#but how can i elude the /r/ that is the question

[shukruut]

Hiii

I'm looking for someone to practice my English speaking skills (hopefully someone who can help me with RP)

maybe this is a weird request but I really need to practice this accent

DM me if you'd be able to help me out !! thank u

[amerricanartwork]

RW Headcanon: Goodnight, Moon

AHHH YESSSS, now that that Lilypad essay is done I can FINALLY share these—!

Hey, @ghostlycoze! So you remember a few months ago how I made that drawing acting on the Moon beepsnort headcanon, and how in my last reblog I eluded to the possibility of drawing out some of your headcanons again? Well, it looks like that time has come, and this time I've got not just drawings, but lots of additions to another headcanon of yours!

This time, it's from your tags in these three posts, which I also saw a while ago! Yet for some reason I began thinking about it again recently, and as is my nature with ideas I like, I decided to develop it further, and even draw it this time!

Also, just to preface, you'll see I did a bunch of notes beside the actual drawings as well. I'll share the picture and roughly type out the notes (in case my handwriting is a bit hard to read) as well as whatever info I couldn't fit on the page. Some of the text also just says "robots" rather than "iterators" because some of these ideas are stuff I actually imagine applying to robot characters in general! Maybe I'll make a post on that someday...

With all that out of the way though, the actual headcanon is under the cut! Hope you like it!

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What are iterators like when they’re sleepy? Do they even get “sleepy” the way we humans do? This headcanon answers that question with a focus on the iterators’ puppets. Much of this info is also framed in the context of a hypothetical “worm-off-the-string” scenario, since I believe that’s the main situation where sleep and getting tired would actually matter to the iterators.

Firstly, when iterator puppets are low on power, until they find a place to recharge they usually enter a power-saving state where, to conserve what’s left of it, their energy is temporarily redirected away from some of their less-important processes. The side-effect of this, however, is that iterator puppets show symptoms of drowsiness kinda like humans! Whereas humans may yawn, stretch, or rub their eyes when sleepy, iterators will often make sloppier/less precise movements, close their lenses a little, and may even have a harder time thinking, since they sometimes shut off some processors and other cognitive functions until they can recharge. The most common symptom, however, is slurred speech, coming from less power given to their speech-forming software.

Another very-common sign of iterator sleepiness is frequent beeping, often in place of words. This is because, like slurred speech, beeps take much less energy and processing to make than analyzing data, formulating a complex response, then vocalizing it clearly. Beeps are thus far more efficient for conveying simple emotions and reactions than words. Looks to the Moon in particular gets super beepy when she’s tired because she and other early models relied more on beeps for communication — they were made back when things like vivid emotion weren’t as taboo in Ancient society, and iterators were meant to be more friendly and openly interactive with their citizens — so she’s more used to beeping to easily express her emotions. 

As a side-note and mini-headcanon (wow, real headcanon-layering action here), while even the newest iterator puppets can beep, the older iterator models, as a result of this design influence, also have a much greater “beep-vocabulary” with a wider range of sounds that shrunk with the generations. Their beeps are thus a lot more expressive as well, with some sounds even being similar in nature to animal noises or regular speech! I imagine the entire range of their beeps would closely resemble shorter versions of the “droidspeak” sounds of the astromechs in Star Wars.

But, back to sleepy iterators. 

When it’s hibernation time, iterators enter a “sleep-mode”, where almost all of their systems are shut down and recharging becomes the primary objective. However, compared to how I imagine other robots, iterator puppets have a unique way of recharging. Rather than shutting off completely and absorbing power from an external source, iterator puppets have a few key systems within them that remain on even during sleep-mode. These systems, just like those in their superstructures, are capable of converting nutrients into power directly. They emit a soft, rather comforting whirr while the puppets sleep — the only sound iterators make while sleeping, and comparable in nature to stomach sounds during digestion. Otherwise, though, the only other systems remaining on during sleep-mode are a few basic senses, and a program that decides when to “wake up”. The presence of this program also means, uniquely to iterators again, they can wake up on their own, rather than having to be powered back on by someone else like other robots. Overall, these systems are yet another aspect of iterator designs that make them far more biological than many iterators (*cough* *cough* Pebbles *cough*) would like to admit.  And in my imaginings of a “worm-off-the-string” AU, systems like these are one of the main sources of both physical and internal conflict for these characters.

Also, since most of their systems are off during sleep mode, iterators sleep, both figuratively and literally, like statues. Whatever position they fall asleep in is the position they remain in the entire time unless a.) someone moves them or b.) they wake up and move on their own. This also means (unfortunately, if you thought these ideas would be cute) that iterators do not snore, shift around, sleepwalk, sleep-talk, or dream while in sleep mode.

That’s about it for this headcanon as it applies to iterator puppets overall. Now, I’m gonna get into how I imagine Looks to the Moon specifically likes to sleep.

In addition to getting very beepy, Moon also gets very cuddly when sleepy, though some of this comes from her affectionate personality. However, it's also due to a lasting trauma from her collapse. Of course she's learned to tolerate the rain over time, yet after spending so many cycles being rapidly drowned over and over in her can — with endless disorientation and senses so out-of-control from being disconnected from most of her superstructure, no one around to comfort her save for the occasional wandering creature, and the knowledge that her own beloved brother was responsible for this — it’s still left a fair amount of bad memories with her, especially from those cycles most recently after her collapse/revival, and this general unease often resurfaces with the sound of the rain. Therefore, whenever the rain comes, this trauma serves as another, more internal reason Looks to the Moon always wants to fall asleep holding onto/being held by someone, or at the very least while sharing the shelter with someone she loves. 

On a more positive note, since I’m now officially a Lilypad shipper, I imagine that No Significant Harassment is Moon’s default choice of cuddling partner! It can be a little hard to get in position — I imagine Moon always likes to be the little spoon despite her being slightly taller than him — but they manage! Moon pretty much always falls asleep first, because, as the oldest model of the group, and having sustained the most damage post-collapse on top of that, she simply doesn’t use power as efficiently as the others do and therefore gets tired much more easily. In some ways, the poor thing even feels a little guilty about it; she’s supposed to be the leader of this group, and yet here she is, tiring out after less travel and growing drowsy before the rain even starts! Luckily, Sig makes an effort to ensure her she’s more-than worth keeping around, because after every awful thing the world has thrown at her kindness, the least she deserves is some quality guilt-free nap time! And sometimes, if they want a little alone-time (or if Pebbles gets too fed-up with their lovey-dovey gestures), it’ll be just the two of them, and perhaps their slugcats, cuddling together in the shelter. 

And speaking of slugcats, Moon’s second choice of cuddles is Rivulet! Being very soft, warm, and equally cuddly, she makes another good source of cuddles for Moon. And sometimes, if Hunter’s also around and willing, the two join forces with Sig and Hunter for a big, soft, cuddle-filled slumber party!

Still, though, Sig is definitely no. 1 provider of snuggles for Moon. But he loves her dearly, so for the most part he doesn’t mind! Since she falls asleep first, some of his favorite moments each cycle are from just watching her and holding her close as the rainfall echoes from outside; she always looks so beautiful when she’s relaxed, and having her in his arms makes him feel like he can protect her no matter what. So he never really minds when Moon, slurring her words, tiredly asks for him to hold her while she enters sleep mode. 

That is, except when this happens and he’s stuck in that spot for the next several hours…

A few more ideas to this headcanon:

Moon’s third choice of cuddles is Five Pebbles. It’s a bit interesting, because in basically all other scenarios Pebbles insists on sleeping alone in a separate shelter, even though he’s actually rather touch-starved (though it'll be a while before he admits it). Moon is one of the only people he’s actually willing to sleep with, besides occasionally Artificer (in which the feeling is mutual and no one else must be in the room). If I someday decide to ship Pebbles with someone, I imagine he’d also be willing to sleep with them, again, only if no one else is around to see it.

To elaborate on the last point and shift to Five Pebbles’ perspective, the reason why Pebbles always wants to sleep alone is because, as I imagine the worm-off-the-string story so far, Pebbles’ biggest internal conflicts are learning to accept all those “worldly attachments” the Ancients so strongly rejected, and overcoming his god-complex and fear of relying on others. And one of the main ways this manifests is him being so deeply embarrassed to be dealing with these basic survival needs — like yet another one of the savage beasts roaming the world, after having been a vast mechanical god so far above those primitive creatures — that he refuses to let others, even his friends and family, observe him in such a “pitiful” state whenever possible, and resolves to try and overcome it alone. 

To further continue this idea, this is why Moon sometimes insists on sleeping with him. Even though he’ll have to overcome these conflicts on his own, it doesn’t mean he has to be alone while he does it. She makes an effort during these and other moments in this scenario to assure him that it’s okay, no one’s gonna judge or punish him for living this way, and she’ll always be there if he ever decides to accept some help. Pebbles always falls asleep with his head buried in her chest and holding onto her very tightly.

The iterators often like to sleep with their slugcats, who in the AU also stick around a lot to help guide them as they figure out the ins-and-outs of organic survival. 

Both Moon and Pebbles tend to sleep in a curled position. It's actually very similar to how slugcats generally sleep!

Pebbles is quite the workaholic in general, but it also means he has a hard time falling asleep — not because he doesn’t get sleepy, but rather that he often denies it or its significance in an attempt to get more done that cycle (and because, again, he’s “too advanced” for animalistic things like sleeping). The group often has to literally drag him to bed to get him to sleep, and Sig often teases him when his lenses start drooping and his syllables begin to stretch.

In extreme cases, where almost all of their power has been exhausted, iterators won't just slur their words anymore, but their speech will often lose coherency overall, like a spoken case of very drunk typing .

When sleepy, Moon not only slurs her words, but has a tendency to say rather strange and very silly things. It’s another side-effect of less power being used to actually think through her words. There have been many instances where the whole group erupted in laughter after Moon made a really out-of-left-field comment!

Oh, and here's one last quick doodle based off one of the ones above:

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Aaaand that's all for another headcanon! Even though it took me a whole week to do the drawings, it was SO fun getting to develop this idea, especially since sleepy Moonie is such a cute concept! I am so glad that you shared that little idea, Ghost!!

And speaking of which, if you've made it all the way down here, Ghost, may I invite you to add any more ideas to all this, if you want? I'd especially love hearing ideas for the other iterators' sleeping habits (how fast they get tired, what position they like to sleep in, who they usually sleep with, how they wind down before bed, etc.)! I mainly focused on Moon and a bit of Pebbles at the end, since I'm still trying to get a read on Sig and Suns's personalities (especially Suns), so it'd be fun to even further expand on this idea in that regard! Of course, you don't have to, but it's a proposition!

But regardless, I hope you and anyone else who made it to the bottom enjoyed my contributions to the idea! And be sure to keep the adorable headcanon ideas coming!!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Bonus: Here are the full sketchbook pages, in case anyone was interested in seeing the completed layout! I think I'm gonna be making more of these kinds of drawing/explanation combo artworks!3

[helenrourke]

This is the ask for you to talk about your Akira/Tsukushi headcanons!! :)

You can gush all you want, if you feel comfortable to! I assure you I’ll glady read it, however long it comes out!

Some questions to start:

Why have you chosen the name Mene?

Do you think their relationship would change depending on the source (K-drama, J-drama, C-drama, anime, manga)? If so, how/ how not?

Thank you so much for sending this. I'm so excited this is my first ask on this sideblog of mine.

Why did I decide to name my Akira x Tsukushi fic Mene?

That's a great question. When I first came up with this fic idea, I knew I wanted a name that involved the moon because Akira associates himself with the moon.  I also am a fan of Greek/Roman mythology (I blame Sailor Moon for this), so I figured I could incorporate that into the story title somehow.  Mene is another name for the goddess of the Moon Selene.  In addition, the word Mene means moon and the lunar month.  The plot of Mene takes place over the course of a lunar month.  So I was basically able to use some of my nerdiness to come up with hopefully a unique title.  I haven’t exactly checked if this name has been used on any other fics on AO3, but I honestly don’t care.

Do you think their relationship would change depending on the source?

I'm gonna start by saying I have not watched the Anime or Meteor Garden (2018). I'm sorry I'm such a fake fan lol Anyway my thoughts have always been that Mene takes place in the alternate universe of the manga where Tsukasa and Tsukushi never truly crossed paths. The story is from Akira's pov and it takes place during his first year of university. Meaning it's Tsukushi’s final year at Eitoku Academy’s high school department. One day Akira runs into Tsukushi kneeing someone in the groin (you bet I'm going to use that AO3 tag I made again) and Akira is intrigued why someone from his school who is filled with daughters of elite families would do that. Then they keep on bumping into each other at Eitoku Academy. That's how it begins anyway. I feel that's the main theme if I was to write this story for any other adaption. The key point is that Tsukasa never crosses paths with Tsukushi first. The J-Drama is similar to the manga universe where Tsukasa is in New York. The only difference is that Sakurako didn't use Tsukushi to get revenge, cause she liked Tsukushi too much to use her. Sakurako tries to act her revenge on her own and fails. Then suddenly Tsukushi finds out her friend transfered to a school in Australia without telling her. In the K-Drama Jandi never attended school with the F4. Because face it Jandi would have never stood for the bullying unlike Tsukushi who was trying to stay under the radar. Woobin would still witnesses Jandi kneeing someone in the groin, however they would keep bumping into each other in Seoul, instead of Eitoku like the manga and J-drama universes. As for the Thai adaption. That eludes me at this time. I'm not sure how MJ and Goyra would met. Also MJ has a love interest named Aum. So I think it would make things much more complicated.

Yeah these were honestly great questions. I never would had thought about the second one. What else can I say about Mene without spoiling much. I do plan on Akira's family having a bigger roles in the story. Be prepared for the twins to challenge Tsukushi for there brother's affection lol. I honestly love Emu and Memu and feel they are seriously underused side characters. Yoko Kamio give us a spin off about the twins please.

Also Soujirou notices Akira likes Tsukushi right away and acts as his wingman. He also forces Rui to help get them together.

This fic is also inspired by my belief that Tsukushi was destined to be intertwined with the F4 even without Tsukasa. Honestly, I believe that the two would actually compliment each other very nicely. Akira has the habit of putting others first which is why he never even had a chance in the orginal story. This one shot in a way is giving others readers a chance to see what I see in this rare pairing.

But if you have anymore questions anon, let me know. This goes for anyone who has questions bout Mene or any of my other fics that I have written on AO3.

[mccdreamys-writes]

smiles for miles – 6. ain't like home

burn the bridges in our town till the point where we drown, as it all comes down. - Dotan, Home

S E P T E M B E R   1 7 T H   2 0 1 1

Coming back to Kansas City stirred up a storm of feelings inside me, pulling memories from the depths where they'd been hiding for so long. Walking down those streets again, it felt like a tug-of-war between wanting to be here and wishing I were anywhere else.

It had been ages since I'd been in this city, and part of me questioned if I even wanted to be back. But duty called, reminding me why I'd returned—Maile needed me, and that was reason enough.

"Alex."

The sound of my name, spoken with such gravity, cut through the air, snapping me back to reality. I turned to see my brother coming towards me, a reminder of the family ties that bind us, whether we liked it or not.

Inhaling deeply to steady my nerves, I acknowledged him with a nod, my greeting carrying a mix of composure and underlying tension. "Scott," I said, my tone carefully neutral, though hints of apprehension lingered beneath the surface.

Despite the warmth of the sun casting its golden glow over the city streets, an intangible chill seemed to permeate the air, casting a shadow over our interaction.

His question hung between us, weighted with skepticism and perhaps a touch of judgment. "What brings you back here?" he queried, his voice betraying a hint of doubt.

Meeting his gaze with unwavering resolve, I made my intentions clear. "I'm here for Maile," I asserted firmly, my words leaving no room for misinterpretation.

An incredulous scoff escaped him, accompanied by a dismissive roll of his eyes. "You're kidding, right?" he retorted, frustration lacing his voice. "I thought you were done with all of that, you finally moved on."

Though his words stung, I refused to let them shake my determination. "Maile's gone missing, Scott," I explained, the gravity of the situation weighing heavily in my tone. "I couldn't just ignore that."

His uncertainty was clear, etched in the lines of his face and the cautious tone in his voice. "I thought you and her weren't on speaking terms," he remarked, his curiosity evident.

I met his gaze squarely, my determination unwavering despite the skepticism in his eyes. "There's more to it than that," I replied, my voice steady.

His skepticism persisted as he leaned forward, pressing for more information. "How can you be so sure she's missing?" he probed further.

In response, I reached across the table, laying out the collection of poems in front of him. His brow furrowed as he examined the pages, his skepticism growing. "What's the deal with these?" he questioned, his tone tinged with suspicion.

"Poems," I stated plainly, my voice calm but resolute. Despite his doubts, I knew these verses held the key to understanding Maile's disappearance, and I was determined to make him understand their significance. "She wrote them."

He delicately lifted the first poem from the table, his fingers moving with a mix of caution and curiosity, as though each line held a hidden message waiting to be deciphered. With furrowed brows, he scanned the verses, his gaze lingering on certain words, perhaps searching for clues that eluded even the most discerning eye.

After a moment, he set the first poem down and reached for the second, his demeanor shifting to one of deeper concentration. His eyes darted across the page, absorbing each word with intent scrutiny, as if trying to unravel the secrets woven within the lines. Finally, with a thoughtful exhale, he placed the second poem beside the first, his expression a blend of contemplation and skepticism.

Turning his attention back to me, he voiced his doubts, his tone tinged with uncertainty. "What makes you so certain she wrote these?" he questioned, his skepticism challenging the notion that these poems were Maile's handiwork.

I felt a pang of frustration at my inability to provide concrete evidence, my conviction resting solely on intuition and the haunting familiarity of Maile's writing style. How could I convey the depth of my certainty when I lacked tangible proof?

Sensing my inner turmoil, Hotch interjected with a calm authority, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. "Let me point something out," he began, his tone measured yet authoritative. "In the first poem, the word 'Smiles' is capitalized and circled in what we believe to be her blood. And as you might know, your sister used to call her-"

My brother's expression softened slightly as Hotch's words sank in, a flicker of recognition crossing his features. "Smiles," he echoed, the word carrying a weight of memories and shared experiences. Yet, despite this moment of recognition, skepticism still lingered as he voiced his doubts. "You know, Alex, this is a stretch to say the least. We need more than just circumstantial evidence to make such claims."

With determination in my voice, I faced him squarely, my patience wearing thin like an old rug. "You don't need to help us, Scott," I shot back, frustration seeping into my tone. "We've been given a place on your turf. If you want to join our investigation, feel free to do so. If you don't, stay the hell out of my way."

Turning sharply on my heel, I exited the room, leaving behind a lingering cloud of tension thicker than molasses. Despite my departure, the echo of conversation between my brother and my team members still reached my ears.

Morgan's words hung in the air like a gentle breeze, a reminder of the seriousness of the situation. "This means a great deal to her," his voice carried, tinged with concern. "You might want to take it seriously."

But my brother's response sliced through the atmosphere like a sharp knife, his tone rigid and unwavering. "I can't," he snapped back tersely. "I can't take anything seriously that has to do with that Crane girl. Alex's always been crazy about that girl, something I never understood. That girl is insane, and makes Alex look like a pedophile. I... Alex can't think straight when it comes to that girl."

As his words sank into my thoughts, a mix of frustration and disbelief bubbled up within me. How could he casually dismiss the seriousness of our situation, shrugging off the urgency of our investigation like it was nothing? But it was clear that changing his mind wouldn't be easy.

"Is it really that hard to ease her mind?" Hotch's question hung in the air like a heavy fog, casting a palpable tension over the room as everyone waited for my brother's response. When he stayed quiet, Hotch pushed forward, his voice steady but firm.

"If you don't trust Blake," Hotch started, his words deliberate, "that's okay. But then help us by proving that Maile Crane has nothing to do with this. We need to know everything about her. And everything about her connection with your sister."

As I observed him from behind the partially open blinds of the office, I could sense the weight of his frustration in the way his hands grasped at his hair. His voice, tinged with a mix of nostalgia and unease, filled the room as he began to recount memories from our past.

"We used to live right across from the Crane family," he started, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "There was Everett Crane, Josephine, and Maile. They were always a bit peculiar." His words hung in the air, carrying a mix of uncertainty and intrigue.

"He was a friendly guy, everyone in the neighborhood loved him," he continued, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice. "Josephine kept to herself mostly, didn't socialize much. Alex, though, she really took a shine to her. I think Alex was probably the only person Josephine ever really talked to around here."

Listening to his memories, I couldn't help but reflect on my own experiences with our former neighbors. Josephine held a special place in my heart; she was like a second mother to me. Despite the description, I remembered her as gentle and nurturing, always there with a kind word or a story to share. She had taught me how to read, passing on a gift that I later shared with her daughter, Maile.

As he delved further into his memories, each word seemed to stir up a whirlwind of emotions inside me. His voice, lacking any emotion, cut through the air, yet his words sparked a fiery anger within me.

"I guess I never really got to know her," he continued, his tone distant. "But she... she was always just wandering around, observing everything. And whenever someone tried to talk to her, she'd bolt and run away." His words painted a picture of Maile, but it clashed with the lively, spirited girl I remembered.

"Nobody really got close to her, except for Alex," he added. At the mention of my name, a flood of memories rushed back—times spent with Maile, secrets shared under the moonlight.

"My sister was crazy about that girl, more than she was about her own family," he admitted, bitterness dripping from his words. "She'd make decisions, big ones, based on what would be good for Maile." His revelation filled the room, highlighting the sacrifices made for love.

"People in the neighborhood thought she was obsessed with that girl. They wondered if she'd had a 'thing' for Maile," he continued, his tone heavy with resentment. "They started to keep a distance. It really put a strain on our family." The weight of his confession lingered, casting a shadow over our past.

Leaving the building, weighed down by my brother's revelations, I sought refuge in the calmness of the precinct's benches outside. The breeze offered a soothing touch against my skin, a brief respite from the storm raging within.

Soon, my team joined me, their presence a welcome distraction from the turmoil in my mind. Morgan's question broke the silence, delving straight to the heart of the matter.

"Did Maile always have to watch out for people?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

I nodded, memories of the Crane household flooding back vividly. "Yeah, he beat that into her. Same with Josephine," I confessed, the gravity of my words hanging in the air. "They lived in constant fear of everyone."

Anxiety gripped me tightly as I spoke, a sense of urgency pushing my words forward. "I want to make something clear. I wasn't in love with Maile. I loved- still love her, but I promise..."

Hotch's hand gently rested on my shoulder, offering a momentary sense of reassurance. His eyes conveyed understanding as he spoke softly. "We know, Blake," he reassured me, his voice a comforting presence in the midst of my turmoil. "But we also recognize that circumstances change."

I turned to him, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within me. "What do you mean?" I inquired, my voice tinged with uncertainty and a hint of fear.

His expression softened, a mixture of sympathy and resolve evident in his gaze. "What I mean is, Maile holds a special place in your heart," he explained gently but firmly. "No matter how much time passes or how hard you try to deny it, she's deeply ingrained in your soul. The way you talk about her, the way you care for her—you have given her your heart and you're not gonna get it back. Blake. And that's something you can't change. She is the love of your life."

His words struck a chord deep inside me, reminding me of something I had tried to ignore. Thinking back on my life, I couldn't deny the strong feelings I always had for Maile. No matter what, she was the most important person to me.

I tried to find happiness with other people, getting into relationships and even getting married. But nothing compared to what I felt for Maile. Even when she wasn't around, I couldn't forget about her. She was always on my mind, guiding me like a bright light in the dark.

In my life story, Maile was like the string that held everything together. Even though I tried to move on, she was always there, shaping my decisions and influencing my path.

With a heavy heart, I accepted the undeniable truth: Maile was more than just a friend; she was the love of my life, the one who held the key to my heart, even when she was absent from it.

"So where are we going next?" Morgan asked.

Raising my gaze to meet Morgan's inquisitive eyes, I felt a surge of determination coursing through me, mingling with the memories that flooded my mind. "We're going to 'the house across the street'."

[copyrightcreep]

You know the drill, all of the questions >:)

alright you evil critter. time to do the typing.

who is/are your comfort character(s)? Astarion and Karlach from bg3. space core from portal 2. Alex Danvers from supergirl. Luz and Vee from The Owl house.

lighter or matches? matches

do you leave the window open at night? sometimes. but usually, yes.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? werewolves and skinwalkers

what color are your eyes? mixture of green, blue/grey and brown

why did you do that?

hair-ties or scrunchies? hair ties

how many water bottles are in your room right now? 2. one i use for work and one for when i'm at home.

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? hot coffee in the morning, ice coffee when relaxing

would you slaughter the rich? with much glee and different ways to do so yes.

favorite extracurricular activity? biking and people watching!

what kind of day is it? murder on the brain, pain in the limbs kinda day

when was the last time you ate? an actual meal? at 10 am. is 2 pm now.

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? yes.

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) of a bunny called Mochi. but not of human kids no.

can you drive? n o p e aha.

are you farsighted or nearsighted? near-sighted

what hair products do you use? shampoo, conditioner and a hair mask.

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? if you asked. absolutely.

do you say soda or pop? f r i s d r a n k but soda in english

something you’ve kept since childhood? trauma. uh i mean. a stuffed animal i got since birth. his name is Mousey.

what type of person are you? i act very indifferent at 1st but i will flipping do anything if you get my trust. and i will share everything when safe.

how do you feel about chilly weather? love it. i can't feel cold all that well so i thrive in winter months.

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? i'd bring snacks and a nice fluffy blanket maybe a picknick. talk and eat until night and then stargaze all night

perfume/body spray or lotion? body spray

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? a lotta stuff. but i'll go with my mom's death since it's most recently been on my mind.

about how many hours of sleep did you get? uh. like 6?

do you wear a mask? during covid, yes. regularly? not unless it's required for work.

how do you like your shower water? a lil shy of burning my skin off

is there dishes in your room? yepp. kinda always are

what type of music keeps you grounded? 2 types. emotional stuff i relate to. and vibey music.

do you have a favorite towel? yes, it's a white one with rainbow squares. i love it!!

the last adventure you’ve been on? probs when i was a kid running trough the forest with my siblings.

is there a song you know every word to by heart? oh boy do i. nearly every song from icon for hire, smash into pieces and a bunch from Florence + the machine

what’s your timezone? CE(S)T. the S is for Summertime

how many times have you changed your url? nada on this blog haha

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? no one i actively speak to. but @stephlastname comes the closest with like 7 years.

a soap bar that smells good? bars of soap elude me.

do you use lip balm? i should. but i don't

did you have any snacks today? had some chocolate snacks.

how do you take your coffee? 2 zoetjes or 1 packet of sugar and 2 milk.

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? whatsapp and discord

what’s your take on spicy foods? occasionally very good. but my childhood makes it rough to enjoy them.

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? Past: Hitler, Present: Putin, Personal: an old teacher who didn't 'believe' in adhd.

can you remember what happened yesterday? sorta, feels like walking trough mud to remember.

favorite holiday film? the 1st home alone

what was the last message you sent? dang right i want to!!

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? oh jeez. i tried wine when i was like 7 or 8. beer around the same time. somebody gave me a bunch of vodka when i was 17. i almost forgot the time where my mom let me drink a whole glass of bacardi cola when i was 9

can you skip rocks? NOPE. i flipping suck haha

can i tag you in random stuff? absolutely and please do!!

thanks for the askkkkkk

[sherrifdoggo]

The Map's Setting, A History

Long Talky One Again, this time it's gonna get autobiographical.

So, as i've eluded to in the past, the map (rp_chicago, see previous posts) is not say in our 1930s. It's set in my funny lore setting that i've been cultivating for the past few years that even though has had more abandonded projects tied to it than i can count still doesn't have a name that isn't a working title.

Ladies, Gentlemen and Etceras, It is my honor to present my baby to the world,

The Staten Island Universe

Yes the name sucks and makes you ask more questions than a title should, but there's a fun story behind the bizarre name i promise. Anyways here i go.

The beginings of the Staten Island universe started back in my highschool days, when i used to DM some D&D for a big friend group i had. One day, after playing too much Grand Theft Auto on my PS4 (This was in 2017? or so i think), i had a moment where the stars aligned.

What if i made a D&D campaign set in a modern crime story, without removing all the D&D elements.

And so it was, i never finished it, but we did play an unfinished version of it a couple times and it was very enjoyable. Specially the quest where you had to kill a bard with an electric guitar in the abandoned times square toys-r-us.

Unluckly, me sucking at math caused my grades to slump and now i had less time to make more D&D shit, and ended up throwing the whole project away in the dreaded vault of dead projects.

Now skipping ahead a couple years and it's my last semester of high school, in 2020. So i'm locked in my room pretending to be paying attention to whatever the teacher was saying (maybe related to my slumped grades from above) and making a new D&D campaign that my friends and i were gonna run over the internet this time. The plot of it was unimportant but what was important was my recent (at the time) acquisition of my current computer and a vr headset.

Before i got the VR headset, and around the time I upgraded from a ok-ish Acer Nitro 5 gaming laptop to this thing, i was making a really shit gmod map.

Stallen Island i called it,

and it was my headcannon version of what the missing part of New York City (Staten Island) would look like in GTA IV's map, of course with nowhere near the amount of skill and art-direction to pull it off in fucking Gmod, but i tried my best.

Eventually i got bored of making this map, and/or ran out of ideas for it so i receded into doing whatever it is i did for fun back then. Until my high school friends contacted me over the internet.

They wanted to play some more D&D over the internet, so i obliged. I made them a new campaign and had a silly little idea for it. What if all the maps for it were actually gmod maps instead of PNGs.

These are my only published maps, The D&D map collection.

Info about them individually on their pictures, but i did actually get to play it with them and they enjoyed it very much.

But...

Around the same time i had finally gotten my VR Headset. And i'd been playing a lot of Skyrim VR, which influenced the design of this D&D campaign. Specifically I inserted my Khajiit into it, Mr. Ralasajeeno as a Theif.

But all this is just autobiographical shit right what does this have to do with the big name you put in yellow up there?

Well one night i was writting more shit for the campaign when it hit like how the best ideas hit you, blasting directly into your brain at 3AM.

I remembered the other D&D campaign again, and i revived it as a really big design doc i still have on my computer for a open world crime sandbox game that plays like a mix of GTA and D&D / Skyrim, A.K.A. a game that would cost too much time and money for me to ever make.

Every day, i would wake up and add more and more lore, characters, ideas for situations, missions, locations, items and it would grow so god damn big that eventually i felt like i had to make something for it.

So i had an idea, how about i make a new version of that map i mentioned earlier.

It's name was Staten Island, and it fucking rocked

Staten Island was the biggest map i ever made, and i never really finished it.

Not because of a lack of ideas, because i had plenty of ideas for it, i just outgrew it. Though it forever holds a part in my heart as the map that really kickstarted the Staten Island Universe as it's own thing. Many of the things written down in the lore for it are direct from either me needing assets for the map or questions people would ask while playing on it.

Afterwards there were a couple more Modern Staten Island Universe maps. Pictures Here:

Finally, how does Chicago fit into all this?

Well after a really long time of making smaller maps that didn't go anywhere, making other types of addons and being a support dev for other people's addons, i finally had a good idea for a map again.

This map was the current map, Chicago.

I had the idea while playing lots of Mafia: Definitive Edition a couple months back and having a grand old time.

I always wanted to do something in the past of the Staten Island Universe, so the idea was to make this map and then make a couple more maps.

Each map would pick a different time period and location, moving slowly towards today. Chicago is step one of this plan and unlike all these other maps, i do intend on sticking with this one all the way to the finish line.

trust me bro, i swear

please trust me

[and-justice-for-zoisite]

𝕀 𝕒𝕞 𝕥𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕖𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟!!

-

Hello!! To those of you who have been around here for a while, you'll know I stopped taking requests due to various break up events. However, I have recently began getting back into writing fan fiction, and would like to challenge myself with some requests again to see how I go.

The rules are:

Things I will write for:

lgbtq+ characters and ships

Any gender identity + pronouns

physical and mental disabilities

Race and cultural specifications

Mental illness

Hurt/comfort

Mega uber angst (character death, sensitive topics, graphic violent content, etc.)

Fluff

Smut (vague and descriptive)

Platonic ships

Romantic ships

Things I will NOT write for:

r*pe (unless eluding to it, or a trauma comfort fic. I will not describe any acts)

incest

proship content

racism, sexism, lgbtq+ phobia, etc.

underaged characters or readers (unless it's in a platonic way)

If you have any questions regarding my terms, please feel free to private message me to ask and we can clear anything up.

My Character list can be found here.

And my inbox is here.

[bandomgay]

THE ZANE LOWE INTERVIEW THOUGHTS ...

ALEX BEING CHEEKY ABOUT THE COMPLEMENTS PLS HES SO ❤️❤️❤️

zane is literally so sweet about how he approaches questions so differently from other ppl to Alex like I love the way he's adapting to Alex's personality and he makes Alex comfortable

Mirrorball and do I wanna know being the ones that set the stage for the album really shows and that really makes me think about Alexs love for the aesthetics of music and whether consciously or not and it kinda goes back to all am albums are essentially a place that you go to not only musically even though that's the art medium you r using to get there it's also visually a place and Alex knows that and he sees that actively while writing and reflecting

Zane pointing out JUST how sad mirrorball is AND RADIO WANTED TO CUT THE INITIAL INTRODUCTION and we learn (if you haven't already by inferring) that theres a relationship between the intro and "don't get emotional" like....that's fucking amazing like I was thinking it but him saying it blew my mind like reacting to music within music...and how it's represented in the video somehow gave me even MORE astounding love for mirrorball and what it means to me, genuinely a breathtaking detail

More speak of the unrealeased song!!!! Hopefully we get a b side maybe but usually it's released under singles so maybe not but we can hope since they're actively expressing interest in it

This may be way to opinionated sorry lol but Alex saying the end of the tbhc tour made him want to get back out there so like wildly getting that energy in and it sounds like he may have been going for a big studio stadium sound ("let's do summat BIG" , "all down strokes") it reminds me of Halsey if you guys keep up with them about their decision to go with the softer sounds of "If I can't have love" after realizing they were to caught up in their angst or the negativity of their life in a bad way which made it's way into their single "nightmare" and it reminds me of the end of the tbhc tour and it hurts to think about but I'm glad, even though all these songs are gut wrenching it's being put out in a healthy way now after reflection and there's a lot of talk of that in this interview sometimes subtle sometimes not

Also I think adding on the fact that Zane said it sounds like the band is fighting there way out of the songs but are not,if this isn't to far fetched kinda way reminds me of how reserved (prone to very outlandish/lh levels of self editing/self control)Alex is and how he's trying to combat that more recently (in interviews and in song) though they are small changes they make quite mighty strides in the long run

Love the ideas of the band itself being an instrument for something grander on this album it's like it's supporting an idea or a feeling and thats just how large that feeling is that the band itself is serving the songs and emotion

LOVE THE TALK OF BAND DYNAMICS LOVE THAT JAMIE IS STILL THE RASCAL DJJCJCJJDJCJDJJC them supporting Alex when he's doubtful about his ideas :')))) COOKIE MAKING THE BIG DECISIONS SINCE THE BEGINNING IS SO :)

Them talking about how crazy it was when it all first began even eluding to how stressful (even using the word traumatic which I agree with) that was being so young and having that much fame already Alex talking about how he literally doesn't remember playing the reading tent which is so :'(

ALEXS DEAD PAN "I think that were the intention" (or something along those lines) and Zane dying like u literally can tell if Alex is like being for real

ZANE BASICALLY TELLING HIM NOT TO BASICALLY RETREAT INTO HIMSELF WHEN ASKING HIM ABT MEMORIES IN A CAR ....Zane you bloody mindreader he knows fr (one of us! one of us one of us!)

MR SCHWARTZ STAYING STRONG FOR THE CREW.....love that Zane straight up asks who this is and Alex gives and very great metaphor that I actually got when I listened to it!!! Like I literally saw the same thing mentally like I imagined the crew putting the king's theater stage together when listening to it if that's weird idk (definitely something hidden in this metaphor)

THE RITZ TO THE RUBBLE BIT IS EVERYTHING TO ME..........OH MY GOD....A BIT BROADWAY ON THAT SONG HELP MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE !!!!!!!

And that concludes my mini analysis I hope u guys enjoyed reading that and have ur own thoughts u wanna send me or comment, sorry! if this post is too long I'm just :')

[sass-and-suspenders]

Inquiry

GIF from plutoandpersephone

Pairing: Dr. Frederick Chilton x Reader

Author’s Note: In vain I have struggled …with the formatting of this story. Did I use html? Yes. Does it show up correctly when I preview it? Yes. Will it show up correctly when it’s posted? Knowing this website, probably not. I’m posting despite the (possibly) faulty formatting because I will snap like a stale rubber band if I have to fiddle around with it for a minute longer. That said, I hope you enjoy because this was fun to write (but not to format)

Frederick Chilton’s heart was beating far too quickly for something as mundane as writing an email. Normally, he could compose a message in a matter of minutes with little concern for how the recipient would react to his autocratic demands.

This time, however, you were on the receiving end.

And Frederick deeply cared what you thought.

It would have been easier if this was for a work-related matter. As the hospital administrator, Frederick often sent you updates about policy changes or questions regarding your patients. He wrote these emails effortlessly, addressing you like any other member of his staff while ignoring how his heart fluttered whenever your name appeared in his inbox. With the small exception of inquiries about your weekend (something Frederick never did with other employees), his correspondence to you remained strictly professional.

Until now.

It had taken months, but Frederick finally worked up the nerve to ask you on a date. It was non-traditional, asking someone out via email, but Frederick considered asking over the phone or in-person too risky; the chance of rejection was already high, he didn’t need to add to it by stumbling over his words or blushing in your presence like an imbecile. An email allowed Frederick time to organize his thoughts and select the right words to convey just how much you meant to him.

Writing may have been the safest medium, but it wasn’t the fastest. Fifteen minutes had elapsed and Frederick was still struggling with the salutation: ‘My dearest’ seemed too intimate, ‘Good afternoon’ too formal, ‘Ciao’ too pretentious, ‘Ahoy’ too …nautical.

Frederick fiddled with his pen and leaned back in his chair, refusing to acknowledge that he was out of his depth. His love life was preternaturally dormant, yes, but he was a man of science, not to mention a patron of the arts -he could write a simple email. He was just overthinking it, attaching too much significance to every word as if selecting the wrong one would result in rejection.

Sighing, Frederick left his desk to fetch some alcohol, a time-honoured cure for writer’s block. As he poured the amber liquid from the decanter, Frederick reassured himself of his literary prowess: he’d written a myriad of scientific articles, many of which won awards, and there was growing interest in a manuscript he was working on about the Chesapeake Ripper.

He sat back down at his desk with bolstered confidence and a glass of brandy. The opening still eluded him but, rather than dwell on it further, Frederick used a placeholder and began to work on the body of the email.

As he wrote, Frederick likened himself to a suitor in a Jane Austen novel confessing his fervent desire to his beloved. He only hoped that his prose would convince you to give him a chance since, considering the weather in Baltimore, he wouldn’t be strutting out of a lake anytime soon.

Inspired by this little reverie, Frederick soon finished. He took another sip of brandy before looking over what he had written.

To:

From: frederick.chilton@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Inquiry

[Insert salutation]

Ever since we met, I have ardently admired you. Your warmth, beauty, and quick wit are just some of the ways you brighten my day whenever I am graced with your presence. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me to dinner?

I await your reply with hopeful anticipation.

Yours,

Frederick

Satisfied, Frederick turned his attention to the greeting, lightly tapping his pen against his lips as he thought. It took a few moments, but Frederick finally settled on ‘Dear’, a classic opening. After switching out the salutation placeholder for ‘Dear’ followed by your name, Frederick read over the email one last time. He took a large drink of brandy before selecting your email address and pressing send.

Contrary to his belief, the beating in his chest didn’t slow once the email was dispatched. What if you rejected him? How would he bear to see you at work every day? Worse, what if you never responded, leaving him to perpetually wonder whether it was a silent rejection or a lost email?

The familiar ping of an email notification snapped Frederick out of his self-made purgatory. He took a few deep breaths, a half-hearted attempt to quell his rapid heartbeat, as he wondered whether it was a good sign that you responded so quickly. His eyes flicked to his inbox: there, sitting atop of messages from psychiatry journals and irksome colleagues, was a reply.

Only it wasn’t from you.

Frederick’s brow furrowed. Why was a nurse replying to the email he sent you? It didn’t take long after opening the email to realize his mistake: choosing the hospital’s listserv rather than your email address, effectively sending out his declaration of love to the entire hospital. He let out an almost inaudible whimper, knowing it was too late to retract the message.

Apparently, he could control the content of the message, but not its audience.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: angela.ramirez@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Inquiry

Ask them out in-person, you insecure little weenie!

Frederick hastily deleted the email, but two more popped up in its place like some sort of electronic hydra. It didn't take long for the wolves to respond, and Frederick could only stare at the screen in horror as the replies began pouring in. He swore he could hear laughter in the hallway and began debating whether he should move out of the country or just the state. Depending on how widespread knowledge of his blunder became it may even be wise to leave the continent. Vienna was supposed to be nice this time of year.

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: phillipa.canter@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Inquiry

Girl, you can do better!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jackson.doyle@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: valentine.anderson@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Please remove me from this list. Thanks

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

EVERYONE STOP REPLYING ALL!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: gillian.coverly@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

‘Ardently’? Who does Chilton think he is, Mr. Darcy?

 Gillian Coverly, M.D.

Psychiatry Resident, BSHCI

gillian.coverly@bshci.com

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: jonas.dhavernas@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

More like Mr. Collins, am I right? LOL

 Jonas Dhavernas

Security Services | 555-3193 ext. 0315

Frederick harrumphed (he was definitely not a Mr. Collins) and made a mental note to schedule those two for the night shift for the foreseeable future. However, his indignation quickly gave way to woe as he continued to scroll through the other emails in his inbox.

To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: luis.torres@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

lol desperate much

 Luis Torres, PhD

Director of Forensic Psychiatry

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 0583 | (Cell) 555-2391 | (Fax) 555-8942

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: hettienne.moreno@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ralph.chlumsky@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I’d like to remind everyone that this listserv is for work-related emails only.

Please be professional.

 Ralph Chlumsky, Patient Care Manager

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: kevin.fishburne@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

SERIOUSLY STOP SENDING EMAILS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Sent from my iPhone

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: bryan.dancy@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: judith.mulrooney@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

As a member of HR, I would like to remind you that you are not obligated to say yes to a date just because Dr. Chilton is your superior.

Please let me know if you would like to file a complaint against him for harassment

Sincerely,

 Judith Mulrooney

Senior Human Resources Manager

(Tel.) 555-3193 ext. 3598

 Nothing is impossible. The word itself says ‘I’M POSSIBLE!’ – Audrey Hepburn

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com  

From: it.admin@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Can everyone please stop replying all? Our servers can’t handle the load and might crash if this continues.

Thanks,

Your friendly neighborhood IT Department

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: dennis.abrams@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: alfredo.rohl@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

 Hi, can anyone give me a lift to work tomorrow? I’m in Federal Hill

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski @bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Everyone please stop replying all! It’s not that hard, and IT said our server will crash if we keep on doing it!

 Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Ellen, your “everyone stop replying all message” was also a reply all!

Ugh, I work with IDIOTS!

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: ellen.ostrowski@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

Don’t get all high and mighty with me, Shawna, you also used reply all! Frankly, your use of reply all when the server is unstable is just what I’d expect from a lunch thief.

Warmest regards,

 Ellen Ostrowski

Administrative Assistant for Dr. Bryan Dancy

 To: bshci.listserv@bshci.com

From: shawna.neill@bshci.com

Date: Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

FOR THE LAST TIME I DID NOT STEAL YOUR LUNCH!

 A groan escaped Frederick’s lips. How could this have happened? He wasn’t a tech genius, but he kept au courant with the latest gadgets and even implemented smart technology throughout his house. Of course, there had been small mishaps in the past, like when his iPhone autocorrected his last name to ‘Chicken’ and he couldn’t stop it, but nothing of this magnitude. As much as he wanted to blame his snarky colleagues for his misery, he had only himself to blame.

His iPhone was right: he was a chicken.

Frederick was in the middle of researching jobs in Austria, the dramatic part of his brain having overpowered the rational part, when your name appeared in his inbox. His eyes flicked to the now empty glass of brandy on his right before clicking on your reply.

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Inquiry

I would love to, Frederick. How about Friday?

-Your Elizabeth Bennet

P.S. Judith, no need to get HR involved

Frederick blinked, not quite believing it. Despite his cowardice, and the mortification which ensued, you’d said yes. A smile slowly spread across his face, unaffected by the multitude of emails flooding his inbox in reaction to your answer.

He was still smiling when the hospital’s servers crashed a few moments later.

Tag list: @madpanda75​ @obsessionprofessional​ @madkingcrowley​ @im-like-reallythirsty​ @burningg-red​ @nikkijmorgan​ @misssirenlove​ @zoeykaytesmom​ @mommakat32​ @thatesqcrush​ @southern-magnolia​ @evee87​

[twstgameplay]

So.... first I would like to thank you all for all these guides, I have started played a few days ago and the guide for beginners just saved me! Haha. Now, my questions are: is there anything useful in the shop for beginners? And I only have Riddle Dorm of my ssr, and uniform Rook is the only healer i have, should I try in the Epel gacha? My team is usually Riddle dorm, azul robe, floyd robe, cater uniform and rook uniform, sometimes Vil uniform.

Welcome to Twisted Wonderland!

There are definitely some useful things in the shop for beginners, but they are not free, so you'll have to save up gems and madol.

First, check out this post on the keys in the shop. You'll see that some are discounted, and you'll want to grab those every month, instead of rolling full price in the gacha. The discounted ones have a small pink banner.

Second, there is a shop (shown below) where you can spend madol in which you can grab an extra copy of any Uniform R card that may be eluding you in the gacha. Especially if you're going through the Beginner's Guide, you'll see when some of them will come in handy.

Third, if you just started a few days ago, you should see an extra shop in which you can spend paid gems to help boost you up: The Start Dash Gem Shop.

Did I just install the game on a different phone just to snag these pictures? Yes I did.

The Start Dash Gem Shop has a Magical Key and AP refill (L) Set for 50 gems cheaper than in the regular gem shop. In addition to sets to help with Card Leveling and Lessons. This store will be in the shop for two weeks after you started the game, so watch the dates!

As a reminder, this store is with paid Gems, so if you decide to spend real money, you can look at our posts on how to do so using Android and iPhone.

Finally, Epel gacha: Epel is the third highest HP card in the game, and when paired with Dorm Rook can cause devastation with their DUO. He'll come in handy as a healer in Defense tests until you get stronger healers. Uniform Rook's heal is much larger.

Once you start battling in Tests, feel free to submit images of your cards and teams (look to previous team composition posts or here for our preferred template) and we can see if we can build you a something geared specifically for the current test session!

- 🐬

[sharperthewriter]

The Engagement Ring Mystery - Chapter 1

From the Desk of Sharper

Hey, everyone. Things have been going slow for me over the last month. But now that I am writing again, I've decided to create a little humorous K/R fluff short story. It's about Kim misplacing her engagement ring in a similar way when Shego did with Drakken in "Proposal from the Inside" but with different circumstances.

The fanfic takes place two years and seven months after the events of Graduation, which would put the timeline at February 2010. Kim and Ron had been engaged for about four weeks at the time of this incident.

The fanfic is rated T for some action violence, some suggestive themes/dialogue, and brief language.

This short story is based on an actual true story.

Kim Possible, characters and settings, is created by Schooley and McCorkle and (c) by Disney. Any OC I create is my own.

"The Engagement Ring Mystery"

Chapter 1 – The Diamond Heist

(February 2010)

Kim and Ron rappelled down onto a high-speed train in Nevada. At this point in their lives, the couple were now engaged after a tumultuous freshman year in which they (briefly) broke up before reuniting back in July of 2009. They were both juniors at Upperton University, Ann Possible's alma mater, at the time.

But now, they were on a mission to retrieve a rare jewel that was stolen recently.

Kim was in the mission outfit that she wore during her senior year in high school and Ron was in his normal mission outfit. Rufus was, of course, still residing in Ron's pocket. The two also had jet packs on their back. Kim also had her engagement ring as well.

"Okay, we're here!" Kim exclaimed

"KP, can you ask Wade to try to repair my jet pack? I think there are a few glitches in it" Ron asked.

Rufus came out of his owner's pocket to nod his head.

"We'll do that after this mission.

"Wade, are you sure the jewel is aboard this train?" she asked on her Kimmunicator wrist model version 2.0.

Wade, now 17, was typing furiously on his computer at his house.

"According to my analysis of the train, the jewel should be on here!" the tech genius replied. "It was stolen from the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History five days ago by Professor Dementor!"

"Then we should be on the right path." Kim replied, "Dementor is so going to jail for a long time!"

Kim and Ron moved forward on the train.

"KP, do you know where our wedding venue should be?" Ron asked.

"I do not know yet, Ron..." came Kim's reply "...but, hello? We're in mission mode!"

"Oh, right, Kim! Eyes on the prize!" Ron exclaimed, now with a determined look on his face. But it didn't last long as he questioned.

"Um, what are we looking for again?"

"The Hope Diamond." Kim explained what they were trying to get back from Dementor. "It is the rarest and most expensive diamond in the world."

"How expensive are we talking about, KP?" Ron asked.

"Just south of a quarter of a billion dollars." Kim replied, "It would definitely not be within your budget."

"Even with the Naco royalties I still get in the mail?" Ron wondered.

"Yep." Kim said before turning her attention to the Kimmunicator. "According to the readings, the diamond should be in one of Dementor's safes."

Then a familiar villainous voice came from behind them.

"Ahh...vell, if it isn't Fraulein Possible und...uhhh...ze buffonish sidekick vhose name continues to elude me."

"Dementor!" Kim exclaimed.

"I have a feeling that he's not alone, KP..." Ron whimpered as he saw Dementor's henchpeople entering in the train.

"The Hope Diamond does not belong to you!" Kim exclaimed as she got in a fighting stance, "It belongs to the Smithsonian Institute!"

"That iz und for mein ultimate laser of doom!" Dementor exclaimed.

"The only thing that you would look ultimate in is an orange prison uniform, Dementor!" Kim shouted.

"Henchpeople! Get Fraulein Possible! And...uhhh...ze young man sidekick...vatever his name is..." Dementor exclaimed, pointing to Team Possible.

Kim removed her gloves.

"KP, I would suggest to you to protect your engagement ring at all costs." Ron suggested.

"Good thinking, Ron!"

Kim then took off her engagement ring as per Ron's suggestion. She took a nearby glass of water and swallowed the ring.

She cracked her knuckles.

"And now...time for Dementor!" Kim exclaimed as she began to charge. Dementor and his henchpeople also began to charge at Kim.

They were about to land punches.

[racebox-of-higgars]

Worth It - Les Mis SPFC

Here’s my entry for the Les Mis Single Prompt fic challenge! This was my first time writing for Les Mis so it was a lot of fun! 

Prompt: Person a gently tilts person b’s head up

Pairing: Enjolras x Grantaire 

Word Count: 2576

Summary: Grantaire takes care of Enjolras after a fight

Warnings: Mild injury description

Grantaire glanced over at his clock, the harsh red letters slowly blinking at him in the black, almost as if they were mocking him. 2:46am. He rolled over, desperately trying to fall asleep, but something kept it from him, it’s elusive arms just out of his reach. A sense of unease had settled in his stomach hours ago, and it kept him tossing and turning, feeling sick to his core. He couldn’t tell what it was, and chose to ignore it, yet it incessantly crawled its way back into the corners of his mind, demanding his attention. It was an unwelcome presence, tugging constantly at his thoughts, and he couldn’t ignore it. 

Finally, he gave up. Sleep was going to elude him for the rest of the night, there was no point in fighting that. Instead, he turned his attention to the unsettled feeling that sunk deep within him, right down into his bones. Something was deeply wrong, he knew that much, but the question was what was wrong? What was wrong and how could he make this stupid feeling go away? It wasn’t like him to be so set in a feeling like this, usually he could just shrug it off and ignore it, but this one couldn’t be shaken, no matter how hard he tried. 

The ceiling swirled above him, slowly coming back into focus through the darkness as he stared up at it, lying starfished on his back. He started up at it for what seemed like hours, puzzling over the unease that shook him from the gentle embrace of sleep every time it was within reach. It only felt like hours though, when in reality it only lasted a few minutes. Again, glanced at the clock, frowning when it only read 2:57am. He groaned, flopping back against his pillow, throwing his forearm over his eyes. He was in for a long night. 

Each flash of the clock out of the corner of his eyes saw the feeling of unease settling deeper and deeper into his stomach, until it was almost unbearable. It ate away at the edges of his mind, until it consumed his every thought, completely taking over. Eventually, it became so powerful that he couldn’t stay in bed any longer. He hauled himself out, slowly shuffling to the kitchen, bleary-eyed as he felt around in the darkness for a mug, and he poured himself a coffee. Coffee at nearly 3am probably wasn’t the best idea, but he wasn’t going to be sleeping anytime soon anyway, so what did it matter? 

A knock at the door shook him from his thoughts. Right. Who the fuck was at his door at 3am? Whoever it was, could kindly fuck off thank you very mu- oh. 

“‘M’sorry,” Enjolras murmured, swaying where he stood. “Didn’t know where else to go.” Carefully, Grantaire ushered him inside, glancing down the hallway outside his apartment before shutting the door behind them. He flicked on the lights, blinking against the sudden brightness. He couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him as he took in Enjolras’ appearance. 

Blood slowly dripped from his nose and his lip was cut open and bleeding. An array of purples, yellows, greens, blacks and blues mottled his porcelain skin and one of his eyes was swollen shut.  A deep cut across his temple spilled blood into his hair, the crimson a stark contrast against the shining gold, that now sparkled with what appeared to be fragments of glass. He swayed steadily from side to side and his eyes were hazy and unfocused. He looked nothing like Enjolras, usually so put together and calm. This was what was wrong. 

Grantaire made his way over to Enjolras, gently taking his chin in one hand and tilting his head up to meet his eyes. 

“Who did this to you?” He whispered. To an outsider, he would appear calm, collected, but there was an underlying anger underneath, indescribably discreet but also fundamentally out of character for Grantaire. He wasn’t an angry person. Blaisé and flippant, sure. Confrontational and hungry for an argument, but there was never any malice to it. It had always been a game, but not now. Now, he almost trembled with the white hot rage that coursed through his veins. He wanted to find out who did this to Enjolras and find them, hurt them, but that wasn’t what Enjolras needed from him right now. Enjolras needed him there. 

“Some guy at a bar,” Enjolras said, voice hoarse. Grantaire pulled out a chair and helped Enjolras to sit. He looked dead on his feet, like he might have collapsed if Grantaire had left him any longer. Grantaire nodded, more to himself than Enjolras. A bar fight? That wasn’t like Enjolras at all. Enjolras would debate until he was red in the face and his throat completely closed up and he couldn’t speak anymore, but things never got physical with him. He would always de-escalate the situation before it reached that point. So what had been different about this time? 

“So, what happened?” Grantaire asked, carefully wiping the blood from the side of Enjolras’ face with a damp washcloth. Enjolras hissed at the contact and instinctively flinched away, but relaxed into it after a moment. 

“Some guy was being an ass in a bar, I called him out, he threw the first hit.” Grantaire frowned. 

“What was he saying?” “Doesn’t matter, does it?” Grantaire fell quiet at that. Enjolras rarely kept things concealed, so if he was avoiding this, he must really not want to speak about it. 

“Alright.” 

Grantaire worked in silence, gently wiping the blood from Enjolras’ face. His hand trembled slightly with the anger that rushed just beneath his skin, but that was to be released another time. He forced it down, he didn’t need it. Not now. When he was done removing the worst of the blood, he held ice over the bruises, hoping to at least ease the pain of them. Enjolras stared up at him, much more focused now than when he had arrived, and Grantaire had a hard time avoiding his steely gaze. 

“Why did you come here?” He eventually asked as he dressed the wound in Enjolras' temple. “Why not ‘Ferre? He’s a doctor, surely he would be better than me.” Enjolras’ eyes flitted around the room, almost as if he was searching for the answer somewhere there. 

“I don’t know,” he said finally. “I guess I just- would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” Grantaire’s breath hitched in his throat. 

“Probably not,” he said with a laugh, and even Enjolras smiled at that. 

“It’s true though, R. I just wanted to see you.” Grantaire nodded, almost afraid that if he tried to speak it would just come out as some wildly unattractive squeak. He couldn’t help but think that there was something else, another reason why Enjolras had chosen him of all people to come to for help, but he wouldn’t press for that now, not while Enjolras was in this state. That could wait until later. 

“I’m done,” Grantaire said finally, when all of Enjolras’ injuries were clean and dressed to the best of his ability. “You’ll have to shower to get the last of the blood out of your hair, but it’s not as much anymore.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras said quietly. “I’ll call a cab-” “No,” Grantaire immediately cut him off. “Stay here, I’ll sleep on the couch.” “Are you sure?” 

“Of course, I don’t want you going home alone like this. It’s okay.” 

“I don’t have any clothes.” 

“Borrow mine, one second.” Grantaire stood and left Enjolras sitting at the dining table, only slightly bewildered. Grantaire flitted around the apartment like a whirlwind until he found a hoodie and sweatpants that would fit Enjolras. 

“Here,” Grantaire said, handing Enjolras the clothes. They smelled like Grantaire. That was the first thing Enjolras registered. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what exactly that was, but it was distinctly and unmistakably him. It was comforting. “You can change in the bathroom.” Enjolras nodded, and made his way down the hall, significantly less unsteady then he had been before. 

While Enjolras was gone, Grantaire made himself busy, tidying away his first aid kit, running a glass of water, and putting the kettle on. Enjolras didn’t have sugar in his tea - milk and honey, instead. He also threw a blanket in the dryer. Anything to keep himself busy. That way he didn’t have to face his anger. Someone had hurt Enjolras, and it made his blood boil. 

Enjolras had always been a peaceful person, quick-witted and silver-tongued, able to talk himself out of any situation. His words always slipped from his lips, able to pacify any situation. His words were one of the most beautiful things about him. They had so much power and intent behind them, and they could build you up, place you on a pedestal at the top of the world, or tear you down until you’re nothing more than a rat in the gutter. They were honey-coated or sharp as a knife, and whichever he chose could impact you for hours, days after they had been spoken. Ever the diplomat, Enjolras hated violence. He always talked his way out of situations, using those beautiful words to avoid any fight. So what had changed this time? That’s what Grantaire kept coming back to. Why couldn’t Enjolras talk his way out of this one?

Grantaire’s clothes were too big on Enjolras. They hung off his body, almost like a blanket, but they were warm and comfy and they smelled like home. He wrapped the hoodie tightly around himself, closing his eyes for a moment as he sat down on the edge of the bathtub, head in his hands. His head pounded, a dull, throbbing ache just behind his eyes that would not go away. It had been worth it though. 

Okay, so maybe he had lied to Grantaire when he had said the other guy had thrown the first punch. And about why. How bad was a little white lie, really? Right, it was probably very stupid, but how was he supposed to tell Grantaire that he had punched someone in the jaw because they had been talking shit about R? That wasn’t something he was just going to admit, because that would open up the floodgates to a million other discussions that he didn’t want to have. There would be hundreds of questions with answers that he just couldn’t articulate. Enjolras was way out of his depth when it came to Grantaire, and the way he felt about him. He could talk his way through any situation, except this one, because there were no right words for it. So instead, he stayed silent for what might be the first time in his life, because he and Grantaire were a million worlds apart, really. Sure, he had shown him kindness on this one occasion, but it wasn’t like Enjolras had given him much of a choice. Within a week they would be back at each other’s throats, surely. That’s just how they worked. But for now, wrapped up in Grantaire’s hoodie, he could pretend that maybe things were different. 

Grantaire looked up from the mug of tea as he heard Enjolras padding back down the hallway. 

“I made tea,” he said, holding up the mug. “Also I have water and painkillers if you want them too.” Enjolras nodded with a grateful smile as he took the painkillers, then took the mug of tea from Grantaire. 

“You remembered how I have it?” He asked. 

“Of course I do,” Grantaire answered with a warm smile. He had memorised everything that Enjolras liked, from how he had his tea to his favourite clothing brand. All of it was stored away in some corner of his mind, until he needed it in times like these. 

They drank their tea in silence. After a while, Enjolras’ eyelids began to droop. Grantaire took the blankets out of the dryer, folding them neatly in his arms. 

“Come on, it’s late,” he said. Enjolras just nodded vaguely as Grantaire helped him to his feet and led him down the hallway to his room. “I’m sorry it’s a mess, I wasn’t expecting anyone.” “It’s okay,” Enjolras mumbled. Grantaire helped him into bed, tucking the blanket around his shoulders. 

“Get some sleep, you’ll need it.” Enjolras hummed, nestling further into the blankets. “Goodnight Enjolras.” Grantaire turned to try to get some sleep on the couch, when Enjolras’ voice made him turn. 

“R?” 

“Yeah?” “Stay, please?” Grantaire faltered for a moment, glancing between Enjolras, then down the hallway, then back at Enjolras. Carefully, he clambered into the bed beside Enjolras, and immediately Enjolras wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Do you mind?” Enjolras asked, looking up at him. 

“No, it’s fine.” Enjolras nodded again, resting his head on Grantaire’s chest. 

Silence stretched for a million miles between them, and Grantaire was just beginning to think Enjolras had fallen asleep, when he spoke. 

“I lied,” he said simply, barely above a whisper. 

“About what?” 

“The fight. How it started. Who started it?” Grantaire looked down at Enjolras, brow furrowed in concern. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean I started the fight. I threw the first punch.” Enjolras didn’t look at Grantaire, but Grantaire felt his grip on him tighten just slightly. Grantaire was perplexed. That was so out of character for Enjolras. It felt wrong.

“Why?” He asked simply. 

“He was- he said some really homophobic and downright cruel things about you. I couldn’t let that slide.” Enjolras’ heart rate quickened. This was verging on dangerous territory. 

“But now you’re hurt.” 

“I wasn’t just going to let him say that about you!” Enjolras cried, suddenly sitting up, despite the way it made his head reel. 

“Why not? People say it all the time, it’s nothing new.” Enjolras’ face fell. He hadn’t known that. 

“I’m sorry. I hate that you, and other people have to deal with that.” 

“It’s alright, you don’t need to apologise for other people being shitty.” 

“I wish things were easier for us.” Enjolras’ voice had lowered to only slightly louder than a whisper again. 

“Me too.” Enjolras looked up at Grantaire, meeting his eyes. Then, he did what was quite possibly one of the most stupid things of his life. 

He kissed Grantaire. 

It was brief, he pulled away before it could get heated, but it was soft and magical all the same. Grantaire looked at him for a moment, utterly shellshocked, before wrapping him in his arms tightly and pulling him against his chest. He pressed a gentle kiss to Enjolras’ hair, running a hand through it. 

“Are we-” Enjolras started, but Grantaire cut him off. 

“We’ll talk about it in the morning. But now it’s-” he paused to check the clock, “-4:28am, and I want to get some sleep, and you’re gonna need it too.” Enjolras nodded. Grantaire hadn’t run, and that meant things were okay, surely. Grantaire titled Enjolras’ head up, pressed a quick, gentle kiss to his lips. It was barely there, but enough for Enjolras to know that everything would be alright. 

As he laid in Grantaire’s arms, listening to the steady beat of his heart and watching the slow rise and fall of his chest, Enjolras’ regret dissipated. If he got to have this, it had all been worth it.

Thanks for reading!

@lesmissamepromptficchallenge 

[bookshelf-imagines]

Scarred

Pairing/Fandom: Wanda Maximoff x Fem! Stark Child! Reader

Summary: Wanda discovers something about R

Warnings: Cursing, implied self harm

Notes: Milyj - love

You were scrolling through your feed on Pinterest when your dad had called you to the common room to talk to you. However, about what eluded you. If you had known what was going to be said, you would've stayed in the darkness of your room snuggled up in a cozy blanket looking at pictures of cats, trying to be at least a little bit happy. You were an Avenger, yes, and a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, but you typically avoided the others when you were at the compound. All except one.

Wanda Maximoff: Avenger, telepath, curvy...and the only one that made you smile. Whenever you thought of her (which was a lot) a smile graced your features and a blush dusted your cheeks. Thinking of her made you giddy and it only got worse in person. But...she would never see you the same way. Who in their right mind would like you? Not even that, what woman in their right mind would like girls? It was just wrong.

You were shaken from your thoughts when a familiar A.I. made their presence known in your room. You tried hiding the blush on your cheeks but to no avail, only succeeding in making it worse.

"Miss (Y/n), your father wishes to see you." FRIDAY notified and you immediately went to where he was. If only you had known, you wouldn't have gone. Fifteen minutes later and you're in tears. Not because of what you were talking about, but because he makes you so angry.

"No! It won't work anyway, dad!" You said with a storm brewing in your eyes awaiting its time to be unleashed.

"Just try it out, (Y/n). If you don't like it, then you can drop out!" Your father reassured more himself than you at that point, and you gave up.

"I said no!" You stormed out of the room, finally letting the tears flow. With blurry vision, you didn't exactly know where you were going and bumped into someone. You mumbled a quick apology and sped up but were stopped in your tracks when a hand gently grabbed your arm, causing your thin sleeves to pull up and elicit a gasp from your captor. A gasp you had not know the reason to until you turned around.

"I-I said I'm sorry, please just-" You turned around and came face to face with the green-eyed beauty you'd been crushing on for years...staring at the scars that littered your arm.

"(Y/n)..." She knew your name? That's a first.

You attempted to rip your arm from her grasp but your efforts were proved futile when Wanda tugged you toward her room, guiding and not pulling, with compassion. Once the door was closed, she muted all of your protests when you were embraced with the most heart-warming hug you had ever felt. It took a few moments, but your arms circled her waist and you hugged back tightly, crying into her shoulder.

"Please don't cry, milyj." She whispered, stroking your hair softly. After a few minutes, you calmed down and were reduced to sniffling. You pulled back and smiled when you finally saw her clearly. Her hands were on your shoulders as you were wiping your eyes and a small smile graced her features. But when the clock kept ticking, you began to panic. What were you going to say? You were in her room, for crying out loud! And speaking of crying, you just cried in front of her! You got her shirt wet too; you're disgusting. "You aren't disgusting." She said and you looked up at her again, startled. You forgot she could read minds. "And I don't have to if you don't want me to. I-I know it's an invasion of privacy, but I just...wanted to see if I could help."

You shook your head and took a step back, causing her to move her hands and drop her arms to her sides. "It's alright." You sniffled, "I'm okay, but thank you for the hug. I um..." You were rubbing your forearms and fussing with the ends of your sleeves, searching for the right words to say. "I needed it. So, thank you." You finished, still staring at the ground.

"Of course." She said. "And...if you ever need someone to talk to, about...that, you know where to find me. I'll listen for however long you want."

You scoffed, thinking how you being a depressed, self-harming, Pinterest-stalking lesbian could be friends with someone so...angelic. It was wrong. You looked up and were about to respond when you saw the expression on her face: her brows were slightly furrowed and the smile had faded. You immediately started to panic again and your heart rate sped up, causing you to itch at your palms again.

"You're...gay?"

You gulped. This was the end of you.

Then she laughed once, then again, and burst into a fit of laughter. "It looks like we already have one thing in common, then, (Y/n)."

"Wait, what?" You sounded absolutely flabbergasted when those two words came out. She was a lesbian. Wanda was a lesbian. And she's telling you.

"Well, four years ago, I met this wonderful woman and...I've never had the courage to talk to her until now. Specifically because I wanted to comfort her, but this sort of turned into me trying not to scare her away and organize my thoughts on how to tell her-"

"You're a lesbian? What the fuck?" You rubbed your temples and facepalmed. Years of pining after a girl you thought you could never have and...wait. You still can't have her. She's talking about a girl right now and, well, it wasn't you.

She looked utterly confused but answered with a nod. "Um, she-"

"You like girls? Like, genuinely like them? You would date one?" You asked, shotgunning questions you deemed vital to your research but knew that the answers would devastate you. They did not.

"Yes, yes, yes. I was actually hoping-"

"And you like one right now? I-Is she pretty? You should ask her out!" You went from loathsome of yourself to encouraging to someone else. Being bipolar was truly a curse. Or was it being a woman? Or both? You'd never figure that one out.

Wanda was trying to keep up with you, but just sort of grunted out a high pitched noise and threw her head back before taking a step forward, placing her hands on your nape and crashing her lips onto yours. You released a squeak at the sudden contact but after a few seconds you realized how good it felt. Your eyes fluttered close and your hands melded with the curves of her body. You relished in the feeling of being held by Wanda, knowing you'll wake up after she pulls away. It's the same dream every time. This one was just lasting slightly longer. Her lips went from rough to sweet and gentle, like she was telling you everything she felt with a kiss. Only you were too dumb to realize it. When she pulled back, you made a small noise of discontent and looked up at her; she was still there. Why weren't you waking up?

"Because it's not a dream, (Y/n)." She gazed into your (e/c) eyes and smirked. "And I think I will ask her out. So, (Y/n), would you like to go on a date with me?"

You blinked once.

You blinked twice.

Your hands were still on her waist, hers slipped onto your shoulders. You stared and stared but found no trace of pity or humor in her eyes. Finally convincing yourself it isn't a dream, you took the reins and leaned in, kissing her again to confirm that everything was indeed real. Wanda was surprised but kissed you back eagerly, hoping that you will say yes if you're kissing her again. When you pulled back, your heart skipped a beat. Her eyes were hooded and a smirk appeared on her face when you looked at her lips again, biting it in the process. You gulped and focused back on her eyes.

"Yes. I think I'd like that very much, Wanda."

[petri808]

Paid By the Heart

Bakudeku, A!Bakugou/O!quirkless Midoriya.  Growing up Midoriya was picked on and bullied, harassed by the other sexes. In desperation he turns to the only Alpha he knows, begging for help. They reach a deal for the little Omega to use the Alpha's scent to keep the other's at bay... but was that really a good idea? Intermingling their scents for years had a consequence that left them only one option.

The life of a quirkless person in their world was a sad one, but couple that with being a small Omega; double whammy. Ever since that fateful doctors visit informing his mother, he’d never have a quirk, Midoriya Izuku was shunned at school, even bullied for being a small, gangly nerd. He was easy pickings and there was nothing he could do about it.

By the time he’d hit middle school, life was a lonely existence for the young man. His solace was in books or chronicling the exploits of his favorite hero All Might. For outside of that little bubble, pain and frustration was the norm. If only he’d been born an Alpha or at least a Beta, maybe then he’d gain a small measure of respect, quirkless or not. But no, the universe decided, he was to be an Omega, the lowest of the ranks. Could things get any worse?

The answer was yes. When he wasn’t being bullied, he was being harassed. Horny teen Alpha’s really were a bane of his existence. This lot didn’t care who or what he was, only interested in the scent he gave off. At least going into heat was still a few years away, because that could lead to bigger problems.

Sometimes things got so bad in school, Midoriya would hide in teachers classes or the nurses room until finally one called his mother about it and she promptly put him on scent inhibitors. He’d been too embarrassed to tell her what was going on. At least now he gained a small reprieve, but that didn’t stop the bullying. What could he do?

Midoriya racked his brain to come up with a solution, including quitting school altogether. Not ideal, no, considering learning was one of the few things he actually did enjoy. That’s when he realized, if only he had someone to protect him. Like a bodyguard. But who would be willing to help a small omega? He didn’t have any real friends that were Alpha’s or at least bigger Omega’s. Though he did know one Alpha…

Nah, Bakugou would never willingly help him. Despite growing up around each other, once he was deemed quirkless, the boy shunned him completely. They were complete opposites in personality; him being shy and Bakugou a bastion of anger.

No one dared to mess with Bakugou Katsuki, least get an explosion to the face.

But desperate times, called for desperate measures and Midoriya was tired of the split lips, black eyes, or torn clothing. He didn’t want to be shoved and messed with anymore and the one Alpha, despite their rocky relationship, who didn’t pick on him physically, was Bakugou. So, one day after school and a particularly egregious fight, Midoriya waited at the foot of the staircase of their apartment building. He lived on one floor and the blonde Alpha lived on another. As he waited, thoughts of what he should say worked their way through this analytical mind.

The man wasn’t going to do this willingly, that was a given. Bakugou’s main focus in life has always been power. To get to the top someday as a hero like their idol All Might. Maybe that’s a potential answer, play to the man’s desire to protect. Frankly, Midoriya wasn’t sure if it would work, but he had an alternative. He’ll pay the man to be his bodyguard. Not that he could afford much, but if it took getting a part time job or something, it beat getting assaulted.

He stands up from the step the moment he smells the Alpha coming. ‘Breathe, Izuku, stay calm…’

“Outta my way nerd!”

Midoriya swallows hard, fidgeting with his fingers nervously. “K-Kacchan, I need to talk to you— ask you a-about something.”

“The answer’s no.” The man starts to push past the smaller male. But Midoriya grabs his arm to stop him. He whips around, grabbing the hand on his arm and throwing it off. “Do you have a death wish?!”

“Please, Kacchan!” Midoriya grovels with tears streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t take all the bullying anymore.”

Bakugou narrows his eyes. “Nothing I can help you with nerd, now get out of my way before I do hurt you.”

Midoriya drops to his knees with his head hung down. “Kacchan…” He looks up now with sullen eyes, sad and forlorn. “I-I—will you please protect me?!”

“Argh!!!” Bakugou growls. This stupid Omegas scent was filled with such desperation it was rattling his senses! “Deku what the fuck makes you think I’d help you?!”

His shoulders slump further. “I know you have no incentive to help me. I’m just a worthless quirkless Omega. But I’m desperate Kacchan. I have no one else to turn to and I’m willing to pay with whatever I can afford.”

“I don’t want your money idiot.”

“Please! I’ll do anything!”

Fuck!! No matter how much the little freckle-faced mouse irritated him, he could never lash out except with words. Bakugou knew exactly why the man was so desperate, saw him picked on by the other sexes. The fresh cut above the man’s eye and torn shirt was evidence enough, but laying a hand on Midoriya, he just couldn’t do it. Plus, he believed his mother would kill him.

“Ugh!” He groans and snaps. “Fine! But you are gonna pay somehow. You’ll cover my lunches at school for starters and… I don’t fucking know, but I’ll think of something. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Oh, thank you Kacchan!” In his elation, Midoriya jumps onto and hugs the larger male, snuggling his face into the man’s neck.

A flush of heat colors Bakugou’s cheeks. “Oi! Oi!” He peels the man off. “Get the fuck off me nerd!” Too close! Too close! Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Midoriya’s earthy scent pleased his inner Alpha and in his happiness that scent exploded.

“S-Sorry, Sorry!” He bows and takes a step back. “Thank you, you saved my life Kacchan.”

“I still don’t know what the fuck you want.” He crosses his arms. “I ain’t just gonna beat people up for you unless I really need to.”

Midoriya’s eyes widen and he waves his hands, “no, I wouldn’t ask you to! I hope that just being around you, or,” his face heats up, “like your presence and scent on me will deter them. And eventually they’ll just stay away out of fear.”

Unlike a lot of the Alphas their age, Bakugou had no desire to engage in primally driven acts. In fact, those types pissed him off too. Just mindless idiots as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t about to let stupid mating instincts distract him from his goals. “So basically, a fake relationship?” His lack of giving a damn about such trivial matters made it easy for him not to care. “As long as I don’t gotta be affectionate and shit.”

“R-Right!” Just the thought of intimacy made Midoriya bloom red. “Yes, nothing like that. Just the illusion of being your property.”

“Ha! I kinda like the sound of that!” Bakugou finally smiles, though more like an evil smirk. “You’ll be my bitch from now on!”

And so that’s how it was for the next few years. Each morning before school, the Omega would swipe a bit of sweat off the Alpha and rubbed it on himself. With the man’s scent on him, all the other Alphas and bullies stayed clear. They never eluded to any relationship, barely even hung out together, but everyone was too afraid to question it. Midoriya quietly went through the school days and for the first time in a very long time, he could finally relax. Even though his life was still lonely.

Once they finished middle school, Bakugou moved on to the prestigious UA Academy for pro heroes in training, while Deku managed to get into their Support program. Turns out his passion for learning and analytics was a skill he could trade on. Since they’d be at the same school, they could keep up the same rouse. Not that Bakugou seemed to care. Though the trade off for his part of the deal had perks with the Omega still footing any request he made.

Things continued unabated for the first two years of high school and Bakugou didn’t pay attention to the subtle changes taking place. Midoriya still dutifully came for his scent every morning before class. The Omega continued to pay for his services. But he failed to notice a change in the Omega’s scent. Where once the smaller male reeked of sadness, now there were hints of elation. The man smiled brighter and even had a bounce to his step. Midoriya was blossoming in the Support program. He had friends to call his own and Bakugou couldn’t be more thrilled the guy wasn’t trying to hang around him anymore.

It wasn’t until the third year was halfway through when the changes became glaringly noticeable. Midoriya continued to pay, but gathering his scent had grown from sporadic to nonexistent. Perhaps he wasn’t in need of Bakugou’s help anymore? No one was bullying him, on the contrary, the Omega was a top student in his program who’d gained the respect of his peers.

Bakugou corners the man outside one day between the dorm buildings. “Oi, Deku, what’s the deal? You don’t need me anymore?” He refused to admit it bothered him to not be needed.

“What do you mean?”

“You keep paying me, but never come for my scent.”

“Oh… well, you see, now that I’ve found my place here, it’s, um, hurting my reputation that I smell like an Alpha. I still pay because I do appreciate everything you did for me Kaachan.”

“What the fuck? You getting all horny now, looking for action but nobody giving you that kind of attention?”

“What?! N-No!” He waves his hands desperate to wipe the statement away. “That’s not it, I’m not looking for that! I’m even on Heat blockers. It’s just, the Alpha’s they treat me differently. They’ll talk to me like they respect me but always at an arms distance and it’s frustrating. Even after a few months without your scent on me, they still keep a distance.”

It was driving Midoriya crazy! So, he started to question, what will happen when he does want to be courted by an Alpha?! What helped in his youth now backfired and the plans were blowing up in his face. The reputation of Bakugou having staked his claim years ago on the Omega would make finding a partner almost impossible unless he could find a way to distance himself. Who in their right mind would dare touch the Lord of Explosions chosen mate?!

“I hope once we graduate and go our separate ways, people will finally realize we’re not together.” Midoriya was sure that once the blonde settled into pro hero life, he’d start dating as well, and that’ll take the heat of his back.

“Tch, well I’m not a charity case, so stop paying me if you ain’t getting a benefit out of it. Guess that’s it.” Bakugou’s turns his back to the man and starts walking away. He tips two fingers, “see ya around nerd!”

Huh? Well that went easier than he’d expected it to. All this time avoiding the conversation only for Bakugou to have no real reaction. Guess this really was just a business transaction for the Alpha. Midoriya shrugs, so be it, and continues on his way.

Unfortunately, things weren’t all that it appeared to be for the Alpha. After walking away from the Omega, a dull pain centered in his chest making it a little hard to breathe. But not wanting to show weakness, Bakugou ignored it and continued to strut back to his dorm room. Perhaps he’d overexerted himself again in the gym.

It’s a pain that started a couple of months ago that came and went, that he equated as simply working too hard. His muscles are still adjusting to the heavy schoolwork on top of the skirmishes the students got pulled into. That had to be the answer, for what else could it be? But after a week of the pain not letting up, Bakugou finally relented and consulted the nurse.

“Well,” the nurse, Recovery Girl sits back on her stool. “Don’t know what to tell ya, cause they ain’t nothin physically wrong with you that I can find. But if you think it’s muscle related, ease up on your workouts and take magnesium supplements.”

“The fuck you sayin old hag?! I can’t stop exercising. My quirk demands a topnotch body!”

She shrugs her shoulders, used to the hotheaded Alpha by now. “Then just learn to live with the pain. It’s not uncommon from pro heroes to suffer from pain, especially those with strong quirks like you have. You’re kinda young, but with how hard you push yourself, it’s inevitable.”

“Argh!” Bakugou storms out of the room. Fucking useless old bat! Two months away from graduation and being told he’s already developing, what, an old person’s problem?! “Fucking hell!” This is bullshit!

He flies it out of the room so quickly, that when he rounds a corner in the hallway, runs smack into a body. “Get the fuck outta my way!!”

“Kacchan?! Oh my god, sorry I didn’t see you coming!”

The world stops cold. “Deku…” suddenly the pain in his chest lessens as the calming scent of the concerned Omega wraps around his body. Bakugou’s eyes flash wide. “Oh, fuck no!” Quick like a bolt of lightning, the Alpha races away leaving the shocked and confused Omega standing there alone calling after him. Bakugou grits his teeth as he beelines it back to his dorm room. ‘It’s just a coincidence!’

“What was that all about?” Midoriya mumbles under his breath. It was the first time he’s seen the Alpha look, scared? No way, the Omega dismisses the notion. Bakugou wasn’t afraid of anything. He must have just been surprised to see him.

He continues on to the lab where he’s close to finishing a new project. The Alpha, Shouto Todoroki, requested a better cooling material for his suit. The pro needed something that insulated the cold from his quirk for a longer lasting effect. That way Hellfire would also be more sustainable.

It was a major nod to the Omega considering the man was up and up against Bakugou in terms of power. Currently, they were the top two pro students and Alpha’s of UA. Plus, Todoroki was not only cute but the complete opposite of Bakugou in personality. He was always kind to the Omega. Not that anything was going on between them! But the minor attention was exactly what triggered him to back away from his old friend.

From that moment in the hallway on, every time Midoriya came into contact with Bakugou, the Alpha turned heel and avoided any interactions. He couldn’t lie that it didn’t hurt just a little. They’d never been the closest friends, but it was as if the blonde was angry with him and that bothered him because he couldn’t understand why? But he also wasn’t gutsy enough to question the man either. Did turning down his scent hurt Bakugou’s pride or ego? Frankly, that would not be surprising.

The day of their graduation was a whirlwind of activity. The stadium packed just like the Sport event; even a similar turn out. Family and friends were there to celebrate, pro’s and companies were there to recruit. First the Support class, then the General studies, and lastly the Heroes courses all went up and received their diplomas. After the ceremony, the students were sent to designated spots to meet with their families and friends first. From there they could venture around to see other people.

“Thanks mom,” Midoriya hugs the crying woman for the umpteenth time that afternoon.

“I’m just so proud of you son!”

A tap on his shoulder cuts into the tender moment. “Forgive me for intruding Mrs. Midoriya. My father would like to meet your son.”

The pair’s eyes widen as the Number One hero stood in front of them. He was such an imposing figure!

“N-Nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor!” Midoriya bows.

“My son tells me you were able to create a better suit for him.”

Midoriya looks to his friend then back to the man. “Yes, sir I did.”

“Good. Perhaps you’ll be very useful in the future.” Endeavor nods his head and simply walks away without another word.

“D-Did he just?!”

“My father would like me to bring you by the agency next week for an interview.”

“Oh, wow really?!”

“Yes,” Todoroki chuckles.

“I’ll leave you two to discuss things,” Mrs. Midoriya cuts in. “It was nice to meet you Todoroki.”

After the goodbyes, the two men continue discussing the interview. Things like what he should bring, how he should dress, and what time to arrive. Midoriya had assumed Endeavor contracted out support work, but it turns out they have in-house staff.

“There is one last thing I would like to discuss.” The Alpha takes hold of the Omegas hand. “You see I’ve grown quite fond of you,” he leans down, sniffing at the scent gland of the smaller males neck. “Your scent…” his voice grows soft like a purr, “I wish to court you properly Midoriya Izuku.”

“W-What?”

“WHAT!?!!”

The feral growl behind him causes Midoriya to flinch. Before he can register just what the hell was going on, he was pushed back and a second Alpha stood between him and Todoroki.

“K-Kacchan?!” He grabs the man’s arm. “Kacchan what are you doing?!”

But the larger male simply grabs hold of him and pushes him back again, all while staring down the other Alpha.

“This mouse is taken,” Bakugou growls low and narrows his eyes, challenging Todoroki.

Todoroki glares back unflinching. “You don’t care about him, only took his money for protection. That doesn’t make him yours Katsuki.”

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!”

“You don’t,” the man grins. “Three years I watched from a distance. How he’d sneak into the dorms in the morning, pay for your lunch in the cafeteria, and for what? We could smell you on him yet not once did you two ever hang out with each other.”

“S-So what! That doesn’t mean I don’t care about him! I took the protector role to fucking protect him!”

Todoroki scoffs, “I bided my time and once the daily visits ended, I started making my move. Not once did you ever stop us because you ran away from him! Stupid fool, how dare you decide to claim him now!”

Bakugou lowers his head just slightly, fists clench, and tiny explosions going off in his palms. “Fucking icyhot bastard. You don’t know what I’m feeling. Think I don’t know I fucked up when I shoulda faced the music sooner.” He stares straight up. “But I do know now, Deku’s mine! Hear me?! Mine!! And I am not fucking giving up my mate to you or any other bastard!”

The blonde pulls Midoriya forward, hands gripped to his arms. “Tell him Deku! Tell him you’re mine!”

“But am I? You’ve never shown any interest in me before Kacchan. Todoroki has helped me so much and now because of him, I’ll be interviewing for Endeavors support staff. Yes, your scent protected me from bullies, but I thought it was always just a business transaction.”

“N-no!” Bakugou staggers back clutching to his chest as the pain swiftly doubles. This can’t be happening! “You can’t pick him over me Deku!” The sting of rejection was worse than a villain breaking every bone in his body. He cries out and drops to the ground in a fetal position as the pain rips through his chest and knocks the wind out of him. “Fuck it hurts!” It was too excruciating, so much so, his body was slipping out of consciousness in response.

“Kacchan?!” Midoriya falls to his knees too and grabs the man, shaking him. “Kacchan, what’s wrong with you?!” He felt helpless as the man’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“Wow Katsuki… you really do love Midoriya.”

The Omega looks up at Todoroki. “How do you know that?!”

Todoroki points at Bakugou. “If an Alpha covets an Omega but is rebuffed, they are stricken with illness. It only happens when we truly love someone.”

“S-So if I turn you down, you’ll get sick too?!” Why is this whole love stuff so cruel?! This was not what he’d expected to happen! Tears gather in his eyes. “That wasn’t part of the plan. I-I just wanted to know what he really thought about me.”

“Fret not,” Todoroki smiles at him. “You’re cute, but I’m not in love with you. But now that you have your answer, my role is done. I’ll see you at the interview next week,” he winks and walks away to find his girlfriend.

“O-Okay, thank you Todoroki!” Midoriya turns back to the comatose man by his side and continues shaking him. “Kacchan! Please wake up! I’m here! I’m not going anywhere! Just wake up!”

A small crowd gathered around them, but he didn’t care, too concerned with Bakugou’s condition. Had he known an Alpha could suffer like this, he never would have attempted this little rouse. Todoroki was the one who suggested it, but neither of them could have known the blonde had fallen so deeply in love.

With the help of Bakugou’s teacher, Shota Aizawa and another staff member who came on the scene, they take the unconscious Alpha to the infirmary. They place him on one of the beds where Recover Girl checks him over. The man was out cold, but his vitals were steady.

Midoriya takes a seat by the bedside, clutching to his friends hand. It’s been an hour since they’d arrived and according to the nurse, it was now a waiting game. “Please,” the Omega squeezes the Alpha’s hand, “come back to me Kacchan…” He closes his eyes to rest them, laying his head against the man’s arm. He was so emotionally exhausted from the ordeal of the day, but he’s not moving until the man wakes up. Six years and never once he allowed himself to hope, until now.

“Mmmm,” Midoriya stirs at the feeling of fingers treading softly through his hair. “That feels so nice,” he purrs to the familiar scent of burnt sugar he’d come to know so well. It wrapped around, calming, calling the Omega out of his dream.  

Wait! Burnt sugar?! He pops up immediately, “Kacchan?!” Scrambling onto the bed and swaddling the Alpha. “I was so worried,” Midoriya buries his face in the man’s neck. “Why didn’t you just tell me?!” He sniffles.

Bakugou wraps his arms around the man, leaning his head against his and relishing in the contented tones exuding from the Omega’s scent. “I’m up now, so stop crying Deku.” He sighs, “and I didn’t tell you cause I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot.”

“Yes,” he lifts Midoriya’s face, fixing his eyes in a stare, “I am. All because I didn’t want to admit I was weak for you.”

“So, you really mean it? That you want me to be your mate even though I’m quirkless?”

“Did I fucking stutter? But guess what Deku?”

“What?”

The Alpha kisses him roughly, nipping his lip before pulling away, “I’m claiming my final payment.”

“Oh!” Midoriya giggles, “what’s the payment?”

“You.”

~~~XX~~~

Just because they finally figured things out, didn’t mean either of them wanted to rush into a relationship. It was simply satisfying to know they wanted to be with each other. And for that reason, Midoriya continued to use heat blockers as a birth control, just like he’d done for the last several years.

The Omega respected the fact Bakugou focused on having a good career in the pro hero world. His ambitions to reach the top given a whole new incentive in order to provide for a family one day. But the Alpha was proud of his betrothed’s advances as well. After high school, the up and coming Support technician proved his worth for the Endeavor agency while he himself worked as a side kick to the head man himself.

Bakugou dreamed of one day owning his own agency, but until then, he pushed himself hard under the constant tutelage of the number one hero. They were both paid well at their jobs, and continued to maintain separate homes… for now. The blondes excuse being he would court Midoriya properly this time around.

Except when it came to sex. That part of their relationship was consummated two nights after graduation. In a protected knotting, they marked each other and staked their claims for all to see. Bakugou  had been pleasantly surprised to find the shy, docile man was quite rambunctious in bed. But contrary to popular belief, it was closer to a vanilla encounter.

Both of them had been too excited and also nervous being a first time for either of them. Having been Midoriya’s protector for so long, the Alpha was almost terrified of hurting the smaller Omega and it took gentle coaxing to allay those fears. But in the end they’d been left satisfied and fully affirmed in their decision to spend the rest of their lives together.

Once the workload kicked in, any free time they had were spent together at one or the others apartment. Bakugou would take Midoriya out on dates, to dinners, movies, or anywhere the man fancied though it was rarely a lavish affair. The Omega preferred the quieter moments such as lounging on the couch and cuddling during a movie.

This went on for two years as the Alpha slowly built up a savings. He knew it would be several years before he could buy a bigger house, but soon enough he was ready to afford a 2 bedroom apartment in a nice area of town. So, he made up an excuse to stay with Midoriya while he moved into the new place, furnished, and prepared it to accept a mate.

“Perfect!” The blonde stands with his hands on his hips admiring his handiwork. Everything his Omega will need was purchased and set up in what will be their new nest. He’d spared no expense on a top of the line, plush, memory foam bedding. Extra blankets, pillows, you name it, Bakugou bought it. And last but not least, he scented all the fabrics with his musk. All that remained was surprising Midoriya.

He timed the reveal for the last week of the month, explaining his apartment was ready again and he wanted Midoriya to see the changes.

“Where are we going? This isn’t the direction of your place.”

“It’s the direction to my new place.”

“Kacchan, you moved apartments without telling me?”

He kisses the back of the Omegas hand, “well a surprise isn’t a surprise if I told you about it.”

When the elevator opens, Bakugou leads him to one of the apartments. He opens the door and gestures for the man to enter. “Welcome to your new home Izuku.”

“Huh? My, but I have an apartment…” the Omega gasps when he turns and finds his Alpha on one knee. “K-Kacchan,” his hands fly up in shock and face lights up.

“It’s time to officially cash in my payment chip,” the blonde grins, holding up a ring. “Izuku Midoriya, will you be my life mate?”

Moisture instantly builds in the Omegas eyes, “yes! Yes!” His hands shaky as the Alpha slips the ring onto his finger.

Bakugou gets to his feet and kisses the man slow and steady. He takes Midoriya’s hand. “There’s one thing I really wanna show you, then we’ll go pack up your apartment.”

“Oh my goodness!” The omega squeals at the site of his beautiful new nest and throws himself onto his Alpha, hugging and kissing the man. “Kacchan, you spoil me!”

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he smiles back. “Test it out.”

Midoriya dives onto the bed and bundles the blankets to his nose. It smelled like Bakugou! He closes his eyes with a moan, taking it all in and burying his face into the fabric. The Alpha laughs at how childlike his mate was behaving, but that was Midoriya for you. Just a ray of sunshine who wore his emotions on his sleeve.

While the Omega relishes in his new surroundings, Bakugou just stands back in admiration. To the outside world the pro Alpha hero was a temperamental hothead who took shit from no one. But those in the know, knew Midoriya had him wrapped around his finger.

The Omega never took advantage or made it feel like an obligation. Bakugou just came to realize he could be himself with the man. No keeping secrets or holding back. Their long history delving back almost two decades meant Midoriya knew him well and he Midoriya. This little mouse could calm him down without his Omega pheromones. But boy does those scents drive him wild too!

Just picturing his freckle faced cherub cuddled in his arms with a child between them sent a delectable shiver racing straight to his groin. Bakugou chuckles in his head, probably why the man was smart enough to stay on the birth control, because he knew without it they’d have already started a family before they were ready.

“Join me— Kacchan!” Hands reach out, beckoning him to the bed.

The Alpha grins and plops down close, pulling the Omega to him. He kisses Midoriya’s forehead. “I take it you’re happy?”

“Of course!” The man nestles deeper into his Alphas arms, resting his head against his chest. “But I’d be happy anywhere as long as I have you with me.”

Bakugou relishes in the euphoric scent his mate was giving off. It made his inner Alpha preen with pride. “Never in my life have I wanted a family more than I do in this moment. And I don’t care if they have quirks, are quirkless, as long as they’re healthy, and they’re ours.”

“Mmm, our own family…” child Midoriya’s dreams could never have predicted the life he ended up with. “Sometimes I pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“Did I ever tell you thank you for pulling that stunt at graduation?”

Midoriya sits up, hesitant, his scent immediately registering anxiety. “No.” Why is he bringing that up now?

But Bakugou counters with calming Alpha pheromones as he pulls his mate back into his arms. “I still can’t stand the smug bastard, but I’m glad icyhot helped you help me get outta my own head or I wouldn’t have this life.”

“You had me so panicked Kacchan! I thought I’d killed you or something.”

“Pfft, I’m tougher then that.” He kisses Midoriya’s forehead, sweeping his thumb lovingly over and caressing the Omega’s cheek with a grin, “but I think in the end I really got the better part of the deal.”

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.

Would love too see what you will write them as ^^

@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD

I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.

Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?

Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:

Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.

The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.

So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:

fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence

Okay I’m joking… mostly…

In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:

Elsa’s name

Her upbringing

Her duty as queen, and

Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character

Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”

Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.

God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.

Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.

Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.

And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.

Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.

Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.

Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.

Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.

[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!

Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required

[belovedrival]

“Where sky and water meet...to find all you seek...”

Last Friday evening, I went sailing with my sister-in-law, Awesome K (aka AK :)). She has her own boat so until Friday morning I assumed we’d be sailing on it. Not so. We were actually taking part in a yacht race. Well, she was, and I was along for the ride. Literally.

My father-in-law drove me to the dock. During the race, he walked AK’s dog. We did see them once - we made sure to wave!

AK sails her own boat (with a friend), but she also sails as part of a crew on a yacht*, owned by another friend of hers. This friend, D, is big into yacht racing, as well as wanting to introduce as many people as possible to his hobby. 

I want to go ahead and dispel the mental picture that you’re probably getting. Ooooh...yachts! Huge boats owned by billionaires! Well, there are those. D’s yacht, Mud Shark, is...way more common. It was 37 feet long. I don’t know how tall the sails were. 

I was a bit nervous, thinking how am I supposed to do anything helpful during a sailing race when I don’t have a clue as to what I’m doing? AK and D, along with Big Guy and fellow Former Ohioan (the other two members of the crew) put me at ease right away. Due to COVID, the yachts were allowed one passenger during the race. (I don’t know how many they were allowed previously.) Passengers are not to help with the race in any way - they’re just to observe. D told me, “You’re ballast. You’ll just need to move from side to side, and stay on the high side.” I was fine with that. :)

The race took place in the Oakland Estuary. There were very specific rules: certain buoys had to be passed on the starboard (right) side, and boats had to stick to the prescribed route. We basically sailed from one end to the other (not all the way, just mostly) for over an hour. If that sounds boring, trust me, it wasn’t.

When we got to Mud Shark, D commented that there wasn’t much wind. And there wasn’t - even I noticed that. Conditions, however, changed. By the time we’d left the dock and gone into the estuary, the wind had definitely picked up. It wasn’t a steady wind; it was gusting, which AK said made sailing more difficult.

D cut the engine once we’d gotten far enough. The sudden stop of the rumble underneath me made me even more aware of the wind. It was literally the only thing powering the boat.

In the modern age, we’re used to engines running every sort of vehicle. It is an odd feeling to be at the mercy of the elements. R-E-S-P-E-C-T to our ancestors, who lived that reality every day.

Before the beginning of the race, D had the others practice certain activities - turning the jib sail (the smaller, front sail in front of the main sail) and main sail from one side to the other, and tacking. I’ve looked up the definition of tacking but it kind of eludes me. The best way I can describe it is, when you’re on a sailing vessel and the captain calls for a tack, prepare for the boat to turn. For me, it meant both grabbing (or getting a better grip on the line on the bow) and also preparing to scramble to the other side of Mud Shark. 

While my only activity (other than watching the others move the sails in one direction and the other and try not to trip each other with ropes) was moving from one side of the boat to the other, this was by no means easy. Once we got going, Mud Shark was up and down, side to side, and every time I scrambled across the stern, usually at a crawl, I was always aware that if I didn’t have a good grip, the odds of me being pitched overboard were pretty good. And the wind was cold. I did not want to end up in the water. Of course we were all wearing life jackets, so even if the worst had happened, I wasn’t afraid of drowning. But the Oakland Estuary is...kinda gross.

There’s definitely strategy in sailing, as there is in any kind of race. One boat shadowed us at one point. BG told D, “they’re trying to catch the wind and cut in front of us.” And that’s exactly what happened. It was frustrating. To be fair, there was another slower boat that was in our way when we could have tried to cut off the boat that passed us, so some of it was just bad luck. At certain times, especially while tacking around buoys, boats were really close to each other. Like, we could practically hold hands with the other crews. No one did, obviously - and not just because of COVID. With all the bumping and jostling, it was easy to see how people could get hurt.

Watching AK, BG and FO scramble around, tying and untying ropes, trying not to get hit by the boom (base of the main sail) when it swung from one side to the other, was fascinating. At times there was a ton of activity going on, and at other times, like when we tacked and were downwind, we were almost dead in the water. I’d been prepared for the boat to lean one way or the other, but there were a few times when it was...a lot. Like me, AK, FO, and BG hanging off the port side, our left legs dangling and trying to compensate for the angle with our body weight. I was never afraid that we were going to capsize but it was intense, especially at the beginning of the race when the wind was gusting. D said more than once, “get ready for a puff”. I had to ask him what that meant. It’s a puff of wind. Duh...D, by the way, was great. He never made me feel stupid for any question I asked. He really likes for people to get into sailing, and is a sailing mentor to AK. I can see why. He’s calm, and obviously knows what he’s doing.

We finished second in the race. When we got back to the dock, the others pulled the sails down and wrapped them (I did help with that), and D had all of us eat some Ruffles chips. He then had me sign my name and the date on this looooooong stretch of blue tape that he’s kept, with the names of every person who’s sailed. Oh, and someone (FO, I think) produced a chocolate cake, so we ate that too. 

Honestly, I thought I’d like sailing when AK had talked about it, otherwise I never would have told her I’d like to try it sometime. I don’t think I like sailing, though. I think I love it. It’s just a bummer that we live a thousand miles minimum in all directions from any kind of ocean.

I am currently thirty-nine years old. If you ever want to try something new, do it. It doesn’t matter how old you are. You might just find something you love.

*During my re-watch of Downton Abbey, there’s a scene when Cora asks her mother, Martha, what her brother Harold is up to. Martha replies, “Yachts. Big yachts...something with yachts.” :)