#i’m not to proud of the colors i assigned them

[snoodlebooper]

wanted to have a design challenge so i ponyfied the tf2 mercs

not too proud of some of the designs but i tried

[sorapricots]

Breaking Point

Summary: In the way where you start to lose your shit after teaching the children in Xavier Institute for so long, your partner Logan decided it's time to take a break.

Pair: Husband!Logan Howlett x Mutant!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Curse words, reader have regenerative healing factor like Logan so she is actually as older as as Charles but look young, reader is married to logan, blood mention, 

A/N: it might seems crazy that I only come back here to write about Logan but damn I just cannot take my mind off from Logan. I might make one for Wade Wilson too tho. Also in all honesty I am not 100% proud with this one, but I just need to write this man so bad. So maybe I’m gonna make another one. 

Wc:  1,8k 

Beep... beep... beep...

You quickly turn off your alarm with a groan as you push yourself to sit on your bed. Another groan escaped your lips when you realized you broke another alarm for the third time this week and your husband is not beside you. You wipe your face harshly as you walk to the bathroom.

You take a cold quick shower in hope it can help you freshen up. A tired sigh was heard as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Eye bags can be seen even though it's not very noticeable. You quickly grab a concealer to hide your eye bags. Once you are satisfied with your concealer you quickly put on your daily-go-to make up and decide to put on a more neutral color outfit instead of your usual colorful one.

A black turtleneck paired with your favorite jeans, as you put on a worn-out brown leather jacket, and you decide to wear your boots for the last touch. You quickly put your wedding band on your finger before you forget it. And you decided to put the necklace your husband, Logan, bought for you almost 10+ years ago. You smile a little bit as your fingers carefully caress the vintage looking necklace.

As you grab your bedroom handle, you stop to kiss your wedding band, a habit you do before you start your day. Deep down in your heart, you hope today will be a more bearable day than the previous day. But of course your wish is only a mere wish when the moment you open the door you see students running past you with full speed almost hitting you. 

"Kids! No running in the hall!" You warned them before you carefully stepped out of your bedroom. 

"Good morning!" Ororo quipped when she saw you step into the kitchen. A mug of coffee in her hand and a muffin in the other. You give her a sweet smile before you grab yourself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, ro. Have you seen Logan?" You softly asked as you sat yourself in one of the stools. Ororo looks at you for a second before blinking, trying to remember where the last time she saw the rugged guy. 

"Oh I saw him walk to the classroom, looks like he has History class to teach today." You hummed a bit as you took a sip from your mug. Eyes slowly darting to the clock beside the fridge.

"Ah shoot, I have class too. See you later, Ro." You quickly downed your coffee and put your mug in the sink before you walked to your class. You can hear Ororo wish you good luck as you walk away.

As you approach the classroom you can hear some of the students chattering. You take a deep breath before you open the door. Revealing a bit of chaos the students cause. You can feel the corner of your eyebrow twitch but you just let it slide as the students quickly take a seat when they see you.

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a nice rest last night. And I hope the assignment I gave last week is finished and ready to be submitted. Please put your work on my desk so I can grade it later." You speak as you grab some of the old literature books that you have. Students start piling up in front of your desk to put their assignments. All of them except one, John. He's known for not being punctual when it's about submitting assignments.

"John, where is your assignment?" You softly asked him as you try to calm down yourself as you can feel your patience running thin. He scratched his head before he let out an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Professor. I kind of forgot about it." He answered with full honesty. You close your eyes for a second before you give him a smile.

"It's okay, but as an exchange I want you to write a resume about this Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and I want you to submit it tonight." John almost let out a protest but decided not to when he saw you giving a look. His body slumped down on his desk before he nodded. You then continue your teaching session.

Suddenly there's a knock on your classroom door. You let out a quick come in as you write down something about old literature on the board. 

"Professor, Professor Hank asked you to meet him in his class." You turn around to see Rogue standing on the entry door. 

"Okay, thank you, Rogue. The class ends for today then. Make sure you do the assignment that I give you for today and I want it to be submitted next week. John, please do your assignment. I will wait for your resume tonight." Students start to pack up their belongings as you tidying up your desk. Then you walk to Hank's classroom to meet him.

A very chaotic sound can be heard in his class. You also hear Logan screaming. Your brows furrowed as you opened the classroom door. Suddenly you see a beaker with some weird color liquid in it flying and hitting your face. 

The classroom went quiet as sizzle can be heard. You stare at the people in the classroom blankly as your hand slowly touches your face. You can feel your skin sticky with both the weird liquid and blood. Eyes darted to Logan, Hank, and the students making sure no one else hurt as you feel pain on your face start to numb out due to your healing factor. 

"Shit." Logan quickly went to you as he held your face to make sure you heal properly. Ignoring the residue of the weird liquid that is still on your skin. You stare at him before your eyes start to become glossy. You rapidly blink your eyes while Logan pulls you into a hug. Trying to calm you down by swaying both of your body softly. Muffled sobs can be heard as he strokes your back.

"Hey, it's okay Bub. I got you. I'm here." Logan tries to pull you impossibly closer than he already did. He quickly looks behind him, telling Hank that he will be right back. Hank just gives him a quick nod before he starts to instruct the students to tidy up the mess they created. 

Logan quickly picks you up with bridal style and starts walking back to your shared room with you still crying in his arms. Your hands held to his neck as you shoved your face to his neck. Try to find comfort in his musky, pine, and mixed with tobacco scent.

Logan then proceeds to put you on your shared bed softly as soon as you both are inside the bedroom. He quickly picks his shirt and your shorts for you to change as he knows you always find comfort in his shirt. He went into the bathroom to grab your makeup wipes before he came back to you who was still sobbing with hands covering your face.

"Look up, pretty girl." He carefully pulls your hands and holds your chin. Frowning a bit when he saw your mascara ran down on your cheeks and red nose. He carefully wiped your makeup away and his frown deepened as he saw your eyebags. He leans down to kiss your forehead and your sobs get harder.

“Take a deep breath darling. I’m not going anywhere.” Logan starts to cup your face as he starts to lead you on taking deep breaths with him. You follow him soon after and a thin smile creeps up his face.

“Atta girl.” his calloused hand softly stroking your head as your sobs start to calm down. Your husband then continues to clean your face from makeup. You slowly lift one of your hands to hold his wrist that is still busy cleaning up your face. Logan then leans in to give you a quick peck on each of your eyes, nose, and lastly your lips before he pulls away. His hands carefully took off the necklace that he gave for you before carefully storing it back in the box. You slowly peel off your jacket and jeans as he walks back to you.

“Hands up, baby.” He instructed you as he took a seat beside you and he pulled your turtleneck up. You obeyed him by putting your hands up in the air. Allowing him to pull your turtleneck. He then starts to stroke your almost naked back, making you feel his warm palms to let you know that he is with you. 

“I’m gonna take your bra off okay?” he softly asked while his palms were still rubbing your back. You give an affirmative nod and his fingers skillfully take off your bra as he has already done so many times. You let your bra fall to the floor. Logan then pulls you to sit on his lap. Your hands immediately circling around his neck. He then pulls you into another hug while giving your shoulders a lot of soft kisses. It's a different kind of kisses. Nothing sensual, just comfort and love. And you hug him tighter. Letting his stubble tickle your skin.

Logan then pulls away and gives you his shirt and your shorts. You carefully take it from his hands. He stares at you full of love and adoration before he softly pushes you from his lap and walks to the bathroom to clean himself. You quickly put the clothes on and lay down on bed. Pull your blanket to cover your body and wait for your lover. Eyes blankly staring at the wedding band on your finger while your thumb carefully rotates it.

Suddenly a warmth starts engulfing you from the back. For the first time on that day you genuinely let out a soft smile. You quickly rotate your body so you can face your husband. 

"What's on your mind darling?" His voice is rough but there's softness and care behind it. His hand pushes your hair away from your face. You smile again and pull him into a kiss. 

"It's nothing. Just been tired from all of the work I have to do these past few days…" you answered in a low voice. Logan let out a low growl as he looked at you with sympathy.

"Let's take a few days off then. Let's go somewhere quiet. Just the two of us." Logan suggested while rubbing your sides before letting his hand stay on your hips. You stare at his face. Remembering every detail you can catch with your eyes. 

"Okay. Thank you, Lo." Logan smiles as he rolls to lay on his back. Pulling you with him to sleep.

"Anything for you princess." His words and his touch is the last thing you remember before you drift off to sleep

[elcvatedhorror]

5 Hours

tara carpenter x g!p bottom reader

summary - tara had been teasing you for the entire day, and as it came to end, she realized she couldn’t anymore, and had to take matters into her own hands.:

minors dni

5 hours. 5 hours had Tara been teasing you. 5 hours have you been hard. You were on the verge of tears, on the verge of grabbing Tara and fucking her so hard she’d forget her name, but no: that would come with consequences.

Why had Tara been a tease all day? She only wanted to see how long you could hold off without touching yourself or touching her.

“Tara..” you whined, you were laying on the bed with a pillow stuffed to your face to suppress your moans, your cock hard, laying up against the covers beneath you as you bucked your hips now and then.

“Please..”

Tara was at her desk working on whatever assignment she had. The fact was, it was due at the end of the week, and Tara was known to do her work at the last minute. You heard her snicker. She loved seeing you all work up and flustered, knowing it was all because of her.

She looked back at you. She almost gave up the assignment and cared for your needs, but she had a job to stick to. She checked the time on her laptop. ‘5:38 pm,’ it said. She sighed. She didn’t want to do this crappy assignment on English, though it was her favorite subject.

She was wet, oh so painfully wet looking and thinking about you. She didn’t know if she could hold off for 5 hours but the time was going slow now, and as you were right there squirming and bucking your hips every second she needed to do something. Fuck, she needed you.

She saw a wet spot underneath you, your pre-cum was leaking through your boxers, a very wet noticeable patch in them. She got up and swiftly sat in the spot you left open beside you and rubbed your back.

“Aww, look at you.” She cooed. Tracing shapes on your back until you turned around, your face visibly red and sweat cascading down your forehead.

You whined again, “Tara, please, I can’t go any longer..” You sat up uncomfortably, locking eyes with the brown-eyed girl. Tara looked down at the tent in your pants. She loved your cock. You stood at a proud 7 inches, and that itself would hit every single spot inside of Tara, making her say, and do the most unthinkable.

Tara looked up at you, smiled and tilted her head, her hand palming your cock. God you were hard. She felt how hot it was, and how it pulsed every second.

She heard you sigh at the touch, and lift your hips up.

You were such a sucker for Tara and did anything she said. It was clear who was the bottom and the top of the relationship. The way you let Tara handle you during sex was almost mad, but were you guys complaining? Fuck no you weren’t.

Giving up, Tara took your boxers off in a swift motion, hearing the smack of your cock hit your stomach. She wanted to go slow, she didn’t want to exactly cater to your needs just yet.

She took your cock in her hands and jerked it off slowly, the clear liquid pumping out as she did so. She heard your whines and cries, as you tried not to be so loud, you put your hand over your mouth.

She stopped.

“Wha.. why’d you stop?” You cried out.

“I don't want you to muffle your moans, I want to hear you, or I’m going to stop, okay?” She said, glaring at you. You nodded, and once more, Tara grabbed your cock. She bent down and kissed the mushroom shaped tip, as it was swole, and the perfect pink color, and took you whole.

“Oh….”

The way Tara’s mouth felt sent you into a state of euphoria. Her wet, warm tongue guiding it’s way around the tip and the base, the way you felt her teeth touch your cock a bit. You almost grabbed a fistfull of her hair and rammed her down because of how slow she was going, but you couldn’t, fearing that she may stop again.

She looked up at you, her spit dribbling down your dick as she sucked you off clean.

“Tara.. m’gonna cum.. i’m gonna—

— she stopped.

You grunted and let your head hit the pillow beneath you in frustration. She laughed at you.

“I’m not done with you yet, baby. I still want to feel you inside a’me….” She said, as she straddled your lap, and grinded against your still-wet cock.

“Mm, all hard for me, so big..” She grabbed your dick and aligned it with her dripping wet center, and sunk down, letting out a guttural moan. Your hands found themselves grabbing a fistful of the sheets, you sputtered out curses, and grunts of your own. The feeling inside of Tara’s pussy made your eyes roll back.

You were yearning to touch her, to touch all of her. Her hips, her boobs, you needed to feel her bad.

And as if she read your mind, she said, “I can’t take it anymore, Y/N touch me, please touch me.” You nodded and grabbed her hips, slamming her down on your cock. The wetness sputtering out as you did so. The way her vagina squeezed your cock, and the way you stretched her out sent her into a state of ecstasy. Being inside of her was overwhelming, the hotness inside of her made you want to come then and there.

Neither of you could take it anymore.

“Tara, i’m gonna come, please.. let me come, fuck.. fuck fuckfuck…” You looked up at her, she seemed to about to come undone as well. Her mouth open, and her eyes closed, as her tits moved every time your cock would hit the certain spot.

“Me too, shit, Y/N!….” You felt her come, and squirt on you as well. Not a second later, you felt spurts of your own cum fill her up, it was the most you had came in a while.

You felt the squeeze of her walls clench around your cock, your grasp on her hips loosening as you both came down from your highs.

“If holding you off for 5 hours lets you fuck me that hard, I might have to do it again.” she murmured, her head laying on your chest.

You let out a breathy laugh as you stroked her hair, “Please, no.”

[cmdrfupa]

Scary Dog Privilege

Ijichi x Reader

a/n: IJICHI BABES, WE ARE HERE.

Your relationship with Ijichi made sense.

If awards for couples that made the most sense existed, you and Ijichi would win them all.

He was the greyhound to your cane corso. The Sphynx to your Siamese cat. Ijichi was your devoted lover and you were his world.

You just wanted him to see his own value in every situation. Remind him that he has a say so even if everyone else disregards it. And maybe your anniversary trip could help him.

The suitcase lay half-packed on the bed, its contents a colorful jumble of folded clothes and travel essentials on top of the surprise bikini dress you’d packed for the beach.

You hummed cheerfully to yourself, holding up a sun hat and tilting your head. “What do you think, baby? Too much for the beach, or just enough to keep the mysterious wife thing up?”

Across the room, Ijichi stood awkwardly by the doorway, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. His gaze darted to you, then away, his lips parting as if to speak before closing again.

“It’s perfect,” he mumbled, though the way his fingers fidgeted with his glasses said his mind was elsewhere.

You narrowed your eyes at him, setting the hat down. “Kiyotaka,” you said in a tone that made him stand a little straighter. “You’ve been pacing like a nervous puppy for the last ten minutes. What happened today? Did someone die, or worse, did they cancel our anniversary reservation?”

He flinched. “No, no! Nothing like that!”

“Then what?”

Ijichi hesitated, his cheeks flushing. “I... um... I’ve been assigned as the lead administrator for a mission next week.”

The cheerful hum of excitement that had been buzzing in your chest came to a screeching halt. Slowly, you slipped your slippers back on and walked over to him. “Next week? As in, the week of our trip?”

He nodded, his hands wringing. “I-I didn’t say no. They said they needed someone dependable, and I—”

“Didn’t push back,” you finished for him, your tone flat. You let out a long sigh, and wrapped your arms around his next. “Honey. Do I need to come to these meetings and say ‘no’ for you?”

His shoulders slumped, and he gave you a sheepish look. “I know I worked through my day off last time but I didn’t want to let anyone down…”

You crossed your arms, giving him the look only an understanding wife could give. “Kiyotaka, I get it. You’re kind and genuinely such a pleasant guy —two of the many reasons I love you. But you’re also allowed to have a life outside of work. It’s okay to tell people no. Even me.”

“I know,” he muttered, but the doubt in his voice was as clear as day.

“Hmm,” you said, rolling up your sleeves and taking a few paces back. “Let’s roleplay.”

“Huh?”

“I’m Principal Yaga, and you’re telling me you can’t take the mission. Go.”

His eyes widened. “What? I—”

“Go!” you barked, dropping into a gruff impression of Yaga. You stroked an imaginary goatee and squinted at him. “Goddamn man! Speak up! I don’t have all day! I’ve got sunglasses to buy and cute cursed dolls to make!”

Ijichi blinked at you, flustered. “Um… excuse me, sir, but I…”

You interrupted, shaking your head dramatically while speaking in a hushed tone. “No excuses, Ijichi. You’re too valuable!”

That finally got a laugh out of him, and you couldn’t help but smile. “See? Not so scary when it’s just me,” you teased. “Now try again. Confidently, this time.”

He took a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

“Principal Yaga, I appreciate the trust you’ve placed in me, but I’ve already committed to important personal plans next week. I’ll need to decline this mission but maybe ask Akari and she how she feels about taking it on.”

You broke into a grin, clapping your hands. “There it is! That’s my guy! See? You can do it!”

Ijichi looked surprised by his own success, a small, proud smile tugging at his lips. “You really think they’ll respect that?”

“Absolutely,” you said, stepping closer kissing his cheek then lips as he pulled you into a hug. “But if they don’t, just let me know. I’ll show up and demonstrate my cursed technique. Bet that’ll make them think twice.”

He chuckled, relaxing in your arms. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice soft with gratitude.

“Anytime,” you replied, squeezing him gently. “Now, let’s finish packing. You’ve got a mission to refuse and an anniversary trip to enjoy.”

👓

The sun was dipping low over the courtyard, warm orange hues painted themselves across the campus.

You were heading back from a training session with Nanami when you spotted Ijichi standing stiffly near the fountain. Across from him, Gojo Satoru leaned lazily against the edge, arms crossed and trademark grin plastered across his face.

“C’mon, Ijichi,” Gojo drawled. “You’re the only guy I can trust with this. It’s just a couple of reports, nothing too crazy. Besides, you know I’d do it myself if I weren’t so…” He gestured vaguely. “Busy.”

You could see the classic Ijichi’s polite smile from where you stood. It was the same tight-lipped expression he used when he wanted to refuse but couldn’t find the words.

“Ah, well, I suppose I could…” he started, trailing off as Gojo’s grin widened.

That was enough for you. Without thinking, you marched over, planting yourself between the two of them.

Gojo,” you almost barked, sharply, staring him down. “I think you can handle this one yourself. Ijichi has enough on his plate and he has to speak with Yaga.”

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh? Didn’t know the wife became the spokesperson! But come on, Ijichi’s the best man for the job! He loves this type of work!”

“Maybe,” you retorted, eyes squinting and arms crossed, “but even the best deserves a break. Right, Kiyotaka?”

Ijichi blinked, caught off guard. “I-I suppose…”

Gojo shrugged, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. You’re right. I’ll ask someone else.” With a cheeky grin, he sauntered off, calling over his shoulder, “But don’t think you’ve seen the last of me!”

You turned to Ijichi, a triumphant smile on your face. “There. Problem solved.”

But instead of looking relieved, he seemed troubled, his gaze fixed on the ground. “Thank you,” he muttered, barely audible.

🍵

Later that evening back at home, dinner was quiet. Ijichi kept conversation short and even excused himself early to go to his study.

“Jichi? Honey?” You softly called out as you made your way down the hall, a cup of fresh tea in hand for him as you peered at his relaxed figure from the cracked door of his study. “Can I come in?”

He smiled and waved you in, “Come in. Just reading.” He slipped the bookmark in and sat the book down. “Is that tea for me?”

You nodded and the cup it down before leaning against his desk. “Fresh ginger tea. With a bit of mint from the garden.”

He smiled and took a sip, the warmth filling his chest as he sat it back down. “Thank you darling.”

Watching him intently, you gave a warm smile. “What’s on your mind?”

He hesitated, then sighed. “About earlier… with Gojo. I know you meant well, and I appreciate you stepping in, but…” He looked up at you, his expression pained. “I don’t want people to think I can’t fend for myself.”

You frowned, guilt tugging at your chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.” He saw you thumbing with the edge of his desk and stood up, bringing his hands to your waist. “I’m just really not a big fan of seeing people take advantage of you.”

“I know,” he said softly. “But sometimes I need to handle things on my own, even if I mess up sometimes.” His gentle disposition was the sweetest. A level headed man even when he was feeling bogged. “Gojo can be a lot and you were right, I didn’t have the capacity for the work he was trying to pass on to me. But I would’ve figured it out.”

You nodded, rubbing up and down his forearms as you looked to see his unperturbed face. “You’re right. From now on, I’ll let you decide when and if you need me to step in. But if it ever gets too much…”

“I’ll tell you,” he finished, offering a small smile. “I appreciate that you care so much for me. You are my life. And knowing I have you in my corner is enough to make me speak up more. So when I need you, I’ll tell you..”

“Deal?” you asked, holding out your pinky.

He chuckled, linking his pinky with yours. “Deal.”

A playful grin spread across your face. “But you’ve got to admit, I rattled Gojo pretty well.”

Ijichi laughed, his cheeks flushing. “You did. Honestly, I think he’s a little scared of you now.”

“As he should be,” you said proudly, resting your chin on his shoulder as he swayed you for a moment. “But don’t worry—I’ll save my scary side for when you really need it.”

He smiled against the top of your head, his arms wrapping around you as he pressed a kiss to your crown. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d probably have a lot less drama in your life,” you teased, earning another laugh.

“You make things more lively. I’d be a lost man without it.”

The moment lingered, warm and sweet, the tension from earlier melting away. Ijichi knew you meant every word. Your devotion to him was truly a gift and you were always going to be the reason he felt like a winner.

[tyudearyous]

selfish waltz - j.yh

pairings : jeong yunho x reader

genre : angst (no comfort)

word count : 2k

author's note : PLEASE KEEP IN MIND ANYTHING YOU'RE READING HERE IS FICTION! the characters are portrayed in fictional manners, so nothing is real here! yunho is kind of shitty here so yeah :'D

🎵 take a bite - beabadoobee, malibu nights - lany, color blind - maddox, i don't wanna love you anymore - lany

masterlist

—

anon asks :

was falling in love ever a mistake? if it wasn’t then why is everyone ridiculing me for it? is it ever my fault for wanting to be loved? i crave love and i want it. i can’t keep on living like this. i feel like an outcast whenever people talk about love. i hate feeling like this.

posted on 21/07/2016 00.21 AM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! i just wanted to reassure you that it’s not wrong to fall in love! in fact, love is such a wonderful thing you know! i hope things get better for you. wishing the best for you anon!

posted on 21/07/2016 03.23 AM

—

friday, 22/07/2016

click not again. click ah, why isn’t it working at all. click oh! it’s good now. your old camera has been through a lot but it is a memoir you can never get rid of. you photographed almost your entire life with it and you definitely have a little bit of an unhealthy attachment to it. “boo!” you were startled and almost dropped your camera. “jeong yunho.” you glared at the person. “i’m sorry, i’m sorry. i didn’t think you’d be that scared” yunho quickly took a seat next to you and gave you a sheepish smile. he was trying to make you not get angry at him and well, his puppy eyes are hard to resist. “that’s still working?” he points to your old digital camera. “i take good care of it, so of course it would” you said proudly. if there was one thing you could be proud of is that you are extremely good at taking care of your things. heck, your phone from 2009 still works up to this day.

yunho gives you a mocking smile in response, in which you shoved him jokingly and that made him laugh. you both then fell into a rather comfortable silence where you continued your previous shenanigans again.

“still taking photos?” he asked curiously. you only nodded before adjusting your camera to zoom in to the daffodil in front of you. “you like daffodils?” he moved closer to you. “they’re pretty” you replied, still focused to your camera. “mmm, it’s my birth flower” he states. “so?” you moved your gaze to stare at him. “mmm nothing. just wanted to say that” he moves back with a grin on his face. he is completely unpredictable, but guess that was what you loved about him.

—

anon asks :

is it wrong to love your best friend? i’m scared, i feel like i want him too much and it might be bad for our friendship

posted on 22/07/2016 08.34 PM

—

anon replies :

hi anon! like i said before, falling in love isn’t bad! but when it comes to friendships, it might be hard. i’m rooting for you though! you can’t control love anyway ^^

posted on 23/07/2016 07.29 AM

—

saturday, 23/07/2016

it was a sunny saturday afternoon, you’re currently in yunho’s house doing group work with several other classmates. this group work has been something you’ve been dreading to do. after all, you only got there because of yunho. you bet he pitied you, that’s why he took you in but none of that matters. yunho was nice enough to let you in but that didn’t mean others accepted you.

for some reason, none of yunho’s friends really liked you. some were neutral, some hated you. you weren’t a clingy friend to yunho, nor were you forcing him to be only friends with you. well, you can’t control them. yunho was your polar opposite anyway. perhaps they just thought that you were annoying and not talkable with.

“um, is this part supposed to be empty?” you asked to your group mates. one part of the assignment is left empty even though it’s not supposed to be empty. “seriously? you have to ask us that?” one of them replied, in a snappy tone. “i wanted to make sure” the room fell into an uncomfortable silence as your voice quieted down. you quickly went on your way to work on that part while staying silent. they purposely left out the hardest part for you to do. it’s not hard, just tricky and they just don’t want to deal with it.

“hey, want me to help? i know it’s tricky” yunho apporached you while you were working on the problem. of course, you accepted the help. who would want to do a tricky calculus problem alone? having two brains working on it is much better than just one. “sorry about that, we had chosen the parts we were going to do before but i forgot to inform you. sorry” it seems that he feels bad but it’s alright. you’re here not really welcomed either. “it’s okay” you reassured him despite feeling uncomfortable. the thing with yunho is that he’s a big people pleaser. he won’t stand up for anyone if he knew it wasn’t beneficial for him. it’s an annoying trait of his but you weren’t anyone to call him out for it. you knew where you stand and you had to stay there because you weren’t anything special for him. just a friend, who hoped for more.

—

sunday, 24/07/2016

the problem was trickier than you originally thought. even with yunho, you couldn’t finish the problem yesterday. so, you went back to his place to finish it off. it had been three hours since you started working on it again and the problem was only 70% done. mathematics is a pain in the ass but it’s fun if it’s solved. however, you both were only humans so just like how any humans would, you took a break after the three hours work time.

“why did mr. park think this was a good idea!?” yunho groaned as he threw his pencil. “you know him” you laughed as you opened your phone to scroll around qforums. “you use that too?” he asked. “what?” you instinctively moved your phone away from him. “i just wanted to knoww! i also use it too you know!” he whined. you only smiled before saying yes. it was a harmless question anyway. he goes on to tell the stories of the weirdest asks he ever read in the forum. from the story of a laughing dog to a hidden underground tunnel in someone’s house, he told it all. you realized having someone keeping you sane through mathematics is very important. thankfully, yunho was there.

—

monday, 25/07/2016

“give it back!” you desperately reach up. one of your classmate, jisung decided it’d be a great idea to take your phone and open qforums. “i said give it back!” “class! listen up! is it wrong to love your best friend? y/n, is this about yunho!?” he asked loudly, unti; the entire class’ attention was to you. you froze, you couldn’t answer anything. everyone’s eyes were focused at you. staring straight with a mocking smile. your head started spinning from the pressure. “shit! this is so funny. oh my, you’re really in love with this friend huh? so, is it really yunho?” jisung kneeled slightly to ask you. “earth to y/n? i’m asking you a question here!” he shook your body. cold sweats started to break out of your body before you took your phone from him and quickly ran away to the bathroom. you could hear laughters from people as you ran. you could feel their gaze.

as you reached the bathroom, you quickly went to one of the stalls and sat down to recollect yourself. it was going to be widespread for sure and of course, yunho would know. what would you answer if he asked? would you lie and ignore the fact that you had been in love with him since forever? it was a shitty day and you just want it to end.

your prediction was correct. it became widespread, even videos were shared everywhere. everyone was making fun of you. you’re sure yunho knows it too. knowing yunho, he would ask you about it. he would want answers. were you ready to give answers though?

—

yunho : can we talk, after school?

yunho : i’m not mad, i just want to talk

you : ok

—

“is it true?” yunho immediately asked you. “i didn’t want anyone to find out” your voice was small, just like how you felt right now. “what the heck y/n?” his response caught you off guard. “what?” you were confused now. “why?” he asks, with a tone unpleasant to your ears. “what? i can’t control my feelings, yunho. what do you mean why with that tone? is it a crime?” “did you seriously fall for me just because i was kind to you?” your heart fell into million pieces. you couldn’t say anything after he asked you that. the man in front of you wasn’t the yunho you knew. you don’t know this person at all. the yunho you knew would reject you kindly but this man? he’s not yunho.

“is it that easy for you to fall for people? i was kind to you because you had no one and we were friends back then so i felt inclined to but, falling in love? i’m sorry y/n, i just feel that you’re being too, how do i word it, selfish?” yunho continued. “why the fuck is it selfish for me to love?” your tears started to fall at this point. you were fine with rejections, after all he was above your league. but this? nothing could prepare you for this. “love isn’t selfish but shouldn’t you at least realize your situation? i never thought that person who kept asking about love in the forums was you” he replied. “were you the one who answered?” you asked him. “shit.” he wasn’t meant to say that. he knew he would look like a shittier person to you if you knew that fact. however, cat’s out of the closet and you couldn’t even explain how shitty you feel right now.

“what the hell jeong yunho?” you felt so incredibly betrayed by him. it was as if thousands of thorns pricked your heart open to the point it bled to a sea, your heart hurted, so bad. “shit, i didn’t mean to say that but just, fuck i look like a shitty person now” “you are.” “what?” he was visibly taken aback by your response. “you’re a shitty person and i regret falling for such a shit person like you now. i never expected anything from you and yet you treat me like this? i genuinely loved you, i knew you wouldn’t like it if we were more than friends, that’s why i kept it to myself. i always kept it in, yunho. i never expected anything from you. i didn’t want more of your kindness, i was always fine with everything.” you tried to continue but your heart just hurts so much, you couldn’t handle it. you broke down and cried, because your heart just hurts.

he only stood there as he saw you cry. doing nothing but stare. you couldn’t care enough to look at him but cry. “i’m sorry” he muttered as he left. he left you alone, in pain, crying. this day was truly a shitty day.

—

some day in 2006,

a kid moved into your neighborhood on a random sunday morning. their family approached yours and made you befriend their kid. naturally, your parents would bring you to play with him in the nearby park. you quickly ran to the swing, which the kid followed.

“what’s your name?” you asked the kid. “yunho! jeong yunho! you?” he excitedly says. “i’m y/n! han y/n! nice to meet you yunho!” you shook your hands with his.

“i hope we can be friends forever!” the kid states.

but 10 years later, that same exact kid would break your heart to the point it’s irreparable now. so what the fuck does that forever supposed to mean?

end. or is it the end?

[insanitybl00m]

Heaven’s Not Close in a Place Like This

Chapter One - Partners

AU CREATED BY @31nightshade AND WRITTEN BY ME :3

Missa loved fidgeting with his soul fire bracelet that Niki made him. The beads clicked together and it helped him take his mind off of the impending doom. 

The egg project.

The councilors tried to create a “bonding experience” to help bring the students together with a common goal. It was also meant to serve as a sort of future life preparation of sorts.

Pairs or groups were randomly assigned and an egg was given to them. They would serve as pseudo-parents for an undetermined amount of time— the councilors never disclosed when it would end and they said it was “to keep everyone on their toes.”

Missa just hoped he got paired with someone nice.

“Hey Missa!” A hand pressed into his shoulder.

Missa flinched as he eyed Bad. “Please stop doing that.”

“We’re going to crush the Bolas eggs, Am I right?” Bad showed off his sharp teeth with a smirk. He walked off without an answer while Missa steadied his breath.

The body of soulfire. Without Tina and Tubbo to keep him in check he terrified most of the students. Including Missa. At times he even felt like he was Bad’s personal entertainment. He loved to frighten him.

The bell rang, ushering the crowd of teenagers into their classrooms. 

The head counselor was standing at the front of the room. Her beaming smile did nothing to affect the groans of the students as she started to read out the list. 

Missa only started listening when he heard his name. 

“Missa you’re partnered with Phil.” Missa caught the eyes of Phil. He stared right at Missa almost like he was trying to figure him out like a jigsaw before looking back at his open notebook.

Counselor Elena finished the list of names before telling everyone to move to sit next to their partners. 

Bad raised his hand before everyone started their chaos of moving around and complaining about who they were partnered with. “Ms. Elena I wasn’t assigned a partner.”

She looked back down at her list. “You can either join a pair or you can work by yourself.” He grinned. 

“I’ll work by myself thanks Ms. Elena.”

Yells of complaints colored the air.

“I’m partnered with Kameto Ms. Elena! How is that fair he’s always skipping!”

Ms. Elena sighed. “Pierre, pairs are final. If anyone has any requests to change due to extreme circumstances we will open requests tomorrow. Now go sit with your partners.”

Missa got up and moved his stuff so that he was sitting next to Phil. Bad was sitting across the table from them.

“I’m bound to get extra credit for this right?” Bad said. “Bet my egg will live longer with one person.”

Phil glared at Bad. “Fuck that.” He raised his voice. “Ms. Elena, can we have two eggs?”

She seemed overjoyed that someone wanted to participate.

“Of course! I’ll give you and Missa two when I’m passing them around!”

Missa didn’t like being trapped between Bad and Phil. Each of them looked ready to kill the other. 

The tension only eased when Ms. Elena handed Missa two eggs. 

“These aren’t just eggs, they each need their own unique personality. Your first assignment is to give them a personality by combining you and your partner's interests. Then you will give them one item to identify them from the other eggs!” Ms. Elena announced as she handed out the final eggs.

The room was filled with chatter. Bad started scribbling down notes on his paper. 

“So I’m Phil, sorry for getting you involved with double the work,” He smiled like he was a little proud of himself despite what he was saying.

“I’m Missa. It’s not an issue with me.”

“Great! So what do you want to name them?” Missa stared at the eggs. 

“Well Chayanne is the name of a Spanish singer…”

“Oh, is that a singer you like?” 

Missa laughed. “Not really, he’s more like the singer that every latino mom has a crush on. I thought it was silly.”

“Well Chayanne works, what about the other one?”

“I named the first one, you should name the other one.”

Phil paused. “Lullah? Like Tallulah but shorter.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

Phil pulled out a piece of paper from his notebook. “Lullah and Chayanne. What would they look like?”

“Chayanne would look like you and Lullah would look like me.”

Phil wrote that down in perfectly neat handwriting that made Missa’s practiced writing look like chicken scratch.

“Lullah would be a girl and Chayanne would be a boy right?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Phil pushed back his sleeves that flowed with sheer lace, revealing a small tattoo on the underside of his wrist. “You have a tattoo?” 

Phil stared at Missa. “Yes? Is that an issue?”

“No, I just didn’t expect you to have a tattoo. It’s cool.”

“Thanks. It’s a reminder of a friend.”

Phil seemed tense, like he didn’t want any more questions so Missa dropped the subject. “What do you think they would enjoy?”

“Well, I like sketching—“

“And starting fights.” Bad chimed in, looking to Missa for him to laugh.

Phil nearly lunged at Bad. “Get out of my face.”

“Careful there Philza, don’t want to get into another fight with me, we both know you’ll end up with a black eye again.”

Phil scowled before busying himself with his notebook.

Bad laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

Missa hated the tension and he unconsciously started fidgeting with his bracelet.

Phil turned his attention back on Missa. “Don’t let him get near our eggs.”

“I won’t.”

“Great, you give them traits I’ll be right back.” Phil stood up and left Missa alone with the paper and two eggs.

“You need to stop being so afraid of an easy fight.”

“What?” Missa locked eyes with Bad. 

“You’re anxious, you have nervous habits. If Phil and I did happen to get into a fight you would side with me. And you hate that because as much as you hate that your loyalties lie with me because I’m a part of soulfire. Despite all of that your loyalty is one of your strongest traits. I can count on you in a fight because you side with whoever manages to capture your loyalty. And I saved you from those wolves .” Missa shuddered at the mention of the incident that happened months ago. 

He busied himself with decorating the eggs, ignoring Bad’s eyes.

[study-with-aura]

Tuesday, April 9, 2024

Today went very well. I am glad that I was able to catch up on my posts during my break earlier. I am now eating my evening snack, and then I will get ready for bed before spending a bit of time with my parents until it is time for sleep.

I am not quite sure if I am a fan of statistics quite yet seeing as conditional probability took me a little longer to understand, but I do think I finally figured it out so it made sense in my brain. On the other hand, the book that I am almost done with is so good. They mentioned the father of taxonomy, who I only recently studied in Biology. Yes, I forgot his name, but it isn't important as he did a terrible thing by assigning value to a person based on their race and said that there were four races, and technically even five, and then he assigned them an order and why they were in that particular order. Apparently, that was one of the ideas behind race realism which is pseudoscience at best in which geneticists even say there is no actual scientific backing for despite how it is often displayed. Although, I am finding this out from this book, with what I know in general, I trust it. Sometimes non-fiction can be difficult to read, but when it's written like this, and because I like history, I don't want to put the book down. It's strange that I somewhat remember hearing about some of the events mentioned in the book, but I can't recall it perfectly. I was only 7 then!

Tasks Completed:

Geometry - Learned about conditional probability + practice + learned to check for independence with conditional probabilities + practice + honors work

Lit and Comp II - Reviewed Unit 23 vocabulary + read chapters 54-55 of Emma by Jane Austen and finished the novel + took quiz on Emma (12/10)

Spanish 2 - Copied and studied clothing vocabulary

Bible I - Read 1 Samuel 13-14:1-15

World History - Learned about Anne Frank + read some of Anne Frank's writings + learned about Nazi ideology

Biology with Lab - Completed virtual mystery "lab" story (14/15)

Foundations - Read more on thoroughness + took next quiz on Read Theory + read steps of Monroe's "Motivated Sequence" + read about the psychology of persuasion

Piano - 60-minute piano lesson + practiced for one hour

Khan Academy - Built into coursework

CLEP - None today

Streaming - Watched Greatest Events of World War II in Color episode 3

Duolingo - Studied for 15 minutes (Spanish, French, Chinese) + completed daily quests

Reading - Read pages 323-376 of Accountable: The True Story of a Racist Social Media Account and the Teenagers Whose Lives It Changed by Dashka Slater

Chores - Laundry

Activities of the Day:

Personal Bible Study (2 Corinthians 6)

Ballet

Pointe

Journal/Mindfulness

-

What I’m Grateful for Today:

I am grateful that my piano teacher was very proud of me today for having three of my pieces fully memorized and almost a fourth!

Quote of the Day:

Without music, life would be a blank to me.

-Emma, Jane Austen

🎧10 Pieces from Romeo and Juliet, Op. 75 - Sergei Prokofiev

[bearjam]

Somethings the queer community does that I will never understand as a queer person:

1) why people in the community invalidate other peoples sexualities ex: bi/pan and aspec. Yall know we’re apart of the acronym right?

2) why some folks want “LBG without the T” congrats idiots. You have trans black women to thank for most of your rights today

3) why queer people “assign sexualities” to other queer people (usually aspec) or straight people who “don’t act straight” like ??? A) the closet is a closet for a reason. Some people aren’t comfortable or don’t feel safe coming out and B) don’t invalidate someone’s identity or label?? It’s what’s working for them at the time they’re discovering them self???

4) hate on queer people who may not be “loud and proud at pride” and vise versa. Like it’s their pride. Let them display it how they want as long as it isn’t hurting anyone else. I literally wore jeans and a black button up to my first pride (I’m just not into loud colors)

I’ll probably add more later idk these are the things that are currently in my mind this pride month.

[blackhairedjjun]

flowers of every color | 3. lilies of the valley

overall summary: when your father is assigned as the new head gardener to the royal family, you are also tasked with helping him maintain the castle's many gardens and extensive floral arrangements. by chance you find yourself crossing paths with the "ice-cold" crown prince, choi yeonjun... who turns out to be not as ice-cold as everyone says he is.

chapter summary: the royal family throws a ball and you're in charge of floral decorations. along the way, you spy on some official business and meet two other princes of the house of choi...

word count: 1.9k

warnings: a character yelling at another but it's very minor

author’s note: this is more of a transitional chapter but it's gonna set up some things for later in the story! also WE'RE FINALLY GETTING SOOGYU HERE ヽ(⌒▽⌒)ﾉ yes the choi line are all distantly related in this fic, they belong to the same royal house but are like... very very distant cousins or something lol. easier for me to do than to make them unrelated and part of 3 different houses of choi and me explaining "no they're all different" ksljdfkls

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“those look amazing, y/n. you sure they aren’t ready yet?”

yeonjun watches you as you walk through the greenhouse, showering a long row of lilies of the valley with your watering can. the flowers arrived just that morning and you need to treat them with care before they’re planted. as you water them, the droplets stick to the little white bulbs of flowers and catch the sunlight. you smile at the sight and spy yeonjun smiling at at them, too.

“give them a few days, your ma- yeonjun. they’ll look even more beautiful planted at the front entrance.”

you notice his smile grow just a bit bigger at you using his name, a habit you haven’t quite gotten used to yet. “can’t wait,” he says, and bends down to talk to one of the flowers. “you need to grow up well, okay? make y/n proud! don’t disappoint them!” he laughs and you start giggling yourself.

“they’ll have to make you proud too, you know. we can’t have your ball guests thinking poorly of you and your family because of a few wilted flowers.”

“i know, i know...” yeonjun wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close, and you put down your watering can to accommodate him. “but you should be the one getting the credit. you worked so hard to get these shipped here and take care of them, so you should be proud of yourself.”

you nod, feeling warm at his touch, and lean into him as he pats your shoulder. 

there’s only a few days left until the welcome ball that the royal family is hosting for some diplomatic envoys, and you and your father have been tasked with preparing the gardens and floral decorations for the event. the two of you have been up to your necks in work: surveying the gardens, planning the theme and the floral arrangements to go with it, going through your inventory of flowers, and preparing them for planting once they’ve started to bloom. 

that means that you simply haven’t had the time to do your usual errand of leaving specially chosen flowers in yeonjun’s bedroom. you’re grateful, then, that he took matters into his own hands: he declared that he would be in charge of overseeing the gardens and floral decor for the event, which was really a thinly veiled excuse to see you.

“can i try?” yeonjun picks up the watering can you set down. “let me help you too.”

“careful, i’m the one with the green thumb around here,” you tease. “we don’t want the flowers withering and dying before ball day.”

“hey! c’mon, that’s not fair.” he pouts and brings the watering can close to his chest. “i haven’t even done anything yet, you don’t know if they’ll die! maybe i’ll do a great job and they’ll bloom even more!”

you laugh and shake your head. “fine, fine. maybe the flowers will be awed by your majesty.” you see him sigh as you mention his title. “here, you can try watering this row, i haven’t worked on them yet.”

一

on the day of the ball itself, you change out of your usual faded gardening smock into the plain navy blue uniform assigned to servants of the castle. it’s not as comfortable as your usual attire, but the fabric is not as stiff as you feared it would be, and you move around the castle grounds freely.

while you are neither a guest at the ball nor one of the servants working in the ballroom itself, the chamberlain wanted anyone who lives or works on the castle grounds to look presentable, just in case the envoys saw them while walking around. besides, he told you and your father, you need to be on call in case one of the flowerbeds or vases gets ruined and needs to be replaced.

you spend the early afternoon wandering around the southern gardens, admiring the work that you and your father did over the past few weeks. the lilies of the valley sway gently in the breeze, their white bulbs rustling like tiny bells. as you gaze at the horizon, the flowers you planted seem to meld together into a symphony of colors: white and yellow, light and dark blue, pink and purple. you can’t help but marvel at the sight, and at the realization that you and your father managed to do all that. you should be proud of yourself, yeonjun told you, and you do feel a bud of pride swell in your chest.

you spot movement from the corner of your eye and turn towards the southern castle entrance facing the gardens. there you see yeonjun dressed finely for the occasion, meeting with a pair of middle-aged men in heavy grey jackets adorned with medals. you tilt your head at the sight as curiosity gets the better of you 一 because of how busy you are, you’ve never actually seen yeonjun on his princely duties. you move closer, but out of their line of sight, wondering what on earth they could be talking about; soon you are able to examine their faces, yet remain far enough that their words are only unintelligible noise.

the shorter of the two middle-aged men appears to be raising his voice, his eyes bulging as he goes on a tirade that you can’t hear. the other man, almost as tall as yeonjun himself, is smiling but his expression is strained as if trying to hide something. you glance over at yeonjun and notice that his face has turned cold. he stares at them as if he sees right through them, and his lips are pulled in a taut line. when the short man finishes his tirade and the prince is allowed to respond, his expression barely changes.

of course. the ice-cold prince, you remember. the more you get to know yeonjun, the more you realize that the moniker is a carefully crafted facade. since he is the only child and heir of the house of choi, the future of the kingdom hangs on his shoulders; he knows that there are too many people who see him as a weak spot, waiting for him to make a mistake so that they can take power for themselves. to keep them at bay he puts on an air of haughtiness, signaling that he is not the weak spot they think him to be.

but he is nothing like that, you think 一 you know. you know how he smiles at the smallest of joys, how he loves the company of friends, how he knows the right thing to say to bring comfort or encouragement; there is nothing cold about him. yet not only is that side of himself hidden from others, but also that side must remain hidden from certain people to protect his kingdom. you feel a sting in your heart at the thought.

the two middle-aged men start to leave, and yeonjun turns to head back to the castle. you wonder what they have been discussing, though you assume it’s something you probably have no involvement in. before you can think about it any further, you are distracted by distant shouting at the edge of the gardens.

“hey, you’ve had several turns now, let me try!”

“just wait, i’m trying to beat my record!”

“you said that last time and you haven’t beaten your record yet! just accept that you’re never going to beat it!”

“hyung, how could you say that?! i thought you were my biggest support一”

their words are cut off and you hear rustling, followed by a panicked shout. then something gently bumps against your feet 一 a small rubber ball.

the ball is soon followed by two young men around yeonjun’s age running towards you. one of them is lanky with a slender face, the other tall with high features. you notice that their coats also bear the embroidered insignia of the house of choi.

“look what you did, you almost scared one of the servants,” the tall one chides.

“relax, they’re doing just fine. right?” the lanky one gives you a charming smile.

you stare for a moment, unsure what to make of these rowdy young men, until you remember your manners and make a hasty bow.

“i’m alright, thank you. don’t worry about me. here.” you pick up the ball and hand it to them.

“i’m terribly sorry for troubling you like this,” the tall one says and returns the bow. “let me introduce ourselves. i’m choi soobin, prince of the central branch of the house of choi.”

“i’m choi beomgyu, prince of the eastern branch,” the lanky one says. “nice to meet you.”

your eyes light up as you recall yeonjun mentioning just how extensive the house of choi is, with rulers in different kingdoms. yeonjun’s own family, he once said, is from the main northern branch.

“pleased to meet you, your majesties,” you say, bowing again more deeply. “i’m y/n, and i’m one of the gardeners of the castle. i hope you’ll enjoy our gardens.”

at the mention of your name, soobin and beomgyu exchange knowing looks. beomgyu breaks out into a wide grin.

“you一 you’re y/n! you’re the one yeonjun hyung mentions all the time in his letters!”

“e-excuse me?”

“a-ah, pardon us...” soobin flushes and gives you an embarrassed smile. “we’ve heard a lot about you from yeonjun hyung. he writes to us and tells us about a gardener friend that he made. that’s you... right?”

now it’s your turn to flush at his words. “i-uh... unless he made another gardener friend, i suppose that’s me.”

the two of them are now grinning from ear to ear, and you flush even deeper. just what did yeonjun tell them about you?

as if on cue, your friend appears behind soobin and beomgyu and wraps an arm each around their shoulders. “found you!”

“yeonjun hyung!” 

the three young men tackle each other in an embrace and nearly fall over, cheering and laughing as they do. you hear shouts of “i missed you!” and “i got more handsome, right?!” amidst the chaos, and your heart grows light at the sight. gone is the ice-cold prince from moments ago, and here again is the friend you know.

once the greeting is over, yeonjun pokes his head from the tackle-hug out at you. “y/n! you’re here!” he releases himself from his companions and pulls you into a hug of your own. “i’m so glad you made it out,” he says, pulling away. “and how come you met soobin and beomgyu without me?! i was going to introduce you in a dignified way!”

“anything is more dignified than running into gyu trying to beat his football record,” soobin snorts.

“i was going to beat it if you didn’t distract me! and my record is still better than yeonjun hyung’s.”

“hey, why are you bringing me into this?!”

you can’t help but snort at their banter, and all three of them turn to look at you.

“c’mon, you two. you’re embarrassing me in front of y/n.” yeonjun links your arm with his and turns to the others. “let’s do a tour of the castle gardens? i need to show all the work y/n did. they did an amazing job.”

“he never shuts up about you,” beomgyu says to you.

you smile before you even realize it; you only feel it when your cheeks begin to hurt. “sure, i’ll show you around,” you say. “let me tell you all about the flowers for tonight’s ball...”

end notes: alright! for chapter 4 we're getting the actual ball (kinda-sorta), and we're getting a nice lovely yeonjun x reader moment ;~; ch4 is my favorite one so far so i'm excited to finish it and post it aaaaaa

[leahthetincan]

For a school assignment I had to summarize a book so i chose fablehaven secrets of the dragon sanctuary. I chose to go the extra mile and make a puppet show here are some of the puppets I made I had to ask my sister to color the characters because in between drawing and coloring I hurt my hand so it didn’t turn out perfectly but I’m really proud of them.

[whoopsiedaisy20]

Happy birthday, Refaat.

A letter

Dear Refaat,

I wrote a letter for your birthday. It’s a cliché, I know, but I had to, considering you spent years terrorizing us into becoming better writers!

I think back to when we first crossed paths in 2014, right after that 51-day Israeli military assault. The air in Gaza was thick with smoke, grief, and rubble, and Gaza felt like it was still bleeding. Everyone was picking up the pieces of what was left of their homes and lives, yours included. Israel had killed your brother, and your family home had been reduced to dust and memories from the past. Yet somehow, you stood tall, the daring man from Shijaiyah you were, like a resilient age-old olive tree that refuses to bow to the storm.

A year later, I joined "We Are Not Numbers," a space you helped create for young writers in Gaza to tell their stories to the world. I was full of self-doubt; writing had always been my refuge, but in Arabic. English felt like a mountain I wasn’t sure I could climb. I doubted my ability to pour my heart out in English, to capture the same depth, the same sincerity. You were our creative writing mentor, and let’s be honest, you were terrifying at first. Not because you were unkind, but because you could see right through us. There was no room for mediocrity around you. You’d look at a piece of writing, smirk, and say, “You can do better,” and we’d all collectively feel like we were back in kindergarten, trying to color within the lines. But that’s where your magic lay. You pushed us so hard that we had no choice but to grow. And suddenly, the mountain I feared didn’t seem so steep.

Harsh but kind. Patient but merciless. You didn’t give out compliments freely, and when you did, it felt like scoring a banger in a World Cup final. I remember those early days when I’d turn in a piece of writing, hoping it was good enough, and you’d read it with that poker face of yours. I’d sit there sweating, waiting for the verdict, and you’d say something like, “Well, this is a start,” which meant, “Back to the drawing board.” But deep down, we all knew that’s what made you brilliant. You never let us settle. Always dropping knowledge and resources like breadcrumbs, you forced us to dig deeper, to think harder, to write with more heart. You turned every assignment into a long but exhilarating battle between us and our own potential. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

A year later, you taught me Romantic Literature in my senior year at the Islamic University of Gaza. For the final project, you gave us the option to write a short story or an article. I went for the article, thinking I was being smart, sidestepping all the creative fluff. I was so proud of that piece until you handed it back with a “B+”. When my inner nerd was about to fight you on the grade, you said it was one of the best pieces you’d read written by a student of yours. I spent the next several years waving that compliment around like a trophy, as if it overnight made me a literary genius. I’m pretty sure I drove my friends crazy bragging about it. Even after I graduated, even when we had moved from being teacher and student to friends, you’d remind me of that piece. You’d bring it up, laughing, just to remind me that you still kept it because it was one of your favorites. I didn’t need an A+.

Then in 2018, when you asked me to be your teaching assistant for that program training Gaza’s youth to help them seek online self-employment jobs, I was honored and slightly terrified. We were teaching them everything from basic English communication skills to translation theory, and you were the same relentless caring mentor, following up with trainees even after the program ended, checking their progress, reviewing their work like a proud father.

That time gave me a whole new perspective. I wasn’t just the student sitting in the seats before you anymore. I had moved to the assistant standing right beside you, catching a glimpse of your two worlds. In one, you were under the spotlight, practicing your signature tough love as a mentor and showering your students with knowledge and wisdom. In the other, behind the scenes, I saw you carefully and painstakingly preparing teaching materials and doing research. You’d even come to me seeking advice. Me? You said I was closer in age to the students, so surely I had some insights that could help you connect better with them. It was your subtle way of empowering me, nudging me toward confidence, and preparing me for the day I’d stand on my own feet in front of my own class. And when that day came the following year, there I was, leading my own sessions, using the materials you had spent years refining, which you handed over to me with ultimate generosity. It was as if you were saying, "I’ve cleared the path a little, and now it’s your turn." And it made all the difference. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.

We could spend hours dissecting every football match, exchanging memes and jokes, and diving into the absurdity of imagining how Shakespeare himself might have poetically narrated that jaw-dropping Messi goal or that flawless perfectly timed assist. But it wasn’t just football. We bonded over everything: shows, movies, books. You were a magnet for creativity, drawn to it wherever it lived. You had this infectious love for memes. You didn’t just enjoy them; you liked being the subject of them. You'd proudly send me a meme or a WhatsApp sticker and type with childlike excitement, "Look what a student sent me today!" It was like you were collecting little tokens of joy from everyone around you, and they kept coming because you gave so much of it yourself.

Even in our final conversation, just a week before you were killed, you sent me a meme you'd made about your car, abandoned somewhere in Gaza City, stranded between Israeli tanks and the Palestinian resistance. You were forced to leave it behind, yet you found a way to laugh about it. That was just who you were: a lighthearted soul even amid war. You joked, even as you were running from one shelter to another, trying to find a place safe enough for your family and children. You had lost more than 10 kilos from the lack of food, but somehow, you hadn’t lost your spirit.

And even in those darkest moments, when survival was the only thing that should’ve mattered, you still checked on me. I wasn’t even in Gaza, yet you asked if I needed anything. You asked about my family, who had fled to the south, offering to help with money, food, water… whatever they needed. In the middle of your own chaos, your instinct was still to care for others. Even as war tried to strip everything from you, it couldn’t take your heart.

Refaat,

I can picture you in heaven, just as I saw you in life. If I were to draw a cartoon of this picture, it would be of a tall, thin man in constant motion, a pen always tucked into your chest pocket like a loyal companion, your fingers typing away on your phone, capturing bits of a story or idea that just popped into your mind. Above your head, I’d sketch dozens of glowing lamps, floating like a cloud, never running out of light, just like you never ran out of ideas. These lamps would illuminate your path and extend their light to every corner you passed, giving others who follow the chance to walk with fewer stumbles, fewer bumps, because you’d been there first.

Dear Refaat,

When hope abandons me, when despair grips my heart and I question the purpose of all this endless suffering, your memory saves me. The weight of living in a world that has taken so much from us, sometimes feels unbearable. But then I think of you, how you lived, how you fought, and how you were taken from us too soon. I think of you and all those I’ve lost because of the Israeli occupation in these nearly 30 years of my life. I think of the way you fought for us, for our right to exist in a world that seems to offer only cruelty in return. I refuse to accept that your sacrifice, your life, was in vain. You, and all the others, cannot simply be gone without purpose. You can’t just disappear into the void, as if you were never here, leaving your work unfinished. You walked so that we could run, and I will run, crawl, swim, fly, and move mountains to make sure you didn’t leave for nothing. When the strength to continue eludes me, when getting out of bed feels impossible, when I’m too broken to keep going, I think of you. You stood tall in the face of unspeakable horror, in a world full of cowards. You fought with every breath and with every “expo marker” you held. For you, for me, for all of us, and for the long life you should have had, I’ll fight back.

Happy birthday, Refaat. I’m looking at you and waiting for you, as you wield a red pen, to meticulously edit this letter and send it back with corrections.

Haya Abu Shammala is a writer who works in PR and communication. She is a former student and a friend of Dr. Refaat Alareer.

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[browniesarethebest]

I’m just absolutely in love w ur reverse batfam au! I’d love to see the first time one of the rogues meets Robin. Like, who is this brightly colored child that just did a crazy flip and laughed while kicking my goon in the head???

Aw thank you! Here you go!

Note: This has been in my drafts forever and I am so sorry for that. It's been a very hectic time.

"All right, are you ready?" Spoiler asked as she put her hood up.

"Yes!" Robin replied, bouncing from foot to foot impatiently. He had been out as Robin before, but only to take out a couple of two-bit thugs. With the recent Arkham breakout, however, it was all hands on deck, and Dick thought there wasn't a better time for him to finally fight a Rogue. Of course, they wouldn't be sending him to one like the Joker, but Dick didn't really care who he got to fight as long as he did get to finally fight a Rogue.

...Okay, so maybe he didn't want someone like Condiment King, but Dick was pretty sure they were sending him after the Riddler.

Dick was decked out in his Robin costume, which was a fight to get made the way he wanted. He had on his red, short-sleeved tunic, but had to compromise with shorts rather than the actual leotard. He refused to wear pants, and the Bats refused to send him out in what Jason called "scaly, green panties." His outfit was completed with green boots and a bright yellow cape.

It was much brighter than any of the other Bats' costumes, but Dick didn't care. These were the Graysons' colors, and he was going to make his parents proud.

Stephanie came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "You're with me tonight." She leaned down and whispered loudly into his ear. "Damian and I had to rock, paper, scissors for it."

Robin giggled. "And he lost?" He looked over to Shadowbat, who was glowering at the distress signals that lit up the map of Gotham.

"I'm never letting him live it down," she replied, grinning.

Once everyone was suited up and had their assignments, Robin hopped on the back of Steph's motorcycle, whooping with delight as they sped out of the Cave. The Riddler had been last seen by the docks—how cliche—and it took all of Dick's restraint to not bounce right off the seat before they got there. As soon as Spoiler parked, Dick was flipping off the bike and once again bouncing from foot to foot with impatience. Steph put a hand on his shoulder to still the boy.

"I know you're excited," she said softly. "But this is serious. I need you to bring your A-game. Think you can do that for me?"

Robin nodded eagerly before trying to school his face into a more serious expression. Spoiler suppressed a smile as the boy clearly failed.

"All right, let's go."

They snuck into the warehouse Riddler was last seen in carefully. It was pitch black, so Spoiler and Robin switched to night vision. They were quickly blinded as the lights switched on.

"Riddle me this! I open up to let you through. I can be a clever trick or the means to your doom."

"A trapdoor!" Spoiler grabbed Robin and shot her grapple towards the ceiling just as a trapdoor opened beneath them. She swung them to safety and set Robin down as the Riddler's cackle filled the room.

"I am always around but unseen. I am often avoided but never outrun. I could find you at the end of the road or even the next corner. What am I?"

Robin bounced up and down with his hand raised. "Oh! Oh! I know this one! It's Death!" He turned to Spoiler with a grin. "I read that in my book of riddles I got at the Scholastic book fair."

The Riddler had gone silent as Stephanie attempted to hold in her snort.

"...Is that a fucking five-year-old?"

"Hey!"

"Never mind that! The kindergartner is correct! Prepare to die!"

Goons flooded into the room and surrounded the duo. Spoiler's heart skipped a beat, feeling nervous for the first time in a while. She knew Dick was prepared, but she couldn't help but worry for him. The Riddler was right—Dick was just a child. Though he wasn't quite as young as Riddler thought, his youth still jumped out at Stephanie.

She took a deep breath and clenched her fists. She could feel Robin tensing behind her.

He could do this.

And he did.

The fight wasn't easy—it never was with disproportionate numbers, but Spoiler and Robin prevailed. Her heart bloomed with pride as they worked together to take down Riddler's goons, just as they had practiced. She could sense the henchmen's confusion as Dick flipped, kicked, and cackled. It wasn't exactly the first time they had fought one of Batman's children, but none of them had been quite like Robin.

Damian had been like a shadow in the night (no pun intended)—silent, quick, and almost deadly. The criminals of Gotham had referred to him as a demon. Tim had been wise-cracking but efficient. Jason had probably been the closest in similarity to Dick, but he still hadn't quite had the grace and flexibility that the younger boy possessed.

Not to mention that they had all been older than Dick when they started.

She could see a few men hesitate to hit Robin when he was in range—not that the boy would have let them. Spoiler could tell that Dick was aware of his surroundings. She could also see how Robin's cackles unnerved others and the glee Dick took in causing that.

Soon enough, the last goon was knocked out, and Spoiler and Robin moved further into the warehouse. There were many more riddles and traps for them to get through, but Stephanie was always the best one at solving riddles (besides Batman), and that riddle book Dick had bought seemed to come in handy as well. It wasn't long before Spoiler was breaking down the door to the Riddler's control room. The man scrambled out of his chair and bolted for the hidden exit, but he was stopped as Robin launched towards him from Spoiler's shoulders.

"Riddle me this! What's black, blue, and green all over?" the boy called out before delivering a swift kick to the Riddler's face and knocking the man to the floor. "You after I kick your butt!"

The Riddler stared up at Robin incredulously as he held his bruised jaw. "Seriously?!"

Robin smirked as he put his hands on his hips. "Looks like you got your ass kicked by a third-grader!"

The Riddler stared at Spoiler, who grinned in response. "You heard the kid."

Spoiler cuffed the Riddler and led him out just in time for a couple of squad cars to pull up. The officers paused briefly at the sight of the boy in traffic light colors but were able to shrug it off. The Bats were psycho but they knew what they were doing. For all the officers knew, this kid was probably a demon in disguise.

Spoiler and Robin were perched on a warehouse rooftop as they watched as the Riddler was loaded in and driven back to Arkham. Robin was vibrating with excitement as he turned to face her.

"So did I do good tonight? I did, right? Wasn't I so cool? I was like 'Bam! Pow! Riddle me this, Riddler!'" He punched and kicked the air as he spoke but stilled at Spoiler's hand on his shoulder.

"You did great tonight. I'm so proud of you."

Robin beamed before grinning sheepishly. "Just don't tell Agent A I said 'ass,' okay?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," Stephanie replied, holding out her fist. "Sibling honor, little dude."

Dick bumped her fist. "Sibling honor!"

"Now what do you say we get some post-fight milkshakes before we join up with the others?"

"Yeah!"

[sl-newsie]

Query: Q x 00 Agent- Ch. 14: Unexpected

This time when I enter Q’s apartment it feels normal instead of having to hide here. It’s a shame Moneypenny can’t join us but the crowd of 3 cats welcoming us is enough to make up for that.

“Sit down and relax. I’ll start the meat.” Q waves me over to the couch and then goes about pulling out beef and all kinds of vegetables.

“No, no. You’ve been through Hell tonight. The least I can do is help chop something.” I walk over to stand at the island counter. “Being a 00 agent has taught me plenty of skills with a knife. Maybe I can put them to another use besides stabbing people.”

Q laughs and brings over some celery. “If you insist. I’ll- Um. Would you like a new shirt?”

His question draws me to look down at my ragged uniform with a hole still ripping through. “Do you mind?”

He shakes his head and goes for the stairs. “Not at all. Wait right here.”

While he’s gone I bend down to pet the needy cats. Cricket takes the liberty to hop up on my shoulder while the other two climb onto my lap. Who says I need a therapist? Cats are far superior to any help a person could give.

“This is the closest- Oh!” Q stops in his tracks when he sees the pile of fur I’m trapped under. “I see you’re occupied.”

“You can’t invent this kind of love,” I chuckle as I lift the happy felines off me and carry them to the couch. “Maybe when I’m old and gray then I’ll retire to a cat café.”

Q strides up behind me holding a gray sweater. “This is the closest thing that fits your size. Sorry if it’s not as colorful as you’re used to.”

“Anything is appreciated, Q. Thank you.” 

I take the garment and tear off my tattered shirt, noticing Q takes this moment to busy himself with preparing the meat. I appreciate his modesty but I don’t see a reason to be so. He’s seen me with only a bra and boxers, so what’s the difference? Ignoring this I give one last scratch to Cricket’s ears when I spot a picture frame of Q’s family. There’s unmistakable resemblance between Q and a man I’m assuming is his father. Same lanky build, crazy dark hair, and wild eyes. His mother has the same kind expression. I also see he has two sisters.

“I didn’t know you had siblings,” I comment out loud.

Q looks up from where he’s working. “Yes. That’s Clarice and Alice. That was taken before I joined MI6. By now they’re both married.” His face grows stern and he returns to pounding the meat. “Unfortunately I was not invited to attend the celebrations.”

This intrigues me. “Why’s that? Are they mad at you?”

“In a way, yes. Partially it’s my fault. Since I’m part of such a top-secret government program I’m not allowed to communicate with my family on a daily basis. When I joined they said I was ignoring my family just for a big paycheck.”

They thought…? I can’t believe this!

“Well they’re wrong,” I say stubbornly. “They should be proud.”

Q grunts and hastily washes his hands looking more stressed. “They’re partially right. But I’m not abandoning them for a paycheck. I was doing it to make them proud, but now I know I signed my life away until I decide to retire.”

I frown. “Q, you don’t always have to, what’s a good way to put it? Stress to impress. You already do that without trying. Your inventions are magnificent!”

“It’s not just inventing,” Q goes on to explain and walks over next to me to point at his two sisters. “My family is also disappointed that I’m not striving to copy my sisters and start my own family.”

It’s sad that Q disagrees but at the same time I can’t ignore my own thoughts. I turn and place a calm hand over Q’s.

“At least you could if you wanted to. Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan out a life as a 00 agent? Every time I’m sent on an assignment I’m expected to die.”

Q flinches a bit at my touch but keeps a stiff face. “I couldn’t. In my line of work being Quartermaster is my top priority despite others’ disapproval. No one would be willing to put up with my schedule.”

So that’s his problem? He’s sad because he can’t find a date? Why didn’t he just say that?

“Q, anyone should be thankful to be in your life. But not just anyone. You deserve someone who respects your judgment and your position as Quartermaster, and won’t pressure you into something.” I’ll admit I’m a tad crushed that he’ll be looking for a relationship with someone else but I can’t be selfish and discourage him. “If you ever need any help I could always scout around for any suitable candidates.”

By now Q’s grip is all but squeezing the blood out of my hand. His head is shaking, almost as if he’s about to explode, and he keeps staring at me.

“I don’t think you should stay here tonight.”

His words grasp my heart and tear it into a million pieces. My whole body freezes and all I can do is repeat Bond’s words in my head: do whatever it takes to make the enemy lower their guard. But Q isn’t playing me, he’s sincere. He really wants me to leave and head into the dark streets; maybe to be snuffed out by a street mugger. 

“After all you’ve talked about me being reckless, wanting to do everything by the book, this is very hypocritical of you.” I pull my hand away and go for the door. “If you wanted me dead you could’ve just pulled the trigger yourself.”

Q groans and, before I know what’s happening, grips my shoulders to make me face him.

“I don’t want you dead, Levie. I don’t think you should stay here because I want to keep things professional.” He used my nickname. 

I frown. “‘Professional?’ Is there some clause or something against coworkers meeting after hours?”

Q, still gripping my shoulders, hangs his head in frustration. “No. I’m afraid that if you stay then I’ll do something I might regret.”

This only confuses me more. Is he planning to kill me? “I don’t understand-”

“Oh for God’s sake!”

Q cups my face and does the very last thing I’d ever think he’s possible of. He kisses me.

I’ve only been kissed a few times throughout my life. All during missions, nothing serious. This kiss towers above all romantic gestures I’ve demonstrated. It’s desperate and sweet. I don’t even notice my hands snaking up to grip Q’s hair until he moans in response. This makes him go stiff and abruptly pull away, his eyes wide and worried.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- Well, I did want to- But we can’t- I’m not- Ugh. You must think I’m a joke.”

I take another deep breath and lean over to catch Q’s lips again. Now I’ve got him pinned on the couch and he seems to melt under me.

“Q, that was the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I say as I press kisses down his neck, gripping his tie. “You are anything but a joke. I never even thought you’d care about someone like this.”

His eyes never leave me as he pants to catch his breath, wrapping his arms around me. “I never intended to have romantic intentions with a coworker. But with you it- It just sort of… happened. You’re- you’re not upset?”

“Why would I be? I may not know what love is yet, but if it’s what I feel whenever I see you then I don’t want to give it up.” 

My answer sparks excitement in Q. But why is he shaking his head?

“I’m not a perfect man. You should find someone else.”

This will not do. I set my face straight. “You’re perfect to me, Q. You shouldn’t sell yourself short.” I add a smirk. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Q smiles appreciatively and kisses my cheek, then whispers: “You know, it always makes me jealous when I see you flirting with other men. I know it’s your job but I still can’t help it.”

I lift my eyes to his chocolate ones. “Can I tell you a secret?”

He grins. “Been keeping secrets from your Quartermaster, have you?”

“I think of you.” Q’s eyebrows raise. “Every time I have to flirt, I always think of you. Because a part of me wishes it was you I was flirting with, and that it somehow could be real.”

Q gets off the couch, kneels in front of me, and takes my hand. “This is real, I assure you.”

This is real. Is this what I’ve been missing? Maybe I should take a better look at how I want to live my life and stop putting off the future. After all, Q is a good man. One who I think will make me happy. But happiness can always be taken away. A new thought surfaces and makes my happy emotions fade. “The only regret I’d have is if my feelings for you put you in danger. It’s happened to Bond, it could happen to me too.”

Q nods, yet is unfazed by the idea. He presses a kiss to my forehead and leans his forehead against mine.

“I’m very well aware of the risks of this job, Levie. We don’t have to jump into this right away. We can test the waters and see if it’s safe. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Likewise. I know you’re not the most emotional person and I’m trained to block out emotions, so we should each get a feel of where we stand.” Fighting against the urge to keep lying with him I sit up in an attempt to make the conversation more professional. “Where exactly do you intend for this relationship to go?”

Q mirrors my posture and gets a deep thinking look. “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to keep this confidential to the workplace. Not just for safety but to also avoid the drama that will come with it. You know M won’t be entirely open to it.”

I nod. “Agreed. I don’t wish for M to think I’ve gone soft or else he’ll pull me from missions. You already know I’m not one for desk work, and I don’t plan on retiring anytime soon.”

Q copies my nod and jumps up to go tend to the vegetables in the frying pan. Once the meal is done he portions it out onto 2 plates and sets them on the kitchen table. We both sit and eat in a new comfortable silence; each of us coming to terms with what just happened.

“I’m curious. Everyone only calls you 0011 or Levie. Why is that?”

It makes my heart hum to know that Q is eager to use real names. I just wish I had one to give him.

“I have no real name.”

He tilts his head. “Really? You must have a name.”

Giving a dark chuckle, I take another bite of beef. “You should know why, Q. When I was assigned to you M gave you my file. If you did your research correctly, which I know for a fact you did, you read that my father was a Brit who knocked up an American woman, who dropped me off at M16 the day I turned 16.” Another bite. “Not as dramatic as Bond’s past. It’s nice actually, not having to worry about family getting in the way. I never knew my last name because my mother homeschooled me. She was too embarrassed to have a child out of wedlock so she kept me home. She never gave me a real name, only called me ‘girl’ or ‘child.’” I take a deep breath and turn my face up to meet Q’s eyes. “The day I joined MI6 was the day I finally got my freedom. I don’t need a name.”

The whole time Q’s been listening respectfully. Now he grabs my hand. “I did read your file. I just wanted to hear your story from you. Would you like a name?”

“Do you have one?”

“I do, actually. I was Geoffrey Boothroyd before I joined.” He gives my hand a squeeze. “We don’t have to use names if you don’t want to.”

After thinking a second a new idea surfaces. “Could you give me a name? We could use them during times out-of-office.”

Q’s eyes light up. “O-Ok! Um, hm… Let’s see…” He puts a finger to his chin and looks me up and down, making me feel like a test subject. “I like… Eleanor. How’s that sound?”

I- I straight up love it. It sounds powerful and elegant, it sounds… me. And the fact that Q is giving it to me makes it even better.

“Thank you, Geoffrey. That name sounds perfect!” I throw my arms around his neck and give him a deep kiss.

“Y-You’re welcome,” he stutters. “It’s strange hearing my name after all these years. It sounds good coming from you.”

I start to respond but get stopped by a yawn. Q laughs at this and moves to clear the dishes.

“I’m not tired! I can help-!”

Q cuts me off with a kiss. “Work can wait ‘til tomorrow. Right now you need rest. Ok?”

“You’ll be upstairs?”

He nods and sets the dishes in the sink, switching the kitchen light off once he’s finished. “I’m doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you your privacy.”

“Aw. That’s sweet. Thanks.” 

“Goodnight, Eleanor. If you need anything just call.”

Q gives me one final kiss on the head and climbs the stairs. How did my entire life change in the span of 15 minutes? Life’s never given me what I want and now I have everything. Focus, 0011. You can’t jump head-first into something like this. For all I know this could turn into the type of heartbreak Bond’s always going on about. I can’t let my emotions get in the way, no matter how ensnaring it is to think about having a somewhat normal life with Q.

The darkness is too taunting and I feel myself slipping into sleep once again, only this time I’m much more relaxed. Tonight’s events have left me exhausted but I know I’m safe now. No matter what criminals try to kill me tonight I know Q will have their heads before they can reach the door.

[rippeanuts1950-2000]

Green Is The Color Of Control: A Owl House Poem

The twins have dark green hair

It’s not like mom’s

Her’s is neon green

How they got dark green hair, I don’t know

It doesn’t matter though

They have green hair

And I don’t

My hair is brown

Like my dad’s

I look a lot like him actually

Though I doubt he notices

He’s so busy

I think he forgets he has three kids sometimes

Mom notices though

She sees that I look like him

I don’t think she likes it

The dye smells gross

Like iron mixed in with plastic

I tell mom I don’t want it

That I don’t want my hair to smell bad

Besides I already had a bad day

I had to stop being friends with Willow

Dying my hair will probably make today worse

She tells me that I’m being overdramatic

The twins watch nervously from their spot on the bathroom floor

Part of me wishes dad was here

Maybe he would stop it

But I’m not sure he would

I close my eyes as she starts to dye my hair

When it’s done I look at the mirror in shock

I don’t look like dad anymore

I look like mom

Mom looks happy

The twins look worried

I feel weird

Like this isn’t me

Maybe it isn’t

After mom dyes my hair there are more expectations put on me

Dad continues to do nothing about it

The twins start to distance themselves from me

Mom gets angry if I get less than a 105 on my assignments

The friends she picked out for me don’t seem to get that I need to study

They say I’m being a stick in the mud

I’m not I just don’t want to get scolded for something that could have been prevented

I miss Willow

Mom seems annoyed when I ask her to help me with my hair

“You should be doing this yourself” She tells me

She always complains about this while she does my hair

She pulls way too hard

I ask if I can dye my hair the twins’ hair color

Maybe if my hair looks like them they’ll want to hang out with me more

She scoffs before shaking her head

“Their hair color is too common”

“A Blight must be unique”

It’s the same thing every time I try and ask for a new color

I’m really starting to hate green

I hate how I can’t dye my hair any other color

I hate how proud mom looks when she sees it

I hate the feeling of pride that runs through me when she looks proud

I hate that it’s hard to look at the plant track uniforms

I hate all of this

Green used to be one of my favorite colors

It was the color that reminded me of Willow

The color that reminded me of safety

The color of two of my favorite people on the Isles hair

Before they were mean to me

It was the color of plants Willow would name for me

Now it’s the color of my mother

The color of my father’s negligence

The color of my sibling’s pranks

The color of broken dreams

The color of control.

[uses-for-fics]

Can't Get Enough

Darren x Reader

a/n: i think this drags on but whateverrrrrr i finished it and im proud i finally finished soemthing. 6 hours. 6 long miserable hours she had to endure in a cramped plane all because her boss wanted to be a bitch and make her miss out on her weekend. Y/n should’ve been out on her two day-relaxing wilderness retreat but instead she was stuck here, carrying all of her boss's luggage as she hauled ass right behind the terrifying woman. Luckily, she managed to put her phone into her purse before all the luggage was assigned to her. If she was going to be forced to be here, the least they should let her do was listen to her audiobook by the hotel pool.

She had safely made it into the giant glass box of a hotel without tripping and stared in awe. The hotel was lavish! She looked forward and there stood a giant waterfall in the middle of the lobby. The splashing water made it feel refreshing inside and brightened the already very luxurious place. Maybe she could find time to come back to the lobby and pretend she was far from work. She zoned out imagining all the fun she could be having right about now, failing to notice the dastardly woman calling her name until she saw old wrinkly fingers snap in her face.

“HELLO!!! Are you going to get my room keys or not?” Her boss’s shrill voice ringing in her ears. “Sorry, Ms. Featherington.” The older woman snapped her fingers and held out her hand. The assistant looked over to the receptionist and put down some of the luggage. “DONT DO THAT! These carpets are utterly dirty with everyone’s steps, my bags should NEVER touch the floor.” The shrill voice spoke up again.

The younger woman took in a long breathe. “I’m sorry, I won’t let it happen again.” She hobbled over to the desk with the bags all hanging on her, grabbing the key from the stranger. The receptionist gave her a small pity smile and pointed them in the direction of the elevators. “Your room will be that way.” Y/n noticed how the keys were different. One was a shiny goldish color, while the other was a plain grey color.

“Where will I sleep?” She asked. Ms. Featherington smiled. “The expenses could only cover for ONE penthouse suite, you’ll be sleeping in the ‘quainter’ rooms underneath. Now take my bags to my room and organize my things. I’m going for a trip to the spa and I’m expecting a spectacular reservation at the best restaurant around here at 7pm WITH a car pick up and I better not see a single thing out of place in my room when I get back.” With that the older lady put on her sunglasses and walked away. The poor assistant could just sigh and carry the heavy bags to the elevators.

She successfully managed to put all the bags into elevator and push the button to the 16th floor without falling over. Now she just needed to make it to the room...easy right? She had stacked all the luggage she could carry in a straight pile in her arms and weaved her way through the long hall. 'A few more steps and I'm there.' She thought to herself. She let out a sigh and started to feel the bags wiggle in her arms. 'Fuck.' It's all she could think of as she tried to catch the bags before they hit ground. From across the hall, Darren, Alexx and Joel had all finished cleaning the penthouse and were grabbing their cleaning items. Darren stretched his arms up until he heard a satisfying 'CRACK'. "I think we did a great job with this room. We deserve a little prize." He reached into his shirt's pocket and pulled out a pipe. "Dude! Seriously?" Joel reached out for the pipe. Darren extended his arm above Joel, making it hard for the scrawny man to reach it. "Come on man! Thats not good for you." Joel huffed. "Dude, if Darren wants to get shit faced, I think we should let him." Alexx said as he patted Darren's back. Darren nodded and took a hit from the pipe. Joel shook his head in disbelief. "You only think Darren should continue cause you're his supplier!" Alexx hushed Joel. "Not so loud man! Someone is going to hear you!" Darren blows out a ring of smoke and smiles. "Oh please, we're the only people here." Joel looks behind Darren and points. "Us and that person." The two other guys look behind themselves and see a giant stack of luggage wobbling. "Woahhhh technology has come so far! Luggage's can deliver themselves now." Alexx beamed. Joel rolled his eyes, "Thats obviously a person. Come on let's go help." Alexx shook his head. "No way man, we get paid to clean, NOT to carry bags, I'm not doing extra work." Darren shrugged and walked to the person struggling. "Here." He grabbed a couple of bags, just enough so it wouldn't be so heavy anymore for the person. He was able to see the person behind the luggage tower and smiled. He didn't expect to see a frantic looking woman. She looked up and saw him, her quivering lip turning into a smile. "Umm, let me help you." He chuckled as she loosened her grip on the bags. "Thank you." she said sheepishly. She looked tired, nervous, almost like she didn't want to be there and yet, Darren thought she looked beautiful. The woman took in her savior's features. Scruffy stubble, unkept fluffy hair, and glazed over hazel eyes. He looked like an angel to her. They hadn't noticed Joel grabbing some bags from the woman. She looked over at the second man and smiled up at him. She thanked him and reached into her pocket for the key card. Much to Alexx's dismay, all three men helped her bring the bags in. Alexx and Joel put the bags down near the entrance of the room and headed out of the room.

The woman called out before Darren could leave. "Wait!" She said just a bit too loud. She felt her face go red as Darren turned back to look at her. 'God was he cute.' She cleared her throat, "Let me at least tip you guys." She instinctively reached to her side, aiming to grab her purse but found air. She usually carried her purse on her person all the time in case Ms. Featherington needed something.

She looked up at Darren and gave a nervous chuckle. “Whoops, looks like I can’t find my purse, just give me one second.” She started scrambling around the luggage, in hopes it was just piled around there. Darren tried to reach out to her. "Oh no you don’t have to worry about that. It really wasn’t a problem." He grabbed ahold of her shoulder. She stopped her frantic searching and looked up at him. He noticed how tense she looked. Shit! She felt tensed! Almost like if she was on edge all the time.

She reached for his hand that laid on her shoulder. "I insist, you guys didn’t have to help, and I really do appreciate your help." He felt his face warm up from the lady’s touch…or maybe the drugs were staring to hit, he couldnt tell. The woman went back to looking for her bag and had become to look frantic every second she couldn’t find it.

"FUCK!" She threw her hands into her hair. Darren’s eyes widen at the sudden burst, walking closer to her. "Is everything ok?" She looked at him and started geting teary. "I must’ve left my bag on the elevator or in the lobby…I can’t remember…FUCK these stupid bags!" She huffed and covered her eyes. ‘Great. Just fucking great. She managed to lose her purse AND embarrass herself in front of the cute brunette.’

The other two men had come back into the room. "Darren we gotta go, as much as we like slacking off, Cassie is on her way checking the rooms weve done...which isnt a lot." Alexx whispered to Darren. Darren looked over to the crying woman. he couldnt leave her there, something about her just called to him. He turned back to Alex and Joel. “You guys go on without me. I’m going to hang back.” Alexx looked back at the woman who’s taken a seat on the couch. “Ohhh, getting her while she’s at her low. Nice move dude, I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.” He smirked up at Darren.

Darren smacked Alexx on his arm. “Obviously I'm going to help her look for her bag, dumbass." Joel rolled his eyes, a habit he's gotten used to since he met Alexx. "Come on, Cassie will be here any moment." Joel grabbed Alexx's collar and pulled him out of the room. "You owe us!" Alexx yelled as Joel dragged him out.

Darren huffed out. This is why he never got girls. He walked up to Y/n and crouched down in front of her. He put his hand on her knee. "Hey, it's going to be ok. I'1l help you look for your bag."

She moved her hands from her face and sniffled. "Really?" Darren's heart leaped. 'Even with teary stained cheeks, she looked absolutely vibrant. ' He patted her knee. "Of course! I have access to any room and any floor. We'll find that bag in no time!" He stood up and stretched his arm out to her. She took a hold of his hand and smiled. 'His hand was soft for a cleaning maid.'

"First things first, where do you remember last having your bag?" Darren intertwined his hand with hers. Her face reddened. "I remember definitely having it in the lobby, I put my phone in it an——“. It had dawned on her that Ms. Featherington could have blowing up her phone this second with messages and complaints. “FUCK! My phone is in there! My boss is going to be pissed!” Darren gently squeezed her hand as he felt her start to get anxious again.

“Hey hey hey, it’s going to be fine. I’m sure she’ll understand, it’s a small hiccup.” He calmed her down. She sighed. “You don’t understand. She’ll literally rip my head off for not answering right away. I can literally get kidnapped and she wouldn’t care, she would still hassle me to get her a hot Venti, caramel latte, with triple shots, no foam and extra caramel all made with skim milk.” She squeezed his hand.

The most he had to worry about was his sexist boss but even then he was mostly sexist with the women. Disgusting but he got away with getting high so he stayed. “Ok ok, here’s the game plan, let’s check the elevators first and we’ll go from there.” She took a deep breath and shook her head. “Ok, I trust you.”

This had started an 1 hour and a half long wild goose chase from avoiding Cassie, checking all the elevators, the downstairs lobby and even the parking lot but to no avail, they couldn’t find the purse. “It’s no use, I’ve lost all my contacts, my boss is going to be pissed I haven’t answered her and worst of all I won’t know if Colin and Penelope ever end up together!” She huffed as she leaned back in the elevator that was taking them back upstairs.

Darren chuckled. “Well it’s so obvious Penelope and Colin are gonna end up together, why wouldn’t they?” The girl glared at him. “Or maybe they don’t! I don’t know it’s not like I read the book or anything.” He gulped. The girl just hung her head low. The doors to the elevator beeped and opened to reveal a red head in a white button and a navy blue skirt. “Darren! I’ve been looking for you! You haven’t been getting high in the rooms again, have you?” She yelped.

Y/n lifted her head to give Darren a quizzical look. Darren gave a nervous smile. “Actually Cassie-“ he grabbed y/n’s hand to help her up from her slumped position. “I was helping the wonderful lady look for her lost purse. She can’t remember where she left it.” Cassie blinked. “Oh my, have you tried checking lost and found?” Darren just stood there.

“We have a lost and found?” He questioned. Y/n’s head turned slowly to glare daggers at Darren. Cassie huffed. “Come with me ma’am, I’ll take you there.” Y/n stepped out of the elevator and followed the poised woman. Darren followed suit. Y/n grabbed Darren’s shirt and pulled him down, enough to whisper to him. “How come you didn’t tell me there was a lost and found?” She looked absolutely charming while she was mad. Darren gave a small smile. “To be fair, I’m high like half the time I’m here.” He removed her hand from his shirt and held on to it. “Besides, even if I did know we had one, maybe I was just trying to get to know you more.”

Darren stood tall again, not letting go of her hand as they continued to walk. Y/n had to take a second to compose herself, feeling her cheeks turn to a dark shade of red again. This guy was going to be her downfall.

Silence stretched between them like a taut wire during the elevator ride back to the penthouse. Her bag, retrieved thanks to Darren, sat forgotten on the floor. Her gaze flicked between it and her phone. Should she confront the messages waiting there? Lost in thought, she barely registered the elevator doors sliding open, and only Darren's gentle hand on her arm brought her back to the present. She stood frozen, the weight of the unaddressed phone a burden in her hand. Darren's voice, softer than she expected, cut through the suffocating silence. "You should check it." (Y/n) lifted her head, eyes clouded with apprehension. Darren offered a hesitant shrug. "Here," he said, extending a hand. "Let me." Before she could voice a protest, his fingers brushed hers, sending a jolt through her. He took the phone, a silent decision made. He began scrolling through the messages, his jaw tightening with each new tirade. A frown etched itself onto his face as he read the vile attacks. He switched to the voicemail, the notification displaying a staggering number – fifty missed calls. He pressed play, but the speakerphone's harsh amplification only served to distort the voice on the other end. It was a torrent of obscenities, impossible to decipher. He couldn't focus on the words, his concern fixated on the woman beside him. (Y/n) flinched with every venomous insult, her shoulders hunching inwards as if trying to shrink away. The stark contrast between her earlier vibrancy and this fragile shell hit Darren with a force that left him speechless. All he could think about was the way this strong, bright young woman would crumble with each hateful message, the light in her eyes dimming with every attack. Darren took a deep breath, his eyes flickering from the phone screen to (Y/n)'s tense posture. With a determined swipe, he deleted the entire voicemail history. "Let's just forget about all this." He said, his voice firm yet gentle. He slipped her phone into his pocket before she could protest. (Y/n) stammered, a flicker of worry crossing her face. "I can't just ignore them. I need to respond." Darren shook his head, his gaze holding hers. "No, what you need right now is a break. Relax, unwind. This place is huge, explore it. Let's take advantage of that." (Y/n)'s eyes darted between the room key and Darren, a war raging within her. Responsibility versus escape. Finally, with a frustrated sigh, she blurted, "Screw it." She thrust the key at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Darren's face broke into a relieved grin. "That's the spirit!" He took the key, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So," he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "ever heard of salvia?" (Y/n) cocked her head, intrigued despite herself. "Salvia? What's that?" He chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Oh, this is going to be interesting," he murmured, his hand reaching for hers.

[anonymousewrites]

Adolescent Antichrist Pride Special 2023

Father Figure! Lucifer x Teen! Reader

            “Alright, so you understand your assignments?” asked Lucifer, pacing up and down the living room like a drill sergeant.

            Em nodded. “Kill homophobes and transphobes.”

            “Well, maybe not kill,” amended Lucifer. “But definitely frighten.”

            Maze smirked. “I’m going to terrify them out of their little minds.”

            Lucifer grinned in satisfaction. “Excellent. This pride will be one to remember.” He wore a simpler button-up than he usually did. He was still dressed to the nines, but his button-up had a stitch of a rainbow and a heart with bisexual flag colors on it.

            “I’m going to kiss a lot of women and men,” said Maze eagerly, smirking at the idea of a bunch of humans fawning over her. She was wearing her usually alternative style with leather and chains, but she also attached a small decoration to her chain belt, a little clip with a pansexual skull on it.

            Em, wearing a she/they pronoun pin and a lesbian flag tied to their back, rolled their eyes at Maze’s antics. “I’m just looking forward to the music. Human music is pretty good.”

            “Lady Gaga?” asked Lucifer.

            Em nodded in confirmation. “Obviously.”

            “What about Lady Gaga?” asked (Y/N), walking out of their room. They had on purple overalls, a white and black striped shirt, and yellow sunglasses—the nonbinary flag.

            “She’s one of the best mortal musicians,” said Em.

            Lucifer grinned at the outfit (Y/N) was wearing. “I knew you’d like my choices!”

            (Y/N) rolled their eyes affectionately. “You knew I’d like something because you bought me like a hundred pieces of pride merchandise.”

            Lucifer shrugged innocently. “I had to make sure you had something to wear.”

            (Y/N) snorted. “I have enough pride outfits to last me the entire year at this point.”

            “Well, we should be proud of who we are every single day!” declared Lucifer. “That’s why Lux is kept safe for lgbtq+ people.”

            “Homophobes get chucked to the curb,” said Maze proudly.

            “And any homophobes or transphobes at Pride this year are getting thrown to the curb,” said Lucifer excitedly. “Now, let’s go!”

l

            (Y/N) grinned as the different parade floats went by. Lucifer had, of course, been invited onto them by many eager men and women, but he declined to stay with (Y/N). They weren’t making it easy, though, since they were running around any chance they got to get food or see different people’s dance moves. Lucifer’s solution was to have Em run after them.

            “(Y/N), you have got to stop disappearing,” said Em as they caught up to (Y/N) again.

            “Stop me, then,” retorted (Y/N), finishing the soda they had just bought.

            Em huffed. “You don’t give me a chance before you run off to do something else.”

            (Y/N) recycled their can and considered. “Then I should bring you with me?”

            Em crossed her arms. “Just make sure to keep in my line of sight,” they grumbled.

            (Y/N) grinned. “Okay.” They reached out and grabbed Em’s hand. “Let’s go.”

            Em turned red. “Uh, Birdie?” They didn’t resist as (Y/N) pulled them over to a side attraction where music was playing.

            “You were the one who wanted to stick by me,” said (Y/N). They turned back to Em. “So you’re either gonna dance with me or leave me alone.”

            “I’ll dance,” said Em.

            “Great!” said (Y/N), pulling Em into the group dancing.

            Their hands were still entwined as (Y/N) and Em began dancing. At first, Em was awkward, unsure of herself. (Y/N) seemed to be much more comfortable among the humans. But, slowly, (Y/N)’s smile seemed to infect Em. She began to sway with them, feel the music, become comfortably. In a moment, they had a smile as wide as (Y/N)’s and were happily dancing with them. (Y/N) laughed and let Em spin them out and back in.

            Em paused for a moment and swallowed. (Y/N) had always been fun to tease, their reactions amusing, but she had to admit that she liked (Y/N)’s smile more.

l

            “My feet are gonna be sore tomorrow,” groaned (Y/N) as they lay out on the coach back at the penthouse. They had enjoyed themself immensely at pride, their first ever, but they were exhausted after all the dancing, music, food, and walking. Still, they wouldn’t trade it for anything.

            Lucifer smiled as he sat down by them. “I’m glad you had fun.”

            “I did. Thank you for taking me,” said (Y/N).

            “Well, I couldn’t not be proud of you,” said Lucifer as if it was obvious.

            (Y/N) paused and shifted awkwardly. “It still means a lot to me.” They sat up and looked down. “I mean, my parents weren’t that supportive. They wanted me to be the kid they wanted. I just…I’m really glad to have you.”

            Lucifer reached out and hugged them. “I’m glad to have you. And I will always be here to support you.”

            (Y/N) smiled and hugged him back. “Thank you.” I love you, Lucifer. Thank you for everything.

            Lucifer held them tightly. “Of course.” Anything for you. You’re my kid. I love you.

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