#only you're also rotating a tree in your mind or whatever

[krawdad]

The secret to making art that feels real is to go out and look at some real stuff and figure out what makes it look real

[bi-demon-ium]

AO3 Tag Game!

Tagged by @mvshortcut :) I did it here as well but now I'm doing it for this fandom/account bc I CAN (a lot of this will be directly copy/pasted if applicable im sowwy)

How many works do you have on AO3?

116. (Including snippet collections.) For this fandom/account. Far more if you count others,

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Okay this one it won't let me separate by pseud or fandom so you're just gonna have to live with being lumped in with all my MBS and a few other misc fics at "653,461". Didn't get the other accounts though. Man, I'm a mess

How many fandoms have you written for, and what are they?

Okay, well, this one by nature is also not solely for this fandom,

(number in parentheses is number of ao3 works posted)

The Mysterious Benedict Society (116) (including snippet collections)

Ted Lasso (44) (also including snippet collections)

Instinct (2) (one is a small snippet collection--)

House MD (1)

Death by Dying (1)

Gravity Falls, technically, but it was one crossover (1)

ditto with The Legend of Zelda (1)

King Falls AM (1)

The House in the Cerulean Sea (6)

Shadowhunters (??? at least 36) (some now hidden/lost)

Professor Layton (1)

The Librarians (2)

The Sandman (1)

The Mentalist (2)

Star Trek (AOS) (1)

Sanders Sides (at least 1)

Miraculous Ladybug (1)

Rosewell: New Mexico (2)

The Dresden Files (1)

That's stuff posted to ao3/finished. There's also, technically,

for stuff I published when I was twelve and I now refuse to acknowledge (not all bc of the fandom but bc the fic was Bad):

Doctor Who

Supernatural

Sherlock

Psych

Castle

Welcome to Night Vale

Avengers

A Series of Unfortunate Events

And then stuff I've written for but never finished:

Warehouse 13

Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (2016)

Dirk Gently (2010)

SurrealEstate

Zoo (podcast)

Once Upon a Time

Scooby Doo

Person of Interest

The Goes Wrong Show

Spy Kids (???)

Ace Attorney

The Adventure Zone

Criminal Minds

Star Trek (TOS, TNG, and DS9)

Haven

MacGyver

Trollhunters

exactly one (1) joke The Magnus Archives fic

Percy Jackson and the Olympians + The Kane Chronicles + Tales of Apollo

Leverage

Pushing Daisies

The Sarah Jane Adventures

Megamind

Bones

Avatar: the Last Airbender

Lucifer

Some of these are deeply questionable and/or only have like two (2) wips or even posted works at most, but I'm thorough. Also, I will write about almost anything bc my brain loves to process things like this. I may have even missed something

Top five fics by kudos:

I was gonna have the snippets collections not count but I've got so many exact ties it doesn't matter.

gemini schmemini (136)

kate and her bucket sitting in a tree, S-P-Y-I-N-G (98)

caught (81)

[insert poetic title here] (81)

affectionate gestures<3 (81)

of rube goldbergs and weather machines (74)

tumblr snippets: mbs edition (74)

keeping out the cold (70)

birdsong (70)

Number Two Regrets Her Life Choices™ (68)

timeline? i don't know her (68)

That's actually 6 bc I made a mistake but I've already color coded them so whatever

Do you respond to comments?

I really try to, but then I get all in my head about it and/or am really really tired and put it off so long it then feels like it would be weird to respond because it's been forever. However, if there's a direct question or something I want to address/respond to, as in, I have something particularly unique to say or a question to answer, then I'll usually respond really fast.

And this fandom's smaller so if I'm slightly more likely to respond 😭

Also when I know who's commenting personally which is al ot more likely

What’s the fic with the angstiest ending you’ve ever written?

Honestly, I'm not a huge unhappy ending person, but. uhhh

solo

bring me home (in a blinding dream)

hollowed

seasalt

checkmate

dark side of the moon

wretched clarity

cruel kindness

green-eyed monster

the naming of cats

curled & crushed

oops

I didn't even look at the snippet collections lkgfhjh

Do you write crossovers?

Not often, but I rotate them in my brain. Honestly, though, I'm more inclined to write a fusion than a crossover proper. And even so, I tend to just be thinking about it rather than actually writing it. I've only written one crossover in recent memory (recently, that is) and it was mostly a joke about a shared actress made into actual angst. :)

Have you ever gotten hate on a fic?

Yeah lmao

Do you write smut?

😏 ......not for this fandom. That I'd post anyway

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

👁️👁️ not. Directly in this fandom

Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes!! also not in this fandom

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

In this fandom? Nicholas/Milligan. Overall, ever? Recency bias/hyperfixationitis says whatever I'm into the most at the moment. But generally for MBS I prefer gen (although I've written a lot of Nicholas/Milligan, that's partially because it's blissfully easier to find gen already)

What’s a WIP that you want to finish, but don’t think you ever will?

:(

SO many

Particularly minotaur, the dearly departed, and the "paralyzed" series. Oh and the hanahaki AU

What are your writing strengths?

I think I can write a really funny string of dialogue, and I'm also fond of fun metaphors, both in the elegant poetic way and in the more Douglas Adams/Terry Pratchett way (which is to say, still potentially elegant but also comedic as hell)

What are your writing weaknesses?

Motivating myself to write anything; being overly self-indulgent

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fics?

I'm extremely bad at linguistics in general, so if I must include someone talking in another language in my fic, I think I'd tend to cheat and do italics or some other indication that this is 'in another language' (ie "Where are you going?" she asked in Russian), but that's admittedly a lazy approach. But I also think it's probably better than butchering it with an auto-translator? Also, when people just include the translation in the end notes, even with a link (although that makes it marginally better) it breaks the flow of the story and makes it hard to read. Making an effort to at least match grammar is good (which I would do if it was for longer than a single scene, probably) but I think the best solution is when people know what they're doing and like, have an actual translation with a little html code so you can click on it and it reveals what it means? Or if you're clever, revealing what it means using context around it, but that has its own limitations. So that both like, uses the actual language and doesn't break up the flow. It balances accessibility, flow, and respect for the other language in question well. But you've got to both know what you're doing with the language (either asking someone/hiring someone/knowing the language yourself) and the html (although there are guides for that you'd have to spend time figuring it out + know it exists in the first place to look). And this is fanfiction, something we ultimately do for free in our spare time, so the lazy approach, I think, can be understandable. Maybe not in every context, but it's not worth stressing a lot over in a few random lines or anything, you know? It is really cool when people do know a language well enough to include it properly in a fic, though, it can say a lot about a character or dynamic; and their background(s) and like. it's neat :)

What was the first fandom you ever wrote for?

Ever? Doctor Who. In a shitty little notebook in middle school. Then there was some Star Trek (both TNG and TOS) and Avatar: the Last Airbender and Marvel and such, and then Supernatural (my first smut? extremely terrible Destiel smut. rip) and I think the first thing I ever posted was Welcome to Night Vale? Not sure.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written so far?

Oh, man. I have no idea. Here's a few favorites from this fandom:

cain's lament

minotaur

shades of green

a hope in hell

Number Two Regrets Her Life Choices™

tagging:

PLEASE, if you want to do this, I'm begging you, tag me in it and do it. i'm too tired to come up with names im so sorry

[undead-merman]

I can't find the one where mc finds a harpy egg and takes it back to the brothers to raise (also harpies) can you link it for me? Thx

So the original post the asker no longer has their age in their bio so I want to delete the ask and post it here.

Poly harpy brothers with an abandoned egg GN-Reader SFW

Finding the egg

You have been on a walk through the tall mountain that you've called home for a long time now, and you decided to take a longer walk than normal. You head off the beaten path to a new patch of trees and cliffsides. You nearly trip after a big step down and tumble off the cliff when you grab a hanging root and pull yourself up. 

You find a nest and it's barely even held together. The twigs and moss are ripped and broken, and a few eggs that sit inside are broken. Most likely, eaten by something. You are glad that whatever it is did leave one tiny egg. 

It looked way too sad. You couldn't just leave it there, even if the brothers were the only ones allowed on this mountain top. You scooped it up and held it close and you made sure to go back carefully. 

When you get back, everyone is still out, so you make your way to the family nest and sit next to it and try to warm it up. 

When they came back and saw the egg, they all bickered and squawked over whose egg it was. When you reminded them that you're a human and told them how you found it and wanted to take care of it. 

Satan told you it was likely the egg wouldn't hatch if it had been alone for too long and Lucifer agreed, but taking a look at it, sure enough it was a healthy egg. 

Asmodeus was a bit uncomfortable with the idea, but if you wanted to take care of it he couldn't stop you. He couldn't think of an alternative anyway. He couldn't leave an egg all by himself. 

Mammon hated the idea. He tried to see if he could pawn it on someone else, but when you gave him those big eyes he grumbled and kicked his talons around before curling his wing around you both. 

Leviathan was scared, not exactly sure if he was responsible enough to help, let alone be around it without something going wrong. But you looked so happy. He couldn't take that happiness away. 

Satan was interested in it. He wanted to see if it would act like a human when you raised it. He was also intrigued by the egg shape and color. He'd never seen an egg like that and was interested in the type of harpy that might hatch from it. 

Lucifer didn't care either way. Just as long as you take care of it. If you couldn't, he'd find someone who could. It's a big decision. You better be ready for it. 

Beelzebub was quite excited about the idea of making their family a bit bigger. His feathers puffed up as soon as he saw you with it, and now that everyone has agreed he's already thinking of names for it. 

Belphegor didn't think too much of it but was happy he now had an excuse to sleep more. Warm an egg? No problem. And if it was with you that's even better. 

Taking care of it

Some of them have helped rear eggs before. Beelzebub being the main one, with Lucifer right behind him. It's been a very long time so the process takes a while to get back into. 

They take shifts watching over the egg with you. And with you being human they have to do most of the work. 

Lucifer just has it sit in your lap as he wraps his wings around you to keep you both warm. He reminds you every once in a while to rotate the egg gently. 

Mammon begrudgingly sits with it, grumbling about how he doesn't want to do this and how embarrassing it is. You can shut him up with a kiss or even call it Little Mammon for a bit and he gets attached. Maybe even to a point where he tries to take it from the others. 

Leviathan tries his hardest to help, but with how small it is, he's convinced he's going to somehow fall over and turn it Sunny Side up. He has you hold it and wraps you both up as he fixes the nest more than warms the egg. Yes, he's excited to see it, but how will he cope? You look too adorable right now. 

Satan didn't mind his duties. He took them rather seriously. He'd have it in his lap as he read and even had you sit next to him as he did it. He used the old candling technique to make sure it was developing correctly and even praised you for how well you're doing. 

Asmodeus is fawning over you, his wings flapping as he gets a good look at you. Oh you're just so adorable with an egg sitting all pretty in the nest. It's a shame you could make more with him, but one is fine for now. He cuddles up with you and keeps the egg nice and tucked between you. It's hard to imagine he's ever had a problem with it before. Now he's polishing the shell and kissing it. 

Beelzebub is brimming with excitement as he takes his turn. He ends up bringing back more food than he needs to, claiming it's for the chick. He sits with you. The egg in your lap and you are in his lap as you both hold each other. He makes sure to keep it clean and even gets a bit broody. He'll slap away his brothers if they are being too troublesome around it and finds comfort when he's around it. 

Belphegor doesn't change much. He seeks it out only so he can nap with the both of you. Tucked next to him as his wing covers it and holds you close to his chest. 

When they are all together, they leave a space for you and the egg, and for the first time since you've known them, they don't toss and turn. They lay perfectly still. 

Hatching 

When you're holding it, you can feel it wiggle and even a small cheap from inside, and when the others hear they all flock to you. 

The tiny egg hatches, and it's unlike any other harpy they've seen. They’ve never seen one with such an interesting pattern. It must be from a different land. It falls right on you and when it opens its eyes, it just cuddles up to you. Some of them are jealous but the others smack them for being ridiculous. 

The chick is perky and ready to run after a few days, and it follows you everywhere. It never leaves your side and the way it runs is almost comical with how it tries to flap its tiny underdeveloped wings to keep up. 

Your family grew a little. And while it's hard to adjust it seems like everything is moving along well and everyone seems to be happy.

[wastelesscrafts]

I have a gardening tip for your followers! I love to garden but it is so expensive to get started. I repurpose old boxes and disposable/fast food cups as planters (just poke holes in the bottom for drainage and set them on top of a towel) and I made a small watering can out of a bottle with holes poked in the top. It works great because I don't need a massive watering can in my apartment. Gardening at home can be super cheap and easy!

[ID: a cardboard box that has been turned into a planter containing soil and seedlings. A plastic water bottle stands beside it and has holes poked in the top to serve as a watering can.]

Gardening and makeshift planters

Thank you for the tip! Gardening can seem quite daunting if you've never done it before, so asks like these are nice ways to show people it doesn't have to be all that complicated.

I wholeheartedly support DIY containers! Is that a cardboard box in your picture? Doesn't it get soggy? Or did you put in some kind of lining? Love your bottle watering can!

Gardening options:

Most people imagine a vegetable plot with annual plants and crop rotations when they think about gardening. This type of garden definitely has its merits, but it's not the only option. A garden can be as complex or as simple and as big or as small as you choose to make it.

[ID: a white bowl filled with small woodland strawberries. The bowl sits on a gray stone pathway next to a patch of wild strawberry plants.]

Backyard:

If you've got the luxury of having a garden in which you can do whatever you want without landlords watching over your shoulder, you're super lucky! There's so much good you could do!

Your garden can be a massive boon to your local biodiversity and wildlife. Even just planting native wildflowers or adding some wildlife garden elements will help. Make sure to look up local resources when planning a garden like this!

Your garden can also help to make your surroundings more comfortable. For example, trees and bushes will cool down their surroundings and can improve air quality. Gardening can even be used as a tool for carbon sequestration. And who doesn't like watching flowers bloom?

You could also try your hand at growing your own food. You could start a plot with kitchen herbs, grow a few vegetables or edible flowers, put in a few fruit bushes, and trade excesses with friends. Don't be fooled by Pinterest though, your chances of being able to live off your own produce are minimal.

Combine these different functions, if you can. For example: I've planted a wild strawberry patch in my garden. It functions as a ground cover and keeps my soil moist, provides me with the occasional snack, offers pollen to bees, and whatever berries I don't pick serve as food for the wildlife in my garden.

Keep things safe and easy:

Start out small! Don't get overwhelmed.

Figure out how much sun your plot gets before planting anything.

Use perennial plants instead of annuals if you have limited energy.

Trade seeds and seedlings with fellow gardeners, or learn how to propagate plants to keep costs down.

Look into lasagna gardening if you're unable to dig, or raised beds if you struggle with mobility.

Mulch your plots to save on water and weeding time.

Use localised information when planning your garden.

Avoid pesticides, especially if you plan to eat what you're growing.

Get your tetanus shots up to date, watch out for ticks, leave wild animals alone, and be careful if you have allergies.

Don't eat plants unless you're a 110% certain of what they are. Foraging can be fun, but you really don't want to mistake lilly of the valley for wild garlic.

Be mindful of your neighbours and housemates. Living near an allergen sucks, and certain plants can be dangerous to small children and pets.

Mint. Don't do it. It's a trap. It'll take over both your garden and your nightmares. Put it in a container if you really want to grow some.

If you've got a lot of space, you could look into permaculture or agroforestry.

Community plot:

Don't have a yard? Check if your neighbourhood has a community garden, or start one yourself. Shared gardens are a great way to get to know your neighbours.

Container garden:

If you don't have a lot of space, you could try container gardening. You can use pretty much anything to grow plants in as long as it's water tight, non-toxic, has drainage holes at the bottom, and is large enough for the type of plant you want to put in it. If you lack surface space, vertical gardens are also an option.

Note that container plants need more frequent watering and rely on you for nutrients.

The size of your garden project won't effect just how meaningful it can be. A native plant on a balcony can be an important spot for local birds or butterflies. The flowers in your vertical wall garden might be the only available pollen source in your neighbourhood. That potted basil on your window sill will give you a well-deserved sense of pride over keeping it alive every time you pick a few leaves for your pasta.

[mypersonmyg]

cherry blossom | jjk

pairing: jeongguk x reader

genre: fluff

rating: pg15

wc: 2k (yes it is a drabble shut up)

warnings: swearing

summary: spring is blooming and so are you OR he loves the beanie you knitted for his round ass head

a/n: hello, hi, hey...is this good? idk, but i wrote it because im trying to do that again; this is based on the tebori tapioca couple because i really like them a lot...ALSO i said i would write about beanie boy and here he is :D

tebori tapioca

masterlist

Petals dipped in white are decorated in the jagged pink crawling from the root of thin strengthened stems fluttering like wisps from trees freshly bloomed to kiss at your cheeks, tilted upward toward a sky painted in streaks of voluminous clouds. You lift one hand to trace the expanse of day, finger a brush concentrated on the perfect mural, eyes zeroed to see the work of the blue plained aerial. You grasp a stray petal mid-air, charting the exposure of edges fragile and torn from the efflorescent cherry blossom, its trunk the perfect home for the boy whose head appears anywhere but the moment. 

You bring the petal to trace his cheeks seeking the protrusion of his nose, effectively startling the stupor that held him captive. His eyes dance the length of your arm up to your collar, landing on your own gaze in wonder, always amazed by  feelings that engulf him like licking flames. He tilts his head until the warmth of his cheek rests in the palm of your hand, cradling perfection and its questioning peep. 

“Sorry,” You murmur, thumb soothing circles into pliable skin, eyes doubled in apology despite the fondness stretching the muscles of his face, tugging at the edges of his lids. 

“Don’t be,” He hushes plucking the petal, blowing it into the subtle breeze that kicks at the skin of your ankles, traveling the length of your leg, ignorant to the tingle that already resides from the steady grip of a tattooed hand tracing the skin exposed from the ride up of your hoodie. “We came here to be together and I’m zoning out.”

You crook your arm into the grass, still damp from the press of morning dew, petals sticking to your palm as you push forward, Jeongguk cautiously tightening at your waist. The hand that still rests against his cheek sneakily climbs to tendrils peeking from beneath the beanie dressing his head, black knitted and all consuming, wrapping the strands of curls between nimble fingers and urging him to press his lips to your own. 

“I don’t mind, I’d rather sit with you in complete silence than listen to Jimin complain about whatever it is he was complaining about today.” You speak after the first heady press, foreheads gathered in collective rest, lashes just missing with each flutter. You can barely recall the words tumbling forward, but you can count on the attentive nature of your chosen lover to keep you on track, his eyes never missing the beat of your quivering lips. 

“Hmm, but i wanna give you all of my attention.” He pulls you so you’re falling, forcing you onto his lap of denim, your arms finding rest around his broad shoulders. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, bringing light to the fabric engulfing his head of curls. 

It’s a recent niche, the adornment of the extra layer, a gift from you meant to reside on the side of winter wardrobe. It dresses him well, mirror selfies and dates spent walking the string lit streets of your cozy strip not without the attention of head-on-a-swivel passersby. You don’t mind the look or the attention that you believe present without the added statement, but you often miss the ease of a hand through thick curls and the added volume on humid occasions. 

“Now who’s zoning?” Jeongguk teases, nudging the underside of your chin, fingers retreating to avoid your gentle nip. 

“I was just thinking about you,” Your words are spoken with lips folding inward to rest between the set of your teeth, hands tugging at the top of his hat, almost pulling it free before he swats at your offending limb tugging it back into place. 

“Oh yeah?” You arch into him when a sudden gust of wind wraps around your bodies, biting at your arms left exposed by your insistence of warmth from the saturation of rays that swallow you whole, only missing direct contact by Jeongguk’s insistence that you seek refuge in the crowding branches of the beautiful earthy growth of the ascending blossom. 

“Yeah, you and your beanie. Why won’t you let me see your cute ass head, you nerd?” 

“Excuse me? I like the beanie, it was a gift you know.” 

He’s proud of his counter, head resting against the trunk of the tree before he’s suddenly guiding you from his lap to join in the jump to his feet. You’re like jello, too long spent lounging in the thick of your bubbled comfort, nearly knocking into him out of the habit of proximity and lack of control over your physical being. 

“Not only was it a gift,” He continues, clasping your hands, swinging it between you as you once more find the path riddled with abandoned flowers and the remnants of blades from grass freshly mowed, the smell still lingering with each foot forward. He brings your connected palms to press to his lips, holding them in place for a momentary hum before your nerves are tingling under the sensation and you're trying your hardest to pull away amidst  squealish giggling. “It was handmade.” 

You stutter, feet catching at the tip, threatening to eat concrete were it not for the quick reflexes and unbridled strength of Jeongguk’s arms. He drags you from the center of the path, the resounding tinkering of a child’s bike bell screaming to make way for the train of tasseled training wheels that are suddenly on your trail. It gives you time to recompose, Jeongguk far too busy waving in kind at each passing darling regarding him with various poked tongues and toothy grins. 

“Babe, you good?” He finally returns his attention, the rough pad of his thumb coming to swipe at the hairs that fall from the folded lip of the beanie, tickling at the plains of his forehead that hold just enough sheen from the day's heat to allow the dense fibers to stick to his skin. You fight the temptation to replace his hand with your own, always happy to feel him beneath you, feening for the closeness of closed doors and your head tucked beneath his chin, fingers tracing the ever defining muscles that tease through his t-shirt. 

“I’m fine...I just didn’t realize you noticed.” You shield yourself in the thick of his hoodie, tugging the sleeve to hide your eyes from his prying gaze and infectious grin. You question your own sanity when the remembrance of his attentive nature and the dreamy sigh he’d emitted upon the first snug of the thick fabric to his skull, only compliments spewing thereafter. 

“That I noticed...?” You’re dim witted to the point of ignorance, though his bait works as your face slowly unsticks from the dark material eating his chest, replacing your face with the wrap of your knuckles and the avoidance of eye contact in favor of tracking a peculiar worm inching toward fresh dirt. 

“Koo…” You whine, the nickname and high pitched yearning a new habit Jeongguk has taken in kind. His adoration for you only grows more with each day, your habits taking hold of him like the magnet that you are, an attraction unyielding and all consuming. Some would say that it’s a sickness, but the rapid pump of his love organ and the coos that ooz from him with the precision of a clock at your every utterance feels wholesome.

You’re home, a refuge after long days of piping tea and pounds of tapioca, waist deep in the give and take of the service industry. The only being that makes him feel like giving his all is no effort wasted, always looking for more ways to please even with your assurance that just  halfway makes your heart soar into a galaxy of his own making. 

So he grips you tight and reels you in, inhaling the scent of the light shampoo that laces your scalp and pretends that your whines are only an amusement, a reason for the further push of his pestering. His hands trace the peak of your shoulder blades, easing them of the tension from your bout of shyness. 

“Love, why wouldn’t I notice? Why do you think I love to wear it so much?” 

“Because you’re perfect,” You melt, shuffling on the balls of your feet, hands shoved into his pockets to hold steady in a world constantly rotating around you, dressed in whites and pinks, the songs of birds humming in the trees that arch above you. “But seriously, how did you know? I didn’t say anything because I don’t think it’s very good and I almost didn’t even give it to you because—”

“It’s perfect.” He cuts your words with his own followed by a kiss, much longer than the one previous, your face heating under the awareness that you’re no longer shielded by bud kissed branches in your own corner of the world. The same corner that started it all just months prior. 

Your palms rest against his chest, a gentle pat urging him to part from you despite your own inward cries of the opposite. He obliges, a smile of coyness splayed along his cheeks, pushing at the scar that kisses the apples of his skin. 

“What?” 

“I did notice an attempt at the stitching of initials under the lip...still need some practice I see—”

“Love, that’s so mean!” Your pats previously gentle now offer as much force as  you can muster, easily sending him staggering on his feet, too consumed by his own childish laughter at your rather rugged stitchwork, a poor attempt at further customization. “Ugh, I didn’t think you would notice.” 

He pulls the beanie from his head, hair falling in a mess of dark curl that traces the frame of his cheeks, somehow rounder today than the chiseled jaw that you often find ingrained in your memory. You ache to take him between your palms, a smattering of kisses stored for later use when you aren’t teetering the precipice of embarrassment. A feeling of routine self indulgence that is altogether useless under the watchful eyes of the dream before you.

He delicately dips his finger into the folded hem of the hat, lengthening the elastic trim that suctions around him to keep it secure around his head. He traces the thread that just barely makes out the letters initialling his name, imagining the formation of your lips as you repeat the two syllables with the puncture and withdraw of every stitch. 

It’s clear as the blue dyed sky, the vivid poke of your lips when you realize the curve of the ‘J’ is more of a divot than a definition but push on to the ‘K’. You only add the extra inches when your mind begins to overthink when in truth he’ll love anything from your hands, from your mind and the blood pumping through your veins. 

It wasn’t the accidental revelation of the stitching when he pulled it from the first wash that clued him in. The fabric unfurled from its position of origin, the letters staring back, accented with the perfect attempt at a heart stitched in white. 

No, he finds solace in the patch of thread missing from the edge of the shape meant to mimic the geometry of the organ itself.

It speaks true to the way he feels when he’s not with you, like his heart couldn’t possibly be whole when he’s not taking in the breathlessness of your laugh or the way you pout his name without warning. 

It was the tremor in your hands as you delivered the gift wrapped in faux gold, edges of the paper curled from the lack of a package and a mind too jumbled to think of a bag. Your delivery paired with the fumble of words hushed in rushed breath was clue enough of your attempt at discretion.

It’s in these moments, hat in hand and your eyes scrutinizing the thing when you’d told him how handsome it made him look just weeks prior. He gently pinches the scrunch of your nose, forcing your eyes to his own, hat pulled back over his head. 

He doesn’t miss the quirk of your lips, the hat no longer an object of disdain when it's a part of him. The day you met was the day that you made your place within him and it's in moments like these that he feels whole. 

“I can’t believe you thought for a second that I wouldn’t.”

[imagineabrighterworld]

A/N: I fought tooth and nail for this prompt so I hope you like it anon 👀

—

Dabi had left the Nightscape for several reasons.

For better scenery, for less screaming, for.. for a third reason, and to escape his crazy as fuck ex girlfriend who never seemed to get the point that they were done. She was a phase, she wasn’t the endgame.

Did she get that as he tossed her ass out of his apartment? No, she just came back with a lighter to set his home ablaze. But the woman didn't realize he controlled flames as easily as he did breathing.

So he left. He packed a few things, clothes and whatever currency the humans were using nowadays and went up to the world beyond. His father was one of the lords of the Nightscape, but he didn't need to worry about slipping past him, Dabi was thought to be dead for ages.

More like “Touya” had been dead for ages, but that was a clusterfuck of different issues he didn't care to unfold.

Living above ground had added perks beyond escaping a crazy ex and not being surrounded by shades and wraiths on the daily. He could take on the form of a true human, not the horned and fanged form he usually wore. His tail was gone, and his scars and staples were replaced with tattoos and piercings, but he grew used to his new form very quickly.

In the human world, humans had long since developed quirks, so his flames were not an oddity. He was thankful for them when he was questioned about how he got his scars, scars that would occasionally show through his glamour. It was an easy answer, his body couldn't handle his “quirk”. People gave him sad eyes and let him go.

Easy.

What he did struggle with was the occasional demon hunter nearly tracking him down, but he always managed to turn their eye the other way. Was it testing the line choosing to live so close to a school that trained demon hunters? Yes, but he was always good at magic, a simple glamour always did the trick.

When he scored a job at a coffee shop, he was pleased to see it was a simple transaction kind of job. No one would be able to ask him why his eyes were constantly rivaling the blue of his flames or why a phantom tail would lash out and occasionally spill the row of cups behind him.

He pegged it as a ghost haunting the shop, and so it became a little inside joke within the workers ranks and some of the shop's patrons.

Opening on a rainy Wednesday, he looks around the room before lighting the candles at the tables with a flame on his pinkie finger. Setting up the tables and scooting in the chairs, he walks back to the counter and sets up the machines when the door rings, signalling someone had entered.

“Welcome.” He rolls out in a soft purr, a habit from years of toying with his playthings as an incubus. Eventually he would get rid of the habit. “What can I get for you today?” He turns around.

You were soaking wet with a satchel above your head, you were shivering and looking at the coffee machines as if they were god sent.

You looked adorable.

He leans on the counter with a growing smile. “Wet out there isn't it?”

Your gaze snaps to him. Your eyes were a soft mahogany color, reminding him of a tree. It wasn't the most romantic thing he could come up with, but trees were also very rare to find in the Nightscape, so he supposed it was based on your point of view. “C-Coffee. Please.”

“Sure thing babe, what kind?”

“A mocha cappuccino with three shots of espresso.”

He quirks a brow as he types in your order. “Three?”

“I usually get five but my doctor told me I need to cut down.”

“How about you aim for two?”

“I don't think I’d survive that loss sir.”

He chuckles. “Sir?” He asks as he tells you the price of your drink, accepting your soggy wad of cash and giving you your change once the transaction was complete. “Well madam, your drink will be out shortly, take some napkins to dry up, they’re by the sugar.”

He spots a small blush on your face as you go to the condiments counter. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” He prepares your drink as he hears you pluck a plethora of napkins out of their container. Small curses are all he hears as you open your bag, he hears the clicking of latches and the zipping of zippers. You scuttle past the counter and stop in front of the register again.

“Do you have a bathroom? My bag is drenched..”

He brings you your drink and tilts his head as he debates your question. A bathroom wouldn't solve the water issue, you just thought it would.

Dabi places your drink on the counter and holds his hand out. “I can dry your bag.”

You smile, adjusting your glasses in the mean time. “You have a wind quirk?”

“I'm not a blowdryer.” He grins. “But I can still dry it for you.”

You debate his words, looking down at your soggy satchel that was only getting worse as time passed. You hand him the bag with an accepting sigh. “Please.”

He takes your bag and lights his hands on fire. You nearly scream before he speaks up. “I can control my fire, this one won’t burn anything, it's just warm.”

“Oh.” You shut your mouth with a sheepish bow of your head. “Sorry.”

“It's alright.” He turns the bag in his hold, looking at the patches and bad attempts at embroidery on its edges. It was cute. The sad little attempts seemed to get better as they reached the top, which led him to believe this was your first attempt at embroidery.

What would you do if he had burnt it to ash?

His flames were highly destructive, and sometimes even he couldn't handle them.

Maybe he was being risky to test his powers like this. It had been ages since he last used his flames for something more than lighting a silly candle or a cigarette.

“So..”

Oh right, you were still there.

He looks at you and rotates the bag in his hold. “Yes?”

“Is it always this empty?”

“Only when you're here.” He winks.

“Rude.”

“Rude, sir.”

You laugh, and from that point on he's hooked to the sound.

-

Dabi used to like his job, now it was turning into something akin to gratitude. It allowed him to see you on most days.

He had learned quite a few things about you ever since that rainy day.

You were a teacher in training, specifically the nearby high school. You were aiming for Shiketsu and had a foot in the door with the vice principal taking notice of you during their mock trials. He didn't peg you for a demon hunter, but everyone had a hidden side to them. Hah. You had two pet birds named Sweet Pea and Darlington, you had a snake named Petra and were looking into getting a newt.

You loved coffee but hated it black, it needed sugar or chocolate of some kind because you couldn't stand bitter food. You loved spicy food even if you couldn't tolerate it, and you adored sour candies.

While you looked book smart, you were also street smart, and he was beginning to believe you might be vying for a spot as a demon slayer teacher. He just didn't know what your quirk was yet.

“Hey Dabi.” You chime in unison with the doorbell as you walk inside, this time with an umbrella to keep yourself out of the rain.

He leans on the counter with a grin. “Hey babe. What is it today? The usual?”

“Just a shot of espresso this time.”

He narrows his eyes. “Are you sick?”

“Nope.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking back and forth on your heels with a huge smile on your face. “I got news.”

“Do tell.” He says as he starts preparing your shot.

“I got the job!” You squeal in excitement, arms coming out of hiding so you can clasp them in front of you. “Starting in the spring I’m going to be the new first year homeroom teacher!”

He genuinely smiles. So you wanted to ruin your happiness with a shot of liquid bitter? He didn't understand you sometimes.  “I thought your celebration drink would be a sakura latte, not a shot of espresso.”

You wave your hand dismissively, already removing your wallet from your pocket. “I'll come back for one.”

“Two visits in one day? Is that a gift for you or for me?” He chuckles and hands you your espresso, taking your yen and entering it into the register.

You adjust the glasses on your face. "I figured I would grace your presence because you've been so humble as to fuel my caffeine addiction."

"It's my duty to make sure you don't kill some other sorry bastard with a coffee maker."

Your eyes flash green for a split second, and in that moment he has to keep from reeling back. Did he really see that?

The cups behind him tumble to the ground.

His tail had appeared in his brief moment of shock.  

You cock your head to the side. "What happened?"

He kneels and collects the cups. "The shop's ghost. Don't mind it."

"I thought I saw a-"

"How about I give you the latte now? On me." He interrupts you mid sentence, standing up with the cups in his arms.

The blush on your face was one of his favorite sights in the human world.

"You don't have to Dabi."

"It's just a drink." He waves you along to one of the booths. "Sit, it'll be ready soon."

You take your shot of espresso and go to the booth he had motioned you to.

The way you scrunched your nose in disgust as you drank your shot was also one of his new favorite sights.

Maybe it was just you.

--

After you had gotten your job at Shiketsu, you were around every morning to prepare for the day. Sometimes you would come by for lunch, unfortunately he clocked out on those days, but sometimes he would make sure he was in the area just to catch you off-guard. Those days he spent his lunch with you, and you got to tell him stories about your students.

It was one of your lunch breaks when hell came to toll.

His eyes were trained on you as you spoke, you were talking about a girl who wielded fire similar to him when the bell of the cafe rang.

The sound resonated through him, and in that moment he knew who was at the door.

What was at the door.

His glamour of his new human form nearly drops as he hears a woman's voice ask from the counter of the cafe.

“Is Dabi here?” She croons in a sickly sweet voice he hadn't heard in nearly a year. He doesn't hear his coworkers' response but he feels the air fill with the flowery scent of her. He grits his teeth to keep his fangs from showing through as he hears her heels click against the ground.

You had stopped your explanation and looked behind him, adjusting your glasses as you did so. “You're looking for Dabi?”

“I am, what a sweet peach you've got here Dabi~ I didn't know you still had it in you to snag such a cutie, your charms must still be working even in this sad form.” He feels her hand on his shoulder, her fingernails drumming along the stitching of his jacket. “Did you catch her, or did she come crawling to you?”

He knows he has to speak up, before she says another word, but his fangs were already piercing the inside of his lip as his glamour slipped.

He looks at you with the most apologetic gaze he can muster. Grabbing his coffee, he lifts it to his mouth to hide his fangs and he speaks. “Excuse me.” He stands up and slams the cup on the table, grabbing the wrist of the woman behind him and dragging her out of the shop and into the closest alleyway.

He slams her against the wall with her arm pinned above her head. His glamour drops completely, his scars and horns bared for the world to see as he growls with rage. “You!”

The succubus in front of him smiles coyly, dragging a finger across his scars and the staples holding his mouth together. “Aren't you happy to see me? To see one of your own again?”

“No. What do you want?”

She plays at pulling on one of the staples but is stopped as he pins her other hand up as well. The succubus sighs and turns her head, “I come see you and all I get is this. And seeing you with a little human.” She peers at him with violet eyes. “Don't tell me you've gone soft Dabi. She’s human, she’ll die just like a human too.”

He hadn't let that thought slip into his mind and wasn't planning on starting to. He tightens his grip on her wrists. “We broke up, I made that clear.” A feral grin forms on his face, pulling at the staples on his face. “I told you, if you try me again, I’ll kill you.”

“I heard you had a human now. We all heard.” She whispers, her eyes glowing in the dark of the alley. “They know Dabi.”

His grip falters.

Shit.

Shit. Shit Shit-

He lets go of her wrists and he paces in the alleyway, flames licking at his face as his emotions spiralled.

“They need your power, but you’re squandering it here with a girl who will die before you know it. While you're full of youth, she will be an old crone with nothing but a coffin awaiting her.” She didn't sound bothered at all as she rubs her wrists. “Honestly Dabi, you were the one that taught me never to fall for a human. They’re too brittle, their life essence too weak.”

He did teach her. He taught her to keep her heart shut and to leave it open only for him. He taught her a little too well, as she now believed she had rights to him.

But he never taught himself as well as he did her.

He fell for you bad, and you were mortal.

“Anyway, I was told one of two things. Either bring you back with me, or expose you so you have no other choice but to return.”

He looks back at her, his rage quelled only by the dread that was now spiralling in him. “You will do no such thing!” He roars, his flames igniting and setting him ablaze. “If you dare go near her-”

The succubus’s body transforms into mist starting from her feet then rising to her waist. She puts a finger to her lips. “I’ll be back in three days. If you don't do it, I will.”

She was gone. Leaving him alone in the alley with nothing but flames that wouldn't stop burning.

-

Dabi spent the next two days trying to find ways to tell you, but with each scenario came the same question.

What would you do if you knew he was a demon? You worked at a school that trained demon slayers- what other option for you would there be if not to turn him in? It was your duty to turn in any demon that showed up at your door, and here you were having coffee with him.

He couldn't do it.

On the third day, it was raining, just like the day he met you.

He hated the mist that had surrounded the shop, reminding him of the succubus and her promise.

Three days.

He had to tell you.

But why was it so damn hard to do? He used to be cold and calculated, having his fun toying with human emotions and killing without regret. He had no empathy, no sympathy for the lives he ruined.

But you were kind. So incredibly kind.

He rests his head on the counter as the door opens. He scents you in the air before you even step through, the smell of milk and honey wafting in the air as you approach the counter.

He had to tell you.

“Morning Dabi!” You cheer as you fold up your umbrella. “A mocha cappuccino with two shots of espresso please!”

He looks up and smiles crookedly. “Finally down to two?”

“I figured I would finally listen to you.”

“That's my girl.” He chuckles as he grabs a cup and prepares your drink. His hands were shaking, but he knew what he had to do.

When your drink was ready and paid for, Dabi keeps his hand on the cup as you take it from him, your hand overlapping his. You look at him with curious eyes behind your wide rimmed glasses. “Dabi? What’s wrong?”

“If I told you I was a bad man, what would you do?”

You narrow your eyes, but keep your hand over his. “Stealing a croissant from the place you work at isn't evil Dabi-”

“Not that.” He laughs but it's noticeably strained. “Not that.” He looks you in the eyes, greedily taking in the sight of you, for perhaps the last time. “What if I told you I was a bad man, who did horrible things. Whose caused terrible things.”

Your hand tightens around his, he feels the tremors in your body before you still.

“I would tell you I know better than to judge you for what you've done, and tell you that I judge you for who you are now. Does that forgive you of what you've done or what you've caused? No. But I judge what I see. And I see a good man.”

He lets out a shaky breath as his glamor drops, revealing his true form of scars and fangs and horns. His flames curl around him as he whispers. “What if I'm not a man?”

You jump back, hands flying to your glasses before they could tumble off of your face. You stare at him with your jaw hanging.

He looks at the coffee still in his grasp. At the scars covering his body.

He knew it.

He puts down the cup.

He knew it.

Clapping comes from the corner of the room where the succubus has taken form, her body still halfway between corporal and mist. She smiles, showing off her sharpened canines. “Bravo Dabi, I almost thought I’d have to do it myself.”

You shut your mouth and look at the succubus. “You're from before-”

“I am.” She purrs. “And I’m here to take Dabi home. Shigaraki will be happy to see his lieutenant again.”

Dabi burns away his apron, leaving him in his normal attire, the stitches of his black coat catching his eye. Memories of your embroidered bag slip through his mind, though are soon flushed out entirely when he hears the shattering of tables as a high pitched shriek comes from the mist succubus.

He phases through the counter in a wall of heatless flame as he sees you covering your ears.

The shriek had destroyed the tables and windows turning them into scrap, and had shattered your glasses. Blood was running down your ears from between your hands.

He stands between you and the succubus, his arms lit with powerful blue flames. “This wasn't part of the deal!”

“Not our deal. Shigaraki doesn't want you to have any temptations for returning to the human world. We need your girl gone for good.” She grins fiendishly. “She will never grow old, isn't that the best gift you could receive?”

“Dabi-” You call out from behind him.

“Stay back!” He yells at you. “Get out of here!” But he knew if you went into the rain outside, you would be done for. The succubus would be able to drown you where you stood.

Her body turns to pure water as she rushes at him. With her power boosted by the rain that washed in through the broken windows, all he could do was send wave after wave of fire to evaporate the water.

But what was evaporation if not mist?

He was fighting a losing battle as he backed up until he finally reached you. He covers you with his body as he puts up a wall of flame.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers to you as his flames are soon put out. “I’m sorry.”

You lift your hands to his face, eyes still closed, and pull him in, pressing your forehead against his.

“Don't be sorry for the things you can't control.” You whisper in return.

The succubus’s body turns corporal from the waist up. She coos. “How sweet, one last goodbye.”

You press a kiss to his lips.

“Don't open your eyes.” You murmur against his lips before letting go of his face and turning around to look at the succubus.

He closes his eyes, prepared to hear you scream in pain, prepared to hear your body drop to the ground.

But all he hears is the loud boom of thunder from outside and the crackle of rock breaking.

Rock?

He opens his eyes and sees you on your knees in front of a marble statue of the succubus.

His eyes widen as he sees you stand up. From the reflection of the marble, he can see your eyes flashing green.

“Did I ever tell you my mother was a demon?” You ask as you kneel and pick up your eyeglass frames from the floor. “She called herself Medusa. Silly, huh? My dad was human though, and well, as you know, they had me..” You turn around, your eyes now closed. “I guess you can say my quirk is having a very strange lineage.”

Dabi gets to his feet and runs at you, barreling into you with his arms swiftly wrapping around you.

You return the hug, your face nuzzled into his chest.

“So.. you're not mortal?” He says quietly, as if the good luck that had been shone upon the both of you would wither out.

“I'm not. It's my hundred and twenty-fourth this year.” You look up from his hold, he could see the faint glow of green from under your eyelashes. “Will you be there?”

He tightens his hold and presses his lips against yours.

“As if I'd ever leave.”

[mostweakhamlets]

if you're still doing these prompts, number 8 for fileflies? 🥺

Of course!! I love those fileflies 🥺 also I hope you don't mind but I kinda made it for my AU

--

Dagon decided that it was officially time for a wardrobe rotation. The leaves were falling off the trees, and the temperatures were dropping. It was the perfect time to break out the new jeans and light jumpers she had bought weeks before.

She opened her dresser drawer and paused. Only one lonely top laid there. She opened the drawer above it. A blouse and a a cardigan.

"Okay, where are all my jumpers?" She turned to the bed where Beelzebub laid spread-eagle, sound asleep. She walked to their side and nudged them. "Wake up!"

Beelzebub groaned and rubbed their eyes. "What?"

"Where are my jumpers?"

"I don't know. Your closet?"

"No."

"I give up, then. Where are your jumpers?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm asking you."

"I don't know either!"

Beelzebub pulled the blankets over their head. Dagon huffed. They most certainly did know where they were.

She threw open the doors to Beelzebub's closet. At the bottom, in a pile on the floor, was every missing jumper. She pulled one out, noting the wrinkles and stretched out collar.

"Beelzebub!"

"What?"

Beelzebub shot up, glaring. Then, their eyes settled on the jumper in Dagon's hands. "Oh, you found it. Problem solved."

"No. All of them are ruined."

"You can just fix them with a miracle. I don't see what the problem is."

"I'd just like my things in my closet, and your things in your closet. It keeps things neat. And how did you even stretch this out? You're smaller than me, you prick."

"I like tucking my legs into them."

Beelzebub demonstrated by pulling their knees to their chest and then stretching their t-shirt (also Dagon's) over them. Dagon sighed.

"You're a nuisance."

"Thank you."

"Why don't you wear your own clothes ever?"

"I prefer yours."

"We can buy you jumpers like mine."

"But then they wouldn't be yours."

"That is the point of you having your own wardrobe."

"Whatever." Beelzebub crawled out of bed. "I'm getting breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"No."

Beelzebub left while Dagon tended to her jumpers. One by one, she repaired them and laid them in their rightful place. It would be easy to lock her drawer or hide the sweaters so that Beelzebub couldn't get to them. But then Dagon wouldn't get to see them first thing in the morning, sleepy and in her too-large sweater that fell over their hands and off their shoulder. She wouldn't get to see Beelzebub rub their sleepy eyes with her sleeve or tug it around themselves for comfort.

She wouldn't get to see Beelzebub at their most vulnerable, in her clothes.

"Dagon?"

She heard Beelzebub call out for her before she smelled the smoke or heard the smoke detector. And realizing that Beelzebub didn't know how to cook, she booked it to the kitchen.

[transienturl]

the first half of the ask post you didn't reblog because you're doing them all anyways

Thanks, me!

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?Option 7, None of the above: highball glass. I looked up the glassware model I like; apparently the manufacturer calls them “nordic cooler glasses.” I much prefer glassware made of glass to any other type, and dislike the ridges/patterns on a lot of drinking glasses. Yep, I’m this picky.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?Chocolate. I like chocolate’s texture and the way it melts, and I don’t like eating bits of paper.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?Cotton candy. Bubblegum is gross.

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?Uhh… hm. “Smart,” probably, which wasn’t particularly helpful. They probably had a bunch more to say but I don’t remember what anymore.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?I like this ask post! As mentioned, glass cups. I like how soda cans feel in the hand but the drinking experience is just alright. Plastic is just unpleasant.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?I had to google “boho” and I’m still not super clear on what it encompasses, but it seems kinda neat! Also I have no idea what grunge really means. If I had a feminine body and thus felt like dressing up, I’d definitely pick boho out of the google image results of each of those terms.

7. earbuds or headphones?Both; if I wear either for too long I switch to the other for comfort. But I’m at least somewhat an audio enthusiast, so I could go on for a long time here. Ex:

The soundstage of open-back headphones is really unparalleled for one. Apple’s earpods/airpods actually fit me and have basically no microphonics, which usually are a big issue with IEMs for me, plus their resolution on the high end is surprisingly great.

Insert the rest of this discussion here.

8. movies or tv shows?I watch either of these not from seeking them out but from circumstance, but often wind up liking them. I’m one of those people who thinks, “I’d watch that,” and then never watches whatever that was. So I don’t really know which I do or would prefer.

9. favorite smell in the summer?Uh… hm. That’s a really good question. What’s most interesting about it, I think, is just the list of smells people associate with a season. Of course there’s environmental ones like rain, but for summer I assume you have to go with, I dunno, fair food or something like that.

Anyway, no idea! I can’t think of a lot of meaningful smells that aren’t food, honestly.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?I remember enjoying capture the flag a lot. I dunno if I was actually good at it, though. I did have pretty good short-duration speed, so I was a decent defender. I don’t really remember what else we did.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?Nothing. (I don’t like most American breakfast foods much, though that’s not why.)

12. name of your favorite playlist?I called it “the playlist which is entirely fire” because why not. Alternately, the playlist with all of my music is just named after me.

13. lanyard or key ring?Key ring; I’m not a… yeah actually that joke would only work for people who went to my high school and follow this blog (hi Xander).

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?That’s also a really good question and I’m positive I have an answer, but I can’t think of it. I eat candy once every like 3 months, so it doesn’t exactly come to mind easily. The candied pecans I just tried are pretty good, though. Insert reference to my halloween fanfiction.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?Y'know how there are some things that you remember deciding at one point were your favorite, but don’t remember well enough to properly consider now? A lot of my favorite pieces of media are like that, but I have at least some confidence in the decision I made at the time. Not so much here. I remember thinking with surprise that I enjoyed The Mill on the Floss when I read it in class, so that’s what comes to mind, but I think it’s the wrong answer. I’m pretty sure there are some books I really enjoy that I’ve forgotten were originally for class. Random example that I think is also wrong: The Hobbit. The Giver is pretty darn good, too. Fahrenheit 451. I don’t remember this being the case but we might have read A Wrinkle in Time in a class. Et cetera.

Wait, no, actually, I figured it out: Island of the Blue Dolphins. (Which, actually, goes in the “this might be too much of a childrens’ book to enjoy rereading” category along with Summerland, The Great Tree of Avalon, The Marino Mission, What the Moon Saw, The Secret of Platform 13, and Island of the Aunts, all of which I loved at the time of reading. And potentially also The Book Thief, although I doubt it. Can you tell I like award-winning children’s books, though?)

16. most comfortable position to sit in?With crossed legs or on my feet, which people seem to find weird.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?I only have one regularly-used pair of shoes.

18. ideal weather?Still. I can’t stand wind of any kind. A range of temperatures is nice (not too hot; not *too* cold but snow is pretty so I’ll allow a wide range in that direction.)

19. sleeping position?In a ball, or at least partially curled up.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?I haven’t written on paper in like a decade. I had to recently in order to leave a sticky note on something and had actual trouble making it legible. Essentially everything I write is on this 2013 Macbook Pro keyboard.

21. obsession from childhood?Um… existentialism? The pretend world my sisters’ and my stuffed animals lived in? Popular science topics and things from video game worlds, all of which went into said pretend world? Jet aircraft? Algebra and geometry puzzles? Configuring laptop computers?

22. role model?John Green. People who can communicate/present things effectively.

23. strange habits?I’m sure I have a ton. I’m not going to delay posting this to come up with any, but I’ll think about it. But especially if we’re using western society as the ‘norm’ for the sake of the question, I think there’s a ton of stuff I do that’d surprise people.

24. favorite crystal?Hm. I like the colorless ones like diamond, I guess? I just generally like gemstones, especially in fiction when they have powers. Oh, how’s this: I tend to like crystals that are (semi)transparent, so they have depth to them and change appearance as they’re rotated.

The other weird, mostly-unrelated thing that comes to mind is when I made a necklace for my best friend in elementary school and spent a lot of effort picking out the right sort of pendant, but I don’t think it was actually a crystal. (I often wonder what it would’ve been like if I hadn’t moved; I bet we’d still be close.)

25. first song you remember hearing?Neat question! I have no memory of a particular song being the first. My parents played music a lot when I was little, so a lot of their CD collection makes me think, “I’ve been listening to this since far before I noticed that I was.” The most recent one of those I heard and wrote down was Cathedral of the Pines by Tim Janis.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?…complain about the heat? :D Hm, I don’t have a lot of outdoor hobbies.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?…complain about the cold? :P I do like to ski somewhat. And I like hot cocoa.

28. five songs to describe you?

Eric’s Song – Vienna Teng

Doubt – Ruby Day

…hm. Looking through my playlists and the #media tag on this blog, there’s a ton of songs that I like, and where that fact tells you something about my taste in music, but it’s hard to find songs whose content particularly tells you something. Let’s just go with songs I find some meaning or relevance in?

Laughing With – Regina Spektor

Rainbow Connection – Kermit the Frog/various covers

Okay, I ran out of songs with particular meaning; let’s finish up with one whose meaning is arguably a lack of particular meaning?

Both Sides Now – Joni Mitchell

29. best way to bond with you?Talking, I guess. Boring answer, maybe, but I think most bonding experiences I’ve had were just two people talking about something important.

30. places that you find sacred?My elementary school? Is that a weird answer?

Other than that… a lot of places, really. Depending how you use “sacred,” I think it could apply in my mind to lots of unique places, especially natural-wonder type things.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?I haven’t got one. None of my clothes are things I’ve picked out to look good, honestly. The thing that makes me feel more “ready to go out and kick ass than usual” is, like, bringing a phone charger with me in case I run out of battery in the process of whatever ass kicking it’s going to be, and that’s not an outfit thing.

32. top five favorite vines?Remember vine? Good times.

1. A Legendary Argument (https://vine.co/v/enUmZjLFgw2/); the “just do it” “no” one

Yeah, that’s it. I don’t know of any other ones.

33. most used phrase in your phone?I… don’t know how to tell. That sounds like a cool thing to figure out but I dunno how to see that.

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?None, thank god.

35. average time you fall asleep?Too late.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?No idea.

37. suitcase or duffel bag?I don’t really know what context to think of this question in. Like, is there a time both would be valid options? Anyway, suitcase. Honorable mention: backpack.

38. lemonade or tea?I only like either of these in moderation. Usually I’d say lemonade, but lately I’ve been disliking acidic drinks more than usual, so maybe I’ll say tea. Actually, what I like is chrysanthemum tea, which you can get at dim sum places sometimes.

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?I’ll go with lemon cake. I can only eat a really small amount of lemon meringue. If someone made more of a lemon meringue tart with a really thin layer of lemon (maybe 10mm or a bit less) and a lot of crust and meringue, that could be really good though.

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?If “bad” counts as “weird,” let’s just say it involved sexual misconduct.

41. last person you texted?My dad (a link to instructions to get free in-flight wifi; nothing interesting).

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?I prefer to put stuff in pants pockets so I have them if I take off my jacket, but then my pants fall down because I have no hips and my pants are all regular-person sized.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?I immediately crossed off everything except hoodie and cardigan. With a different body I’d definitely pick cardigan.

44. favorite scent for soap?Unscented.

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?Eh, I mean, I think they all have potential. I’d pick sci-fi or fantasy over superhero; print comics have never interested me at all, though I’m sure there’s interesting stuff in there too.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?I feel like it’s just whatever you’re used to, honestly.

47. favorite type of cheese?Maybe fresh mozzarella? Either way, it’s going to be something people who really like cheese would barely count as cheese.

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?If I were a fruit… not to take it too literally, but I can’t think of a better way to interpret it. Um… a ground cherry, because it’s cute and has a place to hide in.

49. what saying or quote do you live by?“Hope is the correct response to the human condition.”

There are probably better ones that correspond to things I live by more, but that’s the one I have a quote for. Guess who it’s by? I’ll give you one guess.

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?Not sure. Show of the Weekend (@outsidextra) definitely wins “hardest laugh that I can remember recently” though.