#this is a zero effort post i made at 2 am instead of sleeping like a normal person

[tipzyness]

So here's the jjk iceberg that I wanted to do ^^

[godzillerd]

Resident Evil 8 AU Pt 2: Parenthood Boogaloo??

Former Post Here

To summarize: Ethan takes deal. Miranda goes boom. Village goes boom. Chris is like this is serious. Heisenberg is like no baby for me pls. Ethan is like yeah no absolutely no baby for him pls. Chris is like sorry but baby for him. Didn’t even get a baby shower. Fucking brutal. Hate this place.

RIP pls forgive this obnoxiously long post that will never become a cohesive fic.

Why am I like this. 

My life is a sea of regrets.

Seriously though forgive how all over the place this is - it is literally me vomiting thoughts for sport.

Immediately after leaving the village (what was left of it) Heisenberg headed west with Rose. 

As expected, it took a matter of hours for the Duke to show up bearing gifts. Not much, mind you, but enough. 

He even allowed Heisenberg to start running a tab, despite quibbling that it was a bad business practice. 

For the first year, they were completely off the grid with zero contact with the rest of the world, usually living in ramshackle hunting cabins in the forests of whatever country they happened to be in at the time. Hungary, Austria, Slovenia, and eventually Switzerland. 

Not requiring food or water himself, caring for Rose was relatively easy with some help from Duke. Heisenberg became an old hand at building fires out of nothing.

The whole baby thing did not come naturally to him. In fact, it took over six months for Heisenberg to have any kind of clue as to why the potato might be screaming this time. 

He came very close to just killing it and fending for himself, but after seeing what Rose did to Miranda... it was enough to make anyone hesitant. 

Around eight months in, Duke showed up with a new present: A cell phone. And a secure number. And a delicate observation that Ethan Winters might actually kill Heisenberg if he didn’t call soon. 

Calls with Ethan were an infrequent thing. Ethan passed along pertinent information, but being under heavy monitoring, he didn’t have a lot of private time. 

Heisenberg had less of an excuse, and just genuinely didn’t like Ethan. 

Despite being told about it specifically, Heisenberg missed Rose’s first and second birthdays. She didn’t seem to mind. Ethan did.

Around then, it became obvious that living in the woods, completely cut off from humanity, wasn’t going to work out well for a growing child. 

Did you know electromagnetic energy can really fuck up a bank machine? 

Heisenberg (well, Duke) found a reasonable, small cottage on the outskirts of a village in the south of France. He put together a decent little business selling metalwork crafts that were simple (for him) to build, but could sell for high profit. Horses were a bit of a specialty.

Became the local backwoods crazy rural uncle who can fix anything using anything. 

Ethan managed to pull enough strings to buy himself a four hour window while in France for unrelated business to visit Rose for the first time just before she turned three. 

They agreed to meet in a town about an hour south as Ethan had ‘security concerns’. 

ie. He and Chris both doubted Heisenberg’s ability to blend into a crowd. 

To prove a point because he’s a petty bitch, Heisenberg walked Rose past Ethan five times while Ethan was waiting around for them. Ethan only noticed them when Heisenberg said his name. 

Shaving, showering, a haircut, and new clothes can do a lot for a man. 

Rose did not recognize Ethan and was extremely reluctant to speak to him at all. Eventually, she was coaxed into introducing herself as “Rosalie-Elise”. For reasons beyond Heisenberg’s comprehension, this seemed to have a profound emotional effect on Ethan. 

Aside from occasional visits from Ethan (usually every year or two) it was mostly Heisenberg and Rose against the world. 

Duke did roll through, though less frequently than when they were actively fleeing the village. He was incredibly fond of Rose, after all.

Until Rose turned three, Heisenberg largely saw her as a nuisance - something he was obligated to keep alive for his own sake. 

When she was three, and shortly after they settled in the French House, Rose began picking up on Heisenberg’s mannerisms. Speaking like him, sitting like him, trying to mimic everything he did on a smaller scale...

Overnight she went from a nuisance to the apple of his goddamn eye. 

Heisenberg rarely called Rose by her name unless it was serious. More often than not, she’s ‘Kid’ or ‘Blondie’

By the time she started school, Rose could dismantle, repair, and reassemble most standard engines (with a bit of help). She was also shaping up to be a mean little welder.

She also picked up a bad habit of swearing (fortunately, only in English)

Rose was raised speaking French almost exclusively, and her English was heavily accented. Heisenberg learned it with great difficulty, but became fluent by speaking only French for years.

Despite being happier by himself, cut off from other people, Heisenberg deliberately put in the effort to appear as ‘normal’ as possible. 

He never claimed to be Rose’s father - to her or to anyone else. Instead, he called himself her crazy uncle and left the gossip-mongers to come up with a story about her parents. 

Ethan was mockingly referred to as ‘Brother’ every time he called or visited, though. 

When Rose was six, Heisenberg gave her a watered-down version of what happened in the village. 

Watered down for him, at least. 

Rose had nightmares for six months. 

In the midst of that fun time, Ethan gave them a warning that the BSAA was starting to suspect something, so they up and disappeared in one night. 

This pattern continued for years, destroying any chance of Rose having a ‘normal’ childhood. 

Despite that, she developed a startlingly good mindset about things. Influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew up with a tendency towards independence and isolation, with a hell of a lot of self-confidence and pride to boot. She never particularly enjoyed being around other children, even when she had the opportunity. She preferred staying close to Heisenberg whether it was necessary or not. 

Being an obnoxiously touch-motivated brat, Rose spent most of her childhood hanging off his neck, or flopped over his shoulders, or literally hugging him while he was juggling hot metal. Heisenberg gave up caring when she was about four and by the time she was five he didn’t really notice it at all. He often sprawled on the couch just so the kid could nap on him and catch up on sleep. 

After learning the truth about the village, Rose never did sleep particularly well at night - especially not alone in her room. Most nights, Heisenberg would sit next to her bed until she fell asleep. Sometimes even all night. 

Again, likely influenced by Heisenberg, Rose grew to dislike Ethan as time wore on. Despite her solid relationship with Heisenberg, most of their arguments were about Rose seeing Ethan. 

Heisenberg understood that their safety relied on Ethan being on good terms with both of them. Rose “didn’t give a fuck”

They reached a compromise eventually that Ethan was only ever promised one hour with Rose. If she wanted to leave after that, it was her choice. Similarly, Heisenberg let her set the boundaries about hugs and calling Ethan her father. 

Needless to say, Ethan stopped getting hugs by the time Rose was ten, and he was never called her dad. 

On the other side of things, Rose adored the Duke just as much as he adored her. Whenever Duke was in their neck of the woods, he made a special point to track them down in order to give Rose extravagant gifts. 

Puberty was a hell of a time.

A hell of a time

Rose manifested a massive amount of power in the span of six months when she was thirteen. Around the same time she discovered her love of girls, teenage rebellion, and sticking it to the man.

During one rip-roaring fight when she was fourteen, Rose sent Heisenberg through not one, nor two, nor even three walls. She sent him through five.

Somehow, that incident was enough to curb the rising tide of teenage hormones and got them both back on track.

Heisenberg always struggled with knowing how much or how little to tell Rose about their predicament. On one hand, Ethan hated the idea and thought it would destroy her entire childhood. On the other hand, Heisenberg disliked the idea of lying to the kid. 

Eventually, circumstances were such that there was no choice but to tell Rose everything in order to stay safe. By the time she was twelve, she had a pretty good idea about everything that had happened in the past. 

Mostly because Ethan assumed he wouldn’t do it, Heisenberg also told her all about himself.

Surprisingly (or maybe not so surprisingly, after so many years) it didn’t change much. She tried to use it as ammunition during a few teenage tantrums, but when she realized it didn’t phase him, it was never really brought up again. 

[theres-a-goldensky]

26 + 2 Various BL Series Fic Recs

Fandoms included in this fic rec list: Love By Chance, TharnType, Until We Meet Again, My Engineer, 2 Moons, HIStory3: Trapped (plus a bit of bonus Theory of Love and WHY R U?)

I’ve found a handful of good fics for all of these tiny pairings that I am newly obsessed with, and I thought I’d share them with you if you’re also looking for something good to read. Please, if you have recs of your own, point me in the direction of any other good stuff!

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

IT chapter 2 list one and two - Reddie 

Good Omens - Aziraphale/Crowley

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

LOVE BY CHANCE / THARNTYPE

1. the count up series by sweetiejelly - Tin/Can - ~34,000 words, explicit - A fix-it fic post-canon where Tin and Can slowly work out their issues with some missteps and learning along the way.

So two weeks later, when Can first does it, Tin doesn't know what to do. For the longest while, he just turns off his phone screen. And then turns it back on.

good night, tin. it's been a while but i promised to say good night. so, good night, sleep well.

Every damn time the text is still there.

In the end, Tin deletes it.

The next morning, Can does it again.

good morning, tin. looks like rain today. don't forget your umbrella.

Tin deletes it.

The texts keep coming.

2. ** LBC Aftermath series by Mara - LBC/TharnType crossover- ~6700 words, mature - Were you too horrified by Techno’s ending in LBC? This author feels your pain and did her part to get some justice for Techno. This fic has zero sympathy for Kengkla, which I deeply appreciated. This will help you work out some of your anger. It features LBC!Techno and the TharnType versions of Tharn and Type. Mind the warnings, since this deals with the serious consequences of Kengkla’s actions.

Kengkla stayed at the house through the morning and Techno was so jumpy he nearly leaped out of his skin every time Kla looked at him or talked to him. Even though Kla had explained what happened and how he wasn’t upset to be dating, Techno still felt weird. He kind of wished he remembered what had happened. A guy should remember how he lost his virginity, right?

Kla grabbed him in a big hug and Techno froze, managing a weak grin when Kla pulled back to smile at him. “I’ve got to go home now. But I’ll call you later. Let me know if you go somewhere.”

“O-okay.” Techno stared as the boy let himself out the front door.

3. 5 + 1 by strokeofluck - Tin/Can- ~3600 words, rated general - This is a sweet story about the times when Pete sees Tin having feelings for Can. 

Pete weighed his options as he glanced back and forth between Tin and Can. Can didn’t seem to be bothered by the whole thing, he even had a shy smile on his face. Or at least, Pete thought it was a shy smile, he had never really seen this kind of expression coming from Can before.

He could let this whole thing go, he supposed, but he didn’t really want to. It was time for him to finally say to Tin: I told you so.

“You were born in Bangkok,” he said, casting a wide net and hoping Can would find himself caught in it.

Can did.

4. That Testified Surprise by Mara - Techno/Tharn/Type - ~7000 words, mature - This is a LBC canon rewrite that stars the TharnType version of all three characters. Type realizes something is not...quite...right with Kengkla and invites Techno to stay with him and Tharn instead of going home drunk.

Pouring Techno into the passenger seat, Type sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled the phone out to check it, entering the passcode. (The passcode was the birthday of Thai national football team captain Siwarak Tedsungnoen, of course. Duh.)

Fuck, it looked like Nic had been either texting or calling every 20 minutes since they got to the bar. What was up there?

Scrolling back through the evening’s texts, Type scowled harder. Loving brother or not, this was fucking creepy. Going back farther, it looked like it was a pattern. Did the kid do anything other than pester his brother about his whereabouts?

THARNTYPE

5. everything he wants by minkit - ~5100 words, explicit - Type accidentally ruins one of Tharn’s shirts and agrees to do whatever Tharn wants to make up for it. Which means it’s porn stretched over the bare bones of a plot, and it’s great. 

Tharn’s hands moved across the bed, slowly, inch by inch and it was frustrating because Type knew they were heading to him, but Tharn took his sweet time. And then they were covering his hands and Tharn’s face was mere centimeters from his and Type could barely breathe. It took everything he had not to lean forward and capture those lips that also belonged to him, but he had a feeling if he tried, Tharn wouldn’t let him. He had that look on his face and Type knew what it meant.

He knew he was in for a long rest of the night.

6. You’ve Got Mail by perthbysaint - ~7800 words, explicit - Type sends Tharn nudes at the most inconvenient times.

A selfie? From Type? Tharn was thanking all of his lucky stars as he happily taps to load the image. The picture loads and Tharn’s phone slips from his suddenly lax grip. Convinced he couldn’t have just seen what he thought he just saw, he picks his phone up hastily and stares very intently at the picture.

It’s a mirror selfie, obviously taken in a changing room, but that thought comes secondary to thighs. Type is holding the camera in front of his face to take the picture, shirt clenched in his other hand and pulled up slightly to show off the shorts. The fucking shorts. He had seen Type in his soccer gear before and yes, Type has most definitely asked for the wrong size and Tharn is more grateful than he’s ever been for anything in his whole life. The shorts are riding up so high they can’t cover more than a few inches of skin, Type’s smooth, powerful thighs on full display. On the inside of his left thigh, there’s a tiny purple mark peeking out from under the bottom of the shorts. Tharn knows exactly what it is because he was the one who left it there just two days ago when he sucked marks into Type’s thighs for a half-hour before he slung Type’s legs over his shoulders and ate him out until Type was sobbing fat tears and begging Tharn to let him come.

7. pet names series by LokelaniRose - ~50,000 words, explicit - A series of post-episode fics that gives us the sex that the show only hinted at, starting with the shower scene.

Tharn prides himself on his self-control. All his passion and intensity is saved for his music, when he’s safely behind a drum kit and can let it all out. He’s never been as irritated by anyone else as he is by Type and all his playground bullying nonsense. Something about the other boy just shakes something loose inside him, rattles at Tharn’s iron discipline until he has to grit his teeth constantly not to just – what? Kiss him? Kill him? Tharn has enough composure (and pride) to put up a front that’s all smiles and wry amusement, but really he regularly skips between one of two daydreams – twisting Type’s head off or fucking him into the ground.

(Tharn is absolutely not going to admit to the third set of daydreams, of curling up around Type when he’s cold or cheering him on at matches or bringing him home to meet Tharn’s father. Nope, no, definitely not.)

2MOONS SERIES

8. ** The universe where we do not commit reckless, unlubricated buttsex by startledoctopus - Forth/Beam - ~8700 words, explicit - This is a great story about Beam giving in and trying to seduce Forth the same way he seduced all of those girls in his past. This Forth is great, and the story retcons their first time to something far more pleasant for Beam.

   "We're heading into a unit on disorders of the spine and I need to review my basic skeletal and muscular anatomy. But it feels stupid to keep studying these weird-looking diagrams and drawings." None of this was, strictly speaking, factual, but an engineering major wouldn't know any different. Beam gathered up all his bravado, walked behind Forth, and began rucking up his shirts as if this were completely normal.

   "What! I..."

   "Shut up, I need to look at a real back so I know what I'll be looking at as a doctor." Forth let him take the shirts off, glancing back at him several times but giving in meekly to Beam's stern look. Forth shuffled the papers some more.

   "All right. Okay, um...Ah!" Beam smirked at Forth's reaction as he ran his thumbs down the nape of his neck.

9. Good Things Come To by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~4300 words, explicit - Kit gets drunk and reveals more of his feelings for Ming than he probably means to.

"Hmm." Kit closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest. "Ming, Ming, Ming. Do you know your name's a kiss? I'm kissing the air everytime I say 'Ming'!" Kit pops his mouth and it pops Ming's mind a bit. "And then I think about kissing you. Why do you make me think about you so damn much? You're so annoying, Ming. No one's ever..." and Kit leans to the side, almost like he's going to conk out or throw up, only to straighten back up. "... made me this crazy."

Oh shit. Ming doesn't know what to do with all of this information. He knew somewhere deep down that Kit likes him. Kit's eyes can't lie. Kit's mouth can't either, the cusses coming out whenever he's keyed up and flustered, and then there are his kisses.

10 + 11. ** how to fail flirt your way into his heart (a guide by Kit) and a little conversation (and a little action please) by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~30,000 words, explicit in the second part - This story makes a tiny plot divergence. It has Kit put a little more effort into finding out if Ming is really into Yo and then from there, it loosely follows the plot of the show with some key differences. I really enjoyed this.

"Can I have your number?" Kit mentally face-palms. Why? Damn Pha. Damn Beam. Just damn everything, ugh. He has never flirted in his life. Pin asked him out, okay? He doesn't know how to do this. "I'm Kit, Phana's friend," he says, trying to make it less weird.

"I'm Ming. And of course, P'Kit!" Ming flashes him an easy grin and holds out his hand.

Oh right, the phone. Kit shoves it at Ming, nearly hitting him in the chest. Great, he's acing this.

Ming smiles at him, bemused or confused, probably both, and brushes his hand, totally unnecessarily, over the back of Kit's hand as he takes the phone. "In case of emergency, right?" Ming looks up at him from under his lashes and boy, this nong is brazen.

12. ** In Control series by LokelaniRose - Ming/Kit - ~27,000 words, explicit - Kit struggles to tell Ming that he wants something other than the careful, gentle sex they’ve been having. Ming discovers that Kit has some anxiety and panic problems. He also discovers what helps him feel better. [spoilers: these two things are connected.] I love how attentive and caring Ming is throughout this series. The anxious Kit also rings true to the character we saw on the show.

But now that Kit is fretting over things, he might as well fret over this as well. So Ming is great in bed. And let’s be honest, Kit probably isn’t. He hasn’t had a hundred previous partners – okay, tiny exaggeration, but still – and doesn’t know all the fancy moves and techniques and tricks…and just like everything else, in bed Ming is somehow casual and sincere at the same time. He never seems to want anything except what Kit wants, is always happy to do whatever, to take his time making slow, gentle love to Kit. Kit knows that he always comes at least – he secretly really likes it when Ming comes, he’s not quite sure why – but what if there’s more that Kit could be doing, to make it better for him? If Kit was better in bed maybe it would make up for being a shitty boyfriend in other areas, one who can’t be nice in public or talk about his feelings.

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

13. another nightmare fic by itsmylifekay - Win/Team - ~2300 words, not rated - Team tries to sleep without Win and it doesn’t go well. 

Team’s room feels suffocating, the air too thick and the space too dark and the covers sticking to his skin with sweat. His breaths are too loud in the quiet, but the quiet itself is deafening. It reminds him of the water. The muted sounds. The frantic pounding of his heart. (The same one he feels now echoed in his chest.)

Flashes of the dream come back to him unbidden.

Everything is too dark, too bright, no way to see what way is up or what way is down. He’s trapped. Can’t get out. Can’t breathe.

14. ** Different With You by blackrose9212 - Win/Team - ~6900 words, teen - It’s open swim week, which means that the swimming club offers free lessons to any of the students who would like to participate. Team doesn’t understand why his teammates hate it so much - until he does. Great jealousy in this one from both sides. 

“Nice to meet you,” the boy gushes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to join your group. Auntie said there needs to be at least three people, and no one was sitting across from you two. I’ve been paying attention so I already have ideas. Is that okay?” Team watches as he pulls out his books and drops them onto the table, pushing them a little farther out so they’re nearly touching Win’s notebook.

Team shrugs. “Sure, that’s fine. I don’t think Win has been paying attention so I’m glad you have an idea of what’s going on.”

Win hits him lightly at the back of the hand and Film giggles behind his hand. “Oh, no, P’Win looks very smart. I’m sure he’s been listening.” He looks at Win and smiles a little, blushing when Win gives him a smile back.

Team looks between the two of them. Then back at Film, who’s watching Win leaf through his literature textbook like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, and then past Film at the table he left from, where he sees three boys, laughing behind their hands and making cooing faces.

15. seven hundred thirteen by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~6800 words, mature - Win spends two years abroad in England, and he and Team have to navigate a long distance relationship. It’s very sweet and written very true to life. 

“I kind of hoped you were going to show up at the airport tomorrow morning and chase the plane,” Win says. He kisses Team’s hair, lingering there to memorize the fresh, clear scent.

Team says, “Is it weird that I thought about doing that?” and Win feels him smile against his shoulder.

It’s late, nearly nine thirty, and Win had plans of how to spend tonight that can’t be realized anymore. He wanted to invite Team to dinner with his family. He wanted to play video games with Team and View. He wanted to talk about London with Waan and Team. He wanted to include Team in his family’s warmth in some small way, to make him feel less lonely.

He can’t do any of that now but he still wants to sneak Team upstairs and have him in his arms all night. He wouldn’t, but he wants to. It’s been a month since he moved off campus permanently, and weeks since he was last able to spend a night alone with Team.

16. ** You Can Cry by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~19,600 words, mature - Win goes missing while on vacation with some friends. Team is left at home trying to handle it. I like the way the author built up to the accident happening. They did a good job creating tension and showing us exactly how Team felt about Win. And spoilers, this story has a happy ending.

“You’re going to fail out of university,” Team tells him. “You’re not really going, are you?”

Win rolls onto his side and perches his cheek on his hand. “What if I say yes?” he asks. “Will you miss me?”

Team’s warning look is more venomous than usual. “Not at all,” Team says, and Win smirks because that isn’t true and they both know it. “You still shouldn’t go. What if you miss the flight back? You’ll fail out and I’ll break up with you for being a dumbass.”

The very recent phenomenon of Team acknowledging that they’re a couple has its usual melting effect on Win’s heart.

2GETHER

17. ** Love Songs on Our Skin series by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~15,700 words, explicit - A soulmark AU where Tine is born with the notes to a song that hasn’t yet been written wrapped around his chest. I enjoyed how Tine’s obliviousness in the show carries over to this fic. 

Only Mr. Chic would have a song no one had ever fucking heard of permanently etched on his chest. For fuck's sake .

Still, he waves it off, and he tries not to look too closely at other people's marks. Tries being the key word. He doesn't envy the elegant watercolors of a guitar pick and an open novel he catches sight of on the wrists of some couple's interlinked hands when he's in town. And he certainly doesn't envy the dude he once saw in a coffee shop with the words " I hate you " scrawled across the back of his neck. But yeah, okay, he might be a little jealous of the people who are lucky enough to have something as simple as their soulmate's name on their skin. That definitely isn't fair.

"Why couldn't it at least have been a Scrubb song?" he asks the mirror as he wipes it clear shower-born condensation. The mirror and him are well acquainted with this conversation by now. In fact, the mirror sees the stupid mark more than anyone, so it might as well put up with his equally stupid questions. "It could have been 'Together.' Just think of it, how romantic it would be to meet some cute girl's eyes after bumping into them at a concert, my favorite song playing . . ." He draws a nail over the winding bars of the music on his chest, frowning. "That would be so much easier."

18. Drown Your Sorrows by HyacinthsSoul - 2gether/Theory of Love - Sarawat and Third meet at a bar and bond over being in love with oblivious men.

“No, he’s an angel,” Sarawat says. “Unfortunately he’s a very stupid, very straight angel.”

“Mine’s stupid too,” the other man admits. “But definitely no angel. I’m Third, by the way,” he adds, offering a slender hand to shake.

“Sarawat,” says Sarawat. “Can I buy you another? I think we’re drinking the same thing, although I can’t remember what it’s called.”

20. ** Your Body Is My Instrument by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~12,000 words, explicit - This fic does a good job doing what, in this reccer’s humble opinion, the series failed to: showing Tine attracted to Sarawat. There’s great first time sex and some fun sexual tension. Plus, we get to see them switch off, which is extremely rare in BL. And most importantly: hand kink.

It starts innocently enough. Or, well, innocently enough for a guy whose first words to him were, “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll kiss you till you drop.” So, you know. It starts kinda like that.

They’ve been officially dating for a grand sum total of three days and altogether not that much has changed. Except that Sarawat touches him more now. Normally this would be fine, no big deal, right? But Sarawat has magic, evil hands, and apparently all he has to do is glance Tine’s way to deduce the exact right places and ways to touch Tine to drive him up the fucking wall.

And the worst part is it’s almost never the same place or the same way twice, and the only warning Tine ever gets is that sneaky little glint Sarawat gets in his eyes just before he does it, the bastard.

MY ENGINEER

21. Cool Boy(friend) by HyacinthsSoul - Ram/King - ~22,000 words, explicit - So this is technically a WIP, but each chapter feels like a completed fic without a cliffhanger or anything. This is a very sweet, comfortable story about King and Ram getting to know each other as their relationship develops.

In the selfie King sends, he’s holding up a full shot glass while someone’s arm reaches into the frame to hand him another kind of drink, something tall with a straw and a paper umbrella. Ram frowns. Whose arm is that? The person is wearing a red long-sleeved shirt, which doesn’t match what any of their friend group was wearing, and the engineer bar doesn’t offer table service.

Frowning, Ram looks back through the previous photos until he spots a detail he’d overlooked before: a red-shirted man at a neighboring table. He’s visible in the background of two or three pictures taken by Tee, and in each of them he’s staring intently at King.

Not that it’s any of Ram’s business. Not that he cares.

HISTORY3: TRAPPED

22. it’s too late (to turn back now) by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~7200 words, general audiences - Canon divergence fic where Tang Yi pushes Shao Fei away after he saves Hong Ye in order to try and protect him. Shao Fei reacts to that about as well as you’d expect.

“Tang Yi, what do you mean-“

“I think you’ve fooled around for long enough,” Tang Yi interrupts, his voice cold, nothing like the man who had dabbed at his lips with a cotton bud last night, the man who had smiled at him when he made the cannon joke.

“You’ve disrupted my life, and the life of my family and friends in the past few weeks, Meng Shao Fei. This has gone for long enough,” he continues, unwavering. “I don’t want to have anything more to do with you. Take a good rest here in the hospital, and I’ll get someone to pack up your things back at the house. Jack will deliver it back to your apartment.”

23 + 24. ** just waiting, waiting (on you) and between you and me by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~16,000 words, general audiences - These are stories about how Shao Fei and the rest of the gang deal over the years when Tang Yi is in jail. Found family fics are my jam, so I loved this.

The thing is, it’s been almost three months of this. 90 days, give or take. 2,160 hours. 129,600 minutes. And more than 7 million seconds of this — not having Tang Yi at his side.

Shao Fei wonders for a moment if he will ever stop seeing Tang Yi in every corner of the house. When he comes down the stairs in the morning, some part of him expects to see Tang Yi standing at the kitchen island with a bright smile, asking him if he wants jam with his toast that morning. Shao Fei sees Tang Yi in that apron he loves, cooking at the stove when he fixes himself dinner, alone in the spacious kitchen. Seeing Tang Yi’s favourite blue bathrobe, Shao Fei can almost see Tang Yi leaving the bathroom, his hair all wet and falling over his eyes.

25. amuse bouche by sarahyyy - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~2400 words, general audiences - This is more of Jack seducing Zhao Zi through food and attention. So basically an extension of the show. Mother hen Jack is the cutest.

“Jack?” Zhao Zi murmurs blearily. “Why are you here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Jack shoots back, herding Zhao Zi back into the house. He checks for Zhao Zi’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Fever?”

“Just the flu for now, I think?” Zhao Zi says.

Jack purses his lips. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I had some bread earlier?” Zhao Zi says, but he also looks shifty enough that Jack mostly takes it with a grain of salt.

26. Absolutely Nothing Goes Wrong by anon - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~4500 words, teen - This is an AU where Zhao Zi is the son of a rival mob boss, but he’s still, you know HIMSELF. And when his father says he’s useless, he decides to prove him wrong by seducing Tang Yi’s second-in-command. It’s absolutely adorable.

The man pulled him by the arm, resisting Zhao Zi’s attempts to unhook his claws without causing a scene.

“Hey, stop grabbing me!” he shouted, as the other man played deaf.

“While I admit this is a very loud bar, I didn’t think it was quite so easy to mishear what this young man just yelled straight into your ear,” a newcomer who’d witnessed their conflict said lightly as he walked up to them. His words were accompanied by a wide, almost chilling smile. Zhao Zi blinked once and the odd peculiarity of that smile vanished, leaving just a regular smile in its place. He must’ve just been imagining things under the harsh shadows of the dimly lit bar.

AND +2

Because I’m shameless, I’ll add my own two fics to the end, if you’re interested.

WHY R U?

27. Sorry A Thousand Times - Fighter/Tutor - ~3200 words, explicit - This is a canon divergence for the series finale. I needed more catharsis after the intensity of episode 12.

Tutor narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you listen?” he asked. I don’t know how many more times I can bring myself to say it.

“Only once,” Fight said and then added, “if you mean it.”

Tutor crossed his arms over his chest and said, “What makes you think I don’t mean it now?”

The corner of Fight’s mouth turned up and he took a step closer. Tutor stumbled back until he was stopped by his legs hitting the edge of the bed. Fight reached out a hand and gently ran the back of his fingers over the line of Tutor’s jaw.

Until We Meet Again

28. Dream On - Win/Team - 8900 words, explicit - Takes place alongside show canon, so that we see how the bed sharing began and how Win and Team’s relationship developed over that year.

“Do you want to do well tomorrow?” Win asked, throwing one of his legs over both of Team’s.

“Yes,” Team said as he did his best to put some space between them on the tiny mattress.

“Then you need to get some sleep. I’m helping.”

“How is this helping?” Team demanded.

“Would you stop…” Win said, shifting closer every time Team pulled away. “Five minutes, Team. Just be still for five minutes, okay?”

[corpsentry]

behind the taylor swift gundam was in fact another, smaller gundam: a brief inquiry into the events of june 2020

so back in june this year june and i got together and we made this motherfucker of a story with this motherfucker of a thread to keep track of it all. but you already know that! and i’ve already got one foot and three elbows in my grave, so i’ll spare you the long-winded stuff. you wanna know how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks? i’ll tell you how i wrote 93,035 words in 4 weeks-

-by linking you guys to copies of my planning documents because i feel like those words speak louder than any words i can offer in the present day. these are long documents. but they are also historical artifacts. very interesting. very weird. very, uh, full of cussing. so anyway, here’s

BIG DADDY: THE ORIGINAL PLANNING DOCUMENT

for those, like me, who have no motivation left in life to do anything and rely on summaries from others to acquire new knowledge, it all started with a single line.

prince of a fallen kingdom atsumu tries to kill hinata but falls in love with him instead

june, april something, 2020

with that in mind i tested the concept out with a few paragraphs of text, which you can find at the bottom of the Big Daddy document in the graveyard segment, accidentally sold my soul to the image of hinata with epaulettes, and then worked backwards, structuring an entire plot around two images:

a) hinata getting the shit beat out of him, with snark b) hinata and atsumu dancing in an empty ballroom under the stars

if you want a betrayal, you have to have something worth losing. if you want to fall in love with someone you don’t know, you have to meet them. if you have to meet them, there has to be a reason for that meeting, and so somewhere in between atsumu became a sword instructor and hinata the prince with daddy issues. june and i used this method of glancing anxiously over your shoulder to see what you’d missed to fill out the blanks in the story, after which i tacked up a bunch of post-its, typed out the plot, consulted june, typed out the plot again, and then broke the characters down into a bunch of questions, like ‘what do they want?’ and ‘what do they have?’ and ‘what are they afraid of?’

with the plot more or less ironed out, i decided it was time to start writing, and then i decided that i was actually too scared to start writing after all, so instead i set a couple of timers using classroomtimers.com (15-20 minutes long) and i sat down and i wrote about the world that hinata and atsumu inhabited.

each warm-up was 300-500 words long, and for the first few days, i’d write one before getting into writing the story proper. later these evolved into simply picking a scene from the story and launching straight into it, which became useful for opening those scenes later when i got to them organically.

then i got lazy! so i stopped. but these shitty little exercises were really useful for me because, unfettered by plot, convention, or any kind of tradition hovering over my shoulder, i was able to fuck around loosely enough to realize what i wanted this story to be. it was a very contrived kind of trial-and-error, an exploration of the characters, the story, but most importantly, the tone.

RESEARCH, PLANNING, AND VICTORIAN BOUGIE FASHION

this is a loose map of the castle and Important Locations within it, which i drew up at the start so i could keep track of where everything was and how i could get my characters from point A to point B. i wanted the story to have Some kind of internal logic, you know, even if that logic amounted to ‘a compass would function normally in this world whereas kageyama tobio would not’.

99% of my planning and organizing within those five weeks took place in this lovely dotted cat journal which my sister gave me for my birthday and i repurposed into a metaphorical Diary of Suffering while working on juno. i used it for everything from keeping track of narrative threads to clothing consistency checks, but the main purpose was this: each day at about 10 pm i’d crack open the cat book to a fresh page, stamp the date and the day of suffering at the top, and then write down a list of things i wanted to write, address, or fix today. then i’d sit at my laptop and write like a madman until about 7 in the morning. with breaks, of course, for sitting in the bathroom and staring at the wall and sitting in the kitchen and staring at the wall, but mostly i was writing. and complaining about writing. you were there, you probably remember that.

anyway, here are some pages from the cat book.

aside from the fact that my handwriting is complete shit, you can see that i made zero effort for any of this to be presentable. it was mainly a way for me to keep track of my thoughts because i have the attention span of an ikea wardrobe and tend to forget things as soon as i think of them. the lack of structure also mirrored the way that i went about writing juno. while i did proceed, for the most part, in chronological order, i had a lot of weird and useless revelations during lunch, which by this point was happening around 2 am, and in the 5 minutes before the exhaustion finally hit and carried me down to hell. i changed A Lot. again, to understand exactly how much the story evolved from day one onwards, please consult the big daddy document.

in the meantime, here’s something else.

once june sent over hinata and atsumu’s character designs i sat down like the fucking fool i am and spent 2 hours poring over a document about victorian and other fashion movements of the past so i could assign a noun, adjective, and verb to each element of their outfits. i don’t know why i did this. i certainly could have not, but i attempted to make sense of their ‘fits from a logistical perspective and that went into the cat book too. everything went into the cat book. the cat book is a relic of the past now, stuffed with artifacts such as the birth of oikawa tooru, and also his demise.

MEDIUM DADDY: EDITING, PROOFREADING, AND CREEPY MURDER CATS

i finished writing on june 26th, 2020, approximately a month after i’d first started planning, somewhere around may 27th or 28th. at that point i had about 90,000 words’ worth of story and no sanity left whatsoever, so i took a day-long break to stare at a wall and listen to taylor swift’s enchanted on loop.

and then i made a new document, which you can look at using the link above, and i laid out everything i had to do. i’d discovered a fuck ton of plot inconsistencies and general errors while writing and lying awake in bed at 9 a.m., sleepless in seattle, and now that i was free of the demon egging me towards the first finish line, it was time to Deal with them. i speed-scrolled through the draft, which was 200+ pages compressed into one google doc, because i like to tempt god’s wrath, and fixed up all the plot issues over the course of a few days. this was the fun part.

the actual, hard editing was the extremely un-fun part. i reread the entire thing, paragraph by paragraph, line by damn line, from start to finish, paying especially close attention to awkward phrasing, incomplete dialogue, and moments which had fallen flat in my haste to get on to the next one. this was really fucking terrible. i spent more time lying facedown on the floor than actually editing anything, but after a long time (about a week), that, too was done.

SMALL DADDY: TITLES, SUMMARIES, AND GOOD FUCKING BYES

i spent a good eighty days thinking about the title, though hilariously enough we ended up with something that was a blend of our names. june + elmo = juno, which is, all things considered, pretty perfect, but the process of picking the title was Hell, and i Did Not Come Up With The Title until about 2 hours before posting. you can take a look at the haphazard clusterfuck of my title-selecting process in small daddy, which is linked above.

so the title was a last-minute choice. so was the summary. and the chapter divisions. and actually all the songs in the playlist for juno. the day we dropped juno onto planet earth like a newborn baby pitched out of the sky, i spent an hour hunched over my laptop, cutting my 213 page google doc into chapters based on nothing more than a Vibe. two days before that, i also attempted to voice-act the entirety of juno, an affair which ended at the 20,000 word mark with a sore throat and the kind of exhaustion one typically wants to sleep in a coffin for 23 years to get rid of. so in all honesty, i did very little editing, which is why there are definitely minor typos and/or mistakes hanging out somewhere on that chunky ao3 webpage. but whatever.

my attitude by july 5th (was it july 5th? or 4th? somewhere around there) was basically whatever. anything so i could get finish this damn thing, chuck it out of the window, and never see another google doc until the next century. i’ve been asked a few times how exactly i wrote at a rate of roughly 2000-3000 words per day for four weeks straight, and my answer has always been this: i died. what died, you ask? my soul. my spirit. my Will To Live. i’m a creature of fixations, and juno was my fixation for june. will i ever be able to do this again? would i recommend this experience to anyone? is god real? the answer to all of the above is probably no. juno was a fever dream, and so is my cat book. and so are all the lattes i had. and so was my 9 am to 4 pm sleep schedule.

but what we made is real. the research, oikawa tooru, the 4 am conversations in which i was like ‘how the fuck do i end this’ and june was like ‘jade proposal’ (the proposal was her idea. all rise for twitter user atsuhinas. she is the mastermind behind all of the Inch Resting moments in this story; i just flapped a korok leaf in her direction and made sure the air circulation was working properly) are real as fuck, and looking back, there’s a lot i’d change, but i’m lazy. and college is starting. and anyway, i did write 93,035 words in just under five weeks, four if you don’t count the week of Editing Hell, so i think that’s pretty cool.

thank you for reading this to the end, and for following us on our journey through the enigmatic taylor swift gundam fic which quite literally consumed my entire twitter account for the five weeks i spent working on it. retrospectively speaking i really was butt-obsessed so i am frankly incredibly impressed with everyone around me for putting up with a Husk of a Man for a month. thank you for doing that. thank you for indulging my vague tweeting, and our butterfly dns, and for reading 93 thousand words of gay fanfiction set in a high fantasy world with epaulettes and galettes. on behalf of june, once again, we are incredibly grateful for all your support.

if you have any questions about specific aspects of the writing process, or anything you’d like to know in general with reference to JUNO, feel free to drop me an ask through my tumblr inbox, or through my curiouscat over here. i’m aware i didn’t cover everything, but there’s frankly too much to put in a tumblr post without passing away somewhere around the 56% mark, so let me know what’s on your mind, and i’ll try to answer that to the best of my abilities. but anyway, before i go, here are some

TAKEAWAYS

one: don’t try to write 93,000 words in five weeks. seriously don’t fucking do it you will end up jittery and sleep-deprived and you will leave all your friends on read for a month. pace yourself. set realistic goals. you wrote 2k this week? that’s fantastic. you wrote 4k in a day? you absolute motherfucker. i hope you’re taking a long fucking break tomorrow. your story will not run away from you, but if you run too fast, you will get tired, and then you will pass away.

two: you don’t have to know everything about your story before you start writing. in fact if you have a single camera shot of two characters holding hands under a rose garden awning, i think that’s fucking wonderful. if you look at big daddy, you’ll realize that my initial plot draft, and all the ones following that, are not perfectly aligned with the final version of juno. i improvised over half of the scenes in this motherfucker, and to be completely honest, some of the improvised scenes were the best. fucking oikawa tooru was improvised out of nowhere. he only got written in way later, around chapter 8 or something, because i realized i needed a plot device and a source of information to keep the playing table from toppling over. i Sat Down one day and was like ‘okay, it’s time to write oikawa into the introduction. because he matters now. he didn’t matter last week but now he does, and soon he’s going to be the fulcrum of the entire story, because it’s like that with oikawa tooru’. it’s okay to change your mind halfway. it’s okay to go back and rewrite entire scenes or segments. it’s okay to highlight 4 pages of fresh, sentimental writing, and hit delete. writing is a fluid process, and you Will make discoveries as you progress through your story alongside your characters. be understanding of that iterative process. be kind to yourself.

three: You Are That Motherfucker. you, me, your dog, your dog’s friend, your dog’s enemy, all of us are that motherfucker. i never thought i’d be able to write anything longer than the great big map, which was a much simpler, linear story in which the other main character did not appear in the current timeline until like the eighth chapter. juno was different. juno was the motherfucker, and i was scared shitless of it, and to cope with that fear joked constantly while writing that it’d never see the light of day.

but it did. it was a rocky process, and i was awake for 48 hours after posting it because of the sheer adrenalin stuck in my skull, but i got through it. and i wouldn’t have been able to do it without june, who stepped in when i flopped over facedown on the floor and dragged me to my feet like the badass friend she is, and without everyone else in my life, who put up with me talking about The Thing that i couldn’t really talk about, but juno’s up there now. forever, or until the internet collapses and civilization goes extinct. and if the nineteen year old clown with the attention span of an ikea armchair and an a level certificate from hell wrote the 93,000 word long thing, so can you. i mean this completely unironically and with every ounce of genuine emotion i can summon from the cracked asshole of my heart.

writing is hard. writing is scary. writing is an investigation of the world around you and therefore, by extension, yourself, and that kind of honesty is freaky. it’s like going skinny-dipping next to the president’s mansion. who’s going to see you? what if they take a photo? what if you lose your spot at university?

but don’t think about that. our world is overrun with stories the way cereal bowls are full of cereal, but it’s those stories that keep us all sane in the disgusting day-to-day muck of reality, so think about your story. what’s haunting you today? what message do you want to leave printed in font size 666 comic sans across the southern hemisphere of the planet? what will you be tomorrow?

a writer. you’re going to be a motherfucking writer.

[darkmacademia]

hi! this is a stupid question but anyway. i’m doing my alevels (uk) so going to uni next sept. i’ve got my actual exams next summer too. the thing is, i rly want to do well and go to a good uni and my teachers have told me it’s possible. but the problem is i just can’t like study. i’ve bought books for extra reading and i told myself to watch ted talks and to write up study notes but i just can’t seem to motivate myself to actually do it. i know i’ll regret it if i don’t but i still can’t (1)

(2) find the motivation to knuckle down and study. i even wake up early and i still am not nearly as productive as i should be. i’m just tired when i come back from school so it’s easier to just watch netflix then read a book. do you have any advice/tips because i could really do with some!!! thank you so much. p.s. your blog is amazing and it makes me rly happy when i see your posts on my dash!

[long post]

Thanks for the question, it’s not stupid at all! Sorry to hear you’re struggling with studying, it can be a very stressful time. I’m not super qualified to give advice but I’m gonna try anyway! I’ll relate the tips to myself if you don’t mind, just for context. (For reference, I finished Australian VCE in November 2018)

Usually when you’re struggling with something that is totally in your power to do but you just Can’t, it might not be due to the actual task, but something about it or adjacent to it that is stopping you, e.g. fear of failure, wrong studying techniques, etc. Maybe try and analyse what exactly is stopping you? For example, when I was really struggling with writing practice essays for English (like i wrote Nothing, ever), I found that it was because I didn’t like sitting alone trying to push out ideas onto a blank page, it was just suuuper boring for me. 

So instead, I grabbed my friend and we sat for hours just chatting (and sometimes arguing very passionately) about the text and occasionally jotting down ideas to write about later. This made me actually passionate about my ideas and enjoy the work rather than it being a chore. It wasn’t because I couldn’t write essays, but because the way I went about it before didn’t work for me. (I ended up doing really well in the exam even though I started the year doing zero work). This is sort of vague advice, but if you want to chat more, feel free to send a chat message. I’d be more than happy to talk!

But for more concrete tips, these are some that I’ve found work for me personally:

1) Making it less effort to start: sometimes we don’t want to study because that involves getting out notes, setting up stationary, chargers, text books, waiting for the planets to align, etc. So what I did was make it as easy as possible to just get right into it. I’d organise my supplies on my desk so I could literally just sit down and start. That initial hesitation can set you back, especially when you don’t want to do the thing.

2) Studying with friends: this might not be practical for everyone, but I personally find it terribly difficult to motivate myself when studying alone. Find some similar-minded friends and just sit together and study. It helped me a lot to know that I wasn’t the only one suffering lmao. This leads onto the next point:

3) Pomodoro sessions: a common study technique is splitting up your time into 25+5 minute blocks, as it’s not as daunting as sitting down and telling yourself you’ll study for 2 hours straight. Especially if you’re with friends, you’re rewarded with those 5 minutes of relaxing, chatting, getting a drink, so it doesn’t seem like hours and hours of hell. (No joke, this video was my favourite video of 2018, she’s amazing). My classmates and I would find a quiet table, put that video on and just work in silence for 25 minutes, which is actually a lot less time than you think.

4) Studying is hard, but doesn’t have to be complete agony for you to do well: something I learnt during the HOURS of tediously making 500+ A3 pages in my visual diaries (I counted) for my two art subjects. Yes, doing well isn’t easy, but success is NOT synonymous with pain. Yes, you’ll have to do those equations somehow, but grab a hot drink, play some music, put on a cute outfit (idk why this helps, it just does), study with friends. Learning is meant to be fun, don’t let study get in the way of that. 

5) You can’t do everything at once: ever get overwhelmed with the size of the task? I got super scared at all the Chinese stuff I had to memorise and it totally shut me down for weeks. I had to remember that I physically could not do all of it at once, so I stopped trying. I broke everything down into weekly/daily tasks that I could manage short-term. The sheer pressure itself was stopping me from working, not the tasks themselves.

6) This is for the more extreme scenarios, but lock your social media: my friend @acastemia and I legit couldn’t stay off our social media during Year 12, so we got the other to change the passwords for all our accounts and not let each other have them until we proved that we did the work for that week. Obviously a dramatic move, but dear god it helped in those final months ahaha

7) Other random stuff that might work: this app for staying off phones, this app for getting better sleep, cleaning your desk - seeing a clear space helps clear ur mind I guess?? Studying in different environments - alternating between cafes, libraries, parks, at home. 

Whoops this is super long but I hope that helps somewhat! Please please message me further if you have more questions, I’m very passionate about navigating the hellscape that is the education system and want to see everyone do well ! Best of luck, I’d love to hear how you go in the future. xx

[dojaeism-archived]

OMG I AM SO SORRY I tend to talk so much, you might be writing more because of that :( I can't promise short length but I'll try to restrict my fingers from typing out too much (she says as she types this nonsense that uses a bajillion words already 💔) I've been looking after myself, don't worry~ there's just a lot to do as both my parents work and my elder sister and I mostly try to manage our younger siblings and stuff haha Ah, I get that; glad to know you still like doing it! - ❄️

sorry for taking so long to respond omgg but hi!!!

asfhgjsadkj I'm no one to get excited over T^T the ones I am currently mostly active on are 2 out of ig 5-6 blogs? I rarely post on main but you'll see me do something once every blue moon haha Ooh what do you like cooking most then? I make cheesecake myself at home from yogurt instead of cream cheese and it's very light so I can easily eat a slice ^^ I don't like sweets much so it's rare I even have something that isn't on the more bitter or tart side (even then very picky hehe) - ❄️

Quiche is definitely something you should try; it's basically a savoury pie! Stews are awesome too; if you're a person who likes deep flavours but not in watery form (e.g soups, broths) like me, then that's the perfect option as it's consistency is gravy-like and packs a punch Lol they put zero effort in even trying to know their way around the kitchen so when they're forced to do so in the future, they'll definitely get the hang of it :) - ❄️

haha I'm the kind of person who disappears for days/weeks and then mass produces gifs when they return (as explicitly told by my friend) but I quite enjoy it (*^w^) I think giffing for 1-2 groups specifically made me use so much time that I rarely gif others unless I have the time to; but I do wanna try to gif exo more... I gif txt and stray kids! (and some others on and off on my multi blog) - ❄️

I look forward to becoming friends with you too~ haha merci beaucoup; je fais de mon mieux! Those two were like the only games I liked (the puzzle parts though, not much of the fighting Lol) OOF that's a lot, I hope you didn't lose too much sleep for that! Thank you, good luck with your classes and I hope this year passes by nicely for you (also I deeply apologise because I said I wouldn't talk too much but I'm kinda sure I surpassed the normal word limit 😶) - ❄️

please don’t apologise for talking too much omg i love love hearing what you have to say!! you’re always welcome to send as many asks as you’d like hehe and im glad to hear that you’re taking care of yourself!

jkfgnkjfg i know what u mean, i have like 6 sideblogs and i am allllll over the place for all of them LOL either way, im excited to find out who you are!!!

i don’t think i really have a favourite dish, cooking still isn’t my thing tbh i’d rather eat than cook 😭 i only did it bc my parents were like “u gotta show us what u learnt all this time away at uni” and i was like “omg.. here eat this! now leave me alone!” LMAO but its interesting that you make cheesecake from yoghurt :0 i might try that to see if it turns out better!!!! quiche sounds nice! its kinda hard to get stuff like that and pie/stews etc here bc its not very common so i’ll have to see :0

ohh i get u!!!! when i initially started giffing i’d do it for like 6/7 hours a day no kidding, i literally just sat there and giffed all day (to the point where i had a permanent cramp in my hand) but now im like hmm here’s a gifset once a year maybe haha but i almost exclusively only gif jaehyun lol its kinda tragic 😭 im currently trying to gif more people on my sideblogs bc i’ve always wanted to gif them but the jaehyun tunnel vision is so real 😩 its so ironic that chanyeol is my ult but i have never giffed him ever in my life LMFAOOO i really gotta change that….. but omg i love stray kids!! well i solo stan felix actually but they’re all cute!! id love to get into giffing them!!! i don’t really know txt though, but people are always saying lots of lovely things abt them hehe

omg im the opposite! i hate the boring story bits of games lol i always just skip to the fighting bit… idk how familiar you are w genshin but they have like story quests right and i generally just ignore everything and just go around looking for people to fight lmaoo

thank you! its kinda crazy bc i slept like 4 hours the past 3 days but its the weekend now so im gonna catch up on some sleep hehe i hope you’re staying warm (if its cold where you are) and remember to drink lots of water & stay safe!! also its always always okay for you to send in as many asks as you like, i love talking to you 🥰

[xxairo-dev]

Next Log

So I started making a 2D pixel art game. Welcome to my new Dev blog!

No official name, but the unofficial name is Bowfish.

(TLDR and Dev log with pretty gifs at bottom)

Hello internet, friends, and 2020 -- those of you that have been following me all this time know that I’ve been doing art for a loooong time. Even before I got into digital art in 2010, I’ve been drawing with paper and pencil for as long as I can remember and probably started playing video games right at the same time. For reference, my earliest memories of video games consist of Lemmings 3D on PS1, followed shortly by Rayman and Spyro the Dragon. 

I’m still a big Spyro fan, also pretty sure this is how I became obsessed with dragons in general. 

Science based dragon MMO girl, wherever you are -- I feel you, I am you.

Basically, I’ve been playing video games all my life (to the detriment of my parents) and I owe it to gaming for igniting my early artistic ambitions. In fact, I remember learning how to draw by copying the character art of Neopets and Sonic Advance before one day stumbling upon one of my dad’s Game Informer magazines and being blown away by the art that I saw in there (particularly the WoW art). I’m pretty sure that was when I was first introduced to Big Boy™ game art and instantly thought, “Whoa, I want to be able to draw like that”.

Later, when I got my first drawing tablet and started making digital art, it became “I want to draw for a video game”.

Even later, when I learned that being a video game artist was not a very realistic career path and opted to pursue a bachelors degree in biology instead of art, it became “I want to draw for a video game... on the side”.

Even later-er, when I got my degree in 2017 and started working full-time and realized that work saps you of all energy and motivation to work on projects at home, it became “I want to draw for a video game... some day”. 

Well, today here we are in 2020 amid the COVID-19 pandemic. In March, I got furloughed from my biology job due to the quarantine. I spent four months passing time, thinking that I’d go back to work soon. But by the end of July, I was at wit’s end of what to do with myself after getting burnt out on a number of hobbies, games, shows, books, etc. without spiraling into some very expensive hobbies (hello aquariums) with the money I wasn’t making. I badly needed to find something productive to do that I thought would also benefit me in the long run i.e. post-quarantine, and unfortunately I couldn’t work on wet lab techniques at home.

“Learn to code” is what my parents have said to me about a thousand times for the past 5 years. “Learn to code” is what I did try for about two weeks with Code Academy a few years ago before realizing that none of what I was learning was going to stick because I wasn’t programming in any part of my daily life. As a biologist, in evolution we like to call this “if you don’t use it, you lose it”. 

I know all too well about how coding is one of the best skills you can learn. However, I also know myself all too well to know that learning code for the sake of learning code wasn’t going to work for me. I wanted to wait to learn when the right situation presented itself, ideally when I would have an opportunity to use it almost every day at like a job or something.

Well, one of my good fellow artist (and biology) friends had recently taken the plunge into creating his first video game Meganura earlier in the year. I was (and still am) seriously -- and I cannot emphasize this enough -- impressed by his progress, dedication, and ability to learn coding for this game. Or more frankly, I was seriously impressed by his dedication and progress in to learning how to code for this game.

Meganura in all it’s crispy pixel-y goodness. Man, my friends are talented.

I dwelled on this for a while. 

I always considered making a game to be out-of-reach because I absolutely could not muster up the motivation to learn a single drop of code without being paid to do so after 1) being beaten over the head by “learn how to code” for so long and 2) having already tried and given up in the past. 

But as it got harder to sleep well, eat well, and feel happy during the quarantine, I feel like I hit a rock bottom where I felt like if I didn’t make a big effort to find a new purpose, then I was probably going to become depressed. To preface this, I have experienced depression before, and ever since I got out it has been my goal in life to never experience it again. 

The only way I was going to survive this quarantine was to give myself a new “job”.

I already had a creative mind and the skills to create art and animations for a game. I already had a lifetime of game playing experience that had formed a detailed list of specific mechanics and visual details that I knew I wanted or didn’t want in a game. I already had an analytical and detail-oriented mind (thanks biology... or thanks videogames?) that liked to plan and build things. 

All it would take is just a little bit of code...

If you’ve read this far, thanks for listening and I hope some of you hear yourselves in my story.

TLDR;

I am just a daytime biologist and hobby digital artist with zero coding experience.

I’m extremely proud to say that since 07/29/20, I have been successfully developing and coding my own 2D pixel art video game in Unity and am in full swing!

This is the start of my dev blog, where I’ll be logging my progress and thoughts throughout this journey for like-minded and aspiring individuals. 

My Goals:

- To create everything from scratch -- art, scripts, etc.

- To create a game about bow hunting with intuitive drag/release controls

- To create a game that has cooking and campfires

- To create a game with pretty water graphics

- To create a game that has sushi and cats

- To have a playable demo by mid 2021 (my guess for the end of quarantine)

How I’ve been learning C#:

I have been following along with YouTube tutorials to create a base script and then looking up things in Unity’s scripting documentation to expand and modify my code to achieve exactly what I want. I’ve been learning C# and how to read documentation through almost entirely pattern recognition (e.g. mimicking and experimenting with code I’ve copied from tutorials and recognizing keywords in documentation) and turning to Google or my Tech Career Peers™ for help when I get stuck or to clarify things.

The key thing is that even after copying some code, I read the documentation and figure out how every line of code in my script works before moving on.

This is because after spending a few days of looking up YouTube tutorials, I realized there were no tutorials for the exact bow controls that I wanted. Instead, I ended up watching multiple tutorials and learned how all of their scripts worked before combining and modifying pieces together. Then, I started relying entirely on documentation to write lines of code. 

I don’t know how many original lines of code I’ve written so far, but there are so many now and I am so proud of all of them.

So anyway, here’s what’s happened over the past 2-3 weeks.

Dev Log:

7/29/20

- Came up with an idea for a game

7/30/20

- Installed Unity and started watching Unity tutorial videos

7/31/20 

- Created water shader via shader graph (no coding required!)

- Created a basic background, player sprite, bow sprite, and arrow sprite in Photoshop

08/03/20

- First time coding in C#

- Struggle to code in Notepad++, switched to Visual Studio Code

08/06/20

- Created physics based slingshot controls for the bow and arrow with a line renderer bowstring

- Colliders!

08/09/20

- Unable to find a way to pull arrow back horizontally (-X) regardless of mouse Y movement (OnMouseDown)

- Decided that slingshot controls are for slingshots, not bows and arrows

- Scrapped physics based slingshot controls due to overcomplication (rip)

08/10/20

- Created new projectile based controls that still include drag/shoot physics

08/11/20

- Limited rotation of the bow while aiming to max 45° and min -45°

- Developed distaste for vector algebra

- Made it so that if you don’t drag far enough, you won’t release an arrow

08/12/20

- Created a trajectory line coming off the bow

- Made arrows fade away after colliding

- Created git repository to keep all project files backed up on github (Don’t wait to do this! Should’ve been done on day 1)

08/14/20

- Added physics and collider to player

- Allow you to face and move left/right with the A and D keys + updated bow controls to match

- Created left/right movement while aiming + updated bow controls to match

- Created mouse drag line for development use

- Created waterline

- Made it so the bow resets to it’s default position if you haven’t used the bow for over 2 seconds

08/15/20

- Updated Player sprite in Photoshop

- Obtained Asesprite

- Created walk animation

08/16/20

- Created  bow walk, bow equip, and bow unequip animations

Next Log

[queenmylovely]

The Fourth Stage

Summary: Gardner langway x fem!reader. Gardner meets someone new along his route. 

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, depression, angst, cussing 

A/N: This is what I wrote for my first request. It’s much darker than anything I’ve ever wrote but I tried to be as true to the request and grief as I could. Also it’s in kind of a headcanon format but it’s over 7k words so idk. I hope you like what I wrote, and any feedback including likes, replies, and reblog are greatly appreciated!

Request: Something where Gardner falls for a PoC woman who’s emotionally broken

Disclaimer: I am not Black nor do I claim to know or understand the experience of Black people or Black women specifically. I was requested to write this by an anon that requested something with a PoC woman. I welcome constructive criticism for any part of my characterization of Reader. (I will not be accepting and will delete and block any racist hate.)

Masterlist 

☆☆☆

You moved into your dad’s house in May, a month after he died.

It was a sudden heart attack at work, but apparently your dad had a will, so you inherited his house. Because you wanted to keep it in good condition and didn’t have anything tying you to your current place, you moved.

You hadn’t done anything with his things so all of your boxes were piled into the garage and you lived with his stuff instead.

His death had wrecked you, and you had quit your stupid summer job because doing anything but laying down seemed impossible.

While he hadn’t been a rich man, he had left enough money that this was possible for summer; something that you would have thought was lucky if the thought of anything related to his death being lucky didn’t make you sick.

You spent all day everyday in your bed, maybe making it to the kitchen once or twice but only for saltines and peanut butter out of the jar or a can of cold chili.

The highlight of your day, if you could call it that, was taking the hottest shower you could, in an effort to feel something other than the dull ache that was knowing your dad was dead.

But all it did was leave your skin dry and stinging, the slight pain only making you feel worse because you knew it was nothing compared to what your dad had felt.

Your mom called once a week, but since you had been raised by your dad after their divorce, she had little to say and you sat silent while she tried to think of things that would cause any reaction in you other than a grunt or sigh.

About a week after you moved in, as you’re laying in bed, eyes closed but sleep never reaching you, you hear something that you had noticed the day before.

It was the sound of footsteps approaching your door followed by a metal creak and then footsteps retreating again.

Most of the time, you were too lost in your head to notice the outside world, but it just so happened that yesterday you were walking to your kitchen when it had happened and when the sound repeated itself today, you took notice.

The next day, without realizing you had been waiting for it, you heard the sound again.

After it repeated the following day, you looked at the clock, reading 3:25pm.

On the fifth day you realized it must be the sound of the mail deliverer because when you collected the mail that night at 2:00am, the mailbox made the same creaking sound.

Soon, it became a comfort to hear that sound because of how consistent it was. Part of you wondered how the mail carrier was so exact with their timing, but for the most part you didn’t really care.

Three weeks later you found yourself moving from your bed to the couch around 3:00pm and you didn’t really know why until you heard the sound. It was louder since the door wasn’t separated by any walls.

When 3:24pm rolled around everyday, you held your breath in anticipation, letting it out as soon as you heard the steps coming up the walk.

Another week later, you moved from the couch at 3:15pm, sitting against the door with a blanket until you heard the sound.

From this position, you could hear the person’s fingers against the paper of the envelopes as they grabbed them from the bag.

The next day you jump when the person coughed as they walked away; it was the first sound that really affirmed to you that it was another person outside the door.

Three days later the person sneezed just after the metal creak and you realized it was a guy.

You whispered, “Bless you” out of habit, though you knew that he would never know you said it.

Three days later, it wasn’t enough. Hearing his breathing and coughing and sneezing everyday was both too much and not enough to hear from this person you had never seen before.

You needed to make sure this person was real. Needed to know it wasn’t just the ghost of your own mind or a side effect of only sleeping in hour intervals and eating just twice a day on good days.

So, on a random Tuesday, you stood up at 3:23pm, swaying a bit from the head-rush that you got and tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating as you waited for two excruciating minutes.

When you heard the footsteps, but before the metal creak, you opened the door quickly, startling the person on your front step. He’s holding your mail in one hand and your eyes zeroed in on that and you reached out, grabbing the letters from him.

You closed the door just as fast but made sure it closed softly before dropping the mail on the floor and running back to your room.

Gardner stood on your front step, a little dumbfounded by what had just happened.

A couple of customers on his route knew when he delivered their mail, but usually they talked to him if they did.

He figured you weren’t trying to be rude though, with the gentle way you had taken the mail and closed the door. Plus, the look on your face had been more apprehensive than angry.

The next day, you stand and wait again. This time, you opened the door a little more calmly and actually looked at the guy.

He was an average looking white guy in a post office uniform. Your eyebrow raised imperceptibly at the hat he’s wearing but you just grabbed the mail again and closed the door.

Gardner looked down at himself as the door closed. He hadn’t missed the way your eyes had moved over his form. He also hadn’t missed the fact that you were wearing the same clothes as the day before.

Changing your clothes was a weekly occurrence. Somehow, your mom seemed to know that you needed to be told to, so you would after she called.

This week, you’re wearing grey sweats and one of your dad’s college sweatshirts from Howard.

Your hair was as dry as your skin from your too-hot showers. Naturally a 4a texture that you used to keep well defined was now frizzy and tangled. You didn’t have the energy to do your hair care routine anymore, only washing it and maybe pulling it into a low ponytail.

The third day he realized you’re still wearing the same thing and introduced himself before you could close the door.

“I’m Gardner.” You almost jumped when he talked, but the kind voice and harmless words reassured you.

“Y/N,” you replied, voice croaking from lack of use.

On the fourth day he said hi.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a closed lip smile.

“Hi Gardner,” you replied, and though the look of apprehension was gone, the smile was not returned.

Fifth day he made a comment about the weather.

“Nice weather today, nicer than yesterday.” he told you. You looked up at the sky for the first time in a while and nodded.

Sixth day he asked for the time.

“Do you have the time?” he asked as you opened the door.

“You’re wearing a watch,” you pointed out.

“It doesn’t work anymore,” he explained.

“It’s 3:25. You always come at 3:25,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” he said with what almost looked like a little smirk but he’s turning away before you could be sure.

On the seventh day, you’re wearing different clothes. They’re still not necessarily real clothes; leggings that are pilled up and a Howard shirt, but Gardner still noticed.

“I like your shirt.”

“Thank you, it was my Dad’s,” you said, looking him in the eye. You didn’t smile, but there’s more expression in your face than before.

He nodded, knowing that if you wanted to say more you would.

Eighth day you’re wearing the same shirt but different leggings. Gardner made a comment about how it looks like it might rain.

This continued for another 10 days. Gardner always talked first, and you offered varying replies. Sometimes it’s just a nod, others it’s a sentence. You changed your clothes more often, and Gardner complimented you every time he noticed.

It’s a small thing, and the compliments were simple. “I like that shirt,” “Those pants look comfy,” or “I’m a fan of Jurassic Park too,” but whenever he said them, you got a small rush of dopamine that you’d gotten used to living without.

One day, you’re not at the door. Unbeknownst to Gardner, it’s the three month anniversary of your father’s death and nothing was enough to move you from your place on your bed. The dull pain was amplified in waves over the course of the day. Staring at the wall turned into uncontrollable sobbing in a matter of seconds and back again within minutes.

The next day, when you’re back at the door with red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks, Gardner didn’t mention your absence. Instead, he commented on the number of ads in today’s mail.

“That’s how you really know that the 4th of July is approaching, the mattress sales,” he joked and the corners of your mouth pulled slightly up as you grabbed the aforementioned ads and shut the door.

Another week later, Gardner walked up and when you opened the door, there’s nothing in his hands. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question.

“You don’t have any mail today,” he told you.

“Then why did you come to my door?” you asked in confusion.

“I like seeing you everyday. Part of my routine,” he said plainly.

You made a face he couldn’t quite decipher and replied, “Okay.”

“That’s a good color on you,” he gestured to your shirt which was a dark green.

“Thank you,” you said, supposing that the pine colored shirt did compliment your dark brown skin well.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, turning around and walking away. You watched him until he got to the edge of your yard, noticing the way he trudged as he walked and how he looked down at his feet. Shrugging to yourself, you closed the door.

Three days later you opened the door and before he could say anything you talked, “Gardener’s your first name?”

“Yeah, but without the ‘e.’”

“Okay,” you replied and he handed you the mail.

Three days later, it hit 100 degrees and you felt it even in the air conditioned house.

You opened the door as Gardner was at the edge of your yard and watched him approach. It’s not until he’s just five feet away that he noticed the door’s open, a side effect of watching the sidewalk.

It’s easy to see the sweat that’s sticking his shirt to his chest, dripping down his neck, and darkening the rim of his hat. Even after only being outside for under a minute, you could feel the beginnings of sweat on your body as well.

Gardner looked at you as you stood there before reaching into his bag for your mail. You looked as if you wanted to say something, so he didn’t interrupt you with talk of the weather as he had planned.

“It’s too hot out,” you stated.

“I agree,” he agreed.

“I mean, it’s too hot for you to be outside,” you clarified.

“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,” he recited.

You shook your head in slight frustration and then rushed out, “Do you want to come inside for a minute to get out of the heat?”

“Oh, um, sure I can do that,” he replied. As you stepped away from the doorway, he walked in and you closed the door behind him.

You led him to the kitchen which was freshly cleaned. When you realized how hot it was this morning and decided to invite him in, you had cleaned the kitchen in a fury.

Growing up, your dad had always made sure to clean the house well before guests came over, and made sure you did the same. The thought of disappointing him in that small way gave you enough energy to do the work that you hadn’t done the whole time you lived there.

You pulled down two cups from the cupboard and filled them with cool water. You set them on the table, sitting down and gesturing for him to do the same.

“I didn’t put ice ‘cause you’re not supposed to shock your system with water that’s too cold, but this should still be refreshing,” you told him.

“That’s good to know, thank you,” Gardner replied before gulping down the whole glass. You quirked your lips at his actions. He was trying to act like he was okay, but obviously he was having trouble dealing with the heat.

As you stood to refill his water, he looked at you a little more carefully. You’re wearing black running shorts that he’s seen before, but instead of the sweatshirt that you had paired with them, you’re wearing that t-shirt you had been wearing the first day he complimented your appearance. This time, it was knotted in front and the sleeves were cuffed so less fabric was touching your skin.

Garner tried not to look too hard at the exposed skin of your arms and legs, forcing his eyes up to your hair. At first, he had thought it was in a low ponytail like it was sometimes, but as he really looked now, he could tell it’s in one braid that hits between your shoulder blades. He could see the curls even in the plait, and as you turned around, he noticed that a couple of curls had escaped and were framing your face.

“Your hair looks nice,” he said softly.

You reached up and felt the braid. “Oh, I was cleaning,” you said, almost more to yourself than him. To keep your hair out of your face while cleaning, you always used to pull it into a simple braid. You hadn’t even realized you had done so today.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute until Gardner spoke up, “This is a really nice house.”

You could tell by the way he said it that he’s kind of purposely not asking any questions, just complimenting, but you slightly answered anyway, “Yeah, it was my dad’s.”

“Like the shirt,” he said as he pointed to the shirt you’re wearing.

You looked down and laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard yet. It’s a sound that surprised you as well; you hadn’t heard it in months. All of a sudden, it’s all you could do as an almost hysterical laugh took over your body. You’re laughing, gasping for air, and wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes for a full minute before you answered, “Yeah, like the shirt,” in between giggles.

Gardner, to his credit, didn’t look freaked out and instead was smiling at the sound of your laughter. He decided that he really liked the sound, and would love to hear it again.

The two of you were smiling at each other for the better part of a minute before you dropped your gaze and took a sip of your water. Gardner copied you, waiting for you to make the next move.

You’re tapping your fingernails against the glass and looking into the water as you said your next words, “He died in April.”

Gardner nodded, but you only saw it from the corner of your eye. He had suspected for a while that something had happened. Well, really since April. While he had never met your dad, he noticed the mail pile up and then the change in only the first name on all of the mail. “That sucks.”

“It does,” you replied and took another sip of your water. You appreciated that he didn’t say I’m sorry like most people do and wondered what’s happened to him that he knew that those words don’t really help.

There’s a comfortable silence for another few minutes before Gardner finished his second glass and cleared his throat, standing up.

“Thank you for the water and for letting me come in here and cool off. I’ve gotta finish my route, so I have to go,” he informed you and you nodded.

“You’re welcome, Gardner,” you said as you led him back to your front door. You waved as he went out onto the front step, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he said back and started down the walk. Just before he reached the edge of your yard, he turned and looked back at you, smiling when he saw you hadn’t closed the door yet. You smiled back before closing the door.

Two days later, on Friday, it’s hot again, but it didn’t reach 100. You decided to invite him in anyway.

When you opened the door and he handed you your mail, you asked him, “Do you want to come inside again?”

He made a face you couldn’t quite comprehend. His eyes were squinty and his mouth was pressed down in a firm line. After a second, he replied.

“I actually can’t today. I have more mail than usual and I can’t get off track.”

“Oh,” you said, casting your eyes downwards and you started to slowly close the door.

“But I can come back after my route…?” Gardner offered, wanting to see you again.

“Okay,” you answered, the slightest of smiles creeping its way onto your face.

Gardner nodded and told you he’d be back around 5:30 and just as he started to turn away, you told him to wait.

You ran to your kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and filling quickly with water and just a bit of ice. Rushing back to the front door, you held it out to him and said, “At least take the water so you can stay hydrated.”

“Thank you. I’ll bring it back when I come back,” he said before waving and walking away.

You closed the door behind him and sat down on your living room couch. You sat there for a while, feeling something that you couldn’t quite place.

The feeling kept building slowly, and when you felt a drop in your stomach, you realized what it was. You’re nervous. It’s something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Since all you typically felt was the numbness, dull ache, or shooting pain, and now the calmness that came everyday at 3:25, you hadn’t recognized it at first.

Now, it was all you felt and you had to remind yourself to breathe in and out at a regular pace so you could remain at least a little calm.

Standing up, you walked to your bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face.

You looked in the mirror, taking in your appearance and seeing someone changed by grief.

Your hair was still in the braid from two days ago, and was very loose and frizzy. You took out the braid and shook it loose, watching it fall limply to the sides of your head, the natural volume and shape washed out by the harshness of the hot water. Knowing there wouldn’t be enough time for an entire routine, you pulled it into a much tighter french braid and called it good.

Next, you took in your face and how sunken your eyes were. Lack of sleep did wonders for the bags under your eyes.

Your skin looked dry and so did your lips. Trying to find some way to remedy this, you looked under the sink for lotion or something. Thankfully, your dad was very diligent about staying moisturized, and there’s shea and cocoa butter that you pull out.

Once you grabbed those, you could see what was behind them and smiled to yourself. It was a big jar of coconut oil, and you sent a little thank you to your dad. You used the butters to moisturize and the oil to help tame the baby hairs at the crown of your head before leaving for your bedroom.

There, you put on one of your less dingy pairs of black leggings, a black tank top, and one of your dad’s flannel shirts that you left unbuttoned.

You spent the next hour or so that you had to wait cleaning up the little mess that had accumulated since he last came inside.

At 5:31, you heard a knock at the door and opened it, as you had already been standing there.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a slight smile, even though he seemed to be a little out of breath.

“You’re late,” you said seriously.

“I’m sorry, my brother Calvin wouldn’t let me leave without telling me about his day, it took longer than I thought. I practically ran over here,” he said in a rush, with a worried look on his face.

“I’m joking,” you reassured him with a small smile and a little laugh. His face relaxed and he smiled back at you. “You’re only a minute late, so that doesn’t even count. Come in.”

“Thanks for understanding. I try to be very punctual,” he said as you led him into the living room and you both sat on the couch.

“I’ve noticed. I think that’s a good quality, but you shouldn’t stress yourself out about it.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t going to come or anything,” he explained.

“Well, you could’ve texted me or something.”

“I- um, I don’t have your number,” he pointed out, cheeks getting a little red, and not from the running.

“Oh, that’s right. Here, where’s your phone?” you said, reaching your hand out towards him. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. You quickly went into his contacts and added yourself. You handed back his phone and he looked at it, a fond little smile coming onto his face. “There. You know, I like the uniform, but it’s kinda nice to see you out of it.”

Gardner was wearing just an orange and white striped polo shirt and jeans. He flushed slightly at your words but smiled back and barely whispered, “thank you.”

A slight silence fell, but neither of you really seemed to mind. Gardner was taking in your living room and you’re taking in him.

He was really a very unassuming person but he was actually pretty cute and you always found yourself unusually calm in his presence. Even after the afternoon that was filled with nerves, as soon as you opened the door and laid eyes on him, everything had evened out.

“So you have a brother?” you asked, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked back over to you when you spoke and he nodded.

“Yeah, Calvin. We live together. Well, I live in front of the house. In a boat,” he told you.

“A boat?” you said, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“A boat on stilts,” he explained.

“Do you ever take it out?” you asked, slowly understanding what he meant.

“Not really.”

“Mm. What does Calvin do?” you said to switch the subject since he didn’t really seem to want to talk about the boat.

“He works at a mechanic shop. It’s pretty good work, he likes it.”

“The one in town?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s the only one in town, so yeah,” he replied.

“Then I’ve been there. Maybe I saw him. It was a little while ago, though. Last year,” you continued.

“He’s shorter than me. Great hair though,” he said.

“Hmmm, I think I’d remember great hair,” you said with a chuckle and Gardner joined in.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house? A tour?” you asked him after a second and he nodded happily.

You stood up with him and guided him towards the hallway. First, you pointed to the bathroom then walked down to the bedrooms.

Opening the door to your dad’s room, you felt a slight shiver run over you. It’s a mixture of how cold the room is since the door is always closed and the same pang you felt in your heart every time you looked in.

Usually, you looked around the room every couple of days, wanting to feel closer to your dad, and sometimes you got the best sleep on his bed, lying on top of the comforter. Still, every look reminded you that he’s gone.

You looked around the room as Gardner stood next to you. Unknowingly, you brought a hand to your chest as if you were trying to ease the pain that was there.

Seeing the physiological manifestation of your grief, Gardner felt his own heart hurting for you. He could relate to how horrible the first months were without a parent.

Carefully and slowly, he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it and then leaving it there. It comforted you, and when you finally swallowed the lump in your throat, you moved your hand from your chest to his hand and held it there for a moment before turning around and showing him your room across the hall.

It was still a bit of a mess, but all of the trash had been removed and your dirty clothes were piled into the overflowing hamper. Gardner didn’t seem put off by that fact and looked around your room.

It was technically the spare room, but when you stayed there with your dad, it had practically been your room and was partially filled with little things your dad knew you liked.

On the windowsill were a couple beeswax candles. The top of the dresser had an interesting mix of children’s books and classics with a boxset of The Lord of the Rings on one side and of Star Trek: The Next Generation on the other as bookends.

“The Next Generation?” he asked in amusement.

“Definitely, it’s a classic,” you returned.

“Hmmm, I was always more fond of the Original Series,” he stated with a smirk.

“Well, I hate to inform you, but you’ve been missing out on the best Star Trek has to offer,” you said, only slightly teasing.

“I’m not sure about that…” he said, definitely teasing.

“Why don’t we watch it and see?” you countered with a smile that he quickly returned.

“Deal.”

You grabbed the box set and the two of you headed back to the living room. You popped the disc into the player and turned on the TV. As it started up, you realized this is the first time you’d be watching anything you used to watch with your dad without him.

Your breath hitched for a second, and Gardner noticed, turning his head to look at you. He saw how the look on your face had changed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

You took a second to breathe again and then nodded slowly, “...yeah, I just used to watch this with my dad and haven’t since he died.”

“We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want,” he offered.

“No, I do want to,” you told him, making sure to look at him so he could see the clarity in your eyes. He nodded and the two of you turned your attention back to the screen.

The two of you watched the episode, laughing at the funny parts and gasping at the surprises. By the end of it, you felt content, except for one thing.

“Gosh, are you starving? I swear my stomach was rumbling through the last 20 minutes,” you said with an easy laugh.

“That was you? I thought it was the show,” Gardner said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Shut up,” you said, giggling and Gardner joined in. “How do you feel about a pizza?”

“That sounds great,” he said with a grin.

“Good, what kind do you like? I like pepperoni, so we can do half and half if you like something else.”

“I like plain cheese,” he confessed a little sheepishly.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, picking up your phone and heading into the kitchen to find the pizza place’s number. You dug through a drawer your dad had with all that type of stuff and found it, placing an order for a delivery in half an hour.

You walked back in the living room and found Gardner sitting there with his hands in his lap, the TV paused.

“You didn’t have to pause the TV, I’ve seen all of these before,” you told him, sorry that he was probably bored.

“I wanted to watch with you,” he explained and you smiled, feeling your cheeks get a little warm.

You complied, sitting down on the couch and resuming the next episode. About ¾ of it passed before the pizza came, and you paused it again to get up and pay. Bringing the box into the kitchen, you beckoned Gardner to follow and he did willingly; his own stomach had started to rumble halfway into the second episode.

Pulling two plates down, you handed one to him and the two of you placed two slices each before grabbing a couple napkins.

“We can go back in the living room,” you informed him and he followed, you. Both of you dug in as soon as you pressed play.

Before long, the entire pizza was gone and the fourth episode was almost done. You noticed Gardner yawning into his hand and when it’s over, you offered to drive him home. He protested at first, but you insisted since it’s nearing 10:30pm and it’s already dark outside.

The drive was mainly quiet, the only words being said were Gardner’s directions. After about 10 minutes, you pulled up behind a boat on stilts. You laughed a little because part of you had doubted its existence, but there it was.

As Gardner started to reach for the door, you spoke up, “So what’s the verdict? Do you admit that TNG is better than TOS?”

He turned and looked at you with a slight smirk, “I don’t know. I’m still not sure that Picard can hold a candle to Kirk.”

“Okay, how dare you? Guess you’ll just have to watch more until you’re converted,” you told him, looking at him with a smile and a sure look in your eyes.

“Sounds like a plan. See you Monday,” he told you, opening the door and getting out. “Oh! I forgot your water bottle, it’s in the boat, I’ll go get it!”

He closed the door and started to jog away but you rolled down the window.

“Wait, Gardner!” you called out and he came back. “Don’t worry about it, you just keep it. You’ll get more use out of it than I would.”

“Okay,” he said, still a little unsure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. See you Monday,” you told him and then drove away as he waved.

The drive back felt different. You didn’t drive much these days, only when you were absolutely out of food and could no longer ignore the hunger pangs in your body.

But, it’s kind of nice to drive again, and you felt happy for a second thinking about how nice the night was with Gardner. You got excited as you turned off your car to go inside and tell your dad all about it; he had always been incredibly supportive and understanding with your dating.

You left your car and used your keys to open the front door. Just as you opened your mouth to call out to your dad, you realized your mistake and the shock ran through your entire body.

Falling to your knees right there in front of the door, sobs racked your body and you had no choice but to give yourself up to them. That night, you fell asleep on your dad’s bed, having crawled to his room to try and find some comforting feeling there.

The next two days you spent all of your time in his bedroom, trying your hardest to feel his presence.

Monday came around and so did Gardner. Whatever kind of normalcy you had returned and the week continued on. On Friday, you invited Gardner over again to keep watching Star Trek.

This time, you ordered Chinese food and Gardner made you laugh as he tried to teach you to use chopsticks.

The summer heat had finally broken, and nights were finally getting cooler. Earlier in the day, you had opened the windows, and now they were letting in a cool breeze that was actually making you chilly and you noticed that Gardner had goosebumps.

Getting up during the theme song, you went to the hallway closet and grabbed a fuzzy blanket. Sitting back down, you draped it over both you and Gardner, and you had to sit closer so it covered the both of you.

Gardner thanked you and his voice cracked a little because the warmth he could feel radiating from your thigh touching his.

The two of you went back to watching the show, but between the blanket and Gardner’s warmth, you felt extremely cozy and started getting sleepy. Blinking slowly and yawning every couple of minutes, you tried to fight off the tiredness, but within 10 minutes, you’re dozing off.

Gardner noticed your tiredness but didn’t think too much of it until your head slumped over onto his shoulder. He turned his head and could see the profile of your face. Your eyes were closed and your face relaxed, your mouth just barely open.

He stayed as still as he could for a few minutes until he’s sure you’re deep asleep. Then, ever so slowly, he moved his arm from underneath your head so it could rest just above your shoulders on the couch.

Even in your sleep, you moved instinctively further into him, angling your head to lay on his chest and your legs came up onto the seats of the couch, pushing you further onto him. Your motion caused his arm to fall onto your shoulders and he left it there as you hummed happily in your sleep.  

Eventually, your closeness and the soft sounds of the TV that he had turned down so as to not wake you up lulled Gardner to sleep as well.

The two of you remained sleeping until the morning. The sun shining brightly through an east-facing window was what woke you as it was directly on your face.

You kept your eyes closed so the sun didn’t blind you and immediately felt a pain in your neck. You thought to yourself that you must have slept wrong. That thought confused you, though, since normally you didn’t fall asleep long enough to cause any aches or pains.

The next thing that confused you was the movement you felt underneath your head. Bringing a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, you opened your eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of your eyes and take in your surroundings.

You gasped, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you realized that the thing moving underneath you was Gardner’s chest.

He’s still asleep. His head was leaning on the back of the couch, his mouth open, and you could hear his slow breathing. His right arm was resting on the arm of the couch and his left fell from your shoulders to your waist when you sat up to look at him. He had almost no blanket on him and you cringed at yourself for hogging the blanket.

You cringed again thinking how awkward it’s about to be when he woke up.

Pushing past your hesitation, you gently shook his shoulder, saying, “Gardner, wake up.”

Slowly, he started stirring and stretched inwardly, his arm tensing against your waist as he did. His eyes blinked open and he sleepily looked at you, confusion running onto his face as he saw how light it is.

“What time is it?” he asked worriedly.

“Ummm, 9:30am,” you informed him, looking at your phone.

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to impose. You just kind of fell asleep on me and I didn’t want to move until you woke up on your own but I guess I fell asleep too,” he rambled, looking around him. He saw his arm on your waist and quickly pulled it back to his side, blushing furiously.

“Gardner, it’s okay,” you told him, reaching for his hand at his side. “If anything it’s my fault because I fell asleep on you. Seriously, it’s all good.”

He looked at his hand in yours and nodded, looking up to you when you gave it a squeeze.

“Do you want some breakfast?” you asked. He nods again and you stood up to lead him to the kitchen.

This week, when you had gone grocery shopping, you had gotten more things than usual. That taste of pizza the previous Friday had reminded you how good cooked food was and you started actually cooking for yourself again.

You grabbed pancake mix and the griddle from the cupboard and got started.

Gardner chatted to you about how Calvin makes waffles but he likes pancakes too and about the events of the episodes the two of you watched last night.

He made you laugh with his theories about Riker and Deanna, and Picard and Dr. Crusher. The two of you shared little stories over pancakes; you told him a little about your dad and he told you about his friends at work and along the route.

After the two of you eat, he said that he should be on his way and that he could walk this time. You acquiesced, with the condition that he texted you when he got back so you would know he made it.

He opened your front door and stepped onto the front porch before turning back to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the food, it was good,” he said, a little awkward because he didn’t know where the two of you stood.

“You’re welcome,” you said, stepping out of the doorway and up to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek and then told him softly, “I’ll see you soon, Gardner,” before going back inside and closing the door softly behind you.

Gardner stayed standing there for a moment, reaching a hand up to his cheek and repeating, “soon.”

He remembered to text you as soon as he got back, walking into the house instead of climbing into the boat. Calvin spotted him walking through the kitchen and called him into the backyard for a game of horseshoes.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” he asked as he picked up his shoes.

“Pretty good,” Gardner replied, picking his own up.

“You look kinda tired… Aren’t those the clothes you were wearing yesterday? Holy shit, did you stay the night at that girl’s place?” he asked gleefully, putting the pieces together. He tossed his first shoe and missed by a foot.

“Y/N, and yes, and yes. But we just slept. Well, she fell asleep on me on her couch and then I fell asleep too. My neck kinda hurts,” Gardner explained, rubbing his neck then throwing his first shoe, ringing it.

“Shit. Does she like you?” Calvin asked before throwing his second one that landed so it’s touching then pumping his fist in celebration.

“I don’t know, Cal. Maybe? She’s going through a rough time, her dad died a couple months ago and I don’t think she’s totally herself yet. You remember what I was like when they left,” he reminded him, throwing another ringer.

Calvin nodded in agreement. Gardner had been changed forever when his parents abandoned him, but that first year was especially brutal. Tossing his shoe first, and getting a ringer, he asked, “You like her though?”

“Yeah, I really really do. I know I don’t actually know the real or normal her, but I swear sometimes I get these flashes of her and it’s like the sun coming out after a cloudy day,” he said, pausing to throw his last one; it spun around the peg before landing on top of the other two. “But she’s amazing all the time. She’s kind and trusting and giving and non judgmental.”

“Why do you always win?” Calvin muttered under his breath before responding. “Well, she sounds great. Good luck.”

The pattern continued with you and Gardner, although it ramped up in frequency. He started coming over almost every other day, and the next weekend, asked you to dinner at a restaurant in town. Although you’re a little apprehensive, since you know Gardner will be there for you, you agreed.

It’s a great night and the two of you ate and then walk around the river, talking for hours. That night, when you dropped him off at the boat, you asked to see it and he welcomed you gladly.

You shared your first kiss after he brought you inside. Gardner was unsure at first, but you just pulled him closer and he lost his nerves when you placed his hands on your waist and then ran your own through his hair.

After a little while of making out, you decided to leave, knowing you aren’t ready for anything else. Giving him a final peck on the lips, you climbed back out of the boat and drove home. That night, you slept in your own bed, making it all through the night and only waking up once.

From then on, the two of you split your time together at your house, his boat, and going places in town. About once a week, you joined him on his route for an hour or so.

Gardner made you laugh, but also knew when you’re especially missing your dad and talked to you about him so his memory could comfort you.

One night, after the fifth season finale of Star Trek, you and he were cuddling on the couch. You’re sitting upright and his head’s in your lap facing the ceiling. Your hand was moving in little circles on his upper arm and he’s watching your face as you watched the credits.

It was a scene that was not uncommon between the two of you, but Gardner can’t seem to be able to help himself as he breathed out, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, and though he might have wished you missed the words, you heard them loud and clear and were looking at him in a way he can’t decipher.

“You do?”

“Yeah, um, I do,” he said, averting his eyes from your gaze. He knew that it might be too soon, but once he had the thought, it left his brain through his mouth and there was nothing he could do about it.

Gardner’s cheeks and neck are blushing red as he looked away, but you moved your hand to their junction, and used his jaw to turn his face and eyes back to you.

“I love you too, Gardner,” you told him earnestly.

He sat up and turned to you, mouthing “really,” and you nodded. His hands moved to your face and you moved yours to the back of his neck. When he didn’t close the gap, you did, pulling him to you and kissing him softly to assure him of the meaning behind your words.

Life continued, and you relished the last two weeks of summer before you had to go back to school. Since it would only be a 30 minute commute, you decided to continue living at your dad’s house.

You started to move your things out of the garage and into the house, packing away things of your dad’s that hold less significance to make room.

There will still be bad days in the future, and you won’t know when they’re coming or how long they’ll be. But, you know you have Gardner to lean on, and while he can’t take away your pain, he can offer you some comfort as you deal with it.

★★★

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

[bigskydreaming]

So, I really hate making these posts and try not to as much as possible, but the only thing I’ve eaten in the last two days is a stale muffin from 7-11 that was all I could afford with the whole dollar and ten cents in my bank account yesterday.  

I know there’s a ton of people in dire straits and there’s never a shortage of donation posts, and I also know from personal experience that there’s also a lot of amazing and generous people who give as much as they can to people whenever they can. I KNOW that some of you want to help but have just already helped as much as you possibly can, and please just know that just because I’m still struggling, that doesn’t mean that any help you gave me already didn’t make a difference. The responses I got to my first donation post early last month are the only reason I survived December, and like....they made a difference, and they definitely mattered. And I also know there’s people who see my posts and want to help but already gave whatever they could to other donation posts and please don’t ever feel bad that you don’t have anything you can send because you already sent it to someone else who needed it.

I truly do not make posts like this with any kind of expectation, its just...desperation, lol. I’ve monetized every skill I can think of that I have in every way possible I can come up with, I’m working as much as I possibly can when I do find the work, but this past month I’ve spent three to four hours every day searching out new jobs and commissions and clients with practically zero results, and I can only work with the work that’s there, 

There are positives, I mean, my efforts in rebuilding my credit have really started to pay off and I finally have a decent credit score that should make getting an apartment finally possible on that front. I have insurance now, so all the stuff I’ve been waiting months to get started on is now at least feasibly affordable. Now I just need to be able to like, capitalize on these things, y’know?  As great as it is to only have to pay sixty bucks for one of the medical tests I need done where without insurance it would’ve been three hundred, only making just enough to stay afloat in the motel I’m at day to day still keeps that stuff JUST out of reach and that’s...ugh. 

And also, its hard to be productive on one muffin every 1-2 days lmao, esp when you’ve got the whole chronic pain medical shit blah blah wtfever ugh shut up my life.

But seriously, anything you can spare helps keep me afloat and building towards a day/point when I can actually do something to turn things around in a more permanent, sustainable way. Like, you may think that oh ppl say on donation posts all the time that even one or two bucks helps, but does it really? But let me tell you, like....yes. Yes it does. Even two bucks is basically double what I spent on food over the last two days lol, so....yeah.

And again, if you just can’t spare anything, you wanna help but you’ve already helped as much as you could or helped other people - I totally get that and am grateful that you already did everything you could, whether it was for me or for someone else who needed it. It may not make a ton of sense but it honestly helps to know that some ppl just aren’t in a position to help me personally because someone else already benefited from their help. Like, when you’re living one of those ‘ugh, wouldnt wish this on anyone’ lives at the moment, and you see so many other ppl going through so much shit of their own like, fuck yeah, I’d love a comfortable cushion in my bank account, who wouldn’t, but there’s still its own kinda value in knowing someone else who spent yesterday just as worried about where their next meal would come from as you is sleeping a little easier tonight because someone else responded to their donation post instead of yours. Like, that’s not a loss, or a waste or something anyone should feel bad about, so please don’t.

If all you can do is reblog, that honestly helps too, so please don’t think its an empty gesture that doesn’t really do much. You never know when your reblog might be the one to make a difference for someone, because someone who follows you is in a position to help and might never have seen my post otherwise. I know I got donations last month from people who don’t follow me and probably had no idea who I was before my post crossed their dash, and I know in the past I’ve donated to people I’d never heard of before a mutual reblogged their post, and again - when even a few bucks can make a difference, let alone the larger amounts some generous souls on here are capable of sending, yeah, even a simple reblog really and truly can make a difference. Not just for my post here, but for any and all donation posts.

Anyway, here’s the link to my paypal again, and thanks for reading or reblogging or donating or hell, even just for following someone who reblogs this onto your dash because that’s definitely someone I Officially Like and appreciate even if I have no idea who they are lol.

https://paypal.me/bigskydreaming

[blxckdamask]

Trashcan’s Fic Rec

So since it's the end of May, I thought it would be nice to rec some of my favourite fics I've read throughout the month. Most of these are BNHA since that's what I’m into now lmao. I’m doing this instead of writing the 5 fics I have planned and I havent posted in like 3 weeks oops.

Bakudeku Fics:

Plus Ultra Parenting by Superior_Moustache | 39k | 10/? | fluff | established relationship | kidfic 

Izuku and Katsuki, better known to the world as the Wonder Duo: Deku and Kacchan. The married hero couple finally adopted their first child together, a bouncing baby boy. Luckily, they're on paternity leave for one year (thank god), so they can bond with their son as much as possible. They're going to be the best damn daddies and go beyond PLUS ULTRA!

Katsuki Bakugou has No Goddamn Chill (But Its For The Best That He Doesn’t) by Rosae  | 8k | 2/2 | hurt/comfort | fluff | platonic or romantic 

Alternatively titled: The Entire Goddamn School Gives Up On Trying To Understand These Two & Aizawa is Really Tired.

Izuku and Bakugou had a long and complicated history, but most of the school was pretty sure that they understood where the two currently stood as rivals. Then Izuku's dad showed up on campus and everyone's preconceptions were mercilessly thrown out the window. In which Bakugou tries to murder a man, has a soft side and convinces his entire class the twilight zone is real.

Ft. Part 2: Turns out Izuku and Bakugou will work together willingly if given proper motivation. Endeavor showing up for a training exercise apparently qualifies. Aizawa is really tired of these children not asking for help and everyone else is absolutely terrified (and secretly very glad these two don't work together more often).

briar roses (and hundred years of sleep) by vannral | 15k | 5/5 | angst w/ a happy ending | get together | eventual nsfw 

In complete honesty, no one who knows the Class 3-A should be surprised anymore. Izuku is asleep.

In which Izuku is hit by a ‘Sleeping Beauty’ Quirk, Class 3-A tries to find his True Love and get them to kiss him, and Katsuki’s very angry about it all.

Six Between by majjale | 2k | 1/1 | angst | established relationship | betrayal 

Izuku is hospitalized after a nasty fight. Katsuki finally visits.

Utopia by Kanea_vR | 2k | 1/1 | fluff | established relationship | marriage proposal | domestic 

In which Izuku worries that his and Katsuki’s relationship has become too domestic, and Katsuki proves him right. Not that either of them are complaining.

Todobaku Fics: 

No Questions by ravenssaur | 3k | 1/1 | hurt/comfort | angst | deaf!bakugou

Everytime his doorbell rings at 3am, Todoroki knows exactly who is it.

Kitties Tale by Midknight_works | 2k | 1/1 | fluff | domestic | slight nsfw

Bakugou brings home a stray box full of kittens for his and Shouto’s one year anniversary.

Where White Lilies Lay by sodapopcurtis | 17k | 1/2 | break up & make up | angst | hurt/comfort | fluff 

Shouto’s eyes light up in a way that rivals every star in the galaxy, and the past year falls to pieces. “You’re Katsuki.”

With staggered breath, he replies, “You remember me?”

“Of course I do,” Shouto says, “You’re my boyfriend.”

---

Todoroki Shouto gets amnesia and remembers only two things: 1) his name, and 2) that he's dating Bakugou Katsuki.

The only problem is, they broke up a year ago.

Deeper by snakeskinbuffalo | 3k | 1/1 | soulmate au | get together | tw suicide attempt, self harm, depression 

“Katsuki, your soulmate is someone who will always be by your side. They will be someone who completes you. Together, you will make an unstoppable force.”

AU where Bakugou and Todoroki are soulmates and Bakugou is in denial.

Do You Like... (series) by degradedpsychotic | 3 works | 57k | not completed | very nsfw | established relationship | cheating 

Shouto is looking at the damn vent like he’s about to make a break for it. “It’s not, um, what it looks-” “It’s exactly what it looks like,” Katsuki cuts across, his voice losing its bite. Shouto flinches, and silence spreads between them like the frost on Shouto’s fingers.

- - -

Shouto Todoroki and Katsuki Bakugo are tired of their marriage.

better late than never by bonnia | 12k | 1/1 | body swap au | get together | aggressive hand holding (lmao) 

“I’m sorry, but I’m not letting you go. I quite like being in my own body.” Todoroki's next breath comes out icy cold, and Katsuki leans as far back as their joint hands will allow.

“Are you fucking hearing yourself?” he sputters, feeling heat crawl up his neck to his ears.

(or: bakugou and todoroki get hit by a body swap quirk, and physical contact seems to be the only answer to their predicament)

Without Hesitation by XenophoneSpeaks | 8k | 2/2 | love confessions | hurt/comfort | get together | fluff | angst w/ a happy ending

The first time Bakugou told Todoroki he was in love with him, he thought he’d die.

Starting Over From Ground Zero by HyacinthAtropa & XenophoneSpeaks | temporary amnesia | get together | coming out | nsfw | angst w/ a happy ending 

“What would their relationship have been like, if Bakugou’s pride hadn’t stood in the way? Would they have been friends, or would things have mostly stayed the same? Would Bakugou have been happier, more open and honest about his feelings and wants and needs as a person? Would he have accepted and even appreciated the comfort others offered him, rather than always keeping people at arm’s-length in an effort to maintain an image of independence and strength?

Todoroki didn’t know.

He didn’t know. But he wanted to.

Abruptly, like a bolt of lightning, he realized he actually had the chance to find out.”

(Or: that one where Bakugou has temporary amnesia and Todoroki is tasked with caring for him until his memory returns, but ends up falling in love with the part of Bakugou that Bakugou has always kept hidden away instead.)

i don’t need to hear to know how i feel (series) by Lizxcliff | 5 works | 16k | not completed | deaf todoroki | coffee shop au | get together | fluff | angst | eventual nsfw 

“English tea, right?” He asked. The man in front of him stared, unsure of how to interact with the handsome, blonde man. This, of course, annoyed Bakugou. “Speak, moron.” He said harsher. Todoroki continued looking at him. He probably doesn’t speak sign language. He reached towards the left end of the counter and grabbed a paper menu. Searching quickly, Todoroki found the English tea, and pointed to it.

Kacchako Fics:

pink cheeks, calloused hands, small wonders by TheGodWith5Yen | 37k | 7/7 | established relationship | domestic fluff | pregnancy | kid fic | adoption 

Her hands found his. She breathed out. Her breath smelled like Listerine, it made Katsuki wrinkle his nose at her.

“I’m pregnant.”

Katsuki’s eyes widened and he stared at her, his mouth opening. “Oh shit. Shit, whoa, okay, wow.” His hands unclasped from hers and traveled down to her stomach. “Ochako, wow.” Not even an hour ago he was convinced his girlfriend was breaking up with him. His mind couldn’t completely wrap around what was happening, but he couldn’t stop looking at his girlfriend in awe. He kissed her forehead, a smacking kiss with a “mwah” sound that had Ochako rolling her eyes and cuddling closer to him. “You’re pregnant.”

“I am.” Ochako agreed, her voice steady and confidant.

Katsuki licked his dry lips. His mind was racing. “Cool.”

It’s Our Secret, Angel Face by thesweetestnerd | 200k | 39/39 | nsfw | mutual pining | get together | fluff | angst | friends with benefits 

Broken down and humiliated after her crushing defeat in the Sports Festival, Uraraka just wants to sleep off her injuries in the infirmary. She didn't expect to get a very loud and very angry roommate for the night.

(A Kacchako one shot that turned into a love story.)

Other Fics:

Perception (series) by aizawashouta | erasermic | 2 works | 10k | not completed | nsfw | friends to lovers | mutual pining | get together | angst w/ a happy ending 

Five times Hizashi feels like a burden to Shouta and one time he finally snaps with Shouta by his side to pick up the pieces.

-

Hizashi is all too aware that they’re polar opposites, Shouta being the calm to his storm, the quiet to his loud exuberance. Shouta, who’s at his most content curled up on the couch in their shared living room, or anywhere, really, napping or idly playing with their two cats while Hizashi’s busy going through his ever-growing music library, bothering Shouta for his opinion before adding the songs that have gained his friend’s grudging approval to whatever new playlist that he’s working on.

No matter how hard he tries, he can’t leave him alone and, miraculously, Shouta’s been tolerating him for fifteen years.

He hopes to God that it hasn’t become an obligation.

like-like by nanasekei | stony | 5k | 1/1 | POV morgan | fluff | kid fic | steve being a cool step dad | domestic 

Morgan doesn’t really know Captain America.

After The Tournament by bluewerewolfprose | wolfstar & drarry | 175k | 53/? | canon divergent | fix it fic | fluff | angst | angst w/ a happy ending | everyone is gay | trans Sirius | eventual drarry | nsfw 

What if Remus and Sirius realised Harry was being abused? What if all Dumbledore’s careful plans were pulled apart by the power he relied on most of all?

After the Triwizard Tournament, a traumatised Harry admits he can't go back to Privet Drive. Sirius and Remus refuse to submit to Dumbledore's plan and take him back to Grimmauld Place with them, where they must learn how to live together, how to care for one another, and how to trust one another. After so long, can they build a family together? Will they even have a chance when a war rages outside their door? And can the prophecy ever be fulfilled?

[mildlincrs]

hi, tumblr — it's been (way longer than) a minute, but i'm back from the chaotic journey that was junior year! and with that, i wanted to continue what i started with my advice for rising freshmen and rising sophomores; i’ll be writing a final post for rising seniors once i (theoretically) finish high school.

note: i'm currently attending high school in the united states, so there are certain points i mention that may not apply to you if you aren't also studying in the u.s., but i still hope that you get something out of this post!

note 2: this post is pretty long -- a lot longer than the previous advice posts -- and also pretty personal. i go in-depth on what junior year was like for me (spoiler: not great), and subsequently, i have plenty of advice to help avoid some of what i ended up experiencing. 

my junior year experience

for reference, click [here] a list of my junior year classes (along with classes i’ve taken and plan to take). i took two ap courses, and the rest of my courses with the exception of band were honors courses. 

to be blunt -- junior year was one of my worse years of high school, academically and mentally. sophomore year was definitely one of my lowest points, too, but junior year was really shitty in a lot of ways. i was busy working (trying to) nearly all the time, and i found myself constantly under stress, struggling to maintain my grades -- especially in my calculus and physics classes. at a certain point in the year, i subconsciously stopped caring, i think, to the point where i couldn’t focus at all when i was working, instead opting to do things that were considerably less productive. i’d study for up to five minutes at a time, only to stress myself out of studying and go to sleep -- yes, i stressed myself to sleep. other nights, i’d stay up doing absolutely nothing, in spite of the massive amounts of work and studying i still had left to do. i was close to failing my physics class, at one point, too, and physics was arguably the class i studied and worked the hardest for.

another reason that this year was pretty terrible for me was the fact that i was recovering from several injuries. in june of 2018, i injured my knees -- for reasons i’d prefer not to disclose -- and though they were healing over the summer, with marching band, the injuries were only exacerbated. if you want an idea of how bad they were, i struggled to simply walk short distances if i didn’t have any sort of support. marching band is basically dignified, faster walking, so you can imagine the kind of stress that i was under. because of this, i had to stop dancing and take a season of winter guard off -- two of my biggest emotional releases in life. without both of those things for over six months, i felt pretty directionless, and i ended up relapsing (i have chronic depression). that along with the business of junior year made life feel pretty damn miserable. physical therapy didn’t help me, i had virtually no time to schedule a meeting with a therapist or other mental health professional, and i was exhausted 24/7. 

all this being said, junior year still had its good moments! i got to take two astronomy semester courses, both of which only reinforced my love for astronomy  -- i’ll be doing astronomy-related research in the fall - i got to play some pretty damn good music in band, qualified and made all-state band for the first time, and i became closer with my best friends and got to make new ones. i completed a year-long research paper (while missing quite a few deadlines on the way) that turned into what’s probably the most vulnerable piece of writing i’ve ever produced (message me if you’re interested in reading it!), and i didn’t fail any of my classes. good stuff. 

more on not failing my classes: 2nd semester was kind of weird for me, in that my grades went up in some classes, but slowly sort of decreased in others. for example -- i studied and worked my ass off trying to improve my calculus grade during 1st semester, but my exhaustion caused me to fall asleep during a lot of classes, meaning that i would always miss the material being taught, and by the time i got home that day, i was so exhausted that i would just fall asleep until the next morning, not even bothering to figure out what i had missed during class. with physics, worked harder than i ever had during 1st semester, but i continued to receive low scores on tests and heavily relied on my lab and quiz grades to keep me afloat. i cared less about japanese more and more, (which SUCKS because i really loved the class and language but my effort just went downhill) and i can distinctly remember not studying for several of the tests that were administered, and as such, receiving subpar scores. i did, however, pass all of my finals and ap exams, which was definitely a plus. 

tldr: my work ethic went to shit, and i salvaged it somewhat, at the cost of losing a lot of sleep and not eating for multiple days at a time WHICH IS NOT HEALTHY. DON’T DO THIS PLEASE. junior year was worse than sophomore year in a lot of ways, but i fucking MADE IT so who’s the real winner here

advice for junior year

my number one piece of advice is to take care of yourself. you’ve probably heard it before, but that’s because you should do it. i’m 100% serious when i say that it can really make a difference. i mentioned that i lost a lot of sleep and didn’t eat sometimes during the school year, and because of that, i was super super sick at one point which only made my mental health worse, which only decreased my ability to focus and work properly. please stay healthy ahh like hydrate, get some mf sleep, and eat well! if you have to choose between studying for a test and sleeping at 3am, then go the fuck to sleep. and it’s not just about being healthy enough to do well in school! it’s literally your own wellbeing. put your physical and mental needs first, no matter what.

for ap courses: highly recommend looking on the collegeboard website for practice questions! the website also outlines the test structures, which i found helpful for me when i was studying for the exams. if you’re hoping to score a 4 or 5 on your ap exams, it’s in your best interests to go in prepared as possible. iirc the website also provides overviews of all the content that should be studied/is covered on the exam, which can help structure your studying, too!

another thing on ap courses: while if you score well enough on ap exams, you might be able to transfer those credits to your college courses (if you enroll at a u.s. college), i wouldn’t recommend loading your schedule with ap courses. they’re college-level courses for a reason; they will be fast-paced and involve a lot of work on your part. a rule that i used when deciding what ap courses i would take in high school: if i didn’t particularly like the subject, then i took the honors version of the course. otherwise, if i felt like i could challenge myself, was interested in the course, and if it was available, then i signed up for it. i knew from sophomore year that i wasn’t good at dealing with both school and my mental health, so i recognized that i’d need to lessen my ap coursework as much as possible so that i didn’t throw myself into an even worse situation (i took zero aps sophomore year). 

don’t spread yourself too thin involving yourself in things in and out of school. sort of similar to my philosophy of not overloading my schedule, i made sure that i only committed myself to extracurriculars that i cared about and enjoyed doing. i personally marched my third season of marching band, and remained involved in my school’s urban dance club as much as possible (though when i took a break from dancing, that was definitely harder, but towards the end of the year, i was able to participate in a few performances with my friends). i also participated in an outside wind ensemble every week, and that was plenty for me -- i had a lot of music to practice both for that group and my school’s band, and then i had to balance THAT with practicing music for private lessons & auditions, and with schoolwork. i know there are people who are involved in so many extracurriculars, which i wouldn’t recommend. devote yourself to what you love in high school; that will also give you something worth writing about in things such as college applications! better to pursue what you love with passion and authenticity than to sign-up for a club for the clout even if you’re not remotely interested in it. 

if it’s offered where you live, i would recommend taking the sat and/or act during your junior year. i’d also recommend taking subject tests if you have the time for it. the earlier you take these tests, the more likely you are to have an opportunity to retake them if you don’t score as well as you hope. you can also start taking these tests during sophomore year -- i took sat subject tests in june of my sophomore year, took the sat twice during junior year, and i will be taking the act in july. i’ll also be retaking an sat subject test and taking a completely new one. 

while it may be daunting, start thinking about college -- whether you want to go to college or not, where or what you’d like to study, etc. since i plan on majoring in music, i started researching sort of early so that i could give myself enough time to finalize a list of the colleges i am applying to and the repertoire i need to learn and practice for auditions. but regardless of what you decide to do with your future, no one is expecting you to have every step of your life labeled out. things can change, and that’s okay! that’s literally how life works. definitely reach out to your counselors if you want advice from them! i’d also recommend sitting down with your parents and talking about the college application process with them and what they can do to help you.

there’s a lot of pressure during junior year -- it’s the last full year of high school before college applications, and typical for students to be busy 110% of the time. that said, find time for yourself to destress and do nothing school or work-related. if it helps, schedule specific times of the day where you just relax and do something that makes you happy. finding a work-life balance can really make a difference (i say, not having one, though i have many friends who talk about this to me).

if you need help with anything at all -- talk to someone about it! feeling super stressed and shitty? talk to someone you trust, whether they’re your closest friend or a teacher (which reminds me, if you plan on asking a teacher for a rec, take time to talk with them if you can, it makes a difference). you are not alone. i know for some people (especially for me, actually), it can be super difficult to open up about what you’re dealing with, but it’s arguably better than trying to push your way through it all on your own.

best of luck during your junior year -- i believe in you<3

love, fei

[nyruratchet]

Time...

“...Why you punish me?”

So, I explained last time the situation regarding the creation of my music...monetarily. But let me explain and expand on how my time is utilized on a monthly basis.

If I haven’t made it clear, I hate my job. But here’s the thing, it’s flexible (for the most part), has benefits: (insurance, free-ish air travel, scheduled pay increases). Cons: passengers are allowed to treat crew like shit, always working with new people (that you may not mesh well with), anyone you try establishing a relationship with has pre-conceived notions/little to no faith you will ever be around, pay SUCKS until you get REALLY senior (7+), and...more, but I digress. But that flexible schedule, albeit limited, has afforded me the ability to work on music; until it doesn't. 

See, I was getting “comfortable” in my work situation a few years ago until certain a situation beyond my control forced me into deep debt, bad credit, and deeper depression. In order to fix all of this, money is needed. How do u get money? Work more. More work leads to more depression and sometimes health issues. So, I’ve been stuck in this seamlessly endless cycle of paycheck to paycheck living. And my desire and NEED to work on my music has not helped it (as explained in the previous blog post). Every time I get a bit more money, it goes to my craft. 

See, after you put all that money into creating art, you have to then put it OUT there. And in the case of a performer, you need to do live performances. That is a whole other situation in itself. There are lots avenues to get live performance experience. Open mics, concert showcases, live cabaret/karaoke bars, etc. Guess what THEY ALL COST MONEY. But not only money, LOTS of excess time is involved. 

This past spring, I was dragged into a showcase by my producer friend (who I’m partially in love with but he’s straight...but that’s another story). In order to do a showcase, you have to apply for acceptance. Applications involve you submitting current work and having a worthy social media following (which you have had to spend constant time building). Once you fill out the application, send the files and info, PAY your entry fee ($25) and receive your acceptance, you then have to sell tickets. Yes, how do they get people to come to the showcase? By having YOU bring them. And if you cannot find people to buy your tickets, all of those tickets come out of YOUR pocket. So, I was given 25 tickets to sell (last minute mind you); 25 tickets to sell at $20 bucks each. So, if I don't sell them, I owe the company $500 dollars. Yup, that’s correct. In order for me to perform my original content on their stage, I needed to make sure they got their $525 and help them get people in the venue so that they buy drinks at the bar (which we were given ZERO drink tickets for). Now before stepping on stage, you don’t get a sound check. So, you show up early before everyone to check in and simply check they have your correct music file(s) then wait...and wait...and wait. But your music has to be edited within their restrictions (this means more studio time. Remember, studio time =more $$...just making sure ur following me. Too many times you’ll hear big recording artists talking about how they have just sat in studios for hours creating a song from scratch. Yeah, only if you are signed to major label is this a thing! But anyway...back to the showcase.) 

Needless to say, I did everything I needed to. But I had some help since I asked to do this last minute and told them UP FRONT they would have had to get that unsold ticket money from me in blood. I landed from working a redeye the day before, got a nap in, did my vocal exercises in my car on my way to New Jersey, checked in and sat there. Since some people didn't show up on TIME, I was abruptly grabbed from drinking my whiskey at the bar and told “YOU’RE ON NEXT!”  Being the seasoned professional that I am, took that shot to the head, said “Actually, that’s not my slot...but ok, I’m ready.” NO SOUND CHECK, NEVER given TIME on the stage beforehand...I went on. Sung my ass off with a standing ovation from the judges. Then, went back to drinking with my friends who were in shock because they had never heard me really sing live. Then I had sit for HOURS while mediocre “rappers” and “singers” rapped over pre-recordings of their own vocals. Finally, they were ready to announce the winners. I won that sucker.

But what did I win? ...A promise to be put into another show... *DICK FACE*  No money to recoup what I just spent getting to this moment. No free promotion on social media to help me and my art. NO, some bullshit. So, I took the experience fore what it was and cut my losses. I got some exposure and was able to test out an unreleased song...but besides that. Nothing but wasted time and effort. I left there feeling somewhere between elation and disappointment. Not to mention, I was exhausted; I had done all this after working my full time job, and had to work again the next day. So all I had time to do was drive home and sleep. 

“Like a wave bashing into the shore...

Since this, I have had some money issues and mental health issues, so I have just barely been able to work on music. On my days off, I have to sleep and get back in the groove of being a real person instead of a redeye zombie. Then when I’m feeling slightly normal, I’m back to work...it is a vicious, irritating, restraining cycle. I’ve tried working shorter flights so I’m home more; nope, the pairings (schedules) for those flights work you in a way that leaves you feeling raped. My company will build a pairing with a duty time of 27hrs and only pay you for 15-17 of those hours. DOESN’T MAKE SENSE. Then on top of that, your rest time at the hotel is set to 11hrs...WTF?? 

Let me explain this for those of you with normal jobs. On these pairings, you are schedule to work a number of flights each day. So, 3 day pairing means you work 3-4 flights each day and have 2 layovers. Now lets say FLIGHT time is 1.5-2.5 hrs each (8-12hrs). Then you land from your final flight for day one. We’re usually delayed at our carrier...honestly, rarely on time. So, you have minimum rest at 11hrs. BUT, before you can leave the aircraft we have to get all passengers off the plane, CLEAN the seats, wait on our shuttle which is probably late if your pilots are sucky human beings and haven’t called ahead to make sure they’re there (Pilots aren’t required to clean; just us lowly peasants). So, by the time you get to the hotel, down to 10hrs. If you get there and rooms are ready, great. IF NOT, another 20-30 min or longer. But, lets say you’re down to 9.5hrs now. Get to your room. Hopefully your key works, air/heat works, no one is already in you room (yes...it happens all the time), room already cleaned, no bed bugs, and you aren’t by a noisy ice machine/elevator. You then have to shower and eat. Let’s say you get all that done in an hour. You now have 8.5 hrs to sleep...BUT WAIT, the van is scheduled to pick you up from the hotel 45 min to an hour before you are supposed to report at the airport and you need to be dressed and ready to make that van. So instead of 8.5hrs, you actually have 7hrs at best to sleep and pop outta bed, get dressed and properly ready to do the shit show all over again; all the while, knowing they are really only paying you for the time you spend on the aircraft, AFTER THE DOOR IS CLOSED AND THE BRAKE IS RELEASED. Time before like boarding, checks, delays? nope...no pay. Just us waisting our fucking time. Literally.

Why, is this? cuz everyone does it is the answer. That is how all airlines do it, so you have no leg to stand on. Got a union, the company retaliates like a reprimanded toddler. Now as I said before, once you get to be a super senior in your company and can choose what you want to work, when you want to work, in the position you want to work, getting $40/hr at base hours and a crazy amount for premium (overtime) hour, etc. the job is GOLDEN. (Unless that company gets purchased/merged.) But for a young person/flight attendant in debt, living in NYC, with a high cost of living, life ain’t fun. I tried living in New Jersey for a lower cost; that came with its own issues. I’ve taken out loans, became a hermit to save money, worked holidays, etc. Dug my hole deeper is what I did. And I’m pretty good at setting goals and managing my time and getting things DONE. But for some fucking reason, life is not working in my favor. This job is not working for me. I see younger people coming up behind me doing LITTLE to no work, getting musical accolades with trash “music” (I know, matter of opinion...but really. C’mon now), young white/latino/asian twinks shaking their ass for anything that breathes and getting rich men to pay their bills or marry them, all the while telling me they just want my BBC or other racist BS like that (Yes, I have receipts) and I’m just like WTF AM I DOING WRONG?! Have I spent my time stupidly? 

And the most recent shit that really hurt my feelings: If any of you remember (to the three of you reading this lol), a few months ago I posted about help getting into bartending. Well, I had actually asked a friend in person before that about bartending and if he knew any directors who could do a music video. This “friend” told me “no, not really”. Didn’t know anything about that, he just does movies and short films (which I’ve donated to his kickstarters for btw...) but no one who he thinks does music videos. THEN, I asked this same “FRIEND” how much he would charge to be IN a music video, as I had a song (the one I won the showcase with) that he would be perfect for as it deals with subject matter he rallies for. I wanted to help his career out in turn by help my video out, because I’m ugly and having beautiful actors in my video would be a better sell (as again, I need this song to make money. He then tells me me, he’s not sure how much he would charge for that. SEVERAL MONTHS LATER...this bitch releases a music VIDEO to his NEW SINGLE about a SIMILAR SUBJECT!! Without promotion, he gets instant 2.2k hits on the video on youtube. MIND YOU, he would always be shy to sing around me and I told him, “you need to give yourself more credit. You have a beautiful voice.” Meanwhile, I’m asking for some knowledge from him, and he wouldn’t help me with ANYTHING. I have NEVER asked for a hand out. Just tell me where the door is, I will get in even if I have to pick the lock. But he not only pretended he didn’t know where the door was, he was holding the keys, had lock picks on the side and duplicates to share; But, for whatever reason...didn’t want to share that with me. Even though, I was going to include him in MY art without any thought and was willing to pay. Now, I have some thoughts on why he did this. But seeing as I’m on the verge of tears, I’ll end on that note.

...You wash away my dreams.”

[aspiratinganxiety]

Can I request the sleepover head canon ?💕

Of course you can, baby doll! I am sorry it took me so long to get to it… 

Anyway, I am writing these headcanons as though the reader and the character are already in an established relationship. Rather than offer a play by play of what sharing a night with this character looks like, I’m instead breaking down how the topic of overnight stays developed or effects the relationship between the reader and their partner.

If you were wanting platonic interactions or some first time sleeping over imagines, please let me know! Also, I tend to write female insert characters unless otherwise directed or inclined. 

If you’d like this same prompt with a male s/o, please tell me.  

Also, I ran out of steam before getting to Damian. I may very well come back to add him to this post. For now though, it is 3:17 am, and your girl is tired. 

Now, this prompt is the letter S from @imagine-mcu​‘s alphabet of headcanon prompts. Thank you, imagine-mcu. I am grateful for the access to this resource, and I hope you don’t mind that I am using it for DC materials 😂   

Dick: 

-Listen, you are positive that you’re not the first girlfriend whose home Richard Grayson has quietly annexed. There’s a method, okay? A foolproof strategy designed to optimize the amount of time he has with you at every opportunity. 

-As far as he’s concerned, it is the only logical way to progress in a relationship that he deems serious. His line of work is perilous, dammit. He’s a patient man, but he’s not a friggin’ saint. Tiptoeing through the awkward do-si-do of “should I stay or should I go?” every single time the two of you wind up fooling around in one or the other’s apartment is a waste of effort that could be geared toward activities that are much, much more fun.

-Even before you outright know that he’s Nightwing (you heavily suspect), Dick’s begun the invasion. First, he always wants to stay at your place. Works for you. Sleeping in your own bed is a gift, and he has a lot less to worry about in terms of hygiene maintenance.

-Why fight an agreeable tide? 

-And that’s just what he counts on for Phase 2. He wants to keep a change of clothes and some extra toiletries around your place now that it’s the go-to. 

-Some pajamas. 

-Maybe a jacket and a pair or three of socks. 

-Oh, yeah! He forgot to mention that Bruce sometimes calls him into the WE office on short notice to contract with the sub-company under his name. Could he have a sliver of your closet for a suit? He does’t want it to get wrinkled in the drawer you cleared out for his things.  

-Sure, normal enough… except that you’ve only been dating for a month n’ a half. Exclusively for a scant three weeks (Your last boyfriend lived out of a duffel bag that you kept by the shoe rack in your front room for 9 months before you even let him have the drawer).  

-Whatever. You and Dick both keep tight schedules, and it’s not as though anything is feeling rushed or overwhelming. Just the opposite: you feel like you can’t spend enough time with him! 

-You quickly make a habit of using his man-smell soap for a change of pace on occasion. Or a spritz of his cologne here and there when it’s been a busy week and you miss him, even though it’s only been 4 days since he was last there. 2 days since your lunch date. 

-Shut up.

-You haven’t quite mapped out the rest of the moves that he put into play, but before you know what’s happening, nearly all of the space in your weensy, Tupperware container of an apartment is divided equally between you and your boyfriend of less than three months. 

-All of this to say that Dick’s sleepovers don’t feel like sleepovers, they’re just Tuesdays. Or Saturdays. Or Wednesdays. Whatever the hell day he shows up, lets himself in with the spare key that you didn’t so much as hesitate to have made for him, and goes about eating all of your Frosted Flakes.

Jason:

-Sleepovers are rare for Jason toward the beginning of your relationship. Not just because he accidentally punched you in his sleep once, though that did put the kibosh on overnight visits for a while. The predominant reasoning that he cited when apologetically declining one of your invitations involved his hours being flipped completely around. Most nights, when sleepovers are meant to be happening, Jason is hard at work sussing out the details of a case or running a patrol. 

-Simply put, he felt like there was no reason for him to be skulking in and out of your place in the dead of night, disrupting your rest, just because he’s chosen to live one doozy of an unorthodox life. 

-However, this noble resolve deteriorates quickly.   

-Jason’s dedication and the singular advantage of being the only full-time vigilante in the whole batfamily also means that he’s out of the country on lengthy, long distance assignments more often than any of the others. 

-The nights Jason gets home from these missions had proven to be the best time for you to arrange overnight stays. Days, sometime weeks of being completely out of contact with one another has a way of asserting all of the comforts and satisfactions that you find in your partner’s company, both physically and emotionally. 

-He’s real weak to the line, “But baby, I’ve missed you so much!” too…

-10/10.

-It’s super effective!

-Look, it’s not like you pressed when you got the impression that he didn’t want to have you over or be at your place because he needed space to work through something risky or complicated. 

-You’re not stupid or some spoiled, manipulative brat. 

-Jason’s life is hard, painful, and incomprehensibly dangerous. He’s not looking to change one damn thing about that either. His lives exactly as he wants, minus some small tweaking here and there where old ghosts are concerned. 

-You understood this from day one.

-Unfortunately, it took a much longer time for him to figure out that you didn’t give a single fuck about missed sleep or nosy neighbors assuming he was a drug-dealer and filing complaints because he buzzed in at 4 o’clock in the morning. With the way that he lived…

-No, because of the way that he lived, you wanted to capitalize on every single moment that he could bear to spend with you. 

-Some people went lifetimes never knowing a love like the one you had for Jason. Hell would be seeing a snowstorm if you were gonna’ let the idiot continue to rob you of his presence because he was afraid of inconveniencing you. 

-Once that was through his thick, self-depreciating skull, the need to orchestrate sleepovers was no longer necessary. 

-You moved in together, renovating the loft he owned in the Cauldron district to be a bit more Welcome Home! and a lot less Marks with Bodyguards Cost Extra.

Tim:

-Oh, Tim. 

-Sweet, wonderful, awkward, angel-baby Tim. 

-The first time he slept over at your house, it was January. He passed clean out on your living room floor during a power-binge of Stranger Things that he had been apologetically procrastinating since the season release in October. 

-You didn’t have the heart to wake him, not even when he started to drool, snore, and suddenly sit bolt upright, shouting?

-His proclamations made zero sense: something abstract about Scarecrow robbing some guy named Oswald of his prized Wyandotte laying hens.

-A cursory attempt to talk to him indicated that he was still, to your horror, fast asleep in spite of sitting perfectly straight on his own and lecturing you about the dangers of yellow scented candles. 

-You settled him back down on your nest of blankets and flipped the TV off, loosely praying that this was some kind of fluke and you wouldn’t have to worry about your boyfriend accidentally leaping off of your balcony in a state of gibbering semi-consciousness. 

-You messaged him in a panic when you woke the next morning to find him missing, terrified that he slept-walked into traffic while you caught some rest on the floor beside him. You detailed the entire scenario for him, omitting nothing to spare his pride. (The man had scared you nearly to death. His ego wasn’t exactly your top priority when he said he’d snuck out because he liked sleeping in his bed better than he liked your floor.) 

- “Sexy, right?” he replied with a winky face.

-It wasn’t, he hadn’t, and he hasn’t ever since. The explanation: ”It only happens sometimes when I’m way too tired and I’ve had way too many energy shots.” 

-Even so, that first experience proved to be surprisingly indicative of the bizarre occurrences that would befall you when Tim ended up sharing a night with you.

-First the sleep talking, then staying up all night crouched over his laptop like some kind of gremlin while you slept not three feet away, arguing about the benefits of avoiding blue light in order to actually let your brain power down, and, finally, physically wrestling you to keep you from putting his phone in your nightstand drawer so that he would just lay the F down and go to bed.

-Tim does his best to gracefully make it seem as though your bickering is all in good fun despite your very real frustration with his lack of ability to focus on spending time with you and disengaging from his crippling responsibilities to both Wayne Enterprises and the endeavors of the Batman himself.

-You’re honestly still working on it, but he does forfeit all internet capable devices after 9 pm while in your home. 

-At first, it was out of obligation and only at your explicit request. Now though, having garnered some of the soundest, most rejuvenating sleep of his life every other week or so at your place, he tosses the phone in the drawer himself as you get ready to tuck in.

-Tim doesn’t know if it’s the regular sex or the down pillow-top on your mattress, but he can fall into blissful, dreamless unconsciousness in under half an hour by your side. 

-Perhaps it’s the near ritualistic way that you insist on sharing a cup of chamomile tea before heading toward your room? Maybe the laundry detergent or the weight of your too fluffy comforter?

-Regardless, shortly after he’s eagerly relinquishing his tech in favor of a solid night’s sleep and some quality time with you, an uptick in his demeanor and proficiency appears.

-You find it endlessly endearing that he needs a measurable statistic in order to justify asking you if he can stay over every week, rather than biweekly. As though you need data to be convinced to spend more time with him. 

The lovable idiot...  

[rockmiyabideusexmachina]

2019 Megaman Valentine’s Day (Humor) Contest Results!

Apologize for the delay on this once again. Didn’t expect to be posting these results nearly a month after Valentine’s Day, but the extended deadline did help make sure we got a healthy competition this year. Thank you to all for your patience!

I’m going to start out this year’s results thread with a totally appropriate callout 4-Koma that is not technically an official humor entry from SubzeroIceSkater, even though it fit the rules. But it’s worth posting, to publicly humiliate myself anyways:

I'll take my token Akane-in-an-entry bribery any way I can get it, since nobody felt inclined to draw Mrs. Stelar’s fresh, piping hot, iced cinnabuns for their talent entry this year...Did I just type that? I mean, um...

Play me off, Johnny!

I kid, I kid! After all, these contests aren’t about me, it’s about the characters you love and want to draw. And that’s what makes everyone’s entries unique and helps motivate you to create time after time. And I am grateful for it, whether you are a long-time participant, or the yearly new contestant.

I’ll be doing things a little different this year, because the post would be way too long if I kept everything in one. So this first post will just contain the Humor category, and I will have a second, separate post for the Talent category. Raffle prize winners will be contained in both posts, so keep an eye out after my commentary on your art, for some possible winners here. The rest will follow soon. I’ll be contacting all winners soon enough, so sit tight!

Here are your humor winners and full gallery of entries, after the break!

Category 2 (Humor) -  Princess Sigmia Returns

A much smaller group of entries for this category, but the zany mergers were great, all the same. I thank you all for getting as creative as you could with this concept, as it was a little more than just a mere gender swap you had to consider, when designing your combined character. Whether you won or not, know I truly enjoyed seeing all of these pics. 

I know imgbox gallery gave people some issues before, so as always, let me know if images or links appear broken. Crossing my fingers this works smoothly this year! XD

After each entrant’s name, there will be a link in the character description to the entry, too, just in case the inserted external images don’t load for you. 

[Full humor gallery]

1.) SubzeroIceSkater - Arc Weldy Falls In Love (featuring Tundroll.EXE the Arc Weldy, plus ‘Master Albert’)

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Comics with length and substance always seem to steal the show, and this year was no different. Joining the ranks of fenril-huayra, wintesm and so many others in recent years, I believe SubzeroIceSkater’s wonderful tale will stick with many of you, as much as it did me. As a humor piece, sure there are great sight gags and comedic lines all around, but it also has a lot of heart. You feel really bad for Arc Weldy to start out, but also feel so many emotions of compassion, friendship and love throughout. Wonderful work, and thank you for all the effort you put into this massive entry!

Also, are 21 pages not enough for you all? Well, SubzeroIceSkater also had ANOTHER 15 pages worth of ideas, alternates, and outtakes to go with this comic. And, while I won’t upload each link or image here, because this one entry is long enough, you can see them in THIS GALLERY LINK. They are also really great.

*For coming in 1st, SubzeroIceSkater has won $100 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

2.) @drewblossom​ - Geminette 

Nearly equally deserving in length, Drew’s comic more closely followed the Bowsette-style transformation gimmick to give Snake Man his comeuppance. The classic bait-and-switch kiss, turned on it’s head with a ‘lil Search Snake rather than a gross Toad Man, was a funny end. 

Design-wise, I really liked what you did to create Geminette’s look. Splitting his helmet crystals to the side as like dual hair broaches, and keeping the motif with the choker, armband, garter straps and chestplate, worked out nice. I can see why Snake was so easily charmed. 

*For coming in 2nd, Drew has won $50 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

3.) @wimzik​ - Rollbble.EXE

If dominatrix Devil Roll wasn’t enough of a pain in Rockman’s side, I shudder to think how bad a Bubble Roll would be, puku! Or, would her devotion to him be as great (or clingy) as Bubs was with Shademan-sama? 

Taking Bubbleman’s yellow flipper feet motif, and turning it into a fish fin design, both on her feet, legs, and hair ribbon, turned out pretty neat. If anything, I’m sure this transformation gives her very kissable lips, though! XD I have to wonder what her plan is with that Roll Navi Data chip, now that the chocolate is all gone, and what it will do to Rockman?

*For coming in 3rd, wimzik has won $25 via Paypal, or a prize of their choice up to that value.*

And the remaining wonderful entries, in alphabetical order by alias:

@3-oclock-blues​ - Dr. Willis 

What you talkin’ ‘bout, Wil-lis? Or Dr. WHY?!-ris, if you prefer. With that absolutely awesome wide-eyed grin, she’s hellbent on living together with Zero in a world where only Reploids exist. Being that they both have spent time piloting flying machine bodies, and have sorta possessed some form of an evil energy, it’s a rather fitting combo. Unless you are Zero, and it’s your dad and girlfriend merged into one being. Awk~waaaarrrd. 

The skull motif and spikes are subtle on Iris’ design, but fit in really well. Her bangs are just wild enough on both sides now, that it gives that Wily hair vibe, without having to give her a horrible, bushy mustache. XD

*3-OClock-Blues is the winner of Raffle Prize #2 - The X OCW artbook and Zero keychain*

@bracedshark​ - Mettayer

This might be a terrible concept, but I’m going to type it. When a Met pops out from under it’s helmet, especially in sprite form, usually all you can see is the whites of it’s dark, beady eyes under that helmet, on it’s dark grey/black blobby round body form. With Layer, you don’t get to see her eyes under her bangs, hardly ever. So staring at Mettayer’s underboob for too long, due to her chest armor mimicking a Met helmet, all I see is a Met’s pair of closed bottom eyelids, and I’m seriously waiting for those eyes to open up and start staring back at me. Would that not be the most wrong way for Mettayer’s eyes to work?! But I can’t unsee it! Her belly button even feels like a snoring, sleeping Met’s mouth. I’ll spare everyone of me editing this art to make my point. But it’s in your head now, isn’t it?

OK, despite that awful paragraph, this is one hot Metall Mommy. Sorry, I’m starting this paragraph off pretty badly, too, I guess. ^^; Despite my interpretation of the combination, the design elements do stand out in a unique way. The fiery reddish-pink hair seems like a different choice considering the characters merged, but it plays off the red of a Met’s mouth and earpiece, and, well, fitting for Valentine’s, too! And instead, you get the Layer color scheme in the pickaxe, so it still connects visually.

@drewblossom​’s 2nd entry - Roll n’ Rock

This bonus entry from Drew flips the genders of both DLN-001 and 002. I liked Roll’s hair bow converting into more of a bow tie, and Rock getting her version of Roll’s hoodie, in a Blue Bomber color scheme. The V-Day card concept, complete with crayon-ish name writing, made for a cute entry. Hearts all around!

@supernovabee​ - Bayer

No, there won’t be any paragraph about underboob eyes for this version of a Layer transformation, as supernovabee has merged her with Bass. Bayer loves belting out her hard and heavy siren song to woo prospective love interests during karaoke night. 

Keeping Layer’s purple hair here actually kinda still keeps a Treble Boost feel, that the color scheme fits seamlessly, to go along with the more obvious Layer armor design pieces.

[deepseawanderer-blog]

Because of You

Summary: Roselyn Parks was once in a loving relationship with Steve Rogers, but once things end, HYDRA takes her. Years later she’s back. Is she still the same Rose Steve once knew? Or did HYDRA turn her into something else entirely?

Warnings: Mentions of torture, cancer, heartbreak, angst, lots and lots of angst, Steve being kind of a douche, language, death, talk about death

Word Count ~ 6.4k

Authors Note: Ok, so this is my first time posting anything I’ve ever written and I’m honestly scared out of my mind. Let me know what you think, I have a few ideas about turning this into a series but I haven’t decided yet. Also, this fic kinda follows my own timeline from the Avengers universe. In it, Thanos was defeated, there was no snap, and everyone survived. Oh and this was slightly inspired by the song Missing by Evanescence (About 6 months after Loki’s attack on New York) 2012

     “Why?” I sounded so pathetic, so broken with one simple word.

     “Why? Rose, you’re joking right? You’ve completely pulled away the last six weeks. You avoid me almost entirely and you’re holding so many secrets Natasha would be impressed.” Steve ended his rant with a long sigh. “I can’t be with someone so closed off. It’s distracting me from the job I need to be doing. I can’t be worrying about you and if we’re ok when I should be focusing on missions and my teammates.”

     ‘So I was a distraction. I was a burden and putting people’s lives, Steve’s life, at stake. If I’m all of that now, there’s no way I can tell him.’ I thought to myself.

     “We need this break Roselyn.” he kneeled down so that we were face to face. I couldn’t help but flinch when he used my full name. “Look, I have another mission I have to go on, it’ll take me about a week. Take your time, there’s no reason to get everything out in one day.” He didn’t say anything else as he left, I didn’t either. There was nothing else to say. I couldn’t be a burden any longer and if I had said anything, it would have just prolonged the torture.

     I don’t know how many hours I sat at the edge of the bed. I expected to be heart broken, maybe even a little upset, but I didn’t expect to be numb. It was as if my brain was simply running on autopilot. I walked around the living space that Steve and I had shared for the last year. I picked up my favorite CD that Nat’s been begging me to borrow, I wrote down the recipe to my famous macaroni and cheese that Rhodey absolutely loves, and for Tony, I pulled out my stash of dried fruits that he would probably finish off within a day or two. “JARVIS, can you please send for a moving company to pack and have all my stuff put into storage?”

     “Yes Ms. Parks, the earliest they can manage is 9 A.M. tomorrow morning. Is that sufficient?”

     “Yes, that’ll be perfect. Thank you.” I packed a few suitcases of clothes, grabbed my miniature presents and headed to the communal kitchen. I placed everything on the center island and took a final look around. I guess everyone had been called away for this mission because there was no one here. I could feel the numbness cracking so I knew it was time to leave. I made it to my car and was able to drive away without any incidents, until my phone rang. My heart immediately jumped in my chest. ‘Was he calling to apologize? Did he think this was a mistake to break up? Does he still love me?’ These questions and a million more were running through my head. “Hello?” I finally answered shakily.

     “Hi, my name is Brenda, I’m calling from Dr. Wilson's office,” my heart sank, “is this Roselyn Parks?”

     “Yes.”

     “I’m calling to confirm your chemotherapy this Thursday at 2 o’clock. My records are showing that this will be your first treatment so we recommend not to eat anything starting from midnight the night before but to try and drink plenty of fluids. I’m sure Dr. Wilson has gone over what to expect but just in case--”

     “I--I understand, I’ll be there. Thank you.” I hadn’t meant to cut her off. I just didn’t want to hear everything all over again. I hung up the phone and everything seemed hit me, the damn completely crumbled and I finally broke down.

~*~

     “Alright Rose, that’s it for today. How are you feeling?” Dr. Wilson was a nice man. It was obvious he cared for his patients.

     “I’m doing ok, I sleep a lot and the nausea is still pretty bad, but I’ve been able to keep down some broth today. No hair loss just yet.” My lame version of a joke.

     “Well with the treatments we’ve been doing these past weeks, that might change.” He made a couple of notes while the nurse unhooked from the IV. “So we will see you again, same time next week. Are you sure there is no one we can call for you? You really shouldn’t be going through this alone.” Yes, Dr. Wilson definitely cared for his patients.

      “I’ll be fine Wilson, but thank you. My taxi should already be waiting for me.” I tried to smile but it probably looked more like a grimace. The last few weeks I’ve been living out of a suitcase in a hotel that was just a couple blocks away from the clinic but in those few weeks I hadn’t heard a thing from anyone. Steve I could understand keeping his distance, however, I at least thought Nat would call or text. It was total radio silence. They were probably busy saving the world and I didn’t want to distract them by calling and making a scene.

     I became lost in my thoughts as I climbed into the cab and rattled off the address. I was so out of it that I didn’t notice that the man driving the cab looked nothing like the man on the license. I didn’t notice him turning right instead of left, I didn’t even notice when he slipped on a gas mask and his metal hand glistened in the sun. I only noticed when a thick white smoke started seeping out of the air vents. Before I could even ask what the hell was going on, everything went black.

~*~

     My body weighed a ton. Moving was impossible, as if I was trudging through mud while trying to pull an elephant. I attempted to open my eyes but I don’t know if I succeeded or not, everything was pitch black. I could hear the squeaking of mice nearby, footsteps coming and fading away, and in the distance, if I really strained, I could hear someone screaming in agony. I really didn’t want to think about what was happening to that poor man because I knew that as soon as I started thinking about what was happening to him, I would start thinking about what they had in store for me. Whoever the hell ‘they’ were. That thought alone brought on a whole slew of questions. I was no one special, I had no money or power, I had no family to ransom, and I barely had any friends. Even my job wasn’t that exciting, I was a simple Sous Chef at a restaurant downtown, the only people who would benefit from me leaving were the ones gunning for my position and I highly doubt they’d go to these lengths to get it.

     I was alone with my thoughts for what seemed like days, but was probably only a few hours, before someone came. They threw the door open and I was immediately blinded by the bright lights. It didn’t bother me long though, they helped me out by throwing a disgusting sack over my head. A pair of hands each grabbed one of my arms and yanked me to my feet, I had no strength in my body to fight, let alone in my legs to walk, so they ended up dragging me to wherever they needed me to be. The screaming I had heard earlier was getting closer and it caused a cold sweat to break across my skin. ‘Is that where they’re taking me?’ I asked myself. Thankfully we passed the screaming man just as he stopped screaming. “The wipes complete, put him on ice until we need him again.” I heard a man order. ‘On ice? What the hell does that mean?’ I didn’t get to question it for long because I was soon lead through what I assumed to be a seperate room. I heard a door behind me slam shut and was promptly thrown on and strapped down to an ice cold, metal table. I could feel all types of electrodes being stuck to every part of my body, my blood pressure being taken, and needles poking and prodding me to set up IV drips. I could feel all of this, but for some reason I still could not find my voice to say or protest anything.

     “My Liebling, you’re behaving very well, maybe our time together does not have to be so bad, no?” his voice sent a shiver through my body that had nothing to do with the temperature of the table. Suddenly the bag was ripped from my head and I was blinded by a bright light shining directly at me. More electrodes were placed on my head as I attempted to blink away the blindness. “It is sad that we must meet on these types of situations, cancer is such a hard thing to fight and Dr. Wilson was right, you should not be doing it alone. We will be taking great care of you here, do not fret.”

     “Why,” my voice caught in my throat making me almost cough out a lung, “why am I here.” I croaked out. “What do you want with me?”

     “Sweet Liebling, did no one tell you?” He tisked. “You mean a great deal to a certain Captain and we need to be able to expose that. I believe I can make you into someone that will completely destroy him, if not physically, then mentally.” My vision was finally starting to clear up and I could finally make out my surroundings. The man talking to me had light brown hair that was neatly styled, blue eyes, and a pleasant looking face for someone so evil. The room I was in was a mix between concrete and metal, but all of it seemed to be sucking the life out of the very air. It was almost suffocating. There were other people milling around in white coats taking notes from the readings on the machines they had hooked me up to.

     “Hate to break it to you asswipe, me and the Captain broke up almost two months ago. He’s completely taken me out of his life and all of the Avenger’s lives.” I don’t know where my confidence came from, but I was going to hold onto it with everything I had while I could. “You just wasted all of this time and effort on someone that the Amazing Captain America could give zero fucks about.” I let out a nice chuckle without coughing, that’s progress in my book. However, when I took a look at the man’s face, all of my confidence drained away. He looked happy, but a sick and twisted kind of happy, a dark happy that I knew meant that horrible things were now in my future.

     “Now that is some great news Liebling.” he turned to a metal tray that was beside me and pulled up this bag that was filled with a weird blue-green looking mixture. He hung it up and fed it into one of the IV lines that was attached to me. “That tells me that I do not have to worry about killing you.” his smile seemed to grow sickenly bigger. “If you die, I will simply dump your body on his front door letting him know that this was all his fault. If you survive, you will be one of the strongest assets in our arsenal.” It was then that I felt the blue-green liquid entering my body. Everything was burning, my body was burning away from the inside out. I was boiling and melting all at once. It was the most intense pain I had ever felt and I couldn’t help the scream that ripped from me.

     I screamed for hours, they kept replacing the bags because for some reason, my body was just soaking the damn things up. People were huddled around the room taking notes and keeping track of my vitals but I didn’t care, I just wanted the pain to stop. I had almost passed out from the pain during the second bag but they quickly shot me up with something horrible to keep me conscious. The sick bastards wanted me awake and aware of everything that they would be doing to me. “Now I want you to remember, through all of this, everything you will go through while you are with us,” the sick man playing doctor sneered at me, “it is all Captain America’s fault.”

    After the 5th bag they decided they were done flooding my body with that poison and dumped me in a new room. This one was blindingly white, it reminded me of one of those rooms where they throw crazy people at insane asylums, except this one had an entire wall that was glass and none of the padding. These “doctors” wanted to be able to see what their poison would do to me. There was no bed so I made no effort to move from where they had thrown me, my body was still burning from the inside out but something else was happening. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something inside me was changing. I wasn’t necessarily feeling stronger or smarter. It was more like I felt deadly, no that’s not right either, I felt like death, as if I was turning into Death itself.

     ‘I am a burden,’ I thought to myself, ‘Steve was right. I am a burden and a distraction. I couldn’t even keep myself from getting kidnapped. I isolated myself and made it easy for them. I should’ve known better. Our relationship wasn’t secret by any means, I should’ve known that even with it over I would still be a target. Nat and them have to know I was taken by now and they’re going to save me and prove everything Steve said. The Doctor is wrong, it’s not Steve’s fault. It’s mine. I should’ve been stronger, I should’ve taken those self defense lessons Clint offered, I should’ve made myself better so that he wouldn’t have to worry about me. I should’ve been better at acting like everything was ok. I should’ve been better. He was right, I am a burden. I am a distraction.’

     I felt something building up in my chest, something big. I took a deep breath and released everything that had been going on for the last few months, my diagnosis, the break-up, the chemo and radiation, and all this torture. I let it all out with  a scream that pulled my already strained vocal cords. As I screamed, a pulse of power shot out of me turning my once pristine, white room into a rusted wasteland, the crystal clear glass was yellowed with age and covered in spider-web cracks, the doctors behind the glass were on the floor, horrible blisters and sores covering their skin. I passed out staring into their dead, bloodshot eyes, and a smile on my face.

♛

(About three years after Infinity War where Thanos was defeated and no one died) 2021

Please, please forgive me,

But I won’t be home again,

Maybe someday you’ll have woke up,

And, barely conscious, you’ll say to no one;

“Isn’t something missing?”

     The music was barely a whisper in my headphones but I could hear it perfectly. I could hear everything, even with all the people crammed into the open courtyard. If I wanted to, I could listen in on any conversation that was happening in a two mile radius, but that would have to wait. There was only one conversation I was interested in eavesdropping on and it was between the two super soldiers standing up on the center stage waiting for this farce of a “peace treaty” to begin. “Come on punk, why do I have to be here? The world still views me as an evil assassin, I’m the last one that should be at a peace signing.”

     “Buck, we’ve been over this, ever since Thanos, the world has realized that everyone needs to set aside their differences and work together to keep Earth safe. You are a perfect example of that, plus, you are a part of the team and we’ve all been invited to attend. Also, if I have to stand up here and do this, you bet your ass you do too.” he finished with a light laugh and big smile on his face.

You won’t cry for my absence, I know

You forgot me long ago.

Am I that unimportant?

Am I so insignificant?

Isn’t something missing?

Isn’t someone missing me?

     A red faced dignitary walked up to the podium, signalling the start of the conference and the crowd began to calm down. I turned my music off and started walking towards one of the many exits, getting into position. This courtyard was actually a horrible place to be hosting a signing, too much exposure, too open. The stage for all the foreign dignitaries and the Avengers had no protection from the crowd. Sure, the courtyard was in the middle of a castle-like building, but there were too many windows to be covered. The security was a joke; they barely had a metal detector. It was child’s play to get everyone inside, if anything, these foreign dignitaries deserved what was about to happen. Just because it’s a peace treaty, doesn’t mean everyone is going to be ‘peaceful’.

     I waited until he was a few minutes into his speech about finally taking the first steps towards world peace before I pulled the mirror out of my pocket and flashed it to the roof behind the stage. My men started making a small comotion, drawing the attention of everyone on stage. Everyone except for Sergeant Barnes, he had been looking my direction since I signaled with the mirror. He nudged Captain America to help him scan the area. The commotion was getting louder. The Avengers were starting to draw their weapons and herd the dignitaries to safety inside the walls. I signaled with the mirror again. Sergeant Barnes’ eyes immediately zeroed in on me as well as Captain America’s. ‘Good,’ I thought to myself, ‘he needs to see that this is all his fault.’ I kept my eyes locked with his as I descretley pulled out my handgun from my purse. I could see the gears turning in his head, he knew me somehow. Right then a shot rang out from the other side of the courtyard, people immediately dropped to the floor and screamed. Sergeant Barnes and Captain America whipped around to face where the shots came from, leaving me a perfect shot. I raised my gun and took aim. “Oh Captain, I’m disappointed,” I spoke normally but I know he heard me, his back stiffened and he turned to face me, “I thought someone would have taught you to never turn your back on a threat.” His eyes widened at the sight of the gun but it was too late, I squeezed the trigger and braced for the minimal kick back. Captain America reacted by bringing up his shield to protect his chest and head but it did no good, I wasn’t aiming that high. Yelling out in pain, he hit the floor grabbing his leg. Blood was already beginning to pool around his knee where the bullet had shattered. He would heal eventually, but until then he’d be in a lot of pain and he’ll be in even more when they have to open the wound back up to try and dig out all the shards of the hollow point bullet.

     I was able to slip out just as easily as I had slipped in, all it took was some fake tears and pretending to hyperventilate and security waved me through with the rest of the crowd. I was able to branch away and sneak down a hallway towards the room they had huddled all the dignitaries into. There was one last thing I had to do before I could leave. There were no guards outside the stupidly open door but the Falcon had placed one of his drones right above it. Lucky for me, I had full view of my intended target. The red faced dignitary from the opening speech was looking a little more worse for wear. He was about the shade of a tomato, a few boils and blisters were starting to cover his face and hands, sweat was drenching his clothing, and his eyes were starting to turn a little yellow. But though the outward physical symptoms were great, there was one I had to zero in on, I strained my hearing and listened closely, blocking out every noise around me until I found the one I was looking for. It was the stuttering and faltering heartbeat of the dignitary that brought a smile to my face and confirmed that today was a success. By the time the medics made it to him, he was long dead and I was in my car speeding away with my music blasting and happily singing along.

Even though I’m the sacrifice,

You won’t try for me, not now.

Though I’d die to know you love me,

I’m all alone.

Isn’t someone missing me.

~*~

     “I want a full break down of what the hell happened today. How did so many hostiles manage to get in without so much as a blimp on the security? Tony! What good are your scanners if they can’t even pick up hand guns?” Bucky was barking out as they rushed Steve’s gurney into the med wing.

     “Buck, calm down.” Steve managed to groan out. “I’m fine, everyone is fine.”

     “Not everyone Cap,” Natasha matched Bucky’s long strides, “Ambassador Berkley is dead, official ruling is a stroke.”

     “And the non-official?” he asked. His stomach dropped slightly at the thought of someone dying on his watch.

     “Poison. They’re running a tox screen now to figure out exactly what type but it may take a day or two.”

     “Perfect,” Bucky cut in, “the punk here can use that time to explain to me how he knew the broad that literally blew out his knee.” Much to Steve’s relief, Dr. Cho came through the doors right as Bucky was crossing his arms, expecting an answer, and shooed them all away so that they could work on getting all the shrapnel out.

     The procedure was only two hours but Steve was in hell the entire time. His body kept burning through any sedative they gave him, no matter how strong they made it. Dr. Cho didn’t want to risk an overdose, so Steve insisted on continuing without one. So when the screaming finally stopped, nothing was going to keep Bucky out of that hospital room. Steve had been there for him countless times, it was Bucky’s turn to be there for him. He just had to get some answers first.

     “I thought I was supposed to be the heartbreaker punk. You were supposed to be America’s ‘Golden Boy’.” Steve tried to bury himself further into the bed in hopes of disappearing. “Yet here you are, broke some gal’s heart so bad that she put a bullet through your knee.” When he didn’t get any response Bucky sighed and sat at the edge of the bed. “Just give me a name to start with. We need to know who she is and what kind of contacts she has to be able to pull something like this off.”

     “She wouldn’t do this Buck. She was a simple chef, we never even should have--”

     “I don’t need the whole story yet, we can do that later. Right now I just need her name.”

     “Roselyn Marie Parks.” Steve answered in a defeated sigh. “But I swear to you Buck, you’re not going to find anything.”

     “I know you have more experience with it, but I wouldn’t count FRIDAY out just yet.” They settled into a somewhat comfortable silence, at least on Bucky’s end. He was reading an old book, the pages worn from use, the corners dog eared over and over again, simply enjoying the quiet. Steve on the other hand, he was lost. Lost in his own whirlwind of thoughts. What was she doing there? Was she really with that group of thugs? She had hated guns and yet shot him without hesitation. What had happened to change all that? Could the breakup really be what made her dark? He didn’t think it was possible, there was no way someone as innocent as Rose could’ve gone dark with just a breakup.

     “Captain Rogers, Sergeant Barnes, Ms. Romanoff has requested your immediate presence at the labs.” FRIDAY interrupted the silence, startling Steve and Bucky so much that he dropped his book.

     “Jeeze FRIDAY, med wing is supposed to be quiet. You’re going to give someone a heart attack.” Bucky grumbled. “Steve can’t go anywhere, he just had surgery. If Natasha wants us, she can come up.”

     “Barnes, Captain,” Nat almost sneered his title, “if you don’t come down here, I will drag you down myself.” it wasn’t a threat. It was a promise.

     “Nat, come on, Steve just--”

     “Barnes, the Captain is going to come down here. If his leg is still an issue I’d be happy to cut it off for him.” her tone made no room for arguments. Whatever she needed them for was big and Steve had a rotten feeling in his gut he knew exactly what it was about.

     They made it down to the labs with minimal hardships. Steve was only slightly limping because he absolutely refused to use the cane Bucky and Dr. Cho handed him. Part of it was Sam and Clint would never let him hear the end of it if they saw him walking around with a cane and the other part of it was because he walked slower without the cane and he wanted to do everything in his power to  stall what he knew was about to happen. As they turned the corner and the labs came into view, Steve’s heart hit the floor. Their looks said it all, they knew. Tony was almost red with fury and Nat was trying to hide her pain through a mask of rage, but the hurt was easily seen in her eyes. The others looked on, confused to why they were so upset. Tony pointed to a chair that was situated in front of everyone and a bunch of screens. Rose’s smiling face was plastered everywhere. Her hazel eyes shining with glee as she was captured mid laugh, her wavy chocolate hair was thrown in a messy bun and her face had speckles of flour everywhere. Steve remembered that day, she had tried to teach him how to bake and it had somehow turned into a miniature food fight. They had made a huge mess, but the cookies they had made were some of the best ones he had ever had. “Let’s get everyone on the same page here Cap.” Tony finally spoke. “How do you know our shooter, Roselyn Parks?”

     “We dated. We were together for almost two years. She had just finished moving in with me when New York happened. After a few months she started pulling away from me so I broke it off. I haven’t seen her since. Not until the assembly. But you all have to understand--” Tony cut him off.

     “Tell Nat why she wasn’t able to contact Rose. Tell me why none of us were able to at least call her and make sure she was ok. She wasn’t actually ignoring any of the calls or messages, was she?” he felt Bucky stiffen up behind him, probably not liking the way Tony was interrogating him right now but he deserved their hostility.

     “No, I had JARVIS reroute all incoming and outgoing messages. She never knew. I had thought it would be easier for her if we were all out of her life for good.” he was barely speaking above a whisper, after all this time he was finally able to see how stupid that had been. “JARVIS would alert me whenever she would call. I never had the nerve to listen to the voicemails.”

     “You still have them?” Nat was beyond shocked. What kind of spy was she if she never questioned Rose’s sudden disappearance. She had thought they were friends. She thought that Rose was actively trying to avoid them. She should have tried harder to talk to her. At Nat’s question, Steve nodded and dropped his head. Yes, he had kept all the voicemails, emails, text messages, everything she had tried to contact them was tucked away in a flash drive hidden in his room.

      “We’ll get to that in a minute Cap, right now let’s do a little reading exercise shall we? I’m going to bring up a page and you’re going to read it. Every. Single. Word.” Tony didn’t wait for a response, instead he brought up a couple documents on one of the screens and expanded it so that everyone could see it. “Go ahead Cap, tell us what you see.”

      “The first one is a general bio about Rose. Born July 20th, 1989. Lived in Texas, California, Arizona, Florida, and New York. Job history, every kitchen she’s worked at.”

     “Keep going.”

     “The next page is…” his heart shattered, “No, this can’t be right.” Steve looked around the room. This had to be a joke of some kind. A cruel and horrible joke. “It’s a missing persons report? But that’s not right, this was filed around two months after the break up. I was still getting notified about calls years after that.”

     “I said, keep going.” Tony’s voice was harsh and unforgiving. Steve paled and choked on his words when he saw the next page.

     “She was presumed dead?” Bucky asked instead. “What the hell’s goin on? Steve said he was getting calls years afterwards. How is that possible?”

     “I’m going to ignore that question based on the soul fact that we have two people in this room that were presumed dead for 70 years and are still alive and kicking. One of ‘em may not be for much longer though. Instead I’m going to ask you to focus on a certain name. Look who filed the missing person’s report and signed her death certificate.” Two boxes on the screens highlighted the area Tony was talking about and zoomed in on them. “A Dr. James Wilson. Do you know Dr. Wilson Cap? Do you know what he specializes in? No? He’s an oncologist. She had cancer, a brain tumor actually.” he waved his hands around the screen and a bunch of medical files popped up. “She had been seeing him for about 4 months before she was reported missing. Doc said there was no way she’d survive 6 months without treatment so when she stopped showing up for appointments, he knew something was wrong. He knew. A stranger knew something was wrong. But her friends? Her supposed friends that could have actually done something to help her? We had no damn clue.” His eyes were beginning to water.

     “Boss, the decryptions and translations are completed.” FRIDAY’s announcement stopped Tony from continuing.

     “Bring it all up.” He turned to Steve. “FRIDAY found some files talking about Rose, files from HYDRA.” Bucky visibly stiffened at the name. It had been years since he’d been under their control, but the nightmares and scars from what they did would never go away.

      “They wanted to use her to destroy Steve.” Nat grabbed a tablet and started going through all the information. “They figured he wouldn’t be able to fight against the woman he loved. Once they learned about the break up they went a different route.” She swiped around, none of the pictures were of her. They were all of dead bodies, bodies covered in lumps and sores, eyes bloodshot, and faces frozen in terror. “These people look exactly like Ambassador Berkley when he was pronounced. Rose did all of this?” What had they done to her? She continued to swipe through the information.  “They have videos.” her hand froze above the tablet. Did they want to see what they did to her? Could they handle it? Tony didn’t wait for an invitation, he brought up the first clip and played it. It showed Rose in a rusted over, metal looking cell. Her ankle was shackled to the wall, there was a dingy mattress on the floor, a bucket in the opposite corner, and her and her clothes were covered in cuts and dirt. A man walked into the room, handed Rose a cell phone, careful not to touch her, and walked back out. Rose looked dumbfounded at the phone. She repeatedly looked between the phone, the door, and back. After a few seconds she quickly unlocked the phone and brought it up to her ear. The look on her face was pure hope, at least it was for a few seconds.

     “S-Steve, it’s me.” her voice was almost a whisper and sounded so broken. “I don’t know what happened, but HYDRA got to me. You have to listen to me when I say this, don’t come and get me. I don’t know what they’re playing at, they gave me my phone back and just walked away. It has to be a trap. Please, don’t do anything stupid, I’m not worth it.” At this point she was crying. “You were right, I was a distraction, I should’ve been better. I’ll be ok though, I know I won’t last long in here, I never had much time to begin with. Take care of yourself ok? Tell Nat to let Clint win a spar every now and again and tell Rhodey that he better not share my recipe with anyone ok? And talk to Tony, he’s struggling, I know he is. He’s just acting like he’s fine but please try and talk to him. Goodbye.” As soon as she hung up the phone, the door burst open and four men rushed in. One took the phone away, two pinned her down, and the last one secured her hands in a metal box before unlocking her ankle. They dragged her out kicking and screaming.

     The video cut out and the room was surrounded in silence. Sam was about to tell Tony to stop, there was no need to see all the videos, it would just torture them, but Nat played the next one before he could even finish his thought. It started the same way as the first one, the only difference was that Rose’s hair was a few inches longer. They couldn’t get a good look at her face though and were slightly thankful for that. “Steve.” her voice was strained this time, as if she had been screaming. “I don’t know why they keep making me do this. I don’t know what I want anymore. I don’t want to be here, the things they’re making me do, the things they’re doing to me…” she took the phone away from her for a second, took a deep breath, and continued on, “I want to be selfish and ask you to come save me but I won’t. Stay away from here, wherever here is, but don’t come. Don’t send the team. Don’t put anyone in danger trying to get me out. I won’t last much longer, I know it. Hopefully this  is actually goodbye this time.”

      This time it was Rhodes who played the next video. “What did I do wrong Steve? What did I do to deserve this? You’ve abandoned me and I want to know why!” Rose was crying and screaming in hysterics. “Please get me out, please, please. I can’t take this anymore. I wasn’t supposed to still be alive. They did something to me. I was supposed to be dead by now. Please Steve, I can’t do it anymore. Please.” she was so broken. When the men came to drag her away, she didn’t put up a fight at all.

      The next video played. “You fucking asshole! This is all your fault! How could you think-No, screw that. You didn��t! You don’t think about anyone besides yourself and your fucking Avenging bullshit. I’m in here being tortured on a daily basis, experimented on all damn day, being turned into who knows what and you’re fucking ignoring my pleas for help!” Rose took the phone and threw it against one of the cell walls. When the doors slammed open, she let loose a rage filled yell and shoved her hand into the face of the first man through the door. Smoke immediately started raising from the contact, his face started breaking out in sores, and within a few seconds he dropped to the floor, most likely dead, his bloodshot eyes and face were frozen in terror. Before she could get her hands on one of the other guards, she was hit with a cattle prod, effectively electrocuting her and incapacitated her long enough to get her hands back in the metal box and dragged out of the room.

     “No more, please don’t make me watch anymore.” Steve hadn’t even tried to keep the tears back once the first video started playing. He could only pray that they would take some type of mercy on him and not play anymore. Sam took the tablet from Nat, she was too shell shocked to put up a fight. He swiped through the videos and landed on the last one.

     “I know why they’ve been forcing me to make these calls.” her voice was even, cold, calculated. “Did you know that my phone has been on this entire time? GPS enabled and everything. You could’ve found me the second they took me. But you didn’t, they were right. They said no one cared about me, no one would notice I was gone, no one would miss me. They’ve been trying to break me for two years now, I don’t know how I held out this long.” there was a long stretch of silence. “I killed 8 people today. I didn’t even have to touch them. I wish I could say that I feel some kind of remorse but I don’t feel much of anything anymore. I know I’ve said this before, but now I mean it, this will be my final goodbye. They don’t need to prove their point anymore. I’m forgotten, alone. They finally won.” Rose hung up the phone and held it out towards the door. This time only one man came in, he gingerly took the phone and motioned her towards the door. With a defeated sigh, she walked through them willingly.

♛

[girltodaywomentomorrow]

Captain Planet, he's She’s our hero,

Gonna take pollution down to zero,

He's She’s our powers magnified,

And he's She’s fighting on the planet's side

1. Likeability is stupid, I type as I check to see how many likes the picture I just posted on Instagram has received. I am lying to myself, as I am sure Greta Thunberg is. She is quoted as saying, “I don’t care about being popular, I care about climate justice.” Sure, a part of me believes that but, Greta Thunberg comes off to me as that girl in class who challenges the teacher’s lesson. While everyone else is class is simply absorbing the information in front of us, she is questioning it. She is excessively smart for her own good and because she has something that sets her apart from others, I am sure she feels ostracized. I am sure her parents sat her down once or twice, told her being different will change the world someday, you know the whole after school special on bullying that Nancy Regan would approve of! I can tell by her speeches that I have read in her book, No one is too Small to Make a Difference that she truly believes herself to be “… just a messenger…” as she says in her I’m Too Young For This speech. However, in the same sentence she also says, “…and yet I get all the hate…” So yes, Greta doesn’t care about being popular, her passion right now is climate change, but the hate is affecting her and how could it not? Greta Thunberg is just sixteen years old and she is carrying the weight of the future on her shoulder. Her parents, if they believe it or not, were right, her differences are changing the world for the better and people hate that. Once she made the decision, herself, against the judgement of her family and friends that she would protest for climate change she put herself in a position that made her vulnerable. Greta, again, is an intelligent girl. She knows she will not be someone’s favorite person, she knows bad names will be thrown her way, and that others will speak down to her. If she were a normal teenager, the change she is bringing to the world would not be occurring right now. She knows that being popular isn’t her main objective-its climate reform. If Greta Thunberg put popularity over climate change, she could not be the messenger. She was a born messenger and I am thankful for her message

2. A year ago, September 2019, thousands of young people marched with Greta Thunberg in New York City for #climatestrike. I was not one among them but I have since researched the event and even watched the live stream. This movement had started 3,919 miles from where the march was occurring. This march would not have happened if one girl, Greta Thunberg decided to take a stand. Her perseverance created a movement. Although I wasn’t marching with her, the aftermath of her strike had repercussions that are still hitting us today. I look at all the posters that were made and they speak volumes for what that day meant, here are just two that I liked:

3.

Greta Thunberg has a gift. She has Asperger’s syndrome, which helps her see things in “black or white”. In October 2018, Thunberg said something I find very profound about herself, “I think in many ways that we autistic are the normal ones and the rest of the people are pretty strange.” The way Greta views the world is powerful because if she viewed it any other way, I believe she would not be able to speak on such an important topic. “There are no grey areas when it comes to survival.” She sees the world so simply that when something does not make sense, she needs to make sense of it. Honestly, I grew up thinking climate change was too difficult to talk about. Reading Greta’s speeches, having her teach me in the simplest terms helped me a lot. Some people over complicate things and it not only confuses people but also makes them loose interest. Greta’s simplification really helps get her message across. We needed someone who can see this as a cut or dry situation because it then showed us how intense this situation really is.

4.

Everything was put on hold when the pandemic occurred on March 16th, 2020. Understandably, to many the world was ending, but what few people forget is that the world has been ending for a while. During the first weeks of the pandemic as we stayed inside we saw how animals were going back to their natural areas, how China’s air become cleaner with people stuck inside. We saw directly how much humans are the problem to this world. Although it felt as though we were in a long game of freeze tag, the pandemic has been great for raising awareness for many causes. The Black Lives Matter movement had a massive shift of support during the pandemic and climate change is right on its heels. In June, at the height of the pandemic, where no end seemed in sight and the world as Greta loves to tell us, was “on fire”, many were dismissing 2020 and calling for its end but on Instagram one post started being reposted and it struck me right in the heart: “What if 2020 isn’t cancelled? What if 2020 is the year we’ve been waiting for?....A year that screams so loud, finally awakening us to from our ignorant slumber…declare change…become the change…a year we finally band together…2020 isn’t cancelled…[it’s] the most important year of them all…” There is no time like the present and no other time then now during this pandemic where we can really make a difference in many issues we are having around the world.

5. Greta Thunberg and Beyoncé have a lot in common, my favorite thing that they have in common. They both know who runs the world-girls. Greta famously said, “…if a few girls can get headline lines all over the world…imagine what we can do together if we wanted too?” The power in this question is so profound. Unity is our best bet in saving this planet and in fixing many other problems in this world. At sixteen, this young woman knows the power females hold. Although we support anyone trying to make the world a better place, seeing such a young female take center stage is important to many because they can look towards them and think, “Hey they did this! I can too!” In Hamilton the musical, there is a famous line where, two immigrants say, “immigrants-we get the job done” and I believe in her own way Greta is saying, “Young women- we get the job done!”

6.

“…I don’t want your hope. I want you to panic…I want you to act as you would in a crisis...” Millennials and Generation Z are constantly told that they are the give-me give-me generation. We have everything we could ever want and yet we “still want more” We were put on this planet when it was started to burn from other people’s mistakes but instead of them putting out their own fires, we have too. Except we are “too young”, “not experienced enough” and we “don’t know what we are talking about.” I think they just don’t understand. They have idea of what being “young” is like but their experiences are different than ours. They were not given a planet that was burring as badly as it is now. They were taught how to stop drop and roll but instead of doing that as our world is burning up, they have stopped caring and dropped this subject when we bring it up to them. They “hope” for the best for us as they still there and enjoy the fruits of their “labor” That’s why Greta Thunberg’s closing statements in her famous “Our House is on Fire” speech are so important. We do not need your hope. We need action right now because what they choose to do or not do directly affects us. They want to be protectors but they are not. They are acting like nothing is wrong when we are in a crisis. The younger generation is acting like it why can’t they?

7.

Every great moment in history is lit with one spark. World War 2 was sparked by the assassin of a duke while today’s current BLM protests were sparked by George Floyd’s murder and our climate change reform has been sparked by an incredible young women, Greta Thunberg. Again, all these sparks were needed for actions to occur but to keep momentum for racial injustice and climate change we need to keep going we need to be the “wildfires” as Naomi Klien said. I have just joined the wildfire. Prior to quarantine, I really didn’t put much effort into saving the planet. I didn’t have time. I know that sounds selfish but I had school, two jobs, an internship and I also wanted to sleep. With quarantine and even just reading Greta’s book, I was able to become more aware of things going on in the world and what I can do to help. The simple things I do is recycle more, I have meatless Mondays and I have started making my baked foods to be vegan. Its with these small steps that I am making an effort to be a wildfire.

8.

Autumn Peltier- A 15 year old indigenous girl from Canada who advocates for clean water around the world