#working on specific internal jokes for days so i can make my friend(s) cry laughing

[re-discover-communication]

Every once in a while I get this sudden urge to send positive anon asks to people I care a lost about even though they don't even know I exist. Probably. Just to, I don't know. Cheer them up? Be sure that they get at least one positive moment and a "Oh, someone has thought about me today" in their day. Have them know that someone does care about them. And I suppose this urge somehow comes from the lack of and desire for interactions I have here. I've been alone like a rock in my main blog for five years, now that I created this one and linked it to my ao3 and I've experienced 🌠the interactions 🌌 it feels so much lonelier when I don't get any. Which then makes me go "if I post another fic people will reach out and leave comments/reblog/send asks" (the emotions I went through when I received my first ask, oh man). Which isn't exactly the right thing to do/think. But it's exactly what happens. So now that I'm between two fics (The Growls and the WIP) and here it's mostly silent now, like the saying goes, if people don't come to me I go to them. Kind of. It's a sort of coping mechanism. "I'm sad and lonely. Let's send some positivity to someone." And then they reply saying I made them feel better and I feel better too.

[marzmeltdown]

Familiar Taste of Poison - PT 2

⌦ Pairing: Wonwoo x Reader ⌦ Genre(s): series,, angst,, fluff ⌦ chapter specific genre: fluff,, angst ⌦ Warning(s): !!TW:Drug Use, Alcohol Abuse, mentions of depression!!, reader kinda uses Wonwoo, a lot of this will be in multiple pov's(I will clarify when it changes pov's), some mention of being sick, swearing, ⌦ Word count: 1.39k ⌦ Summary: You and Wonwoo have been friends since childhood, though you're both a little estranged from one another, the only contact being when you call Wonwoo for help. ⌦ A/N: If there's anything you feel I should improve on in the future, don't hesitate to let me know! You can find progress updates on this story and everything else I write in my pinned post every Wednesday.:) ⌦ I have attached a link to a website with help hotlines around the world, this series has heavy themes of mental health and substance abuse. This link will be added to every chapter.⌦ International Mental Health hotlines ⌦ Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6

⌦ (Wonwoo's POV) Wonwoo hadn't heard from you for a few days after you had called him for help, and to be honest, he wasn't too upset about it. Not that he didn't enjoy your company, or your friendship for that matter, but because he'd finally accepted his worth when it came to your relationship. So to say he was surprised to hear from you on a Wednesday afternoon before 5:00 p.m. was nothing short of an understatement.

Wonwoo glanced down at his phone when it began to ring, seeing the caller ID of the two of you in some goofy pose with your name at the top being displayed on the screen. He paused the video game he was playing and answered the phone, leaning back in his gaming chair, preparing himself to have to roleplay as your friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

"Hey, y/n, what's up?" He asked, pushing his keyboard farther up the desk so he could play with the corners of the mouse pad he used to decorate his desk.

"Hey, Wonwoo, are you busy?" You asked. It was odd that Wonwoo's packed schedule had suddenly become a cause for concern, but for once he was free. Wonwoo had to move the phone from his ear to double check who had called him, and just as he suspected, the caller ID was his childhood nickname for you.

"Uh, I'm just playing a video game at the moment; why?" He asked once he had placed the phone back to his ear. His heart began pounding like a drum as his mind began to wander to the multiple scenarios that you could have found yourself in. Most, if not all of them, were related to being cross-faded and stranded at some party in the early hours of the morning. At one point, he almost asked you to move in with him because he had picked you up so much.

"My parents have pissed me off, and I just need to get my mind off things." You sighed, and he chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, should he get involved this time? Or should he let you fall on your face? Who was he kidding? He was always going to be your knight in shining armor.

"Okay, I can be there in like 30 minutes," he said, knowing he would be getting an earful from you about how your parents don't know what you're talking about and that it's 'not alcoholism until you graduate college.' Which is probably the most confusing thing Wonwoo has ever had the displeasure of hearing; obviously, you as well as everyone else knew that wasn't how that worked. But he wasn't there to be your therapist; his job was to be the shoulder you cry on regardless of the time of day, or night, rather.

"Awesome, I'll be in the backyard when you get here. If I have to hear my dad compare my lifestyle to one of his patients one more time, I think I might combust," you said, the sound of a sliding glass door opening and shutting following shortly behind your voice.

"I don't think you'll combust," Wonwoo laughed, turning off his PC as he got around to leave.

"I just might," you joked, making an explosion noise with your mouth to emphasize your point, to which Wonwoo replied with another laugh.

"Whatever, I'll be there soon," Wonwoo said before hanging up the phone.

⌦ (Reader's POV) Waiting for your best friend to show up had to be the longest 30 minutes of your life. You had decided to occupy yourself by pulling pieces off gras out of the ground only to toss them right next to where they had once lived unprovoked. It was barely 5:00 pm and you were already buzzed, if you had to be honest, there almost never was a time where you were sober.

That was a thought you pushed out of your head as soon as you heard your mother's screaming voice announcing Wonwoo's presence. You snapped your head up from the patch of grass you were ruthlessly attacking and to your childhood best friend, he smiled softly and sat next to you.

"Are you okay?" Wonwoo whispered, knowing your mother was only an ear shot away. She had always been within earshot of the two of you from the day you two met in the fifth grade and he had come over for your eleventh birthday party.

"I'll be better when we get out of here," you whispered back, wiping any stray pieces of grass and dirt from your hands as you stood and doing the same to the back of your pants. Judging by your glossed-over eyes, uneven balance, and slurred words, Wonwoo could tell that your parents concerns were valid.

"Alright, do you have any places in mind?" Wonwoo asked, following your actions. You didn't have any plans in mind; you almost never did. Everything you did was spontaneous, which is part of the reason why you had only one reliable friend. If you could call him a friend, for that matter.

You weren't sure why Wonwoo had insisted on holding your elbow as he walked you to your car, you were perfectly fine to your knowledge at least.

"We should get ice cream and then go back to your house," you suggested after Wonwoo had started driving.

Wonwoo didn't say anything as he drove to a small ice cream parlor in town. The parlor had been open since you two were knee-high to a grasshopper. Your order had been the same since you were five: a small twist with a cone in a cup and sprinkles. Wonwoo always gave you a funny look when you ordered such a childish form of the desert, but you'd rather order what you enjoy than a plain chocolate shake.

You were on ice cream-holding duty, following Wonwoo to a picnic table that sat under an old oak tree.

"So, are you going to tell me why your parents made you upset, or am I supposed to guess?" Wonwoo asked as soon as the both of you sat down. You looked at him for a moment, almost taken aback by his bluntness. He sipped on his milkshake for a moment, awaiting your answer.

"Uh, my parents' are concerned about how much I party." You said it softly, looking down at your rainbow-sprinkled ice cream and moving the spoon around to mix the sprinkles in with the ice cream.

"And?" He asked again.

"I told them I didn't need to go; I don't have a problem," you said, looking up from your ice cream and back to your best friend. "Do you think I have a problem?"

"When has my opinion ever mattered?" He asked, and his words felt sharp against your chest. You'd grown used to having friends that encouraged your destructive behavior, so the honesty was a shock of reality.

"What's that mean?" You asked, and your body started to tremble with irritation.

"I'm just saying, ever since we decided to go to separate colleges, my opinion holds no value to you anymore," he shrugged, poking his straw around the inside of his cup in order to loosen up some of the ice cream that was still too thick to flow through the straw easily.

"I care about your opinion!" You said you were offended that he thought that. Why would he think that? His opinion has always meant so much to you.

"When it's what you want to hear," he said, his voice still so calm, which only irritated you more. How could he be so calm in this situation?

You decided you had enough of Wonwoo's third degree, furiously standing up to storm off. You'd gotten halfway to the parking lot before stalking your angry self back to the picnic table. You snatched the ice cream cup from the table and turned around without a word, continuing your journey to, well, wherever you ended up.

You grabbed your phone from your back pocket, opening the messaging app and then the group chat you had with some college friends. You already had a message from them.

⌦ Yejun: Wanna go out tonight? (read 4:29 pm)

⌦ You: Yea, we can get ready at my place (read 4:30 pm)

⌦ Yujin: Great, we'll meet you there. (read 4:32 pm)

[lycorogue]

A Family Tradition: Giving Thanks Tree

Tina Belcher - Image care of “Bob’s Burgers” on Fox

When I was a kid - I can’t even remember how old I first was - my mother would tape a cardboard cutout of a bare tree onto the attic door. Along its trunk were the words “Giving Thanks Tree”. She would then hang up a manila envelope filled with leaves cut out of red, orange, and yellow construction paper. Our goal for the month of November, leading into Thanksgiving? Write just one thing we’re thankful for each day and then hang it up on the cardboard tree so it is full by the end of the month.

As a child I HATED this tradition. It was so hard for me to think of 30 unique things I was grateful for, and usually ended up with generic things like “food” or “a home” or “boys” (I was a bit like Tina there). It wasn’t until college did I truly get the value of taking a few minutes each day to think about a blessing in your life you may have otherwise taken for granted. It was hard for me my freshman year of college to know I couldn’t participate in the family Giving Thanks Tree, so, with a new appreciation for the tradition, I made my own cardboard tree, hung it on my dorm room door, posted a sign explaining the tradition, and put out my own envelope of paper leaves for my floormates to join in. I was a naïve 18yo, but thankfully no one posted joke leaves. I was surprised at how many joined in on my tradition as I filled my tree with gratitudes. (I later brought my leaves home to post on the family tree).

In 2011 I got married and officially moved out of my mother’s home. I have yet to find a good wall or door to hang a big ol’ cardboard tree, so instead I switched to a digital list. This year I had decided to share to more than my personal Facebook page. I tried posting daily on Twitter as a month-long thread, but... well, it didn’t go so well, so I stopped after day 13, I think. I did finish the thread over on Facebook, and I decided to bring the complete list over to Tumblr.

So, for any who are interested, below the break is my list of 30 things I was grateful for this past November; things I hope to remain grateful for well beyond the next year. Always remember to stop to count your blessings. If you really try to find them, you will discover you have more than you might have realized.

1. I am grateful that my friends and family have been (mostly) safe and healthy this year, and that those who did contract COVID-19 were able to recover. ❤ (*proceeds to knock on wood*)

2. I am grateful for the amazing support system I have. I know I am one of the lucky ones, but between my husband, my family, my friends, and even my readers, I have so much positivity lifting me up, and I want to make sure I never take that for granted.

3. I am grateful to have a stable roof over my head. It's a decent size for two people (we just have a LOT of things). It has sturdy walls & a secure roof. We can keep it warm in the winter and cool in the summer (not cool enough for Hubby, but nothing outside a meat locker would be). We have an attentive but not intrusive landlady. She repairs anything that needs fixing ASAP, and is a lovely woman we can just pal around with on occasion. Those are things I know a lot of people can't say about their landlords/ladies. We also have welcoming neighbors that are a joy to run into in the parking lot. If we have to be "stuck" somewhere until we can buy our own place, where we are works wonderfully.

4. I am grateful that we are no longer hurting for money. We can splurge on smaller purchases (under $50) without much second thought. We can now pay off ALL of our monthly bills after just the first paychecks of the month. And then the rest of the month is building up funds for the next month's bills and savings. Speaking of, we have a little nest-egg of a couple grand, which is still relatively new for us. I'm also over-paying my student loans and car payment. Not by much, but enough that my bills are a couple months ahead, so... cool. I know that during this year in particular, having any sort of financial security is hard to hold onto, so I want to count our blessings that we're doing alright. *proceeds to knock on wood again*

5. As silly as it seems to say, I am grateful for all of the election memes. It was a super stressful time for most of us, and to have some sort of humor that most of the country could relate to (such as Flash from Zootopia being in charge of counting Nevada's votes) was a great stress reliever and bringer of much-needed smiles. So, thank you, Meme Lords/meme creators for bringing us such fantastic content to help ease that wait and stress.

6. I am grateful to see that my Muse is slowly returning to me, like a groundhog after a long hibernation, poking its head out just enough to acknowledge it's there before scurrying back into its burrow to hide again. It hasn't been much, and only one story was actually written in November, but I have been playing with a handful of plotbunnies. It's nice to be able to de-stress via plot-building and playing with character growth again. 😊 ❤

7. I'm sure you all saw this coming, but I am grateful that T**** lost the election. Not so much that Biden/Harris won, because there's issues there too, but that T**** will be out of the White House. Mostly, I'm grateful because that means so many that I love - and those online personalities that I respect - are going to be in a safer America (and world) as of January 20th. For those who suffered through physical, mental, emotional, financial, and maybe even spiritual hardships over the past 4 years - both Americans and international citizens alike - I am grateful that you get to take a breath and relax (at least, for a little bit) now. I don't know if Biden/Harris will (or can) do anything to actually help heal what caused my loved ones' suffering, but at least they won't be actively adding to it.

8. Getting away from the political, I am grateful that Hubby and I can eat whenever we want (outside of work). We may grumble about what we have available, but that's mostly due to not having the energy to turn ingredients into meals, or we've had the same meal 3x in a row already. Regardless, we CAN eat whenever we are hungry, and I am grateful for that.

9. Keeping with the "things people can take for granted easily" theme, I am grateful for my wardrobe. It may be simple and repetitive, but it is enough to wear something clean each day for anywhere between 7 and 12 days before needing to run to the laundromat. Nothing has holes or ratty edges (unless it's a beloved shirt I refuse to give up). My shoes have good soles to them, and I rarely have sore feet. When my feet DO get repeatedly sore, I have the funds to either fix my shoes via new insoles, or I can simply buy new ones. My coats are warm and, aside from one missing the grip of the zipper (but the zipper itself still works), they are still in good condition. I may not be the most fashionable, and I'm sure I'm not picking the best clothing to fit my body shape, but over-all, I'm protected from the elements, my body is protected, and I am well-kempt.

10. Kept me too long to mention this, but I am grateful that I was able to marry my best friend. There are those out there still looking for companionship. There are those who found it, but, in some cruel twist of fate, lost it. There are those who love their spouse, but may not exactly be friends with them. And yet, here Hubby and I are: two people who would gladly spend every waking moment with each other. I found someone I could chat and cuddle and laugh and cry with every moment of every day. Someone I share interests with, and someone who expands my list of interests. Someone who also expands my view of the world; who makes me wish to be more understanding and accepting, and just... better. I am lucky, and I never want to see a day when I forget that fact.

11. I feel a bit silly with this one, but I am grateful I don't have any major allergies I have to worry about. Specifically, no food allergies. I've seen how difficult it is for people to navigate around food allergies or intense airborne allergies. To have to not think about those sorts of things is such a privilege, and I'm truly grateful for it. I have enough issues with lactose intolerance.

12. Another kinda silly one, but, I'm grateful for @dragnime​ living next door to us. Same was true for when another friend was our neighbor. There's just something about seeing dragnime’s car when I come home (again, same with the other friend and his car) that makes me smile. I don't have to actually socialize with dragnime that day if we're both busy, but to see his car and know he's there should I want to reach out is just a weird sort of comforting. (Man, I really need Hubby and I to win the lottery so we can build our commune already....)

13. I am grateful for publicly announced self-appointed deadlines. Last year I started up my own tradition within the Miraculous Ladybug fandom: Friday 13ths should be Plagg Appreciation Day. Plagg is a character who, I feel, doesn't get nearly enough love or screen time. He's also the kwami of bad luck and destruction, so... Friday 13th seemed fitting. The final bit of writing I had actually finished and posted prior to November was for this fandom holiday back in March, and at the end of that story I told everyone "see you in November!" so I felt silly if I'd let this poor-writing year defeat me. I was determined to have at least THIS story written, and that determination paid off. It ended up taking almost literally my entire day off, but I was able to become inspired enough to write SOMETHING, and it seems to be received well, so... added yay. 😊

14. I am grateful for my relatively easy life. I have been loved and supported my whole life. I never really experienced abuse or prejudice (or even really bullying) personally. I was able to fully experience college without much personal trouble (my student loan debt notwithstanding). Aside from a single 6-month stint right after moving to NY, I have been able to find work easily enough. I haven't had to struggle for food or clothing or housing (stretch budget, yes; struggle, no). I haven't had to live without electricity or clean running water. I've never lost loved ones or valuable items (even sentimentally) through natural disasters. *knock on wood some more* There have been struggles in my life, to be sure, but, on the whole, I've had a happy, safe, supported, and relatively easy life.

15. I'm calling out @chibisunnie​ specifically. I am so SO very grateful for her. I mean, I always am, but this year in particular she's been such a pillar of strength for me. I can't even imagine the stress and panic this year must cause her, and yet she's still always there to comfort ME. (I mean, I hope I comfort her too, but this year in particular I feel it's more her comforting me.) She's been the main one (right behind Hubby) to remind me to be kind to myself this year and that it IS an unusual year; my "failings" in 2020 don't define who I am seeing it's an outlier year.

16. I am grateful that my sister is seeing her true self-worth. She’s worked so hard to improve herself and to find out who she truly is, and it's been fantastic to see her continue to evolve. It's also great to see her find someone who builds her up, so a side bit of gratitude to her boyfriend. And, yes, her perseverance, strength, and determination (as well as her mad crocheting skills) are still things that I greatly admire in her. I'm just so happy and proud and grateful that she seems to be in such a good place. ❤

17. I am grateful that my mom has discovered how capable she truly is. This year has been undeniably hard on small businesses such as hers. It must be such a struggle to keep everything afloat and to stay positive, and yet she is. She's pushing herself to improve her business and marketing. She's dealing with modern technology – basically the bane of her existence – nearly all day long between Zoom meetings to network and learn and grow, to working remotely, to making videos to help promote herself, to reworking her business's website, etc. She's grown so much over the year and I'm so proud of her.

18. Since I mentioned it, I am grateful for video conference programs such as Zoom. Unfortunately, due to scheduling conflicts, exhaustion, and my right knee getting worse, I had to stop doing Zumba (I'm hoping to work my way back into the routine again sooner than later). However, before June screwed me over, Zoom was how I was able to keep up with this exercise routine post-shutdown. It's how I've been able to see my family. It's how so many have been able to continue working. It's how YouTubers I enjoy manage to still interact for their videos. It's fantastic that this technology is not only available, but it's also accessible to so many.

19. Speaking of which, I am grateful for the Oxboxtra crew, Dicebreaker, the Theory Family (yes, I’m aware people find MatPat problematic...), SuperCarlinBrothers, OSP, Hello Future Me, and The Warp Zone. In total, that’s nearly a dozen different YouTube channels I routinely watch – focused mostly on OutsideXbox, Outside Xtra, Film Theory, Game Theory, Food Theory, and SuperCarlinBrothers – and these channels have really helped me keep my sanity. The fandoms specifically for OutsideXbox, Outside Xtra, and SuperCarlinBrothers are just so sweet and supportive of even fellow fans. The YouTubers have such big hearts and are so delightfully goofy, it's almost like welcoming friends into my home whenever I watch them. I even started checking out stuff on Luke Westaway's and Ellen Rose's private channels on YouTube because I enjoyed these entertainers so much. So, thank you, YouTubers, for helping me find something that lets me forget what's going on in the world for 2hrs and just have fun. ❤

20. Along those lines, I am grateful for games such as Animal Crossing: New Horizons and Among Us. Both of those games, and similar ones that were available this year, were great distractions from the chaos of 2020. They have provided fantastic and unique gameplay content for the YouTube channels I follow, which, in turn, provided great video content for me to watch. These types of games were also, and most importantly, great ways for people to stay connected. I've been able to bond and joke around and preoccupy myself with games and gaming streams, and they have certainly been such great lifelines.

21. I am grateful for quiet cuddle moments. Be it in the evening while Hubby and I are watching TV, or while we're actually snuggled in bed watching Disney+ or Netflix, or after hitting snooze in the morning and just wanting to stay cuddled together for another 5 minutes, or even when one of us (*cough*usuallyme*cough*) is feeling super stressed and we just take a couple-minute time-out to just hug, I am grateful for all of them. I know not every couple gets to have these physical contact moments for various reasons, add in my own experience of having an 8-year long-distance relationship, and I try so hard to not take those quiet moments of just simple hugs or hand holds or back scratches for granted.

22. I am grateful for music and the ability to experience it. It motivates me. It inspires me (I have so many stories/chapters written because a song made me think of the plot). It helps with cathartic release. It gets me moving and exercising. It keeps me focused. It allows me to just zone out. Music is just so important in my life and the life of so many more. Bless all the music creators and performers.

23. I am grateful for Anime Night. It's a bit of normalcy in this year of anything but. It's a way to stay connected with a couple of my friends, and the little bits of socializing we do outside of watching has really allowed me to get to know both men more, as well as learn more about the other people really important in their lives.

24. I am grateful for the experience of turning fans into friends (and also being allowed to evolve from fan to friend). One of the best things about fanfiction is the ability to see people interact and react with your work, and to then respond in kind. It's sort of a silver lining to the relatively small number of views and comments on most fanfiction (compared to most professionally published work, that is), since it means you aren't too overwhelmed to truly experience each comment, follow, fave, like, reblog, etc. Through people gushing about my work, and me gushing back at how happy they've made me, I've been able to build up some really sweet friendships. I've also made two new close-acquaintances (we don't interact QUITE enough to be “friends” just yet) from my own gushy reviews and their responses to how great my reviews made them feel. So, to @chibisunnie​, @thetauruspixie​, @livrever​, @tlos21​, @chanceuseladynoire​ and @zenmisery​ (I hope that's all of you), I am so grateful for the bond we've had over fanfiction. Love all of you so much! ❤

25. I am grateful for members of minorities and other marginalized peoples for taking the time and effort to try to educate others; making it easier on us when they are in no way obligated to help us understand at all (it's really on us to put in the effort to try to understand them). This year alone, via personal posts on social media, infographics, comics, people posting reference sheets of hotlinks to research/source materials, etc, I was able to learn so much. I was able to grow and try to overcome my own prejudices, misunderstandings, and misinformation. All because people decided to share their raw experiences or do the research for me. It was something each and every one of them volunteered to do in an effort to help educate, and I am so grateful for the lessons they've taught me.

26. I am grateful that people find me a safe person to talk to. It is one of the few things I want in life; to be a safe haven for friends, family, and even strangers who are hurting. I realize the amount of trust people put in me and the vulnerability they are allowing themselves. It is humbling, to say the least, but also such an amazing feeling. I will try to keep learning and keep growing to keep earning the trust warranted me being this safe haven, but in the meantime, I'll continue to be grateful that people do find me as someone they can be safe with.

27. On the flipside, I am grateful to have friends who allow me to just be who I am. I can be obsessed with a cartoon aimed at 10 year olds (Miraculous Ladybug), and my friends not only don't judge, but they also happily let me know when their young children start to enjoy the show! I can be goofy or forgetful or screw something up, and, again, there's no judgment. They just accept me as I am, and I am blessed.

28. I am grateful for the support my friends and family have (outside of me) in their lives. It does my heart well to know that even if I disappear due to my own mental health issues, that my friends and family still have great support around them. They are all kind people surrounded by more kind people, and I nearly cry whenever I read or hear about my friends getting support they need and the outpouring of support. YOU ARE ALL BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE AND I LOVE YOU ALL AND EACH AND EVERY ONE OF YOU DESERVE THE OUTPOURING OF SUPPORT YOU'VE FOUND. ❤

29. I am grateful for the continued bonding we've had with my sister-in-law this past year. I miss having the post-Zumba walk where we can just talk, but, largely through effort on her part, we've been having some time every Tuesday when she comes over to work after dropping the kids at school. We also had a whole evening with her on Black Friday. She's also texted and called a few times to chat, and we are getting closer and closer each year. Not everyone thinks of their in-laws as family despite what the law says, so I'm grateful that we have always thought of each other as family, and that we continue to bond and grow as siblings.

30. I am grateful for this family tradition. It allows me to really focus on what is important in life, and all the joys and blessings I've experienced. It's especially important during this trash heap of a year. I love that I can find silver linings in my life and appreciate what I have. This tradition is also a reminder to not take things for granted. I am so SO grateful that my mom introduced us to this tradition and forced us to participate as we grew up. It's a lesson that will stay with me, and it's such an important one. Thank you, Mom!

[thrushpot]

obstacle 1

Billy Hargrove x fem reader

“24 & 41 w some soft billy 🤧” requested by anonymous.

#24: “You’re trembling.”

#41: “I feel like I can’t breathe.” from dialogue prompts

warning(s): slurs, violence, panic attacks

a/n: angst but it gets better I promise!! title of the fic comes from a fucking phenomenal Interpol song. also beware if you send me a number from a prompt list there’s no way I know how to make it short like a drabble, I only know how to draw it out pretty much haha.

—

“What the fuck is the matter with you? Huh?”

Billy’s back had been shoved up against the wall, his lip trembling and eyes red rimmed with unshed tears. His father’s fingers are tightly clutched around his jacket, ugly nostrils widely flared, looking down at his own son as if he were a mistake; as if he were the scum of the fucking earth. And Billy knows that that’s true, too.

“I had to get a call from the sheriff, at—” his father breaks eye contact for a split second to eye the clock that hangs on his son’s bedroom wall, “three-thirty in the goddamn morning, only to be told that my gracious son has been caught stealing chocolate bars from the drugstore, like some fucking delinquent. How do you think this makes me feel, William? As your own flesh and blood,” his father sighs and pats his own chest, pretending like he’s hurt because Billy made a fool of himself and embarrassed his family. Of course, only his father would be making all this about himself yet again and not seeing with his blind dumb eyes that it’s a cry for attention and help.

It was impulsive and stupid, Billy can admit that at least.

He was hungry, he felt like acting out, and there just so happened to be a drugstore nearby and thought it’d be kinda funny. Billy assumed that the security would be shit, and he also assumed he’d be smooth enough to not get caught. He played the part pretty well, at least what he considered to be convincing. Whistling and peeking at his surroundings as he casually stuffed around twelve, maybe even more chocolate bars down his pants and coat pockets and then sprinting like a bat out of hell to the parking lot.

He swore he was in the clear, and would eventually get to enjoy the candy bars and have a funny story to tell you later. Have a happy ending to one of his shenanigans for once, instead of ending in tears and blood. That is until the way-too-beefy-for-this-job clerk behind the counter saw him and called him out before chasing him down, slamming his entire front into the concrete. Holding him there until the boys in blue show up and handcuff his hands behind his back before shoving him in the backseat. The bruises from the comfy cement came out nice and big, Billy already checked them out in the bathroom mirror at the station. Seriously, he’d never seen a guy get that protective over Kit-Kat bars since he was in grade school.

After fucking begging the officers to just let him off the hook and promising it’ll never happen again, that it was just a silly fluke; they had betrayed him, and unsurprisingly at that. Like all authoritative figures have done to him his entire eighteen years of living. The pricks really did it, they really called his dad on him, and now here we are.

“Answer me this instant!”

Billy flinched at the deafening tone his father used to screamed right into his face. Their noses are practically touching. He can even smell his father’s alcohol consumption through his breath, and it’s so fucking grotesque that Billy wants to throw everything he ate that day up.

“I got popped for stealing chocolate, s’not the worst thing I’ve done,” he weakly murmurs, cursing himself internally because he felt a tear bust out of his left eye. He can’t cry in front of this monster, he fucking can’t.

Why can’t this be over with already? Why not just a slap on the wrist, one and done? This shouldn’t be as bad as the time he got caught tripping on acid in the woods that his weird ass classmate Mike gave to him. Yet he’s still here, spitting on Billy’s face and gripping him tighter, voice thundering louder. Susan doesn’t ever give a fuck about what’s happening to her step son, so why would Billy be foolishly praying that she would save the day this time? The helpless boy even imagines a scenario ending with his little step sibling Max stepping in and calling the cops. But all that’s just wishful thinking. Those things only happen to people who are cared about, and nobody gives a rats ass for Billy’s well-being in this household. Not even the cops would throw his nutcase of a father in jail and swallow the key.

The cops only care about petty misdemeanors, such as teenagers stealing candy bars from drugstores. They wouldn’t bat an eye at seeing a troublemaker like Billy with bruises and scabs scattered all over his face. They don’t care. None of them do, and none of them listen either.

“Yeah yeah, sure. It’s just a couple candy bars, right? But here’s how thieves work,” Neil starts his lesson, looking down his nose and pointing a finger at Billy’s face accusingly. “First, it’s just a candy bar. No big deal, right? You’re just having a little fun. Then, it gets bigger. You get away with that, then one day, you think you can get away with stealing a car,” he takes Billy’s jaw in one hand to keep him in place before giving his cheek a quick sharp slap, leaving it stinging and flushing red. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

The first punch is always a shock, and has the teen holding his breath waiting for what the next one will feel like.

“You are a fucking disgrace, a worthless juvenile with nothing better to do,” his father winds up for round two, even grinning like a sadistic bastard. He grins even wider when he sees his son’s face leak with more tears, and hissing when he wipes his own face too hard from brushing the evidence of the blow with his finger. More insults are thrown at him, like “faggot” or “disappointment”. He’s heard it all before, but it’s seeping further into his skull now, right along with his dear old dad’s fist. Cutting deep, deeper than it ever has, and not just in his face.

And Billy, paralyzed and hopless while lying on the ground, realizes that his father had to have been right all along.

Throughout his teens he consciously wondered if he actually was the reason Mom left, or if that’s just his dad fucking with his head. Which usually happens to be the case. But now, Billy is petrified that he’s telling the truth, and he’s giving it to him raw, like a sick reminder of his utter worthlessness. Maybe he will grow up to be no good, just another bum and a thief, getting caught doing more stupid shit. Billy wonders if this is really a sign that he should wise up before it’s too late.

His dad has finally stopped knocking his head into the wall and sucker punching his nose and cheeks, now seemingly satisfied with the work of art done to the boy’s face. With blood pouring from the boy’s nose like a faucet, he scrambles to plug it up and hug himself while bracing for a potential next hit. To Billy’s relief, his dad up and leaves at that, slamming the door behind him with a scoff and more damaging insults murmured under his breath. As soon as the door is shut, the boy fumbles to shove open his window, rushing to crawl the fuck out and nicking his injuries on the way out. He can’t fucking take this anymore.

By the time he’s out in his driveway, tears are still flooding out of his fucked up purple eyes and he rips open his Camaro door. While starting up the engine, he shakes his head before speeding to the only safe place he knows.

Your room.

—

When Billy makes it to your house, still just as hot of a mess as he was when he was being beaten and screamed at, the way up to your room was no picnic. He skinned his knee on the way down, falling three or four times before finally making it. His strength isn’t at it’s best at the moment. He carelessly shoves your window open and stumbles as he climbs through, landing directly on the floor. His back is to your door, and he adjusts himself to sitting with his legs crossed as he waits for your return. You’re probably downstairs, or in the bathroom. He doesn’t fucking know, but he wouldn’t doubt that you’d leave him too, like everyone else had when they discovered how much of a burden all his issues really are. History often repeats itself, and maybe it’s a mistake unveiling his mask and shitting all over you with his fucked up problems, but he doesn’t know where else to go.

Yours and Billy’s relationship strictly consisted of fun. Just joking around without any drama, maybe once in a while getting up to no good together. When you two would drink heavily in your room on weekends, sometimes he’d kiss you but you wouldn’t talk about it in the morning. Because that’d be just too much to deal with, and the packaged guarentee he got with you was that you weren’t anything to deal with. You were the most laid back, good time he’d had in this town. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d snuck up to your window and crawled in, however, it will be the first time he ever showed up this vulnerable and seeking comfort. Your comfort, specifically.

Billy’s back is still facing the door when you finally arrive, and you let out a squeal in fear before recognizing it’s him. You’d know that mullet, that jacket, and those tight blue jeans absolutely anywhere. It was your good friend Billy sitting on your floor.

“Holy shit man, you scared the Jesus outta me. Gimme a warning next time, ay?” you laugh, holding your chest to slow your quick heart down. It’s pretty late, and it’s a typical Saturday. You’re in your pajamas with a rejuvenating green face mask smothered all over your skin, as well as a bowl of cookie dough icecream in your grasp. It almost went flying when Billy had frightened you, and that would’ve been a bitch to clean off the carpet.

“I have some cookie dough icecream here. I could get you your own bowl too, if you want,” you offer, not yet hearing a peep from the boy seated on the ground. He’s eerily quiet, but you’re still oblivious to it all. “I heard this gossip around town, and oh my god, it totally reminded me of you. Some dipshit got caught stealing a bunch of Kit-Kat bars from the store right by your place,” you chuckle, then worry a bit as he remains unresponsive.

“Billy?” you tread lightly as you tip toe closer to him, then observe his shoulders shaking, and then his entire body too as if it were freezing in here or something.

“You’re trembling,” you notice, now terrified of knowing what happened to this boy to make him this freakishly twitchy. You hastily put your hand on Billy’s shoulder before the ice finally breaks. He turns his head to you , finally exposing the dried blood that’s still down his nose, as well as the black and blue all over his face. His tears were falling silently at first until he steadily starts to sob violently, letting you cradle him in your arms and shush him soothingly.

“I’m— I, I didn’t mean to, it was just s’pposted to be a joke, but I messed up so bad, he got so mad at me this time, and—“

“Who? Who got mad at you?”

Billy’s vision is blurring rapidly, to the point of barely seeing any shapes or colors. His chest is heaving up and down way too fast to be normal, and he thinks he’s about to have a fucking heart attack. His dad would probably throw a parade if his son moved into a hospital instead.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” he panics, whole body still trembling while holding you tight enough to hurt as his salty tears land on your shirt. You could give a fuck about your mask that’s still on your face and getting slightly ruined. Little bits of it is now smothering Billy’s hair, and that makes you want to smile, but this is no time to be smiling.

“Do you want some water? Fuck, I think I have a water bottle in my bag—“

“Please don’t leave me,” he implored, halting you from getting up by burying his beaten face into your chest.

“You got it! I’m staying right here, I swear. Um, I might remember the steps to doing mouth-to-mouth, if you need that?” your eyes are wide and apprehensive, praying to whatever God in the sky that Billy doesn’t die in your arms tonight. That seemed to get him to crack a smile, a weak one, but small progress is still progress. “I’m serious! I might be wishing I payed more attention in class when they talked about this stuff, but I’m here for you. I’m practically PhD certified,” you assure him, sounding less than convincing. Your ignorance is working it’s magic though, humoring Billy and making him finally take deep breaths at a normal rate, instead of the hyperventilating he’d been doing a second ago.

“Pfft. Sure, yeah, I can tell I’m in real good hands here. You got any a’ that cookie dough left, Doc?” he sniffles and licks his lips, staring at the bowl that still has a decent amount of scoops of the dessert left unmelted.

“Hell yeah, and there’s more where that came from. In fact, when you leave tonight, or tomorrow— whatever, you can stay as long as you want— I expect you to gain at least five pounds from this,” you hand the bowl over to his grabby hands, smiling sweetly as he scarfs it down. He suddenly stops for a moment and shrieks when he eats too much too fast, giving himself brain freeze. “You eat faster than my dog.”

“I’ll take the win on that challenge, actually,” he grins, inhaling more of the creamy dessert, letting out occasional hums when he gets an especially good bite of the sugary cookie dough.

After a beat of silence, you decide to get up and put a record on your record player, sticking with a classic Tom Petty album, setting it on low so that there’s some background. You know Billy favors it too, remembering all the drives you’d go on together with Petty playing through his speakers. You head to the bathroom which is only a small distance of five steps away, you grab a washcloth and wet it with warm water to clean Billy’s gross bloody face. You’ve never seen a guy look as fucked up as he did right now in real life. Only in the movies had you seen blood oozing from somebody’s face, or splotchy bruises like polka dots sitting on somebody’s face. Basically, you had no idea how to help him, but you were gonna try. He came to you after all, he trusted you enough to let you see this side of him.

“Is this the part where you give me that line, shit, what is it? Oh yeah, ‘you should have seen the other guy’?” you ask as you go up to him, making sure you’re as gentle as a feather while dabbing the damp lukewarm cloth on his battered cheekbones as he continues to eat.

“Nah, the other guy is just fine if you ask him,” Billy scoffs, finishing the bowl and putting it down next to him. He zips up his jacket further up his neck, then shoves his hands in his pockets as you tend to his wounds.

“You cold?”

“Eh, kinda. Not really though,” he answers, but you’re able to read between the lines at his body language then reach behind you to your bed, dragging a blanket over. Ignoring his protests about not needing to be babied this hard, you wrap it around him. He just shuts up and nods his thanks, holding it tighter by proving you right about how chilly he felt.

“I’m sorry about all this, by the way. I probably freaked you out, and I’m kinda wishing I hadn’t done that,” he sighs, in hindsight realizing how humiliating his meltdown was.

“Don’t apologize for showing emotion. That’s a fucked up male habit,” you scold, the boy nodding vigorously.

“It was me, you know,” he says , resulting in you raising your brows at the questionable ambiguity. He rolls his eyes at having to explain himself then goes on. “I did it. I uh, stole all those Kit-Kats from the store.”

You pause your cleansing his face then can’t hold in your giggles anymore at the fact that you were fucking right, of course Billy would be the one to do a thing like that.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up Y/N,” he claps his hands, sarcastically urging you on.

“C’mon, that’s some priceless shit!”

“At least someone found it funny,” he grumbles, staring down at his hands and the soft blanket keeping him warm.

“What’s the matter with you?” you ask playfully, covering your mouth muffle your boisterous laughter.

That stiffens the boy up, thinking back to his father’s words, “What the fuck is the matter with you, huh?”

“Holy shit, you should’ve called me! I so would’ve been there to like, cause a distraction, maybe flirt with the cashier so that you could take a pack of those expensive cigarettes you’ve always wanted to try,” you laugh, then take his silence into account and find him shutting down again. You don’t know what you said, but you had to make it right.

“Hey, hey now. Don’t get all emo on me again, we were just starting to have some fun,” you peek his undamaged chin up, looking at him in the eyes and trying to stay positive, or better yet keep him distracted from his demons that won’t quit.

“Do, um. You don’t think I’m gonna grow up a low life asshole, do you?” he asks, wanting to hear it from somebody that he’s doing a good job. Making somebody on this earth proud, because pleasing his dad is a lost cause, and getting back his mom is about as likely.

“No. Why? Is it that you think you will?”

“Kinda, yeah. That’s what everyone drills into my head anyways,” he laughs, but you refuse to because that isn’t funny.

“Well if you give me all their names, I’ll go to wherever they’re at and sock them in the face. I don’t care if they’re bigger than me, I’m fucking doing it. Let’s go, come on. What are their names?” you assert without an ounce of humor. Billy’s lips curl into a smile, huddling further into the soft blanket you had given him. He isn’t at all in control of how fucking wide his lips get when he grins, all from the fact that his short stack best friend would do all that just for him. He suddenly wants to rub it in his sad sack of a father’s face that somebody really cares about him.

And he wants to really kiss that somebody right now.

“Think it’s time you wash that uh, whatever that is,” he gestures to the face mask that’s since dried when he came, “Off your face. I could come with you, if you want.”

Your blush is hidden under the green goo, and you nod your head in confirmation before grabbing his hand to lead you two to the bathroom.

“What is it even for, anyway?”

“Oh. For like, exfoliating, and... honestly, I don’t know. It could be complete bullshit, I just threw it on hoping something might happen,” you give up trying to explain your attempt at keeping up with personal hygiene, then Billy just shushes you and points to the sink to hurry you on washing it off.

With a good three minutes of Billy staring intently at you splashing your face with water, you self consciously look away and grab a towel to dry off. He looks you down once more, shakes his head, then leans in and caresses your cheeks with both his hands. His kiss is long and makes you feel so warm and tingly everywhere, but you’re mostly worried about fucking up his face doing this. As if on cue, your nose bonks his, making him moan.

“I’m so so sorry, did that— that hurt you, didn’t it?” you ask with dread, before he shuts you up with another kiss, not letting what his dad had done to him stop him from enjoying you. After making out by the sink for as long as he could hold out for, the two of you pull back and take a breather, still panting and smiling so happily. He pets your perfect cheeks that rest in his palms, and he hums in thought before speaking.

“Your skin’s real soft,” he observes.

“Yeah? Thanks, I um. Guess the face mask isn’t total bull after all,” you laugh, most of it coming from the nerves.

“Huh. I could try it sometime, yunno, only if you keep your mouth shut about it,” he playfully threats, poking you in your stomach as you continue laughing from how it tickled you.

Billy decides to stay the night at yours, playing the little spoon in your arms tonight. Tom Petty is still quietly singing from your record player, the empty bowl that was once filled with cookie dough icecream still sitting on the floor. The boy’s face hasn’t gotten much better, and he knows he’ll have to deal with his dad again tomorrow. It’s inevitable, really. But he knows now that you’re by his side, ready and willing to even whoop his dad’s ass if he gets him hurt again. And that’s more than enough for Billy to feel like he can really pull through.

—

happier about how this one turned out:) thank you all so much for being so kind and patient and everything. the people who write on here are wonderful, the people who read on here are wonderful, everybody is so amazing and I can’t express how grateful I am!!

I really wanted to write the reader as being kinda clueless about what to do with taking care of him, cause I’ll be honest, I have no idea what I’d do if a guy like him ever came to me looking super fucked up😂

[another-mexico-oc]

The most used Mexico´ cliches in fanfiction and comics (And surely this can apply to any other OC)

Traducción en Español: AQUÍ

DISCLAIMER:

This post DOES NOT intend to throw shit and attack specific authors or their work, so out of respect we will not mention names. If you have read my other posts you will know that this only has the purpose of entertaining and to give a personal opinion.

Also, this does not intend to be a manual or guide on how to write a good comic or fanfic. It is only a compilation of repetitive elements found throughout these works.

Now, let's continue ...

Hi! How are you doing? I hope you are safe at home, and in case you have to go outside take your precautions.  

I have been in Hetalia's fandom for more than a year, and the Countryhumans' less than a year, and both my cousin and I have seen and read enough material from Mexico's OCs, enough to compile in a list the most popular cliches when reading a fanfic or comic which involves this character. As I said at the beginning, this is not a guide of what to do and what not, but we invite creators to find new ways to tell the same stories (or even new ones) differently and to not fall into the predictable.

( Perhaps it is because in my university career one of my teachers was very demanding with coherent scripts and stories, and that she tended to review them 10 times before giving the approval, that I became very demanding with the creation of stories and characters. But that's my personal issue! )

Sarcastically, this should be called "The clichés that cannot be miss for your Mexico´ story" :

1. The Mexico´OC was created ONLY to be the love interest of another character (the author's favorite):

In the same way, the author´ comics and fanfics will be of the romantic genre, and it will involve his favorite ship (or his various ships if he/she is a multi-shipper). Making a brief conclusion, there are few works in which Mexico stands out as a character, without having the love interest, or the famous harem, as the main plot.

And if you were curious, here is a chart that shows the most used ships in the Hetalia´ case, although in 2020 it may have slight changes:

(Denmark and Norway?! I have never found any fic about them being paired with Mexico)

2. María Sue and Gary Estuardo:

More cliché this could not be. Even when I´m mexican myself, I realize that the representation of my country has received the Mary Sue treatment by the fandom, both in Hetalia and in Countryhumas, and mostly by the latino and mexican community. I already talked about this HERE, but I'll summarize it:

Regardless of whether Mexico is a man or a woman:

- They will be the center of the universe, all the characters will kiss the ground they step on, they will be the most cute person in the world, without flaws, and their greatest virtue will be his or her ethereal beauty that will make everyone to fall in love with them, with just an eye blink.

- It´s never their fault and they will never face the consequences of their actions, e.g. causing WW3. What's even more, he or she is just a poor victim of the evil countries that want to take advantage of his/her territory.

- Having got laid or dating half of the world will not cause them serious consequences or a negative reputation.

- Personality? Oh my, that´s very complicated to write, instead I will narrate how my female Mexico arrived at the restaurant with a dress that highlighted her feminine attributes and how her long and abundant hair made more than one person to sigh; Or how my male Mexico wore tight pants that showed his perfect toned legs, and that when he smiled he made blush every country.

If it was a parody, I'd accept Mexico to be a Mary Sue or a Gary Stu. But usually the authors want you to take the story and the character seriously. So... nope.

3. Plots taken from soap operas, or telenovelas:

Believe it or not, there are authors who have admitted that their Mexico´ fanfics are based on mexican telenovelas. And the worst thing is that telenovelas have the most cliche stories in the world! Think about it, you have a good and humble, but kind of dumb person, who in this case is going to be Mexico, who falls in love with a handsome and rich person, who will obviously be a first world country, but there is someone who wants to finish their romance. You also have forced marriages, fights, misunderstandings, slaps, super dramatic scenes, passionate scenes, cheesy titles...

Mix all this elements together, and you will get:

For comedy purpose, we will be using my OC)

4. The fanfic or comic always, ALWAYS, has to start with a world meeting:

I propose a challenge for you and your friends. Gather together and search for Mexico fanfics, no matter the fandom where you all came from. Take a shot, or put a coin in a jar, for every time the first chapter begins at a meeting.

And almost always it is here where the author builds the romantic story, examples:

“It was a normal day in the boardroom, everyone was arguing while Germany (United Nations if it is a Countryhumans fic) tried in vain to put order and discipline. Only a nation was waiting for a certain person with brown skin and delicate features, to enter through that great door… ”

“Suddenly, a brown skin girl with black and curly hair (Seriously guys, where did you got the idea your average mexican girl has natural curly hair?!) entered the room, and the entire room went silent. Everyone who was there had something to do with that young lady, and seeing her there, turned into a full woman, left them stunned. She was gorgeous.”

Another cliché, but this one can be in any story, is: "Realizing that it was getting late, he got up, took off his pajamas, groomed, combed his hair, and put on his yellow shirt with his ...". There are several ways to start the story without the famous world meeting and the character's morning routine.

5. The harem and love triangles (or any other geometric shape):

This cliché could not be missing either. There are a lot of Mexico x TheWorld´ fanfics. As I said before, I am not against the shipping and the harem of Mexico, each one is free to ship whatever they like, as long as there is respect between the community.

But even when an author wants to focus on a single couple, let's take for example Canada x Mexico, he necesarily has to include USAMex and RusMex as secondary couples, and at some point it gets exhausting and reforces the Mary Sue treatment. It seems that for many authors, Mexico's international relations automatically translate into a “romantic relationship”, and not into a friends or business partners one.

And also, the construction of the relationship it feels sometimes very empty. The author doesn't give time to show how they become a couple or how they found the chemistry in the other. In the third chapter they are already making out!

6. The toxicity:

Oh yeah.

I don't blame this clichá, my cousin and I concluded that healthy relationships are rare in Hetalia and Countryhumans. Practically all countries have one or two flaws that at first sight makes them look toxic. And in Mexico's fanfics and comics, particularly those involving USAMex, the character gets involved in a possessive and codependent relationship.

If Mexico is not a dominant male or a femme fatale, it will be a submissive character who will allow all kinds of abuse. Or in each chapter he or she will doubt about his/her relationship, and will make their partner jealous.

To write a healthy relationship, you must work on the characters' strengths and make them both face their flaws, but instead, the authors take these flaws and make them the basis of the relationship.

7. The party´ chapter in which things get ... heavily crazy:

Okay, so we have our first chapter at the world meeting, where we establish the main couple. Now what we need is the stage for the lovebirds to confess their love ... while being drunk. In many works we will find the countries gathered at a party (usually a Latino party), and the author will narrate all the crazy events that occur, including how Mexico and his sweetheart, will confess their feelings after having taken a few bottles, and sometimes this gets to ...

8. The chapter (or chapters) + 18

This is almost a requirement for many fanfic´ writers, and is always written in the same way. The author will narrate you in detail from the moment they begin to undress until the climax moment.

9. Spain will never stop calling Mexico "New Spain", despite the fact that more than 200 years have passed since the country's independence and its recognition:

And in the case of Hetalia, Mexico must have the same last name as Spain: Hernández Carriedo. Yes, in the same way that United States last name is not Jones, but Kirkland, like its ex-colonizer England; or that Belarus last name is Braginski as his brother Russia, and not Arlovskaya.

Also, although Spain continues to call Mexico "New Spain", he will never call Argentina "Rio de la Plata" or Colombia "New Granada". Similarly, England and France will never call America and Canada "13 Colonies" and "New France" respectively. It seems to be something exclusive for Spain and Mexico.

10. Repetitive references and jokes, or lack of knowledge about the country.

Paco the chihuahua dog, Mexico and Sudamericans fighting over the avocado´s name, Mexico having flashbacks of his/her past with the Aztec Empire and with the USA when they were colonies, Mexico complaining about his/her rulers and corruption within the country, Mexico crying over Texas, Mexico demonstrating his/her beautiful culture to other countries …

Not to mention when someone makes an Mexico OC and his knowledge of the country is very basic: tacos, sombreros, Day of the Dead, always hot climate, the wall issue with America, Aztec and Maya as the only ancestors of Mexico, Texas, burritos... Sorry if I sound rude but, those people need to read and investigate more, and watch less movies where Mexico has that yellow filter.

11. Bad translations

Okay, this is something exclusive of the spanish speaking fandom, but I´ll tell you what´s their issue.

Some author had the brilliant idea to make the dialogues of the countries in their respective languages, followed by placing the Spanish translation in parentheses, and from there many followed suit. The problem is when you notice that they don´t speak or understand the language, and instead they use the Google translator, obtaining results like this:

There have been several occasions when I am reading America and England´ dialogues, and it makes me want to write in the comment section: “DON´T USE THE GOOGLE TRANSLATOR! ” I wouldn´t know what to say from the rest of the countries, since my French is very basic,and I have hardly learned one phrase from the others languages.

My advise for these authors is to find a person who is fluent in the language and who can help them with the dialogues. Or even better, try to avoid this cliché, because at the end of the day people will only read the translation, and it is already implied that each country speaks in its respective language. Also doing this is very pretentious.

The less you can do is to add in the dialogues well know words, like adiós, hola, bonjour, ciao...

12. Changing the canon personalities. Or worse: turn a loved character into a villain.

I already said this HERE too. Basically, for the author to make his Mexico an empathic character and to make other countries to fall in love with him or her, they must conveniently change their canon personalities. This applies more in Hetalia than in Countryhumans, since this last one belongs to the community and nobody can establish what is canon and what is not. On the other hand, in Hetalia the characters already have their own personalities, and neither plays the role of villain. And there is a big difference between being an antagonist or a villain, but I´ll let you to investigate it yourself.  

This cliché is closely related to the Mary Sue treatment, because if I want readers to empathize with Mexico, I must turn another character into an evil person who is going to put him through hardships. And normally this character is the United States or America, whatever you call him.

If I want Russia or Germany to fall in love with Mexico, I must rewrite their characters and throw out the unstable part of Russia, and Germany's little experience regarding romantic relationships, just to make them the most romantic and sentimental people in the world.

✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥   ✥

There you have it! I think I already roasted 80% of Mexico fanfiction and fanart, but is not like they are going to dissapear with this post. On the good side, for every time I cringed reading some of these works, I have saved a good amount money, you must try it. I should try an aside blog where I criticize bad fanfiction... But at the moment, that´s all for today! See ya!

[anubislover]

“A Heart to be Used as Needed” Chapter 2

Of all the things Law hated about being Doflamingo’s right-hand man, dressing the part was near the top of the list. The black feathered jacket was a painful reminder of the man who had tried and failed to save him from his psychotic brother’s clutches. It didn’t matter whether he wore an expensive suit or stark naked underneath, the mantle weighed on his shoulders like Seastone shackles.

Once Joker was dead, he’d take great pleasure in burning the damn thing.

Rolling up the sleeves of his mustard yellow dress shirt, he took a deep, fortifying breath, mentally reminding himself that it would all be over once he crushed the Heavenly Demon’s twisted heart beneath the heel of his boot. Lazy, arrogant smirk firmly in place, he firmly knocked on the throne room door, respectfully waiting for his boss’ leave before sauntering in.

“Doffy,” Law greeted, hand raised in a casual wave, “I hear you had to crush Baby-ya’s dreams of wedded bliss again.”

“Aw, come on, kid,” Doflamingo chuckled, pouring them both a generous glass of brandy. The red glow of the setting sun glinted off his sunglasses, his wide grin full of maniacal humor. “I was doing her a favor! You should have seen her latest ‘groom’; the guy had more wrinkles than Lao G!”

The Dark Doctor laughed, accepting the crystal snifter. As much as he loathed sharing a friendly drink with the man, he could at least appreciate that Joker never compromised on the alcohol’s quality. He made a mental note to pour some into the bastard’s open wounds before he killed him. “I believe you! She really does have horrible taste, doesn’t she?”

“Fuffuffuffuffu, you got that right! It was kind of cute, at first, but’s starting to lose its charm.”

“And here I’d assumed you considered androcide a hobby.”

Flopping backwards into a large, plush chair, Doflamingo crossed his long legs with a shrug, taking a sip of his own drink. The chair would have been a loveseat for an average human, but the former World Noble’s massive frame basically turned it into an armchair. “Eh, killing those guys is too easy to be any real fun, and it just about breaks my heart seeing her cry over it.”

“Then it’s a good thing you didn’t see her earlier; poor thing was an absolute wreck when she came sobbing into my lab. Completely ruined my shirt. Maybe I should remove her tear ducts.”

That earned him a sharp cackle. “While you’re at it, see if you could surgically insert some goddamn standards. I swear, each new ‘boyfriend’ is worse than the last. This time, I actually had to use my powers she was so bent out of shape! She needs to realize that I’m looking out for her best interests. None of those peons deserved her.”

Swirling the amber liquid thoughtfully, Law lounged in the Heart Seat. For all its red velvet cushions, the gaudy throne felt no more comfortable than it had when he’d first been shackled to it at fourteen, but after ten years, it was easier to pretend. “Honestly, I couldn’t agree more. The problem is, she’d got this idea in her head that marriage will make her happy, and with her compulsion to be needed, she jumps at every perceived proposal she hears. After all, what could a man possibly need more than wife?” he asked sarcastically.

“Well, that’s a spot-on diagnosis, doc; you got any suggestions for a cure?”

Taking a swig of brandy, he savored the silken burn as it slid down his throat. It was well-aged and smooth, with a few notes of smoke and sweetness; the perfect drink to accompany his plan. “I do,” Law replied with a grin, setting aside his snifter to lace his fingers together. “Let her get married to a man of your choosing.”

Doflamingo sat up straighter in his seat, eyes narrowing behind his sunglasses. “Are you fucking kidding me, Law?”

Despite the sharp edge of anger in his boss’ tone, the young Corazon simply smiled. “Not at all. As much as she wants to get married, she desperately craves your approval. If you chose her next beau, she’d be absolutely over the moon and we can put all this nonsense to rest.”

“Well, unfortunately, there’s no one worthy of our little Baby 5,” he said stubbornly, crossing his arms and hunching over in an exaggerated pout like a spoiled child who’d been told to share his toys.

“No, but you could at least pair her with someone you trust,” he coaxed. Though psychotic and selfish, after over a decade working for the man, Law knew how to gently lure him to the conclusion he desired. “Someone who wouldn’t take advantage of her. Someone who could reign her in and ensure her loyalty never strays from the Family. Specifically, someone to keep her in the Family.”

Intrigued, the giant man relaxed in his throne. “Ah, now I get it. Fuffuffuffuffu, you had me worried for a sec! I should have known you’d never try to drive Baby away from us. A sweet, precious little thing like her needs our protection.”

Yes, the woman who can turn into a literal arsenal needs protecting, Law thought sarcastically, though his smile never faltered. “I’d never even consider such a thing. You know I’ve got a soft spot for her, Doffy; we’ve been friends since childhood.”

“A soft spot is right! I’ve seen you rip out Giolla’s heart just for commenting on how tired you look, but when Baby slaps you, at worse she gets dismembered for a few hours. I’ve never even had to order you to put her back together.”

“That’s because unlike Giolla, Baby 5’s disrespectful outbursts come from a place of love, like a mother scolding an uppity child.” Allowing his expression to soften, Law absently gazed out the window as he continued, “On top of that, her compassionate displays bank up enough good karma that I can’t stay mad for long. After all, no one else brings me onigiri or bullies me to get some sleep when I’ve been cooped up in my lab for days. So yeah, if it keeps someone else from getting their filthy hands on her, I’d gladly give her the wedding of her dreams.”

Stretching his long arms before linking the fingers behind his head, Doflamingo sniggered. “How sweet. Ok, I’ll bite; who would you suggest as the groom? Pica? Buffalo?”

Though he kept his expression strategically banal, inside Law was crowing. Joker was reacting exactly as he’d predicted, and he’d already prepared a response for every man he might suggest. “Pica’s too volatile and Buffalo’s almost as impulsive as she is. She needs someone who can handle her violent mood swings and bring her to heel. Besides, I’d hate to waste such a beauty on them.”

“Harsh, but fair. Hate to say it, but that really limits our options. Vergo fits the bill, but he’s a bit preoccupied with the Navy, and I can’t trust that she wouldn’t run off to be with him and blow his cover.” Rubbing his chin, Doflamingo mentally ran down his list of subordinates. “How about Senor Pink? Baby 5 and the guy who dresses like a baby!” he laughed, tongue lolling out.

Internally scowling at the bad joke, Law shook his head. “The man’s dressed like that to honor his late wife for years; remarrying won’t do his mental state any favors, nor hers.”

“Yeah, guess you’re right. Gladius?”

“I don’t trust that he wouldn’t blow her up if they got into an argument. Baby-ya’s feisty, and I doubt he’d show the same restraint I do if she ever slapped him.”

The shichibukai raised an eyebrow at the nickname. It had been an intentional slip, something to lead Joker to the conclusion he needed. “Kid, quit beating around the bush. Fun as it is acting like a pair of matchmaking old biddies, you never would have suggested this if you didn’t already have someone in mind. Out with it.”

Taking a deep breath through his nose, Law finally stated, “Me.”

This time, there was no laughter from Doflamingo. No snide comment. Just a tense pause as the two pirates stared each other down.

“You’re serious.”

“I am. I’ll even say it plainly; I want Baby 5.”

Uncrossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees, he scoffed at his Corazon. “Law, you’ve always been a realist; you know you’ve only got so many years left to live, and you’ve acted accordingly.” Recalling the first time he’d taken his young protégée to a gentleman’s club, he chuckled. He’d felt like a proud papa watching the teen saunter off to one of the private rooms with a beautiful woman on each arm and a damn attractive man in tow. By the time they left the next morning, none of Law’s partners had been in any state to move. “When you’re not down in your lab, you’re fucking whoever you please. Hell, even I’m impressed with the number of notches on your belt at your age! So, considering how marriage tends to clash with your lifestyle, what’s got you suddenly looking to settle down?” he asked, blonde eyebrow raised in suspicion.

This was where Law would have to tread carefully. He knew how out-of-character his proposal seemed; on top of regularly inviting scantily dressed partners to his chambers, everyone knew that if Trafalgar Law vanished suddenly, he’d reappear in no more than a week, hungover and reeking of sex, drugs, and blood. In reality, though the sex was a great stress-reliever, those wild benders also gave him the perfect cover whenever he had to disappear for a few days to carry out one of the more clandestine aspects of his plan. A committed relationship, much less marriage, would put a damper on that.

Yet if it led to the Heavenly Demon’s painful and humiliating downfall, it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. Staring at his glass in contemplation, Law replied, “I’ve been thinking about the future. The Perennial Youth surgery has been difficult to research, and even harder to practice, but I’m confident that I’ll figure it out in due time. After everything you’ve done for me, I owe you that much. But that’s got me wondering; eternal youth isn’t the same as immortality. You could, theoretically, still be killed. Possibly even get sick or poisoned. Unfortunately, I won’t be there to help you, and genius like mine is hard to come by. So, why not pass down my genetics and ensure you’ll still have a medical prodigy even after I’m gone? Maybe even your next Corazon?”

“And you want to have that with Baby 5?”

“She’s gorgeous, biddable, and feisty enough to not bore me. More than that, with her unfortunate childhood, I can guarantee she’ll be a doting and protective mother yet won’t stand in your way when you choose to take the kid under your wing. Really, I couldn’t ask for a better option.”

Law could see the wheels in Doflamingo’s head turning. He’s chosen his words very carefully—fatherhood might potentially give the doomed doctor something to live for, but it just as easily created an exploitable weakness. A baby would give Joker extra leverage, something to hold hostage or threaten should the Surgeon of Death appear to have second thoughts about performing the surgery.

Of course, Law had no intention of producing such an asset. He’d sterilize himself and Baby 5 if need be. No child of his would be twisted in Joker’s sick image.

The Heavenly Demon studied him thoughtfully, his gaze intense even through his sunglasses, chin resting on his entwined fingers. “That’s all true, but I’m surprised; with how long you’ve known each other, I’d assumed you thought of her like a sister or something.”

The Dark Doctor’s grin was lecherous, gold eyes hooded as he replied, “I can assure you, I’d never think of my sister the way I’ve thought about Baby-ya.”

“It’s the maid outfit, isn’t it?” he chortled, tongue lolling out to sweep lewdly across his lips. “And here I’d thought you had a thing for nurses.”

Smug, lecherous grin in place, Law winked. “Oh, those are nice, but my real kink is short uniforms and obedience.”

“And Baby 5 has an abundance of both. That doesn’t mean I’m on board with this. No offense, but you’re not the type of guy I trust to respect the bonds or marriage.” Though he remained smiling, there was little pleasure in the expression—more like a threatening baring of teeth. “If you cheated on her, I’d have to start removing some pretty specific body parts, and don’t think I’d let you reattach them.”

It was a vivid, yet not unexpected threat, so Law didn���t even flinch. Instead, he donned a playful grin. “Oh, come on, Doffy; haven’t I been a good boy? You’ve been dressing her up like a pinup since we hit puberty, parading her around like the most delicious forbidden fruit I could imagine, and I never so much as took a bite because I respected your authority. I mean, with how obsessed you’ve been with keeping her pure as virgin snow, part of me assumed you were saving her for yourself.”

It was a dangerous idea to put in the shichibukai’s head, but one Law didn’t trust Vergo or Trebol not to suggest just to spite their fellow executive. It was no secret that the Club Seat and former Corazon held no shortage of jealousy towards him, and if they had any idea that he coveted Baby 5, whether they knew his ultimate plan or not, they’d do their best to interfere. This way, he could at least nudge Doflamingo away from such thoughts.

As he considered it, his threatening expression relaxed. With a single gulp he finished off his glass of brandy, grabbing the bottle to pour himself a generous refill. “Yeah, I’ve thought about doing her.” Lounging against the couch, his lips stretched into a lecherous grin, long tongue swiping over his gleaming teeth. “Hot little thing like that, all bright eyes and tasty curves…but Baby gets attached too easily. Fucking her means your bachelor lifestyle is dead, since she’d probably kill any other woman you even looked at.”

Pleased that his plan was still on track, Law felt the tension in his spine melt away. “Exactly; I’m not blind to what I’m getting into. Hell, I thought you’d be thrilled—since I won’t be wasting time chasing tail, I’ll be able to devote more of it to my research. No need for week-long benders when I’ve got wifey waiting for me at home.”

Leaning back, Doflamingo threaded his fingers together in thought. “Alright, Law, say I am considering your proposal; I’ve got a few stipulations.”

“Name them.”

“One, if you’re insisting on marrying her, you’re gonna be the best damn husband she could ask for. No cheating, fucking about, or even flirting with men, women, or anyone else. And definitely no more drug-fueled benders—gotta set a good example for the kids, right?”

“Of course.” Much as he did enjoy his bursts of rebellious freedom, he’d easily made peace with giving it up. The drugs had long lost their thrill, barely even having an effect on him anymore. Violence he could still enjoy in the lab or even on missions for Joker. As for the sex…

With how eager to please Baby 5 was, he doubted it would even take long to train her up to be the perfect lover, submissive and pliant, ready for him whenever he desired. On top of having her warm his bed every night, it’d be so easy to call her down to the lab and put that hot little mouth to use, or corner her in a dark hallway for a quickie.

“Two, I’m gonna need your timeline for getting me Law 2.0.”

The request pulled Law from his lustful thoughts, reminding him to focus on the task at hand. “Though I’m sure she’s plenty fertile on her own, I have plans to develop a drug to increase the chance of twins; that way, the odds will be in our favor of getting another medical genius. On top of that, I need to study mine and Baby-ya’s genetic material and physiologies to ensure our Devil Fruit powers won’t cause any unexpected complications. Should her transformations affect her uterus, I’ll have to demand she not be given any assassination missions for the duration of her pregnancies.”

“So how long are you saying you need to knock her up?”

This time the smug, lecherous grin on his face was completely genuine. “I mean, I’m not going to wait to start fucking her—if I’m expected to be faithful, she’s going to do her wifely duties. But I won’t start the fertility treatments until at least a year in, when I’m confident we’ll have the results we want.”

“If you’re in no rush to put a baby in Baby, why do you want to marry her now?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips softened with the barest hint of affection. “Because it’s Baby 5; we take our eyes off her for a moment, and she might actually wise up and elope. I mean, I’m completely willing to murder whatever shit-stain tricked her into running off, but then she’ll be all pissed and that tends to put a damper on a relationship.”

“Ok, fair point.” He rubbed his chin, looking heavenwards in consideration. “I’m guessing you’ll probably want a few years with the kid before you perform my surgery, right?”

“Just for the sake of being sure I am leaving you with a genius,” he assured, hands up in surrender. “I showed signs of being a medical prodigy by the age of three, and I’m happy to impregnate Baby-ya as many times as necessary to hedge our bets.”

“Fuffuffuffuffu! The way you’re talkin’ I might end up with a whole herd of Trafalgar rug rats running around!”

“Hey, the Family did a good job raising us and Dellinger. I trust you’ll turn my children into fine, upstanding members of society once I’m gone.”

The two glanced at each other, then shared a hearty laugh.

“Ok, ok, fine; I can wait a few years for Corazon Jr.,” Doflamingo chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. “And I appreciate you stacking the odds in my favor. You’re good at planning shit, Law, so I trust you to do whatever it takes to get me at least one genius.”

“Happy to hear it,” he responded, linking his hands behind his head and relaxing in his chair. The Heart Seat was still mockingly uncomfortable, but bit by bit he was getting closer to his chance to reduce the damn thing to ash.

Three long fingers were held up as Doflamingo’s grin became more mischievous. “Which brings me to my third stipulation: trust. If you want me to trust that you’re serious about this whole marriage deal, I’m going to need you to prove it.”

“How?” Law asked, curious but unconcerned.

“You propose to Baby 5, and I’ll throw you the wedding of the century. Flowers, music, not a crumb of bread at the reception—you name it and I’ll pay for it. But the engagement will last at least a month. In that entire time, you’re as celibate as a monk—no fucking girls, guys, or even jerking off. And before you get any funny ideas, that also means Baby’s off limits until your wedding night.”

Insulted, Law narrowed his eyes. Sure, he was a degenerate and had deliberately cultivated the image of being a careless fuckboy, but he was also a highly trained surgeon, a ruthless torturer, and his right-hand man; did Doflamingo really think a month without sex would break him? That after all his careful planning, such a stupid stipulation would scare him off? Did he honestly have such a low opinion of him after everything Law’d done for the former noble?

Oh, as if he didn’t already have a thousand reasons to slowly crush his boss’ heart between his fingers.

“Deal,” he ground out through his teeth.

His white-knuckled grip on the chair only tightened when Joker laughed. “You don’t sound very convincing, kid! If you don’t think you can do it, just back out now! I’ll marry her off to Trebol or something and you can knock up a random hooker.”

“I don’t want some prostitute—I want Baby 5!” he snapped, gold eyes glinting dangerously in the fading rays of the sun. Silly as it was to get angry over such a little thing, Law was nearing the edge of his patience, and he hated seeing a carefully crafted plan threatening to fall apart when he was so close to getting what he wanted.

“Hey, don’t give me that scary look!” Doflamingo chortled, his leisurely sip of brandy unable to hide the self-satisfied smirk. “I’m just looking out for everyone’s well-being.”

No, you’re playing with us like puppets, he thought sourly, forcing himself to calm down. This was all just part of the man’s sadistic game, and he’d walked right into it. But Law refused to let himself get jerked around like a marionette. “As am I. We both know my plan works out best for everyone. I get an obedient, healthy wife whom I can trust to carry my legacy. Baby-ya gets her dream of being married, and when I’m dead she’ll still be blissfully needed by our child. And you get both your next Corazon and insurance that your favorite assassin won’t run off with some scumbag looking to use her against you. But if you really feel I need to prove myself, fine—I’ll stay completely celibate until the wedding night.”

“You sure?”

“Doffy, I’m going to make this clear; if you try to marry Baby-ya off to a freak like Trebol, she’s going to become a widow and you’re going to need a new Club Seat.”

“Ok, ok! You’ve made your point.” Sitting back, he gave a mock toast with his snifter. “If you think you can reign her in, I’ll bless your joyous union. I’ve got better things to do than kill idiots trying to separate our family and dodge her angry murder attempts. But marriage had better not turn you soft.”

Pleased that he finally got his way, Law let himself fully relax. “It won’t. Ultimately, it’s just a means to an end, but one that will satisfy all parties.”

“You sure Baby will be able to ‘satisfy’ you?” he asked with a leer. “Pretty sure she’s been waiting for a husband to pop her cherry; virgins can be hot, but that kind of inexperience can be frustrating, too.”

Remembering the way she’d sucked his thumb in the lab, Law wasn’t worried. “She’s biddable and eager to please, so I’m sure she’ll do everything possible to keep me satiated. Hell, a woman like that is practically tailor-made for me, since I can train her up to do what I like instead of having to break any bad habits.”

“Good, because I’m serious about not letting you cheat on her, Law. I want us all to be a big, happy family, and as the patriarch, it’s my job to keep everyone in line.”

Is that why you murdered your own brother? Law sneered quietly. Because he stepped out of line? Because if that’s your biggest concern, then you’ll never see me coming. Careful not to let his thoughts bleed onto his face, he nodded. “Understood.”

Grin shifting into something more easygoing and friendly, he asked, “So, when are you gonna ask her?”

The Corazon finished his warm brandy, taking the opportunity to think it over. “Next week. There’s a full moon, I’ll have time to pick out a ring, and I’m sure I can set up some nice, romantic music or something.”

“Shit, you’re taking this seriously.”

“Of course. I refuse to let anyone mock me and compare my proposal to those other worthless peons’.” Mostly, though, a week would give him time to take care of some loose ends. He expected Joker would be watching him closely during the engagement to ensure he really did hold up his promise to be faithful, and combined with actually putting a wedding together, there’d be little chance to work on his ultimate plan until after the honeymoon.

Though, perhaps he could use his honeymoon as a chance to visit Ceaser’s lab on Punk Hazard, and maybe swing by Sabaody to recruit more men to serve his cause. Considering the number of slaves Doflamingo shipped to those auction houses, surely more than a few would be happy to get some revenge against their captor.

Well, marriage is looking easier already, he thought with a grin.

Mistaking his expression for something else, Joker laughed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were smitten, kid!”

Tattooed hand pressed to his chest, Law sighed dramatically. “Is that really so hard to believe? Just because I’m a heart stealer doesn’t mean I can’t fall in love. Why, maybe all the wanton sex has been my way of coping with the cruel possibility that I’d never get to be with the one woman I truly care for!”

The two men shared a laugh at the absurdity of the idea. Baby 5 may believe in such crap, but her betrothed and boss knew better—the world was cruel, love was more painful than death, and no matter how you dressed them up, people were at their core nothing more than vicious animals looking to rip each other’s throats out.

“Regardless, I trust you’ll be discreet until after I pop the question?” Law asked. “I’d hate for someone to ruin the surprise.”

“You mean sabotage your perfect moment. Monet’ll be heartbroken when she hears.”

“She’ll get over it,” Law scoffed. He’d had a few fun evenings with the harpy, but she was of no importance to his plans. Though it did bring up the concern that she might try to turn Baby 5 against him before he could put her completely under his thrall. He’d have to ask Violet to keep an eye on her. “Maybe she’ll catch the bouquet.”

“And if she’s lucky, Trebol won’t be around for the garter toss!”

XXX

A week later, Baby 5 received orders from a grinning Doflamingo to clean up a mess in the palace garden. Broom and dustpan in hand, she marched out into the moonlight, mood sour despite the beautiful evening. Law had avoided her since he’d promised to talk to Joker; every time she so much as caught a glimpse of him, he’d disappear, using his powers to easily escape. Even when he had no choice but to be in the same room as her, such as dinner or meetings, he refused to meet her gaze, intently preoccupying himself with some other task or simply looking through her as if she were invisible.

Maybe Doffy told him to stay away from me, she thought with a sniffle. Maybe he didn’t approve the match and he now wants Law to stay as far away from me as possible. Or maybe Law decided he didn’t need me as his wife.

There was another painful possibility—that she’d dreamt hers and Law’s entire conversation. There was no hint that he’d spoken to the young master. No hint he even remembered flirting with her in the lab. Had he really held her close, asked if she’d ever been kissed, shared that cigarette with her? Or had she been so distraught by yet another dead fiancé that she’d begun to hallucinate?

Maybe I’m just completely crazy and my useless brain is making shit up because it knows I’ll never get married! God, I’m such an idiot! I never should have gotten my hopes up, she thought as she wiped a stray tear from her eye.

There was no time for feeling sorry for herself now, though; she had a job to do. She was needed in the garden. Once she was done, she could sneak off to her room and indulge in a good cry over her pathetic state.

As she entered the garden she was greeted by the soft sound of smooth jazz, and as she curiously made her way towards it, she wondered if this was the “mess” she was supposed to clean up. Right arm transforming into a pistol, she whirled around a large hedge, ready to blow the musician’s heads off, only to find the barrel of the gun inches from Law’s chest.

“Whoa, easy, Baby-ya!”

Immediately she froze, horrified that she’d nearly shot her superior. “I’m so sorry, Law!” she exclaimed with a deep bow. “Doffy told me there was a mess to clean up, and I assumed—”

“It’s alright; this is Joker’s fault,” he insisted, cupping her chin to make her look at him. His mouth was twisted in annoyance, and she wondered if he’d settle for just scolding her or if she had an evening of dismemberment to look forward to. “He should have just told you I wanted you to meet me out here.”

Law’s greater height forced her to straighten up, otherwise she’d be able to look no further than his chest. She blinked as she realized he was dressed rather nicely; smart black blazer and trousers, yellow dress shirt with the top three buttons undone, freshly polished shoes, and glittering gold earrings and cufflinks. The spicy scent of cologne tickled her nose, and she recognized it as the deep, musky fragrance he wore whenever he went out, and one of the myriad of smells his sexual partners reeked of when they left his room.

Amethyst eyes swept across the little clearing, taking in the small table with its crisp white tablecloth, which she identified as the one she’d ironed not an hour ago but had mysteriously gone missing. A vase of scarlet roses, a bottle of red wine, and two crystal glasses were carefully arranged on top of it, and with the small jazz quartet off to the side and the soft glow of the moon and surrounding lanterns, she finally understood.

The Corazon was out here meeting someone. Someone he was looking to impress. To her knowledge, he never put in this kind of effort for someone he simply intended to fuck, so whoever it was had to be really special.

No wonder he’d been avoiding her all week.

“Was there something you needed?” she asked softly, trying not to let her disappointment show.

In leu of an answer, he strolled over to the table and pulled out a chair, pointing at the seat meaningfully. Frowning, she studied the seat, not seeing any dirt but wiping it down anyway with her apron. An irritated little vein ticked on his forehead at her response, so she quickly tried to figure out what else he could possibly need. Should she fetch a cushion? Was the chair itself unsatisfactory and he wanted her to get a new one?

“I want you to sit in it, Baby-ya,” he finally said with an exasperated little eyeroll.

Red stained her cheeks in embarrassment. Asking her to take a seat was the last thing she expected, but maybe he wanted her to test the strength of the chair? She’d cleaned Law’s room several times after a one-night stand, and broken furniture was not an uncommon sight.

Gingerly sliding into the chair, she was surprised when he pushed it in, taking the seat across from her.

Feminine fingers fiddled nervously with the ruffled hem of her apron. What was she doing here? What did Law need? Shouldn’t she get out of the way before his real date showed up and got the wrong idea?

“Beautiful night, isn’t it?” he asked, resting his sharp chin on the bridge of his linked fingers, smirking slightly as he took her in. It was the first time he’d really looked at her all week, and she wondered if she was dreaming again.

When she nodded mutely, he continued, “Sorry for the calling you out on such short notice; I wasn’t sure everything would come together in time, and there was a threat of a storm rolling in. Plus, with all the planning I’ve been doing this week, I’ve been so tired I barely knew what day it was. The invitation almost completely slipped my mind.”

The full moon illuminated his face, and she could see the dark circles under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. Insomnia had always been a problem for him, but she knew it got worse when he was stressed. And when it got especially bad, his temper was a lot shorter, and he was more likely to take it out on her when she got in his way. Why didn’t he ask her to take care of things? When it came to stuff like this, she was incredibly useful! She could set a table and deliver messages. If it helped, she was even willing to let him cut her into pieces so he could let off steam! Did he think she’d mess it up? Was he so sure he didn’t need her? “You did a good job,” she assured weakly.

His large, tattooed hand plucked one of her own from her lap, his rough thumb rubbing teasing little circles across her knuckles. “I’m glad you like it. I’ll be happy to leave the wedding planning to you and Joker, though; picking out tablecloths and flowers was absolutely mind-numbing.”

“Wedding planning?”

“Of course.” Baby 5’s heart quivered as he linked their fingers. It all felt like a scene from one of those romance novels she sometimes snuck from Giolla’s room. The moment where a pair of lovers confessed their feelings, none but the moon to bear witness.

As he poured a generous amount of wine into her glass, Law placed a butterfly kiss to the tip of her ring finger, followed by a light nip. “I like to think it’ll be a classy affair, but with Doflamingo in charge I’m not holding out hope. Still, so long as I get to see my obedient bride in a beautiful white dress, I can’t complain.”

“That sounds nice,” she managed to say, even though it felt like he was slowly strangling her. Even if his promise in the lab hadn’t been real, could he really be so cruel as to mock her with plans for his wedding when her dream was slowly being bashed to bits?

He raised an eyebrow. “You seem far less excited than I’d imagined.”

“Oh, no, of course I’m excited! I’m sure your wedding will be lovely, and I’m happy to help if you need me!” she said with a pained smile, desperately holding back her tears.

Smile dropping, his gold eyes narrowed. “Ok, this is ridiculous—you take the most innocuous comment from a complete stranger as a proposal, but you honestly can’t tell when I’m trying to ask for your hand in marriage?”

“What?”

Pulling out a small, velvet box, he presented her with a gold ring, a heart-shaped diamond gleaming in the center. He smirked at the way her eyes widened in shock. “Joker gave his approval, and I said when I proposed it’d be far better than what those scumbags had done. Now, are you going to stare at me forever, or are you going to say you’re mine?”

“…am I hallucinating?”

Reaching across the table, he gave a harsh pinch to the soft skin of her wrist.

“Ouch!”

“Proof enough that this is real? It’s been an exhausting week, Baby-ya, and I’d like to spend the rest of the evening drinking a nice glass of wine with my future wife before the hell of wedding planning starts. Though, I suppose if you don’t want me…” he trailed off as he slowly began to close the box.

A stampede of thoughts galloped through her head, barely comprehensive but all arriving at the same conclusion.

Law had asked her to marry him, and she needed to give an answer.

“Y-yes!” she exclaimed, ready to leap over the table, but his upraised hand between them stopped her.

“As much as I’d love to have you in my arms,” he said with a tired but triumphant grin, “I promised Joker I’d be a gentleman until the wedding. That means we’re going to have to keep touching to a minimum.”

“But why?” she asked curiously as he slipped the ring onto her finger. The diamond gleamed in the dim light, and it all finally felt so real.

She was finally going to become a wife!

Overwhelmed with emotion but unable to embrace her betrothed, she settled for grabbing his hand, kissing his fingertips like he had hers, her lips momentarily wrapping around his finger. Surely that counted as keeping touching to a minimum while still letting him see her gratitude, right? And he’d seemed to like it when she sucked his thumb that time…

She gasped as his long fingers wrapped around her wrist, tugging her forward so hard she knocked over her glass of wine, the burgundy liquid seeping into the clean white tablecloth.

Hot lips pressed to her ear as he rasped, “Because you’re too fucking irresistible for your own good, and if I’m going to make it to our wedding night, I need you to be a good girl and not tempt me.”

Liquid fire pooled between her thighs at the way his baritone voice called her a “good girl,” and she couldn’t help but let out a little whimper in response. He seemed to catch her reaction, as his voice became even rougher as he said, “Do you like that, Baby-ya? Does being called a ‘good girl’ turn you on?”

Swallowing hard, she tried to pull away, but his hand was like a shackle, unrelenting in its task of keeping her captive. “Yes,” she practically whispered, a little ashamed. Good girls didn’t get so hot and bothered over a few simple words. A good girl wouldn’t have tempted him. A good girl wouldn’t secretly want their superior—their future husband—to pin her to the table and show her what those romance novels meant when they talked about a man bringing his lover to the peak of pleasure.

She heard him take a deep, steadying breath before finally releasing her wrist, sitting back down and refilling her glass as if nothing had happened. Gold eyes flickered up to meet her breathless and confused gaze, and his wicked smile made her chest tighten and tingles dance through her nervous system.

“Then I’m looking forward to you showing me just how good you can be on our wedding night.”

[stuckwith-harry]

Thoughts on Lover by Miss Swift as a Ginny x Harry song? 💘

an EXCELLENT idea, rebecca, let’s GO

we could leave the christmas lights up ‘til januarythis is our place, we make the rules

first of all, i live for taylor’s lyrics describing domestic bliss / small, unglamorous displays of love and romance like that - we dance around the kitchen in the refrigerator light … but i’ll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year’s day … these tender, specific, personal images she paints are like, my favourite lyrics of hers ever, and they’re my favourite lyrics on this song, too

second of all, obviously harry and ginny are the disaster couple that doesn’t throw out the christmas tree ‘til mid-march. they’re very busy okay

and there’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

this line reminds me greatly of harry as drawn by @blvnk-art​ i’ll hear no criticism

have i known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

soulmates !!!!!!! s o u l m a t e s !!!!!!!!!!!

can i go where you go?can we always be this close?forever and evertake me out, and take me homeyou’re my, my, my, my lover

i mean …………….. ❤️💗💓💖💘💝💟

we could let our friends crash in the living roomthis is our place, we make the call

again ……….. i love these lyrics i love them i LOVE THEM

and i’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you 

international quidditch sensation ginny weasley & saviour of the wizarding world head auror harry potter? yeah, this lyric checks out. just think ……….. think about the ABS these two have. think about that

i’ve loved you three summers now honey, but i want them all

this is an excellent opportunity for me to claim summer as hinny’s season. it’s theirs. it belongs to them now. no heart-shaped sunglasses for hinny haters. drinks by the pool are on me

ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?with every guitar string scar on my handi take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blueall’s well that ends well to end up with you

genuinely need to take a break from typing out these lyrics ………. you can really hear me crying over the wedding bells ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL ………….. TO END UP WITH YOU ……………………………

swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

this is about them fucking with the daily prophet / witch weekly about whatever affairs they’re allegedly having etc which, coincidentally, is one of my favourite hinny headcanons

and you’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

i mean ………….. that’s canon

and at every table i’ll save you a seat, lover

okay so this made me think about their careers first, because, merde, these kids are busy. i imagine they’d tread along to each other’s work events a lot - ministry functions that harry hates and post-match victory parties that are crowded and nosy, interviews, lengthy press conferences filled with nosy journalists - so they need to find ways to make time for each other and treat each other as a priority in their hectic schedules. to, metaphorically speaking, save each other a seat

but then i thought about the dinner table at the burrow, the long-established saturday night dinners, often the only real constant part of the week, the one time a week when they all get to see each other and spend time together, the ever-growing whirlwind of different generations of weasleys - ginny’s biological family, harry’s chosen one. harry’s seat at that table. ginny taking his name when they get married. harry’s seat at that table.

thank you for asking, this has been a joy to answer! stream lover!💘

[danganxastrologyimagines]

“ DR2 kids react to going out on a mission with their s/o that involves hilarious over the top disguises”

Hajime Hinata:

You noticed how sad he looked. You knew he wasn’t his usual self, but he insisted that he was doing just fine.

Being the lover you are, you didn’t believe him for a second, and you made up a mission where you would work with Fuyuhiko and Kazuichi to do a chase scene.

Basically, you would be the person that’s trying to chase down Kazuichi, who had a swimming cap on hiding his hair. Fuyuhiko would join in, managing to persuade Hajime to come out with you. He would say that he was on the other side to Kazuichi, cornering him effectively.

Hajime does come out with you to chase down Kazuichi, and Hajime hears you say all of these over-the-top statements.

“Stop right there, criminal scum!”

Where has he heard that?

He looks over, and he only just then realises that you’ve disguised yourself as a guard, and he’s slightly annoyed by this discovery.

He turns the corner to see Kazuichi, and he tackles down the boy before he could continue with the plan.

He realises that Fuyuhiko was there as well, and Fuyuhiko couldn’t hold back his laughter at how determined Hajime looked.

Hajime had a talk to you about what was putting him on edge.

Chiaki Nanami:

Chiaki wanted to go out on a date, but you knew that she didn’t pick the place herself.

You tried to get her to pick the place, but she insisted that anything is fine as long as it was with you.

So, you decided maybe it might be a cute idea to do lazer tag.

You played a sergeant. It would be a change of pace which could be interesting.

You noticed that she looked really happy when you took her in, insisting that the games were on you.

When she nodded off  at times, you woke her up by exaggerating all of your movements while going “Soldier down! Soldier down! Send in back-up!”

It was a really fun date!

Nagito Komaeda:

He’s originally agreed because he knew that he may be needed for some major bait, or at least some good luck to strike during the mission.

Then he notices the apprearance his s/o is going for, and he can’t help but smirk playfully as he crosses his arms.

I mean, you said you were going to go disguised as a detective to blend in but you came out in the most detective-esque outfit, equipped with a magnifying glass and an equally as obvious fake mustashe. 

He thought that maaybe you were just doing this to look weird but gain friends during the mission, but then you started coming out with all these comical lines that made you look more suspicious as a detective.

Making innuendos, over-emphasising every time you thought about something.

Sonia Nevermind:

You were going to a meeting with her as her partner, and you didn’t know how the other people would like you. You heard of how poncy they were, and you didn’t want to do anything outlandish for them.

So, you dress up in a proper suit, bowtie and everything, and you even added a monacle because you thought that would help.

During the meeting, you would act almost like a butler to Sonia. You grabbed a hand towel and draped this over your lower arm, walking like you had a stick up your arse.

Sonia couldn’t help but love this, but she knew how worried you were.

You even spoke differently. It was a good accent, don’t get Sonia wrong. It’s just that she knew that you weren’t doing this because you wanted to do it.

Kazuichi Souda:

You wanted to cheer Kazuichi up after an interaction with Miu that led him to believe that you were more interested in her than you were than him. Miu knew you weren’t interested in her, and she remained friendly even after you explained to her that your heart was with Kazuichi.

You went to talk to him, but he would run away before you could grab his hand to hold him back.

So, you had to go undercover. 

You disguise yourself as a judge for his mechanical talent, and he doesn’t recognise you.

Once you entered the room, Kazuichi felt nervous, and it wasn’t because you were with the judges. It was because of how stereotypical you looked for a judge. 

You stood out like a sore thumb, but thanks to Miu’s help you didn’t look like you.

You also introduced yourself with a name that was, to an extent, similar to yours. He noticed the initals of your name matching up, and he had a few worries.

You approached him, looking extremely serious. 

“We need to talk.” You put out to him. The other people there already put him in as worthy of his talent that year - you just had to ask them to go in with you to look like they had more to say.

You leave the room with Kazuichi, and you sit him down in the seat that’s furthest from the door.

“So,” Kazuichi said. “what can I do to prove myself to you?”

You didn’t say anything.

You pressed a button, deflating your disguise.

“I should be asking that question, sir.” You put out, still in character.

Kazuichi grunted, getting up to leave.

“Dude, let the bitch talk!” Miu (who was hiding in the room), placed a hand on his shoulder.

You have a talk as a group, and you leave the room reunited as a trio.

Akane Owari: (shoutout to Mod Kirumi for giving inspiration for this one!)

Akane was looking forward to going out on a date with you to a restaurant, but when she was told that your boss had called you wanting you to do extra hours for your day shift, she became sort of sad that you couldn’t spend the day with her.

You arrived at work, and you started to work.You feel someone applying pressure onto your shoulders, and you turned around to see your boss there.

It turns out that someone else was supposed to do more hours. Your boss only realised this once she checked your hours, only to find out you did a lot of hours - more so than what your contract stated for a week.

She lets you go, giving you pay for the hours you worked that day, and you wanted to surprise Akane by inviting her out to eat disguised as one of her good friends - Nekomaru.

You knew that they were both together for the day, and you decided to send him a text, asking if you could switch with him (while being disguised as him) to surprise Akane after explaining your situation.

He agrees to do so, and he leaves once he gets the notification that you were outside of the restaurant they were in. A couple of minutes later, you took his place.

You couldn’t quite nail his voice, though.

Akane’s face wrinkles up, sniffing something.

“Did you take s/o’s deodorant? You smell like them, coach!” Akane queried, placing her chin on her hand.

You pulled off the wig you had on, and she couldn’t help but start crying.

“You made it!” She embraced you in a hug, tears still coming out.

You laughed, pulling her in closer. You paid for the meal, and you made sure that she had a good day with you.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu:

Normally, he would shoot down this shit as soon as you started.

But today he noticed that you looked particularly focused, and he wanted to find out what was going on.

You never tell him, just pressing a finger to your lips before running away giggling.

He tilts his head in confusion, before turning to get to a meeting with other Yakuza leaders.

--

He arrives, and he spotted you.

Oh my god.

You seem to have taken advice from Kokichi as what you should wear, and you chose to embody him as well.

You wouldn’t stop cracking jokes during serious situations, and Fuyuhiko was growing increasingly worried for you. The looks the other clan leaders gave looked neutral, but they were trying to hide something.

He’s internally sceaming, but he really freaks out when one of the leaders wraps their arm around yours.

“Oh my god, you’re hilarious!”

Everyone bursted out laughing. 

Fuyuhiko was so confused by this development. How did you not get hurt when you were pulling this during an interview?

Fuyuhiko then thinks about the looks the clan leaders had, and he realised they knew who you were, and you must have somehow negotiated with them to piss him off.

He has a very stern chat with you.

Mikan Tsumiki:

You were beginning to get annoyed by how Mikan would take anything bad from patients, fellow nurses, doctors, receptionists - you name it!

She insisted on you not worrying about it, how it’s okay for them to treat her in the way she is treated.

So, you take an indirect approach to sort out the situation.

You pretended to be a health inspector. More specifically, they would be a hand-hygienist.

You entered the ward she worked in, going after everyone in the ward that wouldn’t wash their hands when they needed to. 

You would approach the person by obnoxiously gasping, causing everyone else in the room to turn around to see what happened. You would drag the person over to the nearest hand sanitiser dispenser, tutting at them as you did so.

You knew your Mikan never failed to wash her hands efficiently, so you didn’t need to worry about that.

Teruteru Hanumura:

You decided to convince him to let you become a server for his diner. 

He agreed. It doesn’t take him much convincing, and he’s not as sexual as you thought he would be about the whole thing. Sure, there was one implied comment but it was extremely tame for him.

You decided to be as tv stereotypical of a server as possible, and you have never had so much fun with it.

Every other server decided to do the antics you did, and you made so many friends and positive memories.

He enjoyed seeing how happy everyone was around you, and he even played along when serving up the plates for you to take off.

Peko Pekoyama: (in this one, the s/o is the ultimate escape artist!)

It was the day that she had to show her proof of improvement as the ultimate swordswoman, but the people looking at her portfolio didn’t see an improvement so they had to think quickly.

They knew about your relationship, and they decide to reach out to you. They knew you could escape any situation possible, and you sometimes watched Peko when she was doing her exercises to maintain her talent.

After a meeting, you had a scenario to live up to. You were supposed to be a new student, going by the ultimate of mafioso. You had a proper disguise and all!

You were in her room, waiting for her to return. She was never tested on something that was in the comfort of her own room.

When she spotted you, she dashed towards you, unsheathing her sword.

Your reflexes kicked in, and you attempt to escape. She knew about the tricks you tried to pull, and you knew about the tricks she tried to pull.

It lasted a really long time, and Peko was beginning to tire herself out. You had some marks on your forearms, but they weren’t deep enough to cause permanent scarring. 

Peko had to think of new ideas, and she improvised.

She swiped up the way, getting your face.

Your hat falls off, and her expression changed from one of determination to one of surprise.

“s-s/o!” She cried out, reaching for your face. “Why did you do this?”

You placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing it before leaving. You had a bad feeling that this would affect Peko’s trust with you, but you were also glad that she was able to stay in hopes peak when you reported back to the institution.

Nekomaru Nidai:

Some of the people Nekomaru was coaching became significantly more lazy and stubborn after some of his overly optimistic comments, and you would see the glint of anger or sadness in his eyes. 

You couldn’t tell the difference.

You did an under-cover mission as a new student to Nekomaru, and he introduced you with all of the positivity he had in his mind.

You strolled over to your peers in the most obnixious manner, patting them on the back.

“Good thing I’m not with boring, lazy people!” You bellowed out.

Some of the people got really offended by that you said this, and they decided to try to gang up on you.

Oh hell no!

You flipped all of them over, much to Nekomaru’s (lowkey) approval.

He couldn’t help but smile at how effortless your flipping looked, and it also got the students to put in more energy again.

Ibuki Mioda:

You noticed how sad Ibuki appeared when she came back to your home one day. She insisted that she was doing fine, but there was something about her character that definitely didn’t seem like her.

You investigated yourself for a week, and you saw all of the messages people would directly give her. She didn’t care about the internet’s comment because of the fact that they were, really, faceless.

But in person, when reporters would make fun of Ibuki for not meeting society’s standards of singing, that’s what got to her. The reporters managed to jab at her insecurities, and it showed in her facial expression momentarily once she turned away from the cameras.

So, you decide to disguise yourself as a reporter yourself.

You would look like one of those bloggers on youtube, but your personality would almost match up to the reporters.

Almost.

You didn’t jab at her insecurities, you embraced her different personality and how she would manage to keep a strong personality through all of the comments.

When the sea of reporters came out, she didn’t originally recognise you.

Her eyes looked worried when you reached out for her, walking towards her.

“Miss Mioda! Miss Mioda!” You started screeching, taking a video of yourself with her as you started. “How does it feel to be the best of the best?”

Ibuki noticed your voice, and she brightens up.

“Ibuki thinks that this feels great!” She didn’t know exactly what to say, but she wanted to talk to her fans about being different through your video. “Being different is cool!” She giggled out, pinching your cheeks.

Byakuya Twogami:

You made it a competition. He accepted the challenge.

So now, you’re pretending to be him as he’s pretending to be you.

He’s struggling to get some parts of your character because of his love towards you. You managed to get him flutered when he tried to imitate you.

You made it worse by managing to get his interpretation of Byakuya perfectly. You acted like you had a job to do, you acted really serious etc.

He’s refusing to accept that you bet him, but you keep doing it every single time.

Mahiru Kozumi:

There were times that Mahiru would scrap pictures because they didn’t have the zing she thought they did.

You decided to dress up as an artist, one that looked like they were extremely serious.

You entered her room when she was there with the pictures she threw in the bin out of disappointment.

“Doll, where did you get these?” You started in your accent. “These are revolutionary!”

You then listed everything you loved about the pictures, more enthusiastic with every line you projected into the room.

“Honey, you’re evolutionary!” You finished, pulling Mahiru into a ressuring side-hug.

Gundham Tanaka:

Honestly, he’ll love it if he’s involved. 

He enjoys being able to play along with an over-the-top character as long as it fits his own ideals though, so you have to be slightly more strategic with him.

So, you land up doing a mission involving animals. You guys volunteered at the local vet to work for the day, and you decided to bring a personality Gundham didn’t quite expect.

You came as his admirer. What I mean by this is that you almost acted as his second-up, and you spoke like you were part of an organisation when you were chatting with other staff.

Gundham copes with this by playing up his character more, but internally he’s still so...surprised?

Like what was that? Why that character? 

aLSO WHY ARE YOU WEARING AN OUTFIT THAT MADE YOU LOOK LIKE YOU JUST LIKED FLUFFY THINGS?

Hiyoko Saonji:

You got real tired of how overly strict her parents became. 

It got to the point where they didn’t allow Hiyoko to go on dates anymore because she was supposedly not doing as well as she should be doing.

So, you decide to disguise yourself as a judge. 

You almost looked like an extremely strict business man, it honestly worried Hiyoko when she entered the stage front and saw you there.

She relaxes after she realises that it’s you, happy that you wouldn’t leave her because of her parents being dicks about the relationship.

As she’s dancing, you feel the eyes of her parents boring into the back of your head. You knew they didn’t know you were still dating Hiyoko, and you honestly thought that they were thinking it was you.

They didnt.

When you gave raving critiques, pointing out everything that was perfect, Hiyoko noticed how...dissappointed? surprised? What was that emotion? Regret?

You stand up to give her the award, and when you turned, the parents saw your face but thought nothing of it. 

You were glad that they were showing a new expression, one that didn’t literally say “we are so angry at you for not doing well.”

[lirulii]

It’s time for Good Ole hcs

The week has been such a Todhunter Moon Week i’m loving it

So some wild Sep+Tod apprenticeship headcanons because they’re amazing:

-Every apprenticeship in the Castle has an infamous nickname- For example, Sep and Marcia’s was called ‘The Rekindler’ or ‘The Fyre Apprenticeship’

-With Sep and Tod, however, due to the entire Ancient Ways re-discoveries, the nickname is ‘Nova Terra’ or ‘Nova Mundo’ depending on who you ask

-in the Pathfinder village it’s known as New Geo because the kids try to be cool amirite

-Chicken soup is the last, but very needed, resort when it comes to food courtesy of the blessed @geekyzelda and her stories

-They’re both ridiculously over and under qualified to attend those stuffy formal balls and meetings

-Don’t lie to me they try to see how many pastries they can fit in Tod’s bag

-Tod stays in the Junior ((and later Senior)) Girl’s Dormitories but sometimes she stays up in the Pyramid Library too long and crashes in Sep’s couch

-I know you were expecting angst but the REAL reason why Tod doesn’t sleep in the Apprentice Room like Sep did with Marcia is because while Sep was showing some new apprentices his rooms one of them was fooling around and blew the room up

-Their running joke for procrastination is “OH I/we were repairing the room”

-Sep founds an international Apprentice system with other countries,yet it’s secretly more for him to learn from higher up leaders because his self esteem is on the floor his first couple years as EOW

-CANONICALLY Angie has stated in two different cases that Sep gave Tod a silver version of the Flyte Charm and a star Charm with a silver dot 

-They’re both good in different ways s obs,,,

-Tod makes her month rotation in the Manuscriptorium when she’s 16

-She works as a scribe/Charm organizer but snuck down several times to look at the Historic Way archives with Oskar when she was supposed to be on-duty

-Sep also hands her off to Marwick, Sam, and sometimes Benhira Benhara for 3 weeks Traveling the Ways annually, starting in her 3rd year

-Literally anyone: Extraordinary we need you for a task

Sep, already heading away: call up my apprentice she can do it

Tod, in the middle of a midterm exam, 21 floors above: *looks into the camera like the office*

-The real reason why Sep makes her do that is to teach her responsibility and to not make her as reckless. Works a SOLID 75% percent of the time. Tod is already pretty responsible yet her biggest flaw is that she sees her Apprenticeship as only Magyk and no real-life situations

-The Castle harbors a small half-dislike for her initially due to all the events of Sandrider, and it takes her longer than Sep to earn her people’s respect

-He’s very open and will take his gosh longest to comfort Tod through her adolescence, from picking out dresses to the tangle that is feelings

-Sep picks up on her changes faster than Dan sometimes, which sends him through the roof with jealousy

-They also share a lot of sadness together, though-although Sep can’t relate with the immigrant situation he does remember how hard it was for him to cope with a missing family- Also helps with her PTSD moments ((specifically her Kraan nightmares which she continues to have until her young adulthood))

-Ancient Pathfinder language is a mix of German, Spanish, and Portuguese and in exchange for teaching Sep those Tod learns more about Ancient Scriptures

-There’s different types of green eyes- Sep’s are more Chrysoberyl while Tod’s are bright peridot ((because she’s so young)), but as she matures they become a nice lemon green with some teal undertone

-Tod in pristine robes, year one: h-hello Septimus I am ready for the lesson this afternoon

-Tod again, 19 this time, at 4 am, rolling up with her night clothes on and glow-in-the-dark sunglasses: whaddup hey there’s a cryptid in my room also I learned how to ride a unicycle with only Magyk

-Sep, taking off his own neon sunglasses: holy shit I taught you well

-One day Tod mentions meeting a certain Syrah Syara while doing an errand in the Port and Sep can’t meet her eyes for the next two days

-Sep eventually gets back on good friends terms with Rose again, only because Tod insists on taking extra lessons in Charms 

-In order to gain more knowledge about foreign Magyk, Sep teaches Tod how to use the Flyte Charm, while Tod teaches him how to Navigate the Ways and also breathe Underwater ((with the help of an Air Bubble Charm ofc))

-This results in her slamming into the Palace Walls and Sep nearly drowning- thrice

-From Tod’s 4th year onward they both gradually begin growing out their hair- to the  point where Sep rivals Rose in hair length 

-You: Marcia has light up sketchers

Me, the THM intellectual: Sep and Tod have sparkly heelies

-Tod later teams up with Oskar for the Sled race and Sep and Beetle are proud parents(tm)

-They actually dominate the race track until they get DESTROYED by Queen Jenna, who gets the right to race in Tod’ s senior year 

-It is customary to the EOW to give their Apprentice something in their initiation, but it’s also custom for the Apprentice to give their Teacher something back on their Departure Ball

-She gets them matching bronze rings inlaid with lapis with the words ‘Find a Way’ and Sep cries

-Septimus visits the PathFinder village for more business reasons and he’s honestly so honored like good Christ

-He’s great at fishing but is crap at rowing

-he fell out of his boat twice and tod never let him live it down

-In her junior year, Septimus starts prepping Tod for the Darke exam

-The training goes a little too well and her knowledge in Darke and Hidden Spells increases after her Darke Week, not quite on par with Sep but still making her a more feared

-The first time Tod sees the ghost of Cassi is when she turns 22

-Sep still picks Tod up from literally aNYWHERE with Spit Fyre, whether it be the next block or across an ocean

-If he can’t make it, Jenna makes it on the Dragon Boat

-Other people: Ms. Alice!! Your Teacher is so cool,,,, he’s so imposing and confident,,, he has a dragon,,he’s so cute,,

Tod, having seen Sep cry over the fact that snakes don’t have arms, fallen on his face while dancing with another countries' Princess, and made a rug out of Spit Fyre’s scales: um,,,sure Joanna,,, whatever you say,,,

-When she becomes older (18-19) Tod begins to mimic Sep’s original personality in THM- cold, formal, and cunning

-Sep begins to fear and after some arguments quickly snaps her out of it

-When she graduates from her Apprenticeship Sep names her the Head of the new International Magyk Relations branch of the Wiz- she spents her first two years basically travelling around, hardly seeing her friends, family, or her teacher

-Seps Title is ‘Extraordinary High Grace Septimus Heap’ and when he jokingly says Tod should get one as well, he suggests ‘Shining Lady Diana‘, based on her middle name

-HOWEVER, After finding a Lady bearing the same name, with an unfortunate fate, in the Ancient Archive, Tod decides to change it to ‘Shining Lady Moon’, based on one of her last names. To the irony of everyone, it sticks with her for the rest of her life.

That’s all I got for now ;D

[taotrooper]

Everlasting Flower: The Library (1)

Hey there, remember this fic universe? Yes, it’s back! I still need to write the rest of this story, I’m still sorting my ideas, and school’s going to kick my ass soon. However, here’s the beginning of something everyone has been dying to read, and it’s taken me ages between the writer’s block and my own indecision. I first wanted to tell the story of the setting first, but screw it. I hope you guys love it! I’ll try to have the second part done as soon as I can. There was too much going on, which is why I stopped it here.

Everlasting Flower (masterpost, tag, AO3 series) is an AU in which Ouryuu allowed Zeno’s blood to give Kaya a kind of immortality.

Chapter summary: In which Yoon’s day goes splendidly until Zeno introduces his wife in the vaguest, most confusing manner. It happens between the Lush Forest arc and the Sei arc.

Also of interest for @akayona-prompts​‘ prompt, “How about Kaya meeting the Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch?”

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

It was not an old lady at all. His hands were on the shoulders of a girl that looked just a little older than Yoon. Probably around Yona's age, or Shin-ah and Hak's at most. She didn't seem fazed by Zeno's stupid joke. At least the rest of the group looked as mortified as Yoon felt.

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

Yoon had seen so many sightings in their journey, but this was the most beautiful place he had ever seen in his whole life.

His feet moved on their own towards the nearest shelf. With reverence, his fingers reached to the tomes and stroke their rugged spine. The old smell of paper and parchment and ink rushed in and brought him to the first time Ik-soo gave him a book. He put the memory aside and squinted his eyes to read the faded titles. It seemed to be the foreign literature section since he was unfamiliar with the characters. That only made him more excited. What other wonders awaited him in the other identical shelves that filled the large hall?

He blinked out of his blissful trance to see the others. Zeno was containing his laughter, but everyone was in awe as well. Even Hak, who didn't seem to be a book lover, and Shin-ah, who was barely learning how to read, seemed impressed. Jae-ha looked almost as delighted as Yoon. Kija eventually called them to a wall with a cry that made a woman behind a desk make a "shhhh" noise with pursed lips.

"S-sorry," he apologized with a bow. "Everyone, look at this mural!"

The seven gathered next to Kija and examined it. The painting depicted five men. Their faces weren't in detail, the style being minimalist and focused more on the clothing and hair. The central figure, with the fanciest outfit, had an abundant mass of crimson locks that swayed in the air. It was much longer, but it was just like Yona's in an obvious glaring way.

No one said who they were aloud, but the subject was obvious from their hair colors. Zeno's golden mane was also spot on, and his art double was shorter than his companions.

"Were they...?" Kija began, one of his sharp nails pointing at a muscular white-haired man with an equally clawed white hand.

"Yup, they looked like that," Zeno nodded with a nostalgic smile. "I described them to the artist."

"It's a beautiful piece of art," Jae-ha said.

"Zeno didn't commission it. A librarian from long ago had the idea and I just went along with it. Of course, other representations of the Dragon Warriors are more popular, but this one's the best to me. Liberties are to be expected though, after the centuries."

Yoon glanced at Yona. Her expression was hard to figure out. She never talked about how she felt in regard to being a dragon god king's reincarnation. And it was her late father, that neglectful king Il whom Yoon disliked so much in the past, who had told her the myth of Hiryuu. How did that mural make her feel? Before he could think about it more or even ask her, she looked away and smiled at Zeno.

"Should we continue, Zeno?" she whispered. That's right, they had come to Senkyo on his request! The oldest of them had been the one to guide them into the building. And even though Yoon was itching to check out the rest of the bookshelves, they were still carrying their travel bags on their backs.

"Yup, sure!"

He took them to the series of desks where the shush had come from. A sturdy and stern lady in her fifties looked at them, squinting. She was probably near-sighted, Yoon assumed.

"Hello!" Zeno greeted with a huge smile, not caring about the silence he was breaking. He took out his medallion from his robes' pocket to show it around. "Long time no see, Miss."

The woman's eyes widened but she didn't lose her cool demeanor. "Lord Ouryuu, welcome," she whispered with a tinge of fervor. "How fortunate to see you again in my lifetime."

"Oh, come on, you're still pretty young," he chuckled, "and it's probably only been like seventeen years at most?" That amount seemed oddly specific to Yoon, but he bit his tongue and tried not to linger on theories of international wars or newborn princesses.

"It's fortunate regardless. Speaking of fortune, Lady Hummingbird has been expecting you."

"Ah, is that so?" Zeno's eyes lit up. "Good, I should meet with her. When did she arrive?"

"A week ago."

"Oh, okay. Where is she right now?"

"Hold on a second. Mai-chan, is the Lady in the back room?"

"No, ma'am," said a girl carrying books to a shelf, "I saw her going out. She said she was going to the marketplace for the afternoon."

"Thanks!" Zeno bowed to the women. "Everyone, let me take you to our room!"

"Our room?" Shin-ah cocked his head.

"Wait, we're staying here?" Yoon almost jumped with excitement. "Are the librarians fine with it?"

"Yup, yup." Zeno shook a hand. "This belongs to the city now, but my wife was the owner of this place at some point. The attic is still free for us to use."

"Wait, really?"

"Remember what I told you guys? Ouryuu doesn't have a village... but he has a headquarters on top of a library!"

Maybe it was the desire to read talking but, for the first time ever, Yoon thought Zeno was really cool.

They ascended the stairs carefully, with Zeno chatting in the front and answering to Kija and Yona's questions. Yoon had stopped paying attention, his mind still in the main hall with its many bookshelves. They finally reached a door that was precariously dancing on its hinges, not too hard to open and not even locked.

"Ah, loose again," Zeno shrugged and made a gesture towards the passageway. "Anyway, make yourselves comfy!"

Yoon's first impression was that it was unusually clean. Not a single cobweb. His finger swept through the surface of one of the many wooden crates and chests that laid anywhere, in search of dust. Just some specks, but not the coat of filth he would have expected in Zeno's territory. Perhaps the librarians maintained the tidiness for him, or it had been that Hummingbird person. His eyes inspected the back of the attic: only one bed, an old desk cluttered with writing utensils and trinkets and a flowerpot, and even more bookshelves. Light shined through a window between the desk and the bed.

"If we move these crates," Yoon said, "we could camp in the middle of the room tonight."

"Allow me," Kija smiled and set himself to work. Hak, Jae-ha, and Shin-ah joined him after setting their bags on the floor. Yona insisted to drag the smaller chests towards a wall. Zeno just looked around as he sat on the edge of the double bed, unhelpful. Normally Yoon would have disapproved, but... he figured being there shouldn't be easy for his friend. With curiosity, the boy stopped the supervision and approached the bookshelves. He couldn't silence the gasp in his throat.

Most of the books were medicine-related textbooks. He even saw the book Ik-soo had found among them. His urge to read was rising again, more powerful than ever. Forget the chests, this was the real treasure of the room! Before he knew it, one treatise on wound care was in his hands. That wasn't very polite; they probably were spares from the library's collection.

"Zeno... may I...?"

"Hmmm?" Zeno tilted his head and grinned when he saw the book. "Oh, sure! I mean, none of those are Zeno's but I'm sure my wife wouldn't mind at all! Knock yourself out!"

A weight like a stone sank inside Yoon's stomach. He would read that book senselessly whenever they had some free time regardless, but there was a tinge of guilt for reminding Zeno once again of his spouse, for remembering the reason they were there. He nodded with respect.

Once they had set their belongings, Zeno got up with a hop.

"Alright! I have to go to the marketplace. You guys don't have to come with Zeno if you don't want to. Feel free to rest here! We'll be back soon!"

Wait, Yoon pondered. What about his wife?

"Oh right, Lady Hummingbird?" Jae-ha asked. Zeno's smile got wider. Yoon had forgotten about the message from the librarian. Of course a living friend would get priority over a tomb.

The boy looked at the book in his hands. Then he stared at his travel satchel. Argh, why did he have to be so responsible?

"Tsk, guess I'm going to the marketplace," Yoon sighed. "We're short on money so we should sell some of my medicines while Zeno talks to this person." He noticed that his friends were raising eyebrows. "I know, I know, it's a pain but I can read these books later! This has more priority."

"Aww, Yoon!" Yona beamed at him. "We'll help you out."

"He's going to force us anyway," Hak shrugged.

"You got that right," Yoon said as he crossed his arms. "And you're helping too, Zeno. Don't think you're getting free from it just because you're respected in this town."

"Fiiiiiiiine~. I know just the best customer," Zeno smirked.

As they galloped downstairs and into the street again, leaving the bookshelves and Hiryuu's mural behind, Yoon thought once more about Zeno's insistence to go to this city.

The flames of the campfire flickered and danced in front of Zeno's eyes, as warm as the hearts of the kids, as warm as the stew in their bowls. Their playful voices and the sounds of crickets made music with the burning wood. Such a peaceful supper, such a peaceful night. He was as content as his own stomach. He —and Kaya— had called plenty of people their family over the millennia, but these were the ones he had been waiting for. It had been worth it, absolutely, especially now that they knew who he was.

"So where should we go now?" the Lad asked, always responsible.

"I don't know," the Miss said after slurping the remaining broth in her bowl. "Now that Shin-ah recovered, it's alright if we take the road again, right?"

Seiryuu shrank further inside his fur, avoiding their stares. His hand toyed with the squirrel's little ears with a nervous tremor. That ghost of his ancestor had been a naughty boy, but thankfully none of them held a grudge against him for possessing their little brother.

Zeno looked above. It had only been a new moon recently, so he could only see a thin silver slice of the growing moon above them. He made a quick, unsure calculation, as he usually did when he and his beloved traveled on separate ways: He last kissed Kaya after the others left Awa, right? There was a full moon back then. Yes, it should be time now, or perhaps one month short? Whatever, just as well.

"Hey..." he said, still staring at the moon, nocturnal breeze caressing his hair. "If we don't have a destination, could we... stop by Senkyo next? There's something important Zeno needs to do."

"Senkyo?" he heard several voices murmuring in confusion. He looked down, back to them.

"Where is that?" asked Hakuryuu.

"Northeastern Water Tribe, I think," the Mister said. "Near the Wind Tribe outskirts."

"Ah!" the Lad gasped, stars in his eyes. "Isn't that the city with the library?! Ik-soo has told me about it!"

"Library?" the Miss blinked.

"Yes! The place is famous because it has the only public library in Kouka! Anyone can go there and read their books! I've always dreamed about going there!"

"I've heard of it too," Ryokuryuu grinned, "and I wouldn't mind taking a look either."

"But what business can Zeno have there?" The boy stroke his chin. "Unless... are we going to research about the Sword and the Shield from the Prophecy? Is there a clue there? Is it time?"

"What?" Zeno laughed. "No, there's no such books or parchments for that! At least that I know of!"

The Lad and Hakuryuu seemed disappointed.

"Then why are we going there?" the Miss asked. "It must be important if Zeno asks us to go."

"Well, kinda," he nodded. He thought about Kaya and her sweet face, as bright as the firelight in the night. He couldn't help but soften his grin into a tender, nostalgic smile. "Hmmm, how should I explain it?" Saying that he must get his woman to drink a few drops of his blood every four moons at most would be too weird. He took a cuter, more sensible approach. Gave it the relaxing effect the city had on Kaya whenever they took a break from their trips. "Senkyo... is my wife's resting place, see? I want you guys to meet her. I know she'll be so happy to have all of us visiting!"

The silence would have been deafening if not for the crickets.

"Oh," the princess finally broke it with a sad smile of her own. "Yes, of course. We'd love to meet her, Zeno."

"It'll be an honor," Hakuryuu agreed.

Was it his impression or was there pity in their eyes? How come? Had they realized he had been apart for a few months from his wife and they felt bad for him? That was really sweet of them. Three or four months were nothing to him and Kaya, but a lot happened to normal mortal people in such a short time so it could be considered an eternity to them.

Oh well, they were going to stop being sad once they met her!

Zeno walked around the maze of market stands and dodged every person in the crowd after some quick scrutiny. This commercial area wasn't as massive as the Wanderer's Market they had visited before, and it had much less foreigners, but there were still plenty of people transiting. As the town was in the limits between two tribes, their trade system had prospered for reasons beyond the helpful allure of its famous library.

He finally caught sight of a familiar hairstyle from the distance. It was, no doubt about it, her short dark brown hair bouncing as she walked. He also recognized the casual kimono she was wearing.

"Kayaaaaaa!"

She turned and indeed, it was her. She quickly made her way with a pleased expression that was as cute as always. He met her with a hug and a squeeze. The scent of earth, herbs, and jasmine on her were so comforting. They were home.

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's alright," she smiled, "the situation lately has made traveling a bit hard. And I'm sure you guys were pretty busy!"

"You have no idea," Zeno smirked as he let go.

"Um, did you come alone?" She looked around them.

"Nah, I brought everyone. They set up a stand and they're selling medicine. Need some supplies? Because we reaaaally need the money!"

"I was gonna shop before leaving town but I can take a look. I don't want this old man of a husband and his happy hungry bunch to starve, after all."

Zeno raised his brow. He was almost certain he hadn't mentioned their little bandit group on the letter he left for her, so that meant she had heard about it and figured it was them. As expected from Kaya!

"It's a good name for a group, right?" he beamed. "Luckily we're much less hungry now but we'll appreciate your patronage."

"Then let's go!" she said as she took his arm and pulled him forward.

"Wait, wait, wrong direction," he managed to say. She stopped dragging him and let him lead the way. "Old ladies these days are so pushy."

"Hahaha, I was pulling, not pushing. These robes," she touched the sleeve of the arm she was clinging to. "Are the orange and off-white ones dirty or...?"

"Or."

"Oh, Zeno!" she sighed. "They had lasted so long and they were so pretty!"

"All clothes that can be worn will return to the Heavens."

"Did you tell them before...?"

She stopped walking. Zeno could feel the sweat on his forehead.

"Zeno, no!"

"I didn't know how to..." He scratched his cheek. "This seemed easier... Waiting until I had a chance to protect them... Being warriors and all."

She let go of his arm. The look in Kaya's eyes was the usual 'I can't leave you unsupervised' disappointed glance of a wife she had mastered skillfully. After shaking her head, her eyes were closed, the pout was gone, and a cheery big smile replaced it. Uh oh.

"No hugs for the rest of the day, no dessert tonight, and you're apologizing to them for making them cry." Zeno bit his lower lip and grazed skin with his dragon fangs. There she was, hitting right were it hurt. She softened her grin. "Should we meet them now?"

It had been a good day for Yoon. Senkyo's open marketplace was quite decent for business and Hak's charisma had been bringing clients to his blanket on the ground. The young ladies brought by him were less aggressive than in other markets, too. He was certain he would amass enough money for rice, salt, and the currently coveted fabric —for a new tent and Zeno's new need for spare outfits, which was becoming more than a pain. At this rhythm of self-destruction, he would have to get him a full store-made set of robes in the next city. That if they could afford it.

Speaking of the devil, or more like the dragon, Yoon heard the deceivingly youthful voice of Zeno, which made him turn.

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

It was not an old lady at all. His hands were on the shoulders of a girl that looked just a little older than Yoon. Probably around Yona's age, or Shin-ah and Hak's at most. She didn't seem fazed by Zeno's stupid joke. At least the rest of the group looked as mortified as Yoon felt.

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

"Anyway, here she is!" Zeno announced. "She's the special meeting!"

"Huh?" Yona blinked. "Ah, then is she Lady Hummingbird?"

"Ahahaha, you heard the nickname the librarians gave me? They like to make everything poetic." The girl bowed. "My name is Kaya, and it's very nice to finally meet Zeno's family!"

Everyone introduced themselves. She made a good first impression. Even Shin-ah, despite his introverted ways, seemed more at ease with her than, for instance, with Lili or any of their new friends during their journey. She just exuded a comforting, sweet aura very similar to Zeno's.

"I'm also here to buy some stuff." She knelt next to Yoon. "Zeno told me you make medicine. May I see?"

Yoon nodded and showed her his wares with seasoned experience. She picked the anti-inflammatory, the fever medicine, the cough drops, and the pain killers... and she asked at least three units of each. He just stared in horror.

"I-Is that for someone in particular?"

"What? No, no, no. Hasn't Zeno told you? I'm a healer."

Zeno hadn't told them anything at all about her, but Yoon wasn't going to tell her that. In fact, their mutual friend had wandered off to look for real elderly ladies to bring as customers.

"Oh! Thank goodness, I was getting worried about a person needing all of these at once."

"Haha, it's okay!" She took out her purse. "I usually make my own medicines with herbs from the road like you, but I'm going to Sensui next and I need all the extra supplies I can get." Sensui, huh? Yoon thought. She's probably going to treat the nadai victims, then. Yona seemed to read his mind.

"Ah, is it for nadai?"

"Yeah, they're looking for doctors for the nadai clinics. In fact, if you guys also have some spare ingredients for sale I'd love to buy them as well."

"I'll see what I can do," Yoon said. "I can't really give you everything I have because these rare beasts could get sick or wounded any time now."

"Ah, then it's okay," Kaya said. She opened one of the little bags to examine the goods. "Just the medicines are fine. By the way, is this recipe from Doku's handbook?" Yoon's eyes widened and his cheeks blushed. How could she tell the author of his treasured book just like that? "It is? I can tell by the gingery smell. It's a good formula."

"Yeah, so far it hasn't let me down."

"Want a secret? Add valerian to the mix. Just half a petal is enough. It doesn't cancel the effects and it just enhances the sedating agents."

"T-That's actually a great idea!" Yoon agreed.

"It makes the patient drowsier though, so you might want to warn them to take it better at night or when they're not going to do anything important."

"Thanks for the tip! That makes sense." It felt great to talk to an intellectual peer around his age with similar interests. More customers arrived, so Yoon sadly couldn't talk to Kaya until they were gone. Ao had positioned on Kaya's shoulder and she giggled as she pet the squirrel.

"Were you guys traveling around the Fire Tribe by any chance? I went to this little village full of soldiers to help with the plague, and they kept talking about a cute, talented boy healer called Yoon."

"That was definitely our Yoon," Yona clapped.

"Well, I'd say I'm more handsome than cute," he dismissed the compliment, cheeks and ears on fire.

"Or both," Kaya giggled some more. He thought those two girls together were about to kill him, but nothing prepared him to Jae-ha pulling him aside to talk in private, men only according to him. Kija hovered around but didn't form part of the two-person circle.

"Yoon-kun, you're red. Is it me or Kaya-chan is flirting with you?"

"...What?" Yoon just stared at him in disbelief. "Can't people just call me handsome without you assuming weird things?"

"She was paying a lot of attention to you ever since Zeno brought her."

"Because they're both healers, Jae-ha!" Kija intervened. "I'm with Yoon here. She's just being really friendly and having fun since they have a lot in common."

"You two know nothing about women. In any case just let me tease the boy in peace, Kija-kun, and let him do whatever he wants."

So he admits he's teasing, Yoon sighed and turned back to the stand. Of course Kaya was cute and she seemed very compassionate and smart and capable. She was much better than any good-for-nothing man who wanted to marry him because he cooked well. But it was a silly notion... they were both traveling and they had their priorities sorted out. As he sat down, she greeted him by waving her hand, and then she went back to talking to Shin-ah and Yona. He had no time to have a crush on anyone! Not even on someone this lovely!

Jae-ha let him work for a few minutes before making his relentless attempts more public.

"Kaya-chan," he said as he put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm just curious here. What would you say is your type of man?"

Everyone in the stand, even Yona and Shin-ah who hadn't heard the conversation, just glared at him. Kaya restrained a chuckle.

"Is this flirting? Because Zeno warned me this might happen with you."

The man immediately removed his arm and shook his head with a nervous smile, after muttering a couple of nos.

"Well," she poked at her own chin with her index finger," it's not like it matters much because I'm taken, but okay. Someone who's kind and sweet. I prefer soft faces on the cute side rather than manly handsome ones. Smaller built, not overly muscular or tall." Damn, that seemed targeted at Jae-ha's type. She continued. "Oh, and I prefer men who are older than me! A bit of an age difference if possible." And that... seemed targeted at Yoon, a fifteen year-old boy.

A specific image of a middle-aged short man with a belly and already balding, came to Yoon's mind. She certainly had strange tastes.

"I-Is that so?" Jae-ha kept grinning despite everything, his frown tense.

"Yeah! So you guys are all really pretty but too young for me."

"No one has asked you that," Kija sighed.

"So like my father," Yona murmured, deep in thought.

"Nah, I don't think so..." Kaya shrugged, perhaps too certain. Did she know it was King Il? What had Zeno, or perhaps even that idiot second Kan son, told her about them? Oh, that town and the knowledgeable librarians and Zeno suddenly having a more tangible life was making Yoon a bit too paranoid.

"Zeno and the Mister are back with someone in need!" Indeed, they were escorting an old man with arthritis who could barely walk. Yoon attended to him, glad to have a distraction. Kaya turned to Zeno, who crouched between her and Yona as if he had been working hard at all.

However, that man was the last client they got as the marketplace was about to close. The sun still hadn't begun to go down but guards were asking all stands to wrap it up.

"Ah, I guess we came too late," Yoon lamented. He packed his things and counted the coins. He found they had earned a good amount in the end, enough for their shopping list and any unexpected expenses in the near future. All and all, he was more than content. Books! Conversations! Money! An excellent day!

An excellent day that would soon turn for the bizarre.

"Let's go back! There's still daylight so I might be able to read something!" Yoon turned on his heels and started walking forward in big strides, with everyone following behind him.

"The Lad is looking forward to it!" Zeno laughed.

"Where are you going now, Kaya?" Yona asked. "We're off to the library."

"I'm going there as well!"

"You must frequent it a lot if the librarians gave you a nickname," Jae-ha said.

"I wouldn't say that. I don't go there a lot but it's the place where I come to rest every now and then, and a bit of a storage room. Sort of like my headquarters?"

'Headquarters'...? That word again. 'Rest' also rang a bell. Yoon stopped and looked back at Kaya. He looked down, and everyone else did with him.

Kaya was holding Zeno's hand.

Wait a second.

"You said you were taken, right?" Jae-ha said.

"Cute faces," said Yona.

"...Kind and sweet," Shin-ah said.

"Not too tall and not too muscular," Kija said.

"Older men and an age difference...!" Yoon said. The mental image of the balding man broke into pieces, to be substituted by a cute eternal seventeen year-old. No way. That's two thousand years old! That's way too much of an age difference, don't you think?!

Besides, wasn't his wife...? No, they were mistaken and she...? No way.

Kaya stared back in surprise and then she glanced at Zeno. She seemed more heartbroken than angry.

"Zeno, could it be? You didn't...?"

"I did!" he cried immediately. "I'm sure I did! That's why I brought them!"

"I thought they knew but..." Her hand released his and she met his eyes. "Then, how much did you tell them about me?"

He sighed. "I was waiting for them to ask me things about you, but they... never did."

"Oh no, don't drag us into your lovers' quarrel," Hak raised his hands, deadpan.

"I did think they were being a bit unexcited and distant..." Kaya pouted, looking like she wanted to cry. "I wondered if I had said something wrong or they were too weirded out."

Zeno made an attempt to pacify her worries with the palms of his hands in a 'stop' sign.

"Zeno..." Kija started, frowning. "If we're here to visit your... I mean, does that mean Kaya is...?"

"Well, yeah? I said she was the special meeting we're here for? Who did you think she was?"

"L-Let's start again, and you're grounded for three more days now." Kaya sighed, her hands laced behind her back. "Hello, everyone. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name's Kaya and I'm Zeno's wife."

The confirmation of something they had already figured out didn't stop them all from gaping at her, flabbergasted, their pupils small from the revelation.

[flyforever]

Since I can’t write here is writing

But first a forward (feel free to skip)

Dedicated to the student body and alums of UChicago. I would specifically like to thank International House.

Here is a short account of how I lost my virginity at above a .1 hopefully below a .2, we’ll never know. I liked my nights to start with 6 shots of vodka after 1st quarter and yikes I won’t be here long will I (at this college, woo)

Sorry I spent your money on alcohol. I had no friends.

Here is to the nightmares I will be left with for the of my life. Second subconscious trauma after watching Resident Evil before the age of when I (broke?) my arm.

Here is to my Jim (grandpa) who screamed I would go to hell for suggesting support of LGBT persons, but he probably knew what was coming next.

And here is to myself who took way too long to emerge from the closet. I wish I could go back in time and slap you, you dumb bitch.

And here is a story that is entirely my own (obviously) because it was based on real life events. Let it be known that this work is satirical and in no way defames any individual persons.

And sorry Berta, your name was unfortunate. Didn’t mean to waste your time. I’m running from a minor psychological trauma, lol. Has a bit to do with your name if I’m being honest.

This is partially a Lolita story. Or a Lolita Effect story. Or an “I can’t believe I did that story”. “I can’t believe you did that”. I can’t believe… I can’t believe… Amanda I can’t stop crying. OMG we can’t believe you’re a lesbian!’

To avoid legal implications all of your words were spoken by “AN ENTITY”. You are now one. There is no individual. There is one young woman navigating the entity and she must not become you, yikes.

I’m sorry to three women and three kids and a number three school I was NOT prepared for at all.

I might as well have lost it to a… gosh your name is “too close for comfort”

Also I’ll post stories on 4/20 so I can justify why I write like I’m high as a kite. Go read the Kite Runner. Or don’t. don’t don’t don’t don’t God this hurts please stop

The End

TW

Sleep paralysis

What’s that?

Also dedicated to my least favorite incest joke.

You bastards.

 How We Met

    “I have a task for you”

‘shoot’

“We’ll fix it in the morning”

‘fix what in the morning’

“Everything, we’ll make everything all right in the morning”

‘for who’

“For them”

‘okay’

“Take this”

‘I don’t like this’

“You must like this, it is from us and you must like this”

‘but I don’t’

“But you must”

‘and who are you’

“We are the first authority”

‘and who would that be?’

“There will be more of us later”

‘more? I hear one’

“We will be joined later”

And much later

‘are there more of you yet’

“Yes. We are here”

‘but your voice is the same’

“We are one. Listen”

‘Then what?’

“Wait”

‘Listen and wait. I’ll listen and’

“Not like that. Wait slower”

‘but I’m already… for what’

“For nothing. There is nothing for you except me.”

‘Will you ever go away? Is there another you I could have instead?’

“I’m your fate. Everywhere. Anytime. I’ll encompass and…”

‘__’

   It’s Not Isolation if It’s at Home

Can I see My Mother?

And It Would Be Much Worse If Not at Home Am I Right?

Dad: How were the freak classes

‘__’: The feminist… (the lesbian) classes. I wish I had stayed home another summer. They’ll be gone. I’ll be gone. God time flies. I mean gosh. I mean nothing.

Dad: I’ll buy you a car.

‘__’: I was going to buy myself that car.

Dad: Now don’t see your mom.

‘__’: But I was going to buy that car for the sole purpose of visiting my mom.

Dad: Sit down and listen

‘__’: I need to work faster and I can’t get a B, I… I miss my friends (I cheated, I almost crashed the car, but you would know something about the first part and I’m convinced you plan to do the latter as well) WHY DON’T YOU DRIVE ME EVERYWHERE THEN I’M SURE THAT WOULD BE PLEASANT FOR BOTH OF US.

“Now that’s not your…”

‘Go away. I almost, and I almost, and a third time I think I almost. Nevermind. And I’m… regressing, regressing, I don’t have the time to count maybe I could miscount, In 8’s and 12’s and 3 times a week? Expensive, this is so much. God this is killing me… Will I ever be…’

“No”

   Introductions

“Him”

‘uhhh…’

“I said him”

‘And I said friends’

“looking a bit…”

‘DESPERATE!”

“Why don’t you fuck the professor for that grade?”

‘Why don’t I switch majors? Why can’t I go home? Home, home is the end. Goodnight amigos/amigas nada más el fin el fin donde están el fin my friend it is the weekend and I don’t want to fuck you.’

 We Know What You Are (who you are)

Do you yet

Yet

Het

Not quite

Te odio

Te odio

Y de nuevo

Por eternidad

Hasta el mundo desaparecera (with an accent)

 Well You’re Not the Voice I’ve been hearing

In my sleep

Sleeping there

In my sleep

Almost There

But First

A Prayer

  What Happened

‘I’m not your child go away’

“Let us”

‘biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii’

“Let me”

‘N-n-n-n-n-n-‘

“Let us”

‘Absolutely nnnnnn”

‘Could I wait this one out with you?’

“Doors locked”

‘I could, tomorrow amiga, just for you’

‘Wait, what was his name?’

And what was…

And what was

Mine?

As in who am I

Am I?

NO!

  To My One Friend

I Forgot you there (a first prose and the end, but nevermind)

I would, but I can’t bother myself to.

Is that still allowed?

You opportunist sluts.

   The End

This joke will age poorly, but don’t we all.

Salut

Those who know me will know

That’s why it’s weed day poetry

Or it was supposed to be so I’ll post it to help you all through this quarantine

But not poetry

That was disgusting

This perfume

This perfume

Makes me queasier than that bathroom

You know which one

We should all be ashamed of ourselves.

Bell, that rings a bell,

I’ll see you all in hell.

Unless this world right here is already there. (as many have said, now off to more nightmares when I rest my head)

woo

<3

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

It's time we all accept it: Netflix is a meme account now

When the people over at Netflix aren't obsessing over streaming, they're focused on something completely unrelated: meme-ing.

Over the past decade, Netflix has worked to step up its social media game, and in the process, wound up cultivating its present day online persona — a sassy, lighthearted, and extremely tuned-in meme account.

Netflix has gone from Bland Brand to Witty Social Media Acquaintance Who Cracks Jokes You Wish You Thought Of, and though it's utterly perplexing to some, the transformation seems to be a success.

SEE ALSO: Why 'The Princess Diaries' should be revived for streaming

The company, which was founded in 1997, didn't introduce streaming until 2007, and its main US Twitter account wasn't created until 2008.

In the early years, Netflix's Twitter was noticeably boring — geared more towards updating users with information on the latest releases and answering inquiries. But today, if you're following Netflix on social media your feeds will be sprinkled with a genuinely funny assortment of original and shared memes centered around your favorite shows, movies, and semi-disgraceful but extremely relatable binge-watches.

The journey to total meme takeover

The meme takeover happened gradually across Netflix's social platforms, but the company really began pushing the boundaries in 2015.

That's when Netflix started to step outside its comfort zone, moving away from solely posting show promotions and formal updates in favor of more personal content geared towards its users' interests.

It's not complicated. #facebookofficial

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Aug 12, 2015 at 9:46am PDT

By 2016, Netflix was taking more risks and regularly posting creative content that poked fun at its own features, played off of its users' binge-watching addictions, and highlighted specific shows like Jane the Virgin and House of Cards. It even began merging fictional, on-screen worlds with current real world happenings, like final exams or the 2016 election.

May or may not be on your exam.

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Dec 11, 2015 at 12:01pm PST

Honesty is the best policy, as long as you're speaking straight to camera. #FU16 #HouseofCards

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Mar 1, 2016 at 4:42pm PST

By the time 2017 rolled around, the service was ready to dive deep into the world of memes. It unleashed a sassy voice on Twitter and began adding text to photos like a pro. As a follower, it became clear that the social team was up on the latest trends and attempting to join in on the conversation. But that was just the beginning.

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on May 10, 2017 at 3:29pm PDT

Ummm yeah

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Oct 15, 2017 at 7:01pm PDT

Meme madness: Achieved

But now, in 2018, Netflix's social team has really perfected its knack for meme making.

They're good — in a way most brands just aren't — at finding ways to make people laugh while simultaneously highlighting their own products. 

In the past brand accounts like Olive Garden, Words With Friends, Coca-Cola, Jimmy John's, Jolly Rancher, and more have tried to hop on the internet trends train and failed miserably. When Keebler attempted to cultivate a fun internet presence it came off as confusing and a bit creepy, and when IHOP tried to get people onboard with a fresh rebrand to "IHOb," people around the world rolled their eyes.

We couldn't make this up! RT to share with your BAE. #NeverEndingPasta pic.twitter.com/bp4HhYt1Uz

— Olive Garden (@olivegarden) October 17, 2014

Here come dat boi. Sucks when brands take your meme. #KeepOnSucking pic.twitter.com/mQ1IjFnDdK

— JOLLY RANCHER (@Jolly_Rancher) May 6, 2016

But that's not to say all brands are bad online. Wendy's, Merriam-Webster, and Dictionary.com are some of the few that tackle smart snark well, but Netflix is likely able to shine so damn bright because the platform is currently so of-the-moment. 

Netflix is still relatively new, and remains a constant source of entertainment that people can only access if they're willing to pay for. Whereas brands like Wendy's have been around for years, so not as many people are paying attention to them on a daily basis.

That means the Netflix Twitter account can easily provide comedic commentary on hot topics of discussion like Leo crying in The Titanic or Phil Collins' emotional Tarzan soundtrack, and share a favorite movie plot in five words or laugh over Royal Wedding moments in real time with its users.

Here's just a small selection of the jokes Netflix Twitter's unleashed so far this year.

the two moods pic.twitter.com/ZkiZqWcOn5

— Netflix US (@netflix) July 16, 2018

Film Twitter: Christian Bale is unrecognizable when he transforms into his characters Me, an intellectual: Hilary Duff is unrecognizable when she transforms into Cinderella. pic.twitter.com/u48FD1R21M

— Netflix US (@netflix) July 18, 2018

NO RULES AGAINST BASKETBALL DOGhttps://t.co/NpgSIlh7Zt

— Netflix US (@netflix) July 31, 2018

looking forward to the weekend! pic.twitter.com/PtfPhIoP8F

— Netflix US (@netflix) June 22, 2018

pic.twitter.com/LqiE74LxTE

— Netflix US (@netflix) May 19, 2018

so no one told you life was gonna be this way? pic.twitter.com/9nZYXWqaaE

— Netflix US (@netflix) May 16, 2018

🤔 pic.twitter.com/JSnShiwD4q

— Netflix US (@netflix) May 10, 2018

Kevin McCallister ○ / く|)へ. / 〉 / ￣￣┗┓ ▯ 　 　 ┗┓ ヾ○ｼ ┗┓ ヘ/ 　 Marv 　 　 ┗┓ノ 　 　 　 　 　 ┗┓

— Netflix US (@netflix) April 25, 2018

In the midst of the "In My Feelings Challenge," Netflix Twitter even cut scenes from Pretty Woman to make it sound like Julia Roberts was belting out the Drake jam.

And when To All The Boys I've Loved Before was released and everyone with a pulse started crushing on Peter Kavinsky, Netflix Twitter changed its bio to let everyone know: "SAME."

THE OFFICIAL NETFLIX ACCOUNT’S BIO IS A MOOD pic.twitter.com/k1gecFCW80

— mari (@chbellamy) August 20, 2018

When it comes to Twitter, nothing is off limits — not even getting super meta and calling its meme-making out in actual memes. And the brand's Instagram game is just as strong.

Best time to get in on a meme as a brand 13. There 12. Is 11. No 10. Right 9. Moment 8. Because 7. Memes 6. Are 5. Ever 4. Changing 3. And 2. Fluid 1. Several days late

— Netflix US (@netflix) June 29, 2018

When everyone was obsessed with finding their spirit artwork through the Google Arts and Culture app, Netflix decided to get two Stranger Things favorites in on the action. When Twitter users were laughing over that woman who was stunned by simply being in Beyoncé's presence, Netflix turned it into a relatable meme for fans of The Good Place. And when people were respecting their own personal presidents, Netflix was showing some love for Parks and Rec's Ron Swanson, and so on, and so forth.

*cue synchronized dance sequence* #teotfw

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Jan 18, 2018 at 9:02am PST

I also spent the weekend not doing my laundry, so...

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Feb 19, 2018 at 7:44am PST

  It’s called a glo up

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Mar 16, 2018 at 11:08am PDT

at least i’m consistent

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Apr 12, 2018 at 4:59pm PDT

Netflix even went from publicly obsessing over Cole Sprouse, one of the stars of the popular show Riverdale — which isn't even an original series — to forming an inside joke with followers that the actor is the one who runs the social accounts. It's such an incredibly bizarre bit to keep up that you can't help but enjoy it. But with internet sensations coming and going can the good times keep rolling?

Wow looking forward to all your birthday wishes 🎂 (📸 by @jessicaandclark for @heromag)

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Aug 4, 2018 at 11:11am PDT

Dear @vanessamorgan thank you for capturing this really beautiful photo of me I mean Cole

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Jul 21, 2018 at 3:39pm PDT

Is this how reverse psychology works?

A post shared by Netflix US (@netflix) on Jul 13, 2018 at 7:42am PDT

Can Netflix keep up the meme momentum?

Netflix's contemporary meme tactic works so damn well because it doesn't just allow people to participate in online trends, it gives them yet another way to obsess over their favorite parts of pop culture.

If memes are good and streaming is good, then memes + streaming = GREAT. It's a pretty foolproof formula for success, and followers seem to appreciate the efforts.

Netflix on instagram is a meme account I tell ya pic.twitter.com/4QAFdEYP26

— Jam (@jamconcel) August 13, 2018

Why is the Netflix account actually a high brow meme account https://t.co/XAe945yqSz

— Gay Nature Boy 🌹 (@WakobJaters) May 20, 2018

things i wish i didn't hear in a bar: "the netflix twitter account actually posts some pretty good memes!"

— Pete Sos (@churrs27) May 11, 2018

But while there's been a fair share of love for Netflix: The Meme Account, there are definitely some people who think the streaming service's social channels have gone a bit off the rails. 

I’m pretty sure Netflix’s twitter account is run by an exhausted intern who lives for the memes at this point. https://t.co/aqFfuVpTbV

— Alex Verret (@Kalexandverret) January 4, 2018

so now that the netflix account is doing the political compass memes, can we retire them

— beema (@djbeema) February 20, 2018

Why are Netflix being a weird “meme” Instagram account https://t.co/p9qt4GqZ5B

— Scott (@Barxoe) April 9, 2018

In the haters' defense, sometimes when Netflix gets excited about something — like adding Princess Diaries to its streaming library, for example — the social team has a tendency to be a biiiiiiiit excessive. (Like four variations of the same meme in one day kind of excessive.)

Netflix, SHUT UP!

Image: screengrab/netflix

But provided the personalities behind Netflix's social channels can remain on the right side of the very fine line between peak hilarity and overkill, they should continue to remain one of the very few successful brand accounts.

In addition to social accounts for different locations that offer Netflix outside the U.S., and original series/movies, the streaming platform has a Facebook page for those looking for a bit less whimsy in their lives, and a bunch of other offshoot Twitter accounts (listed below) that all know their audiences and are rising in popularity.

@seewhatsnext: For all Netflix-related news updates.

@NXOnNetflix: Focused on the "super, sci-fi, the fantastic, and beyond."

@strongblacklead: An account led by a group of black executives at Netflix that's dedicated to discussing diverse shows, talent, and more.

@NetflixIsAJoke: The place for all things comedy.

@NetflixFilm: All about the movies.

Overall, Netflix appears to have found its social media niche and as long they keep delivering smart, creative content followers are likely to happily continue watching.

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WATCH: The internet didn't hold back roasting MoviePass

the office moment

[irenenorth]

New Post has been published on Irene North

New Post has been published on http://www.irenenorth.com/writings/2018/02/a-physical-manifestation-of-stress/

A physical manifestation of stress

Cinders rests in her respective spot watching over me while I sleep in comfort in my special snowflake blanket, courtesy of George Soros. /s

I am not doing well.

I wrote in a previous post detailing some things that were causing stress in my life. It was not an exhaustive list. My Friend Sandra knew I was having a bad time recently and, under the guise of coming to play with my cats, brought me a red velvet cake to cheer me up. And it worked for a while.

When I was eight (confirmed by mom today), I woke up one day to find pus had filled my right eye socket. My mother rushed me to the pediatrician’s office to find out what was wrong. The doctors and nurses carefully cleaned away the pus. When they reached my eye, the nurse had to peel open my eyelid. There was more pus caked on my eyeball. The process took nearly three hours.

After looking at my eye, I was sent home with some medicine. We were back at the doctor’s office the next day to repeat the process. I was sent to an ophthalmologist where I was diagnosed with the herpes simplex keratitis. It is an inflammation of the cornea, the clear dome that covers the front part of the eye. I have it on the inside and outside of my cornea.

The virus can never be eradicated from the body. It can go latent, but there will be sporadic outbreaks. It commonly only affects one eye and it can cause blindness. When I was diagnosed, I was told to prepare myself because it was likely I would be blind in my right eye by the time I was 20. Thankfully, that did not happened.

My Aunt Elaine made jokes about “How did you get that in your eye.” I didn’t understand the joke at the time, but it has always stuck with me. I have had to explain it to so many people because everyone only knows about genital herpes. Yes, they are related, but they are different.

Risk factors for reactivation include, sunlight, trauma, heat, stress, and menstruation. Let me tell you, that last one was no fun. Hitting puberty with this was terrible. I was sure every single person knew every single month for more than a year. Eventually, my body figured out menstruation was normal and I stopped having flare ups. However, I wore an eye patch over my eye for most of seventh grade due to the photophobia, or light sensitivity. It is not an irrational fear. Photophobia is an experience of discomfort or pain to the eyes due to light exposure or by presence of actual physical sensitivity of the eyes.

I wore sunglasses in school most of eighth grade because the fluorescent lights would trigger my eye. It was also a transition time from the eye patch to normal vision. We learned that one the hard way. I did not enjoy being the guinea pig in that experiment.

My PE teacher used to call me Joe Cool. I’m not sure she actually knew my name, but she never let the kids make fun of me, at least not when she was around.

Then, things calmed down. I went in for a checkup at the University of Nebraska Health Center my sophomore year in college. I was participating in a snowball fight in the dorms and I ran into a cement wall at full speed, knocking myself unconscious. I hit the wall just above my right eye, so my mom asked me to go get it checked out. None of the interns had seen this virus before, so I spent nearly two hours in the office while they took turns looking in my eye and asking questions.

While there is severe pain, blurred vision, tearing and redness in my eye each time this flares up, the extreme photophobia causes the most pain and has had long-lasting changes in how I see. I have spent most of my life with darkened glasses. It has only been in the last two to three years that I have worked to lighten the glasses a little bit to make me feel a bit more normal and not have to constantly answer why I have sunglasses on all the time.

Our townhouse in Poughkeepsie, New York.

I nearly lost my eye in 2005. Paul and I were living in Poughkeepsie, New York at the time. The pain started over the weekend. I thought it was from dust – I’m allergic to dust mites – after spending the weekend helping move stuff with my grandmother.

The photophobia hit while I was taking Paul to work. I tore off my glasses and covered my eye to try to keep out the light. But I drive a 5-speed, so I was constantly removing my hand. By the time I got home, I was seriously considering using a spoon to scoop out my eyeball.

I curled up on the couch in the fetal position. I covered my eye. And I began wailing. It was loud and uncontrollable, but I didn’t know how to stop the pain. My friend, Bas, was visiting from The Netherlands. He was still sleeping upstairs. My cries woke him up. He thought I had an argument with Paul, but quickly realized my wailing was the sound of pain.

“Do you know how to get to the hospital,” he asked. I nodded yes. He helped me to the car. The photophobia was so severe I was pulling my shirt over my face.

“Don’t look. Just tell me what street I need to turn on,” he said, as he reassuringly touched my shoulder.

He drove like a madman, as I would have, too, weaving in and out of the four lanes of traffic.

“Your car has a really short shift,” he commented. We discussed how my old Toyota SR-5 sports car didn’t have that. We decided that, since I now owned a Hyundai, it must be a Korean thing.

By the time we reached the hospital, Bas had calmed me down. The wails were gone, replaced by momentary whimpers whenever any kind of direct light beamed down upon me. Instead of sitting in the waiting room or the large open emergency room, the nurses led Bas and me to a room and turned off the lights.

A few minutes later, someone came in and put some drops in my eyes to numb the pain. The pain never did go away, but about 10 minutes later, I could open my eyes. The pain was bearable.

When I had first arrived, none of the machines could register my eye pressure. It should be under 21. Someone came in about 45 minutes later. They said the pressure was 78. A few minutes later, the doctor came in and left the door open just a crack. He conducted his examination by the light from the hallway coming through a five-inch crack.

It took 1.5 years, dozens of office visits, and 16 eye drops a day with varying medications to get my eye normal again.

During a flare-up, the photophobia feels worse than having a bright light pointed at my eye while thousands of pins are jabbed in my eye. Now imagine that every day for more than a year.

And I thought I was good again. I know severe stress can trigger the virus. I know I’ve been under a lot of stress the last five months. But I thought I had it under control.

My eye at 9:54 a.m., February 17, 2018.

On Thursday, February 15, 2018, I was experiencing some photophobia. There was searing pain whenever I went outside. I had to ignore it. There was the 50th anniversary of 911 two-part series I had to finish. There was also a big story I was assigned to cover for the Star-Herald. It took nearly six hours. By 4 p.m., I was exhausted. I thought I was just tired. I knew I was stressed. Since none of the other symptoms had appeared, I really hoped some rest would make it go away.

I woke up Friday to constant, searing pain. I know that feeling. When I walked into the bathroom to have a look, my eye was completely red. The blood vessels were enlarged and looked like crooked spiderwebs shooting out from the center of my eye. I’ve seen that before, too. I sighed deeply. I knew what was happening.

I called my optometrist and got in right away. Your eye pressure should be under 21. Mine was at 45. Not as high as in 2005. But I had forgotten how much this hurts.

Whenever a flare up occurs, it takes a while to set things right. I hope I fall within the “typically clears up in 10-14 days” scenario this time.

I have a followup appointment Monday afternoon. If things haven’t improved, I will have to see an ophthalmologist. I really hope I don’t have to go down that road.

I’m taking Istalol once a day for the high pressure, Zirgan ophthalmic gel, an antiviral drug five times a day to slow the growth of the virus and Acyclovir twice a day to slow the growth and spread the virus. Zirgan and Acyclovir are also used for genital herpes. No, I don’t enjoy having to go to the pharmacy to pick them up.

While trying to determine what times to take the Zirgan so it is spaced out evenly, my logical husband had just the answer.

“Think of it like the Muslims going to prayer,” he said. “Just look up what time they pray each day and put your drops in then.”

This website detects your location in the world and tells you when you should pray. That is, if I want to be that specific.

My editor asked if I needed to take a sabbatical from work or what else he could do to help me. I told him I didn’t think a sabbatical was necessary, but I will probably take frequent breaks from my computer desk and that he needs to know if I suddenly come up and say “I need a sick day tomorrow” that I need a day off, no questions asked.

Crumpets a la Paul, with little butter. Or so he says. No flash used because, hey did you not read the story about how the light hurts my eyes?

On Saturday morning, I woke up to the gentle sounds of Cinders’ purring. I don’t know if she stayed all night, but she was there when I opened my eyes. Paul made me tea and crumpets for breakfast. Since the only other British thing he can make is homemade chips, I wonder what will be for lunch.

Right now, I have a constant aching all over the right side of my head. Photophobia has always been the worst part of this for me and it causes great pain. This time is no different. My house will likely remain dark for at least the next 48 hours.

If you don’t see me online much in the near future, computer screens make the photophobia worse. If you see me tearing up, I’m probably not crying. My damned eye is leaking. I probably won’t be as happy either. I will be trying to ignore the pain while I work. I will try to avoid any bright places for a while. You’re not going to see me outside of work either. Right now, the best place for me is inside, away from anything bright.

Whenever there is a flare up, the race is on to minimize damage and prevent scarring. And I’m running a race that I never wanted to be in, but is necessary to win. It’s a battle I can’t afford to lose.

NOTE: Please excuse any typos in this post. I have written most of it without looking at the computer screen.