Tumgik
#ofc it will be the 'ugly pattern'
whimsical-roasting · 9 months
Text
Jamie Tartt and the Five Love Language
THERES SO MUCH I COULD SAYYY and special thanks to @caapsiizzereads for helping me brainstorm some of these!! ugh just wanna love on the babyboy so much yknow??
TELL ME IF THERE'S MORE YOU CAN THINK OFFFFF
Tumblr media
Words of Affirmations:
HE HAS A PRAISE KINK. ITS LITERALLYYYYYYY CANNON 
Babyboy is so precious…… he knows how it feels not to get kind words, and so he just can’t help but give them out to you
“Woah, babe…your mind..” in a stunned manner when you go off about something you’re passionate about
“You’re everything to me,” he whispers at night as you fall asleep
Has a shared spotify playlist that you both can collab on, and it’s just songs (lyrics) that remind you of each other!! Jamie plays it when he’s heading to away games in the coach, and it makes him feel a bit calmer 
Giving you ALL the praise and dirty talk during sexy time “you’re so fucking beautiful”, “you make me feel so so good” “holy fuck angel” 
Sometimes just stares at you randomly with a goofy look and you’re like ??? what ??? what is it ?? did he realise i’m ugly or my nose is weird or wHAT !!!???!! and he’s just like, “you look like sunshine”, all smitten and shit
Kisses each feature on your body and says “my favourite” to every. single. one.
“I believe in ya!”
Desperately wants to make sure you guys have a couple’s song - something meaningful that describes how he feels about you that he can play for you both… like Sweet Nothings by Taylor Swift/Hearts Don’t Break Around You by Ed Sheeran/Simple Things by Miguel 
Plays that song after fights when the silences are still tender; when you’re drunk and slow dancing in the kitchen at 3am; when you’re getting dressed for a gala, and he’s fixing his hair, and you’re putting on your earrings
“I adore you, sweetheart”, “you look like a pretty flower”, “me heart fuckin sings seeing ya”
Physical Touch:
Absent-mindedly plays with your hair
Nuzzles face into your neck and then peppers kisses on your shoulder
Massages/scratches your scalp cause he knows how good it feels when you do it for him
Traces patterns on your knee and thighs if you sit next to him
Gotta be holding hands at all times
Pinky promises are sacred… probs locks pinkies and then kisses his thumb to “stamp it” 
Slapping his ass as he walks past you, and so he’s always covering his butt, complaining “babeeee you can’t do thattttt”, but then he’ll be all pouty if one day you don’t slap his ass when he walks past… “do you not love me anymore?”
He will randomly come up to you, wrap your arms around you, getting as close as possible and tuck his face between your shoulder and neck, saying that he’s recharging
Always gotta be touching some part of you.. it’s the only way to live tbh
Gift Giving:
Remember when Jamie was like, “can’t I just buy them all PS5s as a sorry??” “what better thing to spend money on than love?“ LMFAOOOO babyboy :”) he means well
The amount of effort he put into Roy’s gift for Uncle’s Day <3 
Jamie would fucking love getting you fancy, expensive gifts around big occasions (birthdays, holidays etc.) 
BUT I think he’d also love getting you smaller gifts like… Sunday morning flowers, or stocking up on different kinds of herbal tea in his kitchen cause he knows sometimes you’re in the mood for a random cuppa on quiet evenings
Personally, someone like me loves cute tea cups/mugs, so I think buying two mugs to keep in his house cause “they’re so cute, and I wanted them for us” would make him so happy!! He doesn’t even use them all that much, but just seeing them in the cupboard makes him smiley
The kind to want matching outfits or colour-coordinated outfits - most def would buy you both matching sneakers (so would Isaac/most of the team with his S/O)
Gets you a ‘J’ gold chain and wears a gold one with your initial 
If he sees some targeted ad on your insta or something for what you’ve searched up he’s like hmmm,,,,,,i might just,,,*add to cart*
Quality Time:
Wants to spend all his time with you!! Ofc he does!!! 
Is happy to just sit in silence, stroking your calves he watches tiktok with your legs on his lap!! Esp if you’re like reading/doing work on your laptop
He just wants to be there yknow? And he tries not to be annoying but the little puppy can’t help but wanna talk and touch and, ultimately, annoy you
Tries to invite you to all his events? “Can me girlfriend come?” 
Even the ones that aren’t for guests, “babeeee, what do ya mean you won’t come to Colin’s guys' night? I swear they’ll be fine with it…probably!!” “can I come to girl’s night with ya? I’ll let you paint me nails…come on.. Pleaseeee?”
Texts you periodically during the night regardless ahahaha
I like the idea of, “hey I gotta drive somewhere, and it’s gonna take me 30 minutes..can you talk?” whilst one of you is in the car and the other’s at home or, I dunno, has some time during their day 
Date nightssssss every two weeks… OR if the season gets busy and he’s also exhausted from Roy’s trainings then SPECIFIC carved out time to be affectionate and date-y
“I’m so sorry, love, I know we had that reservation tonight, but I came home knackered and just crashed…” “Jaim, it’s okay-” “No, no, it’s not! I’m so fucking dead from training I don’t even get to take ya out anymore! What if- what if you wanted a picnic, huh!” “Baby, it’s okay, really.. How about we set up a picnic on the living room floor and order takeout? Something that Roy’ll let you eat, yea?” “I’m so fucking grateful for ya, angel, I swear” 
He always wants you to watch him score a goal on FIFA cause he’s a child ahahaha… probably teaches you how to play and then pouts when you score as Obisanya 
Wants to try out random hobbies with you - sip and paint cause “I’ll have an excuse to draw outta the lines”; knitting cause “Bumbercatch said it’s soothin, babe”; quick dry clay but he makes a big circular lump at first and grins at you “look babe!! I made a football!” 
Acts of Service:
HIM TEACHING ROY HOW TO RIDE A BIKE 
Makes you coffee once he’s back from his 4am training 
Always offers you his jacket/coat
“I know this was stressing ya, babe, so I took care of it”
“Don’t worry, love, I’ve been practising this dish just for you.. I won’t burn it this time, promise”
Late night cravings???? McDonald’s fries and an Oreo Mcflurry?? He’s already slipping on his jacket and finding his keys (imagine how attentive he’d be with your weird ass pregnancy cravings omg)
ALWAYS opens doors for you... Probably yells “WAIT” when in the car with you just so he can jog out and open your door with a grin 
Always down to carry your purse, puts it on his shoulder like it’s HIS despite having his lil bum bag across his chest
Nightime or morning routine, he probs has to get ready before you so he lays out your skincare for you. Probs adds toothpaste on your brush if he hears you getting ready to enter the bathroom
Probably the main one driving everywhere, but if you drive and need to fill up your tank, he’ll be the one to get out and fill it then pay,,, he’s almost offended that you say you’re capable of doing so yourself, “babe, what am I here for?!”
Tries to eat in accordance with your dietary requirements (e.g. I’m vegetarian) if you guys have date night - or he’ll always have like mouthwash and gum so he can kiss ya later without making you feel uncomfortable!!
“Ooh babe, they have the ravioli ya like and the vodka gnocchi!! Okay, you order the ravioli, and I’ll get the gnocchi and we’ll split, yea?” “Hey Jaim, can we order fries too?” “Fuck yea!”
751 notes · View notes
lees-chaotic-brain · 4 months
Note
Hello! I'd like to give Inumaki an ugly Christmas sweater (with high neck ofc) that was knitted by reader. It was her first time, but sweater still looks nice; and probably there is a bear pattern or written something cool and funny.
Good luck!
Ahhh this is so perfect for him, I love it! Also, credit for the text on the sweater goes to that one jjk x reader texts person who has Inumaki's name saved as toge bear. Lmk in the comments if you know who it is.
CW: Singular mention of puke (as a description of a color), crack, fluff
Collab Guide | Collab Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
Tumblr media
For weeks you had toiled on your secret project, working well into the wee hours of the morning. Weeks of finger cramps, endless frustration, and eyes burning from a lack of sleep. But finally. Finally, it was done.
Holding out the monstrosity you had created, you couldn’t help but to cackle with glee at your horrific creation.
All your hard work and sleepless nights had finally come to fruition, and in your hands you now held the world’s ugliest Christmas sweater.
The base was a puke green shag, mottled with random patches of mud brown. Neon orange sequins had been sewn winding around the arms, the pattern imitating lights strung around a tree. And to top it all off there was a misshapen white bear with lopsided violet eyes on the front above the words ‘My Toge Bear.”
It was perfect. It was divine. It was your best work yet. Carefully wrapping it in navy tissue paper and placing it in a silver bag you throw open the door to your dorm and make your way to your boyfriends dorm.
“Togeeeeeeeeee!”
You call as you burst into his dorm.
“I have something for youuuu!”
“Really?!”
His eyes light up and he quickly pauses his game before swiveling in his chair to face you.
“Gimme.”
You had barely extended your arm and offered him the gift bag before he reached out and snatched it. Scurrying over to the corner of his room, he sat with his back to the wall and eyed you suspiciously as he opened it. And finally, the moment you had been waiting for arrived. Your boyfriend looked at your creation for a couple of seconds, silent.
You were practically wriggling with glee, dying in anticipation for his reaction to your gift. Slowly he looked at you, and an evil smile spread across his face. He stood, and retrieved a gift bag of his own from his closet and handed it to you.
Wait, where was his abject horror? His look of acute betrayal?? What was with that look on his face? You were beginning to feel a little uneasy.
He motioned for you to open it, before retrieving the hideous sweater and what-did he just put it on?
A sly little grin flashed across his face, quickly replaced by one of doe-eyed innocence.
I love it! He signed, gesturing for you to open your gift. Now open yours!
Filled with trepidation, you slowly pull whatever is lurking in the gift bag out into the light. Staggering back, you dramatically fling your hand against your forehead as you drop your gift. Your handsome, loving, loyal boyfriend had finally revealed his dark side. Laying crumpled in a pile on his hard wood floor was not a ugly Christmas sweater, but an ugly Christmas dress, made of itchy wool and covered with bells and flashing lights.
Do you like it?
His shoulders were shaking with the effort of suppressing his laughter, making his signing choppy. Giving him a half-hearted glare, you made eye contact and that was the end. 
The two of you burst into hysterical peals of laughter as you wheezed and leaned against each other. The second one of you was beginning to calm down, the other would hiccup and start giggling, starting a whole new round of cackles.
Once you had managed to get yourselves under control, the two of you each put on your respective gifts and had a photoshoot, dramatically posing with exaggerated facial expressions. As the two of you rolled on the ground, practically sobbing with laughter after Toge attempted to throw a sultry look of his shoulder for the camera, you fell in love with him all over again. This was what you wanted your future to look like; enjoying spending time with the man you love, while laughing over mundane things such as an ugly Christmas sweater.
86 notes · View notes
pieroulette · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
CAMELLIA'S FATE
"Would you come?"
2023 | 13+ | ONESHOT × 6k | TATTOOIST! PARK JAY × READER
SUMMARY was it a string of fate when your bestfriend claimed your art as her own, that not even after six years does it suffice the desire for revenge blooming in your heart, claiming it as a call for making it even—that you stumble upon a tattoo studio, and your eyes falling upon the same flower on a young man's neck.
WARNING/GENRE emptiness, lost of passion (?), slight profanity, angst, fluff, romance, reader is a painter!
AUTHOR'S NOTE a short story I wrote during a period of writing and art block. well, it ain't that short anymore 💀
Tumblr media
“Huh.. What should I do?” You pouted with your head buried deep inside your arms as another art block hit you like a truck.
Studies had by far consumed your life to the point you couldn’t grab the paintbrush between your fingers and create something, and now that the semester had ended, that you had free time laid across in front of you like a vast ocean waiting for you to swim through it, you couldn’t.
It was as if something is holding you back which had you wondering if this was the end for your childhood passion?
Draw something simple. You thought. But it seriously ain’t that simple to brush the tips of your paintbrush against the gigantic canvas. Still.. You lowered your neck, utimately focusing your orbs onto your paper, hoping or waiting for something to come out of it.
What would it be? A person? A furniture? The nightsky? The empty can on the edge of the desk beside you? What is it?
Your finger swayed the paintbrush across the canvas over and over again but to your dismay, nothing came out of it — only scribbles of something you couldn’t comprehend, in which you originally thought of a house.
Your phone's screen turns on with a notification popping up along the lockscreen.
[11:49PM] Somi<3: hiyaa, the competition’s gettin close :( i’m nervous
[11:49PM] you: that’s fine *patpat* you’re so good at art, pretty sure you’ll get top 1 yk
[11:56PM] Somi<3: reallyyy? ><
[11:57PM] you: ofc ofc, now just get to your hmw and just keep practicing :3
The flamboyant flower showcasing it’s magnificent beauty up on the ceiling, the engraved pattern across your ceilings, you remember that you once stepped on the ladder when your parents were renovating your room and you took the chance to did so despite the danger. Painting over the ceiling with the pink-stained paint brush between your tiny fingers, with a smile so wide and bright, eyes crinkling to half moons as you did so.
Well, the flower you drew turn out horrible to say the least, with the outline wavery and inconsistent, the colours were not bold enough on some parts and some of them going past the outline.
Eyebrows twitching upon the sight, you scoffed in a lighthearted laugh. No matter how ugly it was to be honest, it had managed to stay that long.
Long enough to not be erased by the changes of time, the plants grew old, the furniture had their paints peeled off, the tv in the living room had begun glitch off, the store you’ve been to had been shut down for whatever reason, and even the star in the sky exploded to ashes when the time has come. But for whatever reason it has, the flower you drew on the ceiling yet still manage to look as beautiful as ever. You let out a giggle at the thought of that maybe the drawn flower had a purpose that’s why it was still boldly alive in sight.
Without much thought and the smile still ever so bright on your lips, you begun to draw on the paper with the flower in thought—wishing for your efforts to pay off, cause that's how it works right?
However, jokes on you, your efforts was futile.
Truly futile.
Your vision turning into a field of vagueness as your tears drowned you into the deep ocean — those that held spike up thorns below the sea.
Why are you crying? Why aren’t you fighting back?
Tightening your fist so tight that your nails began to hurt your palms, there was nothing really left to fight back anymore since you aint got nothing left anymore when the fruits of your efforts were ripped away from you with no mercy nor one glance of contempt for all of their eyes were on—
Her.
“Somi! Congratulations! You did really well!”
A giggle so loud and so annoying it clutches your heart within, there she was in her brightest glory; bouquets of flowers beneath her arms, bright blonde silk hair going down her uniform skirt—those that you once brushed with a hair comb back then. That piece of beige hairband that had the signature butterfly pattern on it, one that matched with the one on your hair right now.
Seeing her gave you nothing but resentment and anger.
One by one, each and one of them in line up in the stage as they congratulated her for winning the top prize of the masterpiece of an art, something she said was her own.
Bullshit. It wasn't yours. Thus you screamed in the back of your mind, head so low you could see nothing but your tears staining the red carpeted floor. The raging applause submerging you into more pain, pain and pain! You couldn’t take it anymore, the scene that mocks you to your very core; the girl that you claim as your bestfriend stole everything from you and yet, and yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to stand up and walk straight to her and give her a piece of your mind.
For it’s no use, the only thing it would do was ruin your reputation and you can’t do that. You know you can’t do that. You can’t..
You stood up on your feet with eyes glaring deep at the girl herself, who in turn finally noticed you after awhile. Your breath hitched in so deep when you observed the corner of her lips tugging up to her cheeks, and her brown orbs stared at you in a mere contempt.
That alone was sufficient for one sentence to arise inside your starving soul for revenge, You’ll fall. Just like that flower behind you. One day you will.
At last, you turned your back out of spite–full in rage as you did so. With the spectacle of a scene behind you holding a thousand emotions of joy, flashes of camera filled the entire room.
“Somi! Look at here!”
“1, 2..” flashes of the camera consumed the entire space every few seconds, “3!”
“The painting truly is breathtaking, isn’t?” two women from behind marvels at the colossal canvas before them.
“Truly it is, that painter is so talented it’s making me jealous.” The other in turn, giggled.
“Well, it does takes an effort to reach such prestigious level.”
You returned home, dropping your bag on the ground as you did so, taking the jug to pour a water in the glass. The dim light from outside reflected against the glass, forming a sea-like diamonds. But you knew, it didn’t came from the glass.
Your source of inspiration, your muse. All was vain, truly futile. Hoping that it would turn out well. Except it didn’t turn well.
Your very source of inspiration and effort had been stolen, now leaving you with nothing but emptiness. You were nothing and you had nothing now.
The wooden paintbrush snapped into separate pieces as you smashed it against the floor, a mockery metaphor of yourself. It has been months. Months it was since that incident occured and ever since then you couldn’t find the heart to lay the tip of the paintbrush against the canvas anymore.
As if something was missing from your heart, what is this? It felt like you no longer have the love for painting anymore, it felt like there was nothing to let out anymore even when you have dozens and dozens of ideas kept hidden in your journal, something you occasionally wrote onto whenever you had burst of ideas.
And yet, when you took them out, when you tried to paint again—there was no beat that rang through your ears and hug your heart. It’s suffocating. It’s too empty.
“I don’t like.. To paint anymore?..” a question you laid out against yourself, merely vibrating through the entire studio. Your dark orbs fell on your palms as you splayed it before you, “Please.. Come back.”
“Give it up, (Name). There’s no way you could do anything against her parents..” your classmate mumbled as she took another bite from her ice cream. "You can always make another painting again?"
Those words rang deep in your mind, mocking your very soul. It ain't that easy. Pouring your entire soul to a creating a piece is like raising your own child with utmost affection and care, and to have it mercilessly rip apart from you is akin to ripping your soul away as well.
A hollow, hollow hole inside your body that you were unable to see—only grew even bigger and wider.
Weeping in the corner of your room, as you buried your face in comfort of your arms. “W-was it my fate that it had to be this way?”
Tumblr media
「6 YEARS LATER」
“I apologise but we don’t take any customers who don’t do an appointment first.” the man apologetically bow down, surprised you were but didn’t protest.
How could you? You gulped down your throat in embarrassment as your orbs darted around the studio's signboard;
Quite a bit embarrassed to say the least that you didn’t plan it first but what can you do? You bow down parallel to the ground, turning towards the street as impatience consumed you. You raise your wrist, staring at your watch with the small arrow pointing towards 11 am—a few hours left before 4pm—the ticking clock signifying the end.
You couldn't afford to wait another week and find another tattoo store. Not anymore.
It has been 6 years since that fateful day, a horrendous fate you simply wishes you could forget but life is too miserable to let you to even do so—not when your eyes fell on the devil—your ex best-friend's face was splattered on the billboard, interviews, offers, every single thing had her on the pinnacle of the world.
Because of your artwork. From the very beginning, it’s not that she wasn’t good at art, heck she was talented in it but didn’t care enough to put an effort for the final competition. She even told you and persuade you to join instead, but foolish you were that you didn’t realise she was a double edge sword. Two parts of you were wishing for her demise, and another wishing that she would soon realise her mistake and come begging at you but you know that won’t happen.
The world, and it’s people are far too prideful to admit their mistakes, after all. We all trample on each other, and only very few people can manage to be selfless. It’s not that being selfish is bad, nor being selfless is—and there will be a time where we are forced to put ourself or another, yet what you couldn’t accept was when they deliberately chose to do so.
That’s what you can never forgive. It’s unforgivable.
6 horrendous years of lifetime wasted upon a single betrayal—back then you were 19, now you were 25.
Since the days of your spring, you always wanted to have a tattoo, not a flamboyant one, a simple one that is for a simple reminder to accompany you throughout your life but now you couldn't have thought that it would be through this way.
A few days ago, you've heard that Somi's public fansign will be held at the city, which is today. You've been waiting for this very day. Clutching the labeled tiny bottle in your hands had you taking a deep breathe, fear consumed your veins as you imagine how her face would evaporate once you threw this on her. Sure, you were breathing but there was no root of life anywhere inside you anymore, so why would she?
Today should be her last day, however she should be grateful as she won't be alone in the underworld, after all. You'll escort her back to where she truly belongs judging by what she did to you.
“Miss!" You paused on your tracks immediately. "You don’t have to leave, I can do it for you.” a breathless sigh emits from the man behind you.
“But—! That’s against the rules. You knew Sir. Park would-”
“It’s okay, I got my last client done so I’m free anyways. Plus, you wouldn’t blow up my cover, wouldn’t you?”
The other guy ruffled through his hair, simply sighing in return. “Ugh, fine.”
A chuckle emits from the person who called for you. “I knew I could count on you.”
You slowly turned to the man in question—jet black shirt, rolled over sleeves, tall frame, black slicked hair, pair of silver round earrings, metal piercing on the top of his ear, tattoos of what you make out to be florals adorning the left side of his neck since his collars hid almost a part of it, and that radiant smile of his. His eyes glowing and his cheeks growing—a stark contrast from his outer appearance.
Hot. That's it. He's drop dead hot.
"Miss—" the man's gleaming eyes fell on your shorter frame, pausing for a millisecond before clearing his throat, gesturing his hands inside the studio. "This way."
"U-uhm, thank you."
He guided you inside the shop where a leather foldable chair was laid across the centre of the room, and a bunch of containers with tools specifically made for tattooing was placed on the table.
You sat on top of it, making yourself comfortable but somehow you choke on your saliva when the boy sat on another chair, leaning a tad bit close far to your own liking. Or was it just really your first time that the close proximity caught you off guard?
"So?" almost akin to a dropping melody, your stomach evaporates with his voice much to your surprise. "What kind of tattoo would like to have on your skin?” He asked, still having radiance adorning his face, the question were voice out too lively and joyous for no reason.
He's hot. You gotta admit that, but drooling at this point won't get you anywhere. Too bad, you met him a tad bit late or else you would've make a first move.
"M-miss?"
"Oh! My bad, my bad." You brush it off nonchalantly, clearing your throat.
Seems like this type of job doesn't do any justice to him, in your opinion. You’d expected that tattooist would perhaps be cold and indifferent, however he was no close to your impression of one. But does your opinion matter? So you kept it and stayed silent from voicing out such hasty words just like before.
“A flower.” you fiddled through your bag, mentally cussing yourself for a whole minute before your fingers came into contact with the cold metal—finally swiping through your gallery and handing your phone to the man.
His dark brown orbs beams alike the sun rays as a noticeable grin pulled up within his cheeks which made you raised your eyebrow in confusion.
"I have the same tat, if you want to see just for example of how it would look like on yours." Excitement laced his voice.
Appalled by his suggestion, you simply replied. "Sure."
Jay didn't expected you to simply agree so quick, which had him letting out a few coughs in attempts to conceal his initial shock.
Quite flustered inside but his outer demeanour remain calm and composed as his fingers made their way through the hem of his collars, each one unbuttoning his shirt till it was enough for his collarbone and chest to be half exposed, revealing the masterpiece adorning his skin.
You didn't expect yourself to be this surprised or even speechless, yet it was truly gorgeous over how the patterns were carefully drilled into his skin and how the outline were so bold and lively despite its colours being only grey and black. You almost forgot that you loathe this flower alot, to be honest.
You inhaled a deep breathe, blinking utterly slow to take in the beauty. "So pretty. D-did you got this from someone or?"
"I did it myself.." Jay replied in a nonchalant manner, yet goosebumps washed over his skin as you leaned closer observing his tattoos in amazement. His orbs rattled against the walls, trying his best to avoid looking at you. Now that he wonder after an eternity watching the walls, has it always been this dirty? Gulping with his lips pressed tight. "W-would you like the exact same as this then, or something different?"
He breathe a long sigh after you fixed your posture, his hands fiddled the hems of his black sleeve to dampened his rampant heart—wondering if you could hear it a moment ago.
"Something like this, however I think.. It would look like we are having matching tattoos then.” You let out a small giggle at that thought, rosy hues dusted off his cheeks when you mention that particular sentence. “Ah, I want it to have a color then. That way, it won’t seem like it.”
Jay's nails dug under his chair, his arms frozen as he processed your words from within.
"Did I said?.."
"No, no— Nothing wrong with that." You observed him pressing his lips tight in an awkward manner as he stood up, the chair creaking as he did so. Standing he did, before the shelves filled with numerous ink bottles of all colours and shades. His hand gestured over them, attentive he was you observed, seemingly waiting for your answer. "I’ll get the color for you then.. Which one?”
"Hm,” pointing your index finger towards the ink bottle with the label, “Red”
His fingers quickly wrapped itself around the bottle, focusing on the label for a good three seconds looking back at you, pulling up a small smile. “Red, I see? That’s a pretty good choice. It’s apparently rare for me to have clients choosing red for tats.”
“Really? That’s new to me.”
“Yep, then.. what kind of red would you like on your camellia?” Again, he stood before a shelf with red ink bottles with all different shades.
Sighing, you stood up, brushing the bottles but not almost to avoid being rude by touching someone’s else personal tools and supplies. It didn’t go unnoticed how the young man beside you, were immensely focused at where your fingers go on about.
“How about ruby?” you gestured your index finger towards the specific labeled bottle, a memory of the gigantic canvas flashes through your mind. “ I don’t like it too bright, actually.” Better if it’s darker in shade—that it would serve her mind till engraved in her soul, the very fruit of her own actions towards you.
Jay lapped his tongue over his lower lip, gulping down his throat as he nodded. “Very well then.”
Nodding as you went back to your seat, it caught you off guard when your eyes fell on the man. Clearing your throat to get his attention, "U-uhm, sir?"
His left eyebrow raised in confusion, doe eyes enveloping your form and it didn't help at all with what you're seeing right now.
"Your shirt.." you held the need to say anything further considering how his eyes ogled out at his exposed torso, giggling awkwardly he did as he buttoned his shirt back. "L-let's get it started then?"
"Alright!"
"So, where do you want to have it on your skin?" He asked, which to you was a bit vague. "On your arm? Your hand? Or.. your back?"
"Hm?" Your eyebrow furrowed at every body part he mentioned, and it only deepens the more your brain processed it. Oh fuck, right. How did I even forgot? "H-ow about m-my neck?"
Pain, that's all you thought. But you seriously wanted the tattoo to be as obvious as fuck for your ex best friend's eyes to ogle at. So you were in utter dilemma. "It.. doesn't hurt that bad, right..?"
"The neck is the most painful part to get a tattoo."
Well shit, I'm screwed. You whimpered as your back slouched in devastation, forget about revenge—you're seriously a dumbo for doing a last minute plan. Your eyes darting over the wall and to the patient man standing before you, you held the need to pout.
Jay noticing your dilemma, cleared his throat. "How about the side of your neck? Just like mine? It doesn't hurt that bad, actually."
"Are.. you sure?" Forming a comforting smile, he nodded. "Alright.."
"Alright! So.." Jay held the need to blink like a maniac as he gestured to your collar, "Your collar, we need to tattoo the side.. of your neck right?"
"Huh..?"
Oh.. right. How did you even forget? Your cheeks began to heat up by the thought as you slowly unbuttoned your shirt, your shoulders slightly exposed as it dangled off.
Your body froze on it's own when his delicate touch brushes against your bare arms, his right hand pulling up your right sleeve back to your shoulder. You didn't realise him closing the distance with you as you were in your deep thought, holding your head low in attempts to avoid his dark grey orbs looking into your soul. Yet his voice causes tingles around your neck, goosebumps washing over your skin.
"We just need the side of your neck, okay..?" Delicate to touch, the twinkles of his eyes met yours. "Relax."
Tumblr media
Those blooming bouquets—a symbol of mockery to you along with the gigantic canvas you've created with nothing but pure efforts were presented before everyone as her's. Those silky blonde hair that dangled off her shoulders simply flooding your eyes with tears. That smug look of hers that resurfaced after people were gone, which was evidently for you.
A set of bustling applauses filled the space, a melody to her ears and a mockery to your existence—causing the ground beneath you to shatter into a neverending hollow sinkhole.
“Agh!-”
The sight of the beige-coloured ceiling was what met your wide shot eyes for a whole minute before the drilling pain brought you back to reality, causing your mouth to hang apart—whimpering with every contact of the needle.
“It might hurt, but it has to be something you got to bear if you want the camellia on your skin..”
You almost forgot, how could you even? Your dazed orbs slowly fell on his face as he keeps talking to you even when you couldn't really understand him—his voice soothes the strings of your heart so much it had you calm down instantly despite the tip of the needle punching under your skin every millisecond.
Vagueness encircled around your vision, yet his portrait remain crystal clear due to the close proximity—his faint cherry lips moving with motion as he uttered inaudible words, the set of dust particles fleeting across the tip of his nose, hitting the sun rays from behind him. His eyelashes fluttering in a delicate motion as he remained immensely focused—he seems fitted enough to be your muse, doesn't he?
"You slept really well." He said, causing your cheeks to burn in embarrassment. Now that he mentioned it, you did slept judging by how much time had passed since the session started.
Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, wondering if you were his only client that fell asleep during session. Holding the need to cringe as you imagine yourself sleeping ever so comfortably before a stranger. "U-uh? Am I the..?"
He hummed in return, but before you could even explode. "It's nice though, that's how I know I'm doing good." The apples of his cheeks grew wider, melting your heart to a dripping honey.
At some point, the pain was nonexistent, partly of it because of his advice, and partly was observing him throughout the entire session.
“If I may ask, why do you want to have a flower as a tattoo?” He asked, which to you was kind of abrupt.
“Don’t you have any customers that like a flower tattoo before?” you asked him suspiciously in which he let out a soft giggle, amused by your reaction.
He shook his head ever so little as he smiled, “Of course I did, just a bit curious about.. you.”
Huh, flirty I see. You hummed inside your head, a bit amused.
"I could say the same thing to you too, why of all things—a flower was your last pick?" you asked him.
"It saved my life."
Ha, saved his life? What a stark contrast that flower did to you and him. While it saves him, it brings destruction to you instead. These ferocious petals serve a whole different meaning to you and him.
"You?.."
“There isn’t anything interesting in particular, just something I..” you paused in between, trying to carefully pick out your words, “Have to do in order to make something alive again.”
“I understand.” his lips tugged up in a small smile, and the rest soon formed into a calming solitude. You expected him to raise another question out of curiosity but to your surprise, he didn't. Somehow, it brought a calming river to your heart that he simply choses not to.
You weren’t quite sure if he notice since he was too absorbed in what he was doing which is pretty understandable, either way you watched him as if he was a scenery or more like a season, if it was a season then—cold spring would be the perfect season to describe him altogether.
He’s hot, you gotta admit. Not that you were so into him, but you gotta give it to the fact that he had that aura that somehow pulls you into wanting to know more about him, atleast, or you can call it curiosity at the best.
“Your name?” you blurted out without much thought. After all, what could go wrong in asking a simple name? After all, this would be the last time.
“M-my name?”
“Hm.. yes.” you raised your eyebrow at him, noticing that he’s a bit slow at picking things up despite his cold upfront aura.
“Jay. You can call me Jay.” he looks down, eyelashes fluttering.
“Mr. Jay.." the name tasted like melody on your tongue, "Suits you pretty well.”
You could notice that he was truly shy, a stark contrast from the tats adorning the side of his neck and down to his arms. “What’s yours?..”
“(Name).”
“It suits you too, (Name).” Simple and straightforward, yet it felt so comforting to hear him imitate your way of speech.
“Thank you-” your breath caught in the back of your throat when his pretty dark orbs looked deep into your soul.
“S-sorry.” He mumbled as his eyebrows knitted together.
“Never mind bout it,” you brush it off, but appalled by those unusual reactions that you can’t seem to get used to. “I-it hurts.. though."
“Oh right-”
He hummed in the back of his throat, those chords of his voice vibrating through your eardrums as the passage of time flowed. The chill atmosphere enveloped your form—despite the drilling tool under your inner skin—hushing you back to slumber despite your efforts trying to resist it. However pitch darkness consumed your vision, and you heard his voice echoing through your slumber. "Sleep well, miss."
Jay observes your eyes falling into deep slumber, taking another look at the labeled 'ruby' bottle for a few moments and back again to your ragged out form that he somehow founds to be emitting solemn. You seem tired, sad, and that you seem to have been crying for god knows how long, it was a baseless assumption, for sure. But he could feel it. Somehow, you reminded him of the day he was like you before.
Softened breeze a few minutes ago has formed into a harsh punch to his face, that belongs to a particular someone as he to felt it against his skin.
“You can’t see a thing! How can you even paint? How can you even?!”
Cans of filled up paints scattered on the floor, while the the dripping colourful shades dripped from his splayed fingers to the ground, biting his lip in desperation, he answered in full blown outrage.
“It’s not my fault that I can’t see anything! Besides, color is not the only medium for art!”
“This won’t do, this is hopeless. You’re hopeless.” The man shook his head, eyes filled with both contempt and annoyance, and with that he stormed off. “Give up, people like you who can never see colors aren’t fitted for this industry. Just give up, Jay."
The thought of his father's words voicing it rang like an ominous bell across the empty labyrinth of the mind and heart of the young man himself.
The door slammed before his solemn, broken form, drenched on colours he could never had the chance to differentiate.
Voice so hoarse it sound so pitiful with the mixture of the empty nightsky. He looks up to prevent any more tears to fall down his cheeks. "What a joke..” a breathless sigh puff up in the air mixing with the tiny dust orbs, tears of moonlight called out for help. “Ah. Was it fate that I had to be born this way?”
He turns his phone open after a short sigh of pain, ragged fingers and chip nails scrolls through the countless pictures of stranger splattered across the internet—smiles, laughter, eyes crinkling akin to half moons with their fingers wrapped around the shiny wine glass as they raise it up to the ceiling, another one has their parents standing on their either side for their graduation photo, swipe down a tiny bit more—and a sweet picture perfect of a small family reflected against his dark orbs.
“Huh..?” the tip of his finger glued against the glowing screen as his eyes hovered on it, pupil dilating as it continued to observe the painting slowly. His breath caught to the very back of his throat, his lungs tightening as it took all it got, tongue remain frozen to the edges of his teeth as his mind tried to make out of what he was seeing.
Monochromes. The shades akin to a graveyard and the deafening silence of crow engulfing his sight but.. Intricate patterns of something flew across his eyes, where was it? He looked up, head snapping to where that object flew to. Gone. Gone it was.
What was that? He looked down at his phone again, the painting; the canvas was massive, with dried acrylic paint on the edges, and the composition laying on between where it’s main character was no man nor woman, nor a child nor an animal, neither a furniture nor a statue but..
A single flower standing out against everything.
“It’s so b-beautiful..” sniffing as he stuttered, pausing in between as he finally kept his eyes closed, not noticing that he had it opened wide and bright in taking the colossal beauty of it that it had grew dry with the wind hitting right against it. As he fluttered it open, his eyes was greeted by the mesmerizing beauty once again.
He couldn’t make out of what kind of color it was yet it’s wholly captivating, perfectly showcasing the artistic skills of the creator—efforts evident, and passion enveloping the gigantic canvas.
“I wonder what is it called?”
An unnamed flower unfolding it’s monochrome robes to the core of his heart, it felt as if he finally had a reason to live for.
"Camellia." Jay breathe out as he meticulously drilled the ink into your skin, taking a form of the flower he wholeheartedly adore. Flowers, it was surely not his first time to have a client wishing for a flower as a tattoo, and surely you won't be the last client either. But the fact that you asked for a specific flower that holds a tremendous meaning to him—brought him inner solace and bliss that you gave him the chance to do so.
For sure, it wasn't probably your intention. But Jay still would like to think of that, nevertheless.
Imitation is the best form of flattery, it shows how you're adamant and determined to be as skilled as the one you look up to regardless of art form. As the passage of time stretched even further, so does the artist himself; each soul grows to their own uniqueness.
And to Jay, himself—he aspires to be as good as the artist that created the painting—the fact that the artist had such blazing passion and skills that it brought the whistles of life to his soul, brought him a tiny doses of envy. But it was those emotions, that kept him going through all seasons despite the obstacles.
His eyes fell on your sleeping face once again, wishing for you to be happy once you see it, hoping that it would bring you the same effect the way it did to him. "(Name)."
Tumblr media
"Just give up," familiarity yet indifference laced the blonde haired's aura, her crimson lips pulled up to her cheeks—forming a menacing smirk. "No one would believe you, (Name)."
Rattling orbs shot wide open, your hands clutched your chest—rampant heart behind those ribs vibrating through your eardrums. The dream, no the memories—pulling you back to your ugly reality.
Confused, you raised your eyes—looking for Jay, yet he was nowhere to be found in the midst of the silent space. Your eyes fell upon the clock on the wall before you, it’s arrows pointing towards a sunset hour making your jaw dropped slightly.
2:54pm—exactly one hour left before the fateful hour. You faltered for too long, didn’t you?
"Hey, you're awake." Jay's long fingers fiddled deep his pockets, approaching you from behind.
"Oh, um. Why didn't you wake me up?"
Taken aback but regained his composure just as quickly, "Just.. you've been sleeping really well. So I thought I'd let you get a few more hours, you know."
"Ah," you found yourself a tad bit wavered by his words, tucking the hair strands covering your vision behind your ear. A genuine smile adorned your lips, feeling grateful for his seemingly insignificant consideration. "Thank you.."
“No p-problem, so why don’t you look at it?” Jay's eyes darted over the chair beside him, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked back at you again, on a particular spot on your neck.
Only then you realise the stinging pain on your collarbone. You turned towards the mirror behind you, stroking your finger against the faint red and stinging spot.
It hurts. But it was worth it as the engraved intricate petals adorning your neck, was a sugary sight to your eyes. “It’s so pretty.” you swallowed a lump of saliva down your throat in attempts to prevent the salty tears forming in your eyes, for it truly was breathtaking to look at.
You captured the sight of his familiar beaming smile harmonising with his eyes as always from the mirror's reflection, evidently proud of his artwork adorned on your skin.
Smiling at yourself, you swiftly turn the chair facing him. Standing up on your feet, you leaned in closer—not that close, but enough to take some reaction out of him that you wanted to see once more before you go. One last time.
“Thank you, Mr. Jay.” you said, "If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have the chance to.. you know."
“I-it’s my pleasure, Miss (Name).” he looks away, abashed in silence yet the rosy hues on the apple of his cheeks were giving it away for you.
“Well then, I’d have to go.”
You weren't sure if it was a fragment of your imagination—that his dark grey orbs seems to lose sun rays within it. However the twinkles of his eyes returned as he gave another smile to you clenched your heart this time, as you walked through the hallway you entered a few hours ago. Feeling a bit emotional, unfortunately.
Pausing just before the entrance's edge, turning your heels around to take another look at your favourite smile, “I wish you a good day.”
"Have a good day, too." Jay nodded, feeling a bit lost at the sight of the soft strands of your hair flowing down the twinkle of your half-moon smiles as it reflected in grey hues of the sunlight.
Facing the long street ahead of you with a decided destination, you raise your arms—waving your hand at the boy without looking back. You weren't sure if he was still there, maybe.. he wasn't looking anymore. You didn't dare to turn your head so as to not raise any hope, not anymore. Not gonna lie, you wish you could stay a bit more.
A destination that leads to the root of your destruction, would you atleast try to hold yourself? Maybe not, this tattoo on your neck serves a reminder of your ruined life—to finally get it even with her.
Coal washes over Jay's vision like fleeting dust.
He, himself, had always been in a state of dust particles washing over his monochrome vision. Just like right now as he watches your figure walking off the street— fleeting particles follow you from behind, encircling around your motion. The colours he couldn't see are for sure muted and distant, however your energy brought this monochromes into blooming hues.
Somehow it also feels odd to see the flower he adores on a girl he barely knew, a simple name that he can only taste on the tip of his tongue.
But all it was to him, was akin to ashes of coal in different shades. However, you stood and went away in the brightest shade of coal despite the colourless land. Your hair swaying with the breeze as you walk off, the way you carried yourself was something that he couldn't fathom.
Somehow, an ominous thought washes over the back of his mind, constantly pushing it further; would you float away like the passing clouds and never return again? He shakes off the thought, letting out an awkward chuckle. What would he gain from this either way? You were just another client, after all.
Another client.
“Miss!”
Feet stuck on the ground after his voice flew into your ears, your stomach grew butterflies as you turned your head over your shoulder to look at the distraught boy.
“What’s the matter.. Mr. Jay?”
Jay gulped down his throat, avoiding your gaze as he approached you like the motion of fleeting petals. His feet betraying his initial thoughts, causing him to look even more distraught. “I— ah.. forgot to say, but.. you have to come here next week to check your tat twice just for safety measures, you know.”
“Next week?..” raising your eyebrow at the thought, you were appalled that you even hesitated. There’s no more next week, nor a tomorrow—it’s all pointless. Your glistened orbs fell on your dappled yellow shoes. “I don’t think I can. But I appreciate it, Mr. Jay."
His hands behind his back formed into a slight fist.
"B-but.. I don't think the camellia's gonna survive if you let it just like that, you know." Jay took two steps closer, his feet stuck on the ground as the firm breeze brushed the monochrome petals on the side of his neck, just like the freshly engraved on yours. "The colours, I mean."
"Huh..?"
Now that you look at him with the golden hues of the sun infused in his eyes like honey, you've come to notice the desperation, determination and hope evident inside those softened orbs, and most importantly—the silent blooming of affection.
“Would you come?”
Tumblr media
「 talesofyuan on tumblr 2023 」 all rights reserved. do not copy or post without permission.
Tumblr media
102 notes · View notes
theoccultz · 9 months
Text
Lets talk about Current Venus rx and Aries north node transition-23
Theme: glitters and glammers are fading away ?
Why are people Acting weird?
Tumblr media
As someone who has aries north node in 22 degrees i feel much settled and comfortable with whats going on however initially it was exhausting to just enjoy life and not be on the go go and leave the mentality that everyone is out to get me .
A lesson with aries north node is you shouldn't try to control your circumstances rather be on the lookout for your actions ,others Behaviours , and be responsibille ,tie the loose ends ,dont take reckless actions (:
Similarly venus rx ,
Is not about you feeling ugly or things going wrong *i mean ofc we all are feeling messy *
The energy is definately much intense during retrograde period ,See whats its telling you and what issues are arising within dont sweep it Under the rug
Insecurities? Not feeling stable ? A Need to cling on weird people who wouldn't even treat you fairly ?
Venus rx is very interesting you'll be noticing where you sell yourself short ,not idealisng others and being raw with yourself + where you need to work on , and how your relationship patterns are working it'll be break-in with whats not built on solid ground , its like building a smooth surface in your life basically
On the positive side , relationship will be restored and mess will be clear venus rx is not abt relationships not working out but going through extremely tough changes , things you never addressed basically the elephant in the room is now visible. A lot of protest abt different things are going on which are being publicly viral is also venus rx seeking justice and flaming up the general public about what they believe in
Your partners insecurities, their past , their behaviours , everything has come to light for the best of course.
Plus your habitual patterns will be positively taking a turn, if you think you are going backwards in this period DO NOT PANICK its okay take things slow and restore balance ,make this work for you not let it influence you negatively or dwell into paat and things that were not meant to work out , "understand you were supposed to see the reality of situations" , do not go adapting harmful tendencies which you wouldn't commit in long-term for positive results .
Be uncomfortable with the change but be consistent with your self development,its all about making you realise your potential !!!
-----------------------------------------------
I'll make a post in depth about our current shifts .
57 notes · View notes
Note
ITS FUCKING TURTLE TIME okay so starting off: theres a specific softshell called the floridan softshell, right? and theyre kinda ugly adults but on the wikipedia page you can find a picture taken of a JUVENILE and i really really need you to see it its so fucking cute he has a little face and a little snout and big-ass eyes ( https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Florida_softshell_turtle#/media/File:Apalone_ferox_by_LA_Dawson.jpg )
theres also a specific set of turtles called map turtles and theyre so unbearably small. iirc they're THE smallest turtles in existence (and of them i think the ouachita map turtle is the smallest? though ofc i could be wrong)
theres also a specific image of a concentric diamondback terrapin (second result under images on google when you're in the "all" tab) and were it not for the laws of this land (being on anon) id send you the image directly because its just so beautiful and radiant and he has the most GORGEOUS shell it looks like polished wood and hes got very cow-like patterns on his scales and i thought you might like him
also theres a cheese-coloured softshell :)
-mr turtle guy
Tumblr media Tumblr media
im doing this out of order bc OKMMMGGGGNLOOOK AT HIIMM LOOK AT HIM AARRGGHHHHHH HES SO CUUUUUUTTEEE AAOOOOOGGH i didnt know they came in those colors!!!!! WAAAOOO
Tumblr media
OH MY GD HE L. he looks so cute he looks like a pikmin. to me. hes so cute
Tumblr media
WHAD THE FUCK!!!! TINY!!! LOOK AT HIS FINGERNAILS!!!
Tumblr media
ah.... da color of american cheese.........................
15 notes · View notes
deandoesthingstome · 1 year
Text
Night Moves
Tumblr media
Chapter 7
Pairing: Walter Marshall x OFC (Alexandra Pierce)
Series Summary: When Walter Marshall is called to investigate a homicide by the railroad tracks, he quickly uncovers an unsettling pattern. Alexandra Pierce just wants someone to find out what happened to her friend. She has some secrets, too. And Walter’s going to uncover them.
Word Count: 2504
Series Warnings: In general, this series will depict assault, murder, stripping, hooking, rough sex, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), p in v sex in various positions, self-loathing, failed relationships, smoking, alcohol, general violence, makeup sex, and maybe some comfort. +18, Minors DNI. Edit: If you were here before, know that I removed drug use and drug addiction. I had a plan and things changed, as they so often do.
Chapter Warnings: Angry Walter, police procedure (sure), more misogyny, some serious assault, self defense, pain, death.
A/N: I will not lie. This did NOT go the way I thought it would. It’s pretty dark and ugly. I think it’s important to the story though. I also didn’t get to the scene for the song I wanted, so there WILL be at least one more chapter. Please don’t cry.
Disclaimers: I do not own Walter Marshall, Night Hunter (Nomis), or any other characters from that movie, but I do own this OFC (Alexandra Pierce) and these words. Do not repost as your own. Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are more than welcome. It’s how I get my nourishment.
Header made by me, with pics found from Pexel.com and the internet. Dividers are not mine, but check out the masterlist for credit.
Playlist:  Night Moves Songs 23-26 Direct Spotify Link
Masterlist
Tumblr media
“Alright, listen up!” Walter bursts into the dispatch room with all the anger and energy of a man who has realized exactly what has been going on and whose life is at stake now. “I need someone to pull plates for Detective Mick Jonas and then scan all traffic cams starting at the intersection of 10th and Vine. I want to know where that car is heading like 5 minutes ago.”
The switchboard is lit up and it isn’t as if the operators are slacking, but the blank stares he gets do not help his demeanor.
“Is everyone deaf??? Get on this. Now!” He marches to the nearest desk to loom over the tech, and stares daggers at her while her fingers begin flying over the keyboard.
“Is that our Mick Jonas?” she asks.
“You got the plate?” He ignores her question with a glare.
“Coming right up. Okay, yeah, here it is, but I don’t…”
“Who’s got the cameras?” he interrupts her. His skin feels like it’s on fire and at any moment he’s going to break something if he doesn’t get an answer. When Rachel steps in the room, she sees his behavior as well as a familiar attitude. If she had to hazard a guess, it’s the reason he showed up in yesterday’s clothes but she knows it’s neither the time nor the place to ask about it. Only that she can’t let him run this search.
“Walter,” she puts a hand on his shoulder with enough pressure to let him know it’d be best not to shrug it away.
“I need to know where he’s going, Rachel!”
“We all need to know where he’s going. Yelling at the crew isn’t going to speed up the computers.”
“He’s not alone. He’s got another victim with him right now! Fuck!” Nothing about Rachel’s speech has calmed him down or gotten him to lower his voice.
“Who’s with him?”
“Alex… Alexandra Pierce.” 
The way he says her name, Rachel knows. And she knows she can’t stop him, but he won’t be going alone. She pulls out her cell to call another detective and tells him to be on standby for the chase. Dispatch’ll put a call out to officers in the area once they have a location, but she needs someone who can take charge of the scene, because it isn’t going to be Walter if she can help it. Not in the state he’s in.
Tumblr media
We are so close I can barely contain myself. One more corner, one more long stretch of road, one more gate to open and close, one more winding, tree-covered lane into a deep forest of pine. 
When we reach the bus, I’m on fire.
I can see the bitch starting to shift, move about. I look over and see her blink her eyes open and I just wait for the terror to creep into her eyes. And then I laugh.
I taunt her. I don’t even know what words are coming out of my mouth anymore, I just know she doesn’t like them and the more she doesn’t like them the more I say them. Over and over and over.
I keep a close eye on her when I open my door. I was careful to hit the switch to lock all the doors when I put her in the car, but now I just flip the lever for my lock. I can’t stop laughing when she thinks her door will open, too. She struggles just long enough for me to get around to her side so I’m ready when she finally finds the switch and opens the door. I'm right there ready to take her in my arms.
And then she does what none of them ever did. The thing I’ve been waiting for what seems like my entire life. 
She hits me.
It’s kinda my fault. I grabbed her under her arms. I let my guard down cause it’s been so goddamn easy lately. Well, all except that asshole that showed up the other night. But the ones I just beat up? The ones I thought for sure would fight back just a little? Nothing. 
They ignored me. Ignored the things I said to them. Acted like they had someone coming. Tried to walk away. Pulled out their phones, which were so easy to strip from their hands. But the best part? The thing that always got me going?
They would trip. Stumble. Those fucking ridiculous heels would end it for them every time. And I’d catch ‘em. Rush forward and grasp an arm or sometimes even get in front of them. But set ‘em right either way. Hold on just a beat too long. Smile. And they would know.
The right hook would come before they even took a deep enough breath to let out the scream they thought would save them. If I got it right, they’d spin just a little more off balance again so I could grab ‘em with my left. It was just more convenient than having to reach down to pick ‘em up off the ground just to get to hitting them again.
And if they didn’t fight back? Which they never fucking did. I’d just rough ‘em up. They were obviously easily swayed if they weren’t going to fight back. If they didn’t want to try to stop me, clearly they just didn’t care. And maybe that would be just the thing, the sign telling them it was time to be done with the whoring and the screwing around. TIme to stop flaunting their bodies for money and never for anyone who really deserved it.
But this one. She hits me again before I can comprehend what has just happened. And I’m just coming to my senses when I see she’s trying to draw her knee back so I know what’s coming and I jut my hips out of the way. I pull her close and butt my head against hers, knowing it ain’t going to feel great but it’s going to hurt her worse.
It gives me enough time to shore up my hold on her. I grab both her wrists in one hand and yank ‘em up hard over her head and I give her two more solid jabs, right in the eyes.
She is positively stunned and I think I’m good. But then she starts struggling again. She spits in my face and there is enough blood hanging around from the previous hits that some of what lands in my eye is colored and it burns. Stings. I can’t let go but I have to get this shit out of my eye.
So I’m still holding on to her arms when I lift my free hand to my face and fuck, right when I do, she connects her knee to my nuts and I let go of her hands to drop to the ground.
I can stand the pain a moment longer while I clear my vision and then I swallow hard because I see her trying to get back in the car and so I have to get up and to her fast. I grab her by the hair and pull her back against me, then turn her around and smack her across the face. 
She’s shocked enough again that I get a few more good solid hits in before she gets her wits back and tries again. 
This is so fuckin’ fun! That cunt from the other day was better than most which is what got her dead, but still was nothin’ compared to this bitch. Fuck, I think I’m hard right now.
Tumblr media
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Walter shouts. He can’t believe what Rachel has just said to him. After everything they’ve been through.
“It’s because I’ve been through it with you that I can’t let you lead on this, Walter, and you know I’m right.”
Walter is seeing only red as he stares at Rachel with crazy eyes, but she’s staring right back and she isn’t going to budge. He could move her physically out of the doorway but that’s going to feel like assault and he can’t risk it.
He takes a deep breath in through his nose, nostrils flaring before he huffs the breath out and back in again. A few more times and he can see a little clearer and he knows she’s right as much as he can’t admit it. 
“I’ll ride with you. Detective Greeves and his partner will take over when we get there. The patrol units are already on the way. From the traffic cam footage and a few more conversations with Lila we were finally able to pinpoint an old family plot a little out of town. So you know that also means the sheriff. It’s going to be a fucking mess out there, Walter, and I need you to stay the fuck out of it. Do you hear me?”
Walter nods, slowly, still breathing in and out. He shifts his head to the left to crack his neck and steps back from the doorway. With Rachel sure he’s under control, she steps back into the hall and turns to nod to Greeves. He hands a vest to her, then one to Walter when he finally leaves the dispatch room.
And now they are off. Walter’s got the GPS coordinates plugged in and he’s gritting through the instinct to drift around the lead car in front of him, but he promised. He doesn’t know what Rachel thinks she could do if he changed his mind right now, but he also knows if he does, he’s probably off the force.
Because if he gets to them first, he’s gonna kill him. And since he’s not actually on the case anymore, even if there weren't jurisdictional concerns, a shot from him isn’t going to be official. It’s going to be murder.
Tumblr media
Alex can’t stand up any more. She’s on her knees and he is still hitting the side of her head.
There’s some flashing lights and sharp, high pitched sounds and Alex can’t tell if it’s from the club or if maybe the apartment's electricity is on the fritz again and Mrs. Travers is calling for help. 
But these lights are blue and red. And yellow. And there are a lot of them. And the sound just doesn’t stop.
Alex hears someone yell ‘freeze’ and she hears a few more people yell ‘down on the ground’ and she can’t figure out why because she’s already on the ground but she collapses all the way anyway because no one is holding her up anymore.
And she hears her name. Someone is shouting her name. They are getting closer, but then not. 
“Get the fuck out of my way!” Walter shouts as he pushes past a uniformed officer and rushes to Alex’s side. “Alex, Alex! Can you hear me?”
He’s on his knees just next to her and he’s touching her shoulder and he wants so badly to pick her up and hold her in his arms but he doesn't know the extent of the damage and he can’t be the one to do more, so he runs his hand down her arm to grab her hand and he holds that instead.
Her hand is warm but there is no movement. He bends down low and turns his head so he can put his ear next to her mouth and watch her chest. It’s low, but it’s there. A little rise and fall. And he can hear a small gasp.
“Waller?” she croaks out.
“Yeah! Yes, yeah. I‘m here, Alex. I’m here.” Walter jerks his head up to see if her eyes are open. And they probably would be if they weren’t puffing up and sealing closed as they spoke.
“Where here?” a little muffled.
“It doesn’t matter. We’ve got an ambulance on the way and we’re gonna get you out of here and to some help. I just need you to hold on, okay. Keep talking to me, okay?”
“O-ay.” 
Walter can see her jaw isn’t sitting right and even though he’s not a doctor or EMT or whatever the fuck ever, he sure as fuck knows he can’t leave it hanging like that. He reaches down under his vest to rip a wide swatch from his t-shirt and tears it once more at a side seam to pull it all the way off so he’s got a long strip he can maneuver around her head. He knows he shouldn’t move her jaw to the side, so it’s gonna have to stay off-kilter while he presses it gently up so he can shorten the bandage and tie it as loosely-tight on top of her head as he dares.
And this means she can’t talk to him now. Fuck.
“Alex? Honey? I know you can’t talk right now and I don’t want you to even try anymore. And I know you can’t blink your eyes once or twice for me either. Don’t worry. Can you huff for me? One for yes, two for no.”
For a brief moment Walter wants to kick himself because if it’s no, she can’t huff even once. What a fucking moron! He hangs his head low.
But then he feels a short puff on his neck and he almost gives himself whiplash to turn his face to her again.
“That’s good, Alex. That’s really good.” He wants to smile so she can hear it in his voice, but he’s terrified right now. Terrified he’s about to lose the best thing that’s happened to him since Faye. There’s no smile covering that sound.
“Detective Marshall?” a voice calls down. “No questions about the case, okay?”
“You’re fucking standing right there. You can hear anything I ask her.” Walter pulls himself up a little so he’s not shouting directly in her face, even as he tries to temper it with gritted teeth and little sneer.
“We can’t hear her response. And it seems like you’re the only one who’s gonna feel it. Let’s just get her to a hospital and then figure out how to get her statement.”
Walter grits his teeth again and bites in the response he wants to give as he sees Rachel make her way over.
“The ambulances are here.”
“Plural?” he asks as he turns to look. One gurney out with a board and clean bed, one gurney out with a black bag. He never even heard the shot.
The EMTs shift him out of the way, slip a spinal board under her, and hoist Alex to the gurney before rolling her away. Walter turns to Rachel with a look of despair and she sends him off with a quick ‘go’.
Walter hoists himself into the back of the ambulance before they can shut the door. He doesn’t care whether they think he’s officially on duty. He sits down beside Alex and grabs her hand, leans in and whispers in her ear.
“Hold on, Alex. Please.”
Taglist: (If you asked for a tag and it’s not here, Tumblr likely isn’t letting me tag you. Ask if you want me to try again.)
Chapter 8
Anything: @kittenofdoomage @fvckinghenrycavill @mayloma @sillyrabbit81 @kebabgirl67 @beck07990  (Also throwing in a few from the old days for old times sake ;) @littlegreenplasticsoldier @anotherwinchesterfangirl @sebbytrash @feelmyroarrrr)
NM: @enchantedbytomandhenry @kingliam2019 @henryownsme @littlefreya @identity2212 @marantha @angelcavill66 @sweetdreamsofgelato @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @greensleeves888 @dinoswierdmom @geralts-yenn @wabi-sabi1090 @bourbonwithice​ @used-to-be-bourbonwithice (this one doesn’t work for me, sorry!)
103 notes · View notes
enden-k · 1 year
Text
saw ppl call kavehs animation ugly and boring on one side, the others finding them great on the other so here i go explain why i like them and find them fitting for his character bc i like kaveh a normal amount ✌
its prob the same thing with zhongli enjoyers legit getting mad hes shown as a "friendly gentle grandpa" in the game bc it doesnt fit their hcs (trust me, i saw ppl on twt being all upset bc hes the opposite of their violent egoist zhongli hc) i feel like some people really hold onto their hcs and beliefs of a character they think of them as true and canon and get super annoyed or mad when it gets disproven (which i dont understand really)
anyway, most ppl hate kavehs animations bc they were hoping to see him wield the claymore and show hes stronger and buffer than al haitham. ppl ofc are free to think of kaveh however they want; if they want him more muscled or tall or lifting the claymore then thats all fine, i literally dont care. i just wanna ramble about how i think his animation is actually not as boring and ugly as they call it, but pretty fitting for his character :]
first of all that "silly briefcase" he holds onto is actually a lil robot friend called mehrak and it does the attacks for him. kaveh controls mehrak and how and where the attack strikes. it keeps him free and nimble and i already yelled about how beautiful his animation look bc!!! they are
his movement is very clean and measured, not a single step out of it. at the same time its very artsy, the little jump he does, how he keeps a certain rhythm and how he goes with his knees (i cant find the proper english words to describe what i wanna say in my language) - its all very similar to a dance. hes so light and graceful on his feet
kaveh is an architect; he was a ksharewar student, the school of technology and theory, and he appreciates and pursuits aesthetics and arts. he is both creative and logical; its why he can keep up with al haitham (who was at haravatat btw, meaning he studied linguistics/semiotics. they really are opposites yet matching in any sense huh)
after all architecture is pretty much mathemical form of art and you can see that so clearly in the swings the claymore does: it looks like a ruler or divider for geometrical/technical drawing (architect kaveh) and its especially gorgeous after his burst, showing pretty flowery patterns (kaveh pursuing aesthetics)
(↑from here)
so seeing his animations as a mix of measured steps and dancelike movement and all the shapes of his swings, i think it fits him as this creative, logical person perfectly. sm thought put into it
anw, this is what i thought when i saw his animations, so im a bit confused some ppl seem to hate it just bc hes not whacking people with a claymore violently and show muscle. i think this fits him perfectly (altho it would have been so funny if he would have wielded the claymore with his slender body type akjcbjk)
btw im not judging or talking bad about anyone tho, no matter if they like kavehs animations or not. just wanted to show theres thought put into it to make it match kaveh as the person he is :]
kavetham view (no matter if you like seeing them romantic or platonic): it also adds more to the sun and moon boyfriends opposites with similar traits complementing each other thing with al haitham (theres a ton between them but thats an essay for another time if u want) → kavehs measured, clean movements vs haithams violent, kinda feral movements 🙏
133 notes · View notes
unohanabbygirl · 7 months
Text
Part two of four to my FMN hairstyles plus this verse’s canon hair facts thread because why not?
Just like Laena, Alicent is also a very simple woman when it comes to how she styles her hair. Its not that she’s afraid of change but that she’s simply content with her current style. This look has did her good two thousand years ago and it does her good now. A pretty brown that sometimes looks reddish depending on the light, a few nice layers and blown out bangs are all she needs. Alicent straightens her hair every once in a while but only because she likes the way it makes her layers pop out when she bumps the ends. Though she’s finding other heatless methods since Laena has been hassling her about using her blow dryer + flat iron too much.
Whenever she visits foster centers or spends time with her clients little sisters or daughters the girls love playing with her hair, happily allowing them style it in fishtail braids with little ribbons and bows.
Visenya has nearly given her a few panic attacks because her grabby little hands love trying to rip out clumps of her bangs.
She may or may not be contributing to Baela’s hair ties going missing.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
If I had to use one word to describe Rhaena’s hair it would be fairycore. Bows, beads, barrettes and hair jewelry of all kinds have always been her friend. Sometimes they’re colorful while other-times they’re monochromatic but there’s always a pattern they take on. I imagine that if she were to go to the Renaissance concert that she’d wrap all of her locs in sliver hair string with shiny silver beads at the end.
Updos are her everything, her hair stays in ponytails or buns. Usually paired with a bang swooped to the side.
She cut bangs into her hair a few summers ago and reattached her locs with a crochet needle when she missed them because they’re such apart of her. But she’s sure she’s gonna do it again soon because its such a look. Not to mention that temporary hair color held such a special place in her heart in her middle school years. Especially pinks, purples, and blues. 12 yr old Rhaena used to take a few locs and go crazy with the color during the warmer months. Though she always made sure to use a vegan brand because their products washed out the easiest, two deep shampoos and she was back blonde.
She’s currently considering dying her whole head a light plum color and Is definitely the reason so many of Baela’s hair ties go missing but returns them secretly whenever her sister gets box braid or faux locs because she’s 100% gonna keep them in a ponytail the whole time before cutting them out.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Aegon iii AKA 🥚
He’s a lil emo baby and I truly love that for him. Very much into the dramatic, editorial sort of hairstyles which are veryy unconventional but is kinda scared of what Rhaenyra would think if he went that far because his mother’s approval means everything above all and is scared shitless she wouldn’t. Instead, he chooses to cut himself some choppy layers and dye the ends jet black with cheap box-dye. His bangs are way too overgrown and don’t even really qualify as bangs anymore. It’s to the point where he kinda can’t see but doesn’t make them shorter because he’s too committed to this specific look.
Doesn’t care too much about maintaining health so he’s rough with his hair and uses the crappy three in one shampoos while hardly conditioning (yes, his hair is dry asf but we love him anyway)
Will likely go fully jet black with blonde highlights one day.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Aegon’s hair is…lets just say it looks cool which is great!
Its not ugly at all, most people like the messy almost mullet look he’a got going on. However, the real problem is that it’s somehow even more dry than Egg’s. He washes it ofc, but never conditions because its too much work and lets be real here; Aegon would 100% not even bathe if it were socially acceptable to be musty. (Plus Jace is all about good hygiene and Baela will literally punch him if he comes in her face smelling like old socks so it serves as encouragement.)
Aemond has tried to get him going with a proper haircare routine several times but it’s more difficult than training a dog to do sign language so he’s given up completely.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
10 notes · View notes
margaretqualleytruther · 11 months
Text
one last taylor swift post. her current flame that was pr analyzed to death by her millenial team that has one gay dude for diversity points as soon as she felt the first stir of attraction. which def happened while she was still with that ugly british dude LOL. he probably cheated on her first but ofc she can’t let her general fans find out she’s also one bc of the constant need to always be seen as a victim and never as the predatory business savy megalomaniac she really is even though she wants to promote a bad girl image with the 1975 dude 🙄… she can’t even fart in peace without swifties analyzing the shit particles like tea leaves for who she’s currently fucking. the consequent internet meltdown by her parasitic fans which was probably one of the biggest draws to getting with milquetoast edgelord twat healy cause she for sure hates them and wants her space from the constant scrutiny even though that is quite literally what her and her team most utilized to reach the heights she has including her current career high even though she has meltdowns any time something negative is said of her due to her obscene ego. obv i’m not immune bc i like talking about her gay flings but i like all gay celeb gossip in general and also why i’m interested in her bc you dig one inch beneath her carefully constructed pr top soil and realize she would be one of those serial killer nurses if she wasn’t famous. and don’t even get me started on the dykes that STILL think she’s a lesbian, that was an acceptable thought in like 2014 maybe. massive cope to think she isn’t just bi and likes fucking dudes too instead of the every man she breathes near is in a full blown bearding situation with her like she’s an old hollywood starlet or something. even then she wishes, they had 20x the balls size than she ever will. shoutout katharine hepburn. more on her predatory ways ie the olivia rodrigo situation where she went beast mode on her for riding her coattails a little during SOUR like she didn’t do the exact same thing with tim mcgraw LOL. literally sicced her $2000 an hour or whatever tf lawyers on olivia for copyright which took a significant chunk of royalties for some of her biggest hits off of the album and then got paramore’s team to do the same 😭 and then pretended like nothing new was written in 2012 for red like it isn’t the most obvious crying over olivia blowing up and using her name a bit for promo. olivia could have gone the lorde way where she could have organically gotten closer to her and then had to have painfully extracted herself from taylor’s grip so either way it would have ended badly in between them (also she def got with lorde for a bit, parts of melodrama start clicking in place when you realize that). the most fragile ego in the game which is also why she barely ever lets other women feature and if they do they get sent directly to background vocals except phoebe bridgers but i attribute that to the bpd spell phoebe casts over pathetic people. just a constant pattern with her. katy perry, lorde, her girl squad, her former men where she surrounds herself with underlings whose energy she can feed off of till they obviously turn against her control freak ways so then she casts them off to the wolves (her fans) and also the reason she’s stuck stunting with the haim sisters. will be awaiting her and healy’s breakup for their epic public battle of personality disordered egos. i know she has more testosterone than he ever will and will try to absolutely pulverize him in the public’s eye but she’s so overexposed rn i sense another fall from grace due to it. amen 🙏
19 notes · View notes
sillydumbdoll · 7 days
Note
Because you seem so so pleased to tell the world about all the things that make you needy:
Long socks, thigh-high stockings, or fishnets?
Skirts - Flared to show off what's underneath or tight and restrictive?
Panties - Something innocent, something pretty, something slutty, or nothing at all?
Finally, what are you wearing at the moment?
I love telling everyone my weaknesses!!!
1. Thigh high stockings! They r so pretty and look good on my shape! I have big thighs and I like the way they squish :)
2. Flared skirts! They make me feel pretty!
3. Innocent and pretty! Something with a tiny bow in the front, maybe a lace trim, pink or white, maybe a cute pattern but full/almost full coverage. It makes me feel so much cuter to have a cute innocent little pair of panties, ofc slutty panties have their time and place too tho! I barely have any cute/pretty panties tho…I only have ugly plain panties then sexy panties/thongs 😡
4. Nothing at all
2 notes · View notes
lordwisteria · 2 months
Text
writing patterns tag game
Thank you for the tag @chejuu!! This is so fun!!!
Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!
With the shrill shriek of a whistle, the first game of Grant’s senior year ended, the score a devastating 6-30. [Stupid Games and Stupid Prizes]
Growing up, Dick’s favorite place in the world was a cabin his parents liked to rent for family holidays. [snapshots]
Dick gritted his teeth against the noise. [road trip blues]
The silver and chrome diner gleamed in the strong evening light, looking like something out of a postcard. [pauses in the conversation]
Watching Bats hover around the new kid sent something ugly tearing through Jason’s stomach. [The Promised Tomorrow]
John and Mary meet under the big top. What happens next? If you’re looking for the ending you know, try A. [Happy Endings]
Riko is seven years old the first time he meets his older brother. [do not blame the body]
Slade closed the doors to his private chamber, finally alone. [Feeling Throne]
“Are you alright, Jay?” Dick’s voice, thin and trembling as it always was nowadays, was not enough to steal Jason’s attention from their narrow window, but when he laid one hand over the other boy’s, Jason started violently. [old ends and holy writ]
“B!” [flipped too many times]
Whew ok. I don't see much of a commonality lmfao but also I've stared at all of this way too long. It is funny, seeing as I really only consider myself a Dick fan/writer, the majority of these are not from Dick's POV (we'll also ignore the one aftg fic lol). I like writing about how much Dick changes people's lives as much as fics about him I guess?
tagging:@dustorangeheartssnowman, @blackbeanbao, @unicorncoalition because I am curious!! (no pressure ofc)
6 notes · View notes
drama-by-daylight · 1 year
Note
Just wanted to pop in and say this-
I love Vittorio- yeah, he’s an “attractive white guy”, but I didn’t start loving his character until I learned about his backstory (because I’m a huge history nerd) and his personality.
I also really love Zarina and Haddie and Elodie. They’re brave and lovable and inspirational to me and many others. (And yes, BHVR needs to give them more skins, and I’m really hoping they’re gonna do that in the future.) Just because you enjoy one character doesn’t mean you can’t love others, and it doesn’t define who you are or what you stand for. I’m sure there are many Haddie players that like Vittorio and Vice versa.
I do NOT want to start drama at all. I just wanted to say that appreciating one character doesn’t mean you don’t like others, regardless of skin tones.
Hello! I appreciate you giving your insight! However, I feel I need to clear things up a bit to paint a bigger picture. ☺️
I never said you couldn't like Vittorio because ofc you can! You can like any character you want for any reason you want! I'm not against that whatsoever!
HOWEVER-
I'm seeing a rather common pattern with characters like Vittorio. His release was fairly recent and yet he already has more cosmetics compared to characters like Haddie.
Tumblr media
See, Haddie has three recolors that are basically rip offs, one ultra rare set that's linked, one rare outfit that's prime-locked, and an outfit that's event locked.
She has also arguably received more hate upon release compared to other survivors simply because she looks "ugly", which is absolutely not true, some people are just blind.
I don't hate nor dislike Vittorio because of his lore (despite me personally finding him uninteresting) and I most certainly don't despise him because he's white. If that energy was coming off from one or more of my posts, I do apologize for that because race shaming is not my intention, I was merely stating a pattern I was personally seeing.
My issue with him lies in the fact that he was essentially made to be a thirst trap because let's be honest here. Bhvr knew what they were doing when they were designing him AND his cosmetics. Like, he already has three ultra rare sets (yes, I am counting the Lunar event outfit because the fact he's getting one over the Asian characters is weird to me), two rare outfits, and a tome.
Meanwhile, Haddie has been an important figure in the tome lore for the past year or so and her potential is being wasted.
All of my posts regarding this matter are to be taken with a grain of salt and are purely my own personal opinions. I also do not wish to start drama with this response.
I truly do appreciate your insight on this topic!
Thank you for coming to my Ted talk
15 notes · View notes
hauntedradiotower · 2 years
Text
OWCA origins
“hot take: OWCA is not a spy organization. it’s an experimental therapy program. if needed I will elaborate but I think we can all agree.“
Tumblr media
Theatrical villains are rampant in the Phineas and Ferb universe. Before the existence of OWCA, it was worse. People lived in constant fear that they would fall victim to mustache-growing laser beams shooting through the sky and OSHA-noncompliant bear traps opening in the sidewalk. Authorities were desperate for any solution. So desperate, in fact, that they did something unheard of: They turned (partially) from violence, and towards psychology.
A leading study showed that all these depraved theater nerds had one thing in common: a tragic backstory, full of neglect and deprivation. The head of the study, a little-known sociologist/expert in animal behavior/genetic engineer/major general i guess/gymnast/seriously what has he not done?, got an idea. Here’s a transcript of his conversation requesting permission and financial support from the President:
Major Francis Monogram: “I’ve got it! I know what they need to change for the better!” President: “Well, don’t bust my chops man, what is it?” MM: “Emotional support.” President: “???” MM: “That’s right: Emotional support.” President: “But they already have all the emotional support they need via L.O.V.E.M.U.F.F.I.N.!” [Direct result of CIA involvement] MM: “No! I mean emotional support in the right direction. Companionship.” President: “Well, sir, at this point I’ll accept anything. What’s your proposal?” MM: “I propose... emotional support pets.” President: “Emotional support pets?” MM: “Quite right. Although, we’ll call them NEMESES. Nemesises? Whatever. We’ll assign each villain a custom Nemesis, based on their personality and crime patterns. For example! That old coot in California who’s really into hijacking aquariums and stealing the decorative coral? We’ll set her up with an octopus nemesis. Say that five times fast. AH. HAH. HAH.” President: “Stopping crime with cute animals? It’ll never work!” MM: “Ah, but what if these cute animals were also highly intelligent and trained in JIU JITSU?” President: “Ahhhh, through experimental genetic engineering that hasn’t been cleared by NIMH or WHO etc etc etc?” MM: “Yessir that’s the one sir.” President: “Permission granted. Go nuts.” MM: “The point is, these Nemeses will provide an outlet for combative and contraption-esque violence, but the whole time what’s actually going down is COMPANIONSHIP. And the national casualty count. We’d love that to go down, too.” President: “yeah ofc ofc, just one thing. Who will lead this mission?” MM: “Carl the intern and I, sir.” President: “And where will you get the genetically modified animals?” MM:  MM:  MM: “We’ve already got them, sir.”
[FLASHBACK to Carl the Then-Paid Intern sneaking animals out of the lab under cover of night]
President: “Fantastic! Make it so!” MM: "Now, about our funding?” President: “Ha! Don’t look at Uncle Sam. 100% of taxpayer dollars have gone to filling the potholes and funding mustache removal syndicates.” MM: “But there are still potholes everywhere. Not to mention mustaches.” President: “Not my problem. I have a hovercraft that takes me wherever I want to go. Slash Carl’s income, or let your science project die!” MM: “Yes sir.”
-
And thus, Organization Without a Cool Acronym was born. The effects were seen almost immediately. Crime went down, canceled out by the efforts of the emotionally-intelligent martial artist pets. All of OWCA’s budget went to taking care of the animals and bribing people from NIMH, PETA, and just about every organization with a cool acronym out there. That’s the ugly truth you don’t see onscreen. But that’s the truth. Everything you see on the P&F wiki is lies and propaganda. This may be my final message to you all.
32 notes · View notes
atemourisan · 10 months
Text
Hiraya aka Amihan
Tumblr media
She is a new Senbasa oc and ofc the first filipina oc I ever drew. ❤️❤️ She is also part of my original historical fiction story where instead of the Imjin War, the Japanese venture to the Philippines to drive the western imperialist colonizers out.
Amihan was born in Luzon 434 years ago.
She was the daughter of the chief of a group of native filipino tribe called the Igorot.
Her real name was Hiraya. But she was always referred to by her nickname Amihan which meant "wind" or "Winter Storm".
It is to be noted that Ami is nicknamed after the goddess/God Amihan due to her wish to venture outside her village in the Codillera mountains and see where the wind takes her.
Her father, however, forbids it due to the Invasion of the colonists committing genocide and forcing their beliefs very violently towards the filipino people.
Amihan, however, finds a way to meet with Japanese traders but also Middle Eastern traders and traders from North East Asia.
But she also goes to make new friends with other indigenous filipino tribes such as the Visayan, Twalisi, etc
Ami does ofc learn that the world can be an ugly place when she is abducted by colonists along with several other women and including a trader from Japan and fears that if she is able to make it back home. She'll have to receive a lecture from her father and mother.
Ami would be rescued by Kurushima Michifusa, but even though he rescued her, she immediately fled. As she thought, he was one of the Wōkou pirates who have a notorious reputation for stirring up trouble along the coasts of other countries in Asia. But historically speaking, the filipino people suffered more oppression from the Spanish than they did with the Wōkou pirates during then.
But of course, Ami grows smitten with him upon meeting him after he goes after her to make sure she doesn't get picked up by the common enemy and when Ami realizes that he means her no harm. But their romance develops more than that since Michifusa doesn't realize it until she teaches him that the real ambition to his occupation is adventure.
More is to come when I finish Michifusa's design.
When Ami does take him to meet her parents, let's just say, though, they're glad Ouchi Yoshitaka sent someone to rescue her. They are very suspicious of Michifusa because he is a leader of pirates. But this is because they have been isolating themselves within the mountains for so long they find the pirates sus because the Wōkou pirates.
Michifusa, in my senbasa, probably wishes she could go with him to Ehime, but let's just say she's reluctant because she's nervous about going to a strange land across the Pacific ocean to the north. During this time, Michifusa had to return to Japan for business reasons. But Ami does eventually go there due to Takahime's curiosity of what her husband's youngest brother's mentions of meeting a woman with skin like copper with an adventurous nature.
Even Michifusa thinks at first that she's a princess, but the system with the Igorot tribe is very different compared to his homeland's status and marital system. So yeah, good luck with being an earlier and japanese version of King Norodom I of Cambodia, Michifusa. Even though it ain't relevant to the story or that Ami is gonna dump you for a foreign religion. XD
Changing the topic here, so bare with me.
Ami's favorite thing to eat is Pinikpikan, which is one of many igorot cuisine.
She ofc loves buko juice.
When she first saw the billowing sails of japanese ships on the coast of Luzon. She could only describe those sails as "almost bland" since in south Eastern Asian culture, patterns are a big thing in clothing, architecture etc.
Which is why she finds samurai armor fascinating as they are works of art.
4 notes · View notes
stsebastiens · 2 years
Text
moving forward: a primer for unlearning (and re-learning) your faith
this resource list is based on the last seven years of my life and the media that helped me, personally, reckon with the christian evangelical upbringing that I had. ofc our life experiences are all going to be vastly different, so the tools that helped me may not help you, but i hope this provides at least a place to start. 
NONFICTION
Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith – Kathleen Norris 
“It seems clear, from reading the daily news if nothing else, that there will always be some in this world who want their holy wars, who will discriminate, vilify, and even kill in the name of God. They have narrowed down the concept of neighbor to include only those like themselves, in terms of creed, caste, race, sex, or sexual orientation. But there is also much evidence that there are many who know that a neighbor might be anyone at all, and are willing to act on that assumption.” 
The Genesis Trilogy (And It Was Good, A Stone for a Pillow, Sold Into Egypt) – Madeline L’Engle
“We can recognize the holy good even while we are achingly, fearfully aware of all that has been done to it through greed and lust for power and blind stupidity. We forget the original good of all creation because of our own destructiveness. The ugly fact that evil can be willed for people by other people, and that the evil comes to pass, does not take away our capacity to will good. There may be many spirits abroad other than the Holy Spirit…but they do not make the Holy Spirit less holy. Our paradoxes and contradictions expand; our openness to God’s revelations to us must also be capable of expansion. Our religion must always be subject to change without notice––our religion, not our faith, but the patterns in which we understand and express our faith.”
The Lost Art of Scripture – Karen Armstrong
“In many ways, we seem to be losing the art of scripture in the modern world. Instead of reading it to achieve transformation, we use it to confirm our own views––either that our religion is right and that of our enemies wrong, or, in the case of sceptics, that religion is unworthy of serious consideration…because its creation myths do not concur with recent scientific discoveries, militant atheists have condemned the Bible as a pack of lies, while Christian funadmentalists have developed a “creation science” claiming that the book of Genesis is scientifically sound in every detail.”
Telling the Truth: The Gospel as Tragedy, Comedy, and Fairy Tale – Frederick Buechner
“For reasons of his own God hides himself from us, but however you account for it, he is often more conspicuous by his absence than by his presence, and his absence is much of what we labor under and are heavy-laden by. Just as sacramental theology speaks of a doctrine of the Real Presence, maybe it should speak also of a doctrine of the Real Absence because absence can be sacramental, too, a door left open, a chamber of the heart kept ready and waiting.”
American Harvest – Marie Mutsuki Mockett
“A writer friend once said to me than in intimacy with another person we build a world. When we lose that person––when they leave us––we lose that beautiful world. This is why breakups can be so devastating and why the death of a beloved is so shattering. It must be like this for someone raised to believe that the house in which they live––the house of God––is stable, only to start to see it as only a mirage. A simulator. How terrifying it is to doubt, to risk losing the entire world.” 
FICTION
Gilead –  Marylinne Robinson
“So my advice is this––don’t look for proofs. Don’t bother with them at all. They are never sufficient to the question, and they’re always a little impertinent, I think, because they claim for God a place within our conceptual grasp…I’m not saying never doubt or question. The Lord gave you a mind so that you would make honest use of it. I’m saying you must be sure that the doubts and questions are your own, not, so to speak, the mustache and walking stick that happen to be the fashion of any particular moment.”
Transcendent Kingdom – Yaa Gyasi
“At times, my life now feels so at odds with the religious teaching of my childhood that I wonder what the little girl I once was would think of the woman I’ve become…but the truth is I haven’t much changed. I still have so many of the same questions, like ‘Do we have control over our thoughts?’, but I am looking for a different way to answer them. I am looking for new names for old feelings. My soul is still my soul, even if I rarely call it that.” 
POETRY
Mary Oliver - Whistling Swans - Franz Marc’s Blue Horses - Drifting - The World I Live In
Christian Wiman – All My Friends are Finding New Beliefs 
PODCASTS
Where Do We Go From Here - S3 Ep. 97, “The Quest for Desire” - S3 Ep. 64  “Biblical Womanhood Was Always Cultural Womanhood” - S2 Ep. 23, “Why We Need Touch” - S2 Ep. 22  “I wasn’t Straight, but I Also Wasn’t Gay” - S2 Ep. 17  “Sex is for Wives, Too” 
The Church Politics Podcast - “Christendom and the Politics of Christian Self-Interest” - “The Black Panthers, Grace, and the Aesthetic of Justice”
The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill
12 notes · View notes
gaystuffgarbage · 2 years
Note
What was their wedding like? Was it a big or small one? Where did they have it? What did Sonic and Shadow wear? How many times did they cry from joy between them?
(I'm sorry, I love sonadow wedding scenarios)
Ahh fuck uh
The wedding was relatively small, only friends and close family.
I have no idea where some kind of nice building with a white floor and a lot of flowers scattered everywhere, mainly roses. So pretty elegant, ofc it was since Shadow planned it.
Shadow was wearing the classic almost plain black tuxedo combo and Sonic. Well...
Tuxedo yeah, but then he had sneakers and an ugly tie with ring pattern on it. And ofc his dress shirt (that barely fit him) got food stains on it almost right after the ceremony
Sonic cried a little. Shadow cried almost constantly
18 notes · View notes