makes sense? he’s a hard worker, thoughtful, and good with kids. kdj is the kind of guy you know would make a reliable partner, and anybody with eyes can plainly see and appreciate that.

and it’s not that our MC’s a total brick wall. in fact, it’s likely the opposite, and he’s just too darned repressed to admit it. from what has been implied, kdj does indeed recognize and accept love, or at least a primitive concept of it. i like to imagine that the kind of love that he ends up seeking out simply manifests itself more easily as acceptance and safety, as warmth and a home of people to return to every day. even better, the people who surround him know this, and they give him exactly that. it’s refreshing, and honestly, really sweet.

(as a side note, i really, really do appreciate the cosmic bi energy radiating off of kdj, who canonically earns the title of being loved by all and is all but in name married to yjh and hsy. he also respects women and small children and honestly anyone who isn’t total scum to him or his family. i respect that.)

but the happy stuff aside, you know it it just ain’t ORV without the generous screaming dollop of angst. admittedly, there’s self-sacrifice, injury, lonesome wandering, more sacrifice, some epic fighting, reunion and confrontation. all of it is a lot to digest, sure, but never does it feel entirely hopeless, or truly, truly heart-clenching. ORV, up until the final act, is a mostly light read. you relax in your chair, thinking that nothing beyond this point can disturb you.

yeah fucking right.

------

and then the beginning of the end arrives. when the squad finally break through to their ‘ending’, the scene that kind of breaks me is the reveal of the Most Ancient Dream. it ties so much thematically into the little tidbits that we get of kdj’s past, and it though it feels like almost a joke that the source of the goddamn apocalypse is a kid with bruises smeared across his skinny ass body -- it’s such a pathetic picture that it’s kinda poetic, actually. you’re left mystified but somewhat convinced, like a math problem explained halfway through. this.. child.. is a villain somehow, isn’t he?

and then 999th turn uriel speaks up, and she. just. hugs him.

[[You are this universe’s most powerless existence, aren’t you.]]

that. that gets me. kdj’s reaction immediately upon this revelation? absolute murder. seeing him essentially self-destruct upon realizing that all these people he’s surrounded himself with -- some who continuously proclaim their loyalty and affection for him throughout their journey, some who suffered eons of war and loss and trauma because of his existence -- not only forgive his younger self but smother him with unconditional acceptance and love is stifling, is too vulnerable and exposed and he simply can’t cope -- it’s so telling of his true mentality, of his crippling insecurity and crumpled sense of self-worth. kim dokja is a liar, through and through, so much that he fails, or perhaps refuses, to comprehend the veracity of others’ kindness and love towards himself.

by some miracle, the events at the end of the world somehow resolve.. or so it seems. there is a departing train, a liberated team of ex-gods, and a child rousing from his slumber. in the aftermath, i am left shaking. somehow, despite the ending having been (happily?) reached, there’s still another chapter ahead. what is this witchcraft?

------

and then ah, yes -- the epilogue arc. i teetered on the edge of being critical for a little bit there -- is that display of deus ex machina, of sad, self-sacrificing nobility a bit too egregious to be acceptable? is this some wild last let-me-yank-this-outta-my-ass plot twist to drag out the chapter count? i sincerely thought that the arc before it would have been the finale. i was wrong. thank god.

anyways, as an answer to the above: no, and no. i stake my firm claim on the belief that the epilogue arc was meticulously planned out well in advance of its release, confusing and time-warpy as it is. i liked it. tremendously. even if it entirely invalidates all of kdj’s supposed development (”haha lol yeah sure i won’t sacrifice myself or anything anymore guys don’t worry about me” -- KDJ, at some point because he’s a lying rat bastard). actually, our beloved MC disappears for a large chunk of this arc, and i think it’s great. in his absence, the other characters not only go absolutely fucking nuts, but they have to figure out this new problem on their own, even if the lure of peaceful complacency in the newly saved Korea might convince them otherwise.

and then the whole time paradox thing comes around. yjh goes to space, hsy saves the only life she can, and kdj grows up. the crew waits, holding onto their hope even if it bleeds them dry. sing-shong does a damn good job of illustrating their fraying calm, their lurking madness, the unseen but pervasive depression that seeps in from kdj’s absence. the kids lose their father, lhs and jhw lose their reliable leader figure, ysa loses a best friend and confidant, lsk -- as distant as she pretends to be from her son -- loses her only child. and then there’s hsy and yjh , who are essentially bereft of the other half of their existences. their pain is palpable, is grounded in the hopeless, gnawing frustration of an utterly meaningless victory. emotionally, ORV hits all the right -- if agonizing -- beats.

however, a story can’t sustain itself just through its pathos. i’m happy to say that ORV doesn’t drop the ball after the first milestone, and after all the hurt, the characters do leap straight back into action. even better, the plot holes actually do get patches, and the poetic cycle of writer, protagonist, and reader comes full circle by making use of all those supposedly throwaway characters from the myriad world lines.

at the end of the road, there is a distinct sense of unity, of a delicate but undeniable cohesion to the world lines and their origins. sing-shong lets us guess a little here at the finish, but there’s just enough information to feel hopeful. maybe there never had been a definite start -- or finish -- to the story of kdj company, and... that’s okay. everybody ends up where they were meant to be, where they fought and struggled to reach. it’s.. almost like a happily ever after, if we’re allowed to dream of that.

------

now, i realize, this was all an orchestrated maneuver.

i’ll take it.

to me, all of this work sounds like someone put some serious thought into this behemoth of a plot. it cements the entire original premise of the story. it suggests -- but never explicitly confirms! -- the possibility that breaking free of the cycle is possible through the exact same system that sustains it. it’s terribly interesting -- and inspirational! with all the dramatic revelations and life-threatening scenarios and the cast’s resigned acceptance of them that essentially make up ORV’s entire mood, there’s still that last hint of rebellious and righteous anger that lights up the whole damn nebula. it’s like the kdj company blasting away at the heavens just to yell into the nether: we’re not looking for the happy end, but the free one. stay alive.

it’s subtle, and yet it’s such an emotional gut punch. i came away with the most ruinous, frustrating, bittersweet sense of longing in ages. i pined. for these fictional darlings. god, i am weak.

so. yeah. ORV is pretty good. flawed, but ambitious and impressively thought out. i’m stoked that the webtoon is making pretty good progress, even if it’ll take an eternity and a half to meet that monstrous chapter count. i’m still gonna follow it. hell yeah.

------

(by the way the idea that secretive plotter and co are literally gonna take care of and raise baby kdj and spoil him and be the best friggin family a kid could ever want does things to me. protect him. he’s suffered too much. let at least one worldline’s version of him know happiness. and actually, aLL OF THEM DESERVE DOMESTIC BLISS TOGETHER IN A BIG OL MANSION WITH SUN AND FRESH AIR AND TENDER FAMILY MOMENTS UGH)

------

and there you have it, folks. you made it to the end. in the far, far distance, i’m cheering you on and crying my eyes out in gratitude. thanks for tuning in!

#omniscient reader #orv #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #fanart #kdj happiness rights!#protect him!#let! him! have his big house! with everyone! he loves!#please!#long ass emotional screeching #look i can't do him justice with drawing but hell can i yell out my love for him :'^DD

604 notes · View notes

youalexturnermeon · 4 years

Text

Warm Beer and Cold Women (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Again, Johnny Lawrence x Reader and again it’s gonna be multiple parts (ONLY IF YOU WANT ME TO) because I just can’t keep it short

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, swearing

Wordcount: 1589

“Look, (Y/N), your boyfriend’s back.”

You heard that sentence almost every day during your late shift. Everyday, for about a month now. Jenny, your college at the half empty bar never held herself back. Just like right at the moment when she said that with a grin as you two stood behind the counter and polished glasses to look busy.

You rolled your eyes, “He’s not my boyfriend!” You insisted on it every night as well.

“Your loss, he’s kinda hot”. And Jenny’s answer was also the same every time. This conversation always felt like a déjà-vu, except that it literally happened to you every damn night you had to work. You let out a deep sigh trying to focus on the empty glass in one of your hands and the dirty cloth in the other. Yet you couldn’t help yourself to take a peek at the man who just arrived and took his regular seat at the end of the bar counter. He came here every day and he never made a secret out of doing it just because of his favourite barkeeper – you. He was indeed hot; you thought every time. Although he probably was in his late 40s or maybe even early 50s and looked like he’d seen some shit in his life, he was damn attractive, he had a full head of blonde hair, the bluest eyes you have ever witnessed on a person and he was more athletic than most men your age. You caught yourself hungrily eyeing his toned body, muscles almost popping through the tight black shirt he was wearing.

“Hey gorgeous,” he called over to you when he noticed your glance. And the biggest and brightest smile appeared on his lips. “Hi, Johnny.” you greeted him back, trying to sound the most disinterested and lazily walked over to him.

“Who do I have to screw to get a beer around here?”

You rolled your eyes again, supressing a stupid grin. You almost allowed your brain to picture an image of you two in the men’s bathroom. You pulled yourself together and shook this indecent thought off.

“Most certainly not me.”

“Well, that’s too bad.”

“But if you want me to,” you gestured with your thumb to the door, ‘staff’ written on it, behind you, “I can go fetch Kenny, he won’t say no to that. It’ll get you at least 2 free drinks, I think.”

Kenny was a big old biker, with long grey hair and a long grey beard, dressed in leather from head to toe, who owned the shabby bar you worked in. He also looked quite scary if one didn’t know him. Johnny’s smile twitched into a disgusted grimace. And you laughed from planting the thought of Johnny screwing Kenny inside his head. He didn’t like him very much.

“If you weren’t the hottest chick I have seen in my whole life, I would’ve called you a stupid bitch of a barkeeper and left you without any tip. But your pretty face and your great ass saves you all the time, huh?”

“Yes, Johnny,” you replied sarcastically “this has brought me very far in live, after all I’m a respectable barkeeper in not the shabbiest bar of Reseda but quite close to it, renting a luxury 1-bedroom apartment next to the most famous meth-head on the block for much more than it’s worth. Are you having the usual?” Johnny nodded, and you went off to get him his beer and whisky. Sometimes it was hard for you to be so mean to him, he was the only man on earth who showered you with complements all the time, not giving up flirting with you no matter what you said. But after all, he was still a local drunk hitting on a barkeeper. There was a lot of those, you had a few of them every night and Jenny even more. The only thing different about Johnny was that he was very good-looking and the most persistent of them all.

Jenny winked at you as you drew a beer from the tap system and poured the cheap brown liquid into a shot glass.

“How’s the love life going?”

“Fuck off, Jenny!”, you grunted and made your way back to the regular. You placed his order in front of him and stood still, arms crossed. To be fair, you didn’t have anything else to do, it was Tuesday night and only a few people sat in the dark corners of the bar getting drunk just by themselves. You might as well just let yourself entertain by the man who appreciated you.

“So, tell me,” Johnny started after he took the first sip of his beer, “How is live treating you, (Y/N), anything badass happened to you recently? You good?”

He always asked you how you were although you never really answered. You admired his endurance.

“Actually, quite the opposite?”

Johnny’s eyes widened a little and he stood his beer glass back on the counter. Surprised about a different answer today and curious for it being elaborated.

“What is it?”

You leaned over the counter and lured him closer to you with your finger, so close that his face was right in front of yours and your breath tickled him. He smelled quite nice, you reckoned, you did not expect that.

“The thing is,” you started whispering into his ear, him excitedly leaning even closer to you, happy over the slightest contact “there’s this creep who keeps coming into the bar. Almost every day, I think he’s a high-functioning alcoholic. And he just can’t leave me alone for once, always hitting on me, always talking to me. He might as well be stalking me and he’s like 20 years older than I am. Should I be afraid of him?”

Even though all you said was a lie since you didn’t think of Johnny as a creepy stalker anymore, rather a lonely guy, your words weren’t intended to be so hurtful. As soon as they left your lips you bit your tongue. Was that too much this time? But you wanted to get rid of him, did you?

“I heard he’s a quite good-looking bastard, tough.” Johnny retorted immediately without even flinching as if none of what you said struck him in the slightest. And that’s what you liked about him, he still wanted to woo you.

“And maybe if you’d give him a chance, you’d realize what a good fucking guy he is.”

You let out a hateful laugh. That would break your one and only work-rule.

“Nah, I don’t fuck with regulars.”

“Who said something about fucking?”

You bit your lip, no one did, it was your brain picturing you and Johnny again.

“You look damn hot doing that,” he said with a smirk and you promptly released your lip from your teeth.

“I’ll cook dinner, we watch a movie on my couch – “

“Thank you very much but I can have stale pasta at home by myself.“ you interrupted him, the corners of your mouth twitching. To be honest, you would like to have that, but you already were too far into acting like you hated everything he said and did and above all just him as a person.

“C’mon, (Y/N), when do you finally let met buy you a drink”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

Johnny rolled his beautiful blue eyes, “You say that all the time”

“Because you ask me that all the damn time.”

“’Cause I like you.” “Seriously Johnny, fuck off, you’re boring me.”

“Why do you always have to be such a bitch to me?” he exclaimed and maybe you were imagining that but for the first time since for ever you could make frustration out in his tone. That was exactly what you wanted, right?

“Woah,” you held your hands up “Watch your filthy mouth. You’ll have to give me a big fucking tip tonight, Johnny or I really go fetch Kenny so he can kick your sorry ass out for good.”

“No, I’ll just screw him instead, then I’ll be fine” You snorted, that man was unbelievable. Johnny, clearly satisfied with himself and his joke smiled with triumph.

“See, I made you laugh”

“Yeah, whatever” you said waving. And in that moment the huge mountain of a man, Kenny, came out of his office and stared blankly into Johnny.

“You’re gonna do what!?”, his voice roared through the bar, and Johnny suddenly became all small in his seat. You burst out laughing and finally used that situation to remove yourself from that scene. After all, you had work to do, you couldn’t just spend all your hours with Johnny. Even if you liked to.

“Uh oh,” Jenny said mockingly when you leaned against the counter next to her with a big sigh, “Relationship troubles?”

You nodded with a grin and made yourself a shot of vodka ready. You threw your head back and poured it down your throat all at once, you groaned but it felt good.

“Wow, would it have killed you if you did that with that poor guy over there?” Jenny signed over to Johnny, now sitting all alone looking down his fourth beer.

You shrugged; you didn’t want to indulge him that much.

“C’mon, you clearly in love with him and you know that.” “I don’t!” “You do, you like him.” “I fucking don’t. Stop making shit up in your hollow head!”

But that was a lie. For you the sun shone out his ass, that’s how much you liked him.

**************************************************************************************

Would you guys like me to write a second or maybe a third part??? Pls let me know?

also, let me know if you want to be tagged in my one shots and stuff

PART 2

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence imagine #johnny lawrence x reader #johnny lawrence fluff #badass reader #billy zabka #william zabka #cobra kai #cobra kai one shot #cobra kai imagine #karate kid #karate kid imagine

244 notes · View notes

diplexchimera · 3 years

Text

Hey people considering college-

I have some tips for you. Now, take into consideration that I am technically a college drop-out (didn't have enough money for a second semester).

- my college required Freshman to be in a campus dorm. We got to select whether we preferred someone quiet, someone loud, or someone in between. In my experience, someone loud = an extrovert who will have many people visit them, someone quiet = a person who prefers to keep their room more private, and someone in between = a person who wants their roommate to be okay with a noisy room & people over, but also wants to be able to say they need quiet time (or they aren't sure what they want, but want neither a silent room or a busy room).

- if you have to eat from the cafeteria, that's okay. They tend to have a wider selection anyway but! I would suggest memorizing the breakfast/lunch/dinner availability hours. Some schools are very strict, and will lock the doors which = a skipped meal for you.

-I would also suggest getting the app 'MyPlate Calorie Tracker'. College meals will most likely be different than what you've eaten at home and school. The MyPlate app is pretty simple, and can help you make sure you're getting the right amount of food into yourself, as opposed to too much or too little. If I remember correctly, it also keeps track of how much protein and stuff your food is supplying you.

- sugars, fats, calories, and carbs are not bad for you. Your body requires them. Your brain literally will not function if you cut out any one of those items. Remember, you don't need to avoid being fat, you need work today being healthy. Your body will sort itself out (over time dude, give it time) if you supply it with the necessary nutrients and such.

- dude, vitamins. They can be expensive, but if you have insurance, ask your doctor how much of every vitamin you should be having. They can tell you, give you a list, and they can ask your insurance if vitamins are covered. If you can't get to a doctor, try to do research. Here is one from Harvard that I think is good, but you should always cross check things. Getting all the vitamins and minerals you need is exceedingly important. They help you go to sleep, stay asleep, and wake up, help your brain and body to function and adjust, help keep you feeling healthy and happy. If you feel tired and depressed, it can be really difficult to accomplish tasks and enjoy/ appreciate being alive.

- I would not suggest starting your year by completing assignments before the start date of said assignments. For one, doing assignments as they come helps you get a feel for a natural schedule. Another reason is because it helps to be in the moment, instead of too far ahead to be able to keep track of what's going on and when. Wait until you have a hang of how and where to research, and a firm idea of how much you can hold onto mentally, so you don't fail tests. You'll also likely feel guilty later on when you begin to struggle to stay ahead as assignments get longer and more difficult.

- yo if you can get a used textbook that comes as a three ring binder instead of a hard or soft back, do it. It's cheaper, and so much easier to handle and copy. Heck, you can even take the pages out of the section you're using and put them in a folder -- boom, no more 40lb back pack. Also makes more room in any bag you use for the essentials, which I'll list next.

- here are some backpack essentials:

• earbuds, Bluetooth if possible. It's okay to have more than one type of listening device. "I prefer headphones!" You say. You can't hide over-the-ear headphones if you end up in a classroom which doesn't allow something like that. Sometimes you're just having a sucky day, sometimes you need extra stimulation to concentrate, sometimes you want to spend your time listening to a podcast that explains the current subject better than your teacher does. Sometimes you want to watch a movie casually. Earbuds also take up MUCH less space.

• an extra charging cable for every portable device you use. Roll them up, and secure each one individually with cable ties or bread bag twist ties. I say extra, as in, keep your original cords in your dorm room and Don't Take Them out. Get a secondary cable and charger for each device, and let them live in your backpack.

• 3 or 4 different colors of pen. Multiple colors, for whatever reason you want-- easily scanned notes, for different subjects, etc. These can serve a variety of purposes, and you never know when you need them.

• 3 regular pencils, and a good hand sharpener or silent mechanical sharpener. 3 in case the other two get broken lead or happen to suck. Regular pencils can be finicky.

• 2 mechanical pencils. 2 in case one of them fails, runs out of lead, or the lead breaks up.

• decoy pens and pencils! Get as cheap or expensive as you want. At some point, someone is likely to ask for one, and you don't want someone else using your favorites. You also may not get them back, or they get broken. I would suggest a couple of each, as it may happen in more than one class. You don't have to have decoys, but that way, at least you don't have to choose between either feeling guilty for not loaning out the items you like, or being uncomfortable that you did have to loan one. If you loan the decoys out, and don't get any back, and someone asks you for a utensil later that day, you have both a convenient reason you don't have an extra you're willing to share, and you already put the minimum effort towards being prepared.

• Water! You're going to get so dang dehydrated! You're going to have full days, much of the time, from trekking across campus, to class time, to meal times, to study time, to hang out time -- you need to have water with you, as opposed to having to track it down, and possibly have to pay for a bottle of water. Hydration is a main component in bodily functionality and brain processes. I would suggest a minimum of a 30-ish ounce container of any sort. A plastic water bottle you refill, a thermos, a sippy cup, a hydro flask, a camp flask, whatever works for you.

• I would say snacks. If you're eating meals throughout the day, I guess they aren't "technically" essential, but can confidently say, they are useful. Snacks can be an energy boost, a brain function boost, a hunger soother, a friend-maker, or just plain stimulation. Cut up some apple slices, maybe grab some peanut butter, or a portion of nuts, or a tangerine, crackers, pretzels, chips, the choice is yours. It helps if you can get ahold of some of those cheap reusable silicone ziplock baggies. You can wash them to be used again, and you don't have to deal with carrying plastic trash around with you.

• a pair of socks. I know that sounds weird, but it doesn't take up much space, and weird stuff happens. They get wet, or it's hot and your feet get sweaty and yucky, or food get spilled on your feet. Stuff happens.

• b12 tablets. They work with your system in a healthy way, as opposed to caffeine, and does the same trick. Just follow the directions on the bottle, and may I suggest, start with half the recommended dose. It affects different people more or less. My husband takes the recommended two, while I only need a half. We both have adhd, and are closely similar in body weight. If you need a wake up boost, don't slam your system with caffeine.

• baby wipes. You can get a small pack, and they can help clean up almost anything. Someone spill sticky tea? Got it. Fell and scraped a knee, and it has dirt all over it? Baby wipes and a little water. Need to blow your nose, and there are no tissues, or just feel like you need to rinse your face off in class? You're covered.

• chapstick is a very small item, but Lordy Lord if those classrooms aren't parched of all moisture in the air. You gone get cracked, chapped lips.

That's kinda it for now on backpack essentials. There is definitely more you could have, so supplement whatever helps you. You could add a hairbrush or comb, a hat and rain jacket for cold weather times, sunscreen during the hot times, hair ties and bobby pins, etc. It's all for you pal.

- keep in touch with your professors. Make yourself known to them. An occasional casual compliment is often helpful, and a good way to connect (you explained stuff really well today/your teaching style is helpful/I appreciated you taking time to answer my questions). They are people after all.

- if you have stuff going on, let your professors know. If your pet is sick at home and you're worried about them, give your professors a heads-up that you may seem less attentive that week, but that it isn't disinterest. If you figure out you have depression, and you're struggling to complete assignments/sleep/wake-up, tell them. Let them know you don't expect special treatment, you just wanted them to know that it isn't due to immaturity or lack of interest.

- always do studying and homework first. If you're able to accomplish these things while with friends, that's great, but if you can tell you're struggling, prioritize schoolwork. You'll have time for fun stuff later, usually later that evening.

- it's okay to drop a class. In fact, if you severely dislike a class, don't understand the coursework, or you realize you've taken on too much at once, it's better for your overall wellness and your grades if you drop it. If you have a professor suggest you drop a class in mean way, don't feel like you have to prove them wrong. This is your experience, and they can stuff it for being a rude brat. You don't need to prove yourself to them, and you cannot control their thoughts or actions.

- try to take classes that happen twice a week, which start later in the day than 8 am, at least for your first semester. There is a lot going on in college. A lot of changes to acclimate to. Take it a little easier at first, to give yourself time to work out what all is where, and how everything works.

Well, that's the end of 'dip's (college) tips' for now.

#dip shares stuff #stuff to know #dip's tips #college

19 notes · View notes

king-maven-calore · 3 years

Note

Can I ask for 44 and/or 1 on the fluff prompts list?💕

Here you go anon! This is fast food so don't expect good grammar or quality lmao 😘🍕 Also, I assume since you don't mention a ship, that you meant this for marecal

Cal was never a particularly meticulous person when it came to being tidy, not when he was back at the palace, where his room was cluttered by armor pieces and books, not at the many Scarlet Guard barracks he slept in, where he barely had two shirts and a change of pants to his name, and not now after moving in with Mare at a small apartment in a busy street in Ascendant. However, one thing he never was, was careless, and not being able to find one's own clothing could shove him in that category.

He scans every surface and corner of the place again, walking around shirtless in his best jeans and boots, already 2 minutes late to his night out with "the boys". The boys being Ptolemus, Rafe, Bree, and Tyton. Ugh, he'll never like that guy. He doesn't like the way he looks at his fiancée. Yes, his fiancée. Eat that, chalk head.

Well, chalk head might be an idiot but the other three men have done nothing wrong to deserve being stood up because he can't find his favorite linen shirt. He'll just have to wear whatever.

The second he makes that decision, Mare pads into the living room, rubbing the lingering sleep from her nap from her eyes, yawning wide, her hair in a bun holding on for dear life low on her neck.

He exhales loudly through his nose and tilts his head to the side, watching her stare blankly out the window, to the lake far below.

"My love, my heaven and stars," he lists matter of factly as he approaches her from the side and holding her by the waist, turns her so she faces him. She blinks a few times, finally waking up, and lifts her eyebrows. "Is that my shirt?"

A slow smile starts to tug at her lips when she notices how he's dressed, or rather undressed, thanks to her. The linen shirt falls close to her knees, the sleeves are rolled up to her elbows and the untied V neck exposes a more than generous view of her chest and the scar where his eyes never linger.

Mare loops her arms around his neck and gives him a sly smirk. "You mean our shirt?"

He emits a low protest sound in his throat, still, he holds her closer to his body. Add this to the long list of clothing items they now ‘share’, according to Mare. And they're not even married yet, by his colors. "At this rate, you're going to leave me naked in less than a month."

"How about less than 30 seconds?" she murmurs getting on her tiptoes to brush his lips with hers, and running her hands down his chest, using a spark of her power to create static that raises goosebumps all over his skin. Or maybe it's just her.

"I have to meet up with our friends, remember?" he mutters only half convinced of wanting to go now.

"Suit yourself," she sighs, pivoting on her heels and walking away from him so fast he almost faceplants on the floor. "Ptolemus and my brother are your friends, not mine." She corrects him and tugs his shirt off from her lithe body before throwing it back at him.

Cal's brain stops functioning for a dizzying moment as he gawks at her walking back to their bedroom wearing absolutely nothing, probably to retrieve something else to wear.

He seriously debates not going to this thing before grumbling in annoyance and putting on the shirt he spent a good part of the afternoon looking for. His heart flutters happily when he realizes it smells like her.

"Playing by that book, Tyton is your friend." He shouts so she hears him as he gets his wallet and keys from the bowl by the door, in the hall. "Your dead friend, if I had any say in it," Cal mutters to himself as he puts on his leather jacket, and raises his head to find that whoops... Mare is leaning on the archway, arching an eyebrow, folded arms over her chest covered in another one of their shirts. She heard that last part.

"You would kill Tyton." She seems unimpressed.

"Only a little," he jokes as he tilts her chin up to kiss her goodbye.

"You-" she says against his lips and touches his neck with the tip of her index finger to shock him with a spark of electricity, "-are an idiot."

He jolts and takes her hand, chuckling as he corrects her. "But I am your idiot."

"Get out of here," Mare pushes him away rolling her eyes, but incapable of hiding her smile. "And bring me something greasy to eat."

Cal scoffs and shakes his head as he opens the door. "And I bet you won't be sharing that." He quickly closes the door to avoid getting electrocuted again.

#My fics #marecal #red queen

36 notes · View notes

ashthewaterghoul · 3 years

Text

“What if Ahsoka Went to Mustafar”

Chapter 7

Rex’s voice came over the comm link, “The Chancellor is here with a division of the Coruscant guard led by Fox”

“We’ll be right there.” Anakin replied. He looked at Padmé, confusion on her face made him feel guilty; he kissed her and said “I love you, never forget that.” Then he ran out of the room with Obi-Wan. Ahsoka and Yoda were in the hallway and joined them in running to the front of the station. When they got there, Rex was stationed with Organa’s men and they had already engaged the enemy.

“Well, you’ll need these!” Ahsoka said while tossing Anakin and Obi-Wan their weapons. All the force wielders, including Palpatine, had their lightsabers ignited, ready for battle.

“Come, Lord Vader.” Sidious demanded.

“No.” Anakin replied “You lied to me!”

He ran at Sidious and started to attack him.

“Your hatred is giving you strength, you aren’t even trying to supress it, see how powerful the dark side can be?”

Sidious knew what he was doing been as this made Anakin so angry that his eyes glowed red. From then, flashes of red and blue replaced the two men. The fight went on for some time, Palpatine’s acrobatics and Anakin’s lightning fast strikes caused both to start losing their stamina. As Yoda witnessed this, he quickly came up with an idea.

“Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, apart help me push them!”

The two nodded as they all called upon the force to separate the two. Yoda brought Anakin back over to them but the success was short lived as the clone battalion’s incredible combat training paid off and quickly started to overwhelm the opposition. The Jedi’s team were doing their best to keep the clones at bay but it was taking its toll on the Alderaan troops. Being in close proximity to Fox allowed Rex to tune in the frequencies only carried in clone helmets.

“This is Commander Fox to Commander Cody, we need your help, I repeat, we need your help.

“Cody?” Rex thought, but before he could relay the message, Yoda stated his new plan.

“Attack Sidious I will, join one by one you will to assist.” he said.

He used the force and jumped over to Sidious. The Sith was surprised to see the little green Jedi was alive, which briefly played to Yoda’s advantage. The momentary surprise allowed Yoda to slide past Sidious and take his gaze away from the station. Sidious called his second lightsaber down his sleeve to his hand and ignited it, the crimson blade illuminating his disfigured face under his hood. He was determined to finish their business. As his back was turned, Ahsoka ran to join in but Sidious used the force and held Ahsoka back, but she was soon released when Obi- Wan jumped in to attack also. Ahsoka ran to aid the Jedi masters. Even though it was 3 vs 1, Sidious was somehow still getting the upper hand.

“Any time… now… Anakin!” Obi-Wan said struggling and panting.

The flashes of the lightsabers clashing made it almost impossible for Anakin to see where he should jump in. He remembered what Qui-Gon said about staying on the light, he pulled himself into a brief meditation and used the force to see the action. He saw what to do but all the clones were in the way. He couldn’t get past them without killing them, which he didn’t want to do. He looked at Rex who seemed to know what he was thinking.

“You have my permission, if that’s what you were going to say.” He said, after what happened to Fives and Ahsoka, the Coruscant Guard had a lot less respect from Rex.

Anakin nodded at his friend, gripped his lightsaber tighter and practically ran through them, slicing each one of them like a Tusken Raider. It took some time to get through them but in the end he saw his friends becoming more and more fatigued by the very quick combat of the sith. He didn’t know how to do this while staying on the light, he couldn’t, it was impossible; he just dipped back into the dark then, Anakin could already feel it’s seductive nature intoxicating him, clouding his conscious.

“Don’t worry. I am with you, Anakin.” Qui-Gon said through the force. Anakin swore he felt his master’s large hand on his back like he did all those years ago. While he had the courage to do it, he leaped up and flipped over the lightsaber caused chaos. As he landed, he sliced Palpatine in vertically in half. Palpatine grunted before he could take his last breath, and fell to the ground. The three of them stared at Anakin with complete and utter shock. Ahsoka couldn’t look at the mutilated corpse so she turned and ran back to Rex’s aid. Yoda, Obi-Wan and Anakin’s gazes went from each other to the body, all were expressionless. The moment was over powered by the LAAT’s of the 212th legion arriving. Obi-Wan saw his old battalion and flashes of what happened on Utapau invaded his mind.

“Oh, not good.” He said as the orange clad clones descended from the gunships and immediately started to attack.

Rex saw his brother, Cody, for the first time in weeks and decided to try and talk some sense into him. He tried to act like his chip was still in to blend in with the rest.

“Cody!” he shouted,

“Rex!” he replied, happy to see his brother alive. “Or should I say Commander? I do believe that congratulations are in order!”

“Not anymore, demoted.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you another time but for now, what do we do now the Chancellor is, well, dead?” he motioned to the decapitated body. Cody hadn’t even noticed, he was shocked at the sight and left speechless. Before he could respond, Fox ran towards them and said “We carry out Order 66 and execute the people responsible for treason.”

The mention of the command made Rex wince. He saw Cody straighten up and look almost robotic, just like the droids they fought against, programmed to do whatever is needed of them.

“Yes sir!” Cody said and started to run off but stopped when he realised that Rex wasn’t following.

“Aren’t you coming?” He asked.

“What? Oh right yeah.” Rex started to follow Cody, but while he wasn’t looking, he ran to the Jedi generals.

“Order 66 has been activated again for yours and Ahsoka’s termination.” The Captain said.

“Lovely.” Obi-Wan said completely monotone.

“A laughing matter this is not, Obi-Wan.” Yoda scolded “Stop this how do we, Captain?”

“All the clones have an inhibitor chip implanted in their brains; Ahsoka was smart enough to remove mine, but the rest of my men weren’t as lucky.” He turned to Skywalker “Remember when Fives told us about them?”

“He was right?” Anakin responded.

Rex nodded.

“How do we remove these chips?” Obi-Wan asked.

“We need a scanner and a surgery droid or capsule, it’s a short procedure and then they can function normally right after.”

“Look for one of these capsules inside, I will.” Yoda said, he then quickly ran through the commotion and into the station.

The three men ran back to help the other troops, Rex wanted to fight alongside Cody again, but he couldn’t betray his General. He could feel Cody’s confusion as he ran past him to the man-made trench.

“Rex, what are you doing?!” Cody shouted over the comm. Rex quickly thought of an excuse for his behaviour, “Doing it from the inside.” He shouted back.

“Smart move!”

Rex hated that his brother’s unique personality had dissolved to become just like all the other clones. The laser bolts flew between the two sides for a long time until Yoda’s voice finally came through the comm.

“Found the resources for the surgeries I have. Many of the capsules are there.”

“Understood, Master” Obi-Wan replied.

“How do we get them in?” Ahsoka said while blocking rounds of blaster fire.

“Try to pull them over with the force while Rex stuns them. Then Anakin, put them inside and the droids will get to work.” The Jedi master replied.

They all nodded their heads in agreement.

Obi-Wan and Ahsoka called to Rex as a trooper flew his way, Anakin dragged them one by one into the lobby onto a gurney which was quickly whisked away to a med-bay.

The clones started to see that there brothers were being forced behind enemy lines.

“They’re taking hostages!” Fox yelled out.

“We need to recue our brothers!” replied Cody.

They started to charge at the station.

“Rex! Get out of there!” Cody shouted.

“No can do, Cody.” He stunned his brother and dragged him in to Skywalker.

“There are too many of them!” Ahsoka said.

“Fall back!” Kenobi ordered.

Everyone went into the station and held the doors shut.

“How many are left out there?” Anakin asked.

“About half, sir.” Rex said.

“That’s too many.”

Bail Organa ran around the corner, “We have clones coming in the south entrance by some of the other med-bays.” he said.

“That’s where Padmé is!” Anakin said “Rex, how many are out of surgery?”

“We have around 20 left to go.” The Captain responded.

“Take them to the south entrance and get ready to evacuate the place if we need to.” he ordered.

“Yes sir.”

Yoda came round the corner.

“Skywalker.” Yoda called

“Master.” Anakin responded.

“Subdue the clones from here we can. Together we must work to do this. All their heads, hit against each other make them, but not too hard or kill them it will.”

Anakin nodded and they both held their hands out, reaching deep into the force. The clones all rose up in the air and all crumpled into a pile on the floor with a loud clang.

“To the med-bays, get them.” Yoda ordered. Everyone there obliged and carried a trooper onto a gurney. Rex ran back from the south entrance.

“All the troops are ready for the procedure.” He reported.

“And Padmé and the twins?” Anakin asked.

“I … I couldn’t see them sir.”

Fear once again rose in Anakin.

I’m sorry this chapter is so long, I couldn’t condense it or find a place to split it into 2. But I guess it makes up for how short the last chapter was��. Also there is one chapter left of this and then its the epilogue! I hope you enjoyed it and please leave any feedback or suggestions for future fics. Please interact with my posts as much as you can! You can follow me on Instagram if you want @siriusly_a_jedi.

Previous chapter

Next chapter

View all chapters here

20 notes · View notes

mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

The Problem with Magic Markers

Soooo Critical Role campaign 2 just ended, I've got major brain rot over it and my wonderful gf gave me a wonderful idea for a fic so! This happened! A gift to @spiky-lesbian who came up with this adorable concept and is just generally an all round wonderful person who deserves the world. Also huge thanks to my ever patient, ever helpful beta reader @minky-for-short

If you liked it too, please reblog and leave a comment over on Ao3!

-----------

Mollymauk is so proud of Caleb in so many ways and, now they have their lovely lives with their wonderful children, he finds more reasons to be every day.

-----------

Mollymauk Tealeaf had learned many things since he’d become a parent, now five years ago. A short amount of time, he’d used to think, but plenty of time to obtain a lot of knowledge you never thought you were ever going to need in your life.

Like how sandwiches cut into triangles were disgusting but sandwiches cut into squares could be eaten by the hundreds. Like how to make a bath appealing to a toddler with the liberal addition of bubble bath and a willingness to get absolutely soaked playing Sharks with them. Like how a scraped knee and bumped forehead could be cured with his cuddles and kisses alone, like how a promise from him that everything was going to be okay was enough to make it so.

And how silence was very, very worrying.

So when Mollymauk walked past his son and daughter’s room and heard only silence, when he knew for a fact they were in there, he stopped dead. He put any thoughts of getting to go and spend some time with his sewing kit out of his mind. Because he’d been a parent long enough to know that something was up, two five year olds weren’t that silent unless some game was afoot, something they didn’t want their parents to know about. Which meant he should probably at least poke his nose in.

So he knocked lightly on their door, the one covered in whichever drawings they were most proud of that week and a hand painted sign Jester had made for them the day they were born, prettily proclaiming ‘Trinket and Una’s Room!’ amongst a flock of miniature unicorns.

“Sweetlings?” he called gently, “Mind if I come in?”

There was a sudden scrabbling from behind the door and he heard a muffled grunt from Una before Trinket answered hurriedly, “Um...yes! Okay daddy!”

Raising a curious eyebrow, Molly pushed the door back, disturbing the usual scattering of toys left on the floor like the aftermath of a felt based battle. Although it did seem like there was more mess than usual…

Trinket stood in the middle of the room between their two little beds, his backpack at his feet and an expression of perfect innocence on his face that was just a little too polished to be anything but an act. Molly had to admit he’d probably learned that from him.

“Well hello there, little man,” he leaned in the doorway, smiling crookedly, “What game are we playing today?”

Trinket shuffled his feet, “Um...packing?”

“That sounds like a fun game,” Molly’s gentle concern upgraded to full blown wariness, “And where’s your sister?”

Trinket turned a deeper shade of purple, looking down at his fidgety feet that were poking more holes in his innocence by the second, “Um...she...um…”

Which was the point Una helpfully chose to poke her little head out of the backpack, dark eyes blinking curiously and ears flapping, trilling, “Here daddy!”

Trinket flushed guiltily, frowning at her, “Una! I said you had to stay shh!”

Molly took a breath, wandering over to sit down on Trinket’s bed. As his eyes swept around the room, he noted a great deal more chaos in the room. Almost like someone had been going through the toy box and the drawers and bookshelves, hurriedly pulling things out, making quick decisions about what to abandon and what to stuff into a little blue, dinosaur patterned backpack. Molly supposed he should at least be grateful that Trinket saw his sister as worth taking.

“Why don’t you talk to me, babies?” he offered gently.

Trinket swallowed, eyes darting around nervously before the last of the fight went out of his narrow little shoulders and he mumbled, “Daddy...can I tell you a secret?”

Molly had to smile. This was almost a running joke between the three of them, his kids running up excitedly to tell him they had a secret for him before whispering into his ear about some apparently very cool bug they’d seen or that Uncle Caddy had snuck them an extra cookie or that he was the best daddy ever. He loved being brought into their world where everything was brighter and more exciting and there was fun to be found in the smallest things. And where everything was felt so much more keenly.

“Of course you can, sweetling,” he murmured gently, patting the bed beside him, “You can always tell me secrets. Whatever it is, I promise we can make it better together.”

As Una rolled out of the backpack, apparently unconcerned and rather enjoying herself, Trinket clambered up beside him and stood so he could whisper into his ear. Molly tucked his purple curls behind one ear, smiling encouragingly.

Voice already trembling, Trinket leaned in and murmured, “I messed up Papa’s coat.”

Molly absorbed that in silence, feeling his son’s anxious red eyes on him. He leaned back, keeping his face carefully neutral before taking a long, deep breath through his nose, marshalling his thoughts.

“Trinket, I’m not going to lie to you here. We might be in trouble.”

His opinion didn’t change when he actually saw the coat. The coat his husband had been wearing as long as he’d known him and refused to be regularly seen without, no matter how many attempts Molly had made to buy him a newer, less ragged, less musty smelling version. It was more a comfort blanket than just clothing, stained and scorched from numerous spells and spills, old leather worn shiny from overuse. He hadn’t said so in so many words but it didn’t take a genius to guess that Caleb had worn it since before he came to the city. Which meant it had probably come from his parents. And though it was old and faded and stained today, it must have been new when he got it, a costly garment for people like the Ermendruds. The sort of gift that would only be given if your only son was leaving home to join the Academy and wanted to show him how proud you were.

A lot of Caleb’s life was like that. Even as his husband, Molly found himself having to piece things together from passing comments and turns of phrase, things that dulled his love’s eyes and tightened his jaw. Molly had about a quilt and a half’s worth of assumptions and semi-finished anecdotes by this point, telling of a sad and fractured timeline.

But he knew enough to see what the coat meant to Caleb and the place it held in his husband’s black and white, yes or no, yours and mine way of thinking.

The coat that now had a minor gallery’s worth of doodles and drawings scribbled in magic marker across the sleeves and all the way down the back. And if he wasn’t comfortable with Molly washing the thing, he wasn’t going to be okay with this.

Trinket had been fretfully watching his daddy since he’d first pulled the coat out from where he’d guiltily stashed it under his bed. As Molly’s mutely horrified silence dragged on, he only became more and more anguished until he was barely in tears, wringing his tail between his pudgy fists.

“I only wanted to make it pretty,” he whimpered, “Papa will hate me. I won’t be his special boy any more.”

Molly looked up at him, reaching out and putting his hand on Trinket’s shoulder, “Oh sweetling, your papa loves you a lot, you know this isn’t going to change that.”

But he couldn’t stop thinking about the times he’d picked up a pen from Caleb’s desk without thinking much of it, doodling with it until he’d looked up to see his husband gaping at him in scandalised horror. Or the times he’d stolen sips from Caleb’s drink when they were at the cafe, the same way he’d do to any of his friends, but Caleb would frown if he caught him, unable to understand why Molly was taking his coffee?

It was just part of the way his brain functioned, the rules it spat out after absorbing years of poverty and trauma, along with some different wiring that had simply occurred naturally. Mollymauk had learned a long time ago how to fondly work with these Caleb-isms, making concessions where it was best to and encouraging his wizard to gentle the restrictions his brain built when he needed to. It was like tending some kind of creeping vine in a garden, the way he saw it. Sometimes things needed moving aside so it could flourish and sometimes it needed pruning so it didn’t strangle the flowers around it. Caleb had been as brave as Mollymauk could have wished in managing his idiosyncrasies and sometimes he just had to sit back and admire how different the Caleb he lived with today was from the anxious, mumbling wizard he’d first met.

But how much patience he’d be able to muster when it was one of his favourite things in the world, Molly couldn’t say. But he wasn’t looking forward to telling him about it.

“Should I go?” Trinket’s lower lip wobbled, glancing back at his half packed bag, which Una was back inside, the front half this time as she munched away on some snack he must have stashed in there.

“Absolutely not, your papa would never want that,” Molly squeezed his shoulder gently, “We’re going to put the coat in to soak so we can get all this ink out and then we’re going to find him and I’ll tell him what’s happened. But you need to be the one who says sorry, okay?”

Trinket nodded frantically, still clinging onto his tail for comfort, “I am sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know, buddy,” Molly drew him close and hugged him tight, hating to see him so upset, “But we’ll be laughing about this before long, you’ll see.”

Maybe if he said it confidently enough, he’d start to believe it too.

Caleb wasn’t hard to find for a number of reasons. For one, their apartment was very small and there were only a handful of rooms to look in. But more importantly, it was late afternoon on a day where Caleb didn’t have any reason to go down to the Academy and fulfill his duties as an adjunct professor and when his bookshop was closed, as it was once a week. Which meant there was only one place he would be, in his half of their spare room, either playing one of his video games or reading.

Molly wasn’t quite sure what they’d do when one of their kids decided they wanted their own room and were tired of sharing, meaning Caleb would have to store his books and he’d have to store his sewing somewhere else. Or if they had another kid. He’d been toying with that idea in the back of his mind lately.

Maybe best not to float that idea with Caleb right after this.

Mollymauk could feel Trinket in his arms, his offer to pick him up and carry him having been immediately, breathlessly accepted. He could sense him getting more tense, more anxious, growing heavier against him as Molly knocked lightly on the door.

“Ja, come in,” Caleb’s response was immediate, not even needing to ask who it was or having to pause over whether he wanted to see them.

When Molly went in, Caleb was in the old, ratty wingback chair they’d liberated from some sidewalk when they’d first moved in, Molly announcing teasingly that a future professor needed some grand leather throne from which to smoke a pipe and pontificate. Caleb had blushed and rolled his eyes, not even believing back then that one day he would get the job he’d always dreamed of having, thinking trauma and past hurts had stolen it from him.

So now Molly always got a small flush of pride when he saw his Caleb sitting in that chair.

His hair was getting a little longer these days, it’s auburn tangles pulled into a small knot at the crown of his head so it wouldn’t fall in his eyes. His beard was growing a little thicker too, more than the usual rusty shadow that dusted his jawline. Molly absolutely was not going to be complaining about any of that, he liked his husband looking a little more rough around the edges like when they’d first met.

As soon as he saw them, Molly with Trinket balanced on one hip, Caleb’s face lit up with a smile. His smiles had been rare once upon a time but now just the sight of his family was enough.

“Hello,” he set the book he’d been reading to one side, already expecting Trinket to want to sit on his lap like always, “How are my loves?”

Near Molly’s ear, Trinket whimpered mournfully and pressed his face against his daddy’s neck. It was more than an ache to listen to, Trinket idolised his papa, following him around whenever he could, listening devotedly as he explained his work even when it wandered far off the track that his little mind could understand. Molly had no doubt the attempt to brighten up his coat had been a genuine attempt to make him smile and he couldn’t imagine how much it was hurting his little boy, to think he’d upset the man he looked up to more than anyone.

Caleb’s smile dulled a little, seeing Trinket hesitate, immediately realising they weren’t here for playtime, “What’s wrong?”

Molly exhaled slowly, carefully keeping his voice calm and level, “It’s okay babe, Trinket just...did something he wants to apologise for.”

“Oh?” Caleb frowned a little, eyes still fixed on Trinket, arms still open.

Molly opened his mouth, ready to do the hard part but before he could, Trinket bolted upright and tearfully burst out, “I wanted to make your coat pretty because you always like my pictures and I thought you could take them everywhere not just in your pockets but I made a mess and I’m so sorry papa! I’m really sorry!”

For a moment both of his parents were a little stunned, not quite sure what to say as his rambles tapered off into spluttery sobs. Molly warily glanced at Caleb, looking for any change in his blank, closed off expression, any flicker of discomfort, even anger.

After a few beats, ones that felt longer than usual, Caleb only nodded, getting to his feet. Gently, he reached over and put a gentle hand on his son’s face, catching some of the tears dribbling down his cheek on his thumb.

“Little Kätzchen, it’s alright,” he murmured softly, “Please don’t cry.”

Trinket sniffled, blinking blearily, “You’re not angry? Don’t want me to go away?”

Caleb’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, “No! Oh, Trinkie, absolutely not. I’d never want that.”

“But…” Trinket’s eyes were wide, hopeful, wanting to take this relief being offered but hesitant to, “It’s your favourite thing in the whole wide world…”

Caleb chuckled quietly, his smile back with all it’s warmth as he leaned in and kissed his forehead.

“Kätzchen, you and your sister are my favourite thing in the whole wide world.”

Molly nearly yelped in panic as he felt the weight of Trinket suddenly leave his arms before realising his son had thrown himself at Caleb, locking his arms around him tightly. He didn’t doubt for a moment that his husband would catch him, only smiling fondly as he gathered Trinket close and buried his face in his hair.

“It’s all okay,” Caleb whispered against the rust red curls he’d given their son, “It’s okay, little one.”

Molly let them have their moment, letting Trinket cry the last of his tears out happily against his papa’s chest, hanging back and feeling his heart thudding warmly against his ribs. Eventually he was their beaming, bright little boy again, if a little damp, wriggling down from Caleb’s arms determinedly after one last little kiss against his papa’s cheek.

“I’m gonna make you a sorry card. The best sorry card ever,” he promised Caleb, already toddling towards the door, “It’s gonna have glitter.”

“Wow, that kid is definitely my son,” Molly observed wryly once his little lavender tail had disappeared around the corner.

“Then you can clean up the mess he’s definitely about to make,” Caleb chuckled, moving into his husband’s arms.

“Hey,” Molly kissed the crown of his head gently, “Well done. I know that must have been hard for you and...I’m really proud of you.”

He couldn’t see it but he could hear the coy smile in his voice, “Well...I meant what I said. Some coat is never going to be more important to me than my kids.”

Molly smiled knowingly, “I know baby….but you know, if you want to scream into that cushion for a little while, that’s okay too?”

There was a short pause before he felt Caleb’s shoulders drop in relief.

“Thank you, Katze…”

“Is it done yet?”

Molly had to fight a smile. He’d explained to Caleb that soaking his coat would take exactly thirty minutes, knowing his husband fixated on time easily, but still he asked every five minutes on the dot. He’d expected nothing less.

“Not just yet, babe,” he repeated, as he had all of those other times, looking up from the laundry they’d been folding so Caleb would have an excuse to hover anxiously in the laundry room, over the tub of hot soapy water and a little rubbing alcohol his coat was submerged in, “Soon though.”

Caleb gave a small grunt, poking a finger into the water curiously like it was some potion he was working over. After a moment, before Molly could turn back to folding the clothes, he frowned.

“This sleeve isn’t in the water…”

Molly’s smile turned crooked, coming over and putting a hand on Caleb’s before he could move the one sleeve into the tub, “I thought maybe you’d want to look at it...decide if you want to keep that one.”

Caleb blinked, not understanding until he turned it a little and saw the drawing his Trinket had chosen to adorn the sleeve with. It was done in bright red, standing clearly against the dark fabric, unmistakable a child’s drawing. There were four figures there, two taller and two smaller. The first had a set of horns drawn a little too large for it’s head, as well as a tail. The second had a long scarf and a scrawled head of shoulder length hair. The next was much smaller, with another set of horns and a tail but the same scribbled hair. And the last was tiny, with voluminous ears and spikes on the end of it’s fingers. All of them had immense smiles and held hands, a lopsided love heart hovering above them.

As the other scribbles and swirls turned into formless ink in the water, Caleb held this one like it was the most precious thing he’d ever seen in his life.

“Yeah,” he murmured, smiling softly, “I think this one can stay.”

#critical role #modern au #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #widomauk #una #trinket #please reblog and comment!

24 notes · View notes