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#it doesn't have to be watered down or sanitized
armoralor · 1 year
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please know that anytime I see you complain about toxic sapphic ships I will make them even more toxic. I want them covered in each other's blood and snarling. I want them filled with rage and hate, seconds away from killing the other. Give me the most toxic fucked up women that make each other worse.
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important edit!
UPDATE 9/4/2024: we will be closing down the old campaign because mohamed was having issues with the guy hosting it. i'm hosting a new campaign which i am linking below. THIS IS THE UPDATED LINK.
(this is a verified campaign and is 192 on the vetted fundraiser sheet)
mohammed @save-mohamed-family has been trying to raise money to save his family for a while on tumblr, and he raised a significant amount of money but the bank his beneficiary was using abruptly shut his account down and he lost all his progress. a lot of banks and money services have been arbitrarily freezing or shutting down the money palestinians are raising to survive this genocide, which is just an additional injustice for people already suffering so much. mohammed has since opened a new gofundme but its made very little progress.
please donate to this campaign– especially if youve donated in the past because gofundme will have refunded you
mohammed already lost his mother, father, and four sisters in the war who were killed in a bombing, and is now living in tents with his remaining family members. he was seriously injured in his foot and it may need to be amputated, but he told me that hes doesn't care if he loses his foot, he just doesn't want to lose his wife and children. his wife has uterine cancer but hasn't been able to get treatment because the genocidal israeli army has destroyed health centers. his children are suffering from infectious diseases spreading throughout gaza. there is practically no medical treatment or medicine available in gaza and the massacres continue everyday. food and water is scarce and priced exorbitantly. mohammed has made posts on his blog about their situation and i do encourage you to read his own words too.
please dont be desensitized to this just because it's been going on for so long. put yourself in his shoes and think about how you would feel– after nearly a year of the most destructive bombing campaign in history, living in hunger and pain every second with no home, no running water, no sanitation, not having a moment of security, subject to arbitrary decisions from an occupying force. no one should have to live like this.
the pain of losing so many family members, your home, your job, and everything you have is already unimaginable. please dont let him lose any more of his family. donate to this campaign and if you cant, share it with someone who can.
especially if you have a degree of disposable income i implore you to think about what you can reasonably give. it could be relatively small adjustment for you but make a significant difference for someone else.
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chronicbitchsyndrome · 2 months
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so... i'm seeing a lot of activism (like, actual activism, not just tumblr posts--letters & scripts to us senators, for example, copy written for press, etc) focusing on improving ventilation & filtration as primarily an access issue for immunocompromised people. basically, presenting the argument as "this is in service of this demographic, who is blocked from public access currently."
this is like. true. of course. it is the main reason i want clean air and i think it is the most pressing reason overall for it. but i think it's the wrong tack for building a clean air movement and getting legislation passed.
like, unfortunately, the vast majority of people in power--and of americans in general, tbh--are not immunocompromised and do not have immunocompromised roommates or family members. should you have to have this experience to understand that public access is a big fucking deal for, like, staying alive? no! you shouldn't! but most people straight up will not understand whatsoever unless they have personal experience with immune compromisation.
trying to change hearts and minds to have cognitive sympathy for disabled people takes a long time, decades' worth of work to just change a handful of people; meanwhile, getting legislation passed is 1) imminently important, 2) while still a lengthy process, takes significantly less time if it doesn't hinge on first converting the majority of the population to have sympathy for a marginalized demographic they have no contact with (and yes, they have no contact with us because we are barred from public access to begin with, again, i am aware of how fucked up this is).
here's some arguments for passing clean air legislation that are designed to appeal to a normative, conservative-leaning crowd:
air filtration is a public health and sanitation baseline just like running water. we provide clean water to drink and wash our hands in as a baseline for public life; we should also be providing clean air to breathe similarly.
improved ventilation and filtration in schools results in less sick days for students, meaning better attendance and less time off work for parents.
improved ventilation and filtration in the workplace results in workers taking less sick days. it also makes it less troublesome when a coworker comes in sick; it's less likely you will have to take sick leave as a result.
improved ventilation and filtration in hospitals, doctors' offices, etc, helps combat the health care worker shortage by reducing the amount of sick leave health care workers need. it additionally makes hospitals safer overall; for example, it makes it safer for cancer patients to be in the same building with patients with highly infectious airborne illnesses such as chickenpox.
improved ventilation and filtration in public buildings at large could improve the economy, as less workers stay home, more people enter the workforce, more people begin attending public businesses like bars and venues, etc.
if government programs to upgrade ventilation and filtration are created, this could create jobs for blue-collar workers, further improving the economy.
the last note i have is that, as much as this sucks shit, don't mention covid as much as you can avoid it. covid has become a massive culture war thing in the usa and as soon as you bring it up, the entire discussion becomes about virtue-signaling and showing in-group affinity--it doesn't matter what you're saying about covid, anyone who thinks "covid is over" will immediately shut down and become incapable of listening to anything else you have to say. and unfortunately, a majority of the population does, in fact, think covid is an irrelevant concern even for immunocompromised people in 2024.
importantly, all general air sanitation improvements will improve the covid situation significantly. in this context, you do not have to talk about covid in order to make real, material changes limiting the spread of covid. system-level changes that limit the spread of things like the flu and chickenpox are equally effective in limiting the spread of covid. take advantage of that!
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rederiswrites · 3 months
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Saw a post in passing saying that op hoped the advent of Lucanis, treasured "prince" of the Crows, wouldn't lead to the sanitization of the Crows. The group that we know most as the one that buys children, tortures them so severely that many of them die, and then uses them as assassins that die if they fail.
And I don't know man, I don't think that's a big worry. Like, could they? Sure. But nothing about Lucanis' story or the other story in Tevinter Nights that revolves around Crows does that. It just gives a top-down view of the Crows, not a bottom-up one.
The Crows were always, in theory, an outgrowth of a group that tried to uphold Justice and the Antivan Way, or whatever. It was always Antiva's shadow military. That's not new lore. It's not surprising to find Crows that believe they're righteous.
And Lucanis very much was beaten and abused. His grandmother trained him, and she used beatings and the withholding of food and water in doing so. He doesn't seem to have much faith in the Crows as an agent of good. To quote from the Wigmaker Job (Tevinter Nights),
Illario: "This isn't Antiva. We're not heroes here." Lucanis: "We're not heroes anywhere, cousin."
and later:
The Antivan Crows were assassins not freedom fighters. Back home, people liked to romanticize, but Lucanis knew what he was.
Before, we saw the Crows from Zevran's perspective, and he started as the lowest of the low. Now, we have Lucanis, favored child and heir apparent. It's an entirely different viewpoint. And yet it's the same organization as it always was. It still uses torture and coercion, even on the highest of its members.
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kisses4lao · 1 year
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Guess who's suffering from writers block!!! No but fr I wanna write SO BAD but I just can't 😭😭 so take some twst pp hcs until I decide to work on commissions again
Not proofread idc shank me
♧CW!!! Fem reader! twst dick hcs duh, every NRC student EXCLUDING ortho, might have some other hcs too
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Riddle:
Its... cute? Idk how to explain it
He is VERY sensitive
5.5 inches
Slight curve downward
The tip is a really deep red
Cum is watery, tastes like rosewater(this is a fantasy world i can make cum taste like anything i want)
Balls aren't all that heavy, very soft and squishy tho
Likes rimming. No further comments
Trey:
EEK MY BOY
I'm gonna try not to be biased
Hes BIG tho
I know you've seen him. Let's be honest, we all know he's PACKING
So I'm gonna say a solid 7-8 inches with a nice amount of girth
No curve, but very veiny
Heavy balls. Like, HEAVY. Bros got a whole bakery in there
Soft pink tip
Cum is the normal consistency, he takes care of himself
If you're sucking him off he'll change the flavor of his cock and his cum to whatever you want (thank god for doodle suit)
Cater:
Easy 7 inches
Not too sensitive, it takes a while for him to cum
His cum is pretty thick, its all the spicy ramen he eats
Curve upward, huge thick vein going from his balls to the tip
Cum tastes salty, but not overwhelming
Will have his clones fuck you silly
Deuce:
Another small boy
I'll say 6 inches, no curve
Hes sensitive too, but not as much as riddle
He really like getting his balls sucked more than his cock itself
Cum is watery too, but it tastes good
Like sweet in a way
Tip is a light blue dont ask why
Ace:
Another small boy 😭
He is CLUELESS
Poor man is a one pump chump
5.6 inches, curve to the left
SENSETIVE. pussy got this boy on his knees
Balls squishy, balls soft?
Yes to both
His rip is red, like a blush red
Azul:
A good 6ish inches with a curve downward
Not as sensitive as you may think
I think it would be funny if the bottom of his cock had like little suckers or some shit
Tip is dark purple and he has some veins, not many tho
Heavy balls, no squish :(
Cum is thick and black bc octopus
Tastes like what watered down hand sanitizer smells like
Jade:
😨
Its slimy.
No further comment on that
No but its like wet, a lot
So is floyds but we aren't there yet
Its like lube 🥺
Okay but he's LONG
8.5 AT LEAST
He also enjoys rimming
Tip is dark cyan
Cum is slimy too
Add some borax water and sell it on etsy
Floyd:
Basically the same as Jade
Hes smaller tho
Hes 6 inches but has SO much girth
His cum is more watery than slimy and the tip is a light blue
Lots of veins too
Kalim:
6 inches
So sensitive
He begs.
Loves blow jobs but would NEVER ask for them
Heavy soft balls
A dark brown tip and there's lil red swirlies
Cum is thick
Tastes like coconut toothpaste
Jamil:
mmmmmmmmMMMMMMM
BIG
So big
Destroy me PLEASE
7.8 inches and a big curve upwards
Likes fingers in his ass, just like Kanye west
Doesn't like blow jobs he cums too quick :(
Gets overstimulated easily and when he does hes highly submissive
Cum a lil thick (its all the curry he eats)
Its yummy tho
Tastes salty and a lil sweet
Like a pretzel
Tip is a redish-brownish
Vil:
Hes a very odd case
Hes big, dont get me wrong
But mans does NOT have sex 😭
He complains it ruins his makeup
7.4 inches with a few veins
Oh yeah hes unclipped too idk why but he is
Tip is a pinky purple color
Balls got some weight, they're not sensitive
Rook:
Hes an even weirder case
Hes very big but almost NEVER penetrates you
Hed much rather be in between your legs for hours on end
Making you cum on his face gives him so much pleasure
He doesn't touch himself either
When he's eating you out he has one hand thrusting fingers into your pussy, the other hand thrusting fingers into your ass(hes an ass man I know he is) while he sucks on your clit the whole time
He cums on the sheets whenever you do bc he knows how good you feel
Hes 8.5 inches with a curve down, large vein going upward
A creme colored tip
Cum normal consistency, you don't know what it tastes like because he never let's you suck him off :(
Epel:
Small boy
Whimpers
A lot
Hes 6 inches with a curve to the left
Light purple tip bc I said so
Light balls, but no squish :(
Cum is watery and tastes like lavender oil
Idia:
Oh god
Contrary to popular belief he has a lot of stamina
He doesn't have ANY experience tho
Played a lot of hentai games but thats the extent of his experience
I think it would be really funny if instead of whispering dirty talk or praise during sex he tells you the fnaf lore
Like he'll be blowing your back out and he'll just be like "so the crying child was actually william aftons son-" and then he cums
After hes done and doing aftercare he'll quiz you on the fnaf lore
If you get any of the questions wrong he'll fuck you until you can't walk as a punishment
If you get them all right he'll eat you out for hours until you also can't walk
Win win honestly
8 inches
TIP IS BLUUUEEEEEE
Cum is thick and salty, he doesn't take care of himself
Heavy, HEAVY balls. Very sensitive
He loves blow jobs too
Leona:
8.8 inches, but if we're being real to how ACTUAL lion anatomy is hes closer to 3 inches but yall aren't ready for that convo
Not sensitive at all, it takes so long for him to cum
But when he does hes so sweet, whispering praise after praise to you and lots of kisses
Cum is normal consistency, a lil on the thicker end
Its a bit bitter with a sweet aftertaste
Hes also unclipped and I will not elaborate
Idk if lions have them but if they do then he has a knot, not as big as jacks tho
Heavy balls, they're sensitive
Brown tip, like, dark brown tip
Ruggie:
7ish inches with a curve down
Also likes eating you out
Doesn't like having his balls touched
They're cute and squishy tho
Cum is also thick and doesn't taste like anything
Tip is a light brown and has a vein going through it
Jack:
8 inches.
Has a huge knot. Physically cannot pull out when it comes to it
Cum tastes like strawberries
Doesn't let you suck him off often bc he doesn't wanna knot in your mouth
Also gets pleasure from eating you out
Tip is grey and sensitive
Malleus:
Hes also like rook in the way he'd eat you out for hours if you'd let him
But he does penetrate you
Our big dragon boy loves the feeling of being inside your tight cunt
Will probably cum if you praise him
He has 2.
One on top one on the bottom
The one on top is longer, 9 inches while the one on the bottom is 7ish, the bottom one is a lot thicker tho
He'll be so slow easing them in and almost never goes fast when it comes to sex
He sees it as love making
They both have a black tip and the cum is normal consistency, tastes like... eggs? Hardboiled don't ask
Oh yeah his cum glows in the dark
Lilia:
Idc what you guys say this man is SO EXPERIENCED
He knows how to have sex properly and can make you cum in seconds if he feels like it
7 inches, his dick is where all his height went
Because he's so experienced he doesn't cum easily
PINK TIP PINK TIP
His cum is normal consistency, a little watery maybe
Tastes like citrus
Silver:
Loves when you ride him
Likes missionary too tho
7 inches too
His tip is grey
Very sensitive and gets overstimulated easily
Hes also just very submissive in general
Cum is watery and tastes like what a new car smells like
Sebek:
LOUD
SO LOUD
CANT TAKE THIS BITCH ANYWHERE
Cries during sex
Loves when you pull his hair
Does he have horns? If he does they're very sensitive
Cums if you touch them
Hes a crocodile right
Nah he has horns
8 inches no other comments
GREEN TIP
Cum is thick and bitter
We love him tho
Balls squishy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♧♧~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/n: im so fuckibg tired god help me
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chlix · 21 days
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sharpest tool
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bf! chan x fem! reader: chan doesn't love you like you love him. you're not planning on doing anything about it
genre: angst, suggestive (but not actually very fun or sexy)
word count: 2.9k
warnings/tags: toxic relationships/situationships, arguing, self-worth issues
a/n: this fic is inspired by "sharpest tool" off sabrina carpenter's new album! i heard it and immediately knew i wanted to write for it. i also plan on doing other songs off the album with other members but we'll see if i get to that before the album loses all relevance 💀
“What’s new with you then?” your coworker Seohyeon asks once the lunch rush dies down. You’re wiping spilled coffee off the bar and she’s pretending to reorganize the stacks by the till, but really, you’re both just trying to look busy while you recover from the last round of customers. Seohyeon has already bitched about her evil landlord and snitched on your manager for critiquing the way the new girl set up the cup display. Now, it’s your turn to overshare. Unfortunately, your life is scant of any juicy details.
“Nothing. You know I have no life outside this job,” you say.
“So not true,” she says. “What about that guy who keeps hanging around waiting for you to get off every day? How’s that going?”
You stiffen. “It’s going.”
She hums sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”
You drop your rag in the bucket of sanitizer water and take a long breath.
“It’s not bad. It’s not really anything right now.”
“You know, I mentioned how he’s always waiting for you, but I haven’t really seen him in a couple of weeks.”
“You and me both,” you mutter. Unwittingly, your hands drift to your phone in your apron pocket, hoping it’ll buzz and you’ll get a text from Chan, as if he’d sense you thinking about him and give you the attention that you’ve been craving. When you first met, the two of you had that kind of psychic connection. It was like you were of one mind. He was everything you wanted in a guy. He still is.
That’s what makes this all so difficult.
The idea of Chan using you as a warm body isn’t inherently distressing. Or, it wouldn’t have been, if he’d posed the idea initially. Maybe if he’d asked you for that up front, then you would’ve known better than to catch feelings. Or at least if you had, then you could take all the blame unto yourself for being softhearted, overly optimistic. He could be blameless. This would be easier if he was a bad person. Or maybe he is, and you just love him too much to care.
“If you want to talk about it, I’m all ears,” Seohyeon says.
“There’s not much to say. We weren’t really even dating. I think. I mean, he doesn’t owe me anything.”
Seohyeon gives you a knowing look, and it makes anything else you were planning on saying stick in your throat.
“Get well soon, girl,” she says, and turns back to the till. You swallow, pick up the bucket of dirty water, and go to dump it out in the sink in the back.
Chan does not come in at the end of your shift and wait for you. Of course not. He does text you, though.
Hey, he says. It’s the first time he’s spoken to you in a week. The casual nature of it swallows you alive.
Hey
Busy tonight?
Never for you <3
My place? 8?
It’s almost pathetic of you to keep falling for the same old trick. Can it even be called a trick if you’re neither fooled nor impressed? You always knew you were just a placeholder, filling in the gaps for when he can’t have the girls he really wants. He doesn’t have to make it so obvious, though.
Placeholder. It’s one of those thoughts that as soon as it crosses your mind, you know you’ve already lost. You’re not sure if Chan realizes that’s what he’s turned you into. You can’t really blame him. You only recently realized it yourself. You’ve been hooking up for months, you’ve been hanging out with his friends, you’ve been posting each other and having cozy nights in with long conversations that last until the early morning. He’s your baby. You’re his girl. But you’re not his girlfriend. Six missing letters and suddenly, you’re the crazy one.
You wonder if Chan knows how these periods of long silence make you feel like a cheap lay, like someone he doesn’t even know. Maybe he does, and this is all an elaborate manipulation tactic that’s working distressingly well. Maybe he doesn’t know, and you’re projecting malice onto his thoughtlessness.
It doesn’t matter either way. You know it, and you’re still going to go.
Ok <3
You put your phone away and start walking to the bus. You need to go home and get ready.
You arrive at his apartment just before eight pm. He hates it when people aren’t punctual, and you hate it when he’s upset, so here you are, shaved and showered and dressed all pretty. You’ve developed a scarcity mindset around him- you need to make sure every time he sees you is perfect because the incidents are so few and far between. You need to look irresistible, so enticing that he’ll be begging to come see you again. It’s so pathetic that you piss yourself off on a daily basis.
You fix your hair and clothes, ring his doorbell. He answers the door, all smiles and muscle tees, and it almost makes you forget that you haven’t seen him since the last full moon. It’s like a thirst that doesn’t make itself known until that first drop of water.
“Hey, baby,” he says, drawing you into his arms. He kisses you deeply, not lustful but loving and you let yourself fall into it.
“Missed you,” he says, low in your ear. He smells like aftershave, like sandalwood and pine.
“Missed you more.”
He pulls you into his apartment and closes the door behind you so he can press you up against it and kiss you again. He licks into your mouth, and you let him, bringing your own hands up to cup his face. The barest bit of his stubble tickles against your palms. His body is warm and solid against you, it makes your knees weak, makes your heart race. For the moment, you forget every grievance you’ve ever had with him. You forget how upset you were at work today, and Seohyeon’s pity, and how empty your phone has been lately. The world outside the two of you might as well not exist.
Chan’s hands slide up under your shirt, pressed against your stomach. Your gut twists.
The illusion shatters.
You pull your lips away from him.
“Chan,” you say, trying to be authoritative, but you’re breathless. He moves away from your mouth and latches onto your neck, and your body reacts without your permission, arching into the touch, but you pull your hands away and press on his chest.
“Chan, stop.”
He lets you push him, taking a step back and looking down at you with blown wide eyes.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just…not feeling it.”
“Right, sorry. Didn’t mean to pounce on you. We can move to the bedroom if you want?”
“No…” That sticky feeling is building in your throat again. “I’m just not really in the mood for sex at all, right now.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Awkward silence stretches between you. He’s just looking at you, unsure how to proceed, and you want to die a little more every minute.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just- I’ll go-”
“No, wait!” He catches your arm as you go to turn away. “You don’t have to leave. I’m the one who’s sorry. You shouldn’t have to apologize for something like this.”
“Okay…”
He kisses your forehead again, affectionate and chaste. “I’m glad you came. I wasn’t lying about missing you, yeah? Let’s just have a chill night in.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’ll order in. It’ll be nice.”
You let out a long breath and pull him into a hug. He embraces you, and your ear ends up pressed against his chest. You can hear his heartbeat thrumming under his ear, soothing, reassuring.
Okay. Okay okay okay.
You try to have a good night, you really do. You want to be happy when you’re around him, but it’s like a switch has flipped in your head and it’s impossible to truly relax. He orders food from your favorite place without you having to even ask.
“You want your usual?” he asks.
“You still remember my usual?”
“I remember everything about you, love.”
You think about earlier, how he’d known to text you as soon as you got off work yet hadn’t made the effort to actually show up like he used to. You tell him your usual is fine and kiss him on the cheek.
When the food arrives, you curl together on the couch under blankets and put on some show as background noise. There was a drama you were watching together, but he doesn’t bring it up and neither do you. As he pulls up Netflix, you notice the title card in his Recently Watched, but you haven’t been over in so long that you know it can’t be from the last time you were together. He doesn’t pause, skipping over it completely to select another random thumbnail.
“This okay?”
You hum an affirmative and the Netflix logo appears on the screen, signaling the start of the episode. You eat your food and try to focus on how good it tastes instead of how leaden your stomach feels.
As the night wears on, you realize that he’s being cagey. He asks you questions about your life and your job, about your sister and her baby and your plans for the holidays. He’s always been a good listener, always attentive and empathetic and curious. He’s been good at getting secrets out of you as long as you’ve known him.
I’ve never told anyone this before, you would start sentences, but I feel like I can trust you.
You can, he’d respond. I’d never judge you. I care about all of you, even the parts you might not care about yourself.
Always so welcoming, so loving. It had you spilling your guts after only the third date.
I’m rambling, I’m sorry. You don’t need to hear about all my baggage.
Y/n, I want to know anything you’re willing to tell me. Communication is important in relationships. It builds strong foundations.
And yet here he is, only a few months later, dodging all your questions about where he’s been or what he’s been up to.
“How’s work?”
“It’s been alright.”
“You’re pretty busy around this time of year, aren’t you?”
Chan shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m used to it by now.”
You nod around the fork in your mouth, unsure how to continue the line of inquiry. You try again, another topic this time.
“Did you hear about that giant pile up downtown? There were like ten cars involved.”
“I haven’t been watching the news much lately.”
“Well what have you been watching?”
“I’ve kind of had other things going on. Not much time for leisure.”
“Right. You said you were busy with work.”
He doesn’t reply to this. You want to shrink into the couch cushions and coil inside one of the springs.
You eat in silence for a while, eyes flittering between the screen and his face. Once or twice, his phone will ding, and he’ll pick up and scroll through it, shoot back a quick reply. You don’t ask who’s contacting him. When he’s done, he sets his phone face down on the table, out of your reach.
When you’re both done, he takes the empty containers from you and goes to dispose them. His hair bounces as he moves, curling around his ears and the tops of his brows.
“Your hair’s getting long.”
“Is it?” He pulls at a loose curl, stretching it out in front of him critically. “Guess I should get it cut.”
“Nooo, I like it. It suits you.”
He glances at you shyly. “You think?”
“I know. You look adorable.”
“I can’t be walking around adorable. What would that do to my image?”
“Right. Mr. Tough Guy Bang Chan, who always has short hair and thick biceps. There’s a brand image to consider.”
“Exactly! I knew you’d understand.” His cheeks dimple in his smile, but it’s shaky, and it disappears as quickly as it came. “And anyway, I just don’t think…” He trails off.
“Don’t think what?”
Chan stays quiet for a while, lost in thought. You’re unsure whether or not to push, but before you can say anything else, he snaps out of it. He shakes his head as if to clear it and throws an apologetic look your way.
“Never mind. Just getting too into my head.”
Concerned, you rise from the couch and cross the room to his kitchen.
“Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Don’t worry about me.”
“Of course I worry about you. I care about you.”
Chan isn’t meeting your eyes. “Just leave it alone, y/n. It’s stupid anyway.”
“Something bothering you could never be stupid.”
“I said just leave it alone.” His voice is harsh now, face hardened in the way he does when he’s not being nice anymore. He’s putting his walls up and you don’t understand why, and it’s tearing at you, the cumulative weight of all this distance.
“Okay. Whatever then.”
You turn around and start walking back towards the couch.
“Whatever?”
The audacity to sound offended after the way he’s been treating you.
“I can’t make you talk to me. If you don’t want to tell me anything then why keep asking?”
“Don’t be dramatic. I’ve been talking to you all night.”
“No, you haven’t. You’re shutting me out.”
“Shutting you out?” He sounds genuinely confused. You stop halfway back to the living room and turn to look at him.
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
He lets out a short laugh and pushes his curly bangs away from his forehead, hands alight with anxious energy.
“Y/n I invited you over here. We’ve been talking and watching the show. I thought we were having a good night. Now I want to keep one thought to myself and I’m ‘shutting you out’?”
That same twisting in your gut starts up again.
“You’re making me sound so unreasonable.”
“I mean, can’t you see how this looks from my perspective?” He turns away from you and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s developing a headache. Like he’s the one being tormented. “Sometimes I feel like you and I are living in different realities.”
It’s like a dagger in your chest. All your indignation leaves you, leaking out of you and pooling at your feet in a sad little puddle of self-respect.
“Don’t say that.”
“I don’t know what else you want me to say.”
You set out of your ring of self-loathing and approach the island where he is, still turned away from him. You reach out a shaking hand and turn him to face you. When you meet his eyes, you see frustration, confusion, and helplessness.
You’re a placeholder. You know it, Seohyeon knows it, the girl he’s been texting all night knows it. It’s possible Chan doesn’t.
That’s fine. You know it, and you’re in love with him anyway.
You press your hands against his chest, leaning up so you can look right in his eyes.
“I’m sorry,” you say. “You’re right. I’ve been on edge lately; I didn’t mean it.” You smile, self-deprecating, embarrassed. “Forgive me?”
Chan lets out a long breath. He grabs your hand and kisses it, then keeps holding on to it, his grip strong and secure.
“Nothing to forgive. I’ve been all over the place too. But we’re here now, together. So let’s just relax, yeah?”
You nod. He leans down and kisses you. The twisting in your gut persists, but you don’t pull away until he does.
“Let’s go finish this episode,” he says, and goes to lead you both back to the living room.
The night feels like a failure. You can’t figure out why, but the thought of just finishing your show and then putting your coat and boots back on and leaving feels like accepting defeat. Your legs are unstable underneath you, but not in the way they were earlier, when Chan was kissing you like his life depended on it. Now, you are standing at the top of a very tall hill, fighting against gravity to remain upright on the slope.
Get well soon, girl.
You close your eyes tightly, then reach forward and grab the back of Chan’s shirt. He jolts, surprised, then turns back to you. You release his jacket as he turns and grab his hand instead, lacing your fingers together.
“Forget the show,” you say. “Take me to bed.”
His eyes widen. “Are you sure? Earlier you said-”
“I’m too in my head. You’re right. I should try to relax. I haven’t seen you in weeks.” You get on tiptoe and lean up to his ear and whisper. “You can make me feel better, right Channie?”
Chan’s fingers tighten around yours. When you lower yourself back onto your heels, he’s looking down at you with dark eyes. You push down your unease, leave it abandoned on the floor with your anger and ego and heartbreak.
“You’re sure.”
“Never surer. Unless you don’t want-”
He effectively silences you by sweeping you into his arms, lifting you up like you weigh nothing.
“Baby, you have no idea the things I want.”
You laugh, shocked at the display of strength, and wrap your arms around him as he carries you away. The last thing you see before he shuts the bedroom door is his phone on the table, vibrating with an unanswered call.
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l4long-winded · 8 months
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o.s. fresh, unwilting daisies
summary: carmen gets possessive after your ex boyfriend stops by and leaves you a bouquet of daisies (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)
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reflection: wrote this yesterday and edited it today. i have received a few requests in my inbox if anyone is interested in leaving me some more, i'll get to those as soon as i can. let's relish in the collective carmy brain rot together <3 please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!
warnings: cursing, cynicism, reader has an ex boyfriend, inner monologue, carmen's pov, filth, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, possessive!carmen, jealous!carmen, praise, multiple orgasms, use of "sweet girl," reader doesn't like daisies (they're pretty, let's pretend, sorry to all the daisy lovers), past relationship, donna mention, office setting, p in v sex, dom!carmen (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 1,750
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Stupid.
Stupid, stupid, stupid motherfucker. Who does he think he is? Waltzing into Carmen’s restaurant, the cuffs of his dirt infested denim jeans dragging over Carmen’s pristine floor, said denim jeans hanging low on his hips like an asshole who can’t even present himself to you as an individual who actually gives a fuck. Grant didn’t hold the common courtesy to put on a belt, and Carmen doesn’t believe the man owns one, but if he’s going to saunter in and try and request time with you, Carmen’s girlfriend, then he should at least be decent and dress like he’s attempting to win you back and not as if he just got home after a hard day’s work of laying down brick. Grant doesn’t have a job so that explanation for his asshole outfit and his asshole beanie and his asshole demeanor is not worth excusing him, especially not as he smugly leaned over Carmen’s counter and let his jacket covered elbows smear his Grant-ness all over the surface. Carmen had no choice but to wipe it down with high-grade sanitizer, scrubbing away as if he could scrub away Grant completely out of your and Carmen’s life, since they’re entangled with one another now whether Grant likes it or not.
Carmen shifts his tongue within you utilizing a bit more pressure, undulating the pink muscle in and out until he forms the shape of a well to scoop your slick and curl it into his fervent, perpetual mouth. He gulps you down into the back of his throat, exhaling against your folds at the satisfying, addicting drink equivalent to a desert traveler’s first and desperate swallow of refreshing water. Carmen breathes your scent since it permeates throughout his office space and your wetness coats his cheeks and the tip of his nose, inhaling and exhaling air that causes your thighs to twitch in his hands at the sensation. He ought to be kinder to you, you’re sensitive from the two orgasms he’s endlessly worked out of your cunt, and it’s not your fault Grant continues to be an annoying fixture in your atmosphere having denied his pleas time and time again, but every time Carmen locks eyes with Grant’s lazy, complacent gaze, Carmen feels a surge of jealousy within him compelling him to mark his territory and reinforce the notion of you being his and his alone. Sure, you dated Grant first, but in Carmen’s eyes, you belong to him like you’ve never belonged to anyone.
“Mine,” he utters, slipping his tongue out to lick his puffy, swollen lips clean, exposing his line of thinking as he presses a kiss to your clit, growling and slightly smirking to find the little button still pulsing for him with need. His fingernails dig into the meat of your thighs as you attempt to clamp them around his head, and normally he would let you, but he holds them spread and open for him so he can continue to lap you into the whining mess you’re becoming atop his desk. The downside is how each of those adoring and pleasant sounds are muffled due to your palm actively pressing down against your lips, “good girl” muttered because that’s what he told you to do for him when you started and you’ve done an excellent job of quieting yourself while he practically drowns himself in your cunt. He doesn’t miss the whimper you reward him with at the praise, his right hand generously kneading the flesh of your thigh as a sign that he’s almost done, to just hang on a touch longer and allow him his fill.
“One more,” he promises, “just one more for me, sweet girl, one more,” Carmen litters your pussy and inner thighs with kiss after kiss, stamps of pure affection to calm you down and ready you for his next onslaught. He peers up at you, noticing how your body is trembling just as much as your thighs are, half your ass hanging off the edge of his desk, your upper shoulders slumping partially into the wall behind. Poor thing. Close to sobbing, your eyes glassy from the tears of pleasure that never fall from them, your shirt riding up your stomach since he only bothered to take your pants off in his rush to have you when you came in to check up on him. You deserve his fingers, and he plays around with the idea of sliding them inside you, drumming them against your skin as he thinks about stuffing you with them as his mouth closes over your clit. He’s done it in the past, he knows it would drive you to that climax he currently craves in an instant, but from scanning your disheveled features and writhing frame, his crystal blues eventually attach to the vase of daisies at the side of the two of you, taunting him as they have this entire time.
The notecard sticking out flashes Grant’s name. You don’t even like daisies, you’ve told Carmen, but Grant used to get them for you when he fucked up numerous times throughout your relationship. No matter how much you hated to accept them and therefore reinforced the habit, you would always vase them and frown as they started to immediately die the next morning. That’s who Grant is. He didn’t bother to at least buy you fresh and lively daisies, but the ones right on the verge of dying. Today, months and months into your and Carmen’s relationship, Grant stopped by with vased daisies under the intent of getting you back and they’re actually fucking beautiful, Carmen admits, but they’re pissing him the fuck off. Every glance to them sitting there has brought about this carnal desire to part your legs further for him. The flowers are taunting him, milky and lemony, an assorted arrangement plopped into a blaring, golden vase that Carmen’s mother would definitely keep if she had been gifted it herself, muttering something about hidden treasures, son while storing it away in her cabinet’s hoarding of dishes and “fine china” she gathered from the thrift store. They’re nice. Too nice. Carmen should get you some flowers, he decides to himself, flowers that you would actually like without some underlying motive, simply because he cares about you and because he wants to see your smile light up when he personally hand delivers them.
Fucking Grant. His fucking daisies are taking up too much fucking space on Carmen’s desk and he hates it, he hates that he had to move them from the front of the restaurant into his office so they wouldn’t obstruct the customers, he hates the contents of the notecard begging you to be Grant’s again as if you were ever his in the first place.
“Mine,” Carmen grunts again, lapping up your slit with the full flat of his tongue, dragging it to relish in your taste, in the moan you choke out against your hand, his nose catching between your folds. He glances up at the flowers, the line “want you to be mine again” ringing in his ears from when you read the note aloud to him. Well, fuck you, Grant, he thinks, it’s his tongue and mouth on your cunt and it’s his cock that’s going to be plunging in and out of you tonight on his couch, in his bed, in the shower as you brace yourself with your hands planted on his tile walls.
Fucking cry over it, motherfucker. Fuck your flowers. I’m the one fucking her.
And something… miraculous(?) happens. A single petal falls from the flowers as Carmen licks at you. He watches it swish and sway through the air, descending down until it lands right next to his hand, right on top of your thigh, his thigh.
He pushes his head in further, yanking you by your (his) thighs to meet his mouth as he simultaneously swipes away the petal like it burned you. You squeak out in surprise, your opposite hand flying down to grip the curls in his hair as you sputter above him. Carmen seals his mouth over your clit, done with the teasing, done with his thoughts, and all he wants is to send you over that blissful edge he’s pushed you towards already, stroking you with rolls of his tongue and strong suckles of his suctioned lips. You don’t even last a minute, swaddled pleas of something resembling his name being cried out into your hand, your head bumping into the wall behind as you cream around nothing. He glances down, petting your cunt with merciful, languid brushes of his tongue, in awe of the mess you’re soaking out onto his desk. He drops his jaw lower to catch all of it, close to licking your essence right off the surface if it weren’t for how you’re currently teetering on it. Carmen stands up, unbuckling his belt hurriedly as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, your cunt’s release once on his lips and chin now transferred to the digits and knife tattooed over it.
“Wha-… Carmy?” You ask as you sit up, only for him to pull you by your hips back into position for him. You look so dazed, fucked out beyond belief, and as he manhandles you to spreading your thighs all over again, his elbow knocks the vase of daisies with enough force to send them crashing down to the floor. The glass breaks into scattered shards, causing you to jump, but Carmen doesn’t seem to have noticed. He’s just lining himself up and pushing straight through your walls, well lubricated with his spit and your cum, having been loved on long enough for your shared coworkers to begin questioning your and his whereabouts. You actually yelp this time, grasping at his broad shoulders as you adjust and clench around him. He latches his lips to yours to mute your noises, thrusting away, pounding the cunt belonging to him and no one else, growling as he bites at your bottom lip.
As he steps his feet apart from one another to open your knees up for extra access, glass crunches under his shoe, water splashing under the sole of the other, and a few daisies are crushed as he fucks you with a quickening pace. He’s not worried about it. He’ll get you some tulips or maybe some sunflowers, something pretty for you to look at as he has you bent over the kitchen table tomorrow morning.
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joongtreasure · 6 months
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Cupcakes and Kisses
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Mingi x Fem Reader (ft. ATEEZ members) Word count: 6.6k Genre: high school au, jock Mingi, kissing booth au Note/s: Based on the film Kissing Booth (2018). This was in my drafts since 2021? + Mention of Changbin of Stray Kids <3 hehe Photo credits: 1, 2, 3
High school—it's the period for the most embarrassing moments of your life. Not only was it the time for raging hormones and puberty, but also a time for wrong decisions.
And today was no exception.
Today was the last day of the pitch for the spring carnival at KQ Prep. The student council required every club in the school to set up a booth for the event. Or else, no extra funding for club activities.
You were the vice president of the culinary and baking club, or as others would like to call it, the foodies. It's not that bad or insulting, to be honest (depending on you if you take it to heart). It is certainly not for your best friend, Jung Wooyoung, who was also the president of the club.
You and Wooyoung were like a tandem, a buy-one-get-one-free deal. In many ways, you and Wooyoung fill each other up: you were the shy and patient one, while Wooyoung was the confident and loud one. There was never a boring moment with him, but that doesn't mean all moments with him were good. Like right now...
Wooyoung, with a firm grip on your school blazer sleeve, dragged you across the hallway, whining, "It's a good idea!"
You, on the other hand, tried to pull away, saying, "No, it's not!"
Wooyoung grumbled. "The water sports are doing a toss and dunk booth! We have to beat their sorry asses!"
"You just want to beat Changbin!" You tried to pull away again but Wooyoung's grip was so firm that your school shoes were starting to skid against the school floor. "How is a kissing booth by us any better?!"
"It will be a hit!"
"It spreads germs!"
"We'll provide sanitation and mints!"
"We could be sued for public indecency!"
Wooyoung sighed and let go of your hand. "Oh, come on, live a little, Y/N."
You shrugged. "Can't we just make a bunch of food for the carnival? I know everyone will be hungry."
Wooyoung gave you a pointed look. "Everyone is going to sell food and trinkets at the carnival."
"Well," you jutted your chin out in confidence, "we could do, uh, well, an apple bobbing competition?"
Wooyoung scowled at you. "That's boring." He sighed. "Look, the majority of the officers already agreed to the kissing booth, Y/N. Except you."
"That's because you implied that San will be in the lineup of kissers," you stated. "Even though you haven't even asked him yet."
"That's because he and I think alike. Trust me, he would agree."
You pouted. "And trust me, the food will sell."
Wooyoung smiled and patted your head. "Oh, sure, you do that," he said before turning around and scurrying towards the student council's office.
You sighed.
-----
You slumped on the empty front steps of the school, sporting a frown on your face. Wooyoung was taking so long in the meeting. You hoped the kissing booth was rejected by the student council.
The doors of the school opened, the sound of the creaking metal startling you out of your thoughts. You looked back to see Song Mingi, the star of KQ Prep's basketball team, exiting the building and looking fresh out of a shower. He probably just finished practice.
You looked away before he could catch you staring. Mingi was one of those guys who looked straight out of a movie—tall, handsome, athletic, always wears a varsity jacket, drives a Jeep, and center of the school's attention. But it would be foolish to think that he's arrogant and proud like the trope. He's one of the sweetest and nicest people you ever met. 
You had a few classes with him. You could say that the interaction between the two of you is funny. He could be playful yet gentle and respectful at the same time. And in time, you also found yourself liking him like the entire student body.
Unbeknownst to you, as soon as Mingi saw you alone on the steps, he smiled and slightly hurried down. "Hey, Y/N," Mingi greeted, plopping beside you on the warm pavement.
You internally freaked when you saw Mingi next to you. The loose shirt, the sweet scent of his shampoo, and the dopey grin were too much for your poor heart. 
"You had a club meeting today?" Mingi asked.
"Not really," you responded. "I'm waiting for Wooyoung to finish his pitch for the spring carnival."
Mingi nodded. "And what will your club be doing?"
You groaned. "Don't remind me. It's embarrassing."
Mingi chuckled. "Why? It can't be that bad."
You sighed before muttering, "it's a kissing booth."
Mingi's eyes widened in surprise. "That's... interesting."
"It's all Wooyoung's idea," you shrugged. "Nothing better than to capitalize on teen hormones, right?"
"Right," Mingi said monotonously.
Seeing his somewhat dry response, you slumped. "I told you it was an embarrassing idea."
"No, I mean, yes—I mean," Mingi stuttered a response. "It was just unexpected, that's all." Mingi somewhat looked conflicted, but he still smiled softly at you. "Is it alright for me to ask if," he paused.
"If what?"
"If you—I mean, would you be joining?" Mingi asked.
You blinked in thought. "What do you mean?"
Mingi studied your confused expression before shaking his head. "Nevermind," he said, standing up.
You groaned. "Great, now you got me curious."
"It's nothing." Mingi laughed. "But, hey, if teen hormones bring you the money, then, why not?" He said, making you laugh as well. "Got a ride home?"
"Yeah," you smiled, "I'm riding with Wooyoung."
Mingi nodded. "Alright, I'll see you around then, Y/N."
You blushed. "Yeah, see you," you said as Mingi continued his way down the steps.
"Hey," he turned to you one last time, flashing you his oh-so-perfect smile. "You look cute as always, Y/N," he said before heading towards the parking lot. You swore you could've melted right on the front steps that day.
-----
It was no surprise the council approved the kissing booth idea. You totally blame Wooyoung. The boy could probably smooth talk himself out of jail if the situation calls for it.
Your club already started building the podium and mini stage for the booth in the school courtyard because there wasn't room in the Home Economics classroom. The weather was too perfect to ignore by anyone who had free period at the time.
"I'm going to get more paint," Wooyoung said to you before jogging towards the doors and into the building.
You were left alone with a few of your members, who were engaged in a hushed conversation while you minded your own business. 
You took a peak at the guys playing at the basketball court. It's no surprise that Mingi and his friends were playing. They always do during free period. They must really love the sport. 
It is also no surprise that they have a few spectators as well. It's the only time you would ever find Mingi and his friends setting their blazers aside, donning only their school shirts that accentuated their build so heavenly. Not that you were staring…
Speaking of, Yunho and Mingi laughed among themselves as Yunho tried to shoot the ball. Mingi effectively blocked him with his hand, however the ball bounced out of the court. It bounced until it was rolling over the pavement and stopped right where you were painting. You were able to grab the ball before it could barrel into the newly painted podium.
Seeing where the ball ended, Mingi ran towards you. "Hey," he greeted as he picked up the ball and crouched down next to you, "it's looking great. What's it for?" He asked, referring to the podium.
"It's for this week's carnival," you answered with a sigh.
"Right," Mingi chuckled awkwardly. "Umm," he paused, "so what will you be doing while," he drifted off, evidently conflicted as he pondered over his words carefully.
You looked at him funny. "While...?"
"While, you know," Mingi shrugged, "while people are kissing."
"I'll just man the booth," you said nonchalantly. "I'll leave it to Wooyoung and the others to facilitate the germ spreading."
Mingi laughed, looking somewhat happy and relieved at the same time. "Still haven't warmed up to the idea, I see."
"Never."
Mingi grinned. His face morphed into embarrassment as Yunho called for him from a few meters away. "Are we going to play, or are you too busy mingling, Mingi?"
Mingi rolled his eyes before smiling at you. "I gotta go. I'll see you around, Y/N."
You waved at him as he stood up and went back to his friends. You chuckled at the sight of Yunho giving Mingi a headlock and basically hauling him back to court. The boys laughed between themselves before returning to their game with their other friends.
You were feeling blissful, like how you always felt whenever you and Mingi talked to each other. You truly liked the guy. However, the blissful feeling was short-lived as a wild Wooyoung plopped down next to you. "What was that?!" He asked.
You blinked curiously at him. "What was what?" You looked at the spot you were previously painting. "I'm almost done. I didn't miss a spot as far as I could tell."
Wooyoung rolled his eyes. "I wasn't referring to the podium. I was referring to you and Mingi!" He exclaimed.
You looked at him funny. "It was just a friendly conversation."
"Friendly?" Wooyoung sighed exasperatedly. "Oh no no no, honey, you didn't see what I see. The guy is into you!"
"Don't be ridiculous, Wooyoung," you shook your head. "We have always talked like that. He's just super nice—"
"Na-ah! Again, you didn't see what I see," Wooyoung replied. All of a sudden, Wooyoung's face broke into excitement. He started slapping your arm, making you groan not in pain but in annoyance. "I just thought of the most brilliant idea EVER."
You frowned, not liking where this was going. "What?"
-----
"This is worse than you pitching the kissing booth idea to the council."
"Oh, come on," Wooyoung said as he kept pushing you towards the gym where the basketball team was training. "I will be of service to you forever if you manage to get him."
It was already past class hours when Wooyoung dragged you into putting his idea into action. He said you guys should have a meeting about the spring carnival after class. But alas, he deceived you again. That sly fox, you thought.
Wooyoung faced you towards him. "Alright, your uniform is clean, no evidence of your lunch anywhere," you rolled your eyes as Wooyoung checked you up and down. Wooyoung scrutinized your face before smiling triumphantly. "No booger or drool in sight too," he said.
"You—!" You exclaimed, but Wooyoung turned you around again and shoved you closer toward the gym doors. Sighing, you walked toward it, and right when you were directly in front of the entrance, you looked back at him. "How is this the most brilliant idea you ever had, again?"
Wooyoung shrugged. "The plan here is simple: talk to Mingi and his friends into joining our lineup of kissers so we can get more people to come to our booth."
"I don't want to use him, Woo."
"The man's too soft for you," Wooyoung smiled. "He will do whatever you want, I guarantee."
You gave him the most innocent look you could ever muster in an attempt to change his mind. But Wooyoung just shooed you with his hand and raised his eyebrows pointedly. With a defeated sigh, you opened the doors and entered.
The basketball team was in the midst of a practice game. You immediately spotted Mingi, running while dribbling the ball across the court. When he managed to outrun his opponent, he immediately made his shot, the ball flying through the air and into the hoop. You stared at him, awed as he was in his element. 
A bunch of squeals echoed in the gym. There was an audience watching with excited grins and squeals near the team's benches. It was an open practice after all. Sighing, you sat awkwardly at the side.
The coach blew his whistle, signaling that training was over. The players rejoiced and immediately jogged to their bags scattered on the benches. There were a few girls who called for Mingi, but he only smiled sheepishly and went to his gym bag. 
"Hey, Mingi," Yeosang, his friend and teammate, spoke between his breaths. "Isn't that your friend?" 
Mingi looked at wherever Yeosang was pointing. And true enough, you were there at the edge of the bleachers, awkwardly twiddling with your fingers.
"Yeah," Mingi said, dumbfounded at the thought of you watching their training.
"I think she's looking for you," Yunho, Mingi's best friend, said. He shook his head in amusement, eyeing Yeosang knowingly as Mingi started wiping his sweat and combing his hair deliberately to the back. Mingi hastily gathered his things before approaching you.
"Hey," he greeted with a smile.
You stood up awkwardly. There was something about a wet-haired Mingi in a basketball jersey that had you tongue-tied for a moment. "Uhh, hi, umm, Mingi."
"Were you waiting for me?"
"Umm, yeah, can I talk to you about something?"
"Sure, have a seat," Mingi said as he sat a bleacher apart from you, not wanting you to smell his sweaty state. "What's up?"
"Well, our club is hosting a kissing booth for the spring carnival," you slightly frowned at your awkward self. "Umm, but I think you already knew that."
Mingi chuckled and nodded amusingly. "Yeah, you might have mentioned it once or twice," he joked.
You let out a small laugh. "Yeah, I did, didn't I? But, well, you see, Wooyoung asked me to ask you about something."
Mingi nodded again, urging you to go on.
You sighed nervously. "Can you," you cleared your throat, "can you be—wait, I must emphasize that it was Wooyoung's idea."
"It was Wooyoung's idea," Mingi repeated. "Got it. Crystal clear. Now, what's up with Wooyoung's idea?"
You sighed defeatedly. Well, here goes nothing, you thought. "Can you be one of the kissers for our kissing booth?"
Mingi's eyes turned wide. "What?"
Your lips formed a thin line. "Umm, can you be one of the kissers for our kissing booth?" You repeated, less confident this time.
Mingi blinked unbelievably. "Why me?"
You sighed. "Well, Wooyoung was hoping your friends too. He said that having the players of the basketball team would bring revenue to the booth."
"Oh."
You frowned. "I'm sorry, I told Wooyoung you might be uncomfortable with it, but he insisted that I should still ask you."
"Why would I be uncomfortable with it?"
"I don't know," you shrugged. You were busy playing with the ends of your school blazer as the conversation pursued. "I guess, I didn't pin you to be the type to openly kiss strangers, or show public displays of affection."
"Maybe," Mingi side-smiled, "maybe not. Or, maybe it depends on the person."
"Oh," you muttered, "sorry. I didn't know."
Mingi then leaned on his knees, getting a better view of your slightly flustered face. "Do you want me to be a kisser?"
"What?" You stared at him blankly.  "Well, Wooyoung said—"
"I mean, do YOU want me to be a kisser?" Mingi emphasized, "You as in Y/N L/N, and not Jung Wooyoung?"
You didn't reply immediately, pondering over what his question meant. "Why are you asking me?"
"I don't know," Mingi said. "I feel like I should listen to you."
Why, though? This conversation was going nowhere and it was making you more nervous than before. Not to mention Mingi's inquisitive gaze that had you looking anywhere but him. 
Do you actually want him to, though? I mean, the kissing booth opens so many opportunities, but you were uncomfortable with the thought of him... the thought of him kissing...
"No," you said.
Mingi smiled, nodding at your answer, which confused you. "Then I won't," he sat properly again against the bleacher, letting his intense gaze turn into a soft one. "I won't join then."
"What? Why?" You were dumbfounded. 
"Just tell Wooyoung I'm busy or something," he said. "But I will try to talk to my friends, though. Emphasis on the word 'try.'"
"W-Would you have joined if I said yes?" You probed, but Mingi already stood up as if the conversation was already over, smirking at your confused look.
"Do you have a ride home?" He asked.
"Umm, yeah, Wooyoung's right outside," you answered.
"Well, then, I'll see you around." Mingi smiled at you for the last time before exiting the gym.
You sat back on the bleachers. Though your stance was already relaxed due to the conversation being over, your mind still couldn't wrap around what just happened in the conversation. Would he have agreed if I said yes?
The doors of the gym creaked as someone entered. It was Mingi again. He approached you with a different glint in his eye this time. What now?
"Hey," Mingi greeted. "Could you hold this for a moment?" Before you could ask, he put the object he was referring to in your hand. It was a set of keys—car keys, in particular. "Don't lose it, okay? I'll be quick, I swear." And just like that, he left again.
You stared at the keys in your palm. You really like Mingi, but he was seriously giving you a whiplash at the moment.
Your phone buzzed in your blazer pocket, indicating that you received a text message. You pulled it out to see a text from Wooyoung.
There's an emergency at home. Had to pick up Kyungmin from our grandma's house. Go get your man!
-----
You walked back and forth in the hallway, in front of the boy's locker room. You didn't know why Mingi left these keys with you, but you figured you had to return them to him before you leave for the bus stop. You couldn't just leave it somewhere and message him about it. Someone could steal it. Or worse, someone could steal his car.
Just in time, Mingi exited the locker room, fresh out of the shower and now sporting a big hoodie and sweats. "Hey," Mingi smiled.
"Hey, you gave these to me for some reason," you jiggled the car keys before placing them on his palm.
"Right," Mingi chuckled. "Shall we?"
You stared at him. "Shall we what?"
"Wooyoung already left, didn't he?"
"How did you know?"
Mingi chuckled. "The hallway was empty when I left," he shrugged, putting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie, "I figured he went somewhere."
"Ah, yeah, he said he had an emergency at home," you responded, following Mingi outside the school. 
Truth be told, Mingi met Wooyoung in the hallway.
---
Mingi smiled as he saw Wooyoung in the hallway. "Hey," he greeted. "Sorry, I don't think I can join. I think I have to visit my grandma that day."
Wooyoung slumped. "Oh, okay. Where's Y/N?"
"She'll be right out, I guess," Mingi replied. "See ya—"
"You like her, don't you?" Wooyoung asked.
"Uhh," Mingi blushed. "I-well, I, umm—"
"Yup, you like her," Wooyoung smirked. "Why won't you ask her out then?"
Mingi sighed. "I don't think she's interested in me in that way."
Wooyoung scoffed. "Believe me, she does." He started walking away. "I'll be taking my leave. Hope you get the guts to ask her out."
Mingi sighed again when suddenly he remembered, "Hey, aren't you her ride home?"
Wooyoung turned around and started walking backward with a smirk. "Am I?" He waggled his eyebrows before disappearing in the hallway.
Mingi grinned and shook his head in amusement before rushing back inside the gym to leave you his car keys.
-----
Mingi glanced momentarily at you with a smile. He would have to apologize in the future for using your kindness like that. But he hoped that doing this would drive him to ask you confidently out on a date.
Mingi opened the school doors wide enough for the both of you and waited until you were completely outside before closing it. 
"Come on, I'll give you a ride," Mingi offered.
"Oh, no thank you," you hastily refused, "I'll take the bus."
Mingi shook his head. "I'm not taking no for an answer. We live a few blocks away, anyway, so it's really convenient."
"But I don't want to impose," you sighed.
"You're not, Y/N," Mingi said. "And you won't. Like ever."
You sighed again. "But—"
Mingi shook his head then snatched your school bag. "If you ever want to see this bag again, you're going to have to catch me," and with that, Mingi ran towards the parking lot.
"Hey, no fair!" You followed him, pouting as the distance between the two of you widened. Damn his athletic build.
You chased after him, groaning in annoyance when Mingi reached his car and wiggled your bag as if to spite you. But you both found yourselves laughing as soon as you almost barreled into him and he caught you before you both could barrel into his jeep.
"Come on, Y/N, it's really not a bother," Mingi said, opening the passenger door.
You sighed. "Fine," you huffed as you grabbed your bag and settled in his passenger seat. "Just this once," you told him.
"Oh, don't count on it," Mingi said, winking at you before closing your door. You swore he would be the death of you.
As Mingi drove his jeep out of the school lot, you both fell into a casual conversation. "So why don't you want me to be a kisser?" Mingu asked.
You narrowed your eyes at his teasing expression. "Oh, stop smiling. I don't want anyone to be part of that"
"I guess, you didn't have much say on the idea?"
You slumped against the car seat with a soft 'yeah.'
Mingi looked at you momentarily before focusing on the road. "What was your idea?"
"Nothing special." You smiled. "I was thinking of just baking cupcakes or pastries."
"I think that's a great idea."
"Yeah, right," you muttered sarcastically.
"No, I swear. I think your baking's great," Mingi stressed.
"How would you know?"
"Because I bought and ate a lot from last year's fundraiser." Mingi smiled and chuckled, almost as if he could smell and taste your fresh batch just by thinking about it. "Especially those cupcakes. I swear, they're good."
"Huh, no wonder the cupcakes sold out easily," you chuckled. "We had an influencer."
"Or," Mingi drawled, "your baking is just that good." He smiled, switching his gaze back and forth between the road and you.
"Said no one ever," you shot back teasingly.
"I just said like seconds ago that they're good." Mingi shook his head in disbelief. "You don't take compliments very well."
"Maybe because I don't usually get them," you retorted.
"Ahh, all the reason for me to compliment you more then."
You looked at him before turning away upon seeing his smirk. "Oh, stop it," you said jokingly, but your heart felt like it was ramming against the seatbelt of his car.
The car slowed down to a stop just right in front of your house. You were about to thank him when Mingi suddenly exited the car. He rushed to your side before opening the car door.
"Thanks for the ride," you said. "You didn't have to do that." 
"I don't mind," he replied, following you to the front door.
"And you didn't have to walk me to the door." You chuckled. "It's literally like a few steps away from the fence."
"But I want to, though." Mingi shrugged and put his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie.
You both arrived at the front door. You were too busy finding your keys to notice that he was lingering to stay with you longer. As you opened your front door, you finally noticed his awkward stature. "D-Do you want to have dinner with us?"
"Oh," Mingi snapped out of it. "Uhh, maybe next time. My mom's waiting for me at home."
You nodded in understanding. 
"Y/N," Mingi sighed. "Do you want to...?"
"What?"
"I mean, umm," Mingi scratched his head awkwardly. "Do you—do you have any of those cupcakes lying around?"
"Oh, could you wait here for a minute?" You smiled before disappearing into your home.
Mingi palmed his face in frustration, muttering 'stupid' and 'dumbass' to himself. He pulled himself together when he heard your footsteps nearing.
You came out again with a small box in hand. "I baked them last night but they're still good," you said, handing out the box of cupcakes to Mingi.
"Thanks," Mingi grinned sheepishly nonetheless. "I'll give some to my mom."
"You better," you smiled.
"Thanks again, Y/N. I'll see you at school," Mingi started walking backward with a soft smile.
"See you," you waved at him. "Thanks for the ride."
Mingi winked at you before hopping into his jeep. As soon as Mingi's jeep disappeared into the night, you slumped against your front door and tried to calm your blushing self.
-----
It was the day of the dreaded carnival. The field where your school held the said carnival was almost in full swing, the lights and excitement gradually increasing as time passed by.
Your club has been there since early morning to finalize everything for the booth. Despite your judgment against the club's concept, you still had to do it for the sake of the team. 
Although, you had convinced Wooyoung to sell baked goods nonetheless. Your point was to remind the audience that you were still the culinary and baking club of the school. Thankfully, he agreed.
So, here you were, setting up a separate table for different baked goods beside the registration.
Wooyoung surprised you with an arm around your shoulder and a big grin. "I can already feel wads of money in our laps." He dramatically inhaled for effect. "I mean, look at our lineup so far."
You begrudgingly looked at the people readying themselves on the mini-stage. 
Leave it to Wooyoung to invite people from the top of the high school food chain. Everybody likes Wooyoung anyway. At least there were a few friendly faces—school mascot San, street dancer Seonghwa, up-and-coming celebrity Jongho, and... student council president Hongjoong?
"How did you get him?" You almost giggled at Hongjoong's icy demeanor just standing in the middle of the lineup.
"Oh, he owes me," Wooyoung said nonchalantly. When you gave him a look, he just replied, "Don't ask."
You shook your head as if to shake the idea of Hongjoong in Wooyoung's debt. It's an amusing sight, though.
"So where's your pretty boy's friends?"
You shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't seen them ever since."
You knew it was too good to be true. Your moment with Mingi lasted only a day as you haven't seen him for the rest of the week. Not even on free period. And when you had a class together, he looked like he was about to doze off and fall from his desk. You didn't want to be a bother.
"Oh, wait, nevermind. Here they come."
You immediately glanced up to see Mingi, Yunho, and Yeosang walking toward your booth. You could feel the crowd starting to buzz upon seeing the star players approach the kissing booth. Your gaze landed on Mingi who sported a plain oversized shirt and ripped jeans. So simple yet so handsome.
"Hey," Mingi greeted with a smile, never looking away from your gaze.
"H-Hey, how have you been?" You tried to keep your blush at bay.
"Well—"
"We're so glad to be here, Y/N. Mingi really convinced us to be here," Yeosang smiled in a—teasing?—manner, which you responded to with an awkward chuckle. 
"Yeah," Yunho chimed in. "Mingi really, really wanted us to join your kissing booth." Yunho smiled widely at Mingi, who only rolled his eyes.
"That's great, great news!" Wooyoung rejoiced. He quickly winked at you before ushering Mingi's friends to the lineup.
When you and Mingi were the only ones left, you smiled sheepishly. "I hope it wasn't much of a trouble convincing your friends."
"Don't worry, Y/N, it wasn't." Lie(-ish). Yunho and Yeosang complained a lot and made Mingi do whatever they liked for the past few days. From doing their homework to washing their cars, they were relentless. He hadn't gotten any proper sleep because of it. But, it wasn't really much of a trouble since he was doing it for you. Well, your club. But mostly for you.
Mingi stared at the table of baked goods in front of you. "I see you convinced Wooyoung to continue with your idea." He smiled.
"He still listens anyway." You chuckled. "Do you want one?"
"Definitely. I'll take a—" 
Before Mingi could finish, Wooyoung appeared and dragged you away from Mingi. "Sorry, Mingi! We're about to start now!" He yelled, but not before freezing on the spot as an idea popped into his head.
Wooyoung went back to Mingi with you in tow. "Actually, can you do us a favor and man the table? I need Y/N for the register."
You clicked your tongue and were about to protest when Mingi immediately said, "Sure."
You looked at him curiously. "Really?"
"I don't see why not," Mingi smiled.
Deep inside, Wooyoung was popping confetti. Wooyoung thanked Mingi before going to the center of the mini-stage. You placed yourself at the registration table as Wooyoung shouted, "And the kissing booth is officially open!"
----
You thought you could handle the smooch-fest behind you. But... you thought wrong. The amount of kissing and hooting was too much for your poor heart. Thank the heavens the registration continued to pile up and you had to put your sole focus there. Well, not entirely.
You would sometimes peek at Mingi who had his own long line to attend to. Mingi manning the food table seemed to generate a longer line than the kissing booth, which made you chuckle softly before turning your attention back to the registration.
It wasn't long before Mingi managed to sell everything on the table and he approached you with the funds he generated. You dumbfoundedly accepted and stared at the small lunchbox where he put the money. 
"I hope I did well, Ms. Y/N." Mingi smiled.
"You did, Mingi," you replied. "Thank you so much for helping us."
Mingi shrugged. "It was no problem." He looked at his watch. "Well, I have to do something for the time being. Will you still be here later?"
You nodded. "I'm here 'til it closes."
"I'll see you then." Mingi winked before disappearing into the carnival crowd.
-----
If you were being honest, the rest of the afternoon felt slow despite the buzz around your booth. With Mingi gone, it suddenly felt boring. You didn't show it though. You still wanted to be presentable to the carnival-goers. 
As night rolled in, the excitement started to die down. The crowd dissipated until only a few people were passing by the booths. The kissing booth was more successful than you thought, thanks to Wooyoung and his lineup of volunteers. 
As Wooyoung set aside the podiums, you counted all the money you had raised from the kissing booth and food table. You were halfway done when Wooyoung finished packing up and stood beside you. "So, how much did we earn?" He asked.
"I'm not done counting," you said. "But, we already have enough to win the student council's favor and have some extra funds for our own," you happily gleamed.
"Yes! Let's get drunk and party!" Wooyoung cheered.
You glared at him. "You're joking, right?"
Wooyoung forced a smile and patted your head. "Of course, I'm joking," he said, though his tone didn't sound as sincere as you had hoped.
You tutted before turning back to the money in your hands. For a moment, Wooyoung was quietly watching you count the bills. Then, all of a sudden, he spoke, "Oh, would you look at the time, it's getting late. Gottagohomenowbye," before scurrying away.
You looked up confused, your eyes following his seemingly excited figure before landing on a tall one that was walking towards the booth. You tried to hide your fluster as Song Mingi stopped in front of the registration counter with a smile. "Hey," he said.
"Hey," you smiled sheepishly. You can't help but notice the oversized windbreaker that he is now sporting. "Umm, we've closed already."
"I know," Mingi said, "I just came here again to talk to you."
"Oh, what about?"
Mingi scratched the side of his head. "Uhh," he mustered, "nothing in particular. What are you doing?"
"I'm just counting all our earnings," you referred to the bills in your hand. "Thanks again to you and your friends. I think you were the ones who attracted the crowd, Yunho and Yeosang especially."
Mingi scoffed. "If the crowd knew how weird they are, they wouldn't be lining up at all."
"And you're not?" You teased.
Mingi raised an eyebrow. "Who wanted me to join your lineup again?"
You rolled your eyes. "That was Wooyoung, not me."
"Sure, okay," Mingi shrugged with a smirk. 
You shook your head, wanting to wipe that smirk off his pretty face. You turned back to your money and jotted down the numbers under the last person to register. "Weren't you interested in our lineup of kissers? I can't thank you enough for helping us and being here and all."
Mingi leaned over the counter and crossed his arms. "No, not at all," he answered as he watched you work.
You looked at him and chuckled. "So you just came to watch your friends make out with a bunch of people, then?" 
"Well, I did to maybe get some material for blackmail," Mingi chuckled then cleared his throat, "but I was also waiting for someone."
"Oh," you said. You sounded so dry that you wanted to beat yourself up for seeming affected. "Who?"
"For you, actually," Mingi answered without a hitch, making you blush madly. "I—uh—also got you something." He placed a small chick plushie on the counter. 
You smiled uncontrollably as you grabbed and squeezed its fluffy material. "Where did you get this?" You happily asked.
"The claw machines rented by the robotics club," Mingi sighed. "My talent is limited to basketball I guess, since I only got one."
"It's cute," you chuckled. "What is this for anyway?"
"I figured a gift is better than $5 for a..." Mingi trailed off, unsure of how you would react.
Your face morphed from happy to surprise upon realizing what he meant. You looked him in the eyes to see whether he was joking or not, but eventually, you avoided his intense gaze. And you suddenly realized how close he was as he continued to lean over the counter, waiting for your response. "Stop that," you mumbled, "please."
"Stop what?"
"That," you said, not looking at him as you pushed him gently away from the counter. "Stop messing with me." 
Mingi sighed as he stood properly, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. "I'm not messing with you, Y/N. I," he paused, plucking up the courage, "I want to kiss you—no, I want to ask you out first because I like you a lot."
You bit your lip anxiously. He wouldn't mess with you, right? You continued to stare at your feet. You can't bear to see if he was joking or not.
Mingi leaned over the counter again in an attempt to see your face. "I can see that you're holding yourself back. What's stopping you?"
You sighed, meeting his eyes for a moment before looking back down. "You're Song Mingi—"
"Nope, don't start. I don't wanna hear that bullshit. Give me a logical one like, I don't know, you don't like me back?" Mingi said sternly. His deep voice made the hairs on your nape stand. "I can date whomever I want. And that's you, Y/N. I like you for who you are. You're sweet and kind to everyone. You're one of the smartest people I know. You even stand up to your best friend for what you think is right."
You bit your lip again in a fluster, still too shy to make your move.
Mingi sighed. "If you don't like me back, it's alright, Y/N. I'm not going to be mad." He smiled softly. "I'm sorry for bombarding you with these things. You don't have to answer when you're uncomfortable." He moved to walk away, but you instantly grabbed the lining of his jacket to stop him.
"No, I—" you gripped the material nervously. "I like you too, Mingi. I—" You paused again, not knowing how to say your problem.
Mingi's eyes widened in surprise but waited for you to finish.
"I like you, Mingi. I—" you gulped. "And I also want to kiss you."
"But?" Mingi asked. "I feel like there's going to be a 'but' there."
You looked down at the counter. "But, I don't know how."
"I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically. "We don't have to kiss right now. We can just have dinner for now—"
"But I want to," you blurted out, which you immediately apologized for nonstop.
For a moment, you thought Mingi was going to laugh at you. You guessed that most of the people your age had already gotten their first kiss. Heck, your club's booth was a testament to that. So you were utterly embarrassed by your confession. 
However, Mingi did no such thing. "Move over," he said. You didn't know what he meant until he climbed over the counter. You almost tripped backward when he jumped down right in front of you. He caught you just when you were about to stumble.
"What are you doing?" You mused.
"Can't you tell?" Mingi teased as he held your face tenderly. "I'm trying to kiss you properly."
You shook your head in disbelief and amusement. This guy is really sleek. 
"C-Can I kiss you, Y/N?" Mingi asked. He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, comforting you.
You were extremely flustered by the warmth, not to mention the anticipation of what he was about to do, so all you could do at the moment was nod silently at his question.
Mingi smiled. You thought your heart was going to explode as Mingi came closer. You thought he was going to kiss you on the lips right away, but he planted a soft kiss on your forehead first. Then on your nose. You had to refrain from giggling, given the soft moment. Then he slowly came closer to your lips. You closed your eyes when you felt it against yours.
You couldn't explain it, but you felt warm and fuzzy inside despite your heartbeat ramming against your chest. The air felt soft yet exciting at the same time. It was definitely more than what you had imagined it to be. 
You slid your hand against his chest and rested it behind his neck. His hands softly slid against your waist and pulled you closer. You could faintly hear Mingi humming in delight. And a few moments later, you both stopped to gaze at each other.
Although, you still had trouble maintaining eye contact with his intense ones. And Mingi just chuckled lightly at the sight. "You still don't want me to be a kisser?"
"No, I—" you pouted and Mingi just laughed.
"Don't worry, you're the only one I want to kiss," he murmured before kissing your forehead. "Dinner?"
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coffeeghoulie · 4 months
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Mushy May Day 24: Acts of Friendship
Dew's been a little cold to the new ghouls. He aims to fix that.
Thank you so much to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together, and to @ghuleh-recs for making the dividers <3
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Dew's quiet around them for the first few weeks. Testing the waters. Two new faces shoehorned into his pack only a few Topside years after the last time his pack had been turned upside down. Nobody can blame him for being a little cold.
It's easy enough to do, he just holds onto his stage personality a little longer, spine straight, arms crossed behind his back. He grits his teeth as he watches them slot into the spots his mate held, his Sunshine held, and he knows it's not their fault, but it's still like rubbing hand sanitizer into a paper cut you don't know you have.
Dew misses Aether, misses the way things were, swallows past the lump in his throat. His packmates seem to be having an easier time accepting Aeon and Aurora than he is.
He watches Swiss sidle up to Aeon, watches him get on his knees for Aurora. The ghoulettes, ever the tight knit group, accept Aurora as one of their own from the moment she had been pulled from the summoning circle. Mountain and Rain ruffle Aeon's hair, the new bug eager to please.
Rituals are surprisingly still the same, minus the vacuous hole that resides out of the corner of Dew's right eye where his mate would be standing. Aeon is a remarkable guitarist, and they do their best to fill their role with exaggerated stage presence.
The amphitheater is stubbornly warm long after the sun's gone down, heat clinging to them and their heavy uniforms. Dew has never felt out of his element here. This is what he was summoned to do, and Lucifer be damned, he does it well.
The fans scream as he steps up to the edge of the stage, glaring menacingly through the lenses of his helmet, fingers flying over the strings of his Stratocaster. If he shuts his eyes, it all feels the same.
There's a lull, Papa addressing the masses, and Dew stands statue still, scanning through the crowd. A ritual-goer, wide eyed in awe, gestures up at him with a bouquet of flowers. He cocks his head, lips quirking up underneath his balaclava.
Dew reaches, bending down as the fan tosses him the flowers, squealing all the while. He actually manages to catch them this time. The breatheable fabric does dull the scent somewhat when he sticks his entire face into the bouquet, but thanks to his ghoulish senses, it's still incredibly sweet.
He nods, thanking the fan, their eyes wide and reflecting the stage lights. Dew takes a deep breath, glancing over his shoulder at the ghoulettes behind him, turning on the heel of his boot to walk towards their platforms.
Dew stops at the foot of the platform nearest his mark, staring up at the littlest ghoulette, one arm behind his back.
Aurora's not muzzled like him, Rain, and Aeon. Dew can see the way her glamour slips just a little bit, fangs on full display as she grins delightedly. Worlds away from them, the crowds scream, desperate to watch the ghouls interact.
"Aw, Dew!" she squeals, thankfully far enough away that her mic doesn't pick it up. She presses her hands together in front of her mouth, the bright teal-lined cape swaying behind her as she bends down to accept the flowers. "Thank you," she whispers, and her dark green eyes meet his through the lenses of their helmets. "Seriously, thank you."
He nods, bowing a little bit. Dew opens his mouth to speak but doesn't trust his voice right now, just brings his arm back behind his back.
Aurora sets the flowers down on the back of her podium, where they're not in danger of her accidentally stepping on them when she dances. Dew smiles as he makes his way back to his spot. He glances over towards Aeon, who's staring raptly at him, and Dew doesn't need to actually see their expression to know how eager they are that he's reaching out to his summon mate
The two of them are growing on him, worming their way into his heart, and he finds he doesn't quite mind letting them in. There's room.
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Deb Chachra's "How Infrastructure Works": Mutual aid, the built environment, the climate, and a future of comfort and abundance
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This Thursday (Oct 19), I'm in Charleston, WV to give the 41st annual McCreight Lecture in the Humanities. And on Friday (Oct 20), I'm at Charleston's Taylor Books from 12h-14h.
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Engineering professor and materials scientist Deb Chachra's new book How Infrastructure Works is a hopeful, lyrical – even beautiful – hymn to the systems of mutual aid we embed in our material world, from sewers to roads to the power grid. It's a book that will make you see the world in a different way – forever:
https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/612711/how-infrastructure-works-by-deb-chachra/
Chachra structures the book as a kind of travelogue, in which she visits power plants, sewers, water treatment plants and other "charismatic megaprojects," connecting these to science, history, and her own memoir. In so doing, she doesn't merely surface the normally invisible stuff that sustains us all, but also surfaces its normally invisible meaning.
Infrastructure isn't merely a way to deliver life's necessities – mobility, energy, sanitation, water, and so on – it's a shared way of delivering those necessities. It's not just that economies of scale and network effects don't merely make it more efficient and cheaper to provide these necessities to whole populations. It's also that the lack of these network and scale effects make it unimaginable that these necessities could be provided to all of us without being part of a collective, public project.
Think of the automobile versus public transit: if you want to live in a big, built up city, you need public transit. Once a city gets big enough, putting everyone who needs to go everywhere in a car becomes a Red Queen's Race. With that many cars on the road, you need more roads. More roads push everything farther apart. Once everything is farther apart, you need more cars.
Geometry hates cars. You can't bargain with geometry. You can't tunnel your way out of this. You can't solve it with VTOL sky-taxis. You can't fix it with self-driving cars whose car-to-car comms let them shave down their following distances. You need buses, subways and trams. You need transit. There's a reason that every plan to "disrupt" transportation ends up reinventing the bus:
https://stanforddaily.com/2018/04/09/when-silicon-valley-accidentally-reinvents-the-city-bus/
Even the cities we think of as motorists' paradises – such as LA – have vast, extensive transit systems. They suck – because they are designed for poor people – but without them, the city would go from traffic-blighted to traffic-destroyed.
The dream of declaring independence from society, of going "off-grid," of rejecting any system of mutual obligation and reliance isn't merely an infantile fantasy – it also doesn't scale, which is ironic, given how scale-obsessed its foremost proponents are in their other passions. Replicating sanitation, water, rubbish disposal, etc to create individual systems is wildly inefficient. Creating per-person communications systems makes no sense – by definition, communications involves at least two people.
So infrastructure, Chachra reminds us, is a form of mutual aid. It's a gift we give to ourselves, to each other, and to the people who come after us. Any rugged individualism is but a thin raft, floating on an ocean of mutual obligation, mutual aid, care and maintenance.
Infrastructure is vital and difficult. Its amortization schedule is so long that in most cases, it won't pay for itself until long after the politicians who shepherded it into being are out of office (or dead). Its duty cycle is so long that it can be easy to forget it even exists – especially since the only time most of us notice infrastructure is when it stops working.
This makes infrastructure precarious even at the best of times – hard to commit to, easy to neglect. But throw in the climate emergency and it all gets pretty gnarly. Whatever operating parameters we've designed into our infra, whatever maintenance regimes we've committed to for it, it's totally inadequate. We're living through a period where abnormal is normal, where hundred year storms come every six months, where the heat and cold and wet and dry are all off the charts.
It's not just that the climate emergency is straining our existing infrastructure – Chachra makes the obvious and important point that any answer to the climate emergency means building a lot of new infrastructure. We're going to need new systems for power, transportation, telecoms, water delivery, sanitation, health delivery, and emergency response. Lots of emergency response.
Chachra points out here that the history of big, transformative infra projects is…complicated. Yes, Bazalgette's London sewers were a breathtaking achievement (though they could have done a better job separating sewage from storm runoff), but the money to build them, and all the other megaprojects of Victorian England, came from looting India. Chachra's family is from India, though she was raised in my hometown of Toronto, and spent a lot of her childhood traveling to see family in Bhopal, and she has a keen appreciation of the way that those old timey Victorian engineers externalized their costs on brown people half a world away.
But if we can figure out how to deliver climate-ready infra, the possibilities are wild – and beautiful. Take energy: we've all heard that Americans use far more energy than most of their foreign cousins (Canadians and Norwegians are even more energy-hungry, thanks to their heating bills).
The idea of providing every person on Earth with the energy abundance of an average Canadian is a horrifying prospect – provided that your energy generation is coupled to your carbon emissions. But there are lots of renewable sources of energy. For every single person on Earth to enjoy the same energy diet as a Canadian, we would have to capture a whopping four tenths of a percent of the solar radiation that reaches the Earth. Four tenths of a percent!
Of course, making solar – and wind, tidal, and geothermal – work will require a lot of stuff. We'll need panels and windmills and turbines to catch the energy, batteries to store it, and wires to transmit it. The material bill for all of this is astounding, and if all that material is to come out of the ground, it'll mean despoiling the environments and destroying the lives of the people who live near those extraction sites. Those are, of course and inevitably, poor and/or brown people.
But all those materials? They're also infra problems. We've spent millennia treating energy as scarce, despite the fact that fresh supplies of it arrive on Earth with every sunrise and every moonrise. Moreover, we've spent that same period treating materials as infinite despite the fact that we've got precisely one Earth's worth of stuff, and fresh supplies arrive sporadically, unpredictably, and in tiny quantities that usually burn up before they reach the ground.
Chachra proposes that we could – we must – treat material as scarce, and that one way to do this is to recognize that energy is not. We can trade energy for material, opting for more energy intensive manufacturing processes that make materials easier to recover when the good reaches its end of life. We can also opt for energy intensive material recovery processes. If we put our focus on designing objects that decompose gracefully back into the material stream, we can build the energy infrastructure to make energy truly abundant and truly clean.
This is a bold engineering vision, one that fuses Chachra's material science background, her work as an engineering educator, her activism as an anti-colonialist and feminist. The way she lays it out is just…breathtaking. Here, read an essay of hers that prefigures this book:
https://tinyletter.com/metafoundry/letters/metafoundry-75-resilience-abundance-decentralization
How Infrastructure Works is a worthy addition to the popular engineering books that have grappled with the climate emergency. The granddaddy of these is the late David MacKay's open access, brilliant, essential, Sustainable Energy Without the Hot Air, a book that will forever change the way you think about energy:
https://memex.craphound.com/2009/04/08/sustainable-energy-without-the-hot-air-the-freakonomics-of-conservation-climate-and-energy/
The whole "Without the Hot Air" series is totally radical, brilliant, and beautiful. Start with the Sustainable Materials companion volume to understand why everything can be explained by studying, thinking about and changing the way we use concrete and aluminum:
https://memex.craphound.com/2011/11/17/sustainable-materials-indispensable-impartial-popular-engineering-book-on-the-future-of-our-built-and-made-world/
And then get much closer to home – your kitchen, to be precise – with the Food and Climate Change volume:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/06/methane-diet/#3kg-per-day
Reading Chachra's book, I kept thinking about Saul Griffith's amazing Electrify, a shovel-ready book about how we can effect the transition to a fully electrified America:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/12/09/practical-visionary/#popular-engineering
Chachra's How Infrastructure Works makes a great companion volume to Electrify, a kind of inspirational march to play accompaniment on Griffith's nuts-and-bolts journey. It's a lyrical, visionary book, charting a bold course through the climate emergency, to a world of care, maintenance, comfort and abundance.
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If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/17/care-work/#charismatic-megaprojects
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My next novel is The Lost Cause, a hopeful novel of the climate emergency. Amazon won't sell the audiobook, so I made my own and I'm pre-selling it on Kickstarter!
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fairyhaos · 1 year
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how seventeen take care of their sick s/o
requested by @cinnamoroxie : "agh i think ive been getting sick 😭 could u write svt w a sick reader / or just a reader w a sore throat and cant speak w out it hurting pls? love u hope youre doing well "
notes: i :(((( want :((( a joshua :((((
masterlist
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seungcheol:
cancels all your plans for the rest of the day when you wake up in the morning barely able to speak. won't let you protest, saying that you need to prioritise your health okay bc these people you're meeting aren't as important to him as you are. if you've just got a sniffly nose n sore throat, he'll let you sleep on him but if you're coughing n sneezing everywhere then sorry, he loves you but maybe stay away from him for a few days? 
jeonghan:
will do everything for you. even tho he doesn't have the loudest voice, he'll try his hardest to yell over the other members to get them to quieten down so he can listen to your hoarse whispers n get you whatever you need <3 gives you so many cough drops that you constantly have one in your mouth the entire time. you can taste them still on your tongue for like a day after you feel better
joshua:
gives you head massages if you have a headache, makes you honey tea if your throat hurts, always has tissues on hand if your nose is running. The Best™ at looking after you. won't leave your side, even if you're spraying germs everywhere, and he has a cold that lasts for three weeks by the end of it, but you're happy and healthy n that's all that matters to him
junhui:
kind of a fluttery mess when you get sick, doesn't rlly know what to do. pats your head constantly, asking if you're okay, and swaddles you in blankets. also gives you so many painkillers and antibiotics bc he doesn't Know what else to do okay and please you sound so terrible n croaky pls take this medicine bc it's meant to make you better and he hates when you're ill :((
hoshi:
coos and baby talks to you when you're sick and a blocked nose mess. speaks in a whisper back to you if you have a sore throat and can barely speak, makes those canned soups for you and spoon feeds it to you. he's a messy feeder tho, n most of it gets around your mouth but he wipes it away vv gently afterwards. hoshi is probably so, so soft when taking care of someone when they're sick tbh &lt;3
wonwoo:
accompanies you everywhere you go. insists you lie down and sleep but if you don't, then he's hovering around you like a concerned mother to make sure you don't overdo it. tells everyone you meet that you have a sore throat and so you can't speak, and Will drag you away if you start coughing too hard, scolding you lightly and pulling a scarf out of nowhere to wrap around your neck
woozi:
wants to take time off working so bad to help take care of you but he rlly can't </3 sets medicine and a glass of water on the table for you to take in the morning, regularly calls you (or texts, if you can't speak) to see how you're doing. checks up on you at night, smiles and kisses you on the forehead if you wake up and blearily murmur his name. he's busy, but he'll still make time to be soft for you
minghao:
always has tissues. and hand sanitizer. and cough drops. and paracetamol. has literally everything, really. says well done and pats your head when you drain a whole glass of water while swallowing the medicine, bc drinking water and flushing out toxins is the best way to get rid of an illness. another person who baby talks you if you're all sick n pouty
mingyu:
makes soup. makes tea. forces both liquids down your throat even if you complain bc it's good for you and he spent so much of his precious time making it for you how dare you try and refuse???? it definitely helps with your sore throat the next day, though, and he looks so smug as he ladles you another bowl of soup to have in the morning. 
dokyeom:
almost starts crying when you tell him u have a sore throat through barely-there whispers bc the pain :((( of not being able to speak :((( that breaks his heart to think about. knows the struggles of runny noses So Well, whips out a tissue and presents it in front of your face if you so much as sniffle quietly. hugs you the entire time, wakes up the next morning with a sore throat and then Actually starts crying
seungkwan:
your personal megaphone whenever you're sick and can't speak. yells at the other members to shut up and listen when you have something to say, and then repeats what you whisper in his rlly loud voice. won't let you have meds (they are!! the demon's pills!!!!) but learns from mingyu how to make rlly good chicken broth for you
vernon:
gets so sad for u when you croak out to him that you can't speak bc your throat hurts so bad. makes you gargle with salt water after brushing your teeth bc it helps disinfect your throat (this is true actually n it really helps). randomly holds his hand to your forehead to check your temperature, but he can never tell if you're running hot or if it's just him
chan:
is all "oh no you're sick :(((( that's terrible also pls don't come too close to me" but pulls you in for a hug immediately if you even vaguely hint at wanting one. googles if throat massages are a thing when you tell him you can't speak bc it hurts, gives you lemon honey tea bc he finds out that helps. kinda ends up massaging your throat? his hands are always warm and they feel nice when placed on your neck
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dollmaidcrystal · 4 months
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During a period when Mistress was too focused on work to play with her submissives, I became too tight for her to comfortably fit two fingers into. As punishment, I've been assigned to train on the Motorbunny Buck, Mistress's fucking machine of choice, daily for a month.
Day 1: Is this supposed to be a punishment? This doesn't seem like a punishment at all.
Day 2: I'm already tired of having to run an extra load on the dishwasher every day, since it has the all-important "Sanitize" cycle for cleaning up the Motorbunny attachments.
Day 3: Daily training is starting to pay off. That last session felt good. Really good.
Day 4: Riding the fucking machine is not the punishment, it's having to clean up afterwards every day. I asked Mistress if I could have permission to move the Motorbunny to next to the guest showers. (She said no.)
Day 5: Barely avoided disaster today. I forgot to lock up the door to the dungeon when the municipal water inspector came by to look around the basement. Fortunately, I spotted my mistake while he was still taking his boots off upstairs.
Day 6: Skip day. Mistress was home from work, and she called "dibs".
Day 7: Experimented more with the higher vibration settings today and probably overdid it. I’m going to have to take it easy for the next few days while my poor sissy booty heals.
Day 8: Switched from the spiral dildo to the precision probe. Today's training consists of trying to find exactly where all of my spots are.
Day 9: Skip day. I had a doctor's appointment. Real life takes priority!
Day 10: To make up for skipping a day, I switched to the larger Doc Johnson attachment. It was too large to ride, so I had to use the vertical wedge stand to be taken from behind. Taking something that large felt sooo good.
Day 11: Oh crap. While moving the Motorbunny back upright, I heard a crack. The plastic casing of the adapter plug cracked in half. I jury rigged back together (with some scary sparks!), but that is going to be a problem.
Day 12: A warranty replacement for the adapter is already on its way. I am more impressed by the customer service than how good I felt after today's session.
Day 13: Skip day. Mistress came home from work early because she was feeling sick. My time was spent taking care of her and lecturing her about the importance of diet and daily exercise. Writing this down in my punishment journal, I'm glad she was too sick to notice the irony.
Day 14: After some experimentation, the Motorbunny hits my spots best if I’m leaning all the way forward or arching backwards. I'm pretty sure I should stick to arching back in photosets.
Day 15: Mistress is still sick, which makes these daily training sessions extra hard. When she's healthy, I know that riding the fucking machine is a warmup for being played with later, but now I know it's going to leave me extra frustrated for the rest of the day.
Day 16: I’m starting to crave something in my mouth during these daily rides. I’m not sure how to deal with that. Maybe I should bring a box of Triscuits to the dungeon tomorrow? Will that work?
Day 17: Bringing a ball gag down to the dungeon definitely helps with my oral cravings, but I feel kind of silly doing it. It doesn’t help that 🐶 is staring at me like he’s judging my technique at chewing a ball. "Bloody amateur can't even keep in in her mouth without a safety strap."
Day 18: Mistress had some time to personally supervise my training today. The splash image on this post comes from this session.
Day 19: The warranty replacement adapter just arrived! I think I'll leave the broken one in place and keep the new one as a backup. I said it once, and I'll say it again: I am seriously impressed by the level of customer service Motorbunny has.
Day 20: Pondering upgrades to the Motorbunny using the Bondage Erector Set. Reflective Desires has so many ideas that I want to steal.
Day 21: The cursed LureVibe fucking bear is now making the rounds. I wonder if I should upgrade from Motorbunny to Motorbear. https://lurevibe.com/products/doll-automatic-thrusting-vibrating-swing-machine-female-masturbation-device
Day 22: Mistress is upset that most of the pictures she took makes me look hunchbacked. I need to find a way to ride the Motorbunny that's more photogenic, apparently.
Day 23: Gross! I accidentally put another layer of condom and lube on the attachment and didn’t peel it off before washing. Now I have a layer of cooked on dry lube to scrub off my dildo.
Day 24: I can't figure out how to advance my training. Mistress wants me to train to be penetrated at a wider variety of angles (instead of the one that feels really, really good but looks awful on camera). What even is the best to train for that? Wiggle around on the dildo every day?
Day 25: Following a friend’s advice, I’m trying yoga on the Motorbunny to improve my range of positions. This is a weird experience, and not just because of how hard it is to hold a stretch while being fucked.
Day 26: Skip day. After Pride Weekend, I can't move.
Day 27: Flexibility training continues. I’ve learned I’m not going to be able to move which spots feel good, but I can move the rest of my body. Biggest bang for my buck seems to be in getting more dramatic back arches, followed by working on my range of leg motion.
Day 28: Taking a break from trying to improve my form. Instead, I'm putting in the thickest attachment I can handle and enjoying the ride.
Day 29: I'm putting off today's training to edit and post this punishment journal. I'm hitting post now so I can get back to training.
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gabessquishytum · 7 days
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Please consider either human au or retired Dreamling running a sex club. It's very popular and both Dream and Hob take a lot of pride in the place and are very hands on in different ways.
Dream is a dom that likes to make sure everyone is comfortable and safe within his establishment and tosses out anyone who causes problems and ensures that equipment is well kept and there are sanitation stations for toys and such readily available in the club. and Hob is a sub who always makes sure that there's water and snacks so that everyone can stay hydrated and feeling good. Both of them are almost always in the club looking after things and interacting with patrons, even if Hob has to kind of force Dream to actually talk and be social and not just making mental notes about what needs fixing or what could be changed to make things better.
Hob's favorite thing, though is the day at the end of every month when Dream spends all day in the office balancing the books and doing ordering. The office wall is shared with one of the free use playrooms and there a hole in it that's just Hob sized. He gets to have his arse hanging out on the playroom side, wearing a cock cage and being stuffed with all the cock he needs while he cockwarms Dream with his mouth under the desk on the other side. If he's very very good and doesn't distract Dream while he's working, he'll get to cum.
This is suuuuch a good idea, particularly love the idea of Hob and Dream being a little older here - they're like the mature kinky queer couple who survived a bunch of bullshit and came out the other side not giving a fuck about anything (and avidly taking care of all the baby gays + kink people who come their way).
Extroverted sub plus introverted dom is such a cute dynamic and I love the image of Hob happily cockwarming for Dream in the middle of the club. He's definitely doing a good job with the cockwarming but he's also holding conversations, being showered in kisses and compliments from friends, answering questions from newbies. Meanwhile Dream sits silently, sometimes hiding behind a magazine, tugging firmly on Hob’s collar when he wants him to pay attention. They're too cute together <3 and Hob really does like it when Dream makes an effort to dom him right down into subspace, so that he's incapable of focusing on literally anything except Dream. Everyone who sees Dream exerting his firm yet effective hold over Hob has to admit that it's deeply impressive - its the only thing in the world that stops Hob from yapping!
Their aftercare is always a private affair, tucked away in the office with Hob’s favourite snacks and cuddles on the black leather couch. They talk through their future plans, and Hob gets a nice massage (particularly if he's been on his knees at all). Hob listens to Dream’s soothing voice talking about all the new stuff he plans to order for the club... it's their own little bit of heaven, a dream come true, and they intend to enjoy it for many many years to come.
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intersectionalpraxis · 10 months
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don't expect me to humanize IOF officials and people. i just won't. i have sympathy for the ways in which settlers are taught to dehumanize Palestinian people because of the ways that zionist state indoctrinates its children -that will always be criminal and immoral (and i have respect for anti-zionist Israeli Jewish people in solidarity with Palestine). but i refuse to water down and sanitize my content calling out the double standards because the reality is there IS a disproportionate infliction of terror that the IOF has and continues to do against Palestinian people.
saying the IOF 'has a family and loved one's too,' so we shouldn't be too harsh -doesn't get to the heart of the issues here.
because you cannot and i repeat YOU CANNOT tell me that IOF soldiers who arrest and beat children, who sexually assault Palestinian women in their prisons, who happily bulldoze over the graves of Palestinian people to build water parks, who steal Palestinian people's homes when they're out for the day, who burn down olive trees (which take a significant time to bud and grow), who casually and often raid Palestinian people's homes and documenting people there -sometimes arresting and detaining them; the IOF soldiers who have shot and killed Palestinians indiscriminately for decades; especially the one story we heard of recently where a Palestinian grandfather was shot dead after being asked to have a little 'on camera' moment to show how the IOF 'actually cares,' about Palestinian people fleeing IOF violence.
what about the IOF soldiers who are actively involved in destroying Gaza's fishery sector -and who are responsible for the entire medical system collapse in Gaza and with whom are now attacking and arresting people in Jenin, West Bank -do they have some sort of superior moral compass?? no, they don't.
why would i humanize a living embodiment of someone's constant nightmare -a monster in human form. i refuse. until the occupation ends and the IOF is taken to courts for their war crimes, crimes against humanity, and genocide, i stand in solidarity with the people of Palestine.
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captain-n-crunchies · 2 months
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You need a retwist...
OPLA Ussop x Salon owner Reader
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From braids to straightening and even retwist and reties you've done all types of hair on Cocoyasi pays a good amount ever since fish face and they came onto the island. Arlong always comes to get his hair cleaned leaving only a path of violence and no tips after every visit; Nami one of my old closest friends ending up visiting my shop when Arlong and he asked me how much I make lying didn't save me wen Nami was around telling him I was practically flourishing. After she told him how much I was making he destroyed everything... thousands of berries and years of hard work destroyed all because of his and Nami's greed, he raised the village toll, and I didn't get much business for years til we got stable.
Today was collection day, the people of Coco gathered and gave Nami their payment for "protection" it was also the day Nami came to tell me Arlong would be coming for a touch up, the coward dead in front of me asking how many berries I have today threating me to not lie pr it'll happen again; after giving her a 1,000 berries and free products she gives me a solemn glance and leaves my salon like she never came.
Cleaning the floors and sinks of the salon with music from radio wafted through the cool air as I hummed a tune and swayed with the beat. Refilling water to plants and sanitizing combs a clean smell lingered in the air, loving the vibe I sit down onto the decorative couch and aid in the silence when I hear I ring of the front door. Getting up I walked to the front of my hose to see four men: a dopey boy with a straw hat, a tall man in a suit? It's 95 degrees??, a green hair swordsman, and a man with curious eyes looking over everything. The straw hat boy says the salon smells like lemon and cleaning products as he walks around touching and tapping any shiny piece of metal
" Don't touch nothin if you can't afford to replace, now what can I do for you?" I asked uninterested grabbing a apron and standing by the salon chair placing products out. The boy talks about Nami asking if I seen her based off what he's saying her sister must've led him to me. " She came in to collect Arlong's 'business fee' and left, if that's all you head on out, I'm still cleaning"
" Well did you know where she's going? We can't leave without her! Shes our navigator"
" You picked someone whose already apart of a pirate crew to join yours? Thats pretty stupid" then the swordsman told me they didn't know till now. " Thats sad but that's how she rolls, betrays her friends and does it again. It's a kink to her I guess" as I spoke, I looked to the man with the durag who now looking through a lookbook of men styles, " You're looking for new style?"
The man in the suit named Sanji who been somewhat quiet besides from complementing my looks ask what could be done to his " luscious blond locks his " I sit him down and his hair pretty clean jokingly calling him pretty boy I trimmed his hair and slicked it how it was before, the straw hat boy excitedly wants his turn and his moves to sit down and I take off his hat to see a whole god dammed mess, his unruly locks aren't kept right not even moisturized and it's filled with sand and dirt; " You should be ashamed of this... I mean how long have you went without a wash?" he thinks with picking his nose? And says a about a few months probably a year, within a long hour I washed and detangled his curly hair and it looks very pretty with a few fruity scents he looks more... boyish in a sense?
Turing to the swordsmen who is just looking around I asked did he want anything done he says he doesn't need it but if do I have something to drink, walking to the fridge in the back of the hose I get him a nice glass of sake and walks over to the man named Ussop, asking him to get in the chair and what he wants done he takes off the rag over his hair and it not as bad the straw hat boy but he's veryyy over due for a retwist. " When the last time you had your hair done? you locs are almost matted?"
" Oh! I don't know what that is, my mom did them and... well, nobody else knew how to manage them"
" It's called a retwist your locs need to maintained and just washing them isn't doing you much good."
" Oh... well can you do that? It'll look nice right?"
" Absolutely, and don't worry about the cost all I ask is you get Nami safe." Sanji questions me even when knowing Nami isn't the best person why I would want her safe I truly didn't know, being friends with her and Nojiko the fond memories of her just can't leave my mind no matter what. Grabbing some clips and a comb with some gel I section and part each loc of his, he winces at every tug and I roll my eyes when he asks is it supposed to hurt, " Well you matted locs hun, it going to a bit painful regardless" I say stilling twisting and clipping his locs as the rest of the men lounge around or read a magazine.
With in a few hours I was done and he was looking good as new, with him looking in the mirror I looked outside and it's dark and I see Arlong and his goon walking towards my salon, turning frantic I tell the Straw hats to give any money to Arlong but they seemed unfazed, well except for Ussop who slowly hid behind the swordsman. Arlong bust through the door and looks eyes with the straw hat and laughs a bone chilling laugh.
" Hello, are you here for-"
" Selling out my location to pirate huh? After the good business I gave you y/n?" I looked confused and tries to explain I dint know they were pirates just new customers but, it gets a vase and smashes it and the memories of his first visit sets in, his crew his walking around touches anything int he room as my pleas for him to get them to stop smashing things are cut off when the swordsmen points a katana at the head of fishmen and threats them. The room grows silent as each of the strange men ae in a fighting stance, Sanji tells me to get out the house and I run out the back door taking any valuables and money with me as I ran, running hearing sounds of clashing and noises of a fights echos in my ear.
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It's been two days since I seen those pirates and it hasn't been good for the town, Nami reason for helping Arlong was revealed and a battle between the Straw hats and the fishmen began. It's been quite so far and Nami came back after telling me she trying to buy the village freedom, I welcomed her back with open arms and now at Nojikos home I sit with her talking about old memories when Nami and the pirates come back with new Arlong has been defeated, with praises and thanks you I congratulate their victory.
" Well Nami you've became a pirate, a better one than I thought you would be" I comment and she smiles and apologizes for our earlier past and I forgive her when the Luffy the captain to be asks a funny question
" Your hair place got destroyed in the fight, hope you arent too mad though"
' Eh, it'll better if I just do hair occasionally plus it wasn't too big of space so it'll be alright" I think of ways to make back the money for new supplies when Nami hands me a bag opening it the bad filled with thousands of berries shines ad I almost cry, with this I could open up a new business and get better products even hire people! Hugging Nami, Luffy continues
" You should join us! It'll be nice to have a new crew member!"
The swordsman questioned him saying he just can't ask anyone to join the crew because he finds them nice or cool.
" Plus, I don't fight Luffy, nor do I know how to chart maps that's a nerd thing"
" You can do your hair stuff! Ussop can make a empty room like your salon and you can do our hair!" "And I can charge a fee too... " I mumble to Nojiko and she giggles.
" So, what do you say? It's free housing too!"
"With the chance of getting blown to smithereens?"
" It's the fun part!
Looking at a smiling Luffy I agree, and he tells me they leave tomorrow.
" Y/n Let me ask you something"
"Hm?"
" You did Ussop hair? He looks different..."
" Yes! girl he needed a retwist like 30 days ago!" Laughing that I wonder what new styles I could do being the Straw hat hairstylist, maybe I could twist up a new love in my heart?
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homeofhousechickens · 27 days
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Hii, I saw your Marek's disease post, my cousin has a hen that has this kind of eye but she's ok, she eats, moves and everything, do you maybe know if this type can also evolve and become the most dangerous types like the paralysis? I'll be glad if you can answer and hope you have a great day
There are 5 different "forms" of Mareks and different "strains" of the virus that are more lethal or infectious then others. It's possible for a bird to present with multiple symptoms and forms when they have the disease.
Nerve form- Birds with this form have tumors infiltrate into their peripheral nerves. This causes symptoms like wry neck and sometimes a head tilt. It can also cause a chicken to have a slow crop and have trouble emptying. 20% of birds with this form die
Transient paralysis form - Causes brain edema and ataxia. The bird can have partial paralysis of the neck and legs. Usually, you will see these birds trying to use their wings to get around while falling over a bunch. 30% of birds with this form will die.
Ocular form- The virus replicates in the eye, causing tumors and vision loss. This causes the shape and color of the eye to change. 25% of birds with this form will die.
Skin form- The virus replicates in the skin causing tumor growth and enlarged feather follicles. Usually the location for these is around the head, legs, and vent. The bird will be lumpy and might have wonky feather growth but that's usually it. This form has the lowest mortality rate.
Visceral form- Tumors develop all throughout the body and onto the internal organs. The symptoms will present differently depending on what organs and systems are affected. 60-80% of birds with this form will die.
For chickens with Ocular Mareks they are usually older birds that have a bit of an immunity to the virus which is why their body is able to kind of suppress it but unfortunately the chicken can still have tumor development elsewhere in her body especially if her immune system gets compromised by a different illness like coccidosis or fowl pox.
If your girl has the Ocular form you must assume the rest of your flock has it and it's possible for it to present as the other forms. Mareks can stay dormant in a host for a long time then pop out when the birds immune system is weakened.
For anyone reading this and getting worried..
YOU CAN TEST FOR MAREKS! A lot of people don't know you can test living birds for the disease but it can also be diagnosed via necropsy. Your vet can help you with the testing but you can also do the testing yourself using something like VetDNA.com.
To avoid Mareks you can get your birds vaccinated and only purchase from NPIP certified flocks. The vaccine won't stop the spread of the disease but it can prevent birds from showing symptoms. If you have a mareks positive flock it's important to keep them on your property and dont sell them or show them as they can infect other birds.
Good biosecurity practices are a must and the best way to prevent an outbreak is running a closed flock. No adult or baby birds are added everything is hatched and raised on the property is the ideal. Of course accidents can still happen like if you have a close neighbor with an infected flock. Mareks spreads through the dander so it's important that infected birds don't share air space with non infected birds.
If your birds do have Mareks and you want a flock that isn't infected the best thing to do is either cull your current flock, or wait for them to pass naturally. There are certain cleaners like Rescue and Kennelsol that kill the Mareks virus so you would want to clean all old feeders and waterer with it (or get new ones) and I have seen people say to burn down the old coop as it can be tricky removing the dust from the crevices. Mareks can live in the soil for a long long time but like other viruses you can still work towards sanitizing and decomtaminating the soil.
You can still hatch eggs from Mareks infected birds as the disease doesn't transfer vertically.
Hopefully this is the information you were looking for
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