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wangxianficfinder · 2 months

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In the mood for...

March 25th

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1. hi! y'all are really cool! A) are there any fics where a-yuan (raised by the wens/wwx) wields suibian when he gets older?

also, are there fics B) where jiang cheng dual wields suibian with sandu? @writeitinsharpie

1A)

Though one were strong as seven, he too with death shall dwell (For many times and lands) by sjyl_lotus (E, 148k, wangxian, WIP, Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Suicide Attempt, Suicidal Thoughts, YLLZ WWX, LSZ is a Wei, WWX Adopts LSZ, WWX doesn't go to nightless city, WWX runs away with a-yuan and granny Wen, Little bit of angst, Wéi Yuan is an excelent son, WWX Doesn't die, people is people and overall JGY is JGY so shit will happen, JYL Lives, Wangxian Reunion, Canon Divergence, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Lanling Jin Sect, Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Gusu Lan Sect Rules, Gusu Lan Sect, Burial Mounds, granny wen is best, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Implied/Referenced Torture, Panic Attacks, supportive WSZ, Anxiety Attacks, Canon-Typical Violence, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Slow Build, MXY Deserves Happiness)

🔒❤️ kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

1B)

The Twin Blades of Yunmeng by GhostySword, ofmindelans (T, 89k, JC & WWX, wangxian, JC/NHS, Canon Divergence, Yunmeng Brothers Reconciliation, BAMF JC, protective LWJ, Golden Core Reveal, Swords and Feelings, WWX Resurrection, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow Burn, Embedded Images, Sect Leader QS)

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2. Hi!

For the next itmf :

Looking for the fics that talk about NHS a) as the real author of the spring books he was distributing. Imagined and painted .

B) Or another version where he specifically was giving WWX spring books with gay sex or bi threesomes maybe

C) fics with focus on wwx browsing NHS spring books and doing some thinking about sexuality and self exploration

Thank you!

2B)

Fentao-laoshi’s Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures by occultings (microcomets) (E, 31k, wangxian, canon divergence, pining while fucking, friends with benefits, first time, cloud recesses study arc, practice kissing, sharing a bed, jealousy, getting together, confessions, happy ending) could also fit 2C

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3. hii this is for itmf!!

fics where lan yuan is still like a toddler!! or even an infant!!!

💖 The Simplest Way Forward by harriet_vane (E, 71k, wangxian, modern, accidental baby acquisition, slow burn, pining)

box your errors by mellowflicker (T, 42k, WangXian, Modern AU, single dad lwj, Domestic Fluff, Family Issues, Slow Burn, Kid Fic, let lwj have friends agenda, Hurt/Comfort, Pining)

🔒 so take my hand (take my whole life too) by cicer (E, 92k, wangxian, Modern, Accidental Baby Acquisition, oh my god they were roommates, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, this fic is not about trauma, it's about the yearning, slowburn, some characters have a pretty strong bias against folks with drug addiction, (this does not reflect the author's opinion of people with addiction disorders!), none of the really grim abuse/drug use affects our main characters, and it takes place offscreen)

The stuffed bunny, the beautiful nephew, and other gifts from Lan Qiren by deliciousblizzardshark (G, 8k, LQR & WWX, wangxian, Modern, Single Parent WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Accidental Uncle Acquisition, Found Family, Fluff)

Let's Play Pretend and Live Our Lives by Tassos (E, 50k, wangxian, Modern, On Purpose Baby Aquisition, Accidental Husband Aquisition, Idiots in Love, WWX Has Self Esteem Issues, Domestic Fluff, Kid Fic, Light Angst, the Lans and Jiangs make an appearance, NHS Gives Great Advice, Pining, Getting Together)

Magic Mishap by Regency_Bunny (T, 8k, wangxian, Modern, imbo LXC, Single Parent WWX, Kid Fic, Magic Tricks, Fluff and Humor, Child LSZ, Meet-Cute, Bunnies, Misunderstandings, Love at First Sight)

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4. Hi, I'm in a mood for fantasy AUs with necromancer WWX ^^ Can also be modern w magic

Darkness Before the Dawn by Selenay (E, 64k, wangxian, Zombie Apocalypse, Modern With Magic, Necromancer WWX, Reunions, toddler A-Yuan, There Was Only One Bed, There are zombies but not graphically horrific zombies, Angst with a Happy Ending, Find a home in the middle of an apocalpyse)

all the bonds of nature by Anonymous (E, 68k, wangxian, MXY & WWX, MXY & LWJ & WWX, WIP, Modern with Magic, Romantic Comedy, Roommates to lovers, Pining LWJ, Pining, LWJ falls in love in roughly fifteen seconds, he's a mess what can i say, Necromancy, ethical necromancer WWX, Music Teacher LWJ, Fluff and Smut, a lot of meditation on the bullshit of being a public school teacher, musings on the nature of personal property and land ownership as one is wont to do, Ghosts, Urban Fantasy, Low Fantasy, wangxian are extremely weirdo4weirdo in this, Light Angst, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Rimming, Felching, Light Bondage, Virginity Roleplay, (just a little. wwx is not good at playing the virgin), Kink Negotiation, Praise Kink, BDSM, Developing Relationship, Dominant LWJ)

necromancy is a valid career path! Series by coslyons, Skadiseven (T, 41k, WWX & XY, XY & WQ, WN & XY, WWX & WN & WQ, LSZ & XY, LWJ & XY, wangxian, Granny Wen & XY, Modern with Magic, Seattle, Necromancy, Found Family, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Gardens & Gardening, Mathematics, Running, and other crimes against Teenagers, XY is a shitty teen, sometimes a family can be three mildly feral twenty-somethings and the extremely feral teenager that adopts them, Growing Up, The Mortifying Ordeal of Realizing Your Pseudo-parents are People Too, Big brother XY, A-Yuan is a little gremlin, WWX is a much larger gremlin)

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5. Hi! 🤗

This one is for ITMF. I'd like to read new fics about WWX having a new golden core. No mordern fics or dark ones, please, I'm not in the mood 🙏. I want happy endings!

Thanks again! You make my days much better!!

🥰✨ @wangxiansgirl

The Core Issue by Hauntcats (T, 21k, wangxian, WQ & WWX & WN, NHS & WWX & NMJ, canon divergence, golden core rebuilding, golden core tied to soul, angst w/ happy ending, not JC friendly) WWX meditates a golden core back

when you’re doing all the leaving (then it’s never your love lost) by tardigradeschool (T, 26k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Sharing a Bed, Sharing Clothes, Fix-It, the inherent eroticism of under robes, Golden Core Transfer) LWJ gives WWX a part of his own core

🧡 a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke ( M, 180k, WangXian, Arranged marriage, Canon Divergence, Hurt/comfort, Light angst, Canon typical violence) Technically not a new golden core, but a new core of a different type

The Fire Lapping Up the Creek by notevenyou (E, 66k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Injury, Injury Recovery, Blood, Respiratory Illness, Major Illness, Fever, Grief/Mourning, Burial Mounds, Angst with a Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hunger and food scarcity, Surgery, Fix-It of Sorts) WWX gets part of someone else's core transplanted into him

Ghosts Shouldn’t by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 15k, WangXian, Grief/Mourning, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Righteous at a Cost by thunderwear (G, 21k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, no one dies, LQR finds out about WWX's core, WWX and LQR are friends??, In My Fic?, its more likely than you think, LWJ in the bg like whats happening?, Fluff, WWX goes to Gusu, Mutual Pining, Golden Core Reveal)

Can't Tell Me Nothin by natacup82 (T, 35k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Everybody Lives, Family Feels, Communication, BAMF Women)

🔒Away from Trouble by Ilona22 (M, 15k, wangxian, Alternate Universe, Not JC Friendly, WangXian Get a Happy Ending) This is one of my personal favorites, for the growth wwx goes through and what he accomplishes separate from the sects while regrowing a new core for himself. (However, the author doesn’t spend enough time on wangxian romance for it to not just feel like something they tacked on to fill that required box, so don’t go in expecting good wangxian)

What Is Left Over by Loriqod (T, 30k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Yunmeng Shuangjie, Yunmeng brothers, Post-Canon Fix-It, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Happy Ending, WangXian in Love, SO SO SO IN LOVE, bite-sized angst, Canon-Typical Violence, JC & WWX Reconciliation, Training Montage) This one’s WWX redeveloping a core in MXY’s body. It might not be quite what you had in mind, but give it a chance, this fic is ALL about him actually cultivating with the idea of making a new core, & it’s rare to find a fic with that focus. (Even amongst fics that are suppose to be all about that(for some reason people are allergic to showing WWX actually cultivate))

I’m Sorry & Thank You by Iamnotawriter (T, 12k, wangxian, post-canon, Canon Compliant, Golden Core, Canon-Typical Violence, LQR’s epipheny, Angst with a Happy Ending)

Bitter Plants Bearing Sweet Fruit by Kryal (T, 83k, wangxian, canon-typical horror elements, Worldbuilding, Desert, Misuse of Historic Setting, Original Character Death(s), Case Fic, aftermath of canon, Established Relationship, Nothing Explicit But Shameless Innuendo)

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6. Alright everyone, give me everything you have where either: (A) WWX is an actual rogue cultivator at the start of the fic, or (B) he leaves the Jiangs (via Madam Yu banishment or getting fed up with them an leaving on his own) and spends time as a rogue cultivator. (I want to see my boy in the wild doing the wild cultivator thing) if he doesn’t have a core at the beginning of the fic, I would appreciate recs where he regains it at some point. I have a Wangxian agenda btw, so WX endgame plz. @omgnectarina

Ad Oblivione by Baph, HikariNoHimeWriter (M, 70k, WangXian, Time Travel Fix-It, Temporary Character Death, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple, Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Identity Reveal, Golden Core Reveal, Cultivation World Critical, Not JC Friendly, Abusive YZY, Angst with a Happy Ending) WWX is sent back in time to when he was a child & doesn't get taken in by the Jiangs

We Meet at the Thousandth Step by Admiranda, Rynne (T, 258k, wangxian, CSSR/WCZ, WIP, Canon Divergence, No Sunshot Campaign, CSSR & WCZ Live, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Different First Meeting, Night Hunts, Genius WWX, Inventor WWX, Romance, Drama, Fluff, Strangers to married, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Everyone Lives AU, Developing Relationship, Minor Violence, Case Fic, Mystery, Flirting, WWX's Canon-Typical Flower Flirting, Arson, There Was Only One Bed, Getting Together, First Kiss, Meeting the Parents, Resolved Sexual Tension, Resolved Romantic Tension, WWX Is a Good Big Brother, New Relationship Bliss, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, Blood and Injury, Yiling siblings)

Cultivating immortality by KizuKatana (E, 230k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Rogue Cultivator WWX, Pining, Mutual Pining, WWX low self-esteem, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Angst with a Happy Ending, not sure if this qualifies as fix-it but that was my emotional need/intent, Hurt/Comfort, unreliable narrator (wwx's self image is…), sect wars happening, Canon typical darkness, demonic cultivation descriptions in detail, self-indulgent exploration of the creation of demonic cultivation and how it changed WWX, JC and LWJ are reluctant (VERY RELUCTANT) allies, YZY & LQR are made to face up to their faults, JYL is badass (fight me) though not in terms of cultivation strenght, JC gets a chance to redeem himself, Found Family, First Time, novel canon relationship dynamics)

🔒 crying like a fire in the sun by Reverie (cl410) (T, 10k, wangxian, SL/XXC, JC & WWX, BSSR/LY, Runaway WWX, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, rogue cultivator WWX, Angst, Post Cloud Recesses, Not YZY Friendly, Happy Ending, BSSR is WWX's grandmother instead of grandmaster)

Inchoate by Marinelifeclub (T, 20k, wangxian, Child Abuse, Bad Parent JFM, Bad Parent YZY, Protective LQR, Protective LWJ, Rogue Cultivator WWX, YZY Bashing, JC Bashing, No Golden Core Transfer, Dark JFM)

A Thousand Things by tickertape (M, 108k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiāngs, Developing Friendships, lots of OCs because I can't help myself and I love them, most of the canon cast make cameos at some point, miscommunication and misunderstandings (they’re idiots your honor), Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, Night Hunts, The Cloud Recesses Rabbits, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, Slow Burn, like really slow burn, like if it was a bushfire it would take 8 years for it to burn through one (1) forest, the wangxian strangers to obnoxious best friends to obnoxious lovers pipeline, 'shitty cultivation world bureaucracy' is also a running theme, WWXHas a Fear of Dogs)

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7. hello! I was hoping you could recommend fics where wei ying is taken hostage by people who hate lan zhan and lan zhan gets beaten up trying to save him. Maybe kind angsty and emotional? @ivybookworm

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8. hi - for the next itmf, any fics that go on from that haunting almost last scene in the Untamed where LS, WN and LWJ all leave WY alone on the road. angsty ones that explore the idea of WY having no-one would be awesome. thank you so much for all you do! @oldoni

Story-Shaped by lingering_song (T, 13k, NHS & WWX, wangxian, Post-Canon, Chief Cultivator LWJ, Inventor WWX, Found Family, NHS needs a new hobby, And apparently that’s spoiling his Wei-Xiong, Mentioned Character Death, Alcohol, Protective NHS, WangXian Endgame, Not JC Friendly, Not particularly gentry sects friendly overall tbh) NHS finds WWX wandering about. Possibly not as angsty as requester is hoping for, but does address how bad an idea it is to let WWX wander alone

im reminded of a fic but cant recall the one. Wwx is travelling by himself, writing letters to LZ, he stays in a town and it ends up cursed. LZ and the juniors arrive to solve the case. Wwx is acting weird and hides his letters. The juniors read the letters and find out wwx is angry and full of resentment about how he's been treated. They find out the curse resonates from him. They talk it out to resolve matters. Any idea?

Rotten Work by ShanaStoryteller (Not Rated, 63k, WangXian, WWX & JL, Post-Canon, Protective WWX, Protective JL, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Reluctant Matchmaker JL) similar to Story Shaped, but it's Jin Ling who finds wwx. // might fit the bill? It isn't overly angsty, but it does have characters remarking on how bad of an idea it is to let WWX go off on his own.

Judge Softly by Chrononautical (E, 32k, wangxian, LSZ & WWX, LQR & WWX, accidental voyeurism, non-consensual mind reading, oblivious WWX, bamf WWX, genius WWX, post-canon Fix-it, angst w happy ending, LQR tries)

the soft animal of your body by howodd5ever (M, 21k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Getting Together, WWX has feelings about having a body, sort of a case fic, a little bit of epistolary goodness, graphic descriptions of wounds, Feelings About Death, WWX gets seriously injured, quoting chinese poetry at each other as a love language, Art Embedded, wound-tending as an act of love, Bathing/Washing, the mortifying ordeal of being asked to stay, Sharing a Bed, Finding home, WWX's canonical alcohol abuse makes an appearance a bit)

my age has never made me wise by idrilka (E, 63k, wangxian, Post-Canon, Part-epistolary, Mutual Pining, Getting Together, Marriage Proposal, Homecoming, One Brain Cell WWX Strikes Again)

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9. Itmf: what's a story premise/trope that's really hard to do well, and what stories have done them really well?

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10. Itmf, what's ur fav story prompt/initial premise that you've seen, regardless of the execution(s) of it?

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11. thank u for ur hard work! any fic recs of lan zhan hurting wei ying and he regrets it? thankss

Concord by Deastar (T, 41k, WangXian, Arranged Marriage, Gūsū Lán Sect Rules, Depression, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending)

我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole) by piecrust (E, 22k, wangxian, college/university au, porn w/ feelings)

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12. ITMF like, historical perspectives. Like people in modern times talking about/teaching about/learning about LWG, WWX, and possibly others as historical figures

Historical Precedents for the Concept of Time Travel and Transmigration by meyari (G, 21k, wangxian, Fluff and Crack, dubious academic writing, Historical Research, it's practically its own character in this, vague college setting, Modern, Good YZY, Good Person SS, Reincarnation) It's the second part of a series, the first one takes place in canon era, and the second one is about modern Wei Ying researching about historical Wei Wuxian for his thesis! I recommend reading the first part first (or at least looking at the premise) for much-needed context, and also because it's so good!

DID YILING LAOZU REALLY EXIST???: a Thread [1/?] by el_em_en_oh_pee (G, 6k, wangxian, Academia AU, Social Media, Research, Cartographic Mishaps, HOW IS CARTOGRAPHIC MISHAPS AN ESTALISHED TAG. NO HAPS WERE MISSED HERE I ASSURE U, Folklore, LJY's Hot Takes, Procrastinating Your Dissertation Proposal By Writing A 104-Tweet Thread: The Lan Jingyi Story, Mixed Media, POV Outsider, this is kind of an AU - Modern and kind of not???, it's a modern academic/researchy exploration of canon lol) it's AMAZING

For 12, there's also the one where Wangxian are majoring in cultivation in University and there's a talk about the meaning of Hanguang-jun compositions with several one liner "titles" like fried watermelon rinds are terrible or something like that. Can't mine it on my AO3 history but it's there, I know it's there!

🔒 Night of the Living History (an edutainment special!) by Aerlalaith (T, 51k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Workplace Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Museums, living history, the author's feelings about, the edutainment industry, museum workers, Some Plot, Slice of Life, Injury, a minor haunting, the stakes are low, unless you're on the museum board i guess, WWX does not get an employee discount)

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13. Hi! For the next ITMF, could anyone recommend wangxian fics that also feature LWJ & JC not getting along/being hostile toward each other? I'm talking like anything from them having disagreements to physically fighting to just outright hating each other.

Untitled tumblr fic where LWJ punches JC in the face (sharing my reblog as writer seems to have deleted their blog & I can't find it on their Ao3)

the only way out by cafecliche (T, 12k, wangxian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Post-Canon, this is one part character study, one part comedy of errors, and one part fix-it, WWX is a people pleaser in this essay I will, my event planning experience rearing its head again, Podfic Available)

Wei Wuxian’s Kidnapping Back and Forth Farce (Starring Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji) by misscam (M, 5k, wangxian, JC & WWX, Humor, Switching)

some good mistakes by Lise (T, 18k, WangXian, JC & WWX, JC & LWJ, Road Trips, (terrible road trips), Post-Canon, Rescue Missions, Hurt/Comfort, ish, Awkward Conversations, POV JC, JC & WWX Reconciliation, (ish they’re working on it)) should be noted that the Wangxian is background and the primary focus is on LWJ and Jiang Cheng having lots of emotions coming out sideways at each other

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14. Hey, guys. Hope you're having a great day. ITMF some Wen Ning POV/Wen Ning-centric stuff @thispatternismine

🔒 The Moon Reflected Upon Two Springs by Rubberduckieassassin (M, 2k, Post-Canon, Fierce Corpse WN, WN-centric, Farmer WN, WN Needs a Hug, Gusu Lan Juniors Dynamics, Good Kid LSZ, Good Kid LJY, Wen Remnants Mentioned, Burial Mounds Settlement Days Mentioned, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Five Stages of Grief, Melancholy, Building A Home, Family Feels, WN is learning how to 'live' again)

🔒 do not go gentle by RoseThorne (G, 684, WN & WQ, WN & WWX, LSZ & WQ, Canonical Character Death, Spirits, Ghosts, LWJ Plays Inquiry, Song: Inquiry, Protectiveness, Grief/Mourning, Love, Acceptance, Family, Angst, Post-Canon, POV Third Person, POV Wen Ning)

Tea with the Unquiet Dead by treemaidengeek (G, 1k, SL & WN, Grief/Mourning, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, finding healing in unexpected places, Fierce Corpse Friends!)

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15. For the next ITMF, are there any fics where Lan Wangji comes to terms/wrestles with his darker sexual desires?

Come Back to Gusu… by AitchNKay (E, 90k, wangxian, WIP, Major Character Death, Fluff and Smut, Drama & Romance, Angst, Fix-It, Canon Compliant, Anal Sex, BL,, Switching, Bottom LWJ) Currently less than halfway through this one & it's a WIP so not sure how it goes, but has scenes of LWJ worrying about if his desires are too fucked up

💖 Magical Marriage Ribbons Series by starandrea (Varies, 1m, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Accidental Marriage, Fluff, Happy Ending, Telepathic bond, Kink Negotiation, Family Drama, Magical Pregnancy, Dual Cultivation, Shapeshifters, Modern with Magic, Immortality, Yilling Wei Sect) has LWJ continuously struggling to vocalize nearly ANY of his sexual wants even well after wangxian get together

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16. Hi! ITMF your favourite recommendations with LWJ being petty and pouty (maybe bratty too?) - modern AUs and modern with magic are preferred. Thank you <3

Sorry! Just to add on to last ask petty LWJ ITMF ask --> Judgy LWJ reccs please.

the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, wangxian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

with you, I am home by tellthemstories (M, 47k, wangxian, Modern Cultivation, fake dating for reasons, Meeting the Family, There Was Only One Bed, Casual Domesticity, wwx is oblivious in more ways than one, 'this fic is like emotional edging’, this comment sums up the entire fic)

i really want to know (who are you) by Stratisphyre (M, 19k, wangxian, LQR & WWX, Modern with Magic, Golden Core Reveal Single Dad WWX, Reasonable Authority Figure LQR, Allusions to violence and murder, Hospitalization)

The Twelve Days of Christmas, OR, How to Drive Your Brother-in-Law Insane by Following One Traditional Carol by Hobbsy3 (T, 3k, wangxian, Fluff, Crack Treated Seriously, Twelve Days Of Christmas, sending someone six geese and seven swans is definitely not an act of love, OR IS IT, Christmas Fluff, JC is So Done, LWJ is a Little Shit, Modern) Ooh! One more for 16 (it's a Christmas fic but features a very hilarious and petty Lan Zhan)

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17. Hi Hi i'm looking for two sets of fics a) lan qiren time travel fics where he's good and actually likes Wei Wuxian or atleast let's their relationship happen b) kid fics where wwx and lwj have a lot of children adoption or birth or a mixture of both but just them having a lot of children. @thatperson0-0

17A)

Lessons relearned by Iamnotawriter (T, 44k, WangXian, LQR & WWX, Not Madam Yu Friendly, Time Travel Fix-It, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Inventor WWX, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, No Golden Core Transfer, YZY Bashing)

in stillness, clear water to the bottom by Stratisphyre (T, 40k, CSSR/LQR/WCZ, NHS's Mom/Sect leader Nie/NMJ's Mom, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Threesome - M/M/F, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Background WangXian, Everyone lives/Nobody dies, (mostly), (not you qingheng-jun), Family feelings, Minor NieLan, Madam Lan lives, references to past rape)

17B)

❤️ Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste for williedustice (T, 36k, WangXian, JC & WWX, Post-Canon, Yunmeng Bros Reconciliation, Adoption, Family Fluff, Kid fic, Family drama, Fluff, 🔒[PODFIC] Attempting the Impossible by Ariaste by lunatique)

travelers through the empty gate by stiltonbasket (M, 107k, wangxian, royalty au, mistaken identity, emperor WWX, poor LWJ, forced marriage, (by LWJ himself), confused WWX, parenthood, misunderstandings, empress LWJ, fluff & humor, married life, angst w/ happy ending, WIP)

The Wei Family Series by Setari (T, 65k, wangxian, WWX & OCs, Kid Fic, Canon Rewrite, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Transphobia, Family Feels, POV Multiple, Next Generation Original Characters, Subverted Blame the Bastard Trope, Miscarriage Scare, Horny Teenagers, Hopeful Ending, Crack Treated Seriously, Oblivious WWX, Pining LWJ, Not As Dark As The Tags Make It Sound, 5+1 Things, set during the 13 years Wei Wuxian is dead, POV Original Character, Fix-It, Not Everyone Dies AU, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Grief/Mourning, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Work In Progress)

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If you didn’t get an answer to your ask here, don’t forget to make use of @mdzs-kinkmeme and MDZS KINK MEME on Dreamwidth. Authors actually do use them for ideas. You may get what you order!***Your prompt doesn’t have to be kink! Fluff, crack, whatever - it’s all good!***

#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic recs #i'm in the mood for a fic #the untamed #wangxian fic search #wangxianficfinder #long post

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talonabraxas · 4 days

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Sun & Moon Talon Abraxas

The Sun and the Moon in One’s Soul

Regarding the mysterious trajectory of Initiates, Helena P. Blavatsky wrote:

“Every true Adept had, and still has, to pass through the seven and the twelve trials of Initiation, symbolized by the twelve labours of Hercules (….).”

Blavatsky knew what she was writing about. She was following the same course. The “twelve tasks” of Hercules symbolize the yearly journey of the Sun across the sky, and the initiatory challenges that each Disciple must face in due time.

Referring to traditional legends about the lives of adepts, H.P.B. added on the same page:

“….. If it is once shown that (…..) the trials of all these personages are made to correspond with the Esoteric significance of initiatory rites – all of which corresponded to the twelve zodiacal signs – then everyone will see the meaning of the travels of all those heroes through the signs of the Sun in Heaven; and that they are in each individual case a personification of the ‘sufferings, triumphs and miracles’ of an Adept, before and after his Initiation. When to the world at large all this is explained, then also the mystery of all those lives, so closely resembling each other that the history of one seems to be the history of the other, and vice versa, will, like everything else, become plain.”

The above statement applies in part to H.P.B.’s own life.

Although much of her personal existence and initiatory journey are well-documented historical facts, her life still remains a Mystery. Actual events may have legendary dimensions. The nineteenth century incarnation of the spiritual soul which is known to many as “HPB” constitutes a valuable source of information regarding the pilgrimage of every soul towards divine knowledge.

Human Soul and the Sky

The journey of the hero is the journey of the disciple.

Each human being has his or her own personal relation to the Sun, and it can be expanded into the spiritual realm by proper study and contemplation.

Helena Blavatsky said to William Judge:

“The life-energies of [the solar] system come to it through the sun, which is a focus or reflector for the spot in space where the real center is. And not only comes mere life through that focus, but also much more that is spiritual in its essence. The sun should therefore not only be looked at with the eye but thought of by the mind. It represents to the world what the Higher Self is to the man. It is the soul-center of the world with its six companions, as the Higher Self is the center for the six principles of man. So it supplies to those six principles of the man many spiritual essences and powers. He should for that reason think of it and not confine himself to gazing at it. So far as it acts materially in light, heat, and gravity, it will go on of itself, but man as a free agent must think upon it in order to gain what benefit can come only from his voluntary action in thought.”

Every student of theosophy can develop a conscious contemplative view of the Sun as related to the higher principles of his own consciousness.

HPB went on:

“…We sit in the sun for heat and possible chemical effects. But if at the same time that we do this we also think on it as the sun in the sky and of its possible essential nature, we thereby draw from it some of its energy not otherwise touched. This can also be done on a dark day when clouds obscure the sky, and some of the benefit thus be obtained. Natural mystics, learned and ignorant, have discovered this for themselves here and there, and have often adopted the practice. But it depends, as you see, upon the mind.”

The Sunlight Shines Through the Moon

The Moon is inseparable from the Sun in human life. Astrologically and mystically, our satellite represents the subtle energy of the lower self, or mortal soul.

The Moon interacts all the time with the emotional center in one’s consciousness, and with the Sun, which represents the higher Self. The light of the Moon is borrowed from the light of the Sun, just as the light and energy of one’s lower self is borrowed from the higher or spiritual self.

In the day of the full Moon, the constant dialogue between higher and lower self, between the central light and the auxiliary light, gets to its highest point. The full moon brings us the celebration of Light on Earth. It is the brightest moment of the month, from the point of view of the visible world. It is the day of maximum unity between sky and earth.

However, the increased light shows both beautiful and ugly things, depending on the contents of one’s life and of life in general. One must have patience and strength regarding the unbalanced things a Full Moon may show.

To dedicate one’s existence to Light means fulfilling the task of self-purification through altruistic efforts.

While the Moon is the mirror of the pilgrim’s lower self, the Full Moon constitutes the moment when one’s soul looks at another mirror, the spiritual Sun, which reflects our highest and most sacred potentialities. Blessing and severity are the two parts of such a process.

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alexiswritingstuff · 11 months

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(THIS IS A REPOST BECAUSE THE LAST VERSION GOT MESSED UP, SORRY FOR ANY CREATED EXCITEMENT!!)

Now, I know I’ve said this for many things, but I genuinely got carried away with this that when I had the idea for the plot... I kinda forgot that the anon had requested something cute with fluff, so... I hope the ending does it justice.

Either way, thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it!

Removal of the Mask.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Mike Ehrmantraut, though only mentioned.

Request: I had an idea for another Gus fic! I just want him to finally break , mask off and just actually let himself show emotion and be upset with the reader comforting him or something? I just need cute and fluffy stuff with him in my life. Poor dude just needs a shoulder to cry on

Content: angst with comfort and fluff.

Warnings: fighting, gunshot, injuries, descriptions of a hospital.

Be aware of spelling errors and mistakes! I do go read through my fics before posting them, but I always managed to miss some!

A/N: I don’t know if it’s just the way I perceive Gustavo, but I genuinely can’t think of him just... crying. You know, like, maybe with tears in his eyes, but the only way I was able to imagine it was like if something close to a major trauma happened. So, I guess that’s what influenced my idea for this.

Also this fic may be really long, so buckle up, hydrated yourself and grab a snack.

More Gustavo fics.

Taglist-

@sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana

The sun was high in the sky. Everything beneath felt the presence, including you as beads of sweat trailed down wherever it could on your body.

You were leant against the side of your car, though not very still in the unbearable heat. “Where the hell is this guy?”

The problem with doing these deals, exchanges, or something along those lines was that they had to be done in unknown places. Areas where there weren’t other people around who could possibly witness something they shouldn’t.

That usually meant abandoned properties, or having to travel miles into the vast desert.

And for this particular meet-up.

It was both.

You sniffed, a rising sense of irritation building as you twisted your wrist to lay eyes on the watch strapped to it. Five minutes late. No one in this business risked being five minutes late, especially if it could end up being more.

No one had been told that it was going to be you instead of Gustavo that they were going to be meeting with today either, so in theory, these people were laying back on him. Making him seem like a fool with the need to wait alone in the desert.

But it was you.

And you were not the slightest bit happy.

Just as your arm lowered, hand angrily smacking back to the car door behind you, there was a revving sound that hummed across the landscape. And upon looking up, your eyes found a moving cloud of dust just over one of the minor hills.

“Ballsy.”

You pushed yourself off of your car, adopting a straightened stance the way a bodyguard would.

Despite wanting to present yourself like Gustavo would- arms tight by the sides, chin raised, head basically unmoving unless needing to provide a form of intimidation- when the car had finally rolled into the lot, your arms were just crossed over your chest.

It may have made you like an angry toddler, but there was nothing more unnerving than the ultimate death stare you shot the driver as he exited the vehicle which had finally stilled.

“You’re not Gustavo.”

That was the first thing he said.

After turning up late, and looking like he didn’t even bother to dress himself accordingly... That was it? He even had this narrowed gaze when he began to take a few steps in your direction.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was the traffic that made you late... Am I right?” You hadn’t moved an inch, just simply watched the man as he ultimately decided to settle on keeping a good distance.

His hands lowered to his hips while his eyes flickered to the horizon, his head mildly nodding as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. But it looked more like he didn’t care.

“Okay,” you began, finally letting your arms fall to your sides, “Let’s not waste anymore time then.”

“Do you have them?”

The mans attention snapped back to you after he rocked on his heels for a moment, his stance unchanging much like his gaze, “It was supposed to be Mr. Fring that I met with.” There was a slight southern drawl to his words, a sound that slowly became vicious the more he spoke, “Where is he?”

Your voice stayed the same despite the irritation that began to take back its place, “I believe we’re old enough to carry out an exchange ourselves, don’t you think?”

There was a good few seconds of strong eye contact. One that closely resembled the kind of stand off you would see in old western movies.

But eventually, his head lowered when you held no reaction to his persistence, even stilled it there when he spat out a glob of spit onto the sandy dirt below.

And then he turned, walking back to the car with a flurry of emotions that visibly affected the way his legs moved.

Your expression was stern as you watched him regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it, a weird feeling now residing in your chest from the previous actions. I mean, it was like a want. An insistence of Gustavo’s whereabouts.

Gustavo was a businessman. He was the owner of something so large that he couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once, or be the one to do things all the time, so it was more common for other people, like you or Victor, even Mike, to be the ones at exchanges. Especially if the outcome wasn’t something that heavily impacted the business.

Hell, you were just trying to collect new versions of equipment that had been busted from too much usage, this whole interaction had been strange from the get-go.

He had been late, wanted to speak to no one other than Gustavo, despite the fact that the needed task was just handing over the machines, so that you could give him the money in return.

Even with the amount of thoughts that were running through your mind, in the next moment, it seemed that by the time your attention had refocused the realisation of a problem came a bit too late.

The man, who you still didn’t know the name of, had arrived at the side of his car. But instead of moving to the back, where you were assuming was the equipment covered by that tarp, he had stilled at the window of the passenger seat.

You couldn’t exactly pull a machine through a window now could you?

Just as you had retrieved your gun from your belt, and was so close to properly gripping it in your hand, a shot rang through the vast area.

It snagged the weapon, narrowly missing your fingers in the process, and you immediately retracted your hand, watching in mild shock as it fell to the sand below.

Damnit. He’s trained.

Unlike what the rest of your body wanted to do in that moment, your legs sprang into action like your life depended on it. Because it in fact did this time.

You swerved, dodged and weaved as bullets began to pang off of walls and the empty shells of cars that were just left, clouds of dust beginning to gather in the air the further you went.

Situations like this weren’t exactly unusual. Contact with other business went sideways more than anyone would really like to admit, hence the need to carry weapons at all times.

The only difference now was that you were the direct target.

You rounded the corner of the closest part of the abandoned building, heart pounding in your chest, your ears, and chorusing with the bullets that continued to fire despite not even being in view anymore.

Your feet skidded to a stop, your eyes frantically searching through the area for some kind of hiding spot or at least something that would give you time to make a plan.

But just as you made a decision, that would’ve at least lead you to your next option if it went sideways, a shot echoed through the surrounding walls.

A sound uncontrollably escaped your throat. Your body jolted, knees eager to bend as you staggered forwards, a sense of determination bubbling in your system more than it ever had.

However, before you could have even prepared, something collided with the middle of your back with full intent.

It sent you tumbling forward. Your knees were the first to connect with the ground below until your hands followed, the sand beginning to roast the pads of your fingers.

But of course, due to the combination of your lack of ability to comprehend the situation, and an increasing pain somewhere in your side, you couldn’t keep yourself stabilised for long.

You fell on your stomach, the exhaustion from the heat finally creeping in the last moment that it needed to.

“Listen,” you croaked out after a cough, still trying to pull yourself towards your chosen hiding spot despite the inability to basically move, “You want-- You want Gustavo, right? Why not… You can’t get to him if you kill-- kill me.”

There was no point in bargaining. You knew that. You knew that this was pre-planned, and that it in fact was meant for Gus.

But they could easily settle on the next best thing if the intent was to impact him.

And you were right.

Each of your legs were grasped in either of his hands within the next second, and before you could grab the sand beneath you, even if your fingers would’ve immediately sunk through, he began pulling you towards him.

In the blink of an eye, your body got flipped over, your spine now slamming into the sand. An indescribable pain seared through your side, and despite the urge to arch your back as if it would get you away from the feeling, your eyes went wide. And you swung, arm aimed at the first body part that was close enough.

His gun fell to the side.

There was a yell of annoyance that bellowed from the man above, and when you tried to move a fist decided to meet with your face in a way that had your ears purely ringing.

It was almost like your brain was forgetting basic functions. You could barely remember how to move your eyes, or even breathe, for a terrifying few seconds.

You had previously thrashed in a way that made the man falter, almost losing his balance. It wasn’t until he was trying to push himself to stand that something managed to form in your head.

Your legs trapped his own despite their weakness and while the man battled with a pair of limbs, cursing in ways that you couldn’t imagine, your hand subtly moved to the side, gliding across the surface of the sand.

Until they met with metal.

The vision through your eyes was blurry from the previous attacks and now from the direction off the sun that beamed right on you. But somehow you still managed to find your aim.

The man twisted back round when he heard that familiar click and his eyes widened as much as they physically could, “No--”

The shot echoed more times that you could count, bouncing off of every possible surface, through the building and on the walls like a game of ping pong.

And then something slumped, falling to the side almost in slow motion until it collided with the ground.

You got him.

All at once the adrenaline rush slowed and the pain in your face, with a sort of burning sensation somewhere else in your upper body, intensified so much that you could barely move.

A shaky whine pushed through your lips as you began to pat around your torso, trying to find the large source of pain.

And then you got to your left side.

It seems that he got you first.

“Shit.” you seethed through gritted teeth and lowered your increasingly weak arm back down to let your hand gain access to a pocket. Your fingers dug through the fabric compartment, grabbed at a device before, unsteadily, pulling it out.

There was no way that you would be able to sit up so you did your best to lift the phone in front of your face, but even when it was flipped open, your vision shook with your heaving chest.

It felt like years had passed by the time you had managed to push a certain order of buttons in, and as soon as it began to ring, you let it drop, your arm smacking into the ground next to your side.

Finally, there was an answer.

The phone hadn’t landed that far away from your head, but it was enough so that when a voice crackled through the speaker, you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the ragged breaths that rasped from your throat.

You coughed, “Hey, Mike. You, uh… You’re not busy, right?” Your voice was strained despite how hard you were trying to play off your injuries, but when you put pressure on the most important wound to limit the blood loss. It was a little hard to maintain.

“It’s not been a very nice tea party.”

The surrounding room would’ve been quiet if it wasn’t for the monotonous beeps from machines that sounded more hypnotic as time went on.

The lighting was dull, barely reflecting off of the walls, with no help from the world outside as by now it had apparently grown dark. Though, due to the ache that consumed almost every part of your head, it made you very grateful.

Your gaze was set on the window on the other side of the room, one used so that doctors could see their patients at any given time if they weren’t able to hear them first.

Gustavo had arrived, stood in the brighter hallway and talking to a doctor you were still getting use to interacting with yourself.

The expression on his face was a mixture of the one he held when interacting with the general public and this intensity that would be difficult for other people to notice upon first glance.

But not you.

After almost every sentence spoken by the doctor, the man had sent a glance your way. A look that could almost make you feel exactly how he did, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t fully readable.

And before there was even an attempt to try, you found yourself breaking the eye contact, sinking the back of your head further into your pillow as it seemed that your mind only now was capturing onto the fact that you were indeed awake.

From what you could hear from the muffled conversation going on outside, and what you had been previous told, the bullet had luckily missed major arteries or organs that would’ve cost everything if hit.

But even so, especially now that it had been removed, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still going to hurt like hell.

You had been issued pain medication at a time that couldn’t be remembered off the bat, but it seemed that it hadn’t met the 30 minute mark yet. Meaning that it wasn’t properly in your system.

By the time your eyes focused back through the window, Gustavo had a smile stiffly pressed onto his lips. The two of them were shaking hands, sharing words that you couldn’t quite catch, and then the doctor turned, resuming the work they were previously doing before he had arrived.

In that moment, the emotion held on Gustavo's face had disappeared by the next time your heavy eyelids had allowed themselves to blink. It was almost like he was in a trance for a good second, his eyes unfocused as they stared off down the hallway.

And then he snapped back.

This time when he faced the room, his attention never went to you. He simply opened the door, walked through and then closed it behind himself. A movement that engulfed the surrounding area in a quietness that even the machines couldn’t help.

He stood closer to the back wall than the edge of your bed. His body was still, stance almost like a soldier, as his gaze remained aimed at whatever was in front of him. You really wished you could read minds.

“Have the doctors updated you on your condition?”

Despite the small room, there was a lack of fullness to his voice. Like it was from somewhere in the distance even though he was right there.

“Yeah,” The grogginess from waking up not that long ago was still fresh in your system even with the activeness of your mind, so when you attempted to shuffle yourself to get a better view of Gustavo you had barely even moved. “Though I could’ve make an educated guess anyway.”

His response was a mere hum, still remaining in the same position as before. It was a thing that made your eyebrows twitch, unsure if he had even meant to make that sound in the first place.

“I would’ve had you put in a more private place, but... I was was told there wasn’t enough time.” That was when he moved for the first time since entering the room. His head lowered, eyes now cast down to his shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I know you don’t like hospitals.”

Your gaze moved upwards as you turned your head towards the ceiling, a huff of air passing through your lips, “Well, I already had the surgery... Just need to be patient now.”

“I wish there were better channels on these TVs though,” you then added, attempting to break the tension surrounding every corner in the room, but when you moved your head again, you found Gustavo starting to walk.

His steps were almost silent despite what his shoes were made of. He moved slow, precise even if his attention wasn’t on the floor anymore.

And soon Gustavo had arrived at the window that looked out onto the world below. You had no idea what floor you were on but it was most likely about halfway as the sound of cars could still be heard, though a bit muffled.

Somehow the more time he spent facing away from you, the more a nervousness began to ignite within your chest.

The way he was acting was something you had only seen when he was disappointed. Upset about how a situation had gone enough so that he needed time to compose himself before speaking.

So, even if most of your body couldn’t be bothered to move, you found a way to fidget.

You stared at the wall on the other side of your bed. A multitude of fresh thoughts and worries swarming your mind in a way that was almost suffocating, until they couldn’t be contained anymore.

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice despite the utter dread of doing so. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of the heart monitor could literally be heard speeding up as your words fully settled through the air.

“Pardon?”

Your eyes may have still been aimed at the wall, but from the corner, you could see Gustavo twist away from the window. An action that didn’t at all help your nerves.

The next time you took a breath, you had almost gulped, “I realised what had been planned too late.”

“If that had happened anywhere else, I could’ve ruined the business... Lost progress.”

It was only when a new worry, the realisation of another action that had the possibility of many consequences, that you found the ability to actually look at Gustavo, “You got the machines, right?”

His brows were furrowed enough that the skin surrounding them was intensely crinkled, his eyes narrowed in a disbelief that you had never seen him display.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/n.” was all he managed for a moment, his voice going back to that lack of fullness that in turn had your eyebrows furrowing. “Did they tell you what happened? Everything?”

“You were injured during a job I set for you.” His eyes were wider now, the once clouded look within them forming into a sense of clarity though the disbelief still remained.

“And I could’ve ruined everything.” The emotions each of you felt were clashing, the brain working in the wonderous ways it always did as you both had very different viewpoints of the situation. The hard part was getting the other to understand why.

“There is a lot more important things than machines, Y/n.” Gustavo pointed out and took a few steps forward so that he was further from the window.

There was a sense of annoyance now travelling through your tired system, the irritation built up over the entire day officially starting to spark, “Which is exactly why I am trying to apologise.”

“For what? Not knowing that you were going be attacked?”

You shook your head, breaking the intense eye contact as your gaze went back to the ceiling.

Arguing was the last thing that you wanted to do right now. You were tired, weak, hungry, and now had an anger that was eager to erupt.

Two people at fault but both only thinking that one is.

After a few moments of being absorbed by those monotonous beeps again, a deep sigh could be heard. Even though you couldn’t see him anymore, it was clear that he had finally allowed his shoulders to lower. Deflate. “You got hurt.”

“Well, I think I know that, Gus.” you blurted out as your mouth seemed to be faster than your brain. Something that you immediately regretted. “Look...” You raised your head again, your hands subconsciously gliding to where your bandages grasped to your skin, “What happened... Happened.”

“It’s over... Okay-- It doesn’t matter anymore.”

It was a sentence meant to ease the situation. Words formed in a eagerness to get this whole thing over and done with, because you were quite frankly over it yourself, wanting nothing more than to fall into an incredibly deep sleep.

But all it did was make the lines of Gustavo’s face more prominent. The look across it formed into an expression that almost mimicked offense. “Doesn’t... Doesn’t matter-- Listen to yourself.”

“Why aren’t you taking this situation more seriously?”

“Well, did you get what you were after?” you questioned, trying to find at least some form of middle ground that you could then use to clear this whole thing up.

Gustavo scoffed, “I can’t believe you.” He turned himself around again, adopting the same stance from before as he stared through the window.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as much as they possibly could at this point, “Why? This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, Gus-- Hell, it will happen again.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t.”

“What do you-- What do you mean it can’t, Gustavo?” you huffed out, the sound almost becoming gargled as you began to push yourself to sit up. But you were determined to ignore the pain pulsing in your side. A deep breath shook through your lips when you got upright.

You carefully began to shuffle yourself backwards, trying to lean more comfortably against the bed, and only made an attempt to speak when you had fully decided your positioning, “The more we progress, the more likely stuff like this is going to take place. You of all people should know that--”

“You almost died!”

It felt like time had stopped for a good minute.

The sound had rung longer than the sentence itself, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the way your mind attempted to process it, or if it was really that loud.

Gustavo had faced you once again, only this time there was this active rage that covered almost every visible inch of him in a way that heavily contrasted the usual stoicism.

It was barely seen, but it looked like his shoulders lowered and raised with every breath. Like he was heaving. Heaving with disbelief, anger... and fear?

“You almost... You.” he had attempted to repeat, but there was this lack of control. An inability to get himself together like he always managed to do any other day.

He took in a deep breath, one that shook more than yours had, and practically forced himself to stand straight, “That attack was meant for me.”

“Because I got... interrupted, I wasn’t there... and then you became the target.” He was trying to gather himself. Trying to make himself look how he usually did by straightening his spine, raising his chin and adopting an expression devoid of any emotion.

But despite trying to adjust the mask.

It was starting to crack.

“Gustavo.”

“I should have gone.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

To the naked eye he was ridged, but there was this shakiness that could be seen the longer your eyes stayed on him, “I should be the one in that bed... not you.”

“You could’ve...”

One half of his nose slightly crinkled after a moment, in turn raising the left side of his top lip, and he visibly swallowed like the words he was going to speak had a horrid taste.

And then you spotted it.

It was difficult to properly see Gustavo’s eyes through the glasses as light sources reflected onto the lenses almost everywhere he looked, and at first you thought it was in fact just some reflected light.

But it would disappear when he blinked.

“Gustavo.” you spoke after a moment, practically forgetting what you sounded like at this point, and it seemed to snap the man out of his thoughts. “Close the blinds.”

At first he just furrowed his eyebrows. His dazed eyes finally moved from where they had zoned in to meet your own with a sudden confusion. And then they followed the finger pointed towards the window for the doctors.

The abrupt change in atmosphere had him just standing there for a moment, but then due to the crowdedness of his mind, it seemed that it just went on autopilot. He walked through the room, same pace and quietness as before, until he arrived at yet another window.

He cleared his throat, picked the left blind cord to take between two of his fingers and then pulled at it, taking one final look at the hallways outside before they were officially closed.

Now, the lighting of the room was increasingly lowered. You still had a slight source from the sky, but time had done what it did best. It barely brought anything to help maintain the light.

But that was the least of your concerns.

The moment those blinds had reached the ledge of the window, Gustavo's hands pressed onto either side of the surface, and he leant his weight into it in a way that seemed to take it off of his shoulders as they visibly slacked.

It was a movement that had you just staring for a good few seconds.

This was not the Gustavo that you knew. This man before you was not in control of his expressions, the way that he spoke, the way he stood. This was not a man who rose above and administered fear into anyone even if that wasn’t his intent.

This was just a man.

Just Gus.

You, very stiffly, began to try and shuffle yourself sideway across the bed. You didn’t care about the pain that pulsed through your torso, or how it felt like your arms were going to either bend or snap. You kept moving, and only stopped when it was clear to do so.

Pins and needles began to spread through your hand as you patted it down in the space you had created, turning your head more in his direction as you expected him to respond.

But he didn’t.

You stifled a sigh, “Come here, Gustavo.”

He needed a proper command. A verbal set of words that allowed him to comply to the urge you placed in his head. So, after trying to swallow the feelings that were appearing once again, he turned around.

Though this time when he fully faced you, instead of pausing like he needed to convince himself to actually walk, he moved the second his eyes lay on you.

His pace was slow like before, each step getting heavier than the previous one.

He understood.

He understood why you had been acting the way you did, wanted nothing more than to change the subject, and now why you had asked him to close the blinds.

It was to stop the outside from seeing in. Not let any other person bear witness to a moment just for the two of you.

Gustavo lowered himself to sit on the bed, his eyes not daring to leave your own in a way that properly allowed you to see behind the lenses of those glasses.

There was a line of water just peaking over the lower lid. His blinks may have subsided most of it, but it would always come back with the same amount. Sometimes even more.

“I shouldn’t have let you do the job alone.” Gustavo insisted, but it had you shake your head within seconds. “Hey,”

You took one of his hands between yours, trying to shift just a tad bit closer to him even if it hurt, “Gustavo, you need to understand that even if there was another person there, the same thing would’ve happened-- Another person would’ve been hurt instead of just me.”

“Someone would still get shot.”

That was when the eye contact had been broken.

He knew you were right. He knew that even if he had found out what had happened sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten there fast enough to do anything about it.

But there was a vast difference between understanding something and accepting it.

The expression on his face was so unusual to see, more so because it genuinely conveyed his feelings. You could see it in his eyes, the way his lips were starting to press together. Utter guilt despite the continuous insistence that it wasn’t his fault.

The action of removing your hands from his had him out of his thoughts again, though it wasn’t until he blinked that he felt where they had gone.

Each of your palms were placed on either side of his face, the centre firm against his set jaw.

The thumbs of your hands resided above the rest of your fingers, lightly gliding across the textured skin of Gustavo’s cheeks in a way that had him instinctively closing his eyes.

The weight of his head in your hold grew and it looked as if the tension in his muscled finally let him relax, even if it was just for a moment. You wanted him to stay like that forever.

“I’m glad you weren’t there, Gustavo.”

And just like that, the sentence had practically undone the moment of peace. But even when he went to lean back, he made sure that it was a distance that would keep your hands on his face.

The edges of his eyebrows were crinkled again, a mixture of concern and confusion purely visible, “How?”

The way he asked had a smile begging to curl at your lips. Though, due to the muscles of your face being too tired at this point and the fact that this definitely wasn’t the time to do so, you ignored it. “If it was you that got attacked instead of me, they wouldn’t have stopped until there was nothing left.”

Your grasp on his face became a tad more firm. Your eyes began to travel, thinking about the fact that you had never seen him so close for this amount of time before. “A shot in the side means nothing to me.”

“Y/n, how can you possibly say that?” The concern spread further than it had done before, now beginning to form into that same disbelief like it had earlier.

You slightly lowered your chin after a minute, making sure that your eyeline was directly connected to his. And then you just shrugged, a wave of emotions flooding your system at a sudden sense of safety that you had yearned to feel all day, “Because,”

“I would rather die, knowing that you were somewhere safe... alive. Than breathe in a world where you aren’t doing the same.”

It felt like it was going to be another one of those moments. The two of you just going to stare into each others eyes, equally lost. No words available that could even scratch the surface of what either of you felt.

Though it seemed that Gustavo’s ability to maintain a calm exterior faltered. He began to crumble.

His his eyebrows pinched together suddenly, his bottom lip slowly pushing upwards until it shook, and then he lowered his head out of your grasp, a wavering breath huffing out of his mouth.

He tried to speak. Tried to express something that ultimately would be left unknown as he just gave up. Understanding that it wouldn’t be able to come out the way that he wanted it to.

So, he just... sort of slumped. His head dipped a little more, his hand reaching up to grab the glasses that were close to falling.

He was overtaken. Emotions active more than he had let it in so long. Gustavo tried to wipe them away, tried to rid his eyes of the water that practically felt like a river pushing to flood.

But the dam had already been broken.

He just sat there, hands now pressed to face in an attempt to block the tears from going anywhere, even if they had already began to trail between his fingers.

You took the glasses that were almost crumpled in his grasp before folding the legs, and then slowly placed them on the bedside table while trying to ignore the pain that pulsed in your side from the stretch.

You subtly gritted your teeth, willing to forget about any feeling that was trying to present itself as you wanted to focus on Gustavo. You needed to.

So, you reached out, waiting for your hand to cup the back of his head before slowly beginning to guide it forward in a way that ultimately made the rest of his body follow.

And soon, he was laid across your chest, careful to avoid your injury.

The side of his head had managed to make his ear press right over where your heart was. Something that seemed to trigger Gustavo the moment he registered both the feeling and the sound.

Because, for the first time since he had entered the room or laid eyes on you through the window that had now been closed. He had actual confirmation that wasn’t just words from a doctor.

You were not some sick hallucination that was playing his mind, or a lie that he was trying to convince himself of in an attempt to avoid a painful truth and make him feel better. No. You were real.

You were alive.

The next breath that Gustavo took was cut quite abruptly like another had just pushed itself out. It was a sound that caught you off guard, one that you didn’t initially know how to respond to as you thought you were just hearing things.

But then it happened again... and then again. A sound that almost made it seem like he had forgotten how to breathe.

And then you heard what it was trying to cover, something else breaking through the harsh huffs of air.

He was crying.

Properly crying.

Gustavo removed one of the hands from his face and reached it under your arm so that he could grab the back of your shoulder, his fingers grasping onto the fabric the moment they made contact.

It had your arms wrapping around his body within seconds, especially when it had begun to rack with almost guttural like sounds.

His head was fully pressed into your chest now, each of his hands holding onto an arm or a shoulder tightly with such desperation as if you were going to disappear if he let go.

So, you didn’t dare move. You just held him there, unable to escape another pain as you had to simply lay in that bed, holding something that was releasing such raw cries.

Gustavo couldn’t even recognise the sounds himself. The way his body responded, the tears falling freely from his eyes, the harshness that the sobs were rushing out of his lungs. It was unfamiliar. A foreign feeling that swirled through everything else.

Truthfully, he could remember the last time he cried in such a way. He could remember when his feelings were shoved out of him regardless of his wants.

But he couldn’t think of any time when he had allowed himself to do it on his own.

Until now.

~~~

The next few days were filled with pretty much the same routine.

Your injuries would get checked, treated again if the doctors saw fit, and you had to do everything in your power to keep yourself entertained as the channels still weren’t giving you much.

And then, when it would get dark, Gustavo appeared.

He would bring this homemade soup almost every night that had your stomach growling before he had even arrived. It was also a decent sized cup, meaning that if you didn’t finish it, the hospital could store it and reheat it for lunch the next day.

Maybe after a while, others would think that having soup for more than a week would get old at some point... But no. In fact there was different ingredients used in every batch. The change could be miniscule but it was still effective.

The rest of the routine got old fast though. The days started merging, and it soon made you become unsure of when the next started or ended, as it seemed like you had forgotten how to sleep at normal times due to your exhausted system.

But then the time finally came.

The discharge from hospital.

Obviously there was still a whole lot of resting, healing and overall taking everything slow coming your way, which was a hundred percent going to prove to be a challenge. However, with the way that Gustavo appeared right by your side, even if it was just a facial expression that proved you were having difficulty, it gave you enough assurance. Comfort.

There was no word to accurately express your feelings the moment the car had pulled to a stop in the driveway. Your driveway.

What you saw out the window wasn’t a picture you had tried to think up multiple times in your head. It was just right in front of you. A house that seemed larger than you had remembered.

It almost startled you when the car door suddenly got pulled open, but after a blink you registered his figure, spotted the hands that were out and ready to aid you.

The process of shimmying your way off of the car seat was a bit of a hassle, however, your legs eventually hung out of the car, feet finally meeting with solid ground once again.

Soon, you had actually arrived inside the house.

Gustavo was to your right, stood carefully, in a way that would completely cross out any possibility of further injuring the other side of your body, as he guided you through those familiar halls which almost gave you a feeling of nostalgia. Even if it wasn’t that long ago that you walked within them.

A new wave of tiredness hit you after about a step into the living room you had yearned to see.

Everything looked the same, furniture and even the objects of décor still placed so intricately as if the room hadn’t been lived in or touched.

It smelled the same too.

“Were you cooking this morning?” you questioned, voice a bit more groggy than before, as a sort of smoky scent presented itself to your nostrils. Gustavo hummed, carefully pulling at your shoulder to direct you around the rectangular coffee table.

“You know I can walk by myself, right?” you pointed out, trying to turn your head to get a look at his face but he had moved behind you when the two of you got between the edge of the table and an armchair at the same time.

“Of course.” was all Gustavo said, still holding onto you regardless. And finally, you had reached the couch of your dreams.

Even though you had been laying around all day every day for weeks on end, the relief that filled your system over not having to walk anymore almost had your knees buckling.

“Okay,” Gustavo spoke just above a whisper, lightly turning you so that you faced the TV, “Slowly.”

A deep breath sifted in and out of your lungs. Your grip on his arm tightened and after looking in his eyes for a good few seconds, you began to lower yourself in the speed he insisted on. “There you go.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

Your nose was scrunched, along with your eyes, the further you bent as the movement slightly began to fold more and more of your body. You lost count of how many times you tried to stifle a hiss from the sharp pains that kept coming.

But even when officially sat down on the soft couch, the discomfort unfortunately remained.

You slowly leaned backwards, allowing your injured side to stretch out in a way that was fully comfortable, until your back pressed into the pillows. There was a sigh of relief that huffed out of your mouth all at once and it had the tiniest smile curling at Gustavo’s lips.

“Better?” he questioned and despite your urge to close your eyes, you just looked at him. “Better. Thank you,” you confirmed, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

But before your own could meet his, it had suddenly lowered with the rest of his body. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get onto his knees, even pushing the coffee table away so that he had more space.

And then his hands landed on your shoes, “Oh, Gustavo, you don’t--”

“Relax.”

He lifted one foot at a time, placing the bottom of your shoe on his thigh so that he could properly attack the laces. And soon, both pairs were off of your feet, now held in a singular hand.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Your voice was more hushed this time, timid, as you looked down at the man who now was just looking right back at you. And then he smiled. Such a simple, but full, smile that fit his face perfectly.

Gustavo then pressed his free hand onto the floor, moved himself back a little, and then let out a slight grunt as pushed himself up to his feet.

When he had done so you had thought he was just go, leave to bring the shoes to the area you usually kept them, so you had started to shuffle your self further into the couch.

But the next thing you knew, one of your hands was brough in a gentle grasp. The step that Gustavo had taken was to get closer to the couch, and you.

He sort of hunched forward after a moment, bringing your intertwined hands his way. And then, when it was at a perfect distance, he turned them until the back of your palm faced him.

He brought his lips to your warm skin, the soft but mildly jagged skin pressing down for a good few seconds as the breath through his nostrils slightly tickled you. And then he lifted his head a little.

Gustavo met your eyes with such a wide smile that it had almost bared his teeth.

“I did.”

And after a quick squeeze to your hand, that was that. He let go.

Gustavo adjusted the grip he had on the shoes in his other hand and simply turned, retracing his steps around the coffee table before disappearing into the hallway.

Your hand was still hung in the air. Stuck same position it had been when with Gustavo’s... and then you left it fall to your chest, landing right on top of your heart that was beating so fast that you could immediately feel it.

The smile on your face was one that felt impossibly to get off.

There was a long journey still to go, and a lot of pain to follow, but there was almost no worry when you thought about it. Because, like you had convinced to convince Gustavo of earlier, you made it.

You made it back home.

#gustavo fring x reader #breaking bad x reader #better call saul x reader #gustavo fring #gender neutral reader #gus fring x reader

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pix3lplays · 6 months

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No worries! I completely understand! I wouldn't want you to write something if you're uncomfortable with it!

Do you think I could ask for a platonic Yanqing request where the reader sees him and is just like "I'm adopting you. You're my son now" lol this was basically my reaction to seeing him in game. Bonus points if they meet Jing Yuan and still insist Yanqing is their son

Of course if you're not comfortable or even simply don't want to, you don't have to write it! I know writing requests can take a lot of time and effort so don't worry! I appreciate you even listening to my little thought!

I hope you have a wonderful day/week/month/year and drink plenty of water and take care of yourself!

Ahhh what a cute request let’s do it-

and thank you!!

-reader sees Yanqing and decides it’s adoption time-

Sure you technically ranked under him in terms of status in the Cloud Knights. Sure he already had a very capable adult looking after him already. And sure the kid knew how to defend himself perfectly well on his own. But you just couldn’t help it. The moment you saw Yanqing, it was like being reunited with a long lost child. In fact it didn’t take you long at all to go to the General and ask about Yanqing’s home environment and living situation, to which the General replied to all your questions in that calm, lazy way he does, with a growing amusement in his voice as he realizes Yanqing has found yet another person who wanted to adopt him. The General politely reminds you that Yanqing is very capable, and he’s got him looking out for the boy, so there was really no reason to worry. But this can’t dissuade you. He’s your boy, it’s your JOB to protect him. To add fuel to the fire in a way, Jing Yuan amuses himself by assigning you under Yanqing, so the two of you will have more time together. Yanqing doesn’t really know how to feel about you constantly hovering over him, checking him for wounds after a fight, asking if he’s been eating okay and feeling well… I mean. It’s not like you’re his parent. I can see him eventually getting frustrated and raising his voice at you, but he will eventually apologize, and grow to appreciate you. After all, Jing Yuan doesn’t buy food for him, but you sure will. He just needs to learn to see the benefits of having yet another parental figure in his life. Yanqing is a sweet kid though. It does get to the point where he comes to you and Jing Yuan first to show you a new sword he bought or tell you about a criminal he captured. It’s cute to see him so excited about something. You’re eventually allowed to pat his head. He doesn’t mind it once he’s comfortable enough around you, even if he doesn’t like being treated like the child he is. All in all he’s just a great choice to adopt, and he’ll learn to accept you as a parental figure. Be patient.

#honkai star rail #Yanqing #hsr Yanqing #honkai star rail Yanqing #he is sonboy am I right?#The boy of all time

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kazerflame · 4 months

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Behold! My child!

His name is Nox, because his au is named Denoxtale. [Im still working on his name. Cuz i haven't touched the au in like 2 years or so.]

Denox has no special meaning here, I took it from a napkin stand that said Dixie.

Info: [wip]

25 years old

Male

goes by he/him

Is 5"6

Has a mystery illness that weakens him. He's always a bit chilly which is why he wears his scarf and wool socks. The illness isn't contagious and cannot spread to other monsters or humans. The effects of the illness are; slow movement, tiredness, low HP, and drowsiness.

The illness affected him when he was 19 years old

Nox used to be in the royal guard and was one of the most powerful guards. But he still keeps in touch with the royals guards (mostly Undyne). Papyrus is being trained by Undyne under Nox's request.

No canon sexuality yet. You guys can ship him with your ocs and such! But please, no proshipping. DO NOT SHIP HIM WITH A MINOR!! You are free to tag me in fanart of him!

He's a chill person who won't be the one to initiate a fight.

Both him and papyrus were adopted by Gaster

The marks on his face have no meaning (yet)

Some doodles under the cut! And new character that just existed a week ago-

Small detail on his eyelids that isn't visible ---^

Casual outfit ---^

Old outfit w/ scarf ---^

Unfinished sketch of Nox and Revamped Koid (Now called Dalisto) first interaction. Dalisto has healing powers and when they first found Nox they offered to heal him and perhaps lessen the effects of the illness. It does work and now they stick together and travel to different universes.

Dalisto info:

As seen in the sketch above, they have an "infection" on their left arm. This is a slight reference to Koid who was the child of a hybrid between a skeleton and a monster bird.

Dalisto has deja vu moments when some things seem familar to them. They can't figure out why and roll with it.

Dalisto has two different personality's, kind and chill and murder.

Their face is covered by a 'cloud' of black smoke? lines? idk. It only covers the top part so their mouth is still visible

Pansexual

Stands at 6"2'.

Just popped into existence one day.

Neutral. Does whatever they want whether it'll harm them or benefit them

Their healing magic can also regenerate lost limbs and heals souls on the brink of death. If the the soul has vanished they will not be able to bring it back to life.

#my art #koid #sans oc #original character #original charater art #undertale #undertale oc #underverse oc #sans au #utmv #utmv au #undertale au #skeleton oc #undertale au oc #ut au #undertale alternate universe #please ship him with an oc plEAse #<--- optional ofc

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bettsfic · 9 months

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Hi betts! Hope you're doing good! Do you have any advice on how to distance yourself from social media? I saw that you've done so with success and the older I get the more I feel a bit trapped by the internet.

social media certainly has benefits: keeping people connected, giving a voice to those who otherwise wouldn't have a platform, and it allows you to meet new people in the context of interest rather than location.

at least, these are the things social media set out to be, and over time those benefits, to me anyway, haven't been able to outweigh the drawbacks: compulsively checking apps, doomscrolling, content appearing by algorithm to attempt to cater to my interests, and just generally a lot of wasted time.

i don't necessarily believe that if you stop using social media, suddenly you'll be able to devote every minute of your day to a higher pursuit. the brain doesn't work like that. it always needs downtime. before phones, we had television. before television, we had radio. lacking glowing screens and people telling us things from far away, i think we'd all spend a lot of time looking at the things humans are built to look at: fire, water, mountains, sky. we'll listen to stories or read them or watch them.

during your mind's downtime, i don't think anything you decide to do is fundamentally better or worse than any other thing. but i do think social media is designed to manipulate our attention toward it during that downtime (and honestly, all other times) and that pisses me off. it also pisses me off that even though we impose cause-and-effect sequences to our interaction with social media, it doesn't often provide us with a narrative the way reading, watching tv, or listening to a podcast would. stories are a psychological necessity; without the mind's ability to perceive sequences of events and connect them, we wouldn't have memories. we would have no concept of time, of thinking into the past or casting our thoughts into the future. social media, in its drive to keep us scrolling, looking at posts with no narrative connection to one another, deprives us of the stories our minds seek during our downtime.

this got super long so i'm putting it under a cut. tl;dr you need to remove social media as a positive stimulus and build immediate positive stimuli into other aspects of your life. in other words, social media feels good immediately but neutral or bad over time; most other things like reading feel bad or neutral initially but good over time. so you have to find ways to make the latter feel good with the immediacy of the former.

i don't mean to be "old man shakes fist at cloud" about this. i'm a millennial. from facebook's widespread release through the beginning of the pandemic, i raced to every new social media platform. i was an early myspace adopter. my high school graduating class was the very first year people outside of college could use facebook, and so we're the first cohort to have all befriended each other before graduation and never lost touch, completely removing the appeal of a reunion. i joined twitter in 2008 but never used it, and i joined tumblr in 2012 and never stopped using it.

i remember the day i got a smartphone. i was a few years behind everyone else. it was 2010 and i'd just gotten my first office job and i was desperate to be able to look at social media, scroll through stuff or read something, when i was bored. it was an iPhone 4. and as soon as i got it out of the box, i sat and played on it for 10 straight hours.

for those of you who are too young to remember a time before smartphones, i can't emphasize enough how much they changed things. in my life, i went from waking up and eating breakfast and reading for a little bit, to waking up and eating breakfast and getting on my computer to look at facebook and read my daily webcomics, to waking up and reaching over to my nightstand and looking at my phone.

and i don't know, i just decided i didn't want that anymore. last fall i was at this artist residency with no cell service and barely any wifi. and one day the wifi went out. i had a visceral negative reaction to that, which made me step back and go, oh wow, i am way too tethered to the internet. that day, wandering around the property with nothing to do, i got this intense urge to read an old paperback novel. you know, the mass market paperbacks with the pulpy yellow paper and the misaligned typeface. and so i found a very old copy of fellowship of the ring, cracked it open, and read it all day.

the thing about getting away from social media is that it's slow. i don't think you can really go cold turkey. when i got home from the residency, i went on a long hiatus and had all these strict rules for myself about when i was allowed to look at my phone and when i wasn't, but that didn't really work for me. but i did delete all the social media apps from my phone, and on my computer i logged out of all of them and deleted my saved passwords, so if i wanted to check them, i had to go to that extra step of logging in and even typing in my password. and that doesn't seem like a lot, but when you're checking social media out of habit, muscle memory, something to attend to that might give you a brief blip of dopamine, having to type your password is just one step too far. the brief pleasure i would get from checking my notifications was less than the hassle of logging in.

and that's what it all comes down to: feeling good. in the moment, it feels good to check a social media app, to see that somebody has interacted with your content or maybe with you directly. it's that tiny subconscious exclamation point, the feeling we get when somebody politely smiles or waves at us, when a dog comes up to us wagging his tail, when a well-meaning stranger compliments your outfit. that's the social part of social media. but that's also the part that keeps us cycling through our apps out of habit and boredom.

so you have to take away that stimulus from yourself, and you have to create positive stimuli elsewhere. to take away the positive stimulus of social media, you have to stop posting content on it. content is the mind killer. when you tweet something, your impulse might be to check that someone has interacted with it. but if you step away from the great conversation of social media, nobody speaks back to you, and you develop more patience for the longer-term good feelings of reading a book.

of course, that's complicated. i guess the first step that i did a long time ago was losing interest in traffic and developing the internal validation skills that make interaction on social media a bonus, not a need. before that, though, i had a drive to be seen and listened to. i think i just grew out of that. regardless of the existence of the internet, all people throughout history have spent their lives developing their relationship with themselves, learning who they are and coming to accept it. i'm not sure there's a way to rush that inner journey along.

creating positive stimuli is a matter of adopting a kind of little-treat attitude toward things. you have to really pay attention to yourself. the day i picked up the fellowship of the ring, i remembered that paper is important to me. vitally important. i like to write on it. i like to read from it. and it's kind of weird to say "paper is my special interest," but it is. all tools of writing interest me. so acknowledging that, accepting it and choosing to accommodate it, was my first small goal of building immediate positive stimuli.

some of the connection we have to social media (and phones in general) is the physical habit that develops from it. when smokers quit smoking, their hands feel empty. they're used to having something between their fingers, and so they replace that with something like a pen or a straw.

for me, i replaced the physical habit of phone-checking with paper-holding, either in the form of a book, or a notebook and pen. i set about finding my perfect notebook: the one that feels best to hold, the one i'm eager to fill, the one whose paper is quality enough that i love to write on it. the one i found and that kind of changed my life was a Rhodia A4 spiral bound. i take it everywhere with me. in fact i went to the doctor earlier this week and because i was holding my notebook, it didn't even occur to me to look at my phone while i was waiting for the doctor to see me, even though it was in my pocket (and i did download tumblr again, and instagram to support my sister, who is kind of a local influencer). the positive stimulus of looking at it had become less than the positive stimulus of holding my notebook. the potential to easily write something or doodle felt better than the distraction of social media.

did my doctor probably think it was weird that i was taking notes? maybe. did i look weird sitting in the theater before seeing oppenheimer, brainstorming barbie fic ideas? definitely. but i just don't care anymore. sometimes making healthy choices for yourself in a world built to manipulate your attention makes you look weird.

my advice is to spend a week without social media apps on your phone, logged out of them on your computer, and pay very close attention to the things that make you happiest. find ways to interact with those things continuously, and see what happens.

#writing advice #reading advice #social media

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ourjobagency · 9 months

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In today’s fast-paced digital landscape, the cloud has emerged as a transformative technology that empowers businesses with flexibility, scalability, and cost-effectiveness. Migrating to the cloud is no longer an option but a necessity to stay competitive.

#Cloud migration strategies #Business value optimization #Cloud journey best practices #Cloud adoption benefits #Cost-effective cloud utilization #Cloud-native applications #Cloud scalability #Hybrid cloud solutions #Cloud security measures #Cloud cost management #Cloud performance monitoring #Cloud vendor selection #Cloud infrastructure optimization #Cloud data management #Agile cloud transformation

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arkipelagic · 3 months

Text

The sacra [i.e. Visayan penis pins] and palang [i.e. Bornean penis pins] also share the same purpose: to ensure the sexual satisfaction of women.

(…) By removing the thick layers of moral blinders, it’s easy to see a current of female authority running underneath Visayan and Bornean consciousness. For whatever reason, the sexual satisfaction of women was a paramount need for them. Whether it be in the Visayas or in Borneo, a number of men were/are willing to endure pain and possible fatal infection just to install accessories on their genitals that guarantee pleasure for the women they had and have sex with.

And it seems that they do it with genuine feelings of adoration. Loarca writes that the Visayans “quieren mucho a sus mugeres [love their women so much]”. Perhaps it is this same love that drives them to extremes for the benefit of their beloved: a kind of love that is willing to go to hell just to make others feel like heaven. But adopting this view allows romanticism to cloud sober judgment. Those that relayed such information to Europeans were mostly men themselves, so we’ll never know what Visayan women actually thought about these pins. Were they the ones that imposed its use on the men because they did find it satisfying when men wore them during sex? Or did the men reach that conclusion because wearing it was pleasurable to them and assumed the same for the women?

Excerpt from “Sakit kag Kanamit: Genital Accessories in Ancient Visayas” (2021) by Pippo Carmona

#philippines #visayas #borneo #southeast asia #history #x

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solarizer0 · 7 months

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on roshambo, the dreamer.

admittedly, i have the memory of a goldfish, and don’t remember things very well, so please note that whatever follows is probably only true of the roshambo that lives in my head (who also refuses to pay rent or get out), and not necessarily true of the ro in canon.

with that out of the way!

if i had to distil the essence of season 4 roshambo into a single theme, it would be “dreams”, or the lack thereof. there are two versions of ro that exist within my mind, defined by zam’s betrayal of mapicc and ro, the two versions henceforth referred to as pre-betrayal and post-betrayal.

pre-betrayal ro was many things: carefree, playful, perhaps even endearing to his friends. but, above all, he was the epitome of the idealistic dreamer. (well, about as idealistic as one can get on lifesteal.) in addition to his strange, jarring humour, i.e. the constant jokes about bodily fluids and the other gross things that make ro’s streams utterly unwatchable if you happen to be eating at the same time, ro had height and freakishly long limbs that made him clumsy. he’d seem almost like a silly little puppy, bumbling about, tripping over his own two feet every couple of minutes. he might even have been the type to daydream, spacing out during conversations (mapicc probably going “are you even listening, ro? i swear, if you’re thinking up another poop joke, i’m actually going to kill you.” and zam, in between his own laughs, helpfully adding that he would only stop mapicc a little bit). he’d be the type to get distracted while grinding materials, solely because he thought of something that set off a tangent in his head.

this is not to say that pre-betrayal ro was all rainbows and sunshine, innocence and optimism. he was dangerous in his own right, and it would have been a costly mistake for anyone to take him for a fool. his active involvement in, perhaps even instigation of the petrification, as well as all of the duping he willingly partook in cannot be ignored. he may have seemed or, generously, really been a goofball, but the nature of lifesteal demands of everyone the willingness to hurt others, and i firmly believe that ro did have a selfish streak (here, including his teammates’ benefit, not just his own), even if he didn’t realise it.

it is difficult to explain, the way ro is a hopeful dreamer even if the rest of the server might not necessarily see him that way. this is, in my silly little head, how the petrification came to be. “isn’t it a shame?” ro, interrupting mapicc and zam’s conversation to lament the ephemeral nature of spawn, the kind of concern only an idealistic dreamer like him could bother to care, or do anything, about. dismissively, mapicc tells him to get his head out of the clouds, but zam (who i believe to be characterised by control and paranoia) sees how them being the ones to immortalise spawn can only be a win-win. with how spawn is literally the heart of the server, to permanently alter it would be an undeniable show of power, of control, over everyone else, because they probably won’t like it, but what can they do about it? and on the off-chance that everyone else does like it? well, for zam, there’s very little difference between being feared and being loved. and while ro may not have originally intended the immortalisation of spawn to be a display of power, his “darker streak”, so to speak, is more than happy to see it to adopt that more selfish intention. lastly, mapicc’s hands take those loose, floating ideas, seeing exactly how he needs to stitch them together to make them real, so he’s the one who suggests using obsidian. and thus, the petrification was set in motion.

and then, in standard zam fashion: he stabs them in the back, and runs.

mapicc is furious, of course. not because he didn’t see it coming, he did (this is zam he’s talking about), but because he didn’t think zam actually had the guts to do it. guess he didn’t know zam as well as he thought he did.

and ro? well, ro’s the only one who didn’t see it coming.

unintentionally insensitive, mapicc calls ro “naive”. ro grabs him by the neck, eyes glittering, and demands to know why mapicc kept zam around for so long and gave him so much, if he had always known that zam was going to betray them. mapicc’s silence makes ro cry.

ro cries more during the weeks that follow than he has the entire past year. mapicc knows he’s lucky if he can get ro to stomach anything at all, so he pretends to be asleep when he hears ro moving around in the kitchen at 4am, even though it’s the third time he’s had popcorn for dinner in five days. mapicc also doesn’t comment on how every single item in the base containing a hint of yellow (that mapicc himself hasn’t already smashed to shards) moves repeatedly between ro’s room and the trash can. one day it stops, and mapicc almost thinks they’re gone for good, until he realises that all ro’s done is paint over the yellow parts with red. mapicc averts his eyes when he feels ro staring at him from all the dark parts of their base, ro’s gaze digging into his back, as if trying to pry from him a confession that mapicc was going to be just like zam, and he was going to betray ro someday.

ro didn’t have a habit of keeping his summoned hands around, and for the most part he still doesn’t, except now mapicc can always see the outline of two hands, one in each of ro’s hoodie pockets. ro’s never actually showed them to mapicc, but some mornings mapicc finds him slumped over the kitchen counter with a bag of stale popcorn clutched tightly in his fist, one disembodied hand tangled in his hair, and the other held gently to his cheek. mapicc tries not to think about how the hands are wearing red and yellow adornments respectively, and mapicc definitely hasn’t ever stood in the doorway listening to ro quietly mumble his name and zam’s over, and over, and over again. (mapicc didn’t stick around the second time it happened.) (if he did, he might have seen the way ro watched mapicc leave with bloodshot eyes, intertwining his fingers with the mapicc-hand’s cold ones in a pitiful attempt at self-consolation.)

the first time ro sees zam since then, zam is tearing up the obsidian at spawn and replacing it with dirt. ro’s eyes can’t help but trail the obsidian blocks as zam tosses them away. can a wound that hasn’t begun to close reopen again?

there is hatred in zam’s eyes. ro knows, knows that he should have stopped there, should have let himself be fooled by the disguise, should have let that be closure and turn around and leave and do anything but poke further … but ro’s a god damn hopeless dreamer, isn’t he, and asking questions he doesn’t want the answers to is just what he does.

behind the hatred, zam offers a genuine apology, but there isn’t a sliver of the regret that ro desperately needs.

in a fit of grief, he kills zam.

the living nightmare that is post-betrayal ro becomes recognisable only by his physical appearance, and even in that respect, he has mutated so much. he no longer trips over his own two feet. every stride casually measured, ro gradating towards the splitting image of some kind of heavenly serpent. the way he carries himself now, every grand movement of his long, elegant limbs persuasively insistent and firmly coaxing, makes being around this version of ro stifling in every sense of the word. the jokes that come out of his mouth should, by all means, be hilarious. they’re the same jokes as before, contain the same words and the same punchlines, but it’s the detached and uninvested way ro delivers them now, as if he were reciting the lines for the sole sake of saying something, that makes it hard for anyone, even mapicc, to genuinely laugh at them anymore.

i don’t quite remember where i read this, but there was this brilliant idea that between ro and mapicc, even though mapicc seems like the mastermind, in truth, ro is the real puppeteer who’s pulling on the strings. i agree with this completely! despite how much it seems like it’s ro who’s entertaining mapicc’s violent tendencies, i believe it’s the other way round, where mapicc is the one playing along and giving in to ro’s insanity.

it might be because mapicc’s not confident that he actually has the option to say no to ro’s ideas anymore. zam’s betrayal tore apart everything ro had previously believed to be unshakable truth. (zam’s betrayal was likely glaringly obvious, yet ro was blind to it, perhaps because he’s so focused on looking at the big picture around him that he doesn’t notice the little things happening right next to him. but i also think, that even if he did notice, it’s unlikely that his idealistic nature would have allowed him to internalise the notion of betrayal enough for him to even consider that it could actually happen.) (i think that both zam and this version of ro have elements of paranoia deeply embedded within them, they just have different reactions. zam reacts to paranoia by actively trying to make sense of it, i.e. his signs, which are meant to help him “get out of his head” and work through his problems logically, fighting to take back the control that he lost. on the other hand, i feel that ro reacts to paranoia with fear, with passivity, and is likely to shy away and let it run its course because he doesn’t know how to fix it without making it worse. that is exactly what happens here. in a sense, post-betrayal ro is pre-betrayal ro, if the only thing he could ever feel is paranoia and helplessness, and it is then true that pre-betrayal ro is still somewhere within post-betrayal ro, but that might not matter at all with how irrevocably, deeply suppressed and locked away pre-betrayal ro is.) the only thing mapicc can predict about this foreign ro, is that he’s unpredictable.

and maybe, even if mapicc could “safely” leave ro, he wouldn’t, because he was there, forced to watch, horrified by what zam leaving did to ro. he’s not sure whether ro’s ever going to be mentally or emotionally capable of handling even the implication that mapicc’s thinking about leaving, and mapicc’s not going to take those chances.

that is, until he has no choice but to put ro down, the same way you set a miserably sick puppy, whose incurable condition eats away at it by the day, into sleep’s gentle hands. because ro’s not zam, doesn’t know how to fight his paranoia, and he’s not mapicc, who keeps his paranoia out by constructing walls of sheer rage. ro is just ro, is helpless against the paranoia that chews up his dreams and spits them out as nightmares, is both living through a nightmare and the living nightmare.

mapicc’s sword in his back cures ro of his paranoia.

the dreamer learns to dream again.

#roshambogames #lifesteal smp

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magmas-stuff · 4 months

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Dr. Eggman: Full Delusion (character overview)

This post aims to analyze the main antagonist of the entire franchise, Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik, discussing the facets that make up this honestly really interesting villain. Hopefully it won’t come across as too surface level, since his character is one of key importance to the entire Sonic brand.

Ego City

A look into Eggman's mind from Sonic Dream Team concept art.

Eggman (especially Classic Eggman) is, at his very core, an extremely childish individual. He throws loud tantrums when defeated, and doesn’t hesitate to gloat when succeeding. He builds expressive, toy-like robots to make up his army. His goal in life is to transform the world into a theme park built in his image. The name “Eggman” was adopted entirely out of spite.

He has a clouded view of morality, operating under the strange notion that, somehow, under his leadership, the whole world would “magically” see an age of peace and prosperity (despite referring to his own actions as evil quite frequently). And most prominently, he thinks extremely highly of himself, if all the monuments of his visage didn’t make it clear enough.

I am genius. I am great. I am brillant. I am smart. I am wise. I am an emperor.

It’s not fully known what led to this sort of behavior, but some guesses can be made. Ivo, in his own recount, did not receive much attention from his family after the passing of his cousin Maria, whose death was covered up as an accident aboard the Space Colony ARK.

He resents her for this as, in his words, she received “all that love” that he deemed rightfully his, as he was actually alive ("Right! There!"). It’s also told that Ivo regarded his late grandfather, Professor Gerald, as his “true hero.” The young Eggman was inspired by him to become the scientist he grew to be and "do good for humanity," just as his grandfather before him. Despite how greatly their methodology differs, Eggman still seemed to think he was following Gerald’s footsteps, this being especially apparent when he learns about Gerald's final moments.

Translation by @browniestash!

In Eggman's mind, Gerald was a hero, one whose research did naught but benefit humanity. But, then and there, what he saw instead was a grieving, vengeful man with the dying wish to destroy the world that wronged him, moments before his execution. Despite this provoking him to briefly question his whole goal, it did little to halt the doctor’s conquest in the grand scheme of things. In fact, nothing seems to be able to crush Eggman’s spirit, as no matter how many defeats he faces, the doctor will always come back and ready to try taking over the world again.

Need to control

Seeing as he surrounds himself with robots programmed to answer to his every command, it’s no surprise that Eggman is something of a control freak. To maintain a position of power upon others, Eggman will employ all levels of manipulation and deceit to ensure his will is carried out, and seems to struggle to think of others as anything more than pawns to his plans. And he will not hesitate to discard his tools once they stop being of use to him.

This is in harsh contrast to Sonic, a free-spirited hedgehog who stands against opression and inspires others to live out their authentic selves. Perhaps Sonic being this untameable entity is one of the many reasons that leads Eggman to hate him as much as he does, even if there is a mutual sort of respect the two share. Because it has been shown time and time again what he does with those he does not respect.

Despite all this, this manipulation does seem to have a limit, most notably during the ending of Shadow the Hedgehog, where he admits to Shadow that he lied about having built him, given that there was a big chance that would be their last interaction. Somewhere, deep within his heart, Eggman felt some form of remorse or guilt over misleading Shadow and messing with his sense of identity, so much so that he needed to tell the truth even if it meant losing a pontential pawn for his future schemes. It seems it takes mankind being entirely controlled by an alien overlord to get that out of him. This more human side of Eggman’s is also further explored in Sonic Frontiers with Sage and the doctor coming to see her as family. Overall, the theme seems to be that hiding beneath all the narcissism and basic disregard for others lies something resembling some form of a decent human being.

Conclusion

And that's Eggman. An incredibly intelligent, incredibly immature, manipulative egomaniac who loves being in control and thinks that he and he alone could singlehandedly run the entire world with his wisdom better than anyone else. As a note to end on, it'd be wrong not to link an analysis by Voiced By Mandy that discusses the relationship Eggman and Shadow have, which I can't recommend it enough.

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cloveroctobers · 1 year

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TOMMY MILLER — spring prompts 🦋

A/N: originally this was supposed to be for Joel — and I jumped on the Pedro train a little late my apologies but I can’t lie and say I’m not a bigger whore/softie for Tommy / Gabriel (this goes for the game version too!) so :) here goes nothing and if we flop, this never existed lmao! Only trying my best to write fluff for the upcoming spring season so let’s cheers to that! Happy first day of spring people!

WARNINGS: age adjustments for this piece + age-gap. Mostly following the live action ages according to their wiki except for Ellie! I aged her up some as this takes place before the events of part ii 😥 Joel is still 56, Tommy is 50, Ellie is 17, and “she” is 35…and would be a year older than Sarah. I know some might find that weird and usually I don’t write storylines around a age-gap but here we are! Tommy and “she” met during the time of the virus. So don’t drag me too much if you’re on the offense, thanks.

GIF SEARCH DONE BY GOOGLE & RIGHTFULLY BELONGS TO: @loregifs

Using prompts from this list and numbers: 2.) listening to the birds when they wake up + 6.) new beginnings + 12.) rolling down the window of the car. + 28.) adopting puppy/kitten.

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He’s still asleep while she’s on the balcony, hunched over the banister watching the town gradually come to life to start their daily routines. Being part of the main committee had its benefits, meaning one would start the day whenever they wished, which allowed her more time to just enjoy the little moments.

The air is touching spring, allowing livelihood to begin sprouting again. She breathes in the brisk air, pacing herself as the air still clings to the biting of its bitter sister while whipping by, reminding her that her asthma would not be leaving for the season just yet. The tree to the right of the house has lost one of its branches, which now lays on the roof of the house, due to the last winter storm which pushed its way through Wyoming with a foot of snow two weeks ago.

She’s not going to ask Tommy again to remove it, she’ll take it upon herself to get it down with some others later. She’s aware that he’s got a lot on his plate with Joel and Ellie back in town…along with this weighing secret Joel’s keeping from Ellie.

A sigh escapes her lips, eyes closing as she feels the brightness of the sun starting to rise behind the foggy skies. She knows if she keeps them closed a little longer, she’ll receive a morning song with the sunrise. The sun is a nice contrast against the cool but dry air in Jackson but it always brings a sense of peace.

The chirping is just enough for a small smile to split onto the corners of her lips and she listens, enjoying the sweet song the birds sing. She was never much of a bird person due to her grandmother having all sorts back in her hometown in Connecticut. She was raised mostly by her grandmother in a town that lacked diversity, since her parents prioritized work rather than spend time with her and her little brother. Sure she understood this now in her adulthood that her parents faced many challenges in their work field but as a child, of course you just wanted your parents around.

To care.

And whenever they were around, she gave them hell about it until her younger brother quickly became upset. He was on the spectrum and sensitive but just wanted everyone to get along. He loved talking about clouds and had dreams of venturing off to Iceland one day. She was thankful he got to experience it before the world officially went to shit.

Now here she stood listening to birds sing, despite being pecked, chased, and shit on by birds for what felt like her whole life and the sun was shining beneath the gray. Perhaps that was symbolism for new journeys along the way—if she bothered to look deeper at this but now was not the time for overthinking.

She did that enough on a daily basis.

“Hey, you didn’t wake me for the sunrise?” A Texas drawl called out from behind.

She turns slightly, facing the screen door to see Tommy with his head poking out beneath the door, dark hair frizzy, and slits in his eyes. He’s not much of a morning person out of the two of them and will usually need five to twenty minutes more before getting up.

He needed the sleep.

She steps to him then, wrapped in her blanket and getting a better view of the freckles that always appear sprinkled on his face whenever the light hits his skin.

“It’s okay,” she softly says, “there’s always tomorrow.”

He hums as his brown eyes peeks over her head and sniffs at the air, “c’mon in, baby. Who knows how long you’ve been out here and I don’t want anything to start acting up on you and I’m not nearby.”

“I’m fine,” she argues, making a show as she deeply inhales and puffs out a breath as she exhales, fighting back a cough, “airs not too bad.”

Tommy gives her a look, alerting her that he doesn’t believe any of the words she’s saying to him. He knows she can get lost in nature for hours, making him think it reminds her of her old home.

He suggests, “Let’s go for a morning drive for a bit before we really start the day, huh?”

“I’d like that.” She smiles at the man who mirrors it back, “we haven’t done that in awhile.”

The pair lived in the most active part of Jackson, right in the heart of the western town where most of the houses were almost on top of each other. There wasn’t much that got pass this part of Jackson and it only made sense since she and Tommy helped keep this town running. Surely she preferred the more secluded parts, which is what she was grew up with but to be married to someone so extroverted changed that.

“Yeah, we sure haven’t. Let me get dressed.” Tommy says with a nudge of his head, inviting her back into their home.

She nods at him, glancing over her shoulder in the doorway as he exits, sending another smile to the birds before closing the door.

Tommy’s driving in the pale yellow Camaro he picked up from his last scouting trip, it’s his new toy that she teases him about since he’s kicked her Chevy SUV to the curb. She’s laying with her arm resting against the door, cheek pressed into her balled up arm, with her black faux fur blanket still wrapped around her and Tommy’s got one hand resting on her thigh.

He’s shuffling between keeping his hands on the steering wheel, steering with his knees and twisting his arm all kinds of ways to get a cassette into the radio slot. The dirt road is empty and full of green hills along with loops that remind her of the path that leads to Ellie and Dina’s home. This part of Jackson feels familiar and like what she’s used to but she knows she doesn’t have to feel alone.

A soft beat begins to play through the car just as she’s rolling down the window. Tommy lightly shakes his head at his wife, who welcomes some of the air through the crack and receives that there seems to be something on her mind. Lately it seems like he’s been so busy with not only the community but rebuilding his relationship with Joel and his additional niece Ellie—although they’ve been back for about two years now, it did not go unnoticed that there’s been something on his wife’s mind.

Surely he was going to get to the bottom of it on this drive.

“What do you know about this?” Tommy quizzed, taking his hand off her thigh briefly to twist the volume knob, before placing his warmth back on her sweats.

She snorts as she listens to the lyrics of the 80s jam, a little shocked it wasn’t Pixies or some rock song this time. However she believed Tommy always picked songs that fit the mood.

…In time you will see

That love won't let you down

You said that you loved me

Said hurt only came to pass me

It sounded so convincing

That I gave it half a chance

And learned the ways of love, my baby

There is so much love inside me

And all that I have

I give my all to you

All, all my love, baby.

She joked, “Did this one play at your prom, old man?”

Tommy scoffed, “i was nine when this came out in 1982 so nice try but even then, I knew good music when I daggone hear it.”

There was a fifteen year age gap between her and Tommy but that’s never been a issue given the circumstances of life now and probably wouldn’t be much of a issue if things were different. However she couldn’t be certain if the infection didn’t cross the globe if their paths would even align. She had southern roots thanks to her maternal and paternal grandparents yet she’s only ever visited Georgia to see her paternal grandparents, cousins, and friends she’s made out there.

Georgia was a long way from Texas.

“Look at you listening to love songs at just a little baby…I’m starting to not believe the whole never been in love until I met you line.” She sat up then, head resting against the headrest while playfully peeking at Tommy, ready to get him riled up.

Tommy shook his head, “I told you before, pre-Tommy was a whole ‘nother person, all about fun moments and keeping those memories strictly as that…temporary. I didn’t like to be attached although I knew I was very capable of loving someone.”

His past relationships did not matter to her. It never did because a new life was happening now, with her and their relationship most likely wouldn’t exist because they lived on different sides of the map. She trusted him to be a good partner and she equally wanted to be the same. The love or lust before was not a factor on both ends because Jackson was about redemption and growing forward.

If they couldn’t see that with each other then there was no need to continue on with this commitment. However she liked sparking this compassion from Tommy just for a sense of not only laughs but perhaps a bit of reassurance?

“I love you.” She slipped a hand around the back of his neck, lightly caressing the warm skin beneath his jacket.

Tommy glanced over at her then, pure light in his dark eyes as a smile quirked up beneath his facial hair, “I love you too…with all of this love.”

“Oh gosh, the corny is killing me. Make it stop!” She gagged at Tommy’s singing while he laughed at her, putting the car in park.

It was his turn to face her, gripping her jaw to place a kiss on her temple. Soon she unbuckled herself from the seat so she could sit in Tommy’s lap who welcomed her with open arms. Together they sat, his arms locked around her waist and her head tucked in between his neck and shoulder.

To be held by the one you love, what more could she ask for?

She could fall back to sleep in the comfort of Tommy’s arms just then. The prickle of his beard against her brow bone, the firmness of his hands secured around her frame, his steady breathing, her light grip from underneath his bicep, and his scent of white musk and eucalyptus was enough for her this morning.

Sometimes people just need to be held by the right person.

Tommy was ready for her to fall asleep. It’s not like it was uncommon for her to rest against him and as much as she claimed he needed rest, he wanted her to take care of herself just like she took care of him. The flutter of her eyelashes fought against the closing of her lids that it made Tommy grin, silently encouraging her to just let go but one thing about his baby, she was a fighter which provided a nice contrast against her dainty appearance.

Her glossy grayish-brown eyes popped back open, eyes gazing out at the scenery while Tommy quickly shifted his eyes elsewhere so he wouldn’t get called out for staring. He followed her line of sight and immediately wanted to reach for what was in the backseat.

“What’s that?” She asked, sitting up as she put more strain on one eye than the other.

It was confirmed by one of the new nurses that she was losing her sight in one eye quite quickly. It was mostly caused by a injury with a clicker that sent her through a glass window face-first but blindness was also hereditary on her mother’s side. Who truly knows what life continues to throw at you? In whatever way, it was not something she dwelled on.

Tommy nodded as he pulled his shotgun up and over the console, “uh huh, I see it.”

She was out the door before he could get the safety off and that sent his heart rate spiking.

Her feet stomped over the rising grass, ignoring Tommy’s hushed calls as she slowly approached the animal. It had height to it, straggly mixture of grey and black hair with a heavy bone structure.

“Honey, I don’t know what’re you’re thinkin’ but you can’t just run up on dogs like that! We don’t even know if it’s infected.” Tommy stated as he took stealthy steps behind the braided woman.

She slipped a hand into her pocket, holding the thermometer up in the air to silently answer the man’s question who couldn’t help but to deeply scowl.

Squatting down she kept some distance between her and the dog who put it’s head down, sniffing in her direction. Her hand slipped into another pocket, reaching for something green before she lightly tossed it in the dog’s direction. Carefully the dog stepped forward to bite into the green bean, allowing her to slowly get closer to aim the thermometer and get a temperature reading.

“He’s clear.”

Tommy still circled around, gun slightly lowered but not completely as he watched her smile at the dog.

“It’s still a ugly lookin’ thing.”

She scolded Tommy, “don’t talk about him like that! He actually might think you’re the ugly one here.”

‘That’s not possible.’ Tommy thought to himself.

Rubbing his back, she cooed at the animal, “he didn’t mean it boy, he’s just being mean because I didn’t signal that I was coming to introduce myself to you.”

Tommy couldn’t help but to shake his head in disapproval, taking a moment to survey the area to make sure the unattractive animal didn’t lead any unwanted attention. When he turned back, she was still petting him, this time the dog was licking at her hands and seemed to be enjoying his pets as he sat.

“…this isn’t your first time meeting?” Tommy guessed.

She sighed, “no. Joel’s grumpy ass scared him off last time with the horses when we patrolled. You have no idea how bad I wanted to kick his ass…at least you’re being better about this…besides the whole verbal bullying you just afflicted on him.”

“I wasn’t bullyin’,” Tommy started, “I just wanted you to be careful.”

“Yeah and you took it out on someone who didn’t deserve it.”

Tommy sighed, “I—I never took you as a dog person anyway. I would have thought cats.”

“Are you gonna get me a cat for my birthday?”

“Probably not, honey. They’re kinda creepy.”

‘Creepier than people turning into walking funguses? I think the fuck not!’ She thought.

“Then we’re taking him home!” She beamed as she rubbed behind his ears, “hear that?! We’re gonna get you home, bathe you, feed you, and you’ll fit in with the rest back at home, I’m sure of it. And if you don’t, you’ll stay with us.”

“The hell he will.”

The sharp look she sent the curly haired man was enough to get him to clear his throat and almost straighten up. It’s not like Tommy didn’t care for dogs, hell, he was thinking of getting one before Sarah came into the picture—not that he was comparing his niece to a got damn dog! Fuck, he knew she was probably sending him a mean mug from up above right now. It’s just that the loneliness he faced at his own townhome in Austin was erased when life granted him with a niece.

Sarah was his just as she was his brother’s.

Now his wife wanted to bring a dog (as if they didn’t have enough in the community) into their life and it seemed like she already had a connection with it, that Joel didn’t tell him about at all! He could also argue that his own wife didn’t tell him she was forming a bond elsewhere.

The laughter that sounded from her as she got to her feet, facing him with a smile that reached her shining eyes made his heart swell.

Happiness was all he wanted her to have. He was happy if she was happy and he felt himself breaking.

“What if it’s got fleas?”

“Hello…veterinarian school?”

Which was true, she knew what to do and since the community was well-off to take care of everyone and everything, She had what she needed if any of the animals got sick.

“Right…Dr. Dolittle here.”

“Was that a jab, Tommy?” She pointed at the man who immediately shook his head in defense.

“Not really.” He shrugged his shoulders innocently before continuing, “I’m not afraid to say I was in the theaters when that one came out for Sarah…although I love a good comedy family film.”

That’s funny, that’s when she knew she wanted to work with animals after seeing that film. Unfortunately she couldn’t hear the actual voices of the animals she worked with but she still knew how to communicate with them. She can only imagine tommy taking the time to spend with his niece and that brought a smile to her lips.

“So you’ll love him?”

“…I can try?”

She patted the dog’s back, “see it only took some convincing. We just have to find you a name and it’ll have to flow nicely with your sibling.”

A frown dug in between Tommy’s brows at the end of her sentence. It slipped so easily from her lips that Tommy was unsure if he heard her right. She was getting ready to turn and head back to the car with the dog in at her side but Tommy steps towards them.

“What was that?”

“Hm?” She took her attention away from the dog who began wagging it’s tail.

“That last part of the sentence. About the dog having the same sound as it’s..sibling? Meaning what? the other dogs?” Tommy pried.

She tapped on her chin then, pretending to think about it, “I’m thinking Silas for him and Milo, Tyrus, or Linus for this one.”

Tommy watched with wide eyes as a hand rested against her clothed belly.

“A-Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Maybe…what’re you thinking?”

“You’re pregnant, honey?”

“Uh huh. You’ve got two extra babies now.”

Tommy wanted to curl into a ball of happiness hearing this news. He never thought he would be a dad way back then and he certainly didn’t think now…especially with the way things were and she hasn’t had much of a cycle in years. Of course there were discussions of what ifs but it’s not like they were deliberately trying.

His put the safety on and slung the gun around to his back. He exhaled, his hands raised in air before gripping at his hair in astonishment.

“We’re gonna be somebody’s mommy and daddy?”

“Damn straight.”

“Hell yeah we are!” Tommy grinned as he reached forward to lift her up by the waist, gently spinning her in the air before he quickly put her back on her feet, “shit, are you having any nausea? did I just cause it?”

“No love, we’re okay. Just fatigue sometimes. I’m about thirteen weeks according to Rosita’s ultrasound.” She breathed with a smile, flicking her hair back.

“Thirteen weeks?! Holy shit! He’s gonna be here in no time…wait Linus? There’s no way we’re naming our kid Linus—that’s out.”

“Okay let’s talk about it,” she laughed, “walk with me.”

“It’s clear we have a lot to talk about!” Tommy slipped an arm around her waist, peeking down at her baggy clothing as they made their way back to the car.

He halted as she started to give him the details and glanced back at the dog who had its head down but stayed put. He whistled at the animal with a nudge of head, “c’mon, dog! You’re comin’ with us.”

“Silas.” She whispered up at Tommy.

Tommy corrected himself, “Silas! Let’s go home.”

Silas perked up and trotted after the couple, hopping into the backseat as Tommy intently focused on her, their hands clasped together as he held them to his lips, ready for their new beginning.

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Continue along with my spring anthology prompts here.

#tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tommy miller #Tommy miller x reader #Tommy miller x black! reader #joel miller #ellie williams #Ellie miller #ellie x dina #spring prompts #spring prompt #spring prompts 2023 #queued

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