#doesn't say you *can't* do that and they recommend just.. using spit. but then I can taste it the whole time and nope can't do that 🤮
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running-in-the-dark · 1 year ago
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oh, yeah! I forgot that I wanted to update you guys on the Colestyramine situation (sooo exciting, I know)
I've completely changed my mind about the chewable tablets. I hated them at first, and now - well I don't love them, because they're still gross obviously. but I've figured out how to chew them without really tasting them too much, and now I much prefer them over the powder!!
it's really convenient to just put them in my bag and take them when I'm somewhere else. I don't have to prepare anything to take them (any extra step will honestly just make me not eat), and I've found I really don't need 2 of them 3 times a day. I've been taking 3-4 a day (usually one before breakfast and one after - I just can't do two right after each other, and then one before lunch and dinner) and it's enough - so yeah I'm glad I tried them and I'll be sticking with them!
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evilminji · 8 months ago
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
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phantomrose96 · 9 months ago
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Hey not to go all "tumblr is a professional networking site" on you, but how did you get to work for Microsoft??? I'm a recent grad and I'm being eviscerated out here trying to apply for industry jobs & your liveblogging about your job sounds so much less evil than Data Entry IT Job #43461
This place is basically LinkedIn to me.
I'm gonna start by saying I am so so very sorry you're a recent grad in the year 2024... Tech job market is complete ass right now and it is not just you. I started fulltime in 2018, and for 2018-2022 it was completely normal to see a yearly outflow of people hopping to new jobs and a yearly inflow of new hires. Then sometime around late-spring/early-summer of 2022 Wallstreet sneezed the word "recession" and every tech company simultaneously shit themselves.
Tons of layoffs happened, meaning you're competing not just with new grads but with thousands of experienced workers who got shafted by their company. My org squeaked by with a small amount of layoffs (3 people among ~100), but it also means we have not hired anyone new since mid-2022. And where I used to see maybe 4-8 people yearly leave in order to hop to a new job, I think I've seen 1 person do that in the whole last year and a half.
All this to say it's rough and I can't just say "send applications and believe in yourself :)".
I have done interviews though. (I'm not involved in resume screening though, just the interviews of candidates who made it past the screening phase.) So I have at least some relevant advice, as well as second-hand knowledge from other people I know who've had to hop jobs or get hired recently.
If you have friends already in industry who you feel comfortable asking, reach out to them. Most companies have a recommendation process where a current employee fills out a little form that says "yeah I'd recommend such-and-such for this job." These do seem to carry weight, since it's coming from a trusted internal person and isn't just one of the hundreds of cold-call applications they've received.
A lot of tech companies--whether for truly well-intentioned reasons or to just check a checkbox--are on the lookout for increasing employee diversity. If you happen to have anything like, for example, "member of my college Latino society", it's worth including on your resume among your technical skills and technical projects.
I would add "you're probably gonna have to send a lot of applications" as a bullet point but I'm sure you're already doing that. But here it is as a bullet point anyway.
(This is kind of a guess, since it's part of the resume screening) but if you can dedicate some time to getting at least passingly familiar with popular tech/stacks for the positions you're looking into, try doing that in your free time so you can list it on your resume. Even better if you make a project you can point to. Like if you're aiming for webdev, get familiar with React and probably NodeJS. On top of being comfortable in one of the all-purpose languages like C(++) or Java or Python.
If you get to the interview phase - a company that is good to work for WILL care that you're someone who's good to work with. A tech-genius who's a coworker-hating egotistical snob is a nuisance at best and a liability at worst for companies with even a half-decent culture. When I do interviews, "Is this someone who's a good culture fit?" is as important as the technical skills. You'll want to show you'll be a perfectly pleasant, helpful, collaborative coworker. If the company DOESN'T care about that... bullet dodged.
For the technical questions, I care more about the thought process than I do the right answer, especially for entry-level. If you show a capacity for asking good, insightful clarifying questions, an ability to break down the problem, explain your thought process, and backtrack&alter your approach upon realizing something won't work, that's all more important than just being able to spit out a memorized leetcode answer. (I kinda hate leetcode for this reason, and therefore I only ask homebrewed questions, because I don't want the technical portion to hinge at all on whether someone managed to memorize the first 47 pages of leetcode problems). For a new hire, the most important impression you can give me is that you have a technical grasp and that you're capable of learning. Because a new hire isn't going to be an expert in anything, but they're someone who's capable of learning the ropes.
That's everything I have off the top of my head. Good luck anon. I'm very sorry you were born during a specific range of years that made you a new grad in 2024 and I hope it gets better.
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st-el-la-luna · 11 months ago
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Thinking about @charliemwrites Charmed Slasher!Ghost
First of all:
Perfect Wife by Amigo the Devil
"And if I hurt you, please forgive me. Love makes you do funny things"
Music recommendations aside, let's crack in.
18+ Content. NSFW. AFAB reader you/your pronouns used. Mentions of mensurating, blood, period sex, oral (reader receiving), blood consumption
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Charmed Slasher Ghost who, for one reason or another, has a nose like a bloodhound. Can smell the change in your hormones in the days leading up to your period. Can smell your blood. And oh, fuck, does he want more of it. More. More. More. More. More.
Will throw out or hide your medications, break your heating pads, get rid of the caps for your hot water bottle, leaving you with nothing. He listens to you whine and complain for a while before, casually:
"You know, I've heard an orgasm can help with that."
While a part of him wants nothing more than to take you right there, he waits. He wants you to come to him. Wants to see you all sad and pathetic. Pupils blown, cheeks burning, lips parted with laboured breaths, pouting, eyes watering, voice trembling with shame and desperation as you ask him to please please please help.
He's not going to make it that easy for you though.
"Don't you have toys sweet thing? Don't you have fingers?"
Simon's been watching though. He knows. Knows that you can't cum, not on your own. Knows your fingers can't reach those places that make you see stars and your toys just can't give you that final push over the edge.
He wants to hear you say it though. Wants you to tell him that you need him. Wants you to beg.
And you do.
It doesn't take long. In fact, it happens so quickly you almost get whiplash. In one moment, you're in the kitchen pleading with Simon, tears in your eyes.
The next, well... There are still tears in your eyes. Just for a different reason.
Blood soaked panties torn off, Simon wastes no time pushing two thick fingers inside. It's tight. It's warm. It's wet. When he pulls his fingers back, they're coated in red.
You whine at the loss and he doesn't disappoint, touching you in ways you've never been touched before. Fingers curling inside you, abusing this spongy spot that has your back arching, thumb rubbing against your clit so harsh it's almost cruel.
Your head is thrown back, eyes shut, slack jawed. You can't remember the last time you felt this good.
"How's that sweetheart? That feel good?" he croons, his eyes almost overtaken by the black of your pupils.
He leans in to your inner thighs, wet with arousal, spit and blood. His tongue lolls out.
Your eyes go wide. You reach down to grab at his hair, trying to pull him away. "Wait, I—"
He growls. Literally growls, his eyes dark.
"Thought you wanted help... You didn't expect me to do this for nothing, did you?" He asks lowly. His free hand goes from grabbing at your hips and massaging the fat of your ass, to holding your wrists in a vice like grip.
He lowers himself again, still working his fingers. His breath is hot and warm against sensitive skin. His eyes flutter. He lets out something between a sigh and a moan, inhaling the smell of your blood.
Is he...?
He is.
You realise, eyes widening, jaw going slack, from both shock and the way he's curling his fingers inside you, abusing your sensitive spots. He's actually drooling.
He groans, then dives in, flattening his tongue against your thigh and licking a long stripe, gathering your blood and arousal on his tongue. His eyelashes flutter. His eyes roll back. His hips buck against empty air.
"So fucking good..." He grumbles as he slips a third finger in, licking and biting at the meat of your thighs. "Taste so fucking good."
He works you to not one but three orgasms. Once on his fingers, once on his tongue and once on his cock. Until you're fucked out and sated, boneless.
He brings his fingers down, gathers up a heaping portion of his cum and your blood from between your legs, then brings his fingers to your lips.
"Open wide, sweetheart."
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fxchild · 1 year ago
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The Switch
Miles Fairchild x fem!reader
Chapter nine: Make you stay.
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Miles pov
I think it's been one- no. Two weeks, since Y/n had that.. encounter? It's not like we had sex or anything but I definitely didn't expect to make out on her bed until Flora came banging on her door complaining about a nightmare, while Y/n forced me to hide under her damn bed on the cold floor for half an hour while she made sure Flora went to sleep and didn't bother us again. I was kinda glad we got interrupted if I'm being honest. Even though Y/n pounced on me like a lion to a gazelle, she seemed pretty nervous whenever I kissed her too hard or if I touched her leg. Believe it or not things have been even more awkward than before when we were constantly nipping at each other and now I'm starting to miss the fighting more than the dry tension in the room.
Anyways, I've got about fourteen days to make things less awkward and for her to stay with us for the summer. I heard her talking on the phone a few days back, thinking about taking up a different job in California. Her teacher recommended it or some shit, get into a better college. She's not going to Harvard I know that for sure.
Something that's been pissing me off is that Quint has been messing with her head so now she sleeps with the door off and the lamp lights on. I asked him to lay off but it's not doing much. I've been trying to sneak in to make sure he's not fucking with her in her sleep or anything. She's only sixteen like me after all, he shouldn't be messing with kids our age, especially the ones I want to stay.
Uhm, another thing is that I've been out of it for a day or two. Like my throat is pretty dry and I've had a wicked headache. I swear to god if I wake up tomorrow with a cold I'm gonna be pissed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Your pov
It's been about two weeks since Miles and I had that half-assed hookup. Ever since then it's been so awkward. We can't even speak to each other now for more than two sentences before getting freaked out and forgetting what we were talking about. I mean, it's easier to focus on Flora and her work, but at the same time it's boring without being able to pick a fight with Miles. I miss our back and forth bickering because at least it kept us talking and occupied. I have fifteen days before I go back home for the summer, I really wanted to stay but I've gotten more job offerings in new places and I want to go out and explore. Plus, spending the summer in some creepy ass house, with a boy who can't even be in the same room as me for five minutes doesn't seem like the ideal summer. I feel bad for leaving Flora, and I guess Miles because they are all alone with Ms. Grose, who is lucky if she can live another four years. But I need to put myself first, that's what's important. I just wish Miles would talk to me before I leave, because even though we snap at each other, he's been growing on me. I'm not saying I like his stuck up asshole personality but I see how he is with Flora and I sometimes wish he could be able to open up to me like that.
This morning I woke up to the sound of projectile vomiting. I figured it was coming from Flora's room since she ate a lot of chocolate last night. I ran to her room to check on her to find her still asleep in her bed. Then I realized that the puking and groaning was coming from Miles room. I debated on leaving him there to take care of himself since he thinks he's grown and can take care of himself but then I remembered the time I was drunk. The way he drove me home at 2am and stayed outside my door all night in case I felt sick again. I walked into his room and knocked on his closed bathroom door.
"Miles, it's just me. I'm gonna come in okay?" I say as I hear him groan and spit into the toilet. I open the door to see his face almost glued to the toilet bowl, gasping and throwing up. I sit next to him and rub his back, grabbing a few sheets of toilet paper so he can wipe his mouth when he's done. "Get it all out, that's it.." I whisper to him as he continues to gag.
When he finishes he grabs the toilet paper from my hand and wipes his mouth, flushing the toilet. I let him sit on the floor with his back pressed against the wall for a moment as I grab a washcloth, drenching it in cold water. I put it on the back of his neck as he tries to stand up. He walks over to me where I'm putting toothpaste on his toothbrush and handing it to him.
"Make sure to brush your tongue too." I put the cap back on his toothpaste. "I'm gonna get you a new shirt, there's a little bit of puke on it." I point to the spot on his shirt. I walk out of his room and open his closet, looking for an old shirt in the piles on the floor. Miles walks back into the room and curls up on his mattress with his washcloth in his hands. I didn't even realize he came back into the room until he spoke up and groaned.
"Jesus it's fucking freezing in here.." I turned around to see him shirtless, breathing heavily and laying down. I grab a random green shirt and walk over to his mattress.
"No Miles, sit up you have to let your stomach settle for a bit." I prop his pillows against the wall and help him sit up a bit. I let him put his new shirt on and pulled the covers up to his waist. I felt his forehead and winced at his temperature. "Miles, you're really hot." I sighed and bit my bottom lip trying to think of how to take care of him.
He let out a chuckle and wrapped a hand over his stomach. "I'm hot? Thanks.." I frown at him since this isn't something to be joking about. "Not funny." I say with pursed lips and put the washcloth on his forehead.
"I'm gonna go to the store to get you some medicine. Flora used it the last time she was sick. Do you want me to pick you up something?" I put my hands on my hips and waited for his response.
He sat there for a second to think, "Am I even allowed to eat anything? Like I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to eat when you're sick." He tilted his head, squinting his eyes.
"You're allowed to eat Miles but only if you feel up for it. I can pick you up some grits, or popsicles? Do you sound up for that when you get your appetite back?" I rub the back of my neck, giving him a sympathetic look.
"I'm not hungry..I-I don't care okay? I'll be fine by tomorrow." He shakes his head and waves his hand in the air.
"Okay, well I'm still going to the store because I'm not putting up with your whining later. I'll be back in an hour okay?" I shrug and ruffle his hair lightly before trying to smack my hands away.
I brush my teeth, grab my keys and put on some slippers. I head out to the car to start for the store.
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Miles pov
She couldn't have taken any fucking longer to get back from the store could she? I'm sitting in my bed, trying my best for an hour to hold my stomach until she comes back but it's getting too painful. I ran to the bathroom throwing up nothing but stomach acid. I was panting and almost crying from the pain, it felt like my stomach was twisting. Y/n hears me gagging and rushes into the bathroom to rub my back and hold back my hair. When I'm done, there's tears in my eyes from the pain and she gives me this stupid sad look like she feels sorry for me or some dumb shit. I sit on my bathroom counter as she hands me my toothbrush again. She opens up a small can of Gingerale and puts it on my nightstand.
"You don't have to drink it now, but if your stomach feels funny again try some. It works trust me." She smiles and feels my forehead again to see if my fever had gone down a little. I sit there under the covers with my head against the wall as Y/n sits at the end of my mattress reading a book.
"What's that?" I say weakly, motioning to the book. I catch her attention and she smiles. "A book?" She giggles trying to be funny or something.
"Yeah, no shit." I chuckle and she gives me an unamused look. So apparently I'm not allowed to be funny anymore I guess. "What's it about?"
"It's about a prince trying to find his princess through a dream. It's really cute." She gets up to sit next to me on the mattress, showing me the blurb.
"Oh.. fantasy?" I mutter out as a question.
"Yeah, I like fantasy. You don't?" She tilts her head to look at me, tabbing her book before closing it. I shrug, "I mean, it's not bad but I just can't ever get into it."
"Well maybe that's because you haven't read a good one." She smirks, and for a second I feel like we aren't talking about books. I shook my head and stayed silent for a few minutes.
"You know, I usually get sick in the summer." I give her a side glance. I lied, I never get sick. This was the first time in probably a year and a half I've gotten sick. "I mean, who's gonna get me a cold washcloth and rub my back when I'm throwing up?" I smirk at her slightly.
"Ms. Grose?" She jokes and I roll my eyes.
"Be serious Y/n. She's so old I think she's gonna kick the bucket any day now. And when she does that, who's gonna help me take care of Flora? I don't have any parents you know." I sit up more and turn to face her, putting my hands in my lap.
She sighs and turns to face me. "Who said I was leaving?" She gives me a confused look.
"Y/n I heard you on the phone. I mean California seems nice, but is that what you really want?" I give her a dead eyed look and raise a brow.
She studies my face letting out a deep breath, "Miles, you don't even like having me around. We fight all the time, why do you want me around?" She shakes her head and leans back a little bit.
"Come on, Flora will miss you. She'll be upset that you aren't coming back. I mean she really loves you, fuck, she wants you to be her mother! She needs you, Y/n- I-I need you okay? I can't even take care of myself while I'm sick and you expect me to take care of myself, a whole property and a little girl? I mean, jesus, what do I have to do to make you stay?" I spurt out quickly, motioning my hands everywhere with dramatic tones.
She smiles for a moment and grabs my hand, "You just did." She gives me a sincere look, like we finally came to an agreement. I let out a relieved sigh I didn't even know I was holding and she giggled. "Why do we fight so much? Everything would be so much easier if we just listened to each other, you know?" She asks even though she sounds like she already knows her own reason.
"I think you know why I do it.." I look at my red candles I caught her staring at one day in particular when she first came into my room.
She looked at the candles then back at my eyes. "Because you don't know how to treat people?" She barely whispered out. She looked into my eyes for a moment before speaking once more. "I only pick fights with you cause I think you're kinda cute." She admits, leaning back again.
I raise a brow, "You think I'm cute?" I chuckle and she let's go of my hand, she's trying to bite back a smile.
"Yeah, you're cute. So what?" She smirks and we stare at each other. I think we were both waiting for one of us to do something, anything. But no one moved or spoke. After a moment of my silence she got up and put the covers back over my waist. "You should get some rest, it's not good to stay up when you're delirious." She gave me a dejected look and turned off my lamp.
"I'm not delirious." I grab her wrist gently and assure her.
"You're sick, Miles." She gives me a stern tone, and eyes me down to let go of her wrist.
"I know what I'm saying, Y/n." I gulp and give her the smallest smile I could muster and let go of her wrist, laying back into the pillows. She slides a hand on my forehead and it goes into my curls. She kissed my forehead and walked to the door.
"Get some sleep, call me if you need anything okay?" She gave me a sad smile and walked out of the room.
Now she was just confusing me because did she just reject me without either of us talking about dating? I don't think I asked her out but I think I wanted to. I want to I really do, but how the hell am I supposed to do that when she can't take me seriously? I better get over this damn sickness soon.
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Hi hi! It's fxchild back again with another chapter! Sorry if this is bad I had to rewrite it THREE times because it kept god damn deleting. This took me 2 hours and 15 minutes to write (I timed it yes) so hopefully you enjoyed it. Plsplspls if you did not see my other post to put some requests in because this will be one of the last chapters until Mr. Fairchild finishes his story. I literally do not care what you ask me to write as long as it's not acc insane. If my requests don't work PLEASE dm me I will answer because no one texts me like ever ! Anyways, I love you guys so so much 💕 thank you for continuing to motivate me to write.
-fxchild
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lovekz · 7 months ago
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gentleman
syn - ran haitani is a gentleman. sometimes.
cw - indirect insults, ran is a jerk (some point), chubby reader, ran and reader aren't a couple; fwb kinda, not proofread, you get it
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ran is a gentleman.
he is, he just has to be.
he was raised in two houses, with two mothers. one jerk of a father.
he and his younger brother rindou, have two different mothers, but the same jerk of a father.
they were the only two important women in their life, the reason they do what they do.
these two women, taught them what love is. how they should treat the woman they'll love, and eventually marry.
how to not be like their father, and dump two boys into their hands and a hush paycheck.
so why?
why in the world would he clear his throat, stand tall, and dare himself to say that to you?
"ran, lets go out tonight." you beam at him, turning over in his comfy bed and playing with his hair.
ran gives you a lazy gaze, flipping over to face you and pressing a large hand on your cheek.
he doesn't respond, staring into your eyes as you hold onto his arm.
"was thinking. you know, we haven't been out in a while. rindou recommended this pasta place, and it looks really good." you explain, holding up the phone to his face
ran looks at the place, and then back at you.
you aren't sure what his silence is supposed to mean, but you continue.
"plus, it'll be a good excuse to dress up and look pretty. you know?" you falter a bit, putting your phone down.
"haven't you gained enough weight in the past few days? you want to eat out again?" ran says, before his brain can process it.
you stop breathing, and your heart practically stops beating against your ribcage.
ran has never spoken to you like that, you've never heard him speak the way he did.
"trust me. this'll put so much more weight on you, and either of us won't like it." ran says again, and he doesn't know what's going on.
shut up, he thinks, looking at you begin to screw up your face.
where did it come from? he hasn't a clue.
you sit up from your position and kick your feet off the bed, rubbing your face in frustration.
"wait- i didn't-" "you could've just said you wanted to stay in." you spit, breath hitching as you gather your clothes.
you get dressed quickly and leave, promptly blocking his number.
ever since, ran hasn't heard from you, but he's definitely seen your posts on instagram.
pictures of you and your friends, having girls nights and brunches and what not and-
has your ass gotten fatter?!
ran groans in frustration, throwing his phone down on his stomach.
"between you and milly, i don't know who's worse." rindou walks in the living room, holding his six month old in his hands.
ran sighs, sitting up and taking her from his grasp to rest her on his chest.
rindou takes a seat on the recliner, and leans his head back.
"i don't know what to do rin. her ass is fatter!" ran complains, patting milly's back soothingly.
his younger brother gives him a old look, before sitting up a little bit.
"just apologize. i don't know, you showed up to my house, scared my wife off, and keep crying over her. what'd you do?" rindou questions, laying on his side to get your attention.
ran sighs, giving milly a glance. she coos at him, stretching her little arms while she yawns.
"might've pointed out her biggest insecurity." ran grumbles, embarrassed to even admit it.
"you called her fat?!" rindou whisper yells, taking note of his daughter finally falling asleep.
ran adjusts the little girl in his hands, and sighs quietly.
"i didn't say it directly." ran explains, closing his eyes and tilting his head back to rest on the back of the couch.
rindou groans, covering his face and shaking his head in embarrassment for his brother.
"i don't know what to do. i can't lose her." ran says, opening his eyes once more.
rindou drops his hands into his lap, and flinches at the loud sound it made when it collided with the meat on his thighs.
the sound makes ran flinch as well, and the little girl in his arms jolt awake and begin sobbing once more.
rindou sighs, standing up from the seat and rubbing his eyes.
it's one in the morning, and he can't stand this anymore.
"okay. time for a walk." rindou says, stretching his limbs.
-
the two brothers walk with tamila for a while, up until they reach their childhood home.
the light in the foyer is on, and so is the light in the kitchen.
ran is the one who takes the first step onto the patio, and rings the bell 7 annoying times.
the door swings open, and rindou's birth mother stands there with an irritated face.
she's dressed up, holding her heel in her hand.
when she notices it's ran, she beams and holds her hands out to embrace him.
"ran! what are you doing out so late?" she questions, pulling him into the home.
it still smells the same, like rosemary and something sweet.
he remembers going to school and having everyone smell how good he smelt all the time.
"hey ma." rindou greets, pulling the stroller into the house with a short smile.
a bit more stumbling, and in comes ran's birth mother, dressed up as well.
"aww look at you two all grown!" she giggles, pulling them both into a big hug as rindou's birth mother closes the door.
they hug for a bit, before dragging them into the living room to fawn over the (finally) sleeping baby.
"what brings you two in so late? and why do you look like you haven't slept?" ran's birth mother questions, sitting next to ran.
"mom, i f- messed up. really bad." he complains, looking at her with upset eyes.
she gets comfortable in her seat and swings one leg over the other, looking at him.
rindou's mother follows, letting her son rest.
"what happened? oh you see rico, i told you that dream i had meant something." rindou's birth mother points out, fixing her hair.
"whatever kali, fill us in come on!" ran's birth mother said, tapping ran to get his attention.
so ran begins to tell them about you.
how you met at rindou's work party as both plus ones, how you got to know each other at rindou's baby shower, and how he took you out on dates when he'd get his pay check.
he doesn't fail to begin to mention how great the sex was, since he forgot he was talking to his moms.
all down to what he had said to you the last night he sent you.
his mothers listen intently, sharing looks instead of giving him the feedback he hoped for.
when he finishes, he takes a breath and looks at the two women.
they share one last look, before rico (ran's birth mother) takes a deep sigh and slaps ran across the face.
before he can say anything in response, kali gives him yet another slap on his other cheek.
"you fucked up. bad. but you can fix it. you know where she lives?" rico says, looking at her boy.
he nods, and kali sits up in her spot. "get her right boy. you might wanna grovel at her feet if she's actually the way she is." kali yawns, planting a kiss on his temple.
and that's what ran fears.
-
it's seven in the morning, and you're laying in bed, skimming through the many different reels on instagram.
for some reason, you can't find anything funny.
you sigh, flipping over onto your back and staring up at the ceiling.
there wasn't anything for you to do today. all your girlfriends had gone back to work and you gave yourself the day off.
you hear the front door open, and a pair of keys swinging around.
oh no.
you scramble out of bed and tug on a pair of sweats, storming your way downstairs.
"get out." you say immediately, glaring at- a bunch of bags?
gucci, dolce and gabbanna, edible arrangements, ihop, the bakery not too far, foot locker, marc jacobs, and so much more.
they are all laid out on the floor in front of the culprit, ran haitani.
before you can say anything, he gets on his knees and presses his head onto the floor.
"fuck i don't deserve you baby. i'm so sorry." ran says a bit loud, his hair touching the floor along with him.
"m' a piece of shit and i shouldn't have said that to you. you're so fucking gorgeous and i don't know what i was thinking when that came out of my mouth." ran explains.
you stare down at him, and then glance at all the bags.
"where.. did you get all this from? how?" you question, folding your arms over your chest.
ran sits up and points to everything, explaining how his mothers made him drive all over to get all this for you.
he then points to the bag of money, fixing his hair, and looking directly at you.
"then this is your rent, for the next two months. my whole paycheck." ran says, standing to his full height.
you stare at him, before taking a seat.
"you told your.. mothers? about me?" you question quietly, holding your hand out to him.
he takes it and nods, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it multiple times.
"they think you're wonderful. slapped the shit out of me when i told them what i did." ran chuckles, rubbing his cheek.
you roll your eyes, before letting him help you out of your seat and pulling you closer to him.
"i love you, alright? i can't stop thinking about you and i know i don't deserve you, but fuck do i want you." ran whispers, looking into your eyes.
you lean into him and wrap your arms around him, giving him a smile.
"then have me." you whisper back, just inches away from his lips.
it's safe to say the big breakfast and edible arrangements were forgotten within seconds.
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destinygoldenstar · 3 months ago
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☀️🎵Can We Just Talk?🎵☀️ - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 1 Episode 7 “Spit It Out”
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Yeah, I'm back already...
Again, I'm aware of Season 3's finale airing. Didn't watch it obviously.
But I will say, it's kinda difficult to not be sick to your stomach when ALL you hear about something is HATE.
Like, I have not heard a single positive thing about Season 3 and I'm kinda nervous now. (Is it really THAT bad?)
That's why I'm just doing my own thing with the first season and reacting to it in my "Just enjoy it" way. (It's not same as "Turn your brain off" because "Turn your brain off" implies not paying attention)
I will remind everyone, I was NOT recommended this show. The people who replied to me asking if I should watch it said "NO. Don't watch it. It's awful."
So I CHOSE to do this at my own will. I have no one to blame but myself.
I'm enjoying this season so far and I don't want that to be spoiled by people telling me not to.
Cause while criticism is okay, it always is, spreading nothing but hate and spite and nasty threats to anyone involved does a lot more damage than you think. You get a RWBY fandom situation where the only thing going on is harassment and bullying and it drives everyone away and leaves no room for air on takes that aren't majority. I DON'T WANT TO BE A PART OF THAT. ESPECIALLY NOT DEATH THREATS. THAT IS NOT OKAY TOWARDS ANYBODY.
So yeah, hearing any hate towards Disventure Camp about anything, I'm NOT part of it. I am not to blame for anything. I just want to stay in my corner and say what I want to say. (As long as it's not threats, like I said, I can't do that either)
*deep breath*
I just wanted to get this off my chest. NOW THAT THIS IS OUT OF THE WAY,
We're back with Season 1. I beg that there is no double elimination for a THIRD TIME IN A ROW. I'll lose my mind.
Okay, let's get into this, shall we?
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Oh we're starting right where we left off last time.
IT'S A TEAM SWAP.
...again...
"My whole team is going to reGRETT voting for me."
"They're going to wish they had never crossed me."
Go off queen!
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OH GOD-
What a kind greeting XD
Not the Purple Team becoming the VILLAINS Team!
"I hope that Ellie doesn't have any hard feelings."
Be thankful she isn't Jake, who DEFINATELY would.
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OH YAY THEY'RE TOGETHER!!!
We get to see more of them!!
It sucked we couldn't because they were on opposite teams before. BUT NOW WE CAN!
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And she immediately goes to Jake to introduce herself.
I have no idea why she'd pick that. But you know what? All for friendships.
"If we lose, we can vote for her instead of one of us."
HOW. IS. DAN. STILL. HERE?!?!
Like, I'm genuinely really tired of him now.
I made a post (that got a lot of hate) about screen time not being problematic for characters so long as they're DOING SOMETHING with that screen time.
Dan is not that. This is my least favorite character in this group. I'm sorry Dan stans.
Everyone else has something to do. All Dan does is push a non-existent alliance and make sexist comments and otherwise has no personality.
GET HIM OUT. I'M SICK OF HIM.
"Gabby is a psychotic backstabber, Jake and Tom are a toxic couple, Miriam is a useless old lady, and Dan is a dumb kid who pretends to know things."
OH GOD, NOT THE SLANDER
She do be right about Jake & Tom though...
"How'd they win so many challenges?"
Because they have numbers.
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VILLAIN TEAM
"If you promise to never vote for us, we'll help you."
What if your team loses?
Do you vote for the VOID?!
"Okay, I'll read the votes... WHY ARE THEY ALL SCRIBBLES OF FLOWERS?!?"
"Something about the other two makes me feel at home, that's something I haven't really felt before..."
AW, VILLAIN BONDING. SHE FOUND HER PLACE IN THE WORLD!!
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They're still beefing.
I've been eating toxic yaoi two days in a row now. It's junk food, I'll tell you that.
Is Ellie gonna reason with Jake? Awww
"Gabby told me you and Tom are close, but it doesn't look that way anymore."
They had a fight. It happens.
"Are you mad?"
"Yes I am! Tom has been lying to all of us since we got here! He lied to me like everyone else does!"
OH GEEZ THAT LAST PART
I was gonna say "I'm interested in this impulsive and petty anger issues version of Jake"
But that "LIKE EVERYONE ELSE DOES" part. OOF.
Like, my god, how can you blame him though?!
Yeah he wasn't right. But his POV.
"I don't want to bother you with my problems."
Ngl, when I was younger I would vent to strangers all my petty problems and yeah, that's a version of me you should be happy isn't on Tumblr. I grew up, I got in a better environment, and I'm in a better place now.
"It's okay, after last night I know what it's like being betrayed. Everything you say is safe with me."
I like this. I like Ellie being nice to him.
"I like Jake, he's a good guy, even if he's a bit dramatic."
That is MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY
"Honestly, a five minute conversation could probably solve this issue."
Yes. Yes it would. But is it that simple with these two?
"I wanted to thank you..."
Oh?
"For not voting for me yesterday."
Oh...
Yeah no I want you eliminated this episode. You're selfish.
"You'll wish I'd just gone home."
"We already do."
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😂
I love Miriam.... oh my god.... 😂
That had no right being as funny as a burn as that was!!
This sounds like a VERY complicated challenge. I'm gonna have to see it in action.
"Is everything okay between us Ellie?"
"What do you think?!"
"What do you think Alec?"
She said exactly that XD
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This does NOT look safe!
"Can you help me Jake?"
"I don't think so."
You're STILL salty?
OMG, TALK. IN PERSON WORD ON WORD.
"I took water polo, lacrosse, cheerleading, and even debate."
Debate's not a sport, is it?
Maybe it is and I'm a dumbass.
"What? Debate not a sport? I could debate that."
OKAY THAT WAS HER TALKING DIRECTLY TO ME
"Golden, I can debate on your words!"
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This looks like a nightmare to ride
"Things are a bit complicated with Jake, aren't they?"
"That's one way to put it. I know it's my fault but he's exaggerating with his attitude."
Yeah, Tom is right here. But I LOVE that he acknowledges he's at fault for it.
"He's just an immature kid, don't take it personally."
"It's hard not to."
"He'll get over it."
Will he though? Will he?
Grett and Alec are trying to DROWN the child at this point.
"Fiore can't collect water if she's dead!"
Even Alec says it!
Is Grett actually gonna develop from this experience?
"Have you calmed down a bit yet?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just... I can't forget how he lied to me and how that made me feel."
"And have you thought about how that made him feel?"
Ooh, yes. I love that. Call him out.
"I'm just saying it must have been hard for him too."
Yes. Yes it was.
I get both sides. I do. Tom was trying to do a job and got revealed lying about it and didn't consider how that would hurt his friend (for understandable reasons). And Jake got some flashbacks of bad events and overreacted as a result.
"He only used me to go undercover."
"How do you know?"
"Well, I... Grett said so..."
"Did you hear Tom's side? You should ask him. People are... complex. You can't jump to conclusions."
👏
GLORIOUS. THAT WHOLE THING.
Talk to Tom. Hear his side. Apologize. Make up. Be friends again.
It'll all be fine. I still have my hope.
...and maybe this is why I called their dynamic junk food...
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GABBY'S TAKING CHARGE LIKE THE QUEEN SHE IS
Also not Tom wearing TWO masks now! That looks so awkward.
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Knew that would happen.
NOT GABBY LAUGHING AT JAKE'S EXPENSE. COME ON.
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Welcome to SLAPSTICK THE EPISODE.
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NUT SHOT.
Though this time it was a block.
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NO WAIT I SWEAR I'VE SEEN THAT ON A SURVIVOR CLIP BEFORE-
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Oh that's just straight up sabotage.
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HELL YEAH!!!
Fiore told Grett to SLAY yet again.
Really? NO ONE on the team is good with puzzles?!
I say that like I'm good at them, but I'm not either.
Purple Team wins!
It's been HOW LONG since Purple Team won?
"Our team was on a winning streak but suddenly Ellie joins our team and we lose?"
I'm sorry, HOW was this her fault exactly?
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OH MY GOD HE'S TALKING TO HIM. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.
"I want to ask you something..."
"Did you really just approach me because of your job?"
Good question.
"You're asking me this now? Where was this question yeaturday?"
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"So you're just here for your job!"
"And our friendship, was that just to blend in too?! Did you ever care about me at all?! Was any of it real, HUH?!"
...I mean, TECHNICALLY he DID ask this already?
It was a bad wording of asking it cause he was mad, but he DID ask it.
"Yeah, I'm sorry..."
Aww. At least he's apologizing.
See? He recognizes he made a mistake!
"Jake... I'm going to tell you the truth."
YES PLEASE. OMG THANK YOU.
"...I really like you."
😲
💗
*I'm gripping my heart from that*
UM... OKAY. I DID NOT EXPECT THAT ANSWER. *Giddy again*
"And the days we spent together fishing, gathering supplies, or just talking at camp... it made me rethink some things."
💗
"Yes, I'm here for work, to investigate someone. My agency doesn't allow me to have contact with anyone here after this investigation is over. But... meeting you felt like we quickly had this connection and I thought... am I really willing to risk everything? My whole career? So we could... be something more?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH 💗
THIS IS GOING SO MUCH BETTER THAN I THOUGHT IT WOULD. OMG.
That's such good insight on Tom's character too! How long was he a spy? I'm curious. Cause if his missions are all like this, then does that mean Tom has no one? No relationships of any kind? Platonic or romantic?
Cause DAMN that makes too much sense for him to act like this then.
"But the way you've behaved in the last few days made one thing clear to me. I don't really know you. And I can't risk everything for someone who acts so unpredictably."
💔
AAAAAANNNNDDDD it's gone.
I do understand that though. At the end of the day, they knew each other for how many days? And if Tom's career is that serious, then of course he can't.
"Tom, I'm... I'm sorry..."
AW COME ON. HE SAID HE WAS SOWWY.
"But I said I was sowwy! And I meant it!!"
"I was so selfish thinking only for myself! I had no idea!"
This is why I love Jake! He actually ACKNOWLEDGES he's in the wrong and owns up to it!
"That's correct. You had no idea. You never bothered to ask."
And Tom doesn't even coddle him and say "No no, it's okay." That wouldn't be in character, I feel.
"Yes. You screwed up. I hope you know you screwed up. Know what you did was wrong and there's not an excuse for it."
AND HE JUST WALKS AWAY AFTER THAT?!
💔Goddammit...
I LOVED that scene though. Maybe they will be alright after all.
"See? We CAN talk it out! We're not Gwen and Trent!"
"I think the decision is simple. We vote for Ellie."
No. What did she do?!
"She is the only option."
Do you still have blindfolds on?
"As for Ellie, who even is she?"
She's a wannabe college student with a life of bad labor and debt and has passions to be a designer.
"Gabby, trust me, it's for the best."
"FOR YOU IT IS!"
YES! CALL HIM OUT!!
"You always do what's best for you and you don't care what anyone else thinks!"
YUUUUUUSSSSS!!!! DAN SLANDER!!!
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Oh god it's Blabby! She's back!
"That boy wants to control you just like Grett did!"
Yes. Yes he does.
"I think I need a hug."
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Awwwwwwww 💗
These two are such besties, I love them!
"Uh... I have to go... clean my socks... or something..."
XD
Best excuse ever.
Tom, how did you even become a spy? You suck at your job.
"I'll be back later!"
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*Jumps in a bush*
XD
And Miriam just walks away from him XD
"Nah, I'm too old for this shit. I'm out."
"Agent Smith, I wasn't expecting your call at this time."
Smith? His name is Tom Smith?
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What happened?
Is the guy he's after planning something worse?
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Oh come on Jake. Why Gabby?
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Yeah, we know this one.
I thought Gabby and Ellie would convince Jake to vote with them and tie it or something. But no.
WAIT SO THAT MEANS ELLIE IS SCREWED.
"WAIT!!"
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"I have an immunity totem and I want to use it."
OH MY GOD THE IDOL. OH MY GOD SHE'S SAVED.
"I want to use this totem to nullify the votes against Ellie!"
YEP. ELLIE'S NOT GOING.
Gabby, SLAY. Successfully reading the room, saving her only ally!
GREAT PLAY.
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The subtitles XD
"Any votes on Ellie will not count!"
'ELLIE' *DOESN'T COUNT*
There's three, right?
So this was a successful idol play?
'ELLIE' *DOESN'T COUNT*
'ELLIE' *DOESN'T COUNT*
YEP. SUCCESSFUL IDOL PLAY.
'GABBY'
That's Jake throwing his vote.
'DAN'
OH MY GOD, PLEASE. IS HE GONE?!
PLEASE NOT GABBY.
It's gotta be Dan. He's gotta be gone!
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YES! HE'S GONE!!!!
"Why would you waste your totem on Ellie?"
Dude, Ellie was Gabby's ONLY ally in the game. She didn't protect Ellie, then they'd both be screwed.
"I didn't waste it. I saved her cause she treats me like a person."
That too. 💗
WHAT A TRIBAL COUNCIL!!
I like good idol plays, what can I say?
And Dan's finally gone!
I'm sorry, but he was the worst character of the cast.
Lasted too long, no personality, and the only thing he did with all his screen time was talk about an alliance that didn't exist, and be sexist.
And before you say his actions and dialogue weren't sexist: GUYS alliance. Is only seen targeting female characters. Downplays Gabby's problems over his own wants.
He rubbed me off the wrong way and I don't regret bullying him.
At least everyone else on that team was interesting in one way or another, but Dan had nothing.
I GUESS the only thing he did was be the foil to Grett for Gabby's development? As he was someone who also tried to use her but was nicer to her so it left her conflicted? But really, you could've given that role to ANY character. You could've had, idk, Tom do that and not much would change.
Actually, that would add onto the 'Tom is only here for work' plot.
BUT HEY, AT LEAST I DIDN'T JINX ANYBODY WITH THE HEADING THIS TIME! THAT'S A PLUS!
Still, THANK YOU GABBY for slaying this show as usual! You are a GIFT, sweetheart and we're so happy to have you!
GABBY FOR THE WIN!
Anyway, idk if this will get any attention because of the Season 3 finale, but hey, I can continue these if you guys seem interested and entertained by them.
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fandomfluffandfuck · 5 months ago
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congrats on finishing finals mr s!!!! 🥳 hope u have a good break :)
(on a semi-related note, i would like to humbly request evanstan spitkink if u havent done so already, but if u have... 🤲)
Thank you so much!!
I've written a tiny bit of spit kink with stucky in my series "You Can('t) Teach An Old Dog New Tricks," specifically in chapter one of "Shake" so if you haven't read that, I would highly recommend it, lol.
Also, while on the stucky spit kink train, if you haven't read this drabble from K (@howdoyousleep3) that has her pairing of Senator Rogers and Intern Bucky with spit kink, I would highly, highly recommend that, too. Maybe even more than mine because, Jesus Christ, it's K, c'mon, of course it's stupidly hot.
Without further ado, evanstan and spit kink 👀
Sebastian has already cum multiple times, he couldn't say if it was twice or a hundred times because he doesn't have the capacity to recount anything right now--not his own name and hardly anything as complex as numbers that string together to make any form of sense. All that exists is flames and heat and this. This moment where he's being kept in a glass enclosure of pleasure. Untouched but so, so touched. Guh. That doesn't make sense. It doesn't need to. He loves this. He needs this. He aches for this. Kept bound, sweet, and small underneath Chris, who is so indescribably big and heavy and perfect.
Sebastian has made a slick mess all over himself, all over Chris, too, from cumming his brains out until there's nothing left. He's pulsed and rippled and throbbed through the height of pleasure so many times that his cock--which he knows is dizzying, hazily, somewhere down there, along the yielding, melted line of his body, but he can hardly locate at the moment--has gone soft. He's aware of just how soft he is, despite feeling so, so unbelievably hard because Chris keeps fondling him.
Stroking his soft, weeping cock, drawing more, endless liquid from it that might be more cum, it might be pre-cum because time is nothing if not broken at this moment, it might be piss, commanded into emptying himself in every conceivable way possible, it might be all of him--he might be truly liquid.
Cupping his soft cock against his clenching tummy, trapping the tortured shape between his calloused, heavy palm and his body--encased, surrounded, overwhelmed just like Sebastian is.
Petting his soft cock, down the limp length as if it's precious. Treating the vulgar sight of his used, exploited dick as if it's innocent and cute. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Sebastian has never experienced something so filthy.
As insane as Chris is driving him, caressing him with one hand while he's driving in and out of him ruthlessly, fucking him out of his goddamn mind, Sebastian can't do a single thing about it.
Touched.
Fucked.
Groped.
Helpless, Sebastian is spread thin like butter soaking into hot toast with his hands tied to each opposite corner of the headboard. He's anchored there by Chris' silk neckties, a caress of possessive hands in of themselves, scented with Chris' favorite cologne and normally hung around his neck in the presence of wealthy, powerful people when they're not immobilizing his favorite boy. His arms are spread to their limit, muscles straining deliciously, pinned at the wrist. There's no hope of escape. Sebastian wouldn't dream of moving anyway. He's too good. He wants to live here like this, no matter how crazy it makes him feel.
He's crying, sweating, or drooling maybe? What's the difference anyway? Either way, he's wet. And he's moaning high in his throat, gasping, raw, and rattled harshly by how exquisitely he's being pounded. Loving it. He can't get enough of it, even as it boils over and becomes way, way too much. Overstimulation isn't a strong enough word. It's beyond.
Sebastian's legs aren't tied like his arms, but they are quivering and held tightly around Chris' trim waist, curled so tightly that his heels dig into his feverish body. Clinging.
As he's fucked--harshly, obscenely--Sebastian's near-incoherent pleas have degraded from begging, bitten-off sounds that seek permission to cum to high noises that plead for Chris to cum. He wants Chris to cum in him. Chris hasn't orgasmed yet, he's been too busy. Preoccupied with Sebastian, all needy and aching.
Somehow, somewhere, at some fucking point, Chris began this torture by rimming Sebastian open. Chris bodily pressed him into the bed and spread him, pushing him face down, ass up to devour his way through him. Eating him out. Getting him so fucking wet. Teasing his skin with his facial hair until Seb was red and lushly sensitive between his cheeks and Chris' beared jaw was soaked, Sebastian's taste thick on his wicked tongue. He made Sebastian spill over that way, the slick, hot feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth and beard irresistible. Then. Then, as if he wasn't already wiped out, boneless, and sweetly moldable, Chris had to keep going.
He folded him up, pushing him to his knees, keeping his arms underneath his chest, perfect for teasing his own nipples if only he had enough coordination, and fingered him. Chris made him sloppier, looser on his thick fingers. Three of them. God. He spanked his ass, too, using his other hand knowing Seb's always weak for the white-hot pain. It was out of Seb's control to not clench and squirm, tightening him around his fingers, helping Chris press and rub his prostate until he couldn't stop it anymore and he had to overflow. Pouring. Cumming again. And after-!
After, Chris fucked him with his dick for the first time today. Not the last time. No, of course not, why would he ever fuck Sebastian once when he could luxuriate in the pleasure of sticking it in him aaaaall day.
Guh.
Sebastian was so focused on how heavy and full of cock he felt--split open and speared through his belly into his throat, choking on it--that he doesn't even know if he orgasmed again or not. Maybe he did more than once, maybe he didn't at all without Chris' fist around his then hard cock. He doesn't remember. Just his dick, that's all he remembers feeling. It felt so good. Before Chris had the satisfaction of riding his ass to notification, though, he ripped himself away like a lion from a fresh kill. All for the purpose of playing with his food before he feasted. A true feline, then. Full of blood lust but really just pure lust.
Chris made room for himself inside Sebastian's throbbing body, used him for as long as he pleased, fucking him, and then stuffed him with a vibrator. Because...
Why not?
What else is he good for?
Nggghh.
Sebastian came that way, too, teeth chattering against the torrent of pleasure flowing through him electrically. It was raw, clenching, and so incredibly sensitive. He emptied himself.
And so Seb feels hollow of anything more to give. He's given it all. What's left is everything Chris has stuffed inside of him, molten heat. And despite the lust inside him, filling him, he can't get it back up. He's not going to be able to cum again even though, paradoxically, everything makes him feel like he's cumming. He's stuck, pinned down in a reverent, flowing, liquified state like a white-water rapid river. Everything runs and bleeds together here, in this moment, it's like wet paint. The only picture that could possibly be painted this way is one of pure ecstasy.
Towering over him, heavy and scorching, Chris hoarsely groans. He's back inside him after teasing him with that godforsaken vibrator, and it's wearing them both down fervently. "Y-you want me so bad," he taunts him as if he isn't working him over so good he's making him stupid, forgetting his own name with his dick grinding deep enough to make it hard to breathe, choking. "You want anything of me you can get, don't'cha, baby?" It's a question, but Chris already knows the answer and he fucking knows it well. "You'll take anything, isn't that right, honey?"
Seb has been stripped down too far to be anything but embarrassingly honest. Frantically, he whimpers through a fast, uncoordinated nod.
"I'll give you what you need, sweet thing," he promises, voice rough like a barely caged animal. So tantalizingly close to feral.
Sebastian believes him, god, he believes him with everything he has. Of course, he will. He always does.
"Open," Chris demands, cocky because, naturally, Seb does, just like Chris knows he will. He's delightfully sweet and predictable, after all.
Sebastian does it thoughtlessly, groaning with the spear of pleasure that shoves into him just from being good and obedient like he craves. And without his hips missing a beat, Chris resettles his weight, holding himself up with just one strong arm as he delivers on his promise to give him what he needs--sticking two fingers between Sebastian's gaping, swollen lips.
His lips are all puffy and red because he couldn't quit biting his bottom lip earlier, when he had more control over his own body and motor function, before he melted into a puddle and stayed all open and lax.
Fingers between those glistening, red lips, Chris presses down on his tongue to drag his jaw open wider. Just because he can. Then, he spreads his fingers apart as much as he can, feeling the velvet of the insides of Sebastian's cheeks on his index and middle finger, making a V-shape in his mouth. And while he's at it, teasing, already, Seb has started to drool, his salivary glands tingling, his whole face tingling--he knows this is embarrassing, somewhere, in the muffled, turned-down logical part of his mind that takes a backseat whenever Chris starts touching him, turning him on, but Seb doesn't fucking care that it's embarrassing beyond the heat it brings. Feeling hotter. All he cares about is being good and wet and open for Chris.
All his holes good and wet and open.
Invading his mouth, Chris leans in to do the same to his personal space. His frame dangerous and looming, predatory almost, as he puts their faces close together, posturing up as if he's going to knock him out with a lush, filthy kiss--like he's going to fuck his mouth with his tongue and claim him further. But he doesn't. Chris does something better.
Chris gets so fucking close to him, weighing on him, pressing him hard into the bed, and...
Spits in his mouth.
Sebastian's entire world breaks from its axis. The sound that leaves him in response to having Chris' spit in his mouth, wet on his already drooling tongue, is nothing short of pornographic.
And, oh fuck, the sensation of being claimed so tabboo-ly, spit on, defiled and dirtied, in tandem with the grin that splits Chris' handsome face has Sebastian moaning worse. More. The sound that was all rasp and punched-out turns into loud, molten lust. He's moaning as if he's cumming all over again, pleasure erupting. More than he can take. It's fucking awful. That sensation. The fucking look on Chris' fucking face--unhinged, sharp pleasure at being so in control and knowing that it's all Seb wants. It ruins Sebastian for everything else ever. Immediately. He's fucking gone.
Spoiled.
How is he ever supposed to get off any other way for the rest of his life? That fucking grin. Sharp and predatory and knowing. He knows exactly what he does to Sebastian--how he devastates him and tears him down, stripping him to exposed nerves that sing only for Chris.
All Seb can do is swallow. He swallows again, too. He wants it. He wants all of it so badly.
"You'll take even that, won't you?" Chris' hand not holding himself up to keep rolling his hips, keep fucking him, is suddenly at his throat, pressing, blunt fingernails digging in so his pulse throbs through him like a drum beat so harshly by a fist that it nearly bursts.
Ah!
His thick, strong fingers are still wet with Sebastian's and Chris' own spit. Mixed into a terrible, incredible cocktail. Messy and hot and now smeared into his skin like a sizzling brand. He's owned.
Sebastian swallows a kitten-ish mewl, mortifying in its desperation, only to embarrass himself worse when he can't choke back his assent, "mmmh, mmm-hhm!" He moans. He sobs, "th-thank you."
Chris' fingers bite harder into his throat, and Sebastian hears an angel's choir, "ohh, Seb," his rough, low voice purrs, "what a good boy, such good manners after you get what you want. Look at you, aren't you sweet?"
The only thing that Sebastian's body is capable of doing it quivering, sobbing harder. "Pluh-pleeease!" He cries.
Chris knows what he wants, and beyond, Chris knows what he needs.
Seb might think he's begging for Chris to cum--use him, fill him, fuck him--but Chris just spits into his mouth again. This time, some of it gets on his cheeks and chin, too.
Sebastian was already cracked open and exposed, but then, right fucking then, he shatters. His tongue lolls from his mouth, wanting it all, licking his buzzing, swollen lips, and swallowing his spit.
JesusfuckingChrist.
He's such a mess. It's painted all over his face. He's so wet. And he, he, he just vacates his overwhelmed body and floats, so entirely, perfectly used and consumed, he doesn't need to do anything. So he doesn't. Sebastian hovers. Weightless clouds and spun cotton candy, nothing but desired as Chris has his way with him, doing everything, anything to him. Wring orgasms out of his body, bleeding him dry. Fuck him. Fill him with his release. Spit on him--spit in his mouth. Yes. Yes. Yes.
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mermaidsirennikita · 5 months ago
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hiii caro!! i'm looking for recs with a hairy mmc... like the hairier the better tbh. down for historical/paranormal/contemp, honestly anything that mentions a dude being hairy and the fmc or mmc (doesn't matter!) being into it. thank u queen you've never done me wrong and i trust your recommendations above all others. 🙏❣️
You're so kind! Whenever people say things like that I feel so undeserving lol, it's very sweet.
I also love pelt men. We need more.
SO! I would first off saying that Kresley Cole's werewolf IAD books generally feature big wolfy men (obviously) who tend to be pretty... scruffy. Pleasure of a Dark Prince is always going to be my go-to for entry-level Lykae (as she calls them) (though tbh, Garreth is still... a lot... and I mean that in the best way).
Knockout by Sarah MacLean features Tommy, who is bearded and has thighs like a giant oak trees, which is all what I want. He's supposed to give "the duke from Miss Scarlet and The Duke" (but he fucks) vibes.
A Holly Jolly Ever After by Sierra Simone and Julie Murphy has a hero who's both hairy AND dad bod-i-ful which is honestly just like a fucking dream.
The Game Plan by Kristen Callihan has a very brawny, very beardy, quietly strong NFL player who has been pining after the heroine (his best friend's sister in law) for quite some time. And he is! A virgin!
Devil in Disguise by Lisa Kleypas has Keir, a Scottish hero who is bearded for Plot Important Reasons, but also basically has to wear a beard because he's too pretty without it. Like. The women can't handle it. He's doing them a service.
A lot of Kleypas books have moments that note the heroes' hairy bodies, actually. Which is why she makes it a point to be like RHYS WINTERBORNE JUST CAN'T GROW BODY HAIR AND HE WAS BULLIED FOR IT. In Kleypas books having a smooth chest is like. Something people will spit on you for.
So yeah, basically every Kleypas hero aside from Rhys is gonna have her mention that he is Hairy.
I am not 10000% sure on this, but I feel like The Hawk by Monica McCarty has a hairy Scottish hero. Like I feel as if there's a scene where he pops out of the water completely naked and shakes himself off like a dog and the old man who's waiting for him for Spy Reasons is like dude your dick is just swinging in the wind
I believe Preferential Treatment by Heather Guerre, one of my favorite billionaire books, has a hero with a big hairy chest. He's also a Russian billionaire who pays the heroine, who works lower level shit in his company, to be his domme! And if you're asking "But Caro, does she use a vibrating butt plug on him?" The answer is I'd be mad if she didn't. You have to wait for it, but yes.
Pretty sure that the hero of Eva Leigh's A Rogue's Rules for Seduction is hairy. And big. And upset about his horrible past which is why he has to get down on his knees and eat the heroine out until said knees bleed on the cobblestones.
I believe the hero of S.M. LaViolette's The Bastard has a plot important beard at one point because he has some pretty bad Glasgow Grin scars. My poor baby John. But the heroine helps him heal, etc etc.
EDIT:
Oh, preorder The Wedding Witch by Erin Sterling! It was a 4.5/5 for me and the hero is so hairy that his family jokes about him being a werewolf (he's not he's a witch)
Matilda Halifax Learns the Value of Restraint by Alexandra Vasti has a hero whose virile beard makes him look Villainous.
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smallsimmer · 1 year ago
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Hi! I've been a follower for awhile of you and Sara as I play TS3!
I started becoming a creator and learning to Convert 4to3 items in my game which has been so fun for me.
I tend to love a certain style that I can't find in most cc creators so I want to make my own eyes, skins, skin details/ tattoos etc. to make my sims.
To keep it short is there any tutorials you learned from on how to make skin and eyes and tattoos? Any tips you could give to help out someone who is trying to learn themselves and start a simblr?
Hello!! That is definitely why Sara and I started making stuff, it makes your sims feel more like your own characters when you can add the personalized touches yourself. Sara and I have been skin blending for a long time (around since 2016 I wanna say) and we're mostly self taught, I don't remember a lot of people wanting to share their skin blending techniques back in the day. The most I can do is to link you to here and browse through their tutorials they have shared. The other basic tips I can share is that Sara and I use the 3D mode in photoshop for all of our skins, you'll need to get .dae files to open in photoshop which you can find here, find a base skin, doesn't have to be terribly detailed just so you know where the eyelids, nose, and mouth should go as well as the ears. Make sure you make a new layer before pasting whatever details you want to add otherwise when you merge it down on the 3D side it'll go onto whichever layer you were on (then you gotta completely redo it and it's a pain in the ass). ALSO! You can use liquify to move stuff around better in the 3d mode, I use multiply when placing stuff first so I can line it up where it needs to go. I've also seen some skins where people haven't matched the scalp correctly or there's a line where the body and the head meet, my trade secret is to use the eyedrop tool and grab the color on the face dds then just paste it completely in the scalp and on the body I use a soft brush and drag it over the very top of the neck on the body dds. As for eyes and tattoos, eyes are definitely like making makeup in the regard that you can make them recolorable and they go in the makeup category so if you have any experience with that it's not too hard, just make sure if they're not recolorable to set the color in TSRW to white so they show up properly in game. Tattoos I always add directly to my sims skins, accessory tattoos look awful in game, they glare under the light and they're blurry, easier to just add them to the skin, for the body you can just paste them on in 2D but for face tats I recommend using the 3D mode instead because of warping, black tattoo with a white background I tend most of the time to set the layer to multiply and it looks fine.
For examples of tattoos warping:
You want the tattoo to be here so if we place it like so in the 2D mode it looks fine right?
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Wrong because it is going to look like this in game
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So instead paste it in 3D mode like so and then merge it down
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It'll look like this in the 2D mode but it's fine! It'll look correct in game!
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I was kinda spit balling but I hope this helps even a tiny tiny bit!
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arielhopepeace · 2 years ago
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Welcome to another Joel and y/n fic. One of these times I’d like to write one that has the breakout, because zombies have always really freaked me out lol.
Anyway, in this fic, Sarah is 9, and y/n is her 4th grade teacher. Obviously it gets GOOOOOOD later on hehe. This fic was an idea recommended by @viclgrd ❤️
As always, pleaaaase enjoy.
Part two is here
Part three is here
Part four is here
Final part is here
Part One
18+ only
Tw: mention of cancer, mention of death, panic attacks, anxiety
4,770 words
Joel POV
  "Sarah, come on!" I urge my very stubborn nine year old daughter.
There's nothing I love more in this world than her. She's a spitting image of my late wife, and she was honestly an easy, laid-back baby with a surprisingly calm toddler stage. Getting her to school is the only real issue I've faced with her.
Sarah loves to sleep. I've taken her to pediatricians with my concerns on why she loves to be in bed so much, but they assured me it's only due to her enjoyment of it, and the fact that she's constantly growing, making her more fatigued. Waking her up every morning before I have to go to work is difficult, and rather taxing. Luckily, I'm able to leave right after I walk her to her bus stop, always making it to work in the nick of time.
I'd like to say that I'm a good father to Sarah. My wife passed away when our daughter was only one, so Sarah doesn't have any memory of her. I've always wondered if that made it easier, never knowing her, but I've always been too terrified to ask how she feels. She's still so young that I don't want to fill her head with dark and agonizing subjects.
Of course I'll talk about her mother if she asks and explain that she passed away from cancer, but I never linger on her death with Sarah. I always do my best to turn it into a beautiful, light thing, hoping that she never develops that crippling anxiety in her sternum as I have.
"Daddy, why can't you ever take me to school?" Sarah whines as she holds my hand, both of us leaving the house.
"Because," I begin as I peer down at her, "I have to work, baby."
Her eyes twinkle up at me with their hazel hue, my lips twitching up as I admire her, completely enamored with my little girl.
"So many other kids at school have their parents visit them for lunch. Can you visit me one day?" her gaze becomes teary.
I crouch down once we're at our stop sign, giving her a kiss between her brows. "Hey," I say softly, "don't cry. I'll ask when I go in today if I can have lunch with you sometime soon, okay?"
Sarah nods with excitement, wrapping her little arms around my neck. "Thank you."
Her gentle embrace and the softness of her solemn voice tugs at my heart, making me want to just quit my job so I can stay here to hug her all day.
The bus pulls up, hissing to a stop as the doors sigh, opening with a slight squeak.
"Have a good day, baby," I kiss my fingertips, waving her off as she steps onto her bus, her head scarcely turning to give me a mildly forlorn smile.
Working in construction as I do, I'm never able to take my lunch at Sarah's school. Not only are our lunches at different times, but my jobs are usually over a half an hour away or more. It's a demanding and grueling occupation, but it pays well and allows us to live comfortably; not living paycheck-to-paycheck as we used to.
When my wife passed, I was utterly, wholly gutted. Within a month of us finding out she had cancer, she was gone. It was dreadful knowing she was in pain, knowing there was nothing I could do to help her, and watching her rapidly decline until she drew in her last weak, delicate breath on this earth.
I promised her I'd take care of Sarah, and raise her to be as incredible as she was. Every single fiber in me prays that I'm doing everything exactly as she would've wanted it.
Being alone for the last eight years hasn't been difficult for me by any means. I've gone on a few dates here and there, but never anything that has stuck with me. It's usually just one date and then it's over, never hearing from the woman again, or I never reach out.
Part of me enjoys the wilderness within where my heart lies dried up in the sun. There's no possible way I can ever be left or have my heart broken if I'm alone. I'd be perfectly content with never having a woman again; just me and Sarah until she's old enough to move out and get on with her own life. She may only be nine, but I think about her growing up every day, and how in another nine years, she'll be graduating high school.
Those thoughts always fill me with sheer, all-consuming panic, knowing that she'll be leaving one day, and I'd never prevent her from doing so. All I want is for her to be happy and live the picturesque life she deserves, and she can't do that if I'm already having empty nest syndrome before she's even in the double digits.
On the drive to work, my cell phone begins ringing through the Bluetooth of my truck. My heart stops when I see it’s Sarah’s school, immediately answering the call.
“Hello?” I try to keep my voice steady.
“Hello, Mr. Miller! This is Principal Sanders, and I’m just reaching out to all the parents of students in Mrs. Peters’ class to let them know that unfortunately she won’t be returning to school this year. She’s still out with a broken hip after her fall, and we’re afraid she won’t make a full recovery as soon as we anticipated.”
My pulse settles, relieved Sarah is okay. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I know Sarah loves her, so I’m sure she’ll be sad.”
“Aw, that’s very good to know! We’re having a welcoming party for the new teacher tomorrow at the park right across the street from the school. We thought we’d make it a special occasion to lift the student’s spirits a bit about Mrs. Peters. We’re just doing a little head count to see how much pizza we should order. This isn’t going to be school funded, it’s just some of the staff getting together to welcome her. Are you and Sarah interested in joining?”
I shrug as I keep my eyes fixed on the road. “Sure. I’d like to chip in if you’re accepting donations, or I could even bring some food myself.”
“That’s very nice of you, Mr. Miller. That would be a big help either way.”
“What time? It’s Saturday, so I don’t always work on those days.”
“It’ll be at one o’clock.”
I’ll just make sure I don’t pick up any overtime tomorrow. I usually always try to, just for the extra money, but it would be nice to take a day off and go to the park with Sarah.
“Okay. We’ll be there. I’ll bring two pizzas and maybe a tray of cookies.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Miller. That’s very appreciated. See you tomorrow.”
“Bye, Mrs. Sanders. See you tomorrow.”
We hang up, my lungs letting out a gentle sigh of relief. I’ve never gotten a random call from Sarah’s school like that except for when she’s sick, and I always seem to be assuming the absolute worst about everything. Truthfully, I think it’s the left over apprehension I feel from my wife’s passing.
***
“Hi, I have a pizza order under Joel,” I say as I look around the pizza shop, the teenager at the register sighing at me.
“Your total is twenty-five dollars even,” the boy replies flatly.
My fingers fish into my wallet, handing him cash as a woman comes up beside him and places my pizzas on the counter. The boy takes my money as I grip the pizzas in my hand, the warmth from the bottom of the box radiating through my palm.
The door to the pizza place dings its bell as I leave, making a b-line for my idling truck that has Sarah in the passenger seat with a tray of cookies on her lap.
“Here, let’s put these on the floor,” I say as I set the pizzas onto the ground beneath her. “Just don’t step on ‘em.”
“Foot pizza doesn’t sound good to me, dad,” she giggles, making me laugh with her. “I’m excited to see my friends!”
“Will Rachel be there today?”
She nods enthusiastically as we head toward the park. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be. Everyone was really excited about it yesterday in class. I know some people couldn’t get their parents to go, though.”
“Well, at least Rachel will be there,” I beam at her before turning my eyes back to the road in front of me.
“And us,” she replies fondly. “I didn’t think we’d be able to go. You always work on Saturdays.”
“I know, but I thought it would be nice to just hang out in the park with you for the day.”
“Thank you,” Sarah says softly. “I love you.”
“I love you too, honey.”
Pulling up to the park, I see several children and parents everywhere. It looks like her entire class has shown up, the thought of Sarah being able to see all her friends making me happy for her. I’m really glad I decided to not get that overtime in today. She deserves to have some fun.
Sarah carries the cookie tray as I carry the two pizzas, opting for just cheese and pepperoni. My eyes land on the principal, guiding Sarah towards her with my palm on her shoulder. She’s so ecstatic that she nearly ran away with the damn cookies.
“Hello, Mr. Miller. Sarah,” the principal says warmly. “You can set everything down here,” she gestures to a table.
“Hey, Sarah,” I hear from beside me. “Is this your dad?”
“Yep!” she replies. “This is my dad, Joel!”
After setting the pizza down, I turn with an outstretched hand, my breath being caught in my throat as I take in the appearance of Sarah’s new teacher. She’s absolutely stunning, and my god she looks young. Sarah’s last teacher was easily in her mid-sixties, but this one can’t even be thirty yet.
“Hi, Mr. Miller. I’m Sarah’s new teacher, Ms. Y/l/n, but you can call me y/n.” Her voice is feminine and light, making goosebumps trail across my skin as our palms connect.
“Please, call me Joel,” I reply with a quick lick of my lips.
Sarah toddles away, joining several of her classmates on the playground.
“I’ve only been teaching them for a day, but Sarah is the most well-behaved,” she leans in to whisper. “And no, I haven’t said that to every parent,” y/n giggles.
Her little laugh forces me to join her, my nose being caressed with the scent of her perfume from her standing so close to me.
“Well, I’m glad. She was the easiest child, really.”
“Do you have any others?” she asks, her eyes on mine, completely melting me.
I shift, doing my best to focus on the conversation rather than her effortless beauty. “No,” I smile. “Just her.”
“I’m an only child, too,” y/n grins, her eyes flitting over to the playground briefly before meeting my gaze again.
“I wasn’t lucky enough,” I tease, watching a laugh pass her delicate, rosy lips. “I have an older brother.”
“I always wished to have a sibling, but my parents were never successful when trying again.” Her voice fills with melancholy. “My mom had ovarian cancer, so it was pretty impossible to conceive after me. I was a miracle baby.”
My brows fit together, that familiar anxiety blooming in my chest at the mention of cancer. I place my hand on my sternum, as if I’m trying to catch that feeling and push it down.
“I’m sorry,” is all I can muster out to say. “My late wife passed away from cancer when Sarah was one.”
Why did I say that? I’ve never spoken about her to anyone other than family before, but for some reason, I felt the need to tell y/n.
Her hand reaches out and rests on my bicep. “I’m so sorry,” her gentle eyes soften even further. “My mom died when I was ten, and my father just passed away last year.”
“My god,” I respond with disbelief. “You’re way too young to have lost both of your parents already.”
Y/n’s eyes track to her hand that rests against my arm, quickly removing it as she clears her throat. “Oh, they were older when they had me, but still not old enough to pass away.”
“How old were they, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She smiles. “I don’t mind at all. My mom was only forty-six when she passed, and my dad was older, he was seventy-six.”
“They were a few years apart, then?”
“Sixteen,” y/n laughs awkwardly. “Everybody always finds that so strange, but they didn’t see how in love they were. I never saw them fight once.”
“That’s beautiful, y/n,” I smile warmly at her.
She blinks up at me, tucking her gorgeous hair behind her ear as her body shifts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get so depressing.”
“No,” I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “You didn’t. It’s life.”
Her lips spread with that breathtaking grin, my eyes all over her face before a voice rips me from my waking dreaming at her parted mouth.
“Hi, Ms. Y/l/n! This is my mom,” the little boy turns to his mother. “Can I go play now?”
The woman laughs, nodding.
The boy dashes away, joining the rest of the kids on the playground. My head bobs around a bit, looking for Sarah until I finally spot her, seeing her go down the slide with a vast grin on her face. I smile fondly at her, feeling guilty that I was so caught up in a conversation with her teacher, that I forgot to check on her.
Y/n and the mother of the little boy begin chatting, so I quietly make an exit, sitting down at one of the picnic tables with a full bottle of water in front of me.
My fingers twist the plastic top open, the crack of the seal popping as I press the bottle to my lips, tossing it back for a drink. I can’t help but gaze at y/n, taking in her figure with complete admiration. She’s wearing a yellow sundress that comes down to her knees, pairing it with a white cardigan over the straps. Her feet are donned in ivory flats that match the unnecessary cardigan she has on her arms.
It’s Texas, and it’s hot as hell out here. Maybe I’m being a bit of a pervert, though. Her skin is absolutely flawless in every sense of the word, and I just want to see more of it. I haven’t been this taken back by a woman since I first met my wife. That thought consumes my chest with guilt, a sharp pang internally piercing my abdomen.
My hand grips my stomach through my shirt, the tips of my fingers digging into the fabric. My wife had told me that she wants me to move on once she passes, and I’ve tried, but I haven’t found anybody. I haven’t even slept with anyone since her, only a few dates here and there that didn’t even end up with a kiss.
“Joel?” a voice interrupts my racing thoughts. “Are you okay?”
I look up to meet the eyes of y/n, soft and vast with concern. “Yes,” I answer quickly. “Just a little light headed. I think I need to eat.”
Her gaze loses a bit of its scrutiny. “Let me grab you some pizza or something. Do you have low blood sugar?”
I laugh. “No, I don’t.”
Y/n briefly leaves, returning with two slices of meat lover’s pizza on a paper plate. “You seem like a meat guy.”
“I am, actually,” a laugh pushes past my lips, my anxiety slowly easing away as I grab the plate of food, taking a bite. “Thank you.”
She sits adjacent from me, a piece of pizza in front of her as well. “You’re getting some color to your face again,” she chuckles.
“Did you really think I was so old that I had diabetes?”
Y/n laughs loudly, her head thrown back, exposing her kissable throat. “Diabetes isn’t always an old person thing, Joel. You could have type one, which you could be born with.”
“You didn’t really answer my question,” I tease.
Her cheeks flush with a hint of maroon, a satisfied smile spreading onto my own face. “No, I don’t think you’re old.”
“God, I feel it. I’ll be forty-one this year, Sarah will be ten. It’s crazy.”
“I’ll be twenty-five, and I’d like to complain about how I feel old, but I feel like you’d just judge me,” she beams vastly.
“I’d never judge you,” I say gently. “I was the most scared of turning thirty, though. It was like I should’ve been planning my retirement already.”
Y/n laughs heartily. “That’s how I feel now. I only just finished college a year ago, and I’m already a teacher. When will I need to plan my retirement?”
I chuckle. “Not for a long time.” My eyes flick between hers, “What made you want to be a teacher?”
A fond smile parts her lips. “My mom was a fourth grade teacher, and I wanted to be just like her.”
“She’d be proud of you,” I say before even thinking. “Sorry,” I instantly apologize, shaking my head. “It just came out.”
“No,” she beams wide. “Don’t apologize. You’re very kind, Joel.”
“Hey, there you are,” a deep voice echoes throughout the shaded gazebo.
An attractive, tall man saunters over to y/n, giving her a quick peck on the cheek that she awkwardly leans towards him for.
“Oh, hi. Joel, this is my fiancé, Sam. Sam, this is one of my student’s parents, Joel,” y/n says with her delicate voice that reminds me of wispy summer clouds.
“Nice to meet you,” Sam nods as he shakes my hand, sitting down beside y/n.
I can’t help but feel disappointed by the fact that she isn’t single, not like I had a chance anyway. Her fiancé does seem to be older though, appearing closer to my age than to hers. He has brown hair with a red tint to it, and bright blue eyes that pin you into place. It’s not hard to miss his light Scottish accent, or his incredibly toned physique. If this is her type, I definitely never had a chance.
“Oh, fiancé,” I say nonchalantly. “Congratulations.”
Y/n shifts as Sam wraps his arm around her shoulders, placing a kiss against her temple. “Thank you,” she says, but not without a hint of disdain in her tone.
“I’ve been trying to urge her to start planning the wedding, but it’s been a year since I proposed and still nothing,” he says humorously.
“And I’ve been focusing on my career,” y/n replies sharply, but with a clear faux smile on her face. “So, I haven’t had time for much else.”
“Hire someone,” Sam says through gritted teeth. “It isn’t difficult, darling.”
My head moves around the incredibly uncomfortable situation in front of me, spotting Sarah on the swings beside Rachel. Part of me wishes there was some sort of excuse I could use to leave this picnic table, but I’m afraid I’m glued here against my will.
“Ms. Y/l/n?” a student comes up beside her, “I brought these for you.” The girl hands her a bouquet of flowers, y/n’s entire face lighting up.
“Oh, my goodness, Felicity! Thank you so much!” She places her nose against one of the roses. “I love roses. They’re my favorite.”
The girl bashfully giggles as she walks away, the mother coming up to speak to y/n.
“She insisted on getting you flowers,” the mother gushes with enthusiasm. “I’m happy to see the kids love you so much after your first day. Clearly you’re a wonderful replacement.”
“Oh, thank you so much. I didn’t feel like I did anything special, but I’m glad they like me. They’re all so amazing.”
The mom smiles fondly as she walks away towards the pizza table, grabbing herself some food.
I honestly feel guilty that we didn’t bring anything specifically for y/n. The thought didn’t even cross my mind, and now I know I have to make up for it. Perhaps I could send Sarah to school on Monday with something special for her. Would that come off as creepy, though? That’s the last thing I want to do, is freak her out.
Sam stands up and walks away, adding some fruit onto a plate from one of the platters.
“I’m really sorry you had to witness that,” y/n says quietly. “I specifically asked him not to come.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I understand,” I smile politely. “He seems like a nice guy.”
Her eyes wander over to him, a forlorn expression spreading onto her perfect face. “Yeah.”
I catch a glimpse of Sarah running past me, completely sweaty as she dives her arm into the cooler to fish out a bottle of water for herself. Her eyes meet mine and she gives me an excited wave as she chugs her drink. I wave back with a small laugh, watching as she tosses the empty bottle out and runs back to the playground with her friends.
“She adores you,” y/n says softly. “Everybody introduced themselves in class yesterday, and she talked about you.”
A warmth spreads in my chest. “Really? What did she say?”
“She just said that your name is Joel, you work in construction, and that you’re the best dad in the world.”
My cheeks ache as I smile, laughing slightly. “I love that kid so damn much.”
“I can tell,” y/n replies with a vast grin. “She’s a lucky girl.”
“Please, I’m the lucky one. When I told you she was an easy kid, I meant it. I’ve had to raise her alone for the last eight years, and it’s almost like she knew I was a single parent. She never made anything difficult for me,” I laugh, “well, until recently. Her growth spurts have made her so tired and now it’s almost impossible to get her out of bed for school.”
Y/n laughs, the sound being music to my ears. “Oh, god, I don’t blame her. I’m the same way and I’m done growing.”
Our laughter mixes together, being cut off by Sam’s sudden presence again. He plops down his plate of fruit, only having one piece of pizza beside it.
“Did I miss something?” he asks with an arched brow and a grin.
“No,” y/n shakes her head. “Just saying it’s hard to get me out of bed in the morning.”
“Oh, I have my ways,” he says suggestively.
My brows raise as I shift uncomfortably on the bench.
Y/n slaps his arm as she scowls at him. “Jesus, Sam, this is my job. There’s kids here, can you please be quiet?”
“Oh, come on, they’re all the way over there. They can’t hear me.”
“The parents can,” she continues to scold. “Please.”
“Only Joel can hear me, and I don’t think he minds,” Sam looks pointedly at me.
“Oh,” I flick my eyes between them. “No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“See?” he beams. “Relax, darling. This new job has you all uptight.”
Y/n crosses her arms, looking anywhere but at the man beside her. It’s honestly making me uneasy to be around them any longer, so I decide to stand, excusing myself to use the bathroom.
As the sun greets my skin, I let out a sigh of relief, a million different thoughts running through my mind right now. Almost all of them are focused on y/n, wondering if I’ll ever see her again in person after today. What possible excuse could there be for me seeing her? She’s Sarah’s teacher, and there’s no logical, normal way to see her outside of school unless I asked her out, but she’s already with somebody.
It’s hard to hide my disappointment at that fact, but truthfully I think she’s out of my league, even if she apparently is interested in older men. Sam and I are polar opposites in all the worst ways. He’s toned and ripped with colored eyes and hair, while I have the softened dad bod with shaggy hair that’s dark brown mixed with a bit of gray, and normal, non-alluring brown eyes. If there were ever a man to compete against for a woman’s affection, it isn’t him. He would win every single time.
I’ve never gone for a woman who’s more than five years younger than me, and y/n is sixteen years younger than me. I’m reminded of the story she told about her parents, and the fact that they were sixteen years apart. She spoke so fondly of them, that clearly she would never have an issue with being someone my age.
God, who am I kidding? She’s engaged and far too stunning for me. I need to quit my daydreaming now before I end up in a fictional spiral about a woman I barely know.
As I leave the humid bathroom, I see Sarah over at the playground, running around in the sand barefoot with Rachel and another girl chasing her. I make my way over, placing my hands on my hips as I watch her sprint away.
“Playing tag?” I ask, Sarah not even looking at me for a second.
“Yep!” she answers quickly. “Don’t distract me!”
Laughing, I walk away, heading towards the table that I’m dreading to sit at again. To my relief, y/n is alone, gazing down in her lap as I sit across from her again.
“Where’s Sam?” I ask her, looking around.
“Oh,” her eyes meet mine, “he’s on a call for work.”
“What does he do?”
“Physical therapy,” she shrugs. “Boring.”
I laugh. “Not nearly as boring as construction.”
“Please,” she scoffs, “I’d much rather hear your work stories than his, I’m sure. He just tells me how he gropes women all day,” y/n laughs.
“Professionally gropes,” I jokingly correct her, resulting in an effortless giggle. “At the end of the day, he comes home smelling a lot better than me, I promise you.”
She chuckles, gazing at me. “Thank you for talking to me so much, Joel. I was nervous I’d be lonely at this thing.”
“You’re very easy to talk to, y/n, you don’t have to thank me.”
There’s a moment where we sit silently, just looking at each other, and I’m wondering if she feels the same spark between us as I do.
“Okay,” Sam’s voice causes me to jump slightly, “sorry about that, I was just answering a client’s questions about what exercises they can do at home.”
I nod. “No worries. Physical therapy sounds like an interesting job,” I smile, y/n giving me a dramatic eye roll.
“Thank you!” he answers loudly, looking over to y/n. “See? I told you it’s not boring.
There’s a light thump beside me on the picnic table, seeing a sweaty, panting Sarah beside me. “Daddy, I’m tired. Can we leave?”
I chuckle, nodding. “We can leave whenever you want.”
“It’s too hot out.”
“Then we can leave.”
Sarah smiles up at me, turning to look at Sam and y/n. “Who are you?” she asks curiously.
“I’m Sam, Ms. Y/l/n’s fiancé.”
“Fiancé?” Sarah looks to me. “That’s before marriage, right?”
I laugh, nodding. “Yes.”
“Well, that’s good. She’s a very nice lady.”
Y/n laughs, shaking her head. “Thank you, Sarah.”
I stand off the bench, Sarah standing with me. “It was lovely meeting you, y/n. And Sam,” I nod.
Y/n stands, shaking my hand. “Thank you for coming, Joel, and for staying to talk for so long.”
“Of course,” I smile. “Have a good rest of your day.”
“You too.”
Sarah and I walk back to the truck, my mind reeling with everything y/n and I spoke about. I’ve decided that there’s nothing stopping me from seeing that beautiful woman again, even if I have to call off work just to stop by the school. I’ve been meaning to just to spend lunch with Sarah, anyway, and now I can see her and y/n at the same time.
I need to see her again.
****
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opinated-user · 9 months ago
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To add to that anon's post yesterday about her subscriber number, why do you think Lily keeps GAINING subscribers, specifically? Does it have to do with the drama she keeps spitting out about her Steven Universe videos / content?
Because, honestly, no matter what she says, that is one of the biggest reasons she got popular to begin with. Without it, she wouldn't have half the success she does on YouTube.
It can't have anything to do with her current content, because I checked it out, and it's not that good or impactful. The numbers on the videos are incredibly low compared to what they used to be ( despite her sending herself anons saying how great she's doing), and they are a lot more messy and unstructured.
That, combined with all the horrible things she's been outed for over the past several years, I can't understand why she's not kicked off YouTube, let alone has people keep subscribing to her.
Maybe this is me overthinking it, but you don't think she makes YouTube accounts and subscribes to herself, do you? Or has her fans friends do that for her?
I can't imagine somebody who would make thousands of fake accounts just to subscribe to themselves, but then again, this is the same woman who had time on her hands to sit down and write a thread of 100 tweets about cartoon opinions, so.. it might not be impossible??
Wouldn't really surprise me, since, again, she very obviously sends anons to herself all the time pretending to be her ' stalkers '.
If these things aren't the case, I really don't understand why people are hitting the subscribe button.
What do you think?
technically speaking LO wrote her cartoon opinions in threads twice, so it was 200 tweets. the second time was a lot less funny because LO tried to make it a joke.
but no, i don't think that she made herself all those accounts. some of them, maybe, but i believe first that a bunch of people liked one video from her, subscribed, and then never bothered to keep up with her content so they never unsubbed. LO doesn't post viral content that pops for them or gets recommended so they never have a reason to remember either.
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ratcandy · 11 months ago
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do you have tips for writing eloquently?
I have started and scrapped and rewritten this post so many times because my confidence level is not working with me here sdhgkJSDGH
Well! Um! To be bluntly honest, I only write Zote's dialogue like that (assuming that is where this question stems from) because I read and reread his dialogue again and again over the course of a year back when I was writing CoGR!,,,
And then once you write like that for a year straight, it sort of becomes second nature to you hdgKHSKH
So if you've got a muse that you'd like to reference the word choice of, honestly, drenching yourself in their speaking mannerisms for a while can help you pick up on the subtleties of how they talk pretty well! Like genuinely! Just sit down and listen to fancy old english for a while, if that's what you're going for. Listen to it for hours and pick apart how things are said and why.
But um! Aside from that, the one big point of advice I can give is to not make it sound forced. The point of eloquence is that it's supposed to flow and feel natural. You can use as many fancy words and syntax as you want, but if it feels stilted and strange, the effect will be lost.
When it comes to the Big Fancy Words, so long as you're using them properly and not over-using them to the point of sounding pretentious (unless that is in-character), you should be fine! I would think, anyway!! I abuse the hell out of wordhippo to get my fancy words, for example. But I try not to fancy word too much, and I make sure those words make sense in how they're used and where. Because the last thing you want is for it to be super obvious you're taking from a thesaurus as you go.
Also, of course, a good rule of thumb: I double/triple-check every word I use to ensure I'm using it properly, even if I'm 99% certain I am. Because otherwise you look Real Silly for it. Check how it's supposed to be put into a sentence. Check the definition. Check alternate definitions to make sure you don't accidentally say something you don't mean!
(This is how I found out that saying "in of itself" is wrong, and it's actually "in and of itself." Which is fucked up and evil, yes, but grammar is bitchy and horrible! Something else I recommend coming to terms with if you're gonna abuse that grammar to sound prettier hgkjH)
I find the best way to check that something sounds natural is to read it out loud yourself. Can you follow along with what you're saying, or do you keep finding yourself tripping over the wording? If you have to read a sentence ten times before it sounds comprehensible, it might be time to modify that sentence a little hdgkJH
And if just reading it aloud doesn't help, try recording yourself reading it aloud. Then listen to yourself and see if it makes sense. A trick I found online to check for grammar/spelling mistakes is if you're using something like Microsoft Word, there's a "Read Aloud" option under the Review tab in which it will read what you've written back to you. You'll notice if something sounds funky pretty quickly when a text-to-speech is reading it ghkjshSDG
[Another quick tip: Rationalize how eloquent you want a scene described/dialogue spoken, and think about whether it fits. Or if it would sound better less eloquent. Genuinely, sometimes a character spitting out "fuck you" has a much harder hit than a long spiteful monologue! Especially if that character has been nothing but eloquent up until that point!]
Otherwise, um. Well! It really is just a lot of practicing. Which is the worst advice ever yes I know, but most people can't fling themselves effortlessly into writing immaculate prose. Which. I AM NOt clAIMING I DO. FOR ONE. Just putting that out there!! It takes getting the hang of. It takes noticing where you slip up and noting how to fix it. It takes a lot of reading other stuff/listening to how people talk to get a grasp on it.
At least For Me. That is what I Do. And I am just Sitting Here. I started CoGR when I was 16,
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quicksilverdrabbles · 2 years ago
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To embrace your blood, and give you your voice (2)
Morana: *panting, watching as the dragon finally falls while bits of its flesh begin burning and flaking into the air* What..?
Mirmulnir: Dovahkiin?!
Kaidan: Dovahkiin??
*the dragon falls dead, its eyes focused on Morana as its soul is ripped from its body in multicolored streaks and absorbed by the plague doctor. Streams of yellow light bind themselves around her neck before disappearing*
Morana: ...???
Whiterun Guard: Dragonborn..
Lucien: E-hexcuse me, what?
Whiterun Guard: Ancient dragonslayers.. They could kill a dragon by stealing their very souls.. That's what you just did, right?
Morana: I don't know. It's certainly never happened to me before.
Kaidan: Take a moment to calm yourself, your handwriting's shaking.
Whiterun Guard (2): Eh? Are you sure she of all people is the Dragonborn? Dragonborns are supposed to be able to Shout.
Whiterun Guard: Oh, you're right.. That would be a problem, wouldn't it. A Dragonborn that can absorb souls but not Shout. It's.. kind of funny, in an ironic way.
Inigo: I would recommend you do not speak about this situation being humorous unless you want to lose your tongue.
Whiterun Guard: Huh? And what are you gonna do about it, huh cat? You would really threaten the guard?
Inigo: I will make good on my threats to you and every other person in Skyrim if you continue to insult my friend like that.
Morana: Blu.. Please stop..
Ingio: ... Grr.. You are lucky this time.
Whiterun Guard (2): Can you really blame us, though? She can absorb souls, but without The Voice, is she really Dragonborn?
Kaidan: You shut your fucking mouth right now.
Morana: *tries to write in her journal. Her hands shake, and she drops her pencil. Kaidan won't understand if she signs* ... P-Please stop..
Whiterun Guard: If you people are so eager to defend her, then let her prove she's Dragonborn. Shout for us.
Taliesin: *glaring, dagger drawn* She doesn't have to do anything for you lowlives.
Morana: F-Fus.. *Her breath comes out like a gust of wind, noticeable, but quiet and ultimately powerless*
Whiterun Guard: Ha! Was that your attempt at a Shout?
Xelzaz: Morana-
Morana: F-F-Fus- *coughs, reaching a hand to her throat*
Lucien: Morana! *runs to catch her as she kneels to the ground* Don't force it, please. You don't have to prove anything to these people!
Morana: *trembling* I-I know the word. I can hear it in my mind.. I just- I can't-
Lucien: You're only going to hurt yourself, though!
Morana: Why the hell are people only ever concerned about me getting hurt?? Why am I unable to do things without having to worry about how much it would affect me? Why can't I do this?!
Lucien: Because we care about you-
Morana: You shouldn't! With the way things are going, I'll be dead before the year ends anyways!
Inigo: ... What?
Morana: You shouldn't put a dying woman's wellbeing over your own! You shouldn't have to make accomodations for my weakness! I- *sobs* I don't want that! I don't need it!
Dovahkiin..
Morana: *stands up, pulling away from Lucien* Just once, I want to be able to put my pains aside and do things without suffering! Just once, I don't want to be a liability!
I will lend you my voice, Thuri..
Morana: Just once, I want to be able to aid you all instead of forcing you to worry about someone who should have died years ago! Just this once- even if it's only once- I.. I don't want to be weak anymore!
Whiterun Guard (2): Hey, is she actually saying something right now?
Whiterun Guard: I dunno. Can't hear her, haha.
Morana: SHUT UP!
Whiterun Guard: ?! Shit, she actually spoke-
Lucien: She's been speaking this whole time, you idiots!
Kaidan: Morana..?
Morana: SHUT UP!! SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP- FUS! *the shout leaves her throat in a much deeper pitch, hoarse and growling, almost like an actual dragon's cry. It knocks the two guards off of their feet.*
Whiterun Guard (2): Gods above- let's get out of here!
Morana: *falls to her knees, coughing and spitting up blood*
Kaidan: Morana! *crouches down, trying to wipe at the blood soaking her mask*
Taliesin: *kneeling next to her* Gods- Hey, come on, let me see.
Morana: *shakes her head*
Taliesin: Don't be stubborn, they're already gone. I need to see how badly you're bleeding.
Morana: *shakes her head again. She tries to speak, but only wordless rasping comes from her throat*
Xelzaz: How much damage did that Shout do??
Mirmulnir: *a spectre of the dragon rises from its bones* It was not The Voice that injured her.
Kaidan: Oh for fuck's sake, not you again. We killed you.
Mirmulnir: And so I have recognized the power within the Dovahkiin. A dovah without a voice is, mm.. Aan dilon dovah. A dead one. And so, to counter her.. nahlot Thu'um, her voice which has been silenced. She absorbed my voice, as well as dii sil, my soul.
Lucien: How is that even possible?
Mirmulnir: Mm.. Many things about this one are.. folaas. Things that should not be. It is only right that they are.. righted.
Inigo: So.. You are a good dragon now?
Mirmulnir: My voice will remain in the Dovahkiin's possession. However, this form is quickly.. fading. It is possible this will be the last I will ever speak, of my own accord.
Xelzaz: Oh. Well, thank you? For giving her your Voice.
Mirmulnir: It was not my choice.
Xelzaz: ... Right.
Kaidan: Er, hello? Can we maybe focus on the fact that Morana's spouting blood from her throat?
Taliesin: *removed Morana's mask, wiping at the blood properly with a cloth* We need to get you to Danica. We'll have her meet us outside the Temple, don't worry.
Kaidan: Up we get. *lifts Morana with ease, ignoring her silent struggling* Need to cover her face for her before we go back to town. That mask won't do until it's clean.
Taliesin: Use this. It's a veil we got for her a while ago.
Kaidan: I don't even want to ask where you got that thing. Fine.
Xelzaz: Here, let me at least give her a potion to try and stop her bleeding-
Inigo and Lucien: *trailing behind the group*
Lucien: ... Do you think we should tell them?
Inigo: ... Perhaps not. I do not think anybody else heard what we did, not clearly.
Lucien: They have a right to know, I think. If what she said is true..
Inigo: If she told us, she will probably tell them sometime after. Still..
Lucien: Do you think there's anything we could do?
Inigo: ... I do not know.
~
Inside the Bannered Mare
Danica: *sitting next to Morana on a bed in the private room* Gods, you've really done it this time, Morana. What on earth did you do to injure your vocal chords like this??
Morana: ... I got angry. And yelled. Tried to.
Danica: *sighs* Well, you won't be able to speak at all for the next few weeks. Not even whisper.
Morana: Damn. Thank you for your help, anyway.
Danica: Don't mention it. Although I would like if you would come for a check-up every now and then. It seems like your health declines more and more every time I see you.
Morana: ... It's nothing to worry about. I would rather you don't waste your time. You still have so many patients.
Danica: Right. Well, I'll go let your friends know you've been healed the best you can be. They'll be in in a moment.
Morana: Thank you.
Danica: *stands and leaves, clicking the door shut behind her*
...
Morana: *raises a hand to her face, catching a tear that fell* (No matter how I tried... I was still weak.)
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sailorblossoms-snowbaz · 2 years ago
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Not to be a downer, I'm minding my business when the recommended posts in tumblr dot com shows me this stuff (this is a vent blog) (sort of) but seeing Simon being paired with Alex from RWRB as fellow bisexuals instantly activates my fight or flight instinct. I get wanting representation, but... you have an explicitly bisexual character who goes through an arc to embrace that identity, you have him explicitly telling you, directly and indirectly, that he has had Bisexual Feelings and so this label fits him best, and then you have Simon Snow. A character whose instinct is to be put off by being considered bi, who upon serious consideration of what bisexuality means, gives valid reasons to say no. Can't speak for everyone but as a bi person this... kinda annoys me (his reaction alone is enough for me to never want to call him bi again haha)
I've said this before with more words and more politely than this, but what gets me is that reading Simon as bi requires you to straight up ignore (or miss) half of what he tells you. Not one to be against multiple readings and interpretations, but this right here requires missing or ignoring context and words and timing and comparisons and the way entire scenes are constructed. To a certain extent I can kinda see how a casual reader might read CO alone and assume (emphasis on assume) Simon must've liked Agatha like that at the beginning (romantically, sexually) if he even dated her in the first place, but after reading the whole trilogy? (I also don't think these books are fully appreciated if you read them casually, I get new things with each new read! but I understand some of us prefer to be normal about media. Not me though!). After spending so much time thinking about Simon and Agatha and all the things they communicate and the ways they say it (easy examples: they both choose the most unromantic, uncomfortable and/or mechanical, and sometimes honestly kinda gross ways to describe physical closeness to each other, like "spit that tastes different from your own" as the only thing it's said about kissing, or "sweat that makes skin stick all together and dampen t-shirts" instead of saying they were ~embracing each other~ or some shit. It's dry and undesirable – nothing romantic or sexual is coloring these descriptions, and they are different from, for example, Simon thinking Baz smells bad but "wild horses couldn't drag him away from him," or Baz thinking that Simon's morning breath stinks but he doesn't mind because it's Simon).
I used to not mind bi Simon headcanons, but nowadays it simply activates my fight or flight, because I can no longer help but see bi Simon as synonymous with the belief that he was sexually attracted to Agatha, and that to me is a "yikes," a "fuck no" and perhaps even a "what are we even doing here, this was addressed, we can read." Again, I can only speak for myself: anything involving those two to say "bisexuality" is simply a no from me. I don't want these, thank you. (Although I have never seen Agatha being hc as bi, she's always either in the ace spectrum or a lesbian, and to those I raise: these characters are mirrors). The other examples of just missing or ignoring half of what Simon says: the ren faire. Simon says he's "not mad about seeing cleavage" and that has been used to say dude is a woman liker. But that ignores how he says just in the previous sentence, while looking at boobs "I still haven't figured out what my deal is, but is in this moment, while I'm looking at boobs, that I consider that if I was ever attracted to women, those days might be over. [Still looking at boobs] perhaps I never liked women in the first place, perhaps I'm a Baz-sexual, which means I'm considering in this moment, while I'm [I cannot stress this enough] still looking at boobs, that I might only experience sexual attraction towards Baz." Call me crazy, but as a boobie-liker, the idea of a dude looking at boobs and thinking about how "perhaps he's no longer or maybe never was into women in the first place, maybe he's just into this one guy" is not the thought process of someone who's actually into boobs. I actually wrote a post about the ways boobs are portrayed in the ren faire somewhere, and Simon spends the whole time not noticing boobs that are in his fucking face, with writing choices like him going a little green at the same time that boobs are almost in contact with his person, and how he is thinking this with boobs that he sees at a comfortable distance. He's cool with cleavage, but he's not interested like that, especially because he never fucking notices outside of this particular place where is impossible not to, and even then he doesn't even notice when they're in his face! (Compare that with how Baz showing chest goes with "good enough to eat" which is indicative of wanting to do something about it, of a reaction linked to hunger). Or how, and I've said this many times, his "inanimate objects are attracted to Agatha" is some good ol' overcompensation, it comes in a moment where he's bullshitting (he tells Baz he doesn't like him; he was thinking just how much he likes him like 20 minutes or so before this conversation) to avoid processing, and how he's telling on his ass by using things that do not experience emotions or have the ability to choose in this example (the was no processing or feelings with Agatha)
In short: good ol' Simon is not bi, and saying the girl is cute or that he's cool with cleavage doesn't really contradict that. A gay person could say that. Baz notices beautiful and gorgeous girls, and it doesn't mean shit other than he has eyes. (I'm not accusing anyone of this, and I haven't seen anything that gives me this impression, but thinking about it, I also kinda resent the implication that being cool with women showing skin can only mean horniness. Surely we can be cool with showing skin regardless of whether or not we want to fuck) Fandom spaces putting Simon in "bi characters" lists is... whatever I guess, but since he's canonically unlabeled, honestly? it can be a disservice to the series. Recommending this as "has a bi character as the main" is misleading! You're setting this up for people walking away from it pissed! I've actually seen people tearing this appart because they are approaching it with certain expectations (and maybe also just not really paying attention to details) instead of engaging with it on its own terms. I mean, imagine being recommended something or being led to believe "it has bi rep" and then when the word actually comes up the character is like "whaaaa? hell no, take it away!" Probably wouldn't react too positively to that one, would you
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greatwyrmgold · 1 year ago
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Another fanfiction pet peeve: Pointless synechdoche. I'm using "synechdoche" slightly wrong, so I should explain what I mean. I'm talking about when a fanfic author wants to refer to a character (herein referred to as the "subject"), but doesn't want to use the subject's name or third-person pronoun, and instead uses a noun or adjective referring to some aspect of the subject. For instance, Superman might be referred to as "the alien," "the paragon," or "the red-caped man". Hair color is a particularly common, for some reason.
Now, this isn't always a bad thing to do! I'm going to start by describing some ways it can be used well.
Obviously, if there's a distinct POV character who doesn't know/recognize the subject, they need to use synechdoche. They need to describe the subject based on their appearance or behavior, because that's all the POV character knows. It puts distance between the narrator and the subject.
Synechdoche can also emphasize certain aspects of a subject. This can be exclusively for the benefit of the audience, e.g. to remind them of some relevant fact, or to emphasize the irony of a line ("Earth is my home," said the alien.) Stories with a distinct POV character can also be used to characterize the narrator. What does it say about your narrator if he repeatedly refers to one of the people he's talking with as "the hot one"?
And of course, these purposes can be tweaked or combined. Language is flexible, and so is literature. But the human brain cannot automatically parse what any given synechdoche is trying to do; it just parses the words it reads and spits out some meaning.
Whenever you use synechdoche, you are characterizing the narrator, you are emphasizing certain aspects of the subject, and you are putting distance between narrator and subject. If that's what you're trying to do, great! If not, you might have a problem.
Emphasizing an irrelevant facet of a subject isn't incorrect in the way that referring to Superman as "the blonde" would be, but it can easily be distracting, the same way any irrelevant information in the middle of a dialogue scene would be. Careless use of synechdoche can imply things about the narrator that just aren't true. And of course, using synechdoche at all puts distance between the narrator and the subject, which is weird if the narrator is supposed to be close to the subject and even weirder if the narrator doesn't exist because the fic has third-person omniscient narration. And that's if you pick decent synechdoche and not, like, "the Big Blue Boy Scout said," which is only slightly more awkward than some actual synechdoche I've seen used recently.
Writing Advice
I know why people use synechdoche. It's generally best to avoid repeating a word too much in short order, and it's easy to repeat subject names or pronouns a lot during a dialogue scene.
However:
I think people worry too much about repetition. Avoid it if you can, but if you can't, don't worry.
Synechdoche always puts distance between narrator and subject. This is a good thing in some cases, but frequently counterproductive.
Synechdoche usually implies something about the narrator. This is a good thing if you're implying that on purpose, but not so much if you're just picking a character trait so you don't have to say "Clark" again.
Synechdoche suggests that the subject trait being referenced is somehow significant to the scene. If it's not, synechdoche wastes audience time recognizing that insignificance, and can mislead your audience if you pick your synechdoche very poorly.
Synechdoche is frequently awkward, especially when you need to come up with several ways to refer to the same subject in one conversation.
I think people worry too much about repetition. Avoid it if you can, but if you can't, don't worry.
But as an alternate suggestion, I would recommend trying to write dialogue which your audience can follow with few or no dialogue tags. This is easiest when your conversations only involve two characters, since you can assume alternating lines are said by different characters. (Though the audience might get things turned around after a dozen consecutive lines if you're not careful.)
I would also recommend giving each of your characters a distinctive voice. Sometimes this is something overt, like a literary dialect or verbal tic; sometimes it's a collection of little details like word choice, tone, ideas expressed, and so on.
Another possibility: Try structuring dialogue differently, and maybe add a little non-dialogue action into dialogue sequences. Word repetition isn't nearly as bad without structure repetition. Compare:
Superman said, "Stop, villain! I cannot allow you to continue your wicked ways!" Dr. Doom replied, "No, you should stop and let me finish this plan. I worked so hard on it!" Clark snarled, "No matter how hard you worked, I won't let you take that dragon ball!" Dr. Doom shot him.
To:
Superman said, "Stop, villain! I cannot allow you to continue your wicked ways!" "No," Dr. Doom replied, "you should stop and let me finish this plan. I worked so hard on it!" Superman put his fists on his hips. "No matter how hard you worked, I won't let you take that dragon ball!" Dr. Doom shot him. Again.
See? Just by changing where you put what, you can make the scene feel less repetitive. The difference is slight in this example text, but across a dialogue-heavy chapter, this kind of variation adds up.
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