#thinking about all the specific ass instructions our cat situation needs :')

[n3ongold3n]

Survived the meeting with my profs despite having done nothing of any value with the manuscript (despite spending so much fucking time and - more importantly - sanity and nerves - on it). They were even nice and understanding 😭 They do make my writing process hell but at least they are never mean about it. It's just a very bad match between how we work :')

[ashbrea381writings]

Flying Blind: Chapter 1, Bats in Paris

Four-year-old Richard Grayson glared at the girl in front of him. Marinette Dupain-Cheng was just six weeks older than him, and right now, she was taller than him too. “You’re gonna lose.” He taunted in heavily accented French, “I got super high scores and you can’t beat them!” “Don’t even think about it! I’m gonna win!” Marinette’s fists were clenched and her face red. “Just you watch!” The Dupain-Chengs and the Graysons shared an amused look over the heads of the children. “How are you doing?” Tom asked, chuckling about the children’s antics. “We’re good, we’ll be starting another tour this summer, then probably settle down for a couple years before moving on.” The two children started shouting even louder, causing them to be dragged apart by their exasperated parents. This happened every competition, for years.

***

Five years later, Richard stopped showing up to competitions. Marinette was annoyed at first, grumbling about him being a chicken who didn’t want to face her. At another competition, a month later, she heard one of the judges talking about the Graysons, making a sad comment about the loss of so many talented people, the wasted potential, an entire family of fliers just gone. Marinette stiffened in shock, her eyes wide as she processed what they had just said. Bolting to the locker room, Marinette yanked her hair out of it’s bun and changed back into her street clothes, hiding in the bathroom stall and crying. When her parents find her some minutes later, they make sure she isn’t hurt and take her home. “He’s dead… Dick’s dead.” She told them tearfully in the car on the way home. “All of them are.” Marinette stopped going to competitions after that.

***

Ladybug could feel the tension in her shoulders as she confronted the man before her, Chat a step behind and to her left. “If your Justice League doesn’t want to help, you could at least stay out of our city.” Her arms were crossed as she glared at Batman. “Why do you think the League wouldn’t help?” Robin asked, his accent strong but his pronunciation carefully precise. “We only heard of the situation recently.” “Oh? I called the League two years ago when our mentor gave up his memories to prevent Hawkmoth from getting something important.” Ladybug spat, letting her disgust show without letting it be bad enough that Hawkmoth could sense it. “I got told to stop playing games and they hung up on me.” “Who did you speak with?” Batman asked, pulling out a small tablet to take notes. “I don’t know, they didn’t say. Male, light voice in the baritone range, sounded way too cheerful until he decided I was lying, then he was just an ass.” She shrugged and gestured to the city around her. “‘Paris is fine, we would have noticed if something bad happened.’” She quoted in a near-perfect impression of Hal Jordan that made Batman frown. “Did you mean to do an impression?” Robin asked, somewhere between surprised and trying not to laugh when the girl his age was able to deepen her voice that much. “It’s accurate, I was there to hear him.” Chat chuckled, crossing his arms and shifting to lean on just one leg. “The guy continued to rant about children making prank calls and how he didn’t even know how we had the number.” “The fact that we had it at all should have told him the truth.” Ladybug scoffed. “Look, I’ve been doing this for four years. If you really wanna help, you’ll need to make sure you don’t fall victim to Hawkmoth yourself.” “And how does one do that?” “Mostly by repressing your negative emotions.” Chat shrugged, looking out over the city. “To be honest, it’s getting harder for Parisians to keep up their hopes. Our ages don’t help either, there are plenty who keep demanding we give up our Miraculi to older, more experienced people, but not just anyone can wield them.” “The personalities of the people wielding them must mesh well with the Miraculous, or it corrupts you and either causes you to become someone you wouldn’t recognize, or makes you very sick.” “That explains why you can’t pass them on, but why were you two chosen?” Robin tilted his head, moving forward a bit more. “We were the best candidates at the time. Our former mentor read our auras to make sure who meshed with which Miraculous and gave us a test to make sure we were the type of people to help others even when it’s not in our best interests.” Ladybug sighed and turned to look as a loud ‘bang!’ sounded from the direction of the Eiffel Tower. “Always the tower, I still don’t get it.” Chat sighed, prepping to take off. “Don’t ask me, Kitty.” Ladybug grabbed her yo-yo. “Stay back out of the fight unless you see a civilian in danger. You don’t know what you’re up against.” Batman looked like he wanted to argue, but the teen heroes took off in the direction of the Akuma that was currently pulling pieces off of the Tower and throwing them at the ground nearby. Batman and Robin found a spot just outside the action to observe. Other members of the Miraculous Team were already on the scene, moving civilians and calling out information to each other. Viperion split off from the action to intercept Ladybug and seemed to have a lot of information. Once they conferred for a few moments, a suddenly weary-looking Viperion gave signals to several of the team members. The Akuma was released, captured, and purified. With the Cure cast, the Tower was repaired and the Miraculous Team collectively shared quiet celebrations before separating except for Chat Noir, who’s Cataclysm hadn’t been used. “LB and the others are going to recharge, check in with their families after the attack, and meet us. I’m to lead you to somewhere private where we can talk more thoroughly.” Chat was brisk, seeming tired. “Your Snake friend… He spent a good portion of the fight observing and only really called out instructions for the most part. Why is that?” Robin asked as they started running across rooftops. “That’s his part. Ladybug is Creation, I’m Destruction, he’s Intuition. He watches the fight and uses his ability to make sure we do not fail when we cannot avoid it otherwise.” Chat answered vaguely, enjoying the verbal cat-and-mouse. “Are you going to tell us what his power is?” Batman asked, his exasperation audible in his voice. “The more information we have, the better we can plan and the more help we can give.” “I’m gonna let Viperion explain, he’s a chill guy, he won’t mind telling you. Besides, they’re all gonna be there and I think LB plans to give you two a rundown of everyone anyway.” Chat explained, dropping down into a small garden hidden between buildings. There was a small storage shed that Chat opened, removing a handful of chairs and a folding table. “I believe LB plans on bringing refreshments, will you help me set this up?”

***

An hour later, the rest of the team had assembled, with more than just Ladybug bringing snacks and drinks. There was something for everyone, although Batman chose not to eat. “So, a rundown?” “My powers stem from Creation, I create an object that helps us in the fight, purify the Akuma, and my Cure repairs any damage done by the miraculous during that specific Akuma fight. If too much time passes after the Akuma was purified, I can’t put it right.” Ladybug began, pointing to Chat next. “His power is from Destruction, he can destroy any one item he touches or a portion of a surface such as the ground or a wall. He can control how far the destruction spreads to a degree, it’s something we’re working on. Viperion has the power of Second Chance, he sets a timer and within that span of time he can reset to the beginning as many times as he wants theoretically. The problem is that he’s the only one who remembers what happened in the timeline he reset, so he has to be able to remember what to do so we can succeed.” “Is that why you suddenly looked more tired during the fight?” Robin asked, brows furrowing. “Yes. Seeing your friends get hurt over and over will do that.” The shaggy-haired hero sighed, shaking his head. “As much as I dislike seeing it, I know that I can prevent it as long as I still have my power active and as long as I’m able to give them the right information when we reset. I’ve gotten a lot better than when we started, but it helped when Chat started to realize I knew what I was doing.” His eyes sparkled with a bit of humor and Chat shook his head with a goan. “You’re never going to let me forget that, are you?” Chat asked, stretching. “Nope, never.” “Anyway.” Ladybug glared at the two boys, but it lacked conviction. “You’ll have to give me the rundown later of how many times we reset. Moving on, Rena Rouge, power of Illusion. Carapace, Protection, his shields are nearly impenetrable.” Ladybug pointed out each hero in turn. “Honey Bee, she can paralyze a person with her stinger, most of these have a duration and are usable just once for now. Pegasus can make portals to anywhere, again, once and there’s a time limit after using it. King Monkey isn’t here right now, but his power disrupts those of whomever is touched with an object he summons. We have one more teammate who doesn’t get involved often. Their name is Bunnyx, and they don’t show up much unless we really need them. They travel through time.” “So you have a time-traveler to come pull you out? Then why don’t they tell you who Hawkmoth is?” Batman demanded. “Because one: that’s cheating, and two: that’s not how they’re supposed to figure it out.” Came another voice from above before a blue, white, and pink blur dropped down behind Ladybug.

***

Note: The competition is for Gymnastics if anyone’s confused.

[shinsorokiri]

UA Idol | Chapter One

Hitoshi Shinsou x Reader

Word Count: 2,058

Warnings: Language, big anxiety

A/N: So here’s chapter one! This is the first My Hero fic I’ve ever written and published, so I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it! Now, there’s gonna be a lot of chapters. I’m not sure how many yet, but it will be updated every week, so every Saturday (where I live) is when I will upload! There will also be a tag list, so let me know if you would like to be on it. I have a lot of ideas for this, and I hope I’m able to translate them through writing. Anyways, please enjoy!

UA Idol Masterlist

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You anxiously picked at the number stickered onto your thigh. “Mina, I really don’t think I should be here, this is a lot,” you mumble, motioning your head to the camera crew in front of you setting up. “Oh shush, (Y/n/n). The only reason they’re interviewing us is because we’re cute and are friends and they’re hoping one of us will get through while the other doesn’t and there will be drama, and we both know that if that happens there will only be support. Although I think we’ll both get through. You especially.” You snort at her enthusiasm and shake your head. “Definitely not, but okay. Whatever you say.”

“Okay! Give us your name and where you two are from and if you have any specific reason you’re here.”

“Well, I’m Mina and I’m from Tokyo, and this is (Y/n) and she’s from (hometown). We’re actually roommates and best friends, not to brag, but I’m really here to support her! She’s amazing!”

“Literally shut up, Mina you’re better than me,” you mumble, rolling your eyes at your enthusiastic best friend. “I most definitely am not! Besides, this is a great fuck you to your ex. You know the one who told you that you would never be able to become a singer and shit on you every opportunity he got.”

“Yeah. Thank you for bringing him up.”

“Yes! Thank you for bringing him up! Could you talk about him a little more? If that’s okay?”

You stare at the producer and sigh. “Yeah. Sure, whatever. I had a boyfriend a while back who didn’t support me in my artsy ways. Since he was older, he would always make sure I knew that he thought it was a childish hobby, and that I should grow up and do something that I would actually be able to survive on. He kind of ruined my love for music, but after he broke up with me, I got it back since it was how I coped with it.”

“So, you’re here to get back at him? Show him what you’re made of?”

“Well, no... but that would be pretty dope, not gonna lie, he can go fuck himself,” you say, with a small smirk on your face. After a few more questions about your ex-boyfriend and yours and Mina’s crippling student debt, the producers wander off to someone else. “They are totally using your story for television,” Mina says, and you scoff. “They only use stories for people who they want the audience to vote for, I know how these shows work,” you say, glancing around and having your eyes land on the next poor soul the producers trapped. Looked like it was a very sleepy purple haired e-boy. Damn. He’d for sure make it through if this competition was based off of looks alone. How the hell were you supposed to compete with people who looked like that. “I don’t think I should be here, Mina,” you mumble, tearing your eyes away from him. Unbeknownst to you your gaze was replaced by his as his quick little interview ended. “What? (Y/n), stop with that! What were you just looking at that made you even think that?” Mina asks, frantically searching around. “Well the producers were-”

“Oh my god! Denki?! (Y/n), that’s one of the guys I was really good friends with when we were in high school, come on you have to meet him,” Mina cuts you off, literally dragging you over. “Mina?! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here?! We have phones you know,” You watch the blonde with a black streak in his hair tackle your best friend in a hug with an unamused expression. You didn’t want to meet anyone. You were tired. The anxiety of this situation kept you up all night long. Then again, staying up all night was normal for you. At least you looked bomb though. You felt the burning sensation of someone staring at you, so naturally you turn your head in that direction. Your eyes were met with the back of the purple haired boys messy head, but no one was looking though, so you shrug it off. Probably someone just scoping out the competition or something. “Denki, this is-”

“Contestants number 14788 and 14789? Follow me please,” a producer cuts off Mina and you feel a wave of anxiety wash over you. You grip the neck of your guitar tighter than you had been gripping it before. It’s not performing that makes you nervous, it’s performing in front of the panel of world-renowned judges that makes you nervous. And try as you might you can’t hide it. “Oh, shit, sorry Denki, I’ll talk to you after, okay? See ya!”

“Break a leg, Mina,” Denki says as Mina links arms with you and pulls you along with her happy steps. “I’ll introduce him to you after we both make it, I wanna know more about his friend anyways, so he better not leave until I interrogate him,” she starts rambling and you laugh a bit. “Awww, does Mina have a crush on the purple haired boy? Pink and purple go well together, you know.”

“No, she doesn’t. She thinks that you would look great with him though.”

“No. Not happening.”

“Come on, (Y/n), you gotta put yourself out there! It’s been two whole years since he who shall not be named broke up with you, you can-”

“Mina. Drop it. Please.”

“…Okay. So, I’m going first. hopefully I come out with a golden ticket, but if I don’t don’t let that psych you out, okay? You got this you crazy talented bitch,” Mina says, trying to lighten the mood. She knows you don’t want to be in a relationship ever again after what happened with your ex, but she can’t help it. She loves playing matchmaker and she just wants you to be happy. Recently you’ve been a little sadder the usual, so she’s concerned. It was like she turned back time to when you two first moved into your apartment and you were dealing with school and your douche of an ex. She knows you find Denki’s friend attractive, he’s 100% your type and you two would look amazing as a couple. Not to mention that his friend just so happened to be staring at you at any moment you weren’t looking in his general direction. Not able to read her mind going 100 miles a minute, you just nod at her words as you come face to face with the most famous emcee there is. Hizashi Yamada. Better known as his stage name, Present Mic, PM for short. “HELLO!!! You two look amazing! You ready to become the next UA Idol or what?!” he says, way too enthusiastically. You always wondered just how loud he was in real life, and he rivals Mina. That’s saying something. “I’m totally ready!” she responds, and you laugh at PM’s face when he realizes she’s just as loud, if not louder, than him. “So, you’re both auditioning, right? Are you going together? Separate?”

“Separate, we’re just here to wait outside for moral support,” Mina responds, and he nods. “Awesome! Well, tell me your names! If you two get through to Hell Week there’s a good chance you’ll be televised, so I would like to just talk for a minute!” he says, and you both introduce yourselves again. “Amazing! I’m assuming you two are great friends, I mean you must be pretty important to each other to have it just be you two with no partners or family or anything coming. Reminds me of me and Aizawa!”

“Yeah, but we’re just best friends actually! And roommates, we moved here away from our families and we’re both single, so all we have is each other,” Mina says, pulling you into a quick little squeeze. Present Mic screams something about how adorable that was before wishing Mina luck and sending her in. Shockingly, you’re both quiet as you hear her audition begin, and unsurprisingly, she flawlessly hits all the notes in Lady Marmalade. Her voice isn’t only loud when she talks, after all. PM’s eyes go big as he points at the door, looking at you and mouthing “She’s really good!” You just grin and nod. This isn’t news to you. After hearing her blast Whitney Houston and Mariah Carey all the time and belting out their runs and matching their high notes for about three years, it’s not shocking to you how great she can sing this song. Eventually, her singing stops, and PM waits a minute or two before he begins talking again, not necessarily quiet, but quieter than before. “I did not expect that kind of soul to come out of that little body of hers!”

“Yeah, she can be unpredictable like that... now imagine living with her,” you mumble, half kidding and half serious, but he laughs at that. Loudly. Not even a moment later, Mina walks through the doors and violently shakes the ticket in her hand at you. “I DID IT! I DID IT, KICK ASS, TAKE NAMES, AND MAKE SURE YOU COME TO HELL WEEK WITH ME SO YOU’RE NOT ALONE AT THE APARTMENT FOR A WHOLE WEEK!”

“I won’t be alone; Nyx will be there she is great company.”

“(Y/n), she is a black cat.”

“She is our third roommate and you will treat her as such,” you point your finger at her before PM gives you the clear to go in the room. “Make sure to hit your mark! That’s the tape shaped like a T on the floor! Break a leg,” he says, giving you two thumbs up. You nervously make your way through the short hallway, eventually landing right smack in the middle of the room. You make sure to hit the mark, as PM instructed, and you need to tell yourself to calm down as you look at four of the most influential people in music. In front of you sat Shouta Aizawa, Keigo Takami, Nemuri Kayama, and Toshinori Yagi.

Better known as just Aizawa, a well-known singer-songwriter. He stays behind the scenes mostly, and the rumor is he’s written over 20,000 songs for himself as well as other artists. The majority of course go to other artists, as he isn’t a big fan of all the fame and things, but the few albums he’s put out have some of your favorite songs ever written. He’s genuinely someone you’ve been looking up to for years upon years.

Then there’s Keigo Takami, who is known as Hawks. He chose his stage name because he’s always admired the strength and freedom of hawks and he decided that he wanted to be the same way. And he is, he literally can do everything. Every song of his sounds different, varying from rock to country. A lot of people really support his country music considering he calls his fans his chickadees. People just think it fits. The genre he seems to gravitate toward the most is definitely more of a rock vibe, even having his own band. And yes, the band’s emblem is a pair of red wings.

Next to him is Nemuri Kayama, or Midnight. She’s a world-famous popstar, but she makes sure to include some soul sounding belts in every single one of her songs. She’s Mina’s literal idol, and the amount of times you’ve had to listen to Midnight’s songs? So many. So many times. Not that you were complaining, her voice is amazing. You just wished she didn’t sing about love and sex all the fucking time.

And finally, there’s Toshinori Yagi. People tend to shorten his name to Nori, but he’s the most famous judge here. Not only does he own the All Might Record Label, he has won 11 Grammys, his music is played everywhere all the time, and he manages some of the biggest stars today. Unlike his rival record company, Endeavor Records, it’s said that Toshinori is ridiculously nice as well as a little strange, but in comparison to Enji Todoroki? The nicest man to walk the planet. 100%. Not to mention he’s also a singer himself. His songs are instant smashes, and everyone loves his voice. Even if he isn’t mean, he’s so ridiculously powerful in the business.

To say you were intimidated was an understatement.

[omega-queen-collects-lipstick]

Maybe reverse situation? Like big boys and bitty reader?

Hmmmmmmm. . . I may have the perfect situation.

Mc is a bitty working as a therapists assistant. She is very special needs however because of her energy deficiency. Almost like anemia but it's magic.

She and the staff run a live in facility for bitty and monster therapy recovery. She herself is a patient turned employee because of her ability to read emotions. You can't lie to her because she'll know.

Doctor rosen is her partner in this and they often host group therapy together. It's not until a particular incedent that mc meets the boys.

Well all except for quicksilver. He's her personal doctor and often let's her stay over in his apartment in the employee wing when rosen goes on special business trips. To which he either spoils the fuck out of her or is a prickly pear of a mother helicopter. He absolutely adores her and has his whole apartment set up for her comfort.

She was his and still is his favorite patient. She even trusted him enough to tell him her story. Not even rosen knows what happened before she was admitted her. Just him and Mc herself.

As for the incedent in question. . . It was a group therapy session for four former convicts. A gang boss, an arsonist, and two prostitutes. Technically it was just supposed to be Dr Rosen in the room. But then there was yelling and a crash then more.

Mc dashed inside the room to save her best friend with a "stop it right this instant!" Such a cute tiny yet brave little thing. It caught everyone's attention. Mc told them to pick up their mess and they did. Mc tells them to sit and behave they do it.

They can't imagine making this cute creature upset again

Of course none of them would take on another session unless she led the session. And that's how THAT started.

Erik is a gang boss by blood. He felt pressured into it by his heritage. As hardened and as high of LV he has he likes cute things. (I think every AU he does) He comes off as scary and mean to most but Mc can sense his padlocked soul. His reason for therapy is he couldn't take being in his line of work anymore and saught help. Currently he's selling out all his business and the FBI monster division is currently in the process of taking his death. The are many 'gaster type' monsters. They just have to switch his ID number with a faster type that recently dusted. The therapy is just until he's recovered enough to function. He adores Mc because she knows what he's feeling at any given moment and she let's him pick out 'the outfit of the day' for her. It's therapeutic for him. Especially when Mc picks out an accessory for him.

If anyone comments on MCs outfit or the occasional ribbon on his horns he has no shame about it and puffs up his chest.

Now if someone makes fun of of it there's gonna be a fight. No cap. He is selectively mute and doesn't speak often. So mc is invaluable in her ability to read his emotions. Especially when he comes up to her with a beaten up person or monsters and says "oopsies."

Kinda slow in the head but he knows the business. He's also boss at crochet and knitting. He can look at a complexly knitted sweater and copy it easily. However if you give him written instructions he won't understand it at all.

Hotaru is an arsonist. Not just because he's a fire monster. No. There's just something about watching the world burn that's just so intoxicating.

Clearly he didn't have the best child hood. And he acts much like a destructive child just far more dangerous.

Gaurds escort him to and from his room with high pressure water guns.

He was the one who started the incedent. He's entirely racist and didn't want to be helped by a weak ass human who assumes she knows him and how his mind works.

Mc however... When she came in he was shocked. Here he was ready to burn the whole place down and this little bitty comes in fearless even tho none of the gaurds are conscious and loudly as she can demands everyone stop what their doing.

He wants to know more. Your story. Your like. Dislikes. How you work. Hobbies. Do you like fire? Do you like cats? Him specifically.

Mc takes none of his bullshit and he loves it. Just watching mc get all angry and demanding is so cute. He can't help but listen because your cute satisfied smile is so much cuter.

Your so tiny and he will make it obvious constantly. He'll carry you. Pet you on your head with a finger. Baby talk you until you use your magic which is like squid ink.

On a less asshole like note he always goes to mc when hes in a vulnerable mindset. She's easy to talk to and she doesn't judge. Even when he talks of his obsession with violent devastating fires. She just gets it. Gets him. Gets on his level. Rhetorically of course. She's barely six inches tall.

Sweets is of course a prostitute trying to get away from his pimp. He's not 'pretty enough' anymore. It was only a matter of time before he became useless and took a dust nap if you catch his drift. Yeah his pimp isn't very nice.

But since he sought help in the facility once he gave up all the info they needed to bag the guy he's been getting some serious help.

Until the help stopped helping. The boy suffers from severe depression and his self confidence is abysmal. They thought group therapy would fix it.

It didn't work. At least not until he got transferred to a new group and the pyro head started that fight. Then mc such a tiny thing demanded everyone stop.

Such confidence and poise. He wants that. Or at least he thinks it would be more reasonable to serve that. Mc is so perfect. So pretty. He only hopes his horrible visage doesn't make her repulsed.

Mc often encourages him to be braver. Simple excercises. Speech work. Body confidence. Inner confidence. So much work mc has to do for even just a smidgen of self confidence in sweets. But it's always dashed so quickly.

However with Mc, she always makes sweets feel pretty. Admired. With her around he has a lot more confidence. He feels like he's worth something more than a hole to stick a dick in.

He loves it when mc asks his opinion on the cute little outfits Eric picks out. They're always flawless in his opinion by the way. In a way Erik and sweets help eachother with Mc in between.

Now eros, woo boi. He's a compulsive lier. Bad. Cleptomaniac to. He constantly has to be searched. Of course that's not why he's here. He's here because he was a pimpless prostitute that got caught in a fight with a well known pimp. The pump had been trying to force him to work under him and eros our beloved snek boi doesn't work under anybody.

He played witness to get the man put away so instead of doing time he'd get sent to the facility.

As if he'd ever let himself ACTUALLY be reformed.

Mc is onto him immediately and it shocks him. Legitimately he is shocked. He's a flawless lier and no one's ever been able to catch him. They can only speculate. Not only that mc knows when he's about to steal before even HE knows it. Even when he DOESNT know he's gonna do it.

At first he thought it was because mc was a lier to. Or a thief to. But she never lies. Never steals. He knows because he's watched her for hours and hours on end.

He's never had a gentle touch and he's scared when mc reaches to do so. Attachment is dangerous and fickle. He's so course and aloof to you even when he's joking and being playful.

But then mc catches him gouging a shiv he made into his bones...

He fully expected your judgement and pity but instead she showed him hers. She never told him where she got hers and she never asked why he felt the need to hurt himself.

Instead you placed your fragile teeny tiny hands on his and started crying. Crying for him. For yourself. He dropped the shiv and in a moment of weakness he cried to.

After that he started actually trying. He kind of adopted sweets as a baby bro. He likes to help mc give Erik and sweets makeovers.

He unlocks mischievous Mc. He's the only one who can get her to play harmless pranks and make cute little jokes.

With all this going on and the boys growing closer, by the time the program regimen ends for them they actually decide to keep receiving help. And they partake in the program where they can work in the facility so their never to far from their precious mc.

[wisqcrafts]

19 Home Quarantine Boredom Busters!

Bored? Bored??? Complain about your neighbors, your family, the government, the sky, anything else. But I never wanna hear or see anyone complain about boredom. Sorry not sorry. There's so many masterposts of things to do and free online resources. Here are just some of my dork ass ideas:

1) Free (yes FREE) online college courses from, you know, Yale, Harvard, MIT, etc:

https://www.coursera.org/

https://ocw.mit.edu/courses/find-by-topic/#cat=engineering&subcat=nuclearengineering&spec=nuclearsystemspolicyandeconomics

https://www.edx.org/school/harvardx

https://www.freecodecamp.org/news/ivy-league-free-online-courses-a0d7ae675869/?fbclid=IwAR1a9qAE6IcqmcQpPaTmXH6q63QBCA95rntnZPY0ah_U80d8u0wa9wAIYhc

What, like it's hard?

2) "Tattoo" practice - This is a personal idea of mine. Basically, you just take some non-toxic markers to draw on yourself or whoever youre in home quarantine with that wants a fake tattoo. This isn't the best time to be getting real tattoos but you can have fun seeing what youd look like with a one. If you dont really draw, you can print designs to cut into stencils.

3) Bento "stories" - I got this idea from the mom that went viral for the creative bentos she makes for her kids. I think, for even just one meal a day, it would be cute to tell a story with each bento. So if you're living with someone, they need to wait til the next day to find out what happens next! If you live alone, make them for yourself and post your bento story online.

https://www.boredpanda.com/creative-bento-food-art-samantha-lee/?utm_source=google&utm_medium=organic&utm_campaign=organic

4) Karaoke - By yourself or with others, doesn't matter, make it a party! Just search for your karaoke sobgs on Youtube. And anything is a microphone: hairbrush, remote, piece of fried chicken.... Good for you if you have one of those bluetooth mics tho.

5) Professor Day - Okay this one is really nerdy but it's more fun than it sounds. Pick a random topic, anything at all, and prepare a "lesson" or presentation on it. It could be one of your interests, an intro to a new language, or something you always wanted to learn. You can keep it to yourself, share the file online, or better: Dress the part and call your home quarantine buddies in for "class." If you live alone, teaching a class of inanimate objects would make for a silly yet informative video on your topic. Hey maybe this can catch on! Everyone can be an expert of something they're passionate about and should share their unique take on it, who knows who will be into it.

6) Miss Going Outside? Bring the experiences indoors! Like the family that made a home grocery for their grandma, you can make part of your home into something you miss from the outside world. Museum? Plenty offer free virtual tours. Cinema? If you don't have a big TV, you can make a projector for your phone with a shoebox. Camping? Hello, pillow fort and blanket tent. Roast marshmallows on the stove. Play relaxing nature sounds on your speaker. (Try the free app Relax Melodies, I love the mixing feature) Get creative with your space and what you have to make something you want. When you're really bored and missing the outdoors, Youtube or Google Streetview somewhere you wish you could go.

https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/75809/12-world-class-museums-you-can-visit-online

https://www.relaxmelodies.com/?utm_expid=.P1gqxCs8TYuGTBlAbE0VkQ.0&utm_referrer=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.google.com%2F

https://newsvideo.su/video/12560164

https://www.instructables.com/id/Build-A-Smartphone-Projector/

7) Room Makeover - No better time to do it! It's good exercise and it's a creative experience.

8) New Hair Dont Care - This is the best time to try an outrageous haircut or color since you're stuck at home. If it doesn't turn out ideal, no one has to know. If you love it, great! You can try any look you normally wouldn't wear outside or at work.

9) Safe Science Experiments - emphasis on the word SAFE. Safety first, always. There's plenty of free resources online for instructions, esp on YouTube.

10) Consume All The Free Movies, Shows, Music, Books, Audio Books and even Comics Online... it's endless! So much free... And now not so little time. You won't run out of things to watch, read, or listen to.

https://www.epubor.com/10-best-sites-for-free-comic-books.html

https://www.bettercloud.com/monitor/15-classic-video-games/

http://www.loyalbooks.com/genre/Non-fiction

https://www.digitalbook.io/search-audiobooks-ebooks.html#!///history

https://documentaryaddict.com/

11) Make a Short Film - Get creative or just be silly! Try stop motion with old toys, get yourself or someone you're home with into acting, or make your pet a star.

12) Tea Party - Be a kid again and dress up for tea... but put whatever twist you want on it! Wear an old Halloween costume or something! If you live alone, video call your friends or family to join you for tea.

13) Spa Day - All the pampering you didn't have time for when work/school wasn't from home? You have time now. DIY facial. Bubble bath. Nail art. Really soak in every little act of self love.

14) Practice drag makeup, styling, and performance for fun. Your gender or sexual preference doesn't even matter here. Its all good fun! Be a drag queen or king for a day. Lip sync for your life by yourself or make it a drag race with your home quarantine mates.

15) Mystery Day - Create a fake crime scene and have your friends/family solve it! Doesn't have to be a big mess and you don't have to make it so complicated for yourself or your home quarantine fam. You could also just write a simple mystery/riddle online for friends to solve if you live alone. You can even assign roles like accomplice, police, detective, etc. Work your brain, the goal is to kill boredom right?

16) Scrapbook - or Burn Book, Spell Book, pop-up book, revolutionary manifesto, whatever. Use anything you have as a base even if it has writing: an old phone book, something missing pages, a faded magazine, whatever. Then stick any pics, stickers, printouts, tags, wrappers, etc you want. What kind of book will it be?

17) Art Therapy - Even if you dont consider it something you're "good" at, use art to express yourself. It doesn't just have to be drawing, painting, or sculpting... You can pick up a forgotten musical instrument you may have lying around and just keep trying. Youtube is life. Countless tutorials for everything.

18) Crafts Crafts Crafts - Theres so many simple crafts to try at home. 5 Minute Crafts on Youtube and various other channels offer some great yet easy ideas. Try going about it in this order:

a) Look around your house for stuff you don't need. Set aside for craft pile or donate pile.

b) Look around again for any ways you can improve you home. You need mor storage? Is your shoe rack broken? Are you always missing something? Then search online for crafts specific to that.

c) Set up a neat work space with your craft pile and some tools you can use. Note: Never use kitchen items for crafts if you still intend to use them on food. You may be able to wash them but you can't undo any damage from crafting trial and error.

https://youtu.be/AROj7nkH2LQ

19) If you have any skill that can possibly help frontliners during this crisis, do see what you can do without risking your own health. If you can sew, donate masks or even PPE suits as there are guides online for the right patterns and materials. Even just a few pieces are helpful. If you sing, sing for our frontliners. If you write, write about them. Do your research about the situation in your town. Health workers, sanitation workers, grocery staff, and other essential workers are all putting their lives on the line. All we have to do is stay home but we can make the most of it.

https://drive.google.com/drive/mobile/folders/1-Xr-67gs2qw0o44-hy-INb89I9m-wcLD?fbclid=IwAR2q0JV6uqgDW5e_m5X5ABLv86rXdQodXh4x5fYDg9_WRsMe0hQwki9PUTk&fbclid=IwAR3Oofo8FIjzwZOoLepnGxYTrST_zV1dRf6NMtoWVRQVSuho1nnqwG5esUE

https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.cnet.com/google-amp/news/coronavirus-face-mask-what-you-need-to-know-about-making-a-covering-at-home/

[let-it-raines]

“I accidentally set your plant on fire and I felt super guilty so I went to the store to buy you another plant but they ran out of the plant that you had and I didn’t know what other kind of plant you liked so I may or may not have bought you enough plants to fill a small greenhouse?”

@doodlelolly0910 tagged me in this list of prompts, and I asked her to pick one for me to write so here we are! This is definitely, like, 2,400 words of foolishness, and there may be a bad plant pun or two in there. 

This is why she never agrees to house sit. She’s done it before, but that was only for Mary Margaret and David when they went on their honeymoon. And even then, it was a disaster when the cat got outside, and by the time she’d caught Grumpy (she still can’t believe they named their cat after one of the seven dwarves when Grumpy Cat already exists), the damn cat decided that its claw marks would look absolutely wonderful all over Emma’s face.

And her chest. She’s got a scar on her chest right above her right breast from where Grumpy had gotten his claw stuck in deep.

She thought she was dying for a solid week from some kind of feline disease. She’s not even sure what ones are out there, but she was definitely going to get one from Grumpy.

So house sitting hasn’t really been her thing after that, even if it’s easy money and something she can do after she gets home from her shifts at the station. And yet here she is wandering around the gardening section of Lowes because she set Killian’s plant on fire when she was in his house last night cleaning for when he comes home from visiting his brother in England today. There’d been a funky smell, and she’d lit a candle to try to make the place smell more homey and less like somewhere that had been empty for two weeks. And of course she’d accidentally knocked the candle into the plant, setting the thing on fire.

One job. She had one main job, and it all went up in flames.

Literally.

Two weeks she managed to take care of the place with nothing going wrong, and she screwed it all up when he’s coming home today.

Dammit coconut beach candle.

Maybe if Killian had a better taste in candles this wouldn’t have happened. It smelled good and all, but she likes for her candles to smell like baked goods. He likes for his candles to smell like the beach, even though they both live five minutes away from the beach. Seriously. She can walk there. So can he.

He doesn’t need the candle.

“Can I help you, miss?”

She turns around to look at the man who’s speaking to her, a Lowe’s blue vest draped over his shoulders. She thinks his name is August, but his name tag is too small and she doesn’t have her glasses on.

“Yeah, I’m looking for a houseplant, but I don’t really know what the name of it is.”

“Do you have a picture of it?”

No because why would she take a picture of Killian’s house plant before she set it on fire? That would be premeditated murder or something ridiculous like that.

“No, sorry,” she cringes, looking around the garden. It smells like water in here. “It was tall, kind of leafy, maybe beachy? I don’t really know. It’s not my plant. It’s my neighbor’s, and I kind of accidentally destroyed it.”

“You destroyed a plant?”

“There was an accidental fire last night.”

August open his mouth, but he quickly presses his lips together, obviously remembering that he works here and isn’t supposed to judge her. He’s totally judging her.

“So tall and leafy then?” he asks, taking a step ahead of her. “Follow me and I’ll show you around while we try to find it.”

She looks at approximately sixty-seven brands (Breeds? Types? Species?) of plants, both house plants and ones that go in gardens (apparently Killian could have been growing an outdoor plant indoors), and after two hours, she’s got a cart full of twelve different tall plants. She doesn’t know how she’s going to fit them in her bug, but she’s kind of desperate. There’s no way Killian won’t notice that she killed his plant, but maybe it’ll be okay since she’s now bringing all kinds of vegetation into his house.

She’s going to have to move out of their duplex, isn’t she? She’s a plant murderer, and she’s going to have to move. There’s no other choice.

The irony is not lost on her that she’s arrested people for actual murder.

It takes some maneuvering, but she manages to get all of the plants inside, putting the one that looks closest enough to the old one in the spot in the living room and dispersing everything else throughout the house. They don’t really go, but the man obviously loves his plant for him to leave her such specific instructions on how to take care of it.

Oh God. She hopes a dead relative didn’t give it to him or something.

A dead relative probably gave it to him. Or an ex-girlfriend.

Or a current girlfriend.

That doesn’t seem quite right there. Their walls are thin, and she’d know if he had a woman over. Not that she’s listening or anything. She’d just know. Plus, they kind of have a thing going, don’t they? She’s not really sure because as much as Killian flirts with her, he flirts with everyone. It’s how he talks. There’s an innuendo constantly at the tip of his tongue, and he can twist absolutely everything into something dirty.

But they have…something. She’s not sure what. It’s been a long time since she’s had what is basically an adult crush (feelings? That seems ridiculous) on someone, and she’s not sure how to read the situation. She reads situations for a living, but it’s different when it comes to her personal life. Ruby is absolutely convinced that Killian is head over heels in love with her and that’s why his flirting is somehow different with her. It’s softer, not quite as risqué, but she doesn’t know too much about that.

All she knows is that she likes her neighbor and she burned down his plant.

And broke his candle.

Shit. She should have brought a new candle.

“Swan?” Killian calls, and she practically loses her legs from underneath her as she grabs onto the kitchen countertop. “Are you in here?”

He is not supposed to be home. For hours. She was supposed to have hours. How the hell does a flight from London get in early? It’s an international trip. It should get in late.

“In the kitchen,” she calls out, reaching up to tighten her ponytail on top of her head.

“Love, why is there dirt on my floor? And new plants everywhere? Are you starting a greenhouse? Did someone break in and…leave me plants? Is there some epidemic of a new breed of burglar? I know I’ve been gone, but I feel like you should still have kept me updated on something as fantastic as that.”

She’s not at all prepared for him to be home. His plant is not that big of a deal, but somewhere in the back of her mind she’s freaking out about this being some kind of weird sign that she’s not nurturing to life somehow. But that’s some anti-feminist shit, and she should not at all be worried about things like that.

Honestly, maybe all she wants is to make sure she gets paid for taking care of his house.

How much she spent at Lowes far outweighs how much Killian is going to pay her.

They’re not known for their Lowe prices.

That was a bad joke even in her head.

“Swan,” he says again, his body coming into view. He looks the same as when he left, but it’s not like she expected him to suddenly change his appearance because he went back home for a few weeks. His beard is a little thicker and his accent is definitely thicker, but he’s still the same. “Emma, why the bloody hell have you turned my house into a greenhouse? Are you housing some kind of animal in here that I don’t know about? It’s fine with me but our landlord will – ”

“I burned down your plant,” she blurts out, not able to keep it in anymore. She hasn’t been this nervous in months. She doesn’t even know why she’s nervous. She’s a badass deputy sheriff who kicks criminals’ asses (and deals with friendly drunk people on the roof of the Rabbit Hole but that’s a different story) and isn’t intimidated by anything. Her adult crush is obviously reverting her back to a teenager.

Hell, she wasn’t even like this as a teenager. She was much more…hardened by the world.

This is obviously a delayed reaction to Grumpy scratching her. This is it. The sickness is finally catching her.

Killian tilts his head to the side while his right brow raises in a move that is so him that it might as well be his signature. “You what now?”

“I was in here last night, and I decided to light a candle to make it smell less stuffy. And then because apparently my body is not my own anymore, I knocked your dumb coconut sea ocean banana whatever breeze candle into it, setting your plant on fire. So I went to Lowes and couldn’t find the same plant and – I guess I bought you a lot of plants, which was really dumb.”

“You killed my plant? And then you bought me – ” He gestures around the room, his lips curling into a smile while her stomach does this weird twisting thing. “ – more plants? I never knew you had such a green thumb.”

“I mean, I’d say I have a charred thumb but whatever.”

They both laugh at that, and the coils in her stomach begin to untwist, everything calming a bit. She’s been so ridiculous about this entire thing. This is not her. This is not her at all.

She’s going to have to take home some of these plants, isn’t she?

“So you don’t hate me for killing your plant?”

“No, I don’t,” he sighs, dropping his backpack and taking a few steps closer to her so that he’s hovering in her space. “Actually, I quite fancy you from time to time when you’re not murdering a plant that my mother gave me before she passed away.”

Shit.

Of course his mother gave it to him before she died. Of course. Of course. Of course.

“I am so so so sorry,” she starts, feeling heat rise in her cheeks while her stomach starts coiling up again. And then she looks at Killian, actually looks at him. The lines around his eyes are crinkled, the corners of his mouth practically at his eyes, and he’s practically vibrating from holding back his laughter. “You asshole,” she huffs, leaning forward to hit against his chest, knowing that she’s hitting a little harder than she intends to. “Your mom did not give you that plant. You made me feel bad for nothing.”

“Well, you did kill my plant and presumably break my candle.”

She has a retort on the tip of her tongue, but then she’s watching Killian’s as it traces along his bottom lip and completely ignoring the way he’s grabbing her hands on his chest and intertwining his fingers with hers, squeezing the slightest bit. Or maybe not completely ignoring it. She knows when something is happening, and something is definitely about to happen. She’s kind of…overwhelmed.

“Hey, Emma?” he whispers, his vibrant smile shifting into something much softer as he stares down at her, his breath warm and minty so close to her lips.

“Yeah?”

“Will you let me plant one on you? I really am rather frond of you and missed you very much.”

Oh my God, that was bad, she thinks to herself, having to bite down on her tongue.

It was bad, but the guy knows how to think on his toes.

“I cannot believe you just asked to kiss me by making bad plant puns.”

“Well, I never said they were going to be good. You make horrible jokes all the time. Ones that are far worse than that.”

“I do not.”

“You do.”

“Name one.”

“Well, there was last month when we were watching the weather channel and a parade got cancelled because of the rain, and you made about six separate ‘rain on your parade’ jokes.”

“Hey, now. That was – ”

“Emma?”

“Yeah?”

“Please shut up and kiss me.”

And she does, pressing up on her toes and pushing forward to brush her lips over his, timid at first before Killian releases her hands and tugs her impossibly closer by placing his hands on her back under her shirt, his lips more aggressive as they move with hers, the softness of his mouth contrasting with the roughness of his beard. It’s a burn that she wants to revel in, especially when she nips at his lip and he lets out a groan that makes her toes tingle.

They actually tingle.

Like some kind of weird fairytale.

She has no idea why he’s suddenly decided that now is the time for them to stop dancing around each other and make a move, but she is most definitely not going to complain.

He’s a damn good kisser.

“So, like,” she gasps when they pull back, breaths heavy and warm against each other while her hands move up and down his biceps while Killian’s arms stay still on her lower back, “if I set fire to all of these other plants, do we get to keep doing that?”

“Eh, I don’t know. I think I care about the earth too much to let you destroy it more.”

“I do like a man who cares about the environment.”

“Would it be too soon to say that showering together saves water?”

“It’s not too soon, but that is definitely not true. Plus, shower sex is totally overrated.”

“If you say so,” Killian hums before he quickly slants his lips over hers once again, a fleeting kiss if she’s ever felt one. “Remind me to never let you house sit for me ever again.”

Killian doesn’t ever ask her to housesit for him again, but it doesn’t really count as housesitting when you live in the same house. This new one is on the beach, so beach scented candles aren’t necessary. It doesn’t matter anyways. All of their house plants are fake now.

As if she couldn’t set one of those on fire.

(They do shower together, and it definitely does not preserve water.)

[brokestminimalist]

Be Prepared for the Apocalypse!

We know what you’re thinking.  Having a disaster kit isn’t minimalist!  It’s just a bunch of junk you’re keeping “just in case” and that goes against everything minimalism is about.  Normally we would agree with you.

HOWEVER.

We live in tornado country.  Spring and summer are incredibly nerve wracking. Remember those tornadoes that fucked up the South in 2011?  We were hunkered down in the basement of the factory we worked in that day, with 1200 other employees and no electricity.  It took us 30 minutes to drive home less than a mile because there were so many trees and power lines down.  We went out that weekend to help with cleanup in Hackleburg and Phil Campbell, Alabama and they were just... fucking flattened. We took the following photo in Hodges, AL in April 2011.  Check out the black helicopter.  PS, this was a residential neighborhood.  Note the disappeared houses and utility poles.

Our BFF’s house in Tuscaloosa was totally destroyed.  She survived by hiding in her tub with her boyfriend. So you bet your ass we’ve got a disaster kit and a Shelter-In-Place plan.  We don’t have a Bugout plan because we can’t fit all our pets in the car with us, and also because if we’re bugging out so is the rest of the city and we don’t want to die in our vehicle when the big one hits.  We’d rather die in our cozy house with our dogs.  Also, running from a tornado in your car is a dumb move.  In 2011 many of those killed had been caught in their vehicles when the storms hit.

ANYWAY.

The point is, you need an emergency preparedness plan and you need some supplies to keep you afloat for 3-5 days until the power comes back on or rescue arrives. Starving, freezing and wandering around in the dark are not minimalist goals.  So let’s go over some things you might need:

Light:  You could use candles, oil lanterns or flashlights if the power is out.  If there is a burn ban due to the possibility of ruptured gas lines (listen to your radio to find out)  you’ll need to rely on flashlights to keep from blowing yourself up.  In that case, LED ones will last much longer than old school ones.  Keep enough batteries to power these for a few days and make sure to replace them when they expire every few years.  To conserve these items, get what you can done during the day and plan to sleep after sundown.  (Or at least sit in the dark awake and tell ghost stories to scare the crap out of your kids.  Ahhh, childhood memories!)

Food: Stock a cabinet with non-perishables like potted meat, crackers, peanut butter and granola bars.  Make sure they can be eaten cold or heated over a fire, in their original container if possible.  Keep a can opener with these items if they don’t have pop-tops. If you want to get fancy, you could get a bucket of freeze-dried meals that you just add water to or a box of those emergency ration bars.  We hear those are gross, though, so try to stock up food that won’t be miserable to eat.  If there’s a disaster having tasty food to eat might be the bright spot in your shitty day.  Most of these items do expire eventually, so keep an eye on the dates.

Water: You’ll need one gallon per person per day of clean water for drinking and washing.  This can be in gallons bought from the store, or if you know there’s a storm coming you can fill your sinks and bathtubs beforehand.  If you want to get fancy, get a Waterbob.  Keep your pets in mind too.  Look at their size and calculate how much they need and keep it on hand.  You could also invest in filtering devices or chemical tablets to make rain or river water drinkable.

Heat: If it’s summer and the power is out, you’re just going to have to sweat.  However, if it’s winter you’ve got some options assuming there isn’t a burn ban.  The most basic one is to have a stock of firewood for power outages.  You can use a fireplace or fire pit to burn it for warmth and cooking.  There are also kerosene and propane heaters, which often have a little spot on top for heating up a pot of food or water.  Make sure you’ve got tanks of the appropriate fuel on hand and that you know how to use these devices properly.  Also keep some blankets in waterproof containers with your disaster stuff, and grab a pack of space blankets and learn how to use them.  (They aren’t like regular blankets.)

Communication: Since it’s possible that phone lines and cell towers will be down, you need some way to get info.  An emergency NOAA radio will do the trick.  You won’t be able to communicate with family, but you’ll hear weather alerts and get instructions.  Many of these things are also FM radios, so you can check your local stations for specifics on where to go for aid if you need it, as long as those stations are up and running.  Our radio happens to also be a solar flashlight and a USB charger, so check those out.

Shelter: If your house is still standing, even if it’s somewhat damaged, staying there is your best bet.  Cover broken windows with plastic shower curtains and tape and shelter in the most intact room.  If there’s no heat, light your fireplace if possible and pop a tent in front of it.  If you are caught without shelter, you’ll need a tent and good sleeping bag.  These can be had from sports and outdoors shops or the internet.  Get ones that fold up as small as possible for storage, but are still good quality so you won’t freeze.

First Aid: Hopefully you’ll come out unscathed, but keep a solid first-aid kit anyway.  You can buy good pre-assembled kids from the Red Cross, or put together your own.  You’ll need antiseptic, analgesics, bandages, gauze, ointment, and at least a week’s supply of your own prescription meds and your kid’s and pet’s.  Check the expiration dates regularly and keep all of this in a sealed, waterproof container.  Here’s some random stuff from our kit we inspected today:

Clothes: Keep three to five days worth of clothes, socks and underwear per person in a waterproof container.  If there’s flooding or your roof is damaged, all your other clothes might get wet or contaminated.  Keep some sturdy boots in there too.

Sanitation:  Keep some trash bags, disinfectant spray and hand wipes available.  No one wants to die of dysentery during the apocalypse.  Baby wipes are great for refreshing yourself when there is no shower available.  Also you may want some personal hygiene stuff in a waterproof container like toilet paper, feminine hygiene products, toothbrushes and tissues.

Fire prevention: Not all disasters are caused by wind.  Make sure your smoke alarms work and that you’ve got an up-to-date fire extinguisher in every kitchen on every floor.  Baking soda will also put out a fire.  If you’re maintaining a fire pit or fireplace during a disaster (or even on a normal day) keep a big bucket of sand for putting it out safely.

Kids: Put back some baby formula and diapers if you’ve got little kids.  Any medications they need, clothes and blankets and kid-sized sleeping bags.  We’d also recommend some entertainment items like books, crayons and coloring books, toys or board games.  Trying to get a tree out of your kitchen will be a lot harder if you’re trying to deal with bored kids.

Pets:  Keep 3-5 days of extra food and water on hand in waterproof containers for each pet, plus leashes and collars, blankies, crates, ID tags and rabies certificates, and any meds they need.  Kitty litter and disposable litter boxes are a plus.

Miscellaneous: It may be handy to have some other items put away, such as a battery backup for your phone, spare glasses, a whistle or emergency flares to signal for help, firestarters or cigarette lighters or matches in a waterproof container, a compass and map, spare keys, cash, or important documents.  We have a favorite book put away, too.

~HAVE A PLAN IN PLACE~

Now that you’ve got your supplies, hopefully put away in plastic totes and waterproof containers in a secure location, it’s time to talk about plans.  You should have a plan for any disasters that are likely in your area, and you should have an annual family meeting to talk about and update these plans.  For everything except fire, be prepared to get your kids and pets corralled indoors. Here are some examples:

Fire:  Suppose your smoke alarm goes off at 2 AM.  Do you have a fire extinguisher? Where are you going to go?  Are you sure your windows aren’t painted shut?  Do your kids know how to open them and pop the screens out?  Where is your cat?  Where are you all going to meet once you escape?  Whose door can you knock on in the middle of the night to call 911 and whose job is that going to be?  Answer these questions and talk to your family about all of them.

Flood: Check your local maps to find out if your house is in a likely flood zone. You’ll probably have warnings before this happens, but do have plans in place.  Are you going to get in the car and leave ahead of time? Are you going to stay and live on your roof? Can everyone swim?  We’re not too familiar with flood danger because we live at a high-ish elevation, so anyone who is, feel free to chime in with advice.  Do not leave your pet behind to die like some assholes did in Florida last year.  Those people are shitbags who deserve to drown.

Stormy weather: Tornadoes and hurricanes and even just regular old straight-line wind can fuck your shit up.  Do you have time to get to a nearby community storm shelter, or are you going to have to stay at home?   What room in your house is safest?  Do you have a basement?  Do your kids know to stay away from doors and windows?  How are you going to restrain your pet from roaming into the less-safe parts of the house?  

Earthquake:  All we really know about these is standing in a doorway.  FEMA says you should know the safest spots in your house and practice going there and holding on until the shaking stops.  Assess your situation afterwards and be careful of damaged buildings or other structures.  Our history professor insists that this continent is overdue for an earthquake at the New Madrid fault and it’s going to screw much of North America, so even if you think you live in a place where earthquakes don’t happen it’s worth going over a plan for this once a year.

Blizzards, ice storms: These ones are all about staying in and staying warm and fed until the power comes back on.  Keep tons of blankets ready, have your heat source planned in advance (fire, propane, etc.) and hunker down until its over. Your kids and pets may want to play in the snow, but don’t let them be out there for more than 20-30 minutes at a time. Falling trees are a major danger during ice storms, as is skidding off the road in your car.  DO NOT DRIVE during an ice storm unless it’s to the ER.  Forget about your job; no minimum wage bullshit is worth your life.

Other natural disasters: If you live in an area where you are at risk from volcanoes, wildfires, mudslides or tsunamis look up procedures for those and make a plan with your family.  These are probably situations where you’ll need to GTFO instead of staying at home, so be prepared for that and know where you’re going to go.  And please, if your local government tells you to get out, then get out.  We know it’s hard, but stuff is just stuff.

Epidemic: If there’s a major outbreak of flu, ebola, or whatever, stay at home and avoid people at all costs.  You’ll need a much more extensive supply of food and water for this one.  Check out the CDC’s website.

Nuclear war:  Our plan is to die at the beginning, but if you’re looking to survive there are lots of websites out there that can give you good advice.  Some general stuff we’ve heard is to evacuate as early as possible, never look in the direction of the blast (to avoid going blind, yeah?) and stay underground if you can’t get away in time.  Basements, wine cellars or real fallout shelters are your best bet.  If you’re outdoors during the blast or fallout, rinse off with lots and lots and lots of water and don’t eat or drink anything that may be contaminated with radioactive dust.  Good luck friends, cause we won’t be out there with you.

Zombies: We also plan to die at the beginning of this one, so we can hopefully eat the brains of that Mrs. Kravitz-esque bitch down the street.  If you want to live, board up your windows and shelter in place, we guess.  You’ll need lots of extra food and water for this one too, and maybe a good stockpile of ammo.  Watch The Walking Dead or something for ideas.

It’s early in the year still, so you’ve got time before shitty weather season to get ready.  If you’re reading this you’re probably broke like us, so try to set aside a few dollars from each paycheck for some canned goods, first aid, and batteries.  Collect stuff weekly and by spring you’ll be better off.  Good luck and stay alive, peeps!

Links: Pet Disaster Kit, Zombie Survival, Bugging Out

[haydenstudiesblog-blog]

Citing a (Literature) Paper

My professor began this discussion by saying these tips will hopefully be helpful in the future when we’re writing 5-10-15-page seminar papers. My heart sank to my butthole when she said that but I digress.

NOTE: In this post, the terms “in-text citations” and “citations” are used to describe the citations that appear in a paper, in the body of the text. When I start to refer to the part that is added to the end of the paper, the bibliography or works cited, I’m just going to call it Works Cited. I thought I would clarify so there is less confusion.

NOTE ALSO: Please take everything I say here with a tiny grain of salt. This is everything my professor told me in class, but every professor is different and she even admitted that it’s possible the MLA style could have been updated since she’d last checked and things could be slightly different now. In the end, it all depends on what YOUR professor personally prefers. So, when you are assigned a paper, don’t be afraid to raise your hand or approach your professor after class (it’ll only take a minute I swear) and ask for their preferences in some of the things I mention here. It’s always good to be sure.

How to Cite

When writing literature papers, it’s pretty known that the format is MLA style. However, double-check to make sure your professor/school does it this way. I don’t know of any place that uses a different style, but it’s still a good idea to check anyway rather than assume. You know what they say about people who assume.

When citing MLA style, in-text citations are typically: (AuthorLastName Page#) if that makes sense. The citation goes at the end of the sentence, outside of quotation marks and inside of punctuation. The citation itself contains no punctuation whatsoever, no abbreviations. Example: (Doe 3).

When it comes to a Works Cited, before you bust your ass creating one for every paper you turn in, ask your professor if you need one for your papers. I’m in two literature classes this semester. In one class, we write our papers on work from one anthology textbook the entire semester, and we don’t use any outside sources, which means our professor knows what we’re citing from. All we have to do is the in-text citations, no Works Cited. In my other class, my professor wrote up a bibliography online of all the readings. I think this was partially required on her part, because she took all of these readings and developed her own course packet so we’d have them all handy and not have to print every story we read. Anyway, she has a document filled with the bibliographies for everything we do and don’t have to write a paper on. Because of this, she said we don’t have to include the Works Cited, just the in-text citations. So definitely double-check with your professor and ask if they need a Works Cited for every paper you write in the class.

A great resource I highly recommend if there are more questions or if you’re brand spankin’ new to this would be OWL Purdue. It’s a great resource, I have yet to experience a professor who doesn’t recommend it. There you can find more help with in-text citations and instructions on how to create a Works Cited.

Now I’d like to get down to some nitty-gritty in-text citation stuff. It may seem irrelevant, but it’s all necessary for citing properly.

Paraphrase vs. Summary

Summary is commonly used for longer texts, such as an entire story. Paraphrase is used for shorter texts, such as a paragraph from previously mentioned story. Summaries do not need to be cited, and paraphrases...well, that depends.

Paraphrase Specifics

Paraphrase allows you to move between direct quotes (DQ) and your own words when talking about a certain aspect or part of the story (obviously this can all be used for essays and other forms of writing as well, I’m just using story as an example here, don’t feel limited).

Do you always have to cite it? Well. If you are unsure whether or not your paraphrase is too similar to the original line in the story, just cite it anyway. You can never have too many citations in a paper, and it’s better to be safe than sorry. Just make sure you don’t leave it open-ended, meaning for every line a cited quote or sentence takes up, you should have two lines of opinion or reasoning behind or discussion about the citation. However, if you’re 100% confident in your paraphrasing abilities, you don’t need to cite a paraphrase unless it utilizes that mobility between your own words and a DQ.

Here is an example of paraphrasing, from Karen Joy Fowler’s “Heartland”:

Willina takes her life at the end of Heartland. She “[severs] . . . her heart and her head” (62).

There are a few things to address in this example.

The brackets: the word “severs” is inside brackets inside the quote. Why? Because while this word was specifically used in the story, it was used in a different form, sever or severed or severing. When you alter a word slightly from the way it appeared in the story, place it inside brackets to indicate this alteration.

The ellipsis: AKA the “three dots” that a lot of people don’t know the technical name for. Obviously these were not in the original sentence in the story. The ellipsis actually indicates omission; therefore, the ellipsis is put in the quote in place of unwanted or unneeded parts of the quote. The stuff you decided to leave out. The original line in the story was: “One night she put a noose around her neck and severed the connection between her heart and her head.” The first half of the quote wasn’t necessary, because it was paraphrased and accounted for. Therefore, that part of the quote can simply be left out and ignored. However, when writing this paper, it’s hard to think of a better word than “severed” to describe what happened here, so we keep the word, alter it a little with the help of the brackets, and then it’s time to deal with the rest of the sentence. Because we used a specific word from the quote, it needs to be included in the citation. But there are parts of that quote that we don’t need in-between “severed” and “her heart and her head” so what do we do? We take out the section in the middle that we don’t need and in its place we plop an ellipsis. This signifies that there is a portion of the quote missing, that we altered it to fit our needs.

The citation: While you hopefully took notice that the citation is outside of the quotation marks but inside of the punctuation, you may have also noticed that it only indicates a page number. Why is that? 

When talking about a piece of writing, in this case the story, we are only referring to one author the entire time. And we aren’t using any other sources in our papers, so it’s 100% clear who we are citing. Because of this, our professor informed us that we only need to mention the last name in a citation once in our papers. After that first regular citation (for example (Fowler 62)) we aren’t changing sources, so we can just include the page number in the parenthesis. 

Also, let’s say you’re talking about two authors. In the first paragraph you need to cite Author A, and you cite them a couple of times but you don’t cite the other author in this paragraph. In the first citation include Author A’s last name and page number and in the rest of the citations IN THAT PARAGRAPH you can shorten it to just a page number. However, in the next paragraph you need to start over again, even if it’s the same author you’re citing. It’s the same concept as citing only one author, but it’s condensed to paragraphs. If you are citing both authors in the same paragraph, just do the full citation and don’t risk it.

No page numbers: In one of my current literature classes, we use a course packet to do our readings. These readings were found online and printed out, which means some of them have page numbers and some of them don’t because they were originally just articles (example, we read Cat Person last week, no page numbers). While we don’t do papers on every single reading, we have had a situation where one of our readings didn’t have page numbers. Everyone in the class wrote in their page numbers themselves, since we didn’t have anything to use for our in-text citations. Our professor was cool with it and told us from now on to write in our own page numbers if there weren’t any provided.

**However, before doing ANY this, I would check with your professor and ask if that’s okay. Every professor is different, and the MLA style logistics change often enough that this could be slightly off. Also, different professors can just have different preferences, regardless of what is the “new” MLA style. Never just assume that your professor is cool with whatever you do; it’s best to ask first.

[myselfinserts]

❝ Lions and tigers and bad taste, oh my! ❞

The rise of quirks and heroes in society had cause a great deal of change since their birth. One great change, the resurgence of arranged marriages. Quirk marriages to create powerful offspring.  Most countries have now outlawed them. Others have simply reworked them into a new way of making it seem appealing. Rather than matching people by quirk, they were also looking into rank, family, and so on. At a quick glance, it felt almost like an arrangement you’d find in a dime store romance novella. Everyone got dressed up, and were presented to the public as both suitor and savior.  Marriages would be arranged by both the couple and their respective associates. 

And thus, Reginald Gladstone found himself at the front of the new social season. Despite not wanting to be. 

Lucky for him, this year’s first major event was a diplomatic ball held in Paris. 

"Okay,” Regi said, “so I think I have a solution to this whole arrangement ball debacle."

"And that is?"

"Marriage."

Étienne rolled his eyes, not taking his attention off the stove. "Reginald, I already told you, I'm not going to marry you so you can get out of your responsibilities. I'm a happily married man already, and I'm not going to serve Ceri divorce papers just to-"

"Not what I meant!" Regi groaned. "I don't have to marry you specifically. I just have to find someone else who'd be willing."

"And then what? Break some poor sap's heart when you're finally free of this? That's low Gladstone."

"Not if this person also wants out of the situation."

Étienne turned around, shooting him a look. "…You're seriously dumb enough to try and cheat the system like this?"

Regi smiled, leaning against the counter playfully. "How long have you known me?"

"Too fucking long. Now get out of my kitchen and go set the table."

“I’m serious, E!” The technonaut did as he was instructed, though he refused to let the conversation drop. “I just need to find someone to keep the public off my back!”

“You mean to keep McMiller off your back.”

Regi winced. Before the start of this year, the two had been inseparable. Him and Mary had made Elspie’s biggest news story. Everyone was certain they’d get married. But Regi broke it off not long after encountering Étienne at a conference with an acquaintance of his. The lovely lady was of sharp wit and had great insight on many things. Including when it came to boundaries. Something, he realized, Mary lacked. 

“Look, Étienne, I’m serious.” Regi sighed, setting down the last utensil. “If I don’t find someone, the EHA is going to insist on me and Mary becoming a match. And unless you know someone who’s in need of a beard, I’m at a loss as to what else I’m supposed to do.”

Étienne set the lasagna pan on the tray in the center, staring pensively at the set up. “...Perhaps I might know of one or two people in attendance tomorrow. I could introduce you, at least.”

“Really?!”

“I’m only doing introductions, Gladstone. How you humiliate yourself in front of everyone is up to you.” 

Regi smiled brightly. “That’d be more than enough. Thank you.”

Étienne pinched the bridge of his nose, trying hard to ignore the oncoming migraine. “I really don’t want to attend, but L insisted. Ceri is excited. Might as well try and do some networking.” He narrowed his gaze on Regi. “Just don’t do anything stupid like get stuck like a stray cat.”

“I won’t do anything stupid, Étienne. I promise.”

Étienne raised an eyebrow at him, but said nothing more and continued finishing up preparing dinner. Regi hurried in to grab the drinks, smiling widely from ear to ear to the point where his cheeks hurt. 

There was no doubt in Étienne’s mind. 

That man is going to get himself into all kinds of trouble.

They tried hard not to laugh. They really did. But L and Phoenix couldn’t stop looking at each other in between the photographs of all who would be in attendance. Most were in casual attire, but some were photos of what the guests would be wearing that night. The costumes and arranged dresses for some of the VIPs were the most gaudy, unflattering things they’d ever seen. Bright colors in sickly shades that would no doubt cause even Regi to flinch back in horror. 

“Can you believe some of these things?” Phoenix asked, snacking on the deli platter. “I mean, really.”

“Well, you know how it goes,” L giggled. “When in Oz, find a house of a different color?”

“Pretty sure thats not how it goes.”

“Oh you’re right. It’s more ‘Lions and tigers and bad taste!’”

“Oh my!”

They burst into laughter, nearly spilling their food. The two almost regretted having to be there on the job. A party like this would have been a great time to relax and just enjoy the night air. Sadly, they’d been offered a gig that was too good to pass up. The King of Estmund, King Davis, was to be in attendance with his heir, Prince Mirakel. As well as the island kingdom’s only hero, the Peaceful Shepherd Hero; Amaryllis. And they were to help the Estmund hero guard the royals. A decent enough assignment on its own with a high payout, and if the gossip surrounding them were true, the Prince was supposed to be a delight to be around. 

What really sold them on this job was the perks. Phoenix and L were both offered, along with the usual payment, a two week vacation to one of the manor houses by the coast. They’d be waited on hand and food, have free range of the grounds, and of course, they’d be allowed to spend time at the castle. A building infamous for being filled with cats. 

More than worth a few days babysitting a prince. 

A knock at the door brought the them to their feet, and they straightened up to meet the young prince at last. The doors opened, and the Peaceful Shepherd walked in, face partly covered with their mask and hood up. With a bow, their hand held out, gesturing to the person walking in as the doors closed quickly behind them. Dressed in lovely shades of navy, with bright bubblegum blue hair and soft spinel eyes. 

“Introducing their Highness, Prince Mirakel of Estmund.” Amaryllis motioned for the Prince to step forward.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” the Prince said. “Phoenix, Lady Lazarus. I understand you are to be my guards tomorrow evening?”

L and Phoenix exchanged a look, turning their attention to the Shepherd and in eerie unison, “We are, your Highness.”

Amaryllis and the Prince stared at them in shock. “I’m sorry?”

“Cut the act,” L said gently. “It’s not going to do us any good if you want us to actually do our jobs.”

“What, is this a parent trap situation?” Phoenix grumbled. “Really not up for that kind of gig.”

“No, I assure you, it isn’t anything like that.” Amaryllis sighed, removing their hood and mask. “Lucien Adaire is the name I go by legally. You can call me Luci. I only take on the Mirakel name when doing royal duties.”

The ‘Prince’ shrugged, moving a hand over his face, changing his eyes from spinel to snow white. His other hand reached up, removing the wig he’d been wearing and shaking out his long, tawny hair. “Count Gossamer, at your service. Lauris will suffice. I’m the prince’s body double.”

“Please don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Please do tell us how you figured it out.”

Phoenix paid them no mind, simply looking at L with a cocky smirk. “Alright, pay up.”

L let out a huff, reaching into her pocket for her wallet. “How much?”

“Enough for a five gallon tub.”

“Really? Would have thought it enough for ten.” 

Luci stared at them, slack jawed. “How...what?”

L looked over at them, her mask perfectly reflecting their bewilderment. “Oh, Phoenix and I had a bet going. She thought that trick would be enough to get you both to drop the ruse. I said it wouldn’t. My mistake.”

Lauris bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “Sneaky indeed.”

Phoenix laughed. “Yep.” She wrapped an arm around L’s waist. “Don’t worry. I’ll share.”

“Wait,” Luci insisted. “How did you-”

“Oh, it was a guess,” she said. “Based on some news footage of the Helsinki incident. Where you instinctively did the reach for that crook of yours when the embassy got attacked and ‘Amaryllis’ was trying to drag you away.”

“....Ah.”

“I warned you that I should have taken over for you that day,” Lauris chided. “Let’s hope no one else is as smart as these ladies.”

“Don’t worry,” L assured. “Only about five of the people on that guest list would qualify. We won’t tell anyone.”

Luci smiled softly. “Thank you.”

“No sweat.” Phoenix sat back on the sofa, picking up a copy of the newspaper. “Now, how about some ice cream and we discuss how we’re getting you both out of the marriage debacle?” She held up a finger to silence them. “You’re as obvious as a romcom movie to us. Silence and we shall save your ass.”

L curled up beside her, humming contently. “They really are as predictable as one of Ceri’s novels, aren’t they?”

“You love a good romance.”

“That I do.” She leveled her gaze on their charges, smirking. “I’m guessing you are in a desperate state to find true love but don’t want to both trap your potential partner in such a responsibility and want the freedom that comes with being Amaryllis, not Mirakel.”

Luci looked over at Lauris. “Am I really that obvious?”

Lauris smirked. “No comment, your Highness.”

Phoenix flipped the page of her newspaper, not even looking up. “And you’re not interested in marrying because you both don’t like it in concept and also because you’re not able to be with the person you want to be with. Political obligations?”

The cheerfulness in Lauris vanished completely. “Not everyone is lucky enough to find someone and stay with them.” He narrowed his eyes warningly. “You certainly do your research.”

“No, you’re just really easy to read. Much more than this newspaper.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“Far too much. Now about that ice cream?”

“Do sit down,” L insisted. “Look, we’re not going to blab about this to the tabloids. We just want a full understanding of the situation before we go forward.” She reached over, picking up a glass of juice that had been left for her. “Makes our jobs all the simpler. You both want what’s best for you, right?” They nodded. “Then just leave it to us.”

Luci put their hood back up, sighing in defeat. “Very well. We are in your care.”

“Excellent. Now, let’s discuss your plan for escape, shall we?”

[james-bionic-barnes]

Before the Dawn (Part 1/?)

Summary: The Avengers are called to destroy a HYDRA weapon, but when they arrive at it’s location, they find you there. Bucky knows you’re highly dangerous, your powers even more so, but he can’t help but get closer to you.

Pairing: Bucky x enhanced!Reader (slower burn)

Word Count: ~3000

Warnings: Language, angst, & a bit of combat. 

A/N: This is far different than anything I’ve posted on here, so I’m a bit nervous. Still, I’m excited for where this could go and I hope you all are too. I’m experimenting with some different POV options (this one will have both Bucky’s & the reader’s POV, but this time around Bucky’s POV is in first person) so there’s that. Hope you enjoy :)

Y/N’s POV

         You never have been afraid of the dark.

         In fact, the darkness was never your enemy, not even when you were a child. While other children would want their nightlights to shield them from the darkness, you preferred it. When you were surrounded by the dark, you could hide from everything that threatened you – you could hide from any monster that crept into your life, figurative or not.

         What scared you was the light. It made you vulnerable – you were taught repeatedly not to be. The idea that vulnerability got you killed was ingrained in your head. Darkness protected you by wrapping you in its embrace. Your parents taught you to accept it, to let the darkness sleep under your bed if it wished, to let it crawl inside your head and root itself there. If darkness was what strengthened you, then the darkness you would become.

         And so you did.

 Bucky’s POV

         “Hey, motor oil, wake up!”

         Sam’s shouting is followed by him loudly knocking on my door, pulling me from my sleep. The bastard knows I wake up easily, so just him yelling one annoying little sentence is enough to wake me up. I groan into my pillow in annoyance before sitting up, running a hand through my hair to neaten it. I pull on a shirt before leaving my room, finding almost everyone either standing or sitting in the living room, as though this is some family meeting or something.

         “What is it now?” I question as I walk up. Immediately, everyone turns to look at me, as if I’m the newest exciting thing they’ve seen all day, when really, I look like my usual self – a cranky, disheveled super-soldier. “And look away, I haven’t done my hair.”

         My joke doesn’t go unpunished, as I soon feel Wanda’s punch on my arm soon after. Thankfully, my question is soon answered despite my sarcasm after it as Fury walks out from the elevator, with Steve following behind him.

         “Morning everyone,” Fury greets. His tone is casual, and I know there’s a purpose to that. He wouldn’t be so warm unless he was delivering bad news.

         “Making a house call?” Tony asks as his arms fold across his chest in a guarded movement. Fury shrugs in response, again a more casual response, handing over a file to Steve. He opens it and begins to read as Tony continues to stare down Fury, raising a questioning eyebrow at the Director. Steve, however, narrows his eyes as he reads the info from the file – clearly, this is not a normal visit.

         “Of a sort. I have a mission for you all. There’s a HYDRA hideout in the middle of Montana that supposedly used to house an incredibly volatile weapon. I want you to see if it’s still there, and if it is, destroy it,” he explains. The file is passed around until it reaches me. I read quickly, now fully seeing the reason for everyone’s confused and wary expressions. There’s a bit of info on the history of the hideout, but as far as the supposed weapon they were housing, there’s nothing besides the name of it – Project Dawn.

         “Did you hit ‘enter’ a bit too early here, Director?” Clint asks. “There’s no info about the weapon itself.”

         Fury nods. “Besides the title, that’s all the info we have on the weapon. We don’t know what it is, what it does, or what it was specifically made for. All that we know is that it is highly dangerous. There was an accident a few years ago in which an entire building full of HYDRA agents were seriously injured. After that, the project went completely underground and vanished. For all we know, it could have been moved elsewhere or is gone completely.”

         Sam shakes his head. “You’re telling me this mission is some Schrödinger’s Cat situation.”

         “Yes. Even with little intel, this is still your job. If that weapon were to get out, who knows the damage it might cause. I know you’ll be walking blind here. But going and finding out it’s not there after all is better than letting a HYDRA weapon loose on the world,” Fury tells us, glancing around at everyone in the room before he turns around, heading back toward the elevator. “I expect you all to leave tomorrow morning. I’ll keep in touch.”

         With that, he leaves us all in stunned silence.

         “Well, this is going to be fun,” Wanda mutters, slumping down onto the couch as she folds her arms.

         “Oh, I’m sorry, doesn’t a mission where we know nothing about a dangerous weapon we’ll be facing sound fun?” Tony asks her, his voice dripping with sarcasm – well, more so than usual.

         “You’re never one to complain about taking missions, Tony,” Nat points out.

         He waves a hand in dismissal, and reaches up, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, well, all our previous missions include intel. Do you know how much this mission has? Practically none. I like knowing what I’m up against, especially if it’s a HYDRA weapon.”

         “You do realize we can’t just sit back and do nothing, right?” Nat asks. “Even if we knew absolutely nothing about this mission, going into it blind is better than standing by and causing bad things to happen through being inactive. We need to do this.”

         “I agree,” I speak up. “As bad as the intel is for this mission, we’ve never backed down before. Besides, this weapon could be gone already, and this mission can have zero conflict in it.”

         “Yeah, and then what happens? We go on a wild goose chase until we find the weapon?” Clint asks. “Sure, that’ll be easy.”

         “Nothing we do ever is,” Steve says. “We’re going on this mission. We’ll cross our bridges when we come to them.”

         “Not if they’re burned before we get to them,” Tony mutters.

         “Just be ready to leave tomorrow morning. Since we don’t know what we’re up against, prepare for the worst,” Steve says. He glances over to me, tilting his head just slightly toward the hallway, signaling me to follow. I’m sure he has something to say, but just doesn’t want the rest of the team to overhear it.

         I follow him to the gym, where he proceeds to sit on one of the weight press benches, leaning his elbows down on his knees. “I don’t like this.”

         “Kinda figured as much,” I reply. “But what you said is true – we need to do this. Doesn’t mean we’ll enjoy it.”

         Steve smiles wryly, and glances up at me. He looks me over, his eyebrows furrowing a bit – I know he’s scrutinizing me, trying to read me. He’s normally successful in knowing how I’m feeling, but he always likes to ask me himself. “How are you doing?”

         I shrug. “I’m all right, pal. Doing better.”

         “You sure?” he asks me, wanting to be positive that I’m not just putting up a front about being okay, which, honestly, I’d do. It’s typical Steve – ever since we came back to the compound from Wakanda, he’s been on my ass about how I’m feeling. I still have nightmares, and there are some nights I feel like I’ll wake up with no memories again. But I know that won’t be the case. Here, I’m safe, and I’m remembering. That’s the important part.

         I nod, reaching down to clap him on the shoulder in a reassuring gesture. “Yes, I’m sure. Now come on, I’ll make breakfast.”

         The rest of the day is uneventful, thankfully – I guess everyone else is busy preparing for tomorrow’s mission. I go back to the gym, working out to try and clear my head a bit more. The idea of this mission makes me unsteady – naturally, with all the gaps in my memories, I prefer situations in which I know everything. I like detail, order, plans. And now, we’re going on a mission to destroy a weapon that we know nothing about. It isn’t exactly a soothing thought, and my overactive imagination does little to help.

         The next morning, everyone piles into the quinjet to leave for the mission – the tension and nervousness in the air is almost palpable. Even though we’ve all prepared as much as possible, we can’t precisely know what we’re walking into.

         I look out of the window, seeing the near-abandoned facility we’re about to go search. The building is worn down, with boarded up windows and chipped brick. Moss and vines cover the sides, as though the building is trying to appear as though it’s growing from the ground. It resembles more of a home that’s been abandoned for years rather than a top-secret HYDRA facility. There are two stories, but the intel we received said that there was a basement level as well – my guess is that is where Project Dawn might be stored.

         “This is going to be easy,” I joke.

         “Oh, but of course,” Clint agrees, matching my sarcasm as he looks up at Steve, slipping the bow off his shoulders. “What’s the plan, Cap?”

         I glance over to Steve as well, watching him do what he does best – lead. He sighs, folding his arms as he glances out the window of the quinjet one last time before turning back to us. He seems calm, calculated – and I can see straight through it. Of course, there’s a bit of truth to the charade Steve is putting up – he’s done this sort of thing before, has faced certain death before. But with a mission like this, with one with so little intel, it isn’t surprising that everyone is on edge.

         “Clint, Tony, Nat, and Sam – you’ll work the top floor. Bucky and Wanda, you’ll be with me on the first floor. We need to clear out the agents in the building, and then look for Project Dawn,” Steve instructs. “Keep your guard up. We don’t know what all we’re getting into. If you even think you hear something, you call in reinforcements.”

         “Aye, aye, Cap,” Nat replies with a salute. I smile softly at her humor – if anyone is used to sticky situations, it’s Nat, and so her lighthearted mood is appreciated, no matter how cheesy it may be.

         The quinjet lands, the hatch opening slowly as everyone trains their weapons up. I follow behind Steve and Wanda as we move to the right side of the building, the others going left. When we enter a locked door, Wanda easily unlocks it using her powers. It opens with a loud creak, and I aim my gun down the corridor, expecting to have to shoot, but no one comes. I motion for Steve and Wanda to go ahead of me so I can watch their backs.

         “Ten hostiles on the upper floor,” Sam radios in. “Well, nine, now.”

         “You’re too slow,” Clint’s reply is heard just after, prompting a slight laugh from Wanda.

         Steve peeks around the corner of the double doors leading into the main area of the first floor. “Five hostiles.”

         Wanda scoffs, cracking her knuckles in preparation. “Easy enough.”

         She’s met with a small smile by Steve, who turns back to look at me before motioning at the set of doors. “Kick it down in three. Two. One.”

         The two of us kick at the same time, sending the doors flying off their hinges and thudding onto the floor, obviously alerting the HYDRA agents of our presence. I land shots on two before they can even bring out their guns, Steve knocks out one with his shield, and Wanda sends the last two flying into each other, taking them out of the fight as well.

         “Upper floor is clear, Cap,” Nat radios in.

         “First floor is also clear.”

         “What took you so long, old man?” Sam asks. Steve rolls his eyes, sighing.

         “Just come meet us at the entrance to the basement level,” he replies. It doesn’t take long before the others come down, meeting us at the bottom of the stairs with an electronically locked door. Nat hacks into it easily. I follow behind Wanda again as Sam and Clint follow behind me down the hallway.

         “Now this seems more like a HYDRA base,” Clint mutters.

         “I guess the top two floors are a way to hide the real base. Are these… cells?” Steve asks, looking at the multiple electronically locked doors. Each room, however, is completely empty. There’s over twenty in this corridor alone, and the basement of the house seems to be far bigger than the actual house. “Why have empty cells?”

         “Why are they empty in the first place?” Wanda asks in response. “Keep your eyes open, everyone.”

         We eventually reach other set of doors at the end of the hallway. This next set takes slightly longer for Nat to break through. Slightly. When the doors open, multiple HYDRA agents are there to greet us.

         “So sorry, boys, I was just looking for the ladies’ room!” Nat shouts as she roundhouses one of the agents in the face. As she’s taking down one, I see one coming from her left side, and I shoot him before he can even think about getting too close to her. She winks at me in thanks.

         I quickly count seventeen hostiles – and the count begins to go down as everyone does what they do best – kick ass. One agent manages to grab me from behind as I’m distracted by getting one agent off Clint’s back, but the agent quickly regrets his choice of attack as I just grab him with my left arm and pull, sending him spinning straight into the wall.

         I’m about to shoot the last agent before he immediately drops to his knees, raising his hands in surrender.

         “What do you want?” I ask.

         “What do you mean? I’m surrendering.”

         “HYDRA agents don’t just surrender,” Steve replies, grabbing the agent by the shoulders and shoving him up against the wall. “Talk. Why are you giving up?”

         The agent laughs wryly. “Because you guys killing me, or whatever you decide to do with me, is far better than facing what’s behind that door,” the agent responds, glancing over to the doors on the right side of the room. Those are far more secure – iron, with both a bar and a safe lock running across the middle, as well as another electric panel.

         “Is it Project Dawn?” Steve asks. When the agent doesn’t respond immediately, Steve pulls him back and shoves him against the wall again, thudding the agent’s head against the wall. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to pressure him into talking.

         “It’s what’s left of that project. But I’ll tell you this. If you let that… that thing out of here, you’ll regret it. It’s more powerful than even we know. And you’re about to find out,” the agent responds. Before any of us can react, he reaches up, shooting out the electrical panel keeping the safe door locked. Steve knocks him out, and we watch to make sure the door isn’t going to open now that the electronic lock is broken.

         “It’s just the electrical portion that was broken,” Nat says. “It shouldn’t be able to open. The rest is manual from the outside.”

         I’m about to believe her and relax a bit until I see a thick, dark smoke start to slip out from underneath the door, as well as from the top. It wraps around the safe lock, and it begins to spin slowly, unlocking the door. Steve runs up, reaching for the lock – but is pushed back by it. The darkness can touch him, but he can’t touch it.

         “Just how the hell are we supposed to shoot smoke?” Sam asks.

         “We’re gonna have to find a way,” Clint replies. “Get ready.”

         The smoke continues to open the safe lock, and once it is opened, I watch as it shrinks back through the same cracks it came through. The door just barely opens, and it seems like we stand in scared silence for hours until suddenly the smoke is all around us at once, pulling us down into it and knocking everyone out.

 Y/N’s POV

         It was surprisingly easy, taking them out like that.

         The moment the door to your prison was opened, you were freed. Suddenly, the darkness wasn’t forced to coil within you in that small room any longer. It could spread out as far as it wanted to. You took your chance and completely enveloped the strangers, allowing you to step out and inspect them. They were all on the ground, rendered nearly unconscious by the darkness you surrounded them in – it wasn’t painful, necessarily – at least, you hadn’t made it that way, yet. You merely wanted them to remain still.

You had sensed the light within all of them before you even opened the door. They aren’t like the people you’ve grown up with. They’re different. They have darkness within them, sure, but not a malicious one. You sense it’s the darkness of pain and grief, as well as guilt. The people you knew growing up never felt that.

They’re here for you. You’re the weapon, after all, and when you had overheard their conversation about you, or rather what you were meant to be, you knew they were here to kill you. You know it won’t go well for them if they try to kill you. That meant getting them on your side to avoid hurting them.

Your eyes close, and the darkness around you shifts as you turn your hand as it rests by your side. The darkness trails from one person to another, sensing the level of darkness within each one. You find one whose darkness within him is the main source of the guilt you felt previously. But his heart is also full of light – enough to make you recoil at the amount of it. It must be incredibly hard to balance that without breaking. You dwell in his darkness for a moment, sensing a bit of his trouble – and you understand it all too well. If anyone will listen to you, it’s him. The darkness beside you coils itself in anticipation as you begin to wake him up. And if he attacks you, it is coiled to strike.

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[sunsinourhands]

Exhausted Enlightenment

Ok. This is probably going to be large, and irrelevant to pretty much everyone who follows me. It’s going to go down a ton of rabbit trails, and probably won’t be readable. So Imma put it behind a cut.  TL; DR I wish I knew what I was doing, because I’m a fucking mess. 

I am so fucking tired. And this isn’t even the normal exhausted tired I’m talking about. I have insomnia, which causes me to get like 3-5 hours topsies a night. I’ve been through like four meds for sleep aids, herbs, special music, the works. And this is a new kind of tired. I’ve circled around to my Field of Fucks and found that they were entirely barren.  This entire thing starts with witchcraft-and the fact that I have a lot of self doubt when it comes to it. I have never been able to really ‘feel’ energy or spirits, and always felt like less of a witch because of it--or not really a witch at all.  I moved back to my hometown in 2013, and got into a circle that was--long story short--bad for me. And I’ve gotten the same responses to my problem for almost four years now. It’s a god damn dance.  1. I feel stagnated and can't make any progress on my magic studies.  2. I try to figure out what the issue is.  3. I eventually ask someone for help figuring it out.  4. Divination says : shut up and deal with your emotions.  5. And I always have kind of a vague like...I know I'm a hot mess, but I don't know specifically what I'm supposed to be addressing or how. 6. Most people respond with 'oh, you know,' and I'm like...I really don't. And I’m just so fucking tired of this dance with myself. It’s like, an emotional blockage could be so many fucking things with me. And what pisses me off the most is how much I feel guilty and ashamed and embarrassed by this entire thing. Like, I SHOULD have figured out how this bullshit works and fixed it by now. Why can’t I seem to wrap my head around it? How do you even fix this shit?  And it just brings me back to all the fucking bullshit I’ve had to deal with with mother figures. My biological mother is a human being literally incapable of nurturing anything. I’m so sick of having to deal with her in my life, because she’s a fucking pain in my ass. Without making this unnecessarily dramatic, I had to emotionally raise myself and I don’t appreciate her trying to make a Chinese Drama out of our family life. If I’m being honest, my CATS clearly have more affection for me than she does, and she can’t fucking decide if she wants a ‘perfect mother-daughter relationship’ or if she hates my guts and wants to ruin my life. And that’s just the CURRENT bullshit.  I spent so much of my life trying to please mother figures that clearly just strung me along for the pleasure of having someone trying to please them.  I don’t want to take more courses. I don’t want to go to grad school. And I know that my mother doesn’t support what I like or what I actually want to do, and everything she says is a farce. But it’s such bullshit that I have to be stuck in this shitty play staring her, directed by her, and written by her. I’m really just ancillary cast that only shows up to up the drama when she wants it.  I am so sick of trying to please people, and feeling like I’m a lesser person because some people are better at shit than I am. I feel like I’m tip-toeing around everyone all the time, so worried about rejection that it just takes up my entire life.  I shouldn’t feel like I have to hide hobbies or interests or constantly worry about coming across as a bother--but I do. And I can’t seem to shake it. It feels like I constantly have to prove myself, and the only person holding me under that is myself.  I just want to relax like a normal person. I want to goof off without feeling bad about it. I don’t want to worry about being perfect and over-achieving all the time and feeling like I’m not worth people’s time. It feels like I have to do everything myself, and everything has to be perfect or everything will just fall apart. Asking people for help feels like cheating.  And I don’t really trust people. I’m stuck on this stupid knife-edge of constantly seeking validation that I’m worth ANYTHING from the people around me, but I feel like I can’t count on anyone.  And I have to push down my feelings to get shit done, or shit just doesn’t get done. People act like it’s crazy that I don’t trust other people, but it’s like I give and give so much to the people around me. I quash my own feelings so I can get things done around the house, around the office, around anywhere. If I don’t take care of something, there is no guarantee that it’ll EVER get done.  And I’ve been in therapy and tried to ask for help, and it almost always seems to end in me having to pick things up again when the person who ASKED ME TO ASK THEM FOR HELP can’t help me in the end after all. So it’s like I’m penalized for not asking for help, and asking for it. And then I feel bad about TELLING people about this happening, because then I’m responsible for hurting their feelings about this entire mess. The only person who actually expresses gratitude for me doing shit is my fiance, @praecognomen. Everyone else just seems to expect me to go the extra mile for nothing but spit in the eye.  It’s so dumb to me that I need people to express appreciation. But, honestly I’m not enough of a saint to feel like doing stuff is its own reward. And it feels like I’m the one who has to constantly deliver, or everything goes to shit.  Anything I do feels like a lose-lose situation and I’m just so fucking tired.  I’m typing this at 1 in the fucking morning because even if I feel tired, there is no way I’m falling asleep before 4am anyway. And then I’ll get one hour before my fiance gets to sleep, and then the cats will scream at me all morning for attention. And it’s like OK WELL I GUESS I GIVE UP. EVERYTHING IS JUST FUCKING DUMB.  It’s like I’ve reached a burnout point past the point of exhaustion, or emotions, or tears because I don’t have any left. It’s like my body has just given up on feeling tired or feeling depression because feeling things isn’t going to get me anywhere.  It’s like all I know is that so much is wrong and I can’t seem to pinpoint any of it, or find a way to fix anything.  The only thing I can think to compare this to is that I have a basket and when I’m not looking people fuck up my basket and put trash in it and I’m like WELL THIS IS CLEARLY A PROBLEM but I can’t figure out how to clean up my basket good enough  and this dirty basket is clearly the issue But everyone around me keeps fucking it up and no one will tell me how to clean my basket or stop people from making it a mess.  And part of me really just wants to say ‘fuck it, I guess my basket is just LIKE THIS and I won’t be able to do anything with it ever,’ and I’m constantly fighting with myself over saying ‘fuck it’ to literally everything around me and laying in bed all day.  I just want some HELP and I don’t know how to properly ask for it, and I’m so sick of getting burned. Asking for help takes so much out of me, and I’m just

so exhausted

of being shamed, guilted, or bullied for asking for help

or told that I just need to work harder and do more things 

when I’m already juggling so much and 

just need 

some instructions

on how to fix some nonsense

without adding more to everything.  And it’s gotten to the point where I don’t want to go to therapy because the therapist doesn’t believe me when I say people are unreliable, or that asking for help is more trouble than it’s worth, or I can fix everything by DOING MORE THINGS, SOCIALIZING MORE, ALWAYS BE EXERCISING, AND  none of that helps with the exhaustion of having to do everything I already do.