#they get older but they don’t quite deteriorate?

[greenwingss]

BIRDS--

Okay I need to know the bird to human ratio going on like are they just humans with wings or are they birds in human clothes and human situations if so I just wanna mention how smart pigeons are despite being thought of as trash birds I think the twins would make good pigeons also Marxist symbolism bla bla bla

While everyone else was learning how to dance Ford was studying physics so he would not be a good dancer. He knows all the moves but he doesn't know how they go together he looks like he learned how to dance from a book (he did). Stan used to practice in their room all the time though and ask Ford what he thinks and Ford didn't wanna tell him what he thought because what he thought was incest--

Ford's wings are completely mussed when Stan sees him for the first time in 10 years, he hadn't preened himself in months. Stan's wings were thinned because he's been pulling at his feathers from stress for years. I'm gonna throw up.

Little puffball mystery twins. Stan stashes them under his wings like an african jacana

-🐶

THATS ADORBALE IM SO MAD THST MY AU DORSNT WORK LIKE THST FHJSBFJENDJDHD

theres a curse over gravity falls (started in the water, ended up in the air and contained by the weirdness barrier) that, over the course of two weeks, makes people develop wings (and tail, snd the extra birdy bits but those usually wait till the tail end of that bc it’d be harder to reverse something like special eyes if you leave the falls early) that burst out (though, bc it’s less painful, they’re typically cut out by a flockmate)!!!

it mostly varies in regards to birdiness btw— sometimes it’s the base (wings, tail, muffs+plumicorns, maaaybe some fuckery with the eyes), sometimes they have bird heads/legs, sometimes they end up just anthro birds!!

and YES ford is SO DISHEVELED WHEN STAN GETS THERE….. like to the point that retracting his wings is painful so he just . doesnt. ‘hey ford why do you have wings’ ‘something thet happens when you have prolonged exposure to gravity falls— moving on’

stan’s wings burst out bc he doesn’t have anyone to help him, either; and bc of how the wings are determined (perception of the self/other’s perception of him) he ends up getting a bird pretty similar to the great horned owl, but less well known!!!

and the reason i chose owls for them is bc of the stereotypical ‘owls are smart’ thing!!:3

[kurishiri]

01 ┊ The final promise, a mother's death

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— jude⌛'s past records, record #1.

— cw: domestic child abuse (physical), death of a family member, mentions of alcoholism and family neglect.

The amount of happiness a person is given in their lifetime is decided, and it is split equally for everyone.

Such was written in a book somewhere.

Just as there was no abundance of good things, neither was there an abundance of bad. Everything was made to be equal.

——If that was the case, then just what did this bloody wretched life of mine ever amount to?

Since I was born, I had never gotten a taste of that feeling called ‘happiness.’

My father was an immigrant from Ireland, who worked at the seaport.

The place was filled with violent people, making both public order and the working environment in poor condition, but not working would be the same as death.

And what was tragic about the job was the fact that you could be laid off at any point.

Jude’s father: Blast it all! I went outta my way to show up n’ they went and kicked me out!

Jude’s older brother: Was a fool’s errand from the start!

In the cramped house, the scent of liquor and tobacco pervaded the room,

and perhaps because of continuous exposure to that, my younger sister and I had weak lungs, and were often prone to asthma attacks.

Jude’s younger sister: *cough* *cough*...

Jude: Quit it already.

Jude’s father: ...Hah?

Jude: If ya continue smokin’ that stuff, ain’t no way we’re gettin’ any better.

J: If you’re gonna smoke go n’ do it outsi——gh!

All of a sudden, he hit my cheeks, and the moment I collapsed on the floor, he grabbed my hair.

Jude’s father: I dare ya to try sayin’ that again.

Jude: Hah, did ya drink so much booze your ears gone bad? I’ll say it however much I gotta.

J: I’m sayin’ ya don’t even got a penny in your pocket and yet ya go off smokin’ that stuff——guah!

This time, he hit my other cheek without holding back.

Jude’s father: Jude. How old are ya?

Jude: ...Five.

Jude’s father: Which is the age ya can go n’ work a job. And yet here ya are not doin’ that ‘cause you’re coughin’ a lung up.

Jude’s father: Who do ya think ya are, complainin’ when you’re a useless piece o’ trash, huh!?

Grasping at my hair, he tried to drag me around, when——

Jude’s mother: Stop this at once...!

Jude: Mum...

Jude’s mother: I’ll give him a talk and make him listen. Okay?

Mother took some money, and the two left the house for a drink.

(That cash... went and sold off clothes again, innit.)

She was a woman who could use perfect Queen’s English, and she was originally a well-to-do lady, or so I heard.

But, she pulled the short end of the stick, getting together with a good-for-nothing.

She sold the little jewels and clothes she had brought until she had nothing left to her name, and her health deteriorated.

—— Time skip (I think) ——

Jude’s mother: Jude, come here a bit.

Mother took me out to the garden, and there she took a stick and started writing something on the ground.

Jude: Mum, what’s this?

Jude’s mother: These are letters. They represent the words we speak... let’s see... it’s much like a ‘sign,’ so to speak.

Jude’s mother: See, this is how you write your name. J, U, D, E.

I copied Mother’s letters, writing them on the ground.

Jude: Wow, I could really get behind this. Hey, how do ya write Jazza——

Just then, Mother pulled me into an embrace.

Jude: Mum...?

Jude’s mother: In the times to come, even when your body is weak, and your money scarce, as long as you have wisdom, you can live on with that.

Jude’s mother: Jude, you are intelligent. I am sure knowledge will be your guardian.

Jude: Hey, mum, if ya hug me so tight it’s gonna hurt.

Jude’s mother: Hehe, you’re a big brother, aren’t you? You can handle this much at least.

Not too long after, Mother’s body grew weak, and she passed away.

The only thing left behind was the cold bed which she no longer occupied.

(She probably knew things would turn out this way.)

Running my hand along the cold surface of the bed, I recalled the final conversation we shared.

—— Flashback ——

Jude’s mother: Jude... I’m sorry.

Jude: What’re ya apologizin’ for? There’s a mountain of people other than ya who gotta apologize.

Father and my older brother drowned in alcohol, and even on death’s door, they didn’t bother even showing their faces.

Jude’s mother: ...I’m sorry, I’m sorry...

Jude: ...N’ like I said, don’t apologize.

Jude’s mother: ...Please...take care of your sister...Jude.

—— End flashback ——

That became the final conversation.

And, after that, my life stumbled even more down to the pits of hell.

to be continued…

first next →

masterlist🌙 ┊ ko-fi ☕️ ┊ comms 🤍

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Heart | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, SMUT 18+ MDNI, elements of dom/sub, oral (m and f receiving), orgasm denial (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid. wrap it up.), face riding (f receiving), begging, cockwarming

Word Count: 6046

A/N: Giving the people what they want. AGAIN. MINORS! GO AWAY!!! SHOO! TAKE A JUICE BOX AND A STICKER ON THE WAY OUT!!

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

“Here he is, Detective,” the young mortician said to Sam as she pulled the body of a man out of a cold locker. The man had stitches running along his chest, stomach, shoulders, and throat; some reminiscent of deep bite marks.

“That’s a pretty nasty bite,” Sam commented. “You know what bit him?”

The young woman averted her eyes. “I haven’t quite determined that just yet.”

“C’mon, Doc,” you pleaded. “Off the record.” You left Dean back in the motel room once he promised you he’d stay put.

“Okay,” the mortician began, “way, way off the record—”

“Sure,” Sam nodded.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say the guy was attacked by a wolf. But unless I know that the zoo is missing one of their lobos, I’m going with pit bull.” She eyed Sam cautiously. “I like my job.”

“Yeah, I hear you,” Sam chuckled.

“One more thing. This guy, was his heart missing?” you asked.

She seemed surprised. “Yeah, how did you know that? I haven’t even finished my report.”

“Lucky guess,” you shrugged.

You and Sam left the morgue and began the drive back to Dean. 

“How’ve your nightmares been?” you asked Sam while he drove out of the morgue’s parking lot.

He turned to you quizzically.

“What? I hear you up at three in the morning,” you smirked.

“I get up early anyway. How do you know I still have ‘em?”

“You don’t have a great poker face, Sammy. When something’s bothering you, I can literally see the wheels in your head turning,” you replied.

He sighed. “I’ll get over it.”

You shot him a look.

“It’s just— It’s not just Jessica anymore,” he explained. “It’s my dad, it’s what Meg did while she took me for a joy ride—”

“That sounds dirty, man,” you cut in.

He gave you a playful glare. “It’s like I told you. I’m scared as hell.”

You stayed silent for a moment. “Hey, you’re still you. And that’s all that matters.” You turned to face him in your seat, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t gone all ‘sith lord’ on us yet. And I honestly don’t think you will. You just… you don’t have that in you.”

His lips curled into a sad smile once more. “Thanks, (Y/N/N).”

“Any time.”

“Any update on you and Dean?”

“Oh, would you look at that, we’re here,” you smirked as Sam pulled into the motel parking lot.

He glared at you. “(Y/N)—”

“I know, I know, we’ll talk later,” you giggled. You headed into the brothers’ motel room. Dean was cleaning his guns on his bed, and you explained what you’d seen and found out from the mortician to him. The lawyer you’d examined wasn’t the first heart-free corpse, but he was the first man. Over the last year, several women had gone missing; their bodies washed up on shore, but were too deteriorated to make out anything besides the fact that their hearts were missing. The lunar cycle was exactly right for a werewolf killing as well.

“Awesome,” Dean grinned.

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, could you be a bigger geek about this?”

“I’m sorry, man, but what about ‘a human by day, a freak animal killing machine by moonlight’ don’t you understand? I mean, werewolves are badass. We haven’t seen one since we were kids,” the older brother protested.

“Okay, Sparky. And you know what? After we kill it, we can go to Disneyland,” Sam snarked, making you giggle.

“You know what the best part about it is? We already know how to bring these suckers down.” He held up a silver bullet. “One of these bad boys right to the heart. So, what’s our next move?”

“Talk to the girl who found the body,” replied Sam. 

***

The girl who found the body had sharp, angular features and beautiful dark hair. You could tell Sam was slightly enamored by her from the second she let you into her apartment. The woman introduced herself as Madison. She showed an older man who’d come to check on her out of the apartment and motioned for you to take a seat at her kitchen table. 

“You must be pretty shaken up,” started Sam. “You were Nate Mulligan’s assistant, right?”

“For two years, yeah,” she nodded.

“So, you knew all about him?” Dean questioned.

“Probably knew more about him than he did. Nate was…” she trailed off, smiling uncomfortably, “he was nice.”

“But?”

“Nothing, really. I— He had a few scotches in him, and he'd started hitting on anyone in a five-mile radius. You know the type.”

You looked over at Dean, given that was the one thing about him you disliked. “Yeah, I do, actually.”

Dean noticed your look, and he shrank a little at your apparent disappointment. “Did, uh, did he have any enemies?”

“What do you mean? It sure looked like an animal attack,” she said, shifting uncomfortably.

“No, yeah, we’re just covering all the bases. Anyone that might have had a beef with him – a former client, an ex?”

You noticed her discomfort and pressed further. “What is it?”

“Well, this is embarrassing, but my ex-boyfriend, Kurt—”

“Kurt have a last name?” Dean cut her off.

“Mueller,” she answered. After we broke up, he went kind of nuts. He’s… well, he’s kind of been stalking me. He got it in his head that something was going on between Nate and I. He showed up at my office.”

“What happened?” you asked.

“Kurt got into it with Nate; threw a punch before security grabbed him. I was lucky to keep my job,” she explained.

“When was the last time you saw Kurt?” Dean asked.

“A few nights ago. Actually, the night Nate died. We were all grabbing drinks at this bar, and Kurt showed up,” Madison replied.

“And?”

She shook her head. “Nothing. It was like he was watching me. Then he was gone. To tell you the truth, he scares me.”

“I can understand that,” you told her.

She gave you a smile. 

Madison led you out of her apartment, and Sam wrote his number down for her to call you if she needed anything. 

***

As night fell, Dean suggested you head to the ex-boyfriend’s house to investigate if he lived in a creature’s lair. Upon arrival, you discovered Kurt wasn’t home. However, you felt uneasy. You chalked it up to the fact that you were breaking and entering, but you’d never felt anxiety in a situation such as this previously. It almost felt like something was watching you.

“(Y/N/N), you okay?” Sam asked you upon noticing your discomfort.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s just… hurry this up. I got a bad feeling about this.”

“Okay, Skywalker,” Dean quipped. 

“Anything?” you asked, ignoring his comment.

“No, nothing but leftovers and a six-pack. No human hearts behind the Haagen-Dazs either,” he replied. You suddenly heard a door open and close followed by a crashing sound coming from outside. You shared a brief look with Sam before running out to the balcony. Down the wall of the building, there were claw marks in the concrete wall, sliding all the way down to the ground.

You cringed at the sight. “That’s just great.”

Seconds later, you heard a gunshot. You ran down the fire escape and out of the apartment, heading toward where you thought you’d heard the gun fire off. When you arrived at a dark alley, you saw the boot of a person sticking out from the shadows. Cautiously, you approached, only to find the body of an incredibly mauled policeman.

“I’ll call 911,” Sam told you and his brother.

Dean bent down to the corpse. “I’d say Kurt’s looking more and more like our Cujo.”

“I don’t know, man, his apartment didn’t scream ‘creature’s lair’ to me. Aside from the fact that it’s a standard bachelor pad,” you remarked.

Dean eyed you unamusedly. “I’m gonna ignore the implication there that all men are animals.”

You grinned. “I’m glad you caught my drift.”

“Guys, if he’s out here, we better check on Madison,” Sam said, interrupting you.

***

When you arrived at her apartment early in the morning, the older man you’d first seen in Madison’s apartment when you initially visited him peeked his head out of his door. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“Police business, Glen,” Dean responded.

Madison opened the door, her face drooping slightly when she saw you. “What is it?”

You shot a look over at Glen.

“Well, maybe we should talk privately,” Sam suggested.

She nodded, still confused, and led you into her apartment. “Coffee?” she asked.

Sam accepted happily, as did Dean. You still felt uneasy, and thought you might vomit if you had something to drink.

“Has Kurt been here?” Sam asked her as she poured a cup for each of the brothers. 

“Not exactly,” she replied.

“What’s that mean?” you asked.

“Well, he was outside last night. Just… looking. Just looking at me. Has he done something?”

“We’re not really sure,” Sam answered honestly.

“It’s probably nothing, but… we just don’t wanna take any chances. In fact, one of us should probably stay here with you?” Dean suggested. “Just in case he stops by. Where does he work?”

“He owns a body shop,” she replied.

“You mind grabbing that address for us?” 

She nodded and started out of the room.

“Thanks,” Dean called after her.

“Alright, you go. I’ll stay,” said Sam once she was out of ear shot.

“C’mon, (Y/N),’ Dean said.

“What?” Sam questioned. “No pushback? You always wanna hangout with the hot girl.”

“Yeah, well…” the older Winchester trailed off, “Not this time, I guess.”

“You guess?” Sam scoffed. “Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

Dean just rolled his eyes, and a smile tugged at your lips. You thought you may have something to do with Dean’s change of heart. 

“Bundle up out there, alright?” Sam said to you and Dean, shooting y0u a knowing look when his brother had turned away. You grinned back at him and followed Dean out of the apartment when Madison returned with the body shop’s address. 

Dean started the drive to Kurt’s place of work, and you eyed him thoughtfully.

“What?” he asked without even turning to look at you.

“I wouldn’t have anything to do with your change of heart about staying with the cute girls, huh?” you asked, already knowing the answer. However, a large part of you just wanted him to say it out loud.

He flickered his eyes over to yours, never turning his head from the road. “No, ‘course not,” he replied. 

You deflated slightly, although you knew vulnerability was difficult for him. You really and truly just wanted to hear how much you meant to him.

“Alright, fine,” he grumbled after a moment of silence. “It’s got everything to do with you.”

A smile spread across your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. “Good. I’m glad.”

*** Later that day, you discovered Kurt hadn’t been to work in a week. But because Dean was “really good,” if he did say so himself, he found out he was probably frequenting his favorite strip club.

You didn’t mind going; you enjoyed hyping the girls up. If you were a stripper, you’d much rather a girl stuffing ones in your bra than a creepy fifty-year-old man. Although, you were slightly concerned about the way Dean’s eyes were glued to the ass of the woman dancing in front of you. You couldn’t lie, though, she was hot. As long as he looked and didn’t touch, you were content.

The pretty girl in front of you bent down to take a ten dollar bill from your hand, wiggling her hips seductively as she did so. You held her gaze as she stuffed the bill in her bra with a few other ones she already earned. 

Dean suddenly seemed slightly possessive. He threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.

“Jealous much?” you asked. 

He used the arm around your shoulders to push your face towards his, kissing you wantonly. You hummed against him just before he pulled away. You nudged his nose with yours, sighing happily. You turned back to the girl dancing only to see the man you knew to be Kurt taking a seat at the opposite side of the stage from you and Dean. You gave Dean a look, and he immediately took out his phone to call Sam.

“I found him,” Dean said, eyes on the girl dancing in front of the two of you. “Oh, yeah, my eyes are glued. Look, Sammy, I gotta let you go. I, uh, I don’t wanna... don't wanna miss anything.” He handed a dollar bill to the stripper and smiled widely when he hung up the phone. 

After about an hour of generously tipping the strippers and having a few drinks, Kurt got up from the chair across from you and Dean. When he’d gotten a significant distance away, you and Dean wordlessly got up from your chairs to follow him. However, not before you turned and said, “Bye, girls!” to the dancers. The one that had been predominantly dancing in front of you and Dean waved and blew you a kiss. You blew one back, grinning. 

You followed Kurt back to his apartment and sat outside, waiting for him to make a wrong move. You readied your gun, jerking to attention when you heard glass shattering. You looked back up to see the lights in Kurt’s apartment were off.

Dean breathed out, “What the—?” and you motioned for him to follow you up the fire escape. You hurried into Kurt’s apartment through the shattered window only to find Madison over the top of Kurt’s mauled body. She turned her electric blue eyes toward you and growled, bearing sharp, bloody fangs. She lunged at you, throwing you to the ground. Dean shot at her and missed, and you used her distraction to get a knick in at her arm just above her elbow with a knife you had stored in your sleeve. She howled in pain and ran out the open window. 

“Motherfucker,” you cursed, uncocking your gun. “Dean, start wipin’ down your prints, we gotta get outta here,” you told him. He tossed you a handkerchief and you took care of the floor where you’d been knocked down by Madison, the fridge from when you’d first gone to investigate Kurt’s house, the countertops; everything. When you were done, Dean helped you climb out of the window without touching the sill or knicking your legs on a piece of broken glass. 

As the morning sun rose, you called Sam. 

Sam’s immediate response to your call was, “You guys okay?” 

“Yeah. It’s Madison, Sam,” you said, cutting straight to the chase.

“What?” he asked.

“Yeah. How’d she get out without you noticing?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), I’ve been here the whole time. She’s in bed, asleep.”

“Well, she wasn’t an hour ago. Check her right arm below her elbow. I nicked her with a silver knife,” you told him.

Sam hung up the phone immediately after. You instructed Dean to go to Madison’s apartment, and he did so. You knocked on the door of her apartment, and the door opened to reveal an upset Sam and Madison tied to a chair by her wrists.

“How you doin’?” Dean smirked bitterly, strolling into the apartment.

“We’ve gotta talk,” Sam told the both of you firmly. You eyed him questioningly as he led you and his brother into another room. “She says she has no idea what I’m talking about.”

“She’s lying,” Dean responded simply.

“Or maybe she really doesn’t know she’s changing, you know? Maybe— maybe when the creature takes over, she blacks out,” Sam argued.

Dean deadpanned, “Like a really hot Incredible Hulk. Come on, dude, she ganked her boss and her ex-boyfriend. That doesn’t sound rash and unconscious.”

“Yeah, but what if it was, Dean? I mean, what if some animal part of her brain saw both those guys as threats? Hell, the cop, too.”

The older brother scoffed. “What are you, the Dog Whisperer now?”

“Look, man, I just… I don’t know, there, there, there was something in her eyes.”

“Sam, don’t let your attraction to her cloud your judgment,” you stated.

He scoffed. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Do you? This isn’t seeming like a completely rational argument, dude,” you argued calmly.

“(Y/N), I just think it may be something she has no control over. You can believe me or not—”

Dean cut Sam off. “Even if she’s telling the truth, it’s not gonna change anything. She can’t control it. That’s bad news.”

“I’m not putting a bullet through some girl’s chest who has no idea what’s happening,” Sam argued, voice rising slightly.

“Sam, she’s a monster, and you’re feeling sorry for her?” questioned Dean.

“Maybe I understand her.” Sam paused, and his voice quieted down. “Look, there might be another way we can get the job done without having to waste her.”

“Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?” Dean asked.

Sam seemed to understand and took his dad’s journal out of his jacket. “Dad’s theory – ‘lycanthropy might have a cure if you kill the werewolf who bit you, severing the bloodline’.”

“Might have a cure,” Dean emphasized. “Meaning ‘who the hell knows’?”

“I’m not sure about this one, guys—” you sighed, scratching your neck.

Sam shrugged. “It’s worth a shot.”

“We don’t even know where to start looking, all right? I mean, the puppy that bit her could be anyone, anywhere. It could’ve been years ago,” Dean replied.

Sam seemed to realize something. “No. I don’t think so.” He led you back into the room where Madison was still tied up. “Madison, when were you mugged?”

She seemed not to want to answer. Either she really had no clue what was going on, or she was a damn good actress.

“Please. It’s important, all right? Just answer the question,” Sam begged.

Reluctantly, she said, “About a month ago.”

“Did you see the guy?” the younger brother pressed further.

“No. He grabbed me from behind.”

“Did he bite you?”

Madison seemed taken aback. “How did you know that?”

“Where?” Sam continued, ignoring her question. 

She still looked scared, but was honest anyway. “On- on the back of my neck.” 

Sam showed her he was setting his gun down and slowly moved behind her. He gently brushed her hair away and exposed a scarred lump on the back of her neck.

“Oh, that’s just a love bite,” Dean snarked. “Believe me, that could have been a lot worse. Where were you at the time?”

“Walking home from a friend’s loft,” she said.

“Let me guess. Not too far from Hunter’s Point?” Sam questioned.

Madison nodded, eyes bleary in confusion. You could tell some of this was beginning to make sense to her, and agreed to sit with her while the boys went into another room to talk.

“So… you really have no idea, do you?” you asked, sitting in a chair across from her.

She didn’t answer you.

Your tone immediately shifted. “Look, lovebug, I don’t think you get what’s going on here. I’m gonna need you to answer my questions, okay?” 

She scoffed. “What, about the fact that you guys think I’m a fucking werewolf? You realize you sound insane, right?”

“You’re a pretty good actress, I’ll give you that,” you said. “And… if you are telling the truth, I’m sorry. I’m sure you didn’t ask for this.”

She was silent for another moment.

“But you have to understand how this all looks, okay?” you continued. “People that are connected to you— Kurt, the lawyer that was creepin’ on you— they wind up dead. Then, you attack me after you kill Kurt, and things are just supposed to be all hunky-dory now? Just because you say you can’t remember?”

You seemed to have grabbed her attention. “Kurt’s dead? Oh, my god.” She began to cry softly.

You were conflicted. She seemed to be genuinely reacting to what you were saying, and you wanted to believe her. However, every instinct within screamed at you to put a silver bullet through her chest. “Madison… can you at least understand how this looks to me? Whether you think I’m crazy or not, do you at least see where I’m coming from?”

She laughed humorlessly through her tears. “You mean, if I was a deluded psycho who pretends to be a cop hunting for monsters? Yeah, I’d understand where you’re coming from.”

The boys emerged from the room. “Alright, (Y/N), you’re with me,” Dean asserted. 

*** You and Dean went to Hunter’s Point, the werewolf that had “mugged” Madison’s assumed hunting grounds, and searched for the monster. You heard a woman scream, and the two of you ran in the sound’s direction. The woman, presumably a hooker, was being dragged across the pavement by her ankles toward the werewolf.

“Hey!” Dean called. 

When the creature looked up, you and Dean shot at it multiple times; each hit landing in the center of the creature’s chest. The hooker immediately scrambled away, not even sparing a glance to you and Dean.

“Hey, don’t mention it!” Dean called after her.

“Take it easy,” you scolded. “She’s scared.”

The two of you turned back to the dying creature on the ground, and you discovered it was Glen, Madison’s neighbor.

“It happened... again,” Glen coughed. 

You knelt beside him.

“Where am I?” He asked you. “H–help me. Oh, god. Oh my god.” He choked again, coughing up blood. 

“Alright, easy, Glen. Just take it easy,” Dean told the man.

You and Dean watched as the older man’s eyes glazed over and his shuddering subsided. Your heart almost broke for him; he truly seemed to not understand what was happening to him.

***

The morning after laying Glen to rest, you and the brothers sat outside Madison’s apartment in the Impala. You planned to wait out there till the next morning to see if Madison transformed, or if you really had cured her. 

Dean was explaining Glen’s death to Sam. “It was sort of sad, actually. Glen had no clue what was going on. Hey, why do you think he turned Madison instead of just killing her in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I mean, he kind of seemed to have a thing for her,” Sam suggested.

“Maybe his primal instinct did, too. Maybe he was looking for a little, uh, hot breeding action.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“So?” you questioned, leaning over the back of the seat.

Sam eyed you quizzically. “So what?”

“Madison…?” you urged.

“Oh, whatever.”

You lightly shoved his shoulder. “Don’t ‘whatever’ me, kid, you liked her.”

“(Y/N/N), she thought I was a stark-raving lunatic,” he deadpanned.

“Yeah, a stark-raving lunatic that saved her life,” you challenged.

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that.”

Madison suddenly appeared at Sam’s rolled-down window. “You know, for a stake-out, your car’s a bit conspicuous. What are you still doing here?”

“Honestly? Uh, we’re pretty sure you’re not gonna turn tonight, but we’ve gotta be a hundred percent, so… you know, we’re… lurking,” explained Dean.

“I know this sounds crazy—” Sam began.

Madison cut him off. “Sure does. Well, if we’re gonna wait it out… we might as well do it together.”

She led you and the brothers back up to her apartment. Madison seemed to hesitate before she spoke once inside. “You were telling the truth, weren’t you? About everything. What you did— it was to help me.”

Sam nodded.

“I did all of those horrible things,” she said remorsefully, “when I turned.”

“You didn’t know,” coaxed Sam.

“So, when will we know for sure? Moonrise?” she asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” the brunet answered. “You turned middle of the night last night. I think we’ve gotta hang in until sun-up.”

You watched Sam carefully, and Dean gave a tiny nod. “Well,” the older brother began, “it looks like we’ve got ourselves a few hours to kill. Poker, anyone?”

“Always,” you said. 

***

Several games later, the sun sank, and the moon rose. Dean laid his gun on the table, and Madison and Sam watched him with unease.

“Oh, no, you guys talk,” Dean chuckled awkwardly.

***

Hours later, the sun came up.

“Does— Does this mean it worked?” Madison asked hopefully.

Sam sighed in relief. “Yeah. I think so.”

Madison threw her arms around Sam. “Oh, God, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Dean cleared his throat, and you jabbed him with your elbow at his interruption of their moment. 

Madison laughed. “You, too, Dean. Thank you. Same to you, (Y/N).”

You nodded. “Well, Dean and I have some, uh… stuff to go do.” You pulled on the older brother’s jacket, lugging him out of the room. “Bye, Sam, bye, Madison.”

“Smooth,” Dean commented once you were out of the door.

“Look, I didn’t wanna be in there any longer than necessary. Room stunk of sexual tension,” you chided.

“Between me and you, or Sam and Madison?” he smirked.

You scoffed, “Smooth,” mocking his earlier statement. 

***

As soon as the door to the motel room was shut, Dean’s lips were on yours. You shoved his back against the door, pushing his jacket down his shoulders. You bit his bottom lip eagerly, and he moaned into your mouth.

“(Y/N), what are you doing to me,” he groaned.

“Shut up,” you ordered, tugging his hair harshly. You shoved him down onto the bed and teasingly ghosted your lips over his clothed chest all the way up his neck and stopped just before his lips. He tried to lean up to kiss you, but you wouldn’t let him. 

“Stop teasing,” he growled, almost sounding pitiful.

You tsked. “You didn’t ask very nicely.” You rolled your hips over the hardening bulge in his jeans, and he groaned again. 

“(Y/N), please,” he whined.

“There’s my boy,” you grinned, leaning forward to kiss him. His hands were all over you in an instant, and you kissed down his neck. You got his shirt off before taking his pants off and palmed him through his boxers.

“(Y/N), stop it,” he begged.

“Stop what?” You took your hand off, worried you’d done something wrong. 

“Teasing,” he whined. “Just touch me, please.”

You’d never seen him so spaced out before. The shit-eating grin returned to your face, and you went back to dragging your fingers along the underside of his shaft through his underwear. “I am touching you,” you playfully said.

He thrusted up into your hand. “Oh, god, you know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually,” you cooed. 

“(Y/N), please suck my dick. Please, sweetheart. I need you,” he begged.

“Atta boy,” you said, happily taking his boxers down his hips. You began teasing the tip of his penis with your tongue before taking the whole thing into your mouth. You sucked on him earnestly, and his hips stuttered, trying to thrust up into you. You held his hips down firmly, but couldn’t keep his hand from winding in your hair. You felt he was close to ejaculation and quickly took your mouth off him. 

“What the fuck?” he questioned, chest heaving.

You gripped the base of his cock harshly. “Watch your mouth,” you said lowly. 

“Oh, god, sorry, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

You grinned at the thought of having such a tough and strong man turning to absolute putty in your hands. 

“I-I wanna touch you. Please,” Dean heaved, clawing at your shoulders.

You slinked up his body, sitting gently on his stomach. Dean pushed your shirt up, running his hands underneath it to get to your breasts. He groaned as he squeezed one in each hand, and you threw your head back at the feeling of him tweaking your nipples.

“Sweetheart,” he started, “Ride my face. Please.”

Heat flooded between your thighs at the thought. “Okay,” you said, suddenly feeling nervous. You pushed your jeans off and hovered over his face. You were afraid to settle onto him completely, but that trepidation was quickly subdued by Dean grabbing your hips and pulling you down onto his lips, his large hands firmly keeping you there. You moaned instantly when his tongue immediately found your clit, sucking harshly. 

You eagerly rolled your hips against him, half trying to escape the immense pleasure and half trying to move toward it. Your orgasm approached quickly, and you screamed his name as you came.

When he finally released you, you moved off him to reveal a shit-eating grin spread across his glistening face. You gathered up the slick that had collected on his mouth with two of your fingers and shoved them into his mouth, and he sucked them harshly. You got back on top of him, settling right over his hardened dick.

“You ready for me, baby?” you asked.

He responded by thrusting against you, catching you off-guard. You gasped and lined up with his cock before slamming down onto him. You rolled your hips in time with his, and he pulled you down to his lips to kiss you. Dean’s erratic thrusts were making you dizzy, and he soon rolled over on top of you to finish getting the both of you off. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and he buried his face in your neck as the two of you came together.

Gasps and moans filled the room around you as you both rode out your highs. Dean stayed fully inside you, even after he came, and adjusted the two of you to where you were lying on his chest with his dick still inside you. Completely content, you fell asleep on top of Dean. 

*** The next morning, you woke up before Dean as usual. His cock had softened, but was still nestled firmly inside you. You gingerly slid off him and moved to go get showered and dressed, only to have him grab your hand as you tried to step away to get a fresh set of clothes. 

He hummed, “Morning,” and pulled you back down to him.

You giggled and yelped as you came crashing down back to the bed next to him and pecked his lips. “Hi, handsome.”

He kissed you again. “Y’know,” Dean started, kissing you once more. “I’ve never—” kiss, “—let anyone—” kiss, “—besides you—” kiss, “—do that to me.” 

“Well, good. I’m happy to be the one and only,” you smiled against his lips, standing once more.

Just as you and Dean had finished getting dressed and were going to head for some breakfast, there was a pounding on the door. You opened it to reveal a completely breathless Sam.

“ She— she turned,” he said.

“What?” you asked, shocked.

“I couldn’t grab her in time,” he continued sadly.

Dean came up behind you and put a hand on your waist to let you know he was there. “We’ll find her, Sammy.”

Sam continued to panic as you headed down to the Impala. He told you Bobby knew severing the bloodline wouldn’t work, and any other hunter he’d called said there was no way to cure a werewolf.

“How come she didn’t turn when we were with her?” Dean asked. 

“Dean—” Sam began.

Dean cut him off. “So, what, you put her to bed and then she wolfed out? Maybe she’s gotta be asleep to turn.”

“What the hell does it matter, Dean? Look, we’ve gotta find some way to help her, some legend we missed or something.”

“Sam, I don’t think so, man,” you chimed in. “Somebody would’ve known about it.”

“Well, then we have to look harder! Until we find something,” he protested, welling up with tears.

“Sammy, I don’t think we’ve got a choice here anymore,” Dean sighed. “I hate to say it. She’s a sweet girl, but part of her is—”

Sam cut him off. “Evil? Yeah, that’s what they say about me, Dean! So me you won’t kill, but her, you’re just gonna blow away?”

Before Dean could argue, Sam’s phone rang. “Madison, where are you?”

Upon hearing that, you and the brothers quickly got to and into the car without needing to say a word to each other. “Alright, hold on, Maddie. We’re coming to get you, just stay where you are,” Sam told her before hanging up the phone.

*** Back in Madison’s apartment, she sat clad in a shirt Sam had been wearing the day before at her kitchen table. Dean’s favorite gun sat before her, and she eyed it, emotionless. “I don’t remember anything. I probably killed someone last night. Didn’t I?” she asked hesitantly.

“We don’t know that yet,” you reminded her.

The brunette looked up to Sam. “Is there something else we can try to make it go away?”

“We’ll find something. I mean, there’s gotta be some answer, somewhere,” Sam tried.

Dean’s voice rumbled through the air. “That’s not entirely true. Madison, you deserve to know. We’ve scoured every source. There’s just no cure.”

Madison turned back to Sam and then looked over to you. “Is— Is he right?”

The younger Winchester stood and turned away, choked up.

“We thought about tying you up, but one day, you’re gonna bust out,” you told her. “And then… someone else dies.” You paused thoughtfully. “I’m sorry. I am.”

“Me too,” Dean added.

Shakily exhaling through her tears, Madison resigned herself. “So, I guess that’s all there is to it, then.”

Sam turned back to her. “Stop it. Don’t talk like that.”

Your heart broke at the sight of Madison picking up the gun and walking it over to Sam. “Sam, I don’t wanna hurt anyone else. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Put that down,” he begged.

“I can’t do it myself. I need you to help me.”

A tear slipped down Sam’s cheek. “Madison, no.”

“Sam… I’m a monster.”

“You don’t have to be. We could find a way, alright? I can. I’m gonna save you,” he said, although you know he didn’t believe what he was saying.

“You tried,” she sighed, crying harder. “I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you.” 

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“I don’t wanna die. I don’t,” she continued. “But I can’t live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I’m asking you to save me.”

Sam shook his head again, and Madison watched him intently. Cautiously, Dean walked up behind Madison and gently took the gun from her. Sam immediately stormed off to another room.

You exchanged a look with Dean before following his younger brother. 

“Sam,” Dean said, holding up the gun. “ I’m sorry.”

The brunet shook his head, still crying. “No, you’re right. She’s right.”

“Sammy, I got this one. I’ll do it,” Dean replied bravely.

“She asked me to.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yes, I do. Please.” He held out his hand for the gun, tears flowing steadily now. Dean couldn’t seem to manage handing it to him, and you carefully took it from his hand. Sliding a hand up Dean’s back to comfort him, you held the gun out to Sam. 

Standing with Dean, rubbing circles over the middle of his back with your thumb and tucked into his side, you watched Sam walk out of the room.

“Just wait here,” he told you. His whole body tremored, and his face shone with tears. He hesitated a moment before moving toward the other room. 

Now that it was just the two of you, Dean clutched your hip harder and allowed a tear to roll down his cheek. You stood by him silently, allowing him to allow himself to feel for a brief moment. And then, you flinched at the horrible sound of a single gunshot coming from the next room. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[chelleztjs18]

Love Language (W.M)

Wanda Maximoff x Fem!CivilianReader (Avengers AU)

Summary: After Thanos, Wanda retires, along with a long term effect from all the missions she had and then she met you.

Warning: None, just some fluff. Mentions of hearing loss and sign languages.

A/n: Hello! It's me! I have a fluff now after the angsts I have posted. Thanks to my Curious George anon for the inspiring talk and ideas. Y'all can thank her too for motivating me to write and post a fic here today. lol. Welp, happy reading peeps!

Main Masterlist

Years of being Avengers was quite a lot for Wanda, not to mention losing Vision after Pietro. Mission after mission, countless fighting off the enemies felt like she was in an endless war without any possibility to end.

Fortunately, Wanda was wrong. After defeating Thanos, The Avengers are finally able to retire. Wanda is grateful that everybody including her are still alive, though it was hard for her in the beginning to get out the grief from Vision’s death. During all of the fighting she has been through as an Avengers, Wanda can’t escape the explosions or other loud sounds that happened.

It cost her an invisible permanent damage. Wanda has a progressive hearing loss. Her hearing is slowly deteriorating by time causing her to have to learn to read people’s lips in the beginning. With Natasha’s support, Wanda finally accepts her condition and learns sign language to be prepared for the day when she totally loses her hearing.

Then you come into her life.

To Wanda, meeting you at the grocery store near her house was the best thing ever to happen to her life. You brought back the colors in her life that she thought she had lost. You and Wanda have been together for almost a year. She loves you with all her heart. You are the life that she never thought that she would have ever again. Losing people that she loves has made her very skeptical in finding her happiness again but you have saved her.

You, you fell in love with her very hard. Heads over heels. To you, Wanda is perfect. No matter how much she tells you that she is not. You can’t blame her. You understand why she always tells you that she is not perfect because of her condition. Although right now she can still hear certain sounds but most of the time, Wanda can’t hear very well.

Wanda tries to stall as long as she can to not wear hearing aids. She doesn’t feel confident

about how it looks when she puts them on even though some of them don’t look that obvious and are pretty discreet. At this point, Tony has given up in trying to convince her to wear the one that he created special for her. She prefers to read people's lips than wear hearing aids.

Since the first time you both met and then officially dating, the communications have been easy. You always try to talk clearly and slowly and she focuses on reading your lips. Wanda sees how patient you are no matter how many times she asks you to repeat your words or when she doesn’t hear your soft spoken voice.

Wanda knows how hard it is to learn sign language so she always tells you that you don’t have to learn about it. She loves you so much that she told you she would wear hearing aids once she loses all her hearing to save you and your time from learning sign language.

With mutual understanding and how much both of you love each other, life has been very beautiful and happy. Both of you do a lot of things together. Her favorite is movie night together with a lot of snacks and drinks. Either watching new movies at the theater and sometimes at home or watching another rerun of her or your favorite sitcoms.

Wanda always tries to hold herself back not to ask you whenever she probably can’t hear or miss some words because she doesn’t want to bother you. Being the sweetest girlfriend you are, you always quickly pause the movie whenever you see her face looking confused because you know what is actually happening and then help her explain or ask her which part she misses.

Tonight, you just bought an older movie that Wanda has been wanting to watch with you. All snacks are ready on the table and you are waiting for Wanda to bring the drinks.

You have been munching your favorite chips while waiting for her.

“Okay, here’s your drink, my sweet.” Wanda hands you the drink. You take the drink and try to finish the chips in your mouth before you answer. “Yay! Thank you, princess.” You take a sip then put the drink down.

You have some more chips and try to finish the chips. Wanda notices that you chew in a rush.

"Baby?" She calls.

"Hm?" You tap her hands as a sign of your hum while busy chewing and turning your head to her.

"You know if you keep chewing like that you'll finish the chip before the movie even starts, right?" Wanda teases you with a question followed by a giggle.

"Well yeah, that was the point, love." You smile. Wanda squints her eyebrows a little as she tries harder to read your lips while you are chewing and talk at the same time.

"What? Why?" Wanda looks perplexed from your answer.

"Oh, I'm trying to finish them all before the movie starts because I don't want to be noisy with all the crunchy noise during the movie, so you can hear the movie better." You explained as you take more chips.

Wanda feels her heart melt instantly after hearing your reason, bubbles of joy fill her heart. Her smile shows up right away on her face.

Her hand grabs yours to stop you grabbing the chips. "Detka, that's very sweet of you. You don't have to do that, I still can hear it. Thank you very much for thinking that way."

"Are you sure? I thought you don't like crunchy food when you are watching a movie?" Now it's your turn being confused as you look at her.

Wanda laughs a little. "Well it's okay. I can still hear it. It's harder for me to hear it if I was the one that chew the crunchy snacks but thank you, y/n." She smiles once more and leans to you to give you a quick kiss on your cheek.

She snuggles up closer to you, wrapping her arms around you and looks at you with her sparkling green eyes, full of joy and thinking how lucky she is to have the thoughtful you in her life.

“What did I do to deserve you? Gosh, you are so adorable.” she says in a very loving, grateful tone.

You look at her with your blushing cheeks as usual, you don’t know how to react to her compliment for you because all you can do is smile and ask her back “What? What did I do?”

“Just being you, sweet and thoughtful to me.” she replies, followed by her giggle that always makes you want to laugh with her.

“Of course. You deserve everything.” You kiss her forehead and you hear her giggle more.

“Oh, the movie starts. Shall we watch it now?” you ask as soon as you notice the TV screen.

She nods with a smile.

_____

The first thirty minutes of the movie, both of you enjoy it together. The longer the movie passes, the more often you shift your position and it becomes too obvious for Wanda to notice.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

You look at her with a nervous smile. “Yes, I am okay, love. Why?”

“Oh nothing. Your thoughts are pretty loud. I meant I don’t really know what you are thinking but I know for sure your mind is spinning right now. Like, you are nervous or worried about something.” Your Sokovian girlfriend explains her own conclusion from what she figures from your thoughts. Despite her power that can hear your thoughts, Wanda promises you that she will never invade the privacy of your mind. Being the overthinker you are, sometimes everything in your head can be pretty loud for her to at least feel them.

You are trying your best to not think too much so it won’t give Wanda a complete gift away on what you really have on plan.

You laugh, hoping that it will cover the truth. “Nervous? Why would I be nervous?” you asked apprehensively while you clear your throat. Bunch of thoughts bounce around in your head, memorizing things while preparing the right answer for any possible questions that Wanda might ask.

Seeing more obvious and a little unusual behaviors of yours, Wanda pauses the movie. Silence is all she wants right now so she can hear you just in case you are going to say something, but you don’t.

A concerned sigh went out of her lips. “Y/n, sweetheart. Look at me, please. Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

You turn your body facing her now with your face looking down a little. You mumble a little and your hand slightly moves in a certain way as if you are rehearsing something.

“Babe, I can’t hear you and I can’t read your lips either. What did you say?” A line of confusion appears between her eyebrows. Her eyes try to look at your lips to read them.

You take a deep breath and exhale it slowly. “Okay..” you mumble once more under your breath then get on one knee.

You hold her hands and look into her eyes. Comfortable silence fills the room. “Wanda, my love.” The beautiful brunette in front of you looks so surprised with what she sees, not from what she reads on your lips because you didn’t say anything but your hands movements say it all.

You continue doing sign language for everything that you are about to say to her.

“I’m so glad that a year ago you came for my help at work and asked me where the beddings aisle was, because you were the sweetest and cutest woman I’ve ever met. My heart skipped a bit and knew that you were the one for me right then right away. Having a life with you in this past year has been the best privilege I ever have. Loving you is so easy because you are perfect and flawless. I want to keep going, having life and loving you for the rest of my life. So, Wanda, will you marry me?” you slow down your hand movement when you reach the last sentence to show more emotions in it and right after that, you grab the opened little box with a ring in it.

Wanda looks at you in awe and can’t hold back her happy tears. Joy warms her heart. She is touched by your effort and surprise at learning sign language, let alone proposing to her with it.

“Of course! Yes! A thousand times yes!” Due to how speechless she is from the enormous amount of happiness, Wanda’s hand did the sign language for her answer. She then pulls you to hug you and kiss you.

Several quick gentle kisses land on your lips and cheeks. You pull yourself back a little to see her joyful beautiful face. Wanda’s hand gently rubs your cheek and goes to the top of your head, caressing your hair as soon as you two end up snuggling on the couch.. Both of you looked at each other with the look of so much love.

“When did you learn sign language?” She questioned you in a curious tone. “Uh, Tony and Natasha have been helping me with it at the compound, plus he created this app that can help me learn more by myself whenever I can.”

“Wait, so all these overtime at work the last few months? You actually went to the compound to learn your proposal lines?” Wanda giggles and her cheeks blush at the same time.

“Yes, I have been going to the compound and no, I didn’t learn only the proposal lines. I learned everything. I know sign language now, only for you but I’m not a pro yet, so please bear with me.” you answer after you give a few more soft kisses all over her that draws more giggles from her.

“Aww, that’s really sweet. Thank you, y/n. I’m so lucky to have you.” Wanda expresses her genuine feelings.

“I love you, Wanda.”

Those words are the most beautiful words she ever reads on your lips that will always swoon her off her feet, fall for you over and over again.

“I love you too, my sweet.

A/n: Welp, that's all for today from me. I hope you enjoyed this short fluff. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

Taglist: @madamevirgo @musicinourlips @unstable-sapphic-hoe @fanboy7794 @chloe7076 @b0mbdotc0m @trikruismybitch @ichala @californianwhiterabbit @honey-sweet-hiraeth @imfuckinggenius @sxfwap @chaekhan @daenerys713 @luvmcgrath @stupidsapphicsstuff @pattypavo @imdoingsortagay @marvelwoman-sugarbaby @savethefbees @frvny @franfineashell @heyyoweveryone @ygtft-chen @yaaskasey @sweeet-likeeee-cinnamonn @paumxmff @dopeyouth @beaniejennie @ineedafinghug @idkwhatimwriting @lucydiibi @mainly-rebloging-fics-i-like @gloriousfoxruins @grxvitye @mcubreakdown101 @aos22 @wandanatstan @paulawand @yeeterthekeeper @femalehomosexual666 @snowdrop1026 @modernmonalisa @nothingisrealanyway @idamaemann @sweeterlust @royalityofmultifandom @playboysaleen @peabrain112 @gwhaley127 @harleyswanda @bodhi-j @darth-rain @cristin-rjd

[oodlesofweird]

Shuro thoughts (1201 words)

If i had to assign a term to Shuro that describes his character, it’d probably be ‘a lack of connection with others’, many of shuro’s relationships in dungeon meshi follow a similar pattern, in that they're all very neutral. He feels like he’ll constantly be in his dad’s shadow no matter what he does, leading to him not trying much, along with some resentment towards him. There’s also his relationship with Maizuru,who was one of the more positive figures in his life who he ends up blocking out as he grows older. Even his relationship with Hien is kinda. Nonexistent. They used to be quite close when they were kids, but their friendship eventually deteriorated when they grew older. 

It makes sense since the difference in status is more prevalent, but this made me think about how he reflects Laois. Even though they both have similar upbringings, with fathers who are in a leadership role which they would benefit from. Laios is still ostracized from the rest of his village, and pretty early on ends up leaving to become a soldier, where he ends up even more ostracized. It’s only when he leaves the army and goes to the island, that he becomes an adventurer and meets his party, where he finds companions who he’s on mostly friendly terms with. Despite everything he’s able to create his own life outside of his family. 

Meanwhile Shuro has presumably lived with his family up until he gets sent off on his adventure. He’s constantly in his fathers shadow, and everyone that he’s surrounded with is in some way related to his father. The retainers are all employed under his father and are more or less lended to him. Even when he leaves for the island, he’s still connected to him by the quest that he’s sent on, and his retainers that follow him. He doesn’t come to the island for himself, it’s for a competition arranged by his dad.

Another way that they’re foils is through their siblings. Laios’s relationship to Falin is incredibly important to the story. They both clearly love each other and left home to find their own path side by side. But Shuro and his siblings have a large distance between them. It’s never stated why, but I don’t think it’s made better by the whole, competition for inheritance thing. I think it’s also interesting how Laios’s adventure brings him closer to Falin. While Shuro’s takes him away from his brothers, furthering the gap between them.

Even in laios’s party, where he’s able to make connections with people not from his home, he still can’t really connect with others. Namari and Chilchuck both drink after work, Falin and Marcille are besties and all get along pretty well. They’re all comfortable enough with each other to speak their mind and jokingly riff on each other, all except for Shuro, whose relationship with them is much more like co workers. 

It’s the same in his old party. Hien and Benichidori are able to form a friendship with each other, and Tade forms a friendship with Izutsumi. But Shuro is distant from them all, to the point where him going “you guys did a good job, I’m sorry I dragged you guys down here” is enough to bring Maizuru to tears and confuse the hell out of them all. While Laios’s party criticizes him pretty openly, Shuro’s party instead just goes with what he does.

One similarity between him and Laios that I didn't really notice until now is that they both lack real friends, just for different reasons. Laios can’t find real friends because he can't read social cues or socialize well with other people, but he still tries to reach out to people even if things end up sour. Meanwhile Shuro doesn't have friends because he doesn't try to connect with other people, he's passive and only makes connections if they come to him first, ending in friendships that he’s not even happy with.

I also think it's interesting how he has a special relationship with both Touden siblings, just that one is out of love and one is out of hate 💀 Both of these relationships lead to him breaking out of his passive personality and making his own decisions instead of just moving through the motions. By falling in love with Falin, he makes the decision of finally leaving the party in order to form his own rescue team. Due to his hatred of Laios, he ends up getting into a fist fight and finally showing his true emotions and feelings. Both Touden siblings influence Shuro to make active decisions throughout the story (Proposing to Falin, leaving the party, deciding to turn marcille in, fighting Laios, etc). Even though these are bad decisions, (proposing to someone without any kind of romantic relationship first, fist fighting someone while half your party is dead), they are still him finding a voice. Both Laios and Falin make Shuro break away from what's expected and make his own path, even if it's very brief, and even if those decisions were very stupid.

Even though Shuro’s whole reason for coming to this island is the quest he’s sent on by his father, we don't really get much of that in the main manga, instead more focus is put on his relationship with Laios and Falin, (something something even narratively he finds his own path by having an arc based on his relationships instead of his quest). If he had an arc in the manga, I presume it would be around him finally understanding Laios? And eventually repairing the relationship between them and forming a real relationship (Though honestly i'm not sure about this). But nonetheless i think Shuro’s relationship with Laios does improve, even though he says he hates Laios, he also admits that he's envious of him. 

The two of them have personalities that fundamentally clash with each other while reflecting the other. Shuros passiveness and Laios' lack of observation skills basically guarantee their relationship would go south, but they do manage to pick up the pieces, after beating the shit out of each other. 

Laios and Shuro have a genuine talk where Shuro admits his envy, and even offers Laios a way to escape to the east, despite not being asked to. And in the final chapters, Shuro ends up hugging Laios with a genuine smile, despite not being comfortable with physical contact. Even though the two had a rough fight, their relationship manages to recover and become somewhat positive. 

By the end of the story, even though it's implied that Falin rejected Shuro (good for her), he's still on good terms with the Toudens. He finally makes his own decisions and speaks, and even though things got kinda ugly, he's still able to have a positive relationship with Laios and Falin, not as besties or as a married couple, but just as fellow people. He finally finds his voice and speaks up, end creates connections by the end of it. 

If anyone would like to add more to this or has points they wanna bring up please do ^^, these are just my disorganized thoughts that i finally wrote down.

[rafaslittleboy]

hngggg sonny would fill u up so muchhhcc youd feel his cum spurring inside u and hed cum so violently he’s groaning deep in his chest and his cock pounding into you hurting your cervix hnggg biting you and all before your mommy comes home from work ❤️

nsfw under the cut; incest, pussy mentions but no gendered terms. don’t read if you’re sensitive or not into dark/taboo stuff like this.

omfg I can imagine dad!sonny being so pent up for WEEKS because your mom isn’t satisfying him + his long hours at work, he’s always so busy never has time for himself but when he starts his little thing with you; he doesn’t fuck you as much as he would like to, properly fucking you once or twice a month—any other sexual act with his dear sweet summer child is all oral or hand stuff—so when he finally gets you he POUNCESSS on you and ravines you like an ANIMAL and you love it because you’re fucked stupid and dumb and drooling , trying to grasp onto his sweaty shoulders as he fucks into you like it’s his last fuck on earth and you FEEL it when he finishes inside you, thighs quite literally trembling with the force of his fucking. Feeling his cum spurt against your walls and the tip of him punching your cervix as if it could break in.

and oh my GOD don’t get me started on his groans, if there’s no one but you both in the apartment that man would be VOCAL talk about dirty talk turned up to the max—all praise and degradation, “fuck, that’s it, my sweet fuckin’ whore kid—you like daddy’s cock, huh?” And he slaps you for good measure, “say it” and you can barely remember your name.

Let’s face it he’s getting older and because he doesn’t get any action p-in-v (or p-in-a! next few fics won’t be gendered reader) wise that often, his stamina is deteriorating and is nothing like how it was a decade ago. Sonny’s orgasm creeps up on him on the four minute mark, but by that time he’s already made you cum twice because he’s so considerate and such a good dad! dad of the year award right here! your pussy gripping around him because it had no clue what to do, your used and abused and over sensitive wet clit burning because even after you’ve came twice he’s still circling it trying to force another one out of you by the time he finishes.

But when he does? Especially in the moment where he’s fucking you so deep and hard in your bed, he’s growling and his breaths are uneven and heavy and he’s saying things like; “Daddy’s gonna cum sweetie, gonna cum real deep inside ya, gonna fill ya right up—ya like that, baby? hmm? like the thought of ya dad fillin’ ya up?”

and you’re nodding and forget to breathe, your weak hand wrapping around his wrist that’s holding your hip down, making unintelligible sounds of affirmation and then he pulls another orgasm from you and the second your pussy clenched down on him he was a goner—back bowing and his whole body shaking as he fucked you both through your orgasms—and his voice?? ugh he lets out the most intense moan because his orgasm is HARD and feral.

It takes him a few seconds afterward to calm himself down enough to stop furiously pumping his cock deep inside you, (most likely bruising your insides and will have you walking funny), and he’s out of breath. Ofc he asks if you’re okay because what sort of father would he be if he didn’t look out for you? He knows he went just a little overboard, but by the dazed look you have on your face and the post-coital smile, he knows you’re okay.

Sonny helps clean you up, runs a bath for you and changes your very wet bedsheets into nice smelling clean ones, opening a window to allow fresh air in and with time to spare before your mom comes home. In fact, he just left the bathroom after giving you a sweet kiss to start on dinner when she walks in (obviously in one of her moods) but they don’t affect him anymore because the person he thinks is far more important than a bitter woman is a person he made himself.

[askablindperson]

Hello, I am a writer who wants to write about a character with Lebers Congenital Amaurosis, and I’ve been struggling to find resources or descriptions on what vision is like for people with that condition. If you’re okay with it, could you describe what vision is like for you? Thank you and have a wonderful day! And sorry if you’ve already been asked this a million times.

Hi! Thank you for asking, and I would be glad to answer. I know what you mean, too. LCA is still somewhat common in the blind community, but I have also found quite a lack of resources to explain how it works to other folks. LCA is rarely included in any of those blindness simulation filters, either, though those also aren’t perfect representations.

A quick disclaimer: most of what I will share here is based on my own personal experience as well as the other blind people with LCA I have personally met in the trends I have observed in the community. I’m not a medical professional though, and I really don’t know that much about how these things pan out statistically Speaking.

First, one thing you should know is that LCA is progressive. It tends to be very slow and steady about it, and it took me 10 years to notice that I had had a significant change in vision which I only fully noticed in the last few months, but it is progressive, so it will inevitably get worse over a person’s lifetime. It just might take its sweet time getting there, and you won’t notice any overnight changes. at least not in the folks I’ve known, or in myself, or in most of the literature I’ve seen discussing it. There may be outliers though that I am less aware of.

The other thing I will say is that most of the other blind folks I have known with LCA actually have significantly less vision than I do, usually being born with little more than light perception and often losing what’s left of that light perception within their first few years of childhood. so a lot of them are totally blind as adults, or still only have light and shadow perception.

As for mine, at least in my experience, I seem to be somewhat of an outlier in LCA, in that I’m quite a high partial case. I believe I’ve been at least legally blind since birth, meaning my visual acuity was at least 20/200 or worse with some visual field issues also, but I’ve always had quite a lot more residual vision than most of the other folks with LCA I have met personally. Not all of them though. When I was a young child, my visual acuity was probably around the 20/200 Marc, but now at 27, my better eye is at about 20/650 and the worst eye is somewhere in the ballpark of 20/5000. Don’t ask me how they can even measure it when it gets that severe lol.

In practical terms, the way I have always described my vision is that it’s a lot like looking through a fogged up mirror when you get out of the shower, a foggy window in the winter, or the super blurred out background in a movie. You can make out plenty of shapes and colors and lights, and you can get a vague sense of what a lot of objects might be, but there is no detail and it’s extremely blurred out. if you happen to wear glasses, I often say that it’s like a lot of folks without their glasses on, but amped up to 11, and that’s even WITH my glasses. Without them, it’s even blurrier, though I don’t really wear glasses much anymore.

That description is in reference to my better eye, mind you. The worst one is so much worse that I can rarely make out actual objects with it or even silhouettes of people. It’s still colorful and everything, but the blurriness is significantly worse to the point that the eye isn’t really useful.

For me personally, as I have gotten older, my central vision has actually deteriorated a little bit faster than my peripheral vision, so I can ironically see a little clearer out of the corners of my eyes then I can looking straight ahead. I don’t know how common this is amongst folks with LCA, especially since most of the folks I know only have light and shadow perception where it’s harder to measure that, But that’s how it is for mine. It wasn’t like that as a child, I would have considered my central and peripheral vision to be fairly similar most of my life, but in the last 10 years, my central vision is noticeably worse now than my peripheral. if I look at a ceiling light through the corner of my eye, and then shift my eye so I’m looking at that same ceiling light to the center of my eye, it is instantly blurrier, like a little foggy film was put over it.

Also, at least for me, I have quite a few blind spots in my vision that impact my overall visual field. Contrary to what those vision loss simulation filters will have you believe though, those are not represented by black spots or white spots in real life. They’re just gone. Think of it sort of like Photoshopping somebody out of a picture. If they are standing in your blind spot, it’s not that there’s a blob over top of them, it’s as if that section of the picture was just cut out, and the two halves around it smashed together as if that part was never there. It’s just missing.

In actuality, everybody has a blind spot, even people with no vision problems whatsoever, so you may be able to get a better understanding of this by researching the general Blindspot that everyone has. I just have more of them because pieces of my retina have completely deteriorated and died off from my disorder.

The discussion of central versus peripheral vision and the blind spots applies to both of my eyes, but like above, just a lot more severe in the eye that’s worse. It’s not quite to the point where it only has light and shadow perception, but it’ll probably get there in the next 10 years or so. I’ve never leaned very heavily on that eye because it’s always been the much weaker one, but these days it is a little bit funny to see just how wildly different the exam for my right eye is compared to my left eye nowadays.

Lastly though, that does finish up the description of what my vision actually looks like, but I do want to leave you with one final note of consideration, which is not to focus overly hard on exactly what your character sees when writing them. At the end of the day, most of us who have been blind our entire lives don’t really go about our days actively paying attention to exactly what we can see and what we can’t, or thinking about what things look like through our eyes at that moment in time. We’re just living our lives with the vision we have, because we were born this way so it’s our normal, and sometimes focusing on it too much in the writing can cloud the characterization more than it helps.

All of that said, I do hope that this provides a useful framework. Mostly, my vision is just ridiculously blurry and really only gets a tiny bit less blurry with glasses, with a few holes punched here and there for good measure lol. To be honest, when I’m spending time with other blind people, we don’t actually usually spend all that much time describing exactly what each other’s vision looks like to each other or anything—it’s usually not exactly the most interesting thing we want to talk about—so I don’t know how common my specific details are to others with LCA. But that’s pretty much the long and short of my personal experience, and hopefully it can be useful when understanding your character.

[i-heart-hxh]

Hi! 😅 What is your least favorite stereotype or generalization about Killugon/Leopika that you see often in the Hunter x Hunter fandom? It doesn’t have to be the most common ones, you can say some that you just personally don’t agree with!

Hello! I've seen other peoples' answers floating around, it's interesting to read different takes on this topic!

I want to preface this by saying I think one of the great things about fandom is that everyone is able to explore their own ideas freely and create the kind of content they want to see in the world, so while I have my own personal tastes I don't want to discourage anyone from creating what makes them happy, even if it's not my thing.

I'm quite picky about characterization personally, though I don't think my tastes/opinions are too unpopular.

With KilluGon especially, a lot of what bothers me boils down to making their relationship/dynamic way more uneven than it is in canon. One of the things I value about their relationship is that they're the same age, similarly value and care about each other, they have around the same strength/level of talent, etc. It's so special that they managed to find someone who matches them so well, someone they can truly consider an equal.

So, I find it off-putting when people drastically change the balance between them so one is much bigger/stronger/older looking or acting/has more power in the relationship/etc. (or vice versa of course). It just doesn't feel like their dynamic any more at that point. Of course they have different personalities so they'll have different ways of interacting with each other, and I'm also not talking about normal height variation (though I personally prefer them to end up around the same height, give or take a few inches on either side), but when there's a strong focus on some form of inequality between them in the dynamic, it's very unappealing to me. A lot of times this comes from trying to force them into stereotypes they don't fit.

I've talked about this extensively in meta form, but the common belief that Killua's feelings are much stronger and heavier than Gon's really bothers me, too. While I agree that Killua clearly seems to have a better understanding of his feelings and what they mean (I think he's ahead of Gon in this because of his introspective personality/higher awareness on the topic), that doesn't mean Gon's feelings towards Killua have less weight or meaning.

His mental health deteriorating in Chimera Ant Arc and him lashing out that one time doesn't erase all of the tons of kindness and affection he gave Killua prior to that, and it's clear that Killua is incredibly special to Gon. He even states that out loud multiple times to Killua! The ways they show it are different, but in my eyes they adore each other equally, and I do see that extending into a romantic sense as well--even if Gon still has to "catch up" in terms of understanding the nature of his feelings.

I also think some people don't know how to portray Gon in contrast to Killua, and he can come off as bland and generic instead of his amazing complicated self, or he gets treated like he's not intelligent in his own right.

Also, I totally get why people make this kind of thing (because I love tragedies in other stories), but I personally can't deal with endings where Gon and Killua don't ultimately get to be happy together. They've just been through so much already, they clearly want to be together, plz don't separate them ultimately... 😭 I know people gotta explore the angst, and to be fair I definitely like the angst in the context of what they've been through/what they might still have to go through to be back together again, but I just can't deal with unhappy endings for them. I also don't like seeing them in relationships with or even romantically interested in anyone else even temporarily, but that's just me being extra picky, LOL.

I don't engage with LeoPika works to quite the same degree even though I like the ship, but I get irritated when people try to push heteronormativity on them too much because of Kurapika's appearance. People acting like it's just a regular ol het ship or putting Kurapika in effeminate roles his personality doesn't fit at all are confusing to me.

I hope that's helpful! I'm sure I have plenty more pet peeves saved up from all the years I've spent in the fandom, but those are the major fandom trends I don't care for.

[demvalhaken]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!! Just some super cool arts

If I EVER had the patience to write and draw the Catecis comic, it’d look like this

This is just a grasshopper sailor out on the Waspian port

I was thinking about naming him Sir. Irian like the Iris flower. The thing is I have to differentiate him from Iris, a male monarch Butterfly across the entire world. Or Sir. Astroway as his last name is Astroway due to his sailor family using stars as a way to travel.

About my long break: Look guys, I haven’t been doing well mentally. I am in a depressive state, I am sleep deprived, I am done with life. To draw so much and pour your time and skill into an artwork only for a few likes can be frustrating. I don’t post my art for fame or love, I do it to share my ocs and ideas, I don’t want the masses to flock, I just want recognition for my work. I didn’t really mean to take a break, I get distracted very easily and forget to post. I wish I could post more but art takes time, I have to develop ideas and passion due to my constant art block and burnout. The only good thing in my life is just being alive. There is a large scar on my neck because I gave myself a friction burn with my lanyard at school due to anxiety :( I have mental problems, whatever I have, it isn’t good and will probably slowly deteriorate me to a depressive glob of my former self, but I will never get diagnosed. My family is constantly angry at me for no reason, I get that my clean obsessed behaviour can get annoying especially when I panic and get water everywhere, but I hate to be yelled at for something that I cannot control or fix. They say I am overreacting and will got over it, but I’ve tried, there is no fixing this. That’s why I’ll probably never ever get a diagnosis or therapy session. I lied, I am actually not as okay as I say I am. If I ever don’t post for a period time, please know that it’s either from lack of art or mental issues. I am sorry for not posting in awhile as my usual breaks take a time of 3 days or 2. I am deeply sorry.

Bevel, Snow, and Berry.

I drew these in my math book, very classic place to doodle, I know. There’s not a lot of doodles in my book though, I am usually trying to do equations and get an 100 on my test

I finally got a haircut, though my hair is now a short messy thing, I feel quite confident even if I don’t fully look masculine. My arm hair should be quite an indicator and the trans pin inside my backpack, haha! That pin was made by a friend of mine, don’t worry he’s very fruity and slay. Idk if it’s just my senses but my hairdresser was definitely an ally, he slayed, my hair is hairing. Also I have giant eyebags and a cowlick, like I literally have Dem’s cowlick.

Here’s some more little oc ideas. Eclipse is my first transfem oc, I know I know I’m slaying. She’s has a twin sister, Luna! Yes, Eclipse and Luna are Hornet twins, from the same egg btw. I still don’t know how it works, I’m too tired to research though. Arctic and Viper are a married couple, I like to think Arctic is just a lesbian and her/his wife is a crazy queen with schizophrenia who totally didn’t kill her family. They’re both from Bloodlust’s time period, though a little older.

I don’t want to talk about it… This is really gross but because Snow’s family wanted to keep the bloodline “pure” she’s SHORT and albino but like literally no one else in her family is albino… poor Snow… GUYS DONT MARRY YOUR SIBLINGS AND COUSINS… Bevel transmasc headcannon, I’m not making it cannon yet because Bevel is a lesbian.

Layze, Funkyfrogbait, and Bevel with one tooth

@purpledemonss asked for this minus Bevel, that was my idea

OKAY I LOVE YOU GUYS SM, EAT THIS UP, STAY A MENACE TO SOCIETY JUST DONT EAT LEATHER UNLESS YOU ARE DEATHLY STARVED

[theoddcatlady]

My Father Survived The Chair of Truth

I was the only one home when my father called me in for his death bed confession.

He wasn’t very old in the grand scheme of things, only fifty-eight, but after a violent mugging that took place about twenty years ago, his physical health hadn’t always been great. It really took a downhill turn last year. Heart failure. And it just wasn’t getting better.

My sister Amber and I were taking care of him as his health deteriorated. Last week though, Amber was running errands for our grandmother, so yeah. I was alone. When dad called for me I thought he might need a drink or help getting to the bathroom.

Instead, he told me to sit down. He told me I needed to know the truth, the truth about the mugging and about what really happened that night.

After all of this, he’d pass in his sleep a few hours later. I can’t ask for any more details. All I can do is relay this story to you… and find out how much truth there really is to it. Below is the confession, word for word.

~*~

You know, if your mother and I weren’t in the middle of our first separation, it may have never happened. I wouldn’t have been alone in bed that night. Alone in the house, since she took your older sister with her and you were still two months out from being born. That following morning I was found on the streets, all bloodied up, pockets turned out and missing my shoes. They concluded I had been mugged. I let them maintain that conclusion.

I hadn’t even left my house the night before. It was an early night, I was tired from work. I basically passed out on the couch while the TV was on. I don’t remember if anyone broke in, if I woke up before they abducted me.

The next thing I do remember? Waking up strapped to a chair, dressed in white scrubs with electrodes plastered on my now shaved head and sitting with a circle of people in the exact same condition.

I only recognized three of the other people there, and I only knew two of their names. One of my classmates from back when I was in high school was to my right, I barely recognized Magnolia since most of the blonde hair had been shaved right off. A few patches were still plastered to her scalp, whoever had taken the razor to our heads hadn’t been the most meticulous about it. Perhaps because they had a lot to get done before we woke up.

The other two I recognized was Augusta, an older woman who lived down the street from where I grew up, and the homeless man that I usually saw begging for cash in downtown was to my left. I didn’t know his name, I only recognized him because he’d been there every day.

There were eight of us in total. The woman right across from me had smeared lipstick and a cut on her forehead, maybe the razor had slipped during her head shave. Next to her was another woman with long fake fingernails and a natural scowl that was even there when she was unconscious, like she sucked on lemons in her spare time. The most conscious of us was a middle aged guy with a few more bruises than the rest of us, I imagine he put up a fight, he was a big dude. Finally there was this portly, smaller man who didn’t need his head shaved, since he was already bald as an egg.

Magnolia began breathing faster when she came to full consciousness, glancing around wildly and in full panic. “What the fu- where am I!? What’s going on!?” She yanked at the straps, which didn’t so much as budge. “Get these things off me?! Help! Someone help!”

The burly bruised guy shushed her loudly. “Quiet down. Don’t want to alert the wrong people we’re up,” He craned his neck around to look at the room around us, it was quite bare other than the circle of people strapped to heavy duty chairs- dark brick walls, a cement floor with a drain in the center. The only light was in the center of the ceiling, and that thing was set on to bright as it could go. Everyone looked a little washed out, a little pale, sickly.

The one thing I had missed was the speaker, attached to the wall right behind my head. It crackled to life before shrieking with feedback. This definitely got everyone awake, the portly fellow moaning and bitching the loudest while the woman with smeared lipstick being the only one perfectly quiet. Her eyes I remember the most, dark and careful. She was watching everyone in the room.

“Welcome, everyone.”

Once the feedback died down, the male voice coming from it was perfectly calm, smooth. It would’ve almost been soothing if the situation surrounding it wasn’t so bizarre.

“I am the Judge.”

I flexed against the bindings experimentally. There was no coming loose from them. I was stuck there, here for whatever this ‘Judge’ had planned.

“You sit in them now because you have all committed crimes. Crimes ranging from white lies to ones that may result in… capitol punishment.”

The scowling woman’s jaw dropped. “What do you mean, capitol punishment?”

“This is my court room. Where we are, no one will hear you scream. I advise you don’t cry out unless you can’t avoid it.” The Judge didn’t even take note of the interruption. “These are my Chairs of Truth. When we are finished, you will pay for what you’ve done. If you lie or talk your way around the truth, you will be punished. We will start with you, Connie.”

The scowling woman sputtered. “How dare you! I’m not a criminal! Do you know who I am?”

“Yes. Of course I do, Connie Andrews.” The Judge sounded almost… amused. “I know everything about you. Your first question is this: where do you go every Wednesday afternoon?”

“Are you for real?” Connie looked genuinely baffled.

“We are starting with an easy question. One that has minor effect on your life, legally or illegally. Where do you go every Wednesday afternoon?”

Connie looked relieved. “Um… I get my nails done,” Her fingers tapped on the arm of her chair. “What, is that a crime?”

“We’ll come back to that. Frankie? Can I call you Frankie, Frank Smith?”

The burly guy shifted in his chair. “You can,” He decided.

“Frank, during highschool, what was the extracurricular you and your wife participated in?”

“I was a football player, she was a cheerleader.” Frank cleared his throat. “And who are you?”

The Judge quietly chuckled. “I am not important. I am here only to fulfill judgment, officer,” He cleared his throat, “Onto the next. Augusta Armstrong? How many children do you have?”

My neighbor looked terrified, shaking in her chair like a scared Chihuahua. “I have five, they’re the light of my life. Please, please, let me go,” She whimpered.

“If you answer these questions, we can see about that. Charles Nolan?”

“When I get out of here, I’m going to sue you!” The man snapped, lurching in his chair. It didn’t so much as budge, it had been bolted to the floor.

“Charles, what is your occupation? No need for specifics, you like those, I’m aware.”

“Businessman, I work for-”

Charles suddenly breathed in sharply. I had to crane my neck around the homeless guy to see what had happened. I only caught the glimpse of what looked like a sewing needle exiting Charles’ arm and going back into the chair, a pinpoint of blood beading from his skin.

Fuck. I took a better look at the chair, which I’d only assumed was a heavy duty wooden chair. Now I saw there was holes all in it, some small enough for needles to come out and jab, others thin slats that looked large enough for daggers to come out and slice through us.

“When I say something, I advise you listen,” The judge explained patiently. “Harley Scott?”

The homeless man lifted his head up. I’d never heard his name before then. It was strange, finally putting a name to the face I’d seen so often. “Yes?” He said, barely louder than a whisper.

“Harley, what branch of the military were you in, and what was your rank?”

“A-army,” Harley swallowed, “Private.”

“Edward Adkins.”

I flinched when I heard my name.

“What is the date of your wedding anniversary?”

I actually had to think for a second. My mind was running blank.

“What is the date of your wedding anniversary? Don’t make me ask a third time.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I- it’s June 6,” I managed to get out.

I felt genuine relief when he went on to Magnolia, asking what she did for some extra spending cash, and she responded that she was a babysitter. The final question was asked to the woman with smeared lipstick and careful eyes, and it asked where she lived. I don’t remember the exact address, but I know it was in a rough part of town. Part of town I’d never go, anyway.

The Judge sighed, sounding pleased with our cooperation. “Very good, so far, only one punishment had to be doled out,” He said.

“Oh go fuck yourself!” Charles snapped. This did get the needle jabbing back into his arm, right where the wound had just began to scab over.

“These questions are not going to get any easier. In fact, they will be harder. So learn to cooperate and answer truthfully now. It will save you later.”

I expected him to start going around the circle again. Instead, the voice surprised me.

“What is your occupation, Delilah?”

“Unem-” Delilah cut herself off, sighing. “I bet that’s not what you mean. Fine. Sex worker. Prostitute. Hooker. Whatever you want to call it. That what you wanted to hear?”

“Very well. Charles, how did your friend Rosemary Marshall make so much money from your company’s stock?

Charles shifted. “Good luck?” He tried to lie, so poorly though that no one was convinced.

I didn’t expect to hear the crackle of electricity and Charles’ eyes to bug out of his sockets, his teeth clamping so tight as his body jolted with electric current running through his veins. When he finally did manage to scream, he flopped back against his chair, screeching and howling at the top of his lungs. The room beforehand reeked of antiseptic, now I could detect a faint hint of urine. The rest of us sat in mostly dumb silence, the only sounds being Charles gasping for breath and Augusta crying. I certainly didn’t know how to react.

“Charles? Answer the question correctly.”

“I…” Charles swallowed. “I gave her some information… that helped her out. She’s a single mom, she needed the money!”

“Which you took a cut from. About ten thousand dollars, a high price from the single mom you claim you sympathize with. Edward?”

Fuck.

“How did you pass your final exam in algebra, senior year?”

I actually sighed with relief. That wasn’t nearly so bad as I expected, since I was following up on Charles’ question. “My friend helped me cheat.”

“Your friend’s name?”

“Jordan. Jordan Mills. He was a genius, he knew I needed his help. He gave me the answers.”

The Judge paused for a moment before turning on Magnolia. “And you, Magnolia? How did you pass your SATs with such high scores? Remember, I can see the rest of your grades. They’re… barely mediocre.”

“What!? They’re-” Magnolia glanced over at Charles, who still looked like a mess. “… I cheated too,” She grumbled.

“Both of you, such poor students, in the same graduating year,” The Judge tutted his tongue, “Our future generation is looking so promising already. Frankie, what happened to the cocaine from the raid on the Wolfe home?”

“It’s in evidence,” the answer came out so fast I think ‘Frankie’ didn’t even consider it a lie, and for a second I thought it wasn’t a lie either.

Then the knife came out and sliced clean through the meat of his shoulder. To his credit, Frankie just breathed in sharply, gritted his teeth and took it.

“I presume you want to change your answer?” The judge asked as the knife slid back out, blood now staining Frankie’s white scrubs.

“Mm… mmhmm,” Frankie exhaled slowly, his body shaking as his face went white. “M-me and another officer took some. S-sold it to someone we knew was a dealer.”

“Therefore putting it back on the streets that you swore to take it off of?”

“It’s different!” Frankie swallowed, his eyes fluttering shut as his shoulder continued to bleed. “The original punks were dealing to highschoolers, kids! The dealer we sold to, he only sold it to thugs who have already ruined their lives.”

“… An interesting point of view, for sure,” The Judge said. “Now, Augusta? How did you get your eldest to sleep sometimes?”

“Oh, I’d rock him to sleep,” Augusta bobbed her head up and down, “He was always so fussy, and-”

She didn’t even get a chance to finish her lie. Her whole body seized up and she screeched as the electric crackle filled the room. It wasn’t as long a shock as it was for Charles, but Augusta looked far worse for wear, gasping and coughing as she tried to calm down.

“Augusta. Stop lying.”

Augusta wailed before her head flopped forward. “A… little whiskey in his bottle… never really hurt anyone, honest, how could I ever hurt my own children?” She said.

I was blown away. Magnolia cheated on SATs, a police officer dealing drugs, and now one of the nicest neighbors on my block gave her kids alcohol so they’d sleep. Christ.

It didn’t get better. That first round wasn’t always fair, after all, all I had to answer for was a false grade, and Harley admitted he took part of a military hazing in which the poor victim had to streak across the base naked. Meanwhile Connie confessed to cheating with a married man and convincing him to leave his wife for her, only to completely blow him off once the wife took the sap for all he was worth. He couldn’t spoil her if he was broke, after all.

I only lied once, I learned quickly enough after that. It was over something stupid, about driving drunk and getting into an accident, slammed into a tree. Jordan covered for me that time too, said he was the one driving since I was tanked. I’d never been electrocuted before that day and I never wanted to again. I didn’t judge Charles for wetting his pants after that, you lose all control when you get shocked like that and that’s all I’ll say about it.

It’s amazing how often some of them chose to lie, and which ones chose not to. Delilah never once lied, completely blank faced as she told us how she robbed one of her johns of everything in his wallet because he passed out drunk or how she didn’t tell her boyfriend that she tested positive for gonorrhea, although the Judge was kind enough to inform her that it was likely him that infected her and not vice versa. Harley only lied twice, once about that hazing and another time about how he abandoned his pregnant girlfriend without even a note.

Meanwhile, Charles had to be shocked and stabbed nearly ever other question, and Augusta lied literally every time. The elderly woman I’d thought was the kindest soul admitted to so many shitty things, some things I can’t even say. All I can say is I pity those poor children of hers, with such a nightmare mom that would beat them for shattering a glass or literally calling the police on her second youngest when he brought his black girlfriend home. She had claimed the girl was trying to rob them. Actual sociopath.

We’re all devils, you know. Devils with different sins blackening our hands, tearing up our souls. No one is innocent. And the Judge knew every one of those sins, no matter how some of us tried to hide them. I wish I knew how he knew that Frankie beat a suspect to get a confession, only for it to be revealed that suspect was innocent all along. I can’t even imagine how he found out that Magnolia slashed her ex boyfriend’s tires because she was mad at him for dumping her, especially since he dumped her since she was so goddamn controlling he couldn’t even see his friends.

For that final round, we all looked fucked up. Shocked, stabbed with everything from knitting needles to steak knives, being forced to reveal our darkest secrets around people that were acquaintances at best, and most were just strangers.

“It’s time for your final question. You will only have one chance to answer this properly. We will start with Augusta.”

Augusta definitely looked the worst off. Like I said, she lied every question, sometimes even more than once. I was surprised she was still alive.

“Augusta, how did your eldest two children die?”

Augusta shakily inhaled and my heart sunk to the bottom of my stomach.

“Doctors… don’t know… I don’t either… mystery illness took my babies from me when they were just six and four years old… let me go home,” Augusta whined.

The Judge sighed.

“Augusta, that’s not the truth. And I told you, this time you would only get one chance to answer correctly.”

The door on the far end of the room and the Judge finally walked out. We finally saw his face. He was tall, well built, probably at least a little handsome, but by that time my brain felt like watery pudding so all I could do was blankly stare at him. He pushed in front of him a television connected to a VHS player, tapes stacked on top of the screen.

The Judge plucked the first tape up, showing us all the name ‘AUGUSTA’ written in black sharpie on the front. He placed the tape in the VHS player and stepped back.

It was a recording of medical documents, a lot of them. The camera panned over several paragraphs nice and slow so we could get the general gist. And that general gist? Augusta’s children would get sick for no discernible reason, but would recover at the hospital. Once they got sent back home, they’d just get sick again. And one day, they both got just too sick and passed away.

“Munchhausen’s by proxy,” The Judge said, and I saw true pain in his eyes as he stood by the wall, where eight switches were neatly lined up. Each of them had a name beneath them, our names. “What are your final words, Augusta?”

“I…” Augusta shook her head. “No, I loved my children, I really did…”

She paused to take a breath and that’s when the Judge flipped the switch.

Augusta writhed and her eyes went so wide they looked like they were going to fall out of her head. She wailed one last time before her eyes rolled back and then the only movement from her came from the electric current.

The switch was turned off and the Judge looked back at us. Then he raised his hand and had his fingers ready at Delilah’s switch.

“Delilah?”

The woman, the truthful one, finally looked up. “Yes?” She asked.

The Judge stared at her. “Your boyfriend. Calvin McLaughlin. Was his murder premeditated?”

“… Yes.” Delilah bowed her head. “… he had friends in the force. He was getting out of jail for nearly killing me, because none of them believed me. So I just waited for him to get home. I waited for him to get drunk. And I wasn’t going to wait for that first punch, so I took a baseball bat and I smashed his head in.”

There was a deathly quiet pause before the judge lowered his hand from Delilah’s switch. The Judge turned his gaze on Frankie, who went pale.

“How did your wife die, Frankie?” He asked.

Frankie, to his credit, did come off as convincing. “Car accident. She went off the road, killed her instantly,” He said.

The Judge did his best to hide any emotion to us, but I did see that look of murderous intent as he grabbed another VHS that had Frankie’s name written on it. He put it in.

Another recording of another document. An autopsy report, about how a Mrs. Nancy Smith had many injuries that were in different phases of healing. How her ribs had been broken multiple times in the past, and this time one of those rib fragments broke free and punctured her heart. Followed by that were reports, doctor’s reports about Nancy’s many visits to the hospital, all for ‘accidents’.

“Was Nancy that clumsy, Frankie?” The Judge asked quietly. “I highly doubt it. Your last words?”

“You don’t understand!” Frankie blurted out. “No one seems to understand how hard our job is, what we see! It takes a toll! It’s not my fault that Nancy didn’t get it-”

I turned away from this electrical death, and when I heard the electrical chair powered down I looked up to see a froth bubbling from the dead cop’s lips, his dead eyes staring at the now flickering light on the ceiling.

“Connie Andrews?”

Connie slowly looked up at the Judge, her face twisted in rage.

“Where did you get the poison for all of the husbands you killed?”

“Fuck you,” She spat at him, saliva landing on his clean white shirt. The Judge simply wiped it off, picked up another tape that no doubt had her name on it, and put in the VHS player.

This time it wasn’t a document, it was a woman exiting a nail salon and heading into a small drug store that happened to be right next door. It was clear the video was taken from someone’s car. Connie exited the store about ten minutes later with a small bag. A newspaper was raised in front of the camera, revealing the date.

“This was two days before your third husband mysteriously passed in his sleep. Your last words?”

Connie went white as The Judge raised his hand for her switch. “No, wait! Don’t do it! I’ll give you whatever you want! I’ll confess! I’ll tell the truth!” She yelped.

Click. The acrid smell of Connie’s fake fingernails melting was so bad it made my head spin.

Magnolia shook her head wildly as The Judge went to her switch next. “I never hurt anyone! What the hell are you doing?!” She screamed, thrashing about so wildly I thought she might actually tear an arm free.

“What did you tell your boyfriend, Zachary Cullen, to do before he shot and killed himself?” The Judge’s stare.

“That… that wasn’t my fault!” Magnolia shook her head again and again, the strap holding her head in place actually coming loose. “How was that my fault?!”

The Judge held up a finger before pulling a voice recorder from his pocket. “This doesn’t need video,” He said simply before he hit play.

The conversation I heard… I can’t repeat it. It was too terrible. Magnolia telling her boyfriend again and again how worthless he was, how he was such a pathetic waste of space, and how she couldn’t wait for him to kill himself because that was the only good thing he’d ever do for himself.

The recording ended with a gunshot. The Judge cocked his head to the side.

“Your last words?”

“How was that my fault!?” Was all she wrote. Being right next to the person being shocked, it’s… it’s so disgusting. I could smell the burning hair and skin, hear every garbled sound that ripped its way out of her throat as she jolted and contorted in horrifying ways.

Charles moaned loudly as The Judge approached the switch. “Don’t. Don’t ask,” He said, even though he knew what would happen.

“Charles? Last month, early morning. Rushing to work because you were late. Did anything happen on that drive?”

Charles didn’t even speak, he just shook his head.

Another tape was taken off the VHS player, the Judge flashing the front to show off Charles’ name.

This was from a traffic cam. A couple was walking across the street, probably the same age your mother and I were at the time. The collision happened so fast, the car slammed into them and sent the man flying over the hood while the woman was crushed under the car. The car stopped for a moment, just a moment, and I recognized the bald head that poked its way out of the window. Just for a second.

And then he zoomed off, leaving the bodies broken and bleeding in the street.

“Mr. Oscar Long was dead on arrival, but Miss Hannah Garcia? She took longer to die, and she suffered for every minute of it. Do I even need to ask for your last words?”

“It was just an accident!” Charles wailed.

I don’t need to describe what happened next. I’m sure you know by now. Another human being electrocuted to death, executed by the expressionless Judge.

Harley sighed shakily as The Judge looked at him. “And?” was all the Judge said.

“… I know what I did was wrong.” Harley admitted, his head bowed before he raised it and looked at The Judge. “So I will not be confessing today, Judge. I know what I deserve.”

The Judge paused and I caught a glimpse of something. Sympathy. “Being apart of the massacre of a village of innocent people and then covering it up. The act of a cowardly soldier. So, I believe this is the bravest thing you’ve ever done.”

“Just end it already,” Harley said, his eyes closing as he prepared for the shock.

“I won’t make you suffer.”

For a moment, I thought the Judge might have an inkling of mercy in him. Instead, he crossed the room of corpses and grabbed Harley’s head. It was so efficient, the twist of his head, the snap of his neck. Harley was dead in less time than it takes to finish a sentence. Perhaps it was mercy in the Judge’s mind. It was certainly quicker than what the others went through, that was for sure.

The only people left that were still alive in that room were me, Delilah, and The Judge. I was the only one left who had a final question. He went to his switches. I knew what he was going to ask.

“Why did you kill Jordan Mills, Edward?”

I took a deep breath.

“Because I was in love with his girlfriend. And she wouldn’t give me a second look as long as Jordan was alive.”

“And the girlfriend?”

“We’re now married. Have a daughter. We have another kid on the way.”

Delilah stared at me, probably shook that someone else confessed their most dirty secret, their most wicked of sins. The Judge nodded.

“And with that, court is adjourned.” The Judge left the room, coming back a moment later with two needles. He jabbed one into Delilah’s neck, the woman’s eyes flickering as she fell unconscious.

“Why did you do this?” I asked as the Judge walked up to me, tilting my head to the side with the hands he’d just used to murder six people.

“So you never do it again,” The Judge hissed before the needle entered my neck.

The next thing I know I’m lying on the street, cops are all around me, asking if I was okay and what happened. I was back in the clothes I’d fallen asleep with, the only sign that anything that had happened was the bruises on my wrists and the memories.

Oh, I know, you never expected me to have taken a life too. I regret it. Jordan was… kind to me. It was a moment of rage, something not at all planned out. I was just lucky no one ever found the body until it was too decomposed to really tell anything. Everyone assumed he fell off the hiking trail and hit his head on the way down, causing his death.

I paid for it my own way, of course. Ever since that night in the Chair of Truth, I’ve practically been a saint. Paid my taxes, watched my words, donated time and money to help others, and even when your mother finally left me for good, I never held it against her.

Why? Well, it’s hard to do anything wrong when you know someone’s gone through your life with a fine tooth comb. The fact someone is still watching me, no matter what I do, and I feel if I ever slipped up again, I’d wake up in the Chair, and next time I’d not get away so easily.

And I hope, my son, that you learn from my mistakes… that no matter how well you hide your sins, you will be found out, whether in the afterlife or this one.

[mann-walter]

Palpatine and Aging

It has been quite some time since I last posted about Palpatine or Star Wars in general. My interest has shifted a little these last months of the year. But I have returned.

I thought at first that I’d share my revised take on whether or not Palpatine saw himself as doing what was right, but I changed my mind last minute (I had to purge my 300+ words draft). Instead, will be discussing or rather sharing my idea on Palpatine’s fear of death or as I prefer it, frustration and fear of getting older.

I wish they hadn’t made Palpatine physically strong throughout his adult life or that he played the part of the frail old man. What I want is for him to… age. I want his physical abilities and strength to deteriorate, for him to really need the walking stick and for him to abandon lightsaber combat because his body cannot afford it anymore (not just because he sees it as beneath him), and that can’t be combated with Force amping his body. I want this to factor into his race for immortality or, as I prefer it, eternal youth. I think that’d be fun because it adds to Palpatine a shade of humanity. He subjects everything to his will safe for his own body, so he fears that if he can’t control his own body everything else will eventually slip through his fingers and he’ll have power no more.

***

This is heavily inspired by a couple of articles I read a while back about celebrities and their experiences with aging and just general observations of the elderly around me. For many, these physical and mental changes, often for the worse and usually without cure, are not easy to accept especially if they impact something very vital like careers, hobbies, abilities they take great pride in, or simply themselves. Some people accept it eventually but many are still bitter about it.

It's a fascinating topic, though why I rope Palpatine into the discussion, I don’t know.

[thetravelerwrites]

Being a mom has made me appreciate my mom more than I ever did before, and I have always been very much appreciative of her, even when she was still here. It has also made me realize how much of an absentee father my dad was, how toxic he still is, and how mentally and emotionally abusive he has been to me growing up. The stark contrast in their parenting styles has made me want to be an even better parent to my child, by learning as many lessons from my own mother’s unconditional love, and learning what not to do from my dad’s distance and disinterest.

Discussion of surgery, medical procedures, and toxic parenting below the cut:

A lot of you know that I was burned in an explosion when I was 2 years old. I’ve had somewhere between 85 and 90 surgeries (and hundreds of individual procedures, both with and without anesthetic) and my mother was present for every single one of them before she passed, except for one. She skipped that one because she had just started a new job and thought her boss wouldn’t let her take the week off she’d need to come with me. 

She was the last thing I saw when I went in and the first thing I saw when I came out. She’d hold my hand, stroke my hair, and her heart would break every single time I told her that I was scared and wanted to go home. It destroyed her to watch me be wheeling into the operating room, sobbing and begging her not to let me go in, and even though she never let me see her upset, she’d go back to the waiting room or the assigned hospital room and just cry the entire time I was in surgery. When I came out, she would swallow her tears, smile at me, and welcome me back with a kiss on my forehead. My mother struggled with watching me suffer and felt my pain as if it were her own, but she never left me, never faltered in support for me, and she was always there for the next procedure, no matter what.

My father, on the other hand, escaped. He ran. He took a long haul trucking job that took him away from his injured family 48 weeks out of the year. He left my mother two care for two special needs children (my older brother and me) and my infant brother, who was born six hours after the explosion. He left under the pretense of earning money, but he abandoned us because he couldn’t handle the circumstances emotionally. He’s admitted as such to my sister, though he’ll never admit it to me. To this day, he can’t even talk about those times. He has completely shut that part out of his memory and won’t discuss it. After he returned when I was 12, I barely knew him, and he didn’t know a thing about me. He loves to claim we were best friends back then, but I know now that it’s actually quite easy to get along with someone you don’t have any emotional investment in, which is a concept he doesn’t seem to understand.

He’s told me before that he wished he’d waited ten years after getting married before having children, and that he should only have had two, an indirect way of him saying he wished my brother and I (who are the eldest and were both special needs kids) hadn’t been born. The first time I stayed the weekend with a boyfriend, he told me that whenever my boyfriend broke up with me, I should get the money up front from the next one, implying that me staying with my boyfriend overnight was akin to prostitution. I was 25 years old at the time. He tried to have my insurance changed against my will by giving all of my information to an insurance salesman I had never met over the phone, and when I protested, he screamed at me in front of strangers that I didn’t appreciate him trying to help me (even though he was literally committing insurance fraud). I was 30 and had been handling my own insurance for over a decade. We stopped speaking for a year after that. It honestly should have stayed that way.

A few years ago, I learned that the reconstruction they performed on my airway is deteriorating and that I would need to have a tracheotomy (breathing tube) implanted, and it will be permanent unless I can get approved for a full tracheal transplant. The first of this kind of surgery was performed in January of 2021, meaning that this surgery is highly experimental and not something my insurance will cover because it’s risky and there’s basically no data on it’s success rate.

When the doctor was telling me about the surgery, he mentioned that the closest specialist that could attempt it is in Cleveland, Ohio (I live in Mississippi). If I were approved for the surgery, not only will I have to pay for it, but I'll also have to pay for the three months of aftercare and I will need to have a support system in place so that I don't spend three months alone, and I’ll have to pay for that, too. I'm disabled and live below the poverty line, so this is going to be a monumental undertaking.

My father drove me to the tracheotomy surgery (because I couldn't drive myself) and heard the doctor telling me all this, and as we're driving home afterward, he says to me, "Why don't we do this? We buy an RV that I and Ella (my daughter) can live in instead of an apartment or hotel. Then, at the end of the three months, I (my dad) will just keep the RV."

I asked him why he would keep the RV, and he told me it would be to make up for all the income he would lose over the three months he’d be taking care of me. I was astounded by the suggestion, because, A: I didn't ask him to be my support system, my sister is more than happy to drop her entire life to go with me and has not expected anything in return for doing so, so no lost income for him; B: There's no possibility he would lose the amount of income necessary to buy an RV in the span of three months, even if we bought it used; C: I would be footing the bill for his entire trip. Rent, electricity, food, gas, internet, literally everything out of my own pocket. It would be an all expense paid vacation for him, other than babysitting my daughter; D: I know that my father's dream is to live out his retirement in an RV. He's told me so. And E, most importantly, he is in no way entitled to any of the money i raise for the surgery, even if he helps me with the fundraising. That money will serve a purpose, and that purpose is not buying him a retirement.

When I told him point blank I felt like he was using my surgery money to fund his retirement, he got angry and told me, "everyone thinks parents are just supposed to give and give and get nothing in return. Nobody ever thinks about how this affects me. Why shouldn't I get something in return if I'm giving up three months of my life and income to go with you?"

15 years ago, this would have made me feel guilty, because I was so used to being manipulated into believing that I was an ungrateful child who was never appreciative of the things he did for me, and I would have given him what he wanted. But now that I’m older, have been in therapy, have a child myself, and remember my mother’s example of love and support, I can see how toxic and abusive this is. Can you imagine trying to con your disabled daughter, who is poor and a single mother, into buying you an expensive vehicle for your retirement? With transplant money? The idea of asking your child to buy you a vehicle after you abandoned her for ten years and gave her no emotional support even when you did return is already disgusting, but the thought of asking her to buy it from life-changing surgery money is just despicable. This is not something I would ask of anyone, let alone my own child.

I want to be a parent like my mom was. She wasn’t perfect, and she made her mistakes, but she was there. Always, in every situation. She never left me, she never let me experience suffering alone, and I never had reason to doubt she loved me. I want to be that to my child. And if my dad did anything for me, it’s teaching what not to do to my children. The idea of alienating my child to the point that she resent and distrust me is something that terrifies me. I don’t ever want to be like him. I want to be like her.

[illusionsofdreaming]

hey, it's owhda. how have you been? it's a little bit sad to see no updates on tumblr from you(I mean any, even just a talk) but that just mean there's something else going on in your life and I sincerely hope it's something good. I didn't really know you much but I really thought that you could be a good friend to have. So.. could we get a glimpse into your life? How's your work? What are you interested in right now?

Hello, hello! It's so nice to see some familiar faces still hanging around this dusty blog! I've missed interacting with you both and Tumblr in general, it's very humbling to know people are reminded of me from time to time. I guess now is as good a time as any to post a little update on what's been going on in my life, how that's affected my writing and what I've got planned for the blog in the coming future. For those who wish to skip the chatter, tldr; I'm hanging on, this will blog will remain online and I do have plans to continue writing.

Let’s see… where do I even begin? Shortly after May, I’ve received an exciting notice - I was promoted! It’s a goal I’ve been working on for some time so it was quite satisfying to hear the news. Since then it’s been a whirlwind of activities - trying to juggle my new responsibilities and manage my own team took some time getting used to. I’ve worked solo for so long it was difficult to be the ‘leader’. In fact - I still am uncomfortable being one, but I’m starting to get the grasp of it.

I’ve been traveling for work as well and in these few months have been to Japan and UK. Both trips where I fell severely ill because my weak body can’t cross countries without making complaints and making me feel my age. Oh. And I finally got Covid in November which really laid me low for at least 2 weeks. 

I realise my health’s been taking a hit lately. Perhaps its the stress of having more work on my plate and being in a new position but I’ve been getting sick more easily. I’m currently recovering from a throat infection that I got from my UK trip as I write this - so fun times.

So yeah.. it’s been a lot of paperwork, electronic work, a lot of self reflection and remoulding of myself to my real life that really put writing on the back burner. I always wrote at night after work but nowadays I don’t even have the energy for that. If I’m not dead asleep by the time I’m done with work then some infection, flu or cold will get me. 

…and the longer I don’t touch my writing the less I wish to open my WIPs because I have a silly, irrational fear that I no longer write the same way I use to - either I’ve deteriorated or my style’s changed. It’s silly. 

Good news is that, I think I’ve finally found my pace, my new position is no longer ‘new’ but the norm and I’m slowly finding ways to carve out my own personal time in my new schedule. Which is why I’ve decided to tackle this issue today. To be honest, it’s been a while since I wrote anything fictional, but I’m planning on slowly working through the writing blocks that have built up due to my neglect. I’ve bought 2 new books during my trip in UK so that’s a step in the right direction right?

As some of my older followers would know and recognise by now, I do tend to go through highs and lows when it comes to activity on this blog. It often reflects what’s going on in my personal life haha. But lately, the creative bug that has been out of energy seemed to have been slightly rejuvenated - my habits of hyperfixating on creative mediums is rearing its head again so I know it’ll only be a matter of time before I’m itching to write again. 

About what..? TCF is still on my mind but not as much as before since it’s been some time since I last read its chapters. Lately I’ve been reading Absolute Sword Sense and am keeping up with its chapters so far. I’ve yet to get the newest Fire Emblem game and have been doing great avoiding any and all spoilers so far - but I’m pretty sure it’ll be going on my list of series I’ll write for in the future.

My health issues are to be tackled another day because I’m frankly, quite tired of taking meds. 

As for where I wish to take the blog… hmm.. that’s really a tough decision because I’ve never really had a clear goal in mind when it comes to this blog. It was just a great space to share my thoughts on fandoms and interact with likeminded people. I don’t think I’ll be opening requests for a while since I’ve got a huge backlog of WIPs to work on. I suppose I could attempt to keep the blog less.. dead? Not sure how I’ll go about it though.

Anyways.. that’s about it. Terribly sorry for the word vomit, I hope everyone's been doing well and enjoying your life! If it seems I'm a bit dead without updates, it's usually because there aren't any chatter related inboxes haha. So is this illu's call for random stories to be dropped in their mail? Yes.

[lucysweatslove]

10.29.2023 // I still don’t have a word for it.

Reality: I still don’t feel like my body is mine, and I don’t have a word for it. It isn’t quite depersonalization, as I don’t feel outside of my body. And it’s not gender specific so it’s not gender dysphoria either. It’s not body dysmorphia, because I know exactly what my body looks like, and that’s part of the problem- I understand how I look, it just doesn’t “feel” like me. But the second part of the problem is that I don’t think there is any way I can create congruency.

I get this feeling every so often. Usually it’s pretty fleeting, maybe a few hours of intense and distressing disconnect, then I sleep, and I just kind of move on. This time it’s just a little different- I don’t feel significantly distressed like usual, but I can’t move on from it. Every time I see my face or body, I KNOW it’s me and can feel physical sensations and emotions from my body. But

Maybe this is just the reality of getting older since I’m almost 30, though I also think a lot of it has to do with recovering on my own through this time as well. Like, maybe I disconnected from my own body a little to make recovery easier/less emotionally taxing because I didn’t have help navigating the emotional toll of a body that went from sick but socially acceptable to healthy but socially unacceptable. When I eventually got to a position where I could appreciate health in an “unacceptable” body, my health deteriorated and my body became even more “unacceptable.”

And now I’m in an aging body that is both socially unacceptable in appearance AND physically falling apart, I’m once again not sure how to accept it. I think part of this too is grief. Just thinking about the last 4 years of my life, when my health started falling apart to now- I’ve done a lot but haven’t really accomplished anything.

Nobody tells you how fast 4 years go by when you’re mid-20s. You wake up one day thinking you have time to figure your life out. You do some hard work to be okay with the fact that your life isn’t working out the way you planned, that it’s okay to be set back a little, and you’re dedicated to doing what is needed to get where you want to be… but then you blink, you’re almost 30. You may have successfully done a lot, which deserves celebration, but you aren’t caught up because time moved the same for you as it did the fresh faced 20 year old.

I AM proud of myself for navigating life the last several years. Recovery was hard on its own, but I also got a master’s degree, got married, adopted a pug, supported my husband through TWO hip replacement surgeries, applied to medical school, got into medical school, and have already navigated a couple blocks. It just took me a lot longer to navigate all of these things than I thought it would.

I think I’ve always felt like I’ve been playing catch up in some way. Sometimes I wonder if this is a common autistic or “twice exceptional” experience or if it’s just… something a good proportion of the world experiences… or maybe it’s just something those who have experienced severe mental illness experience idk.

I don’t really know what is going to help me feel reconnected. My instinct of course is what I always do- major diet and restrict, try to drop as much weight as rapidly as possible. Sometimes I think, if I were back to X size, I’d like the way clothes fit again, but I know that another huge part is that I do NOT feel like me at all in the kinds of clothing I’m expected to dress in- though I also know that the clothes I like are more “socially acceptable” on smaller bodies. Seriously, I see the clothes my peers wear and look amazing and professional in, but I know if I were to try the same outfit it just wouldn’t look right on my body. Every time I try to wear clothes that feel like me, I feel like I look wrong in them, even if the clothes fit.

Normal people can probably just go on a diet for a little bit, lose some weight, bounce back into their bodies (thought efficacy of keeping that weight off may be variable). I, however, have to worry about going back to my own personal hell every time I so much as consider how many grams are in my breakfast banana.

So anyway, no actual resolution. I’m stuck in this meat sack wired to interact with the world via electrolytes (sodium, calcium, potassium, chloride) and neurotransmitters. Attempting to change it could be Very Bad for me. Attempting to be “health minded” could also just be thinly veiled attempts to change the meat sack, which again, could be Very Bad. Soooo idk.

I guess next week’s therapy session will be interesting and worth the $25 copay.

[seriouslysam8]

Do you like it, when People read your old stories and leave Reviews/Comments on them? Or kudos? Does it make your day or do you ignore it, because the story is quite old? Do you answer Reviews of old stories?🥰

Kudos never really do it for me. Even on my currently posting story. I never pay attention to kudos. I think that’s partly because I’m old and grew up with ff.net and then I think it’s partly because it tells me nothing. Someone could have left kudos and then never came back or dropped the story or whatever. It’s just there. But I do appreciate them because I know some people won’t read stories with low kudos count or whatever which is crazy to me.

I do appreciate reviews on old stories because if someone reviews an old story than they REALLY loved it. Although, I had one person going through a lot of old stories of mine and leaving bad reviews which peeved me. If you don’t have anything nice to say, then don’t say anything at all, you know? But I genuinely enjoy getting reviews from old stories and it’s like this big nostalgia for me. If it’s a one shot, sometimes I go back and reread the story when I get a review for it.

Now, I do not respond to reviews on old stories or even if people are catching up with my current story and they review previous chapters. Simply because responding to reviews takes a long time. I need my writing time. Besides I kind of forget what the story is about or what’s happening in that chapter. Like someone reviewed a previous Brumous chapter as they were catching up and said they loved the Friends reference. I had no idea what Friends reference I made in that chapter. Probably something with Ron because Ron gets a lot of Friends references attached to him. But if I were to respond properly to that review, I’d have to go back and figure out what reference I made. If I keep doing that, I’ll have no time to write.

So while I really appreciate the reviews for old stories or older chapters as you read to catch up, I do not respond.

But comments do make my day in general. Old or new. I’m not lying to you guys when I say they motivate me and keep me posting weekly. Those that were around for MIT saw the deterioration of my posting schedule when I was just upset from all the negativity surrounding Legerdemain. I never quite got over it even after I finished the damn thing.

I’ll also tell you what. I had sat on Bête Noire for so fucking long. That Alphard chapter was like 2/3s completed for awhile. And someone sent me an ask about that story. It was such an amazing ask that it kicked my ass into gear and I think 2 weeks later the new chapter was up. Because that one ask made me want to write to that story.

[palettepainter]

Bad Habits

Warning: mentions of smoking

Please note I do not have clear knowledge in how addictions work, this was just an idea I thought was good enough to explore between Chikara and Cementoss. 

This happens BEFORE Chikara and Cementoss are offically together, that’s obvious towards the end of the story but wanted to clarify this at the start to avoid confusion. Also it’s late as of posting this so sorry for any spelling errors I might have missed while proof reading

(My Ectoloader slightly spicy fic is still in the works, so in the meantime have this Chiktoss story to supply you with some MHA content! 

All the Higari children have smoked at some point: Higari smoked once when he was in UA mostly due to peer pressure and hasn’t touched one since, next to him Taiho smokes the least. Chikara and Suru smoke occasionally when work gets stressful and Hono smokes to take his mind of things. Kaigo - their dad - used to be a heavy smoker before he married which was a large contributer to his deteriorating health so Magakure doesn’t like smoking in the house)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This space free?”

Cementoss hummed and turned his head up, he hadn’t heard anyone approaching until the owner of the voice was only a few feet away. Inside the teachers dorms Higari and rest of his siblings had come down to visit, they would be leaving soon for some kind of outing (Cementoss didn’t know what exactly). But he had excused himself earlier for some peace and quite outside, he wasn’t used to the teachers dorms being so noisy, and he’d always preferred the tranquil moments.

Standing outside the doors to the teachers dorms was one of Higari’s many siblings - the red haired and, to his knowledge, older sister of the two he had

“Sure”

She smiled with a nod and took a seat on the steps outside of the teachers dorms while Cementoss turned his attention back to what had been occupying him moments ago.

It was funny how someone with such large, rough hands could be such a gentle gardener.

He remembered Midnight had laughed when she first found out about his hobby, in good humour apparently, as the next day she’d ask Cementoss if he’d help her restore a rose bush back to health. He hadn’t even known about the rose bush until Midnight had shown it too him just to the right of the building.

Cementoss’s hands gently moulded the soil around the new plant, taking great care to make sure he didn’t break the green steam already sprouting up to the sky-

He stopped all of a sudden when a strong smell hit his nose, if he was in the city, it wouldn’t have bothered him as much. But to smell smoke in an area largely made up of trees: didn’t exactly reassure him

He turned his head - the women behind him exhaled a slow drag of smoke, head leaning back as she watched the cloud of smoke disappear above her. She brought the cigarette back to her lips and Cementoss watched as the end glowed brighter as she inhaled

“...You want one?” She asked, easily blowing the smoke through her nostrils before producing a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and shaking them in Cementoss’s direction.

“Uh-“ Cementoss politely shook his hand “No, I don’t smoke”

She shrugged “Aight” she returned the packet to her pocket. Reaching for the cigarette she pinched it between two fingers and tapped the ash from the end away, Cementoss watched it fall into a small pile on the step

“I thought Higari and the rest of your family didn’t approve of smoking?” He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, he had just happened to walk onto the ground floor and past them at the time in which that topic had come into their conversation, and they happened to be talking loud enough for him to hear. He also could have sworn Higari had strong opinions on it too.

The stranger hummed “..Uh, yeah I guess you could say that” They said casually. Cementoss wasn’t sure, but he was certain there was a hint of hesitance, as thought they were shy to admit he was right

Cementoss hummed, eyeing the cigarette in her hand “..You know smoking is bad for you right?”

They paused mid reach to return their cigarette to their lips, she looked to Cementoss who stared back calmly.

The silence was broken when she snickered, leaning forward to rest an arm on her knee

“Hah..getting lectured by a hero” she brought the cigarette to her lips, taking her time to inhale, her body relaxed as she blew out another slow cloud of smoke “Yeah, I know..” she admitted “..We all know” she added as an afterthought

We??

“I didn’t know Higari smoked”

The women let out another snicker, louder this time “Higari?” She repeated, shaking her head “Nah, I mean, not since his third year apparently. He’s not touched one since”

Oh, well this was new information he was hearing

“Then, do your other siblings smoke?” Cementoss wasn’t sure what can of worms he was cracking open, or if he should tell Higari any of this, if he knew at all that his siblings smoked. However the women occupying the steps looked like she was already thinking of her answer, fingers tapping on the step. She was quite, eyes on the floor, debating “...Sometimes” she finally answered

Cementoss tilted his head with an obvious question in his eyes

Her half lidded eyes were trained on the cigarette as though she was in a trance, or maybe it was easier to look at that then make eye contact with her company. But she’d go with the trance bit.

“Sometimes we need to take the edge off, let’s go with that”

Cementoss was no expert, he certainly had no personal experience with cigarettes. But he’d been a hero for a while, and had been in a handful of cases back in his early years concerning addiction. And the reason ‘to take the edge off’ didn’t spawn a sense a ease.

Cementoss’s brows narrowed by an inch

“There are other things you can do to help with that” he said gently, not wanting to fan a flame, or start one “..More healthier ways” he added while eyeing the thin tower of smoke rising from the cigarette.

She rolled the cigarette between her teeth and leaned back, eyes skyward - then, smoke poured from a parting between her lips. She pulled the cigarette away, tapped the ash off the glowing end, then continued to hold it “Yeah, I know” she said, almost robotically, as though reading off a script

“I hear it all the time from Ma”

“I assume she’s against it then?”

“Very” Her eyes widened as she emphasised the word. She could remember the first time her mother caught her smoking, vividly:

It’d been around three months since she took over the car workshop and business had been falling behind, they where scrapping by bills and shopping by the skin of their teeth, but just barely. She’d stolen one of Hono’s packets - he kept a secret box of em under the floorboards in his room, but they all knew about it - she remembered she struggled to light the stupid thing, Hono only had one lighter which he always kept on his person so she had to use matches.

When she finally lit the thing she’d made the mistake of smoking too close to the house, which had been her undoing when her mother rounded the back of the house to call her in for dinner

“I was on house arrest for three days and had to do the dishes for the rest of the week” The punishment hadn’t been the issue, it was the way her mother had snapped at her that had stuck, and that awkward, tense silence that followed between them days later.

Stubbornness ran in their blood, as did a furious temper, Chikara was no saint and had her fair share of grown up tantrums so to speak. Her mother, though possessing as much bark, always had this steady, calm, authoritative presence along with her anger. The type of anger that could be conveyed with a single, sharp glare and shut down an argument at dinner before it even started.

Her mother had yelled at her plenty of times sure, her and her siblings drove her up the walls plenty as kids (sometimes as adults too): Like that time she’d forgotten about the running bath upstairs when she was 10 while her mother was outside gardening and the bathroom flooded the hallway and stairwell. Her mother had a very passionate reaction to that mess.

Or that time as a teenager when she had taken her mother’s credit card to buy herself some sweets - in her defence her mother said she was gonna buy em anyway, so she figured it technically didn’t count as stealing - her mother had not been happy.

And that time she’d crashed her first ever car into a ditch at 18 while taking a short cut, even after her mother warned her about that particular road. She’d nearly broken an arm, her mother didn’t let her touch a steering wheel until the car she crashed had been repaired.

And yet all those scolding's where nothing, compared to how angry her mother had been when she caught her smoking.

“And your other siblings?” Cementoss asked, remembering how she had said we earlier “Does your mother know that they smoke too?”

Thinking a moment she leaned her head back with a hum “Knowing her, probably”

“And Higari?”

Chikara looked as if she’d seen a ghost “No! God no” she rolled her eyes with a groan, clearly Cementoss had unintentionally stepped on a sour spot - if the evident annoyance in her tone and expression meant anything that is. “Higari did mention he disapproved of smoking one time, I didn’t know the dislike was a family thing”

“It’s not--“ She started, then stopped. It looked like she was going to say something, but dropped it and changed her mind at the last minute. “If he knew, I’d never hear the end of it.” She frowned “EVER” Another pause, then her eyes widened, and she snapped her gaze towards Cementoss, so quickly it almost made him jump

“You’re not gonna tell him right?”

There was clear suspicion in her tone as her eyes narrowed at him, from her position up on the steps she was only just able to look down at him, if Cementoss had been standing she would have had to crane her neck just to make eye contact. Cementoss quickly held up his hands to appear and shook his head “It wouldn’t be my place to say”

She scowled at him for three more seconds, before looking away, her scowl - though not focused on him and not as extreme as a few seconds ago - now looked down at her feet as if they where more interesting then the point she had left off on

“Higari can just be a little..” she did a motion with her hand as if struggling to find the words

Cementoss titled his head “Protective?..”

A smile passed over her face “I was gonna go with something like smothering, over bearing, a worry wort..maybe I’ll call him mothering if I’m feeling generous” she had begun to count on the fingers of her spare hand, before she lowered it to rest back down on the step “But, yeah, over protective. That sums it up”

Cementoss could understand that, from a hero’s perspective. Higari was more on the side lines then the lime light when it came to the line of work, but being protective of your family when your work had you face so many threats to your well being came with the territory. The same with being an older brother, though he couldn’t speak from experience with that one

“I’m sure he doesn’t mean to be a bother, Higari is just a very straight forward person.” He knew Hatsume was one person who would confirm that for him “I’m sure his over-protectiveness comes from a place of love and care for you and the rest of his siblings”

She gave him a sideways glance, her scowl lifting ever so slightly. She looked back towards the cigarette and it’s dying trail of smoke, her fingers gripped it a little tighter.

She sighed “Yeah, I know..” she said dejectedly “It’s just..I dunno” she looked lost, her gaze distant, like she was in a different place “Ever since he came to UA things at home just got so...different?” She sounded as sure as she looked, but Cementoss said nothing, sensing she had more to say

“After the whole drama with dad and his passing, when Higari came here it...I dunno it was like, Mum felt like she was loosing someone else?” She had began to gesture with her hands, at first only slightly, now they where becoming more obvious as the emotional gates opened more and more “And then Hono fell off the tracks, Ma barely had it together, and no one knew what the hell to do with the family business!”

“Car repairs isn’t it?” Cementoss remembered Higari mentioned it in passing conversation on a separate occasion

She nodded “Those first few months getting the business sorted, putting dads stuff away in storage or chucking it to the dump, taking care of Suru it was all so...much!” She almost dropped her cigarette with how aggressively she had thrown her arms out “And Ma wasn’t in any state to be our therapist, she barely had herself together trying to adjust to everything! And our Uncle he-...He just didn’t-“ she had that face again, a face that suggested she was struggling to find the right words, Cementoss noticed how her nose scrunched up

“Well, he wasn’t as good at being an Uncle back then, he had his hands full with Hono and..well—” Chikara trailed off, breathing laboured through her nose...then she realised how much she had said, how many wounds she had just exposed to this guy.

To her brothers work colleague who she barely knew

The embarrassment exploded in her chest just as much as it did her face, wishing for the universe to have mercy upon her and have a stray meteor enter the atmosphere and obliterate her on the spot. A quick and painless death.

“God I-“ she rubbed a hand over her face, hanging her head to avoiding looking at the hero across from her. She couldn’t believe she said all that! “Sorry, that got deep for no reason..”

Cementoss had the same expression as before: calm, unbothered and - to Chikara’s despair - unreadable. “It’s no bother” She groaned, god just kill her now. Let the ground swallow her. Higari spoke very little of his parents, mostly his siblings when he was asked about his family. Higari had mentioned his mother a few times, but Cementoss had always guessed the father had never been in the picture as Higari never brought him up, and Cementoss didn’t want to be rude by asking when, really, it wasn’t his business to begin with.

Seemed as though there was more history to Higari’s family then Cementoss had originally thought

“It seems like you and your family have all gone through some hard times, finding ways to cope with that emotional and mental turmoil is human nature. I didn’t mean to make you feel ashamed by it”

Shyly, which was an emotion that looked odd on the person who presented herself as nothing but laid back and casual, his company looked up from their hand and towards him

“..You didnt..” she mumbled into her palm, just loud enough for him to hear “Honestly, I don’t even like smoking that much. I know what it does to you and I try not to do it often. There’s just..well, ain’t as much help available in the country then there is here” The end of her cigarette had gone out, but she wasn’t paying attention to it “When you live in a small town with little villain attacks you don’t get all the fancy shmancy help stuff you get in the city, best we got down there is a basic doc and vet”

A pause

“Guess that comes with being a hero, preaching about the goodness of ones health and all..”

She let out a weak laugh to try and brighten her mood, it worked as well as she hoped “...Hah, wow, this is awkward” she said, mostly to herself, before looking to Cementoss “Your school faculty members sister venting to a hero who she doesn’t even know the name of.”

Another weak laugh and a failed attempt to ease her discomfort “Least I can say my introduction is gonna make an impression”

Here did Cementoss let out a small huff of humour “You could say that, but not the worst impression..and it’s Cementoss by the way”

“Hm?” She cocked a brow

“My name is Cementoss” he repeated “If you want to get technical: Cementoss is my hero name, most of the others here refer to me by that”

She smiled - Cementoss decided he liked the look on her - “Pleasure to have you in my presence” she extended a hand towards him “Not every day someone lets you talk about your messy family problems on the first introduction”

Cementoss smiled, his hand gently clasping around hers, his giant hands practically engulfed her tiny ones. “I’m gonna go on a bet and say your quirk has something to do with cement?” Cementoss hummed, mocking thought, before he nodded “You’d be correct” Her smile widened, happy to find out she had indeed been correct “So what’s my prize?”

Cementoss blinked, letting go of her hand “Prize?”

She pointed to him “You’re a teacher right? Ain’t teachers supposed to give rewards for correct answers?” She pressed a hand to her chest, one leg resting over the other “I’d be partial to a gold star sticker if you have any”

Cementoss lifted a finger “Technically this isn’t a class and you’re not a pupil Chi”

She stuck her tongue out at him “Poo, you’re no fun—..” she blinked “What did you call me?” Her expression was a mix between confusion and surprise, maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly? Cementoss lowered his hand “I thought I heard Higari refer to you as Chi when you where talking earlier”

The women was quite, then, let out a laugh

Cementoss looked off to the side, unsure of what to do or if she was laughing at him, or more likely if she was laughing at something he had said. Had he assumed incorrectly?

“Sorry!” She waved her hand at him when she noticed how muddled he looked “I didn’t mean to laugh, it’s just that Chi is my nickname” she smiled down at him again “My actual name is Chikara”

“..Oh..” Cementoss felt his cheeks grow hot, and Chikara, smirked. He stiffened, eyes widening as she resisted the urge to giggle as she covered her mouth with the back of her hand “I-..Sorry” Cementoss mumbled “I didn’t realise..”

“Hey, no sweat” Chikara brushed him off combined with a bat of her hand, but even she couldn’t deny that a flustered Cementoss was a very entertaining thing “Out of the nicknames you coulda called me, Chi is certainly one of the ones I like the most. Like-“ she sat up on the step, moving a bit closer to him “-Higari and the rest sometimes call me stuff like snot face”

Cementoss was going to say he didn’t think the usually mind-his-own-business Higari was capable of giving someone an insulting nickname, then he remembered that one time the teachers had started a swear jar and Higari had it full by the end of the second week.

So, yeah, that did sound like something he would do

“I call him short stack”

Curse him: he let out a snicker. Higari was rather small

“Appropriate” he replied “...You know, the first time I met Higari I accidentally mistook him for a student”

“What!” Chikara’s grin grew impossibly wider “Haha! No way! God-“ she shook her head, the very image of that scenario pure gold! “-I wish I coulda been there to see that!” She whirled her head back to him, curiosity lacing every word “What did he do?”

“Not much” Cementoss replied honestly “He told me it was fine after I apologised-“ profusely apologised “-and we both went on with our day”

Chikara’s smile fell into a pout “Boring” she crossed her arms over her chest “You could have exaggerated the story a lil’ bit greenie”

“...Greenie?” Cementoss echoed back quietly

As if it was obvious, Chikara pointed down to the small patch of the flower bed Cementoss had previously been tending to before she had appeared. Cementoss followed her pointed finger “You’re a gardener, gardeners have green thumbs: Greenie” she explained, one side of her lip curled up in a half smile

The last time someone gave Cementoss a nickname must have been in his second year during school.

“You could always call me by my actual name” he suggested, not apposed to the nickname, it just wasn’t something he was used too.

“Your hero name? Or your real name?”

“Cementoss. Or Ken - my real name”  

“Ken..” Chikara repeated, testing how the name sounded. She hummed, looking skyward. She repeated his name again and her eyes squinted in thought “...Nah” she shrugged “My nicknames better Greenie” Cementoss rolled his eyes, guess Greenie was something he was going to have to get used too. Though it wasn’t the worst thing he had been called since high school - he’d been given plenty of names then, names which he preferred to not think back on

“You plant a lot?” Chikara asked, looking down to the freshly tended piece of flower bed Cementoss was sitting besides

Cementoss looked to the sapling he had just planted, then to the other three he had done earlier that day “Sometimes, when I have time between classes” truly work at UA and hero work didn’t leave him a great deal of free time for himself, but he managed with what little he had. “UA doesn’t have a proper garden, so I tend to the plants in and around the teachers dorms. It gives me something to do”

“You know, Higari used to be a bit of a plant nutt before he came to UA. According to Tai, he used to name them”

“Tai is one of your other brothers?” Cementoss asked

“My twin” Chikara answered

“Naming plants sounds like Higari” Cementoss finished patting down the soil around the freshly planted saplings, then stood. Brushing the dirt off from his knees he turned towards the steps of the teachers dorms, Chikara was now having to crane her neck slightly to make eye contact with him “...I believe Ectoplasm mentioned he caught Higari talking to their houseplants one time”

Cementoss couldn’t help but peak an eye open at her to catch her reaction: which was her leaping to her feet faster then a jack rabbit with her eyes as wide as plates “Seriously!” She cheered, barely containing her laughter, before bolting back into the dorms. Cementoss went to follow, before Chikara’s head suddenly stuck back out “You comin’ with?”

Cementoss blinked “Do you want me to?”

“Sure” Chikara said “...I also want to ensure I have the protection of a hero incase Higari tries to kill me, which he probably will” Chikara stuffed the now dead cigarette bud into her pocket, she’d find a bin for a later, before practically skipping back into the building

“Keep up Greenie!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chikara stared down at the quaint little flower pot and the teenie little sprout poking up from the soil. It looked relatively new, probably just planted a few days ago - maybe even today

She titled her head “A..plant?” She asked

Cementoss nodded “Yes”

“...Why?” Chikara asked, looking up to him - literally - she underestimated how tall he would be standing. It’s not like she was ungrateful for any gifts, but she hadn’t been expecting a plant when she and the rest of her siblings where about to leave. Her or the rest of her siblings had brought any gifts when they came down - none that she knew of anyway - so this was certainly a surprise 

“Is this to do with the nickname I gave you? You tryna get back at me somehow?”

“It’s nothing to do with that” Cementoss shook his head as he cleared her suspicions on that note “I remember yesterday how..” Cementoss looked around, checking no one else was around, before continuing “You said you didn’t like smoking, I thought perhaps a plant might help”

Chikara blinked, looked at the plant, then Cementoss, then back again “You..want me to try gardening instead of smoking?”

Cementoss nodded

Chikara blinked, then, looked back down to the plant: just a plain old plant pot. The tiny green stalk just barely breaching the top of the soil, which was still damp from its morning watering. Chikara realised that Cementoss was probably waiting for her to take it, so she slowly raised her hands till they came to grasp the plant pot.

“What kind of plant is it?” She asked while turning the pot carefully in her hands as if searching for some kind of label. Cementoss shrugged and - though Chikara could only guess with that oddly shaped mouth of his - smiled “I can’t quite recall” Chikara rose a brow up at him “Must have slipped my mind - you’ll have to tell me when it grows”

Chikara blinked again and was quite for a few seconds, before rolling her eyes and huffing “Oh, I see” she moved the pot to her side, holding it in her right hand as she pointed to him with her left “You’re not gonna tell me so that I’ll have to take care of it to find out” sneaky, she thought in the back of her head, and pretty clever - respect

“Perhaps” Cementoss said with an innocent shrug “It would be nice to know what it grows into, as a fan of gardening myself of course”

“Hm” Chikara’s lip quirked into a smile, one brow cocked “Right” she said with a slow nod

“...Wait-“ Chikiara’s smile fell, so suddenly that Cementoss grew worried for a second, before she asked “How am I supposed to tell you what it grows into if I don’t have any way to contact you?”

Ah..he hadn’t thought of that

The UA dorms had a phone on the ground floor that was mostly used to talk with parents or other staff in the building, incase of emergencies, thankfully they hadn’t yet used it for the latter reason - in any case giving her the number for that phone probably wasn’t allowed, since it was meant to be a phone strictly for the staff and used only for work related purposes. Cementoss did have a phone, but with his fat fingers typing a number was beyond the realm of possibility - his phone often had to be opened and used with voice recognition - but that aside he gave out his number so rarely he honestly couldn’t remember it off the top of his head.

He hummed

“Well, you could give me your number” He said without really thinking. Then his brain kicked in and he realised what he asked  

Chikara blinked wide eyes up at him as Cementoss’s cheeks got hot

“I-“ he waved a hand apologetically “Of course you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable! I’d understand. I can always ask Higari to keep me updated-“

Chikara dug around in her pocket and produced a marker “You got some paper?” She asked

Cementoss blinked at her...then quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small notebook. With Chikara holding the plant in one hand he offered to hold the notebook for her as Chikara scrawled her number down onto the page “Ya know, it’s often traditional for a gentleman to wine and dine a lady before askin’ for her number” Chikara teased, offering him a smirk and a honest to god wink as she pulled the marker away “But, just this once, I’ll let it slide~”

Cementoss’s face felt hotter, and he prayed it wasn’t obvious. Chikara’s smirk got wider, oh, it was obvious wasn’t it?

“I-“ Cementoss cleared his throat, pulling the notebook shyly to his chest “Thank you..”

“No problem” Chikara turned to walk towards the doors of UA teachers dorms where the rest of her siblings where waiting - looked like Taiho was trying to split up a quarrel between Higari and Hono, shocker. “See ya round!” She said over her shoulder, waving a little before trotting to catch up with her family outside

Cementoss watched from the hallway as Chikara approached Higari from behind and smacked his hair into his face, prompting Higari to say something at her that made her chuckle.

Looking down at his notebook, Cementoss stared down at the line of digits written in marker. When was the last time he’d asked for a women’s number? Anyone’s number period! After reading the line of numbers over three times, his eyes where suddenly drawn to a small note scribbled in the bottom right hand corner of the page. The writing was a bit messy, obviously written quickly, so he had to bring it closer to his face to read it clearly

‘How bold of you Greenie, Chikara xxx’

His face got hotter again