#had a lot of fun learnt a lot got a lot still to learn. that’s the tldr version

[mintmentos]

I'm not even sure how long these took me to make but I FINISHED KNITTING MY FIRST PAIR OF SOCKS!!

I've had such a great time with these and learnt so much. I've used double pointed needles for the first time, been working in the round, actually succeeded at ribbing after the flop on my jumper and managed the dreaded heel turn! There's definitely a lot still to learn, I managed to do the kitchener stitching on the outside of BOTH socks somehow, they're a little bit on the small side so l need to sort my tension out (which I'm hoping to solve with blocking - wish me luck!) and the laddering is still quite prominent.

This was all round such a fun project and I'm so excited to try again and hopefully improve as I go!

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance gets red around him a lot.

It’s strange.

It’s different from when they first started. (First met? Keith’s not sure. Lance is so insistent that they’ve known each other since they were twelve, but Keith thinks he’d recognise someone like Lance, someone who smiled that brightly and laughed so loud. But he doesn’t, and he doesn’t understand why he doesn’t, so he doesn’t think about it. He pretends in his head that they met saving Shiro and that’s that.) When they first started learning each other (that’s a better way to put it), Lance went red all the time, but Keith knew exactly what that was about, could read the hard set of his jaw and the anger making his dark eyes steely. Sometimes he would grin to himself and make the flush on Lance’s cheeks deepen on purpose; say something incendiary and challenging in the most casual one of voice he could manage, just to watch how furious he got, how indignance straightened his spine and squared his shoulders and made his cheeks glow.

He called Lance Rudolph, once, and he went ballistic. It was the first time he ever won a spar of theirs, and half of that was because Keith was laughing too hard to breathe. To this day no one believes Lance when he insists it happened. (Keith does feel bad about that, a little. Everyone seems to think it was just Lance who egged Keith on in the beginning, just Lance who purposely made things difficult, but Keith is grown enough now to admit that he had as much fun pissing Lance off as anyone else would. Well, grown enough to admit it in his head.)

Keith still makes Lance go red all the time, now. The issue is that he doesn’t know how he does it.

They still compete. Obviously. It’s fun and it’s easy and Keith is a fan of things that are fun and easy. That’s why he’s into demolitions. And pod racing.

But the competition no longer has that flare of genuine rage. Lance himself had admitted it, sniffing pompously after a late night spar and informing Keith that he had, apparently, “sucked all the fun out of hating by being endearing or whatever”. He also mentioned something about Keith’s “stupid fucking big round pouty eyes and depressing backstory”, but Keith doesn’t know what to make of that so he shoves it back into the recesses of his mind like many other things, including the first time someone other than his Pa said they loved him, Shiro’s safety lectures, and any and all calculus lessons he has ever sat through.

(It’s a mess back there.)

Keith, too, can admit that the animosity is gone. He no longer wakes up and hears Lance’s voice and considers drop kicking him into a black hole. Sometimes he even hears Lance’s voice and realises he’s smiling on reflex. Now he and Lance hang out. Voluntarily, and a lot. They spar. They swim. They harass Hunk. They harass Pidge. They harass Shiro. They harass all their friends, really. Sometimes Lance uses manoeuvres he’s learnt in sparring to pin Keith to the ground and force weird products onto his face and hair, dodging Keith’s attempts to bite him, preaching about their cleansing qualities or whatever. Sometimes Keith even does it without hissing and generally being a nuisance.

Sometimes Keith follows Lance quietly to the observation, late at night, and sits with him while he cries. He can’t decide how he feels about those nights. He’s not sure if he’s allowed to think about them outside of when they happen.

In all of this, though, Lance’s ruddy face has stayed pretty common. Keith can excuse it when they’re sparring, because it’s admittedly a lot of cardio, but at the same time Keith doesn’t get that red and he’s way paler than Lance is. He can almost kind of excuse it when they swim, for the same reasons.

He doesn’t get it any other times, though. He doesn’t know why Lance goes red at the most innocuous things, like when Keith tells him his hair smells good or his laugh is pretty or he’s actually really good at that nerdy math game Pidge likes, holy crow, I didn’t know you were that kind of smart. Nerd. He doesn’t understand why Lance goes red when he trips and Keith catches him, ‘cause he’s a big klutz, you’d think he’d be used to it by now (it’s not like Keith is going to let him fall. Well, usually not). He doesn’t get why Lance goes red when Keith compliments him in training, because usually when Lance gets complimented he gets a big head about it and preens for an hour.

It’s just strange.

Mostly, though, it’s not that big of a deal. Maybe Lance is just a blushy kind of person. He’s taken to teasingly calling Lance Red, because it’s better than Rudolph, and also because Lance goes scarlet every time he says it, so it’s kind of like he’s a wizard who can make Lance flush on command. Which is cool. Other than that Keith mostly just pretends it doesn’t happen. They hang out too much for Keith to bother. If he questioned it every time, he would go bananas.

“You have icing smeared on your face,” Keith comments on one such hanging out occasion. (They’re plundering the kitchen for the cupcakes Hunk made and specifically forbade them from touching. But Hunk allegedly broke into Lance’s room last week and stole the last of his toner, whatever the hell that is, so fair’s fair.)

Lance pops the last of the cupcake into his mouth then turns to face him. “Where?”

“Here,” Keith says, tapping the left side of his own chin.

Lance, like a dumbass, makes a swiping motion on the left side of his face, instead of mirroring where Keith touched. He misses the icing entirely.

“Left side,” Keith says, exasperatedly.

Lance scowls at him. “That is the left side.”

“No — the other left.”

“There is no other left! There’s only one left!”

Rolling his eyes, Keith reaches over to wipe the icing off for him. There cannot be any evidence on them, after all. When Hunk has a conniption over his missing cupcakes they must play the plausible deniability card so they can snicker about it later.

He swipes his thumb under Lance’s bottom lip, trying to scrape the icing off with his thumbnail. Lance inhales sharply.

“Sorry,” Keith murmurs, softening his grip. He must have scratched him. The icing didn’t come off, though, so he switches tactics and slides off the counter, shifting so he’s standing in between Lance’s open legs and cradling Lance’s cheek in his palm to tilt his head. He rubs his thumb much softer on the stubborn streak of whipped sugar, and that works a little better. He keeps rubbing until finally Lance’s skin is clear, all the half-dried icing now spread on the pad of Keith’s thumb. He licks it off without thinking.

It’s sweet.

Lance makes a strained whimpering noise. Keith flicks his gaze up to meet his face again and is less surprised than he should be to see a flush glowing across his cheekbones, making his freckles seem much darker than they are. His pupils are dilated so wide they nearly swallow up the brown of his irises, and Keith can’t tell if he’s looking at him or through him.

He sighs heavily. “Dude, do you have a condition?”

It takes Lance a long moment to answer. By the time he finally does, his gaze has moved firmly to his lap, neck bent so that Keith can’t really see his face. His ears are still read.

“I’ve got a fuckin’ heart condition,” he mutters.

Keith furrows his eyebrows. That’s weird. He’s seen Lance’s medical scans before — he’s in the pods a lot. You’d think that kind of thing would be on there.

“It doesn’t show up on your med scans,” Keith points out. “Is it, like, a genetic thing?”

Slowly, Lance picks his head back up, squinting at him for several long moments. Keith begins to squirm.

“You’re actually slow,” Lance says with an almost awed tone of voice. Which is mean. “Like, genuinely, actually slow. I think there are bubbles in your brain.”

“Hey,” Keith protests, pouting. “I help you commit cupcake heists, and this is how you treat me?”

Instead of answering, Lance continues to stare at him. He almost looks bewildered, which does nothing but make Keith more confused.

Eventually he lets out a long, tired sigh. It is not the first time Keith has heard that sigh. That is a sigh he hears when Shiro finds him throwing up his guts after eating a tub of ice cream out of spite. That’s the kind of sigh he hears from Allura when Keith ignores instructions and boulders through the shocks from the invisible maze to get it done faster. That’s the sigh that says I wish I had a trebuchet to strap you to it and release you into the sun. Keith is very familiar with that sigh, although he usually makes it happen on purpose, or at the very least understands how it’s warranted.

Right now he is completely lost.

“I am going to go bother Coran,” Lance says finally, pushing himself off the counter and walking towards the door. “You are not invited. I will talk to you when I want to strangle you less. Goodbye.”

“Bye,” Keith calls out, head tilted in confusion. He watches Lance go until he disappears down the hallways.

“He is so confusing,” he announces to no one, then walks out the kitchen himself.

[izicodes]

Hi, Hello! It’s me, Izzy and I am back from a very long break!

For those who don’t know who I am and just saw my post, I’m Isabelle but Izzy for short (and even shorter, Izi)! I run a Codeblr blog which I post about anything coding! I try to strictly only talk about coding, programming and computer science, but frankly, I ramble on about something else eventually! Hope you’re doing well!

Now, I know I said I wouldn't come back, but that was because I suddenly became stuck on what to post about and wanted to give myself a break and figure out how to do things on my blog and my online presence in general!

So, in summary, I am back from my break very inspired and eager to help more people get into programming / get better at programming! I will go on to talk about exactly what I have been doing during my break later on in this post, but wanted to say thank you to everyone who messaged me throughout the months and saw how I was! Very thought and extra blessings from God to you, please!

Working at my new-but-not-so-new job!

Yes! So, obviously, as a 21st Century girlie, I am working! Still at the music company that I started back in January! Now that I am 8 months into the job, I feel now I am fully immersed in the job and the projects and not feeling like an outsider! I went on multiple out-the-office events with the whole company and it was nice! Some I couldn’t attend because of religious reasons, but I still had fun! I got to meet a lot more girlies at my office that I don’t usually talk to (because I’m still the only girl in the frontend engineering team but there is a backend girlie but we don’t work close together so… distance)! Cheatingly, I am always ticking the box of “code every day”! However, work has made me do more UI/UX designing + frontend programming websites which I love! Always wanted to be both and not just one or the other! We are allowed to have 2 job titles, remember? (But make sure the salary is in accordance, of course, ~)

Learning new technologies! (for fun, obviously)

By “for fun” I mean personal reasons, the technologies I learnt on a whim were not for work but because I needed to learn them for personal projects I wanted to learn! I stress again; it’s more fun to learn something because you want to and not because you have to! So, I have been learning how to create desktop applications using ElectronJS and ReactJS (React has become my best friend!). Me now compared to me when I started my break is 10x smarter I feel like! My brain has definitely expanded somewhere…!

Latest project?!

Inspired by study productivity apps and wanting to track my Korean language progress, I am making a desktop application called ‘eStudySpace’! It would be my own personal app, but I want to see if I can actually pull something like this off! Right now I have not coded anything because I want to work on the design aspect first (which is smarter and a time saver in the future), so I have been on Figma for the last 2 weeks coming up with designs!

(It looks bad, I know this is like idea no.3287368 ugh...)

Miscs

I have been learning Korean for 4 months now. 

I have plans to move to a South-Eastern country, The Philippines? Singapore? Unsure!

I do have plans to switch to a new career but that’s more like 5 years into the future! But right now, I’m happy where I am at!

[letterstotheflre]

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐈𝐕𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐒 (𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈’𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔) || 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍

summary: it's his fault. daryl knows that. he should've realised sooner that he knew exactly what those mushroom's would do to you once you ate them.

cw: 18+ only. dark fic [ft. sex pollen, dubcon, mentions of previous noncon drugging (on daryl), outdoor sex, grinding, fingering, squirting]

a/n: soo here is my first big daryl fic! honestly, this might be my favourite fic i’ve ever written :3 it was very fun to write and somehow i really liked writing daryl dialogue/inner monologue (his accent is just so fun lol). once again, this was supposed to be a very feral smut fest and ended up having a lot of emotional moments and inner daryl turmoil </3 i still hope you like it :)) || also very unrelated side note, but i think “gold rush” by taylor fits the daryl in this fic v much (it’d be from his pov, not yours)

“Where d’ya think we should go next?” You ask Daryl around a mouthful of the lone rabbit he hunted earlier this afternoon.

Finding food is getting harder and harder, not to mention you’re running out of your water supply. It’s obvious you need to move your camp to a better area, preferably somewhere near a lake or river. The question is, where is that exactly?

Daryl shrugs, turning the rabbit leg between his dirty fingers around. He takes a rough bite. 

He doesn’t know, and to be honest, he doesn’t really care. Now that the prison fell and with the group scattered to the winds, he doesn’t have much hope for anything. He had gotten a little too comfortable there, his first mistake, and now look where it landed him. Had he learnt nothing from his first camp with Merle, then the camp in Atlanta, then the CDC, and finally the farm? He had enough experience under his belt to know that things always took a turn for the worse, especially when everything seemed safe and peaceful. Yet he still let his guard down. 

The thing is, the prison… the prison was different. It was well protected, with several feet of fence that kept the walkers far from the main building. They didn’t have to worry about any walkers creeping into their cells and taking a bite out of them in the middle of the night since they were able to clear their side of the prison in a matter of days. They had guns and ammo, food and water. Hershel and Carol even taught them how to take care of crops. Hell, they even got their hands on some cattle! They didn’t need to scavenge the woods for some meagre squirrels any more. 

Things were looking up. He had even started to think that maybe, just maybe, they could spend the rest of their lives there. But then the Governor showed up and everything went to shit. 

So now here he is. No Rick, no Carol. Alone once again. Well, not exactly alone– he had you for company. 

It’s not that he doesn’t like you– he likes you more than just a normal amount if he’s being honest with himself. It’s just that… you’re a dead girl walking. He doesn’t know how you’ve made it this far, and by all accounts you shouldn’t have. Before all this, before the virus and the walking dead, you were a preschool teacher. You had lived in the city your entire life, in a nice house located in a nice neighbourhood with nice parents. If he had to bet, he’d say you were even prom queen back in the day. 

There had been no need for you to learn how to hunt, scavenge, track, shoot a gun or even handle a knife. Daryl had been the one to teach you how to shoot a gun in the air, volunteering immediately when Rick brought the subject up and completely ignoring the amused, knowing smile on his friend’s face. 

If he focuses hard enough, he can still hear the sound of your happy laughter the first time you hit the center of the target. Can still feel your chest pressed to his in your celebratory hug. 

“Think I saw some train tracks a couple miles east yesterday. If the others saw ‘em too, they’re probably following them thinkin’ we’re doing the same,” you ramble on, not letting his lack of answer deter you. “Maybe we could find Rick or Maggie.” You lean forward so you can reach the mushrooms you picked up today, plop one and then another inside your awaiting mouth. 

Daryl watches as you chew, eyes judging. He had been adamant that you shouldn’t eat them, shouldn’t even touch them. 

“Stupid girl,” he growled, swatting your hand away from the cluster growing on the bark of a tree. “Didn’t ya mom tell ya not to touch things you never seen before?”

“Ain’t stupid,” you bristled at his tone. “I know these, they used to grow ‘rond some plants in the garden back home. Pretty sure mom put them in our soup ev’ry now and then.”

You don’t let his lack of answer deter you. “Think I saw some train tracks a 

Daryl kneeled beside you, broad right shoulder touching your left one, and examined them closely. He was sure he had never seen them before, not in the woods from his hometown nor in any of his hunting trips since the outbreak started. “Nah, these ain’t safe,” he concluded. 

“Yes, they are.”

“No”, he enunciated the word to make it as clear as possible. “They ain’t.” 

“Yes, they are,” you scowl and plush a couple from their roots. “I ain’t stupid nor useless. I know I can eat these.”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “If ya want to kill y’self just to prove a point then fine, be my fuckin’ guest,” he snarked. Then he got up and kept walking in silence, not even sparing you another glance. 

He shakes his head firmly. “Nah, no train tracks.”

“What? Why?” You ask, surprised. “It’s our best shot at findin’ the others!”

“Ain’t no one to find, girl. S’better if ya stop kiddin’ yourself.”

“How could you say that?!” You look at him like he’s a monster. Daryl clenches his jaw. “They’re our friends, our family! We can’t just give ‘em up for dead as soon as things go south! Not after everything!”

Daryl throws away the bone in his hand and looks at you with fury. Don’t you get it? Merle, Sophia, Andrea, Lori, T-Dog, Dale, the list goes on and on. You’re the only one he knows for sure he has left and he’ll be damned if he has to add your name to the list too because you want to search for ghosts. You are his responsibility now. His voice is loud when he says, “Yeah, we should! ‘Cause if you saw those tracks y’know what it means? Means other people saw ‘em too. Bad people. And if ya go ‘round there, lighting fires and singin’ those stupid kid songs you sing all day like you’re in a fuckin’ musical or some shit y’know what they’re gonna do? They’re gon’ kill ya, or worse. So drop the fuckin’ topic and finish yer dinner.”

There really is no room for argument. You drop your gaze to the floor and gulp down the lump in your throat, bringing your knees to your chest. Everything is silent for at least an hour, the only sounds coming from the crackling fire and Daryl’s chewing. 

And then you call his name. 

“Daryl?” Your voice is different; breathier, quieter. Almost like you can barely string the letters together. “I don’t feel very well.”

He’s on his feet in a second, the argument forgotten as soon as he heard your mumbled call. In three quick steps he’s standing in front of you. He kneels so you’re the same height and cups the side of your face. “Wha’s wrong?”

You blink sluggishly, revealing your dilated pupils, and lick your lips. “I don’t know,” you slur. Your breathing gets heavier. “I think– Oh God, I’m so hot,” you complain, almost ripping the zipper of your jacket in your haste to take it off. You throw it away like it’s made of molten lava. Before he can stop you, you take off your long sleeved shirt, leaving you in just a tank top, and lean back against the fallen tree trunk with a relieved sigh. 

It doesn’t make any sense, Daryl thinks. It’s almost winter in Georgia, you should be freezing, but there are no goosebumps littering your skin that might signal you are cold in any way. In fact, you’re even trying to roll your cargo pants up to relieve your legs from a nonexistent blistering heat. 

Daryl presses his hand to your forehead and is surprised to find it slick with sweat. “Y’re burning up,” he says, though he guesses you could probably already tell. He takes one of your arms and inspects it closely, looking for any wounds that could potentially be infected. “Where ya bit?”

You shake your head. “No, no. I didn’t see any walkers today.”

Your arms are in pristine condition, save for some sparse moles and freckles and a single healed scratch on your forearm he remembers you got from running around the woods so carelessly. There’s no sign of a bite or infected cut.

“Did ya get close to anyone sick back at the prison?” He knows it’s stupid to ask– everyone had taken their rounds of antibiotics to prevent another possible outbreak, and it’s also been a week since the prison fell. If you had been infected, you would’ve showed symptoms earlier on, but he doesn’t know what else to do.

“No, I was with Beth ‘n Judy.” Suddenly, you gasp in pain and clutch your lower stomach, pressing your thighs together. “Daryl, it hurts,” you whimper.

The pain in your voice breaks his heart. You look so small, curled up in a tight ball like a wounded animal. He brings you into his lap and shushes you, “I know, I know.” He rubs your back in an attempt to soothe you. “Just lemme think for a second, ‘kay? M’gonna fix ya.”

He wrecks his brain for a solution but keeps coming up blank. He doesn’t have any idea as to what the hell caused this– one second you were fine and then the other you were bending over in pain. Did you touch something? Eat something? Was the water contaminated? Did some poisonous plant graze your skin? Was the rabbit he killed infected and he didn’t notice? 

The tip of your nose tickles his neck as it moves from his collarbone up to his jaw, your rib cage expanding beneath his broad hand when you take a deep breath. He grunts at the strange sensation. “What are y’doin’, girl?”

Your hands curl around his shoulders, the leather of his vest crinkling beneath your tight grip. “You smell so good,” you mewl, taking in another whiff of his scent.

What the fuck.

He doesn’t know where the random compliment came from. He knows you have to be lying though– it’s been weeks since his last shower. His last one was five days before the prison fell and it wasn’t even a proper shower, just a scrub down with a rag, a bucket of water and some soap they found in the last supply run. That’s why he says, albeit a little disheartened, “Y’re talking nonsense.”

You shift in his lap, pressing your chests together and Daryl has to force himself not to react to the feeling of your boobs against his chest or to the movement of your wiggling hips over his crotch. “Am not, am not,” you babble, pressing small wet kisses to his neck and trailing your palms down his strong arm. “You– you smell so good. Feel so good. So big. I–” your breath hitches when you grind against him, relief morphing your previously pained features. “I need you, Daryl.”

His hands that were previously laying limp on either side of him are suddenly held by your softer, smaller ones and moved to your thighs. He drops his gaze, watches you control his hands. Up and down, up and down. The light coming from the fire illuminates the remnants of your dinner. You shift directions and now his hands are on your ass, forcing him to squeeze and grope as you keep grinding against him. 

He stares intently at the leftover mushrooms and all of a sudden he’s 23 years old and Merle’s laughing his ass off as Daryl finishes the dinner his older brother had insisted on cooking. He remembers now, the desperation clawing at his chest when the shrooms started making effect. Remembers how Merle dragged him to a club in the city and patted his back in encouragement. “Go wild, baby brother! Lord knows ya need this.”

Misery is heavy on his shoulders. He wants to throw up– he was wrong before. He did see those mushrooms before. He had eaten them and been under their control. And now you were suffering the same fate he had all those years ago. Because of him, because he failed to realise sooner. 

You move his hands up to your waist, your stomach, your breasts. He never wanted it to be like this. He had hoped, stupid as it was to dream about something other than mere survival, that if he ever got the courage to confess his feelings it’d be when everyone was safe again. When you didn’t have to sleep in tents and cars and pray to God he found any semblance of food. When you’d finally have a house, or a room, or at least a bed. 

He’d be soft with you, just like you were with him every day. 

Now, as you grind and moan above him in a lust filled rut, that dream will remain that. Just a dream. 

He tears his hands from your grip, one settling on one side of your hip and the other cradling your cheek. Heat emanates from your skin like you’re a furnace. Daryl leans forward, lips brushing yours as he promises, “M’gonna make it better. That okay?”

You’re not in the right state of mind but he still asks for any semblance of peace of mind. 

“Please,” you whimper, little crystal beads gathering on your waterline.

After months of pining, he finally closes the distance between you and presses your lips together in a firm kiss. Your mouth is soft and plain against his, trusting him enough to follow his every command as he devours you completely. He uses the hand on your hip to help you smooth down your otherwise stuttered grinding, drinking down every sweet little moan and gasp he elicits out of you. 

That’s what you are– sweet. Sweet to touch and taste and feel. Sweet even in the way you cling to him, use him to relieve the affliction between your legs he accidentally caused. 

Daryl holds you by the back of your neck, feels the warmth of your breath as you moan his name.  “More. I need more,” you cry. The tear tracks on your cheeks glimmer in the warm fire light. “M’so empty. Need you to fuck me. Please, please, please,” you beg like a broken record, forcing your fist into Daryl’s chest and twisting his heartstrings without mercy. 

“Don’t cry, doll face,” he rasps, brushing away your fresh wave of tears. You inhale shakily, leaning into his touch and nuzzling his palm like a touch starved kitten. Your hands tremble as you unbutton your jeans, struggling to pull them down from how sweaty you are and how sticky the insides of your thighs became. Daryl silences you every whine with a kiss and helps you pull them down to your shins, not willing to risk taking off both your shoes and pants completely in case you need to make a quick escape.

“I said I’s gonna fix ya and I am. Just need a couple minutes first.” You make another noise of complaint that turns into a relieved sigh when Daryl pulls your panties to the side and teases your folds with the tip of his fingers. “Need to get ya ready first. This all for me?” He asks, gathering all the slick dripping out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hum, eyes closed in bliss as he toys with you. You nudge your noses together. “Always for you, Daryl. Only you.”

You really need to stop playing with his feelings like that. You’re talking out of your ass, he tells himself, letting your desire and need for relief control your words. Still, it’s nice to hear. He can’t deny that. Maybe he can live in this fantasy bubble a little longer, at least until reality crashes down on you both and you have to come to terms with what happened and decide to never see him again. 

He circles your weeping hole, taunting you, then plunges a lone finger inside when you look like you’re ready to pounce on him. It’s easy, oh so easy, for him to slip in. He thought it would be harder, given the fact that he knew you haven’t slept with anyone since the apocalypse started. Not that he kept an eye on you or anything, he just happened to notice how your tent and cell were always silent, much like his. But you’re so wet that your cunt practically swallowed him right in.

You tap his shoulder needily, mouthing the word “more”, and bite your lip to stay quiet when he adds a second finger and then a third. You could cry from how happy you are right now. 

“That enough for ya, ya spoiled girl?” He scoffs, rubbing circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. 

You can only nod as he buries his fingers up to his knuckles, curling them and feeling the rough calluses as he prods inside you in search of your soft spot. When your loudest moan yet lets him know he found it, he abuses it, creating loud squelching noises that have him smiling. 

Euphoria sends a shiver down your spine and makes your entire body shake as you cum, a small stream of clear liquid hitting Daryl’s wrist and dripping down to his jeans. “Shit,” he whispers, amazed. 

He made you squirt.

Daryl’s still staring at his dripping wrist as you paw at him with a heaving chest, fingers curling around his brown plaid shirt. Your nails could nearly break the fabric. “You promised,” you sob. “You promised you’d fix it. That you’d fuck me. Don’t you want me?”

He tears his gaze away from the mess between your legs in shock. How could you ever think he doesn’t want you? When you’ve consumed his every waking thought and haunted his every dream. When the only thing he wanted to do when you looked at him with those glimmering eyes was to follow your every command word for word. When he didn’t want to just fuck you– he wanted to keep you safe and warm, wanted to make sure you’d never know hunger.

He grabs your jaw, fingers tightly pressing on your warm cheeks, and snarls. “Don’t ever think I don’t want ya.” He tugs you to him so he can kiss you, unbuckling his belt with one hand and pulling down the zipper of his jeans. Your own hand joins his and squirms under the rough fabric so you can take his cock out from behind his boxers. His jaw clenches at the feeling of your soft hand around him, so different from his own. Untouched by decades of manual work, protected by dutiful applications of hand creams (he's heard you tell Beth how dry your hands are now and how much you miss your favourite hand cream. He’s been looking for some on every supply run ever since).

He spreads all the wetness stuck to his fingers over his cock, his stomach doing a summersault when he sees you biting your lower lip in want. You guide him to your entrance, gasping in unison when the mushroom tip slips past your soaking wet folds. Slowly, you sink yourself down, Daryl mouthing at your neck as you get used to the thickness of his cock as it threatens to split you in half. 

“Relax,” Daryl grunts, the scruff covering his cheeks scratching at the tender skin of your cleavage. He goes back to playing with your clit, knowing it’ll allow the tension to leave your muscles and he’ll be able to push in the remaining two inches. 

Once he’s buried to the hilt, you take a shuddering breath in and slowly start to bounce. “Wanted this for so long,” you babble. “Wanted you, Daryl. A-And now you want me,” you smile, increasing the speed of your bouncing. You chant, “You want me, you want me, you want me.”

Daryl nods, teeth gritted as he feels you tighten around him, walls pulsing. You collapse on his chest, hips still grinding in search of any form of friction. With a firm and secure grip, he grabs your ass and uses it as leverage so he can pound you down on him. For once, he’s not worried about loud noises or stray walkers or even unknown strangers stumbling into the scene. No, he just worries about you and your sweet cunt keeping his cock warm; about your lips on his neck, your hands gripping his hair and your dulcet “uh uh uh’s” ringing in his ears as you cum for the second time.

He lifts you off of him just in time to shoot ropes of white all over his shirt, biting your neck to muffle his grunts of pleasure. For once in what seems like a lifetime, the walker infested woods are completely still, only both of your laboured breathing breaking the unusual silence. 

Until you speak in a meek voice and it’s like he’s suddenly doused in cold water. “Daryl?”

He drops his forehead to your clavicle and shuts his eyes tightly, heaving a sigh. This is it– the moment where he loses you, where you run away. Forever disgusted with him. Afraid of him for breaking your trust. 

After another beat of silence, you call his name again. “What happened?”

He straightens his back and rubs his face. He clears his throat. “It was the mushrooms,” he refuses to look at you as he explains the events of the night, unable to stomach the look of disgust he’s sure is all over your pretty face. “The ones you picked up today. I thought I didn’t know them but I did. They’re some kind of… aphrodisiac or some shit like that. Merle…” he trails off, skipping over the reason he knew about them in the first place. It doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Y’were feeling so sick ‘n those things… with the amount you ate they would’ve– they would’ve killed ya if I didn’t…”

“You saved me,” you state, cradling his face so that he can see you. His face is all scrunched up like he wants to cry and he hates himself for it– he has no right to feel like shit. He shakes his head. “You did. You saved me. I would’ve died if you didn’t do as I said, as I wanted you to.” You kiss his lips chastely. “Y’know, I meant what I said earlier. While we were…”

“Nah,” he scoffs. “Y’were just saying shit ‘cause of the drugs. S’okay, ya don’t have to worry ‘bout my feelings.”

“No,” you frown, disconcerted that he always seems to bring himself down without even realising it. “I meant it. I’ve wanted you for a while, since– since the CDC, actually. When we played that card game after dinner and ya helped me get to bed since I was too drunk to even stand.” You smile as you remember the feeling of his arm around your waist and the soft pat on your head once you were resting on the pillow. You tuck some strands of hair behind his ear and his throat dries. Shrugging, you say, “I just never thought you liked me that way.”

Daryl weighs his options, wonders if he should take a leap of faith or pretend he’s never thought of you that way. This is too much for him. He’s scared to bare his chest wide open only for you to dislike what’s inside. But then he sees the earnest look in your eye and behind it, the fear that he won’t say anything at all. 

“I do,” he gets out through the fist clutching his vocal chords. “Like you. Like that, I mean. I–” He shuts his eyes at how useless he’s with words (another reason why you deserve someone better than him). However, instead of rolling your eyes at him or making a derisive sound like he expected, you simply giggle at his uselessness, reaching for him once more. 

He lets you kiss him and touch him as much as you want. You trace his brow bone and cheekbones with the soft pads of your fingers, play with the ends of matted hair and twirl them around your index. When you yawn, he makes sure you have your top and jacket back on and lets you rest on his chest. He stretches his arm so he can reach his discarded crossbow and leaves it on his side. “C’mon, go to sleep. I’ll take first watch.”

pls reblog if u enjoyed it, it’ll make me twirl my hair and kick my feet :3

[catmiemy]

Another Chance to Live Final Part (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)

Summary: Ana and you are facing some big changes.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

A/N: I'm actually very proud of myself for finishing this story relatively fast. And it was a lot of fun to write :)

Thank you to everyone that stuck around till the end. I hope you enjoy this last part!

Of course you didn’t just trust your parents to respect the boundaries you had set in place; that had never been their strong suit after all. Once you had successfully weathered the first onslaught of emotions, you thought about it more carefully and together with Ana put a few precautions in place.

For one you informed the staff at Real that none of your family members should be granted access if they came by to see you. A wise decision, as it turned out. Only a few days later your mother showed up, arguing for so long that she had to be escorted off the premises by security personnel.

You also basically moved in with Ana. No one from your family knew where she lived, so they couldn’t just drop by like they could at your apartment. Another good call as you learnt when your neighbors told you that they had almost called the police because a man fitting your father’s description had been standing in front of the house for so long.

All of this made your guilt kick into overdrive and you were grateful for your girlfriend’s support. She never told you what to do, she was even hesitant to tell you what she would do in your place, but Ana was always there to listen and help you keep apart what you truly wanted from what you felt you should do.

While things with your family were at an all time low, you were incredibly happy with Ana, and practically living together was a welcome change in pace. Both of you were committed to making each other smile with small gestures, so your everyday life was filled with much more happiness than ever before. 

Ana loved to start your day off with a big smile by turning your coffee into a small piece of art, constantly trying out new foam designs. And it didn’t matter if they turned out right or not, you appreciated the effort, and attempting to guess what your girlfriend had been going for was half the fun.

You knew Ana felt the same about something you were doing to brighten her day: learning some Swiss German words. Which wasn’t easy because you couldn’t just use any old translator, you had to invest some time to find the correct words. And often times you failed horribly at pronouncing them, making your girlfriend giggle while she was trying to decipher what you were saying. That in turn always got you laughing as well, which made it even harder to pronounce anything properly.  

The biggest laughing fit set off by your Swiss German attempts occurred when you very proudly asked Ana if she could give you a Schmützeli. You didn’t get quite the reaction you hoped for, a kiss; instead your girlfriend was staring at you, and you couldn’t tell if she was amused or annoyed.

“Wait, does it not mean kiss? Did I mess this up? I’m so sorry if I said something offensive,” you apologized frantically, already pulling out your phone to look at your sources again. You had been so sure, you had even double-checked this.

At that point Ana began laughing, so hard that she couldn’t even say anything. Now it was your turn to stare at her, wondering what was so funny. It was a huge relief though; it couldn’t have been anything too bad if your girlfriend found it so amusing.

After a moment you couldn’t help but join the laughter. You didn’t know what you were laughing about, but Ana’s laughter was simply infectious.

Once your girlfriend had calmed down, she explained it to you still a little out of breath, “Okay, so it’s not even really that funny, but Schmützeli isn’t a word you would use with a partner. At least not where I’m from. It’s more for like small kisses between family members or friends. And it just really caught me off guard.”

You silently agreed, this wasn’t really that funny, and you were still a bit confused why it had made your girlfriend laugh so hard. Then again you were always happy to make Ana laugh, so you weren’t going to complain. And you definitely kept using the word again every once in a while because it amused her every time.  

There were other things you did for each other, like Ana playing the guitar for you, sometimes even singing a song you requested, which made you all chocked up whenever she did. Or you taking pictures of small beautiful things you saw in your day to day life to show to your girlfriend in the evening, eager to share the beauty you had encountered with her.

You also did your best to make your everyday life as special as possible, savoring the time you got together. A part of this was ensuring that you weren’t just spending time together by being around each other, but also by doing things and actively spending time together whenever your crazy schedules allowed it. And sometimes even if they didn’t, carving out time when you didn’t necessarily have it.

It was a good thing your personal life brought you so much happiness because the same thing couldn’t be said about your work. To be honest thinking of football as merely that, work, was painful enough by itself. Sure, it was, but it also always had been so much more than just a job.

Sometimes you still debated if you should just retire and try to find something else that would spark some sort of passion again. However, at the end of the day you weren’t ready to give up on what had been your life’s biggest passion so far.

So you resigned yourself to this reality, where the joy you once found in football only showed itself on very rare occasions. And whenever it did, you clung to it with ferocity to tie you over until the next minuscule moment.

Then, completely out of the blue, you got an offer from another team. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to look around for another club; leaving Madrid had never been something you considered. It hadn’t been something you thought you would ever want to do.

But when you were approached by the managers of Tigres Femenil, you realized all of the sudden that it might be exactly what you wanted. It helped that it was the team Jenni was playing for, so you knew if you actually decided to go through with this, you wouldn’t be totally alone on another continent.

That wasn’t the appeal though, that was merely a helpful factor. What really made you want to do it was the fact that it would be your choice, only yours and no one else’s, not your family’s and not your club’s. It would be you deciding what to do with your life, instead of rolling with the punches others kept throwing at you.

Was that a good enough reason to move halfway across the world, though? Especially since there was one obvious reason keeping you in Madrid, Ana. The thought of not seeing her daily was hard to bare. Then again it probably wasn’t healthy that she was the only good thing in your life at the moment, that was too much pressure to place on one person. So perhaps it would be better for your relationship in the long run if you decided to do this?

On the other hand, Mexico was a long way from Madrid. Would Ana be okay with doing long distance or would this be the end of your relationship? Because in that case you wouldn’t do it.

As was in your nature you drove yourself crazy thinking about every possible outcome either of your choices could have. You did your best to not let on that something was bothering you, but Ana must have noticed anyway because she began acting a bit odd herself, switching between being weirdly distant and overly clingy.

You had almost reached the point of finally broaching the subject, when your girlfriend took the first step. In the morning before leaving for your respective training sessions, Ana nervously asked if you could talk later that night. Of course you agreed, thinking that she wanted to ask you what had been on your mind lately.

Consequently you spent the entire day agonizing about how you could put your thoughts and feelings into words. You made countless drafts in your mind, even though you knew that you wouldn’t be able to remember them in the moment. At least they made you feel a bit better prepared.

Ana was back at your apartment before you and she set everything up nicely with candles and flowers she had gotten for you. You appreciated how she went out of her way to make sure you knew everything was okay. Every once in a while you still got in your head, worried that your girlfriend would leave you if you made on small mistake.

Once you had both settled down, Ana took a deep breath, blurting out, “There is something I have to tell you.”

This took you by surprise. You had been under the assumption she had set this all up to get you to talk. And you instantly began wondering what your girlfriend had to tell you. Naturally your first thought was that she might break up with. However, even you had to admit that preparing a romantic candle light dinner would be a very strange move if you wanted to break up with someone.

“Oh, what is it? I actually have something I need to tell you as well,” you replied, trying to keep your worries out of your voice.

“Really?” Ana exclaimed in surprise. This in turn surprised you, you didn’t think you had been doing a good job at keeping your over thinking a secret.

“You can go first,” your girlfriend quickly offered.

Normally you wouldn’t have accepted such an offer, especially not when Ana had been the one to set all this up to talk to you about something. However, something in her tone sounded almost pleading, as if she desperately wanted you to go first. And begging from your girlfriend was something you could never resist.

“Well, I’m guess I’m just going to come out and say it,” you started, taking a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might be Ana’s reaction, “I’ve gotten an offer from another club. And I didn’t think it was something I would be interested in, but now that I have it, I realize that I really am. You know how I feel at Real, so this might be my chance to enjoy football again. But then I also don’t want to leave you alone here because I love you and…”

Ana had been listening to you rattling on for a moment, her face unreadable, until she interrupted you sounding oddly excited, “Wait, you’re thinking about leaving Madrid?”

You frowned at her happiness. It was one thing to be excited about something good happening to your partner, but being so happy about them moving away seemed weird to you, and a little painful.

“Wow, no reason to be so happy about getting rid of me,” you mumbled, avoiding your girlfriend’s eyes.

“What? No!” Ana cried out, reaching over to grab your hand. “That’s not what this is about at all. The thing is that I too have gotten offers from other clubs and I didn’t really consider them, but then a few days ago Atleti told me that they wouldn’t renew my contract, so I have no choice but to leave.”

“And I have been feeling so bad about it because just like you said, I didn’t want to leave you behind here either. But if we’re both leaving, it’s a totally different scenario. Sure, long distance is going to suck, but it won’t be forever and at least this way we hopefully both end up in places where we feel happier than at our current clubs.”

Suddenly Ana’s behavior over the last few days made a lot more sense. You had thought she was acting weird because she had picked up on your distress, but really she had been dealing with something herself. Being dropped by yet another team and faced with having to upend her entire life again.

“Ugh, I didn’t think I could hate Atleti more than I already do! How stupid of them to let you go,” you grumbled.

Your girlfriend blinked a couple of times, a smile appearing on her face, “That’s what you’re focusing on right now?”

“Yeah! I’m really annoyed with them! But also…Why didn’t you tell me?”

It wasn’t something you could really complain about since it was very much exactly what you would have done in Ana’s position. Your girlfriend was much better though, when it came to opening up and discussing her struggles. So the fact that she hadn’t told you before didn’t sit right with you.

Ana sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I made up my mind so many times to just come right out and say it, but every time I lost my courage in the last second. Because at it turns out it’s not so easy to tell your girlfriend who you love very much and who has a hard time at work and with her family that you’re moving to another country.”

“Oh.”

You understood that, it was the thing you had been worried about, that Ana felt too much pressure to bring joy to your life because so little else did. Under different circumstances this might have been harder to swallow, but in the current situation it actually helped. It left not a single doubt in your mind, that leaving Madrid was the right choice.

“So, what are your options?” You asked to move on the conversation.

“There are different clubs in Switzerland I could go to, but I don’t really see myself doing that. It would be nice to be close to my family and maybe I should do it to help further women’s football in Switzerland, but it feels more like something I should do, not something I want, you know?”

You knew precisely what she meant. In fact for so long you had made all decisions based on exactly that feeling of ‘I should’, so you were happy Ana didn’t plan on making the same mistake. And you tried to show her that by nodding encouragingly.

“However, the other option is pretty far away, so I just want you to know that no decision has been made yet, and I really want to know what you think. Because if long distance on that scale is a deal breaker for you, I won’t do it,” your girlfriend continued.

Again you nodded, hung up on the fact that you had been having exactly the same thoughts. So as far as distance went this would either work out well for the two of you or Ana would really end up on the other side of the world. What even was on the other side of Mexico? You cursed yourself for your geography knowledge that was clearly lacking.

“Okay, so, the other option is Tigres Femenil. Jenni’s team in Mexico,” your girlfriend rushed out, her eyes flicking between you and the table, as if Ana was torn between wanting to study every miniscule reaction you might show, while also trying to avoid jus tthat.

“What?”

This had to be a joke! Ana probably learnt about your offer from then and decided to play a prank on you. Maybe Jenni had heard about it and told your girlfriend to do this, that would be a Jenni thing to do.

Except not really, though. Your older friend was known for playing pranks and amusing herself at the expense of others, but there was a clear line that she never crossed. And playing with someone’s heart and feelings was on the “don’t”-side of that line.

“I’m sorry! Like I said I haven’t decided yet and if it’s too far then I’ll go to Switzerland. I’m sure that will be great,” Ana apologized frantically. 

“No, wait, that’s not why I reacted like this. The thing is my offer is also from Tigres Femenil, so it just seems a bit unbelievable? People don’t get this lucky in real life,” you explained, disbelief still coloring your tone and set firmly on your face.

“You’re joking right?” Your girlfriend inquired, apparently also having some issues fully accepting this miraculous coincidence as true.

“No, I’m not. They offered me a one year contract with the option for additional years if I like it there and fit well into the team.” Hopefully the added details would make it easier for Ana to believe this was actually happening.

After that the two of you stayed silent for a while, your hearts and minds needed some time to let themselves open up and accept that you were getting much more than you ever hoped for.

You reached that conclusion almost at the same time, huge grins spreading across both of your faces and then there was nothing holding you back anymore. Ana jumped up from her chair first and you swiftly followed suit.

Mere seconds later you basically jumped into your girlfriend’s arms, thinking in the back of your mind that this was exactly how you would celebrate a goal if you would play for the same time. Your heart jumped happily when you realized that you might get a chance to do precisely that next season.

“I’m so happy!” Ana squealed into your ear and you echoed that sentiment.

Moving abroad and playing for another team had sounded excited, but doing so with your girlfriend? That seemed more like a dream than anything else.

Ana and you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms for a good while, just basking in the happiness. It was a welcome change from the usual reasons you spent so long in each other’s embrace. Normally you did so because one of you, more often than not you, was sad and needed comfort. Now there was not an ounce of sadness present, the air was electrified by excitement and the possibility of everything that was to come.

---

Of course you didn’t decide that night to accept the transfer, not legally at least, but emotionally you definitely did. Still, like the reasonable adults you were, you thought it through, gathered some more information before officially making the choice you had already made the moment you learnt both of you could go to Mexico together.

You called Jenni together to tell her the good news and she was overjoyed. Although if the amount of teasing you had to endure during one measly phone call was anything to go by, you were going to have to put up with a lot next year. You didn’t mind, though. Also you were aware that Ana would put a stop to it if she thought it was getting out of hand. You could as well, Jenni would listen if you seriously told her to stop, but you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t.

After that Ana and you focused on wrapping up everything in Madrid, sorting out your apartments and such. There was one particular subject you avoided like the plague, your family. You couldn’t leave for Mexico without at least telling them and try one more time, but you also weren’t ready to face them again in the slightest.

Finally you reached a point in time where you could no longer postpone it. Your girlfriend offered multiple times to go with you, but you declined every time, much to Ana’s chagrin. In the end she decided that she would at least drive you and wait for you in a nearby parking lot. You gladly accepted that suggestion.

“And please leave if it gets too much, yeah? Or call me and I will come get you,” Ana reminded you resolutely, still reluctant to let go of your hand.

“Don’t worry, tesoro, I’ll be fine. I don’t think much will come off today, but I just have to try one more time before we leave,” you explained. And it was true; you didn’t have high hopes for your conversation with your family. But even so you ended up being disappointed.

It started with a very frosty greeting, your father leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was sitting. You had chosen that day specifically because you had thought no one else would be over, but apparently you were out of luck. All of your aunts and uncles were assembled, staring at you disapprovingly.

You swallowed roughly, wetting your lips nervously when it became apparent that you would have to lead this conversation. This had been expected, you had even practiced a bit at home with Ana, but now in the moment your mind felt terrifyingly blank. With everyone glaring at you the only thing you could think of was to apologize. And that was the one thing you remembered you didn’t want to do.

“Did you just come here to stare at us?” Your mother questioned unfriendly.  

“No, I…This isn’t so easy. You’re making this really hard for me,” you muttered

“We’re making it hard for you? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? Just completely cutting us out of your life because of some random girl you met a few months ago,” your mother accused you.

The guilt and self-doubt threatened to consume you, but you tried to focus on your anger instead. At least the anger would allow you to say what needed to be said, even if you couldn’t lay it out as calmly and clearly as you wanted.

“See, this is what I mean. Everything is always my fault and you never listen to what I have to say,” you defended yourself. “And Ana isn’t just some random girl. I can’t stand that you talk like this about someone I love, someone who I’m pretty sure is the love of my life.”

Your family exchanged meaningful glances, the sentiment on their faces clear as day; they thought you were being ridiculous or childish or dramatic. Three adjectives they loved using to describe you.

“You’re getting too emotional again, niña, that has always been your problem. How do you expect us to take you serious like this? And think about this, you say we’re always acting as if you’re the problem, but in reality it’s you doing that. You always blame everything on us, your horrible family. Poor you with parents, aunts and uncles that support you!”

Condescension was something you were used to, and it had always made you feel very tiny and incredibly mad at the same time. You were an adult for crying out loud, not a little kid. And still in that moment you felt exactly like that.

“Fine, you know what, I can see that this is totally pointless! I don’t even know why I thought I should try again. So I’m just going to tell you the one thing you need to know; once this season is over I’ll go to Mexico to play there. So I guess, see you never?” You yelled, turning around and stomping out of your childhood home, without giving your family any chance to reply. What was the point?

Tears were already streaming down your face as you ran down the street to where Ana was waiting. Your girlfriend saw you coming; she had been keeping an eye out for you practically from the moment you had kissed her goodbye.

When she saw you rushing towards her, Ana’s heart broke. She had hoped this would go better, but your demeanor and the fact that you were back so soon told her everything she needed to know.

Ana quickly clambered out of the car to meet you with open arms. You fell into them, allowing yourself a moment to completely lean into your girlfriend and absorb some strength from her. Not too long though, you didn’t want to risk anyone catching up with you.

“Come on, let’s go,” you requested, already moving to the passenger’s side.

The drive home was mostly silent, your girlfriend held your hand whenever she didn’t need both of them to drive, and only asked you in the very beginning if you were ready to talk. You just shook your head in response. First you would have some more crying to do, before you could even hope to use words.

And you did exactly that, once again safely tucked away in your girlfriend’s arms. You couldn’t wait to get to a point in your life where you didn’t need so much comfort anymore.

“How are you feeling?” Ana prompted once she noticed you were ready to talk. She had seen you biting your cheek, contemplating how to start the conversation and decided to help you out with questions.

“I didn’t have much hope to begin with, but apparently I still had some that could be crushed. And also…,” you stopped, uncertain if you should continue. It felt like you kept bringing up the same things; shouldn’t you get over them at some point?

“Also?”

There was nothing but love and concern on your girlfriend’s face. You didn’t have to worry about her judging you, this was a safe space.

“I’m so annoyed with myself. I couldn’t even say much before I ran away. I can just hear them calling me a dramatic little girl who runs away as soon as things get though”, you gritted out.

Ana tensed at your harsh words towards yourself and she forced herself to count to three before answering, not wanting to sound too intense. There was however nothing she could do about the emotions lingering in her voice.

“Please stop listening to their voices in your head. I don’t think removing yourself from a bad situation is running away, that’s a smart move really. You need to take care of yourself.”

You nodded thoughtfully, “You know I’ve been thinking about that and realized I often put their needs and wants over mine. But I guess putting others first only works if they do the same. Otherwise if I always put them first, but they never put me first, I’m just always going to end up last, right? I think that’s what’s been happening all my life and I’m done with it!”

“Absolutely! If anything your parents should be putting you, their child, first. That’s what my mom said when I talked about it with her. She also said some other things, but I’m not sure if you want to hear them or if it’ll just make you sad.”

Ana studied you carefully, every sign of pain embedded in your body hurting her as well. She hated how that you had to deal with this, so the last thing she wanted to do was to add any pain to it.

“No, please, tell me. I think it will be helpful, hearing what an actual good parent thinks about all of this,” you requested.

You had only met Ana’s parents twice before, but they had been everything you wanted your own family to be. They were excited to see their daughter, but expressed that without making her feel guilty for not being around more. And they had welcomed you with open arms, clearly very pleased that Ana had found a special someone to share her life with.

“She also said that nothing makes her happier than seeing us, her kids, living our best life. Not some life my parents pictured for us, but the life we choose. She can’t really understand why so many people try to force their kids to be something they’re not. According to her slowly getting to meet your children’s truest self is one of the biggest joys of them growing up.”

Your eyes filled with tears again causing your girlfriend distress. You had been sitting opposite each other, hands intertwined in between you, but now Ana pulled you into her embrace again.

“See, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” your girlfriend cried out.

You shook your head, “I wanted to hear that, I needed to hear that. It makes me feel less unreasonable and ungrateful.”

Ana gently kissed the top of your head, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “You’re anything but, you’re absolutely amazing.”

The longer you were with your girlfriend and the more she told you things like these, the easier it became to believe them. It wasn’t easy or natural yet, but you found yourself questioning your old beliefs much more often.

You didn’t speak more about it that evening, indulging in some self care instead. However, a few days later you recognized that it was still bothering you. There was no way you would try again, but it also didn’t feel right to shut the door to your family completely.

Surprisingly when you brought it up to Ana, one day after training when you were cuddling on the couch, you practically on top of your girlfriend, she informed you that she had been thinking about that as well.

“How about you set up an email account just for them? This way you can check it every once in a while when you feel up to it, or I can even check it if you prefer. That would allow them to contact you if they have a change of heart, but you aren’t constantly bombarded with unwanted messages.”

A huge weight was lifted from your heart when you heard this suggestion. That was precisely what you wanted, some small gap left open, but nothing that would affect you in your everyday life. The last thing you wanted was to constantly get attacked by hurtful messages.

You placed a few kisses everywhere on your girlfriend’s face, uttering one word between each kiss,”You. Are. The. Best. Girlfriend. In. The. World. And. I. Love. You. So. Much.”

Ana happily accepted your kisses. “So, no second thoughts about moving to Mexico?” She inquired cautiously.

“Not a single one, I’m so excited for it, and I won’t let my family ruin it. Plus it would be the same if I stayed here. If anything being not only in another country, but on another continent might actually be good for me.”

“Good, because I’m very excited about it,” your girlfriend announced with a big smile.

“Me too,” you agreed.

In fact you couldn’t wait to start that adventure with Ana. You had never allowed yourself to be an adventurous person, telling yourself, or really being told by your family, that you were anything but.

However, now you realized that you did have an adventurous streak and it was high time you used it. For too long you had lived the life everyone else wanted you to live, but now you were getting another chance at life, at the life you truly wanted.

You didn't even wait until you moved to Mexico. A few days before leaving, you dragged Ana to a hairdresser, stating that both of you should change up your look to start over fresh.

What you didn't expect though, was for your girlfriend to decide she wanted to color her hair pink. You had thought about something more along the lines of cutting your hair a little shorter.

But then Ana announced with a big grin that she was going pink, and you made a split second decision, telling the hairdresser to whip up some purple hair dye for you.

And that's how the two of your started off your new life, one of you pink haired and the other one purple. You loved the way it looked and couldn't care less when pretty much the first thing out of Jenni's mouth when she picked you up from the airport was, "Where are you two going? A five year old's birthday party?"

"Shut up, Jenni, you're just jealous of us," Ana retorted.

Jenni rolled her eyes, "Maybe, but I get a feeling you're going to help me get over that by annoying me with your lovey-doveyness."

"Absolutely," you agreed, pulling your girlfriend against yourself and kissing her passionately.

"Fine! I'll stop if you stop!" Jenni exclaimed, grabbing one hand from the both of you and marching you towards the exit. "Bienvenida a México, chicas!"

[cookii-moon]

Introducing… the Perfectly Neurotypical Ninja!!!

(I had an idea and thought it’d be funny)

our first incredibly neurotypical ninja is…

✨ JAY! ✨

Has zero volume control whatsoever

He can NOT be quiet for the life of him

There is no way he doesn’t have some form of anxiety disorder

Like his entire panic and fear definitely seem like anxiety to me

Has a plushie he still sleeps with for comfort and is emotionally attached to (which is super real of him honestly)

Panic attacks

He DEFINITELY has hyperfixations

Have you just seen him in general

That one short where he just starts running around on the roof

Also that one time he and Kai were supposed to train and got distracted by competition (Actually this could probably apply to all the ninja because they do this type of thing all the time)

Got so hyperfixated on dancing games that he learnt how to dance

I don’t think he can sit still it just doesn’t seem possible to me

(I’m not a Jay fan so I can’t point to much else off the top of my head but we’re all in agreement there’s no way he’s neurotypical right?)

Okay never mind, our FIRSt neurotypical ninja is…

✨ COLE! ✨

Talks to himself. A lot.

No seriously he talks to himself so much

Professional school dropout

Gets along great with animals and people who don’t fit in

Probably has owned a pet. Or five. (Probably a cat or a reptile) (he came around to them eventually and now he loves them) (dogs are too energetic and loud)

Most likely has depression

Definitely has sensory issues there’s no way he doesn’t

That one time he nearly had a breakdown from being overwhelmed. (Points to core shorts)

Dislikes metaphors (canon)

Wears the exact same hoodie without fail in every single episode where he has to wear civilian clothing (I think it’s a comfort thing at this point)

Probably taught himself several different ninja things he had no need to learn (why can he fight with a sword and nunchucks when he never uses either of them outside of a single special) (this also applies to shields and staffs and throwing stars but those are at least practical)

He says it’s to prepare but really he did it for fun

Has somehow not discovered his ninja special interest yet

(he physically can’t do anything else it’s too boring) (even when he’s not ninjaing he needs to practice once a day minimum or else he explodes)

Dances when happy/excited (definitely not a stim)

Immediately starts telling Jay about dancing when he enters the contest in a very excited manner (definitely not infodumping)

Has caused several misunderstandings due to bad social skills (he can NOT read the room for the life of him)

His best friend is Jay.

(even if he’s not autistic there’s no way this guy is neurotypical.)

(these are not the actions of a neurotypical person we’re all in agreement of that right)

Whoops… uh…never mind…our FIRST!!!! Neurotypical ninja…

✨ NYA! ✨

Terrified of failure

Like it haunts her she does NOT want to fail she has an entire arc devoted to it

Has a hard time letting go of things (she holds grudges A LOT)

This also includes things of sentimental value like Samurai X

Change is difficult for her just in general

SUPER stubborn

Definitely has a schedule that she envisions in her head but forgets to tell everyone else

(that short where she planned to spend time with Jay but he was going to the arcade)

Short temper especially on bad days

The more I write this the more I realize how little characterization she actually gets for most of the series

Justice for Nya honestly

(I’m assigning her neurodivergence I don’t care how short this is)

(I think autistic. But spicy.)

(probably also anxiety or OCD)

(do you see the vision)

….Okay so maybe not that one either- Uh… our FIRST!!! Neurotypical !!! Ninja!!!

✨ KAI! ✨

Has anger issues. Probably.

Super impulsive

No like incredibly impulsive. Ultra impulsive.

Craves attention but has really bad self worth issues

Hinges his worth on his powers (not healthy)

Wanted to be useful so badly that he convinced himself he’d get powers if he drop kicked Garmadon (it did not work)

Did I mention anger issues

Wants to be useful so he can protect!!!

That one time he and Jay were supposed to be training and-

Has zero patience

(I don’t know what flavor of neurodivergent he is but he’s neurodivergent somehow)

(once again I don’t pay attention to Kai there’s definitely more)

…Okay so this time for sure. Introducing FOR SURE our FIRST neurotypical ninja….

✨ ZANE! ✨

Do I even need to say anything

The entire episode “Home”

Social skills

Taking things literal

That one canon (?) book where he apparently has flashbacks to the ice emperor (im calling OCD or PTSD on that one Zane)

Also that one time he locked away bad memories in decoded (decoded is canon to me and the reason for that is mainly because it actually references ghost Cole (iirc) which is a miracle)

Yeah I think he has PTSD

that one time he hyperfixated on and roleplayed as a detective and then a pirate

probably more. Maybe.

That one’s a robot he’s disqualified. The FIRST, FOR SURE, NO MISTAKES, neurotypical ninja is…

✨ LLOYD! ✨

The fact he apparently has so much of starfarer memorized that he can nearly win a quiz contest thingy and the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that he hadn’t read a brand new limited edition issue

starfarer in general he is not normal about starfarer

Way too trusting for his own good

I would be more surprised if he didn’t have some sort of disorder considering everything he’s gone through

hes got to have at least something related to his trauma right

(This one is way shorter because. Again. Not a Lloyd fan. but. I think the starfarer thing is enough to push him into probably not neurotypical territory.)

(most kids do not know the entire plot and all the fun facts to a long running comic book series by heart)

Are you kidding me none of them are neurotypical?

Okay ne- what do you mean the last one

there’s those ones over there!!!! *points to Arin, Sora and wyldfyre*

Oh wait they’re also neurodivergent?

…..uuuuugh shows canceled then…. Sigh… Guess I’ll start up the Incredibly Neurodivergent Ninja show instead.

(disclaimer this is a joke)

(but they are all neurodivergent that part isn’t)

[askinkiskarma]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴠ - ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ

pairing: neteyam x avatar!reader (part of the cardigan saga)

➽ a/n: it's neteyam and atan's world, and we're just living in it! hi besties and welcome to day 5, aka the day that almost killed me bc writing daddy!neteyam is actually much harder to me than i thought it could be. but i wanted so much to give this day to them, since they are my forever favourite pair from my forever favourite work of mine.

you don't have to have read cardigan for this to make sense, although it helps. i hope you enjoy, i've seen a lot of you besties reading cardigan recently and it's nice to know you wouldn't have had to wait as long for this prompt as my og readers, who i've promised this to for far too long hahahhaa my bad.

finally, this will continue in another (or two) kinktober prompts, so enjoyyy ;) x

➽ words: 1.7k words

➽ warnings: it goes without saying, but all of these works (kinktober-related) are smut and therefore minors should NOT interact with them. other warnings include: anal fingering, p in v, pet names, hair pulling.

➽ taglist (x) ➽ kinktober masterlist (x)

➽ na'vi compendium: atan - light, ma 'itan - son, kalin - sweet to the taste

“Come on, ma ‘itan. You have to let go of him at some point, you know?” Letting go of your son was harder on Neteyam than either of you ever envisioned. Well, not really. In truth, he’s always been a born father - loving, caring and attentive, he has been the unofficial parent of three kids ever since he reached puberty, and yet, it’s never made him bitter or deterred. On the contrary, it seemed that the birth of your son, the sweet Kalin, only made him more enthusiastic to put everything he’s learnt about parenthood to good use with his own family. Still, there were times, like right now, where you wanted to remember what it was like to be alone with your mate, the love of your life, the man who you’ve gone trough hell and back with. Solitude was a scarce resource right now, with a babe barely over a year old, but you were lucky to have a village full of people who were more than ready and willing to help babysit, and some who were more excited about it than others - like Neytiri.

“I’ve wanted to have this little one all to myself for so long, we’re going to have so much fun!” Her little coos were adorable and once more you couldn’t help be forever grateful for the person who’s been a mum to you for years now, who loved you and has done so ever since you were born. Although so different, you couldn’t help see your own mother in her, and you were reminded to pay her and your dad a visit at the Tree of Souls. It’s been a while. 

But for now…

“We won’t be too long. Thank you for doing this, sa’nok.” 

“We might be… a little long. Isn’t that so, Atan?”

You chuckled at the quiet desperation in his voice, and, with a roll of your eyes, you clicked in the direction of the tent’s entrance, wordlessly willing him out. This was going to be fun…

It was still risky, coming to the places that used to mean so much to you once, that you had to forsake when you moved to the Metkayina, that you got back once more once you returned home, but you couldn’t help yourselves. Not when these places, this place, in particular, has been one where so many memories, all shared between you two, were made, not when it still brings goosebumps on the surface of your skin, the thought of all you’ve lived through here, from learning how to swim and climb to conceiving your little bundle of joy that was safely back home. You never realised how much being a mother would mean to you - although it was always clear how much being a father meant to Neteyam. You’ve loved him all your life, but somehow never more than when taking care of your son, then when he showered you in love and affection, when he acted like the dad and partner you always knew he would be. 

“I miss this place so much every time we don’t visit for a few days. It’s like after all these years, and all these memories… it’s part of me. It always will be. And even now, I feel like a teenager, obsessed with you, desperate to look into your eyes, excited beyond belief at every glance or touch you send my way.” 

You couldn’t believe how even despite knowing each other since birth, being there for each other every day of your lives, your heart still galloped in your chest any time he spoke, and he still had so much power over you, power to take your breath away with words… and actions.

“Whatever you say… daddy.”

Neteyam turned around almost robotically, alert and frantic as he struggled to make eye contact with you in the least amount of time possible. You chucked at his demeanour, almost predatory, tail perked and unmoving, eyes wide and pupils even more so, swallowing the beautiful yellow of his irises whole. 

“What did you just call me?” 

You smirked and curved an eyebrow in his direction, enjoying the tingly feel that came with doing so, the goosebumps peppered on your skin after being conditioned to expect him to react to it, to unleash on you demons and urges that only you could swallow, only you could help quench. 

“Fuck.” A second later he was by you, and even after a few years in this body, his reflexes still amazed you, still took you by surprise. You gulped at the intensity in his gaze, a gulp that got stuck in your throat as soon as his fingers found your neck, as soon as they wrapped around it and squeezed in just the right way so you felt euphoric, so it felt like the beginning to a night to remember. 

“Atan, you have no idea what you started. But I’ll show you. Let daddy show you.”

His sultry words made your legs clench together, a desperate if futile attempt to cease the dew gathering in your beaded loincloth and seeping past the fabric onto the soft skin of your inner thighs. 

“Turn around.” 

It never took any effort on your part to wholly and relentlessly obey your mate. He loved control and for him, only him, you loved to give it up - you loved it when he manhandled you, his strong, muscular physique perfect for such a task, made to do exactly what he was doing now, spinning you in place and pushing you gently, but forcefully by your shoulder and lower back until you were on the ground, kneeling and waiting. 

“I’m gonna need this perfect little body on all fours, Atan.”

The ground felt moist and tender beneath your hands and knees, and you were so aware of every move, every breath, every fleeting touch of his nimble fingers on your body, slowly making his way from your neck, down your spine until he reached your hips, that he gripped with both his large hands, before giving a praising, appreciative murmur at the sight before him. 

“So, so beautiful. Look at you, spread open for me, making a mess before I even touched you. Daddy’s little slut.”

You nearly snickered at how quickly he adopted and adapted to the nickname, how natural it was, rolling off his tongue, how somehow, every time he said it, you got impossibly wetter, almost panting with the desire to be filled up with his cock, with his cum. You moaned softly when you heard him spit into his hands, and could only imagine the mouthwatering sight unfolding before you as he pumped himself, before plunging into the depths of the desire that would overcome you both. When he guided his rock-hard erection to the plush of your ass, gliding it effortlessly in between your asscheeks, over and over, all you wanted to do was scream for more. It felt wondrous and dirty, and you wanted it all, wanted him everywhere, all at once, all the time. Like the mindreader he always was, he spoke before you had a chance to voice your unrealistic feverous dreams.

“Let’s start with two fingers and work our way up, how’s that sound?” You appreciated him for his thoughtfulness always, but especially now, always ready and dutiful in making sure you were prepared, that your body was capable of taking him, of taking it the way he ended up wanting to give it to you.

“Words, Atan.” 

“Sounds go-good. So good.” 

“That’s right.” 

He was taunting you now, slapping the tip of his cock on your clit, dragging it against your folds before sliding into you with ease, while plunging two fingers into your puckered hole.

“Fu-uck! Fuck! Argh!”

The feeling was beyond comprehension,  beyond your wildest fantasies. It was always this good, always this mind-blowing and yet, you have never gotten used to it, never gotten used to the amalgamation of sensations and how they’d all accumulate to a night of orgasm after orgasm, until you were passed out on his cock, too tired to even mutter a tired I love you.

His hand was soft as it trailed up your body until it reached your braided hair, that he took into his fisted hand. When he tugged on it, as he slammed back into you, you cried out, moaning garbled attempts at his name. Your head pulled backwards as he used your hair to establish a brutal, ruthless pace of both his hips and fingers, and soon enough, you could feel your first orgasm as it approached, thunderous and violent and ready to take over you. 

“I can’t wait to be a dad again, I can’t wait to see your swollen belly and know you have made me the happiest man in the world every day of my life so far and will continue to do so 'til the day I die. I can’t wait to hold your hand when you bring our baby girl into the world.”

“But not tonight, Atan. Tonight, I want to ruin you. I need to ruin you. I need to watch my cum drip out of your every perfect little hole. Do you understand?” 

A meek nod is all you managed, the sensation too overwhelming to allow for any coherent, cohesive expression, the cried-out iteration of “yes, daddy. Yes, fuck, y-yes!” only audible in your head as you screamed it with all your internalised might. 

“Good girl. Come for daddy. I want to hear you, Atan.”

His words were enough to push you over the edge, and you came, vision blinded by the high, mind numbed by the way every nerve in your body felt electrified, alight with the pleasure that didn’t seem to want to cease, not even as you squirted on his cock as he continued to pump into you, the overstimulation enough to make tears fall down your cheeks and onto the ground. 

You didn’t have time to catch your breath, no time to gather any thoughts before he leaned onto your back, whispering seductively in your ear. 

“Ready for round two? You didn’t think I was done with you yet, huh?” 

taglist: @pandoraslxna @sulieykte @blue-slxt @eywaeveng @neteyamsikran @elenamoncada-ibarra @spicymayyo @itsjazzsworld @daddysmurfslefttoenail @eyrina-avatar @iameatingmyhair @hadesbabygurl @linydoll @the-mourning-moon

(pls complete the form in the beginning of this post to be tagged)

[kerizaret]

I have a hc that Saki picked up A LOT of various skills or knowledge while at the hospital that was just fun or distracting and a way for her to spend the days there and not be bored. Some of these are useful things, but others are just... completely random

Sure, she might've not had a chance to learn how to cook... But she can knit really well instead! The grandmas she met at the hospital were a huge help. All of l/n have at least one sweater hand knitted by her

Math was hard to learn when you didn't attend school a lot, but she found she's picked up learning languages a lot easier! So, she's been learning some by herself. She's really good at English and knows some Chinese too. She's even managed to pick up a little French because she thought it's classy. She's watched a lot of videos and movies and dramas or donghuas in original languages, and regularly listens to an English podcast on fashion. She ends up helping an embarrassed but very grateful Tsukasa with his broken English a lot later on, too, because she cannot listen to him. She's also practiced a lot of tongue-twisters which she can say really fast now, in all Japanese, Chinese and English

Also, sign language! She's learnt some basics of JSL

Obviously she's been following the trends a lot to see what's popular to wear right now, but then she got dragged into the hole that is fashion history... Now she can accurately describe you from memory what was commonly worn by any social class in various eras in Japan and also some in France (it's known as the country of fashion, after all! It's also part of the reason of her picking that language to learn), and knows the biographies of a lot of important fashion figures

She can fold very complicated origami deisgns by heart and also do miniature origami models. She's got boxes full of old origami sculptures(?) shes made over the years. She's also given a lot of them away to other patients when they were upset or when some were leaving the hospital, and also gifted some to all her doctors when she was finally discharged herself

She's TRIED to learn lockpicking, but the doctors once caught her sneaking out at night trying to pick at some medicine cabinet to practice and the conversation following it was so awkward that she didn't try it again...

She knows a lot about flower language (thanks to Ichika. They discussed that a lot whenever she came to visit her and brought a new bouquet in tow). She can solve a Rubik's cube in under a minute and shuffle cards really quick, too. She even knows a few card tricks. She can twirl a pen, which she later does A LOT in class, quote several poems from memory. She's learnt to write basic calligraphy

Because y'know, sometimes you need to do something new and/or time/thought–consuming to distract yourself from the bad and painful stuff. And in the end it's still something she can use now and be proud of and that she can share to make others happy, too. And just have fun

[megumi-fm]

this fortnight in megumi.fm ▸ bye bye march👋

ft. unchecked ambition to recreate of the hardest Kpop dances (only in vain), lots of code debugging, and using Yeolpumta the wrong way

💻 Internship // progress tracker

-> detecting pockets in protein structures using 3diff pipelines -> finding consensus pockets using outputs of pipelines -> pocket alignment of protein models by structural alignment with a set of known binding site structures -> read base paper -> weekly presentations [2/2] besides these tasks I've been trying to modify all my code files such that they can run directly from the system terminal (i hate edge cases and this entire process has taken years off my life) so that I can upload it on github

🎓 Uni Stuff

-> charted out a timeline for master's applications deadlines and related work

👟 Kpop dances!!

completed! 🔥bye bye ankles ⇒ I'd started this way before I messed up my ankle and then I abandoned it but we are so back... I picked it up last week and finally! it is done. 💪 bts' magnum opus ⇒ the main challenge is ensuring to hit every beat at the right speed and my rendition is still far from refined but hey. atleast my moves have developed some fluidity currently <3 🧢 left, right and just vibes ⇒ really needed a breather after the first two dances and now I'm here xD although the main reason I picked this dance was bc I loved the part switch version and all the references // ✅chorus + prechorus ⚡ crush...ing my motivation ⇒ so much for taking a breather. I've been obsessed with this song and I tried to start learning it and... four seconds- that's how much I've learnt in past three days. but the satisfaction when I got those four seconds? immeasurable. // ✅1st chorus pt1/3

💿 Other Things This week

📅 started my 18day habit challenge! by which I simply mean I'm using Yeolpumta as a daily tracker app rather than a study app and I'm loving it <3 I get excited seeing different colours marked on the daily calendar and as a consequence I've been more productive lately :D 🍊 been eating healthier! lots of fruit and water intake and I've also been learning to cook! 📖 The Myth of Sisyphus <3 I don't read a lot of non fiction but this piece is hella intruiging and I'm having a lot of fun 🍕 Lunch with the besties [x2] 🎰 Gaming Arcade shenanigans yet again 🎆 Fest at Uni! One of the best bollywood singers of all time showed up and he sang bangers from our childhood; we had a blast 🎧 lots and lots of kpop and for some reason I keep coming back to Advice by Taemin

[ 18th - 31st Mar; week 13+14/52 || and with that, 1/4th of this year is done. I'm pretty satisfied with how I how i spent the past two weeks, hopefully I'm able to stay consistent 🤞]

[mrghostrat]

i appreciate all the kindness for my uni rejection, and anyone going through the same thing should def read through my replies if they need similar comfort. there’s a lot of “ATAR isn’t everything!” comments tho, which made me realise i haven’t actually talked much about my goals, so i wanted to share a little context.

i’m 30 (on the 17th). i took a gap year after high school and i went to uni at 19. i even dropped out a semester before graduating to pursue the one thing that was making me happy (my first original comic) during a really bad depression (undiagnosed adhd burnout). i got the last units and graduated a year later, a bachelor of game design.

haven’t used my degree once. i went into comics and freelance rather than games. but i also loved that degree and would do it all again, it was absolutely worth it.

i’ve been freelance and self sufficient for 6-7 years, and it’s fun and i’m proud of the things i’ve made, but i’m so tired. i’m specifically tired of having to work 7 different angles to make up one sufficient salary, and even if it ends up being temporary, i’d give anything for a 9-5. have someone else in charge for once.

got to the end of my rope last year and sat down to figure out what i like and what i’m good at. a Life Plan, yknow. i’ve always had an interest in teaching, helping, connecting like that. figured out degrees and became really invested in this new trajectory i pictured my life going on. i was also tired of waiting, because every time i wanted to move back to the city from this tiny town we’re in, somethings come up or delayed it. so zita helped me figure out how we could get the ball rolling and break our lease 3 months early, so we could move back to melbourne and i could start my degree this year. we looked for (and found) an apartment specifically on the side of the city that would be closest to my campus.

i hope that gives a lil context as to why i’m so devastated right now. the last 5 months have been me revving up to start this new chapter at the end of feb and one little email said nah.

the degree i wanted to do was a double degree, secondary education (hons) and a BA of fine arts. i was equally excited for both, because i never got to do a lot of actual art learning in my last degree, and the BA would give me all of that— life drawing, sculpting, painting, wood/metal/jewellery working, digital, fuckin everything. but it was the less important of the pair, when it comes to getting myself a job as an art teacher, because i already have the art experience. it was just a fun bonus, and the education degree was the one i NEEDED.

in nov i had to travel to melbourne to present a portfolio and interview for the BA. they showed me around the studio too, and i fell a little bit in love. i got the acceptance email in december, but i still didn’t have an offer for the education degree. another reason why i’m so discombobulated— i technically have an invitation, but it’s for the less important degree that would just be a money sink. do i go to uni anyway?? or just ignore this invitation and move on?

my state recently made education/teaching degrees free as a way of encouraging more teacher jobs. i learnt about this after i decided i wanted to pursue teaching, so it was just a fun lil bonus that i wouldn’t be adding to my student debt. apparently not, bc i didn’t think about how every teenager and their dog would apply for teaching degrees so they could get straight into uni without any debt. so, even tho i’m a graduate and i’m not relying on school scores, i was one in a million, likely just numbers on a page, and didn’t get in.

there could be other paths. i could start the BA and add the Edu degree later? i could reapply for mid year intake. i could… idk, most of what i could do requires emailing Monash and asking wtf, because i have no idea what’s actually possible and will need someone to lay it out for me.

still feels like i’ve run into a brick wall though. little bit shut down. more sad, not quite angry, but suddenly really spiteful for some reason— like “oh, you don’t want me? okay fuck you then, i won’t ever teach.” so stupid. just a bit fragile rn

[blueberrypie20]

Ubuyashiki Jun'ichi backstory post + Taisho secrets/fun facts!!

Jun'ichi Ubuyashiki is Kagaya Ubuyashiki's only living sibling, 4 years younger than him; 19 years old and a hinoe. Their mother died while giving birth to him, leaving the older brother alone as the head of the corps with an infant brother.

Not having anyone around to take care of the ubuyashiki brothers, Jun'ichi quickly learnt to handle himself on his own and satisfy his needs without asking for help, understanding the prsssure on the family and Kagaya's duties even as a young boy and thus quickly gaining maturity.

As Kagaya married at thirteen, Jun'ichi started feeling distanced from his brother. He was busy commanding the corps and making a heir; Jun'ichi couldn't be the next heir so him staying alive seemed to have no use. For a while, he kept on wishing that his weak heart would stop beating before he would make another burden to Kagaya and his family.

Despite his calm nature, Jun'ichi's a very adventurous person and, as a kid, he enjoyed investigating the woods surrounding the estate. One year after his brother's marriage, when he was around ten years old, he got lost in the woods near sunset. Knowing how worried everyone would be and that his brother would be distracted from his duties, he kept on pacing around the forest to find a way out, only to get further lost.

And somehow, he was attacked by a demon who lived there, so near to the estate (even so, it was repelled by the wisterias, so it wouldn't be a threat.) He usually carried a pack of wisteria with him, but this one time he'd lost it. He was a perfect prey.

He thought maybe his generation wasn't an exception and there will always be only one ubuyashiki son left.

However on the last moment before it jumped on him, Jun'ichi remembered his 14 year old brother's words.

"Ubuyashikis must cling onto life until the angel of death comes for them himself. Don't let anything kill you that easily now that you've survived, but also don't resist without reason when death comes for you."

A swordsmith that appeared to like Jun'ichi a lot, had made him a small dagger out of the same materials that make nichirin swords, just in case of self-defense. He pulled it out and managed to behead the apparently newly-transformed demon before receiving any serious injuries from it.

At that moment, he noticed the reason why he was still alive. He always assumed he was physically weak but he managed to behead a demon, barely at nine! His purpose in life was to become a slayer, and defeat Muzan Kibutsuji and his apprentices under his older brother's commands. He could be of use for the Ubuyashiki. For sure.

The news of him beheading a demon reached his brother and the hashira, everyone surprised from how someone like him could do that.

However Jun'ichi had already rejoiced, and now, he just wanted to get stronger. He knew his role now, and he wanted to fulfill it as good as possible. So he decided to ask the hashiras to help him; just putting a path in front of him would be enough. He knew well how busy they were.

Much to his surprise, none of them accepted, telling him he was still too weak to even wield a wooden sword, let alone becoming a demon slayer. He was frustrated and his logic agreed with the hashira, but his spirit couldn't afford to give in. He had to use other means.

So he carefully sneaked inside each and every of their estates, and watched how each of them trained. He learnt his swordmanship from Sanemi, his flexibility and reflexes from the Kocho sisters, and improved his focus, stamina and physical strength from Gyomei and Tengen. It still took him way longer than a usual slayer-in-training since no one directly instructed him and thre was a huge possibility of him getting caught, but he rathered the slow and steady way more anyway. Plus, to achieve his goals, he didn't seem to have any other choice.

Now all that was left was to learn a breathing style; however, with his weak heart, Jun'ichi doubted if he could ever master any of them. He continued training, however was losing hope since he wouldn't be able to learn them correctly and use them at full power.

Suddenly he had an idea. Why not come up with a breathing style on His own?

So he practiced slashing his wooden blade while using total concentration breathing day and night, getting hella exhausted but it was worth a shot since he now had discovered a breathing style that suited his body; breath of glass — he named it like that since it's a breathing style suited for people with weak physique, with bodies and hearts of glass.

He took the final selection with his only weapon being the same dagger mentioned earlier.

He spent six years training in total, and participated in the final selection at 16. His nephew, Kiriya, and his sister, were surprised to see their uncle there.

Kagaya was also surprised when a swordsmith arrived at the estate with Jun'ichi's sword.

His sword is a light variant of wisteria purple, and doesn't have a guard (yet?).

At first, he thought of using wisteria poison instead of breathing, but then he remembered that even the strongest of poisons might not work on some demons.

He still helps Shinobu in examining her poisons.

His crow is called Momotarou and, obviously, loves peaches. Jun'ichi always has some dried or fresh peach with him in a small bag to give to Momotarou whenever he comes to Jun'ichi.

Kimetsu Academy AU:

He's a high school third year student, best at math, biology and chemistry.

He's restricted from doing heavy exercises in P.E due to his heart, however only a handful of the students know about it yet. They just think Giyuu (+ the other teahcers) have a bias because Jun'ichi's the director's brother.

He's in the pharmacology club and wants to go to a medical university.

Tagging the amazings @love-stvrs @iincogneeto @larz-barz

[sleepymccoy]

Still thinking about a Star trek TOS Firefly au. So I'm gonna have fun writing it out.

I love the dynamic between Mal, Zoe, and Wash, so that's certainly becoming the triumvirate. Mal > Jim, Zoe > Spock, Wash > Bones. However Wash's job doesn't make sense for Bones so he's going to change to doctor.

Jim was on Tarsus 4 and suffered the same as in canon, famine leads to who lives lottery and he wasn't chosen but survived anyway. I think that makes perfect sense in the Firefly universe too, but I think unlike in trek Kodos is celebrated by the federation in Firefly for making tough choices and leading in a strong way. So he's not on the run, he's a constant background side threat who's still in power. The face of the federation in this version, but not the head of it. You feel me

After Tarsus, Jim and Bones met and became mates. I think Bones moved to a big fancy planet for his wife and child after a bit. In the meant time, we have Spock!

This got massive, have a readmore

Spock is the result of eugenic experiments (there's no aliens in Firefly 😢) like the serenity thing that the og story is about (but generational eugenics not brain poking)(because I want there to be many others, just also in hiding and with their own political factions and opinions) but his resulted in Vulcan-like stuff. I think he's still got the pointy ears and has excessively strong emotions that he's learnt to hide completely cos he was raised in a medical facility by cold scientists instead of parents and love. There's schools of thought about them, some want to integrate, some want them exterminated, some want them to form their own society. The federation stance is these eugenic things don't exist and if you see one kill it because it officially doesn't exist. So Spock is forced into hiding and hasn't really had a chance to form his broader opinion, cos it's academic anyway. They're all hiding now.

So, Spock's escaped (more on that later) and in hiding. He meets Jim and they click, probably meeting in some silly battle. I reckon Spock has ways to get away from the feds that Jim wants to learn, so Jim pushes for them to team up. They spend some time together either on someone else's ship or on a smaller ship just them two.

After a while that comes to an end and they put together a crew and buy a ship together. They hire Sulu and Chekhov who are a criminal team who need to get off this rock very fast please. Chekhov can fly wonderfully and has enough engineering knowledge that they're like hey we maybe don't need someone in the engine room!

Sulu is a jack of all trades. It takes a few months for them to realise how useful he is, he always has a skill they need and always knows someone who'll play as a contact. Absolutely invaluable.

Eventually the engine breaks beyond Chekhov's skill to fix and they've all heard of Scotty. Everyone knows about Scotty. I think this would make a good episode one.

They work Sulu's contacts and find Scotty who is, lo and behold, having a drink with his mate disgraced Doctor McCoy. Spock, immediate dislike, this guy is a doctor. Jim, holy shit! Bones! Why the fuck aren't you emailing me back!?

Turns out Bones has gotten divorced and threw a bit of a fit in a hospital and can't work on a core planet anymore. He agrees to join the crew and Scotty has some issue that forms most of the episode plot and joins too cos hey, crims gotta keep moving

The ep ends with meeting Uhura, who manages a lot of the residual resistance movement's comms. She's the most political of the bunch, but Jim is absolutely in agreement and so chuffed to meet her even tho he's never been too war-y before. Scotty and Sulu already know her. She takes a kind of Inara role on the ship, but she's not companioning, she's boosted the comms in the shuttle and is continuing this work. It's great for her cos she gets to move around and be hard to catch, and it's great for the ship cos it gives them access to loads of underground people who aren't the hated federation

I also think she helped Spock break out back in the day. I'm not sure if she was part of it and they've met, or if she helped run things so she knows Spock but he doesn't know her. She's gonna be their reason for getting accidentally involved in larger things in the story and why they get more altruistic with their jobs. Spock also pulls them into some of the eugenic stuff

I reckon episode two needs some Spock eugenic stuff to happen so that Bones can solidify himself as on team Spock in action even if he has a go at Spock. Cos everyone else follows Jim's orders and Jim is team Spock, so I think Bones needs a chance to prove it. To great danger to himself ofc.

Repeat characters (like in Firefly they have Badger and Saffron who rock up as major non crew characters) are Chapel and Rand. I think Chapel is still on a core planet as a nurse. I would have her join the crew in season two, to look for her missing husband. But in season one she can be an insider informant for the hospital heist episode, which they do mainly for the medical equipment cos Bones has like nothing to treat people with. And maybe Spock has some additional medical needs that Bones needs to learn (Spock hates this)

Rand is like a bit of Saffron energy but less totally untrustworthy. I think she works them for her benefit but in a way where when they meet again they're like hey Janice you're not allowed on the ship but it's great to see you! Like, maybe she hijacks them to get her somewhere or stows away super inconveniently. Or maybe she just steals from them old school style and has a very all's fair in love and war vibe about it. She just doesn't hold any resentment, so it's hard to resent her

If I were to cast this show I'd cast Bones and Jim and women because I think it needs more women, might as well put them in positions of power, and honestly I think Spock's character with the emotional repression and all would change being cast as a woman whereas the others wouldn't. Spock's character in this is gonna be playing into stereotypes and expectation to stay in hiding, and those change as a woman

I've definitely got less tension on board than Firefly. There's no Jayne equivalent making life hard for everyone, but you could write an arc in for Chekhov like that if you wanted to. He could go from disliking the danger Spock and Uhura bring to absolutely admiring them over like two seasons. Could be interesting, but it's not got much to do with trek really

There's no shipboard romance here either. There could be something cool in the Scotty/Uhura that happened later in trek canon. Maybe they've got romantic history, so when she joins the ship there's tension and they just fall into bed together pretty quickly. But I'd only put that in if it added something else to the story, which it might! I'm not actually writing, I'm brainstorming

And similar to what the did in Firefly I think Spock/Bones makes the most sense. Cos we don't need proof that Spock and Jim understand each other, they're captain and first officer. They have each other's back absolutely. And similarly with Jim and Bones, they'd have old loyalty and friendship to draw on. And I think they also just obviously get along. But Spock and Bones could do with some plot prodding along, so I'd do something like the Simon/Kaylee romance where there's tension and clear desire but they're bad at making it happen. There's too much in the way. But it adds reason for Bones to have Spock's back (cos we're coming at at the start of their friendship, not years into their five years mission) and you can occasionally see Spock relaxing the emotional wall with someone other than Jim as he develops more serious a crush

I want to see! The Niska episode where Jim and Spock get nicked and tortured, and Bones goes in to trade for them back. He can only afford one but true to the Empath ep he just trades himself and volunteers for the torture.

I also want to see a Jaynestown style ep where Scotty or Sulu are the hero. I think probably Scotty. He'd be easy to write as selfish in a he only cares about tech kinda way and then to find that he accidentally did this would be funny. He also likes to keep a low profile generally so it's extra hilarious

Hospital heist ep, with Chapel cameo. I don't think anyone's handing Spock over to the feds, but maybe they get caught and Chekhov tries to trade Spock for their freedom? Not in a pre planned malicious, but more that he just doesn't prioritise Spock's safety over everyone else's. He sees it as a last ditch leverage effort, for the greater good. Could be good drama

Saffron style ep with Rand but she steals from them. I do think that's hilarious, showing them be the mark. And I'd let her win, leave them stranded without whatever thing it is she fleeced and having to find a new magical tech engine bit. But hey she left some booze as an apology and made out with Jim so it's not too bad

I really like Firefly

[hallowbees]

good evening rottmnt community. so i haven't written fanfic in almost a decade, but whilst taking a break from working on a rottmnt fanfic, i have written... another rottmnt fanfic. i wanted to play around with different povs and tenses than i usually use, and decided to use casey jr and the future timeline to try it out - it was super fun to write, so i thought why not share it!!

you're a lifesaver, casey jones

fives times casey jones junior saves the resistance, and the one time it doesn’t feel like a victory

five months old

You’re only five months old when you save the resistance for the first time. You’re so young.

The shattered remains of a home cradle you, muscle memory from the years of keeping a family long gone safe and warm, and even if you can feel the wind as it whistles through the cracks in the bricks and the sky looms red, enemy drones and rubble floating above you like a cot mobile, you don’t cry. Your little life has already taught you the harshest lesson of the apocalypse, and it’s not that crying won’t get you anywhere; crying will get you somewhere alright, six feet deep in a grave if the wrong ones hear you. Of course you don’t actually know that, not in that way at least, but you do know crying only ever wears you out. Tough lesson to learn, ain't it kid, but you learnt it well. You might just make it yet. 

There’s no telling how long you’ve been here- could have been five minutes, could have been forever, it's all the same to you. It’s unlikely that there are any coherent thoughts rattling around in that little brain of yours yet, but if so, they might sound something like this; I miss you, I miss you, where did you go? I’m hungry, it hurts, I miss you. Where did everyone go? I miss you. The same thoughts plague most brains these days, everyone’s got a ‘you’ to miss. We’ll all be ‘you’ someday, if we’re lucky. God, this is all quite morbid isn’t it, little one? It’s okay, though. Remember, this is a story about how you save them. It’s a happy story, you’ll get your happily ever after, even if they don’t all live.

She looks a lot like you, strangely. It’s something about the eyes, dark and strong, and the general aura of defiance. Maybe that’s why she finds you first, she feels a kinship in your ‘warrior spirit’, as she calls it, ‘a true fighter’, she calls you. ‘They are a baby, babies cannot fight. Primarily because they are still in the very early stages of fine motor skills development and cannot wield weapons yet, amongst other reasons.’ another voice says, but he doesn’t know just how hard you already have fought, will fight still. You’re there, and that is everything these days. She comes to your defence, proclaiming you ‘the strongest fighter of the resistance’, and ‘silence, purple one!’. You can’t tell that the second shout isn’t aimed at you, but what you can tell is that it's warm in her arms and now you only see her and not the broken sky above you. It’s not ‘you’, and you’re still not sure where everyone went, but this still feels comfortable. This feels like home, you think.

That’s the moment you break, and the tears start. You cry, and you cry, and you are surrounded by her. Her voice is low now, a tone rusty in use but so sure of itself as she tells you that you’re okay, you’re safe, she’s got you. ‘Poor thing, they must be so scared.’ comes a new voice, and there's a blur of orange (once you figure out what orange is, it’ll become your favourite colour, one of four favourites) over her shoulder. ‘Ain’t we all.’ comes a low rumble from behind. ‘They won’t be anymore. We’ve got them now.’ she says, and that’s how you meet your strange little family. Some of it, that is - there are more, an aunt and a grandfather or two, so many people ready to love you. 

She doesn’t just give you a name, she gives you hers. You’re Casey Jones Junior, a reminder that something always comes after. You don’t know yet how badly Casey Jones Senior had needed that reminder - she’s spent her whole life in pursuit of what’s next, in hopes that its greater than what’s now (a promotion, a resurrection, a fabled leader) and despair that it never is (better luck next time recruit, they could do it all without her, she breaks the chains that spell his downfall herself). When she finds the apocalypse next, she starts to think that maybe nothing next would be quite alright, but then there’s you and for the first time she truly feels like she’s on the right track. 

She carries you home, her family around her and in her arms, and Casey Jones Senior resolves to keep fighting another day. 

four years old

In your defence, such a sharp weapon should have never been left in your curious reach. In his, there's so much to keep on top of when you’re spearheading a resistance that if a sai or two get misplaced in the process, can anyone really blame him? Your hand is being patched up as he is berated once again, because ‘you know that weapons stay on you at all times, Raph’, and ‘why are they even sharp? Aren’t sai meant to be blunt?’. He groans out something about being a stupid teenager once upon a time, wondering what would happen if he sharpened his weapon the same way his brother did his swords, much out of the same curiosity that got you into this very predicament. He sounds like he might cry, but you can’t work out why. It’s your palm that's bleeding, and you didn’t even make a peep. That might have been the problem, though - no one noticed until your blood was smeared across the floor and that’s a sight no one can stomach. You were scooped up quickly, and he looks haunted. ‘He’ could have been anyone in the room.

“Raph’s sorry, lil’ guy.”. He’s gentle, so gentle, as he kneels before you and takes your bandaged hand. “I promise I won’t leave ‘em out again like that.”. There’s no promise that you won’t get hurt again, because no one likes to break a promise, but the way he smiles at you, still so gentle, makes all the pain go away.

“Can I hold ‘em again when I’m bigger please?” you ask, and of course you can’t see it but there’s a little sparkle in your eyes as you look up at him, glimmering like the stars that are still above you even if you can’t see them anymore, in the sky that no longer belongs to Earth. Let's look on the bright side though; it could still be ours again someday.

“Um… if your Mom says you can, then sure thing, buddy. But only when you’re older.”. Your mom will say yes, she always says yes because there is nothing that a Jones cannot do, so you cheer and throw your tiny little arms around his far bigger neck. You can’t hold all of him, so you just squeeze extra tight so he still feels the love all over. A hand comes to pat you on the back, and you certainly feel loved in his hold. 

“Why’d you want to hold ‘em so bad anyways, bud?” he asks, and you grin. It’s big and toothy, with a little gap right at the front where you lost your first tooth, and thank god that you lost it in the natural way, and not the way most people lose teeth these days.

“I wanna be just like Uncle Raphie!”. He melts, and the tears are back. Rather than wipe them away though, he just squeezes you closer. 

It’s one of the last memories you’ll get of Raphael, so please hold onto it. Hold onto it just as tight as you held onto his neck that day, held him long enough for the blood to seep through your bandages and make its mark on his skin. 

…

Well, anyways - there’s a conversation later that night that you’re not privy to. You’re probably fast asleep by your mother’s side when the clock strikes this antisocial hour. 

“He’s so little. Too little. Casey shouldn’t be even thinking about holding weapons yet.”.

Yet, yet, yet, it’s always yet. Weaponry is waiting for you in the future, and no one can lie, there are keen eyes on you as you play around the resistance base, to spot any signs of affinity for particular weapon types and fighting styles (you’re fast, get up close and personal, and there will be a brute force behind your hits if you really want there to be - someone offhandedly mentions hockey and the blueprints are already being drawn up). 

“Maybe it would be better to start him young. It is inevitable, after all.”. That’s probably the toughest pill for them to swallow, that when you grow up (if, if you grow up - that would be even harder to choke down if they would let themselves even consider it) you’ll be thrown to the front lines. 

But hey - we’re looking on the bright side, remember?

“C’mon guys, enough with the doom and gloom! Think of it this way - at least there will be someone to keep on fighting after us. And he’s going to be far more prepared than we ever could have been. Seriously, he’s like, the apocalypse nepo baby.”. You’d be shocked by how funny the apocalypse could be sometimes. It has to be, because if you don’t laugh you’ll cry, and you already know where crying gets you. It’s not the best joke, but it gets a snort from someone. “He’s got no choice but to succeed. I’m calling it now, Casey’s gonna be the one to end this someday. ”

“S’not much of a bright side. He’ll still have to fight.”. 

“Chin up, big guy. Look at what we’ve achieved already. The kind of things Casey’s going to do with all of us behind him? It’s looking pretty bright to me.”. It goes unsaid that most of them probably won’t be there to see it, but it’s enough for now. The thought of you seeing the other side of this war, even if you have to fight for it tooth and nail, it’s enough to let Raph truly think about what the end of the apocalypse could look like for the very first time since Hell arrived on earth. He thinks of the stars, how they’re still shining brightly and how we will see them again. He can even see a small smattering of them in the bleeding sky when he lays dying a few days later, and his final thought is that maybe we’re already starting to turn the tides. 

seven years old

Most people will probably tell you that celebrating a birthday is a waste of time, resources, and energy. The most cynical of the bunch would probably tell you that we don’t actually know when your birthday is, so why are you so confident that it’s today? But, and please don’t repeat this language, fuck them -  you’re seven years old, and isn’t that just incredible? You feel like the luckiest seven year old in the entire resistance (you’re only one of three in this branch, and Laura’s leg got broken yesterday, so your competition isn’t exactly tough) when your culinary wizard of an uncle manages to scrape together some sort of cake. The adults around you grimace a little when they bite into it (culinary wizard he may be, but there’s only so much magic can do), but you think it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s dry, and sticks to the roof of your mouth, and you’d hesitate to call it chocolate, but you go in for a second helping, and no one stops you because it’s your birthday! There’s more than enough to go around; your family has gotten a little bit smaller, after all. They’re never truly gone though, because you can always see his red bandana, and you’ll always share your name with her. You don’t really remember anything more than a grey blur, but your grandfather’s famous battle cry continues to echo across the frontlines. You make sure to enjoy your second helping even more than the first, just for them. 

There is one slice of cake left, and it has no business sitting on the plate looking all lonely like that. You’re not sure exactly why he didn’t show up this time, but you’re not going to let your special day pass by without seeing him. It may be your day, but the things that make you happy are so much sweeter when you share them; you think it might be because you love your family’s smiles more than anything else in the whole entire world. Pushing yourself up from the comfortable pile of mostly everyone you love on the floor (if some missions had been shifted around to make sure everyone could be here for you today, then no one was going to complain), you pick up the plate and go to find the missing piece of your family’s jigsaw puzzle.

“Where are you taking that, Case? Trying to sneak a third helping?”. Voices are light, and maybe it’s the most at ease you’ve ever seen your family. Today really is special.

“Nope, it’s Uncle Donnie’s and he’s gotta eat it today because tomorrow it’s just cake and that's much less exciting than birthday cake.”. You’re on a mission, just like the ones your uncles and aunt go on, ones you can’t wait to join them on someday, because you don’t want to be anything other than just like them when you finally grow up. Your aunt has even begun teaching you how to fight, and she always tells you what a natural you are (she feels so guilty about it, because it would be so much easier if you weren’t going to be such a powerhouse on the battlefield; there would maybe be cause to clutch you close to her chest and never let you go otherwise).

You might hear what’s said as you leave. “Casey, buddy, maybe you shouldn’t…”. You don’t let it deter you, even if you do.

“Nah, I say let him try. Maybe he’ll finally get through to that brilliantly dumb brain of his.”.

You guard the cake with your life as you run to the lab, because you can’t possibly wait a second longer to see him. This is the one thing that could make your day go from amazing to perfect. Call it your birthday wish, even if you didn’t have a candle to blow out.

You’re not actually sure when you last saw your uncle beyond a fleeting flash of purple at breakfast time, and that one night last week you had a standoff in the corridor at 3am, because you had a nightmare and wanted your Uncle Mikey, and he needed more coffee (if it was just a bit lighter, you’d have seen his damp eyes, and maybe would have figured out that he needed to seek out his brothers just as much as you). You know when you’re going to see him next, though - in about 30 seconds, because you’re standing in front of his door.

Knock, knock, knock. There isn’t a pattern, you just bang on the door with one hand, careful to balance the plate on your other. Bang, bang, bang. You’re greeted with the rhythmic bang of a hammer in response - or at least you think at first, it doesn’t take much waiting to realise that he probably hasn’t heard you. 

Knock, knock, knock. “Uncle Donnie! I have something for you!” you shout, right at the top of your lungs. Bang, bang - “Just leave it outside the door, I’ll get it later.” - bang.

Well, in that case - you sit down, cross legged and leaning against the door. Because sure, you’re bringing him the cake, but you’re really here because you miss him, and just want a little bit of his time. You think that sounds like a fair exchange; he gets a slice of your best birthday cake ever, and you get five minutes with your beloved uncle. Neither of those come around that often, so you should both make the most of it.

He must have underestimated your attention span, because he has the audacity to look shocked that you’re still there when he opens the door and you fall backwards into the lab with a shout of surprise. It’s only been 20 minutes; you’d wait so much longer than that for him. Miraculously, even in your speedy venture to the floor, the cake is still sitting neatly on its plate, and you hold it up with a wide grin. “I got you cake!”.

A million miles an hour is probably a gross underestimation of how fast your uncle’s brain goes at any given moment, for better or worse. The look on his face suggests that for a moment, his thoughts are speeding even by his standards, and then they promptly smash into a brick wall. You can tell by the way his eyes get a little bit too wide, and his mouth falls open a little - it’s an expression you only see in the rare moments he feels like he’s failed, although all you can see is a success - because there he is! You’re still grinning up at him from the floor, even if your arms are starting to shake from holding the plate up. He shakes away the expression, and quickly takes the plate from you. Only to swiftly discard it on a nearby workbench though, in favour of kneeling down and leaning over to look at your blinding grin. 

“Casey… is it today?” he asks, still a little too wide eyed. You giggle a little, because what else would it be, tomorrow? He does genuinely look lost though, so you nod. It’s rare that you know something that he doesn’t, but even if it might feel cool to outsmart the smartest person you know, you fill him in. “Yeah, it’s today! And it’s also my birthday.”. He’s quiet for a moment, teeth worrying his lips as his eyes flick away from your face. “And I’m seven.”.

“Not until 6:47pm.” he says, almost automatically. Once he realises what he’s said, his panicked eyes flick to the screen on his wrist, and you think he’s checking the time.

“You haven’t missed it! I made sure to keep looking at the hands on the clock so I could come and see you before you miss it.”. It’s the time that the scouting-turned-rescue mission seven years ago got back to the base, and an official mission report was made. ‘Baby boy, approximately 5 months old, found in rubble. No others found in immediate vicinity.’, submitted at 6:47pm. It’s never bothered you that it’s not the exact day or moment you were born, it’s the exact day and time your family became just that, and that's what really matters to you. None of your uncles know the exact time and day they were born either (the debate of who’s older still rages on till this day, not even the end of the world can put that argument to rest), so it means you’re just like them. You still can’t imagine wanting to be anything else. 

“Okay.”. He stands up, and offers you a hand. You take it, giggling as he pulls you up a little bit too far and your legs dangle. You kick them for a second, before he notices and puts you back firmly on solid ground. “I have two forks.”. 

You sit in the bean bags he has stashed in the corner of the lab, and the two of you share the last slice of birthday cake. He struggles more than the others to hide his distaste for it, but you think it tastes the best it has yet. The lab door has been left open, and you know that it’s not by mistake, because it could have been shut with a quick tap of a screen, but it stays wide open as the rest of your family files in. You’re all slotted together perfectly when the clock strikes 6:47pm, and you hear your Uncle Donnie sing the loudest as your family wishes you a happy birthday. You think it’s because you’re sitting closest to him, but everyone else can see the way his chest expands as he takes deep breaths, putting his all into his well wishes.

It was easy for him to forget that life isn’t over yet, even if what he’s been burdened with is creating and creating until he has something that will prolong it just that little bit longer. Amidst the cheers of ‘hip hip hooray’, he remembers that moments like this are exactly what he’s toiling away in the lab for. They haven’t gone anywhere yet though, and he doesn’t want to let even a single second of it pass him by again. Donnie actually smiles for once, because you are seven years old now and that really is something incredible. You see him everyday at breakfast after that, with actual food rather than just a mug, and he always has a fork for you. 

eleven years old

You’re just about in the double digits the first time you actually realise that you’ve saved the resistance. It happens so quickly - you’re still not old enough to be out on the field, but it’s all hands on deck when the krang brings the fight to your front door. Maybe don’t say this to anyone else, but you sort of think that it makes your age a moot point - if you can fight like hell when the hallways are caving in and there's pink, pink, pink everywhere, then surely you can join simple scouting missions? No one quite understands why you’re so eager to be out there on the field, and maybe you don’t fully understand either (you definitely don't understand just how dire it is out there, they’ve done a good job of keeping that from you so far), but you know that it’s what you want. It’s what all of your heroes do, after all. You know for a fact that your uncles wanted to be just like their own heroes when they grew up, and now that you’re finally getting taller and your arms are starting to gain a little muscle, why can’t you follow in their footsteps? The only difference is that their heroes were on the TV screen. You’re lucky enough to see yours in the flesh every single day. Two of them, at least. Purple now flutters alongside the fraying red. 

At first, it’s no different from all of the other hounds. It’s gross and dripping, what you think must be teeth gnashing and shockingly red. You’re not stupid, you know that it can’t be krang blood, you don’t think they even have it, but nothing can deter you from swinging your hockey stick right into its side (and you know you could do so much more than just crack it’s bones into tiny little pieces if someone finally listened to you and removed the child lock that Donnie was forced to add), sending it flying sideways. A little blood never bothered you, and it’s a good job, because you’re covered in it. Some of it might be your own, but there’s so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that pain doesn’t even stand a chance at stopping you. You feel so alive as you wipe some of that blood from your face (definitely not your own, you’d know if you had a head wound), but your heart stops as you see what was laid beneath the hound. 

It’s your aunt, or what might be left of her - you can’t tell if her chest is still rising and falling or not. She’s teetering on the edge of just being another body in the makeshift morgue, which you know is nearing full already. Your body wants to freeze, your tears want to fall, your voice wants to scream, but listen, here’s what you do instead: drop to your knees, bring your ear right up to her mouth to here those wheezing, determined breaths, then immediately pull the hoodie over your head to first clear enough blood to find the wound, and second put pressure on it as you scream out for help. You’ve got this. You’re doing so well, kid. Just remember to take a few breaths of your own in the middle of all of this chaos. 

Help doesn’t come, but another hound does. You don’t let it get close, as you put those little muscles to use and scoop her up. This one won’t get to her. It snarls at you, and you snarl back, flashing your matching bloody teeth. You turn and run before it can even think about pouncing, and even though she’s heavy, you’re still fast as you jump over rubble and dodge bodies you don’t have time to think about trying to save.

The medbay is still standing, proving that the decision to make it the most out of the way and difficult to reach location in the base was at least somewhat strategic. The krang hasn’t reached it, and based on the mutters of ‘code green’ and ‘it’s over’, they won’t this time. It’s still yet, yet, yet, as you know, but it’s not now so you shove your aunt onto a bed and don’t even wait for an adult to start grabbing bandages and needles. They do still take over eventually, because it doesn’t matter that you just saved Commander O’Neil’s life - you are still just a child. Just barely in the double digits. Hopefully one day you’ll realise this was never an insult, instead it was maybe the greatest display of love they could give you. No one escapes the apocalypse, but they still tried to give you routes out of it. The corridors are all collapsed now though, and you grip your hockey stick tight in your blood-slicked grasp as you watch your aunt be pulled back together into one piece. 

April’s probably the one person in the resistance whose resolve has never shaken, but that’s not to say it can’t still be strengthened. When she wakes to see your bloodstained hoodie discarded by the cot she’s found herself on, she’ll of course panic for a second. Thankfully, someone will quickly fill her in, tell her that the blood is her own, and the unbelievable story of the little child who dragged her from the jaws of the hounds. She’ll believe it though, because for starters, you're a Jones, and a Jones can do anything, of course. You’re also a Hamato, and if there’s one thing Hamato can’t do, it’s leave family behind. This spells the start of your official tenure as a resistance fighter, because your age is something you’ll outgrow, but your fighting spirit is something you will not.

It might also have something to do with the fact that much of the resistance lay dead all around you, their blood still clinging to your skin, but what do we always say? Look on the bright side. Stars are still shining, buddy. Time to join your heroes in taking them back.

fourteen years old

You don’t even have to do anything this time. You’re off somewhere with your aunt, maybe training, maybe laughing, ideally both. 

The way you save the resistance this time looks something like this: sparks of molten magic, and a pull he’s never felt before. He can’t deny it, it does feel like hope, but hurts like hell as it starts to crackle up his arms. He’s swiftly stopped, not by his own will, but he’s grateful when the fire splitting him apart fizzles out. It’s very quiet in the aftermath, because they know what this means. It means it’s possible. It means it's going to cost everything. 

They decide that it would be worth it though, if it gave you a chance. There’s no one else they believe in more than you. It’s been said for years, as far back as the days where the only time you shed blood was when you mishandled sai that now just sit and collect dust; you’re gonna be the one to end this someday.

That day should be far off in the future though, when they’ve had time to give you the mission brief, hand over the supplies, and give you a tight hug, not goodbye but good luck. There isn’t really a point dwelling on it now. Mikey just smiles as he tugs the bandages tighter around his arms, and relishes in the fact that they finally have a plan B that might just work out this time. It helps to reignite the optimistic fire he was reluctant to tell anyone was starting to burn out. 

+1. sixteen years old

You’re only sixteen years old when you save the resistance for the last time. You’re so young. I think it might really be the end this time, kiddo. 

You don’t even flinch when I bleed on you, you just tell me that you’ve got me, just as I had you all those time you scraped your knee or bruised your elbow. Not to be arrogant, but you said it yourself - you learned from the best. Sorry. I know it’s not about me, but there’s very little left these days to focus on. Let’s keep the attention on you though, because you’re about to finally save the resistance once and for all. 

All that needs to be said is ‘hope’, and Mikey knows it’s time for plan B. There’s no time for anything we’d planned, no explanation, no hugs goodbye or good luck, but the belief in you never wavers. Not for a second. You’re Casey Jones-Hamato Junior, remember? There’s nothing you can’t do, except leave your family behind. I won’t say that out loud, because you’ll argue that you are in fact leaving me and Mikey behind. Technically, I’d argue you’re leaving us ahead, because soon we’ll be the future. Again, I won’t say that, because if my last words are going to be a joke, I at least want it to be a good one. What you’re doing, in actual fact, is giving us a second chance. I don’t doubt for a second that you’ll find us back there. Our sky may now be lost, but they’ll take you to the highest rooftop and show you every single shimmering constellation and you’ll finally know an Earth that firmly belongs to us. Oh buddy, you’re going to love it.

The last I see of you, you’re crying. It’s one of the first things I saw you do, and now it’s the last. That first time all those sixteen years ago, I think you only started crying because you knew it was finally safe to call attention to yourself as Casey held you in surprisingly gentle but strong arms. Now, I can’t kid myself, I know it’s because you’re scared, and I’m sorry. But hey, you know how I like to look on the bright side - at least the last you see of me, I’m smiling. 

I hope that’s the last you see, at least, I know it won’t be long as a hound throws itself at me. There’s only one thing on my mind now, and it’s that you really are gonna do it. You’re gonna be the one to end this today. 

I’m real proud of-

[bucketspammer4life]

ranking the boxers abilities to cook, worst to best (Wii)

yeah dont take this seriously im evil

Aran Ryan - my god this man needs to be kept away from the kitchen, he sets everything on fire so much that he forgets what hes cooking and fucks it up

Soda Popinski - He def adds soda to everything, mind you soda probably wont go well with bread, he can make a mean stew though

Bear Hugger - dude, he just eats the ingredients raw and calls it a day, thats okay to some extent with lettuce, tomato,Apples, stuff like that, but get meat and eggs involved and it gets worse, unless hes out in the wilderness with a pot and a very shitty campfire, hes not making anything edible

Bald Bull - He can make some basic meals + some traditional dishes if hes looking at a recipe, its not really the best but its not inedible either, there are some hes really good at

Mr Sandman - He used to be as bad as aran with it, but he actually learned how to get better, especially at baking, he used to be a better cook during his teen years but he got rusty since he didnt practice enough thanks to boxing getting in his way

Disco Kid - He used to work as a cook so he has some remaining knowledge from those days, hes very good with vegetables and fruit, not much other than that though

King Hippo - Hippo island has a huge culture built around cooking, And hes no exception! He has studied cooking for years and still does, he has a soft spot for sweets and usually makes dessert, hes good at other kinds of cooking too

Great Tiger - He learnt cooking at a young age since he wanted to help out his parents and be a bit more responsible, so he practiced cooking a lot and got pretty decent at it

Don Flamenco - actually learnt how to properly cook when he first met carmen, She didnt like how he couldnt even make a proper salad without setting anything on fire so she taught him how to cook better, to this day, they still cook together and Don still somehow manages to fuck up something, still good at it though.

Piston Hondo - He had a love for cooking for a long time and still loves it very much, he always cooked with his mom and thinks of it as a fun way to pass time or prepare for matches (dont ask how it just helps)

Von Kaiser - give this man a grill and he'll cook up a feast without you even needing to finish your sentence, he learnt how to cook to take better care of his health since he had a bunch of health problems related to blood pressure and his doctor recommended him to eat healthier

Super Macho Man - this might be suprising but hes actually a great cook! He didnt bother hiring a cook for him since he thought it would be lame, he takes cooking classes weekly so hes rapidly improving

Glass joe - hes a slut for bread, specifically homemade bread, i think that tells you enough

[starsurface]

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Regressor Nitara w/ CG Bi-Han (Fic)

Bi-Han didn't hate Nitara.

. . . .

What? Was there supposed to be more to the sentence? Well it was true, he didn't hate her.

She mostly hung with Reiko and Havik, bugging Rain whenever she could. She was a . . . interesting person . . vampire. Bi-Han enjoyed her company, surprisingly. Oh the stories they both have of others being silly.

But she was closer with Sareena. The girls loved hanging out with each other. And Nitara liked having someone to gossip with . . . That wasn't Bi-Han half nagging, he was still good though.

So when she called him to come hang out, saying that Sareena was okay with it, he seemed confused.

"I'm here-"

"Bi-Bi!" Nitara smiled, patting her living room table. "Come here!"

". . . What is this?" Bi-Han looked confused, walking over.

Nitara pointed to the floor, "Sit."

The table was scattered with colorful paper, confetti, heart shapes, it was so bright and colorful.

He had watched Nitara a few times . . . Okay, he was assisted Sareena in watching Nitara, but he'll still count it.

"I learnt of a new holiday!" Nitara said proudly. "And I wanna make Mama something pretty! Which means you gotta make Mama something pretty!"

"A new holiday?" Bi-Han asked as he sat on the floor.

"Valentine's Day!"

Bi-Han knew of Valentine's Day, he was going to take Sareena to her favorite restaurant. But it made sense why Nitara was so passionate about the 'new' holiday. They didn't celebrate many of these traditions where they came from. Even Sareena got all gushy and happy when she learned of it.

"I see," Bi-Han nodded, Nitara was scribbling on a folded paper. "Whose that for?"

"Asharah," Nitara smiled.

Bi-Han looked at her paper, "Is that a . . heart?"

"Mhm!" Nitara nodded. "Isn't it pretty?"

Bi-Han slowly nodded, and that made Nitara happy. It wasn't . . . a bad heart. it looked a bit more like a blob with lumps though. But hey, Nitara was trying, he could giver her some credit. It was for Valentine's Day after all, she could have her fun.

"You start Mama's!" Nitara said, handing (shoving) a paper into Bi-Han's chest.

". . . Fine," Bi-Han sighed, grabbing a crayon.

Bi-Han decided that Nitara is very bossy when she wanted to be.

She kept on complaining whenever he said anything! His heart of ugly, or his writing wasn't fancy enough. 

It wasn't her fault . . . His card had to be amazing!! She couldn't let Bi-Han give Sareena an ugly card, that would be not nice. >:(

He'd be embarrassing himself, how could she let him do that?

Bi-Han sighed and just decided to let Nitara decide what he was doing. Where he was going to put what heart, what he was going to say. It was fine, he already had a Valentine's Day gift for her.

Suddenly, Nitara looked confused, looking around for something.

"What are you looking for?" Bi-Han asked.

"Blood?"

"You don't put blood on Valentine's Day cards," Bi-Han informed her. Nitara pouted. "I don't think Mama would like that on her card anyhow."

"Oh . . . I put it on Havik's card," Nitara decided.

Bi-Han smirked beneath his mask, "I'm sure he'd love that."

"Bi-Bi-"

Bi-Han cut her off, "Just Bi."

"Bi, what colors should we use for Mama's card?" Nitara asked, looking at her crayons. "I wanna start hers over, it looks ugly."

Bi-Han glared at her.

"Well, she likes a lot of reds," Bi-Han sighed. "Greys, blacks-"

"Reds!" Nitara nodded, grabbing the glitter and pouring it onto her card.

Bi-Han swiftly grabbed her hand, stopping her pouring, "That is way too much!!"

Half of it wasn't even glued to the card. Nitara blinked and flipped the card over, having all the glitter land on the table. She giggled as Bi-Han sighed again. He'd probably have to clean this afterward, wouldn't he?

Nitara frowned at her new empty glitter bottle, "I- The glitter went bye-bye, Bi."

". . . Yes, you poured it all over the table," Bi-Han struggled not to lecture her. Teaching, not lecturing, yelling and getting upset wasn't the right move. He could do this. "That's what happens when you pour it, it goes bye-bye."

". . . That's bull-"

"Watch it," Bi-Han warned her. "'Reena wouldn't like you saying those things, would she?"

Nitara stayed silent, pouting. She could get curse words past Havik, but not the others . . . So unfair.

But her cards turned out sooooooo pretty!!!

He got everyone they're favorite colors, Bi-Han even got her more red glitter!! She made some for all her friends, and Bi-Han made some too!

She eventually ran away to go take a nap, much to Bi-Han's dismay. Bi-Han helped her get off most of the glitter off her hands, which Nitara was happy about. He helped tuck her in and read her a story before leaving a note saying that he had left.

He sighed as he looked at the messy table. He was right, he was going to have to clean it all up.

He noticed a blue glittered card. how had he not seen that earlier?

Happie Vaentinee Day Bi-Bi Han!!

Bi-Han tried to hold back a smile, but coudln't. It was adorable. He was lucky no one was around, and he had his mask on.

He'd have to teach Nitara how to spell though.

. . . Had she done that for all the cards he didn't help her with?

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Alright, that's all for now!! Hope you guys didn't mind the spam content too much!! :D

[amirsirwrites]

Hi! I have a request! >:)

Tf2 mercs x GN!Reader who is selectively mute because of something that happened in the past, the reader only communicates by writing in a notebook or sign language. Then ONE DAY, the merc does something nice for the reader. The reader, all of a sudden, speaks and thanks the merc! (I think you alr did something like this with Scout but shhh)

Hi, anon! Sorry for the long wait. I've finally finished it and I hope you enjoy reading it! Also, yeah, I kinda did do something like this for Scout but it's alright hehehe :)

Mercs with selectively mute S/O that speaks for the first time ❤️

Requested

Mercs x GN!reader

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Scout :

He was so eager to learn sign language when he found out that you use it. Being a quick learner, he got a good grasp on signing very early into your lessons. He enjoys signing with you and often tells you lots of jokes through it. He makes you laugh a lot when he teases or makes fun of the other mercs in front of their faces by using sign language. He asked a lot of questions about your selective mutism so you told him all about what happened in the past and it had him crying a little bit. He wishes he could hear you speak but he doesn’t mind if you never do. However, one day when he randomly gave you a compliment like he usually does, you kissed him on the cheek and said, “Thank you, sweetie.” He freaked out and hugged you immediately, showering you with praise and kisses. “Holy shit, toots! This is amazing!”

Soldier :

He’s always been very understanding and learnt sign language so you can communicate with him properly. He’s not great at signing himself but he still tries it because he thinks it’s really cool. You’re always happy to help him improve. Honestly, he’s never thought about you actually speaking. It’s not that important to him since you two can communicate just fine. However, one day during battle, Soldier swooped in with a rocket jump and quickly saved you by killing the enemies around you. You walked up to him, gave him a kiss and whispered, “Thanks, soldier.” He welcomed you and charged back into battle, not realising that you actually just spoke. Only after the battle was over did he stop and realise what you did. He then ran up to you and picked you up, twirling you around excitedly and kissing you, “I’m proud of you, private!”

Pyro :

They were already well-versed in sign language before you two met since they can’t really talk through their mask and need a different way to communicate with people. You two got along straight away the second you met, bonding over sign language. They’ve never asked to hear you speak and they expected that you might never want to and they’re totally fine with that. You had other plans though. When you two were relaxing together, Pyro made you a flower crown and put it on your head, you smiled and said softly, “Thank you, dear.” They were so surprised and pulled you into a big hug, speaking back excitedly, “MMPH! MMMPHM MPHM!” They then gave you lots of mask kisses. 

Demoman :

You were honestly surprised at how well he was able to learn sign language when you were teaching him, considering how he’s drunk during almost all your lessons. He likes to try and sign with you but when he’s drunk, his signing is.. a little sloppy. Knowing that your mutism is a touchy subject that holds trauma for you, he has never really asked you questions about it and he definitely doesn’t expect you to speak. Imagine his shock when you said, “Thanks, love.” after he brought you breakfast in bed. He gave you lots of kisses and cuddles. He really loves your voice but he won’t ever pressure you to talk more. The fact that you felt comfortable enough to speak a bit with him had him tearing up. “This is the best day of my life, laddie.”

Heavy :

Since he’s still in the process of learning sign language, you talk to him by writing in a notebook. When he found out why you don’t use your voice to talk, he went straight to Medic to find out more about your condition and what he should and should not do around you. A basic summary that Medic gave is that he should make sure that you feel comfortable and calm always so that’s what he did. Heavy is very gentle around you. He’ll be checking in on you constantly, giving you little kisses here and there, and giving you massages if you’re stressed out. The possibility of you speaking hasn’t really crossed his mind since he’s more focused on just making you feel super comfy all the time. Well, he’s in for a treat. After he gave you one of his usual massages, you held his hand and spoke, “Thank you, honey.” He was shocked but after a few seconds, he wrapped you in his arms and whispered, “Little Y/n can speak. I am proud.”

Engineer :

You can bet this man became fluent in sign language a few days after meeting you. I mean, he does have 11 PhDs after all. When he’s talking to you, he likes to use sign language but if you want him to, he’ll use his voice. When he learnt that you can actually speak and just choose not to, he knew right away that it was because of past trauma. He has never asked you any questions about your mutism but he has told you that if you ever want to talk about it, you can approach him and he’ll listen. One morning, after he made you a cup of tea, you took it and smiled, “Thanks, Engie.” He stared at you in awe for a few seconds before smiling and pulling you into a tight hug. “You’re welcome, darl’.”

Medic :

Having a literal medic as your boyfriend has its perks, one of them being therapy. Yeah, you thought that he only knew how to be a surgical doctor but much to your surprise, he’s a great psychologist. He knew sign language before you met him and when you did meet him, he could tell you had selective mutism on the spot. With your permission, he helps you in your journey of overcoming your mutism by teaching you relaxation techniques and how to have good stress management. You also slowly work out your past trauma with him. After one of your sessions with him, you gave him a hug and whispered to him, “Thank you, doc.” He had proud smile on his face as he hugged you back. “You’re welcome, mein Schatz.”

Sniper :

Not long after you two met, he asked if you could teach him sign language and you gladly accepted. He talks to you by signing almost always because he just finds it more relaxing than using his voice. He appreciates the quiet so what better language to use than sign language. He has never brought up the topic of your mutism and has never thought about it. He’s the kind of person that prefers to leave trauma in the past and just focus on the present and the good things in life. The first time you speak to him is after he saved you in battle by sniping someone who was trying to kill you. You rushed up to him after the battle and kissed him, saying, “Thanks, boo.” He was flustered after that, rosy cheeks and stuttering voice, hugging you like there was no tomorrow. 

Spy :

He thinks that sign language is quite elegant. Using your hands to talk? He finds it beautiful and impressive. He picked it up in a month or two and uses it mainly when he’s complimenting you. He’ll sign things to you like, ‘You look stunning, dear.’ He knows that your mutism is caused by trauma so he’ll often remind you that if you ever need a listening ear, he’s there for you. He doesn’t mind if he never gets to hear you speak, he just wants you to be happy and comfortable. He definitely didn’t expect you to suddenly speak up after he gave you one of his usual compliments. He kissed your forehead and signed to you, ‘Looking lovely as ever, darling.’ You blushed, replying back, “Thanks, you look lovely too.” He gasped softly and smiled, “Mon cœur…” He hugged you, giving you a small kiss.

------

'Mein Schatz' - My sweetheart (German)

'Mon cœur' - My heart/love (French)