#probably still the best snow white we're going to get

[natalie-waite]

There's a universe in which Snow White: A Tale of Terror is actually a good film and as much and I genuinely like it, I would die to see a good gothic horror adaptation of this fairy tale

[mayanneaa]

sparkling - ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ.

PAIRING : enemy!rafe cameron x kook!reader

SUMMARY : the country club announces a carnival ball, and your parents make you go there with the last person you’d want to be around — rafe cameron.

WARNING(S) : drinking, minor violence, swearing, not proofread

A/N : we're going full kook baby (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 4.6k (bear with me. BEAR WITH ME)

first part, "nights like this" is here!

masterlist.

You clench your teeth as you walk around the room, waiting for the dress to arrive.

To your surprise, it’s white outside the window, the soft snow covering most of your garden. You sit down on your bed with a sigh.

In two hours you’re supposed to be walking through the door of the country club, your dress flowing on the floor as you move plastered to Rafe’s side.

The last part still makes you fuming.

Obviously, it wasn’t your idea— your parents decided you’d look perfect with the oldest of the Cameron siblings. They seemed to forget that you literally despise him. And you’re pretty sure he feels the same about you.

If this ball was happening a year ago, you wouldn't mind. You'd probably be already all giddy, waiting for your prince on his white horse to come pick you up.

All because of a stupid party. Your birthday party.

It still replays in your head, as if there wasn't anything better to remember.

Rafe kissed you on the rooftop of Tanney Hill. Rafe, the guy you've been obsessed with since, well, fifth grade, kissed you to fulfill your birthday wish. Little did he know he actually fulfilled two of them that night.

But, nothing that's tied to Rafe is easy. Just as you were supposed to leave with him, you caught him with a girl all over him.

Is that enough of a reason not to be happy about being there, showing off by his side at the ball?

“Sweetie, your dress is here!”

Soon after that, your door creaks, and your mother comes in with a long dress in her hands.

It’s beautiful, that’s for sure-- silver, sparkling with tiny glitter pieces. The straps are thin, almost nonexistent.

"Isn't carnival all about being, I don't know, fun?" you say skeptically. "This is going to be so tense. Apart from the fact that I have to be there with Rafe."

Your mother glances at you, her eyes softening. "Ward asked us a long time ago, and you know how your father is about his 'promises'..."

You huff, resting your chin on your hand.

"Plus, you still didn't tell us what happened between you two that made you dislike him so much." You feel a similar sting in your heart. "And you don’t have to, just so you know.”

You give her a defeated look and get up. You trace your fingers down the fabric before you speak up. "I should probably try it on..."

Your mom gives you an excited nod. "Go on!"

She gently hands you the piece of clothing before disappearing behind the door. Do you have any other choice than to get ready? Not really.

You slip into the dress, your figure sparkling in the mirror with every minor movement. It flows over your body most beautifully— a little tighter in all the right places, but not tight enough to feel uncomfortable while sitting, eating, or dancing.

You spin around on your tiptoes, checking yourself out, and a small smile creeps up your lips.

The night before, you used all your most expensive skincare and had a very everything shower. If you have to suffer, at least you’ll look pretty.

You match your makeup to the theme—a whiteish sparkly eyeshadow and lots of highlighter, making you look like a mirrorball—in the best way possible.

With the last run of fingers through your hair you realize it’s almost the time to go.

It’s already dark outside, the moon radiating from the snowy beach in the distance. You grab your heels and bag, hearing your mother calling you from downstairs.

You take a deep breath. It’s going to be okay. It has to be.

The Camerons have just pulled up, their car’s engine dying soundly as you jump off the last step. You look down at your hands and can’t help but notice them slightly shaking.

The doors open, and Ward comes in first, with Rose close by him. Then, Wheezie runs in, dragging Sarah by her hand.

Rafe follows them like a ghost, all quiet when he closes the door behind him.

“Well, look who’s there!”

Your father directs these words to the oldest of the Cameron siblings. You glance at Rafe and see his eyes slightly widen as your dad comes up to him. Almost as if he’s thrown off by it.

He quickly regains his typical confidence and shakes the man’s hand, steady and sure.

“Hi!” Sarah comes up to you, a cheeky smile spread on her face. She looks as gorgeous as ever— her blonde hair pinned up in a half-updo, some strands hanging out and curling around her face.

You hug her, lingering for a bit before pulling away and noticing Wheezie looking at you.

“Well! There goes the princess,” you say, bowing in front of her, so low you’d fold in half. The young girl giggles, and you feel your heart warm up.

"Come on, girls! We're going to be late!"

Rose is already waiting by the door, tapping her heeled foot on the wooden floor.

You glance at the Cameron sisters, rolling your eyes.

"I saw that, young girl."

Sarah snorts behind your back, and you send Rose a sheepish smile. When you run your eyes around the room, you notice Rafe staring at you.

He has a total poker face. Not a single muscle moves when you examine his features, but his eyes speak, or rather scream a million words. There's a hint of anger, making you grimace.

You just have to show off for a little while by his side, and it will be over before you even notice.

You tell this to yourself as you walk out the door, still feeling his gaze on your back.

It's going to be a long night.

The parking lot outside of the country club is already filled with expensive cars when your family and Camerons arrive.

You get out and the cold air quickly hits you, a sharp breath sneaks out of your lungs.

“Okay…” You whisper to yourself, watching Rafe slam the car’s door as he and his family come out. “Remember, just a few hours.”

“Are you ready?”

You turn around and see your father already standing there with Rafe. How the hell did this boy get here so quickly?

“Do we really have to?” You try, eyeing Rafe and noticing his jaw clenching.

“Y/n…” Your father tilts his head and gives you one of his looks, and you know there’s no point in arguing any further.

You turn to Rafe, feeling a lump in your throat appear.

“You’re cold.” He says, looking you up and down. You grimace.

“Excuse me?”

Rafe gestures at your body, “You’re literally shaking.”

You look down, and he’s right— in all these emotions, you didn’t really see it. “Whatever.”

Now it’s him who twists his lips, as if he wants to say something, but changes his mind at the last moment.

“Why do we even have to show off together like some monkeys in a—”

“Are you two coming?” Your mother interrupts you by exclaiming, already waiting at the door.

You glance at Rafe once again and let out a muffled huff. “Let’s just get this done.”

The silent treatment is nice, you have to admit. He follows you without a word, and soon enough you are on the last step.

You take a shaky breath. Most of the people are already there. All the thoughts hit you at once— what if you accidentally slip? Or spill your wine? What if—

Rafe doesn’t let you finish that sentence in your head, because he opens up the door and clears his throat, giving you a signal to finally move.

You startle and quickly get in, immediately getting hit by the wave of warm air and the heavy smell of candles mixed into it.

Rafe’s presence by your side is radiating. You feel it, almost as if he was burning, just inches away from your arm.

You can’t help but remember the memorable night it all went down. It felt the same, yet so different.

Suddenly, Rafe puts his hand on your waist, making a shiver run down your spine. His touch is soft and barely even there as if he’s disgusted to even touch you. Despite yourself, you feel a sting in your heart, and can’t help but wonder how many times it will happen again tonight.

An older man comes up to you two. You know him from the golf field, or at least that’s what you think. He sends you both a smile, before reaching out for your hand and shaking it with such a power you’re almost sure your arm popped out of its place.

“Hello there, Ms. Y/L,” he says, then directs a nod towards Rafe, “Young Cameron. Tell me, what do you think about this?”

“It’s beautiful,” you say, looking around properly for the first time.

The whole place is decorated with such elegance— silver elements mixed with black and white. The glasses on the tables are already filled with champagne, waiting for the guests to come and try it. And, Lord, is that a live band performing on the stage?

The lights reflecting from the crystal accents gleam in your eyes, and you don’t even notice when the corners of your mouth have risen.

They must’ve spent a fortune on this.

“I’m glad you like it,” Mr. Cohen, if you remember his name correctly, says, his eyes trailing off to the dance floor, slowly being filled up with pairs ready for the opening dance. “Oh! Perfect timing. You’ll still get to join. Isn’t that wonderful?”

Your face falls. You discretely steal a glance at Rafe but aren’t able to see anything past his stupid neutral face. You look down, and he takes his hand off your hip in a second, stretching it out as if he got burned.

“Come on!” Mr Cohen hurries you, and you look at him while clenching your jaw. You send him the most polite smile you can make up on your face at the moment, and, defeated, slowly make your way to the crowd.

“You don’t have to do this.”

This is the second time Rafe has spoken up this night. Did he vow to only speak in single sentences for the whole ball?

You look at him skeptically, “As if you don’t know my parents. And Ward. Let’s just— get it done. After that, you can go to your friends, and I can go my separate way.”

He raises his eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. A few women smile at you when you and Rafe squeeze through the other pairs, finally finding a decent place.

The musicians start to play a soft and slow melody. The violin goes first, the sweet notes sounding through the whole room, accompanying the moving pairs.

Rafe’s hands find their way to your body. He holds you close, so close you can feel the tension in his muscles.

You try not to look at his face, because every time you do, your mind wanders. To the moments before that stupid kiss, to when it was just you and Rage against the world. If only you didn’t kiss, maybe everything would’ve been different.

You’d eventually move on, and seeing Rafe switch out his girls after less than a week would hurt less.

But, what matters is present. And right now, want it or not, you stand on the dance floor, so close to the boy you once swore you’d marry you can feel his irregular breath on the top of your head.

Rafe spins you around, and you realize you have dissociated for a while. He stares down at you, a shadow of a grimace sneaking up on his face. The heat rises to your cheeks, and you’re not really sure if it’s from anger, or maybe something else.

You swear you feel his touch on your waist tighten, the place where he’s resting his hand burning through the material. You clench your teeth. You’re almost sure your heart racing can be heard by the pairs near you.

It’s almost done.

You look around, trying to focus on anything else. The piano joined the melody, making it heavier. It builds up the rhythm, nearing the end. There are, what, two spins left before you’re finally free.

Yours, as well as Rafe’s movement, loosened up, his broad shoulders less tense than before, your body moving smoother as well.

When your eyes return to his face, he’s already looking at you, at every feature. For the first time, you see something else in his eyes.

Regret.

He notices he’s been caught, and doesn’t seem to care. His eyes lazily move across your face, but the emotions change as quickly as they appear. You furrow your eyebrows as he spins you around for the last time as if you are the only ones on the dance floor.

Someone accidentally bumps into you, pushing you even closer to Rafe. Does this have to happen to you?

He grips you a little harder. The last chord plays out, essentially ending the dance, and you pull away as fast as you can. His breath hitches, almost unnoticeably. His hand lingers in the air for what feels like an eternity to you. You look in his eyes you’re unable to decode for the last time before giving him a stiff nod and getting off the parquet, your heels’ clicking lost between the steps of others.

The crowd thins out slowly, and Rafe’s gone from your eyesight before the next song starts.

You sit down at the long table. Dinner is about to start, and the waiters are smoothly spinning around, either getting all the food ready or adding champagne to the crystal glasses.

You lean back on the chair, take a long, deep breath, and explore the table with your eyes. Many people are still dancing, so not all the seats are taken. Each of them is already assigned. You’re reading the cursive letters on the note left by the seat next to you when someone’s voice appears behind you.

“I fear that we don’t know each other.”

You jump up in your place and turn around. A tall, dark-haired boy your age, or a little older, is standing there. He smiles and sits down on the chair beside you before he introduces himself, “Callum Brown.”

“Y/N Y/L,” you answer, resting your chin on your palm. “I haven’t seen you around.”

Callum laughs, and you hold back from furrowing your brows. “I’ve been gone for my studies, but, finally, I’m back.”

You open your mouth to say something but get interrupted by the clinks of some utensils. Both you and the boy look up.

Rafe’s sitting down right there in front of you. His jaw tightens when he glances at you.

“Cameron? Is that you?” Callum says, and you raise your eyebrow. “Man, I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Rafe looks him up and down, forcing a smile that doesn’t even reach halfway to his eyes. “Yeah, and I wish it could stay this way.”

Your eyes widen while Rafe doesn’t look bothered. Callum grimaces and opens his mouth, so you quickly interrupt him by getting his attention back on you, “So, what are these studies about?”

The boy regains his confidence and starts rambling a seemingly learned-by-heart speech about some law studies in LA. You can’t help but sneak glances at Rafe between nodding and humming.

He sits still at the table, his broad shoulders straight as he looks around, obviously avoiding the sight of you.

Soon enough, the seats are full, and the president of the country club starts his speech. His monotonous voice makes it hard for you to keep your eyes open, forcing you to constantly blink in order not to fall asleep.

When he ends, you automatically join the applause, softly clapping your hands with a taught, polite smile.

Everyone gets to eating and chatting, and you immediately curse the person who set up the seating arrangements.

“So, Miss Y/L, how’s it going at school?” Ms. Thornton asks as you pour some juice into your glass.

You look up, your fingers intuitively tightening the grip, only to see everyone sitting close by looking at you with a curious expression— including Rafe, although his fave is more of a typical Cameron poker face.

“Well,” you start, and you feel your cheeks warm up from the attention. “It’s… fine. I started volunteering at the hospital, and—”

“Ooh, how ambitious!” Some older man exclaims, cutting his steak in half. “Isn’t it the same place our Rafe volunteered in his sophomore year?”

You lock eyes with him and watch as he takes a breath. But, instead of saying anything, he just nods.

“Speaking of Rafe,” An elegant, adult woman says, “Do you have anyone? You know, my cousin is already engaged with his fiancée. I’m sure someone has caught your eye!”

You almost choke on your drink, covering it with a small cough. Callum looks at you with wide eyes, but you dismissively wave your hand at him.

Rafe’s eyes are burning holes in you as he speaks up, his voice steady and calm, “I don’t think so. Not lately, at least.”

The woman gives him a hum and starts talking about her cousin’s upcoming wedding, and Rafe falls silent.

You can’t help but knit your eyebrows. You’ve never seen Rafe this quiet at an event like this— usually, he’d be chatting with some golf buddy or his father’s friend, or at least Topper or Kelce.

Tonight, they sit a few seats away, exchanging worried and suspicious looks.

You try to tell yourself it doesn’t bother you. His well-being is not your business or your misery.

And yet, that’s all you can think about for the rest of the dinner.

After everyone has eaten, the time for the dessert is very relaxing. Some people stayed at the table, and many returned to the dancefloor.

You now sit with Sarah and Wheezie, drinking one of the drinks offered to you by a waiter.

"And so, you know, I told her what I think about her, and she—" You don't get to finish because Ward comes up to the three of you.

He kisses his daughters on their heads and smiles at you.

“How are you all doing?” he asks, leaning on the chairs.

“All good, dad!” Sarah answers before she takes another sip from her glass.

“What about you?” he turns his head in your direction, a sly expression slowly creeping up on his face. “I must say, you and Rafe made a beautiful pair at the opening dance.”

Your breath hitches, unnoticed by the others. “I’m glad you liked it.” That’s all that escapes your lips.

“You know, I’m very grateful you agreed upon this. I’ve heard Rafe talking about you a lot, so I figured out I could ask your parents…”

He goes on, but you don’t catch any more words. It feels as if the world stopped— the music suddenly much quieter, overflowed by the racing pulse of your heart.

Rafe was talking about you.

All you’ve experienced from him for the past months were grimaces, snarky comments, or looks that could kill you.

And now Ward is telling you his son was fucking talking about you?

You open up your mouth, about to form a respond, when you hear gasps cutting through the air, followed by a loud bang.

You exchange a look with Sarah and both dart up to your feet.

“What the fuck is—” you say in between panting, going through the hall after your best friend.

You two have to squeeze through the people surrounding the scene. Sarah makes it out first.

“Rafe!” she calls out, and you practically feel your heart go all the way to your throat.

When you finally push the last person and manage to take a big breath, you can’t help but curse loudly at what’s happening in front of you.

Callum is on the ground, holding his hand to his nose, all covered in blood. Rafe is standing above him, irregular pants coming out of his lungs as he stares at the boy. He’s fuming.

Your eyes and Rafe’s lock together, and you see his expression change for a second before he shakes his head and storms out the room, going straight outside in the cold.

You come closer to Callum laying on the ground, quietly throwing cuss words under his breath. You’re frozen to the spot you are standing in.

The only thing you can hear in your head is your heartbeat. All the talking melts together. People pass by, accidentally bumping into your shoulders, but you can’t care less.

You should help Callum.

It’s the right thing to do. He was polite for the whole night, making small talk and passing you every juice you wanted, unlike Rafe who constantly shot glares at you and acted as if even the thought of touching you disgusts him.

But when you look out the big windows, and see Rafe’s tall figure making its way through the snow, you know. You just know.

Isn’t that a reoccurring thing? Whatever you’d do, you always end up near him. No matter how hard you’d try to stop it.

It’s like the gravity pushed you into his arms. Like the universe made it clear.

You and Rafe.

The little voice in your head calls you. You’re not sure if it’s real, or if maybe it’s just the illusion from the drinks you’ve had, but the word rings in your head.

Go.

Go.

And so you listen.

The freezing air hits you like a slap across the face. Your shoulders are fully exposed and you start to regret not grabbing your fur bolero on the way out.

“Rafe!”

He slows down and turns his head to you. His eyebrows are arched and knit, and you notice he clenches up his fists— the knuckles still painted red.

“Go inside,” he grumbles in a voice soaked with anger. “You’ll get sick. Leave me alone.”

You huff. “No. No, no, we’re not doing that,” you say as you almost catch up to him. He doesn’t stop, so you pull his arm. “Rafe!”

Rafe stops in his tracks, and you feel his hand shaking under yours. “Wha- What the fuck are you doing?! Now you’re just punching people? Talking about me so much that Ward himself asked my parents to make me—”

His face goes paler than the snow surrounding you.

“How do you know that?”

Your lips twist in a grimace. “Ugh, fuck that right now. Why did you punch Callum?”

Rafe looks down at his knuckles, and his voice comes out confidently, “He deserved that.”

“But why?” Your voice raises, and you feel the anger that’s bubbling up inside you going dangerously close to the edge. “Do you just hate the idea of me even talking with someone else? You can’t bear seeing me enjoying something or—”

“I did it because I care about you!” he shouts out, his voice trembling. Your eyes widen.

“You care about me, so you decide punching the first guy I’m just talking with?”

“He was talking shit about you!” he finally spits out, now animating with his hands. “Talking about how you’re just a dumb bitch who knows nothing about life because she lives off of daddy’s money. Was I supposed to just- just let him say that?”

You hold your breath, your brows furrowed, and Rafe continues. “Well, I couldn’t. Because, for fuck’s sake, I love you, Y/N!”

The bubble bursts with the last words. You push him away, your vision blurry by the tears hanging of your eyelids. “Yeah? You love me? Well, I think you presented that perfectly at the birthday party. When you decided it was a perfect timing to make out with some bitch while I was literally standing outside the door—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Rafe stops you mid-sentence. You wipe your tears, and when you can see clearer, you see the frightened look on his face.

“Don’t act stupid, Rafe. If you wanted to just kiss me and check it off your list, you could’ve just said that instead of acting like you felt what I did too.”

He grimaces. “I have no idea what do you mean—”

You let out a frustrated laugh, still speaking loudly through the night. “Oh? You don’t remember? Taking some touron to your room when you were supposed to drive me home?”

You see the moment it clicks in his head. His face falls, and he turns around from you, letting out a shaky breath. “I have never kissed her.”

“Wow. You can’t even say that to my face—”

Rafe looks at you again. “I have never kissed her. I don’t know what the fuck did you see, but nothing happened. If you stayed there for longer you’d know that I pushed her away in a second and went to look for you, but you were already leaving with Topper.”

Your heart misses a beat. Or maybe two. He must be lying, right?

“No. Nononono, but- but if that’s what happened, why didn’t you…”

He snorts. “What? Talk to you after you admitted it was a mistake?”

You throw your hands in the air. “I freaked out! I thought I was just a new notch in your belt, so this was the only way I could protect myself from being hurt even more!”

“Do you know how I felt? I’ve liked you—fuck it, I’ve loved you—for two years and I finally got to kiss you, and then you just tell me to forget it?” Rafe says, his voice much quieter now.

You feel your cheeks grow red when he gets closer, his lips inches from yours. “I thought it was for the better-”

He doesn’t let you finish. He cups your face and pulls you closer, connecting your lips together.

Someone has to pinch you, because this does not feel real.

You cautiously wrap your arms around his neck, letting all the emotions spill.

If the kiss on the rooftop wasn’t like in all your bedtime scenarios, this one definitely gets closer.

It’s passionate, fierce— just like Rafe. It’s out of the world. He’s burning, the warmth going everywhere: from your lips to your cheeks, to your heart. You are almost sure his is beating louder than yours.

He sighs into your lips, breaking the kiss to get some air, and you feel your mind spiral. Rafe’s eyes meet yours, and there’s not a glimpse of the emotions from earlier.

“Do you believe me now?” he whispers, softly brushing his lips on the corner of your mouth.

You hum, “Maybe.”

“Good.” He pulls you to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. You try your best to remain calm, although, if you were alone, you’d probably be jumping all over the ground. “By the way. Ho told you I was talking about you?”

“Ward... Didn’t know you were so devoted, Cameron.” You say with a giggle. He snorts and rolls his eyes.

“That old…” he mumbles, “Well. I can’t imagine otherwise.”

The corners of your mouth rise. You turn your head to the country club. “Don’t you think we should—”

You step back, or rather try to, but Rafe quickly pulls you back to him. “They’ll be fine.”

You let out a hitched breath.You don’t know what this exactly is. Or how it’ll go.

But you trust the universe with this one.

okay well !!! since you’ve reached this moment of the post i’d like to thank every single one of you for being as excited as i am for this one shot to come out, and sharing your energy with me through the comments asks etc. while i didn’t answer every single one of them, i want you to know that i see them, and i’m so so grateful.

this was super fun for me to write and for the first time i’ve felt such a motivation!!!

i know it’s kinda weird to get this dramatic about it but seriously, it means the world to me, especially considering that i started what, a month ago??

there’s not a SINGLE nonchalant bone in my body

i’m rambling now so as the ending note i hope you all enjoyed it ;)) tysm for waiting and sticking around, love youuu

| ۶ৎ taglist (thank you for liking it sm!! love you) :

@maybankslover @hypnotizedstarkey @akobx @f4irywor1d @binforfeelings @belle101200 @jkrafe @enjoymyloves @eloiavicki @thescooponsof @drewwhor @fallingwallsh @pillowprincess4him @mima116 @lex1031 @stayjellasbitches @dedpoetess @teenwolfbitches28 @drewrry @wellwellhereiam @tequilawithissues @houisfuck28 @midsoulz @whydoineedastupiduser @ltristessedureratoujours @eloiavicki @emeloyy @rafecameronsbitch @perfectmenarefictional @sunflower-hood @buckyssbestgirl @faithywaithy2006 @angvl3tears @lmg-stilinski24 @crybabyreads @enjoymyloves @lvrsvfx @drewstarkeytruelove @otheliesstuff @watersquirtpewpewboomm @drewstarkeyslover

if i missed anyone i'm SO sorry i tried to keep up

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Silver Lining 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, speech impediment, bullying and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: silverfox!Bucky Barnes

Summary: You have an unpleasant encounter with an older man.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You yawn as you look into the barren depths of your cup. Bucky sits up and rolls his shoulders, a dimple in his cheek. He looks you over as you furrow your brow curiously; do you have something on your face?

“W-what?” You bat your lashes.

“Should've got ya something with caffeine,” he says.

“Oh… little l-late,” you look over as the baristas wipe the counters. It's almost closing time, “s-s-speaking of-f.”

“Mm, yeah, I suppose,” he slides over his stapled papers, “you got all my notes. When I get back, we'll figure out the final draft and get the mic going.”

“S-sounds g-good,” you stutter and swallow another yawn. When you're tired, you can barely speak straight. “I sh-should head ou-out.”

You chomp down as yet another yawn rolls up your throat and your eyes nearly roll back. You smile as best you can and stand, grabbing your bag to pack up. He gets to his feet and pulls on his jacket.

“I'll give you a ride,” he offers.

“No, n-no, it's o-okay–”

“You shouldn't walk,” he looks outside as the night contrasts the white ground, snow still piling high.

“J-just as bad d-driving,” you comment.

“I got snow tires,” he insists, “really, I'd… I'd feel bad if you walked.”

“Y-you would?” You snort.

He gives you a look. That look. The one that warns caution. You put your hands up defenselessly.

“Fine, I-I'll let y-you drive m-me,” you surrender. “B-b-but you should know, I'm n-not that h-ho-hopeless.”

“Never said you were,” he pulls a beanie over his gray hair, “not a big fan of the cold myself.”

“Yeah, i-it probably m-makes your b-bones hurt,” you slide your arms into your coat.

“You making fun of me?” He scowls.

“No-o, I just… my st-stepdad always says–”

“It's fine. It does,” he sniffs, “cracked a few ribs playing ball in college. They never heal right.”

“Ouch,” you hook your bag on your shoulder.

“You got a curfew?” He checks his watch.

“Wh-what? I-I'm thirty,” you exclaim.

He chuckles. That takes you off guard.

“I know, I'm not too old to make jokes too.”

“Y-yeah, I w-wasn't–”

“Relax, it's fine. Better go before we're snowed in,” he leads you to the door, thanking the staff as he opens the door and waits for you to go ahead of him.

Well, there might blizzard brewing outside but he seems to be thawing.

🩶

You get home to a quiet house. Your sister, Kira, hushes you as you come upstairs, her children already asleep. She has a clay mask on as she hogs the bathroom going through her nightly routine. You dip into your room and hide.

You didn't expect them to wait up for you. That's ridiculous, but no one even asked about the job. It must be the excitement of a full house. Your sister does everything right so of course they'd want to focus on her. Maybe tomorrow.

You get in your pajamas and settle into bed. It’s hard to still your mind and the jittery energy still swirling inside of you. You put on a lofi video and let it play as you close your eyes. You have the weekend to make the last tweaks and you’ll finally be onto the next step. You hope.

You spend Saturday penned up in your room, hunched over at your desk as you go through the notes from your meeting. As the clock ticks close to noon, your phone vibes, drawing you back to the land of the living. You rub your eye sockets and groan. You need to eat.

You check your phone; you have a message. You flick your thumb up and blink at the text. It’s Bucky. You still haven’t saved him as a contact, recognising him only by the last four digits of his number.

‘Quick pitstop. Forgot to ask last night. How can I pay you?’

You chew your thumb as you think. That’s the awkward part. Even though you’re doing work, it’s still a bit strange. It isn’t like a company where the money just pops into your account on schedule. 

‘I can give details when you get back. Hate to add stress to your trip.’

You hit send and sit back, stretching your neck. Your phone buzzes again. You don’t expect a quick response.

‘Asking now. Will be heading into no reception. Wanted to pay you for scriptwork. Will pay rest after recording.’

Your stomach knots. You’re trying to be polite but you can’t deny that you could use the money. With Christmas tiptoeing closer, you should really get on gift shopping.

‘Right. I have Venmo.’

You tap the arrow and wait. He doesn’t answer right away. When he answers, it’s just the thinking emoji, followed by another text.

‘I’ll figure that out. Do I need your email or something?’

You sweep away the chat and tap into your app. You copy your payment code and paste it into the chat. You follow it with a quick message; ‘should prompt you how. If you need to wait, it’s fine.’

Thumbs up. That’s it. You accept that. To be fair, from him, it’s an improvement. It seems you’ve found a tenuous truce with him. You’ll take that if it means you’re not scooping into your savings.

You can hear your sister and mother gabbing as you leave your room. You stop at the top of the stairs and brace yourself. Things didn’t exactly leave off on the best terms.

You descend and sneak past the dining room where they sit and sort through your mother’s vast Christmas card collection. You’re careful not to draw any attention as you enter the kitchen and quietly pop a pod into the keurig and set your mug on the tray.

Your coffee brews with a grind, giving away your endeavour. You don’t look back as you hear the scuff of slippers. Kira enters and clinks her empty cup down on the counter not far from you. She couldn’t wait until you finished.

“So, how was your job? A bit late to be rushing off to work.”

“It’s f=freelance,” you say. “It’s g-g-good.”

She scoffs, “ah, well, that’s great. You can get out of mom and dad’s hair soon enough.”

“Y-yeah,” you agree, cheeks scalding with embarrassment, “w-working on i-it.”

“Oh, I’m sure. You know, Catherine called me the other day…” she mentions your previous coworker, her friend from college, “guess she got a promotion.”

You nod. She’s goading you. What does she expect you to say? Does she expect you to apologise for leaving a bad situation?

You take your cup of coffee and sidle away. She chuckles, the way she always does when you don’t feed into her drama. Her mug hits the tray heavily.

“I’ll tell her you say hi,” she preens.

You keep going without an answer. You yawn as you come upstairs and hear whispers ahead of you. You rush forward, sloshing hot coffee onto your hand as you approach your open door. Why didn’t you close it?”

As you get to the threshold, there’s a sudden clatter and you gasp. Jamie sits in your desk chair as your laptop lays face down on the floor. Casey is underneath the desk tugging on the power cord. You shriek and sloppily slam the mug onto the shelf mounted just beside the door.

“W-w-w-what are you d-d-doing?” Your emotion overwhelms your voice, “how–”

You hear footsteps rush up the stairs and Kira hisses as she marches down the hall, “shhh, my kids are sleeping.”

“No, th-they aren’t,” you hurry forward and take Jamie out of the chair. As you shoo Casey, your sister enters your room.

“Don’t hurt him,” she demands.

“Wh-what? I w-wouldnt–”

“Don’t touch my kids,” she comes forward and scoops up Casey then takes Jamie’s hand, “they’re just curious.”

You bend down to pick up your laptop. You turn it over and find lines streaked up in a spectrum. Smashed. Broken. Demolished.

“They b-broke it,” you whimper.

“Ugh, whatever,” she hauls her kids back to the door, “it’s just a computer.”

You stare at the ruins and shake your head at her back. What are you going to do?

[blackberryshortcake]

A Quest?

So, I'm sort of well aware that the Black Butler fandom is basically dead, but I've had this fic rolling around in my head for a WHILE now and I figured I'd give it a shot. I did my best to grammar check this so forgive me if there are mistakes.

Sebastian Michaelis x FemReader <3

Warnings: this fic will contain mature content such as foul language alcohol consumption, smoking, general inappropriate behavior (MDNI 18+), mentions of blood, weapons, and death

If you are sensitive to any of the above warnings pass this one up.

Synopsis: A child of Dionysus long reserved and practically retired from the world of gods and monsters finds herself on impromptu quest with a demon, his master and her trusted companion Odysseus (a large black dog gifted to her by Hades, the god of the dead).

Will she survive or will she perish like so many demigods before her....

The heavy door to the small cabin slammed shut behind her as soon as it opened, shaking the snow from her boots so as not to drag it through the whole house. A sigh fell from Y/N’s lips as she looked over at the unlit fireplace and the large black German shepherd in front of it.

“Ody?” The dog lifted its head in response rather than get up and trot over to its owner.

“Lazy dog,” she muttered under her breath as she shrugged off the many layers she had put on before venturing out into the snow.

“They're saying we're gonna get a lot of snow tonight, you know.” She spoke to the dog as though he would talk back. “I stacked some firewood on the porch just in case we get snowed in.” The dog did not reply, merely content with sleeping the afternoon away instead of entertaining the girl's odd tendencies.

............................

At this point, the sun had long set. The wind howled wildly outside the cabin, and the snow was borderline white-out. It didn't bother her much, though. That's what she got for moving somewhere so remote, merely because it meant she wouldn't have to pay a mortgage. Y/N had just sat down with a book and a whiskey when the lights suddenly cut out. The soft music that had been playing from the Alexa in the corner of the room was now silent.

A sigh fell from her lips once more as she reached for her phone, turning on the flashlight.

“Ody, move. I gotta go check the generator.” The dog merely groaned before jumping off the young woman's lap to take his place in front of the fire. After pulling on a few layers and a winter coat, she headed out the back door to the small shed that sat about 100 yards from the house.

“I should have anticipated this damn thing would freeze,” she muttered as she kicked it, hoping maybe, just maybe, it would start back up.

“Damn.”

The trek back to the house was short but still difficult due to the sheer amount of snow on the ground.

“Ody? Looks like we're gonna have to go into town tomorrow.”

There was no response from the large black dog; the only sound was the fire cracking in the hearth.

“What do you say we curl up on the couch tonight?”

One might think the girl was lonely, living out here all by herself with nothing but her dog to keep her company. Sometimes she was lonely, but not tonight. The snowstorm raged outside, the cabin was dark, but the chill had yet to set in. Tonight, she felt safe, knowing that not a monster in sight would dare attack her with conditions the way they were outside. Tomorrow, however, she would have to venture into town to purchase the means to fix the generator. Tomorrow could wait, though. Tonight, she sat curled up on the couch, a fire in the hearth, and Ody curled into her side. Tomorrow could wait.

............................

The first thing she noticed when she awoke was that Ody was no longer curled into her side like usual.

“Ody?” Her voice was hoarse from sleep. Her eyes peeled open to reveal not the wooden walls of her humble abode but a lavish guest room with wallpaper you'd probably see in your grandmother's house.

“What the fuck?” She was no longer on her couch under a mountain of blankets but tucked neatly into an ornate queen-sized bed that looked like it belonged in a museum. Before she could get another thought—or perhaps insult—on the room's furnishings, a sharp knock came upon the door. Her head snapped over to the mahogany door as the knocking was heard again.

A smooth voice came from the other side: “Madam, are you awake?”

Before the voice on the other side could say another word, Y/N threw open the door, half-expecting some sort of chimera to be on the other side. But alas, it was not. Her eyes drank in the sight of the man before her. He was taller than her, but not by much. His hair was pitch black, and his skin was practically a shade warmer than milk.

“Where am I?” The words came out as more of a demand than a question.

“You are at the Phantomhive estate, Madam. My staff found you and your dog on the front steps this morning, unconscious. May I ask how you came to be there?” Hearing him speak more than a few words threw her off even more. Why did he sound British?

“Ody?” she asked. The confusion on his face made her realize she needed to clarify.

“My dog, his name is Ody—where is he?”

“He is being attended to by the servants. I believe my young master would like to have a word with you.”

“‘Young master?’” she muttered under her breath. A million thoughts were running through her head. Am I dead? Maybe this is a sick prank by the gods. Or I was poisoned. Or maybe this is a test. Or…..

The man's voice cut off her spiraling thoughts as he cleared his throat and gestured for her to come with him.

“Perhaps a chat with the young master might clear something up, Miss…?”

“Y/N.”

“Miss Y/N.”

He led her through the halls of what she could only assume was some sort of mansion. The silence was palpable before the man, whom she assumed was a butler—he was certainly dressed like one—spoke once more.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Miss Y/N, where are you from? Your accent is quite odd.”

“Oh, I’m from America. You can just call me Y/N. There’s no need for formalities.”

There was something odd about this man she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps it was his amber eyes, or maybe it was the reeking smell of the underworld that leaked out of him. He smelled like the river.

“Whereabouts in America?” How far away was this master of his? They’d been walking for like five minutes.

“Well, I’m originally from New York, but I live in Pennsylvania.”

“I see.”

“I see.” What the fuck does that mean?

They came to a stop in front of a large door. The dark-haired man raised his right hand, and a sharp knock befell the door. A quiet “Come in” was heard on the other side. The butler swiftly opened the door and gestured for her to enter before closing it, all but blocking the only exit. The office was larger than she expected. A large leather chair spun around to face her as she stepped forward to stand in front of the desk.

A boy?

A boy no older than 14 sat in the chair with a rather bored look on his face. His elbow came to rest on the desk before he spoke: “My butler tells me you and your dog were found unconscious on the steps in rather odd attire.”

“Uhh, yeah. I was sort of hoping you knew how I got here. See, all I remember is going to sleep last night and waking up here.” She shifted nervously where she stood, ready for whatever illusion had been placed on her to fall away any second.

“I see. Well, perhaps we should start with this. What are yours and your dog’s names?” The boy seemed rather amused by the whole situation, which only made her more nervous. She fiddled with the ring on her right hand.

“I’m Y/N, and my dog’s name is Ody.”

“Ody, and what is that short for?”

“Odysseus.” The tall butler crept closer, still blocking the path to the exit door. She could feel his looming presence as well as some odd magic that connected him to the boy.

“Interesting.” Was all he said before, in the blink of an eye, she had leapt to the side as the creepy butler attempted to grab her. The white steel ring on her right hand transformed into a double-edged sword.

She pointed it at the man in question. “What the hell are you?” Her words were as sharp as the heavy short sword in her hands.

His eyes were glowing at this point, and the boy still sat in his chair, ever amused by the situation at hand.

“I could ask you the very same question. You certainly aren't mortal.” The man’s voice had changed slightly. It seemed as though he was no longer keeping up the harmless servant façade.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Dionysus.”

The boy's eyes widened slightly at her response. “It seems you were indeed correct, Sebastian. It appears she is from another world.”

Her eyes flicked between the boy and the monster she had come to know as Sebastian.

“Okay, what the fuck is going on here?”

Although taken aback by her brashness, the child formulated a response. “So tell me, are you truly a demigod?”

“Yes, and what are you? A fury?” She kept her sword pointed at Sebastian as she inched closer to inspect his face.

Sebastian only smirked before taking a finger and pushing the sword away from his face. “I assure you, I am not a monster—”

“I beg to differ. You reek of the underworld, and I can see the seal binding you to that kid. So I’m going to ask you this once—”

“Where am I, and where is my dog?” Y/N raised the sword to the monster’s throat.

“I assure you, madam, there is no need for animosity. We wish you no harm. Sebastian only wanted to ensure you were not a threat.” The boy’s voice cut through her racing thoughts.

Her head snapped over to him. “And how do I know you're not going to try and kill me, or let your monster eat me for lunch?”

“I assure you, if I wanted to harm you, I would have done so already.” Sebastian's voice was dark, and his face contorted into a falsely polite smile. Y/N lowered her sword, not yet content on putting it away but rather at ease.

“You're creepy. So what exactly are you?” she said while popping her hand on her hip.

“I am but a humble butl—”

The boy cut him off. “He's a demon, Sebastian. Cut the charade and go fetch us tea.”

“As you wish, my lord.” He placed a hand over his heart and bowed slightly before taking his leave. It was like a switch flipped, and he was a normal butler again.

“Please sit. There is much to discuss.” The boy gestured to the armchair in front of his desk. “I must properly introduce myself. I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive.”

“Cool, cool. So what year is it?”

“1889.”

“You're kidding, right?” She deadpanned.

“I assure you I do not ‘kid.’”

“That’s great, just great.” She slumped back in her chair with frustration, willing the heavy sword in her lap to return to its previous state as the steel ring on her right hand.

“And what year is it where you are from?” Ciel seemed almost hesitant to ask the question, as though he almost couldn't believe her story.

“2025. It was January 14th, 2025.”

His eyes widened in surprise, although he kept his composure.

“I just can't believe this is happening. I mean, this has to be a trick by the gods, right?” Y/N asked Ciel as though he knew her or even the answer to such a ridiculous question. She straightened her posture in her chair before continuing. “You know, you don't seem so put off by the fact that a supposed time traveler slash world traveler appeared at your doorstep.”

“My butler is a demon, and you believe I would be put off by such circumstances?”

“Fair enough. Now, how demon-y are we talking? Like straight from hell demon or like biblical demon?”

“Is there a difference?” Ciel took a second to really take a look at the odd woman before him. Her clothing, for one, was odd. She wore a sort of long-sleeve shirt that was clearly old and black. The front read the words Camp Half-Blood with a pegasus on it. Her hair was lazily thrown up in a bun, and her pants were borderline scandalous with how tight they clung to her body.

Her voice cut him out of his thoughts. “I mean, probably. I’ve never met a demon. Oh, I have met an Eudaemon, which is sort of like a demon.”

A short knock on the door cut the conversation short as Sebastian entered the room with Ody in tow.

“Pardon me, my lord, but the mutt would not stay with the servants.” Ody ran into the room before jumping on the young demigod.

“Ody!” she shouted as the dog showered her in affection. Although he seemed to have calmed down slightly, his tail still ran a million miles a minute as he sat down in front of his owner.

“He probably could smell me on you.”

Sebastian's disdain for the dog was showing as he glared holes into it.

“What's your problem? Not a dog person?” she teased.

“No. Not particularly.”

“Well, Odysseus isn’t any old dog. He’s from the underworld. He was a gift from Hades when I turned 18.”

“So he’s a hellhound?” asked Ciel.

“Sort of. It’s kind of complicated and basically requires a degree in Greek theology to understand, but yeah, you could think of him as a hellhound.”

Ciel seemed to ponder a bit as Sebastian poured the tea.

“I will allow you to stay here while you figure out how to get home, but you must stay out of sight while the manor has guests. Do you understand?” She sensed an ulterior motive to Ciel’s offer but couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“I mean, yeah, I guess so.” Am I really saying yes to staying with the crazy kid and his pet demon?

“Sebastian, where is the bag you found with her?”

“This bag, my lord.” Her eyes trailed over to Sebastian as he held the bag in question.

“What the hell?”

“Something the matter?” Ciel asked.

“Yeah, that’s my questing backpack that was in my closet. How did it end up here?”

The demon tilted his head. “Questing?”

For not liking dogs, he sure acts like one.

“Uh, yeah. It’s kind of hard to explain, but most half-bloods have a bag they take on quests with them. Although most half-bloods don’t go on more than one quest in their life, since it’s here, I’m almost starting to think I didn’t end up here on accident.”

“Ah, sort of a divine plan?” Sebastian teased.

“Yeah, actually. Or rather, most likely. I mean, how else could I have ended up here if not for the gods sending me on a quest? Although a talk with the oracle first would have been appreciated.”

She could tell by the way these two acted that they still weren't buying into the whole “the gods are real” bit, but alas, they must believe her since Sebastian could clearly sense she is a demigod.

Ciel spoke up. “So tell me, Y/N, are there any special abilities that come with being a demigod?”

She rooted through the bag, only half listening to the question at hand.

“Well, I mean, yeah, there are the basic ones—being mostly stronger and slightly faster than most humans—and then there are the godly parent-specific ones. Like, since my dad is the god of wine, among other things, I can literally turn water into wine.”

“I see. What else can you do?” Ciel turned to look at the boy straight on.

“Well, I mean, I’m pretty good with a sword. You kind of have to be when you're fighting for your life every time you step out of camp. I'm not horrible at archery. There is one other ability I inherited from my dad, though.” She trailed off.

“And that would be?” he leaned forward in his chair.

“It’s not that important.” Brushing aside the boy's probing, she focused her attention on the dog in front of her. “Sebastian, why don’t you show our guest back to her room?”

“As you wish, my lord.”

There was a look shared between the two that, if she had been none the wiser, she would have missed. A look that said “find out more about her” without the words actually being spoken.

With her backpack swung over her shoulder and her K-9 at her side, she stood ready to go and figure out what the gods wanted her here for, of all places.

...........

Chapter 2

bonus point to whoever can tell me how many times she said 'Ody'.

So, this fic isn't really a Percy Jackson and Black Butler cross over but more of a demigod ends up in Black Butler fic. It was just easier to write based on an already pre-established world of gods and monsters than to pull one out of thin air ~-~.

[kfans-writerblog]

Friends to lovers 💘

Ewan and you were at the at the local library. You were reading a romantic winter book. He then looks at you, places his finger on the book, and pulls it down.

"Would you want to go as my date? To the annual ball?"

"Yeah of course!!!" I say in suprise

*He smiles and pulls you into a hug* "Thank you so much darling" *he then chuckles* "I mean I already knew you'd say yes but it's still nice to hear it."

*i wear a long white dres and i curled my hair and look out the window waiting for him*

*he walks up to the front door and knocks. He looks amazing in a black suit. His hair was slicked back and his blue eyes gleaming*

*i open the door*

*he stares at you and his jaw drops. He's completely speechless* "Wow... You look absolutely gorgeous. You're going to blow the whole room away"

*i smile* "im exited, kinda nervous, to be honest"

*he takes your hand in his and smiles warmly at you* "You have nothing to be nervous about. You look amazing and everyone is going to love you."

*i blush and i sat in the car*

*he drives and glances at you every now and then, his hand resting on your thigh. He smiles at your blush and gives it a gentle squeeze*

*i arrive and held your hand into the house*

*He leads you into the ballroom. The place is decorated beautifully with lights, trees, and snow everywhere. People were already there, mingling and dancing*

*its a masquerade party i put on a white mask and we held hands* "im ready"

*he puts on his own mask and grins at you. He holds you closer to him as you walk through the crowd* "Perfect timing. The music is about to start"

*i start eating*

*he chuckles as you stuff your face* "You're so cute. I can't believe how hungry you are"

"Hahaha im always hungry"

"I know. It's one of the things I love about you" *he grabs you a drink and hands it to you* "Here. This should help with your appetite for now"

*i drink water* "thanks so why am i here ?"

*he smiles softly and pulls you to the side so you two are a bit more private* "I wanted you here with me. You're my best friend and I care about you. Plus I thought it would be fun to spend time with you in a fancy setting"

"I thought your family is here"

"They are. But they don't need to know I have you as my date. My parents and siblings would probably try to steal you away from me" *he laughs*

"Hahaha"

*he pulls you into his arms and looks down at you* "I just wanted to have you all to myself tonight. I don't care about what anyone else thinks. I just want to be with you"

*his parents came* "oh this must be your girl friend darling who is she"

*Ewan tenses a bit at his mother's words. He puts on a fake smile and turns to her* "This is my friend. She's not my girlfriend"

*i blush* "im y/n"

*Ewan's mom looks at you and smiles* "Y/n, what a lovely name. How long have you two been friends for?"

"9 long years"

*his mom looks at him and then back at you* "Nine years and you still haven't made her your girlfriend? I thought you had better game son"

*i blush*

*Ewan blushes as well and he wraps an arm around your waist. He pulls you closer to him, almost possessively* "Mom, we're just friends. I don't want to ruin our friendship by turning it into something more"

* Later on, i hang around the balcony*

*Ewan searches the crowd for you and eventually finds you on the balcony. He walks over and stands beside you, looking out at the view* "Hey, I've been looking for you. Why are you out here alone?"

"Oh just getting some air"

*he glances at you, noticing your distant expression* "Are you okay? You seem a bit quiet tonight. Is it the party?"

"Im ok" *i lean on him*

*he smiles and puts his arm around you again. He pulls you against his chest and kisses the top of your head* "You sure? You can tell me if something's bothering you"

"I know, but why do u kiss me when you're just a friend"

*he looks down at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and confusion* "I... I don't know. It just feels natural to do it, I guess. I'm sorry if it makes you uncomfortable"

"No, i like it, but i dont know if u like me as a fling "

*he frowns at your words and gently cups your face in his hands* "Y/n, I don't want you to be just a fling. I care about you too much for that. I don't want to risk ruining our friendship, but I also can't deny how I feel when I'm around you. You're more than just a friend to me"

"Why didn't you say so!?"

*he chuckles lightly and shakes his head* "I was afraid you wouldn't feel the same way. I didn't want to make things weird between us. I thought maybe you were just content being friends, and I didn't want to push you into something you weren't ready for"

"You like me?"

*he looks deep into your eyes, his expression serious* "Yes, I like you. I like you a lot. You're beautiful, funny, kind, and I can't help but feel protective of you. I don't want anyone else to have you. You're mine"

*i smile and kiss his cheek*

*his breath hitches at the feeling of your lips on his cheek. He looks stunned for a moment before a smirk appears on his face* "Just my cheek huh? Where's my real kiss, princess?"

"Where's the part when u say i love u, hmm?"

*he chuckles and pulls you closer. He looks at you with adoration* "I was getting there. But you're so impatient, you little tease"

*I smile*

*he leans down and brushes his lips against your ear* "I love you, princess. I've loved you for a long time now. And I want you to be mine, not just as my friend, but as my girlfriend. Officially"

*i nod and kiss your lips*

*he kisses you back passionately, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. He deepens the kiss, pouring all his feelings into it. When he finally breaks away, he's panting slightly and grinning widely* "I take it that's a yes?"

"Yes i do agree "

*he beams at your answer, his heart soaring with joy. He lifts you up and spins you around, laughing happily* "You have no idea how happy I am right now. You're mine, and I'm never letting you go"

[mahou-furbies]

It is time for

This time the event will be hosted by the green Cure Ocs, who got a little attention this year.

Mahou anime of the year:

(Wonderful Precure!, Heartcatch Precure!, Precure movies (All Stars F, Mahou Tsukai series movie), Märchen Mädchen, Sasaki & Peeps, MahoAko, MahoAku, MahoNare, Acro Trip, Magilumiere, Samurai Flamenco)

Manga:

(Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card, Shugo Chara Dream Joker, Magical Girl Dandelion, Mermaid Melody Aqua, Champignon Witch, Pretty Guardian Stress, Who Said Blues had to be Cool)

Other:

(Magical Girl Raising Project Aces, W.i.t.c.h. reboot vol2, Mermaid Melody Encore)

While 2023 was an extremely Precure year this was the opposite and I only barely managed to finish one of the backlog seasons. I'm hoping to get back on track next year and finish the remaining two, and then we're off to new adventures when that opens up slots for a different kid show mahou franchise. It'll be exciting to see which one it ends up being, I guess Doremi has a chance since I already started the first season, but that was also on a whim so anything else can also happen.

We had quite a few contests this year, starting with the favourite Precure (won by Cure La Mer), and there was the Miss Meguca contest about their outfits, with select few major characters from MagiReco (won by Madoka). And that was followed by Miss Meguca contest for casual outfits (won by Konomi) and Halloween outfits (won by Darkness Mitama). And then there was the Christmas outfits, which is still ongoing because I didn't quite have a good moment to put up the final round... Sorry about that, it'll be way out of season once it concludes but that's how it sometimes goes.

I also planned a Magireco swimsuit contest for summer, but since the game shut down at that time I thought it would have been kind of mean since I predict the air around it to be kind of negative. But I'll probably do that next summer.

Magireco shutting down was a shame since even if I didn't play, it had been a good source for new mahou designs. Though new stuff had really slowed down so it wasn't exactly a surprise.

We also had a little Halloween event with my mahou OCs, and looking for video game food items for it was a lot of fun.

Then it's time for the awards!

Best henshin design goes to the main character's Snow White transformation from Märchen Mädchen! Truly an S-tier design that has a lot of good elements but still isn't overdesigned. Let's point out the asymmetry, pale colour palette and white hair, slight gradient, winged shoes and flower colour accents. The miniskirt + long train makes foor a great combo too, it's still recognisable as a magical girl but also looks super cool.

Honourable mention to Berry Blossom from Acro Trip for the simple but super cute strawberry outfit.

Best team design goes to Heartcatch Precure! They're simple and recognisable and also include the season's flower theme.

I also want to give a shoutout to Wonderful Precure because for the first time in like a decade the Cure outfits have a recognisable visual theme going on.

Best powerup design goes to Wonderful Precure Diamond Ribbon style! I like that they're more uniform (probably too uniform since only the skirt part is different but whatever) and I'm a big fan of the way the skirt colours make a gradient.

Also not a powerup but I don't think it's something that needs its own category, but a special mention to the evil clones from the W.i.t.c.h. reboot, I'm always ready for slightly altered designs of the main characters.

Best civilian design goes to Tsubomi, specifically because of her glasses! I just can't get over what a great design element they are, and she even wore them far more often than I expected. I thought she'd completely swap them for contact lenses for marketability but no, they regularly showed up through the season!

Best school uniform goes to Mahonare! It's cute and looks refreshingly different from usual and thus fitting for a magical school. Plus look at the cute little hat! And girls can opt for poofy shorts too!

Honourable mention for the warm brown palette of the Wonderful Precure uniform, plus also giving the shorts option for girls.

Best hair goes to Yuki's civilian hair from Wonderful Precure! For being simple and elegant. I also like her Cure hair except for the "sideburns" whose length feels a bit awkward.

A honourable mention to the little stars in Byakuya's hair in MahoAku.

Best magical item goes to Byakuya's staff from MahoAku! It's simple and doesn't look like a plastic toy.

Hibana's staff (also from MahoAku) isn't bad either.

Best henshin scene goes to Byakuya from MahoAku! It's well animated and and the glowing stars are beautiful.

A shout out to Heartcatch for giving Tsubomi and Erika unique animation for their dual transformation instead of just splicing scenes from their individual henshins together.

Best fan creation goes to Mermaid Melody Encore! It has the benefit for being an extremely favourable comparison to the canon sequel, but it has a lot going for it outside that too, with an interesting premise, likable characters and appealing art.

Best relationship goes to... do I have to give this to SatoIro? I'm not a shipper and I couldn't care less about Iroha, but the confession and date episodes were really good.

Alternatively, Luna and Lis from from Champignon Witch have a really interesting tragic and complicated relationship.

Best mascot goes to Daifuku from Wonderful Precure! Has a quiet but powerful presence, indomitable, doesn't have a shrill voice, never does anything annoying, has an appealing colour scheme and perpetually looks kind of grumpy. This is peak mascot performance.

And since she photobombed the picture, let's also say that Niko has a really funny personality. And I guess a shout out to Wonderful Precure in general for doing something different with the mascots this year.

Best supporting character goes to Shade from Magical Girl Dandelion! I regret to tell I like his tumblr sexyman design and he has a super interesting and fresh dynamic with the main girl.

Best visual goes to the MahoAku title cards! There's somehow a lovely retro vibe to them.

In the general visual category I considered both Mahonare and Mahoaku. Mahonare has a more unique look, but since anime is supposed to be moving pictures I do have to dock some points due to the fact that the animation is clearly struggling. Meanwhile Mahoaku's lovely pastel style is less distinct but also looks consistently good even in moving form.

Best audio goes to All for One Forever from Precure movie F. This song slaps and makes the fight scene it accompanies incredibly epic.

"Conflict between light and darkness" from the Heartcatch OST is also a beautiful piece of music and "Fight for the future" gets you pumped up for a big fight.

The Innovation award is given to a magical girl work that I think does something fresh for the genre. This year it goes to Magical Girl Dandelion for its extremely fresh premise that still doesn't feel too tropey.

The Golden Mana award is the prize given to one thing I didn’t like.

This year it goes to the entirety of Mermaid Melody Aqua. I know I already awarded it to Lucia's design specifically a few years ago and in general I'm trying to avoid repeats, but frankly it would be disingenious to act like Aqua didn't deserve it this year since it turned out to be one of my least favourite manga ever. There's the awful heroine and irritating or irrelevant side cast, the awkward art, the weird fanservice, the lacking storytelling… the list goes on.

Dishonourable mention to the stupid side cast of Mahoaku.

Best character goes to Cure Blossom! The rare shy main Cure, great character arc, lovely design (the glasses!) and in general super sympathetic and likeable. I hope she won't remain the only of her kind among the franchise!

Best work goes to Champignon Witch! Much deliberation went on among the one-person council of Mahou Furbies if it should be eligible for any of the awards since it's clearly not a magical girl series, but then again neither is Petite Princess Yucie and I rewarded it last year. So let it be known that from now on anything I deem mahou enough to warrant a review post on this blog is also qualified for awards.

But anyway, Champignon Witch has a lovely fairytale setting, unique story, likable characters, magical art, melancholic mood and S-tier outfits. I'm really looking forward to the anime next year!

If you think only actual magical girl works should qualify, then you can think that Magical Girl Dandelion is the winner; so far there aren't a lot of chapters out of it yet so even on that grounds it might be a bit too early for it, but for what there is to judge I've liked everything about it. Heartcatch Precure is also a good contender, but it does have the typical kid show tropes holding it back so it's harder for a Precure season to win when there's actual competition aimed at an older audience.

Plans for 2025:

I also intend to get back to MagiPro, finally reading Aces was really fun but then I hit the Episodes filler books and the progress halted.

The new Madoka Exedra game is also coming out, though I'm not particularly excited. I have no intention of playing it (gacha eww), and also since it's 3D I'm under the impression that adding new characters requires more effort, which would probably mean less new or obscure characters and more focus on the old favourites.

Art-wise I want to create the missing green Cures for the three newest seasons at least, and also finally do something more with the DPPC. Though that's what I say every year...

[trulybetty]

no flights tonight | part two.

pairing: modern day au!pero x f!reader word count: 3,054 warnings: nothing major, we're still in G territory, no translations, advance apologies for any of my poor spanish summary: with flights delayed due to the snow, and a wedding to attend, you find yourself stranded at the airport and with the last person you want to run into, your ex. ao3: linked

x. series masterlist

Part Two.

The roads were terrible.

You wouldn't admit it, but you were glad Pero had taken the responsibility of driving. You had enough anxiety as a passenger, watching as the car skidded, only for Pero to correct it with an ease that suggested he hadn’t grown up in the warm climates of Spain. However, even with the limited light, you could make out the whites of his knuckles where they gripped the steering wheel.

The car was silent. Five minutes in the two of you had ended up bickering over the radio before you’d declared that you’d rather have silence than listen to Pero’s choice. You weren’t sure how you’d forgotten who you were dealing with, but Pero had called your bluff—both of you as stubborn as the other as you both festered in the drawn-out silence.

Outside the snow seemed to be coming down thicker, making your stomach churn even more when Pero righted the car from fishtailing again.

“We’re going to have to find somewhere to—” Pero’s voice cut off as the wind howled and another gust of snow flung itself against the windshield. His knuckles flexed on the steering wheel and you could practically feel the frustration radiating off of him.

Which did nothing to stop the spike of anxiety that shot through you and you bit your lip to stop it from showing on your face. “To what?” you finally managed.

“Pull over,” he finished, a rare tremor of hesitation in his voice, “We can’t keep pushing through this.”

You squinted at the endless stretch of snow that lay ahead of you. Streetlights, if there were any, were lost to the storm, and the car’s headlights struggled to illuminate more than a few feet in front of the car. Every time you exhaled, you realized you’d been holding your breath.

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you, your stomach felt like it was tangled in knots. “Okay.”

For a moment, you thought he was going to snap back at you with a snide comment—something about actually agreeing with him—but he stayed quiet, narrowing his eyes as he focused on the road ahead. The wipers scraped across the windshield, doing nothing more than smearing the whiteout from one side to the other.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” he muttered, voice taunt as he shifted down a gear and. the car notably slowed.

You didn’t respond, you were too busy trying to steady your breathing as you white-knuckled the grab handle above as another gust of wind hit the car. It was only moments later when what looked like a neon sign flickered ahead, you squinted as you leaned forward in your seat trying to make out what it said.

“Is that what I think it is?” you asked, voice quiet, unsure if you believed it yourself.

Pero sucked in a breath, “We're going to have to take our chances. Whatever it is, it’s probably going to be the best we're going to get tonight.”

You didn't argue, you were too cold, too tired and just grateful at the idea of being off the road.

“This is why people hate the holidays,” Pero grumbled, battling with the steering wheel.

He turned into the motel parking lot, one that was already worryingly full, and wrestled the car into an open spot that was half-covered in a snowdrift. The tires crunched over the icy lot as the car came to a reluctant stop. Pero let out a sharp breath through his nose, his grip finally loosening on the wheel. For a second neither of you moved or said a thing. The only sound was the quiet hum of the engine almost lost on the howl of the wind outside.

“Well,” he said, breaking the tension as he switched off the headlights followed by the wipers, “this looks … cozy,” he said, peering through the window at the very obviously dated motel.

“You’ve got to admit, it’s kinda pretty though, with the snow,” you remarked, trying to shoot some positivity into the situation.

Pero snorted in response, though there was a tinge of amusement in his eyes, “That’s because you’re looking at it from inside a heated car.” he replied, pointing at the thermostat that was turned all the way up as well as the red light indicating your seat warmer was switched on. He also looked over and saw you were still holding on to the grab handle with a fierce grip. “You can let go now,” he remarked dryly as he turned off the engine, “we made it here in one piece.”

He grabbed his coat from the backseat and shoved open his door against the wind. Snow immediately swirled in, biting at your face and making you shiver. You watched as he climbed out of the car, shutting the door quickly behind him, and you braced yourself before there was a dull thump on the roof of the car. Pero signalling for you to get a move on. You rolled your eyes, muttering something under your breath about his lack of patience, but you grabbed your purse and braced yourself for the cold.

Inside, the motel lobby was small and cluttered, the air smelled of stale coffee and damp carpet. You looked over at the display of touristy brochures and maps and could clearly see a thin blanket of dust indicating it had been a long time since anyone had any interest in exploring anything in the area.

Pero had shouldered his way in first, his broad shoulders almost blocking his view as he spoke to the clerk.

"Do you have any rooms available?" he asked, his voice low but firm.

The clerk pushed up from his chair looking apologetic, you braced yourself as the look on their face mirrored that of the rental agency clerk who had told you there were no cars left. There was no way you could be out on that road and it was too cold to sleep in the car.

An ask to stay in the lobby was on your tongue when he finished their review of the internal system and to your surprise, he gave you both a smile.

"You're in luck—we've got one room left, single bed."

You froze. Pero's head tilted ever so slightly, the only sign he was processing the information—a blink and you'd miss it moment if he wasn't someone you’d known so intimately. His sigh, long and slow, pulled you from your thoughts as he handed over his credit card without even consulting you.

"Seriously?" you hissed, stepping in closer while the clerk was running his card. "You didn't even ask me."

He glanced over his shoulder at you, his expression all but flat. "What? Do you think I like this? If you want to sleep in the car, go ahead. Está ahí afuera, bien frío. I’ll take the bed.”

"I meant I could have paid," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

His lips twitched, not quite a smile though, "¿Y qué? Would that make you feel better? Fine. Pay me back later."

The room was small, and for all intents and purposes, a textbook motel room. Mismatched furniture and a bed that took up most of the space. Pero dropped both of your bags by the door and eyed the room critically.

"Cozy," he muttered, the sarcasm dripping.

"You're taking the couch."

He raised an eyebrow at you, "Obvio," he replied, already pulling off his jacket and tossing it onto the armrest of the very obviously lumpy sofa and you bit back a wince but not wanting to take back your words, "Not my first time sleeping somewhere uncomfortable," he continued.

As you inspected the bed, you heard the sound of the heater spluttering followed by a groan. Turning around Pero was crouched by the wall unit. His calloused fingers working quickly, adjusting the settings before giving the thing a firm smack when it seemed to refuse to cooperate, "Piece of mierda. Work, carajo!"

You narrowed your eyes at him, unimpressed, "Has this bossing people around thing ever actually worked for you?" You asked, your tone a little sharper than you intended.

He didn't look up, but you caught the faintest hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, "Well, this thing listens better than you ever did."

You glared at him and your retort was lost on the roar of the heater coming to life, sending a wave of warmth through the room.

"There," he said, standing and brushing his hands off on his jeans. "If we don't kill one another first, at least we won't freeze to death. You're welcome."

Pero had mentioned something about getting the bags and then something about food. Despite his guaranteed hunger at any given hour, you were surprised that he hadn't brought up the topic of food earlier.

His return to the room was with the gust of cold air that whipped through the room and around your ankles and the punctuated curses in Spanish as he forced the door closed and locked as the wind tried to push its way through. You did your best to ignore the muttering under his breath as you rifled through your suitcase for something to sleep in. You were about to pull out your sleepwear when a Twix landed on top of the clothes. You looked at the chocolate bar and then up at Pero.

“I know they’re your favourite,” he mumbled around a mouthful of candy, “unless that’s another thing that’s changed.”

You bit back a remark about him knowing about change all too well, the rumble of your stomach betraying you before you could summon any kind of snark. Instead, you grabbed the Twix and unwrapped it, “Thanks,” you said quietly, not looking at him as you took a bite.

Pero grunted in response, tossing his half-eaten candy wrapper onto the small table in the corner. The silence that followed wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t exactly hostile either. Glancing at your watch and seeing the late hour you decided to change for the night.

As you rummaged through your suitcase, you suddenly stopped when you reached the items you had packed as sleepwear for the trip. You never anticipated that anyone else would be seeing them, you certainly hadn’t expected Pero’s company. You swiftly grabbed the clothes and hugged them to your chest, hoping that your actions had gone unnoticed by him.

“You still have that?”

His voice was low, almost thoughtful, and when you turned to look at him, he wasn’t eating anymore, his vending machine stash put aside. His gaze was fixed on the fabric in your arms—the threadbare old shirt you’d stolen from him back when things were good. Back when sharing a bed wasn’t an issue and grabbing his shirt from the floor after one of those lazy Sunday mornings was second nature.

“Yes,” you clutched the purple shirt to your chest, you hadn’t even realized you’d packed it. Muscle memory, perhaps. Now it felt bolder than the neon sign outside, screaming unfinished business in capital letters.

He shrugged, “Just surprised,” he finally replied, “that you’d keep it.”

You swallowed hard, trying to keep your face neutral as you smoothed the folded purple shirt hugged against your chest, “It’s comfortable,” you said, a little too defensively. “Anyway, it’s not like you wanted it back.”

However, the truth was a little more complicated than that. The shirt—his shirt—had somehow survived every closet purge since the spring. You couldn’t really explain why—or at least admit it to yourself—but every time your hand hovered over it, ready to toss it into a donation bag, you found an excuse. Too soft to get rid of. Good for lounging. Nothing else quite fit the same way. Lies, all of them.

He didn’t say anything at first, just leaned back against the edge of the table, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched you with that silent scrutinizing gaze he was too good at. His brown eyes had that familiar intensity, the kind that used to make you feel like he could see through any pretence you tried to put up. It was infuriating then. It was infuriating now.

“Comfortable, huh?” he finally said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something between a smirk and an almost smile. “Right,” he dragged out.

You scowled at him before turning your back and yanking out your pyjama bottoms with perhaps more force than necessary. You could feel his gaze lingering on you even as you stomped into the bathroom to change, slamming the door a little harder than intended.

The wind pounded against the thin window, snow already building up on the ledge outside as the two of you settled into your respective sides of the room. Returning from the bathroom, changing into your sleepwear and completing one or two steps from your nighttime routine, you tried to ignore Pero sprawled awkwardly on the too-small couch, his long legs hanging over the edge.

Slipping under the covers, you tried to ignore the way his broad frame looked so out of place, focusing instead on scrolling through your phone.

But the Wi-Fi was terrible, and the silence just continued to stretch.

"You good over there?" you asked, breaking the silence.

"Qué?"

"The couch, is it okay?"

He shrugged as he continued reading, "I've slept on worse. At least it's not a tent in the middle of the desert—though I'd take the heat right now." He paused, "And you don't snore. Much."

Silence befell the room again.

Finally, sitting up, you sighed. "This is ridiculous, you know that right?"

Holding his book above him, he flipped a page lazily without looking over at you, "What is?"

"This. Us. Acting like two strangers forced to share a room."

You could see his jaw tighten and he didn't respond right away. Instead, he shifted on the couch, adjusting the pillow behind his head. "We are two strangers now. Aren't we? Isn't it what you wanted, no?"

His words hit harder than you expected, a blow to your gut, and for a moment you didn't know what to say. The only sound was Pero flipping another page of his book as if dismissing the conversation.

"Goodnight," you finally muttered, turning off your lamp, and rolling over.

"Buenas noches cariño," he replied, so quietly, that you weren't entirely sure you'd imagined it.

You didn’t know what time it was when you woke, but you were startled awake by the sound of muttered curses, low and sharp, cutting through the stillness of the room and over the howl of the wind outside.

“¡Coño! Maldita cosa…”

You pushed yourself up on your elbow, turning on your side squinting into the dark. Pero was still on the couch, but twisting his long frame in a futile attempt to get comfortable. One arm dangled over the side, his legs bent at awkward angles. Even the pillow under his head looked like it'd given up entirely. He shifted again, the springs creaking beneath him as he let out an exasperated huff.

"What is going on?" you mumbled, your voice rough with sleep.

"Go back to sleep," he snapped, though his words lacked any real bite. He shifted again, his movements stilled by a dull thump of his limbs hitting something solid, "…Chingado… puta cama pequeña…"

You felt the growing chill in the air, "The heater's out, isn't it?" you asked.

"Sí. Died a good death. Like a hero," he muttered, as he sat up rubbing a hand over his face, "It's fine. Just go back to sleep."

But it wasn't fine. The room already had dropped in temperature again since you’d been woken, and watching him fight with that miserable excuse for a couch was almost painful. You sighed, sitting up fully and pulling the blankets next to you, back.

"Just get in the bed, Pero."

His head snapped toward you, in the dark you could feel the intensity of his stare, caught between confusion and disbelief, "Sorry?"

"You heard me," you waved a hand to the empty space beside you, "there's enough room for both of us. We're adults, me yes, you questionable," you heard him growl, "we can sleep in the same bed without it being a big deal, no?"

He stated at you like you'd just suggested something far more outlandish, "I'm not taking your bed."

"It's not my bed. It's a bed, Pero." you countered, your patience starting to fray, "and I'm not going to lie here listening to you curse at the couch all night."

"I'm fine—"

"You're not fine," you interrupted, throwing the blanket back further and sliding to the edge of the bed, the room was freezing now. "You're too big for that thing, and you're going to freeze if you're going to bet on that heater suddenly coming to life any time soon."

Pero didn't respond immediately, his eyes narrowing as though weighing his options. Finally, he muttered something in Spanish—too quiet and too fast for you to catch—and stood, running a hand through his hair.

"Fine," he grumbled, his tone irritated, though you noticed the way he hesitated at the edge of the bed. "But if you kick me, I'm going back to the couch."

"You kick me, and I'm kicking you back," you said, laying back down and pulling the blanket over yourself.

He eased onto the mattress cautiously, as though it might collapse beneath his weight. He shifted onto his side, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible, his back to you. The bed dipped slightly under his weight, but it was warmer almost instantly, his body heat a welcome relief against the icy air.

The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of the wind howling against the window. You could feel the tension radiating off him, even with the space he left between you.

"Better?" you asked, your voice softer now.

He didn't answer for a long moment, and when he finally did, his voice was quieter than you expected. “Yes, better.”

You rolled onto your side, your eyes drifting shut as the warmth and the familiar sound of Pero's breathing lulling you back to sleep.

[momotorin]

heard u were down for fluff asks i’m craaavvving mina content like maybe a silly snowball fight and she’s so quiet and reserved but so determined to best your ass after u throw one at her

crystal flowers

fluff | childhood friend!mina x fem!reader | as always, MEN DNI!!!!!

i'm very festive about winter (i haven't even touched snow ffs)

it's christmas break. finally, you could unclench every single muscle in your academically tired and worn body; laying flat on your best friend's penguin printed sheets.

"hey," she nudges at you, hands still steady on her controller, playing the last few chapters of zelda. (which she probably finished over the course of the semester, but she's doing it because she wants to know the other plotlines.) "move, what the hell, dude!"

"are you seriously dude-ing me right now?" you raised an eyebrow, and you scoffed, finally moving your body away from the surface of the bed to sit down. "i can't believe you."

not a single response from her. just a bunch of clicking, more clicking, and a sigh.

you pout beside her, like the little mini pincher on her lap, your adoptive child, ray-chan.

mina glares at you, one that was full of happiness as she breaks into a laugh. "what?"

"nothing," you nudged at her. "done with your game?"

"you bet," she sighs, pressing the start button to exit the game completely. "it's extra chilly today, don't you think?"

"yeah," you let out a little 'brr..' as you rubbed on your hoodie clad arms. "hot choco could be really good right now..."

mina laughs, "tell that to my mom," she says, laying on the bed, facing you. ray follows shortly after, snuggling between the space of the two of you. mina happily pets him, "i think he's bored, y/n."

"probably," you let out a little snort as you pet him as well. "he probably got bored seeing you do your little game instead of paying attention to him," you cupped ray's cheeks. "didn't you?"

"i think you're the bored one here," mina laughs. "anyways, there's a snow advisory. we can't bring him out either, you know, since he's quite..."

"yeah, i know," you sighed, petting the golden fur of ray. "but can we?"

mina smiles, lips tight and eyes closed as she stretches her legs. "park?"

"definitely," you smiled, sitting up now. "i'll buy the hot choco."

"fair enough," mina breathed as she stood up. "i'll get taiyaki then."

hours later, after a thousand nudges at mina and her controller, you squeal in joy, finally standing up and kissing ray goodbye for a while.

mina let the snowfall pass, so that you're left with leaps of snow in the park.

you sighed, the white fog coming out of your mouth.

mina looks at you, quite concerned, "what are you sighing about, pretty?"

"pretty?" you repeat, in disbelief that mina said it as a compliment. "you're trying to get me to buy the taiyaki too, don't you?"

mina blushes under her knitted scarf, "n-no," she stutters, watching the steps of her boots leave traces on the snow covered pavement. "it's just that, you're actually extra pretty today."

"quite the sweet talker, aren't you, minari?" you jokingly wrap an arm around her shoulders, almost bringing her down to your height.

you two arrived at the park shortly after. the stalls, the playground, and some kids making snow angels on the pavement; it was all too familiar with you two.

"let's go," you held mina's hand, going to the hot choco stand. "can i get two large ones please?" you asked, handing over a bill, still not letting go of mina's hand.

you two went to your favourite seat, covered in white, probably wet snow.

mina laughs as she wipes away the snow, trying to salvage her convenience of seating. "oh well," she sighs, not finding any luck. "can't believe we're standing up."

"you've been sitting for like 12+ hours in front of your nintendo switch rig, dude, even nature doesn't want you to sit anymore," you joked, blowing on your hot chocolate, cooling it down a little before it meets your tongue. "anyways, mina, mama invited you and your parents to come over at christmas eve. she's been planning a little exchange gift thing with your mom, i think."

"oh!" mina suddenly exclaimed. "mama told me about that too," she remembered. "she asked me to help her finish knitting some scarves. i think it's for your mom."

"that's so cute." you commented.

"what, you want one too?"

"of cou-" you cut yourself off mid sentence. "yeah! of course! are you going to make it for me, minari?"

mina shrugged her shoulders, "not a big deal, actually," she smiles. she's so fucking cute holding the cup on her hands with her penguin mittens on, you say at the back of your mind, the awe reflecting on your face, and mina laughs at it, "in one condition."

"what is it?"

"buy me the mclaren f1 tecnic lego set."

"mina!" you exclaimed, kicking a small dollop of snow to her. "i am generous, but i'm not a jesus type of generous. try something a little... in my budget. i could buy you one, yes, but like wow i could never with that set."

"what do you mean you could never?! your allowance is literally like... 10,000 yen more than mine. you can do it." she fakes her encouragement, trying to get you on your good side to buy the set.

"look, you have your dad. you have your mom. heck, you even have kai-san," you sighed, trying to block her request. (you actually got the set already, but you want to give it on christmas so no spoilers!) "i don't want to be like... your sugar mommy or something."

mina laughs, "i mean, you look like one all the time, why den-"

"shut up." you nudge at her as you finish your cup of hot chocolate. you two went to the nearby trash bin to dispose of both of your cups, and went back to the playground.

"well, it's good that no one's on the swing." she mentioned.

"i don't think the kids would appreciate having wet asses," you laughed, looking at your shoes. you remember, the snow was quite thick, and you pulled mina to the little valley of snow that formed on one of the slides. you form a ball, a small one, round, and threw it at her. "merry ch-"

"no." mina threw a much bigger, more scattered snowball at you, hitting your face almost.

"i'm still not getting you the set," you threw one back, and you saw mina making a bigger one. "oh-"

you run away, trying to find another dollop of snow in the park to form into a ball and throw at mina.

she hits you, directly at the back, making you slow down a bit, "you're getting me that!"

you threw one back, one of the same size, but you didn't expect that mina had a bigger one she was holding onto as she had her hand placed on her back.

you two ran around the park for a good 10 minutes, having pointless fights with snowballs. (mina argues that it could be snow triangles, snow rhombuses, or simply just snow because she just wanted to throw some at you.)

you finally settle down in the middle of the park, feeling the snow around you, not the pavement, and mina was above, attempting to throw another snowball on your face.

"stop, please," you smiled at her. "let's just... lay down, okay?"

mina gives up the moment she sees you smile. she puts the pile of snow just beside your ear, and she lays down beside you.

you reach out for her hand, like you always do, and you feel a drop of snow lay crystals on your cheek.

and it begins, the parade of a thousand pearls as you close your eyes, just feeling the snow go and whip all over your body.

mina admired you as the snow fell. at how your nose crinkles the moment snow hits the tip of your nose, how red your ears got, how your grip got tighter, and how you closed your eyes to feel.

fuck it, she says to herself, as she pulls you to her, removing her penguin mittens to fully cup your cheek, and kissing you.

you jolt your eyes open, melting into mina's touch, as the snow falls on you two.

mina pulls away, breath staggering in both anticipation and anxiety.

you smiled at her, putting your hand on the side of her waist, pulling it closer. "do you really mean it, minari?"

"i d-"

you pulled her into a kiss, once more leaving her breathless as you shared it under the snow. mina laughs, breaking the kiss, laying her forehead against yours.

the snow falls, and it fills mina's senses— the coldness, the warmth, the redness, and the sight of you looking at her with the love she's been looking for in everything.

[kvalenagle]

Hi there! Thanks so much for following my blog!

I finished your first book, Eyrie. I'll admit I lost track of things and got confused with what was important or not, but overall, I still had a great time with the book, and I've already ordered the next three entries in the series. I'll get the rest once I can afford them.

Prior to your books, I had no idea there were so many possibilities with gryphons. I've always associated them with the typical 'eagle-lion' design, although I've been looking into more owl-like concepts.

It got me thinking: Are there any gryphons in your books based on the white bellbird (the loudest bird in the world), or the shoebill stork?

Gryphons in mythology are a lot like dragons, where everyone has their own version =] Minoans loved peafowl for their bird halves, Egyptians prefer hawks and lions (with four cat paws, cat tails, and cat ears) while the Greeks had a mix of golden eagle+lion (with bird forelegs) up to owls with four bird legs. And that's before we get into the weirder gryphon cousins like keythongs!

I think there's something human about looking at mammals and birds and imagining a new creature with the best of both. And there are a few gryphon series out there who really lean into the "interesting gryphons" angle. (Kathryn Brown's A Gryphon's Trial series actually beat me to things like burrowing owl gryphons.)

You can kinda see Zeph's more-feline hawk and Cherine's more avian eagle looks as evocative of the big two Egyptian and Greek gryphons, though there's nods in characters like Younce ('ounce' in heraldry is often a leopard, sometimes a winged snow leopard) or Strix (strix were Greek monsters who sometimes were four-legged owl).

Though they're more fun references, since Belamuria is a world without humans that's very different from Earth =] Sometimes, the gryphon fangirl comes through a bit too much, I suppose.

The series doesn't have any published books with white bellbirds (I didn't recognize the name, but as soon as I saw that waddle in a photo, I remembered that bird) or shoebills. Shoebills do show up on social media as gryphon fodder on and off, and they're such a great, menacing bird.

For bird halves, just off the top of my head, I've had quetzals, Cooper's hawks, red-shouldered parrots, emerald peafowl, golden eagles, peregrine falcons, barking owls, snowy owls, grey owls, Japanese cranes, Peruvian diving petrels, Weng Hua diving petrels, sandpipers, sandy terns, shrikes, mockingbirds, golden-crowned kinglets, great blue herons, royal spoonbills, hooded pitohui, motmots, red-winged blackbirds, whistling kites, harpy eagles, kakapo, cardinals, eagle owls, European starlings, violet-backed starlings, cape glossy starlings, strawberry finches, cerulean kingfishers, osprey, mallards, white-tailed kites, sandgrouse, ruffled grouse, ptarmigans, hoopoe birds, roadrunners, burrowing owls, giant teratorn… and I'm probably missing a few.

For cat halves, it's tough since Belamuria's terrestrial mammals are mostly extinct, except for capybaras and invasive squirrel species. You don't often see them described =] But you've got a lot of North American cougars, fishing cats, flat-headed cats, van cats, Russian blues, tabby house cats of several varieties, saber-toothed tigers, leopards, jaguars, lions, cave lions, caracals, maine raccoon cats, tigers, sand cats, and… well, it starts to get spoilery if we go too far there.

The series still has a few entries left, though, so while I can't promise it'll have shoebills or white bellbirds… it might!

And definitely feel free to write your own gryphon books =] I think sometimes readers worry that gryphon authors are competitive, but we're all a very friendly, happy bunch. I love seeing someone else's series write a cool bird+cat combination I haven't thought of. Heck, I'd love if someone started an entire series solely based around burrowing owl gryphons. That'd be neat.

There are also gryphons you see a lot either as stone gargoyles decorating castles or in artwork but never in novels, and I'm not sure why. I feel like I should be able to walk into a bookstore and browse a dozen series with crow+wolf lupogryphs on the cover, maybe some vulpegryphs (fox gryphons). For the moment, though, no such luck =]

If you're ever curious about what a character looks like, the CockatielForger fan account (still active in various places online, though not here) drew fan art of every character. It's a little spoilery before, say, you're done with book seven. But if you don't mind spoilers, look under fan art, and there's a page devoted to just her artwork. Oh! But if you're listening to the audiobooks, let me know and I can send you the interior art pieces. There's usually 3-4 per book. The goal with them was to help highlight the more interesting gryphons. (Brenda Lyons was working on a cover for another writing project, and we were talking about how much we loved the gryphon interior art from old series like The Black Gryphon by Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon. Eyrie was written and advance reader copies had been sent out, but the final version hadn't gone to print yet, and there was just enough time to add in artwork. I'm glad we had that chat, since her artwork is one of my favorite parts of the series.) 

[liusheepsheep]

Saturday_Drip.mp3 _jaemin x reader_

_It's the 2010's, and you're the fashion director of the rising K-Pop group 'NCT DREAM'. Not only that though, because with time you took a special liking to one of the members, Jaemin, just like he did to you! Good for you guys, wish you the best really._

914 words - pure fluff!! - beta reader? the voices in my head - just a 3 cap series of shenanigans between jaemin and why enn. hope you guys like it !!

chapter i. sip sip it down like smoothieeee

"So?"

"Hmm…."

"Well, do you agree?"

"…No, no I don't"

Jaemin let out a sigh as he turned around to leave the sword on his set, to which you only giggled. It was the third and last day of filming for the Smoothie music video, and it was certainly not any less exhausting than the first day! You were checking for every member's looks in between takes. As part of the creative team, you made it your mission to exude the exact aesthetic you previously discussed with your coworkers and the artists.

Ah yes, the artists. Just now you were fixing Jaemin's hair after his 'fruit fighting' scenes. The CGI was yet to be there for Jaemin to actually cut through anything, but his movements on each take made him look as a true swordsman.

A very peculiar, fashion-student-looking, rosy makeup styled swordsman but one nonetheless! And his hair, don't even mention it. White as snow, complimented him so well. Just now he was trying to convince you of letting his hair fall all over his face instead of the slicked back style you were fixing from the previous scenes. Arguing that "One does not go around fighting on a slick back", and just explaining to him that "It's the whole point of an MV with a production like this one!".

He gave up on his stylistic choices, for now. You are certain that when night comes, both cuddled up in bed, he's gonna take advantage of your sleepy state and coarse you into changing your design choices. But oh, it's only 9:18 a.m, there's plenty time left for him to chase you all around set, like a lost puppy, voicing his opinions about YOUR job. How dare he!

-

"Would you drink this?"

A couple hours later you found yourself preparing the Dreamies for the last takes of production. As you were fixing his jacket, he was inspecting his cup of black smoothie, mixing it and smelling it with a confused look. "I don't think you guys are supposed to drink it though?" You answer, eyes still fixed on his jacket. He looks at you and leaves the cup to the side, adding almost in a whisper. "I'm not asking you that princess. I'm asking if YOU would drink it"

!!! You gasp and tug on his jacket for him to be more quiet, but he only chuckles. "Na Jaemin we're still on set…" You let go of him and look at the cup, "But it's probably grape juice or something". Jaemin lets out a whine and you can't help but smile at him sheepishly, he takes a quick glance at the rest of the staff, all of them busy with their tasks, to look back at you and cup your face in his hands. "I just can't believe my angel would let me drink suspicious substances! Do you not care for me anymooooore?!"

You cover your mouth to avoid giggling and having others watching, while you slightly push him away, "Oh my gosh, it's not poison! You're ready to go, get in position and you'll be all done. I guarantee you nothing bad's gonna happen".

He gladly lets you manhandle him into the set with the rest of the guys to film their last scene. You stayed in the corner with your coworkers, watching the recording, looking at your man specifically. All that for them to not even drink it…

-

Everyone was already picking up their stuff, cleaning the sets and all of it's props. Except for you and 6 other people running behind the idols. You caught up to Jaemin before he could start changing to comfier clothes, grabbing his arm and putting his Blackberry in his hand. He turned around and looked at you confused.

"The selfies, silly. Have to snap some pictures."

"Ohh, yeah, that." He smiled and walked with you to a place with good lighting. As he was taking the pictures, trying different angles, he was chatting to you.

"I still find this kind of silly."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"This… photocard thing. I don't know what marketing strategy is this, really. Like just check our socials if you want our photos!"

You shake your head at his reasoning. "I think it's a good move. Girl's Generation did it on their latest record and it seemed like people loved it. It's like collectable goodies!". Jaemin put his phone down while checking the pictures, "Oh yeah? Well I hope you only collect MY goodies then. Even if other artists start doing it as well".

Before you could respond, he grabbed you by the waist and put his phone up, snapping some quick pictures of the both of you, kissing you on the cheek for the last one.

You all finished packing your things and started walking out of the set, asking him about his schedule. "So, how's your agenda for the rest of the week?"

"Hm, just promotions for music shows. Oh, and back to the hair salon"

"Really?! Already?"

"Apparently… we're doing the main issue of i-D magazine, and the hairstylists want us to look different. I'm surprised you didn't talk about this with them."

You thought back about your conversations while working on the designs for the Music Video. "No, they didn't… Sigh, I'll have to check what outfits to give you by then."

He just smiled at you, and you both continued your walk in a comfortable silence.

"Hm… I really liked your white hair Jaem…."

[blueinkedfrost]

Betty and Veronica - Heathers

A recent rewatch of the film, considering the enigmatic Ms. Finn.

Image source

Betty Finn and Veronica Sawyer were best friends as little kids in the same small town.

They're named after Betty and Veronica from Archie Comics, where Betty is more conventional and Veronica is more wild and exotic, and after Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer from Mark Twain, where Huckleberry the orphan is more responsible and Tom the spoilt child is more lawless and fantastical.

Betty Finn and Veronica Sawyer - you'd expect them to go together like Batman and Robin, Holmes and Watson, Tintin and Haddock, Snow White and Rose Red.

Similar to their name inspirations, Betty's costume design makes her look like a conventional, modest, geeky good girl, while Veronica (the film's protagonist) is rebellious and brooding and glamorous and active.

At some point before the movie, Veronica left Betty behind, joined the popular-fashionable-girl clique the Heathers, and slowly became miserable carrying out her duties as a member of the lipgloss commissariat. This is Betty's first appearance in the film, where she excuses Veronica for standing her up.

VERONICA. Hey, [Betty], I'm really sorry I couldn't make it to your birthday party last month.

BETTY. It's okay. Your mom said you had a big date. Think I'd probably miss my own birthday for a date.

VERONICA. Don't say that.

Veronica's more popular friends soon pull her away from her brief encounter with Betty.

Then, Veronica met a boy who seemed like a rebellious loner who shared her sentiments about how awful the Heathers and their ilk and society in general were, and there was a lot of attraction, but things started to fall apart when Veronica's boyfriend pushed her into murder.

Veronica broke up with JD, still wanted to stay away from the Heathers, and called on Betty Finn to come over for croquet.

BETTY. I'm not as exciting as your other friends.

VERONICA. That is bullshit.

During the game, Betty encourages Veronica to win, putting herself down at the same time:

BETTY. Knock me out. It's the only way to win.

VERONICA. It's not my style.

BETTY. Nice guys finish last. I should know.

Although this repeated self-deprecating speech from Betty comes from humility and vulnerability, it pressures other people into providing emotional labour and comfort. Betty's self-effacing to the extent that her dialogue all but forces Veronica to comfort her, though at the time of that croquet game it's Veronica who's in the most trouble. Humility is a virtue, but this is toxic humility - the sort that warps right around to sucking all the attention in the room and wrapping it around you as the main character.

And we're not given much positive about Betty. She's a loyal friend, but she expresses that loyalty by broadcasting low self esteem, pressuring other people to come to her aid. There's no courage or ingenuity or backbone shown in her brief scene.

So, Veronica is not very comforted by her past best friend Betty.

Compare Betty to Martha Dunnstock, who has a similar amount of screentime but gets to be more interesting. Martha gets a prank note and walks straight up to show it to Kurt (honest and brave); takes a chance on trusting JD (friendly); befriends Veronica at the end of the film despite all the bullying that the Heathers put her through (forgiving).

Betty doesn't reappear in the movie, but she's mentioned one more time.

HEATHER DUKE. Do you think, I mean do you really think, if Betty Finn's fairy godmother made her cool, she would still hang out with her dweebette friends?

Veronica doesn't reply. This might be because:

She believes power/popularity would corrupt anyone. It corrupted Heather Chandler into bullying other people, it's corrupting Heather Duke into doing the same, and JD's murders have escalated for similar reasons. If Betty had power/popularity she would be corrupt because everyone would be. However, the end of the movie counteracts this idea. Veronica embraces power (the red scrunchie) and also embraces Martha (formerly unpopular), so there's optimism that it's possible for someone to wield power a little better than those who came before.

Veronica doesn't know Betty well enough any more to answer that.

Veronica knows Betty well enough to answer that ... and the answer is no.

What did Betty say?

BETTY. Think I'd probably miss my own birthday for a date.

Symbolically, Betty would give up her own identity (birthday) to be popular (have a date).

Conclusion: Heather Duke isn't wrong about Betty.

If lucky chance made Betty popular, she probably would be as bad as Veronica's other 'friends'.

Veronica's ending is with Martha, not Betty. Martha displays qualities of being brave, honest, and kind - more positive qualities than Miss Finn.

[lara635kookie]

Ship Analysis pt. 4:

Red Crackle, Carmivy and Carulia.

When you're a teenager, all you want is becoming part of a group. And peer pressure is a thing. Teenagers can go to great lengths just be accepted. And for teenagers that never had a family(because we know that sadly, most older children don't get adopted since majority of parents look for babies) and most likely think there's something wrong with them and ask themselves why no one wanted them(because we know how intense are our feelings when we're teenagers, stupid hormones) V.I.L.E. seduces them with the prospection of acceptance and belonging they always wanted and never had, making them believe they got nothing to lose and It's what's best for them to feel they have a home, people waiting for them to come back, somewhere it doesn't feel empty and cold(it's so dark and heavy, it's almost kinda like a n*zifacist thing, they use the desperation, lack of purpose and need for change of these people and ask for their absolute loyalty in exchange)(if you seen Die Welle you understand what I'm talking about)(I don't know if that was intentional, probably not, but now that I think about it Maelstrom kind of reminds me of Hitl*r and Muss*lini in a way, even if he's an animated character)(I know it sounds polemic but rewatch the show with this mindset about V.I.L.E. and you'll notice)(and considering that the neo-n*zifascists groups are coming back nowadays, that is pretty spot on)(if the series had explored more that, it probably wouldn't be for kids anymore but it would pass an amazing social criticism with that analogy)(I think if Carmen Sandiego was a cartoon for older people it would have been better because it would explore its full potential)(and it wouldn't be excused of its failures because "It's a kids show and kids don't notice that"). However, keep in mind that I'm not trying to erase any of Gray's mistakes. There are things he did there are inexcusable but I believe we have to understand the character and the context he's in before judging. I'm not trying to cover Gray's bad side by any means, but this person looks like is trying to completely erase Gray's good side, so I'm trying to highlight that as well. We see that Gray tells Chief he chose a life of crime in his own free will, so while his free will was there too, Maelstrom's influence was also involved. It is shown that Gray was stealing alone before going back to V.I.L.E. but characters change. A character is never the same person at the start and the end of a story. Even the bad written ones, they change. Even if just a little. From the point that video was recorded he was still with his old hair and didn't meet Black Sheep. So you can't use a video from his past before V.I.L.E. to classify his V.I.L.E. self. While yes, it was awful for him to say that, it was a act of desperation. At least seemed like it from his facial expressions and his voice tone. And he didn't do it because of his "fucked up conscience" he did it because he cares about Carmen. He LOVES Carmen. And Carmen loves him back. Platonic or not, they love each other. Carmen also loved Player, Shadowsan, Ivy and Zack, but she didn't love Julia. She likes Julia but they didn't spend enough time together to love each other(at least not romantically). And you don't wanna harm the people you love. The thing is, if I learned something with Red Shoes and the seven dwarves(underrated masterpiece with pretty animation, beautiful message and hot characters), is that you shouldn't change the good in yourself to be loved by someone else, but you gotta make your best to change the bad in you. Merlin needed to embrace Snow White's true beauty and change his bad views of what beauty was like. The same thing applies here:Gray needed to embrace the good in himself and in Carmen to stay with her. The thing is that Gray doesn't accept the good in himself like Carmen does. My personal theory is that he's kinda like DreamWorks piece of art Megamind:Tried to be good but got hurt and them turned to bad as a defense mechanism(heros and villains aren't born, they're made, baby).

To be continued...

[meraxes-of-new-albion]

What's it like being a zookeeper? What's your day like, and how'd you get into that?

Hi!

It's both really cool and really frustrating lol.

For context this is US, AZA based zoos; if you're elsewhere I have no idea whether the path that works here works elsewhere.

This got long so readmore.

I don't want to paint this career with rose tinted glasses. It's a passion career, and like all passion careers, you will be overworked, underpaid, and probably surrounded by reasonably privileged white people who can afford the overworked + underpaid. (I am absolutely no exception to this rule, btw.)

That said, a couple weeks ago I got to pet a Canada lynx. I've fed peanut butter to wolves, watched a secretary bird hunt, bonded with a Harris hawk, and made best friends with a plush-crested jay. You get the *coolest* stories, and it helps make the crappy parts of the job feel worthwhile; it's hard to resent your life when you're feeding bananas to a moose.

As far as career path goes, I'm still early in mine, but generally from talking to people, this is how it goes for most people: they go to a 4 year college/university for a degree in biology or something related -> they do at least one (unpaid :/) internship during college to get experience -> they work seasonally/part time at a zoo (generally several zoos, generally moving across the country multiple times)(this is where I'm at in my career) -> they get a full time, benefitted gig somewhere, and either work until a spot at a zoo they'd rather be at opens up, or they live the rest of their career there.

I'd like to stress this isn't the *only* career path - a lot of my coworkers here were dog trainers or what have you beforehand, a different coworker at a different zoo moved from guest services into a seasonal role and got hired on full time from there - but it is by far the most common one. This is also the reason we're pretty much all privileged white people - if you don't have family/friends who can subsidize three months worth of work that you don't get paid for, often you're a bit SOL. This is, very slowly, changing, apparently the MIlkwaukee zoo pays their interns for example, but it's still few and far between, and a very competitive field.

As far as my day to day goes, that changes a lot from zoo to zoo and even job to job - I'm a relief keeper here, so my day changes drastically based on which route I'm covering. At my previous zoo, I worked in their bird department, so my days were a bit more predictable; that was also a much bigger zoo so things like diet prep were handled by a completely different department rather than every route doing their own diets, or one person doing all of them every day. it's definitely worth investigating which kinds of animals you'd like to work with, and asking people who work with those specifically, if you can. For example, occasionally I serve as our second person to work the big cats - we have a two lock system so you can't accidentally let the lions out if you're cleaning in their yard, kind of thing. And I love our lions, and our snow leopards, but also... they're enormous, and terrifying, and sometimes uncooperative as anything. They're cool! But not an animal I'd want to work with every day.

General pros and cons:

Cons:

Pay :/ the mcdonalds I drive past every day would pay me a solid $3 more an hour. And probably give me paid time off.

You will work weekends and holidays. I've worked every holiday for the last two years.

Culture - so here's the thing. Zookeepers, as a group, are people who went individually in their lives "Hey i really suck at people skills. I know! I'll work with animals instead!" and then you put all of them together in the same room with animals they're emotionally invested in. Petty office drama, toxic management, and other such problems are common. We skew leftist and queer but that doesn't mean we have conflict resolution skills.

You are very, very, very likely to end up moving states at least once in your career.

pros:

No two days are ever the same. there's always something new to learn, some new problem to solve, something you all have to pull together and help with. Whether that be relocating an alligator, unloading a frozen meat delivery, a news crew hanging around, or something else, there's always something to change up the day.

The work you're doing never feels like a perpetual motion machine - it always has meaning to it. Everything you do benefits an animal you probably know personally, by name. You get to share those stories, those individuals, with the visitors who stop and ask; if you're lucky, they might go home and learn more about those animals. We all thrive by the concept of "You protect what you care about; you care about what you know; you know about what you are taught". Did I know kori bustards existed before I worked with them? no. Do I care now, and I'm glad to know they're no longer poached for fly fishing bait thanks to (i think) CITES in the 80s and 90s? You bet I do they're wonderful animals.

Your life, the everyday mundanity of it, becomes something that other people will always consider you the most interesting person in the room for. I don't get to work with said lynx very often anymore, due to staffing changes and whatnot, but every morning like clockwork Carson would meet you at the fence and follow you right along it to the den, because he knew you had his breakfast. It felt mundane, after a while, but it's always worth the moment of acknowledging "wow I actually get to hang out with some lynx today. That's pretty cool."

Hopefully this actually answers your question lol. It's not something I'd trade for anything, but I don't want to paint it as a world full of snuggling wolf puppies and rainbows and sunshine, because it's not that, either. It's sometimes grueling, frustrating, bitter work, full of frustrations about budgets and supplies and not having enough hours in the day. But then you go and you hang out with the giraffes for a couple minutes, and that in itself is wonderfully grounding.

so yeah. Hope this helps!

[grimsonandclover]

Hear me out, I’ve had a couple of winter sniffles so: Art just sick as a dog, fever brain and all, with Tashi and Patrick taking care of their little white boy ❤️

30s!Art!Tashi!Patrick

A short little thing about Art getting sick on vacation

SFW 724 words

established relationship, no x reader, art and tashi are still married, patrick's getting the band back together, colorado, mucus, illness, whining, mention of The Betrayer/The Lady Gaga Song (Judas), Mt. Tissue, a short one, not proofread because im #tired but also really liked writing this

"Ugh, Patrick, he's a mess."

"What? Who-- Artie?"

Tashi closes the bedroom door behind her as she slips away into the living room, joining Patrick on the couch. Her short bob, now slightly outgrown and reaching her shoulders, is swiped away from her face by his calloused fingers as Patrick waits for the diagnosis. "A miserable mess."

The brunette turns off his cracked phone, setting it aside on the leather. He turns his body more towards her as Tashi tucks one leg under the other. A pull between his brows as he bites the inside of his cheek. "I thought he never gets sick..." He mumbles more so to himself. Tashi nods, as confused as he is.

"All the time I've known him, I could probably count on both hands... but of course,"

"Of course he gets sick on vacation." Patrick finishes for her.

The three were in Colorado for a week-long getaway. It was supposed to be perfect. Lily was back home with Tashi's parents while she relaxed for the first time in fourteen years, Art was resting after winning the Open and retiring, and Patrick was finally learning to be in their lives again. They all needed it.

And then Art got sick.

He was stationed away in the master suite of the luxurious cabin hotel by the mountains. Powdery snow for as far as the eye can see, waiting to be skied on. Art would be doing no such thing.

"Baby?" His tired, sniffling voice comes from the bedroom. Tashi sighs, standing up to come to his aid. He's gotten a little whiney the few times she'd witnessed him sick. When she pushes the heavy door back open, she sees her husband still in the pile of thick blankets she left him with, sitting in the dark bedroom. Mt. Tissue piles in a trash can beside him. "Tash, I'm sorry. I know I'm being needy, I just--"

Patrick pushes into the room, past Tashi, and flops onto the large bed. It shakes the sniveling puppy-of-a-man from the force and Art winces. "I just wanted to say, I don't want you guys staying behind cause of me." He blows his stuffed nose into another tissue. Mt. Tissue grows looming. "Go out, have fun, do whatever you do in Colorado."

Tashi rolls her eyes, crossing her arms as she keeps her distance from the blonde. She loves him, and she'll care for him, but unless she needs to directly handle Art, Tashi's keeping her distance. "We're not leaving you here to rot in your misery, Art. It's a waste of money. You know how much this trip cost?"

"I paid for it, so, yes." Another tissue.

Patrick leans on one arm, uncaringly close to his former-to-current-again best friend. "Man, I hate to be rich kid Pat for a minute, but I've been skied out since, like, '04, Art. I'm fine staying here."

"Yes, Patrick. We all know about the time you ate shit when you were 16." Tashi groans from the doorway. "Spare me the retelling."

"I wasn't going to retell it, bitch." Patrick grumbles, turning his attention back to Art-- Art, who barely pays attention to the bickering past his congestion, teeth aching, and headaches. "I just meant I'm here for you, dude. Let's wallow in misery together." He throws a fist in the air in solidarity. Tashi swats it down.

"No, no no no." She tuts, yanking Patrick out of the bed. "You are not wallowing with him because you are not getting sick, too. I'll kill myself if I have to listen to you whine about whatever color your mucus is."

"I don't whine about my mucus..." Art mumbles, feeling like it's some attack on his complaining.

Patrick snorts. "You showed me when it was, like, lime green. Shut the fuck up, you totally do."

Tashi cringes, looking at her husband. "You did not."

Art looks away. It was a moment from one concerned, sick friend to other concerned friend. "Can't believe you told her that, Judas."

This deeply offends Patrick. "Don't Judas me! I'm not Judas!" He swats Art's arm, and the blonde whines again. "I'm sensitive..."

"You're a dick. I'm not Judas."

"Totally are, I showed that to you in confidence."

Tashi leaves the two to bicker, going to the hotel phone to call for room service.

[rosiewitchescottage]

When portraying the character as a 'Strong Female Character' becomes more important than giving her character and personality, then yes. We're not going to connect with her.

The perfect example that I can think of is the contrast between animated Mulan and live action Mulan.

Animated Mulan achieves some amazing feats, she saves China, for goodness sake.

And yet, she doesn't lose her vulnerability, she has to work hard to get to where she needs to be.

And we love her, because she's real! Of course she doesn't get into the army and can do everything the same way as the men.

Clearly she's got some serious potential, waiting to be let out. But she hasn't got the same bodily strength and speed as her fellow soldiers.

She has to put in extra time and effort, which pays off in buckets.

There's something of Joan of Arc to be seen in Mulan. I remember watching a video about the French National Saint, and it was speculated that she probably didn't do much of the hand to hand fighting, but there's good reason to believe that she had very good leadership skills.

She lead her men in battle and they were inspired to follow her.

And we see that with Mulan, she's a soldier, not an officer, but once her comrades realise that the woman Mulan is still the same person as the man Ping, they listen to her, and realise that her ideas have the makings of success.

She doesn't lose any of this by having her love story with Shang. In fact they have a fascinating journey together, as Shang learns to love the woman that he grew to like and respect when she was pretending to be a man. He learns why she did it, and he respects that family loyalty. He realises that it's all the same person in the end.

And he's proud to be able to say that his wife saved China!

Contrast to live action Mulan. What can we say about her? She's got super powers so of course she can already whoop every ass in her way.

No coconut for guessing which is the more satisfying character to watch. 🙄

With animated Snow White we get the strength of her pure heart. All she wishes for is to be loved and spoken to kindly.

The animals aren't afraid of her, because they know there's no cruelty in her.

The dwarves are happy to give her a home because she's willing to give back to them by keeping house.

My theory about The Prince is that there had to be something extra special about this girl for him to keep looking for her.

In his world beautiful girls who can sing will be plentiful.

If Snow White was just a pretty servant that he wanted to have fun with, why go all out to find her again?

Cinderella (both animated and live action) shows the power of never giving into bitterness. She keeps believing in the power of dreams and she loves, despite the only kindness that she gets is from her animal friends.

Animated Belle loves her father and when the condition of her father's freedom is for her to remain with The Beast, she does it, even though it breaks her heart. Loyalty and Honour.

And she's determined to make the best of the situation. She gets to know the castle. She takes the time to get to know The Beast, and as she's showing interest in him, it makes him want to know and care about her.

The more "empowered" Disney tries to write their heroines as, the less interesting and charismatic they become, ironically.

[ali-anne-undertale-stoof]

Chapter 6 is here, finally featuring a particularly conniving canine!

Second half

Chapter 6: Well, I'll Be Doggoned!

The woods were quiet today. No storms, no delinquents, no spontaneous snowman wars that almost end with a snow boulder crashing into town. It's a perfect place to take out a newspaper and start reading the funny pages.

At least, that's what Sans intended to do.

The young skeleton really enjoyed the quiet, calm atmosphere the woods provided. It's much better than the overwhelming stimuli of the town. He finds it odd, really. Snowdin is nowhere near as overwhelming as... his old home. But he still gets overstimulated anyway. Maybe it's him?

"we're spooky scary sending shivers down your spine..." Sans sang lowly to himself. He never liked to sing in front of others. Not without his brother, in any sense. But alone? It helps him keep his mind engaged, at least. So it won't wander off into some... dangerous territory.

"you best prepare for a hila-"

What was that?

Sans heard something. From the bushes.

And it's still rustling.

Sans knew he shouldn't go over to strange rustly bushes, but his curiosity was too overpowering for him to resist. Tentatively, he creeped towards the bush.

"uh, hello?" The small skeleton peeked inside, only to find two tiny glistening orbs staring at him back. Yup, that was to be expected. Still, Sans leaned in.

"hey, it's cool. i don't bite. unless, uh, you do?" He winked.

Stupid, stupid.

Slowly, but surely, the rustling started up again, only got a tiny white snout with a black nose to stick out.

Wait, that's a-!

"eep!" Before Sans could finish that thought, the creature leaped out of the bush and tackled him to the ground. A white, small, furry, friendly creature indeed!

"Yip! Yip!"

The reaction was instantaneous. Sans' pupils dilated, overwhelmed by the puppy cuteness.

"d'aww! what are you doin' in the woods, little guy? were you playing hide and seek? were you? were you, furry baby?" Sans knew he probably shouldn't pet random dogs you find in the woods, but he couldn't stop himself! It's a puppy! A silly fluffy puppy!

He checked the dog for a collar. None.

"aww, you all alone, little guy? that's unfortunate."

The dog decided it had taken a liking to Sans. It lies on his chest and relentlessly started licking the underside of his mandible.

"pfft-ehehehehehe! yohohou silly pup! nahahahat there! hehehehehehehehe!"

As he laughed from the puppy's ticklish tongue, Sans could only think of two things - how playful this pup is, and that he's definitely taking him home until someone else claims him. He can't in good conscience leave this pupper out all alone, without food and water. What kind of person would Sans be if he did that?

Using both of his hugging arms, Sans cradled the dog and hoisted him up the best he could. It had proven to be quite a task, due to Sans' lack of physical strength and the dog's relentless wiggling, but he managed.

"ooh, boy. you're a heavy little guy, aren't ya? i guess you're carryin' more than just fluff, huh?"

The puppy yipped and started licking the skeleton's chin once more, making him giggle.

"ahalright, alrihihight! sheesh. come on, puppers. you're not gonna survive out here for too long. let's go."

"Yip!"

And with that, Sans and his new best friend set out on a course for Snowdin Town.

"PHEW!"

Papyrus wiped off a bead of sweat from his forehead. Finally, after two hours of removing that DARNED relish stain from the carpet, the house was spotless.

"I SHOULD COMPLIMENT MYSELF ON A JOB WELL DONE!!!" The proud monster patted himself on the back by removing his arm and reaching around with it. "PAP PAT. WHAT NOW? HMM... WELL, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD CHECK MY SOCIAL MEDIAS! I'M ONLY 13 AWAY FROM A DOUBLE DIGIT FOLLOWER COUNT, AFTER ALL!! NYEH! NYEH HEH HEH!!!"

Papyrus spun on the spot and was prepared to march upstairs, when he heard the door unlock. Sounds like Sans is home! And he didn't forget his keys this time! Progress!

"incoming!"

"INCOMING? WHATEVER DO YOU- OH MY DOG!!!!!"

As soon as the door opened, a speedy little white blur rocketed around the living room. And what's worse? It was getting mud all over the freshly cleaned carpet!!! What a conundrum- No. NO, NOT THE SOFA! NOT THE STAIRS, NOT THE KITCHEN, NOT THE TABLE!! WHAT WAS IT EVEN DOING?!

Papyrus felt like crying. "SANS?!?!?!"

"whoops. i got it." With a snap of his fingers, Sans froze the blur in its tracks. Literally. It was surrounded by its own trail of destruction! How is Papyrus supposed to rectify this?! How is ANYONE supposed to rectify this!?!?

Papyrus' despair contorts into rage. Well, not exactly rage. More like an extreme frustration directed towards his brother. And Papyrus wasn't one to hide his emotions at all, so Sans definitely knew from his googly-eyed glare that he was definitely to blame for this.

"...so i found a stray-"

"AND YOU LET IT TRASH THE HOUSE. GREAT. GREAT!"

"sorry, bro."

"OH, YOU'RE SORRY? I JUST SPENT TWO HOURS REMOVING YOUR STAIN!!!! AND NOW... NOW!!!!"

Sans put his hands up in defence. "look, i'm sorry, okay? it j-just... the dog needed a place to stay, alright? it didn't have a collar, and it... it..."

"YOU JUST FOUND A STRAY AND DECIDED TO TAKE IT HOME? TYPICAL! CLASSIC SANS!"

"hey, no need to keep BARKING at me, alright? let's just calm down."

Papyrus suppressed a snicker. Gosh darn it, Sans. Darn Sans. And darn Sans again for catching onto his concealed amusement.

"hey, i heard that. come on. you can't stay mad at me for long, can ya?"

The mischievous prankster gazed at Papyrus with the most delighted smile ever. No matter what he said or did, Papyrus knew he couldn't stay mad at that face.

"OH, ALRIGHT! I'M WILLING TO OVERLOOK THIS INCIDENT, BUT YOU ARE HELPING ME CLEAN UP!!! AND WE ARE NOT KEEPING THIS ANIMAL!!!" Papyrus instructed, in a stern tone as he straightened his posture and pointed firmly at the obliviously cheerful whirlwind of chaos that is the dog.

The dog figured Papyrus' hand looked like a nice meal.

CHOMP!

"AAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

About a few minutes later, Papyrus could be seen giving the dog the hardest death glare he could direct towards a starving animal. The dog itself remained oblivious, happily chomping on the leftover roast chicken and lapping up the water Sans left out for it. Sans himself was wrapping Papyrus' poor hand in bandages. The dog clearly had just as much bite as it did bark.

That dog. That. Annoying. Dog.

He didn't know how or when, but Papyrus had decided that dog was going to be the bane of his existence, now and forevermore.

"okay. all set." The smaller twin had finally finished. Papyrus sat back to admire Sans' handiwork. It wasn't enough to make up for the ruined living room, and the bite, and the DOG, but he knew Sans' heart was in the right place. It always is.

"EXCELLENT WORK, BROTHER! THAT CANINE REALLY LIKES USING ITS CANINES ON ME."

Sans snorted and snickered, to which Papyrus smiled.

"yeah. who knew such a cutie wootie could do something like that, huh?"

Papyrus' smile momentarily dropped. He can't be serious, right?

"SANS, THAT CANINE IS A MENACE! YOU CAN'T BE SERIOUS!"

"but, bro! he's just a little guy, look at him!" Sans couldn't help but dissolve into a pile of mush while watching this pup eat. "he's just a little man. a little man dog."

"HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW IT'S A MALE?!"

"just a hunch."

"ARGH!!!" Papyrus never did get Sans' adoration of animals. Especially animals that barge in and trash your house on a whim. With his affection for animals and bugs, Papyrus was confident that Sans could even find a CENTIPEDE cute in some way.

"hey, by the way, do you mind if i borrow your computer?"

Papyrus snapped out of his thoughts. "MY COMPUTER, WHY?"

"just wanted to make something, that's all."

"IT'S NOT A PRANK, IS IT?"

"no, no, it's not. eh, well, maybe..." He paused to think. Before Papyrus could chastise him, he held a hand up. "nah, i won't. i was just gonna create some flyers, y'know, some posters. i was thinking about what you said. we might as well see if somebody's lookin' for 'im."

"SANS, THAT'S... VERY NOBLE OF YOU."

"thanks, bro." After a couple of brotherly shoulder pats, the small skeletwin got up to start his poster duties. "say, do you mind taking care of the pupper for a bit?"

"NOT FUNNY, SANS."

"sorry, couldn't resist. the hook and line were there, i just had to bite it." A wink and a shrug. Perfect!

"ENOUGH!!!!"

"alright, alright." The little comedian chuckled, casually strolling towards the hungry dog. He pet it just behind the ears. "okay, boy. i'm just gonna go for a bit, alright? gonna find your true owner."

The puppy peered up at Sans with a goofy smile. It's like it's trying to mess with him, because not even a moment after Sans spoke, it stuck out its tongue.

Sans almost dissolved into a baby-talking puddle of cuteness overload right there. No! He must resist!

"hnnnnhhh- gosh, why'dya have to be so adorable?" He pet it again, a little more aggressively this time.

Meanwhile, Papyrus remained sitting on Sans' stepping stool, pouring. He could never understand Sans' love for animals, especially after it just BIT HIS HAND! What? No, he's not jealous!! He's just frustrated that Sans would dissolve into a puddle of goo over a dog after the mess it made!!! (Also, he wanted to be pet too.)

Soon enough, Sans left. Left Papyrus alone with the dog. Well, then. Time to confront it and show it who's boss!

Papyrus cleared his throat and stood up, his stance and voice full of authority.

"LISTEN HERE, DOG!!! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AND YOU'RE TAKING RESIDENCE IN MY HOUSE TEMPORARILY, AND THUS, WE HAVE TO SAY SOME GROUND RULES!!! RULE NUMBER ONE- HEY!!!"

The dog just tried to jump up at him! What did it want?! His scarf?! No, sir! Not today!

"GET OFF OF ME!!!" Papyrus tries gesturing for the dog to sit. "SIT!!! SIT!!! STOP THAT, YOU ANNOYING LITTLE-"

CHOMP! Well, there goes Papyrus' arm.

"AAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOWWWWW!!!"

Of course it had to be now! Sans is coming downstairs! Luckily the bite wasn't as strong as the first, but it still hurt!

And Sans didn't even look...

"hey, bro, i'm gonna head out to see if i can print off the posters at the library. or should i say 'librarBY?'"

"THAT WAS AN ACCIDENT AND YOU KNOW IT SANS!!!" Papyrus huffed, trying to prevent the dog from biting him again.

"suuuurrrrre it was." Sans flashed Papyrus a smug grin. "you think you can handle the doggo?"

"NO!"

"attaboy."

One heavy jacket later, and Sans was out the door, but not before cooing over the pup one last time.

"bye, little puppers. be a good boy, alright?"

Click!

Great. Now Papyrus was all alone with the fluffball of chaos he called a dog. A dog. AKA, the bane of his existence, and a skeleton's natural enemy. Natural to Papyrus anyway.

"SIGH... FINE, THEN. DOG!!!"

The furry whirlwind of destruction tilted its head and whimpered. Nope. That trick wasn't going to fool Papyrus! He's above that!

"NO. YOU ARE GOING TO SIT AND STAY HERE WHILE I CLEAN UP YOUR MESS!!" On his own. Papyrus sighed, didn't Sans say he'll help?! At least he's working on something. All this dog was working on was being a hinderance in Papyrus' life.

At least the dog obeyed... For now.

"SIGH..."