#...i hope there are no typos in these tags

[johnbly]

WIP game!

i was tagged by @tortoisesshells ✨

so i have two fics going one rn: 1) in the boat purgatory in at world's end, james comes across gov swann and the two have a final conversation together (not using that for this since i haven't done too much but something to look forward to i guess) and 2) bolt's "what if james had a dragon" fic and subsequent discussions and questions has me now doing a "what if hornblower had a dragon" fic so here is an excerpt from that:

“Who are you?”  The dragonet is speaking French, and internally Hornblower swears. Is French the only language the creature knows? It’s no issue for him, of course, but how can it be expected to be a British dragon if it only knows French? “Captain Horatio Hornblower, most recently of the HMS Sutherland,” he replies, also in French – awkwardly so, because it’s a ridiculously formal introduction to make to a dragon, but in light of never having conversed with one before he’s fallen back on the old habit of saying more than is necessary. “That is not a French name,” the dragon says. In English. “Non – no, it is not. You speak English, then?” “I do.” Pause. “That was a long introduction. I hope you don’t want me to use it whenever I want to call on you?” The idea of a dragon wanting to call on him at all is no less ridiculous than having a conversation with one, but it – he? The voice is deep – has a point. “You can call me 'Hornblower',” he says.

i don't remember who all is writing things that hasn't already been tagged, so if you see this and are a writer, feel free to share!

[theloveinc]

bakugo x reader - you have a fussy baby

(warnings: ooc, you have a baby and are called mama. no mention of pregnancy. written in bed)

-

There’s a part of Bakugo that always gets a little bit nervous when you call. A growing fear, one that’s not always the most reasonable, as he’s long since learned to stop guessing what it is he’ll have to answer to.

Usually, his worry is assuaged immediately by the chirp of your sweet voice, more often than not calling to ask about groceries, or the timing of his arrival home, or even just to say, “hey, sweetie. How are you?”

But as of late, with the stress of multiple new realities on his hands, the playing catchup of his returning back to work, it’s been—

“Katsuki,” your voice trembles on the receiver, the fuss of your hands practically audible too, “thank god. I’m so sorry, but—“

You whimper, there’s a wail, and his gut clenches, veins turning cold as ice with adrenaline like any and every other time he prepares, quicker than you know, to catch a villain.

“Fuck, babe?” his voice is raspy with the crack of worry, his eyes flitting about as if the crime is in front of him, the offender just across the line of the dark, moon-lit horizon. “Are you okay? Are you safe—“

You interrupt.

“I just can’t get him to sleep. I-I’ve tried everything,” there’s a hiccup from somewhere close by, the baby on your shoulder most likely, “but he’s not going down. I don’t know what to do anymore. He’s clean, he’s changed, he ate almost everything I had—“

“Hey,” he says sternly, dad-like, in a way you’ve almost never heard from him, and you halt. Bakugo looks around the empty streets he’s walking, the evening sky of a warm spring having now receded into chill. “I’ll be there quick, okay?”

And just as soon, he calls Kirishima to let him know he’s deviating from the patrol route.

-

Your son relaxes in his arms almost as soon as you set him down. Still in uniform, a sheen of sweat and dirt coating his body, he must smell like something comforting to the little babe as he stops crying just as fast, smacking his little lips into the sweaty shirt he now lays on.

You part from them, letting Bakugo take charge, the anxious tears stopped but still streaked down your cheeks, illuminated where you finally allow yourself to sit on the handsome blue armchair by the crib.

“Fussy shit,” Bakugo complains quietly, tearing one little snort of a giggle out of you as you gaze upon the two of them and wipe your nose, and at the same time, he gazes down at the baby with your eyes. “Wanted to make your mama cry, huh?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, sinking down into soft plush, “I’m so sorry I panicked, made you come all this way for nothing.”

“Stop apologizing, baby. ‘S not nothing,” he replies. “You needed help, and that’s what I’m here for. I’m”—he almost says fuckin’ Dynamight, pausing to look at you when he changes his mind—“dad. I’m dad.”

You smile weakly, and he approaches, dipping down on one knee to let you give your finally sleeping baby one last goodnight kiss, your fingers gently curling his blonde bangs away from his forehead.

“Just needed your daddy, I guess. Right, little boy?”

Bakugo can’t help but smirk, pulling back carefully to gently put the baby in his crib. He whines as he goes down, stretching his little limbs out now that the swaddle has been discarded… and though he notices the way your fingers tighten into themselves in worry as you watch, he settles back into sleep almost immediately, barely a pause in between to confirm it.

In the new silence, you finally whisper. “You gotta go back? To work?”

“I’ll get Denki over here in an hour,” Bakugo nods, also whispering; the sound that comes out unfamiliarly quiet, but not all that unpleasant as he steps and turns back to you, one hand reaching out to smooth down the hairs on your neck. “He’ll let you rest. You got it til then, or should I wait with you?”

You wave him off, still seeming tired but already calm enough to turn on the night light and pick up the book you started way back when, maybe even before becoming a mom. “I’ll be okay.”

“Don’t be afraid to ask for help again though, mama,” he leans down to give you your goodnight kiss before he finally has to go, reminding you of all the trust he has for you, too. “We’re all here to help.”

[shady-tavern]

Winter Star

Some children were born touched by nature, carrying the warmth of the sun, the brightness of spring and the gentle patience of the earth. They were rare, but everyone knew their stories and knew how wonderful they had been. 

They knew about the girl touched by summer, who had been taken by a fae woman, the Stag Queen. There was the boy of autumn, who the stars had lured away, never to be seen again and a handful of others, whose fates had been the same.

One day, a girl came into this world with hair as white as snow, lashes like frost and skin as pale as the moon she was born beneath. Everyone who laid eyes on the babe knew immediately she was one of those special ones, beautiful as flowers in the middle of winter and as elegant as drifting snowflakes on cold winds.

Her parents worked hard to keep her safe and raise her to be kind and clever, spending much of their hard earned coin to dress her well and see her educated, knowing a great future would await her. So long as no one took her. 

They warned her of the dangers of the world as she grew older, to mistrust strangers and duck out of sight should someone peer at their humble home. However, not even their best attempts to shield her from the world could stop the spreading rumors.

"She is as lovely as snow in the sun," the baker would tell anyone who'd visit his shop, proud of the special girl that grew up down the street of their cozy village.

"Do you know these wonderful early mornings where the light looks gold and pink and everything is so so beautiful it steals your breath away?" the cobbler would sigh dreamily to everyone who'd listen to her. "That's how it feels to look at her."

Soon people came to see the girl touched by winter, the one who was rumored to walk as though she was floating and she was said to possess such graceful manners it would make royalty turn green with envy.

People started to grace the steps of their home in growing numbers with gifts and sweet words carried on silver tongues. Hopeful fathers with curious and often infatuated sons, merchants who donned their finery in hopes of looking more enticing. The parents refused them all, citing that their daughter was still too young to chose.

It became a sort of contest amongst the curious and hopeful, to try and glimpse even a hair of the rumored maiden. Those who did manage to see her for just a moment left smiling dreamily and spreading ever more rumors.

The girl soon grew into a young woman and now her suitors were no longer just merchants and local business owners. Now she received letters and gifts from wealthy traders and even nobles.

One day, a messenger of the prince of their lands stood at their door, offering a chest of jewels and a richly embroidered dress deserving of a future queen. The young woman refused him gently and with kind words, as she had refused all other gifts.

Shortly afterwards, a holy knight asked for a moment of her time, offering his blessed castle to guard her from all evil and unbreakable vows of devotion. She gently and kindly refused him as well. 

He vowed to win her heart and return with better offers just as the prince did, who would not give up so easily, soon sending another messenger.

She refused their gifts of riches and protection anew with a kind word, while her parents debated. Her mother, ever worried about her safety and wanting the best possible future, grew fond of the idea that her daughter might become a princess. One day even a queen. This would certainly be a dream come true for any parent.

Her father, pious and ever concerned about the magical dangers of the world, was particularly fond of the holy knight. He was rather taken with the idea that his daughter might one day live in a place no evil could reach while also receiving enough money to be comfortable.

"The prince is said to be a handsome, well mannered young man," her mother said while they baked for the harvest festival, autumn coloring the landscape outside. Winter was approaching and whenever it did their daughter seemed to grow all the more beautiful for it. "He would be good to you."

"The knight is strong and well versed in the dangers of the world," her father countered that evening, as he whittled and she embroidered the hem of a new dress with fine, delicate stitches. "He would keep you safe."

Soon the gifts changed from material goods to whatever strange and magical things her suitors could find. They hadn't given up on her yet, on winning the Winter Bride, as they started to call her.

"This owl loses gems whenever it shakes its wings," the prince's messenger said with a proud flush to his cheeks, as though he was courting the young woman himself, not his prince. The owl was a gorgeous animal, as frost colored as the young woman herself, housed in a small cage made of pure gold.

"His Highness says you may keep it," the messenger held the cage out, nose and forehead bitten red from the cold that had settled over the land. "So you may think of him whenever you look at it and your heart may grow as fond as his has grown of you."

The young woman accepted the cage with soft words and the messenger left grinning from ear to ear. Her parents were delighted, chattering about such a special gift while their daughter took the owl out the kitchen door to the backyard.

While her parents were busy discussing the merits of her becoming a princess, she opened the door of the cage and carefully helped the owl out.

"That's better, isn't it," she said softly as she watched the owl fluff up and shake its body in relief, gems falling from between its feathered wings. It turned its head to watch her for a long moment and she held her arm a little higher, uncaring that the talons of the owl left bleeding scratches along her arm.

"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as light as fresh snow. "Be free."

The owl gave her a regal nod and took off, disappearing swiftly. The young woman smiled, her heart glad and she returned inside to find her parents dismayed. They couldn't stay angry for long, however, sighing after scolding her for wasting such a precious gift. 

Her father muttered afterwards that maybe the prince didn't know what a woman's heart truly wanted. Her mother, fiddling with the wool she was knitting socks out of, countered that he would find something to win their daughter's heart soon.

The holy knight arrived the next day with a cage woven out of brambles and he presented her with a snow-white fox with eyes of molten gold.

"This one will warn you of dangers and tell you if you are in the presence of evil minds," the knight offered, bowing deep as he held out the cage. "This is a mere gift, no strings attached. May it protect you in my absence and may you find you desire my presence instead one day."

The young woman took hold of the cage and as the knight left, her parents cheerfully discussed weaving a leash for the fox and where to keep it. Her father was nearly dancing with joy as he praised the knight for his thoughtfulness and what this in turn promised for their daughter's future.

The young woman smiled and left them to it, taking the fox out to the backyard. She ignored the way the brambles scratched up her hands as she unmade part of the cage and let the fox jump out, it's snout bloody from trying to bite its way to freedom.

"Go, if you wish," she told it with a smile as lovely as frost flowers. "Be free."

The fox bowed its head in gratitude and ran, swifter than any mere animal and it was soon gone with long strides that looked as though its body weighed no more than a feather. The young woman returned inside and once more her parents were quite upset at having lost such a precious gift.

They couldn't stay angry for long again however, and sighed. Her mother suggested the knight might need to choose his next gift more smartly, while her father grumbled that there must be something out in the world their daughter wanted.

"You must choose who to marry one day," her father told her gently, as though he could soften the order into a plea. "You must stay safe. I'm sure you'll chose well when the time comes."

He cast a significant look to the holy symbol over their hearth, while her mother nodded, tipping her head tellingly towards the small pouch holding the gems the owl had dropped.

The next day, after a night of the season's first snowfall, the young woman woke to find frost covering her windows entirely. It looked as though the snow had piled up all the way to the roof outside.

"I thank you," an ice wind whispered when she opened the windows to peer outside, a thick blanket of snow covering everything. "You returned my dearest friends to me after they were taken when I wasn't there. Two wishes I grant you for saving their lives, use them well."

She felt the magic settle over her as the wind finished blowing past and she couldn't help but peer out into the winter wonderland, as though she could catch a glimpse of whoever had spoken to her. It must have snowed very thickly that night to create that much snow, a quite unusual thing.

Seeing nothing and no one, she rubbed the frost off of the windows and went about her day, two wishes cradled close to her heart. They felt like a refreshing coolness within her, the way a bath in the river was revitalizing during hot summer days.

As winter settled over the land like a content cat in front of the fireplace, she received more gifts. A nightingale who sang so sweetly it made listeners cry, a white hare with fur so fine it was considered the softest in the world. She let each of them go and every time she opened a cage, she felt a change in the winds.

They grew colder each time that presence was back, the one she had felt during the first day of winter.

"Why do you not ask for anything?" the ice wind wondered one day after she unbridled a unicorn the holy knight had captured for her. It paused just long enough to press its velvet-soft nose against her cheek, thanking her silently, then it took off, trailing whispers of magic behind it. "Why not keep the wondrous ones you are offered so freely?"

"Would you like a cage?" she asked in return, watching in quiet awe as the unicorn disappeared. "Would you enjoy a leash or collar, to be bound to the whims and wills of those who hold you in their hands?"

"No," the wind answered in a solemn tone. "You are wise and kind, not many would do as you do."

Maybe, maybe not. She had no way of knowing, having never left the village. All she knew about the world were the things she had read in books she had managed to sneak away and what other people had told her. 

She had found, however, that people tended to paint the world dark and evil whenever she listened, to warn her of its many dangers. To ensure she would not set a single foot into the forest, to ensure she would not walk beyond the village border, to ensure she would not chat with strangers the villagers hadn't vetted. 

She still vividly remembered how panicked and worried her parents had been. How they had cried bitter tears when she had fallen asleep in their neighbor's hayloft, reading a book of fairy tales, and they hadn't been able to find her for hours. 

"Good wind," she spoke up. "Might I bother you to tell me about the world? You must have seen much of it."

"I have," the wind answered. "Is that your first wish?"

She was quiet for a long moment, then she smiled. "A true story, every night for a year. That is my wish."

"I will bring cold with me whenever I visit," the wind warned her. "For I am ice and snow, frost and blizzard. I am winter itself. Are you certain?"

The young woman turned to look back at her humble, warm home and thought of her mother's beloved flowers and her father's meticulously tended herb bed.

"Two true stories every night for as long as this winter lasts," she amended. "Will you accept my wish?"

"I accept," Winter answered solemnly. "Light a candle at your window, when it is the only light that still burns in your home, I will come."

The wind blew away and the young woman returned inside, her parents sighing, rueful and exasperated as they accepted the bridle with gold decorations and spun out of enchanted silver thread.

"Always giving away what would enrich your life," her father grumbled, rubbing his forehead as though getting a headache. "But it's alright, if this is not what you want, surely someone will find a gift soon."

"Our beautiful, strange girl," her mother murmured fond and wry all at once, kissing her on her brow. "Will one of them ever make you happy one day?"

"We'll find the right one," her father said reassuringly, pulling them both into a hug. He turned to look at his daughter, "And we'll make sure you never have to fear being taken."

That night the young woman lit a candle and waited. She had almost fallen asleep when the window slipped open a crack and she felt icy winds brush through the room, trailing a handful of snowflakes in its wake. Immediately the windows frosted over to pure white and any warmth was gone between one breath and the next.

"A wish is a wish," Winter said. "And here are your stories, as promised."

Winter first told her a story of lands beyond the mountains, of tall cliffs and hardy forests. It told her of raging oceans that froze solid whenever autumn passed and the reindeers that thundered across it to different lands. 

Winter was kind enough to answer any questions she had and she soon knew why the reindeers did what they did, how the ocean froze.

The second story was rather sad in her opinion, it was of two lovers who had run from an abusive father and a loveless marriage respectively. They had escaped into the night by the skin of their teeth and Winter told her of their journey through snow and ice. They lastly died, two miles from home, holding each other, smiles frozen unto their faces.

"Have many people died this way?" the young woman couldn't help but ask.

"Yes," Winter answered. "And many more will. The cold is no place for those who need warmth to live. Good night now, you who shines like a star, I shall see you again tomorrow."

She fell asleep to the soft whistle of air as Winter left, gently pulling the window closed behind it. Her dreams were filled with wondrous sceneries and people wandering through a snowy forest, away from their warm and yet unsafe homes.

The young woman soon looked forward to Winter's visits the most, eagerly going to sleep each night and secretly she hoped this winter might last just a little longer. The prince and holy knight, as well as many of her other more persistent suitors were quickly forgotten when confronted with stories of the world at large.

And finally she got to know what the world truly was. It was indeed dangerous, but it was also incredibly wonderful. Every story filled her with wonder and longing, chasing away the wariness her parents had painstakingly instilled within her.

The young woman felt as though she had forced herself to be a frozen lake all her life, still and quiet and unmoving, never leaving and never changing. Now, however, it felt as though the thrum of reindeer hooves had made the ice tremble and with each story she wanted more. 

With each story she felt her childhood dreams emerge, that deep seated adventurous spark she had smothered upon seeing her parents' tearstained, panicked faces. She had loved them too much to cause them grief and so she had made sure to be obedient and sweet at all times.

She also hadn't wanted to be taken away, to live a horrible life and to never see her parents again. She hadn't wanted to upset them and make them cry or discuss strategies to keep her safe until late at night.

But deep down, beneath the stillness she forced upon her soul, she had never quite stopped looking beyond what she knew. To peer towards the woods and wonder what laid there, to watch travelers and dream of the lands they must have seen.

"Thank you," she murmured as Winter left, sleep rising to claim her. "You're the only one who doesn't tell me everyone wants to hurt me."

Winter was silent, the window cracked still and she wasn't sure if she imagined it or not, but it almost sounded as though they said, "You can count on my aid for as long as I am here, should you need it."

She smiled and felt the furs she had started to take to bed being pulled up to her chin by what seemed to be hands. She was asleep the next moment, unable to open her eyes once more and check.

Winter soon had to move on, however and she mournfully said goodbye to her new friend.

"If you wish it, I can ask my friends to visit," Winter offered on the last day, only snowy slush remaining on the ground and water dripping off of trees. The only spot where there was still true cold was where the wind blew and she swore she could almost make out a shape as it moved. "They could tell you about things I have not seen."

"Then let this be my other wish," the young woman agreed, a glad smile brightening her face. "I would happily welcome the company."

"A wish spoken is a wish granted." She felt cold brush past her cheek, almost like a caress. "I will see you again soon," Winter promised. "If you wish."

"Oh, I very much wish so," she reassured them, reaching out to find invisible strands of wind weaving around her fingers, cold gently brushing her skin. "Will I ever see you in full?"

"Maybe one day." With those words Winter left, trailing the last bit of ice of the year in their wake.

And as promised, the young woman wasn't without company. Spring spoke to her through blooming flowers and invited her to playful dances in moonlight by luring her out the window, promising to look after her.

"There is no joy in never getting to laugh," Spring told her, a grin bright in that sweet, often mischievous voice. "Come, jump and let me catch you!"

Spring was bright and joyful and taught her much about the world. It told her of large meadows that bloomed so brightly one saw only color as far as the eye could see. It told her funny stories of silly animal antics and where it could find acorns and seeds buried in the ground to be raised up into new plants.

The knight and prince were still persistent, hoping to win her heart with more magical creatures and even a few enchanted items, which the young woman refused. She had no need for a necklace that made her sing like a siren nor for bracelets that teleported her to the knight's side in case of danger.

After spring came summer, full of warmth and sweetness. Summer winds encouraged the young woman to walk barefoot outside, to turn her face into the winds and smell all the scents that could be brought over. To dare and set foot into the forests to find the most wonderful berries to pick and to watch deer graze peacefully.

Her parents never knew, she made sure not to worry them, but with each day, with each thing she did, she felt her heart grow. And with it, her yearning for more. To see the places she had been told of, to hear the sound of the ocean and smell a valley of flowers.

The prince and knight started to grow impatient, wondering what it took to make her their bride. They became more insistent, their words losing their sweet tone bit by bit.

"You're not getting any younger my dear," the baker told her when she came to pick up bread, her pale dress making her look like a walking piece of winter in the middle of summer. "They're soon going to change their minds and then where will you be? Filled with regret. So take an old man's advice and be smart."

"Surely one has made you fall in love, either with them or their riches," the cobbler said as she passed by. "You should let them know and arrange a wedding. We're all looking forward to the festivities."

She had no idea how to tell them that she hadn't chosen any of her suitors, that none of them had won her heart. Not with coin and not with living beings caged and collared. How could she have kept a single one of them, or fallen in love for that matter, if she felt trapped herself?

A comfortable, pretty cage made by loving parents, the bars wrought out of worry and kindness, but a cage nonetheless. And they were seeking to put her in another one, bigger and prettier, but just as locked up tight. All in the name of safety. All so they could have the winter girl and not someone else.

The young woman wondered if such a thing must be necessary. If there was a way to live free without fear. Surely there must be one.

She asked Autumn, for Summer had left before she could put her feelings properly into words. Autumn was busy as a bee, zipping from place to place to ensure harvest would be done in time, talking so fast she sometimes couldn't quite follow entirely.

"Of course you can go wherever you want," Autumn said while rustling leaves artfully, only to change its mind a moment later and turn it into cheerful chaos. "There, that's better. Winter Star, you are indeed unusual, that is true, but that is nothing bad. You can always call on us if you find yourself in trouble you can't solve alone."

"Are you certain?" she hadn't expected such an offer. The seasons had come in response to Winter's wish, after all. Autumn laughed, the leaves rustling around them, some more falling off trees.

"We have grown fond of you, worry not. Winter might have been able to ask us to say hello, but nothing beyond that." The winds tucked bright red and orange and yellow leaves into her hair until they looked like a messy crown. "Live, Winter Star. Life is too short to spend it cowering."

The young woman couldn't help but look past the village and to the forest beyond, the riot of colors autumn had brought and how it had even coaxed some trees into making their leaves especially pretty.

"Where do I go?" she couldn't help but ask, suddenly overwhelmed with all the options that seemed to lay themselves at her feet.

"Anywhere," Autumn answered with excited cheer. "Whenever you pack your bag to leave, you'll find that you have more friends than you thought and you will always find more. Go on, try it."

She couldn't simply up and disappear, of course. Not when it would ruin her parents. However, the next time she received gifts from the prince and knight, an idea sparked.

Autumn laughed when she talked about her plan and gladly agreed to help. Soon, gifts of a secret admirer appeared, promising all the things her parents were looking for. A home warded against evil, enough coin to keep their daughter happy and clothed and fed to the end of her days.

It took some finagling to make gifts for herself, but soon the young woman was caught by the idea of what made her happy. She gifted herself books and hardy boots and a bracelet made of colorful river stones. Her parents were befuddled at first, but seeing as she finally seemed to fall in love with someone, they were relieved.

The entire village spoke about it now, wondering who this mysterious stranger was and if they would get to meet them soon. The young woman made a marriage offer to herself and laughed when she accepted it in front of her parents.

"They will pick you up, won't they?" her mother fretted as she helped her pack. "I can't believe my little girl is getting married. We'll meet them soon, won't we? And don't you forget to invite us to the wedding."

"I'll be sure to visit," she promised and later asked Autumn for advice. "I can't just grab my things and leave like any old traveler, after all."

"Leave it to me," Autumn answered, before breezing away, muttering about stubborn berry bushes who really ought to know better by now.

A few days later, a young adult knocked at their door, dressed in fine autumn colored garb. They wore dark green breaches, earth-brown boots, a dark red tunic and a cloak of bright yellow wool, embroidered with dozens of fallen leaves in multiple colors. They bowed, hair windswept and eyes honey brown.

"It is an honor to meet you, I've come to pick up the young lady in the name of my master," the person said in Autumn's voice and when they met her gaze, they offered a quick little wink. The young woman couldn't help but grin, swiftly hiding it behind her hand when her parents glanced over.

"Oh, that is so lovely," her mother gasped when peeking outside and the young woman stepped forward to look as well.

Outside stood a gleaming carriage in gold and red-brown colors and it was pulled by none other than a unicorn. The very unicorn she had once freed. It looked at her, no bridle on its head and she felt as though it was smiling as it dipped its head a little.

The bags were swiftly loaded onto the carriage and a tearstained and heartfelt goodbye later, the young woman left for the first time in her life.

As soon as they were away from the village, she managed to clamber up onto the driver's seat to hug Autumn tight.

Autumn laughed, ruffling her snowy hair. "Now, you best learn how to drive because I do not have the time to take you anywhere, I still have to wrangle some lazy mushrooms."

After a quick couple of lessons, Autumn left, disappearing in a flurry of leaves and rustling clothes to continue on as it always did.

The young woman's heart was racing as she traveled on and on. Autumn visited often and in brief bursts, but soon the air grew colder and colder. The young woman felt excitement rise within her at the thought of Winter's return.

And then, one day, she felt ice winds brush past her. "I see you have found your freedom. I am glad."

"Welcome back," she breathed, her breath fogging in front of her. "I missed you."

Coldness that felt like fingertips brushed her hair back. "And I you. I am glad to see you well."

The young woman happily told Winter all about her plans, while Winter guided her to a place she could stay as it was too cold to travel. A cottage, recently abandoned, but it was easily made ready again. The young woman sold the carriage in a nearby town and the unicorn left after nuzzling her cheek.

She made sure to write home to her parents, while she explored the world around her temporary home with Winter often at her side. Sometimes Winter's other friends showed up, the fox hopping around playfully and the owl watching kindly from its perch in the trees. Winter told her stories all without prompting and showed her the hidden beauty of their season.

"If you wish, travel north," Winter told her as they laid together in the snow, watching bright, bright stars above them at night. "I will be able to show you dancing lights in the sky."

"Yes," she said and slowly, carefully, inched her hand across the space between them, until she felt that special kind of cold breeze. The wind slowly settled and she swore, from the corner of her eyes as long as she did not glance over, she could glimpse Winter's shape once more.

It was the best winter she had ever had and when it became clear her dearest companion would move on soon, she promised to meet the season halfway.

"Go north," Winter reminded her once more. "If you wish, I will wait for you."

She reached out and closed her eyes and this time she felt proper hands close around hers, though they weren't as icy as the blowing winds. Still cool, but she felt soft skin and elegant hands, the brush of a fur lined sleeve. "I will be there, I promise."

"Soon, then," Winter whispered, a smile in their voice, and she felt the brush of cool lips and a cold breath upon her cheek, smiling wide. When she opened her eyes again, she watched ice winds blow away, looking joyful as they trailed snow in their wake.

The young woman set out as Winter left, buying herself a horse and using the rest of the money from the carriage to have her things put in storage until she sent for them.

She left on her very first adventure, Spring urging her on, showing her the meadow of flowers and guiding her way across the land to where ocean waves lapped against fine-sand shores.

She got to meet and speak with many different people and sometimes Spring and later Summer warned her away from certain folks. But mostly, people did her no harm nor wished harm upon her. If anything, many approached her, concerned about her safety and offering to help her get where she wanted to go. She always declined kindly and smiled.

The young woman got to truly experience the world, listening to new music, visiting theatres when she came by cities and towns and eating food she had never dreamed of could exist.

She headed north at last, cutting her time with Summer short and meeting Autumn sooner. And then, the air grew cold and she felt a familiar, very dear presence.

"Hello," she said with a wide, happy smile appearing on her face. "I came, as promised."

"Let me show you everything," Winter breathed and there was excitement in that beloved voice. They traveled onward together and if the young woman tipped her head the right way, she saw Winter beside her, riding on a horse of snow and wind.

Soon she got to see the ocean frozen, as it had been in the very first true story she had ever heard. She watched reindeer trot across in big herds, holding out her hand and smiling when Winter took it, her heart so warm the cold around her might as well have stopped existing.

"Why chose me?" Winter asked as they settled down on a snow covered hill to watch the sun set. It looked truly beautiful. "There were many who tried to win your heart."

"But none understood it," she answered and when she looked up, she saw Winter truly for the first time, not as a season, but as the spirit it was. 

Tall and slim, with hair as white as hers and eyes as dark as the frozen ocean. Ice earrings as blue as glaciers dangled from their ears and snowflakes were woven through their hair like the finest veil, ending in a crown of icicles. Clothes in white and light blue draped across their form, lined with fur and half covered in frost.

"Maybe I would have fallen in love with one of the others, had they not offered me another cage," she admitted, giving that cool hand in hers a gentle squeeze. "But instead of expensive gifts and captured magical beings, you gave me stories and shared your friends with me."

One of those slim hands rose to cup her cheek, feeling a little frosty but not stinging her with its coolness. "You shine so brightly, I would never think about forcing you to dim."

"Then you have your answer." She tipped her head into their hand, letting it cradle the side of her face. "I have an idea. Let's make this place our home, so I can be with you for many months."

"Yes," they answered, brushing a cold kiss against her forehead and she could feel them smile against her skin. "And the rest of the year you'll get to be the adventurer you always wanted to be, my star."

That did sound like the best future.

*.*.*

"They'll love you, I promise," the young woman said, giving Winter's hand a gentle squeeze. "They've been asking to meet you and when our wedding will be."

"They will know what I am the moment they see me," Winter sighed but followed her up the path to her parents' house. It was dark and thick snow covered everything.

"They will, but they will also see that you never took me they way they feared and that I am happy." She looked up at the love of her life, the one who loved her for who she was in return. "Trust me."

Winter softened and pulled to a stop in front of the door, cupping her cheek in one elegant hand and leaning down to brush the loveliest of kisses upon her lips. "Always, my star."

The young woman grinned, happy and bright, like ice in the sun and cheerful snowfall. Then she raised her hand and knocked.

*.*.*

If you want to read more stories and support me at the same time, please consider checking out my Patreon! Where I post monthly, exclusive short stories, which helps pay the bills and frees up more time for writing!

[littlestormofmess]

hello ! i know it's been more than a week since wad but i wanted to do a little something for: @danrifics (who started all this !!), @dnphobe @manchesterau @phan-tasia @less-amazing @phulge @hmfakeaccount and @oriharakaoru who bought tickets for 150 people (!!!!) to watch the show + the afterparty !!

as it was probably the case for everyone else that entered the giveaway, it wouldve been hard to buy a ticket myself, living on the other side of the world where the economy is very much fucked up kdhdk so thank you guys so much for this opportunity !! its also the first time i get to see one of these guys' live shows, well, live; and it was very exciting to get to experience it alongside so many people, i had lots of fun !!

anyways, all of you guys are more than welcome to request doodles in my asks/dms, if you so wish😌 could be dnp, could be anything ! (mostly) if not, *pushes this little guy toward you* there ya go. have a lovely day !! 🧡

[shibusawaz]

have you ever wanted to know who YOUR soulmate in bsd would be? even if you haven't, i think you should still take my quiz. nudge nudge.

31 questions and 28 results, enjoy :))

[demonslayedher]

I can't wait to see what Ufotable does with this panel:

[auroraknux]

I can already tell that their group dynamic is going to be very funny

[coleomegilla-maculata]

GOLBetty summoning Simon before he puts the crown on again:

(reference under cut)

[pepperpixel]

“Can't remember when we walked past the O.R. sign!

(sur-ger-y!)

Can't remember passing out with her hand in mine!

(my-my-mind!!!!)

I remember waking up with my mind repaired.

(A-OK! ^^)

I remember when I realized, she wasn't there...”

Amnesia was her name….. is. so. horrifically. sadly fitting for these two in literally every single line. And I’m gonna NEED ALL OF U GUYS TO GO LISTEN TO IT NOW OK… THIS ISNT A DRILL GO GO GO GO!!!

Anyway… uhh. the fact Betty “blessed” this guy to like. An eternally long lifespan w THIS FUCKED UP OF A MENTAL STATE IS SO SCREWED UP GHGH- Like poor Simon god damn…! u kno he’d rather just keep on not sorting out his baggage and trauma forever too cuz it’d be too complicated… too much… force him to admit things about himself and about BETTY that he really really doesn’t want to… better to just leave it all unexamined.. pack it all into lil boxes so he can just try to ignore it and pretend it doesn’t exist… HE GOTTA LIVE FOREVER W IT THO… *ME BANGING ON SIMONS DOOR AT 3 IN THE MORNING*: “SIMON U GOTTA ACCEPT URSELF!!!! LOVE URSELF!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE N ACCEPT EVEN THE “BAD” PARTS OF URSELF!!!! SIMON PLEASE!!!!! SIMON EVEN PPL WHO LOVE YOU AND WHO YOU LOVE CAN HURT YOU!!!! ACKNOWLEDGE IT!!! ACKNOWLEDGE THE HURT AND ACKNOWLEDGE UR FEELINGS!!!! AND URSELF!!!!! SIMON!!!!” anyway… gGHGH YEA, SRRY. SIMON PETRIKOVS MENTAL ILLNESSES MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IM GONNA EXPLODE. ANYWAY HAVE SOME ART. W a bunch of diff versions cuz I’m indecisive!

[dipplinduo]

Fun fact about me: April 18th is my birthday! :)

And part of what I wanted to do to celebrate this year was to give back. Introducing * ~ a dipplinshipping birthday oneshot ~ * :

Rating: T

Summary:

Today was Kieran's birthday, but it was the last thing that mattered to him. In fact, he vowed it would never matter to him again. Instead, he would focus on things that would keep him strong: his battling, his strategizing, and his crown as the Blueberry Champion. His sister and the Elite Four won't stop asking him random questions, though, and if anyone brings up Juliana any more than they already have since she arrived as an exchange student, he's seriously going to lose it. But...why can't he stop thinking about her? And why is everyone acting so suspicious?!

A bittersweet birthday celebration fic for anyone who's had complicated feelings about their birthday. <3

Take this as a thank you to all of those who have followed my work and/or my Tumblr blog. I wouldn't have imagined having the support of this wonderful community on my last birthday, and I can't even begin to describe how encouraged and inspired I have felt to write since finding you guys. I have never written this much for this long, consistently, and your constant feedback and comments seriously brighten my day more than Juliana brightens up Kieran, LOL. Hope you enjoy this! <333

(And yeah, this fic is the "event based idea" that this poll was about. I thought it was so funny that some of you thought it was gonna be some devastating angst LMAOOOO. That's for after TTPD releases, tysm for the bday gift Taylor.)

[tothefiniteyou]

looking at the time: oh yeah, it's dissection analysis o'clock.

i've talked about how i think leo's view on what it means to be a leader is very misconstrued, but i didn't really go into specifics like i wanted. so here i am, doing just that.

firstly, i'm going to make this generalized enough so that it's not about any particular iteration, though i might put in details that aren't a universal part to leo's character.

i once said that "leo believes the leader is always the one to make the right choices" and by that i mean, the leader has to. he tries to think over his words carefully (there was a post for 2003 pointing out that leo stumbles on his words quite a bit and i love this detail) because he's trying to mimic his idea of a hero. not only is he the one meant to make the decisive calls, but in an imprudent, childish way, i think his ego has also convinced him that the title of leader makes his opinion more valuable djsaklg. he's kind of a funny, bossy older sibling like that.

he's full to the brim with anxiety and worst-case scenarios because he knows real life is dangerous and he is the one in-charge. rise fics have done a lovely job of showcasing the fact that leo struggles to really seem them as a team unless it's convenient for him, but i'd argue all leos (save for a few) are like this. people need to listen to him, because of course the leader knows best! leaders and heroes are synonymous, always saving the day... (...it's why rise leo doesn't think he should be leader-)

i have a little headcanon about his perfectionism that isn't completely relevant to this conversation, but i want to include it regardless. i think some of his perfectionism comes from a place of guilt and just general worries. he doesn't mind training extra or things like that, but i'm not too sure he likes it either. overdoing it can make him feel more reassured, and training better means he can make sure missions go smoother. leaders are the captains, and a captain always goes down with his ship.

anyways, if leadership to him is like being in-charge and having to be a shield, who would he be his ideal image of that to mirror? barring his cartoon heroes, it would be his father. leo has always tried to be like the person he admires most. i don't fully know why, but that makes me Sad. most kids think of their fathers as their heroes, and for all of the turtles, well. he really is one.

being the older child (in most iterations), leo unconsciously places himself on a similar pedestal as his father, copying what he does because he wants to be just like him.

.... for 2003 and 2012, yes. mirage? idw? less so. i just wrote a whole fic on the city at war arc (love me, love my dog) for the original comics that helped inspire this post. constantly leo mentions "growing up" in that arc, following it up by thinking they shouldn't stick within everything their father has taught him. he's leaving his father's shadow - that's what it means to grow up to him.

his brothers will always come before his father, no matter how much he admires him. in 2012, i truly do think leo would try too hard to become a father to his brothers. not only for their sakes, but because he's always been there, copying his father. he's trying to make his father stay by becoming more like him. he won't have to search for him in the walls of their home if he feels like he's right beside him.

^ i love this train of thought for mirage as well because in city at war he's gradually realizing that he doesn't know what he would do without splinter to back up his choices. he's having to think for himself and it's making him think that maybe he isn't as much like his father as he had always tried to be.

no matter the iteration, leo growing up is always becoming his own version of a leader (staring so badly at idw leo). it's a bittersweet thing, but it was a thought that occurred to me after leo returned from training with the ancient one in 2003. splinter already taught him everything, so why wasn't it enough? when will he teach him how to properly protect everyone like he wants to.

splinter is a VERY flawed character in every single iteration, and i think one of the most innocently child-like characteristics of leo is the way he idolizes him.

THATS HIS PAPA (bawling)

there's definitely more i could add to this, but i like leaving some parts unexplored so that people are free to put in their own thoughts :)

[camels-pen]

some sun and moon coded boys for eclipse day (inspired by this)

bonus: crimes from beloved bib that i graciously illustrated

"do you think it makes a sproing sound?" - bib

[marihem]

Let me be the one to ask. How did you come up with this Queerplatonic Frans concept? What drew you into making this?

Aww thank you for asking such a delicious question, pal! Hope you're ready to listen to my 1 am rambles XD

Alright so, to be completely honest...I actually don't truly know how Romance works to execute it myself 😬

Haha yup, sadly, the concept of Romance and Romantic Attraction didn't naturally come to me my whole life and I had a hard time understanding them. (Skill issue, amiright?) So I learned about them through fiction. And even then, my understanding of Romance was a little bit different from what it's usually is (spoiler: it wasn't actually Romance, the word I needed was "Queerplatonic").

I've drawn ship arts before I started drawing Frans and let me tell you, almost all of them were 2 characters just standing next to each other, no hugs, no kisses. Maybe they'll look at each other with fondness. And I was like "hell yeah, I've achieved Romance 😌" pfft.

My 2020 Frans works were where my ship art skills got improved. But you can still see that they aren't explicitly romantic (like, the first time I drew a Frans forehead kiss was for a request). Whatever, I was drawing stuffs about my fav lil guys and I was happy... and yet a tiny part of me wasn't feeling it, like it felt...odd to call them romantic. All these shippy art and I still felt uncomfortable to draw something extremely Romantic. (...this kinda sounds similar to a comphet kind of situation, you get what I'm saying?)

2 years later, I learned about the term "queerplatonic" and just like that, everything made sense =o Now THAT'S the kind of relationship I've been thinking about all these years and it felt magical. Suddenly, with this new knowledge, drawing shippy art felt more comfortable for me, cozy even. Cuz now, the "romance" I'm making is like something a little special for me.

And then I thought "what if I...👀" I grabbed Frisk and Sans like figurines and used them to make my own little ideas of a queerplatonic relationship as they were the perfect materials to work with for me.

I've actually been busying myself with thinking up ideas for them a year before I revealed it to my mutuals, even long before I revealed it publicly 😅

Still, my Roommate Banter AU Frans is still classic romantic. I've only been making funny lil contents of them but I swear! They're secretly crushing on each other, there's romance underneath! I just suck at Romance 😭

So yeah, TL:DR, I don't completely understand romance so I did what I felt comfortable and did actually get the most, approach a ship with a queerplatonic lens.

Tho I'm still learning about Romance cuz there're other ships I'd love to draw shippy art for XD

Anyways, yeah thank you to anyone who read all of this and thank you dear anon for indulging me with your ask <3 Have a lovely day/night ^^

[colorful-horses]

Sorry about the drought of new art </3 I've spent the last month working exclusively on commissions, artfights, and a webcomic that I'm almost ready to publish, so I've haven't had much time to work on pony art.

The textpost-pocalypse this blog is going through will Probably be done soon, but thank you for the patience anyways!

[doryyaaa]

Hi 👋🏻 I really loved the hwoarang x baker reader (I'm another anon, btw) & I was wondering if I could request a part 2? Like maybe they get together after a few months and reader meets Baek later on?

hwoarang bakery meetcute pt 2 is here! 🍞❤️

(read pt 1 here)

As promised, Hwoarang shows up at your bakery’s doorstep the very next day, on the same sleepless hour when your shift is just about to begin. Though the sign firmly says Closed, he knows to let himself in. From the kitchen, you hear his sauntering steps across the shop floor.

“Hey.” Hwoarang leans against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and biceps in full view. “Excited to see me?” he asks with a devious little grin.

You smile back at him in a simple greeting, and pull a huge tray of bread pudding from the oven. “Good—you came at just the right time. I hope you’re hungry, ‘cos I might have baked too many portions.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hwoarang says, and goes to join you at the worktable. That’s when you notice him lugging a plastic bag filled with an array of bottled drinks—canned coffee, bottled tea, organic juice cartons and vitamin water.

“I didn’t know what you liked to drink,” he says, “so I got a whole bunch.”

You blink down at the bounty of drinks, then look back up to Hwoarang’s expectant gaze. He’d obviously been looking forward to this just as much as you have. You wonder if that initial excitement would fade over time, if he’d grow tired of eating bread, or if the novelty of an unusual bakery experience would gradually wear out.

Sure enough, though, Hwoarang returns the next day. And the next, and the next. He comes by at least five days a week for the whole month, then keeps coming back without fail. Rarely, he’d show up later in the morning, when the shop has opened officially and the work has fully occupied you. He’d buy some dinner rolls off the shelf like a regular customer, then quietly leave your favorite drink at a corner of your workstation. Another time, he’d be missing for the whole day only to show up five minutes before closing, squeaking past the door just to catch a glimpse of your face.

Three months into your little arrangement, you happen to pass by the bakery on your day off. Rain falls in a gentle shower, soaking the street. You find Hwoarang sitting hunched at the storefront, listless under the rain.

“Hwoarang?”

Looking closer, you spot the fresh bruise on his cheek, and the small cut by the corner of his lip. He has a mean glare to his face, like a stray that could bite at any time.

You kneel close in front of him, holding the umbrella over your heads. With your free hand, you slowly cup his cheek, tilting his head upwards to see better. His eyes close from your soft touch.

“It was a stupid fight. Wasn’t even worth shit. I still won though,” Hwoarang mutters hoarsely.

“I know you did. You’re strong.”

At that, he finally cracks a tiny smile. “Nothing fazes you at all, huh?”

“Nope,” you say, never missing a beat.

“Not even the scary delinquent who comes over to steal bread every day?”

“Hey, you pay up, don’t you?” Because the tip jar was always full to the brim ever since Hwoarang started coming by. You smooth out the front of his dobok, your fingers gliding over the sculpted muscle underneath.

“My house isn’t too far from here,” you say, hand over his beating heart. “How about you come over and get yourself cleaned up? It’d be terrible if you caught a cold in this rain.”

“Yeah.” Hwoarang puts his own large hand over yours, his eyes opening to you with a new intensity, hot and smoldering like a fire. “Yeah. That’d be nice.”

In another month, Hwoarang starts walking the short distance with you from home to the bakery. Under the dim streetlight, he pulls up the shutters to the store and carries the huge flour bags in for you. In the kitchen, he steals a kiss from you afterwards, pulling you in close by the waist and savoring the taste of your lips, while your hands slide up his nape, fingers in his hair, and his tongue presses into your mouth—

The shop bell rings as the front door swings open.

Hwoarang grumbles as he releases you. You instantly miss the heat of his embrace, but you’re not too disappointed. Today’s a special occasion, after all.

Today, you prepare fresh-baked pastries, sandwiches, and coffee for three people, instead of two.

“Hello there.” Baek Doo-san appears at the doorway, led by Hwoarang. “Thank you for the generous invite,” Baek says with a tip of his hat. “It’s good to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine,” you respond in kind. “Please, have a seat.”

Baek accepts gratefully, and you all sit around the worktable in the quiet hour, Hwoarang at your side, and Baek across from you. It is peaceful, for the most part, until Baek begins his teasing.

“So this is why you’ve been in such a good mood,” he says, coffee mug in hand. “I can’t believe someone could actually rein in that bad attitude of yours. I haven’t ever seen you this well-behaved in years!”

Hwoarang attempts to kick Baek under the table. Baek swiftly dodges with a chuckle.

“I’m a good boy, aren’t I?” Hwoarang turns to you, winking devilishly. You almost kiss him right then and there. You reach up to pick a crumb from his chin.

“So when’s the wedding?” Baek asks.

Hwoarang flushes and nearly chokes. You burst into laughter, combining forces with Baek to tease Hwoarang into oblivion. The lively energy fills the room, and Hwoarang ends up laughing along with you. Under the table, you feel his hand wrap around yours, fingers intertwined.

[my-maehem]