#even if it's bulky and repetitive

[taraxacum-vulpes]

....oh.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor au anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 2: Piercings and Puns

“Pleeaaasse?” Johnny whines, pressing his hands together and giving you the biggest, sparkliest puppy dog look you could imagine.

You roll your eyes. “No.”

“Please! My two o’clock cancelled an’ I’m so bored!” He flops over the counter, arms dangling right above the appointment books. You pointedly ignore the size of his biceps.

“I’m not letting you pierce me just because you’re bored.” You scoff. “Now shoo, Simon’s got an appointment coming in soon.”

“But ye barely have any!” He argues. “All I’m askin’ fer is a wee ear. No’ even a nipple!”

A shocked amalgamation of a bark, laugh, and scoff forces it’s way out of you at that. “It’s still a no!”

Johnny groans, but at least moves away from the counter. Unfortunately, he takes the opportunity to circle around behind you, pinching the cartilage of your ear. “C’mon, ol’ righty’s beggin’ fer a conch.”

The intercom buzzes before you can respond. You swat Johnny away with one hand while pressing the speaker button with the other. “Hello?”

“I’ve go’ an appointment with Ghost.” A man’s voice drifts through. You blink dumbly for half a moment. You still haven’t gotten used to Simon’s social media and booking moniker - he doesn’t like giving his real name out much, apparently.

You buzz him in. Johnny is still hanging around the desk even when you leave to get Simon - making your way down the shirt hall to his studio. The large man stands in front of his stencil maker, back turned to you.

You knock on his door frame quietly. “Your guy’s here.”

“Be out in a moment.” He mumbles, focused on whatever he’s doing. You don’t really know the steps by heart, but you do know that there’s something so special about watching artists perform this repetitive song and dance. This rhythm they know by heart. Skilled hands enacting each step with careful precision.

He’s so hard to read. Big and bulky but calm as the night sea. You want him to like you, but you know badgering him certainly won’t get you there. So, you turn on your heal and head back out. When you return to the front, Johnny’s disappeared back into his room.

You suck your teeth and lean back in the desk chair, rolling your earlobe between your thumb and index finger. It’s not a bad offer, really. You only have two earlobe piercings on each side. Wouldn’t hurt to add a helix… you’ve also wanted to get your thirds done for a while. Work your way up. You glance at the clock. Simon won’t be done with his client for at least an hour or so, and you’ve balanced the registers for the moment. Both Kyle and John are out today, so they won’t need anything.

It wouldn’t hurt… well, not metaphorically.

With a sigh you stand, wandering your way to Johnny’s space. The door’s wide open, and his head snaps up the moment you step close like a sixth sense. “Takin’ me up on my offer, bonnie?”

You roll your eyes. “Guess I am.”

“Whit d’ye want?” Johnny practically skips around his station, pulling out wrapped, sanitized tools and placing them on a rolling tray. He pats the center of the padded table in the middle of the room.

“Uh, been wanting to do my thirds for a while.” You shrug. “If you have time for two.”

“Och, I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye, hen.” Johnny grins, pulling up in front of you and grabbing a marker.

He’s so close as he places the marks on your ears, warm fingers feeling for the best spots. A thumb traces the back of your left ear down just to the beginning of your jaw briefly. Fuck, he smells good. Warm musk with hints of citrus around the edges. The way he tucks your hair back, hands framing your face as he lines up the dots, is so oddly intimate compared to the other times you’ve gotten pierced. He chews at his lip in concentration, pulling at the scar on his chin while turning your head back forth a couple times.

“Think I’ve got it.” He grins and steps back. “Have a look.”

You take the mirror, casually checking but not paying too much attention. You trust him to do right by you. “Looks good.”

“A’right. Now the fun part.” He grins, tearing open the pack of tools and a two new needles.

“Is this fun?” You frown, squirming a little at the size of the needle.

“It’s always fun t’poke a pretty girl.”

You roll your eyes, a growing theme between you two it seems. “Oh, you thought that was real clever, didn’t you? Had that in your pocket a while?”

“Why donnae ye reach in an‘ check?” He murmurs, leaning close to clamp your left ear. You’re half tempted to tell him it’s mean to tease a fat girl like this - but you don’t think he means anything like that by it. He’s just a flirt by nature.

Before you can answer, he shoves the needle through your ear. You stiffen, a strained noise bubbling up out of your throat.

Johnny coos as he slips the earring into your ear. “One doon.”

“Uh-huh.” You sniffle. Not that it hurts badly, just a basic physical reaction. Johnny still gives you an empathetic smile.

The second goes quicker, Johnny locked in on his work. It’s interesting, seeing how intense they get. You Is it odd to wish someone would look at you like that? With that much focus and passion?

“There ye go…good girl.” He murmurs in that deep rumble that would have you squirming if you didn’t still have a needle through your ear. “Doin’ so good f’me...”

“You’re a devil, MacTavish.”

Johnny just chuckles, knowing full well exactly what he’s doing. He steps back to look at the final result after slipping the second stud into your ear. They feel hot - like two small ovens on either side of your head.

“If it weren’t for the piercings I’d think ye were blushing, hen.”

“You’re gonna get yourself slapped one of these days.” You scoff, sliding off the table.

“Wouldnnae be the first time.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes for the millionth time.

You grunt, squatting low in an attempt to pick the last of the parlor trash. It’s not that you mind, trash was part of your duties from the start, but holy shit do these boys put bricks in their bins? You’d think tattoos would make light trash. Especially after the sharps are disposed of separately.

“Solid?” Simon appears in the hall, eyes flicking over you. You still can’t tell how he feels about you. Neutral, you suppose. At least that’s all you can glean from behind his seemingly permanent black surgical mask.

“Ya.” You sigh, letting the bag drop and leaning back to stretch. “Just heavy. Swear y’all aren’t throwing rocks in these just to fuck with me?”

You give him a grin. Simon just cocks an eyebrow - exaggerated by the small piercing lining it. You think, maybe the slight shaking of his shoulder is a laugh. In combination won’t he crinkles in the corners of his eyes. Maybe not.

“‘ere.” Simon grunts, closing the short distance between you quickly before snatching up the bag like it weighs almost nothing.

You stutter, following after him toward the back exit. “You don’t have to-“

“Not a problem.” He grunts, tossing the thing over the side of the bin. He quietly leads you back inside, locking the door behind you “Johnny go’ you already?”

When you frown in confusion he points to his ears.

“Oh! Yeah.” You shrug, leading the way back to front desk to finish up your closing duties. “He’s insistent. I’d wanted them for a while anyway so I figured there’s no harm.”

“Give ‘im an inch...” He sighs, pointing to the black bar bridge piercing at the apex of his nose. “Somehow talked me into this shite.”

You tilt your head. “Yeah? I think it suits you.”

It really does. You can’t see most of his nose form under the mask but the arc of it leading up to bridge is strong, the piercing settling into the space nicely.

Simon breaks the silence. “You about done?”

“Almost. Just gotta check the ATM against the book real quick.” You nod.

He stares down at you for a moment, glancing out the semi-opaque window, now black with the night sky. There aren’t many street lamps on this side of town. You can only see a very faint glow from the one down by the car park.

“I’ll wait.” Simon settles his wide frame into Kyle’s usual chair.

“Oh! No you don’t have to! I’m sure you’re tired-“

“Wouldn’t feel right leavin’ you alone in the dark.” He cuts you off.

“It’s not a far walk-“

He scoffs. “Definitely not leaving you to walk alone.”

You sink your teeth into your lip, debating briefly on arguing. Based on his comfortable lean and crossed arms, it’s probably best to just let him walk you home. He looks so wide like that, veins prominent across his forearms. Fuck, you gotta find a boyfriend or booty call or something in this city. Anything to stop the temptation to stare at your hot coworkers.

It doesn’t take long to finish up your final chores. You turn all but one light off, wiring down from the bright overheads glaring at you all day. You glance over at Simon a few times while locking up the ATM, his covered face lit up by the light of his phone.

He leads you out of the shop once you’re finished, locking the door behind you and trying it a couple times to be sure. “Which way?”

“Uh, down here. It’s only twenty minutes.” You murmur, feeling guilty that you’ve kept him out extra late. You shove your hands in your hoodie pockets as you walk, the only sound on the street made up of your footsteps and some distant cars.

“What falls but never gets hurt?” Simon asks suddenly.

You frown. “Huh?”

“What falls but never gets hurt?”

You squint at him, trying to decipher anything from his face in the low light. You get nothing but a calm, warm gaze resting on you.

His eyes crinkle in the corners again. “Rain.”

“Pffft-“ You choke, caught off guard. “That’s such a lame pun.”

“Oh? I’ve got a better one.” Simon says, a smirk in his tone. “Why’d the mother clam scold her children?”

You chew your lip. God, you’re too literal to be clever enough for stupid puns and riddles. It doesn’t help that your head is spinning from this brick shithouse, incredibly attractive and intimidating man spitting popsicle puns at you.

“They were being shellfish.”

“Oh fuck off!” You shove at his arm playfully without thinking. He gives, let’s you push him slightly before you stiffen. “S-sorry! I don’t-“

“Nothin’ to apologize for.” The corners of his eyes crinkle deeper. Yeah, definitely a smile. You answer it with one of your own.

[heartrobynn]

01. “The start of nothing.”

I ask everyone who interacts with this account to educate themselves, support, and donate to Palestine.

Please click to support Palestine, won’t take more than 20 seconds.

Author note: This is my first fanfic I’ve ever made, so if this is really butt I apologize on my behalf! 😥 I’d also really appreciate it if given criticism, so I can try to improve my writing!! Honestly, I was gonna scrap this because I hate how it turned out, but I would’ve felt bad since people were excited for it.

series masterlist

Word count: 1.6k

“BUZZ!! BUZZ!!”, the bulky alarm clock that sits on your nightstand sang. Mumbles escaped your lips as you slowly started to awaken from your slumber. Getting irritated from the repetitive siren, you forced yourself up and unplugged the whole device. “Fucking hell.”, you mumbled to yourself, already knowing today was gonna be a long day. Every semester, everyone’s schedule gets changed because you’re required to take 4 classes each semester, unless you have release time. Last Friday, everyone got their schedule and you came to find out you have no classes with your two closest friends, Arianna and Maia. Which you were really annoyed about because you don’t really talk to anyone else. (But hey, at least you guys have lunch with each other!!) It’s not even like you cannot make friends, you just kinda choose not to, better to keep your friend group small anyways. 

After staring into the abyss for 5 minutes, trying to gain your consciousness, you decided to do something productive and hopped in the shower. After refreshing yourself for the day, you decided to wear an oversized, multi neutral color sweater and some dull colored jeans that weren’t your exact size, but not exactly over sized either. You added some jewels to your fit, so you looked less dead. Not having the energy to put on your usual makeup routine, you decided to apply mascara to your lashes and wore your favorite lip combo. After you were satisfied by how you looked, you grabbed your headphones and headed down stairs. 

“Morning sleeping beauty, how was your sleep last night?”, voice coming from the man sitting down on the table chair, reading the latest newspaper like the old man he is. “Morning papa! My sleep was decent, wished I could’ve slept in though.”, you sigh as you’re putting on your UNIF Phoebes. “You know what happened last time I let you stay home, don’t need your mother being pissy towards me.”, your father opened his mouth to add on, but decided not to say anything else at the last second. You shift around in the kitchen, grabbing the chicken wrap you made last night and a bottle of water. Walking to the door to grab your book bag and stuffing all your items necessary for the day in it, “Alright, I’m leaving now. Stay safe, love you!”, you walk out the door to see Adrianna and Maia waiting for you.

You enter the back seat of the jet black Toyota Corolla, which belonged to Adrianna. As you enter the car, your ears immediately get blasted by the lyrics coming from the aux, however since it’s Window Seat by Erykah Badu, it's a valid excuse to be blasting music that loud at 7:15. “Hey boo, you look so adorbs today!”, your effortlessly pretty friend, Maia, tells you while staring at you through the rearview mirror. “Thanks my love, feel so shitty today, so that made me feel a little better”, you groan as you start to slouch in the car seat, dreading the fact y’all would be arriving at school in the next 10 minutes. Adrianna giggles at you, you were always the dramatic one out of the trio, “Trust and believe that you can last 3 periods without us until lunch. Plus, you could use this as an opportunity to get to know more people!” Maia nods her head agreeing with Adrianna. Even though you have Maia and Adrianna, your friends really were persistent in you meeting new people, especially since this was y’all last year, they just didn’t want you regretting missing out on so many opportunities. “Sighhh, I guess I could.”, you continue to slouch in the car seat, while Adrianna starts singing her own adlibs (that she swears up and down eats) and Maia groans in annoyance because she's gonna go crazy if Adrianna continues singing.

The first day with your renewed schedule wasn’t all that bad, but wasn’t interesting either. Well, not until your third period class. Your first period was Spanish IV, you sat in the back so you won’t gather much of your teacher’s attention later in the year. Even though you enjoyed learning Spanish, you hated when your previous Spanish teachers would randomly pick on you to read out a question or sentence they had on the board. Although, as you were seated in the back of the classroom, you noticed a certain auburn hair colored girl, she really only caught your eye because she was fast asleep during the little icebreakers your teacher showcased on the board. She was so into her sleep that you almost envied her, wishing you could sleep just like a newborn baby who just got breastfed just like she was. You whipped out your phone, not wanting to look like a creep for staring so hard and scrolled through r/AITA thread until class ended. 

When the period ended, you and your friends met up with each other so y'all could walk each other to class, even if y'all had to go separate ways. “Bro there’s this girl in my class and I swear she’s the love of my life.”, Adrianna dreamily sighs thinking about the girl’s captivating beauty and her alluring smile, while you and Maia give her the stankest side eye. “Babes.., this is like the 3rd girl you swore was the love of your life in the past 2 weeks.” Adrianna redirected her attention to Maia while you added on, “no actually, and then they be the most vile looking creatures I’ve seen.”, Adrianna rolled her eyes at the both of you raining on her parade, “Why can’t y'all ever support me? If I wanna fall in love with every woman I meet, y'all supposed to be my best wingmen.” Adrianna playfully argued with the both of y'all before the warning bell rudely interrupted. “Oh shit, we gotta go. I’m not tryna get caught up in the hall sweep again.” All three of y'all quickly scattered as y'all said your goodbyes, thankfully your class was nearby, so you weren’t late!

You walked into your calculus I class, only to find there was one seat left and it was right in the front too. You already knew you were gonna despise this class, as you sat down in the seat, your teacher began to pass out papers to the class, “To those who just walked in, I’m passing out a review paper of different pre-calculus problems to refresh your memories for next class because we’ll be getting straight into the lesson.” Students around the classroom mumbling and groaning in annoyance, all you can do is just sit in silence as you’re about to fall into your inevitable doom. Your teacher hands your own paper, you look at the first question, only to find out you’re completely cooked.

After that abominable second period, you decided to go straight to your AP Physics class rather than hanging out with your friends during the passing period because you wanted to have the opportunity to pick your seat without being limited. However, that wish got immediately crushed when you walked in the classroom just to see assign seats displayed on the board, “are you fucking serious right now.” you think to yourself trying not to crash out in the middle of class. You look at the name of the girl who sat right next to you, Abigail Anderson. You’ve heard good and bad things about the girl, but you didn’t know her yourself personally, so you didn’t really have your own opinion on her. You looked away from the board scanning the room to find y’all seats, only to see the muscular girl on her phone, paying no attention to her surroundings. You sat next to her feeling really awkward, especially since she didn’t even look up at you to acknowledge your presence. 

As the bell rings, your teacher starts to explain the reason why she has y’all in assign seats. Your seatmate is your assigned partner for any class work y’all have if it requires it and completing the study guides with each other, since the curriculum cannot be fully covered in class,  you and your partner are responsible for teaching it among yourselves. You quietly celebrate in your head, relieved from the awkwardness from having to find your own partner. However, that relief is short-lived as your partner, Abby, raises her hand up, drawing the teacher’s attention. “Is there an issue, Ms. Anderson?” Your teacher asks as she views her clipboard to make sure she addressed the girl's name correctly. “Are we allowed to request a new partner?”, right then and there, a surge of embarrassment washes over you completely. “Unfortunately no, In the real world you’re gonna have to work with people you don’t want to or don’t know, so you need to get prepared for that starting now!”, your teacher firmly says. You catch a scoff and a muttered remark from Abby, being reluctant about working with you. Normally, you’d let shit slide, but today your mouth moves before you can stop. “Alright, now you’re doing entirely too fucking much, acting like I desperately wanna work with you or something.”, Abby turns her head to face you, giving you an insulting gaze before opening her obnoxious ass mouth to speak again. “Not my fault you look like an insufferable person, I personally don’t wanna work with someone who’s gonna cause me headaches.”, as she continued to speak, the more agitated you were getting, how is she gonna label you as an insufferable person when she doesn’t even fucking know shit about you?? Fuming with frustration, you're about to respond when the teacher intervenes, “Alright ladies, calm down. I don’t need any of that happening in my class, if y’all have problems with each other y’all can solve that on your own time. Anyways back to what I said previously...” As the tension eases, your teacher returns to her lesson, though the uneasy atmosphere lingers in the air. Throughout the remainder of class, your mind could only focus on the things Abby said, unable to shake the irritation she caused. 

part 02. ??

Taglist:

@elliesactualgirlfriend @desireesfics

[badmoonriiising]

Regulus should have known following one of Barty's ideas was bad news. His friend is reckless. An idiot whose brain left him too soon. Not for nothing he's always posting those ridiculous pictures of him posing in front of the mirror showing off his bulky muscles. Stupid. Nobody really cares about his Instagram feed, except perhaps Evan.

It's just. Regulus is not built to be a gym person. He had dizziness the first time he went there, making his coach (some guy called Moody who's mad and looks like a bull) believe he didn't even have breakfast that day, thinking he was going through a clinical episode of anemia. His legs are so tiny they look like straws in his sports trunks. He doesn't know how to use the exercise machines. He's sore all the time. He lies about how many series and repetitions he does during arm day. And let's not forget the time he almost fell off the treadmill, distracted looking at this guy with killer abs and ignoring Braty's warning about speed increase.

He just laughed endlessly, until Regulus managed to turn off the fucking treadmill. That bastard, really. He keeps coming to this hell because he already paid for the month. It has nothing to do with abs guy looking so freaking hot, nor Regulus wanting to study anatomy with his body, running his tongue above every muscle.

Somehow, gym pictures are no longer dumb when they come with a boy with hazel eyes hiding behind a pair of glasses. Regulus would have a happy death if it comes with him being strangled between those thighs...

The day Regulus finally falls off the treadmill while distracted with his crush, is the day James Potter talks to him, running like a maniac to lift him from the floor. Regulus can not live with such embarrassment. Too bad he's not going back to the gym this time, because abs guy has been watching him with perhaps more interest than Regulus' this entire time.

[lilunar]

Dear, name

prologue

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Trueform!Sukuna x reader warnings: mention of death, suicidal, killing, bullying, death

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Silence called for your manners as you stepped into your father's headquarters, all eyes were examining you. You stayed in silence, not daring to glance upon all those eyes that were menacing you, sauntering to your father's throne before holding a halt in front of his feet as you bent forward, bowing down to him. Remaining still on the ground, you can't do anything else except listen to your father's conversation with the man beside him, waiting patiently for his permission before you can continue your act.

"K- king Sukuna, please take a look at her, she is so obedient and she can serve anything thing you want. So p- please take her and not my precious daughter please." Your father begged, with fear in his eyes and tears around his lid from the thought of losing his precious daughter or your half-blood sister.

Your family is a messed up one and you know that. All you had left was you, yourself. Your mother died, trying to protect you from curses. She sacrificed all she had just for you. You, who wanted to die but you kept on tolerating. You, who don't want to be selfish. You, who hope one day you will be far gone from them.

"Hmm..... I'll take her," you felt an enormous hand lifting your chin and you were lingering in dismay as to make eye contact with the man in front of you, he inspected your whole body sharply before he let go after finalising his thought. He signalled to another person whom you concluded is his subordinate to approach you.

"Come with me," they said, reaching out their hand for you to grab. Gently, you reached out your hand to hold theirs then got up slowly. They walked to the room's entryway and you followed them without hesitation until an unexpected voice interrupted both of your ways. "One is not enough," Both of you turned your head gradually before staring at the interruption's owner. You finally see the man's whole appearance, his body seems to passed numerous repetitions for it to be bulky and built firmly. He had four eyes and they enchant you due to them being full of the colour red, unforgettable to state that half his face seems to have a slice of wood on it. His four arms caught your attention the most until you noticed his tattoos which caught your attention even more. Over all he is monstrous.

After suffering from bewitching a sight helped you escape away. The sight of your sister being sliced. She's dead.

A thud was heard and now silence is screaming. 

Thud, thud, silence is screeching.

He killed all your bloodlines.

"Let's go, Uraume. Bring her with us too."

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author's note: Please do not repost, rewrite, or do anything without my permission, reblogs are perfectly fine. Feel free to correct my mistake, English is not my first language.

*I do not own the characters, Gege Akutami does. Only y/n is written by me.*

[mariusroyale]

tips on how to draw raph? :3

I’m a raph lover but he is so hard to draw 😔

hey an!! listen i get u completely, this big spikey boy can be a real challenge

my main advice would probably be to recognise raph’s structure? his shapes and how he’s formed, etc. and the best way for that imo are references! i have a tag for this actually

and here’s some raph refs!

if u wanna know how to draw the entirety of the best boy this post wouldn’t do it justice so here’s some main things:

if you’re trying to replicate the show’s style keep in mind how angular everything is. raph's main shape is a square because of how bulky and rigid he is (helps to encourage his character's role too! love that they made him such a fucken tank)

raph’s head shape is basically if you widened leo’s head- they’re both pointed too

one main thing i do for any head really is keep in mind the eye placement and the cheeks

if u happen to draw faces with the fabled circle and two lines- i use the horizontal line to mark where the bottom of the eyes are- and where the start of the cheek begins (i’m doing my best not to make this into a ‘now draw the rest of the owl’ moment)

if that makes any sense. heres a really shoddy 'tutorial'

i kinda just blank out on my canvas and raph appears out of sheer will

but also just like.

figure out how you like raph's head to look (maybe u want his snout longer, or his jaw shorter, etc etc)

figure out where his brow ridges are located and how they're moving (is he grumpy? is he angry??)

make a mask for his eyes to go in (jebus take the wheel)

pronounce snout (it protrudes, which makes it easy to figure out his facial planes)

do whatever feels right for his mouth- im not exactly rigid with how i draw as of rn, i just do what feels right

ive drawn raph with a more pronounced snout too, and oscillate between designs if i feel like it (truthfully i also sometimes begin his head shape with a square (i mean if im doing a different style), feel free to do that if it helps i dunno-)

if you want to draw his shell and plastron here’s what i do:

being able to carve out 3D shapes will help a lot with the border of his shell

by blocking out the main shape and then carving away at it you can then see how raph’s shell is structured (just. try decipher my sketch if u can pfghjhj)

for the actual shell itself it’s a lot like mikey and leo’s where it has a big curve and then dips at his midsection (where his belt goes!) also keep in mind the spikes of his shell follow those same curves (ft. dr belle)

with his plastron (chest plate) i basically make sure it’s the same length of his clavicle? the jagged edges of it i mean. it helps a lot to map out where his shoulders meet his arms

(pls keep in mind my art’s inconsistent and i don’t even follow my advice- the hole in his shell changes every time i draw it 💀)

his body shape is also just in general wider and stockier- if i ever see people draw him skinnier than he is you'd be able to hear my soul exiting my body

all of him is wider in general! hes bigger than the rest of his brothers so dont forget to show it instead of just giving him a height difference. he BEEG.

i’m not sure how else to describe the process of drawing him other than just. draw him?? 😅 my best advice would be to draw him repeatedly based on references- and study your favourite raph artists’ way of drawing him (mine would be jacocoon and itz_jazzy_jazzin)

and it helps to study bc it can answer these questions

how do you want to draw him? do you like the way a specific artist stylises his features? do you want him more spikey? more sharp? maybe you want to draw him bigger! (i myself like to give him a tail, extra markings on his spikes + a few scars post movie and his mismatched eyes)

repetition is super important to get it all engrained in your brain- and it’s why i don’t really even use refs for him anymore fldjs

dont forget a very important rule: appreciate the big boy in all his glory

[nerdranttheories]

Final Exam Arc: All Might Analysis

I’ve seen a lot of people dissing on how All Might beat the ever living crap out of Midoriya and Bakugo in this arc. Which I agree, he took it way too far. But there’s something that caught my attention about All Might’s behavior during this segment.

All Might repeatedly complains about the weights they’ve put on him.

All Might is incredibly strong, the weights shouldn’t even put much of a hamper on him if they’re only half his body weight, so this is unusual. He’s also not someone who complains in general. He’s the upbeat symbol of peace as All Might, and he never complains about his injury. His explanation of it is matter-of-fact to Izuku. He never tries to get out of doing something because of his disability, and instead tends to power through it to the point of hurting himself further, and still won’t stop until someone else makes him.

Also, repetition is a tool writers use to create emphasis, so his repeated mentions of the weights means it’s important, but for the reasons I stated above, it’s an unusual thing for All Might to be saying/thinking.

My first thought was that his weights are half of his original weight, 600 pounds or whatever Izuku said during the Training Arc, and now that he’s lost weight the number is more significant. But then again, All Might is so strong he changed the wind pressure of a concentrated area to the point of changing the weather with a single punch. So this theory still doesn’t make sense.

Then I remembered the Sports Festival arc, where All Might is talking about the support item he temporarily used. It was too bulky, he claimed, to be of proper use. And then, when Izuku grabbed his leg in the beginning of the series, he noticed that something was slowing him down.

My current theory is that All Might is incredibly sensitive to additional weight on his body, and possibly, due to his injury making him weaker on one side, it destabilizes him. I believe he can’t properly control his strength when inhibited in this way, and that’s why A, he immediately dropped Izuku off as opposed to leaving him with the police, and B, he hurt Bakugo and Midoriya so badly during the exam.

But anyway! That’s just what I think, feel free to disagree in the tags or comments. :)

[bbyfacedx]

first crota fireteam headcanons!

putting this below a cut because it’s ungodly long. i have so many thoughts about them and pre-hellmouth eris i just let the delusions take over.

Eris Morn

Initially very outgoing, optimistic and talkative, typical Hunter sense of humor, curiosity, snd adventurousness, with a touch of that Warlock-y bookishness

Short, about 5’5, and a little chubby, physically in her late 20’s-early 30’s, brown curly hair with bangs, generally very neat and well-kept appearance with a preference for comfy sweaters/long skirts

Competitive and surprisingly intelligent for a Hunter, very nimble and quick in combat, Arc Blade Dancer

Friendly and even a little promiscuous, disastrously non-monogamous bisexual heartbreaker, catches feelings fast and easy

Close relationship with Brya, who acts like a cross between a nagging Russian babushka and the one girl in the friend group who takes closet organization a little too seriously.

Became progressively more mature throughout the Ahamkara Hunt/Great Disaster, during which she was the oblivious third-wheel to Eriana and Wei Ning

Changed drastically after Wei Ning’s death, becoming more reserved but still optimistic and hopeful

Her #1 motivation for the attack on Crota was to help Eriana find peace and heal from Wei Ning’s death; absolutely had strange and undefined feelings for Eriana

Vell Tarlowe

Courageous and noble, a prime example of the “knightly” Titan. Focused on honor and ethics, doing the right thing and never leaving anyone behind

Handsome and boyishly charming, about 6’2 and fit but not incredibly bulky, sun-tanned with beachy blonde hair and blue eyes; think Captain America meets Ken from the Barbie movie.

Multi-subclass with a preference toward Void; more of a lover than a fighter. Will always prioritize getting civilians and teammates out safely over taking out enemies when possible

Probably the second oldest after Toland, has had a long-running patrol in the EDZ villages helping transport civilians through enemy territory

Saved Eris and Brya from being crushed under debris after a Fallen attack, then recruited her for his patrol team; he has a strong fondness for her that remained even after Eris went her own way

Has an extremely sensitive side and cares deeply for other people, especially children; highly empathetic and would give you the shirt off his back if you asked, selfless to a fault

Treats Razor almost like a little brother; he’s Vell’s #1 hype man and encourager of his occasional reckless ideas

Metalwork is his “peace of mind” hobby, enjoys the repetitive process of making chainmail and other small jewelry crafts, especially for his close friends and partners

Immediately hit it off with Omar upon introduction; the extrovert friend who handles social situations Omar is too awkward for

His death in the Hellmouth was 100% pure self-sacrifice; he’d volunteered to guard the rear, didn’t draw any attention to himself or cry for help to prevent the others from getting hurt trying to save him

Died at peace knowing he’d at least helped his team get to their destination safely

Sai Mota

Shy, quiet, and very introverted, unassuming and easily overlooked. She initially gravitated toward Eris’ outgoing nature

Very petite, about 5’3, extremely thin and flexible, of Asian descent, straight dark hair, dark eyes, and freckles!

Knife girl, has at least 6 on her person at all times, stealthy assassin-style fighter, Bade Barrage and throwing knife enthusiast

Carves beads/charms and makes jewelry in her free time, sometimes sells it for a little extra Glimmer

Has a tendency to be easily convinced or persuaded, typically relies on others for guidance and decision-making, very go with the flow and adaptable

Despite being quiet, Sai is unstoppable if you get her fired up about something she’s passionate about. Will lecture you if you talk down on yourself in her presence

Was just as optimistic about the attack on Crota as Eris, if not more, very quick to befriend Vell, Omar, and even Toland

Lost it a little bit after Vell’s death. She knew their mission was doomed and accepted that if he hadn’t survived, she probably wouldn’t make it out either, wanted her death to be meaningful

After they failed to kill the Hand of Crota, she ran in the opposite direction of Eriana to allow her escape, allowed Yuka to keep reviving her so many times as a diversion to keep Omnigul distracted even though it was a waste of her Light

Toland was 100% right about her; she desperately craved her team’s respect, especially from Eris

Omar Agah

Mega-nerd, detail oriented, and painfully socially awkward. Could not navigate his way out of a social situation to save his life.

Tall, around 6’0, very broad and bulky build, not fat persay but definitely a big guy. Dark-skinned Afro-Latino with long locs and brown eyes, says he’s 31 because that’s a Good Number.

OCD as hell and extremely picky/particular/paranoid about everything. Chronic skin-picker, rest in pieces to his upper arms, lips, and fingers, he has tons of scarring and picks so much his ghost can barely keep up with it

Some of his obsessions include: 2 and 4 are unlucky numbers, asymmetry is bad luck, if he doesn’t give his little talismans to people in his life they’ll die horrifically and it’s his fault.

Multi-subclass Hunter. Will obsess over what works best for each specific mission/objective. The most flawless and meticulous builds and weapon-ability combos

His ghost, Karsys, is relatively quiet and uninvolved with Omar, more of a strong and silent protector when necessary

Met Eris when she saved him from certain final death in a lost sector. She stumbled across him by chance, but Omar took it as a sign that she’s Good Luck

Any time he has a risky mission coming up, he’ll pop up at Eris’ door with treats and little gifts and spend the night chatting with her like she’s some Goddess of Fortune

Full faith in the Crota raid because Eris Is There

Absolutely HATES Toland’s vibes. Everything about him screams misfortune and Omar can’t stand it

Gave every one of his team mates their own little talisman before the raid just for that extra good-luck boost; held onto Eris’ though she declined it

Sai and Vell’s deaths pretty much shattered his entire world view. He made sure everything was perfect, that they were wearing his gifts, and they still died.

Felt like he deserved the torture of losing his ghost and having his Light torn away piece by piece because he failed to protect his team. Ouch!

When Eris saw him in his final moments, he urged her to leave him behind and press on, confident that she’d make it to the end even if he’d damned the rest of their team

Obviously it wasn’t his choice to get turned into a bug, but funny enough, Bug Omar is a cricket! And Bug Omar gets encased in amber when Eris puts him in Xenophage. Both crickets and amber are symbols of good luck :)

Toland, the Shattered

Enigmatic cryptic old man scholar, frustratingly cagey, speaks in riddles, major know-it-all and certified well-actually specialist.

Lanky and tallish, around 5’10-11, long black hair and pretty pale from lack of sunlight. Probably a little Native American somewhere in his ancestry, visibly a bit more aged than the others, between late 40’s-early 50’s

NOVA BOMB VOIDLOCK BABY!! Collects Hive weapons for funsies but rarely uses them in close range combat

Poor eyesight and very little spatial awareness, strong disdain for the flesh and neglects basic tasks like eating, sleeping, bathing, etc. when he’s fixated on something. Also super clumsy and constantly bruised from running into shit in his little exiled wizard lair

Toland and Guren are typical freak and freak-enabler. They’re each others’ only company in exile, so Guren feeds into all of Toland’s ideas and theories and gets just as invested as he is

The Hive obsession is strong and he definitely was treading into some dangerous territory, theorized that a Lightbearer could commune with the Hive via hearing the Deathsong and ultimately produce Lucent Hive

Joined the team mostly to get in close proximity with Ir Yut and planned to offer himself and his Light up to her

Unveiled his signature weapon to his raid team as the “Osseous Rifle of Four-Hundred Screams”, but Omar freaked out, said it had “bad juju”, and the nickname stuck.

Clicked surprisingly well with Sai despite not having a ton of faith in her, also close with Eris and Eriana as he’d briefly tutored them in Hive lore when they were preparing for the first attack on Crota. They aren’t sure whether the information he gave them had anything to do with Wei Ning’s death

Guided the team through the Hellmouth, took care of translating any Hive tunes they came across and solving all the puzzles. Genuinely made a valiant effort until they reached Ir Yut

Rocked up to her with all his autistic rizz on some “let’s form an alliance” shit and got balled anyway. Not mad about it though!

Eriana-3

Semi-competent lesbian with a strong will and fighting spirit. If Eris is a Warlock-ish Hunter, Eriana is a Titan-ish Warlock. That big heart gets her into a Lot Of Situations.

Around 5’10, slender but sturdy build and very elegant looking for an Exo. Her plating is white, grey and orange with markings around the crown of her head that resemble a sunburst. Very piercing orange-yellow eyes

Phoenix Protocol Well-lock. Typical strategy is keeping her well up at all times so Wei and Eris could do most of the offense/damage and run back to her for healing

Spent most of her time as a guardian trying to be that ideal super-serious no fun allowed Praxic Warlock— until she met Wei Ning

Fell in love with Wei Ning the first time she heard her laugh, then Wei spent most of their “talking” stage trying to get Eriana to laugh back. Eriana’s laugh is super dorky and obnoxious and Wei loved it

They got married in a simple ceremony at the bar they first met at— Eriana gave Wei a hand cannon as a wedding gift hence the name Eriana’s Vow. Wei gifted her a specially-made version of the Fighting Lion grenade launcher that had enhanced damage perks while standing in a Well

Jax and Wei Ning’s Ghost were in love too :)

Met Eris through association with Ikora— viewed her as a close friend and is very protective of her. There’s something confusing and complex going on with their relationship, but Wei treated Eris like a little sister and Eriana didn’t know how to navigate that.

Easily the least reckless of their group before Wei Ning’s death. That was a major turning point and all her composure went out the door. She became very impulsive and revenge-driven, not caring about the consequences so long as it meant avenging Wei

Relied on Eris for a lot of emotional support after that, which Eris definitely took the wrong way. They kissed and slept together (like actually cuddled and fell asleep) a handful of times before facing Crota, but they both knew it wasn’t anything serious and Eris would never be to her what Wei was

Fond of Vell, Sai and Omar, trusted them to care for Eris in all the ways she couldn’t; still saw them as expendable but had hope they’d be smart enough to retreat if things got dicey

Very contentious relationship with Toland; her Praxic ideology contradicts with his affinity for the Hive and she harbors suspicion that he misled them in the first Crota raid and/or somehow contributed to Wei’s death. She definitely might have hoped that something would happen to Toland during their raid

Her objective for the raid was “avenge Wei Ning or die trying”, very much did not intend to make it out herself. By the time they actually embarked on the raid, she was entirely consumed and blinded by her need for vengeance.

Was essentially “throwing” the entire raid, not playing to her skill set, fighting offensively and Titan-like rather than staying support, never used her Well a single time in the Hellmouth

Not to mention, she was using Wei Ning’s gun the entire time!!! Not, yknow, one of her own long-range weapons that she was used to using to suit her combat style

Died willingly to Ir Yut, assuming that the rest of her team was already dead and she’d taken them all to the grave in pursuit of vengeance— unleashed the full power of her Light as she died as a last-ditch effort to make this all mean something, even if it was only injuring the Deathsinger in the process

[heavyknitter]

2 - Do you even knit bro

So here I am, with my little test piece and wool my aunt brought me from the store and new knitting needles and a bunch of wool I acquired myself on day 3 of my knitting journey.

So.. we hit September 29th - the day I just went for it.

I figured I had done plenty of practice for just doing something as basic as a scarf, I mean, basically I already made a little animal sized scarf already right so how hard can it be to do this on a larger scale?

Well. Lets start with the fact that while I knew the basic movement of knitting I had not yet learned how to cast on wool to start something new. Because remember, my aunt did that with the test piece and did the first two rows - so over to the auntie we go and we run back into the same issue as before - she can't explain and I can't follow. Hand manipulation became funky business because neither of us realized that when I tried to copy I held the threads wrong and tried to cast on loops with the thread connected to the wool not the other one. It was a bit of a funny back and forth because she looked over my hand movements, saw me pick up the thread and of course it did not work as intended and neither of us cottoned in on what was going wrong here. It might seem silly, but I was very pleased with myself once she retried on her own hand to figure out what I am doing wrong (remember we are both kinaesthetic creatures, she needed to replicate my movements to find out what is wrong but as opposed to me she held the threads - both of them - correctly for this step so she did not realize what went wrong on my end) that it dawned on me that I had thrice looped the threads wrong around my fingers and of course it could not work that way. So I took the thing back from her, wound the threads around my hand again and this time it worked. My first correctly cast on loop. Fuck yeah. The upside of fucking around so much on this basic step and then realizing what went wrong would ensure that this is now second nature ain't no way I am doing this wrong again ever. Good thing too because my aunt was starting to get mildly frustrated because this is easy basic stuff but somehow it is complicated and I get why it frustrated her a bit how clumsy my humble beginnings are but I reminded her gently, that she did this for years, she does not have to think or plan anything for her it is all muscle memory, just like riding a bike. But I have not learned how to ride this particular bike - would she expect me to know how to hold my balance without having it ever done before? Of course not. And any new task that involves your body and movement needs to be hardwired in your brain to make you perform it with the same ease she does it. The older we get, the more we forget how tricky it can be to pick up something new you have never done before and many people get frustrated and stop learning something because they wrongly assume being an adult means you should learn shit in a snap. Nah. Everything we learn kickstarts new neural pathways in our brain, those want to be engaged and nurtured by repetition you can't just go into something new and come out a pro in the same day. 's not how it works. But my aunt is in her late 50s so it's been a while since she got into any new craft. But she understood when I explained and reminded.

So here I am, happily casting on loop after loop and I have no concept on how much to get a good broad scarf so my aunt estimated for me to make like 40 (I am working on another scarf right now and she was absolutely right - 40 is the perfect amount for this particular bulky wool) and I said "I want it huge, really really big you feel me? So she said "make it 45 then". By the time I started counting how many I already had on there I was at 55 but instead of stopping there I figured, ehh extra bulky - and made it 70.

And let me tell you, with absolute no shadow of a doubt, this was both a mistake and overshooting the goal widely and also the best thing ever.

It is soft, it is bulky, it is wide enough that if I get it to the length I wish to achieve I could very likely roll myself up in it. And I mean completely. Like.. drape and wrap it nicely, use some safety pins and bäm. Could make it some sort of eccentric statement piece in the next ballroom. So yeah, Friday the 29th was go-time and I was knitting until like.. what.. 2am happy as a clam. Next morning, Saturday I woke up, grabbed the thing to knit a bit before getting up, count the loops and.. I lost one. No idea were it went, no idea when it went and no idea how to spot were it is. The good thing for me was, that on this very Saturday my mother would drop in to help me with something and if my auntie is an expert in knitting, then my Mother is the master. There was so much crafted stuff in my childhood home and my fondest memories of my mother are her crocheting, knitting, or crafting something. Mostly fancy Easter eggs with fabrics pearls and feathers and stuff. Really fancy shizzle. So of course when she dropped in I was like "Mama! I started to knit! Also I lost a loop and I do not know where it is or how to spot it in this bulky thing help meeeee!" And she gave me a look. You know the one. The one only an exasperated Mom can give you. But eh, she found it. Six or Seven rows below and so she unraveled all those rows, threw everything back on the needle, counted, and then redid the rows with speed I could not comprehend. She also muttered something about this wool being bad, it's too dark too bulky can't see shit with that why would you use that as starting project yadda yadda yadda. (I think she was pleased tho, she tried back then to get both of her children into crafting but my brother was more for gaming and bionicles and I was more art, writing and gaming the spark was not quite there yet)

She gave me a second look when I showed her the wool I had acquired already for future projects because she lowkey thinks I might not stick with it - well, let it be known I am in deep. I might eventually balance it out again with all my other hobbies but for now I just wanna progress and create stuff and I like to have a lil stash on hand. She promised me to show me how to knit with 5 needles to make some legwarmers I am very exited and down the line of talking she told me not to try a blanket because she wanted to do that and was discouraged because its expensive and takes too long. But she also told me that the bulky wool I have going for the scarf she would do away with in 1 hour so I'm like... damn woman if you're so fast and money is no longer an issue you could probably pull this off in record time.

It also gave me a lil kick because this bulky thing? 1 hour??

Now that it a goal to work up to >d

This is the state of the scarf currently by the way, pulled over both of the knitting needles so I can show you just how broad this thing is. The lighter is a normal sized lighter that fits in the palm of your hand. Like I said, 70 loops was both the worst and best decision I made with this. I already had to start a second roll of wool for this. It will take a bit to finish. In fact I already finished something else in the meantime while working on this because just one WIP is not a thing I can do (I have now 5 things I work on truth be told)

But yeahhhh it huge I love this thing I can wear this as fullbody piece eventually I am very pleased. And it is soft. It is so soft. I love it so much.

[gaviicreates]

knitting adventures

So I went to my local Michael's and grabbed a pattern for a lace knit cowl which they'll sometimes have for free to help for selling yarn inspiration, but my store didn't carry the yarn that was suggested in the pattern. I don't usually work with bulky yarn, so I wasn't comfortable trying to find a suitable alternative, and in my Christmas shopping travels I came across a different Michael's store.

They *did* have the yarn, so I picked it up and worked the first part of the pattern before I realized maybe lace was a little ambitious for a new knitter. It had intermediate as the level, but what's a little challenge? So I kept going knowing if I felt like it was too difficult down the line, it would be okay. I'm learning.

So I get to the ribbing which is supposed to be a k2, p1 and we aren't in the round, so when row 2 told me to p2, k2, I knew something wasn't right. If the pattern can't even express ribbing correctly, what does that say for the part of the pattern that's lace? Can I even continue to trust the process?

I kept going.

In a wild turn of events, guess what? The lace pattern is wrong. *gasp*

So anyway, I found a video tutorial online - the print out was very obviously different than the one I had. And I've tinked 16 rows of "lace" to start over, aaaand I've probably hurt my wrist from not taking breaks. It was a very repetitive and addictive pattern.

At least I am learning enough to recognize when something doesn't look right, I guess.

[minty-mumbles]

Meeting Family

Summary: The chain visits one of the fairy fountains while in Wild's era, and Hyrule gets to meet some distant family.

Author’s Note: @transzeldas you said you wanted more fairy family content so here you go :) Thank you @m1kayu for beta reading for me

This is set in my Flowers and Fountains AU | Read on AO3

~~~

Hyrule stared up in awe at the Great Mother. He was tucked into the wall of a rocky clearing in Wild’s era. The Great Mother- introduced to them by Wild as Kaysa- was relaxed, lounging against the edge of her Fountain as she talked to Wild. 

He hadn’t approached her yet, although he wanted to. When Wild had made the introductions, giving the Mother the names of all the heroes, and giving them her name in return, Hyrule had stayed in the back, partially hidden behind Twilight’s bulky frame. The rancher had shot him an odd look but hadn't asked any questions, which Hyrule was gratefully for. Twilight was good at minding his own business.

Hyrule had so many questions he wanted to ask Kaysa, but now wasn’t the time. He could tell his curiosity wasn’t unrequited. She’d glanced curiously at him several times but respected the distance he’s placed between them, and focused on the Champion instead. Hyrule knew if he approached her now, she might say something that would hint at secrets he wasn’t ready to tell. He’d have to wait until everyone had gone to sleep to approach. 

In the meantime, he tucked himself into an out-of-the-way place, and waited for night to fall. 

The other heroes had spread out through the clearing, getting ready to rest for the night. Wild and Time were engrossed in conversation with Kaysa, trying to gather information about any unusual occurrences in Wild’s era. Wind was tucked into Sky’s side, watching the older hero carve a small wooden statue. The sailor’s eyes were already drooping, lulled to rest by Sky’s hypnotic repetitive actions. Warriors, who had taken the middle shift last night, was already laying out his bedroll, likely planning to go right to sleep. Legend sat nearby, ignoring everyone and running a whetstone over his blade. Four was nowhere to be seen, though no one seemed worried about it. 

The smith, much like many in their group, had a habit of wandering off for a while, when seeking time alone. He never looked any worse for wear when he returned, actually often looking a great deal happier. Hyrule didn’t know what Four did when he disappeared but it really wasn’t any of his business. He would be a hypocrite if he worried too much about it. He himself wandered all too often, after all.

Besides, Wild had assured them that the Fairy Fountains were some of the safest places in his era. It would be impossible for monsters to get up on this mini plateau without making a great deal of noise, and even if they did, Kaysa would notice and alert them. There would be no need to set a watch tonight, and wherever Four had wandered off to, he would be safe. 

Hyrule sighed lightly. Legend looked up with an expectant eyebrow, thinking he had something to say. Hyrule just shook his head, and the veteran shrugged, turning back to his sword. Likewise, Hyrule turned back to his own contemplation. He stretched out, reclining on a flat rock behind him and closing his eyes. The sun was slowly setting but even as the shadows crept into the clearing the rocks remained pleasantly warm against his skin. 

Slowly, Hyrule centered himself in the present, pushing away his thoughts and worries, and focusing on the physical feelings of being in the clearing. He let the warmth of the rock soak into his muscles. Dusty sand shifted under his fingers when he dragged them against the surface of the rock he lay against. A lazy breeze brushed against his face, carrying the scent of the oil Legend was using to polish his sword to Hyrule’s nose. Underneath that, the smell of the flowers that grew in the clearing permeated the air- a type of thistle, Hyrule thought, although he didn’t recognize the exact variety. 

Further away, Hyrule could hear the comforting tones of the Great Mother’s voice, interspersed with Time’s low rumble and Wild’s questions. He didn’t bother trying to pick out the words spoken, instead letting the sounds wash over him. He could hear the scrape, scrape, scrape of Sky’s knife against the wood, along with deep even breathing from Wind, who must have fallen asleep. 

Once his mind was focused solely on the sensations of his surroundings, he let it all fall away. His attention turned to what he could sense with his magic instead. It was harder to delve into his magical senses while he was in hylian form. In his fairy form, it was natural and automatic to reach out with his magic and sense things around him. As he was now, it took more concentration. 

Carefully, he let his magic unfold. It danced curiously around him, reaching out instinctively to investigate the unfamiliar feeling of this era. The first thing he noticed about the ambient magic of this era was that it was bright. It wasn’t any more powerful than the magic from his own time but it was much more concentrated. In his era, the magic was old. It seeped into the ground, the water, the air, and permeated the entire world with magical energy. 

Here, the magic swirled in the air, concentrating in certain places. Some things were magical, with power pooling inside of them, while others had no magic at all.  Hyrule had thought that his era came before the Champion’s, but it seemed as if the magic here was younger. “Younger” was the best way Hyrule could think of to describe it.

He could feel Kaysa’s magic as well. She was the largest magical presence in the area, almost overwhelming everything else. Her magic sparked on Hyrule’s tongue, sharp pops of lightning dancing along his nerves, followed by the soothing taste of sweet floral tea laying heavy on his tongue. 

Kaysa’s magic was bright, and heavy, and young, just like the magic of her era. Despite her great age in comparison to a hylian’s lifespans, Kaysa was so very young in comparison to the Great Mothers of Hyrule’s time.

Tiny glowing dots of pink and blue flickered about the clearing. Those were the little fairies. Some danced around the flowers in the clearing, while others burrowed into their Mother’s hair. There were several fairies hovering around one of the other heroes. When Hyrule focused on who they were flocking around, he could feel the honey-sweet forest magic that perpetually hung around Time. He couldn't blame the fairies for being attracted to the magic. Time’s magic was intriguing even in Hyrule’s hylian form. When he was in fairy form, he could forget himself and find himself drifting closer to the sweet magic. 

Thankfully, the only time he ever took up his other form around the others was when they were asleep. So if he found himself floating closer to the old man without realizing it, no one was awake to see his glow turn a flustered pink around the edges in embarrassment. 

“Sister! Sister!” The strangely accented, high-pitched voice startled Hyrule out of his meditation. His eyes snapped open, his magic withdrawing into himself in an instant. His mind snapped back into his body, physical sensations flooding back to him. The sensation shocked him for a moment as he adjusted. The clearing had changed since he went under. It was much darker now, and the warmth had nearly completely leached out of the rocks. It was quieter, also.

He sat up with a groan, his muscles protesting. A blanket that hadn’t been there before pooled around his waist. Hyrule recognized it as Four’s. The smith must have returned at some point, and draped a blanket over Hyrule, thinking he was asleep. 

He looked around, finding almost all of the others were asleep. Legend had fallen asleep hugging his sword- sheathed, thankfully- which Hyrule stifled a snicker at. Four had stretched out next to where Sky and Wind had fallen asleep in a pile, and was using Sky’s sailcloth to replace the blanket he’d given Hyrule. Wild had laid out his bedroll next to Warriors, and Wolfie was stretched out over the pair’s feet. 

The only one who was still awake was Time. He sat next to Sky, Wind, and Four’s puppy pile. Hyrule felt a swell of affection to see Time was humoring the fairies that curiously flocked to him, letting them inspect his hair and admire themselves in the reflection of the armor he was polishing.

His attention was abruptly drawn away from Time when he again heard what had awoken him. “Sorry! Sorry!” One of the little fairies chimed, hovering in front of his face. This one was a pastel purple color, which was slightly unusual. Pink and Blue were more common. Her accent was very strange, with a lilt to her words that the fairies in his era didn't have. None of the fairies here seemed to have a problem with speaking loudly, either. Fairies in his era would speak softly in fear of discovery by monsters, but those that lived here didn’t seem to have that problem. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your meditation!” She continued.

Another fairy tugged demandingly on his hair. “Why did you stop?” 

“We want to feel your magic, sister!” 

“Why did you hide it away again?” 

Hyrule grinned at the excitement from his little sisters but made sure to keep his voice low in courtesy to the other heroes who were sleeping. “Sorry. It’s hard to reach out like that in this form.” He held up a hand, and the purple fairy quickly claimed the perch his fingers offered. 

Then came the demand he knew would come. “Then change your form!” 

“Fly with us!” They made it sound like such a simple thing to do. 

“Girls! Let him be.” A much louder voice echoed through the clearing, causing many of the little fairies to lift off him, fluttering away at the order of their Mother. Only the one that perched on his finger stubbornly stayed. Hyrule habitually winced at the familiar reprimanding tone, even though he knew it wasn’t aimed at him.

He would have worried about the volume rousing the heroes who were asleep, but he knew it wouldn’t. The language of the fairies was mostly lost on hylians. Hyrule didn’t know if the sounds were simply too high pitched for hylian ears to even pick up on, or if some type of magic kept it from being understood. Either way, the only thing hylians could usually pick up from the fairy’s language was a pretty chiming sound. Hyrule had always been able to hear it though, even in his hylian form. A perk of his heritage, he supposed. 

The Great Mother’s voice finally drew his attention away from the little fairies towards the center of the clearing, where the Fountain lay. Although most of the other heroes were asleep, Kaysa was still leaning casually on the edge of her fountain. She had eyes only for him, now. When she saw him looking at her, she smiled kindly. 

“Will you come speak to me now?” She called out. Hyrule glanced around. The rest of the heroes remained asleep, and Time remained focused on his armor. The chimes of her voice blended in the background noise of the clearing, and as long as he spoke quietly, no one should notice him talking with the Great Mother. 

He slowly stood, stretching out his stiff leg muscles. He carefully picked his way across the clearing. When he finally stood in front of her, she leaned down, inspecting him closely. “Hello, little cousin! Oh, aren't you special?” Kaysa stretched out a hand, parallel to the ground. Used to this gesture from other Great Mothers he had come across in his time, Hyrule sat in the palm of her hand, letting her lift him to be level with her face. As he was lifted, the purple fairy perched on his hand fluttered off, letting him place his hands down on Kaysa’s palm to steady himself. 

As Kaysa inspected Hyrule with her eyes, Hyrule could feel her magic reach out to encircle him. She had respectfully kept from inspecting him before, but she didn’t hold back now.

The feeling of the Great Mother’s magic enveloping him was impossible to miss, even if he wasn’t usually able to sense magic without meditation in his hylian form. Even those who had no magical abilities, such as Wild or Warriors, would be able to sense it. The feeling of a Great Mother’s attention focused solely on him nearly blinded him for a moment before Kaysa pulled her magic away. “A bit too much when you're in that form, is it?” She said with a guilty smile. 

Hyrule only smiled back at her. He couldn't stretch out his magic in quite the way needed to respond to her greeting while he was in this form, so he gave her a little wave in greeting. That made her coo at him. “So cute, little cousin! I haven’t seen one like you in many, many years.” Hyrule’s ears flushed bright red at the compliment, drawing a giggle from Kaysa. 

“Why do you not take your other form? Is it not polite to greet me with a form in which you can speak my language?” 

Hyrule squeaked. “I meant no offense!” He hurried to assure her, eyes widening at the thought he might have upset one of the Great Mothers, even a young one such as Kaysa. But she only laughed, waving her other hand dismissively. 

“I only jest! But in all seriousness, why do you not shift?” 

Hyrule relaxed at her laughter, but tensed up again at the thought of shifting right now. He couldn't do it now, not with the feeling of a single curious eye burning into his back. ”I can’t right now. They don’t know-” He cut himself off. He wasn’t the only one awake right now, and while Time couldn’t understand Kaysa’s speech, he could understand Hyrule’s. He would have to watch what he said. “They… don’t know.”

Kaysa frowned. Hyrule squirmed unhappily, patting Kaysa’s palm reassuringly. He hated seeing any of the Great Mothers upset. “Why not? Is it not a great gift?” 

Hyrule smiled ruefully at that. “It is. Hylians can react strangely to things like that.” Kaysa’s gaze flickered over to where Twilight was sleeping in wolf form. He’d shifted from where he'd been laid over Wild and Warriors’ feet to nearly smothering Warriors in his sleep. 

Kaysa turned her eyes back to Hyrule. “You are not the only one who holds a transformation ability in this group.” Hyrule shrugged. 

She wasn’t wrong. In the end, no one had seemed to mind that Twilight could turn into a wolf, but it hadn’t always been like that. He remembered Four’s distrust of Twilight’s transformation magic. He remembered how weirdly Wind had acted around Twilight after Wolfie had been revealed, and the fun Warriors made of Twilight's abilities. They didn’t act that way anymore, but the memories of when they did and Hyrule’s own previous experience from his own era made him wary of sharing what he was with the other heroes. 

Kaysa hummed, eyeing him consideringly. Eventually, she smiled gently, lifting her other hand carefully to brush away his curly bangs from his eyes. “Will you come fly with my daughters after the Hero of Time goes to sleep?” Hyrule nodded at her eagerly. It had been so long since he had had the time to fly with other fairies. Kaysa smiled, then gently set him back down. 

The moment Hyrule had settled firmly on the ground again, the fairies flocked back around him. This time, Kaysa allowed them to investigate him as much as they liked.

Hyrule sank to the ground, letting his little sisters climb on him. They chirped at him, vocalizing wordlessly to show their excitement and happiness. The same purple-colored fairy from before fluttered up to his hand, settling down on it once again. Another one of them climbed under the collar of Hyrule’s tunic, and he giggled at the ticklish feeling of her wings fluttering against his shoulder.

“Traveler?” Hyrule was startled at the sound of Hylian speech. He’d forgotten for a moment that he wasn’t the only one awake. Twisting around, he gazed up at Time. The old man had stood from where he had finished his armor upkeep.

Time only smiled gently. “No need to look so startled. I only wanted to let you know I’m going to head to bed. Don’t stay up too late.” Hyrule didn’t like the knowing gleam in the old man’s eye. He was suddenly reminded of the incident weeks ago, when Hyrule had almost been caught by Time in his fairy form. Since then, Hyrule had been very careful around Time when he shifted into his other form, even though he only did that when everyone was asleep.

Time hadn’t acted any differently around Hyrule afterwards. He hadn’t paid any more attention to Hyrule after the incident than he had before. So Hyrule had tentatively let himself hope that Time didn't realize the green fairy he’d seen that night had been Hyrule.

Now though, Time’s gaze was knowing in a way that made Hyrule squirm. 

He stared at Time wondering if the old man was going to say something about it for so long that Time raised an eyebrow at him. Hyrule blinked. “Oh, right! Um, good night, Time.” He turned back around, hunching over the fairies in his hands until he heard Time set up his bedroll and settle down into it. Only then did he relax.

He shuddered. Did Time know? Was he just pretending that he hadn’t seen Hyrule? If so, why? Was Hyrule just overthinking things? Uggh…. This is why Hyrule liked to travel alone. He didn’t understand hylians. Fairies were much more blunt. They spoke their mind, and did so without reserve. Even the Great Mothers were blunt with their speech. They had no patience with minced words and dancing around the point.

Hyrule wished he could do that as well. Things would probably be easier for him if he could unabashedly speak his mind. It was his hylian blood that made him watch his words so carefully. He’d met plenty of shy fairies in the past, but none of them had ever been timid with what they said like he was.

“Sister, sister!” For the second time that night, the purple fairy drew his attention away from his inner thoughts. “The hylian heroes are all asleep now! Come fly with us! Come on, come on!” 

Hyrule looked around, carefully eyeing each of the other heroes. None of them so much as twitched, except for Wild, who only cuddled further into Wolfie’s fur. Time seemed to have fallen asleep quickly with an arm thrown over his eyes to block out the light of the Fountain. 

Hyrule normally left wherever they happened to be camping for the night if he wanted to shift into his other form. If he didn’t, he ran the risk of waking someone up with the light the transformation generated, or someone not actually being asleep and seeing him transform.

Now though, he could see everyone clearly in the light from the fountain, and they all looked sound asleep. That same light would help camouflage his transformation. It would only take a second and then he would just be another fairy in the crowd. He shrugged. Once couldn’t hurt, right?

He relaxed, letting his magic surge up around him and change his shape into his other form. After a few moments, all that was left was a fairy. He’s green, and a little bigger than normal, but unremarkable besides that, hard to pick out in the throng. 

His sisters flocked around him, greeting him eagerly with kisses on the cheek and enthusiastic hugs. Tiny pinpricks of energy danced along his skin as those who couldn’t get close enough to hug reached out with their magic to greet him. A second warning call from Kaysa made them back off, and he had a moment to readjust to the world.

The night air seemed so much more alive than before. When he had been hylian, the night had seemed stagnant, lit up only by the light of the Fountain, and the faint stars above. Now he was fully connected with the magic of the world, in a way hylians could never be. Once again he could sense all the magic he’d sensed when he had been meditating, but now it was without effort or without sacrificing his other senses. It came to him as easily as breathing. 

The night seemed so much more colorful. He could actually see Kaysa’s magic, not just sense it. It danced in the air and snaked towards him as she reached out, once again greeting him. Now, her magic wasn't overwhelming, but warm and welcoming, and it was only natural to reach out with his own to greet her magically, and physically as he fluttered over to her. 

She offered a hand for him to perch on, which he took. He was quickly joined by many of his sisters. They were so much smaller than the Great Mother, all of the fairies in the clearing could have sat on her hand with room to spare. The one who sat nearest to him was once agona the lavender fairy

She grinned at him, bearing the sharp teeth that all fairies had. (Fairies, Hyrule knew from experience, could have a very mean bite.) Now that he wasn’t in his hylian form, it was much easier to see her. He wasn’t blinded by her glow anymore, and could easily make out her form. She had seemed small when he was in a Hylian form, and that hadn’t changed. She was nearly a head and a half shorter than him, but that didn’t deter her from meeting his gaze head on with intense purple eyes. She had short black curls, and wore a short and fluffy off-white gown, a blue ribbon tied around her waist.

“Hello! What are you called?” The chime was missing from her voice now, though she still had that strange lilting accent that seemed to be standard for fairies of this era. 

“Hi!” Hyrule grins back. “I’m called Hyrule. What about you?” 

She shrugged, reaching out and tugging experimentally on his tunic, which was the same as his normal one, but shrunk to fit his current body. “I’m still new. I don’t have one yet!” She seemed unbothered by this fact. “I like your clothes. They’re very strange!” 

Kaysa spoke up then. “I haven't found a name I like for her yet. She’s a special little one, she needs a perfect name, and I haven't found just the right one yet.” Hyrule could sense Kaysa’s obvious favoritism, but didn’t point it out. It didn’t mean they loved the rest of their children any less, but the Great Mothers often have favorites. 

“Oh, Oh!” She exclaimed. “You’ve been traveling around a lot, right? You must know some interesting names then! Can you give me one?” Hyrule blinked. Names held power, and for this fairy to freely ask him to name her… 

He choked up a bit but was finally able to get out, “Only if your Mother allows it.”

Kaysa hummed, obviously amused with the purple fairy’s antics, but humoring her. “You can suggest a name, if you’d like, and I’ll decide if I approve.” 

Hyrule froze, now suddenly pinned under the purple fairy’s expectant stare. His brain froze for a moment, put on the spot as he desperately told himself not to blurt out the first name of that cake to mind. “Um-”

“Take your time,” Kaysa cooed, “Names are very important. Try and pick a good one.” They both seemed content to wait while he thought. The first thought that came to mind was Purple, as he’d been referring to her as ‘the purple fairy’ since he’d first seen her. She was indeed purple, but he couldn’t name her that! Lavender, Lilac, and Amethyst all came to mind as options, but she had specifically requested an exotic name, and he knew both of those flowers and that kind of gem existed in this era. 

As he thought, the glimmer of the unnamed fairy’s wings caught his eye. They were purple, but the veins running through them were a shining gold color. The color combination reminded him of another purple flower from his era that he hadn't seen growing here: the Iris. 

Hyrule knew the names of most of the plants that grew in his era. It was a part of being a survivalist. Normally, though, he didn’t pay much attention to flowers that didn’t have medicinal uses. Irises were one such plant. The only use for it Hyrule had ever heard of was inducing vomiting if you had accidentally injected poison, but other plants could get you the same result easier. It was more of a last-ditch opinion if there was nothing else you could use.

However, Irises were Dawn’s favorite flower. The royal gardens in his era weren’t the most impressive he had seen. The gardens- gardens! more than one!- in Warriors’ era were amazing, so big he could nearly get lost in them. In comparison, his princesses’ small garden seemed rather sparse, but when Irises came into season it turned into a riot of blues, purples, pinks, and golds. He always made a point to try and visit the castle at that time. 

Not only that, but both Princesses favored a type of perfume made from the ground-up petals. The scent of the beautiful plant had become a comfort to him since his adventures had ended. The scent meant safety and friends. Mrs. Malon had a few of the plants blooming in front of her house when they had last visited Lon Lon Ranch, and Hyrule had spent a good amount of time sitting out on the front porch and enjoying them. 

He finally spoke. “How about Iris?”

“What’s that mean?” The purple fairy asked curiously. 

“It’s a kind of flower that grows where I come from. I haven’t seen any since I’ve come here though.”

“What’s it look like?” Hyrule, used to the constant curious barrage of questions from the fairies of his own era, wasn’t the slightest bit fazed by her constant inquiries. 

“They’re normally a deep purple color with white around the middle, but they can come in yellow, blue, and pink as well. They smell amazing, and hylians even grind them up sometimes to put into perfumes.”

The small fairy hummed. “Well, I like it. What about you, Mother?”

“Iris…” The syllables were carefully sounded out as Kaysa closed her eyes, considering the name. Hyrule waited nervously for her judgment. When she opened her eyes, she smiled at him. 

“It’s an excellent name, little cousin.”

The fairy sitting next to him rocked eagerly at her approval. “Can I have it then, Mother? I love it! Please, please, please? She was so kind to give it to me, please can I have it?” Hyrule could tell Kaysa was going to give in before she did, and wasn’t surprised when she nodded indulgently at the little fairy. 

The newly christened Iris squealed. She fluttered up off her Mother’s hand and flew a loop around her head in excitement. When Iris landed on Kaysa’s hand again she was breathless and seemed to glow just that little bit brighter in pride. A pink fairy who’d been sitting on Kaysa’s shoulder and watching the whole affair huffed. “I want a name from her too! It’s not fair that she only gave one to Iris.”

“You already have a name, Sana, and it’s a perfectly fine one.” Kaysa chided. Sana huffed but was quickly distracted from her irritation, and flew off into the flock of fairies dancing in the air.

Iris laughed at Sana, taking off from her Mother's hand and tugging Hyrule to come along with her. “Come on, I want to tell everyone I’ve got a name now!” 

Hyrule thought for a moment. There was no need for him to go check on the other heroes like he usually did. The other fairies had taken care of all scrapes and bumps the other heroes had carried when the group had first entered the clearing, and the ambient magic from the fountain managed to soothe away any bad memories or troubled sleep. All of them were sleeping soundly. 

Happily, he relented, letting Iris grab his hand and pull him into the air.

~~~ 

“Where’d Hyrule go?” The sound of his name slowly drew Hyrule out of his deep, comforting sleep. He stretched, and took a moment to process that he was still in his fairy form. He was resting in the middle of one of the flowers that grew close to the side of the fairy fountain. The flower was bathed in the warm magic that radiated from the Fountain and the Great Mother who inhabited it, making it a perfect spot to nap.

“He can’t have gone far, I’m sure he’ll return soon.” Time’s voice rang out through the clearing, causing Hyrule to sigh lightly and pull himself up to a seated position. As much as he would like to slip back into sweet sleep, he had to leave before he worried the others.  

Iris was curled up next to him, still sleeping soundly. He let her be, leaving her to her rest as he carefully stepped out onto one of the flower petals. He shook out his wings, stretching out their muscles. After a moment, he took off, wings beating lazily.

It would be better to slip out of the clearing unnoticed now, and change back before the other heroes became too worried about where he had gone.

As he fluttered out of the clearing, he didn’t notice the single eye tracking his path out of the clearing, and he missed the small smile that crossed Time’s face.

[pure-ablution]

Can you talk about the exercises/sports you do?

I’d be glad to!

I don’t do every single one of these classes every day, so although it looks like quite a lot, it really isn’t as much as it seems. I’m a very active sort of person, I always have been, and I like to have at least one exercise class booked for each day of the week, but almost all of them are low-impact and focus on precision and awareness in movement, grace and flexibility, and bodily control. These are the exercises and sports that work best for me and give me the physical and mental results I like best, but you can take whatever is helpful to you from this list. I’m happy to talk about any of the exercises I do in more detail if you’re interested, just send another ask or message me privately.

0–5–45. This is my adaptation of the very popular treadmill workout, and I do it every single day as soon as I arrive at the gym. I’ve adapted it to have 0% incline because I find that inclines build up my legs too much, I’ve sped it up to 5 mph (8 kmph) because I like a brisk powerwalk, and I do it for 45 minutes instead of 30 because 30 just isn’t a challenge for me anymore. I love this little workout because it doesn’t require any thought so early in the morning, it’s low impact but it still warms me up and gets me going, and it helps maintain my preferred body fat percentage without building unwanted muscle and requiring a lot of undue effort.

Resistance workouts. I like to switch these up so that I don’t get bored, but every day after the treadmill, I like to do some combination of a workout with calisthenic and resistance-based exercises. I avoid purposeful ab workouts because I don’t want to build up my waist accidentally—the only exercise I really do for my abs are stomach vacuums and nauli kriya—but aside from that, pretty much anything goes. Using a resistance band helps me improve my flexibility as well as my strength, and bodyweight exercises build up my strength without overloading or bulking up any of my muscles. My workout usually lasts about 20–30 minutes and I tried to find a single video demonstrating what I do, but I couldn’t find one—it’s basically just a random mixture each day of calisthenics and resistance bands.

Stretching. Stretching my muscles properly isn’t exactly an exercise or a sport per se, but it’s definitely the most important aspect of my workout routine so I’m going to include it here. Improving and maintaining my flexibility, especially as I grow older, is very important to me, and stretching not only keeps my joints and muscles supple, but it also helps to keep my muscles long and lean instead of short and bulky. I’m hypermobile and so I have my own stretching routine which gives me the proper deep stretch that my body needs whilst maintaining good joint support—it’s based on the stretches and exercises I was taught to do when I trained in rhythmic gymnastics as a child. Again, I mix it up, but you can find basically every stretch and exercise I do amongst the videos on this playlist.

Weightlifting. I only started weightlifting relatively recently, and I have to admit that I’m still a bit hesitant about it, but it’s definitely given me much more of a rounded figure and boosted my natural shape—my butt looks a million and one times better now! I really don’t like the typical ‘strong curves’ kind of look and it just doesn’t suit me, so I stick to using very low weights and high repetitions to build strength without overly increasing my muscle volume. Weightlifting has helped improve my shoulder strength in particular, which was always a huge issue for me, and it’s helped to better sculpt my arms and lift my butt better than any other exercises I do. I try to do an hour of weightlifting every evening after I’ve finished with my things to do that day, and I focus mostly on my form and ensuring that I execute each exercise correctly for the best impact. I do things slowly and carefully, and I think that it’s this super-slow pace and precision that’s given me the results I like best, because it still really tests my muscles and pushes me further each time without overloading anything.

Ballet. Ballet is the one dance that I’m totally devoted to. I’ve been in ballet classes since I was 2 years old—so almost 20 years now—and I just love it, it does wonders for my body and for my sense of physical grace. Since starting at uni, I’ve gone down to one class a week with one extra conditioning class on a Saturday, and although it’s nowhere near enough for me to be considered a ‘serious’ ballerina, it fits into my schedule and allows me to keep up my skills to a reasonable degree. I’ve always studied ballet with the Vaganova Method, and again, this has really emphasised the importance of precision and lightness in the way I dance and move in my everyday life. Ballet has given me the most overall control over my body and the way I move, I think, out of everything I do, and it’s taught me the importance of discipline and routine when it comes to looking after your health.

Ballroom/Latin dancing. I switch this one up much, much more because it’s not so serious for me. I love social and partnered dancing, and I’m lucky in that the ballroom and Latin dance classes near me allow me to switch up each week and not remain loyal to one single dance or style. Partnered dancing, for me, is about knowing the right dances in the right circumstances, and connecting with your body and your partner’s body, and that’s what my classes give me, nothing more and nothing less. Alajos is much better than me in this respect because he’s always danced much more seriously than I have, but I love going out for our weekly dance class together and perfecting the steps of a foxtrot or samba. Both ballroom and Latin social dance styles help most with tapping into sensuality and understanding how your body can relate to another in the context of music, and they’ve given me a lot to work with in terms of body language and physical social skills.

Traditional folk dancing. This is much more informal and I don’t take classes in it anymore, although I used to, when I lived back home. Nowadays, me and a few other girls set up an informal folk dancing troupe and we teach one another our native dances, it’s just something fun and silly and we only meet up every couple of weeks or so, but it helps us keep in touch with our roots and traditions, I think. I like folk dancing in particular because not only is it fun and lively, but it also really exaggerates the difference between the sexes and the nature of femininity, so in that way, you can learn a bit more about how your ancestors might have thought women ought to behave and move, and water this down for your everyday life. It’s interesting and strangely anthropological in that sense, and some folk dances in particular place a huge emphasis on facial expressions in dance, which I like—it’s a fun and helpful change from focusing mostly on the body, and enables you to gain control over your facial muscles, too.

Rhythmic gymnastics. This used to be the bane of my life when I was a child, but I’m grateful for it now. RG probably evokes some traumatic response for most, if not all, post-Soviet girls out there, and I’m no exception. I’ve done rhythmic gymnastics for as long as I’ve done ballet, but I don’t do it nearly as frequently now because I’m much older and I was never especially amazing at it in the first place. I mostly help out with teaching younger girls these days, work on my flexibility in my free time, and go back to training briefly but intensively if I’m going in for a student competition or something—I take conditioning classes more often than I actually train in gymnastics now. At this point, it’s more about my flexibility and strength than anything else, and I can’t name a sport which has better improved my flexibility to almost freakish levels than gymnastics.

Reformer pilates. I take reformer classes twice a week at the studio near me, and I like it a lot, although I think that mat pilates gives much more potential for a harder and more advanced workout. The nice thing about the reformer is that it adds some resistance to my workout, and my studio offers both traditional reformer classes and ‘power’ classes which seem to be more of a mix between pilates and strength training, with a heavy focus on form and posture. The power classes have helped me hugely with my understanding of form in weightlifting especially, and the traditional classes allow me to stretch my muscles deeply and in ways that are more difficult to do without the help of equipment. I also really like reformer pilates as a rehabilitation exercise if I’m recovering from an injury, because the reformer offers a lot of support, better enables isolated exercises, and you can take it as gently and as slowly as you need.

Mat pilates. My studio offers a classical mat pilates class and I take it twice a week. Pilates these days seems to be associated more with aerobic exercise, but traditional pilates focuses much more on posture and functional movement, and our classes follow the original method of Joseph Pilates and a few of his students, though my instructor isn’t super rigid about this and likes to teach us the history and development of pilates when we’re exercising. Classical mat pilates uses only a few exercises in a very specific sequence, and I could probably skip my classes and just do it at home if I wanted, but I like my instructor’s commentary and the way that she pushes us to stretch and strengthen much further each time we go. I’ve tried contemporary mat classes, too, and they definitely ‘feel’ harder because they get my heart rate elevated much more, but I prefer the classical method because of its focus on detailed, precise movement and correct posture, and how it seems to work each muscle of my whole body.

Qigong/tai chi. I take one qigong class and one tai chi class each week, and I really love them for their meditative focus and how they allow me to feel so much more in-touch and in-control of my body. Qigong is a set of exercises purely for health purposes, and focuses a lot on very slow, intentional movement along with breathing and internal awareness. I like it better than tai chi; it gives me a strange but very beneficial, almost spiritual sort of awareness of my body that I haven’t experienced with any other exercise. Tai chi falls under the bracket of qigong but it’s actually a martial art, although my instructor leans away from the grappling aspect of the art and prefers its interpretation as a low-impact and mindful exercise. In my experience, tai chi is a little more mentally draining, and helps a lot with understanding intention and resolve in thought and movement, as well as improving my posture and reflexes.

Barre. Barre is simply a workout style derived from ballet conditioning classes, and it’s intended for fitness rather than any kind of grace or bodily awareness. I like it, because the small, precise movements help to tone my body in the way I like, and it’s more of an aerobic exercise and cardio workout than most of the other exercises I do, but I would recommend that you find an instructor with a ballet background and avoid any of the chain/branded barre classes—in my opinion and experience, they only really teach bad habits and poor form whilst bulking up the leg muscles, and aren’t much in themselves beyond a bit of weighted pilates. My instructor combines traditional barre exercises with floor-barre workouts, and the classes are designed in a way that’s thoughtful and fitness-intentioned without inadvertently hurting or hindering actual dancers. Proper, well-informed barre classes will help you a lot with improving aerobic fitness, stamina, and awareness of individual muscles, without bulking you up unnecessarily or accidentally damaging your joints and muscles.

Step aerobics. This is super ’80s but I love the step aerobics class at my gym, I’m the youngest there by about 30 years but I don’t really care because it’s fun and it gives me results. My instructor keeps it low-impact, there are no jumps or jogging required, and it’s just a really fun way for me to get in some cardio without it feeling like a chore. I don’t think that step gives me serious physical results in any way, but I do it mostly for my heart health and overall fitness and stamina, and it definitely helps in that respect without building up my muscles in the slightest. You could definitely do step aerobics at home if you wanted—I do it sometimes if I haven’t been able to book onto my usual class, using one of Jane Fonda’s old video workouts—but I like the social aspect of it and the silliness. It’s important to keep sport fun, I think, and I look forward to my step classes every week.

Callanetics. This is another super ’80s workout but it’s one that actually does give physical results, in my opinion. Callanetics tightens up my body in a way that I think is quite unique, and it works really fast. It works with repetitions of small movements and isometric exercises, and was developed from classical ballet conditioning classes. It’s super boring because you don’t really do anything major, and you don’t feel as though you’re working out, but whatever it is, it definitely works in some capacity and I really notice if I haven’t been keeping up with my schedule! Callanetics just seem to draw you inwards somehow, as though someone’s taken the strings and pulled them tightly—my waist seems much, much tighter, my legs are sculpted and shapely, and my butt and breasts are lifted upwards. This is one of those workouts which needs precision in form and movement, so if you can find a class near you, then I recommend going for at least a few sessions to make sure that you’re doing each exercise correctly. Otherwise, use a mirror and the original books and videos.

Gyrotonics. This is a bit esoteric, but my ballet instructor recommended that I start taking gyrotonic classes for my posture and range of movement, and they actually work wonders. It’s not easy to find a gyrotonic class because it requires specialist training and equipment, but if you do find one, then I really recommend that you go. It’s sort of like classical reformer pilates in 3D, if that makes any kind of sense, and focuses on enhancing your spinal movement in every direction whilst simultaneously building up functional strength and muscle tone. I take a gyrotonic class every few weeks or so just to realign myself and remind my body of its proper skeletal positioning, and I think it’s worked wonders for my posture, flexibility, and joint support. I don’t dislocate my joints anywhere near as frequently anymore, and I can move much more supply and smoothly.

Somatics. Somatic techniques sound like total quackery and I think that some of them are, but others actually do work and help a lot with posture and bodily awareness. Things like the Alexander Technique aren’t complete snake oil, but they are relatively obscure and only really popular amongst dancers, actors, and musicians. I saw a posture therapist for almost a year and she drew upon the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, and other biomechanical theories to help me understand how posture isn’t only about spinal positioning but actually awareness and positioning of every joint, muscle, and nerve in your body. The exercises are very slow and meditative, and more internal than external, with a lot of focus on the training of the nervous and respiratory systems; they basically just teach your body, very slowly and methodically, the healthiest way of aligning itself within physical space, and teach you how to be aware of your body’s positioning so that you can notice and realign yourself when necessary. I’d recommend finding a serious teacher who isn’t some kind of witch doctor—one who works a lot with performing artists would probably be best. I don’t attend actual somatics classes anymore, but I still use a lot of the exercises and theory in my everyday life, and it really enhances my experience and results from the other exercises I do, like pilates.

Iyengar yoga. I’ve tried lots of different varieties of yoga but iyengar is my favourite by far. It has a lot less ‘flow’ than other types of yoga, and so can seem a bit disjointed or overly regimented at first, but I love its focus on detail and precision, and how it’s truly a taught class with exercises to take away and practise, instead of something looser and more intuitive. Iyengar is very intense, it’s more mentally than physically taxing because of its demands with precision, and focuses almost completely on perfecting alignment and technique, and it’s a favourite amongst the ballet dancers I know because of this—although actually, it’s accessible for almost anyone, and my class is mostly full of retirees. Iyengar was designed to rehabilitate and teach yoga to people with physical limitations, and it’s a regimented sort of system which makes you reliably strong over an extended and planned period of time.

Swimming. I love swimming so much, I’m a total waterbaby and I feel so happy in the water. Swimming is an excellent sport for pretty much anyone, I think, because you become almost weightless in the water and all of your joints are completely supported. It works out the whole body and you can take it as far or as little as you feel you need, and even the most poorly-coordinated body moves gracefully in water. I try to go swimming for a couple of hours each week, and I prefer swimming in the lake or river near me, but if it’s too cold or polluted then I use the pool at my gym centre. I’ve been swimming for as long as I can remember; I grew up next to the Caspian Sea and every child in my town could swim before they started at school. I don’t take any classes or anything like that anymore, I just turn up and swim lengths until my time is up, and I think that swimming is a skill that everyone should learn because you never know when you’ll need it. It’s a perfect entry sport for people who are unfit or embarrassed about how they look or move, and I’d recommend signing up for a few adult classes if you feel in any way unsure or worried about your safety in the water.

[nebulabasket]

Neopronoun Idea: Pet Name Neos

Maybe this is a terrible idea, but here me out. So, when I was laying in bed trying to sleep, I was instead thinking of my OC Frosting (he/they/cake), and was specifically trying to think if there was anymore neopronouns he might use. One of the ones I thought of was sweetself pronouns, but it reminded me of the pet name "sweetie" and seem like it might only be appropriate for his fiancé to call him.

But, in the context of pet names, I honestly thought that would be super cute. For a partner to be able to use pet names in place of pronouns, kind of like nameself pronouns for lovers specifically. So, I workshopped the idea a bit until I ended up with something I thought sounded and looked good in use, was easy for me to say out loud and type, followed a consistent theme, etc., and I ended up with sweetie/sugar/hon's/hon's/honself (of course also made with specifically Frosting and cake's fiancé in mind). Here is an example of how it sounds in use:

This is my fiancé, Frosting, and sweetie will be joining us today, so make sure to give sugar a warm welcome. While Frosting finds a seat for honself, could someone please fetch sugar hon's book? The extra book in the cabinet by the pens should be hon's. Go ahead and give it to sugar so sweetie can follow along.

I think it's great. I feel like it sounds like it's all talking about the same person, it sounds good in use, it looks good in use, it rolls off the tongue, it's intuitive in context, it's not too bulky, and it doesn't even get too repetitive sounding when pronouns need to be used in succession. Plus, I think it's kind of cute for a couple and doesn't sound too outlandish or unusual in casual settings, so could kind of be discreet neopronouns. I wouldn't ever use it for myself since I'm apothiromantic, though I think it's a neat idea for some of my OCs and potentially some real people, too. You don't even have to use the same pet names I did here; feel free to personalize. What do y'all think? Is this stupid and pointless or cute and useful?

~ 🍭 Cyannide Lolypop 🍭

[snow-lavender]

Re-watching OSP's Trope Talk: Those Dang Phones and having Fable Thoughts TM

If you haven't seen the video, go watch it, it's really good. In it, Red breaks down how the technology of a certain time influences what its contemporary writers think of as normal, possible, and impossible. It looks at the sudden popularity of magic smartphones in fantasy and sci-fi and goes from there, looking at a century of stories. Again, go watch it, it's really good and this rant won't make much sense without that background. But I think there's something related that Fable SMP exemplifies that's also really interesting.

So everybody in Fable has a cellphone. They call it a communicator (because it descends from a larger mcyt fanon but that's a whole other rant) but it's a cellphone for all intents and purposes. Every character can communicate through instant text and audio calls. If they need to fly away and retrieve something, continuing a conversation is rationalized in-universe by turning on comms. The whole village is in a group chat, and has some of the same culture around that that exists in real life (mainly, panicking when you send what was supposed to be a DM publicly, or complaining about repetitive pings). Like Red's thesis in the video states, this is a reflection of what technology is normal to the cast.

But something else that carries over is the timeline of technological development that the cast considers normal. Because while every character has a cellphone that they use regularly, none of their parents do.

Whenever part of the previous generation's story is revealed, this technology isn't a part of it. Any communication between the characters is non-digital. Soul and Isla communicate through written letters. Enderian travels to the Nether to talk to Soul in person. All of Wolf's war reports are handwritten and, presumably, delivered by messengers. Even Ven's propaganda, while reproduced on a mass scale, is physical. The previous generation didn't have the same access to digital communication as their children do.

This is reflective of technological development in the real world. We've made leaps and strides in communication in recent decades. What used to be a fantasy of the elite is now accessible to nearly everyone on the planet. We don't communicate the same way our parents did.

People our age witnessed huge changes in communication from early childhood. I think we all grew up hearing grandparents and even parents talk about how bulky, complicated, and limited phones and computers used to be. When I was six, we still had a tape deck in the car and a record player at my Omoe and Opa's. My parents didn't get their first cellphones until well after I was born. Now everybody has Spotify on a touchscreen the size of three large crackers. It's not at the forefront of people's minds, but I think witnessing that in your key developmental years sticks with you.

So this major change was folded into what the writers thought of as normal too. Not only is it "Of course everyone has instant communication over distance," it's "Of course their parents didn't have that."

(And, if I can be cynically critical for a second, it does introduce a kind of crazy timeline of development in-universe. Like, my parents didn't have cells as teens, but they had faxes and landlines and shit. Isla didn't even have a telegraph.

TO BE CLEAR: I'm not saying this is a mark of bad worldbuilding. Haley and Sherbert made a normal low-tech fantasy world for the backstory and pulled from what they were used to for the present story. This sort of reflection of reality that Red talks about is unconscious, that's the whole bit. It's just a little silly if you think about it too hard.)

Anyway, I think it's interesting how fiction mirrors not just our present but our history. I'm interested to see how this sort of carryover develops. Gen-Z storytelling is still pretty relegated to social media and indie projects. I can't wait to see how the mediascape changes as our perspectives make their way into the mainstream. In the meantime though, I'll just sit over here thinking way harder than the cast intended about my beloved little cube people.

[smallraindrops-blog]

I Know A Place

(just for you and me)

WMFTD: Drabbles

WMFTD!Y/N X Hypnos

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, AUs out of the wazoo, no beta.

Notes: 

More vibes that wouldn’t leave me alone. Something to hold over while I work on the poly fic that is quickly growing out of my control. Pyrrhus fic should be out soonish.

Enjoy the randomness.

Part one

Model (Sapphic AU)

The first time you saw her, it was on the cover of a glossy magazine in the grocery store. 

She didn’t look like a real person. The girl was all soft, tousled curls, so white they looked like clouds and a teasing glimpse of an elegant collarbone. Her expression was thoughtful, almost pouty with those full lips.

In a moment of pure teenage fantasy, you wondered how her mouth would feel against yours. She was far too pretty for some awkward high school jock in basketball shorts who felt far too bulky and too tall in her own body. 

But you could pretend. 

With a flush clawing up your neck, you allowed yourself to look again. She was a dream girl, one that not even your imagination could have created. 

The only obvious photoshopped part was her eyes. They looked like sun warmed honey. 

Surely, no human had eyes that golden.

Under her beautiful face, the words caught your attention.

‘Hypnos, daughter of the famous model Nyx, follows her mother’s footsteps!’ 

Without a single thought to stop yourself,you grabbed the magazine and held it close to your chest like a prize. One that you didn’t want to share. 

Carefully avoiding looking anyone in the eyes, you hurried to find your dad.

Achilles was murmuring to himself as he tried to remember which low-fat girl scout cookie that Patroclus had told him to get. You placed the magazine in the cart, trying to look completely normal.

Your dad blinked at you behind his glasses and he glanced down at the cart. There was a single beat of silence then he lifted an eyebrow at you.

“There is good skincare advice in there.” You murmured, staring far too hard at the store brand cookies. Your cheeks flushed hotly as you shoved your hands into your pockets.

“Skincare, huh?” Achilles said but didn’t tell you to put the magazine back. 

..

(Years later)

As a bodyguard for the rich and stupid, you had seen plenty of shit. 

From a drugged up housewife that tried her damndest to kill off her husband’s affairs to a washed up movie star who tried to steal his dad’s private plane as he yelled about flying it into the sun, you had gotten truly skilled with keeping a cool head and putting out fires.

Zagreus - a former pop-star client and a sort of friend- had informed you of the fact that you were the world's best babysitter as you helped him clean up the puke off his Father’s prized Tesla.

This might be too much for you however.

Hypnos was almost completely bare, saved for a single red blanket pooled over her breasts and lap, her slender legs pressed together to give a false sense of modesty. She was utterly gorgeous.

It was both the worst and best thing to ever happen to you. 

“Tilt your head up, really give me that pouty look.” The photographer ordered Hypnos, who obeyed, her infamous white curls brushing against her chin.

“I wish she didn’t cut her hair into a damn bob.” Her agent bitched at you. “I told her that we were trying to get a contract for Aphrodite’s maidens and she required her models to have a specific look.”

You ignored him, eyes locked on the photographer and Hypnos.

The blunt cut of the bob suited Hypnos’ messy curls and willowy figure far as you were concerned. Aphrodite’s models all looked like clones of Aphrodite with long, flowing hair and the exact lush build and the same plastic smile, and it kinda freaked you out a little. 

The idea of the unique beauty of Hypnos getting diluted into something boring and repetitive made your stomach hurt.

Crossing your arms, you kept a careful eye toward the door. It was a well kept secret but Hypnos had a stalker. Not an uncommon occurrence with famous people but this one had managed to break into her house before you were hired on.

If Thanatos hadn’t been there to scare them off…

It had only gotten worse since then. The stalker had managed to get every place that Hypnos ever been. Her childhood home, Thanatos’ high rise loft even into Nyx’s gated mansion in the mountains. Her agent’s office, her friends’ home or place of work.

Nowhere was safe. Hypnos always had adorable, sleepy eyes but there were deep shadows in them now.

That stalker was in for a world of hurt if you ever get your hands on him.

Later, you went through the safe house, checking each room and windows. The address was unlisted, no one would find it. The cameras were connected to your phone, ready to alert you the moment something moved outside.

“You don’t have to do this every time.” Hypnos told you, bare face and wearing an old shirt that went almost to her knees. One side slipped down as she came in, revealing a bare shoulder. Her socks were a ridiculous print of dogs riding French fries. It was adorable.

You had seen her in little black dresses, formal wear that cost more that you made in a year with perfect hair and makeup but somehow like this, she was far more lovelier now than she was all dolled up. 

It was far too easy to imagine taking her to bed and lifting that too big shirt off her delicate body. 

You killed the thought like a bug and after double checking the window’s lock, you turned to face her.

Honey warm eyes met yours. 

For the longest time, you had thought her eyes were photoshopped or that she wore contact lenses. Only you have seen how the morning rays hit it, you have seen the way her eyes lit up when she gets home to her beloved dog or how they dulled when on a phone call with her mother.

Pure and golden like the sun and undeniable real. 

“Better safe than sorry, Ms. Hypnos.” You told her, keeping your tone cool.

Hypnos tucked her hair behind her ear, blinking at you slowly. There was a moment of silence and you resisted the urge to shift on your feet like a guilty child.

Then finally, she gave you a shy smile, her slim fingers resting on her collarbone and nodded toward the living room. 

“I can’t sleep. Wanna watch a movie with me?”

You should say no. You always kept a professional wall between yourself and clients. It was easy. Hypnos had been able to slip past those walls with an unnerving ease

Just say no.

“Sure.” You replied. “Popcorn?”

~

Illness (modern au)

At first, Hypnos just thought he was exhausted from running around for all the holidays and the last days of work. By the time he got home, he had collapsed into bed, asleep before he could kiss you goodnight.

The next morning, he woke up to a stuffy nose. His whole face felt like it was burning up, the back of his throat hot and itchy. He moaned quietly, closing his somehow dry eyes. Everything hurts.

“Hypnos?” You croaked. It wasn’t the usual rough voice you woke up with, it was too reedy. Hypnos tried to respond but all that came out was a nasty cough. He covered his mouth as his fit continued.

He heard you murmuring a low swear, then your hands brushed against his too sensitive skin. You helped him sit up, rubbing his back until his fit stopped.

“I think we caught something, love.” You told him, your voice fading the more you spoke.

“Yay.” Hypnos muttered bitterly, leaning against you. He was lazy, sure but he hated being sick. It wasn’t a nice restful day but a horrible one.

At some point, you had managed to get him and you up enough to take some disgusting medicine then Hypnos collapsed into the pile of blankets on the pullout sofa. 

He listened to you moving around, somehow you also had just enough energy to make warm herbal tea for both you and him

Hypno blinked awake when you joined him, accepting the tea with a muttered ‘thanks’. 

“Gonna order some groceries and more medicine.” You told him in a faded voice. Hypnos nodded, sipping on his tea. He didn’t know if Patroclus taught you but somehow you always made tea taste just perfect. 

The day passed slowly in a haze of soup, coughing, more gross medicine - for real, do none of those people  who make the medicine have any taste buns?- trashy tv shows, balled up tissues and delicious tea.

Hypnos mocked the people and everything about the shows. his voice cracked and pathetic sounding. You would chuckle along, smiling faintly. Your large hand rested on his back, rubbing in gentle, smoothing circles as he ranted.

At some point, you dozed off, snoring quietly. Hypnos reached over, and tucked the blanket up higher to your chin. He snuggled in close, his head on your shoulder and took one of your hands in his.

With a contented sigh, Hypnos closed his tired eyes. If he had to be sick, he would want it to be with you. 

~

Kidnapped (Viking AU, dark tw for slavery)

The hearth casted a warm glow in the home, chasing away the nip of the chilly air. Snow will be arriving before the next sunrise. 

The day had been long, filled with duties that must be tended to along with plans for the future sails. Typically, you would mull over everything with a pint of ale and some dried meat before going to your bed alone, lingering awake for hours sometimes.

But that had changed. Now you lay awake for an entirely new reason.

Your thrall paused over the pot, his slender fingers tightened on the wooden ladle. 

His golden eyes locked onto your form, his mouth tight with distrust. Then as if realized his disrespectful attitude, his eyes darted away as he bowed his head. 

Then he spoke. His voice was sweet as bells even if you couldn’t understand a single word of it. He hesitated then clumsily, “Welcome home, Master.”

You winced at the title. 

It wasn’t planned. You had never taken any slaves before and never wanted to. You meant to take a wife. One that wouldn’t mind a loveless and sexless marriage. 

But in some little settlement in a place of eternal summer, you found him during a night time raid. He had been alone and terrified yet you were captivated by him.

High cheekbones and a graceful build with hair so fair it looked like fresh snow. His eyes reminded you of the rare summer days, golden and filled with life. A child of winter and summer brought to form. 

Far too lovely for a mere moral. The goddess, Glorious Freyja, must have blessed him at birth.

He was so beautiful that you broke your own code. And you felt like a worthless bastard for it.

“You are improving.” You told him, each word enunciated. His brow furrowed until you offered up a slight smile. A moment later, he returned it before he returned to stirring the stew.

Your thrall had already placed most of the dinner on the table, warm bread and cheese awaited for you.  There were even colorful berries but you didn’t touch any of the food as you sat down.

He placed a full bowl in front of you but none for himself.

“Thrall.” You waited until he looked at you. Then you pointed at another bowl then at him. “You eat as well. This winter won’t be a kind one.”

He obeyed.

You didn’t want to admit it, used to being alone in your own home but there was something peaceful about sharing a meal with him. There was the great hall but often you needed time away from everyone. And their questions. 

Once dinner was finished, your thrall cleaned up between loud yawns, moving with a slow ease. You began tending to your blades with an eye toward your bow and arrows. 

You had already hunted enough but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to make sure there was more meat available. Especially for your thrall. He wasn’t built for the harsh land like you were.

You glanced at him, watching the fine line of his back. He reminded you of wildflowers, pretty but easily crushed if not picked correctly. Before you could stop yourself, you called to him.

He blinked at you, placing the lid on the stew. 

You gestured to him to come to you as you stood up. Quietly, he did. His amber eyes narrowed at you like a distrustful cat. Truely, he must belong to Glorious Freyja. 

You grabbed his chin, making him meet your stare. He swallowed but didn’t pull away. His lips were full, stained red by the berries, like he had been kissed over and over by a lover. He was temptation itself. 

Heat pooled low in your stomach, the same dark need to conquer, to claim returned like fire in your blood before battle. It was the feeling you had the night you stole him away.  

“Will you tell me your name tonight?” You asked him, low and rough. It was the same question you asked every night. “You already know mine.”

You tapped on your chest with a free hand and repeated your name. Just like you had every night before. You knew he understood from the sharp glint in his eyes.

There was a moment of silence from him then he shook his head. With a quiet huff, you pressed your thumb on his lips. 

It would be easy. By law, he belonged to you. No one would stop you, hell most of them already thought you had already used him to warm your bed. 

He was yours to use as you pleased. 

But you weren’t a complete monster. Not yet. 

You let him go. He stumbled back, as if he was surprised you did.

“Finish your duties.” You ordered, your tone harsh. You turned your back to him, dismissing him.

You listened to his footsteps as he crossed the room to return to his work. You glanced down at your hands.

There was a slight tremble in your fingers, but you tightened it into a fist. 

Not yet.

~

Spectrum (reincarnation au)

You choose the loukomades - or at least it was close enough, it was in a ball shape but heavy with honey coated layers inside. - without hesitation. The honey shone on the fried dough in the ship’s artificial sunlight. Somehow you knew Hypnos would like it.

The corgi-like alien with five eyes nodded up at you, their gloved hands wrapping up the pastries with neat and quick movements. The other one behind them worked on the coffee orders, rushing between stations with their stubby legs.

Out of everything humans had to offer, it was coffee, alcohol, grains, cane sugar along with honey and other sweeteners that blew up in popularity among the other races. It was always in high demand and good for trading. 

It was so popular that many aliens had trained for years just to make humans’ cuisine, running their own shops with unique twists on the food.

Many humans were still unused to aliens, but you had gotten used to it. They all were another creature trying to make a living. And you never minded anyone who could make a mean cup of joe.

You bent down to accept your order, dropping a heavy tip in the jar. 

Hypnos beamed at you when you joined him at the park bench. His wings fluttered, causing his curls to bounce, when he saw the food and coffee in your hands. You hated that your heart swelled just a bit at the sight. 

“Here.” You told him gruffly, sitting down next to him. Hypnos ignored your tone, digging to the pastry bag with glee.

“My favorite!” Hypnos gasped, popping a ball into his mouth with a joyful hum. His eyes closed in bliss.

You took a sip of your coffee, heavy and smooth with extra caffeine, as Hypnos devoured the sweets. And firmly ignored the soft, pleased moans as he ate. 

Then a loukoumade appeared before your eyes, caught between Hypnos’ slender fingers. He waved it at you. 

“Here, go on and have one, it is delicious. I think those guys added something else in there.” Hypnos remarked, narrowing his eyes at the innocent looking pastry. You scoffed. 

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“Hypnos, get that thing away-“ your warning was cut short as Hypnos shoved the food in your mouth. Thick, heavenly honey and warm bread exploded in your mouth but that wasn’t caught made you stilled.

Hypnos’ fingers were pressed against your lips. The touch was light, impossibly so but you swore that it carried the weight of Venus stardust. Hypnos shifted, closer to you now. 

Gorgeous sunlit eyes watched you.

“Tell me you remember this.” It was shaped like a question but something about his tone changed it into a statement.

You swallowed. 

For a moment you were no longer an overworked captain on a spaceship built from your parents’ dreams.  

The sea and skies were everblue twins, summer was a warm breeze with cries of seagulls and there was a beautiful Greek boy with pale curls and a big smile leading you through the endless backstreets. There was a real possibility of getting mugged but as he took your hand, you knew you would follow him off a cliff. 

You didn’t even know his name.

Eventually, he stopped in front of a bakery, his fingers locked with yours as he brought you in.

Then…

Other memories came in a blur. One with golden armor and a heavy spear in your hand. The smell of the sea, a worn map in your hand. Burning cities and screams.  Another life with charcoal stained nails, a smoke dangling between your lips. Another place and time, you were hiding the mud in a green uniform and a hard helmet as warplanes flew overhead. 

Hypnos were in all of them. 

You jerked back, grabbing his wrist. Panting like you ran a marathon, you glared down at him. 

Hypnos didn’t flinch as you tightened your hold, almost bruising his delicate flesh. You were torn between pushing him off the bench or yanking him closer, to know the feel of his honeyed lips against yours.

Because everytime he touched you, it felt like coming home. And that terrified you.

“Explain yourself.” You snarled in a whisper, shaking his wrist. “I brought you the goods. I saved your life. Now explain.”

Hypnos sighed, like he was disappointed but a fond smile grew anyway. 

“Fine. Always so stubborn.” He teased, like you and him were some old married couple. “Let's start at the beginning once more.”

[jikangairodo]

satoru had always had the tendency of getting particularly needy around holidays , decorating to an extreme & showering loved ones with gifts . it seemed simple enough , a whole day to compensate for all of the ways he fell short in showing his adoration . with more patience than he'd practiced in a lifetime , he'd waited until the exact time nanami was off the clock - bounced eagerly in the doorway before his friend could even manage to fully get up from his desk chair . he wears a giant red sweater , covered in hearts , bulky heart sunglasses that replace his usual blindfold , even a silly headband with heart shaped antennas that seem to shake with each of his eager movements . " nanamin ! happy valentine's day ! " he exclaims eagerly , large gift basket cradled in his arms . in it there is decorative tissue paper , several jams & breads , other savory treats from all over the world he'd thought nanami might like . he'd even tucked a few books & candles into the free spaces , a carefully folded maroon bathrobe with a plush blanket to match . there are a few candies , just in case - but satoru had obviously put a lot of consideration into this being a gift *solely* for the other & not something that he too could pick at . he doesn't go for a cheek kiss this time , but even so his expression is jubilant & a bright smile spreads from ear to ear . " ya' still grumpy from earlier ? "

When it comes to occasions and celebrations, Kento only invests effort in proportion to the significance of the day. Valentine’s Day occupies a lower rung in his hierarchy of importance, particularly since he lacks someone to spoil or spend time with. As a result, he opts for minimal exertion, picking up a few cards and boxes of chocolates during his commute to work and distributing them throughout the school with a courteous smile. As is custom, as is expected from him. This is what Kento does, who he is.

And then there’s Gojo. Kento has just draped his blazer over his arm when a shadow darkens the doorway to his office. It’s not that Kento is oblivious or unintelligent; rather, he’s simply accustomed to Gojo—his appearance, his demeanour. Over the course of 10 years, Kento has developed a certain immunity, though he still observes people’s reactions on the streets, noting their dropped jaws, pointing fingers, and blushes—sometimes all at once. For the first time in a decade, Kento remembers how it feels.

“You look ridiculous,” he grouses, his words polished and worn smooth after years of repetition. As he steps closer, he consciously directs his gaze downward to avoid any imprudent impulses, like flicking the gaudy antenna perched on Gojo’s head. It’s then that he spots the basket, brimming with items tailored to Kento’s preferences. He shouldn’t be surprised at the considerate gesture, but surprised he is.

“That's too much. You shouldn’t have.” Realising he sounds as grumpy as Gojo accuses him of being, he adds a quiet, “Thank you.” Nevertheless, he refrains from taking the basket from Gojo’s hands, opting instead to navigate around the oversized hindrance at the doorway. It’s well past his usual departure time, and Kento becomes uneasy if he lingers at the school longer than necessary. “I can’t manage all of that on the train. You handle it.” Perhaps, for once, Kento can stretch his limits. Maybe he can go all out. “I’m open to suggestions for dinner, otherwise you’ll be eating whatever I decide to make.”