#I drafted most of this last week but only got around to finishing it today so I’m happy I got to do that :)

[king-crawler]

The scene where Ralph meets King Candy for the first time is one of the most interesting ones on a rewatch because you already know who King Candy is pretending Not to be. The way Ralph behaves is interesting too. (I’m studying these little 1kb game characters under a microscope)

Below the cut is a LONG scene/character analysis (~6min read?)

First off. King Candy’s mere Entrance in this scene already characterizes him a ton and he hasn’t even said anything yet. He speeds obnoxiously around Ralph in his little go-kart BLARING HIS HORN. This immediately gives off the impression of: Very in your face. Very full of himself. And Very Annoying About It. (sir.. your Turbo is showing)

BUT THE DIALOGUE. JUST THIS SINGLE INTERACTION:

(Ralph Face Reveal While Screaming)

“Milk my duds! it’s Wreck-it Ralph??”

“Yeah...? And who are you, the guy who makes the donuts?”

“Hoohoo, please- No! I’m King Candy!”

I love this interaction because King Candy INSTANTLY knows who Ralph is. And from Ralph’s perspective that’s… weird.

Ralph is probably a little confused. Given how he answers “yeah?” He doesn’t just straight up ask “How do you know who I am” because he’s currently being interrogated (Probably Not a Good Time) Also that recognition is something he rarely receives in the first place, so why from this guy…? So instead he asks: Well who are you supposed to be?

WELL FIRST OF ALL. HE KNOWS WHO RALPH IS BECAUSE TURBO’S GAME CABINET SAT NEXT TO HIS FOR YEARS. Which is why King Candy is so surprised - he’s probably seeing him for the first time in decades.

“Hoohoo, please- No! I’m King Candy!”

I also love how he nervously laughs at first before responding with “No!” In that particular way- simply laughing it off before being Rather Quick to reject Ralph’s proposal that he could possibly be someone else. Interesting .

But it’s the way he says “I’m King Candy!” That carries so much implication. His pose and smile, the perfect inflection in his voice- it’s theatrical, it’s like he’s rehearsed it. It’s almost like he’s trying to convince Ralph that he’s really who he says he is with the best performance possible. He’s been doing that for years and by this point he’s totally mastered it. Nobody suspects a thing. (For now……)

—————————— Skipping forward a little, Ralph explains that he got a medal from Hero's Duty.

"Your medal? (giggles) Bad guys don't win medals!"

"Well, this one did. I earned it over in... Hero's Duty"

"You game-jumped?? Ralph... You're not going Turbo, are you?"

"What? No no no no no..."

"Because i-if you think you can come in here- (laughs nervously) to MY kingdom, and take over MY GAME, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!"

THERE IS A LOT TO UNPACK HERE.

First off we'll focus on Ralph. The way he admits it... He knows it sounds bad. He breaks eye contact and hesitates before saying "Hero's Duty." Probably because he knows what King Candy is gonna retort with. But he still says "I earned it" not only because he doesn't want to incriminate himself, but because he believes it. He did earn it... right? And then Ralph tries to brush off the suggestion that he's going Turbo before being interrupted by King candy's rampant tantrum. (WHICH I WILL GET TO.)

At this point, Ralph is becoming less confident that he earned his medal because he's in denial about “going Turbo.” His confidence wavers here especially because he's in the presence of this apparent authority figure whose trying to guilt and incriminate him. (And this is a situation he's already all too familiar with- think of how Surge Protector always halts him when going into games just because he's a bad guy.)

But there's still one major thing keeping this denial intact: He wants to hold onto the fact he deserves his medal so bad. Others have hurt him for so long, he thinks getting that medal alone means he'll finally be respected, praised, and loved.

"Is it Turbo to want a friend? Or a medal? Or a piece of pie every once in a while? Is it Turbo to want more out of life?"

(I know that’s literally the Conflict of the Movie. BUT ITS WORTH MENTIONING OKAY I LOVE RALPH’S CHARACTER LEAVE ME ALONE)

I think the fact you can gather all this info just from the way he's portrayed during this SINGLE INTERACTION- its amazing. Amazing character writing is when when nearly every action a character does reinforces their motivations or personality and you're able to SEE IT!!

——————————

Now to focus on King Candy again… this FUCKER‼️

First off, him mentioning Turbo Isn’t even that suspicious at this point in the film… well… at first glance at least.

At first it seems like everyone knows who Turbo is. Ralph is questioned at Bad-Anon, Q*bert tells Felix and the nicelanders freak out- everyone who’s been around for a while knows who this guy is. But if you think about it… isn’t Sugar Rush a newer game? Not as new as Hero’s Duty, but it’s still a little odd that King Candy would know who Turbo is ON TOP of knowing Ralph. Just a little.

"You game-jumped?? Ralph... You're not going Turbo, are you?"

Ok but Seriously. That Part. The pure irony of King candy saying THAT a threat against Ralph in an attempt to incriminate him. The way he says it too... He breaks eye contact and glances to the floor like it’s something forbidden to even mention. His accompanied hand movements too (and King Candy speaks with his hands A Lot) they move like he’s describing a ghost story. He’s obviously trying to scare Ralph… trying to scare him into admitting something.

This is... a lot. Maybe even some level of self projecting...? Cuz MAN. that is too deep for me to even start getting into

But the fact that his OWN NAME (a SECRET IDENTITY MIND YOU) has become so infamous that now HE’S WEAPONIZING IT?!? IS INSANE??? Can you Imagine his thought process. Like how far gone into the deep end is he.

(SORRY FOR NOT USING MY OWN WORDS. BUT I JUST ADORE HOW @simpingforcys PUT IT HERE. …..)

THIS. this is so good. And the way King Candy eludes to “Turbo” as some kind of monster. Could that be offering him like. A Brief moment of catharsis. Or fuel some twisted sense of pride. What the FUCK is going on in this SICKO’S HEAD !!!!! I NEED TO KNOW!!!!

"Because i-if you think you can come in here- (laughs nervously) to MY kingdom, and take over MY GAME, YOU'VE GOT ANOTHER THING COMING!"

SECOND!!!!!! King Candy gets SO defensive SO FAST. That man jumps to conclusions IMMEDIATELY!!! He essentially throws a tantrum while stepping closer to Ralph, stumbling over his words and giggling nervously. The mere thought of there being ANY threat of someone else taking over "his game" riles him up SO BAD.

This is the same EXACT SAME TEMPER that made him storm into Roadblasters as Turbo years ago, because he saw Roadblasters as a direct threat to his own game's popularity - HIS popularity!!!! Because getting exposure- infamous or otherwise- is the ONLY thing that drives him. (Pun intended. Sorry.)

And the way he repeats “MY” kingdom “MY” game… mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine mine. Are you done with your tantrum old man.

——————————

Wow. Anyways I think that’s enough for now. And that was in response to only a minute of content. (Oh dear.)

[writersblockedx]

Favours for the Falling

Pairing - Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader Summary - Fred and Y/n couldn't be more different, yet the boy can't help but find himself falling for her. Warnings - None I don't think! Words - 1.8K

A/n - I’ve got so many things in my drafts that are just waiting to be proof read before I can post them, but here’s one I was able to get done today :)

Masterlist

No one understood it. And, certainly, no one could have predicted it. Y/n was the ever so sweet, the ever so quiet girl, the girl whom you'd struggle to notice in a crowd. Her head found itself constantly down, averting any attention she wished to dismiss. The idea of such was daunting, she liked the shadow, she liked how easily it was to blend into it: undisturbed and disregarded.

And then, all of a sudden, before the students of Hogwarts could bear witness, her walk in the shadow was accompanied by Fred Weasley. Fred Weasley the overt, tumultuous boy who had a space saved for Hogwart's most disruptive student - alongside his equally disruptive twin brother. He was loud and known, a player on the Quidditch team and a name that was infamous around the school.

Suddenly, Fred acted as the sun which casted out her comforting shadow. Suddenly, the hallways weren't so safe for her. Many eyes followed them across the corridors as they walked together, half of Y/n's heavy books secure in Fred's arms as they wandered to class, or the library, or back to the common room. It seemed that for two people whom differed to exponential degrees, they were inseparable.

It got even more confusing when they began getting spotted walking down said hallways, hands now interlocked, or someone would catch Fred pressing a kiss to her cheek before they left for class. Such whispers spread like wild fire through Hogwarts and, before they realised it, everyone was asking: how did it happen?

Truth was, it was almost accidental.

It was one late Thursday, Y/n was in the Libary, completely in a mind of her own when a red-headed boy wandered up to the table she was seated at. Her gaze drew to him, her eyes narrowed and she pulled her headphones from her ears as to greet him. "Sorry, we didn't realise anyone was in here..." It was then she scanned the room and realised it had emptied since she last looked up from her paper. "We're just setting up something." The boy, who she believed to be George, said as he gestured to behind him where Fred stood, conducting some prank she didn't understand.

Y/n was already packing her things away before George had finished speaking, "I didn't even realise-" She stopped herself and snapped her head back to the boy. "What time is it?"

George leaned on the balls of his feet as he hummed and checked his wristwatch, "Just past eleven."

"Shit." The girl muttered, subconsciously beginning to move that bit quicker to gather her items.

George chuckled at her sudden panic and wondered aloud, "You often come to the Libary at this time?"

Y/n settled in a smile as she flung her bag over her shoulder, "Only when I've got a Charms exam tomorrow." She informed, picking her lingering books from the table.

It was then that Fred's head dipped from around a bookcase, wandering towards his brother and the girl he had yet to know. "Exam?" He reiterated as his gaze scanned Y/n. "Wait you're in my charms, right?" Instant anxiety spread over his expression and once more, just to check, to be utterly certain, he asked, "Charms exam...tomorrow?"

The girl held in her laugh, but she wasn't all that surprised. She had her eyes open enough to know that Fred Weasley wasn't the most attentive during lessons. "Flitwick hasn't shut up about it all week." She reminded him, watching as ever so slowly, his excitement over the prank he and his brother were about to conjure fell and, in it's place, stress took over. Y/n flicked open one of her books and pulled out a couple of pages of notes, offering them to the red-head, "Here. It's not everything the test we'll cover, but it's the basics."

Fred hadn't expected such kindness, especially from a girl he barely knew. But he smiled and accepted it gratefully, "Thanks. Thanks a lot."

She glanced to George, nodding her head before she made her move. "I'll see you tomorrow." She said to Fred before turning her back and continuing to the exit.

Fred watched until she disappeared. His gaze glanced to the papers she had given him, filled with handwriting much neater than his own, and words he was sure he needed to learn. From the side of him, George shoved his shoulder and commented, "Idiot."

That night, not only had Fred and George set up their mischievous prank, but Fred had spent most of it revising from the materials Y/n had given him. And, surprisingly enough, a week later, the tests were handed back out and he'd passed. Well, only just, but a pass was a pass and he only had one person to thank.

As the bell rung for the ending of that charms lesson, he made sure to catch Y/n before she slipped into her next one. "Y/n!" He called from down the crowded hallways. Luckily, with his loud voice and his tall posture, Fred Weasley wasn't hard to miss. "Y/n!"

The girl stopped in her tracks, brows furrowed with her books knitted to her chest. She turned and found that the Weasley boy was rushing towards her, a great big grin spread over his lips. Before she knew it, Fred had scooped her feet right off the floor and was spinning her around in his glee, repeating, "Thank you, thank you." Several times before placing her feet back to the floor once again.

A smile emerged at her own lips - certainly not as wide as Fred's, but it was noticeable. "Good grade?" She questioned.

He nodded, "Passing grade!" the boy beamed before rummaging through his bags and pulling out the papers she had lent him that day, "Wouldn't have been able to do it without this- without you."

She shrugged as the two started to wander down the hallway together; side by side. "Don't mention it."

"Don't mention it?" He reiterated as if her words were a mockery. "Y/n, those pieces of paper may have just saved me from McGonagall's wrath. Have you ever been on the receiving end of her anger?" Y/n shook her head as she listened to him go on. "Trust me, you don't want to be."

"You know, if I were you, I might start noting down when my exams are." She then suggested with a cheeky glint in her eyes that Fred couldn't ignore.

"We'll see." He definitely wasn't going to start doing that, but, for her, he lied. "I should do something for you, to repay you." He proposed.

Instantly, Y/n was shaking her head and declined before he even offered anything. "No, no, that's alright. I barely did anything."

To which, Fred caught her gaze and suddenly, it seemed more serious. "You've got no idea what you've just saved me from." He told her and she didn't have the words to respond. "Just let me think about it and I'll come up with something." He flashed his familiar grin, increasing his pace before Y/n had a chance to decline again.

Fred took the week to think on it. In fact, the boy soon started agonizing over it. He knew he had to repay the girl in some way - he wanted to, truly. But he was completely stuck. Every idea that passed through his mind, even the ones he had voiced to George, didn't seem to ever be good enough.

There came one night when the riddle was keeping him up. He'd just suggested to his brother getting the girl something sweet but he'd ruled that out only moments later. The other Weasley twin sat up and glanced over at his brother, "Why do you care so much about this-" He stopped himself and decided to rephrase the question:

"Why do you care so much about her?"

Fred halted and suddenly, that question dawned on him. In that moment, he shrugged in response to George's question. "I don't know. I just- She was kind and- I don't know."

George chuckled from his bed, "And she's pretty?" He raised his brow in a devilish way, prompting Fred's eyes to roll.

"I owe her." He finally decided on.

Truth was, Fred had no idea why he was so tangled by such a simple thing. He was returning a favour. He'd had to do it a million times before with the things he and George needed for their various tricks and pranks. But, for some reason, because it was her, it had him stumped. And maybe George was right, maybe Fred had taken note of her pretty eyes, or her pretty hair or-

The boy was falling and he had only just come to realise it.

He was lucky in that, by the end of the week, he'd sufficiently found what he was going to give Y/n. And, as the last bell for the week was sounded, he waited by her common room until she showed.

"What are you doing here?" Came Y/n's soft tone as she wandered towards the enterance.

Fred turned, his lips smothered by a grin, "Hey, this is me repaying you." He raised his hand and the book that was grasped between them.

Y/n took a few steps closer as to take the book from him. Her fingers brushed the front cover and it's title, shaking her head in disbelief before glancing back up at Fred. "I hate to say this, but I may already have read and own a copy myself." She had a sheepish glint in her eyes as she stared at the boy, "But thank you."

"Shit, sorry, I should have asked." Fred backtracked.

The girl gently pushed his arm in a playful manner, "No, you shouldn't have gone out of your way to get me anything." She told him, but doubted that would have ever stopped him from doing such. "I'm sure anyone else would have done the same thing I did."

He shrugged, "I'm not so sure." He was genuine in that and it tugged at the girl's heartstrings. Fred paused and he found himself captured by Y/n's doe eyes. Before he knew it, words were slipping from his tongue which he couldn't stop. "Why don't we get a butter beer? On me!" He flashed a smile that Y/n couldn't dare to let down.

So her head nodded and she agreed, "If you feel so obliged."

Like that, they changed from their uniforms and wandered down to Hogsmeade. And it was the same next week, and the week after. Suddenly, Fred was sneaking into her dorm, sitting next to her during meal times and finding himself in too deep. But the same was for Y/n.

[hazybisou]

ONE CHANCE

fic

reader x mark estapa

summary: for weeks, mark has been trying to get y/n to go out with him but he always got a ‘no’. that all changes one night when she admits she’s developed feelings for him after a game.

a/n: literally i got like four drafts rn so have patience with your girl here

you had been sitting in the same spot for 43 minutes and 32 seconds but who’s counting? obviously, you were. as much as you enjoyed your intro to business course, you were tired and were just yearning to go to your apartment. the idea of lying in bed and doing nothing but binge-watch “New Girl” and cuddling up into your blanket was sounding very, very tempting to you. god wasn’t on your side today.

you finished up taking the final bit of notes you needed before you closed your notebook with a sigh of relief. there was approximately 12 minutes left of class and then you’d be free. to kill time you had begun to scroll through instagram.

at the beginning of the year, your professor had gone over the rules and expectations. one of them included how if you were to finish early, for the reminder of class you could just hang out till you were dismissed as long as you wouldn’t distract your peers.

eventually you got tired of instagram which is when you switched to doodling on the back of your notebook. it was quite relaxing actually. to be able to do whatever you pleased. in between classes, you has always loved going into the courtyard and sitting under a tree, whether it be listening to music or drawing, you had found that time to be peaceful. just like now.

in the midst of sketching a rose, you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned your head and were met with four grinning faces: johnny druskinis, luca fantilli, luke hughes, and mark estapa. they were known around campus for playing for umich’s mens ice hockey team. to many, they were considered to be royalty, but to you? they were just a bunch of childish men who thought way too much of themselves. so what could they want with you?

“can i help you?” you asked, clearly annoyed with the situation already. the boys all looked at each other before they all spoke in unison, “yes.”

“okay…what is it that you need?”

mark was the first to speak, “for you to go out with me.”

silence.

you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. why the hell would some guy you barely talked to ever would want to go out with you? it made no sense. the most you’ve ever spoken to him was during your first semester and it was only to ask if you could borrow a pencil. even then, he wasn’t this weird.

“you’re kidding, right?” you really hoped they were. you hoped that this was all some sick joke.

he just shook his head, “no, i’m not.”

you squinted you eyes at him before slowly turning around and getting back to you drawing.

the fours boys looked at each other once again before one of them asked, “sooo is that a yes?” it was luke.

you turned your upper body toward them. “why are you asking me to go on a date with you if we’ve barely ever talked?” it's a valid question. no one goes up to a girl they’ve never had an interaction with before and just blatantly asks them out. unless you’re a cocky son of a bitch but other than that it has never happened.

“well first of all, i think you’re a nice person and second of all, you’re cute. ” mark stated.

you just stared at him for a good minute before turning around again. you tried to convince yourself that, that last comment he made hadn’t made you blush, but you could feel your cheeks get hot. “no.”

mark’s eyebrows furrowed before he turned to his teammates, “what do i do now? she said no.” you were still able to hear them but blocked them out as you continued to sketch the petals of the rose.

“man i don’t know! i’ve never had a girl reject me before, what do you want me to tell you?!” luca whispered-shouted and mark just rolled his eyes before turning back to you.

he had leaned forward and was right at your ear. “oh cmon, i’m not that bad of a person.”

you put your pencil down and just stared ahead before answering. “my answer’s still no,” you turned your head and that’s when you realized how close you were. you couldn’t help but feel the heat creep up to your cheeks.

mark had noticed as he had a small smile plastered on his face. “please?” he begged like a little kid when they wanted something.

“you just won’t give up will you?” you knew he would keep pestering you about it until you’d yes but that’s not like you. you weren’t going to go out with some random guy you just met and expect it to go good. you wanna go out with someone who you know and have had moments with. and mark hadn’t checked either of those boxes.

“nope.”

you just smiled before turning around. your professor had dismissed the class and you quickly picked up before walking out of there and heading to you apartment, wanting to forget about what had just happened.

he was cute but that’s all you had to say about him.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was finals week and you had a huge exam coming up. every chance you got, you’d be going over your notes, reading your textbook, highlighting and writing more notes down. it was a pain in the ass. which is why currently, you were sitting at a table booth in the far corner at some cafe near campus.

you had your headphones on, listening to your playlist you had created for occasions like this. you were singing the lyrics to yourself, not wanting to make so much noise as you were in public and it’d be embarrassing if someone had heard you sing. you were in the middle of highlighting a paragraph when you felt the cushion dip, signaling someone had sat next to you.

you grab your headphones and wrapped them around your neck as you turned to face the perosn who had decided to sit next to you.

it was mark.

you had no idea why you were even surprised. for the past month, he had been trying to get you to go on a date with him. always sitting near you in class, passing you notes as if you were in high school again and sometimes, he would even leave a flower bouquet on your doorstep with a little note. it always said something along the lines of, ‘beautiful flowers for a beautiful girl -mark’ and if you were to be honest, it made you feel something inside.

you tilted your head a bit as you looked at him in confusion. “what are you doing estapa?” you already knew the answer to your question. normally, you’d want the conversation between the two of you to end the second he’d start talking to you but today you felt like talking to him like you would with anyone else.

“sitting down to talk to you,” he answered before scooting closer and leaning forward to look at why you had been doing. he just raised an eyebrow before he leaned back to look at you. “finals?”

“yeah, it’s been a pain in my ass recently and if i don’t pass this upcoming test, my life is practically over” you remarked as you gestured to your stuff laid out over the table. “it’s just been a stressful week and i’ve barely has time to do anything but study.”

mark only smiled. “i know something that can relieve the stress.” mark noticed how you perked up at the statement.

“oh, please! literally anything would help all my worries go away.”

“tomorrow night, go out with me.” mark inquired. you should’ve seen it coming. at this point all conversations with mark had ended in him asking you out and you giving him the answer, ‘no’.

you sighed as you put your head in your hands. “mark,” you stopped yourself before you could go any further.

mark had turned his body towards you, “oh cmon y/n. just one chance, i’ll make it worth your while.”

“i can’t. i have to study and you should be doing the same.” you said as you picked up your highlighter again and began to resume your reading.

mark rolled his eyes at the mention of studying. “all you do is study. you know you’re allowed to go out at times, right?”

you ignored his comments and spoke up, “my answer’s no.”

“i won’t stop until you say yes.”

“then i guess you’ll be trying for a while.” you shot him a fake smile before returning to your reading.

he only shrugged, “that’s fine by me,” and with that he slid out of the booth and headed out.

what is it with this boy and insisting on taking you out? surely it was all a joke, a bet even, between his friends if he could get you to agree to go on a date with him or not. it had to be a joke.

━━━━━━━━━━

it was friday night meaning you had finished all your exams and were happily laying in bed, wanting to relax. you had ‘New Girl’ on and you were enjoying every second of it until your roommate aka your best friend, natalie, had barged into your room. you were pretty sure the door knob had left a hole in the wall.

“get up hoe, we have places to be.” she exclaimed as she began to raid your closet.

you sat up as you stared at her like she were a mad man. “what do you mean, ‘we have places to be’” you began thinking, trying to remember if you had something important to attend to. “did i forget about us having plans or something because i don’t-”

“no, we didn’t have plans but now we do. so get your ass out of bed and start getting ready.” she ushered you into the bathroom and she handed you a pair of light washed jeans, a white tank top and a maize zip up with a michigan beanie. now you were really confused.

natalie had taken out your makeup bag and began to take out your mascara, lip gloss, blush and many other things you didn’t even know you had. you grabbed her hands making her turn towards you. “where are we going?”

“to a hockey game.”

she can’t be serious.

“you can’t be serious.” she only smiled and shrugged before going out of your bathroom and into the living room.

“i’ll be waiting for you and you only have thirty minutes!” she shouted as she made her way to the couch. this bitch is crazy.

you had put on the outfit and began to do your makeup. you hair was already done from when you did it in the morning before your 8:00 am lecture. somehow it had stayed in tact, only a few baby hairs were sticking out but nothing you couldn’t fix with hair gel.

you finished up your makeup and started to put everything in the bag but you left it be as natalie had shouted you only have two minutes. it’d be cleaned up eventually.

you walked out of the bathroom and headed toward the living room where natalie was waiting for you. “can we go now?” natalie looked up form her phone and a grin spread across her face. she nodded her head and you both headed out the door.

on the walk to yost, you both had met up with some of the player’s girlfriends. you and natalie were friends with them and you all hanged out even if you have never been the biggest fan of the men’s hockey team.

a couple minutes later, you had all arrived to the arena and went inside before showing your tickets and heading towards the rink. you followed behind as you watched the boys warm up. you had thought you were to get seats up high where you could barely see the puck, but to your luck, you had front row seats to the game.

you all had began to talk when molly, adam fantilli’s girlfriend, spoke, “so y/n how’s your relationship going with mark?” all the girls turned towards you, some confused while others just had a smirk on their face. what relationship? you guys were just friends. well if you could call it that.

“our relationship?” you questioned. you weren’t even in one. although sometimes you wish you were. over the course of mark’s attempts to ask you out, you couldn’t help but develop some feeling for him. with the flower bouquets on your doorstep, the small conversations you’ve had with him, to him trying to sit near you in class, always staring at you, it made you feel things you’ve never felt before.

molly furrowed her eyebrows, “you’re not together?” you could only skate you head no, “that’s weird. adam keeps telling me about how mark wont shut up about you and how he can’t wait for you to go on a date with him soon.”

“i never agreed to go on a date with him.” you replied to her statement. had he been making up lies? “if anything, i keep telling him no whenever he asks me.”

“why?!”

“you should say yes!”

“he’s in love with you, you know.”

“you guys would be cute together.”

you just looked at all of them and playfully rolled your eyes. “i don’t know.”

“he’s always sending her flowers almost every day. we’re running out of vases to put them in.” natalie explained and they all started squealing, asking you about the whole situation.

you were too busy explaining the whole story from when mark first asked you in class till now that you hadn’t noticed a certain player staring at you from the ice.

mark couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you being here at his game. he was too busy staring that he hadn’t noticed that ethan and mackie had skated over to him when they noticed their friend had been in the same spot for a while. the pair followed his gaze and both smirked at each other when they realized who mark had been looking at the whole time.

ethan put a hand on his shoulder, “dude, you are whipped.” that seemed to snap mark out of his trance.

“what?” mark‘s face had turned a deep shade at red as he had been caught staring at you.

“are two dating or what?”

mark looked at mackie, “where’d you get that from?” he asked.

���for the last month, she’s all you ever talk about. kinda just assumed she was your girl.” mackie shrugged as he skated side to side.

“no way is that ever happening. i’ve asked her out more times than i can count and the answers always been no,” mark said as he moved to stand in front of the two, “i’ve given up hope at this point.”

“might as well try one more time.” ethan suggested as he looked over mark’s shoulder. “i mean she’s looking at you right now,” he pointed over to where you and all the girls were seated. mark turned around and you quickly looked back as you had been caught. “they’re giggling. and are back to looking at you.”

mark could only give him a look. “so what? that’s what they do.”

ethan and mackie looked at each other before they bursted out laughing. “what’s so funny now?”

“god you really are stupid.” ethan told mark who playfully pushed ethan. “she’s in love with you too.”

mark scoffed. “and how would you know?”

“because i heard her talking about you to her friends. she said how at first she was a little annoyed with you because she’d be in class and you would sit either in front or behind her just to ask her out. and then you started to send her flowers with a little note attached and you’d pass her notes in class telling her she looked pretty and how you loved her personality and shit and wow you’re in deep man.” ethan explained and mark got annoyed before gesturing for him to continue, “she couldn’t help but feel something inside. she started to develop feelings for you and now that she looks back at it, she wished she would have said yes to when you asked her if she’d go out with you-”

ethan couldn’t finish what he was saying as frank had called them over. mackie and ethan skated over to the bench, mark not too far behind.

throughout the whole game, mark kept thinking about you and what ethan had said. did you love him? had you said no all those times to avoid your feelings for him? many thoughts ran through his head. he had to ask you. just one more time and hopefully this time you’d admit your feelings to him instead of avoiding them.

━━━━━━━━━━

the boys had won and you were all waiting outside the locker room for the boys to come out. the group was talking about going out next weekend but you zoned out. the whole night you couldn’t help but think, ‘maybe telling mark no was a bad idea’ and you knew it was. when he came out of the locker room, you would tell him how you felt, no hesitation.

about ten minutes later, you could hear the boys all shouting and clapping. you all winced at the noise but soon it stopped and the boys had started to file out of the room, some saying hi while others just smirked as they passed by you. the boys went over to their girlfriends while you stood to the side, letting them have their moment when all of a sudden you heard you name being called.

you turned around and were meet with mark and the sophomores behind him. you were confused, majorly confused. “hi?”

“i’m only going to ask once. y/n will you please go on a date with me?” mark pleaded.

that was unexpected.

you stood there, frozen. you didn’t know what to say. well you did but with everyone around you just froze. mark waved a hand in front of you face. “y/n?”

“huh, what?”

he couldn’t help but smile, “will you go on a date with me?” you did the fist thing that came to mind, you went up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. you leaned back and could see the blush on his face. “is that a yes or?”

“it’s a yes.”

everyone that was still there cheered and mark couldn’t help but wrap his arms around you as everyone had practically pounced on you both, celebrating mark’s success of you saying yes to a date.

“you know i like you right?” you broke the hug as you stared up at him. you nodded in response.

“i do mark. and it’s ok because i happen to like you as well.”

“i know.”

what did he mean he knew?

“what do you mean, ‘i know’?” you wondered as you pulled back.

“ethan told me earlier.” that little bitch.

you hid your head in his chest. “i’m gonna kill him.” you felt mark laugh.

“don’t be embarrassed. it’s okay. i mean i’ve loved you since i saw first saw you in class but was too much of a pussy to even talk to you so i just kept my distance. which is probably why you’ve always said no to all those times i asked.” mark said as you two began to walk out of yost behind everyone else.

“woah buddy, how about we keep the ‘i love you’s’ away until after that date.” you both chuckled. “i love you too. i have ever since you started sending over those flowers. and those notes you’d give me in class always made my day better. especially when i was having a shitty day which happened to be very often.” you both walked behind everyone. “i didn’t realize until a month later and now i wished i would’ve said yes sooner. it would’ve saved me all this trouble of denying my feelings for you when clearly i had loved you ever since you started to do all these things just to get me to say yes, which by way worked.” you smiled and he did too.

“i can tell. otherwise i wouldn’t do this.” he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. your hands found his cheeks and his found your waist. you didn’t waste a second to respond. the kiss was slow but passionate. it was all you ever wanted. you pulled away and looked up at him. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you leaned up and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before you heard mackie call out, “hey lovebirds, let’s go! we’re going to the bar to celebrate this win!”

you and mark laughed as he stared down at you. “this doesn’t count as our first official date, right?” he asked as you two caught up with everyone.

you shook your head, “no, not unless you want it to be.”

“good.”

the way i honestly got a little carried away with this and it somehow still turned out like shit. it’s fine. the last part was booty as i had gotten tired but at least it’s done. this took me two days to write and i promise all of my other fics won’t be this long.

[study-coffee-chicago]

Halstead Headcanons Pt. 5

A/N: I wanted to write a Halstead Thanksgiving imagine and I also had a headcanon where Halstead sister chokes sitting in my drafts. Since they're both pretty short, I decided to combine them into another installment of Halstead Headcanons.

Enjoy!

Thanksgiving:

You anxiously looked at the forecast for the third time this hour. But, at this point, you knew it was no use. It was currently Monday morning and a snowstorm had hit Chicago late last night. Seeing as your 9 am Monday class was the only class that hadn't been canceled this week, you planned to leave right after class and make the eight-hour drive from Kansas City to Chicago, and planned to get back home around 9 pm at night. You, Will, and Jay had been discussing this possibility of you not coming home since last Thursday when the storm had been forecasted.

You sighed and looked at all you stuff that you had lined up in the hallway of your apartment, right beside your door. You figured maybe they'd be wrong, so maybe you'd be able to leave today...it wouldn't be the first time meteorologists had been wrong.

You dialed Will's number and put your phone on speaker as you started to make your coffee.

"Hey, kiddo," he answered.

"I can't come home. It's supposed to keep snowing and there's accidents everywhere when I get about two hours from home and--"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Will said.

"But it's not! I wanna come home for Thanksgiving, Will!"

"And you will. Thanksgiving's on Thursday. It's only Monday. You can always make the drive on Wednesday if it clears up."

"But what if it doesn't!"

"Hey, don't think like that. The plows will be out soon and then we'll go from there, okay?"

You sniffled. "Okay."

"Now, get ready for class and me and Jay will keep you updated on the road conditions. Sound good?"

"I guess," you answered.

"If there's one thing I know about Chicago weather is that it's unpredictable, so think positive."

"Yeah. I'm gonna go now. I'll text Jay and tell him I won't be coming home today. He's probably gonna call me in the next thirty minutes, too."

"Good idea. Have a good day, kiddo. And, there's still three days until Thanksgiving, so don't stress."

"Easier said than done."

***

Wednesday, 7 am

Jay stood in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Then, he looked outside. It wasn't snowing as hard, but after one quick look at the traffic and road conditions online, he knew most of the roads were still glare ice. There was no way you could make the drive back.

"Morning," Hailey said. She grabbed a mug from the cupboard. "Roads not looking any better?"

"No. I don't know what to do, Hailey. I don't want her to miss Thanksgiving, but it's not safe for her to drive. I mean, we could try to go there later in the day, but with traffic and everything..."

"We wouldn't get there until the middle of the night," Hailey finished.

Then his phone buzzed. It was a text from Will. There was also a picture attached.

Train tickets? the text read with a picture of train tickets that left at 9:30 am and got into Kansas City around 5 pm.

"Don't tell my brother I said this," Jay began, "but he's a genius." Hailey furrowed her eyebrows and Jay passed her his phone. "The Amtrac is still running."

Hailey smiled. "Nine-thirty, huh? Guess we better start packing."

***

You curled up on your bed. Even though it was only 6 pm, it was dark. And, hey, maybe you'd sleep for over 24 hours and could sleep through Thanksgiving. You and Jay had talked this morning and he told you it still wasn't safe for you to drive home. He said that if he could drive out, he would. But, even he knew it was unsafe to drive long distances in this weather.

You were just about to turn your phone on silent and put it in sleep mode when a call came through. It was from Jay.

"Yeah?" you asked while you held back tears.

"Come to your window. We're outside."

"What? Jay, I think I heard you wrong."

"Just, come look out your window," he repeated.

"You're scaring me. I'm not gonna go look outside without knowing what I'm gonna see. It's dark outside! Is there a serial killer near me? Is that why you want me to look outside? I didn't get an emergency alert or anything!"

"Y/N, nothing's wrong. But, the Amtrac was still running and we rented a car when we got down here and--"

"You're here?!" you exclaimed and jumped out of bed and ran to your window.

You quickly peeked through the blinds and sure enough, there were Jay, Will, and Hailey standing in front of a small, blue rental car, the headlights illuminating them.

Your face lit up. "I'm coming down!"

Then, you hung up your phone and quickly threw on a hoodie over your t-shirt and slipped your feet into your shoes, not caring if the sweatpants you were wearing had a little stain on them.

You ran from the walking gate to the parking lot. "How did you guys...Scratch that! When did you guys think this up?"

Jay pulled you into a hug. "Ugh, missed you, kid. Morning's aren't the same without you trying to steal my coffee."

"You loved it," you joked.

"And, to answer your question," Will started and you gave him a hug, "It was my idea."

"Jay even went so far as to call him a genius," Hailey supplied.

"I told you not to tell him that," Jay muttered.

"Oops, must've been all the drinks I had on the train."

"You didn't even—" Jay cut himself off with a sigh. "Forget it. Happy wife, happy life."

"Glad I wasn't on that train," you muttered.

"Wasn't too bad," Will said. "If you had headphones."

"You're an ass," Jay said.

"Well, this ass was the one who had the idea to get Amtrac tickets."

"So, you're a smart ass then?"

"C'mon you guys," you said, trying your best to stop their bickering. "Grab your stuff. Let's get inside and then we can order from the pub across the street."

"Sounds good to me," Will said. "I gotta try that fried chicken sandwich you're always talking about."

***

"Holy shit," Will said after he took his first bite of the fried chicken sandwich. "You weren't kidding."

"I think this is one of the best things I've ever tasted," Jay agreed.

Then, Hailey quickly reached over and stole the other half of her husband's sandwich.

"Hey!"

"I wanna try it!" Then she took a bite. "You guys are right, this is really good!"

Then, she gave Jay his sandwich back and dipped her five cheese grilled cheese that she'd gotten in her bowl of tomato soup.

"So, what are we doing for Thanksgiving tomorrow?" you asked.

"Shit. I didn't that far ahead," Will said.

"Can't get a turkey now, wouldn't thaw in time," Hailey said. "They'd probably be sold out anyway."

You stood up and started looking through your fridge. "Let's see...I have eggs, bread, milk, a bunch of condiments, wraps..." you continued listing off what you had in your fridge, freezer, and cupboard. "I probably have the stuff for sweet potato casserole, mashed potatoes, broccoli, and we can do sandwiches instead of turkey. Oh! I can also make these apple butter cinnamon rolls I've made a couple times when I have friends over."

"We can probably find rolls somewhere in the morning," Jay supplied. "And maybe some carrots somewhere for cooked carrots."

"I can make spanikopita if I can find the ingredients tomorrow," Hailey said.

"And I'll find the wine aisle tomorrow," Will said.

"Or Trulys. We can always have those," you suggested. "The tropical pack, though."

Will rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd suggest that."

"So, me and Will will go to the store tomorrow morning and you can make the cinnamon rolls. Hails, what do you need for the spanikopita?"

Hailey then told Jay what she needed and he wrote it down on his phone. Then, the four of you continued eating and thinking about everything you needed to do tomorrow.

***

"Morning, sleepy head," Hailey greeted when you woke up the next morning. She was standing at the stove making eggs, a cup of coffee sitting on the counter next to her. "Want some eggs?"

"Oh, you don't have to make me any. I can cook for myself," you answered.

"I know you can cook for yourself. But, I'm already cooking, so if you want some, I can make you some."

"Okay," you answered. "Thank you."

"No problem."

You went back to your room and grabbed the current book that you were reading.

"Here you go," Hailey said a few minutes later and handed you a plate of eggs and toast along with a cup of coffee.

"Thanks, Hails."

"You're welcome. Hey, you mind if I steal a book from you to read?"

You shook your head. "Go right ahead," you answered. "I'd highly recommend The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue."

"Alright, I'll read that one then."

Then, the two of you ate your breakfast and read your books and you had a quiet morning with your sister-in-law before you started cooking.

***

Six hours later, the grilled sandwiches were made and all the sides and the cinnamon rolls and wine were on the counter. There was a Blackhawks game on your tv since none of you watched the game that they played yesterday. And, even though it wasn't the Thanksgiving you had in mind, your brothers and Hailey still made it one to remember.

END

Choking:

Request from anon on tumblr: Hey can you pls do a story of like the Halstead siblings with y/n Halstead (their sister) and they are at dinner and she starts choking and they like save her and she passes out and worries them

A/N: The age in this one is first grade.

For Jay and Will, grades had always been something important...well, Will a bit more so than Jay. But, they were important nonetheless and they had instilled that in you. Because of this, you were super excited to show Jay your report card after school because you had gotten all As (the A in math could definitely be attributed to your brothers going over subtraction flashcards with you almost every day). So, Will sent a quick text telling him to meet the two of you at Applebees because that's where you wanted to go for dinner. And, if you got all As (or all As and Bs, but you didn't know about the B part, which was between Jay and Will), you got to go wherever you wanted that night for dinner. Tonight, you chose Applebees.

"Will!" you exclaimed when you saw him while waiting for your table. "I got all A's!"

"I heard!" Will said, matching your enthusiasm. "You might be smarter than me!"

You quickly shook your head. "Nuh-uh."

"And what makes you say that, missy?"

"Because you a doctor!"

"Well...you're definitely smarter than Jay."

"Hey!" Jay yelled, faking offense.

"You did mess up that subtraction problem that day," Will reminded him.

"I had been up for over 24 hours!"

They quickly stopped their petty bickering when Jay's name was called for their table.

***

Half an hour later, you were eating your chicken tenders and fries while your brothers ate their food.

You swallowed a big bite and felt it get stuck a bit, so you took a sip of water. It still wouldn't go down and you still had the water in your mouth!

You started to cough and the water spewed out of your mouth.

Jay saw your red face and quickly started hitting your back, trying to get the food to come out.

"Keep coughing, Y/N," Will told you as he stood up and got right next to you.

You did three big coughs and still nothing.

Will crouched down next to you. "Y/N, I'm gonna get this out."

Your head was starting to feel weird, so whatever Will said, you didn't hear him. But, the next thing you knew, you felt hands wrap around your belly and then you felt yourself go forward and then back quickly and then then the big piece of chicken tender came flying out of your mouth and hit the spot in the booth where Will had previously been sitting.

You gasped for air.

"You okay, kiddo?" Jay asked and ran a hand through your hair.

You shook your head and buried your face in his chest.

"I'll go get the bill and order a milkshake for her to go," Will said and stood up.

Jay nodded and just continued to hold you.

"No more chicken and fries!" you told him.

"It's okay," he said. "You don't have to finish them. Will's gonna get you your milkshake and pay and then we're gonna go home. Does that sound okay?"

You nodded.

No more chicken tenders for you!

***

The next day when you came home from school, Jay inspected your lunch box and saw that all you had eaten out of it, was your juice box. It had taken a bit of coaxing last night to get you to drink your milkshake, but they finally got you to drink it by explaining that you didn't have to chew.

He walked into your room to see you grabbing some stuffed animals, presumably bringing them out into the living room to play with.

"Are you feeling okay, kiddo?" Jay asked and crouched down to your height and handed you your stuffed cat.

"Uh huh," you told him, even though your head felt funny.

"You sure? You didn't eat your lunch today."

He put a hand to your forehead. You didn't feel warm.

"Wasn't hungry," you answered.

At that, your stomach growled.

"Well, you're hungry now. How about you come eat your sandwich or Goldfish, alright? Your animals can come with you, too."

At this, you started to cry. You were scared, you felt funny, and you were hungry.

"No!" you wailed. "Just juice! I want juice!"

"Why just juice, Y/N? Why don't you want Goldfish? You love Goldfish."

"Don't want Goldfishies cause they get stuck. Like the chicken nugget!"

"No. They won't," Jay reassured you.

"How you know?"

Jay thought for a second. How could he make a first-grader understand this.

Then, a lightbulb went off in his head.

"C'mere. I gotta show you something," Jay told you.

You followed him out of your room—arms full of stuffed animals—and into the kitchen. He grabbed an empty cardboard toilet paper roll from the recycling bin and set that on the counter. Then, he grabbed a piece of bread from the fridge.

He held up the empty toilet paper roll. "This is like your mouth, okay?" You nodded. He crumpled up the piece of bread. "And pretend this is the chicken nugget you ate last night."

"But that's not a chicken nuggy! That's bread!"

Jay smiled. "I know that. But just pretend. Just like when you pretend you're a princess."

"Okay!"

"When you put a big piece of food in your mouth, like this–" Jay tried his best to shove the piece of bread into the empty roll. "--it gets stuck," he finished. "Then, someone has to help you get it out." With a little effort, Jay managed to squeeze the piece of bread out. "Like this. That's what happened to you last night and then Will had to help you get it out."

"Uh-huh," you agreed.

Jay then proceeded to rip the bread into little pieces. "But, when the food is smaller, it doesn't get stuck. See?" He fed a few pieces of bread through the empty roll and then let them fall out the other side and onto the table. "Then they go into your tummy. You just need to make sure the food is small and chewed up."

"I just gotta bite my chicken nuggies and then they don't get stuck anymore?" you asked with a curious look on your face.

"And chew them good," Jay confirmed.

"Can I have chicken nuggies now? And Goldfishes?"

Jay laughed. In a normal scenario, he wouldn't let you have both chicken nuggets and Goldfish; he'd make you eat your sandwich that was leftover from your lunch. But, seeing as you've barely eaten today, he figured one time wouldn't kill you.

"I think we have some Dino nuggies somewhere."

You gasped excitedly. "You got me the Dino ones?"

"I did. Now, how about you and your animals go sit down and I'll bring them to you, okay?"

You did as Jay suggested and went and sat down, putting your stuffed animals on the other chairs at the table.

And, when Jay told Will about everything and how he convinced you to eat with that demonstration, Will told him that he could be a science teacher. Of course, Jay had laughed and told him no way. You were more than enough. He didn't think he could deal with twenty of you.

END

A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to reblog and comment!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @911ls-tarlos @iamasimpingh0e @i-like-sparkly-things @herecomesthewriterwitch @liampayne88 @glitterquadricorn @luvreading67 @smoothdogsgirl @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @actlikesummerr @lcothr523 @star-wars-lover

[satashiiwrites]

WIP Wednesday

So I got today to write 6k and finish this chapter if I wanna stay on track…. And I got stuff scheduled all day.

This is not looking promising… maybe by the end of the week?

Tagging @quietborderline @missanniewhimsy @megasaurus-regina @monsterrae1 @westernlarch @tkwritesdumbassassins @outtoshatter @muffinsandsweets @rosieposiepuddingnpie with no pressure as always. This is just for fun and to keep me on track.

Banner by radio chatter.

From: Family, Familia, ‘Ohana, Chapter 10: FUBAR, Danny’s POV

Fandom: 911, H50, SWAT

Pairings: Buddie, McDanno, platonic deacon/hondo

Fic summary:

When one family seems lost another comes back from the past. But does Buck want to return to the past or live in the present? And does his present lead to a future he wants? Only he can answer these questions but Steve at least will be there to support him.

Tags/warnings: kidnapped eddie, first draft, NavySeal!buck, alternative universe, timeline what timeline?, set vaguely season 3 911 and I’m not giving a time frame for H50 (because it wouldn’t make sense anyway). Written while sleep deprived.

Danny rubs his temples, fighting off a looming headache. He’s been staring at his own terrible cramped handwriting for hours. Steve’s fingers replace his, and he lets his eyes close with a groan as Steve rubs his neck and temples. 

“You got another headache?” Steve’s voice is gentle and soft. He’s practically sitting on Danny’s desk as he hovers, but Danny doesn’t care. They’re alone in the office, and if Steve wants to touch him, Danny’s going to let him. 

“Yeah.”

“I can get you some ibuprofen or Tylenol?”

“Took some with the Alka-Seltzer earlier.” Danny will pay for Steve to keep up the neck massage he’s giving. Steve’s fingers are digging into the knot that had been forming between Danny’s shoulders, and when it releases, he bites his tongue to stop from moaning. 

“You didn’t eat.” There’s disapproval and worry in Steve’s tone. 

“Wasn’t hungry.”  

He wasn’t.  

“This has been sitting out too long now. Do you want me to order something?”

“Let me rephrase. I am not hungry right now, nor was I.”

Steve chuckles, and his fingers find another knot, working into Danny’s left shoulder that he’d slept on last night on the sofa for a few hours. He’s ignoring Danny’s grumbling like usual. 

“These headaches of yours worry me.”  

Danny opens his eyes at this. Steve is close—closer than he’d thought. He’s wrapped himself around Danny, and they’re not touching other than where Steve’s hands are still rubbing his shoulders, but he can feel his body heat because Steve is that close. 

Steve’s observing Danny, waiting for him to say something about the concern he’d voiced, and Danny is floundering with what to say. He stupidly lands on, “They’re just headaches.”

“You’ve been getting a lot of them.”

“I get them when I’m stressed.”

“You get them less when you sleep over.”

“That’s because I sleep better at your place,” slips out before he can take the words back. 

“Why?”

It’s an innocuous question. Why? Why, indeed.  

He has his theories. Danny had slept better when he was still married and sharing a bed with Rachel, and he could roll over and cuddle with her, listening to her breathe. He slept worse when alone because he hated being alone. It’d never been a problem until he and Rachel had started having problems, and she’d kicked him to the couch most nights, denying him coldly. 

Danny was like a dog that needed a companion or otherwise would tear things apart out of anxiety—he needed another heartbeat to listen to in the night. Sleeping at Steve’s and knowing he was just upstairs or hearing his footsteps when he got up at night to do his patrols around the house that Steve swore he didn’t do but Danny had watched him do every night he’d slept over unless Steve was drugged or concussed… there was a rhythm to those nights. They usually watched a movie after dinner or a game and sat too close on the couch because Danny was too tactile, and Steve seemed to crave touch as much as Danny needed to give it.

Confessing this to Steve, however, was probably not in Danny’s best interest. Knowing Steve, he’d have Danny moved in by the end of the week, and Danny needed just a little bit of space for when Steve would inevitably find either another woman or Cath would finally wander back his way. 

Danny didn’t need a front-row seat to Steve choosing a leggy brunette or blonde over him. He was already going to be too close, and it would hurt when it finally happened. If Steve is talking to Cath, then… she will probably come back at some point. Danny hadn’t known they’d still been talking after she left him in Afghanistan a year ago to go chasing after missing villagers and hadn’t wanted Steve’s help. 

[lorkai]

 A/N: Yesterday was the last day of the asexual week and I knew I had to hurry to finish this oneshot in time. First because this has been in my drafts for months and second because I genuinely love his and Yuu's friendship, it's so cute and I hope we see more of that in chapter 7.

Warning: Fluff mostly, asexual and gender neutral!reader, first time writing for Malleus, he might be occ, also proofread only one time. Lemme know if there’s a typo pls! 

 --- Tagging: @rainiishowers @astershere @jabberwockk ​

When your chest heaved with uncertainty the only thing you could do was walk until your thoughts cleared, an attentive mind was what would keep you alive in this place after all. And since you arrived in Twisted Wonderland this has happened much more often, anxiety and fear consuming you at being in a totally unknown world and completely without a way to fight those idiots. They had magic while you only had a grumpy fire-breathing cat and your own fists.

It wasn't much, but it was enough for you to be able to snatch the magic pen from their hand and fight. And fighting was the only thing you could do to have a roof over your head and enough money to survive, even though Crowley made you work until your body was as heavy as lead and your mind was about to shut off from the world. Unsurprisingly, today was a day where you ran around, did your homework, took care of your three idiots, and did Crowley's job.

And there was only one problem. You couldn't sleep, couldn't think straight except for the things that awaited you in the morning, tasks that weren't yours but that you had to complete to receive enough Madols to continue living.

Or fight an overblot student, as this has become frequent.

The weather was hot, making you roll from one side of the bed to the other and sometimes face Grimm on his side of the bed, purring, sometimes muttering something you didn't understand. The sound of him purring would put you to sleep most nights, but today it just didn't work. Even scrolling through posts didn't work and counting sheep was a little too childish for you to consider the thought.

Tired of the restless hours and the heat, you got up and left the room. You intended to eat ice cream or whatever you had in the fridge and try to study for the exams that were almost there, even though you knew that tomorrow you would need energy and willingness to get through the day. You held back a sigh, imagining the things you'd fix once you got Crowley's generous allowance, maybe you'd buy a new sofa as the current one was falling apart. But looking up you decided it would be better to fix the roof, slight leaks were forming and you had already scraped both your knees from so many times you had slipped in puddles of water while walking in a hurry.

  The ghosts were starting to place bets on how much it would take for you to get seriously hurt, and while they were laughing at the situation, they were also careful to try and catch you before you fell - which again didn't work, as they were ghosts and couldn't touch you physically.

“Awake at this hour, child?” The ghost floated past you as if waiting for the right moment to snap you out of your melancholy thoughts, but also with the mischievous air of someone who intended to scare you. The smile on his face was all you needed to know to realize it and he laughed softly. “Try drinking hot milk to relax. I remember my mother always giving me milk with honey when I was just a little kid, I miss those days.”

But you denied it, indifferently.

"I'm going to eat ice cream." You told him, stretching. You considered drinking iced milk for a moment before dismissing the idea, Grimm would go crazy if he didn't have milk to drink in the morning and you weren't even that fond of it.

“Oh well, I don't think it's good… Hm? Oh, he's there again?" The ghost muttered and broke off, turning toward the window as if he'd heard something you hadn't. Surreptitiously he approached the window to spy something outside that had caught his attention, his gestures were careful and thoughtful as it seemed that he didn't want to be seen by whoever was outside. And curious, you approached him and looked too, but at first you didn't see anything out of the ordinary. "It is so strange. He always shows up at this time and wanders around outside, sometimes humming, sometimes playing his game. Formerly he even dared to enter here. I find it so lonely. Anyway, go to sleep, child, I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning. Goodnight."

And just as he suddenly appeared, the ghost disappeared through the walls. But the doubt was already in your head and ignoring all your common sense you opened the door and the urge to eat ice cream, and ventured against the gusts of dry wind and the persistent heat. You didn't care so much about the lack of an air conditioner anymore, but Crowley could be generous enough to give you a fan at least. And it almost made your tired mind laugh. If he had the option to continue procrastinating he would do so without a shadow of a doubt.

The tall grass was at your ankles and the sensation would almost tickle you if it weren't irritating, you analyzed the scenery in front of you meticulously trying to see what lurked in the dark of the night and only then noticed the person resting under the old willow tree. The black and green uniform managed to camouflage him between the tall trees and the dark of a moonless night, if you didn't know what you were looking for then you certainly wouldn't notice him there, but you noticed him and you decided to approach him with carefree steps. Perhaps the lack of sleep made you dumber than you already were. But you've faced greater dangers than just a guy sitting on the grass in your dorm.

And what could he do? You asked with a silent laugh.

  He didn't seem capable of hurting anyone, though his face grew serious with every step you took towards him. But that didn't stop you as you imagined the reasons he would be there, at that time. Maybe he also had trouble sleeping at night or just went out to clear his head like you did sometimes, as the ghost said he was definitely humming something, though your human ears were unable to capture the beauty of the sound until it was too late and he has stopped humming.

Or maybe, the ironic thought raced through your brain, you had finally reached a deep exhaustion and were creating a person in your mind that you could talk to normally. It was ironic that the NRC therapist needed another therapist.

  His green eyes were mesmerizing and tinged with danger. But what caught your attention the most were the prominent horns sticking out of his head and how you wanted to touch them. You didn't doubt for a second that they were real, after all the encounter with Leona, the dorm leader of Savanaclaw, who had the ears and tail of a lion was still fresh in your memory. And you refrained from touching them without permission, smiling as you crouched in front of him, a few feet away.

“Um, are you okay? What are you doing here?" you asked, running your eyes over his body to make sure you didn't see any apparent injuries. Sighing, you concluded that he must have gone there for another reason when all he did was smile as if he was amused at something, his eyes twinkling in an odd way. You scratched your neck like you didn't know how to react to that, Twisted Wonderland was really testing your limits to be proactive and know how to act with every awkward situation thrown your way.

  He denied. “This is a surprise. You're a child of man, aren't you?”

You shrugged, laughing softly at the nickname he'd bestowed on you. Despite the strangeness you could see that he really wouldn't do you any harm.

“So this derelict dorm that I've taken as my own for all this time actually has a new owner after all, it's a shame. I really wish I had a place where I could enjoy the silence.” Malleus shifted and sat cross-legged as he stared at a fixed point lost in the darkness. To you he seemed to be lost in thought, he didn't even blink when you waved your hand in front of his face. But the fae paid attention to your gestures, studied them, and found it funny how you acted with concern rather than fear.

A lonely smile played across his face while he thought about how other people would be running and profusely apologizing for interrupting him during his rest, how they feared him simply because he was more powerful than they were. But there is no power without humility and he would never do anything against people without having a reason to do so. "If this dorm is no longer abandoned I should find another place for my next night outing, I guess this is my cue to say goodbye then, child of man."

The boy in front of you got up and straightened his robes. He looked ready to leave and perhaps it was best to leave him, as your experiences with all the inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland had been interesting, to say the least, but dangerous. However, you held his hand on impulse, probably because he looked familiar to you. It reminded you of a certain mystical being that brought you comfort as you explored the world and sought to understand who you were.

"Or you can keep coming." You offered and he was considering the offer, and you noticed how he was weighing the pros and cons equally as he straightened his gloves and dusted off his uniform. "Only me and my grumpy cat live here, so it wouldn't be a problem if you joined us once in a while."

“You have no knowledge of who I am, do you, child of man?” Was his immediate response, circling you in slow steps as he watched confusion paint your face. The air around him told you he'd already made his decision before he'd even said it aloud, that the confidence in his smile and the soft way his eyes gleamed heralded the start of something interesting. “Do you not fear me? Aren't you afraid that I might do something to you?”

You suppressed a laugh and slapped his arm in a friendly gesture. “Of course I do, I'm not that innocent and I've had some problems since I got here. But with every passing second it's hard to be scared when all I'm thinking about is whether I can touch your horns or not." You said it sincerely. You raised your hands in the air, but you waited for some kind of positive reaction to your comment so you could actually do that. “I don't know if this sounds weird but you remind me of a dragon. I think it's because of the horns and you know, dragons are important symbols for people like me. It reminds me of home, at least.”

Suddenly, Malleus doubled over with laughter and it was more than obvious that he hadn't expected that heartfelt answer. He was a strange guy, you supposed, but at least his laugh was merry and it took most of your tiredness away easily and you joined him in laughing, a soft, genuine laugh influenced by his glee.

“You amuse me, child of man.” He actually declared. "May I ask you a question?"

You nodded, moving your hand to emphasize that he had permission to do so. You shifted your weight from one leg to the other as you waited for him to collect his thoughts and ask the question he seemed to want to ask, you suppressed a laugh as the grass hit your ankles again and focused your attention on his green eyes.

“When you say dragons are important symbols for people like you, what do you mean?” It was a genuine question that anyone could have, but you always answered it in a clumsy way because for some people it didn't make sense and they were rude when they expressed their opinions camouflaged with prejudice on the subject. It would be a shame if the boy in front of you was one of those people, but you could see a special glint in his eye and you were pretty sure that wasn't the case.

"It's a bit of a long story." You said turning towards your dorm, not caring about the time or the hot weather that still bothered you. “Mind if we talk while we eat ice cream?”

For someone his size, Malleus nearly jumped and let out a squeal of excitement at the invitation. But he regained his composure quickly and hid what he felt behind a forced, loud cough, finally agreeing to escort you into the dorm so you could chat some more while enjoying a good old-fashioned ice cream. It was easy to tell it was his favorite dessert from the way he was almost floating down the stairs to the door, a shy little smile on his lips.

If he'd noticed how old everything was, he'd been kind enough not to mention it in front of you, escorting you into the kitchen to watch the careful way you poured two bowls of ice cream and hummed a tune he didn't know.

“Here it is, hope you like it!” You handed him a bowl of ice cream, smiling. And he thanked you with a polite nod, pushing his long hair behind his ear before eating the delicious dessert. “My name is Yuu, by the way. What is your name?"

The boy in front of you laughed once more before giving you an enigmatic look. “I prefer that you remain without that knowledge. You see, it's for your own good, I assure you. However, I grant you permission to give me a nickname.”

Granted, the toothless human version could be a little eccentric, but you looked at it through a more optimistic lens and thought of various puns on dragons and their names. Tiamat, Sunfyre, Toothless and many other names, but you ended up choosing the nickname Tsunotaro. In your head it made complete sense, at least and suited him.

"Well, as promised I'll tell you why dragons are important." You left your ice cream bowl on the sink as you came to sit on the counter, standing at the same height as Tsunotaro. The common nervousness and anxiety of coming out tickled your belly, but at that point you already knew how to handle it and took a deep breath. “There’s a thing called asexuality, it is a sexuality characterized by a lack of attraction and a desire to, umm, have intimate relationships with someone. Some asexual people like to cuddle and kiss and be in romantic relationships and situations. Other people may not be interested in any of this either, it varies greatly from person to person. Got the general idea?”

Tsunotaro nodded, still eating his ice cream slowly savoring all its flavors and listening to every word you said with great interest.

“Well, as we were little seen and understood by society we kind of associate asexuality with dragons. They don't exist in the world I come from, but I've always taken comfort in the thought of them, as they are so free and big and strong and happy." You smiled with the memories of your past. How you spent hours drawing messy dragons in your notebooks or making plans to invade Denmark while eating garlic bread. Those were the happiest and loneliest days, mainly because you hadn't had the opportunity to meet many people like you or who fully understood your expectations and fears. “You reminded me of a dragon because of your horns. I hope you don't find this too strange or offensive."

Tsunotaro, however, waved his hand away to dismiss your worried thought. “You are certainly not wrong, child of man, since in part I am a dragon, yes. With a pair of horns and a tail, and if I wanted I could take the full form of a dragon, so I'm flattered to think that thousands of people adore my kind and feel safe and happy when they think of us.”

He smiled. A relaxed, happy smile as he leaned his back against the counter you sat on, the silence that fell between the two of you was the comfortable kind. Almost as if two good old friends had been reunited after a long time apart. "You... You can touch them if you still want to, fufu." he said suddenly, lowering his head and peering in your direction with one of his emerald eyes.

But you hesitated. You had just met him and it felt so strange to touch his horns all of a sudden, but when you looked at him and realized he was serious and he really didn't care, you touched them. From base to tip, feeling the texture and trying to remember if you've ever touched anything that looked like this.

Unbelieving that a sleepless night made you befriend a half dragon, you look into Tsunotaro's face intently and study each expression carefully. How he shivers at the chills running down his spine when you hold his horns, how he closes his eyes and sighs when you massage them. As he goes silent, you decide to go ahead with it. It's so weird, but it's so interesting at the same time. Despite their appearance, they are soft and warm to the touch and he seems to enjoy having his horns massaged like that. The relaxed expression he wears makes you laugh, it's almost like petting a kitten and watching its reactions. He's cute like that.

"You know, I believe we'll be good friends." You mumble softly. At the very least, you hope that after all this the two of you can be friends, as he seemed like someone genuinely nice to spend time with.

The sweet sound of his laughter echoed through the kitchen as he looked at you. "I'd love it if we were friends, child of man. Could you tell me more about asexuality?"

You nodded enthusiastically, feeling really welcomed and comfortable. And for the rest of the night you and he were talking about it, making jokes and puns and just having fun.

And that was the story of how you met Malleus Draconia. For people who would like a more elaborate and challenging plot this could be a rather ordinary and boring story, but for him and for you it was a pleasant story and full of good memories. A story of a dragon and his ace friend.

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

mercifully God spared me today from running into any of the people to whom I would have said the following and so I managed to keep it all to myself until now

finishing the rough draft of the dissertation has put me in an introspective frame of mind

nothing I have to say will come as a surprise to you but it probably would have been upsetting to any of the people I would have seen over the course of a normal Monday

I've wanted to die for the last eleven years

I was extremely unhappy in my youth but I kind of understood this to be a more or less temporary state, either because I was going to die in a nuclear war, or the world would end by some other means before I reached adulthood, and I grit my teeth and endured

Sometimes at night as I tried to fall asleep I would imagine what my wife would be like and where she might be and what she might be doing in that very moment (she was just a couple miles down the road though I didn't know at the time) and I have come to realize, or recall, that at that time I was staking a lot on a future romantic partner to solve a lot of my life's problems (life would disabuse me of that notion before I got married), and I think at a deeper level what I had come vaguely to internalize very early in my life was that my emotional well-being was going to have to come from outside my family and I was going to have to escape

I always knew vaguely that I was supposed to find everything that I was looking for in God, but I did not and still do not understand how that sustains a person on a day to day level. Prayer does not replace breathing, so there are at least a few things that we need to sustain us outside prayer. Christians will tell me that other people are essential and that they are a critical means of communicating and receiving the love of God until the moment I am actually in need of love and then they invariably send me away to pray. I suppose being sent away is what it means to experience the love of God.

In my youth I always hoped that I was going to find what I was looking for in the next place, whatever was the next place, a new school, the new church. It never came, I never found it. I found my wife, I dated, I got married, it didn't fill me up but by then I didn't expect a romantic relationship to fill a person up anymore so this didn't seem out of the ordinary to me.

I kept all this up until the spring semester of my senior year in college. At that time I thought, vaguely, I was looking for friendship, or belonging, or something like that. Around April of 2012 I realized what I have been struggling to accept ever since, which is that whatever it is, I am never going to find it in this life, and I am not good enough for it anyway. In fact I am by virtue of the way I have lived my life, and perhaps by my very nature, disqualified from having it. Like Lancelot, so stupefied by his sin that he did not recognize the Grail when it passed before him, I would not even know it if I did find it. The problem was and remains within me.

I wanted to die.

One night during the senior week or whatever the college did a little booze cruise thing and I remember thinking that maybe I would just throw myself into the river, but the most serious thing that happened was that June, there was a .45 beside the bed, and one night, in that kind of reverie between wakefulness and sleep, I experienced what I can only describe as the temptation to shoot myself in the head. By which I mean that the sensation was precisely what you feel when you are looking at a dessert you know you shouldn't eat, or you are thinking of saying something you know you shouldn't say. I roused myself and the feeling passed.

I know that I have a reputation of just existing in a mire of depressive self-pity and never doing anything to make it better -- because of course if I did anything to make it better, it would get better -- but here are some of the things that I did in the last eleven years that I had hoped would make it better:

I invested in my relationships with my coworkers. I volunteered to play bass and guitar at my church to get involved. My wife and I moved to Japan for a little while. I drew a comic book. I volunteered at my new church. We had two children. I started seeing a therapist. I started running. I started WWII re-enacting. I went to graduate school. I worked full time while going to school full time. I volunteered to play music at my new church. I went to small groups in my church. I started seeing a new therapist. I started taking antidepressants. I got my Master's degree. I started running the music at my church. I moved. I bought a house. I started a PhD program. I tried to open myself up to people. I started seeing a new therapist. I got a second Master's degree. I went skydiving. I tried to open up even more, to new people. I lived in London for a semester. I traveled. I started teaching. I volunteered to play music at my new church. I finished a rough draft of my dissertation.

It never got better, and I do not think it ever will. I am very nearly out of ideas.

I think, to think that you want something, and to chase after it hoping that it will make you happy, is like drinking salt water. It can be a possession, it can be an experience, it can be a state of mind, it can be a person. It can be love. Wanting to feel loved--wanting to feel love as something other than punishment--can be an idol.

The more things I try to make it better, even good things, the worse I think it gets.

Anyone who seeks to save his life will lose it.

I have been clawing myself out of that hole for eleven years and enduring ridicule for all my failure not to be unhappy the entire time. I can't believe how angry people are with me for being unhappy. It infuriates them.

But, you know, it goes on, and I am reminded of the passage towards the end of Anna Karenina

And Levin, a happy father and husband, in perfect health, was several times so near suicide that he hid the cord that he might not be tempted to hang himself, and was afraid to go out with his gun for fear of shooting himself. But Levin did not shoot himself, and did not hang himself; he went on living.

[autumnwoodsdreamer]

Hai Can u please write a story about pregnant natasha romanoff(Ironwidow)

Hi! I never forgot about this ask; I just didn’t know what to write for it until today when I found this floating around in my draft folders. Hope you enjoy!

. . . . .

Note: this is from an incomplete Civil War AU where Tony and Natasha got married some time after the Battle of New York and have kept it a secret from pretty much the entire world (with a few exceptions)

. . . . .

“I can’t go with you,” Natasha declared, flatly, as she stepped out the en suite.

“It’s non-negotiable,” Tony said, standing by the window and perusing the morning bustle of the city twenty-five storeys below while using his reflection in the glass to button his dress shirt. “All active and non-active Avengers have to be present for this Accords briefing.”

“I don’t think you heard me: I can’t go.”

“A bit late to change your mind, dear; you confirmed—twice—that you’d be there.”

“It’s not that I’ve changed my mind or that I don’t want to. It’s…” she blew out a sigh, clipped and frustrated. “Just look.”

Her husband paused his little chore and turned as requested, his brow mildly furrowed. “Your hair looks fine,” he assured, breezily.

She rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I meant,” she insisted, pointedly turning side-on.

Tony stepped closer, folded his arms then cupped his chin in his hand. Narrowing his gaze and focussing as he studied her profile, he frowned as if he couldn’t immediately see the issue she hinted at.

After a minute of examination and intense consideration, he shook his head, unsure exactly what would be appropriate to say.

“Don’t play dumb,” Natasha cautioned, wearily, with a deadpan expression. “It’s very obvious I look pregnant.”

“Okay, so you’re… showing a bit more,” he finally admitted and unfolded his arms with a shrug. “You’re getting along; a little bump is... to be expected. Perfectly fine. Just wear a looser top and no one will know.”

She rubbed at her eyes, a strained sigh escaping with her next breath. “I’ve tried all my shirts; nothing’s hiding it today.”

“Then make sure you face people straight on when you talk to them.”

She tilted her head, her pursed lips and lowered eyebrows wordlessly warning him she was not in the mood for banter.

Tony, though interpreting the notion, pressed on. Closing the distance, he braced his hands on his knees and bent down as if to address their child. “Is this why I nearly starved last night, young lady?” he asked in a stage whisper with a playful tone of chastisement.

“I only had half your chips,” Natasha reminded him, exasperatedly rolling her eyes as she inwardly battled the urge to smile and let her stress melt.

Her husband glanced up to her. “And half my steak. And all my salad,” he listed, indignantly, then returned attention to their unborn child. “Listen, young lady, this is unacceptable. You’re grounded.”

She batted his arm, goodnaturedly. “This is serious,” she said, but her front had already crumbled, amusement pulling out a very small quirk of her lips.

“Of course it is,” he agreed with all innocence. “It’s very serious; this is the first time we’ve ever had to ground her. We need to discuss it and determine a fair but appropriate punishment.” Straightening up, he pretended to think over the matter, tapping his chin and frowning. “No TV for a month? Wash the car? No salmon or raspberry muffins for a week?”

Her fight fading, she gave in then and let her smile slip into a laugh. Salmon fillets and raspberry muffins (separately or together) had turned out to be her most popular craving foods. “We can’t punish her for something she did without ill intent.”

Tony nodded, thoughtfully, his jovial expression pinching. “You’re right; we don’t want to be those kinda parents.”

Natasha knew him too well to miss the notions and nuisances underlying his tone and spoiling the playfulness of their exchange. “No. We’ll do better,” she assured, softly. Mindfully making her movements predictable, she reached up to finish buttoning his shirt for him. “That’s why we’re going to all this trouble to keep her—and us—a secret.”

“Maybe it’d be easier just to tell them,” he suggested, halfheartedly. Gently, almost gingerly, he placed a hand on her slightly swollen belly.

“Steve will have to kick us off the team and we can’t risk that; not now.”

“He might understand if we explain we were married before the World Security Counsil made the rule of no inter-team relationships.”

“Right. Because that would make it apply less.”

“No, but we might gain a little leniency because our track record can prove being a couple had no impact on our job performance.”

“Being married is one thing; being pregnant is another.” She paused fastening the third-to-last button, absently tracing her thumb over the familiar blue motif embedded in her husband’s chest. “Even if no one finds out you’re... involved; I can’t exactly deny this. I’ll still be sent packing. I have a major say in the Accords now, but if I’m stripped of my status, then the outcome will be different and the whole issue could turn south.” Her voice lowered to a whisper, she added, “We can’t do that to Bruce.”

“Well, what do you propose we do?” Tony asked.

“I don’t know,” she admitted and made a long moment pass wherein she purposefully slowed her progress with the simple task, avoiding eye contact.

“Tasha?” he ventured, tilting his head to the side, prompting her gaze to meet his.

With a defeated sigh, she finished buttoning his shirt then turned to sit down heavily on the bed. “Just... say I’m on a deep cover mission,” she suggested, an earnest note in her quiet voice. “Something that came up last minute, with... implications that extend to global stability. I can’t reveal where I am, what I’m doing or when I’ll be back.” Looking up at him, a little glimmer of hope shone in her eyes. “It’ll swing, don’t you think?”

He graciously remained silent for a moment, as if he were honestly considering supporting her scheme. But, after a sharp intake of breath, his lips curved in a sad ghost of a smile and he came to sit next to her. “You know exactly how it will look if you don’t show.”

“Like I’m resisting.”

“Thunderbolt is only pushing this so he can get the Hulk into government and, ultimately, military custody.” Fixing his gaze on the view of the daylit city out the window, he let his hand rest idly on the space on the bed between them, keeping it open but not insisting. “Let’s not give him another hero to chase. Okay? This isn’t like that time with the Mandarin. We won’t accomplish anything by falling off the face of the earth this time.”

She accepted the wordless invitation, slipping her cold, slender hand into his warmer, much larger hand. “Feels like we landed between the rock and the hard place.”

“We didn’t just land here; we live here,” he amended. “We may not be able to get ourselves out, but we can make a great show of faking it.” Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he stood up, crossed the hotel room and slid the mirrored wardrobe door open; succeeding sounds of clinking hangers and unzipping dress bags told of an earnest search. Speaking a little louder, he continued, “All we have to do is be present in body for one briefing and it’ll all be correspondence from then on.”

Eyebrows knitting in curiosity, Natasha leaned from side to side, trying to glimpse what he was doing. “What are you looking for?” she asked.

“By the time you’re beach ball round, this will all be settled and we’ll be in a little house in the country, painting a nursery and continuing our heated arguments over names.” He selected a jacket and spun around, presenting it with a little more flair than the familiar garment warranted. Slipping it off the hanger, he handed it to her.

She had a thing for jackets; especially soft leather ones. This was one of her old favourites: a navy blue, matte leather jacket; worn to the point of being comfortable whilst retaining just enough rigidity to be smart and sleek.

“You’re not that big yet,” Tony reassured her, returning to the wardrobe to pick a tie. Automatically, he plucked out one the same colour but caught himself, glanced over her and picked one that didn’t match her outfit. “I’ve seen you hide all kinds of gadgets in that jacket and never a lump or bump to give you away. Keep it on, keep it zipped and just try to sit at a table as much as possible; you should be fine.”

“You wouldn’t believe it, but it’s easier to conceal a grappling hook, a parachute and an inflatable raft on your person than a baby the size of a potato,” she commented, shrugging her arms through the sleeves.

“Our baby is not a potato; she is a peach,” he corrected, indignantly, loosely slinging the tie around his neck as he buttoned his cuffs.

She stood and crossed the room to stand before the mirror. “Figures,” she said, needlessly fiddling with the zipper as she hesitated. A lopsided smirk played on her lips. “After all, her father’s a fruitcake.”

The quip sparked a hearty chuckle from her husband. “Remember that one; Bruce will love that one.”

Natasha slowly, almost cautiously, zipped the jacket closed to her sternum and examined her shape in the mirror, tugging and straightening the jacket until she determined it would suffice.

Tony looked her up and down with an exaggerated quizzical expression then nodded in approval. “Problem solved,” he declared and bent to address his unborn daughter again. “You be good for Mommy today and there’s a salmon fillet with lemon sauce in it for you.” He shot a jokingly offended look up to his wife. “This time, I’ll order three.”

She laughed and ruffled her husband’s dark hair, careful to smooth it back into place when he straightened up.

He glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand as he tucked in his shirt. “We better get going,” he said, all banter aside.

“Who’s arriving first? You or me?”

“You,” Tony answered, retrieving his own jacket from its draped position on an armchair. “If I have to wait for you to arrive, I’ll worry that something’s happened and give it all away.”

“I worry about you, too,” his wife admitted, helping him with the tie he had neglected.

“Yes, but only I know that,” he told her, punctuating his statement with a light kiss to her cheek, drawing a loving smile on her ruby red lips.

. . . . .

More stories I’ve written…

[who-is-page]

I don't know why this Anon is lying about me but. I actually do have some college-level training regarding data science and data analysis-- I just don't consider myself a data scientist or data analyst because I've only got a minor out of my relevant classes on it from college. Those aren't titles I feel confident in claiming, and I do my best to shy away from implying them when I can. With that said though, I do get where this criticism is coming from.

Rest assured, I did have my nesting partner, who has had their research academically published and has significantly more training than me, help with the Abnormal Instincts survey, precisely in order to avoid this pitfall of my own inexperience. In addition to having my nesting partner assist with building the survey, the survey that all y'all filled out wasn't the final draft: it went through multiple iterations of individuals I trust and who also have experience either making or taking surveys looking over it. So even if it wasn't IRB certified (which I believe is what anon meant to say), it was peer-reviewed in the most literal sense.

I've also brought my findings and survey to respected individuals in my field when inquiring the best way to work with the data. It's been met with enthusiasm and interest, an encouragement to get published, and lots of words of advice on how best to utilize the survey. One retired professor and doctor of religion even volunteered to vouch for my grad school applications after seeing it, which really meant a lot to me. Even if my Abnormal Instincts survey and my other past surveys are unpolished and unprofessional like anon is lying to try and make them out to be, it's obviously got enough in it to be worthwhile to others in my field and in my community.

(But outside of those valid criticisms I addressed, I'm not sure how Anon can argue I'm touting it around like gospel when the brief presentation on less than half of the survey results has publicly been out for two weeks. Cry me a river, build me a bridge, and get over it, my man.)

I'm also gonna take this moment to hop upon this little "popufur" or "kinfluencer" stool that Anon has ever so graciously insisted I have, to say: even if you aren't a data scientist or data analyst, that doesn't mean you can't do amazing work in the alterhuman community and host your own survey or questionnaire.

Take A Field Guide to Otherkin as possibly the greatest example of what I'm talking about. The survey that Lupa conducted wasn't lovingly hand-crafted by someone with a doctorate in data analysis, put through an ethics board, and then run through SPSS when it was all finished and done: it was dug from the ground-up by Lupa, who doesn't have any formal experience in data that I'm aware of, advertised throughout the community by word of mouth and her own efforts, and then utilized to make an extremely relevant book that we still reference back to today.

Well-written surveys and questionnaires hosted in the community, about the community, offer valuable glimpses into our own experiences and narratives that far surpass anything we often see formally published by non-alterhumans. It functions as not only a time capsule for us to look back on in ten, twenty years to compare rhetoric and focus of then vs. now, it also helps us better broaden our perspectives on topics we may not have had any information or opinions on prior.

Y'all already know I wrote an essay about this last year that I published on my website, "On Surveys" if you want to hunt it down, but I really cannot emphasize enough how both important and accessible these forms of data-gathering are. I'm not encouraging you to go at it all willy-nilly and start pushing out as many first-draft surveys as humanly possible here, but I also don't want people to see rhetoric like anon's and feel completely discouraged from delving into a topic they're curious or passionate about. It's work to make a survey, but it's doable. If you feel inclined and inspired, you can do it.

I'm no greymuzzle, even despite Anon's insistence at my make-believe "popularity," but I'd still be happy to help anyone who is completely stuck and doesn't know where to go, how to start, or just wants a second eye on their work.

[recurring-polynya]

Writing Update/Art Update 5/9/2023

Many things happened last week. Not very many of them were drawing. I'll get back to that.

I have finally started posting the big (it's not really big. Medium-big. It just felt big) fanfic that I have working on for most of the year. You can start here if you want to read it, Chapters 1-3 are currently available.

I finished the smut. I had mostly finished it by Friday, but then we had a belated-because-we-were-waiting-for-spring-weather backyard birthday party for my daughter this past weekend, so I had to spend a solid 48 hours in the paralyzing deathgrip of anxiety at the prospect of socializing with people I don't know (the parents of some of my daughter's classmates), so I didn't get much of anything else done, although I did clean my house and buy a bunch of hot dogs.

I only got one doodle done this week, which took me three days, spread out over the anxiety deathgrip, but I'm pretty pleased with how it came out. I really would like to start on a more serious project this week, but I may get back to them, we'll see how it goes. I do want to thank everyone who sent in prompts, and I'm sorry I haven't gotten to more of them. Turns out I'm real bad at doing quick, fast-turnaround doodles! Is anyone surprised??

After that, like, I said, I finished up the porno. I was hoping to post it yesterday, but it was pretty late at night by the time I finished my editing sweep. Today was a go places posting day and I didn't really want to post two different fanfics in one day, plus I had made kind of a lot of edits, so I figured it wouldn't hurt to let it sit a day and then do another sweep before posting. In other words, tomorrow, probably.

This morning, I re-read what I've gotten written so far of Ductwork, which is the working title of the next story in the Heart is a Muscle. It's 7707 words at the moment, and I get hot mad every time I read it because I want there to be more of it, and unfortunately, there is only one way to make that happen. But it's gonna!! I keep telling myself that it was really worthwhile to have taken the time to write go places first, because Ductwork is largely about Rukia and Renji finally digging down into a lot of festering insecurities from that time in their afterlives. I have a couple different approaches to writing these days, and I'm gonna try to do the thing that ended up working for go places, which is 1) try to write something every day, 2) chronological schmonological, write whatever I can possibily come up with, I'll just cram it all together at the end, this was very fun and easy last time and definitely did not take six drafts and a color-coded spreadsheet. Based on past experience, I do not think I am going to be able to power through to completion, so my goal is to add at least 20k words to the thing before I flame out in a blaze of beautiful depression and spend the rest of the summer on something insane, like bringing back the Soul Society Tattoo Artist AU. My overall prediction is that it will be around 60k, but I'm not discounting the possibility that it could be another 100k-er. (it better not go over 120k tho, I will die for real)

Anyway, that was my week! Whew!

[actioncatmusic]

So I’m trying to follow the advice of successful authors to write every single day. I set my daily goal at 1k-3k words per day, and I stop anywhere within that range as soon as my writing quality starts to diminish from any mental exhaustion.

I started the second draft of my novel (a companion to a punk/rock concept album I’ve been working on over the last couple years) on Wednesday. I’ve made sure to work on the book on all 6 days so far. Wednesday through Monday. This will say I posted it on Tuesday, but that’s because I haven’t gone to sleep yet. 🙃 I made sure to write a minimum of 1k words each day. If I reach 1k that’s a decent day, 2k is a good day, and 3k is a great day. I only hit 3k once, Monday night, where I got sucked into the story and wrote a ridiculous 3,598 words, after which I stopped, despite only being a couple pages away from the end of the chapter. I really wanted to just finish the chapter, but I had promised myself I would stay within a limit, and so I did. There were two days where I found it difficult to get to 1k words, and it took me almost just as long to get to 1300 as it had taken me to get to 3k today. Everyday was a little different, depending on the difficulty I was having with different sections/scenes/chapters in this story. I’ve been stopping anywhere within a scene or chapter once I decide I’m too tired to write as well. I’ve found it fairly easy to pick up from wherever I left off the previous day, so no need to push myself past my limits unnecessarily just to finish any particular section.

Results so far are 14,493 words written in 6 days. I worked anywhere from 2 hours most days, to 4-6 hours on the few days I had written over 2k words in a sitting, typing 10wpm at the slowest (lots of pauses) to 50wpm at the fastest (this speed was rare tbh). Not only is my weekly word count very high from following this advice, but I’ve also seen greater improvement than expected in prose, descriptive detailing, and dialogue within my story. I’ve never felt so proud of my writing before.

I do admittedly write fast. I averaged 4K-8kwpd when writing the first draft, as I was focused on getting the story into the real world, not on making it good. But I would often only write 1-2 days per week, and sometimes take weeks or months off between bouts of writing. It was very clearly unsustainable. I had gone full pantser as well for the first draft. I don’t think that kind of writing speed would be possible if I were following a proper outline. The point of putting myself into a 1k-3k limit was to make writing daily a more obtainable goal, and to give myself more time to really get deep into the story while I write.

A daily writing goal doesn’t have to be a minimum of 1k words either. At 300 words per day, a person would still complete a 50k word novel in 6 months, and they would see improvement in their writing over time from all of that beautiful daily practice.

So yeah, when the top authors in the world keep giving us the advice of “write everyday no matter what,” when we ask how to become better writers, they’re not fucking around. It really does work, and the good results are quick to present themselves. I highly recommend giving it a shot.

[basalamander-corner]

Camp NaNoWriMo Week 3 Progress

The first two weeks went by smoothly, and I reached the halfway point of my goal yesterday, which is awesome! Unfortunately, I didn't finish part 2 yet, as it's shaping up to be a bit longer than I expected it to. Regardless, progress is still progress!

Project Name: The Shifting Tides (side blog is @the-shifting-tides-wip)

Goal: 30k words

Tagline: Sometimes we must fight for a future we ourselves cannot see.

Genres: Fantasy, LGBT+, Romance, Adventure, Young Adult

Week 3 progress under the cut!

Day 15

Words typed: 533

Total words: 15,796

Times updated: 2

Although I updated twice today, I didn't write very much. Regardless, I'm still at my word count goal for today! The voyage has finally brought Saran and co. to the island, and hopefully in a few chapters we'll get to the main plot!

Day 16

Words typed: 1,177

Total words: 16,973

Times updated: 1

Woohoo! I skipped around a little from here (because that's my writing process, lol) and got to one of the more pivotal events of this draft. Specifically, the following line:

And in a single, fluid motion, the lepinl surged forward, skewering Saran with their massive horns.

I'll go back to write part 2 at a later date. Maybe not this month, but I'll have to finish it eventually.

Day 17

Words typed: 999

Total words: 17,972

Times updated: 1

Yo! I typed a pretty cool number today, exactly one away from 1k! I probably could have made it into 1k if I really wanted to, but honestly I was getting tired. I started writing at 10:30pm and finished just before midnight, so I honestly needed the break!

Day 18

Words typed: 181

Total words: 18,153

Times updated: 1

I'm hoping this will be the lowest number I type for this project. I've been really burnt out even though we're so close to being done! I think it has more to do with my recital coming up and the fact that I'm overwhelmed with schoolwork more than my draft, though.

Day 19

Words typed: 1,149

Total words: 19,302

Times updated: 1

I thought yesterday was a fluke, and it looks like I was right! I managed to write over 1k words in one sitting today (and that sitting lasted about an hour), so I feel really good about it. I just finished one of the most heartbreaking scenes in this draft so far, and I'm loving how much I've tortured Saran. This next scene will help move forward his relationship with Viridian, and I'm hoping to get to their first "awkwardly romantic" scene at some point!

Day 20

Words typed: 989

Total words: 20,291

Times updated: 1

Viridian and Saran's relationship is very rocky at the moment. Viridian has discovered that Saran is actually a holindal, and he's not sure how to feel! He thinks Saran is about to kill him, although Saran tries to convince him he won't actually do that. It's going to take a little while before they can learn to trust each other...

Day 21

Words typed: 1,124

Total words: 21,415

Times updated: 2

Although it won't be this way on the NaNo website, I actually updated twice today! Once during class (I know, I should have been focusing!) and once later at night. I did skip around a little because the inspiration for the current chapter wasn't hitting me, but that doesn't matter!

There's only 9 days left, a little over a week! I can't believe I've made it this far, and I hope I can continue updating daily!

@the-wip-project

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

Trainwreck (OC fiction) - Part 1

This is just a little something-something that i wrote for myself. It's not finished yet (even though I started drafting this idea in 2018) but I have fun getting back to writing more again, and so this work is finally born.

It's not a fanfic, feel free to ignore if it's not your thing.

Boy x Girl, not mature in anyway, an ode to falling in love, however briefly, with strangers

4.5k words

MASTERLIST

>>> Part 2

(If you need a little push imagination-wise, here's what I pictured the boy to look like)

As far as her memory went, Jo couldn’t recall the last time she’d had such an awful day. It started off with a nice, good nosebleed at seven in the morning, followed by the light bulb frying off when she tried to turn on her lamp to grab a tissue and stop the bleeding. After changing the bedsheets and putting the bloody ones in the washer, she was running late. She ripped her favorite tights when she hastily put them on, and she had to go for a pair of jeans instead of the skirt she planned to wear.

Eventually, when her rough beginning of the day was over – or so she thought – she walked to the train station, only to find out that her train was twenty minutes late. Not that delayed trains were a rare thing, but today really got its place in Jo’s top five worst days when it started pouring rain, drenching her to the bones before she even had a chance to pull her umbrella out of her bag. And truthfully, at this point, was it even worth it to open it? She was late, wet, cold, and couldn’t imagine there was anything in the world that could salvage today.

            She sighed, and still pulled out the umbrella. How stupid would she look if she’d just stood in the pouring rain, umbrella closed in her hand?

            Now there she was, standing stiffly along the rails, waiting in a late-November rainstorm, pondering the pros and cons of jumping in front of the train. A girl can only endure so much. Jo was no exception, which was why she stood there, lips pursed and face adorned with her award-winning resting bitch face to keep away any potential old lady who’d want to chat her up about how it’s a shame that trains are always late.

            In the rush, she didn’t grab her gloves and when she noticed the tip of her fingers turning blue, she painstakingly wiggled one into the small pocket of her jeans – the other one was holding the umbrella, unfortunately. It didn’t do any good, causing her to grumble to herself, wondering if today’s classes were worth so much trouble or if she should just head back to her apartment and not leave the coziness of her feather duvet until the end of the week. It was only Tuesday and already Jo couldn’t wait for the much-needed week-end to finally start.

            In order to keep herself busy for the next fifteen minutes, she put on her earphones and some blasted the loudest, most angry music she had downloaded on her Spotify, something that reflected accurately her current mood – and once again, she cursed silently the world. She really wished she had chosen to take her car today – parking was always a hassle but by God, she would give anything to be sitting her dry, warm car, mindlessly singing along to the lyrics. She obviously couldn’t do that here, there were other persons around her waiting for their train, and she wasn’t a nut job.

            After what seemed like an eternity, the train arrived in the station, and when the engine finally arrived to a stop, a few feet away from where she stood, shaking from head to toe from the biting wind, she could have cried.

Suddenly, everybody rushed towards the opening doors, eager to escape from the downpour and find shelter in the train. In the mayhem, somebody bumped into Jo’s shoulder, causing her bag to drop down into her elbow and making her let go of her umbrella.

            A gasp of surprise and yet another groan fell from her lips as she quickly put her bag back on her shoulder and knelt down to pick up her umbrella and close it so she could enter the train. Jo looked up to see who the culprit was, ready to lash out because today of all days wasn’t a good time to not apologize to her. She froze dead in her tracks.

A single glance at the boy standing before her eyes made her swallow back whatever she was going to say – and almost stumble back and trip on her own feet. His blue grayish stare took her aback, and he mouthed a swift ‘sorry’ along with an apologetic look – but was truly caught her attention was the fact that he only had one eye fully open. Before she could take her rudeness further, the familiar whistle signaling the doors closing was heard. He turned around to go take a seat, and the spell was broken.

            Still a bit unnerved by the peculiarity of this boy’s captivating single eye, Jo mindlessly made her way down the alley and sat down as far away from other people as possible, shrugging off her coat and carefully putting her dripping umbrella on the floor. After shoving her scarf in her bag, she took out a book and started digging to search for her glasses aggressively pushing stuff out of her way, but finding nothing.

“You gotta be fucking kiddin’ me!” she whisper-shouted to herself. The only thing that could have made this day worse just happened. Her hands flew up in defeat and she leaned back, seriously considering jumping off the bandwagon. Short of finding a five hundred dollars bill on the floor, this day was definitely ruined.

She opened her book regardless, determined to get a few pages in, even though it would be particularly tiring to read without her glasses. Jo furiously flipped the pages until she reached her bookmark, letting out all of her frustration on that poor book. Aside from her issues seeing the words on the pages, Jo’s reading was greatly disrupted by the fact that her mind kept drifting back to this guy’s unearthly eye color – and she couldn’t help being intrigued by his other eye, the one that didn’t open all the way up.

She felt uneasy and somewhat ashamed that it was so big of a deal for her – as if she should have noticed him for something else, anything else than his ill eye. This whole ‘one eye’ thing had her brain upside down and she wondered whether or not it was normal to be this interested in some stranger’s condition. Maybe ‘normal’ wasn’t the right word, but it was human. Most people would probably look away as quickly as they could, as if voiding eye contact would prevent contagion as if it was actually contagious. Then, they’d pass it off as politeness. It’s rude to stare.

Well, it is. But at least she didn’t pretend she didn’t see it. It’s right there, in the middle of his face. Wouldn’t it be worse to ignore it? Was she overthinking this?

            He must receive so many indiscreet stares… Jo felt a surge of embarrassment heat up her face when she realized how she had looked at him when their eyes met. A sudden urge to smash her face in the seat before her overwhelmed her. On the other hand, she wasn’t expecting that, so it was understandable to be surprised, right? Anyway, now that the unfortunate meeting was history, she could let her mind wander a bit, that wouldn’t hurt no one.

            What happened to him? A disease? A physical trauma? Just some dust in his eye? Did he still see with that eye? She’ll most definitely never get answers to her questions, but she couldn’t help but wonder. She was a curious one, and sometimes she overstepped her boundaries when she really wanted to know something – although in this case, she might think twice about it, because speaking to attractive boys wasn’t exactly her forte.

            This reminded her of sixth grade when she had a crush on this boy, Adrian, because he had this accident in PE and ended up having an arm-brace for a few months. Later on, when Jo mentioned this childhood crush to her friends – because once you are over twenty, sixth grade is labeled as childhood – they teased her about it, saying that she was the ‘mom’ kind of girlfriend. The type of girls that only go for guys who could potentially need them, as if tending to their wounds – physical or emotional – would make them win their affection.

            This really is a thing. At the time, Jo laughed it off with her friends before changing the subject, but when she came home, she took the time to cogitate a bit, and she realized just how accurate her friends were. But going after the broken ones wasn’t a sport, and Jo couldn’t help how she felt, and for lack of a better word she was drawn to vulnerable people.

            Before taking her reflection too far down that slippery slope, she shook her head to chase away those parasite thoughts. She abruptly closed her book single handedly with a loud thud, causing the few people sharing the wagon to look up from whatever they were doing to seek out the source of the disturbance. The sudden attention brought to her made her face heat up and she knew she was red as a ripe cherry.

In an attempt to escape those prying eyes judging her for troubling the religious silence reigning in the wagon, Jo desperately searched for some place she could set her eyes on. Finally, her face cooled down and she relaxed in her seat, wondering what she'd do in class today without her glasses. But once again her train of thoughts was interrupted by the feeling of somebody looking at her.

Everybody knows the unsettling feeling of having a stare so intense directed to you that you could physically sense it, as tangible as the touch of a hand against one's cheek. Darting her gaze around to find the source of the disturbance, Jo frowned her brows, wondering if maybe someone she knew was on board and recognized her. But she didn't recall seeing any familiar faces when she waited at the train station. Eventually, she found what she was looking for. Once again, her cheeks flushed a bright pink and it was suddenly extremely hot in here, especially when the boy from before stared a hole through her head - Jo couldn't fathom how intense his gaze would be if both his eyes were fully open.

For a good five seconds, their eyes were locked and the girl wondered what would be more awkward: looking away with the blush obvious on her cheeks or supporting his stare, at the risk of freaking him out. In the end she decided it was safer to look away because she didn't trust herself to uphold his gaze any longer.

When she looked down to her lap, a wave of regret washed over her - what if he thought she looked at him because of his eye? Of course, it was the truth in a way, although there was much more to him than his sight issues. Indeed the 'boy' must be around her age, maybe a little older but not by much. His valid eye was a light shade of ice blue, piercing with intensity and he seemed not at all bothered by his other eye. His dirty blond hair was stylishly put back and tamed in a way that Jo couldn't even dream to achieve with her own long, inconvenient hair. He had one of these noses which you want to boop and had a nice curved slope. His lips were full and sharp and gave his face a slight femininity that suited him and graced him with a certain fragile charm. He harbored the same uniqueness and delicacy as snowflakes, without losing any of his male beauty.

If she hadn't already drawn enough attention to her, Jo would have face palmed herself for looking away. She felt as though she had missed her chance with this guy even though there was nothing there to begin with, and she certainly had no intention of hitting on him.

She didn’t.

He managed to intrigue her, beyond the physical peculiarity there was something edgy and elusive about him. He was sitting rather far away from where she was but he was just in her line of sight. When she dared to peek between the seats in front of her to see him again, he was staring out the window. He couldn't see her at all because she was on the side of his bad eye. It allowed her to take a better look - although blurry because of the absence of glasses on her nose - at the droopy eye. It wasn't completely closed, it was more like he couldn't open it and it remained oddly narrowed, resulting in a lazy stare. The contrast with his other eye was mainly due to his eye color though, and Jo wished he would look her way again. This made her shake her head again because what in God's name would make her want to confront his stare again? First of all, she would probably look away as she did before and then-

He was simply too handsome for her own good. At this point, she figured she maybe should’ve thanked him for bumping into her. He looked so put-together, so clean and sleek – not at all like someone who had braved the rain to catch a train-ride. This only reminded her that she, in fact, did not possess such grace, and currently looked like a drowned dog. Felt like it, too.

She was one to go weak in the knees when she had to talk to an attractive person and ended up stuttering out some idiotic sentence which would later feed on her esprit de l'escalier. This guy though, had a magnetic effect on her, despite the fear of being caught red-handed eying him - for the second time! Suddenly his eye left the landscape to focus back on the inside of the train, apparently with the intention of finding her eyes because he locked his gaze right with hers. This time the awkwardness was gone. The unease was replaced by a sort of calm curiosity from both parts - they were studying each other. Jo was overwhelmed with the strange impression that the outcome of this staring contest had a lot more at stake than what it seemed. Her heart missed a beat when the corner of his mouth curved up a little. He was smirking at her, and before her brain had the time to process what was happening, she felt her own lips curl into a faint smile, returning the silent address.

And in that exact moment, she realized just how screwed she was, because she knew this strange boy was the new object of her wavering affection, and hopefully, she’d get over this instant crush by the end of the day.

How fucking wrong she was.

*

            The following week was even more stressful than the last one, though this time she arrived ten minutes early – just in case, not at all because she hoped to see the guy again. Jo stomped as if angry at the whole world and paced around the platform like a caged lion. At some point she had to stop because this old lady was giving her a judgmental look while clutching at her small flower pattern tote bag, as if she thought Jo was some kind of drug addict who needed her fix and was about to jump to her throat, teeth out, foam dripping down her chin.

            All this because she couldn’t stay still. The girl huffed and stopped walking. Before pulling her tights up, she made sure no one was looking her way, and she also quickly checked her hair in the nearest window. Her makeup hardly hid the dark circles adorning her face, but she did as well as she could. Her hair kept flying in her face because of the wind and she constantly had to pull it back with one hand, while the other one was on the hem of her dress to keep it down and make sure it wouldn’t go all Marilyn Monroe on her. After five minutes of this game, Jo groaned and forcefully closed her coat, crossing her arms over her chest and blowing air upwards to chase her hair out of her face. A small laughter erupted from behind her.

            She spun on her heels to see who was making fun of her distress and immediately felt her face fire up again. Of course, it was him. But how long had he been? How long had he watched her struggle with her hair and outfit? Jo was overwhelmed with the urge to dig a hole and crawl in it to die. Well… at least it didn’t rain this time.

“What are you laughing at?” she snapped, mentally scolding herself for being rude, although it wasn’t very nice of him to mock her either. The first wave of guilt vanished pretty quickly and the girl applauded herself for not just blushing and looking away like a schoolgirl. It was his fault; he shouldn’t have laughed.

“Comfort being sacrificed on the altar of beauty,” he stated enigmatically, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. Jo’s mouth fell agape, and he looked proud to have her at loss for words, yet when she processed what he told her and finally went to answer him, he suddenly strode away, as if shying away from the conversation.

            The underlying compliment in his sentence had her confused and a tab bit flustered, but she inwardly slapped herself to regain her senses and do something. God, he said something to her – he didn’t have to but he did – she couldn’t just let the conversation stop there. Even though she wasn’t sure this exchange deserved to be called a conversation.

            When she was about to follow him and speak up again, she was interrupted by the honk of the train. After that the small gathering of people waiting there started moving towards the deck, waiting for the complete stop of the engine. Her timing was so bad Jo actually considered having offended whatever superior power there was, because this much bad luck couldn’t be natural, or coincidental. She went with the flow and followed the other people inside, a bit disappointed that she lost sight of him so quickly.

            However, as soon as she got inside, she spotted the boy and pondered the pros and cons of making a bold move like sitting next to him, despite of the many, many empty seats around him. If she thought about it too long, she’d back down. Before changing her mind, she bee-lined towards him, almost tripping over some rogue luggage on her way down the alley, but quickly reaching the empty seat.

When she arrived, there was his bag on it.

“May I?” Jo asked, her voice unsure but at least not stuttering. He looked up, startled but trying not to be rude and automatically nodding his head, but not giving any sign of removing the bag from the seat. “-unless you want to be alone?” she asked, her eyes switching between him and the seat.

            She would have sworn he blushed, but he took the bag and turned to the window before she could see for good. Jo sat down, a bit too slowly not to make it awkward, but it was so obvious that he agreed just because she took him aback that she hesitated a second. If he kept acting like this, the next thirty minutes were going to be incredibly uncomfortable. For the first five minutes, it felt to her that he was doing everything he could to avoid eye contact. It was stupid though, wasn’t it? They already had made eye contact earlier, and last week.

“What’s your name?” she blurted out, ignoring all and any social conventions. Maybe she should have opened up with her own name first. Too late for that now though – God, she should not be allowed out in public.

            The stranger turned to face her, once again speechless as he stared at her – probably regretting letting a weird girl who kept staring at him sit with him. His valid eye was wide open as the other remained half closed, barely opened and still. There was surprise painted all over his graciously flawed face and his lips fell open as he continued to soak up the details of her face.

Jo had dark brown eyes, one of those straight and pointy noses with a beauty spot on the bridge of her nose and a mouth that was made to smile. Her hair was a mess still, but she was a pretty girl, in a wild sort of way.

“You know, if I didn’t hear you speak before, I’d think you’re mute,” she suddenly told him, raising an amused eyebrow. This had the effect of relaxing him slightly, and when she saw the tension leave his jaw, she smiled.

“Sorry,” he felt the need to apologize. This one word sent shivers down her spine. That voice.

“I’m Joyce. Jo for short.” Her smile widened even more and he didn’t know what to do.

“Roman,” he managed to voice, swallowing the lump in his throat. “You’re the girl from last week?”

Jo invoked all of her self-control not to blush. “That would be me.” She nodded, not looking down in her lap now. At least that was out of the way, she thought.

This was about as awkward as it could get, and the tension between them was so thick Jo actually considered taking out a knife – not that she carried one with her – and cut through it. She knew he was aware of it too, but neither of them knew what to do about it. Last week’s playful smirk he shot her was a much better start than this conversation which led them nowhere. Although, Jo suspected she knew where the unusual awkwardness came from. She was more than capable of making friends with ease, so there had to be more to it than just a bit of shyness. It had to be his eye. Was he self-conscious?

Within a second, she had made her decision, and before giving it a second thought, she blurted out, “Ptosis of the eyelid[1], right?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, his eye almost popping out. If he wasn’t sitting at the window, she was sure he’d run away as fast as light speed.

“I figured I might as well talk about the elephant in the room. It would be even ruder of me to pretend I don’t notice, wouldn’t it?” she reasoned, progressively making his confused and shocked frown disappear. “And just to make it clear, I’m not sitting here out of morbid curiosity.”

“Then why?” he replied, giving her a suspicious look.

            Because you’re handsome, and you smirked while looking at me, and I have knots in my stomach right now because of how nervous I am.

“Do I need a reason?” she said.

“If I say yes, would you tell me the truth?” he answered her question with another one. His brows shot up, causing a wrinkle to draw on his forehead. She nodded. “Then yes.”

“I think you’re attractive.” There, she said it. Dammit. If she ever told her friends about this, they’d all squeal so high-pitched she’d go deaf instantly. Jo wasn’t known to be so bold.

            The stranger’s face suddenly flushed red and he blinked and turned to the window to avoid her gaze before saying, “Well, that was straightforward. But I asked for honesty so I’m not complaining.”

“You look surprised,” she stated. It sort of felt like she was in control of the conversation at this point, and she enjoyed the feeling. His eye went back to her, and this time he was smiling too – though it was discrete.

“It’s not every day that a pretty girl hits on me so boldly,” he simply answered. But it was the second time today that he complimented her indirectly, and this time she wasn’t going to let it go away. For some odd reason, she was drawn to him in a way she had never experienced before. He was there, at arm length and she wanted to reach out and touch him – and only her common sense prevented her from doing so.

            Putting her bag under her seat, Jo brought her left leg up and over her right, putting herself more at ease. This particular show of relaxation gave Roman confidence and he ditched the landscape to focus back on her, with a boyish grin plastered on his pale face, his one opened blue eye piercing right through her.

“You could have spoken to me last week. You don’t strike me as a shy person,” he said. “After all, you did come today.” He also crossed his legs, placing his left ankle on his right knee, and fiddling with his shoe laces.

“Oh no, last week I couldn’t. Even today, I always didn’t. I’m not used to this, what I figured, what did I have to lose?” The girl shrugged, telling him the truth. He was slowly warming up at her and this was a good thing if they intended to flirt during the whole ride.

“What indeed,” he said distractedly, slightly biting on his lower lip. Jo saw his Adam’s apple go up and down as he swallowed nervously.

“My ego might have been a little wounded if you told me to sit somewhere else, and I probably wouldn't have approached a guy again for the next fifteen years of my life,” she dramatized and made a funny face to make him laugh. “But aside from that, I thought it was worth a shot.”

“I am honored that you deemed my company worth the risk,” he joked, playing along. “If you don’t mind me asking, why exactly, couldn’t you speak to me last week?”

            Jo sighed a long sigh.

“I was on a massive streak of bad luck last week. If I’d so much as tried to walk past your seat, the train would have abruptly pulled the brakes, and I’d have fallen right into your lap or something ridiculous like that.”

            Now Roman laughed a little louder, visibly not having expected this explanation. He threw his head back a little, and Jo’s chest flare up with pride at having made him laugh.

“I don’t know what I expected but it wasn’t that,” he eventually said. “Did you rehearse this conversation beforehand? I feel… sort of- unprepared compared to you.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, you’re doing great,” she reassured him, going as far as gently bumping her shoulder against his.

            She regretted it almost right away, wondering if she was going too far with this virtual stranger. They met minutes ago and she was already cozying up to him, maybe he would find it weird.

            He didn’t seem to mind, though.

“So-“ he began. “Tell me, where are you going every Tuesday with the 9a.m. train?”

[1] Disease that causes the eyelids to drop (one of them or both), making it difficult or impossible to open the eye completely.

[blahandwhatever]

It's been forever since I went through and published old drafts, and today I finally got the urge. Ended up spending longer down that rabbit hole than I expected, but I'd been meaning to finish posting the stuff I wanted to from those years forever, and, like the picture blog, it does give me some sense of closure.

Here are 20 for now, from 2014-2018:

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740721299030228992/the-lines-are-beginning-to-soften-again-as-is-the

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740723553245200384/what-are-we-really-what-is-it-all-about

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740724203798528000/faith

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740725426585010176/yeah-2015

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740726241665122304/i-am-hovering

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740727340047499264/oh-florence

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740750946908422144/market-research

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740730762375086080/internet-winslosses

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740733268008304640/too-late

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740734612975861760/i-wind-around-from-town-to-town-neighborhood-to

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740735233092124672/when-it-comes-to-your-brain-fiction-and-reality

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740737240836243456/another-little-day

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740749450591535104/one-minute-until-everybodys-estimated-return

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740752195292643328/last-week-tonight

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740752658625904640/there-are-certain-kinds-of-beauty-comfort-and

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740753200511172608/goodbye-lenovo-ideapad-u430-touch-hello-samsung

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740753401754812416/i-just-spent-way-too-much-time-working-on-this

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740754058832478208/bah

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740754955184586752/i-opened-my-journal-the-long-intricate

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740755786086629376/weird-feelings

And here's more, up until my move:

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740809769555836928/there-is-only-one-god-and-his-name-is-sushi

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740810230753116160/dead-inside-motherfuckers

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740810541102170112/things-i-want-to-do-go-to-the-library-get-some

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740810947208282112/things-i-miss

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740811119513485312/it-never-ceases-to-mystify-me-how-easy-it-is-to

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740811439301918720/fall-always-feels-like-the-beginning-it-always

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740811906937421824/having-money-feels-weird-its-good-for-the-most

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740820418225684480/sometimes-im-amazed-by-how-much-pain-i-still-have

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740819599066562560/i-dont-want-to-be-alone-forever-not-really-but

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740821638582566912/my-very-special-critique-of-bohemian-rhapsody

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740822300677505024/my-father-is-a-master-at-subtly-embedding

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740822727479410688/holy-moly-is-custom-framing-expensive-i-bought

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740822948669243392/theres-lots-of-things-i-like-lots-of-things-i

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740823102135631872/slightly-extravagant-things-i-might-do-if-i-were

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740823338656595968/faq

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740824532128088064/in-and-out-of-rainbows

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740828610768863232/brain-fart-of-day-spice-up-a-headline-10x-by

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740829438754881536/the-final-countdown

https://blahandwhatever.tumblr.com/post/740829691938832384/credit-scores-are-all-over-the-place-as

Think that'll do for now! I left things sitting unfinished or just unpublished in drafts much more in Naperville than I have since.

[ickmick]

Inktober days 16-25

hi!! small scheduling thing I wanna say before we get into it!! if you just wanna see the art you can skip to under the cut!! where it says 'keep reading'!!

Im posting 10 (thats right, ten!) drawings today, and 5 tomorrow!! (hopefully!) that way, I can just post one final drawing on Halloween!! I didn't fully think this schedule out tbh... but thats okay! I think this'll work fine, Im just ensuring you all know :D

as for how I'll post after October... we'll have to see!! I *might* do novelember! but I also might instead of daily prompts combine them into one per week or generally do less, just because I can't write as fast as I draw! (glances at my finished but unposted scarian pt 2.... so maybe i can write fast but it takes a bit to be satisfied with it....) /silly

so I hope to see you again tomorrow and then on Halloween! enjoy!

(heres week one, week two, and week threes posts!)

I'll only list the prompts I used that day, but here's the key for acronyms n such;

wh = welcome home

hc = hermitcraft (I have 2!)

ink = official inktober

gore = goretober

(actual gore will be triggerwarned! so far none has any blood or violence!)

Day 16

ink: angel

life: yellow life

ehehehe... yes me drawing a scene from something I havent even posted LSVSJSVSK- but uh!! first time drawing ren!! yippee!!

Day 17

life: time

gore: plant growth

ink: demon

yes me planning out a little 4 panel angsty thing because the life series has my heart... and then cleo and tango!! I want to draw cleo in full one of these days...

Day 18

hc: meme

life: horse

the horse curse!! poor scar... not even a peaceful dinner pffft

Day 19

wh: bakery

hc: action pose

last year I drew/painted scar and grian baking halloween cookies on my sketchbook, so this is sort of a homage to that! I never posted it because it never got finished... but it was a bit silly too!

Day 20

wh: siblings

ink: frost

pearl and grian as siblings make my heart happy <3

also some subtle tango and grian shipping!! these are both silly drawings, but they were fun!!

Day 21

hc: hermit w/ a mob

grian and the sniffer are having a little mimir... and jelly and scar are hanging out too :D

Day 22

hc: star

life: wolf

I dont remember when/which life series this would refer to... but wolf pearl is cool!! (and of course we have miss ariana griande!!

Day 23

life: ocean

ink: crystals

the second one is actually a slight reference to this GIG(G)S phasmo fic! go check it out, its great! its a chat fic, and it still has a really good plot and interactions! :D

Day 24

life: canary

first time drawing jimmy!! the canary!! but also the sheriff!! I saw something on tumblr a while ago where hes literally like a little bjd (ball joint doll, I think!) and I think thats really cute! I fudged the proportions on that middle drawing, but thats okay lol

Day 25

hc: fullbody / celestial (sort of!)

I love this one the most I think- at least from this batch! watcher grian has always been something I love even though I havent seen Evo... and it was fun to play around with wing placement! and the pose was fun :3

my app crashed while I was drafting this so im sorry if anything seems stiff or rushed TwT

I had to rewrite it all! makes it feel like energetic I think... oh well...

anyways!! theres all of them for now!! I'll try to post 26-30 tomorrow... we'll see how many I actually post, but I will post tomorrow!! see you then!! 💜

heres week 5.1's post, and the last one (5.2) :D