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#dominika answers
masivechaos · 1 year
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📜 no <3 - send me this -> i'll handwrite you a little note! (MOOTS ONLY)
This pretty please🥺
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midearthwritings · 2 years
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11, 21 and 62 for ask game, please💙
Thanks for the ask!
11: Do you like someone?
@shethereadinghobbit
21: What are your plans for this weekend?
Well it's not the weekend so I don't know yet! But I suppose I'll just chill a bit :)
62: What makes you happy?
Tattoos, animals, science documentaries, dolls and my friends!
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dracoslittleangel · 2 years
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HOW IS MY DEAR WIFE DOING?? I HOPE YOU'RE DOING AMAZING!!! I HOPE YOU'RE RESTING OVER WEEKEND❤❤🌼
I LOVE YOU VERY VERY MUCH🌸🌸🌸❤❤❤❤
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Yes, I am always here for you🥺🥺⚘
QUDUUW MY LOVE IM DOING FINE THANK YOU FOR CHECKIN UP ON ME!!
HBY? I HOPE YOU ARE DOING GREAT AS WELL JUST KNOW ILYSM HONESTLY I DON'T DESERVE YOU😭😭😭
p.s: IM always here for you as well<3
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dragonagitator · 2 months
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House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?
Scenario parameters:
All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.
You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.
You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.
Questions:
So, what do you do?
How much would you tell House?
How would you get him to believe you?
Who else would you tell?
How much would you tell them?
Inspiration:
The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.
(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)
My short answer:
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My long answers are below the cut.
So, what do you do?
My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.
My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.
Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."
Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:
A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.
Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.
Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.
Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.
Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"
Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.
I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.
Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.
I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.
Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.
Possible sidequests:
Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.
Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.
Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.
How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?
Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?
My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.
If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.
I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)
Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.
Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?
There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.
My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.
House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.
I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)
I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.
If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.
What would you do?
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✦✧✦✧ 𝗔 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗿𝘆
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ɪ ᴋ ᴇ ᴍ ᴇ ɴ ᴠ ɪ ʟ ʟ ᴀ ɪ ɴ ꜱ JUDE × READER 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞-𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬
✦✧✦✧ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 Jude, Ellis 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 fluff, crack, slice-of-life 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 2300+ 𝗣𝗛𝗢𝗧𝗢 Dominika Roseclay 𝗩𝗜𝗗𝗘𝗢 Enrique Silva
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ONE OF THE BIGGEST CLICHES IN THE BOOK is falling asleep out in the open—you know, a hallway, a dining room, or in this case, a drafty library inside a secluded castle—and then waking up all nice and wrapped-up in the hero's coat. Swaddled like a baby.
But Jude probably hasn't acquainted himself with those types of books, or he doesn't care for what is or isn't cliché. Or, chiefly, he knows that neither of you would consider him to be a hero, not in a million years, or in a million-million.
Truth be told, he probably doesn't care. About you, that is. After all, there's an inverse relationship between caring and carrying coin. Something that London teaches you right off the tit, even if one does pride themselves on being an optimist. So while Jude may have seen it within some realm of personal etiquette to toss his coat on you (it looks like he placed it gingerly…), as well as half-heartedly attempt to pin it around your shoulders (most likely to keep those godforsaken sleeves from dragging on the ground; why else would he drape one of them over your eyes?), you would be a fool to fish for any other meaning.
In fact, you'd do well to remember that you've known Jude and his dodgy colleagues for less than forty-eight hours. Forty of which you've spent embroiled in equally-dodgy encounters. Being alive is truly something you've been taking for granted.
But of course, you fish for that other meaning anyway, and you smile like the proper fool that you are. A pleasant warmth dawning over your mouth and cheeks until your upper teeth sit flush against your bottom lip. A delightful spot of sun that eases the stiffness from your jaw, and eases the pressure boiling to temperature in your temples (half the reason you dozed off in the first place). All very welcome side-effects after the horrendous nightmare of the past couple of days. Whether you're wrong about Jude and this one, tiny, insignificant-in-the-grand-scheme-of-things gesture, you needed this win.
Without fully understanding the implications of your decision to believe in him, you sit up in your armchair and watch Jude, who is at present perched on one of the library ladders on the landing across the atrium.
A faint glint focuses your attention on something you only vaguely registered in your waking state. It appears Jude donned a pair of reading glasses sometime during your nap. Peculiar, small, round lenses locked into a frame most noteworthy for how ordinary it is. But the overall effect of the glasses is even more striking. They sit on Jude's canted cheekbones with little fanfare and fuss, all the while annihilating the gangster from him and sanding his rough edges down into something almost innocent.
Except for that nasty glower he's hurling back your way. So pointed and menacing that you can feel it shoot up through your sinuses and all the way to the back of your skull.
Rude.
Jude shifts his weight on the ladder. "That's one hell of a stare," he grumbles to himself, just on the edge of audible from where you're seated. "Right creepy, innit."
"Not really, Mister Jazza," answers Ellis, on standby two meters to his right.
"Rhetori—" Jude turns his back to you, flounders for something, grabs a sheet of paper off a shelf, and flings it at Ellis. "It was a rhetorical question!" The paper barely gets within a meter of Ellis before beginning a lilting descent to the floor, with all three of you watching on in awkward silence, until finally Ellis crouches and delicately pinches it just before contact with the wood.
The young man uprights himself, then gently blows on the paper as if to clean off any dust it accumulated during its brief flight. After, with just one of his gangling strides, he covers the distance to his employer. But before handing the paper back, he jerks to a stop, hesitating, his mouth giving a curious spasm. The picture is clear from your vantage point. Ellis is no doubt amusing over how even whilst mounted on a ladder, Jude fails to reach his height. How one day Ellis might even discover a bald spot on Jude's head long before the man himself does. But the moment passes and Ellis fixes his mouth before dutifully presenting the paper. "You dropped this, Mister Jazza."
"I bloody well see that!" Jude snatches the paper as Ellis withdraws his hand the way one might flinch from fire. The library railing blocks most of your view of the next bit, but you can assume from the crinkling sound that Jude is smoothing over the wrinkles on the sheet (for which he is to blame) against his thigh. His hand and paper come back into view before he slaps the paper back onto the shelf. Whether he realizes or not, the adventurous little sheet slips off the edge anyway.
Watching this entire exchange you can't help the bubble of mirth building in your throat. After a second or two of trying to seal the laughter away behind silent, chest-thumping hiccups, the entire library fills with your bright cackle, during which Jude's overcoat slides from your quivering shoulders, hitting the floor in a whump of weighty fabric. Well, at least that weight is no longer turning you into a human furnace. The library draft actually feels refreshing.
But even a cheated-on wife would lose against the utter carnage of Jude's expression toward you. If his stare breaches bone, his glare outright disintegrates it. You think he might hawk a spit when he goes to say "I ought to yank your pretty little teeth out for that."
You sit forward in your seat, hands latching onto the armrests as your laughter tapers off. "An upstanding gentleman like you has only one coat now, has he?"
"He has two," answers Ellis, helpfully.
"Rhetorical. Question." Jude sighs, a line of shadow falling over his eyes as he descends the ladder. The glasses come off. Get tucked into a breast pocket. Without them, Jude's glare is truly biblical, and like casting judgement he points a finger you could swear he's been dying to point at you ever since he first laid eyes on you. "Pick that up before I get me pliers. And need I remind you that this library here's for reading? Reading, researching, studying"—he withdraws his hand and holds up a finger for each item—"or pretending to read, research or study. Now. Did you at any point hear me list 'taking a fucking nap' amongst these noble activities?"
You stare.
Jude stares.
Ellis stares.
Jude snaps his head to Ellis. "Well then, did you?"
Ellis shimmies, startled. "Uhm, did you want me to answer that one, Mister Jazza?"
"Please and thank you, Mister Twilight."
"You're welcome, but I haven't done anything yet."
Jude flares his nostrils and huffs past Ellis without another word.
You assume the conversation to be over until Jude takes the corner and suddenly begins bounding toward you. For a second the thundering clack of his shoes overtakes all other sensory input. Mid-stride, he grabs a book off a shelf to his side without looking. In fact, his eyes refuse to leave you, holding your sight with such electric intensity that you start to worry the whole coat thing might be a greater faux pas than you initially thought.
Another part of you worries about the part of you fixating on Jude's eyes. That shock of purple, like anemones, but also not unlike the glaze off a bruise. Every step he advances encroaches onto your world the hues of violence and vitality, the hues of…
Jude clicks to a stop before your chair, hair disheveled, lips drawn into a line. He stands backlit, chest out, muscled legs astride, holding himself larger-than-life in a way no ordinary man would even think to. Maybe it's borderline parody, even, but you're the one still looking at him, the one taking fervent inventory of his motley collection of scents; London in the springtime, London in the dark, London drowned in smoke, and like an eye-catching garnish, the citrusy tang of bergamot.
Look upward and you're trapped in the pistil of his gaze, where running away feels like it'd invite certain death, and where running is somehow not exactly the thing you want to do.
What changed in the last five seconds? Him? Or you?
Jude extends his hand, the open cuff on his sleeve framing his slender wrist like dove wings.
Without thinking, and with your heartbeat suddenly flooding the entire room, you lower your hand onto his surprisingly soft palm.
What is happening? You—
Jude's shapely brows suddenly look like they're about to strangle themselves. He flicks your hand away as if swatting a fly. "Me coat, damn you! Hand over me coat!"
"I got it, Mister Jazza!" Ellis darts around the atrium, slides onto the floor, skids under Jude's arm, snatches up the coat and uprights himself in the smoothest sequence of movement a set of human limbs has ever executed. But when he holds the coat out for Jude, all he's met with is a scowl that makes vengeance look like affection. Ellis tilts his head. "...?"
Jude's response isn't immediate. A troubled sheen glosses his gaze. He works his jaw, casting his eyes to you for enough of a fleeting second for you to understand that you and his hesitation are inextricably (and damnably) tied. And that's how you know his next words to Ellis are a lie. "Aren't you going to blow the dust off it like you did with the paper?"
Ellis smiles suddenly, throwing you a sidelong glance as well, one of joyful knowing. "I was going to, but I remembered the look you gave me last time, so I didn't."
That very look gets directed at Ellis anyway. Jude rips the coat from the young man's grasp. "Get the carriage ready. Let Victor know not to wait up."
"He's going to wait anyway."
"Tell him anyway." Jude surprises you by placing the book he's holding in your care. Before you can react, he turns partially away to don his coat. The motion is grand and showy, and again you're struck by that captivating impression, of this little man being much larger-than-life than he seems. The library seems too small for him, for his ambitions. The castle is a pit-stop, an outhouse, on his map to greatness. You can't take your eyes away, but you do roam them, examining the whole of Jude, just a little closer, with a little more care, and a little more curiosity. Far more than you would have before. And again, you ignore the implications.
Only now that Jude has his coat back on do you realize how diminutive and almost frail he looked without it. Not weak. Grand. But frail. And only then do the needles of guilt arrive, writhing up from your stomach and stopping up your throat. All for letting that damned coat sit on the floor for so long.
Just because Jude is a villain doesn't mean you have to be an ass.
Jude settles the errant creases over his chest. Whatever sour mood had seized him only moments earlier is nowhere to be found, and this is after you take into account that is default expression is a mild scowl.
Does Jude know how to smile sweetly? Just as you think it, his gaze intersects with yours. Again that anemone, that bruise-like hollowness. For an instant, you two stare at each other, nakedly, across a space you just happen to occupy with the trappings of reality. Something in your heart changes shape, for the second, maybe third time, in the last few minutes.
Then just as quick, his sour look descends on his brow twofold. "God, how many creepy expressions can one person have?"
You kick his shin. You don't even realize it until you've done it. You kick it again.
"Bloody—what is your problem?!"
Ellis bends down to your level. "Is your foot okay?"
"Foot?! What about my leg!?"
"I'll stop by the good doctor on my way to Victor."
Jude rubs his face and heaves a sigh worth a thousand words. "Oh, don't bother." Then a smile cracks over his features. "I'll just be adding this," he gestures to his shin while heckling with you a smug grin, "to the running tab."
You hang your head. Was it too late to stomp the hell out of that stupid coat?
Ellis pats the top of your hand. "Don't worry." He stands up and holds his hand out for you to take.
Jude swats it away. "I ain't done talking here. I gave you a job, go fucking do it."
Ellis shrugs and imparts a rueful smile to you before making his exit. Once you're alone with Jude, he nudges his chin to indicate the book he gave you.
It's a well-worn volume, leather cracked and binding frayed. The title seems familiar to you but you can't pinpoint why. When you look up at Jude for some sort of hint, he rolls his eyes and turns around with a swish of his coat. "I ain't got any use for a fucking narcoleptic. Even someone as daft as you should be able to read this." Saying nothing further, he walks out the way Ellis went.
Rude. Rude. Rude. Rude. Ru—
The answer comes to you. The book in your hand is on the same subject as the book you'd fallen asleep while reading. The book that's oddly nowhere to be found now.
You flip through the pages on a hunch. Jude was right. The words are simpler. And there's notes, tons of them, crowding the margins.
"You stupid ass," you hiss into the empty library as you throw your head back against the chair with a thunk. But your anger dissipates with your next breath, replaced by something almost serene. Something you don't want to assess the implications of. "I didn't fall asleep because the words were too hard."
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Thank you for reading! I own literally 0% of the jokes in this, and my characterization is based on what I've seen others in the fandom produce.
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mctna2019 · 2 months
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House M.D.
Ah, I finally finished House. it's a great experience and I really loved this series. it was a full and real life. I fell in love with the characters and their acting, especially Hugh Laurie. he is gorgeous, with those deep blue eyes. but something really bothers me. I think House is dead, does anyone else think the same as me? considering he couldn't simply run away from that burning building. of course, I didn't want him to die, but Wilson's death, how will House really deal with it?I think reading this theories is helpful.
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Who's crying here?! I love their relationship.
please tell your opinion and your fav character in this show or whatever you want. (I love House, Wilson, Chase and Dominika more than others but I really like everyone here)
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imnotgoinganywhereok · 6 months
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We went live on Wednesday. Training was over, assignment passed, time to work. Yesterday at 3 I had ✧˖° the worst °˖✧ call imaginable with an Irish guy so far up his ass that he didn't even let me help him despite my best intentions, THREE consults with my manager (yikes), and me trying to ignore his xenophobia. I'm gonna start biting for real at this rate. Really, you get to answer and help out people that are just so lovely, and you're satisfied, and then you get a bozo like this... I don't wanna think about it anymore. I'll try to forget his nasty ass, I'm gonna have to pull through til the end of the year!! X_X
Baltazar isn't the type of person to care all that much about children. He doesn't dislike them but he isn't really a good dad material. And yet, he took his time to skillfully craft a toy robot for Dominika. What prompted this? Who knows!! But Dominika loved the gift - and was surprised to get it, too - and decided to play with it immediately. Maybe Bal is less of a deadbeat than he thought. After all, he spent a small fortune to furnish her room and accomodate the rest of the house for the soon-to-be fully fledged mermaid. 🫧🧜🏼‍♀️🪸🐚
Apart from Baltazar discovering his new unnecessary feelings (one day late for the joke, sorry AA fans!!), his life is still filled with big parties and chaos. Good food, tons of alco- sorry, juice, and subtle cheating, and you've got yourself a typical social event at Bal's house. Ah, everyone is always dressed so neatly, I don't know what to say!! The rest of the year is passing slowly, slowly, until Winterfest came. The holiday was quiet and intimate, with the visit of the immortal Father Winter. Nothing crazy happened, everyone's still alive. Ah, to live peacefully like this is my dream!! ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡⋅☾⋅☁️ ˚₊‧
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veritasss5 · 10 months
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Hello, love, I hope you're doing amazing! I hope you're taking care of myself!💐💐
Can I please join in your lovely recent game? If not, it's totally okay🩵🤗
I am Dominika, people call me Domi 🩵🤗
Password for reading: why is it important for you 'beauty?'
Beauty is important for me because I think when person feels beautiful, life is more beautiful for them. I think self love is really important and when you don't love yourself, you don't see yourself beautiful, how can you see the world beautiful? This is something I need to learn🩵🫶 I hope this isn't weird/confusing answer...
Thank you very much and take loads of care!! 🌷🧚‍♀️
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Hello Domi!! I hope you are doing great as well♥️ thank you so much for being considerate! Your answer is totally fine, don't worry, I understand where you are coming from.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Nurturing energy. I think your hair is very beautiful and silky. Something flowery can suit you to enhance your beauty, could be a floral perfume, clothes, or warm colours. The more you are confident, the more you are beautiful. People can easily forget beauty standards if you show them that you are self aware and confident. Your eyes are beautiful as well (I think you have dark eyes right?). You have a lovely energy so you can attract people by enhancing your energy and feel that you are magnetic. Your vibe can be easily one of your best beauty traits. You can invest more on your physical appearance to enhance your natural features. The beautiful thing is that you can give a sense of stability to others, that is something that only a few people can do it well.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Thank you so much for trusting me and have a nice day or night!✨ don’t forget to show gratitude after the reading♥️
Reminder: if you don’t say at least “thank you”, I will remember to not give you future readings from me.
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thespiritoflife · 2 years
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Hey Dominika!!!! Sending this to my favorite mutuals. You have worked so hard and gave us wonderful stories and content. You are loved. You are appreciated. You are... AMAZING!!! Show off a little! Because I would if I were your fantastic self! 😍😍😘
1. Which one of your fics/art piece is your favourite?
2. Which one of your works did you think was going to be a hit, but didn't do as well as you'd hoped?
3. Which one of your works did extremely well, beyond your expectations?
4. Which one was the first fic/art that you shared?
5. Which one is your latest?
hii francesca! 🥺❤️❤️ am i your favorite mutual??! stoop, i am blushing so hard!! ❤️❤️🥺
and thank you so much for your kind words, i needed to see it today!!! you brought a smile on my lips🥺❤️ i love you so much and i hope you know that the same goes to you!! you're so talented and beautiful inside & out. i am so happy i met you here <333 like i am always so shocked that YOU're friends with me!! ❤️❤️🥺❤️❤️ you're a sweetheart, i appreciate YOU🥺
and now to answer your very very good and BRILLIANT questions!
1. oh, let me think.. i think it is this one fic-miniseries from Bridgerton fandom, especially first part. At the time when I wrote the fic it was hard time and when I put my feelings into the fic it helped me feel better <3
2. this happens too often! 😄 my little self always hopes this fic will be hit.. and well, it isn't. but that's okay! it happens. the last time it happened was when I was writing this fluffy fic (from Stranger Things fandom) I was proud of it, I think there is also a minimum of grammatical errors, i think🤗 writers should write for themselves not for many notifications, right?❤️
3. can i say two, please? 🥺❤️
definitely this one (from LOTR fandom) and this one (Outer Banks) ! i absolutely haven't expected these many notifications. when i posted it, i thought a minimum people will like it. and i was happy when i saw many people like it!!
4. this fluffy one (the hobbit fandom)! it was almost 2 years ago. oh my gosh, time flies so quickly!! i was so insecure about posting it and when i saw cute comments and reblogs from famous writers, i was so glad!! and i am still grateful🥺
5. the latest is this one! (Outer Banks) i am really proud at this one, it's my the most popular fic! 😭❤️
Thank you so much for your ask, I really love this questions and enjoyed asking this! Buut.. what about you, Francesca?? What are YOUR answers? Tell me, please, I am curious!
And little reminder for you and for you all: you all are talented. keep going, keep shining <3
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blackthunder137 · 2 years
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My dear May,
how are you doing? Please, answer honestly🥺🌸 I hope life is good to you!
Please, take care, take rest and remember I love you, we all love you!
Here you have some cute gifs that can (I hope so!) brighten your mood🥺🌸
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isn't it cute?🥺
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Also, some cupcakes🧁🧁 I hope you love cupcakes
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Also, I need to know, who is your platonic crush, please? 😌 So I can send them next time to you! ♥️
Have lovely day as lovely you are🦋
Dominika, you are the definition of perfect. You are always there to brighten my day ❤️. I love you so so much and I'm doing good. You deserve the whole world and a lot more than that too. I hope you are taking care of yourself too. I'm always here for you, no matter what. Just keep that in mind 😌. You have no idea what magic you bring to this world ✨️. They are such cute gif. I LOVE THEM ALL!! The bunny and the ducky are so so cuteeee and the cupcake, I would love to have one. My platonic crush would be Draco Malfoy. I hope you have a marvelous day and I hope you have the best day ever. I love you. Keep that in mind 💕.
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lazydreamer19 · 2 years
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When you get this you have to answer with 5 things you like about yourself, publicly. Then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers
Thanks Dominika! Sorry for answering this late!
1. I love the fact that I am brave but also practical and think several times before making a decision.
2. I love my writing abilities the most.
3. I have learnt singing, art, and dancing previously. Dancing is a long gone ability, because I was eight when I left it.
4. I am super competitive.
5. I read thesaurus just for fun and learning 🙂
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masivechaos · 2 years
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🥺👉👈
heey, i know i don't know you.. BUT! your blog is so pretty!! it's so aesthetic!! wow! <3 i really love it!
hii! omg you’re so sweet! thank you <33
your blog is so pretty too!
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midearthwritings · 2 years
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Hi, Max! I hope you're doing good!
5, 6 and 19 for ask, please❤
Hi friend! Thanks for the ask!
5-What’s the easiest thing to write for you?
Definitely angst. If you could dig into my mind right now, you would see that most of my fic ideas are angst.
6-What’s the hardest thing to write for you?
That'll have to be smut. I wrote one or two of these and it took me forever.
19-What is one story idea you have in your head right now?
Already answer that here .
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thehalfbloodedwitch · 2 years
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Hi, hi, hi! How are you doing? I hope you're great, Nix! <33
Can I pretty please request this one?
→𝐵𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑠𝒉𝑜𝑒𝑠~ Ask me questions on any topic to which I will answer and also ask you a few questions!! Let's interact before the ball night 🌙
What dress would you wear to the ball? Who would be your dance partner EXCEPT Draco? 😁 And who would you like to dance the least with? And which type of music would you want to dance with your partner?
🌠💃💃
Thank you very much and enjoy your ball! 🌠
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Hi!!! I am great Dominika!! How are you? Hope you are doing good <333
Of course, you can! And I will gladly answer these questions!
I would wear probably this dress for a ball-
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Ahh, you knew I would choose him! Okay fine, I guess I would dance with Harry if not Draco 😂
I would not at all like to dance with Goyle and Crabbe, just no.
I would probably dance to some slow romantic songs or pop songs! It would be so much fun!
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Here are a few questions I wanna ask you-
What would be your favourite spot to dance in after the ball with your partner?
Who would you go to the ball?
Imagine your partner surprises you with a ring after the ball, what would you do?
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Thank you very much for requesting! Hope you also enjoy the rest of the celebration and the Royal Argenti Ball!!
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grimmusings · 3 months
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"Are you hurt? Will you... Will you let me have a look at it?" From Dominika to WS Bucky? ❤️ @pleinsdemuses
Answered here! 🦾
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oke-eleven · 5 months
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Historical Pastiche
I rapped on the door again, harder this time. It would be easier if he didn’t answer, if I could cut off everything with no regard for loose ends, but I knew he’d be awake. Late hours were his favorite; time to work, time to be alone. He’d never sacrifice them for sleep.
Shuffling feet turned into a fumbling click and the door opened a crack, smoke wafting out the top of the frame as a sweaty mop peered out from inside.
“Ah Dominika! I thought you’d be busy tonight.”
Petr looked as he usually did when working. White smock adorned with splotches from colorful accidents over wrinkled day clothes. Red flecks decorated his face and stood out against the deep brown eyes. Everyone else in his family had blue.
“Wasn't expecting a visitor but you’re a pleasant surprise, I’ve got some sausage ready to be—”
I don't have time for this now. “I’m leaving. You and this country.”
He turned with a stupidly incredulous look, never one to feign nonchalance.
“Look, if I did something to upset you that much I deeply—”
“My family was taken.” Now I had his undivided attention.
“When did it happen?”
“Earlier tonight, I was heading back from Maria’s and heard a commotion on our street. I hid along an alley further back. After a few minutes their trucks tore by and I waited an hour to be sure they weren't coming back. The house was empty when I arrived. They didn't even have the decency to shut the door as they left.”
“Your father? And Jan too?”
“No they left the potential accomplice and informant behind, of course they took him too!”
How efficient he is at irritating me, but I can’t afford to thrash him right now.
“You talked to your father about me, no? He probably asked some very particular questions about my family and personal life, just out of curiosity of course.”
Petr looked at me quizzically. The utter naïveté.
“He reached out first but it wasn’t anything important. For once he seemed interested so yes I told him some things, but I swear it wasn't anything serious.”
Petr you poor fool, one day with no kicks and suddenly you’re begging at masters feet.
“You didn’t think about what he might do with this information?”
“I don't know what he’d do with it.”
Everybody knows damn it. When your father is a wealthy public official and associates himself with high-ranking party members and military officers, you don't need to think hard about what he might trade in to earn that position.
“You don’t have to leave Domi, you can stay here. I’m sure we can figure something out. I know he's stern sometimes but he’s honest, he wouldn’t do this! If we ask my father I’m sure—“
“Don’t act like a fucking child! Are you really that stupid or do you just want to ignore every sharp edge the world has? How often do people ever come back from their interrogations, much less Jews!?
For the first time in our short lives together Petr looked at me with what appeared as genuine shame, or an excellent mask of it. He spoke up sheepishly.
“What will you do then?”
“Travel south through Austria then continue into Italy, ideally as far as Venice before the year is done. I studied there shortly before Jan was born and have established contacts.”
“I’ve heard the canals are beautiful.” Idiot.
It was a lie. Mother’s family were Poles living in France, they had already agreed to shelter us should father run afoul of people with any power. Once in Paris I’d make my own way. It was always a possibility one of us would be traveling alone, but now that I’m really doing it…
“You can stop and grieve when you need to.” Insufferable.
“I can’t, I need to keep moving, stopping lets the thoughts sneak in and I…I can’t afford that right now.” Cut it off, cut off everything.
Before he can start with some unwelcome platitude I pull out the single item I brought him and launch into my final prepared spiel. It was what he truly needed to hear. If this last attempt fails then my efforts were completely wasted.
“Sometimes I was harsh with you but it was well deserved. I tried to turn you into something greater than you ever had the capacity to be. I failed in that task, and I’m sorry. You can’t put a baby who hasn’t learned to walk on their feet, and you can’t poise a man with no legs of his own upright. Useless in all that mattered, a superb waste of a soul. I bestow upon you the ultimate shame. I also grant you one final opportunity to show that you are human, and therefore have the agency for even a single significant choice.”
It had to be sharp. It had to cut through every layer of self pity and cleanly shear his mind. I was finally done with him. I placed a golden metal square in his palm. Good riddance.
“Ahoj Petr. I hope your complacency is rewarded and the world bends to meet your nonexistent will.”
I stand where Dominika must’ve earlier that night. Her footprints traced a frantic path around the vicinity where soft soles scuttled between cavernous bootprints yet to be filled in with fresh snow. What was going through her head then? Plans no doubt, she was always planning, always thinking about the future and which way to twist its balls. Rarely was there a time she sat truly idle. Born into this world a schemer and will no doubt depart the same way. Shit. The bitch must’ve been cooking up that speech for months, making sure it would sting. I headed towards her front door.
I smell it before I’ve stepped through the entryway. She really didn’t waste any time. So eager to burn everything down and leave the trashed remnants behind? She really could’ve asked for help. I suppose this request was her own warped way of doing it. Or was it just for me?
Being inside made immediately apparent her plan. Domi’s last stop had been my place. She couldn’t have been here more than an hour and everything was ruthlessly prepared. The sweet stench of gasoline clung to every surface and chromatic puddles sat stagnant in every room.
I pulled out her last trace and stared. A zippo lighter engraved with a quail I bought at a flea market, something simple I thought she’d appreciate. With it came an elaborate history from the vendor; I gifted it to her on the basis of this hackneyed biblical metaphor I can’t remember at the moment.
“One last chance.”
I keep thumbing the metallic surface while I walk. Why can’t I put this back? I can just set it down and leave and everything…
My mind was suddenly focused on the open closet. Hidden compartments? They’re all open. Everything here is outlawed. This is real contraband. This place is a storehouse for resistance.
Was this why father was so interested in Domi, the men of the party suspected something like this?
“The police didn’t find it yet.”
They would, they’d be back in time. Should I just leave it?
No wonder she fled so quickly. Sitting around with all this mere feet away. Insanity.
My head was killing me. The fumes. I’ve inhaled too much, I need to leave.
On the table sat memorabilia taken from somewhere else. Photos off the wall, toys for a child. Tereza, Tomas, Dominika, Jan. Jan. He was only ten. They arrested him, but he’ll be fine. The evidence here will mean Tomas is surely killed, not tortured though. Right? But Jan will be okay. Surely. He’s only a child. A plucky child. A young, hopeful delight of a child. He’ll surely be okay. He doesn’t know anything. Nothing would ever happen to an innocent child. He’ll be released to live a long carefree life like children should. He’ll come back to…where? Father and mother and sister gone, where will he go?
“Ten years old…”
I can’t breathe. The fumes are suffocating me. Why can’t I see? I need to go outside.
While I had done my walkthrough the city began its gradual awakening. Back on the lawn I hear lone cars on the main avenue two streets over. It has to be now, before people wake up and the sun can melt any snow.
A lone red can sits near the garage door. So you didn’t completely finish the job for me. Carefully I pick up the can and tip, trickling a tiny river down the driveway and out to the sidewalk. I throw the can back and it thunks the wood siding and clangs the stone path.
I pull a pack of cigarettes from my jacket. Domi always hated that habit, said smoking made people too carefree and ignorant of their surroundings. Could never wholeheartedly disagree. Flicking open the lighter I hold it under the box, let the flame catch every end and drop the homemade torch, tobacco sprinkling into the puddle at my feet. A blazing trail shoots instantly from my shoes around the fence and up into the garage, igniting first the tank of the Volkswagen sitting inside, then spreading along other gasoline paths throughout the whole house. The blast shreds through wooden frames and within seconds turns the abandoned family home into a deafening inferno.
The roaring wind throws me down hard. Flat on my ass. I scramble up and flee, stumbling away as the blaze consumes everything behind me as it surely reaches for me too.
I sprint down the street as a warm snow begins to fall. I feel it on my face. I wipe away tears. The snow comes harder, the tears flow faster, the sobs begin. I can’t breathe. The smoke chokes my throat and the tears choke my eyes. Where am I running? What will I do there? I’m weeping. I’m collapsing. A wave crests and smashes me harder than the conflagration behind.
I hadn’t said it. I couldn’t say it.
“Ahoj Dominika, I hope your wake spreads and alters the current of the world.”
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