#he technically vets them in the sense that they're all like him in some way shape or form these days

[lvmimis]

Queen Mimi, does Izuku need to vet the new guys before they can join the harem?

empress* and also no but he wishes he could LMAOOOOO

[riddlerosehearts]

some thoughts on riddle's future career

i've seen a lot of fanart and fics where riddle is portrayed as becoming a doctor in the future, and a lot where he instead becomes a lawyer, and honestly i love it all because i just enjoy any version of adult riddle where he gets to be healthy and happy with his life!! but i've also seen some people say they dislike and/or don't understand why anyone would want riddle to be a doctor, when that's what his mother wants him to be and when he's expressed an interest in pursuing law instead. and i completely get where that point of view is coming from! it's understandable to want riddle to choose a career that's completely separate from his abusive mother, from the plans that she had for him and the trauma she inflicted on him, and it makes perfect sense to have him decide to become a lawyer because of that. on the other hand, though... i don't feel like that would be as easy and perfect of a solution as it sounds, and i also don't think having him be a doctor necessarily means he's just doing what his mother wanted either.

riddle discusses his interest in studying law with azul during book 6, while they're traversing the tower at STYX together. he explains that as both of his parents are medical mages, he'd originally planned to go into the same field after graduating, but now he's unsure whether or not he wants to do so--he says that ever since becoming the dorm leader of heartslabyul, he's developed an interest in law. riddle became dorm leader only a week after enrolling at NRC, and what did he spend the majority of his time doing since then? obsessively enforcing the rules in a way that was both needlessly strict and unhealthy for him, because his mother did the same to him and made him believe that that was the only way to be happy and successful. i'm not saying i think he'd be anything other than a great lawyer, and in fact he'd likely have a heightened awareness of how the law can be twisted and used to cause harm! personally i really like the thought of him specializing in family law! but i am saying that i'm not so sure his interest in the law can be untangled from the abuse he suffered at the hands of his mother anymore easily than his interest in medicine can be. and that i think he'd initially struggle with questions like, is this really the path he wants to choose? is he really passionate about it for his own reasons and not just because of the cruel way his mother raised him? is he really fit for the job given the kind of person he was in the past?

and if riddle decided to pursue medicine, of course he'd struggle with that as well! it's what his parents have always expected of him, and what he'd always planned on doing up until recently when his entire worldview was suddenly turned upside down. of course he'd worry about whether it's a good idea for him to continue following in his parents' footsteps, about the fear of becoming like his mother, and again, about whether or not he's truly interested in it for his own reasons. but i see no reason why medicine couldn't be something he's genuinely passionate about and chooses to pursue because unlike his mother, he's grown into a caring person who wants to take the knowledge and skills she taught him and use them to help others. there are two options in particular here that i really love: first, what if he became a vet? technically still a medical field, but not what people think of when you say you're going to be a doctor (and in fact, vets are often wrongly thought of as not "real" doctors so there's a chance his parents would look down on this decision!). it's distinct from his parents' work and includes his love of animals in his career. or, what if he became a pediatrician? this option is honestly my favorite because it allows riddle, as someone who was a victim of child abuse, to become someone who helps heal kids and does everything he can to make them feel safe when he treats them. he would also be able to recognize the signs of abuse and provide extra help to kids who need it, and there are even pediatricians who are specially trained to diagnose and treat suspected victims and work with child welfare and law enforcement in doing so!

or for a third option, a friend of mine suggested this half-jokingly but i genuinely like the idea enough that i have to mention it: riddle could work in the medical field but instead of actually being a doctor he could get a job as a medical records reviewer, evaluating hospital reports and patient records to make sure everything that occured was fair and ethical and that no medical negligence or malpractice took place. that would allow him to channel his interest in rules and laws into something healthy while working to prevent abuse of the medical system, and combine both of these fields of interest!

he could also just do something entirely different, though i think he would probably struggle at least a little with his feelings about his parents and whether he's making the right choice no matter what career he chooses. but i also think riddle has the skill and the drive to succeed at whatever he sets his mind to--azul said the same thing, after all, and even advised him to try his hand at anything he finds interesting!

[pyreflydust]

There's also something to be said about the differences between loss you expect and loss you don't. Most of the human deaths I've experienced when I was old enough to remember were of people whose deaths I anticipated. My grandmother had cancer before I was even born and she lived until I was 20. My uncle had been given six months to live and lived another two years. My grandfather's dementia had gotten so bad in the last few years of his life specifically because he had been having little strokes for years before the big one happened, which takes its toll.

But that is also why the point about a shared pet she made also hit pretty hard. Because when Nana passed, I became responsible for the three cats she left behind and the first to go was the one that was most attached to her. On one hand, he was the oldest -- I believe two years younger than I was, so he made it to 19! -- which in that sense made it easier. But losing him only 5 months after she died and the way he died right near her chair as if he was trying to find her broke me. (The fact I had no way to get him to the vet over the weekend because no one would bring me out of town with him did not help because all I could do was try to keep him comfortable.)

Of the three of them, Taffy was the hardest even thought Buttons was the youngest and most sudden. (I also wasn't in the country when he died so I didn't get any control over the vet visit either as he was technically my grandfather's cat.) Kappy was difficult because it ended up coming down to me having to make the choice, but he stayed with me the longest after and I knew how bad his health was getting.

I had known all three of them most, if not all, of their lives. They were family. But they were more like little furry uncles or cousins than my children. So none of them hurt even a quarter as much as losing Honey did. Which brings me to the other point I wanted to make before I started rambling.

In our 12 and a half years together, there were only two days (when I had to be in the hospital) where I didn't see her at all during those days. A few times I stayed out over night, but I always saw her before I left and again when I came back the next day. Not more than two days in 12 1/2 years (and not at all in over 12 years) did I not see my baby.

I can't say that about anyone else. I've not even seen my mother every single day for a 12 year stretch. If you lose a human family member that you don't even talk to every day, let alone see every day, it's going to take a little longer to fully process them being gone a lot of the time. Some part of your brain is more likely to be like lalala they're just not here that's fine they usually aren't lalala.

When Honey died, my brain kept trying to tell me she was just in the bathroom. It was summer and she loved sitting on the toilet lid in summer because it was cooler. But then I'd go in there and she wouldn't be there and I'd break again.

And if you live alone, you carry that alone and that makes it so much heavier.

[marastriker]

Rustnoose for the fandom questions please?

This is Rusty and Canoose for people that aren't familiar with the alternate fanon name

What is each member’s love language?

Rusty is very verbal and sfw physical when showing affection BV is gift giving, of course, but with some nsfw physical affection thrown in there as well

What would they describe as their perfect date?

Rusty is so not picky, he's just happy to spend time with the person he loves, but BV needs everything to be perfect or he'll feel like a failure.

Who made the first move?

Depends on universe - but, overall probably BV.

Who is more sentimental?

Rusty, he's so sappy and sweet. It's just in his nature.

Which member calls the other in to kill the spiders?

Rusty, he does not like bugs at all.

Who falls asleep first?

Rusty, sleeby boi

Who wakes up first?

BV, he doesn't sleep super long every night anyway

Who is more more relaxed/carefree?

BV, overall. He's a very go with the flow kind of guy

What’s one way their personalities compliment one another? (Is it opposites attract or are they pretty similar?)

Definitely more opposites attract, BV helps Rusty to be more outspoken and sure of himself and Rusty helps BV learn that it's okay to be vulnerable sometimes

Who is always cold?

BV, Rusty has his firebox. Rusty keeps him warm in the winter

Which member is always trying to bring home stray animals and which member always has to say no?

Rusty will feel bad for any stray that he sees, but has good enough sense to take them to a vet/shelter so technically neither

Who worries more?

Rusty, he is noivus

What are some non-sexual activities they do together?

Picnics or fine dining, depending on who's the focus that night (Bee also loves wine tastings) Also dancing and karaoke but Rusty loves arts and crafts so sometimes they'll do like a painting or pottery class

Who would be able to talk their way out of a speeding ticket?

BV, absolutely, 100% - the officer would be apologizing to him

Who is the better cook?

Neither of them are bad, but BV is a bit better only cause he had to take care of himself (and CB) for a while

What are some things they don’t agree on?

Ohohohoho. This is a cause of some arguments honestly, cause they both have hills they will die on. A big one is if Greaseball's gang is picking on or hurting Rusty, BV will want to fight them BUT Rusty is insistent on not fighting violence with violence and Bee is like, "well what the fuck do I do, ask them nicely to stop? That's not going to work"

Which member is more physically affectionate?

They're both pretty close, ngl....but Rusty consistently wants cuddles

Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Also very close, but I'd say Bee is usually a bit better with words

How does each member feel about PDA?

Rusty is kinda iffy about it at first, but they both are fine with it - BV secretly just wants everyone to know that he's capable of caring for someone other than himself.

Who’s the safer driver?

BV, weirdly enough. Rusty can be a bit impulsive when driving

What’s each member flirting style?

Rusty will show rather than tell, like "I saw this thing that made me think of you" whereas BV is a smoothtalker 100%

Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

Rusty sometimes borrows BV's clothes cause he wants to look cool but it doesn't really work for him

Who is the cuddle initiator?

They both can be, but mostly Rusty

Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

Weird to answer, because Rusty leans more toward introverted and BV leans more toward extroverted. They compromise by doing both.

Who is the big/little spoon?

BV is def big spoon for Rusty 9 times out of 10.

Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

It SO depends? On what the situation is? Usually BV is pretty impulsive and Rusty has to rationalize, but sometimes Rusty can make some hasty (read: stupid) decisions too, that put the voice of reason on B.

Who’s more likely to laugh at their own jokes?

Both of them, actually. But they make very different jokes.

Who takes longer showers?

BV, he's gotta look good 24/7.

Who is “more loved” by the in-laws?

Rusty is always loved by the in laws no matter what but there actually aren't any in laws to love him in this universe, so. Sad.

Who is more likely to get jealous?

Rusty, because he doesn't feel like he's really all that attractive. BV looking at Carrie or Elektra in a specific way could set him off, it doesn't take much :(

What was the most surprising thing they learned about one another once they started dating?

BV learned that Rusty has a more wild and adventurous side, though it took a lot of time for him to really show it. Rusty learned how genuinely sweet BV can really be, ESPECIALLY when he gets Noodle.

Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

BV stays up way too late and Rusty always has to beg him to come to sleep. He wants to cuddle :(

Who’s messier?

Rusty, he doesn't necessarily mean to be though.

Which member is more likely to accidentally spend $300 at Target?

Rusty, but it only happened ONCE, okay?

Who wanted/would want kids first?

Probably, actually most definitely, Rusty, honestly. Rusty's always wanted kids eventually.

Who gives piggy back rides to the other?

BV would give Rusty piggy back rides occasionally, but not all the time.

Who fell in love first?

BV did, but Rusty made it a lot more obvious first. Rusty always wears his heart on his sleeve, so <3

[aturinfortheworse]

My first response to that question was "I'm sure I could work something out..." and then the idea just ran away with me.

Cross-posted to AO3 because it's technically fanfic, and it might be easier to read over there.

*********************************************************************

The worst thing about the apocalypse is it forces you to choose.

When the crops first start to fail, you blame Monsanto. It's a relief, in a way: they've finally screwed you so badly you can tell them to take their sterile crops and profit margins straight to hell.

But you still need to eat. Sooner or later you'll get the farm back to order but for now you put food on the table by driving up into the mountains and shooting a buck. Do you have a gun licence? Do you have a hunting permit? Does it fucking matter? Your family needs to eat.

Six months doesn't change anything. A year doesn't change anything. You keep going back to the mountains and every time you have to travel further and hunt longer and ration out bullets like there's never going to be any more. You slowly get this sense that maybe you should be saving your fuel. The grass, thank god, is still growing for now, so you take the horses next time. There are only three horses up for the trip, so there are three hunters. You try not to think about what you're doing as you put three bullets in reserve. There's a reason you're saving the petrol for later.

That's a choice but it's not the choice. That comes after fourteen days in the hills, when you finally, finally spot a deer. He's gorgeous. A ten-point buck, which was rare enough even Before, and so it's not until you're looking down the barrel that you realize how gangly he is. He can't even be three. You try to tell yourself that you're not that good a hunter, you can't tell at a glance the way your pop could, and the deer don't bulk up the way they used to, but you look at the buck and your stomach churns.

These hills used to be full of deer. The three of you have been out here two weeks and this is the only herd you've had any sign of. You scan the area hopefully, looking for another crown of bone sticking up, and even when you don't see any you know there could be one somewhere. The bucks come and go. The rest of the herd could be just over the hill. But what if they're not? What if this is the last buck in these hills and you're lining him up in your sights?

It doesn't pay to be sentimental when you're trying to survive. Maybe you think about the fact that this place would feel empty and hollow without deer but what you say is "If we kill him, what the hell are we going to eat next year?"

"What the hell are we going to eat now?" is the answer.

These people are your friends. Maybe not the friends you would have picked if you had your fill of choices but they're the people who invite you over to watch a game, they're the people who help you put up the fences, the people you drive into town with on grocery day. When the dog got too old and the vet was too far away, these are the people who saved you from having to do the job yourself. They came back just as tear-stained as you were and made a cross to go in the garden and you know them well enough that you don't fall into the trap of picking sides. You're all on the same damned side.

None of you want to kill the buck; none of you want to go home empty handed.

None of you want to make this choice.

****

Back at home, there's still a patch of dirt you call a field. There are still ploughs hooked up to the tractors. There are still windowless concrete towers like brooding skyscrapers and you still call them grain silos. More and more people are living in them, escaping the dust and the storms and the sight of their homes being slowly consumed by rot. Some of them have had ladders and platforms built in, so you can store what food you have in a place where it might last a little longer.

Some of them even have grain in them.

Fertile grain. The west is not yet an endless expanse of sterile herbicide-resistant soy fields. There are actual plants here, too. Fewer and fewer every year but not yet gone for good.

The apocalypse doesn't have a lot to offer but your heirloom tomatoes held out for years after there stopped being tomatoes in the supermarket. It's a grim victory - no matter how hard you try, you can't forget that the tomatoes on the shelves were someone's livelihood - but you'll take it. Even when your tomatoes shrivel up and die, the memory of them gives you something vaguely like hope.

You need hope right now, as you're sitting in the kitchen, staring out your window to a distant concrete tower, struggling with an impossible choice.

It's an old choice. People like you - and that used to be nearly everyone - have been facing this choice since the first city faced its first famine. Probably even before that. For all of human history, people have had to make this choice.

The problem is that you reap what you sow. And what you sow, you can't eat. If you have a bad year, you can plant the seeds, borrow money to tide you over, and hope that the harvest will pay off the debt. What do you do when every year is a bad year? What do you do when the crops fail everywhere and there's no one left to help you out? If you eat the seeds, there won't be a harvest next year. If you don't eat them, you won't be around to do the harvesting.

It's not all or nothing: every year some get sold and eaten, some get planted. But both groups get smaller and smaller and you start to move the seeds around in your mind, as if there was some way to divide them up so both groups would have enough. You do the maths on the back of a receipt: how much do I have to plant to yield enough to see me through next year? The answer is 'more than you have.' That's been the answer for a while now.

You think that should be what history books talk about, instead of kings and wars and revolution. Ten thousand years of ordinary people having to choose between death tomorrow and death today.  How do you choose between the present and the future? What's the point of one without the other? Are they even different things, when you get right down to it?

You wonder how we got this far, with this choice as our constant companion?

But we did get this far. Your ancestors faced this choice a thousand times and each time they somehow got it right. They were the lucky ones but still, the air in your lungs and the blood in your veins and the ten thousand year old domesticated grass in your silo are proof that something can survive.

How did we get this far?

Your best guess is that people picked both. Someone ate the seed, someone else planted it. Someone shot the buck, someone else let him go. Some people starved, others survived. Some people got lucky and the too-few seeds they planted turned into just enough crops. Some people planted too much and died hungry, but their neighbours came and harvested the crops next year, weeping with both guilt and gratitude.

****

A few years later, you see a corn flea beetle and find yourself frozen in wonder. It's eating your damned corn and you barely had enough to start with, but you kneel down to stare at it, admiring the careful twitches of antennae and its glossy black shell. In a couple years when there's a million of them, you'll be cursing yourself for letting this one live. Here and now, the opportunity to let something live feels like a miracle.

It's twenty years before you see another ten-point buck.

But you do see him.

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