#probably cried like twice writing this the first time and another time revising it for tumblr

[rrylies]

altan isn't a violent person at his core it was just what other people have always seen him as because he's speerly, and for some reason the speerlies have a savage connotation when we have no proof that they were actually animals in the sense that other people keep describing them as. im sure that we only get the savage speerly stereotype because as a people, they were fundamentally different from the nikara and the mugenese. and since they were all (mostly) dead at the start of book one, who was going to negate all of these stereotypes? no one. (i could go on about how altan was slapped with the "last speerly" moniker when in reality he probably remembers very little about his culture and what speer was like before all of the war and the death but that's for another time <3)

even back in his days of sinegard altan isnt depicted as a particularly violent person, though he's placed in violent events. like in the fighting pits at night altan is pitted up against his peers who want to fight him at a chance at victory, to prove that they've won a battle against the last speerly and we have no idea if altan actually wants to fight them or if he's forced to (iirc it's highly suggested that irjah baits him into fighting by promising him opium if he wins, and he will, because he always does) (although that could've just been nezha being a dick) and even though altan shows no signs of violence or aggression (he's always depicted as calm, stoic, etc) he's always painted as something less than human, an animal simply because ??? he wins their fights? as if that's not something he's expected to do in the first place. ("how did he do that? isn't he human?" "he isn't, he's speerly" this quote. ARGHARAGH RABAN ILY BUT SHUT UPPP)

and back to the stereotypes of speerlies and why they're painted as rabid animals even though there's no proof that they are. the main thing i can think of rn is how the federation (+ the mugenese) think of them simultaneously as something divine and to be studied but also as these rabid beasts at the same time. like the federation soldiers are clearly afraid of fire / the speerlies (i have a separate hc that their culture has something to do with this but that is also for another time <3) shiro mentions how precious and important the speerlies are (and yet his people bombed altan's? ://) while taking every opportunity he can to pick altan apart. then people wonder why altan's vicious towards the federation and hates them with every fiber of his being and why he has so much pent-up anger within him and it's like, hello?? they took him captive when he was a child, and sent him to the laboratory with shiro where he would spend half of his life being cut open and dissected, injected with opium time and time again, forced to watch his people die off one by one without the knowledge that he was the last until after he'd been rescued. (this still gets me btw no im not in tears) and then even when he's out, his suffering isn't over, (it's never over lets be real) because he's shipped off to sinegard academy where he'll be surrounded by so many different conflicting stereotypes (the nikara think he's an animal because he's speerly but shiro thought he was amazing because he was speerly, because of his connection to the phoenix) and really, he's not violent, not at his core, but i cant imagine the inner turmoil altan went through his first few years out of the lab + his first year at sinegard where he was the only one who was different (and also fighting an opium addiction at the same time and people belittle him over this when it literally wasn't his fault)

like altan was not violent. he was calm and he had his moments of peace, but ultimately because of everything that had happened to him (cough. shiro u motherfucker), the violence was forced out of him and became all he knew ("chaghan said they trained you like a dog at the academy" ://) and he literally didn't know any better, he was failed by every single person who should have helped him. (never getting over this btw)

yin riga, a man who he trusted, sent him away to shiro. (will never not think of how much little five year old altan trusted riga and then. well.) jiang, who was supposed to help him with his connection to the phoenix, shunned him. irjah, who was his supposed caretaker, who only fed his opium addiction in order to control him, just like how shiro did, just like how the nikara did to the speerlies (parallels. yaaay.)

in the end altan trengsin wasn't a violent person, but it was all anyone wanted to see. it was all anyone would remember him by.

[ryosmne]

You're gonna fry your brain.

Hello everyone, since it's finals season and we're all probably really dead inside, I decided to self indulge in some tattoo artist! Sukuna writing, so here's this brainrot that won't let me focus on studying. You can read more of this au in the au masterlist.

I've been trying so hard to finish up a bartender! Dabi fic I have in the works for too long, hopefully I can get around to it too. After finals are done I'll be writing a lot more that's for sure.

Tattoo artist! Sukuna x f!reader

Warnings: language, suggestive tones, that's it.

Finals are by far the worst thing about college, y/n knows that the hard way. She's been stressing herself out for the past few days, maybe weeks, going over the same material again and again. She'd constantly argue that she really needs to pass with an high grade that's why she's so obsessive over it.

Sukuna had tried multiple times to help her ease her nerves, he's been there, although he was the type who never really stuck his nose in a book for too long, regardless, his best girl needed a break, no matter how hard she denied it.

Y/n had declined his invitations of going out, she dropped by the shop a few times, bringing Sukuna some food, but he could tell she was slowly burning herself up.

Today was no different, y/n had been writing everything down all day to help memorize it better. So many hours has passed since she started her study session but she didn't even notice that her clock read 8 pm already.

Sukuna did notice, y/n had been barely responding back to his texts and it was time he took matters into his own hands.

The earpiercing doorbell pulled y/n out of her trance like state, she quickly got up from her desk to go and get rid of whoever just rung it.

"Dollface, I was beginning to think you had died in there."

There was Sukuna, leaning in her doorframe, looking as good as he always did, in a plan white t shirt and a gray pair of sweatpants, holding a few bags and a huge basket.

"not quite, what's all this?"

Y/n motioned to the bags he had.

"Nothing much, just some things I picked up for you, will you let me in? this basket is fucking heavy."

No, the basket wasn't that heavy, Sukuna could carry it just fine, he just wanted to make sure that y/n didn't have a chance to deny him.

Y/n stepped aside to let Sukuna in, and he went straight to her kitchen, dropping his bags on the table.

"Thanks for dropping by babe, but I really need to finish the last three chapters I have left."

"Y/n, you're going to fry your brain at this rate, no more studying for today."

"But-"

"No buts, you won't read another sentence today. We're destressing together."

Turns out, Sukuna had brought over many different things. He's not the type of guy to shy away from anything, so the first thing he did was to grab y/n and drag her into her bathroom.

Sukuna had taken mental notes the first time he looked through y/n's skincare products, he was able to determine her skin type and he went a bit crazy, buying her different things to try out.

"You are insane, that's drunk elephant, why did you get this many things?"

"Because you have the really terrible cheap stuff, now shut up you're going to eat the soap if you keep talking with cleanser all over your face."

Now, y/n's skincare wasn't bad, Sukuna had expensive taste and he's a bit of a brand snob

Sukuna gently poked her cheek with a smile as y/n's face distorted because she had in fact tasted the cleanser and Sukuna could only laugh at her before she flicked some into his mouth too.

"Don't kiss me with a face mask on you brat"

Y/n let out a soft laugh, Sukuna was doing his best to concentrate at the task at hand. Matching y/n's nail polish to his. Y/n had just finished painting his, matte black like he requested but y/n gave him some white polish on his ring finger. Sukuna had argued for a bit, saying it didn't look good and that he didn't like it, but gave in after y/n gave him a puppy face, can you blame him?

"But you look so cute like that."

Y/n complained, knowing that this little comment was going to feed Sukuna's ego more.

"I know doll, but artificial orange doesn't taste as good as it smells."

Y/n once again wasn't wrong, his cocky attitude always creeped in at times, not that she minded.

Time passed fast with watching trash reality shows on y/n's couch, after their very own self care day, Sukuna made sure to fix something they could both eat. Now they were engolved in each others arms, y/n's sleepy eyes staring up at him.

"How are you feeling, doll?"

Sukuna's hand found her hair, gently resting on top of her head.

"Much better, you're the best you know that?"

"I've heard it once or twice, I'll give you reasons to say it more often"

He gave her a gentle smile, leaning closer to steal a kiss, a little more intimate than the ones they shared earlier.

" 'Kuna, I'm sorry I was so stressed and distant this week, I probably worried you-"

"Don't be stupid, it's ok, I just want you to know I'm here for you, and it's just finals. You're a smart cookie, I'm sure you'll do great."

Y/n found his words reassuring and nuzzled closer to him, letting her lungs burn with his scent that never got less intoxicating.

"Thank you 'kuna, what would I do without you?"

The last few words came out slurred, but Sukuna understood everything, y/n's breathing got steadier against him.

"I don't know doll I'm just glad to have you here, I promised to take good care of you."

And just like that, y/n was fast asleep next to him, he didn't mind her uncomfortable couch one bit all he cared about was how at peace she looked. Maybe he would move her to her bed later, he couldn't bring himself to do it now.

The next morning, y/n found herself on her bed, Sukuna had almost woken her up getting ready before he left to go to work, but he managed to put her right back to sleep with a kiss on the forehead and a light "don't wake up yet doll".

Y/n made her way to the kitchen, Sukuna usually left a little letter for her on the nightstand by the bed, he must've been in a rush today.

Not quite the case.

Sukuna not only made her, her favourite breakfast, he also left post it notes in some places.

You suck at food shopping, thank me later.

Was written on her fridge.

So that's what all the bags were for, y/n didn't find out last night because of how tired she was, and how much fun she had being around sukuna.

He had filled up her fridge with everything she ever needed to make a meal for herself or have a snack. Let's be honest Sukuna just wanted to cook for her again.

Another post it was found in her bathroom cabinet.

You're probably gonna get mad at me for this but I'm not sorry, you deserve it.

The poor cabinet was stuffed to the brim with brand name skincare that made anyone's wallet scream in anguish and a lot of bathbombs. Upon closer look y/n almost cried at how attentive Sukuna was, he took extra care to look out for her skins needs.

Y/n found the last post it on her desk while she did her revision.

Don't overwork yourself doll, you've got me for that.

Y/n brought Sukuna cupcakes from seven different bakeries to try that day.

Bonus Domain shenanigans: "Sukuna left early again?"

Megumi asked, the day had been going pretty slow he wasn't surprised his friend dipped.

"Yeah, he left this behind though."

Geto held up a very nice looking white shop bag, a slight glimmer in his eye let the rest of his friends know he planned something.

"So? What's in it anyways?"

Gojo was resting his chin on his hand, blank expression on his face, completely unamused by Geto's discovery.

"Give me that"

Nanami swiftly snatched the bag, curious to see what was inside of it. He reached in and retrieved several wrapped round objects.

"Bathbombs?"

He questioned puzzled, but then his lips tugged upward.

Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and Geto, each got two bathbombs, and even though they would outright say it, they were pretty damn exited to drop them in their bathtubs. That's what Sukuna gets for avoiding clean up.

Sukuna entered the shop barely greeting anyone and begun looking around. Fuck he was looking for something, everyone tried to keep their composure.

"Have you seen a white bag?"

He finally looked at the group of men before him.

"like a backpack? No "

Megumi spoke, Sukuna begun thinking he was remembering everything wrong, that's untill he saw something sticking out of Geto's pocket. That's for sure a bathbomb he bought for y/n

"You motherfuckers, how low can you stoop to steal my girls bathbombs?"

Hey it's me again, though I'd add that here, if you have specific skin demands I tried to cover that in here so everyone can enjoy it, I have lots of allergies and skin concerns so I'm kinda sensitive to that stuff. Hope you had fun reading, remember to take it easy, untill next time :>

Tag list: (comment or message me and I’ll gladly add you)

@artist4theworld @skatercashew

@divineteaty

@in-inception

@not-another-ackerman

@jjk-is-my-shit @ilovemarvel99

@thegaymadafakkasworld @readinghassavedmylife @ruler-of-the-skies

@bluebananasssss

@ghost-of-todoroki

@sabsaocit

@heaveus

@jackysenpaii @rebenok-zimnayaya

@aam1na @sore-eyes@ryan249057 @goobygoobster @charlie-xo @kamisamaundercover

@shadoweepingscream

@sunfloweroranges

@haleypearce

@crapimahuman

@fiona782

@levi-ships-eruri

@chocolatecake764

@stupid-simp33 @ciphersighs

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

The Couple Next Door IX (Roger Taylor x Female!Reader)

Find Part Eight Here

A/N: Surprise! I’m briefly back from a year-long Hiatus and I have one chapter for TCND, one for ATU AND a George Harrison one-shot I’m just gonna drop and then probably disappear again for another few months. I’m also finding it even more difficult to write for Roger seeing as I’ve kinda been listening to nothing but The Beatles for the last fifteen months and I really only hear Queen at work, so that’s gotta change. But I am very sorry about the LONG wait. I really do appreciate you guys, and I think you’ve all waited quite long enough to find out what happens next...

Summary: Roger and Y/N spend the morning taking care of Bobby; they talk a little more about the future and come to the conclusion they both want the same thing.

(Let your imagination run free, bc this can be either Canon or Borhap!Roger)

WARNINGS: Swearing is probably a given at this point, self-doubt, mentions/ suggestions of sex (advise you to avoid if you’re under 18), and I usually revise when I’m stoned so there’s probably some typos in here too, sorry.

Rated T for Teen-- (I feel like a video game rating smh)

Bobby was crying again.

Granted, it was about seven in the morning, and he did sleep for the rest of the night.

Roger was the last of the both of you to wake up; not because of the crying-- he didn't even hear the crying-- but he was wrapped up in the blankets with you, and you were trying to remove yourself from his grasp.

"Don't leave," Roger grumbled as he pulled you tightly against his chest, eyes remaining closed as you whispered back to him.

"But I have to go. Baby's cryin'."

Roger loosened his grip on you, much to his dismay, and you slipped from his embrace, leaving him cold, and alone.

"Come back, Baby..." He really hoped his gravelly plea would entice you to return from the nursery after tending to Bobby, and although you were probably against having sex in your friends' bed, he figured there was no harm in testing the waters.

"That's not how that works when you have a baby, Rog. The day starts now."

Roger groaned in protest, but as he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands, he revealed to himself that you were no longer in the room, and the baby's cries settled when he heard your voice float down the hall from the nursery room.

Roger, as much as he didn't want to, tossed the comforter off of his body, and after rising to his feet and combing his fingers through his hair, he shuffled out of the bedroom and made a beeline to the stairs.

He was glad he was familiar with John's kitchen; because he was certain you had no idea where anything was, meaning he would be the one preparing breakfast that morning, and the one following it, most likely.

Fuck it, he would (try to) cook you up seven different meals a day if you asked him.

Anything for you.

He put the kettle on, and moved to the pantry in search for John's teabags, yawning lightly as he pulled the door open.

Nothing in the pantry really stuck out to him as being a good breakfast that morning, so Roger ended up migrating to the fridge after retrieving the tea, where his eyes fell on the carton of eggs on the bottom shelf.

He settled on making French Toast for breakfast seeing as he, according to you, made the best French Toast in England.

So he got to work whipping up some eggs and pulling four slices of bread from the bread box on the counter-- but not before he got one of Bobby's bottles out for you, warmed it, and placed it on the kitchen table.

Roger was frying the French Toast in no time, and he hummed gently as he busied himself with focusing on the now whistling kettle, and when the right time to flip the toast would be.

"... I thought you were still in bed," your words were sudden, and it made Roger jump a little. But when he realized it was only you, Bobby in your arms, his mouth contorted into a dopey smile.

"Nah," Roger turned the pan's burner down a little, and after he flipped the French Toast, he set his spatula on the counter, turning to face you.

"I was gonna let you sleep in, since you were so reluctant on waking up," you explained with a yawn. "But here you are awake, and making breakfast before me."

"Well it wouldn't be fair then, would it? Me sleeping in while you've all this work to do?"

"I don't know, would it?"

"I really don't think so, Dove."

He felt pride swell in his chest when pink dusted your cheeks at the sound of your new nickname, and he took this chance to swoon you further by pulling you in gently by the elbows, and he enveloped both you and Bobby in his embrace.

"Beautiful..." Roger's voice was barely a whisper as he touched his lips to your jawline, and you responded with a soft exhale.

"Even when you've just woken up," Roger mumbled against the skin of your neck, lips curling into a smile, "you are the prettiest goddamned thing I've ever laid eyes on."

"Mmm, down, boy," you purred back jokingly, taking a small step back. "Baby still needs to eat."

"Well yours is coming right up," he teased, "and Bobby's is already at the table." Roger pointed to the bottle on the other side of the room before tapping your rear. "Take a seat, and I'll bring your food over."

You didn't have to be told twice. You took a seat at the table, and although Bobby was growing a little agitated, it was short lived when you put the bottle of milk in his possession.

Roger, not five minutes after you sat down, joined you at the table with your French Toast and your mug of tea, made just the way you liked it, of course.

"'S the right tea, yeah?"

You took a quick look at the label hanging from the mug.

"Yep." Your eyes squinted after letting the label fall where the string tied to it would let it. "Y'know, you've been making my tea right for months, you don't have to check to make sure you're right."

"You know I'm always gonna make sure it's to your liking."

"And I love you for it."

"Hopefully for other things too. I'm not just good at being your barista."

"Oh, don't you worry. I'm not overlooking your other good traits," you smiled as you brought your mug to your lips and having the first sip of tea of the day.

As Roger sat down next to you with his own plate of food and mug of tea, he decided to wait on Bobby to finish so he could eat with you.

So, naturally, he took the time to evaluate again what kind of situation he was in.

There was nothing like watching you care for Bobby. Roger had known you for years, and not once in his life did he ever think he would be sitting next to you at breakfast while feeding a baby, whether or not the child was his own, or yours.

The whole scene looked too good to be true, though like the previous night, Roger just drank in the sight of you putting all your love and care into a child at breakfast with him.

How did you think you weren't cut out for being a mother?

This was in your nature.

The domesticity of the situation made Roger a little emotional. This was the closest he'd ever gotten to experiencing a breakfast with a family he'd built, and he spent every passing second filling his mind and heart with the beautiful sight before him.

"Y/n, you would make a wonderful mother." Roger's words left his mouth faster than his brain could register what he'd said.

You looked to Roger from Bobby, cheeks and tips of your ears darkening, and Roger was talking again before he could realize it and catch himself.

"Any man would be so damn lucky to have you. I honestly can't believe you stick around me still."

Your face was feeling real hot, now. Roger's head was still lagging behind his words, and clearly, he wasn't done talking.

"You could be out building a beautiful family right now, but instead you're babysitting with your best friend who you also occasionally sleep with. I just... I don't understand."

It took you a second to respond, but Roger didn't blame you. Honestly, he didn't even know what he would have said if he were asked the same question.

"... Well, I love you, Roger."

Your words were simple, and Roger knew your statement was nothing but platonic, but that didn't stop his heart from pounding against his ribcage.

You'd said those exact three words to him minutes earlier, but the context of the conversations contrasted their meanings.

"But we promised each other at the beginning of all of this that we'd be fine giving up pursuing family life if that means living with one another..."

"... You sound unsure, now."

The atmosphere felt heavy, and it was almost as if Bobby had known making noise wasn't in his best interest. He decided to finish eating at the right time.

"... It's not that I'm unsure. It's just..."

Roger waited patiently for you to answer, but you had noticed Bobby finished his milk, and you took the bottle from him.

You burped him, and placed a pacifier you pulled from your pocket in Bobby's mouth. You must have gotten it from upstairs before you came down.

"Let me," Roger offered his arms out for the baby, and you let him take Bobby. You'd stood up and moved to the sink to wash the bottle.

Meanwhile, Roger, who'd also gotten to his feet, was slowly walking around the kitchen. He was praising Bobby for finishing all his breakfast, insisting he was so proud of him, his smile wide and gaze adoring as he evaluated the child in his arms.

"It's just that. There. The way you're behaving with him," you turn to face Roger, finger pointed at him. "The way you're treating him as your own."

Roger's mouth opened and closed a few times, but after shutting his jaw for the third time, he decided the best thing to do in this situation would be to keep quiet.

"You'd make the most wonderful father, Roger. The way you behave with Bobby, god, the way you behaved with Raymond the other day," you sounded frustrated, and all Roger could do was watch you pace the kitchen, his sheepish face now a deep red.

"It's just that I would want the father of my kids to be just like you. I wouldn't settle for anything less."

Roger opened his mouth again to speak. He felt like his chest was on fire. Your thoughts were becoming painstakingly parallel to his, Roger had noticed. He couldn't get any words out before you started speaking again.

"Like you said last night, this job is giving us a chance to experience what it'd be like to have a family... and maybe I'm upset I did throw the chance to have all of that away."

You looked like you were on the verge of tears, and all Roger could do was watch you and listen to what you had to say.

"Roger, I hope you know you will always have a special place in my heart. You're my family, you have been for the last five years of my life, and there's no doubt about it. But being able to have a child..."

Your hands ghosted over the robe's fabric covering your definitely unpregnant belly. "... I think I want to have children."

"... Y/n I hope you know I feel exactly the same way."

And then everything was clear.

Roger understood where his band was coming from.

Getting married to you would solve all your problems.

He knew what the both of you were thinking in this new moment of silence, but there was absolutely no way Roger was going to fall to one knee and propose to you right now when he wasn't even romantically involved with you.

And he just felt it would be very inappropriate if he took this moment to spontaneously ask you on a romantic date with the intentions of courting you.

"Listen, Y/n," Roger finally built up enough courage to break the silence. Bobby cut him off with a short cry, and Roger immediately started swaying the baby in his arms. Sure enough, Bobby's agitation ceased, and Roger could continue, keeping the movement going.

"Just because we're living together without families now doesn't mean we won't be able to have families, say, five to ten years down the road."

At this point, although it was necessary, Roger didn't really want to mention the discomfort he felt when imagining you falling for someone who wasn't him.

Your eyes were big and sad, lip pouted as you considered Roger's words. "... are you sure?"

The idea of you and him having to move out of the condo Roger risked the both of your love lives for didn't sit well with him.

You'd be gone making sweet love to some lucky asshole who probably didn't deserve to be in your presence, while Roger goes on a bender, gets ahold of some weed and coke, and sleeps with enough girls to distract him from realizing he'd thrown the best thing in his life away-- you.

He didn't want you to think he thought you were selfish. The last thing he needed right now was to feel guilty for making you feel guilty.

So he just nodded. "No house isn't forever anyways." When you didn't respond to his little joke, he sighed.

"Y/n, we're still so young. You don't have to commit yourself to anything like that just yet. Enjoy being able to go out drinking with me every weekend, and sleeping in on our days off. Your chance to start a family will come when the time is right."

You let out a shaky breath. Roger was actually a little surprised with how well you were keeping yourself together.

But his actions put the both of you here, and to see that this conversation nearly reduced you to tears had Roger drowning in guilt, even without the help of mentioning any of his inner conflict to you.

"I just hope you're right." Your voice was broken and your fingers were tangled stressfully in your hair.

"Hey," Roger's voice had gone soft again, his rocking slowing to a halt, and you looked up to find him with an open arm, awaiting your touch.

You slowly unravelled your fingers from your hair, and you gave into the hug not moments later. Roger pulled you to his chest tightly, his free arm occupied by the baby.

"Y'know... I made you French Toast to start the day off good." When you didn't say anything in response, Roger pulled away from you just enough to look you in the face.

He was giving you that same look he did at the Garrison's again; that unreadable gaze he'd achieved with those big blue eyes that seemingly bored holes into your very soul.

His free hand slipped up from your back to your neck, and he leaned in to just touch his lips to the corner of your mouth.

So close, yet so far away.

It wasn't before long that he pulled away from you, but Roger just couldn't keep his eyes off you.

"You come sit down and enjoy your French Toast, Dove. I've got Bobby."

"But--"

"Please?"

Roger knew he'd convinced you as soon as he said that magic word. Though you took a moment to look from the bundle in his arms to the breakfast you really were dying to dig into, you eventually sighed out a gentle "thank you," before taking your seat again at the table.

He came around and kissed the top of your head. "Enjoy, Honey." Roger took a seat next to you, Bobby still in his one arm, and the both of you ate your French Toast in relative silence for the first few seconds.

"... God, you really do make good French Toast, Blondie." Roger was smiling now. At least you were talking again.

"I only improved my cooking skills for you, y'know," he admitted with a mouthful of his food, though he didn't sound ashamed of it.

"And thank God for that. Cooking every other night sure beats cooking every night."

"You can say that again," Roger mumbled before shoving the last of his breakfast into his mouth. You still slowly ate away at your meal, and Roger was making funny faces at Bobby in between taking sips of his tea.

The telephone in the living room started ringing, and you stood up to go get it, but Roger immediately dropped his fork and grabbed your wrist.

"Nuh-uh. I just finished eating. You still have a little bit to go. Take Bobby and I'll get it." You scooped the baby up without another word, smiling when he opened his eyes.

"Can you at least bring back his rattle from his play pen?"

"Can do, Princess," he called over his shoulder as he approached the phone.

"H'lo?"

"Roger?"

"Oh, hey, John!" Roger tucked the phone's handset under his chin, carrying the telephone in his left hand so he could get Bobby's rattle.

"Isn't it a little early to be up?" Roger glanced at the clock, which read that it was quarter after seven.

"Biological clocks. Just wanting to checking in. Is Bobby okay? Has he been any trouble?"

"No, of course not! He's doing fine, John." Roger tucked the rattle in his back pocket when he found it, and returned to the writing desk where the phone was meant to stay.

That was something he loved about you. You always bought him pyjamas with pockets. The concept was cool, and being able to use them was even cooler.

"Y/n's got him in the kitchen right now," he explained, taking the handset again with his now free hand. "We're all just finishing up breakfast, actually."

"Oh good. How is she?" John paused for a second, his voice dropping a little lower. "... How are you guys?"

Roger made sure his voice was a little quiet, as well. "John, this may have been your guys' best idea ever. I don't know why I was against this in the beginning."

"Really?! What's happened already?!" John, everyone would have guessed to be one to avoid certain kinds of gossip, though when it came to Roger's business with you, he liked checking up on that.

"I told her about all that family stuff."

"And?"

"And, well..." Roger set the phone back onto the desk and scratched the back of his neck. "... She may or may not be having the same problem," he mumbled.

"So... so you both want a family?" John tried clarifying.

"Yes."

"Then why are you two not together?!" Roger slipped away around the corner into the main hall with just the receiver so he was a little further away from the kitchen. He didn't want you hearing their conversation, or John through the receiver.

"Well I'm not asking her here!"

"Then where? And when?"

Roger knew John was just getting excited, and his questions honestly had Roger brainstorming every possibility when it came to asking you.

"... I don't know, yet," Roger said after a while of thinking. "But soon. God, it needs to be soon." He didn't quite know why he was pressuring himself to ask you sooner than later.

Maybe it was because he was scared someone much better and more deserving of you (or alternatively, a selfish prick) was going to waltz in and steal you from him just before he had you for sure.

"Do you need any help with that part? I can get Fred and Bri--"

"No no no, it's okay, John." Roger leaned up against the wall of the hallway, fingers tapping the handset absentmindedly with his eyes squeezed shut for a moment.

"You guys have already done enough, really. I... I think I'm good on my own from here."

"Well, I'm glad," John expressed to Roger. "It's not every day you need to help Roger Taylor get with a girl, y'know."

"This is different, and you know it."

"I just like to tease," John defended, and Roger could even hear a smile evident in his words.

"Anyways, Veronica and I will be home tomorrow around noon. Y/n's got our number. You two take care."

"Of course, you too," Roger was making his way back to the writing desk.

"Thanks. Oh, and Roger?" John added quickly.

"Hm?"

"If you two end up doing anything, for God's sake, please wash the sheets."

As John was speaking, you'd walked into the living room with Bobby in your arms. "We're gonna go and have some play time, now! Yes we are!"

Roger was too panicked by your presence to even realize you weren't paying any attention to the phone call, and he hoped to God you didn't hear a single thing John had said. "Yeah-yes! Laundry. Will do."

He nodded his head once, though John couldn't see him, and after saying their good byes, Roger hung up the phone.

He turned to where you were in the living room. You were looking in the play pen for something, and Roger suddenly remembered the rattle in his back pocket.

He pulled it out hurriedly and held it out to you. "Shit! I'm so sorry about that--"

"Don't swear, Roger," you took the rattle, a smile on your lips you both knew you were trying to frown away. "There's a baby here."

"What? He doesn't know what that word means."

"Well, the more you keep saying it, the more of a chance he has at that being his first word, and I do not need the Deacon Family hunting us down for teaching their kid swears." You looked from Roger down to Bobby, shaking the rattle gently and grinning when Bobby squealed happily and reached out for the toy.

You took a seat on the couch, and played around with Bobby while Roger went back to the kitchen to do the dishes.

From 7:30 AM to about 2:30, all that really happened was play-time and lunch, something Roger prepared. You offered to do the dishes, but Roger wouldn't allow it. He just suggested you put Bobby up for his nap. He'd fallen asleep in your arms during play-time, like he did with Roger the night before.

The both of you thought it was crazy Bobby would just fall asleep rather than cry, but honestly, neither of you were complaining. Quiet baby for the win!

Roger just finished putting the last plate on the drying rack on the counter as he listened above for your footsteps leaving Bobby's room. He dried his hands off with the dishtowel hanging over his shoulder after turning off the faucet.

From behind, Roger felt a pair of arms slowly circle his body, and he smiled warmly at the feeling of you pressed against his back.

"He asleep?"

"Mhm."

Roger's smile only widened as you inched your palms up his chest. He turned in your arms and pressed his hands against your hips, inching you closer as he leaned back against the kitchen sink.

"Well, what do we do, now?" Roger asked. He sounded like he was up to no good. With the sultry look in his eyes and the way the smile on his lips looked like he was repressing a naughty suggestion, he knew you knew he already had something on his mind.

"Well, I mean," your hands slipped up into Roger's long hair, fingers tangling themselves between the strands. "Anything, really."

You knew what game Roger was playing, and you loved how cute he was, thinking he was going to have you on your knees for him.

His eyes shamelessly raked over the top half of your body, and he squeezed his hands, still at your hips.

"What'll you be doing with your free time, Roger?" You took one more step closer to him, and he pulled you the rest of the way to him so your groin was flush with his.

"I'm looking right at her."

He was already strained against his jeans, and you just offered a smile, fingers tightening their grip in Roger's hair.

"Mmm... I kinda like the sound of that," you admitted lowly, half of a smile on your lips. You shifted your hips from side to side, and Roger tried to pull you even closer.

You rolled your hips against Roger again, and the cheekiness in his face fell with a look of long-awaited relief, and his head dropped to your shoulder.

One of his hands moved up to grab you by the back of your neck, and when he lifted his head to look at you again, his second hand dragged upwards from your hip to squeeze your waist.

Roger lifted the hand by your neck, and combed your hair back with his fingers. His eyes fell onto yours for a brief moment, and you could have sworn there was something he tried to tell you there.

You just couldn't read him.

But he didn't care. He pulled you in close again, and his lips were on yours.

You'd kissed Roger before. Not in public, but definitely in the bedroom. And they weren't very scarce. Honestly, if Roger's lips weren't somewhere else on your body, they'd be on yours.

But why was this feeling different from all the other times he'd kissed you?

He was being a lot less forceful and needy than he usually was.

His grip wasn't tight on you, and it wasn't like he was crushing you against him as if indicating he needed more of you, now.

He was holding you rather, and the hand at your waist circled around to press against your lower back. The hand on your neck shifted a little forward so Roger could gently slide the pad of his thumb down the column of your throat.

The both of you were holding your breath, and Roger was the first to pull away. The both of you sucked in some air, and before you could even draw in a full breath, Roger's lips were on yours again.

He pushed towards you, guiding you backwards until your back was flat against the refrigerator. His warm hands grabbed for yours and he pinned them above your head by your wrists.

Okay. This, was something you were used to. But there was nothing that could have prepared you for when Roger's hands loosened their grip on your wrists, and he was lacing his fingers between your own.

Your hands felt very small in Roger's. How had he never noticed that before? What else had he neglected to realize about you?

In that moment, he felt you pull away to breathe, and he looked down at you worriedly, fingers frozen, yet still laced with yours.

"I- uh... I-I'm sorry--"

"No no, don't be. It's okay," your response was very rushed, but you didn't skip a word.

There was about a minute of silence, your hot breaths mingling in the space between your lips, though your gazes were locked with one another, and you couldn't look away.

"Did-uh... did you want me to... to stop?" His question was gentle, almost sincere-sounding, but he still made no effort to move from his place.

"No. God, no." And as soon as you'd answered, Roger closed the space between the both of you again, his fingers unwound from yours to grab you by the jaw, and you just held his waist, pushing your body as close to him as he would let you.

He shifted around a little, and moved his leg between yours. You could feel his mouth bend into a smirk against yours, and he began to apply pressure to the apex of your legs with his knee.

Before long, as much as you wanted to resist it, you fell to Roger's submission, and as you waited for him to grab your waist and put you wherever, he hesitated for a second, and dropped his hands from yours.

You opened your eyes again to find Roger, face red, and staring at your chest. Not in an ogling way, but more of a method to avoid looking you in the eye.

He could tell you were looking at him, and he shifted his gaze to you. He itched at his hands awkwardly, mouth opening and closing as he tried to explain himself.

You just waited. You gave him time to think, and he had an answer for you sooner than either of you would have thought.

"I just... I wanna try something else. I don’t want to control you like I do every night."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but a good beginning to a demonstration.

"Will you come to bed with me, Y/n?" His offer was gentle, yet confident, despite offering a hand out hesitantly.

When you dropped your hand into his, all of the tension in Roger's being relaxed, and he quietly led you up the stairs, past the nursery, and into John and Veronica's room.

Before you could say anything he gently explained that he'd do laundry later, and then he pulled you in for another kiss he'd been waiting to give you since the last one.

Roger pulled you closer to him, hands cupping your face as his lips began to desperately chase after yours. You kissed Roger back with just as much vigor, but then he slowed the movements of his mouth, and guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Roger helped lower you down onto the bed, and he leaned over you, dipping down to kiss your lips again. He knelt between your legs, and pulled them up around his waist so he could lean in even closer.

You felt his hands squeeze your hips, and he pulled at your bottom lip with his teeth. You hummed lowly, your eyelashes kissing your cheeks as Roger pulled away ever so slightly-- just enough to pull his shirt off of him, and close the distance between your bodies again.

You tangled your hands into his hair, and he hummed in approval before pulling back just once more.

"I'm sure that's hardly fair..."

"What?"

"This," Roger tugged gently at the hem of your shirt.

"Why's yours still on?"

"... I never said it had to be."

Roger exhaled, and slowly pulled your shirt up over your head after you raised your arms to help him out a little.

He placed the palm of his hand over the smooth skin of your belly as he stared at your bare torso. And before long, he dipping down to kiss you again.

You reciprocated his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck and tightening your legs around his hips, to which he rocked himself against your core, and then---

Bam!

The headboard hit the wall, and Bobby woke up.

"Nooo..." you squeezed your eyes shut as the baby's cries began to reverberate down the hallway.

"Fuck!" Roger groaned, eyebrows knitted together helplessly as he climbed off of you. You both knew it was Roger who technically woke the baby up, and it was just silently agreed on that he went to put him back down.

"Dammit to hell, those separated headboards."

Roger opened the nursery door, and made his way to the crib in the corner of the room. Bobby's cheeks were wet with tears, and Roger's heart sank. "'M sorry, little guy. C'mere. Come see uncle Roger."

He picked the baby up and rocked him back and forth, though it wasn't exactly doing much, so Roger took a seat in the rocking chair on the opposite side of the room, swaying the both of them with a push of his feet.

Bobby's cries settled, and Roger felt proud of himself. Sure, he wanted to get back to what he was doing before, but instead he took his time in making sure Bobby was comfortable and not in need of anything before he drifted off to sleep again.

Bobby played around with Roger's fingers a few moments after his agitation ceased, and he couldn't believe how large his hands were in comparison to Bobby's. He was once that size.

A little while later Roger set Bobby down in his crib, and the infant was out. The drummer smiled at his accomplishment. He didn't even need your help.

With that, he left the room without a sound.

He stepped into John and Veronica's room, and closed the door quietly behind him. He was in the middle of turning on his heel when he stopped dead in his tracks.

You'd taken some of the pillows off the bed and wedged them between the wall and the headboard to keep the bed from making noise.

You were also splayed out on the bed in a lot less clothing than he remembered you in when he left.

With a teasing beckon from your finger, Roger knew three things were for certain.

1. You were the smartest woman he knew.

2. You were the most gorgeous woman he'd ever laid eyes on.

3. He, the Roger Taylor, had fallen madly, and helplessly in love with you.

-------------------------------------

A/A/N: Again, you’ve all been waiting long enough for the next chapter, so here you are. i hope you all enjoy, and if my response is great with this one, I’ll see if I can spit out another one soon <3

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[1-800-channie]

[10:30AM] with Chan;

Note: For my love, as promised, @backhugsforhyunjin ♥ I hope this is what you were asking for.

Warning: Very angst

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　 *･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

If there was a time when Chan treated you like a queen, it was during your pregnancy days.

The sweet boy would send you a text in every chance he could, asking if you were alright or if the baby was quiet and letting you rest.

He would go shopping with you. Helping you choose the cutest outfits for your changing body.

You loved to wake up with him kissing your growing belly, or talking to your baby like the great father he is, completely lost in enjoyment.

Chan loved you more than anything. He knew, from the moment that your eyes locked for the first time, that you would be his wife and mother of his children.

Your wedding was simple and small, just his dear bandmates, his family and yours as well.

The blonde boy always believed that you couldn't become more gorgeous, but when his eyes witnessed your pregnant body, he changed his mind.

But, everything seemed to go down as soon as your baby, Mina, was born. Chan became completely in love with his girl and all of his attention turned to her.

She turned five months when the Stray Kids comeback was scheduled, and it got worst for you.

Since the baby still needed all your attention, you started to work from the house. Designing, after all, could be done from home, and since Mina was a sleepy girl, you could work relatively well.

Your routine was rough. You couldn't sleep much because the baby would wake up crying in the middle of the night, waking you up. And, when she finally falls asleep, you couldn't rest yourself. So, you decided to start working at night.

You had to take care of Mina, clean the house by yourself and even do your work. It was evident on your face that you lost some weight and the dark mess under your sights were showing signs of tiredness.

Your husband's routine was the same ever since then. He would kiss your forehead as goodbye in the morning, and, would do the same as he stepped inside the house passing the three in the morning.

Of course, he would go and kiss his Mina good night as well. And also, always tell her he loved her. Something he hasn't said to you, in months.

You woke yesterday with a new feeling of hope blooming in your chest. Day 15th of May, it's your wedding anniversary of 3 years.

You woke up early, hurrying in making your husband a delicious breakfast. As you happily hummed a song that was stuck in your head, you finished the pancakes, a proud smile displayed on your lips.

But quickly the smile vanished away when Chan appeared in the kitchen: He kissed your forehead, picked his keys from the hall and walked out.

No 'I love you'. No 'good morning baby'. No 'Happy 3 year anniversary.' Nothing.

With teary eyes you gazed all over the food you cooked him: the pancakes, the sweet orange juice, some warm coffee, fresh fruit, and his favorite cereals.

You cooked it all for nothing... 'No!' You thought to yourself. 'He is just tired of all the pressure on him. Chan still loves me.' You notify yourself, cleaning the salty teardrops with the back of your hand.

In the afternoon you texted him 'Have a good afternoon of work, Love' but he didn't text back. It's ok, he is probably working -You thought.

Your baby, Mina, seemed very cheerful and talkative today. Flashing her gummy smile at you, whenever you cutely talked to her. Deciding to try another thing, you dressed her up with a cute pink dress and snapped some precious pictures.

'Do I look pretty?' You joked as you sent some pictures of her to your lover, and for your surprise... Chan replied immediately: 'My baby looks so pretty!'

You smiled as the idea of a new surprise to your lover came to your senses. As soon as the child was peacefully sleeping you dug in your wardrobe for something to wear.

After choosing the whole outfit, you decided to work on your new design for a while, so you could make some time to start cooking dinner.

Everything was ready at nine pm. You took a shower and were smelling like roses. The blue velvet dress was hugging your, now, less curvy body perfectly, making you feel confident. Even your make up was fire, simple but blue, making your hazel eyes sparkle.

In the kitchen there were candles everywhere, making a shady and dark but sensual environment drown the whole place as his favorite food was ready for him to eat as soon as he came home.

To your unhappiness, when Chan came home, it passed the five am and he was too tired to notice your romantic kitchen or the absence of your presence by his side in the bed.

You woke up in the kitchen a few minutes later. The candles still burning, the food now freezing and the house completely silent.

With your heart thumping stupidly fast, you thought something happened to Chan because there was no evidence of him. But you were mistaken.

As you silently footed inside the large bedroom, not to wake up the sleeping newborn, your eyes widened as you saw your husband dozing off on the king-sized bed.

How didn't he noticed that you weren't there? How didn't he noticed the kitchen carefully decorated with candles? Why did he only answer the texts about Mina and left yours? Why hasn't he said he loved you in months?

With burning tears rolling down your cheeks you walked back to the kitchen and began to clean it all. Halfway to all the dishes you were washing, you couldn't glimpse anything from the tears in your eyes and ended you falling asleep sitting on a chair, your head resting over your tear-stained dress.

Chan woke up the next morning, today, with a loving smile, the sunlight was brilliant, making the bedroom have a comfortable and warm atmosphere.

His muscular arm searched for your body, but his hands were only met with cold sheets. Chan immediately opened his eyes.

You weren't in the bedroom. Maybe you were in your creative room, so he walked over there to check. But you weren't there either.

Then he remembered that you love to shower in the morning, so, he walked to the bathroom, only to find silence. No sign of you.

It hit him there. Where were you? Why weren't you by his side?

With fast and worried steps he walked to the kitchen and as soon as his eyes recognized your figure, the tears were already blurring his vision.

There was a burned smell inside, and he recognized it because of the melted candles all around him. His eyes found cooked food at the top of the table and dirty dishes on the sink.

No, no.... He couldn't....

You were even worse: Your face was stained with dry make-up under your eyes and cheeks. Your dress was messy and your heavy breathing suddenly felt like punches in his stomach.

The blonde man picks up his phone and notices the little reminder '3 year marriage anniversary - yesterday'.

Chan falls on his knees in a silent cry. All the memories of what he has been doing making his heart break with blame.

All those months without a single 'I love you'; all those months without giving you the, so worth love... He missed you.

You woke up scared. An unknown sound of sobs filling your ears. The baby... You guessed immediately, but the sight of your husband on his knees by your side made you think twice.

"Chan," You called for him. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

As soon as he recognized your voice, his guilty eyes studied your worried face. He wasted no more time: Chan stood up on his feet and held your body tightly against his:

"I'm so sorry YN. I never meant to hurt you... I swear... I just- I know I have been neglecting you and it's all my fault...." He cried with his face hidden in your shoulder in shame. "I'm such a bad husband. I was so focused on our daughter that I forgot that you needed my love as well... I'm so sorry baby..."

By this time, you couldn't stop the tears from dropping from your stares. You wanted to inform him that its ok, that it doesn't matter, but it does.

You've felt so alone, so lonely...

"Chan..." You whispered fighting back a cry.

"I'm sorry... I will pay more attention to you." Chan said with his lungs full of air. "I love you so much YN. And I will show it to you more, I'll thank you every day, for loving me and for taking care of our daughter." His fingers were caressing your cheeks, and you leaned on his touch.

"I missed you so much, Channie..." You pouted.

"I missed you too, darling." Chan smiled and then proceeded to smooch your lips. Once, twice... until he was satisfied.

"I won't ever neglect you again, love. You are the of my life..." With those last words, you buried your face in the crook of his neck and inhaled his manly perfume, as you hugged him.

You've missed this. You've missed your husband. But it's all good now, he is finally here for you.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　 　*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

Note: Hello my stars, I'm here but I am not. I'm just passing by to drop this veryyyy long time stamp that I've promised my dear friend to post. I really enjoyed writing it! (I may had shed a tear while writing). Remember, notes and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you so much ♥ Good night (it's passing the 1am here hahA) I'm sorry if there is any mistakes, I'll revise it again tomorrow.　

[egg2k16]

40 Fanfic Q’s Answered

the server wants answers, and they want them now!!! from this post

1. Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Smut and pining all the way. Also, falling in love via laughing

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

Eh...I don’t think so, I’m always 100% self-indulgent, so what u see is what I want

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Anything that has to do w mega sadness, I just Don’t. I can’t write anything sad, and if I do, there’s certainly gonna be A Lot of comfort afterwards

4. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

I have 91 wips, motherfuckers!!! My latest wip is a daddy month fic!

5. Share one of your strengths.

I think, since I’ve been trying to be sparser in my words, I’ve been able to better emphasize what isn’t being said

6. Share one of your weaknesses.

No action scenes from me are ever good, lmao

7. Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

It was late at night, when he started to cry.

He didn't want to cry, but he did.

It's been years since he's last let himself feel, or was it since he was last allowed to feel?

He choked on his sobs, uncomfortable with his tears. He's forgotten how to properly cry. His entire body is shaking, and the connections between flesh and wire hurts.

He stops crying. He starts crying again.

This continues for another few minutes, until he feels as if he can't possibly have any more tears.

He wipes his face, pulls the covers up to his chin, and falls asleep.

(from Twilight on the Sea) I really like this bcus I don’t think I’ve ever really typed out crying in this way, n I tried to make it feel like it was a lot

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Cass was quiet for a moment. “... you know what? Maybe I’ll just go up there and surprise you.”

“If you do, then you already ruined the surprise, haven’t you?”

“Eh, I dunno about that. Seeing my beautiful face is a shock for many people.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.”

“Hey, Koda? I don’t know about you, but it’s really late here.”

“Really?” Koda asks, then remembers that time zones exist. “Oh crap, what time is it over there?”

“It’s midnight. What about you?”

“It’s eight o’clock. Only four hours difference?”

“Oh hey, that’s not so bad.”

“It reduces our time,” Koda said, a bit whining.

“Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“What are you going to do? Move here? Send for me?”

“You’ll see.”

(from Together) This was a gift for one my best friends on here, @suncatchr​ , and it’s about his ocs!!! I love this a lot bcus while it’s a soulmate au, it’s not ur average soulmate au, and I tried making it as original as possible! And this blurb, I just wanted them to effuse so much love w/o having to say love...cries

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

If this is by posted fics, then I remember writing Look What You’ve Done to Me was very very difficult, bcus, since it’s also a gift, for @daniel-bryan​ , I wanted to write it Good, n since my buddy usually wrote from the love interest’s pov, I felt a weird pressure to write Daniel Bryan’s pov as good as I could

10. Which fic has been the easiest to write?

2 of my fics in Spanish!!! My oc centric one, Rayos y Centellas, and my shyan one, oye cariño, solo pienso en ti ! Turns out writing in ur native tongue makes everything easier

11. Is writing your passion or just a fun hobby?

It’s a very passionate hobby!!! I just!!! try to pour all of my love into everything I write!!!

12. Is there an episode above all others that inspires you just a little bit more?

I’m not sure!!! I just watch movies n quietly scream to my gay lonesome bcus No One Ever Watches Movies ;-;

13. What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?

To just keep writing n not stop for details or forgotten lore, bcus it’s important to write down what’s firing u up Right Now. Of course, it’s very difficult following that ;;-;;

14. What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?

“No adverbs!” “No ‘said’!” “It has to make grammatical sense!” sometimes things Need those

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

Was gonna say my rewrite of the end of The Rover, but actually, my SPN fic Ube . Shit was peak inspired

16. If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?

Eridirk (Eridan Ampora/Dirk Strider from Homestuck) all the way. The one otp that’s stayed thru thick n thin <3

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

A little mix of both, and tbh it depends on the fic, but I tend to write chronologically

18. Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?

I’ve started bullet pointing my ideas out before writing my fics, and so far, it’s been helping me be more streamlined n get my things written out faster n clearer!

19. Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

Is the need for representation in all the niche movies I keep watching a muse?

20. Describe your perfect writing conditions.

In my dark room, w music blasting from my laptop, the TV w a soft hum, I have the perfect playlist to get the mood right, curled up in my blankies, n my plushie Sweet Pea by my side

21. How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Zero, we rely on autocorrect & editing while typing and die like men

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

YOU DON’T SEEM SCARED.

Del Rio shrugs. “Working as a cop, it makes you numb to some things. It’s good, it lets you react to things as you should, and not how you’d want to.”

YOU SOUND SAD ABOUT THAT.

He makes a noncommittal noise. “It is what it is.” He eats another spoonful of his ice cream, then gets a thought.

“Can you show up?”

HOW SO?

“Can you,” he tries, waving his spoon around, “Manifest?”

I DON’T KNOW. I’LL TRY.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” Del Rio assures, and he can feel the air around him smile. The...world, he thinks, around him shifts just slightly, and there seems to be a chink in the armor for a moment before it goes away, as if someone had wiped the glass clear. He realizes that this is her, trying to show up in a physical form, step out of the phone.

He doesn’t know where to look, but then his confusion wanes when a butterfly shows up, fluttering towards him. It lands near his phone, skitters a bit, flaps its wings.

“Lucy?” he asks, transfixed on the butterfly. Its orange wings are bright under the sunlight.

I THOUGHT I’D TRY SMALL, FOR MY FIRST TRIAL.

“Well, you certainly nailed it.” He smiled warmly at the butterfly, and he had the crazy notion that it smiled back at him.

(adapted from The Policeman , the first fic I posted!)

23. If you were to revise one of your older fics from start to finish, which would it be and why?

Yeah, probably The Policeman lmao, I remember it today n I cringe a little at the very obvious refs to other fandoms I made. Despite that, it continues being one of my best hits!

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Never

25. What do you look for in a beta?

I’m just thankful to have gotten a beta in general in life at all

26. Do you beta yourself? If so, what kind of beta are you?

I beta’ed once, and since English is my 2nd language, I pointed out syntax confusion, typos, n continuity errors

27. How do you feel about collaborations?

Can be done, it’s just that I am frightened. Tried doing that, it fell thru, n the new thing that came up, I still have to hold up my end of the bargain ;;-;;

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

cries omg ok so!!! Chancy_Lurking ( @lurkerviolin​ ) is one of my faves, n we’ve become friends, n their Felix+ Sense8 series is the reason for it all, and u know it’s good if it managed to make a friendship that’s last its good while, and also they’re so nice, and we vibe so well!!! thegoatz ( @daniel-bryan​ ) is also now one of my bestest friends ever, and I wuv him so much, he is such a good kid, n he’s so enthusiastic about writing, and I hope that spark never goes out!!! And adamwhatareyouevendoing ( @skatingthinandice​ ) bcus she’s doing a rewrite of The Last Kingdom where it’s all gay where it should be and vnjkdfsnvkd God, what a wonderful friend!!!

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I actually technically am working on a sequel to @rettaroo​ ‘s A New Kind of Touch ! Another promise I have to hold up eventually ;;;-;;;

30. Do you accept prompts?

Sure!

31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

I try to follow canon as much as I possibly can!

32. How do you feel about smut?

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

33. How do you feel about crack?

Eh, it’s alright. I don’t normally look for it, so I don’t really have a solid opinion on it

34. What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?

I don’t want to read it, but I have so far encountered it twice very amicably: once here in a ficlet, and another in a longer fic on AO3, and they were both very good

35. Would you ever kill off a canon character?

Probably not, I don’t like sad things!

36. Which is your favorite site to post fic?

AO3! I’m RedLlamas on it!

37. Talk about your current wips.

Lmao which one. The one I’m currently working on is an impregnation kink turned “oh no I actually do wanna have a family” feelings fic!

38. Talk about a review that made your day.

Gonna be real w u, the best comments I’ve gotten have mainly been from my friends, who either write a paragraph or two going into detail of the fic, or just send a one sentence comment that’s just “screams!” I’ve gotten very few paragraphs from other people, n they’re always so!!!

My friends are the realest :’)

39. Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?

The perks of being a rarepair writer is that the only people who read my fics are the ones actively looking for content!!! And they can’t complain about my work because No One Else Is Writing For It!!!!!!

40. Write an alternative ending to [insert fic title] (or just the summary of one).

All my fics are masterpieces, so I’ll do a summary change! For don’t you just know (exactly what they’re thinking?)

Dakota finds himself in unexpected heartbreak, and the universe decides to bring him in the direction of a night club with a dancer with stars on his skin.

[austenpoppy]

A review of "The Wonderful Won-Won" chapter 4 (part 1 because I'm a fangirl)

@hillnerd I said I would do it after my exams to take the time to say all I wanted to say and so do justice to your work, so here I am ! I always keep my promises. But Tumblr would not let me reblog this particular chapter, that's why I had to do a separate post.

Edit : I have seen your post about your father. I send you my best regards and all the hugs. I know it is hard. Love you. I know it's not much but I hope it will cheer you up a bit.

So if you want to find the chapter I'm talking about, go see Hillnerd's blog or follow this link : https://m.fanfiction.net/u/666390/

I recommend you all the other fics written by Hillnerd, they're fantastic.

So... yeah, my reaction to your chapter when I read it for the first time...

OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! OH MY GOD ! Oh mon Dieu !

I'm smiling, a huge grin on my face even if nobody can see it because I'm alone, in my student room, at 2am and I'm too lazy to revise. I'm squealing on my bed, my face is tear-strained because I cried, and I feel very emotional. I swear, my heart swelled at least twice its size !

This is definitely one of my favorite chapters in fanfiction ever.

Let's go back in time to see what happened :

"The brain's tentacles were ripping him to shreds and reality was warping around him as an unsteady pulse echoed in his ears. Spiders the size of houses walked over him while their young devoured his limbs, leaving him unable to move. Powerful convulsions constricted his chest and air bellowed over his shredded lungs. All he could feel was pain, a tangible darkness, and the sensation of being drowned, but backwards?"

It feels so realistic. You got all the sensations of being in great pain yet being unable to move. I especially love "the unsteady beat in his ears". The spider anecdote makes me shudder. How awful !

"The only real thing he could think about, besides the pain, was her. What was her name again?"

Oh man, Hermione is on his mind and in his heart at all time, even in his darkest hour. She's the only thing that can take his mind off pain *eyes water*

The convulsions struck again and again. He longed to be able to lose himself in the darkness, but something kept tethering him to the unimaginable pain. He was drowning again, and his limbs were back, stiff as lead.

No no no my Ronnie is suffering so much he wants to black out, and what if the darkness meant death ? How come this is totally canon ? How come I enjoy this ?

If he could only say her name one time, maybe all of this would end? It almost seemed like an answer to a riddle. He just couldn't think what the riddle was or what the name was he should say. It was like trying to hold a fist full of sand, with each grain slipping through his fingers until he only had a few grains left.

Argh, my little Romione heart. Touché. He tries to hold on to her, the key to happiness, the light in the dark, the fire of comfort.

"How long was he—"

It's nothing really. A tiny sentence. But the fact that the person who said it was unable to finish it is just so perfect, so moving - as if the idea of Ron suffering was unthinkable. *eyes water again*

Why could he not control his body?

Oh god, I know this frustration. Your writing is so moving, you are able to convey so much feelings in the simplest sentences.

Ron did as he was told, even though the light was so bright he could feel it throbbing in time with his heartbeat. A loud ringing tone pulsed in his ears, high and sharp.

I can feel exactly what he is speaking about.

"Can I… Can I touch him?" his Mum ask Pomfrey, sounding teary.

Aaaaaaaah you got me again. The hesitation in her voice when she probably wants nothing more, when she probably craves to touch him... That's it, my vision is blurry, I need to take a tissue (fortunately there's a box on my bedside table)

Ron tried to form a word, any word, to say to his mother, but as soon as he could so much as rasp a coughing fit took him. It rattled and tore through him unlike any cough he'd ever had before. Dark red blood exploded from his lungs and splattered the matron's apron. His lungs rattled as cough after cough shook his chest and tore through his throat.

I just felt a pain in my heart. A pang. It's so heartwrenching to see him suffer like this.

Ron had to concentrate, but was able to barely wiggle them and they felt whole enough.

Oh Ron, how can you make me laugh in a moment like this ?

He tried to wipe the back of his arm across his mouth, but his arm just wouldn't move off the bed, lamely twitching at his side. A slimy trail of sputum and blood oozed out of his mouth, but Pomfrey wiped it away with a handkerchief.

All is in the details. I'm picturing Ron, unable to move, his eyes open and unfocus, a trail of blood flowing from his mouth that he can't even wipe and MY HEART CAN'T TAKE IT.

"We love you, sweet boy. We love you so much,"

Yes ! Give him love ! All the love ! I love you too Ron !

Ron began to panic as he tried again and again to make words. He couldn't. Tears came to his eyes and he started to breathe hard.

Nooo he can't speak my poor little Ronnie he must be so afraid and nooo he has tears in his eyes, my heart felt another pang why are you so good at this ?! That's it, I need a pause because I am actually crying. I am sniffing in my bed, tears have rolled off my cheeks and dampered the mattress. Damn you !

Ron tried desperately to say yes, but all that came out what a strange sound similar to the ghoul that lived in his attic. He tried to nod his head but it wouldn't do what he said and just barely moved to the wrong direction. What was wrong with him? He was trapped. Trapped in his own body unable to say or do anything!

I just want to hug you so much Ron. I can't but I really, really want to. That's one of the worst things in the world, being conscious but not being able to do anything.

"You are alright. What you are experiencing is temporary. You will be able to speak later. Maybe in a few hours. This is not permanent. The part of your brain that forms speech is injured, but will be healed - probably by the time you wake up tomorrow. You will regain movement in your body as well, but that might take longer before it's completely healed. Do you understand, Ron?"

You are such a good healer Mrs Pomfrey. And you need a raise.

"The bleeding will continue on and off again the next few days."

How come people think that the Bezoar erased every consequence possible of the poison ? Ron did not spend so much time in the infirmary for nothing !

"Hermione was here?" Ron asked, trying to sit up as quickly as he could. Instead his head rose off the pillow a few centimeters and he weakly collapsed back onto the bed. He gave another attempt to sit up, but the Matron of the hospital wing made it impossible to succeed.

He seems so surprised it is awful but so sweet. The fact that he tried to sit up twice pulled at my heartstrings.

"Did Hermione seem upset?" Ron blurted before realizing it was Pomfrey he was asking.

God the sweetheart somebody helps me !

Your heart stopped, and you weren't breathing for a few minutes, so it might take a bit for your memory to be back to normal.

HIS HEART STOPPED ! HE WAS NOT BREATHING ! OH MY FUCKING ALLMIGHTY GOD !

What happened? Why am I in the hospital? Who visited? Who poisoned me? Will I be ok? Was Hermione here? Where are everyone? Was Hermione upset? Is everyone else ok? Where's Harry? When can I leave? Will I be able to play quidditch? What potions do I have to take? Where is Hermione? Should there be all this blood? Are you sure this is normal? When will I be able to walk again? How am I going to the bathroom? Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk? When will I be able to sit up on my own? Why can't I use my hands? Do I still have to do my homework? Can't I drink more water than that? When can I eat? Can Hermione visit me again?

Oh. My. God. My heart swelled. I am once again crying thank you very much my bed is now full of dirty tissues. But like, this list is one of the sweetest and most heartbreaking things ever. I need to squeal. So I put my phone aside and do just that (which means rolling in my bed, laughing and probably looking like a maniac). "Did anyone but my parents see me when I couldn't talk ?". How perfectly insecuringly Ron that is (yes I invent words and no I don't care) ? "Is everybody else okay ?" . Man you just got poisoned, you are in unberable pain and you still ask for everybody else ? You're just so... so caring and I love you ! "Can Hermione visit me again ?" God the sweetest of sweethearts 2.

He coughed and felt some blood beginning to make its way down his throat. 

Somebody do something ! My little Ronnie ! Bad, bad Draco !

How could one person look so perfect and make him feel magically better?

He's so in loooove. That's why I love Romione : the raw love and painful need for each other.

 Well, better besides the feeling that he was choking on blood and couldn't fight off a possessed scrambled egg if he had to.

How dare you make me laugh again ? A possessed scrambled egg *snorts loudly*... I'm laughing through my watery eyes...

...he couldn't help but smile.

That's my sweetest of sweethearts Ron 3. He is in pain yet he smiles because the person he loves most is there and he's my little sun.

Last thing he wanted was the sight of bloody teeth sending Hermione away.

*snorts again* *then feels her heart pang again because it's an horribly sad piece of humor*

Ron could vaguely recall reading something about a poisoning, so nodded, hoping that would leave him alone with Hermione.

*shakes her head and smiles* That's so Ron. He just wants to be with the people he cares about.

"You're really here," Ron smiled hopefully. He thought he'd never have Hermione to himself again. She was biting her lip with worry, but she was there. She was beautiful, though a bit paler than usual. Was she in the hospital wing because she was injured? "How are you feeling?"

FOR F*CKS'S SAKE ! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME ! SH*T ! I NEED ANOTHER TISSUE ! AND I AM NOT HALFWAY THROUGH THE CHAPTER ! P*tain de b*rdel de m*rde ! It is so incredibly perfect and moving and Romione-y. The fact that Ron does not believe his eyes that she cares for him, that he smiles hopefully, that he thinks he would never be with her again, the fact that Hermione is biting her lip but does not say anything, and the selflessness of Ron who as usual does not think about himself at all but worries about his loved ones even though he just got poisoned...

"Better, now that you're awake."

My Romione heart swelled again.

Her hand gently made its way into his, sending a thrill through him like the first time he'd ever ridden a broom. He tried to squeeze it hard back, partly to ground himself that this was real, and partly to let her know something of how happy he was to see her, but all he could manage was a limp clammy hold. She didn't say anything to him, simply putting another hand on top of his one weak one.

I am at a loss for words. I am just so emotional. This image of them together is exactly why I love Romione so much. It is very poignant and moving.

"So… I kind of lied. I don't entirely remember what's been going on… I just wanted to see you," Ron said quietly.

At this point I just want to cherish this chapter forever and I definitely need another box of tissues, so I stand up and go search it. It's the "quietly" that actually killed me : picturing Ron, searching Hermione's eyes, whispering this to her is so sweet.

"Oh shit! Please don't leave. I'm so glad you're here. It's fine… I can catch up on this crap later."

He is so emotionally open I just... Hermione, cherish this boy.

He honestly didn't care if he sounded pathetic or desperate. She was the one thing he could hold on to when time was bending, and he wasn't sure of what was real and not.

My Romione heart does not thank you for the emotional roller-coster.

"I'm not going anywhere,"

Aaaah Hermione you pulled at my heartstrings. No, not you too ! I have enough heart pangs with Ron thanks !

"Sorry I'm so stupid right now. I just can't seem to keep a hold of things in my mind for long."

There self-depreciating Ron goes again... Like, am I hallucinating, or is he actually apologizing for not being well after having been poisoned ?? #Rontheboywhoapologizesforeverything

"You're far from stupid," Hermione said with her trademark scowl, and he grinned at that. "You were nearly killed. You had anoxia, where your brain didn't get enough oxygen. It's literal brain damage."

Yes, Hermione ! Tell him he's great ! Prevent him from being self-depreciating ! I love it so much when people let their appreciation of him shine through ! And she's so cute when she gets so anxious and worried that she has to ramble about facts, explain things and expose her knowledge !

He almost laughed at being brain damaged, but tears began to pool in her eyes.

Again so perfectly Romione-y. Ron sees the funny side of things, or the sadly funny side of things when he gets self-depreciating, and Hermione cries because she saw all the implications.

If it weren't for magic you might not be able to remember anything ever again, or talk, or move, and could have been mentally infirm the rest of your life. It wouldn't have been temporary. You'd not be yourself and I just — I just can't stand the thought that-that someone as alive and as - as wonderful as you could ever be struck down and unable to be yourself and I was so so afraid I was going to lose you and the last things I ever said to you were-were horrible, and I just —"

Oh my Romione. And my eyes are watering again. She's so devastated at the idea of a tetraplegic or diminished Ron, and I am too, that's the wrongest thing ever in fanfiction; and she's using the world "alive" to describe Ron and that fits him so well, and she feels so guilty that's awful even if it pleases me a little (I hate it so much when in fanfiction Hermione "accepts" to forgive Ron for Lavender. 😒)

"Oh, Hermione, don't—" he said while weakly raising his arms as high as he could so she'd come into them. 

My HEART ! YOU STABBED ME ! I NEED A F*CKING TISSUE AGAIN HE'S SO CARING AND SWEET !

~ Squealing time interruption ~

Hermione needed facts and figures to comfort her. "Hey, according to this parchment, I'm going to be ok, right?"

He knows exactly what to say to makes her feel better and that's instinctive. That's my Ron and I love him.

She gave a great wet sniff and nodded, though she looked even paler than before.

They're so terribly cute together. Hug her Ron, my girl needs it badly !

He'd have to humiliate himself a bit to get her to laugh, but it would be worth it.

So you are once again going to be very self-sacrificing, okay Ron, but what are you talking about ? How could you...

"And apparently there are some spells in place, so we don't have to worry I'll wet myself in the bed, even though I'm so mentally infirm," he said with a conspiratorial grin.

*jaw drops, eyes water (my fucking god I really am a mess and I look like I just had a heartbreak but okay), heart swells with enough Ron-love to fill a swimming pool*

~ squealing time interruption ~

Okay, I'm extremely moved and that's for a very personal reason. I have had 16 general anaesthesias in my life, yet I have always refused, even when I was seven, to use bedpans to... you know, because I am so proud; I hate admitting weakness and that felt so degrading, even if it's totally normal; so for Ron to humiliate himself like that just to make Hermione laugh is quite extraordinary and extremely selfless. I would never have done that.

End of part 1

[prorevenge]

She hated me and made me think I was an idiot.

LTRFTP

I don't know if this is pro, but it is certainly more than petty.

In high school (10+ years ago), I was quiet and attentive in class. Teachers liked me. I wasn't popular, but I had good friends. I say all this to explain that high school was relatively calm for me. I played sports, was on the student newspaper, and got decent grades. However, that all changed my second semester junior year.

I've always been a voracious reader. My freshman English teacher recommended I move up to the honors English track, so I did for freshman, sophomore, and the first half of junior year. Then I was put into Classical Literature my second semester junior year. I've always loved Greek and Roman stories, and had already read your typical high school classical reading list on my own. I didn't mind reading them again until I met Ms. Umbridge. She put on a sweet facade, but she was downright evil. She also decided she hated me. I still do not know why, or what transgression I committed, but she HATED me. I assume it was my habit of sometimes nodding off in classes. At the time, I had undiagnosed thyroid issues, and was getting up at 5 a.m. for swim practice. I say sometimes, because it happened maybe twice a month total between all eight classes. I don't remember nodding off in her class, but it could have happened.

Anyways, her class was 50% essays/written reports. The rest were random quizzes and a couple tests. I was on the student newspaper, and I was a decent writer. I wasn't worried about maintaining a B or up. We wrote our first paper, and I got a D. I was shocked. The only class I struggled in was Chemistry and still my lowest assignment grade was a C.

After class, I asked Ms. Umbridge what I did wrong, because her notes were minimal. She told me my assessment of the material was "uninspired." Okay....Can you direct me to an example of an inspired assessment? "Come back during study hall." Thinking she'd have some example materials for me to review, I got a pass to see her during study hall. Nope. She spent the full hour basically telling me I was an idiot. I remember leaving and crying, because she didn't tell me anything constructive. My friend (the eventual valedictorian) offered to help me on my next paper.

My friend and I spent hours on my next paper. She never got below an A- on anything. I got another D. My friend was furious. She took it to her AP English teacher and asked him to review it. She said she was entering a writing competition and wanted advice. He said it was great. Her typical A+ work. My friend, quicker on the uptake, asked me for a copy of my original assignment. She asked her AP English teacher to look it over too, and he said she should enter the first one. This one was still good. He'd probably give it an A-, but the other paper was better. My friend was convinced Ms. Umbridge was treating me unfairly for some reason, and she must not like me. My friend wanted me to tell my parents or my school counselor. A teacher didn't like me? That had never happened. Sure they didn't all love me, but none had actively disliked me. I decided I'd try one more time, but this time get Ms. Umbridge to help me.

Despite the previous horrors of spending study hall with Ms. Umbridge, I went to her office during study hall three times before the next paper was due. She reviewed the paper, and gave me tips on revising it each time. She did this in red pen. I took notes. By the time the next paper was due, I had three revised versions with her notes in red ink on each one. I got a D+. She smirked and congratulated me on my improvement. Bitch. I was done. My friend was right. This bitch had it out for me and was giving me shit grades on purpose.

I'm a laid-back person, but I was pissed. Never before been this pissed. I took my paper to my newspaper teacher. Sure he didn't teach English, but our student paper constantly won awards because of his work. I told him I was having trouble in English, and could he please look over my paper and give me advice. He was a little confused as to why I didn't ask my English teacher, but he did it. He also told me it was great, but gave me a few minor changes to make. I asked him if he thought it was a B or better. He said he'd give it an A, not 100%, but a solid A.

I went to my friend, and we brainstormed. I couldn't request a drop/add. This wasn't college. You just don't switch classes at my high school, unless the teacher recommends an honor placement. That's not true said my friend. The football and basketball guys get moved to easier classes all the time to keep their grades up, so they are eligible for games. The athletics director was a friend of my dad, so I requested a meeting with him and my swim coach after school one day. I told them I was in danger of losing my eligibility to swim, because I was pulling a D in a class. I wanted to move classes, but I knew I'd need approval from administration, which I wouldn't get without a good reason. They asked if I had requested help. I explained I had asked for help from multiple people, but my grade wasn't improving. I didn't know what to do. They asked to see my papers. I sat while they read them. They both looked at me confused. Neither of them could understand how those papers were worth only a D. The student VP was brought in. He asked who helped me. I explained my friend (he knew who she was, again future valedictorian), and she had even asked her AP English teacher to look it over for advice. I had also asked my newspaper teacher to help me. Student VP asked if I had ever actually asked my teacher for help. I smiled and handed him the three revised versions of paper number three with Ms. Umbridge's red ink all over them. He frowned. AP English teacher and my newspaper teacher were pulled into the meeting. They were each asked to grade the papers. All three papers got an A- or better.

While this was going on, my dad was called in by the athletics director. My dad was pissed. He demanded I be moved to another class, and that Ms. Umbridge be put under review. Clearly, she wasn't grading students on their work but on her own personal opinions. The school administration obviously bristled at the accusation that a teacher was treating students unfairly. A lot of arguing that I wasn't allowed to sit on occurred in the VP's office. I could hear plenty of yelling as six adult men argued over the appropriate next steps. It was decided that myself, my dad, VP, and athletics director would have a meeting with Ms. Umbridge.

The following morning before school we all met. Ms. Umbridge seemed to think she was going to get to tell everyone why I was so stupid. VP explained that if I maintained a D in her class, I would lose my extracurricular eligibility, and we were all meeting to discuss what to do. She smirked and said I should be moved to the non-honors English track, and I had no business being in honors English. I didn't have the aptitude to understand the complex classical literature they were studying, and I probably would need a tutor to even get through basic English. I've never seen my father so red, and I half expected to see steam come out of his ears. VP asked why she didn't try to help me improve. She said it was up to students to put in the initiative to get better. VP asked if that meant I had never asked her for help. She said I had not. VP then pulled out the three revised versions of paper number three and handed them to Ms. Umbridge. Now it was her turn to be red. She called me a liar and said those notes weren't hers. Things got heated, and I was asked to leave again. I sat outside the office. This time the secretary was there, and we both heard the shouting. School was set to start in 30 minutes, and they were all just shouting. Then AP English teacher and newspaper teacher were called in again. More shouting. About 5 minutes to the start of classes, the teachers left and I was called back in. If looks could kill, I'd have died then and there when Ms. Umbridge walked out of VP's office. I was being moved to basic English effective immediately. My current grade would not carry over. I would not need to make up any past assignments, and new teacher would be instructed to grade me only on the assignments going forward.

My new English teacher, Ms. Honey, ended up being the English department head. She was at least 65, and had been doing this for decades. After 2.5 years of honors English, this class was easier than PE. I barely had to try to get an A, but I refused to let Ms. Honey think Ms. Umbridge had been right. I tried harder in that class than any other class that semester. I finished projects so quickly that I was asked to tutor a girl struggling in the class. I spent half the class period just helping this girl understand the material. I helped her go from a C- to a B+. I got something like 104% in the class.

At the end of the semester, Ms. Honey called me into her office during study hall. She was recommending I return to honors English for senior year. I must have looked panicked, because she assured me Ms. Umbridge would not be my teacher. In fact, she would not be anyone's teacher. She was leaving at the end of the school year. Ms. Umbridge was only in her late 20's and unmarried. Too early to retire. And my high school was in one of the best paying school districts in the state. I knew what leaving meant, but Ms. Honey still explained that I was put in her class on purpose. The school administration trusted Ms. Honey to determine the truth of Ms. Umbridge's claim that I was basically a lying idiot. Ms. Honey stated I very clearly belonged in honors English. She apologized if her class had not been challenging enough for me. I cried. I mean full on ugly, snot cried. I didn't realize it, but part of me had actually believed Ms. Umbridge up until that moment. Ms. Honey hugged me and consoled me. I spent senior year in honors English and spent my study hall tutoring Ms. Honey's struggling students.

To this day, I think about that awful woman fairly regularly. My career is strongly writing based, and I still worry obsessively over my writing. I hope she never taught again, because she wrecked wreaked havoc on my self-confidence.

(source) (story by deleted)

[marshmallow-fireside-keith]

Pregnant Keith Fic Catalogue

(Mobile Edition)

About this list:

This list is meant to be an exhaustive, one-stop-shop for those looking for pregnant Keith (in the Sheith pairing, for now. I am open to other pairings if people would like this) fics. This is NOT a recc list. This is a catalogue. The works on this list are not sorted by taste, nor user, nor bias. Like a library catalogue, every fic (that I have been made aware of/ found) that contains the premise ‘pregnant Keith’ in some fashion is included. This list took hours sorting through multiple tags, so that you, the reader do not have to. If a fic is missing, please let me know, as this is meant to be an updated post. The ONLY reason it would be missing would be me not finding it, messing up, or not knowing about it. Any and all fics are welcome here, as long as they meet the basic content requirement of pregnant Keith.

If you see your fic on here and want it taken down, or edited, please also let me know!

Thank you all! Let me know if you’d like an Omega Keith version of this. That will take considerably longer, but if y’all want it, I’m happy to put it together.

Current as of: July 9, 2018

Omega-Zero by PackThePack @packthepack

It’s not easy, feeling like a stranger on your own body. It is confusing and throat-tying. It makes you want to crawl out of your skin, while wanting to crawl inside as much as possible. Small enough so you would almost disappear. It is hazy and cold, and it is shallow. The feeling of being left alone with yourself without a way to escape was no tender company. But right now it was the only company Keith had.

The Moon Hangs Low by newtype @?

While traveling with the Blade of Marmora recovering Zarkon's former territory, Keith reaches the cusp of Galran maturity as soon-to-be fertile omega. Concerned for his well-being, Ulaz sends Shiro with Keith to an isolated sanctuary bathhouse to observe his heats. Accepting the offer, the two finally find themselves with the privacy they've been long waiting for.

Skip the Pleasentries by FullmetalReborn @omggiogiothings​

Staring at the cow on the other end of the pregnancy test, giving him a creepy smile with white luscious hair, (Pidge had some damn weird tastes but the saint actually went to purchase them for him so he couldn't complain) makes him want to strangle past him. Pidge sat down by his starfished body and looked at the stick (‘I peed on it. Please don't put it so close to your face.’) “Looks like you have a little gremlin.”

Within These Final Hours by orphan_account

Okay so, I've been writing this for the past three weeks and now that it's done I can finally start posting and writing my OTHER Voltron fic. As someone who has watched the old Voltron series, I was both excited and slightly unnerved when I heard the show was being remade. Remakes tend to be pretty awful... But thankfully, this one is pretty damn awesome. The second season is making me nervous though...Swear if anything happens to Shiro, I'm gonna lose it.

Anyway, I'll post chapters twice a week, on Wednesdays and Saturdays. Pretty standard Omega!Verse fic, as well as some Galra!Kieth stuff... But yeah, I can't promise any specific time, probably going to be around noon usually - Chicago time zone -, but I just finished proofreading chapter one - with some slight revision - and I decided to post it now. But here, take this sin, there will be smut in later chapters. This entire fic will be completely posted by the 20th.

I should have the next one finished and I can start posting a new fic. I hope you guys enjoy, constructive criticism is welcomed but please be kind with your words. I tend to react badly to cruel words.

I am also in dire need of a beta! If anyone is interested, please contact me at BaoziiBoi@gmail.com

Thanks everyone, I'm excited to finally start sharing my works. Remember, I am but a smol 16 year old, so my writing style is sill in development. I am by no means a professional and I do not intend on chasing a profession in this field. This is for fun and I would like to keep it that way.

Bearing by Jibbly @jibblyuniverse

Maybe the pressure of being leader of Voltron is getting to him.

All of these thoughts are in the back of his mind, when Kolivan calls for help.

His resources are thinning out, and he asks for a lion. Keith offers himself instead. Much to the surprise of the team. Shiro standing in the center of the control deck with a look of disappointment in his eyes.

Kolivan hesitates, before agreeing to letting Keith come to train at the Blade of Mamora.

Day Eleven: Peridot by bandgeek1stbassclarinet

Peridots are traditionally given to celebrate 16 years of marriage.

He can't bake, but he'd be a hell of a dad. by Golden_Asp @?

Keith and Shiro have been trying for a baby since returning to Earth. Maybe this heat will be the one that it finally happens.

ABO AU, post saving the universe.

Lonely Star by keithyourpal @keithyourpal

Takashi's death brings Ryou and Keith together, and in the following year they help each other make peace and rebuild their lives--until Keith goes missing.

Two Plus Twins by NoNotThat

Prequel to Twins Plus One!

Shiro and Keith are going to be parents and Shiro has to deal with mood swings first hand.

Akira by Tay (erentitanjaeger) @?

Shiro returns home to his mate and one-day old child.

Cursed by Al_D_Baran @?  

Keith investigates to find the Beast that terrorises his husband's lordship.

Miracles and Blessings by Gootbuttheichou@?

My Sheithlentines gift for Pinfuyu/XuanPinku!

If the Silence Takes You by keithyourpal@keithyourpal

Sven recovers after helping Team Voltron secure the trans-reality comet. Desperate to get back into the line of duty, his recklessness leads to his capture by the Alteans.

You Fight with a Galra Soldier by laterie @babe-in-red

Keith is not able to fight, but Shiro certainly is.

The Reasons I Scream at Night by ThirteenSocks @safeautistickeith

Shiro is a veteran returning from a year in captivity and trying to piece his life back together. Keith is an immigrant from the stars. They meet at the café Keith works at. But no sooner have they fallen in love does Shiro accidentally get Keith pregnant.

Between Shiro dealing with his PTSD and Keith with his adjusting to the new culture, the two find they must lean on each other to navigate having a baby on the way.

But life is never so simple, as their pasts come back to haunt them, and the war everyone thought was over was only just beginning.

Arc: Sine: Chapter 1-29 Complete

Arc: Cosine: Chapter 31-?

Reasons .5 by ThirteenSocks @safeautistickeith

Shiro curved his left palm around the jut of a hip. His thumb nearly reaches halfway across the small back, the rest of his fingers getting brushed a heavy cock that bounces with his thrusts. He took another risk that ”mentally present” him would soon enough chastise himself for. He threaded metals fingers through the base of Keith’s thick, silky braid, and jerked back. Keith cried out again. Using the new leverage, Shiro drew him back like a bow; hauling his hips upwards as far as they would go, and creating the dip in his back by the grip on his hair.

Strip Me of Shame by laterie @babe-in-red

"Don't do this to me."

Keith’s anger launched a disaster. His need to find the answers is rising to the point, where Shiro is losing his control over the Red Paladin and their lives. A whole new universe is opening for Keith. Will he find his real home?

Aurulent by drrkrbbt @?

An "accident" in the middle of the night turns a lot more interesting than Keith had expected.

The Long Way Back by fio @?

As a gladiator, and now Champion, Shiro has given up hope of ever returning to Earth. But when his captors deliver his 'prize'—an omega, a descendant of both Galran and Altean blood used by the Galra to breed with the strongest aliens they capture—he's offered a chance to escape.

There's just one catch: Shiro has to get him pregnant to do it.

Happy Accidents by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics) @shirosredknight

Keith’s never understood the term ‘happy accident’. It’s too much of an oxymoron because how can an accident be happy? It just didn’t seem possible.

But that was before now.

Weekend at Pidge’s by chocolatemoosey @chocolatemoosey​

Keith took Shiro gently by the jaw and pulled him into a kiss, “She’s fine. Hunk and Lance are there with her – between the three of them, I think things are gonna be okay.”

Meanwhile, at the other paladins' house: “THINGS ARE DEFINITELY NOT OKAY."

Pidge, Lance, and Hunk have offered to watch Keith and Shiro's toddler for a night while the couple celebrates their anniversary. Add a hostage situation to the mix and things go about as well as expected.

Inherit the Stars by Masrrkan @souais

It's time that Keith moved on with life, one that was full of happiness, his husband, and his son.

(Fic was originally posted before s5. So no Lotor or Matt. This is canon divergent past s4 and doesn't fully mesh with the current story in the show.)

A Single Step by bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies @bouquetofwhoopsiedaises

After the war with the Galra Empire finished, Keith and Shiro settled down on a nice planet together and started a small, happy family. Then, their daughter was kidnapped, and they spent years searching for her. When they find her, she is scared and volatile, a feral creature that needs to be taught how to trust again. Luckily, her dads are ready to help her every step of the way, even if those steps are slow to come. A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Gredelin by AccordionOwl @accordionowl

A story about how Shiro and Keith deepening their relationship and Keith realizing something about his galra heritage as things starts to happen to his body.

The Beast That Eats Its Tail by kittypox @kittypox

Retiring from the coalition is easier said than done, even in Keith's condition. Even with his mighty alpha mate protecting him, he somehow still manages to get caught in the midst of the coalition's war with the rebel group, The Hand of Krell. Time is not on the coalition's side as they struggle to squash the power vacuum and discover how the paladins are linked to the mysterious beast the rebels worship. Keith does not know what this 'Beast That eats It Tail' is and why the rebels are so keen on feeding him to it, but he does not intend on finding out.

Leaving It All Behind bykittypox @kittypox

There are reasons to turn from war. Settled in his stomach, Keith finds his one reason to not only turn from the war effort, but to abandon Voltron and his mate.

[sufferthesea]

Tagged by my sweet @pyroinquisitor​ ! Thank you!!

THE LAST

1. drink: Water! I have 7 water bottles in my room and I try to drink at least 4 of them a day.  2. phone call: AHAHAHA LIKE I TALK ON THE PHONE. (Actually, today I answered a call from my mom and almost ripped my thumb nail off on the chair trying to get to the phone.)  3. text message: I haven’t bought minutes for my phone so my last text was in June, saying “Your service ends soon”.  4. song you listened to: What Kind of Man by Florence + the Machine 5. time you cried: Teary-eyed or tears running down my face? Teary-eyed, today. Actual crying, ??? not sure!  6. dated someone twice: Nope! I’ve never dated!  7. kissed someone and regretted it: Theatre kisses don’t count (and neither do kisses on the cheek??), so I’ve never kissed anyone.  8. been cheated on: No 9. lost someone special: Yes. Many people.  10. been depressed: Yes. Gotta love that Frosty Fresh Depression  11. gotten drunk and thrown up: Never been drunk!  

3 FAVOURITE COLOURS

12. Purple 13. Yellow 14. Soft pastels and earth tones 

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU

15. made new friends: Yes!! 💖 16. fallen out of love: Yes! Good riddance! 👋 17. laughed until you cried: Yes!  18. found out someone was talking about you: Yep! But the people they were talking to stopped being friends with them and now want to be my friend 😂 19. met someone who changed you: Hmmm, I think so?  20. found out who your friends are: Yes!  21. kissed someone on your facebook list: If stage kisses and kisses on the cheek count, then yes! That’d be like 20 ppl 😂😂 

GENERAL

22. how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: Almost all of them! Most are family, high school friends, and college friends.  23. do you have any pets: Yes, a dog! He’s old and grumpy but I love him. I used to have a bearded dragon named Sylar and I miss him dearly.  24. do you want to change your name: Sometimes, but I really like it because it’s unique even tho it’s unisex and also a surname... and no one can say it correctly.... and I never see it anywhere....  25. what did you do for your last birthday: I can’t remember? My bday is close to my sister’s and dad’s, and it was close to my graduation so I think we had a combo birthday-grad dinner.  26. what time did you wake up: Alarms at 7.30am and 8am, and I woke up at 9am (-:  27. what were you doing at midnight last night: Showering 28. name something you can’t wait for: To get another first draft of my original story done. Plot revision is a motivation killer.  29. when was the last time you saw your mom: Like 30min ago when I went to the kitchen.   30 has disappeared. RIP.  31. what are you listening to right now: Pity Party by MelMar.  32. have you ever talked to a person named Tom: I knew a kid whose middle name was Tom, so yes!  33. something that is getting on your nerves: My own procrastination.  34. most visited website: YouTube, Tumblr, FB, gmail  35. hair colour: My hair is kinda weird bc of my parents. But it’s really dark brown (from my mom) with gold and red (from my mom’s mom and dad)?? And then I have chunks of blonde from when I bleached it and had purple, pink, and blue highlights.  36. long or short hair: It’s medium but I want to grow it back to how it used to be. I used to have the longest hair at my school (to my waist)! I miss it a lot.  37. do you have a crush on someone: NO!! No one real anyway. Fictional characters? Always. Choose a show or game and I probably have a crush on one of the characters.  38. what do you like about yourself: I like what other people have said about me: I’m the most compassionate person they’ve met; I have good energy; I’m easy to talk to. I also like that I am able to write and draw fairly well. (-:  39. want any piercings: Yes but I haven’t had a good experience with my past piercings. There’s a piercing/tattoo artist I know and trust but he’s sooooo far away ))-:  40. blood type: idek  41. nickname: Immy, Bee, C.B., Hoe, literally sooo many but most are family-only nicknames. Some old nicknames are Sensei and Onee-chan/Ane-chan. I also called myself Obaa because I felt old talking to ppl who just entered the fandom haha. But never I was never called Senpai ))):  42. relationship status: Single Pringle! 43. zodiac: Taurus / Boar  44. pronouns: she/her  45. favourite tv show: idk probably anything with an Asian cast bc I like seeing my people onscreen  46. tattoos: Not yet, but if I ever get one I have a rough design done.  47. right or left handed: Right but I’m teaching myself to become ambidextrous  48. surgery: None that I remember 49. piercing: Ears 50. sport: No! I used to do cross country in elementary school? 51. vacation: Love love love any Lewis & Clark vacations. Lewis is my husband and I would die for him.  52. pair of trainers: My only tennis shoes are faded and worn-out 3 y.o. purple and gray/silver ones I bought in my WTNV phase. I don’t like shoes so I haven’t bought new ones even tho I should. 

MORE GENERAL

53. eating: Nothing 54. drinking: Water 55. im about to: Listen to music and finish Chap 3 of HBAM and maybe do some Kakashi Week prompts 56. waiting for: Myself to stop being lazy  57. want: To lay under my falsa blanket in bed and get some work done 58. get married: Yes!! I’m so excited to get married (-: I know it’s not all sunshine and rainbows, but it’s so awesome to think that I’ll get to spend the rest of my life loving on someone and being comfortably dorky around them  59. career: I want to be an author! Ppl tell me I should go into writing (screenplays or articles), drawing (book illustrations) or counseling, and my older sis wants me to be a teacher with her.  60. hugs or kisses: I’m selective about who gives me affection tbh, and I’m more of a hand-holder so idk 61. lips or eyes: Lips. I have a hard time keeping eye contact and paying attention to what’s being said. I feel like they’re looking into my soul.  62. shorter or taller: I luv being taller than people but I want my hubby to be taller than me!  63. older or younger: I’m both middle and oldest child in my mixed family. I want to marry someone older, but I like being the oldest in my friend group.  64. nice arms or nice stomach: Nice arms make me weak  66. troublemaker or hesitant: I used to be a troublemaker, but now I’m hesitant 

HAVE YOU EVER

67. kissed a stranger: No, but I proposed to one during a scavenger hunt (he said yes).  68. drank hard liquor: How hard is “hard”?  69. lost glasses/contact lenses: Yes. I never wear my glasses so I misplace them a lot.  70. turned someone down: Had to turn someone down for other ppl because they wouldn’t take no for an answer  71. sex on the first date:  No! I’ve never been on a date either ahahah 72. broken someone’s heart: Possibly  73. had your heart broken: Yes! Multiple times! But it heals stronger every time!  74. been arrested: No 75. cried when someone died: Yes 76. fallen for a friend: Yeah /: 

DO YOU BELIEVE IN

77. yourself: Yes but then I feel full of myself  78. miracles: Yes ?? But not like, cosmic miracles? I believe in God, ya know? so His miracles ??  79. love at first sight: Yes! (reminds me of the county bailiff and grilled cheese food car guys I fell in love with when I moved down here lolol)  80. santa claus: SANTA IS THE BEST (but, practically, no)  81. kiss on the first date: On the cheek or back of the hand, sure?? I’ve never been on a date????  82. angels: Yes! 

OTHER

83. current best friends’ names: Goldie 84. eye colour: Hazel (mostly green)  85. favourite movie: Jurassic Park, Across the Universe, The New World, Howl’s Moving Castle, Spirited Away 

Hopefully I filled them all in and didn’t leave Pyro’s answers hahaha

Tagging @thefoxthief @purple-possibilities @thetoxicstrawberry @ninja-crows @iyo-arts But only if you want to do it! 

[dfalaye]

2017 Pitch Wars #PimpMyBio - BLOOD SCION

When I found out about #pitchwars last year, mentees were busy tackling intense revisions with the help of their amazing mentors. I had zero idea what it was, but from the level of excitement alone, I knew I HAD to participate in 2017. So here I am, with a manuscript that’s taken me 5 years to write, deciding—FINALLY—to get out of my own head and just do it. Why the hell not?

Ok, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s move on to a proper introduction.

My name is Deborah Falaye.

I read and write anything YA Fantasy.

You can find me on twitter, where I usually freak out over my favorite tv shows/movies and spend way too much time retweeting viral tweets.

About My Manuscript:

BLOOD SCION is an #ownvoices YA Fantasy inspired by Yoruba mythology and the #ChildrenNotSoldiers campaign.

It’s set in futuristic Africa, where Sloane Shadé, a fifteen-year-old descendant of two ancient Orisha gods, becomes a child soldier in order to find out what happened to her mother.

Because one novel aesthetic isn’t enough (when is it ever?), here’s another.

Why I Wrote BLOOD SCION:

Five years ago, after completing my first MS, a YA Contemporary that will never see the light of day, I decided to venture into the land of YA Fantasy. I knew I wanted to create my own world and fill it with fascinating characters with a burning desire to achieve their goals by any means necessary.

But my world wasn’t just going to be any world.

It would be a world I’d already lived in, with elements of a culture that was my own, and a main character that looked just like me—unapologetically black.

So I created Sloane Shadé. A young Yoruba girl. A descendant of the Orisha gods. Shango, the god of fire, and Orunmila, the god of divination. She wears her hair in cornrows. She wields a dagger like the little bad-ass she is. She’s stubborn, fiesty, reckless, and beyond determined. She also gets in scuffles with boys twice her size, but nope, she ain’t backing down.

BUT the world didn’t feel complete, yet. 

In 2014, my fiancé founded an organization called The Organization for World Peace, a Canadian non-profit that advocates for peace-building and non-combative responses to global conflicts. We spent many nights discussing the OWP, and through those discussions, I learned a lot about the use of child soldiers in many war torn countries around the world.

But I wanted to learn more. So I started researching.

I read stories about eight-year-old boys snatched from their parents and forced to join rebel groups. I cried over girls sold as child brides at the young age of twelve. Every child soldier story hit me hard, because I couldn’t understand how people could abuse children in such a way. I couldn’t understand the lengths many of these children were forced to go just for the sake of survival. Their reality was completely different from my own and I felt so angry, so afraid and powerless reading these stories. At the time, I was a Psychology major, learning about the power of obedience and fear of authority, and how the two can be used to coerce even the most innocent people into committing the most harrowing crimes. I read hundreds of pages about the Milgram Experiment and the Stanford Experiment, and even though I hate studying, that was probably one of the biggest highlights of my undergraduate degree.

It also inspired the world of BLOOD SCION. A world where fifteen-year-olds are drafted annually, and trained to fight in a decades-long war against descendants of the Orisha gods trying to reclaim the nation that was once stolen from them.

So what happens when Sloane—desperate and determined to uncover the truth about her mother—becomes a child soldier trained to kill her own people, all while keeping her identity and abilities a secret?

Well, here’s hoping there’s an incredibly talented superhuman mentor who’s made it this far and finds my ramblings appealing enough to want to find out. My book and I are ready for all of your magic!

A Few Things About Me:

- I’m obsessed with reality TV. Real Housewives of Beverly Hills/Atlanta? Sign me up! Anything Love & HipHop?

- I have a little yorkie that’s my world. Really, he rules my life and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

- I love love LOVE Bob Marley. Buffalo Soldier, Three Little Birds, and Could You Be Loved are three of my favorite jams!

- Some of my favorite movies: The Fast & Furious franchise. Harry Potter all day every day. Bourne Identity series. Rocky 1, 2, 3, & 4, and Creed!

- Some of my favorite YA books: Shadow & Bone. Hunger Games. Winner’s Curse. An Ember In The Ashes. Red Queen.

- Finally (because this post is borderline an essay now), if I’m lucky enough to be picked by any one of you awesome mentors, you should know that I’m ready to do whatever it takes to get my MS to the next step. So, bring on the challenge! =)

Ok, I guess that concludes my very first tumblr blog post!

Huge thanks to Brenda Drake, Lana Pattinson, and every single person who has worked tirelessly to give us another year of #PitchWars. You guys rock! Also, you can check out the other fabulous bios written by my fellow hopefuls here!

Enjoy! <3

[ourlittledinosaur]

My Two Year Old’s 1st Dentist Visit

New Post has been published on http://ourlittledinosaur.com/my-two-year-olds-1st-dentist-visit/

My Two Year Old’s 1st Dentist Visit

First Official Dentist Appointment

Well, today was a big day here for us in the Lil’ Dino household. All three of us, (Lil’ Dino, Lil’ Dino Daddy, and myself) had dentist appointments.

Now technically my son has been to the dentist twice before. Once to have his lip and tongue ties revised and once soon after his first birthday for what we thought was a tartar problem (it wasn’t…we just needed to brush his teeth. duh! *rolls eyes* Apparently, the rule is if one has teeth, brush them. Haha!).

Ever since we went to that pediatric dentist and started brushing his teeth, it’s been a daily battle to brush his teeth.

Picture this: our Lil’ Dino family is getting the little one ready for bed. “Ok, son. Let’s brush your teeth.”

“Noooooo!” Lil’ Dino exclaims as he runs wildly in the opposite direction adorned in naught but his adorable cloth diaper.

Dino Daddy and Dino Mommy smile wearily at one another as one of them holds the tooth brush and both follow in hot pursuit of the resistant toddler.

Dino Daddy wrestles him into his arms and onto the changing table and holds his arms while Dino Mommy smiles and sings happy teeth-brushing songs and tries to get Lil’ Dino to open his mouth.

“Say ahh,” Mommy prods.

Toddler then shuts mouth tightly with a most serious face.

“Please son, it’s time to brush your teeth,” Mommy assures. “Mommy will be very gentle.”

Toddler still refuses and begins (or continues) to squirm.

Mommy uses a freshly washed pinky to create an entry into toddler’s mouth followed by the tooth brush. Toddler seems to comply for a moment before quickly sucking off the strawberry flavored toothpaste, then closing his mouth tightly again.

Mommy wiggles the toothbrush into Toddler’s mouth and begins to scrub gently. Toddler whimpers. Both Daddy and Mommy feel terrible and pray he’ll still trust them when this is all over. Mommy keeps brushing softly and Toddler wails (which admittedly and horribly makes it easier to get the whole thing over with because now his mouth is at least open).

“It’s ok son,” we reassure. “We’re almost done.” “We’re doing this because we love you and we don’t want your teeth to fall out!”

Then it’s over. Whew! (Now were all ready for bed!)

End scene.

This has been every evening for nearly a year, with very few exceptions.

Needless to say, Lil’ Dino Daddy and I were skeptical about how this trip to the dentist would go. However, both of us felt it necessary since teeth-brushing is such a struggle and because Lil’ Dino chipped one of his teeth chomping a rock and we wanted our family dentist to check it. (*another eye roll and a big sigh* Boys will be boys?)

Scared Little Boy

So we arrive at the dentist and I fill out the “new patient” paperwork for my son which is kind of exciting.

Soon two dental hygienists arrive to take back my husband and my son (with me). One of them tells Lil’ Dino, “Can you believe your Daddy was your age when he started coming here?” Pretty neat, right? We really like our dentist.

So, my husband heads back with the hygienist who spoke and my son continues to play with legos and completely ignore that he’s being spoken to. (My son is actually very friendly and polite for a two year old. We had just woken him up from his nap and he was a little shy and moody.)

So, I illicit Lil’ Dino’s help in picking up the legos and then I pick him up and we walk back to whatever the dentist equivalent is to an exam room. We talk to the hygienist. Let’s call her Ms. Hattie. She’s so sweet and friendly.

She shows my son the “special cushion just for him” and I go to set him in it. He raises his legs into the air, refusing to sit, and clings to me as tight as he can. He was terrified! My son is typically fairly fearless. He has a wonderful sense of exploration that sometimes borders getting into mischief. He’s not really afraid of new people or new things.

We talk up the chair, as well as the movie he can watch while he sits in it. No go. In fact, I told my husband I’m pretty sure he suspected trickery once we offered the TV freely and he didn’t have to request it.

The more Ms. Hattie speaks to him – the more I try to convince him – the more his grip tightens around me and his head buries into me. Soon he begins to sob that panic sob I so rarely witness. It’s not only heartbreaking but I know it means he’s had enough. He’s scared.

I tell him, “Oh honey, it’s ok. You don’t have to do anything today.” I smile at Ms. Hattie and take my son into the lobby. As I carry my frightened son, I notice the warm colors of the lobby contrast greatly with the cool colors, bright lights, and shiny instruments of the exam room. He immediately relaxes but continues to cling to me. The sobbing stops.

I remind him he is safe. That no one will hurt him. Everything is ok.

It dawns on me, that although he was a baby and it had been a year since he’d had a bad experience at a different dentist’s office, he probably remembers it. At that time, and at the time of the lip and tongue tie revision at three weeks old, it was a forced situation. Both times he cried and was held down. It truly breaks my heart to write about it. Something triggered a panic response for him.

All this time we’d been brushing his teeth almost the same way because, well, we had to. We had to take care of his teeth. The only time he doesn’t mind his teeth being brushed is when he does it himself. Of course, he doesn’t do it very thoroughly which is why we have kept doing it for him.

Our story continues, and my son soon crawls off my lap to go back to the legos. I have told him that soon we will go back into the room, “but it will be to help Ms. Hattie clean Mommy’s teeth. Won’t that be fun?”

Ms. Hattie comes out and kindly hands me the paperwork I hadn’t quite finished. As I scribble down the requested information, she kneels down and asks if Lil’ Dino wants to play legos with her. He was so excited. He laughed and joined her in playing. They chat a while about colors and block sizes and how high they can stack them.

I complete the stack of papers and walk it up to the office assistant. I return to Ms. Hattie and Lil’ Dino and ask him if he wants to go see Daddy get his teeth cleaned. He agrees and we go to his exam room.

Let’s Watch Daddy…and Help Mommy

My husband’s dental hygienist was a hoot and also friendly. She was wearing specially designed glasses that had a light on them and commented first thing that she was a robot. My son loves robots, so we chatted about that for a bit and she showed him the tools that were cleaning Daddy’s teeth. “Daddy’s teeth are so shiny now,” she explained. His curiosity was sparked but he remained solemn.

We headed back to my exam room with Ms. Hattie, and I sat down on the special chair with my son on my lap. I pointed out the TV and the current scene playing in “Finding Nemo”. Ms. Hattie brought him a Lil’ Dino sized chair and he giggled and sat in it joyfully.

Becoming comfortable in this new environment, he exclaimed, “Daddy is?” and stole out of the room and down the hall to check on his Daddy. Thirty seconds later he was back with Daddy right behind him, and wanted up on my lap. I encouraged Lil’ Dino Daddy to stay and to let Lil’ Dino watch so he’d become more comfortable.

With Lil’ Dino on my lap, Ms. Hattie told us we were going for a ride, and I excitedly exclaimed “Whee!” as the chair moved back at a snails pace. Lil’ Dino giggled. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

I have to admit, as someone who has had a chipped tooth, braces, and headgear, and a retainer, I’ve had many experiences with people working inside my mouth. Nothing was more eventful than this simple cleaning I had today!

Lil’ Dino stayed on my lap the entire cleaning. He “helped” and bounced, and exclaimed, “Ah-uh-uh-uh!” as he did so. He smile and laughed and talked about “Mommy mouth” “Mommy teeth”. He watched and then wanted to touch the tools (but only did so with permission from Ms. Hattie which was impressive I thought). She handed him his first dental tool. He held the circular mirror up to his face and scrutinized it thoroughly. He grabbed the “sucky tube” that was in my mouth and tried to push it further into my mouth and down my throat. (Ok, that one wasn’t with permission.) “Touch it,” he said and then touched the green paste that was polishing my teeth.

What a Turn Around

He continued to watch in fascination, get excited, then lay on my tummy and hug me tightly. He even told me “tank tou, Mommy” a few times for getting to do something with my teeth. He was so distracting and truly very sweet. What a turnaround from the terrified little person thirty minutes previous in this very room. It was certainly the most fun dental cleaning I’ve ever had.

Ms. Hattie was able to get him to smile here and there and check out the chipped tooth. They use a really neat camera tool with a light on the end that goes in or near the mouth and he tolerated that a bit so she could get a good picture for the Doctor. Lil’ Dino was positioned just right that he could see the screen that showcased him as she took the pictures. He liked that too!

Ms. Hattie was even able to polish Lil’ Dino’s teeth with a toothbrush by letting him do it and rubbing his teeth with her blue-gloved hand where she wanted him to brush.

Lil’ Dino even let the Doctor look at his chipped tooth for about a nanosecond, but it was just long enough to know that everything was ok.

When it was all said and done, we all three were given a clean bill of dental health and Lil’ Dino left with a bright smile and a prize from the toy chest.

He said thank you and bye bye to everyone, including the doctor. He said a special goodbye to sweet Ms. Hattie and reached out to her to hold him. He really liked her. 🙂

Before we left, our favorite office assistant from the front desk came around to take Lil Dino’s picture with a big white camera that prints the photos instantly. His photo was placed on the “No Cavity Kids” board, of which I took a picture to send to his “Nama” and “Nana”.

When I showed my husband the picture of the picture I took, I warned him beforehand that if we weren’t his parents, we wouldn’t know this was a two year old. He saw the picture and agreed. He looked like an older child. A big kid. And for the moment, that suited him well, because he did a big, brave, big-kid thing today and overcame a fear that we didn’t realize he had.

Now that we know our son has a healthy mouth, we are going to take a couple weeks to change his teeth-brushing routine. We’re going to let him do it all by himself, with direction. We’re going to take our cue from Ms. Hattie and show him where to brush by rubbing his teeth. He’ll be standing like a big boy over the sink. Maybe Lil’ Dino Daddy will teach him to spit like a man. (Ew, what am I saying?)

Grandparent Pride

Upon receiving the picture I sent of our very own “No Cavity Kid”, my mother-in-law admitted that she is resisting the desire to go to the dentist’s office tomorrow just to talk to them about how cute her grandson is. “Grandparent pride is a real thing!” she explained proudly.

What about you?

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[adayinthelifeofcaitlin-blog]

A post against an organised curriculum, from a perspective of excelling in it

I’m going to start this post in an ultra pretentious way by drawing a comparison to the Breakfast Club - if you’re cringing at the cliche of a teen blogger writing about 80′s films I’d stop reading now, but you’re sat at home scrolling through some pretentious tag on a pretentious blog site yourself, so who are you kidding? The Breakfast Club gained it’s initial popularity because it’s a film so easy to resonate with at least one of the characters, cliche’s are cliche’s for that reason anyway.

  In this instance, I resonate with Brian, who, if you haven’t seen, is the stereotypical geek who shouldn’t really be in detention anyway. The other characters speak of their problems, such as Molly Ringwald’s pressures with popularity and Judd Nelson’s broken home life, all of which are obviously valid problems, but they fail to see why Brian is so distraught over failing a class he deemed easy (shop? I think, I’m English so I’m assuming it’s woodwork.) He eventually tells the others how he attempted suicide because ‘he couldn’t get an F’, and whilst I am in no way suicidal, I completely understand Brian’s struggles. 

Organised education systems, such as the UK curriculum are built upon a system of sets and letters and reports of ‘good’ and ‘bad’, if, like me, you’ve been lucky enough to achieve the desired grades and letters and sets, you can end up gaining a colossal sense of validation. When you become ‘the smart girl’ because of these boxes, what happens when you achieve anything lower? Who do you become? 

Last year I sat my AS exams, which are the first part to a two year qualification (although that system is/has changed), and I thought I fucked it up big time - I came out with 4 A’s.  Day after day I’d add up the different marks I thought I achieved in different papers, hoping to God I’d somehow scrape a B. On results day, everything was fine again,  for another year I could be secure in the fact that I am smart.  

This year, on the other hand, I sat my final exams - I was also lucky enough to be elected as Head Girl (Class President to anyone in America). If anything, that added to the pressure, imagine the Head Girl not getting the grades to go to University? My whole life has been focused on getting into University, filling my nights with extra-curricular activities and being determined to get the highest of grades, I didn’t know who I would be without achieving them. 

Admittedly I could of revised for longer and paid better attention in school, maybe I grew a sense of complacency because I’d always crammed and got the best grades - I found that way of study was the way that worked for me because I’m better at intense focused learning. But sitting my exams I became obsessed with my identity, I’m not kidding when I say that I cried every hour or two, revised from 6 in the morning  to 12 at night, with limited breaks and woke up in the night to revise. This was no longer a test on Eisenhower’s foreign policy or a system of checks and balances - this was about proving who I am. It made me ill, I vomited several times a day and couldn’t eat or sleep, I had to do well or what was the point in life? 

By the time I got to my last exam, English, I felt slightly calmer. I’ve always been good at English because you can focus on creativity and individual interpretations, but when I opened the paper - the pressure hit. Not because I couldn’t answer it, I knew full well I could smash any of the questions they’d given, but because I felt as though this test was on me, my worth was what number would be written on the page. I walked out of the exam, twice. I sat in the examiners room and sobbed. Whilst I finished the exam, I don’t have high hopes. I went to the GP later that day because of the vomiting and the stress and explained to my doctor, who believes I have ‘high-achiever anxiety’, ironically. I don’t know if in reality it’s that severe but I’ve been given tablets and I’m going to this group therapy thing. But now I’m going to focus on finding my identity without an incessant need of validation, because you really can’t healthily live with a difference of one mark dictating your life. 

The point of writing this isn’t to moan or try and salvage some part of my lost identity, rather than to encourage you all this results day to not be too broken if it doesn’t go right, or take too much pride if it goes well. There’s so much more to life. The system is a broken one, the reason I tried to so hard in the first place is because I love to learn and debate and challenge things and I got so caught up in the structure that has broken it. It’s even hard to write this because I feel as though, because I’ve probably failed English how can I dare start a blog? In response to that feeling, that’s exactly what I’m going to do, because I know I’m a good writer and I have to teach myself that a grade can’t stop me forever. 

[ourlittledinosaur]

My Two Year Old’s 1st Dentist Visit

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My Two Year Old’s 1st Dentist Visit

First Official Dentist Appointment

Well, today was a big day here for us in the Lil’ Dino household. All three of us, (Lil’ Dino, Lil’ Dino Daddy, and myself) had dentist appointments.

Now technically my son has been to the dentist twice before. Once to have his lip and tongue ties revised and once soon after his first birthday for what we thought was a tartar problem (it wasn’t…we just needed to brush his teeth. duh! *rolls eyes* Apparently, the rule is if one has teeth, brush them. Haha!).

Ever since we went to that pediatric dentist and started brushing his teeth, it’s been a daily battle to brush his teeth.

Picture this: our Lil’ Dino family is getting the little one ready for bed. “Ok, son. Let’s brush your teeth.”

“Noooooo!” Lil’ Dino exclaims as he runs wildly in the opposite direction adorned in naught but his adorable cloth diaper.

Dino Daddy and Dino Mommy smile wearily at one another as one of them holds the tooth brush and both follow in hot pursuit of the resistant toddler.

Dino Daddy wrestles him into his arms and onto the changing table and holds his arms while Dino Mommy smiles and sings happy teeth-brushing songs and tries to get Lil’ Dino to open his mouth.

“Say ahh,” Mommy prods.

Toddler then shuts mouth tightly with a most serious face.

“Please son, it’s time to brush your teeth,” Mommy assures. “Mommy will be very gentle.”

Toddler still refuses and begins (or continues) to squirm.

Mommy uses a freshly washed pinky to create an entry into toddler’s mouth followed by the tooth brush. Toddler seems to comply for a moment before quickly sucking off the strawberry flavored toothpaste, then closing his mouth tightly again.

Mommy wiggles the toothbrush into Toddler’s mouth and begins to scrub gently. Toddler whimpers. Both Daddy and Mommy feel terrible and pray he’ll still trust them when this is all over. Mommy keeps brushing softly and Toddler wails (which admittedly and horribly makes it easier to get the whole thing over with because now his mouth is at least open).

“It’s ok son,” we reassure. “We’re almost done.” “We’re doing this because we love you and we don’t want your teeth to fall out!”

Then it’s over. Whew! (Now were all ready for bed!)

End scene.

This has been every evening for nearly a year, with very few exceptions.

Needless to say, Lil’ Dino Daddy and I were skeptical about how this trip to the dentist would go. However, both of us felt it necessary since teeth-brushing is such a struggle and because Lil’ Dino chipped one of his teeth chomping a rock and we wanted our family dentist to check it. (*another eye roll and a big sigh* Boys will be boys?)

Scared Little Boy

So we arrive at the dentist and I fill out the “new patient” paperwork for my son which is kind of exciting.

Soon two dental hygienists arrive to take back my husband and my son (with me). One of them tells Lil’ Dino, “Can you believe your Daddy was your age when he started coming here?” Pretty neat, right? We really like our dentist.

So, my husband heads back with the hygienist who spoke and my son continues to play with legos and completely ignore that he’s being spoken to. (My son is actually very friendly and polite for a two year old. We had just woken him up from his nap and he was a little shy and moody.)

So, I illicit Lil’ Dino’s help in picking up the legos and then I pick him up and we walk back to whatever the dentist equivalent is to an exam room. We talk to the hygienist. Let’s call her Ms. Hattie. She’s so sweet and friendly.

She shows my son the “special cushion just for him” and I go to set him in it. He raises his legs into the air, refusing to sit, and clings to me as tight as he can. He was terrified! My son is typically fairly fearless. He has a wonderful sense of exploration that sometimes borders getting into mischief. He’s not really afraid of new people or new things.

We talk up the chair, as well as the movie he can watch while he sits in it. No go. In fact, I told my husband I’m pretty sure he suspected trickery once we offered the TV freely and he didn’t have to request it.

The more Ms. Hattie speaks to him – the more I try to convince him – the more his grip tightens around me and his head buries into me. Soon he begins to sob that panic sob I so rarely witness. It’s not only heartbreaking but I know it means he’s had enough. He’s scared.

I tell him, “Oh honey, it’s ok. You don’t have to do anything today.” I smile at Ms. Hattie and take my son into the lobby. As I carry my frightened son, I notice the warm colors of the lobby contrast greatly with the cool colors, bright lights, and shiny instruments of the exam room. He immediately relaxes but continues to cling to me. The sobbing stops.

I remind him he is safe. That no one will hurt him. Everything is ok.

It dawns on me, that although he was a baby and it had been a year since he’d had a bad experience at a different dentist’s office, he probably remembers it. At that time, and at the time of the lip and tongue tie revision at three weeks old, it was a forced situation. Both times he cried and was held down. It truly breaks my heart to write about it. Something triggered a panic response for him.

All this time we’d been brushing his teeth almost the same way because, well, we had to. We had to take care of his teeth. The only time he doesn’t mind his teeth being brushed is when he does it himself. Of course, he doesn’t do it very thoroughly which is why we have kept doing it for him.

Our story continues, and my son soon crawls off my lap to go back to the legos. I have told him that soon we will go back into the room, “but it will be to help Ms. Hattie clean Mommy’s teeth. Won’t that be fun?”

Ms. Hattie comes out and kindly hands me the paperwork I hadn’t quite finished. As I scribble down the requested information, she kneels down and asks if Lil’ Dino wants to play legos with her. He was so excited. He laughed and joined her in playing. They chat a while about colors and block sizes and how high they can stack them.

I complete the stack of papers and walk it up to the office assistant. I return to Ms. Hattie and Lil’ Dino and ask him if he wants to go see Daddy get his teeth cleaned. He agrees and we go to his exam room.

Let’s Watch Daddy…and Help Mommy

My husband’s dental hygienist was a hoot and also friendly. She was wearing specially designed glasses that had a light on them and commented first thing that she was a robot. My son loves robots, so we chatted about that for a bit and she showed him the tools that were cleaning Daddy’s teeth. “Daddy’s teeth are so shiny now,” she explained. His curiosity was sparked but he remained solemn.

We headed back to my exam room with Ms. Hattie, and I sat down on the special chair with my son on my lap. I pointed out the TV and the current scene playing in “Finding Nemo”. Ms. Hattie brought him a Lil’ Dino sized chair and he giggled and sat in it joyfully.

Becoming comfortable in this new environment, he exclaimed, “Daddy is?” and stole out of the room and down the hall to check on his Daddy. Thirty seconds later he was back with Daddy right behind him, and wanted up on my lap. I encouraged Lil’ Dino Daddy to stay and to let Lil’ Dino watch so he’d become more comfortable.

With Lil’ Dino on my lap, Ms. Hattie told us we were going for a ride, and I excitedly exclaimed “Whee!” as the chair moved back at a snails pace. Lil’ Dino giggled. Maybe this place wasn’t so bad after all.

I have to admit, as someone who has had a chipped tooth, braces, and headgear, and a retainer, I’ve had many experiences with people working inside my mouth. Nothing was more eventful than this simple cleaning I had today!

Lil’ Dino stayed on my lap the entire cleaning. He “helped” and bounced, and exclaimed, “Ah-uh-uh-uh!” as he did so. He smile and laughed and talked about “Mommy mouth” “Mommy teeth”. He watched and then wanted to touch the tools (but only did so with permission from Ms. Hattie which was impressive I thought). She handed him his first dental tool. He held the circular mirror up to his face and scrutinized it thoroughly. He grabbed the “sucky tube” that was in my mouth and tried to push it further into my mouth and down my throat. (Ok, that one wasn’t with permission.) “Touch it,” he said and then touched the green paste that was polishing my teeth.

What a Turn Around

He continued to watch in fascination, get excited, then lay on my tummy and hug me tightly. He even told me “tank tou, Mommy” a few times for getting to do something with my teeth. He was so distracting and truly very sweet. What a turnaround from the terrified little person thirty minutes previous in this very room. It was certainly the most fun dental cleaning I’ve ever had.

Ms. Hattie was able to get him to smile here and there and check out the chipped tooth. They use a really neat camera tool with a light on the end that goes in or near the mouth and he tolerated that a bit so she could get a good picture for the Doctor. Lil’ Dino was positioned just right that he could see the screen that showcased him as she took the pictures. He liked that too!

Ms. Hattie was even able to polish Lil’ Dino’s teeth with a toothbrush by letting him do it and rubbing his teeth with her blue-gloved hand where she wanted him to brush.

Lil’ Dino even let the Doctor look at his chipped tooth for about a nanosecond, but it was just long enough to know that everything was ok.

When it was all said and done, we all three were given a clean bill of dental health and Lil’ Dino left with a bright smile and a prize from the toy chest.

He said thank you and bye bye to everyone, including the doctor. He said a special goodbye to sweet Ms. Hattie and reached out to her to hold him. He really liked her. 🙂

Before we left, our favorite office assistant from the front desk came around to take Lil Dino’s picture with a big white camera that prints the photos instantly. His photo was placed on the “No Cavity Kids” board, of which I took a picture to send to his “Nama” and “Nana”.

When I showed my husband the picture of the picture I took, I warned him beforehand that if we weren’t his parents, we wouldn’t know this was a two year old. He saw the picture and agreed. He looked like an older child. A big kid. And for the moment, that suited him well, because he did a big, brave, big-kid thing today and overcame a fear that we didn’t realize he had.

Now that we know our son has a healthy mouth, we are going to take a couple weeks to change his teeth-brushing routine. We’re going to let him do it all by himself, with direction. We’re going to take our cue from Ms. Hattie and show him where to brush by rubbing his teeth. He’ll be standing like a big boy over the sink. Maybe Lil’ Dino Daddy will teach him to spit like a man. (Ew, what am I saying?)

Grandparent Pride

Upon receiving the picture I sent of our very own “No Cavity Kid”, my mother-in-law admitted that she is resisting the desire to go to the dentist’s office tomorrow just to talk to them about how cute her grandson is. “Grandparent pride is a real thing!” she explained proudly.

What about you?

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