#thank god I figured out how to use read more on mobile | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

exquisitesimp · 1 year ago

Text

Comforting Akutagawa during a mental breakdown

A/N: Hello to everyone reading this! I’m back at it again with Bungo Stray Dogs, more particularly the Port Mafia. In this story, the reader (F) is giving comfort and affection to her emotionally damaged boyfriend Akutagawa, after an unfortunate encounter with his old mentor figure (aku was my first love in bsd). Thank you so much for reading and interacting with my posts, it means so much to me! Stay healthy, eat well and drink plenty of water! - Sam

Tags: Bungo Stray Dogs, Akutagawa Ryunosuke, angst, reverse comfort, SFW

Warnings: mental breakdown, emotional and physical abuse, NSSI

Word Count: approx. 4.8k

It was one of these nights again; these difficult, heart-wrenching nights that constantly made you question the meaning of such a life, a life filled with pain and suffering. You’ve become a little too familiar with this feeling since you’ve experienced, well… a little too many nights like these.

“Remember what you’re doing all this for!” you exclaimed.

Except there was nobody there to listen, save for the librarian that was sick of having you be the last one to leave the library in the dark hours of the early morning for the fifth time this week. Talking to the void, maybe all that studying did drive you insane after all.

“You scared the life out of me, for the love of god!”, the lady gasped, jumping awake from the information desk. Poor her, she probably hated these nights even more than you did.

“I’m terribly sorry”, you said, chuckling in awful embarrassment.

She gave you a cold stare, which truthfully saddened you deep down, because you were under the false impression that you had bonded with the woman by now.

“Don’t look at me like that ma’am”, you said, “You know med school isn’t a piece of cake…”

“I know dear”, she responded with a certain sweetness in her voice and a tired sigh, “but isn’t it time to go home soon?”

You looked at the clock above the information desk. It read 2:45. A look of desperation channeled itself on your face as you were thinking about just how much more work you had ahead of you before you could allow yourself to go home and finally get some shuteye.

“Just one more unit, I promise!” you lied, knowing damn well that it was much, much more than that.

“Pfftt….Like we haven’t heard that before…” the librarian mumbled as she began moving around all sorts of books and paper sheets around the information desk.

Of all the times during the day she could get that taken care of, she had to do it right now? The noise she made was getting on your nerves and messed with your focus. However, you knew she was going to kick you out for sure if you dared complain about it. So you just decided to let it go, for your own good perhaps…

Resting your head which had grown quite heavy and dizzy on top of the open books, you sighed in exhaustion, waiting for the woman to stop messing with the papers and your concentration along with them. Wondering how the hell you were supposed to pass all these exams the following week, you were just sitting there, beating yourself up for always leaving things for the last possible moment. But not even a minute later, your phone, which was laying on the table, suddenly buzzed and stopped your overthinking.

It was a voice message from your boyfriend, a little smile subtly forming on your face upon seeing the notification. You’ve been together for almost a year, but the habit of smiling at his texts hasn't faded away whatsoever.

“Ma’am, can I pleeaase use my phone?”, you joked, since there was obviously nobody there to be disturbed by mobile phone usage… except for the poor lady of course. “It’s my sweetheart!”

A few moments of deadly silence followed. From the look on her face, you’d think she was finally done with your smart-ass idiocy.

“Eh, to hell with it…” she responded, having accepted — to your grand surprise — that she’d have you here for quite a while once again.

“God bless your patience! I shall treat you to a huge meal once these detestable exams are over!”, you proclaimed in comedic exaggeration, yet genuinely wanting to express your gratitude to her in some sort of way. With your late-night hypertension and your endearingly annoying sense of humor, you could imagine that having you study here all these days must have been quite a handful.

“Who said I wanted to have a meal with you?”, she shrugged and rolled her eyes.

Purposefully ignoring her rhetorical question with a smile on your face, you opened the message and placed your phone next to your head with the speaker facing your ear, the woman sighing at your shenanigan in the background.

“Hey, Y/N…”

You didn’t expect to hear Gin’s voice.

“Listen… I found my brother’s phone in a dark alley on the ground, and it’s all cracked up now, and I’m not quite sure what happened... He was still supposed to be here, but I assume there was some big trouble and he had to flee. Problem is— TACHIHARA CAN YOU JUST SHUT THE F— sorry about that… problem is I contacted our headquarters and he’s not there”

Your eyes opened wide as the message kept on playing. Two opposing forces fighting in your brain; one worrying that something terrible has happened to him, the other trying to remain cool-headed since you didn’t know any crucial details about the situation.

“My guess would be that he’s at your place. I know you have a lot of work to do in the library, but please check if everything’s okay with him. Gotta go, the Armed Detective Agency is just around the corner”

You heard the words “Armed Detective Agency” and you instantly knew what this was about.

“Oh fuck” you said out loud and stood up from your desk as if struck by some invisible thunder.

“What is it this time?”, the librarian desperately asked.

“It’s your lucky day”, you replied, packing up your bag in quick, messy movements, “I’ve got to go right now”

“Good grace”, she mumbled as she started switching off the lights to finally close the place down for the night.

“Thanks for everything!”, you shouted hurriedly, storming out of the university library and rushing to the parking lot.

You jumped in your car and immediately started the engine. You already knew by now that no encounter with the Agency could possibly be any good for Akutagawa. And this time, you had a strong feeling that something was very, very wrong.

In less than half the time it would usually take, you sloppily drove back to your apartment, very lucky that you hadn’t crushed the car onto anything on the way there. Running with light steps and pushing through your own fatigue, you finally reached the door and knocked on it.

“Sweetie?”, you called out softly.

There was complete silence on the other side, a type of silence that grew an unshakeable fear within you. After taking a deep breath, you reached for the keys in the pocket of your jacket and slowly opened the door.

You took a good look at the living room before entering, and everything was exactly the way you left it, including the little lamp you always kept switched on even when nobody was home. From where you were standing, nothing seemed wrong with the kitchen either. At first glance it all looked perfectly normal, but there was something very intuitively suspicious about this quietness that consumed the entire place.

Due to your intensive studying at the library the past few days, you ended up coming home at times like these almost every day, and you found the emptiness to be serene, and even comforting in its own way. But now it was frantically maddening, as if you’d be crazy to assume someone else was here, but equally as insane to think that you were totally alone.

You gulped as you took a few steps in and closed the door behind you, cold shivers running down your body. Only while taking off your own shoes did you look down to check if his were there, and much to your relief, they were just beside the door. You immediately felt a weight fall off your shoulders, knowing now that nobody had broken in or that you weren’t… imagining things.

You quietly made your way right in front of the shut door of your bedroom, and since you already passed by the empty bathroom, you knew that was the only place where he could possibly be. Just by standing there you felt a dark chilly aura strike you down to the bone.

Knowing about his occupation and even his abusive past, you were already aware that Akutagawa was very much capable of becoming violent. But this wasn’t the first time he went through a crisis like this with you, so you had faith that if you stood there for him once again, it would all work out, just like the previous times.

You plucked up all the courage you had inside you and knocked on the door.

“Sweetie?”, you repeated. “Are you alright?”

Once again, no answer. At this point you started getting worried. That was the only place he could be, right? Then why was he not responding?

Making the tiniest amount of sound possible, you pushed the door open ever so slightly to peek through the crack, and that’s when you saw something you’ve never witnessed before.

Although the light switch was on, the room was pitch black with only a few strands of light somehow making their way through. Sinister branches of darkness were spread all over, some intertwined with one another in an infernal veil, and others ruthlessly piercing the entirety of the space like enormous, sharp blades.

You were completely astounded. You had no idea that Rashoumon could take on such a petrifying form.

Before you could even begin to grasp the density and the complexity of what your eyes just viewed, the door was somehow explosively shut inches away from your face, causing you to gasp at the thunderous noise.

“HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE DOOR?”, Akutagawa yelled, his strung out voice echoing within his ability’s construction.

“I’m sorry sweetie”, you responded peacefully, “I just wanted to check if you’re okay…”

“What does this look like to you?” he asked sarcastically, while Rashoumon locked the door from the inside, eliminating any possibility that he’d just let you in that easily.

“What I meant is, are you physically okay? Did you get hurt?”, you asked, trying to maintain your calm composure.

“I’m intact”, he answered as if even such a small question was so immensely bothersome to him at that moment, “now LEAVE. ME. ALONE!”

“How am I supposed to leave you alone in a state like this?”

He didn’t respond, but it’s not like you expected him to. Hurt and afraid, he always hid inside his hard shell at times like this, and it took a lot of strength and effort to get him to open up to you. You took a big breath, because the difficult part was just starting.

“Your sister found your phone somewhere in the city and contacted me…”, you began.

“I don’t wanna talk about this…” he growled as rage kept building up within him.

“I know it’s difficult to talk right no—“

“THEN CUT IT OUT”, he screamed with a trembling voice and paused for a second, “before I break the door…”

“You don’t have to talk about it right now, but please just listen”.

You paused for a while to see what his reaction would be. Although he was once again mute, you were quite happy that you didn’t get smashed by the door; it meant he was waiting for you to speak.

“I know you’re not feeling well right now, and I just want to let you know that it’s totally okay to feel this way, even though I don’t know what exactly happened… I just wanted to tell you…”.

Another silence-filled pause ensured you that he was still listening.

“You did the right thing to come here, sweetie… The fact that you’re here right now means that even if you want me to leave you alone this instant, some part of you wants to find comfort here… And that’s exactly what I want to do for you right now. I just want to make it better, I promise. Please, Aku…Let me help you…”

No response.

“I’ll be waiting right behind the door for as long as you need. Please don’t break me along with it, or better yet, let me in whenever you feel like…”

It wasn’t much later that you heard the door finally unlock behind you, so you stood up, carefully opened it, and saw that your previously unimaginably ominous room was now just the way you remembered it.

Akutagawa was sitting on the floor in the corner across the room, curled up so he could take up as little space as possible. He had wrapped his arms around his knees and held them closely against his chest. His cloak was thrown over his shoulders, covering most of his upper body and his head was buried on his forearms.

You quietly approached him and sat next to him to keep him at ease. All these months in a relationship with him taught you that at times like these, he felt threatened by people sitting right opposite him, and didn't respond to them so well. He also deeply despised being looked at when he’s in such a vulnerable state, so you respected his wishes and looked at the floor, avoiding his eyes at all costs.

“Take your time, sweetie. I’m here to listen”, you said after a minute or two.

He took a big breath before lifting his head up, while you made sure to make him feel as comfortable as you could, based on his own individual terms.

“The Command Unit was sent to the center of Yokohama to investigate some strange movements in the black market… and there, I ran into that stupid weretiger...”

“Mhm hm”, you nodded as you kept listening carefully.

“We started a fight and I had cornered him in this alley… that was all until he showed up…”

“Dazai?”, you asked, just to make sure your assumptions were correct.

“Yes…” , he answered as his voice got weaker. “He nullified my ability and told the weretiger to leave, so it was just the two of us…”

You noticed it was getting harder and harder for him to speak as the conversation shifted towards Dazai. It was no surprise since he’d talked to you about him before but it was, nonetheless, upsetting to hear.

“No…”, you said, “and what did he do?”

“Well, he…”, Akutagawa said and then paused as if to collect himself, “he kicked me right below the chest and I was on the ground coughing…”

He took a breath, before proceeding to give you the rest of the story.

“And he said some things… something about the weretiger being better than me… but I’ve heard that before…”

“Aw sweetie—“

“He knows…”, he said, burying his head on his knees once again. “He found out about my disease somehow…”

When you heard him quietly weep, you moved a little closer to him, just enough so that he didn’t feel alone in this difficult, doleful moment. Before you could even begin to ask how Dazai managed to find that out, Akutagawa jumped into your arms and buried his head on your shoulder, letting his black cloak fall off his frail body.

As he did that, you didn’t fail to notice that his white shirt had bloody stains on each sleeve, a little bit above the length of the elbow. Both sides had five holes each, one for each of his own fingers that had been digging into his skin, scratching and ripping it apart.

You were so upset, but you realized that it would be no good to address it right now. So instead, you wrapped him up in the warm embrace that he desperately needed at the time.

“That lung disease you have is going to kill you soon… Maybe then, I’ll consider coming back to the Port Mafia… Such a shame that… even when you leave your last pathetic breath… there won’t have been a single moment… when you were better than my new apprentice…”

“That’s what he said to me…”, he uttered, sobbing in between these nasty, horrible phrases.

Your eyes started watering as you squeezed him tighter against you. It was beyond you how anybody could be so viciously cruel to someone so loyal and devoted, even if fate brought it so that they parted ways.

“That’s so hurtful…”, you whispered as tears were running down your cheeks. “It’s okay… Let it all out, I’m right here…”

“Why? Just why?!”, he cried in anguish, “How much more must I do? When will all this be over? When will I ever be enough?!”

You didn’t know how to respond to such questions at times like these, so you just let him lash out until he hopefully calmed down eventually.

“What am I saying? That’s never gonna happen…”, he lamented as his body started shivering, “I’m so sorry, Y/N… I’m a worthless and pathetic fool…”

“That’s not true…please stop saying things like that…”, you pleaded.

“I’m just gonna die so pointlessly… And it won’t even matter to him…”

“Well it’s gonna matter to me!”, you raised the tone of your voice, verklempt and teary-eyed.

His chest kept pumping against yours as he was struggling for breath.

“I’m so sorry my love…”, you apologized, fearing that all you just did was worsen his situation by letting your own emotions take over. He tried to say something, but in this state, coherent words couldn’t come out of his mouth.

You had to stay strong and help him during this difficult time. Right now, the situation wasn't about you.

“Listen to me, let’s take some deep breaths okay? Breathe in till four, hold till four, and breathe out till six. Can you do that for me?”

You felt him nodding yes, lifting his head up and letting his chin rest on your shoulder.

“Perfect, I’ll count: 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6…”

Akutagawa tried to follow your count as much as he could. You had to do this exercise about fifteen times before his breathing took its normal pace back. Your hand was always gently caressing the back of his head, and with every round you completed, you made sure that he knew he was doing a good job.

“I’m so proud of you”, you murmured and kissed his temple, “are you feeling any better now?”.

He nodded yes and sniffed his nose.

“Can I look at you?”, you asked.

He sighed, then nodded yes once again. Once he let go, you gently cupped his face and lifted his head up so you could look at him. His poor, restless eyes were ever so red and puffy from all the tears he’d been shedding.

“My sweet Aku…”, you whispered, “if only there was something I could do to take your suffering away… I can only imagine how terrible it feels to be treated so horribly by someone you look up to so much, to always feel like you’re the second option…”

You paused to take a big breath and collect yourself.

“And I know it’s not the same to hear it from me… but you’re always going to be my first choice… always…”

A sad, bitter smile morphed into your boyfriend’s face upon hearing these words, as if they were half-empty, not coming from a certain someone he’d want to hear them from instead.

“I’ll always be here for you… You’re my everything, my love… I love you more than anyone and anything in this world… And seeing you suffer like this… it crushes me…”

Akutagawa sat there in silence, guiltful and grey, shifting his gaze to the cold, hard floor.

“Especially this…” you said with a cracking voice, and looked at the red stains on his sleeves, “this just… it breaks my heart…”

His withering eyes were filling up with tears again.

“Promise me you won’t do it again…please…”, you begged.

“I promise…I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry sweetie, none of this makes you weak in my eyes…. You’re so strong… so much more than you think…”

You looked at him sweetly before pulling him closer to give him a soft kiss on the mouth, his lips passive, almost motionless against yours.

“Now go have a warm shower, you need to relax”, you said, getting up from the floor and offering him a helping hand to stand up as well. “Make sure that a lot of water runs over your wounds. I’ll take care of them once you’re done, okay?”

“Okay”, he answered, giving you his hand, letting you pull him up and still hold him all the way to the bathroom.

“Thank you so much, Y/N… really…”

“Don’t mention it”, you responded lovingly.

As he shut the door behind him, you immediately got this morbid feeling, this insurmountable urge to break down and cry.

You loved him with all your heart, but in comparison to even the tiniest praise from Dazai, your love for Akutagawa didn’t matter nearly as much to him. And that thought pained you so much, it cut deeper than a knife… In a way, you could even say you understood him, knowing that your one and only was gonna leave you soon, and that you’ll always come second, till the last moment… till his last moment, his very last breath…

It was all so devastating… But as you pushed the tears back, you remembered the promise that you made to yourself when you first got into a relationship with him; no matter how hard things got, you were gonna love this person as much as you could, for as long as you could… Until the very end, you had to be his pillar of strength and continue cherishing him no matter how much it hurt you in the process.

And you loved him so much, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey Gin”, you spoke to your phone as you recorded a voice message for her, “I found him, he was at my place. He’s okay, he has a few surface wounds on his arms, most probably nothing to worry about. You can let your boss and the others know that he’s safe and that he’ll stay here for the next couple of hours… And, by the way, thank you for contacting me as soon as you found his phone….Things might’ve been worse, had it not been for you… Call me if you need anything”

As you hit “send”, Akutagawa walked out of the bathroom, wearing an oversized white t-shirt and plaid black and white pajama bottoms, with the towel he used to dry his hair thrown around his neck.

“Feeling more comfortable now?” you asked.

“Yeah”, he responded.

“Good. Now come here, let me see your arms…”

He made his way next to you, letting you investigate his wounds.

“Hmm…”, you said, lost in thought, “they’re not as deep, so you’re not gonna need any stitches… but they do look a bit inflamed… we definitely need to disinfect these”

You took him by the hand back in the bathroom again, where you kept your medical kit. You grabbed the disinfectant bottle and lathered some liquid over a big piece of sterile cotton.

“I gotta warn you sweetie, this might burn a little…”

“Yeah, like I haven’t had worse– OWW!!”, he exclaimed as you pressed it against his wounds.

“I’m sorry, perhaps I wouldn’t have to do this if you hadn’t used your own hands. You were out fighting, who knows how many germs they had…”

“It burns…”, he hissed, clenching his jaw.

“Warned you…”, you responded. “You’ve never used disinfectant before?”

“Do you really think people in the mafia care to use this sh– AUGHH!”, he snarled once again as you repeated the same treatment to his other arm.

“We’re almost done now…” you reassured him as he gave you the most displeased, irritated stare.

“Hmm let’s see…” you mumbled to yourself while searching the contents of your kit, “I don’t have big enough band-aids for this… guess we’ll have to cover them with something else…”

You opened up two bandages, and with a little hesitation, Akutagawa let you wrap them around his arms tightly.

“All patched up!” you said, giving his boney shoulders a light squeeze, “Is there anything I can make for you? Anything to eat? Some tea maybe?”

“No, I think I’m gonna throw up if I do…”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that… Okay then, I think we should go to bed and get some rest, no?”

“Yeah…”

After you changed into your pajamas and brushed your teeth, you made your way into the fluffy futon and scooched over for Akutagawa to join you shortly after. While he is generally the quiet type, this time you could tell that he was way too tired even for the short-lived, yet endearing small talk before bed.

“My eyes hurt…” Akutagawa murmured as he slid next to you.

“I know, sweetie…Come here…”, you said, lifting up the cover and inviting him close to you.

Your boyfriend found his way into your arms again, his tired head buried in your chest and his thinned body clinging onto yours, the entirety of his being searching for warmth within your embrace. The comforting motions of your hands caressing his back and the sound of your heartbeat was everything he could ask for at the time.

“Feels like you’ve lost more weight…”, you pointed out as you grazed your fingers over the prominent parts of his skeleton, “Have you been eating well lately?”

“Mm-mm”, he shook his head no after a short pause, as if to adjust his thinking to your own standards of self-preservation. To him, if he made it out alive at the end, what was there to care for?

“Well that’s no good…I’m making you fluffy pancakes and your favorite tea in the morning”, you said knowing that, being starved of affection almost his entire life, he found these simple acts of kindness to be a huge deal. His contentment was clear as day, flowing through you as he pulled himself closer, practically sealing shut whatever space there was between the two of you.

“Thank you…”, he purred against your chest, the mere sweetness of his adorable reaction leading you to plant gentle kisses on the top of his head.

“Anything for you sweetie… I just want you to take care of yourself. Undereating can’t do any good to your condition… And I want to keep you around as much as possible, make as many happy memories together as we can…Like that time when you took me to dinner with the mafia for the first time and Higuchi kept warning me not to hurt your feelings or ‘I’ll be dead’...”

“Tsk, that piss-off…” he mumbled in a mix of displeasure and nostalgia, getting annoyed just by remembering the event, but being strangely happy that he got to experience it with you.

“It made me very happy that you apologized to her…”

“After you told me I was acting just like him, I had no choice…”

“And I’m so proud of you for that, sweetie…” you whispered, running your fingers through his hair

“I still remember when we had Gin and Chuuya over for my birthday and we played that drinking game he had suggested. I’m pretty sure at some point he stopped caring about the rules and started losing on purpose…Ah, what an iconic day…Oh, and that day when I first told you that I loved you…Hahah, you were so awkward whenever I told you that on the phone. It took you a couple of weeks before you were brave enough to say it back to me... But it’s okay, I’m not blaming you, it’s most wise to wait for the time when you are a hundred percent sure that you feel the same way for me… Hey, what about the day of our first date–”

You’d been talking for quite a while now, vocally walking down memory lane, too absent-minded to notice that Akutagawa was fast asleep by then. Your melancholic monologue got softly interrupted by his faint, quiet snores.

“Aww of course. I almost forgot how easily you fall asleep whenever I start rambling like this…”

You slid your hands under his shirt and felt the soft skin on his back. His hold on you was more relaxed, but far from apathetic, as if what remained of his slowly melting tension was love, and only love.

You smiled, feeling infinitely blessed that your boyfriend was there with you, that you were listening to his slow breathing as he was drifting somewhere far away. Your eyelids had been feeling heavy for a while, but before you joined him, you wanted to get some things off your chest; somethings you truly wanted Akutagawa to know, even though you knew that he wouldn’t hear much of it in his sleep.

“Aku, my sweetheart… You are worth so much more than you think. You are enough— no, you’re even more than that… And I wish I had the means to show you just how much you mean to me… Oh, if only I could make you feel even half of my love…”

A/N: Akutagawa cried again in the middle of the night, but didn’t want to bother Y/N with his feelings any further. He removed the bandages because anything that reminded him of Dazai, he couldn’t have on his body. After Y/N found out, she apologised for her ignorance and made him the most delicious fluffy pancakes.

308 notes · View notes

girlfriendsofthegalaxy · 5 months ago

Text

tuesday again 6/25/2024

i played a game that is not genshin impact!

listening

paige kennedy's lingerie model. the line "cause i'm a little rat boy in the body of a lingerie model" startled a laugh out of me. off the discover weekly playlist.

youtube

reading

thank you philip.

Johnny Guitar by Roy Chanslor, on interlibrary loan bc i was hoping reading the book would kickstart my long-planned fic based on the movie. surprise! wildly different book i read in one sitting! the locations, most of the characters (except most of them are much younger) and who's on what sides are essentially the same, but everything else is different!

there are five whole women in this thing, which is a staggering number for a western. i don't know that i have a clear idea of what this book is trying to say about Women in general or specific. i've just been kind of rolling it around in my head for a while. once i figure out what i want to say about this book everyone better watch out

watching

borrowed my best friend's husband and their disney plus account to watch a lot of star wars. we certainly had a lot of thoughts about the show Ahsoka but none of them were particularly complimentary. it's dave filoni playing the fucking hits. would you like some wolves and some owls and people having bad feelings and recreating the training session on the millennium falcon from ANH? would you like some fairly lackluster lightsaber battles? would you like the least interesting concept of a waiting room/purgatory/underworld you've ever seen? this is a show where we meet Anakin again and TRAVEL TO A DIFFERENT FUCKING GALAXY, the BIRTHPLACE of some WITCHES. can we be a little bit excited about new things please??? please?????? we are so very bogged down in cutting back and forth, bc god forbid everyone be in the same place at the same time, that we get only the tiniest glimpses of fun new places. show me the places. stop giving me medium shots of people yapping. easily three quarters of this show is filmed from the waist up or closer. what fucking gives. if i really really wanted to scratch the itch of a worrisome legacy and lost love and slightly weird student/teacher dynamics i would go read a contemporary literary novel. show me the interesting parts of star wars and not just the fanservicey callback parts please thanks

we did have a lot of fun with The Acolyte, which genuinely does feel like a breath of fresh air. most of the dialogue is extremely bad, which is sort of par for the course for a star war, but the gleeful jumping with both feet into some real melodramatic weekly serial/space opera tropes!!! much more interested in playing with a heightened narrative/playing with narrative at all, unlike ahsoka which is more focused on filling in a little blank spot!!! witches here also!!! the GOOD TWIN and the EVIL TWIN, several inventive assassinations, the CLEARING of one's NAME, a cursed planet, some fights that feel like they're playing with samurai movies and westerns in a fun new way instead of reminding me of a better thing i could be watching. thank you im eating this with a spoon. many people are very mad about it bc the protagonist is black and perhaps not perfectly straight. the public says this star wars is bad, bc of woke and bc of cliffhangers. i think this one is fun actually so far!!!

playing

Freshly Frosted (2022, Quantum Astrophysics Guild). free on Epic rn and quite honestly this should be a self-care/old people brain plasticity phone game. why it is NOT on mobile is beyond me. why it is on SWITCH is also beyond me.

it did make me miss a novelty doughnut and coffee mini local chain in the five college area that has long since gone under. one of my therapists used to have an office above one of their stores and i used to go to a class at smith on wednesdays, go to therapy, and then jog for the half hour bus back to umass, reward doughnut in hand.

it opens with a soft-voiced woman telling you about how she likes to decompress by laying in a field and imagining a donut factory in the sky. she gives encouraging little tips and "hey! be nice to yourself!" throughout the game, but mostly at the beginnings of levels and introducing new mechanics. there are, perhaps, overly plentiful achievements.

there are a dozen dozen levels and i played through the first three dozen, or the first three boxes (normie don't draw over your line, multi track drifting, merging paths). i once had a level correct and then hit undo out of indecision and the tutorial lady told me "“You had it, click the undo button in the top right to undo”. which i don't believe i've ever seen in a game.

i stopped at the third box bc there’s a universal order to ingredients (always frosting then sprinkles then whipped cream then etc) but it does not ever tutorialize that it will only put the next ingredient on if the previous ones are fulfilled. like this was the level i figured this out on.

on further levels in this box i was not thinking super hard about what the actual order was and i couldn't really tell you how i solved a particular level except for making sure every possible path existed. maybe this gets super wild in later levels idk but three dozen levels was enough of a novelty for me. if i may be a little mean to a perfectly fine game, it feels like a coding bootcamp project in the way it steps through its logic and introduces new mechanics.

making

cross stitch update. i don't believe this will be done by my brother's birthday

#tuesday again #tuesday again no problem

25 notes · View notes

thewertsearch · 2 years ago

Text

FCG: LET'S CHANGE THE SUBJECT, WHAT WERE YOU ORIGINALLY GOING TO ASK ME. [...] CGA: Is Magic A Real Thing

Magic is tricky to define. Personally, I’d consider a fictional phenomenon to be ‘magical’ if the story ignores any scientific principles which may underpin it. If the story presents a phenomenon as something that doesn’t need to be explained to the reader, then that phenomenon is, or may as well be, magical.

FCG: WE CAN ALCHEMIZE PRACTICALLY ANYTHING WITH THE RIGHT MATERIALS AND GRIST. FCG: WE CAN, AND DID, MAKE SUPER POWERFUL WEAPONS AND ITEMS THAT CAN DO PRACTICALLY ANYTHING. FCG: WHAT ADDITIONAL ADVANTAGE COULD MAGIC OFFER? ALL THIS SHIT IS PRACTICALLY MAGIC ANYWAY. FCG: BUT MORE LIKE FCG: GOOFY SCIENCEY MAGIC. YOU KNOW?

So I agree with Karkat - and actually, I’d go even further. Sburb’s basic mechanics aren’t practically magic - they are magic.

That’s not to say these mechanics have no rules. Alchemy is well-defined, and I can happily theorize about it - but the comic will probably never explain how an Alchemiter creates matter from nothing. That’s magic.

CGA: I Need To Figure Out A Way To Stoke This Volcano CGA: In Case You And The Others Are Successful In Recovering The Queens Ring

What, are you going to pull a Frodo?

Oh my god, you are!

So that’s what the Forge does. It probably melts it - and given that this is the Forge, the metal is probably used to make something else. Raw material for the Ultimate Alchemy, perhaps?

CGA: Still Baffled By What Would Conceivably Cause Such A Crisis In Awesomeness Post-Victory FCG: WELL FCG: FOR STARTERS FCG: HAVE YOU SCROLLED UP TO THE TOP OF THE TIMELINES YET?

Whatever this is, it takes place hours in post-session Karkat’s future. After a certain point, Trollian completely flips out, and refuses to load anything past this position on the timeline.

The simplest explanation, of course, is that there’s nothing to load.

I prefer the boots, but that is pretty sick. I award it second place on the podium of Sburb mobility devices.

DRAGONSPRITE: sniff sniff DRAGONSPRITE: hey terezi! DRAGONSPRITE: heeeeeeeyyyyyyy! DRAGONSPRITE: hiiiiii terezi!

The intelligence of a sprite is proportional to its ingredients. Dragons are typically rather clever, but this one is just a wyrmling, so she’s probably comparable to Jaspers.

If sprites age, that could change - but I’m not sure she’ll have the time. The trolls’ sprites are conspicuously absent from the Veil.

CG: OK I GOT YOUR MESSAGE CG: THANKS FOR NOT HASSLING ME ABOUT IT IN ONE OF THE MEMOS TO GET MY ATTENTION, I APPRECIATE THAT. CG: UNLESS YOU DID, BUT IT WAS IN A FUTURE MEMO I HAVEN'T WRITTEN YET, IN WHICH CASE HAVE A BIGTIME FUCK YOU ABOUT THAT IN ADVANCE. [...] GC: M4YB3 1 W1LL ST4RT MY OWN BULL3T1N BO4RD GC: 4ND 3V3RYON3 W1LL B3 4LLOW3D TO R3PLY 4NY T1M3 TH3Y W4NT GC: 3XC3PT FOR GUYS W1TH NUBBY HORNS, OH NO, TH3Y W1LL NOT B3 4BL3 TO R3PLY 4T 4LL

These two are pretty messy, but here’s my full read.

I’m fairly sure that Karkat was referring to Terezi here. He has a flushed crush on her, but her personality mildly annoys him sometimes. His irritation, paired with his genuine attraction to her, is confusing him, making him wonder if this is actually a blossoming kismesissitude. He’s therefore started forcing himself to insult her, even in places where it doesn’t naturally fit.

You see in the paragraph above, where he sincerely thanks her for her tact, and then immediately pivots to flaming her for potential rudeness? That’s clumsy pitch flirtation, from someone whose heart isn’t really in it.

Terezi, meanwhile, is harder to crack. I’m pretty sure she’s attempting both pitch and flushed flirtation, but I can’t tell what she actually feels. She definitely likes Karkat, but I don’t know what direction. There’s a decent chance that she just doesn’t know herself - which is, if nothing else, pretty realistic.

CG: THIS IS AN EMPTY THREAT, BECAUSE IF YOU MADE A BOARD AT ANY POINT ON THE TIMELINE I WOULD BE ABLE TO SEE IT RIGHT HERE AND READ THE WHOLE THING ALREADY. CG: WAIT... CG: OH GOD, YOU ACTUALLY DID.

C’mon, dude, you know her better than that!

#2567 #homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5 #s47

136 notes · View notes

the-cult-of-riley · 9 months ago

Text

Sleeping With Ghosts (Act One: Chapter Twelve)

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Female OC

[[Masterlist]]

A/N: Thank you to those who have liked the story so far, I appreciate you all so much.

Nine Inch Nails - Home

Everything

Is catching up with me

I awake

To find I'm not at all where I

Should be

And it feels

I'm getting to the end

And it's hard

To figure out what's real, and what's

Pretend

To break from what we're tied to

God knows how much I've tried to

And I am still inside you

I escape

Every now and then

And to think

I find myself back here again

And again

I used to know who I was

Until you came along

I return

To the only place I've ever felt

That I belong

To break from what we're tied to

God knows how much I've tried to

And I am still inside you

He was fucking miserable. Being overseas was never really a chore for him, if anything, he loved it more than being stuck on base running drills. He loved the thrill of being in combat, loved flexing his skills, loved the way his blood pumped faster though his system. Made him feel alive which wasn't a feeling he was used to. But now Charlotte existed in his life and he'd felt alive since the moment he laid eyes on her. Now it was different. Now deployment didn't just mean action and combat, it meant being away from her.

The hardest part was the lack of contact. She'd sent him some letters and he'd sent some back, but waiting for a fucking reply took forever and they were seldom allowed to use phones. He'd had one phone call with her and it had been painful to hear her sniffle down the phone as she told him she missed him. He'd wanted to take her mind off it and also needed a distraction himself from the heavy shit he was faced with on deployment, so he'd asked her to read to him. She'd picked her Grimm's fairy tales, Little Red Riding Hood to be specific. It wasn't his phone, they weren't allowed mobiles here and so he couldn't speak to her for as long as he wanted. Now the letters were all he had to look forward to.

He had to admit it felt good though, this was his first deployment where he actually had mail. He didn't have to watch on the sidelines anymore as all his squad mates got letters and packages and he got fuck all. Those letters meant the world to him and each one was stored under his mattress. He was sure she was spraying them with her perfume because each time he opened the fucking envelopes he got smacked in the face with her scent and it hurt and comforted him all at the same time.

Fuck, he missed her. He missed her to the point of it being pathetic. He couldn't wait to get back to her, to just lay with her and breathe her in. It wasn't just the sex he was missing and the absence only made that clearer for him. It was just her. Her smile, her laugh, her sly cheeky comments when she had a bout of confidence, her blush when she was feeling shy, how she devoured her bacon butties like she'd never eat again, the way her face lit up every time she saw him, how she felt all warm and soft in his arms. He missed all of it.

He was lay miserably on his cot as the squad had some down time. While the others seemed to appreciate it, he didn't so much. It just meant more time to think, to dwell on the gut wrenching yearning he felt for his girl back home. His CO came through the barracks, calling names and chucking out letters. Simon sat up eagerly, hoping he'd get something as he watched others be handed their post.

“Riley!” The man called out, tossing the letter to him and Simon caught it easily. He ripped the envelope open, once more engulfed in her scent as he pulled the letter out.

Simon,

I hope you're doing okay over there. The apartment’s not the same without you here and I can't wait for you to get home. Only two weeks left, at least when I'm writing this.

It's really boring without you here to keep me entertained. I've been talking to the succulents, I read a study once that talking to them helps them grow better or something. Or maybe I'm just losing my mind all on my own. Sylvie took pity on me. I didn't think I was so obviously miserable but apparently I'm not a good actress. She's been making me eat a meal at work before I go home. She said she was worried I won't feed myself since you're gone. I'm sure she thinks I don't know how to cook and that you're the one that feeds me. I do prefer your bacon butties though.

All your shirts stopped smelling like you now. I debated whether or not to break into your place to steal your aftershave. That was a joke by the way. I don't want you thinking I'm a crazy girlfriend. Not yet at least ;)

I really can't wait for you to get back. I feel like a broken record because I keep saying it, but I miss you. I might just have to take the day off when you get home so I can just cling to you all day. I've been distracting myself with more artwork when I'm not working. I just finished a really nice landscape piece based on Clayton Vale. I'm pretty proud of it. Have you ever been there? I know Clayton isn't the nicest place to live but I grew up there and the Vale is so pretty. I used to forage blackberries when they were in season when I was younger. If you haven't been, I should take you sometime.

I can't believe it's been almost half a year since I've seen you. It's insane. It feels like it's dragged by so slowly yet gone by in the blink of an eye. This is probably the last letter you'll get from me. By the time you get this and then reply, you'll be on your way home.

Make sure you stay safe out here, I need you to come back to me. Who else would I annoy all the time if you were gone?

Charlotte

He smiled to himself, almost being able to picture her as she sat there scribbling the note out for him. When he'd first gotten here, part of him had been worried she'd tire of his absence and move on. She hadn't though, of course she hadn't. He realised quickly how loyal she was and he really couldn't wait to get back home.

It was odd to him really, he'd had an epiphany while out here. Home wasn't his apartment, nor was it really Manchester. Home was with her, wherever that might be. He'd never felt so strongly about anyone before and it was something his brain was coming to terms with, being in love. Made him feel like an entirely different man sometimes but he didn't think that was a bad thing. He moved to grab a pad and a pen, sitting up in his cot as he started penning a note back to her. His stomach clenched in anticipation, knowing when she read this he wouldn't be far behind.

Hello love,

I fucking miss you. Hope that's not too sappy to say but it's true. Been weird for me here because I've never really had anyone to miss. Not anyone that wasn't family and not this intensely.

I'm glad Sylvie is looking after you though. Nice to know someone's got their eye on you while I'm not around. I'd love to see your artwork someday. You've not shared it with me yet but I'm eager to see it. I know they'll be beautiful. I've never been Clayton Vale but I've been by it a fair few times. I'd love to go with you someday.

Next time I'm on deployment I'll make sure to give you the whole aftershave so you don't have to worry about the shirts. I wouldn't mind stealing your perfume, although I do appreciate the letters smelling like you. Can’t wait for the real deal though. I don't think I've ever been so excited to get off deployment before. I get two weeks off after this too so I can't wait for us to spend time together. We should have some bacon butties and a good cuddle.

I won't say too much more because I'll be with you real soon. Just make sure you look after yourself, yeah? I can't wait to see you, love. Hopefully I won't be deployed for a good while after this. Being away from you for so long has killed me.

I'll see you soon, sweetheart,

Simon

He grabbed an envelope from the pile where the others were also writing their letters, scribbling her address on it before he folded up the letter and put it inside. The closer he got to going home, the more anxious he got. The home stretch. He really couldn't wait to finally be back with her.

To say he was eager would be a gross understatement. He was practically buzzing with the amount of energy he had, despite being absolutely fucking knackered. Of course with his luck, the taxi driver was taking his time. Something that was a rarity in these parts, but since he had somewhere he desperately needed to be, it was taking its sweet time. When the taxi finally pulled up outside of the florists, he chucked the man his money before he hopped out. He’d almost come right here but he wanted to shower and get changed into something more comfortable, settling on black sweats and a black long sleeve t-shirt. The September air was starting to get a bit colder now and it was a far cry from the severe heat he’d experienced only the day before.

His usual routine when he got home from deployment was to go and see his mum first, but he’d called her this time, wondering how he was going to let her down because he really needed to see Charlotte before he burst. His mum was onto him though, telling him before he could get word out that he better be going to see his girl and not to bother with her.

“I’ve had enough of your mug anyway, Simon,” she’d told him affectionately. He appreciated it. Without a guilty conscience weighing on him, he’d been free to go running off to Lottie as soon as he’d gotten changed.

He finally stood at her door, checking his watch quickly to make sure he hadn't turned up here while she was still at work like a right numpty, it was a Thursday after all. It was 7.30 pm so he knew she’d be home. He inhaled a deep breath, his stomach feeling like it was plummeting right out of him. He wasn't used to such a sensation and his hand went over his stomach for a moment as if to steady it.

His other hand came up to her door, knocking firmly as he stood fidgeting. The door opened and there she was in all her glory, in her pyjamas which meant his shirt and a pair of shorts and her hair tossed up haphazardly on the top of her head. She was fucking beautful. Her eyes widened when she saw him, a beaming smile overtaking her face. He hadn't told her he was coming back today because he’d wanted to surprise her.

“Simon!” she cried out happily, throwing herself at him. He caught her effortlessly, wrapping his arms around her tightly as a hand came to cradle the back of her head. The relief he felt was maddening. Like an addict getting their fix of heroin after six months of going cold turkey. He physically felt his muscles unwind, the weight of the world leaving his shoulders as she melted into him.

“Fuckin’ hell, I missed you, love,” he breathed, pressing his nose into her hair and inhaling deeply.

“I missed you too,” she replied, her voice muffled because she pressed her face so much into his chest, he was sure she’d break through his ribs. They stood in her doorway for a long while, just holding each other and now he was here with her, the tiredness started to take hold of him, the adrenaline wearing off.

As if sensing his growing tiredness, she pulled away, leaning up on her tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. She went to move away but he grabbed her, one hand on her hip, the other gripping her jaw as he deepened the kiss. He felt like he was taking the first sip of water after a trek in the desert. She moaned into the kiss, her hands grasping at his top as she allowed him to devour her mouth. He couldn't help it, he'd missed this more than he could ever put into words.

He pulled away, his heart hammering away in his chest and making him feel a little light headed. She gave him a pretty smile that made his knees weak and he brushed his nose against hers. He hadn't expected her to tear up at the small motion but that's exactly what she did. He decided that seeing her tearful was the worst thing in the world.

“Hey, love. What’s wrong?” he asked gently, brows furrowing as he stroked her cheek.

“I just… I missed you,” she whispered and it made his pathetic heart squeeze tightly.

She'd said it so sincerely and it left no doubt in his mind that she'd missed him as much as he'd missed her. Maybe even more because he'd been overseas surrounded by people and she had no one other than her brief interactions at work. He'd already felt like he was going mad over there with how much he missed her but if he was stuck here alone like she'd been, he was sure he would have completely lost it.

“Well I’m here now, yeah? You got me all to yourself for two weeks,” he murmured, hoping to lighten her spirits a little. It worked as she gave him a teary smile, leaning into his hand. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before guiding her inside and she went willingly.

“Are you hungry?” she asked, wiping at her eyes and seemingly putting herself together.

“I could eat,” he confessed. He was really fucking hungry if he was honest but he’d just turned up out of the blue, he didn't want to pressure her into feeding him.

“Bacon butties and a cuddle?” she asked hopefully and his mind flashed back to his last letter to her. All of hers were now safely in a box at his apartment. His heart softened as he looked at her, an affectionate smile curling his lips.

“Sounds like heaven, love,” he smiled and her eyes brightened at his words.

“You sit down and rest,” she ordered, giving him a peck on the cheek before she pushed him towards the couch and flit off to the kitchen area.

He did as he was told, shattered from the journey home and the hard times he’d had while away. Her couch was comfy, so plush it felt like it was swallowing him when he sat on it. It was a far cry from his cot back overseas or the hard ground. He eased back into it, eyes closing for a brief moment as he allowed himself to fully unwind and decompress.

“Simon,” Charlotte’s soft murmur had him opening his eyes, seeing her standing in front of him with a plate of bacon butties. He frowned in confusion, he’d only closed his eyes a second ago.

“What…?” he mumbled, blinking rapidly and glancing at the clock.

“Sleepy head,” she snorted, rubbing a hand through his hair sweetly. He grabbed the plate with one hand, the other rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry, love,” he frowned. She sat beside him, grabbing a butty from the mountain on the plate.

“Don’t be, I know you must be tired. We can eat then get in bed, cuddle and just sleep all we want. I’ll book the day off tomorrow,” she smiled up at him.

The idea of just cuddling in bed with her sounded amazing and he shot her a tired smile before starting in on his food. He really had missed this, even if it was such a simple thing. It almost felt like it was their thing, something they shared from their first morning together. When they’d eaten their food, she grabbed the plates and took them over to the kitchen area.

“Get ready for bed, Si,” she ordered softly as she started to quickly wash the plates. The casual use of his nickname made his heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird. His lips quirked up a little but he didn't say anything, didn't want to point out she used it and have her get flustered and not use it again. He liked the familiarity it brought with it, liked the feeling of them growing closer. She was his and he was hers.

He took his shoes off, setting them neatly by the door before he made his way to the bed area, peeling off his shirt. He placed it on the dresser, his eyes being drawn to a card on the nightstand.

“What's this?” he asked, picking it up before she replied. It was a birthday card. It had a dinosaur on it with the phrase: ‘Wishing you a rawr-some birthday!’ He opened it, looking at the writing inside.

“To Charlotte

Happy Birthday. We hope you have a nice day.

Lots of love

Sylvie and Jeff.”

He furrowed his brows, turning to look at Charlotte who was walking over, a guilty look on her face. She took the card and set it down, unable to look at him and he suddenly felt like he’d swallowed a fucking boulder.

“Charlotte… When was your birthday?” he asked slowly and she shifted on her feet.

“August 31st,” she murmured contritely. His brows furrowed even more, glancing from her to the card and then back to her.

“Why didn't you say anythin’? I woulda got you a present, got it delivered while I was away,” he couldn't disguise the hurt from his voice and she winced. He hated that she was alone on her birthday, that all she had to show for it was one measly card off her boss. It made him sad and suddenly, he felt like the world's worst boyfriend. But how was he to know? She hadn't said anything, not in any of the letters or the one phone call.

“I didn't… I didn't wanna bother you while you were away,” she admitted, wringing her hands.

He blinked at her for a moment, trying to ignore the burning in his chest. He wondered if she’d ever shake that feeling of being a burden to those around her that her parents had instilled in her so early on in life. It broke his heart that she thought so little of herself. He shook his head, cupping her cheeks and forcing her to look at him.

“I don't know how many times I gotta say it, Lottie, but you're never a bother to me. Your birthday is special to me because you're special to me,” he insisted. He watched as her brows pinched together and she licked her lower lip. She had that look on her face again, where she wanted to argue with him because she couldn't agree with him on this, but choosing against it. Smart girl.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed. He kissed her temple, his thumbs stroking her cheeks before he let her go.

“I wish you could see what I see when I look at you,” he murmured sadly. Her cheeks turned pink and she looked away, uncomfortable with the attention. He took pity on her then, he wasn't here to push her boundaries or make her uncomfortable.

“Come on,” he ushered her into the bed and she climbed in, shuffling over so he could get in beside her. He lay on his back and he opened out his arm for her. She scooted over instantly, laying her head on his chest with her arm around him and he wound his arms around her, one hand going to her head and rubbing her scalp soothingly.

It was such an amazing sensation to be lay with her like this again. Such a simple comfort in his life but one he'd never take for granted. They lay like that for a bit and he felt his eyes getting tired again. He really couldn't believe he'd missed her birthday, it left a really bitter taste in his mouth. He pictured her coming home from work on her birthday and spending the night alone. How fucking depressing was that? He might not have been able to be there with her, but he could have at least sent her a gift so she knew he was thinking of her. Hell, he'd have begged his CO for a chance to ring her just to wish her happy birthday.

He blew out a sigh, holding her closer before planting a kiss to the top of her head. There wasn't much to be done about it now and he didn't want it to sour his mood at being back. He allowed himself to relax with her, to enjoy that he was finally with her again. No amount of perfume on letters would ever top the real thing, though he had appreciated it at the time.

“Thank you, love,” he murmured sleepily as his eyes fluttered shut.

“What for?” she asked quietly, sounding tired herself as she lay completely relaxed against him as if she were made of liquid.

“Bein’ here… bein’ you. I’m just glad I have you to come home to,” he admitted, feeling a little vulnerable with the amount of emotions he was feeling. He really wasn't used to all this. He felt so much and had no idea what he should divulge and what was better to keep to himself. He felt her smile, her cheek pressing against his chest and she snuggled into him more.

“I’m glad I have you too,” she replied softly and his lips tugged into a sleepy smile.

It was mad really, how being with her like this made everything alright. His tormented past didn't matter, the horrors he faced overseas didn't matter. None of it mattered when he got to come home to her and have her in his arms. He remembered when Tommy had deduced that he loved her and he had been confused. Part of him felt like that had to be what he was feeling because what else could it be? But he'd never had this before, love didn't come easy to him even when it had come from his family. He'd never had actual feelings for other people before. Hell, it had been hard enough conjuring up some lust for his one night stands in the past.

Lottie though, she was something else entirely. He'd felt something so visceral from the moment he'd laid eyes on her and it had only continued to grow with time. He'd never been one to believe in love at first sight. In his head, how could you fall in love with someone when you didn't even know them, by just looks alone? Yet hadn't that been what happened to him? He'd been sitting at that bus stop, minding his own business when he was suddenly struck with Cupid's arrow and his entire life hadn't been the same since.

Laying here with her now after six gruelling months without her, he knew the feeling that lay deep in his chest and he knew it without question. There was nothing else it could be. He loved her, without a doubt. It was a scary realisation to have because love could get you hurt, yet he couldn't muster up enough to care about it. He was happy for the first time in his miserable life and he didn't want that to change, didn't want that feeling to end.

He knew if he was ever without Charlotte, his life would go back to being cold and meaningless. He'd go back to being a soldier and nothing more. A hollow empty shell of his former self. He'd do whatever it took to keep her by his side because he needed her like he needed air to breathe or blood to keep pumping through his veins. She was his air, she was his blood, she was his everything. She was his reason to be here, she'd given him a reason to feel alive and he wouldn't take it for granted.

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x oc

7 notes · View notes

carmenized-onions · 2 months ago

Note

hi i’m thinking of starting a tumblr for the bear and i have a few questions i hope you can help me out with them😭 how do you change the send a message thing on your profile like you have one saying tell me something good, how do you do that?😭 i’ve been trying to search how to do it and so far i haven’t found anything😭 i wanna learn more tumblr formats like this, where did you learn it from? i’m so sorry for asking so much i just really admire your blog!🥹 thank you for reading this🫶🏼

this is a great question and can i be honest to god i don't know. well, scratch that, i kind of know.

for the very literal tutorial, on changing your little 'ask' titles 'n shit, you goooo

to your blog settings! looks a little different if you're on mobile, but same gist.

as for like, hey love the format how'd you figure that out? sort of just like. regrettably. i have been on this hellsite for like ??? 10 years or more? So at this point, I just kinda know a lot of formatting things at this point.

If you look for like, screencaps on tumblr or on google, that helps with the whole look, like:

considering changing original cover btw, how y'all feel about that?

I use Canva to pop the text on and shit, but maybe you just want the photo!! idk!! then there's the little:

these are called dividers, if you look 'em up on tumblr, you'll find a bunch of lovely artists making them for free !!! very epic!!

is there anything else i do that's interesting format wise? i don't think so. my overall advice is to just fuck around in your blog settings and find out weird shit you can do!! good luck love!

#yapping #anon ask #onion advice?

4 notes · View notes

asksoldieron · 1 year ago

Text

SO-12: The Spirit of Harpo Marx

If there's a lot of engagement on this, this post is liable to get real long, beware before you expand.

Welcome to the Engagement Lounge, for Alight at the Window (SO-12) an instalment! Short comments can go in the replies, but there's a 475 character limit. Longer ones will need a reblog. Remember to @asksoldieron if you're reblogging someone else's reblog, so I can see it too!

Awwwwww, ya know? Awwwwww ❤️!

Poor Erik is in ⚡🔋no shape🔋⚡ to communicate, but he's doing his best. Maggie has no idea whether he's messing with her on purpose, or what's wrong with him, but she won't let him go. They'll get to him eventually. (I've just finished that part, actually. They've got him! Uh. Sorta. At least he's... safe now? 😅Oh, I can't say that with a straight face.)

This is the last of my queued posts/instalments, and I have no idea where my reading and drawing ability will be when it goes live. If I can't update you on my condition (and the condition of the next six instalments) I'll hafta have the spouse type a note for me. I want to do six more right away, or I might take a two week break, or - if I'm really struggling - it'll be a break of indeterminate length. I hope I'll be okay to just keep going, my Patrons have been so patient this year. Thanks, y'all.

But, either way, there will be a break at some point, because I'll have a while where I can't write or draw and that's going to eat up my backlog. Also, recent updates have done more stupid things to my theme and I think the site needs a redesign - maybe including some radical simplification. I'm just not mobile friendly and I can't make the current format behave. People with better eyesight than me do a lot of reading on their phones.

I have no idea how to build a community and I'm flailing, really, but maybe if I can get the interface more convenient, more people will like me? (I have no idea. Probably they won't.)

Look, though! You've got some extra art to tide you over! And a song!

I'm not in love with how Erik's design looks right now - he looks like a train wreck, but he should look like a train wreck. Nobody is going to fix his hair. I still feel self-conscious about it. He used to be cute. I've got to do a full-body rendering of how he'll clean up, but I don't have time for it now.

However, I did do a page of something trying to get comfortable with his ability to emote in train reck form. I don't have time to finish it, but I think it looks cool so I'm sharing.

This is potentially a way for me to serve you the music without lyric backgrounds that you can't read! It's very labour-intensive, but I was figuring out how to do it and it might get a little easier with practice. Also, my current tablet is struggling with the resolution and I plan to update it by the end of the year - depending on sale prices.

After I saw Hedwig and the Angry Inch, I found out the original Off-Broadway incarnation had filked music with lyrics by John Cameron Mitchell. 🥹😊I'm calling it! This is something other people sharing my identity do to tell their stories! Filk musicals are an enby thing! We do not give a shit about the music industry's copyrights! I'm performing nonbinary correctly!

So here's the lyrics again, and maybe I'll give you the rest in comic form as my vision and my tools improve.

You Are Found! (based on "We Are Young" by fun.) I need a minute, I… I don’t know if I’m ready yet I’m tryin’ to get my shit together, Maggie, please don’t be upset My family must be looking for me somewhere very near Guess I knew you must be coming but I can’t believe you’re here, and… It’s been forever since I’ve seen your face I know you want to take me home But although it hurts to do this work they need my help for what it’s worth — Oh, gods I’m not sure if I wanna go So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand, You’ll steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down No, I wanna go home I’m just not done I guess that I, I just hoped We could visit and I’d get right back to work But I can’t go yet So I must forget 'Cause I think you’ll hafta steal me away At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Steal me away at last (na na na na na na) Come steal me away at last (na na na na na na) The gods have their own plan (na na na na na na) But I’m just one weary man (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away at last (na na na na na na) I have so much to do (na na na na na na) How can I go with you? (na na na na na na) So you're gonna hafta steal me away (na na na na na na) At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down At last I am found So I guess the party’s over Time to get sober, and come down So maybe if, next time you see me, You can take me by the hand You’ll steal me away at last

See you soon! Ha, I hope!

Late edit: Two week break, folks. No drawing ability yet, so we're stuck with it. I still hope to get you the next six by the end of the year. I'll keep you posted!

[Back to Site?]

#tin soldier and soldier on #instalment #engagement lounge #music #covers #comic #lyrics

5 notes · View notes

prettymvgic · 8 months ago

Text

my rules ; again, temporary until i figure out how to make them mobile friendly !

first of all, hi, i'm cici and thanks for taking the time to read these and wanting to write with me ! that means a lot to me. first things first, i do not tolerate any hate whatsoever. take your homophobia, your transphobia, your racist, your sexist ass off my blog. there's no room for you here !

now that we've taken care off that problem ...

i. i want to start out first with activity on both sides. i am the most RELAXED, most patient person - i do not care how quick or how slow you respond. i understand that as adults we are busy, we have real lives. i also understand that the muse isn't always there. so please never feel rushed and i hope you can treat with that same leniency.

ii.dropping threads is completely fine ! i don't mind it at all. if you just wanna message me and start something new, great ! if you don't feel like we are compatible enough to be writing partners - that's okay too. you are not pressured to write with me and please don't feel bad about it either. things happen, muse changes, and sometimes things just don't work out ; that is okay !

iii.i personally don't have any triggers ; when it comes to writing i stay pretty opened minded. with this being said, i do write some darker themes that others might not approve of, or might trigger others. i will tag everything properly when those types of writing arises. however, please do not shame me for what i write ; that will be an immediate block. i do not write smut, nothing against those who do, i personally just SUCK at it, i am god awful with detail and better with dialogue so smutting is not for me, i will be fading to black.

iv. banned fcs ; the only persons i don't have anyone that i won't write against ( except predators obviously ) but there are a few that i might be selective about : taylor swift, madelyn cline, olivia rodrigo, & cillian murphy. i may add to this list, but i hope not. i don't really try to ban any fcs because i feel like i'm here for the story not the faceclaim you're using.

v. sorry plotters ! i am more of a wing it type. send me whatever you're in the mood for and i'll reply. i feel like plotting really bores me. some pieces of the story, sure, but to plot the whole thing?? it just makes me feel like i'm writing it twice and i get bored very quickly so send me something random ! vi. i am a white female who does use faces of people of color. i educate myself every day to make sure that i don't write anything offensive or stereotypical. if something in my writing offends you, please, please come to me and let me fix it. the last thing i want to do is offend or hurt anyone !

that's pretty much it for me. i don't really have anything else but i'll add to these if i need to, please don't make me.

#my rules #prettymvgic #* & ooc : cici rambles

3 notes · View notes

corpsoir · 2 years ago

Text

lore dump about the sailor trio because i keep thinking about how they met lovart, sorry for no read more im on mobile ajfjwjwkhash

skagen is such a rude little shithead to people he doesnt know yet. mostly its because he thinks its so difficult to get to know new people to the point where he often thinks its easier to keep them on arms length from him by being rude or not talking at all

he grew up with solvei so that was never a problem between them, they know each other better than themselves sometimes. solvei can always tell what skagen is thinking and vice versa; they work together really well thanks to this

when they first met lovart skagen was prickly and grumpy as always, but he quickly warmed up to him when he noticed they actually have a lot in common and lovart wasnt pushing him into getting to know him

and while solvei was cheerful and sweet as ever and took lovart's phone number just in case they would need his help again, skagen didnt do it and lovart didnt offer it because he figured skagen wasnt interested in keeping contact anyways.

UNTIL the little green haired loser turns up at his workshop again with another torn sail, asking for help with it and staying for a little while. lovart offered him fika (coffee, pastries and a casual chat) and skagen hesitated but decided it could be worth a try.

which it was, because he quickly grew completely enamoured by lovart's mannerisms and the way he talked about his work and life in general. others might find the way lovart talks (quiet, a bit slow, hesitates a lot and stumbles on his words, sighs A LOT) annoying or frustrating but skagen finds it incredibly endearing

and when skagen heads home again, lovart texts solvei something like "i thought your brother hated me, but he even stayed for fika. i fixed your sail again, it should be fine but if it breaks again i'll fix it for free"

solvei of course thinks thats very funny because 1) skagen and solvei arent siblings but she thinks its funny that others assume so and 2) "oh my god is skagen willingly getting to know a new person?? i should call the press"

this turns into skagen using förutan vind to blast his sails with wind until they break, bringing them over to lovart just to hang out more, and lovart poorly fixing the sails in order to have skagen return with them again. he does it all for free because of course, and they both are very aware of what theyre doing. its all very silly, and sometimes skagen brings over clothes that have torn apart and lovart gladly helps him fix them as well.

solvei follows along a few times but quickly leaves them alone because she sees right through their silly charade

at some point during all of their silly meetups about the sails it turns into skagen and lovart cooking dinner together one afternoon and they both end up confessing their feelings for each other, and while lovart is fixing with the food and has his back turned to him, skagen quickly gets his phone out to text solvei like "sol i think i have a boyfriend" and she immediately responds "YOU JUST NOW REALISED?? well im happy for the both of you, can you stop destroying our sails now PLEASE"

#sorry i had to get this out of my system HABDHQBFKDDBBDB #I JUST THINK ABOUT THEM SO MUCH #AAAUGJFJGKGFJFBDJHDHDHD im normal about my characters #skagen gipp #lovart sjöberg #solvei stiltje #corps.oc

25 notes · View notes

alexanderlightweight · 2 years ago

Note

Hello! First of all I want to say I love your work!

I just saw your post about some entitled person complaining about you not using readmore (if I got it right?) and

1. People need to remember that they are able to turn off long post/turn on long post shortening in their settings on mobile so they're really just being rude about something that they can do something about on their own end

and

2. We can actually use readmore on mobile! You just need to type :readmore: in a new paragraph/line and hit enter! Just in case you ever do want to use it, but quite honestly? You do you and if people can't deal with how you do it then thats their problem, they do have options if it bothers them :3

Anon, you and another anon are just the sweetest people who both are trying to help me with this and let me just say, i appreciate it so so much. I have now somewhat figured out the mobile readmore though i need to fix it as i got it wrong a couple times.

But honestly, your reassuring me that i can do what i want on my blog is just, really soothing for my anxiety. so thank you a lot!!! because my brain likes lying to me and sometimes it's easier to believe someone i haven't met than the people i live with.

you 100% got it right. tbh it was just them replying to a fic i really enjoyed writing with a 'use a god damn read more' and nothing about the fic or anything else. which like, if you don't care about the fic and just the length of my posts please block me?

and tbh if it hadn't been so rude or distressing i wouldn't have been so upset. it's just, i only even saw the comment by accident (my notifications are horrible about telling me when someone has replied) so i kind of freaked out because how was i supposed to know it was even a problem for people?

i would have been happy if they'd asked me without swearing or been demanding in an ask and it would have been fine if they'd used anon if they didn't want me to know who they were. and then my bf took over because my social anxiety got triggered and just blocked them and talked me down from my 'omg i'm triggering people to the point they're upset at me and im a terrible person' mental spiral that i fell into. and i'm sure the person didn't mean to trigger me, but i do talk pretty openly about my anxiety on here so saeth agreed i should write a post about how not to request things. so that i can at least say i tried if this happens again.

also they're blocked and i didn't respond to them or call them out because 1) i don't need more negativity/they don't deserve access to me/my stuff and 2) they could have just been having a really, really bad day and they don't need the guilt of knowing they sent someone into a triggered anxiety spiral and almost made them stop writing an entire fic. or the stress of being 'called out'. it's healthier for both of us to just not interact at this point, i feel.

and while bad days doesn't excuse being shitty to other people ever!!! i personally just hope they find their equilibrium and learn better coping mechanisms and how to request things. but its also not my problem to fix, hence why blocking.

thank you for the care and the compliment and just reaching out! sorry i kinda ended up rambling because i'm still a little anxious about the whole thing and how i handled it

lumine

#lumine talks to ppl #lumine answers asks #lumine has five flavors of anxiety and none of them are tasty

8 notes · View notes

vvatchword · 2 years ago

Text

So I have been writing BioShock fanfiction since the second week of November and I have not stopped. And I mean. I have not fucking stopped. People think I have died. My mother has called me absolutely frantic on more than one occasion because I have stopped looking at my phone and cut off 90% of social media. I wrote 43,000 words in two weeks during November and I wasn’t doing NaNoWriMo.

So you should know if you haven’t been my friend for over a decade: back in 2010 I started working on a BioShock 2 fix-it. And two years, 38 chapters, and 250,000 words later I looked at it and realized it was complete and utter bullshit, then cried for a week and played sad Minecraft and debated whether I should continue writing at all. I even considered deleting the whole thing.

Jesus, I’m glad I didn’t.

I looked at it again last year around this time--just out of morbid curiosity. Most of the novels I wrote between 2008 and 2018 were just... jesus fucking christ. So fucking bad. It’s not uncommon for me to start one of them just to start squashing down into a Shame Puddle. But this thing? There was something so good twinkling in there. Something real and sad and full of yearning, something that ALMOST captured what I find most enchanting about BioShock as a series.

Anyway, I just want to leave this small note here for Future Self, who will definitely be intent on beating up Past Self: remember that you wrote something like 20-22 novels in that ten-year period and honestly? Thank god. Thank god you were okay with sucking for an entire decade. You figured it out. I mean, sure, it took us an unbelievable amount of time but I feel like we flopped out onto a mountaintop, sat up, and were like: wait. Wait a fucking second. How did I fucking get here? I mean I’m very glad I’m here but what the fuck?

It turns out that writing constantly, finishing all kinds of bullshit, being okay with being shit, not taking myself all that seriously, and suffering incessantly are the magic ingredients. So you did good Past Me. Good. ILU.

Anyway. I’m at 166,000 (acceptable) words and this shit is turning into something magical. I kid you not. It’s like magic. It feels like I’m unfolding an endlessly complex vista, and woven throughout is every heartbreaking expression of every agony I’ve ever wanted to scream about, and at the same time it’s full of how much I love human beings.

Of course, I feel like I should just be honest and admit that I just wrote the hottest fucking sex scene I’ve ever done and I’m now furious about it because the story is NOWHERE NEAR finished and I still have to read SO MANY BOOKS and research SO MUCH BULLSHIT so no one is going to be able to see it and maybe it’s not really that good anyway because I’m almost certainly in a honeymoon period. And also maybe I’ll die before I finish it. I hate feeling like I’m sprinting Death. We all know who wins, it’s just, can u just not for like,,,,, three years or so

Anyway, there are five parts. I’m working on the Topside part right now. The character I had thought was milquetoast has turned into something truly special and now I’ve got some Grade A Commentary going on.

Oh, another reason nobody is going to see this: while I’ve been just coasting along doing fuck all, the Internet has turned into Two Acceptable Ratings: G–PG-13 and NC-17/MA. So not only am I going to write something for a nearly-dead fandom, I quite literally have almost nowhere to post this fanfic now roflllll fuck everything

But since I’m nowhere close to being finished, and that’s a case of counting eggs before they hatch, I’m trying to focus on building the Story Bible and reading. The best thing about building a story is the part where you read All the Things and watch All the Documentaries. I’m going to parse the mobilization of America in WW2, research How to Psychiatry in the late 1940s/early 1950s, look up what richies wore in the late 40s/early 50s, and re-read Ayn Rand. I nearly asked you to pray for me but then I realized we should really pray for her because she’s dead and burning in hell if there’s a god. Actually we shouldn’t pray for her as she and her lackies are why we live in substandard hell now. What did that guy on TikTok say? “These people make me wish we could livestream Hell on Twitch”?

#storysnob #bioshock

3 notes · View notes

a-moment-captured · 9 months ago

Note

I haven’t seen you mention your son in a while! Or your niece and nephew! How is the baby doing? They are just so cute and you are such a good mom and aunt! I just went to make sure you know that! From what you have said about your son’s Autism, you opened my eyes and I know so many others so thank you babe!

Awwwwwwww! Thank you! I needed this!

Coit is doing a lot better now that we have a better hold on his anxiety. It was getting to the point that he could barely get thru a day at school. I had a full on breakdown about it and thankfully @heavyhitterheaux was the voice I needed of reassuring that I wasn’t a complete failure as a parent. It’s hard to watch your child struggle and you can’t instantly fix it it! But things have been so much better! He has so much stuff he is accomplishing in cub scouts and I’m so proud of him!

Addy is just Addy! Always perfect! Girl has straight 100s right now in language arts, science, social studies, and math. She just did a dance clinic and performed at a college basketball game halftime! Still doing great in dance classes! She was moved up from 8U to 10U in softball due to size and ability! Still doing her best at cub scouts too!

Noah? Noah is Noah lol! Always the comedic relief we need! He has been rocking his reading lately and just dressed up as Pete the Cat(and read me a whole Pete the cat book) for book character day at school. He had an amazing first season playing basketball! Will be starting baseball practice next week and doing great in cub scouts!

Dakota, our princess, is growing non stop! She is the center of our lives! She is starting to say more words and become more mobile! She is trying hard to crawl! I remind my sister every day that every baby is different! When she starts, God help us because that girl is going to be a handful! She will be our destructive one for sure!

Between working weekends 2-3 times a month in the ED(right now I’m grateful to be PRN), figuring out a school schedule that will work for me when I start, the kids and the millions of things they have to do, and keeping Dakota during the day has me exhausted! I’m ready for a vacation!

1 note · View note

rcreveal · 10 months ago

Text

Run! They think we're their Valentine!

Summary:

For Sendarya's Discord Writer's Group Prompt a week 2024 Prompts:1)Valentine's day, 2)oysters, 3)"Should I say 'thank you?'" Need a palate cleanser before your next course of creating and reading Aziraphale and Crowley romantic fluff? This one is rated Teen for innuendo and states of undress. Readers have called this fic 'hilarious' with an unusual premise. This is set shortly before the Antichrist arrives on Earth in S1 when they are still more "working acquaintances". Something odd happens on Valentine's Day, and they do not care for it! How can they escape from... .

Work Text:

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Crowley hurried down the Soho streets trying to take advantage of every bit of cover. They saw him anyway. His only hope was to keep moving until he could make it to Aziraphale’s bookshop.

Not surprisingly, the door was closed and locked. Very surprisingly, it wouldn’t budge when he tried the doorknob. He rattled and cursed, growling, “Aziraphale, don’t do this to me,” and pulled out his mobile to call the shop. He heard the phone give his special ring through the windows, but there was no tread on the stairs, no one shifting up from a comfy chair. In desperation, Crowley tried both blessing and cursing the door into opening. Nothing.

“They’re coming,” he moaned, looking around with a hunted expression and dashing into the alley.

Trying to find the deepest, darkest shadows in the alley, cursing so angrily that he’s literally spitting sparks of fire, he hears a voice issuing from the fetid archway he’d been wanting to hide in. Figures.

“Crowley, is that you? Please tell me it’s you!” Aziraphale sounds desperate, and well he might, outside on this of all nights.

“Angel! Why aren’t you in your shop!? Why did you bloody well lock me out!” Crowley rages, as quietly as he can.

“ I didn’t lock you out! I’m locked out! What are you doing out tonight! I was going to try and make it to your place and beg for shelter!” whispers Aziraphale.

“Can’t get in there, either. I’m locked out of my flat, too! And before you ask about the Bentley, it’s locked in the underground garage. Which I also can’t get into,” Crowley snarls in frustration.

“Oh God, they’re coming, Crowley, what do we do?” Aziraphale looks to the mouth of the alley in something like terror.

“Let me think, let me think!” hisses Crowley.

Two unlikely groups rounded the corner at the same time. Suddenly, their dark refuge felt illuminated…because a building light that had been broken for thirty years miraculously restored itself over their heads.

‘ Oh damn, here it comes,’ thinks Crowley.

“Hey Ginger, give us a try! We’ll show you a good time! Nobody wants to be alone tonight!” catcalls a man detaching himself from a group of leather clad bikers, sauntering down the alley towards Crowley.

At almost the same moment, “Hey Angel! Be mine tonight. I’m pure…mostly,” a woman with a fake halo and wings in a skimpy white dress and 4 inch stilettos starts stalking down the alley towards Aziraphale advancing out of a group wearing similar attire, some with little toy bows and arrows.

The humans, locked onto their selected target, only seem to see one of them.

“I cannot live through another 1969, Crowley, I just cannot ,” begs Aziraphale.

“We said we’d never speak of it!” Crowley shudders. “Is there a back way out of the alley or up to the roof?” but he already knows they’re trapped.

“We have to do the thing!” urges Crowley.

“It won’t work!” moans Aziraphale.

“At least try, Aziraphale! Anything is better than a repeat of 1969!” Crowley implores.

Just before the humans reach them, Crowley and Aziraphale grab each other and yell, “He’s my Valentine!”

With an almost audible pop, the biker and the woman in the angel costume stop, bemused, taking in the two men clutching each other. The woman pouts a little but seems to notice the biker for the first time, looks at him from the poured on leather pants up to the tight undershirt. This must be the fellow she was so intent on.

“Hey, you fancy taking an angel for a ride, love?” she propositions.

“Thought you’d never ask, pet,” he holds out an arm and helps her back to the two groups, who have suddenly become one group.

“Come on!” Crowley says, head up and smiling brightly as he feigns an easy saunter up the alley. He whispers to Aziraphale, “While they’re confused we can get out of here. But whatever you do, DON’T LET GO OF ME!” Crowley leads the way through the humans at the mouth of the alley, keeping his arm draped around Aziraphale’s shoulders while Aziraphale wraps his arm around Crowley’s waist.

Out of the mob of humans, Aziraphale can still feel the tension Crowley is trying not to show while he saunters through the neighborhood. Aziraphale isn't doing as well hiding his nerves, scanning every face, feeling every glance as they clutch one another for protection.

Crowley spares a vengeful thought for whatever happened around forty or fifty years ago. Humans, whose gaze usually slid off them, could suddenly see them for the demon and angel they were on Valentine’s day. But instead of running in terror and awe, plugged them into their own personal fantasies and pursued them relentlessly! Even worse, if the besotted humans caught him or Aziraphale, the humans could sometimes roll them under the Valentine’s influence like some horrible fey glamor to act out those fantasies! Even their miracles were blocked unless they followed a Valentine's script. In short, being on the street on Valentine’s evening created an almost 100% chance of ending up somewhere… unexpected.

Walking arm in arm, fewer people are taking an interest now that they seem to be together, but a few start to tail them anyway with that dreaded look in their eyes.

“Quickly, buy me flowers!” suggests Aziraphale, glancing over his shoulder.

Passing a corner shop with a wall of fresh blooms, Crowley selects a dozen red roses, and miracles a 50 pound note, to pay the shop keeper.

“Happy Valentine's, keep the change,” he says to the pleased shop keeper as they keep moving.

To Aziraphale he says loudly, “For my Valentine! A token of my affection!”

“How lovely they are, dear Valentine!” Aziraphale hams it up.

Looking like he’s coming in to peck Aziraphale on the cheek, Crowley presses his lips next to the angel’s ear, “We have to get off the streets! Can you get us a table somewhere suitably couplish?”

Aziraphale announces, “We don’t want to miss our reservation for our intimate Valentine’s dinner, my dear!” and tries to hustle them down the street, but not before two befuddled humans start to cross in their direction.

“Swingers at 9 o’clock! Put your hand in my pant’s pocket,” Crowley orders, then jumps nearly a foot in the air, “My back pocket, you idiot, my back pocket!” while putting on a fake lecherous smile, “Not here, Valentine! You get to have me all to yourself later tonight!” which sends off the hopeful couple.

Aziraphale steers them down a side street, “We’re almost to the restaurant!” They walk up to a brightly painted little cafe and duck into a dim interior lit by candles on every table. The waiter seats them at an odd little corner booth, which forces their feet into a tangle, but at least they don’t have to manufacture a way to keep touching. After pouring cold, flat water into their glasses, the waiter inclines his head and says, “The first course and pairing will be out shortly, gentlemen, please enjoy this perfume and pheromone mixture to set the mood,” spritzing them both full in the face before they can duck or refuse.

Blinking and wrinkling his nose, Aziraphale turns over a hand inscribed card at the table.

“A lover’s banquet!

Seven courses and wine pairings to enliven the senses and invigorate the evening!”

Shaking his head, as he reads over the angel’s shoulder, Crowley intones, “This is bad, angel, this is so, so bad.”

“We can do this, Crowley! Just don’t lose your nerve on me!” Aziraphale whispers, hand gripping Crowley's arm, forcing a smile.

“But all the wine! And I won’t be able to sober up quickly until tomorrow! You know that,” on Valentine’s, Crowley can neither hold his liquor nor say no when anyone offers it. A state that leaves him open to…influences. His eyes are swiveling in panic behind his glasses. Feeling Aziraphale’s hand on his knee, he freezes, locking his eyes back on the angel.

“That couple was thinking of asking us over,” Aziraphale raises an eyebrow, “Just keep your eyes on me, Crowley. You’ve watched me eat for years.”

Mouth suddenly dry, Crowley grabs a sip of water, before the first course descends onto the table. ‘ Oysters. Of course, the first course is oysters, ’ well, might as well try and do it properly, he picks up an oyster, taking care to brush the angel’s fingers with his own and keeping desperate eye contact through his sunglasses.

After the second wine pairing, the rest of the dinner was hazy for Crowley, with the waiter, damn him, topping up the wine glasses with every course. Other patrons are enjoying Aziraphale being even more obvious in his sensuous appreciation of every delicacy than usual (he can’t help it, it’s Valentine’s, thinks Crowley muzzily). Despite their attempts to act completely enamored with one another, other couples start to send them things: extra oysters, couples massage vouchers, keys both personal and to hotel rooms. With distant, tipsy horror, Crowley watches Aziraphale’s hand descend into the pile of offerings at the end of the meal and extract a hotel room key and the massage vouchers, bestowing a radiant smile on the group before scooping Crowley into the hollow of his arm and steering his stumbling feet outside. “Hold on a little longer, we should be able to hail a cab now!” Aziraphale whispers kindly, throwing out his hand only to overbalance slightly since he’s partially supporting Crowley and none too clear-headed himself. Thankfully a cabbie pulls over immediately. “Please take us to this hotel,” Aziraphale shows him the room key, and the cabbie remarks, “Nice place for lovebirds such as yourselves.” Aziraphale, smiles in relief, he’d been worried that the cabbie wouldn’t be able to read the hotel name until they’d been to the massage parlor. Holding the massage vouchers up to his uncertain vision, he sees that the vouchers are from the same hotel.

No one looks at them askance for arriving arm in arm without any luggage, though the bellhop discreetly takes the 100 pound note from the fair haired fellow with instructions that they not be disturbed with the promise of 200 more pounds if he can accomplish that feat all night, with the exception of the couples massage which should arrive “with alacrity”. The bellhop opens the door of the suite displaying an enormous bed on which lays a white faux fur coverlet strewn with red rose petals. He also demonstrates the workings of the advanced sound and television system, the jacuzzi, and the location of the champagne in a large ice bucket. Pointing out the heavy turkish cotton ankle-length robes, he promises the two masseuses will be up in the next 20 minutes.

“Quick, Crowley, take off your clothes and put this on!” tries Aziraphale, less tipsy than the more slender demon.

“Uh-uh, angel,” Crowley weaves towards him, shaking his finger, “ I have to take off yours and you have to take off mine! ‘S the Valentine’s thingie…rules,” he pats the angel’s chest and takes off Aziraphale's long coat, “But we don’t have to be uncivilized about it. Whereza wooden butler thing?” finding one behind him when he looks for it. Trying to untie Aziraphale’s bowtie, Crowley finds his fingers too clumsy for knots. Improvising, Valentine’s style, Crowley finds the end of the bowtie with his teeth, and tugs, slowly undoing the knot, “But not too civilized!” he winks at Aziraphale’s sharp intake of breath. Aziraphale recalls that the drink and the Valentine's compulsions are making Crowley erratic now. Tomorrow morning, he’s likely to be embarrassed and resentful. Quickly, Aziraphale starts undoing the buttons of his own vest one handed while fumbling with Crowley’s belt, to stave off whatever Valentine induced methods he might try next.

The belt distraction works, just like when he’d grabbed Crowley’s knee in the restaurant, Aziraphale sees him shake his head in confusion, frowning slightly, trying not to fall over. Crowley puts one hand to his head and the other on Aziraphale’s shoulder as Aziraphale quickly eases Crowley’s tight pants to the floor. Their shoes already came off at the door. Coming up swiftly, Aziraphale slips the shirt and jacket over the demon’s head, catching Crowley around the waist as he overbalances away from the quick move.

“Should I say thank you?” Crowley asks quietly while he takes off the angel’s unbuttoned vest and tugs the shirt over Aziraphale’s head. Aziraphale, gives him a sympathetic smile, then says more loudly, “For that? Wait until you see what else I’ve got planned for you, Valentine!” Crowley mouths, ‘ oh, right ’ manages the slacks reasonably well, after nudging the angel onto the loveseat, then is surprised into exclaiming, “Savile Row Victorian unmentionables! Oh you are so lucky to be in here with me! There are some quarters where you wouldn’t be able to keep the humans off with a sharp stick!”

“They’re comfortable!” Aziraphale explains, “We can take our own underthings off,” he cautions, holding up a hand.

“Only if we show off the goods while we do, angel!” Crowley demonstrates, taking off his black undershirt and underwear only to pose dramatically with his back to the angel like some classical Greek statue, albeit one that is prone to tipping over.

“Lovely, dear boy, and you’d still be much admired at the Roman baths,” says Aziraphale, glancing at him, while slipping out of his undergarments.

“You and me both, angel. I have to cover you up, tho’. Masseuses coming and all that,” Crowley wraps the plush robe around the angel.

Aziraphale flourishes the other robe over Crowley’s shoulders and looks up at a knock on the door.

Tying the belt, Crowley says, “It’s just the masseuses,” and saunters unsteadily over to the door to let them in.

Two massive gentlemen, looking rather like WWF wrestlers but in khakis and matching polo shirts, wait in the hall carrying massage tables.

Aziraphale says brightly from behind a frozen Crowley, in whom imminent threat is causing instant sobriety, “Hello, gentlemen! Would you be able to do a brisk Turkish massage?” the dark heat in their eyes fades and the taller fellow, he must be 6’8”, replies, “My great grandpa used to talk about the massage you could get at the Turkish baths. The nearest thing Jasper and I can do is a sports massage with interfascial release. Would that suit you gents?”

Crowley finds that he and Aziraphale have drifted together and Aziraphale is whispering urgently into Crowley’s ear, “I have no idea what he’s talking about, do you?”

“Yes, that would do us a treat,” Crowley says with only a frisson of trepidation.

From where they’ve been helped into the loveseat after the massage, independent movement being more of a theory at the moment, Justin brings them both large vitamin waters, “You really shouldn’t drink any alcohol after a massage like that, gents. Just stick with the vitamin waters and don’t operate any heavy equipment for several hours.”

“Oh, and the jacuzzi is probably not your friend at this time,” Jasper rumbles from where he’s wiping down and folding up the massage tables.

Crowley miracles another couple of 100 pound notes from his robe pocket and passes them over while taking Justin and Jasper’s cards.

“Excellent work, gentlemen! Your great grandpa would think it was 1871. No fear, message received! Stay out of the jacuzzi and no more alcohol tonight!” as the door closes behind the two men he lets his head fall back on the loveseat. “That was a stroke of luck! Massages, jacuzzi, and bubbly sorted.”

“How many more hours?” Aziraphale asks plaintively with his head propped in the corner of the loveseat and one arm calculatingly draped towards Crowley as he sips his vitamin water.

“It’s early yet. Nine or ten hours?” Crowley holds his bottle to his forehead before taking a large gulp while Aziraphale turns on the TV. It really is an enchanted evening if the angel can work a remote, thinks Crowley darkly.

“A romantic movie? What’s ‘Notting Hill’ like?” asks Aziraphale.

Scrambling for the remote, Crowley says, “YES! Quick, pick that one before something else presents itself,” blessedly the light romcom actually starts playing instead of so many other movies that could have come on.

Tilting his head, Aziraphale says, “Those people from 219 are coming back, persistent, aren’t they?” as the movie gets going.

Crowley replies, “Little blighters are watching for the bellhop to move on. Uh, try light-hearted banter about the movie, like: ‘Did you ever consider Notting Hill for your premises?’”

“Nooo, too far away from the City,” Aziraphale replies. “Soho just has that certain something.”

With a wicked grin, Crowley banters back, “Color, a lot more color.” Carrying on like this throughout the remainder of the movie, they feel other besotted humans diverted away from their room.

“There’s nothing for it, Crowley. We have to go to bed,” Aziraphale announces, turning off the telly before another show queues up. They both look over the back of the loveseat at the king-sized monstrosity still strewn with rose petals as though it’s some sort of trap. A discrete and thoughtful basket of ‘items’ sits on both nightstands.

Crowley rubs his eyes, having taken off his sunglasses during the movie. He makes a strangled sound in the back of his throat before putting his head in his hands, “You know we have to do something vigorously on the bed,” then he sits up straight and looks wildly at Aziraphale, “How’s your Shakespeare?”

“Reasonable. Why do you ask?” Aziraphale replies.

Crowley takes his hand and draws him over to the bed, stepping up onto the broad surface like a stage, passionately intoning, “Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo?”

“Oh, good thought,” Aziraphale shakes out his sleeves, and warms up his voice.

“It is the east and Juliet is the sun!” proclaims Aziraphale.

Then sotto voce to Crowley, “Less projection and more intimate intensity. The iambic pentameter is calling in the Royal Shakespeare patrons!”

Crowley, sotto voce back, stares at him, appalled, “How many humans are after us in this hotel, angel!?” Seeing Aziraphale’s pained expression Crowley starts to jump lightly on the bed, shaking himself out for the performance, and, incidentally, producing a suggestively rhythmic creaking from the bedframe. “Ok, ok, we’ve got this.”

Holding nothing back from the performance of the star crossed lovers, their words are inaudible outside the room, but their sighs, exclamations, gasps, and set changes when they move on and off the bed and loveseat apparently pass muster. The physical contact required by the play doesn’t hurt, either. Finally, panting in an artfully entangled heap, rose petals streaming from them like the lovers’ heart’s blood, they wait for their pulses and breathing to slow down again before cracking an eyelid.

Looking up at Aziraphale from where his cheek rests on the angel’s chest, Crowley asks, “Do you think it’s safe to go to sleep now? I’m knackered.”

“I think so,” Aziraphale senses around, “But best sleep nude, just to be on the safe side. Are you going to shower first?” he asks, even while moving towards the bathroom.

“You go ahead. I’ll get this mess sorted first,” Crowley downs some more vitamin water and starts to return the ravaged bed to something with bed clothes that can cover them properly and pillows that are only at the head of the bed.

Aziraphale finds Crowley already asleep when he comes out of the bathroom swathed in huge towels and steaming. Considering how well things have gone thus far, it would be a shame to have someone sneak in on them now. Rummaging in the bedside table for reading material, he’s encouraged to be able to produce something suitable from his own shop. As he settles down to read love poetry and ��watch his Valentine sleeping” Aziraphale smiles to himself as the couple in 219 finally give up and go to their own bed.

The next morning, Crowley wakes but keeps carefully still with his eyes closed on finding himself nude in a strange bed the morning after Valentine’s, again. Then he hears the page of a book turning and opens his eyes to see Aziraphale reading a small, antique volume, "The Collected Love Sonnets of William Shakespeare” while drinking tea from a room service cart. Crowley sits up and looks hopefully at a French press and a couple of covered plates.

“You’ve got pajamas on!” he points out, enviously.

“Hotel pajamas are allowed the next morning while our clothes are being cleaned and pressed. Your pajamas are hanging up in the bathroom,” Crowley’s robe is laying across the foot of the bed.

Crowley rolls out of bed to get up, Aziraphale glances over to see the demon’s back dotted with rose petals. “Um Crowley, you’ve got rose petals on your…”

“If rose petals are the only thing that I've got stuck to me the morning after Valentine’s, I’m ahead of the game,” he says over his shoulder while putting on his robe and padding towards the bathroom, firmly closing the door behind himself. Aziraphale, returning to reading Shakespearan sonnets, raises his eyebrows and intones, “ Strewth, ” considering some of the post-Valentine’s mornings they’ve had.

Sauntering back to the vicinity of the room service in a set of his own black silk pajamas, apparently miracled out of his flat, Crowley stretches himself into the love seat and gratefully sips on some excellent coffee.

“I haven’t been locked out of my place in years, you?” says Crowley.

“Last year I let it be known that I was out of the country that week and hid in the basement for the night of. The pressure must have built up,” remarks Aziraphale.

Waving a croissant with a bite out of it at the angel, Crowley says, “Yeah, but, all things considered, we got out of quite a tight spot last night, by being…you know.”

“Each other’s Valentine? Yes, it could probably use some refinement next year. And maybe if we set it up earlier the humans wouldn’t be so hard to deflect!” Aziraphale is getting that, ‘up to something’ look.

“Are you thinking, what I think you’re thinking? Crowley asks the angel, dubiously.

“Would you be my Valentine again next year?” asks Aziraphale, brightly.

Crowley, considers for a moment, “Yeah, sure, but do me a favor. No oysters, okay?” he begs, extending a hand.

Aziraphale tries to nod solemnly, as they shake on it, then claps a hand over his giggles and chuckles until tears stream out of his eyes egged on as Crowley starts to laugh along with him.

Thank you for reading! Your comments and kudos make my day. If you enjoyed this fanfic, there's more at my Master List

#good omens fanfic #short one shot #fluff and humor #valentines day #no smut #aziraphale and crowley are friends #not what i expected #promptfic #ineffable friends #good omens aziraphale #crowley good omens #aziracrow #through the ages #canon typical behavior #pre antichrist

1 note · View note

dailyaudiobiblechronological · 11 months ago

Text

1/3/2024 DAB Chronological Transcription

Genesis 8 - 11

Welcome to Daily Audio Bible Chronological I'm Jill. It's a joy and honor and what a privilege it is to be here with you on your journey through the word of God in chronological order. we're going to do it every day until we get through this year together, and get through the entire Bible in a year. You're on a roll you made it two days and you've shown up for the third and that is to be commended. if you are journaling as we talked about yesterday with your questions with your thoughts with maybe different themes that come up for the day or through an entire chapter. I want you to write these three words down right now, simply Begin Again. perfect timing with the music, simply Begin Again. and you can highlight it, you can darken it, you can put cute little asterisks by it this should be at the Forefront of your Journey Through the Bible, simply Begin Again. if you get lost, if you fall off, if life happens and you get just overwhelmed and you lose your way, don't throw it all away, simply begin again. no matter where you are and the journey of being in the word, and no matter where you are in the Journey of life, simply Begin Again. Now let me just expound on that a little bit further what that means. in the sense of reading the Bible is don't go back and try to make up 2 months, if you lose your way start with the day that it is when you come back to your journey, and the reason being, is it's so much easier to just get back in sync with where we are rather than trying to play makeup because makeup usually often doesn't work out. and it's just good intentions so simply Begin Again, under the terms of the Bible, begin with the day that it is today, but on a more far grander scale of life, it doesn't matter who you are where you've been what you've been through whose you are, you are welcome here no matter how lost you've been. no matter how lost you potentially get, you can always come back to this place and you can always simply begin Again. we're continuing in the Book of Genesis today reading chapters 8 through 11, and this week we're reading the New International Version, Genesis chapter 8.

Commentary

I think it's worth noting today that we see the first established Covenant between God and Noah. as we moved through this story of Noah, the flood, the devastation of humanity, at the work of God, but the saving of a man and his family who God found righteous in his sight. We will see other covenants established pretty quickly here in the Old Testament. and again don't get lost on the genealogy, it all builds and it's all telling a story within a much bigger story. and then finally we are introduced to Abram and Sarai. and they're going to become quite prominent figures in our story as we move through the word.

Prayer

Jesus thank you for this day. Thank you for this time. Thank you for being with us. thank you that whenever we lose our way, we can simply Begin Again. we can get back on track, we can turn from One Direction and go in another, if we need to. and so I thank you for that Grace and that Mercy that we'll see all throughout your word. I pray this now in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, amen.

Announcements

Daily Audio Bible, That's home base. you can check us out if you haven't. take a look around. That's also the website. If you would like to partner with us, we thank you so much, each and every partnership furthers the mission of the word of God going forward, so thank you so much. if you are giving my mail DAB PO Box 1996 Spring Hill Tennessee 37174, or you can utilize the give icon on your mobile device. If you need prayer, if you'd like to pray for someone utilizing your mobile device, you may call 800-583-2164. That's going to do it for me today, I'm Jill. we’ll turn the page together tomorrow. and I look forward to it as we begin a brand new book of the Bible and pause in Genesis for a little bit. until then, love one another.

Community Prayer Line

DAB family business, Just got to work, week I'm just praying that you are doing well. I know your family is doing well and their health is doing well and that your spiritual life is doing well because that's the big thing that can affect everything. It's okay with everything else, but spiritual life can affect everything and I'm not here to preach. I'm just here to talk and what I want to talk about is I'm a little bit sad today December 31st and I had a tough year and 2023. I had a tough year I lost a I lost somebody and it hurt me a lot so I come here today to ask for prayer, not that I might get I actually know what let's do it I pray for Joy bomb of mine light up my own personal sky that may make me be able to light up other people's life and other people's perspectives and other people's situations. that I may be a joy to be around not just a happiness but enjoy to be around. I also have a podcast that I would like that to grow speaking about growing that's sort of my word for the year personally and I'm excited to grow hopefully not in the Weight Wise unless it's like good weight. but anyways I need it as much as always do so just left me up with my family up with my girlfriend They might not have too much of a mess to pick up after the end of the year all right bye love you prayer for Jennifer you called regarding Jacob we'll continue to pray for him LOL it's the best place to be even God when we most need your help Father I come before you to this top Jennifer the god that cancer has spread the name of Jesus please give her a long life please start to me healing her life give your Victory father visit her right now it doesn't mean why I pray alongside others there would be anything wrong father because you are a god miracles you are a God who cares and who loves us you are a God who heals us yes yes you are father and we believe that with all our hearts and we trust your word can you say when we trust you you will keep us safe father I ask you that you keep her safe father and that you please guide the doctors specialist for peace your garden in their lives and Vicky oh God and continue to touch Jacob father God thank you Jesus in the name of Jesus all my prayers go to you I love you my sister hello everyone happy New Year this is Catherine calling from Maryland and I just wanted to thank you Jill and China for the reading of the chronological this year of really enjoyed it and especially Jill I just wanted to say thank you for your year-end message enough about just the benefits of of going deep and God doing doing a work in you big milestone I think you turned 50 this year congratulations and and that's was a lovely vulnerability on your part without invading your privacy or that of your family so well done Jill and thank you for being a great example for us all I'm wishing you all the best in 2024 as well as every listener of the DABC love you guys

0 notes

wumblr · 9 months ago

Text

i don't know. this is a hypothetical about what i would call an extremely unlikely geopolitical strategy. i was trying to make a point about the risks of the stated purpose of the ICBM arsenal, but if you want to extend the thought experiment, i can probably use that to drive the point home

any response from the US in retaliation would come from the other two arms of the nuclear triad, submarines and planes. both of these are more mobile, flexible, covert, and difficult to unilaterally strike than ICBMs, so, QED, what's the point of having ICBMs? triple redundancy is not necessary to achieve the same effect, and the risks outweigh the benefits, even for people who believe the arsenal is necessary. that's exactly the point made in the first link

how exactly it might pan out depends a lot on whether you assume the goal is to eliminate the ability to perform a nuclear strike, hobble the government, hobble the military, or kill as many people as possible. each of these scenarios would result in different targets, and in each, the ability to achieve this is significantly hampered by the logistics of every other aspect of the problem. if you eliminate capability for nuclear strikes, we still have conventional munitions, if you hobble the government we still have the military, if you want to hobble the military the list of bases never ends, and if you want to kill as many people as possible the targets are new york and los angeles. if you strike DC, the responsibility for the presidency falls to whoever in the chain of command survives or wasn't in DC at the time. if you don't elimiinate the entire chain of command, someone will retaliate

it's designed like this on purpose. redundancies on redundancies until they are all too interconnected to effectively strike. there isn't a good strategy. if there was we wouldn't be a country. these are the only reasons we still are. we spend almost a trillion tax dollars a year to maintain this system

the more realistic conversation i think we should have is about how to deal with the silos after collapse by apathy due to incompetence. the divine right of kings ended because the kings started doing really stupid shit and nobody could believe they were divine anymore. sounds dangerously familiar, doesn't it? when that starts it's going to happen fast, and the people who are mad about it are going to burn out quickly, leaving us behind with the unmitigated stockpile. i really think that's the likeliest future, and to be honest i would not blame every other country in the world for refusing us humanitarian aid

systems are huge but it's precisely the interconnection that makes them fragile. when they called feynman out to oak ridge, he spent several minutes trying to figure out how to read a blueprint, and then asked "what happens if this valve fails?" to identify whether he had correctly parsed the symbol for valves, and they said "oh my god thank you so much mr feynman you're such an unparalleled genius" and sent him home. one point of failure can bring a whole system down

another thing i don't think most people grasp about the nuclear deterrent is that land-based intercontinental missiles have been referred to as a nuclear sponge, meaning, they are not an offense strategy. the offense strategy is the other two arms of the nuclear triad, air and sea. and defense one is a military news source! the one thing both pro- and anti-nuclear advocates can agree on is that ICBMs are not even necessary. what neither this nor the source below acknowledge is that funding for silos is one of the most influential factors in our representative democracy. it is the only reason that many of these communities ever got any infrastructural support. the only people who love ICBMs are politicians, and it's because bombs are adjacent to cashflow. how pathetic!

the silos are there to sacrificially absorb a nuclear strike from an adversarial state. to provide an extremely difficult strategic roadblock, where it would be necessary to strike every silo simultaneously (or at least before we can launch any of them in retaliation), a nearly impossible task. probably the only scenario in which this is even possible is a war against allied china and russia (which, curiously enough, is what your blue president jacks off about. go ahead and vote for that, you dumb cunts.)

princeton research estimated this would kill 340k-4m, depending largely on whether fallout hits the windy city, with 300m or 81% of the north american continent potentially at risk of lethal fallout. which is to say we are all being used as bait for a worst case scenario equivalent to thirteen hundred nine elevens, precursor to an excuse to commit an extinction-level nuclear winter in retaliation. as i have said previously, whether a nuclear winter is even possible given the detonation of every existing nuke... also depends largely on wind direction, and the primary cause of its damage in the long-term is dust, not radiation. anyway this came up in the sciam nuclear issue

here's the worst wind-model day. (because the silo areas are so sparsely populated, these figures ONLY include fallout-related deaths, because any direct deaths from the detonative charge itself are negligible by comparison. it also includes one 800kt nuke per silo, as in, not the one IN the silo but the one that blew it up, and ITS fallout as well. that might be an unrealistically large estimate, i'm inclined to think you could make every silo inoperable with smaller payloads or even conventional munitions. whether that would make the warhead permanently unusable may be dubious, but that's really splitting hairs)

here's the averaged risk

here's all worst case scenarios (only one scenario can occur, but this is why 300m are at risk despite only 4m deaths in the worst case)

32 notes · View notes

barb-l · 2 years ago

Note

Yeees totally! With Enid probably picking stores strategically beforehand because she knows Wednesday can only take so much before her social batteries run out for the day. She's also totally buying her something other than black and white.. maybe in a beautiful dark blue colour and for whatever, whatever reason Wednesday will be compelled to wear it (when they are alone.) Oh no.. I have way too much thoughts and feelings about them.

Ohh I will be ecstatic about anything you decide to write for them. I loved your first fic tons, it's so very well-written! 😊

Oh dark blue could work. Pretty sure that's what she was wearing in Addams Family Values.

Aww thanks! I'm actually working on a summer break fic rn, but i've been hesitant to keep going cuz ive been considering just waiting to watch the show first cuz i wanna know what Enid's family/pack is like by the end of the show. I'll probably be changing a ton of stuff, or just scrap the whole thing altogether, after i've watched the show, so let me just post what i have so far here:

(sorry im on my mobile and can't put it under read more)

💀💀💀💀💀💀

Enid didn't really expect anything when she gave Wednesday her number. For one, Wednesday didn't have a phone and has sworn that she will never have one.

But just in case...

As, uh, rocky as their start was as roommates, Wednesday has grown on Enid. Like a mold. Maybe due to Stockholm Syndrome. Jury's still up as to how Wednesday feels about her. But after going up against a homicidal monster and rogue Nevermore student together, she likes to think that she has managed to go past being merely a thorn on Wednesday's side and dug her way to the other girl's shriveled, pea-sized heart.

So just before they leave Nevermore for the long-awaited summer break, she gave Wednesday her phone number to let her know that she can contact her if she ever gets sick of tormenting her brother and wants to bother Enid instead.

Wednesday raised a brow when she's handed the piece of paper with Enid's digits and sceptically looked at her. "Why?"

Enid didn't expect Wednesday to ask at the time. Truthfully she expected her to wordlessly throw it away and was prepared for another bout of back and forth squabble like they've always done. Maybe even tease her over how she's too much of an old lady on the inside to even figure out how to use a phone anyway. It was fun. What's not fun is admitting that she will miss her. She didn't prepare to be asked why.

"I don't know," is what Enid ended up saying. "Just..." She shrugged, turned away from Wednesday's calculating gaze to finish zipping up her bag. "I don't know."

"Hm."

Enid didn't like that reaction. Like Wednesday just caught her doing something embarrassing. So she took her bag, gave Wednesday a saccharinely fake smile, and said, "See ya, weirdo!" before running away with her tail tucked between her legs.

----

Enid spends the first two weeks of summer break agonizing over how humiliating that was. Who gives their number to a girl who doesn't even have a phone? Desperate idiots, that's who.

If Wednesday knew how much Enid was suffering just thinking about her, she'd be smiling in satisfaction.

...and now Enid has started thinking about Wednesday's smile, wicked as it may be, and has buried her face in her pillow. This time she's suffering for different, more embarrassing reasons.

She didn't expect anything, honest to god, so when she receives a notification one day for a text from an unknown number, she couldn't believe her eyes.

Greetings, Enid Sinclair, it reads.

Against my better judgement, I have gone and acquired a phone. I still maintain the belief that they are unnecessary and annoying, but you were, regrettably, right. Lighting Pugsley up in the good ol' electric chair has not been the same since Nevermore.

Perhaps it's due to everything else that we have gone through the whole semester. Monsters and what-not can't compare.

Though money has never been an issue to an Addams, I expect that you will make my purchase worthwhile by granting me amusement. Go ahead, regale me of your woes spending school break locked in a whole different kind of prison with your family. I don't expect it to be any worse of a time than I have had, but I haven't lost hope.

Forever in darkness,

Wednesday Addams

Enid rolls her eyes when she finishes reading the absurdly long text, but there's a smile she can't contain when she fondly mutters, "So edgy."

She doesn't reply right away. Mostly because she doesn't know what to say, and also because she spent a good fifteen minutes just re-reading the message, giggling over the mental image of Wednesday going to the mall and buying a phone, all for her.

... Well, maybe not, but Enid doesn't have enough self-control in her to deny a hungry ego.

She knows that the text has been shown as read on Wednesday's end by know, but she pays it no mind. With all the torture having Wednesday on her mind has brought her, she deserves to do it back.

After spending much too long of her time erasing and retyping, she finally replies.

u dont have to sign n write texts like letters yunno. U can just talk like normal

Enid once again laughs when she sees that her text was immediately read. Wednesday spends two minutes conjuring up a reply, and Enid spends the whole time watching the dots on the the bubble move as she lies in bed.

Eventually, Wednesday sends a reply.

Your spelling is atrocious.

Enid wonders if Wednesday would get offended if she tells her how often she has made her laugh.

That's more like it, Enid texts in return.

#asks #Wednesday Netflix #wenclair #itd be such a shame if i end up not officially posting this on ao3 after the show is released #so let me put this out here #if nothing in canon retcons it ill make it longer #my fic #or well #draft of a fic #long post

171 notes · View notes