#I like drawing my characters sleeping because it feels like I'm doing them a favor granting them a little respite

[canisalbus]

Vasco and Machete are absolutely adorable, your style is so lovely and you draw the softest beds I’ve ever seen in any art ever

.

[tonberry-yoda]

Hello! I would love a MHA match up for the Mystery Date event! <3

I'm a pansexual cis-girl who goes by she/her pronuns!

I am a very affectionate girl who wants needs to let know everyone that they are loved and cared for ^^ I am the mother friend of the group and I love to take care of others, I just love to make everyone happy! (without forgetting my own happiness ofc 😌)

Leaving my caring part aside I am very active and I LOVE the feel of the adrenaline, I am this kind of person who just jumps on every roller coaster in a 5km radious. That also means that I love strong emotions, and that comes to strong activities, I would love to go bungee jumping or skydiving one day.

I dress in grunge style, I adore all the dark colours and aesthetic of the clothes under that name <3 I have to say that I dress grunge but still colorful! like, all the base of my outfit is black but then you see 7 bracelets of different colors forming a rainbow of bracelets in my wrist or a pair of rainbow clips in my hair.

I also love cozy and warm activities, like sitting with my partner in front of the television curled up in blankets inside of a pillow fort, sleeping together inside a cute pink tent installed in a corner of my room, doing skin-care routines or even my favorite one, brush each other's hair!!

My music tastes are very variate but my playlist is almost overshadowed by Marina and the Diamonds, Mitski, and Hombres G (a very good Spanish band <3).

My love language is physical touch, as you can see in what I've written before I'm a very cuddly and physical person who loves to share her love in hugs, kisses, acts like holding hands and all that cute things ^^ But I also love giving gifts!! And by gifts I mean from something shiny that I've found and that reminds me of my partner, from drawings I've made myself (because I live for drawing ^^), playlist dedicated to my partner, and handmade sweets or pastries to something I heard they wanted and bought them in the store <3

-with love, from 🇪🇸Anon. (HA! Bet ya didn't see that coming right? 😈) (Hope you are having a good day though, take care of yourself tonberry ♥)

notes 💌: OMG THIS WAS A SURPRISE! I was just reading through this and even picked you a character and was super surprised to see that it was from you, love <333 thank you so much for participating in this event because you have been nothing but kind to me, so to return that favor for you means the world to me <333 have a wonderful valentine's day and know that i am sending lots of love <3

THE CHARACTER CUPID CHOOSES FOR YOU THIS VALENTINE’S DAY IS…

MOMO!!!

i think having two mother friends in the group would be 10/10 tbh

i think both of your goals are to make everyone around you happy, so naturally, you two gravitated to each other

she will care for you and to have someone care for her means the world!!

she would love that active side of you

the two of you would just goof off outside while you both get your built up energy out

now the only thing is, i dont see her as a super daring person until someone else convinces her to do something super risky. she'll do it, but just know you got to convince her a bit

i think she would totally be down to try those fun risky things though

i dont call her a girlboss for nothing

she loves your style

she doesnt really have a style for herself, but to see you very confident in the clothes you love makes her so so happy

and she just thinks you look so good in everything you wear

SHE LOVES CUDDLING

just hearing you talk about wanting to cuddle next to a fire makes her blush

knowing that you want to do self care with her literally makes her so happy omg

like she could spend all day doing that, but with you??!?!?! you cant tell me she's not over the moon

she loves that you are just so sweet and cling onto her

she loves being the cuddle bug and having someone like you to tell her to take a break every once in a while

PLEASE MAKE HER HOMEMADE GIFTS

she knows they came straight from your heart, so they mean a lot more to her

plus she just thinks you're so talented that she gets all gushy whenever you get her a present

just know that you got yourself a lovely girl who loves every little thing about you <333

💌 HOW WOULD SHE ASK YOU TO BE HER VALENTINE??

she would write you a lovely hand written letter with pink pen that says some super lovely things about you and ends with "and will you be my valentine??" and when you say yes, she gives you chocolates and a teddy bear, a smile never leaving her beautiful face.

💌 VALENTINE’S DAY DATE

Momo wanted a chill day. The two of you had been training and working all week and the last thing you needed to do was go on some crazy adventure and call it a date, only to be both grumpy and exhausted. And you agreed. You were both just wanting some self care time. You both took the day off just to be together and when you woke up, it was already heaven. Momo had brought you breakfast in bed and planted kisses all over your face. "Today is going to be an amazing day," she had said, laying down next to you to eat breakfast as well. "It sure will be." You agreed, making a satisfied sound as you took your first bite of breakfast. "I have the perfect plan for the day!" Momo sounded so excited. You hadn't heard her sound like this in ages. It was probably because she slept in for the first time in a long time to be honest. She pulled out her journal and showed her the plans for the day and you smiled. It all sounded perfect. Every last bit of it. You couldn't wait to be curled up in your girlfriend's arms just sitting next to the fireplace in your living room. The day went nicely. Lots of good food, hugs and kisses every couple minutes, skin care, etc. It was just so relaxing. You hadn't even noticed that the sun had gone down until you were in Momo's arms, wrapped in a blanket talking about the future. Her arms were so warm pressed to yours and you couldn't help but place kisses up and down her hands and face. "Momo, I love you." Momo gave you a loving look and pulled you closer, placing a kiss onto your forehead. "I love you too. Oh, and Happy Valentine's Day." <3

~~~~~

mystery date rules | pinned post @tonberry-yoda

[the-story-of-my-forgotten]

Still, despite, after, life

Crying to survive Writing into oblivion Drawing the beginning Perishing over smiles

Once I lived, I always did For others, Since I fell, I left a seed For others

Tears, they rolled and dropped For others Dreams, they faded and broke For others

Cut and tear my skin and soul For others Haunted myself like a ghoul For others

Body will cry and suffer For others Gathered my bruises For others

Lament and grow slowly For her Built up and honestly For her

Cried rivers, oceans and seas For her Filled my heart with the sky For her

Flooded my room with ideas For her Spilled my feeling around For her

Let me eyes see emotions For her Fall into a net of connections For her

And others spent time For me They heard my cry For me

Hang on and wouldn't let go For me See my essence and loved For me

Survive until tomorrow For me Fought against my sorrow For me

Saw what was real For me Discover that what I feel For me

So I'll be Crying to survive Writing into oblivion Drawing the beginning Perishing over smiles

My head turns and spins The thing, try a thought Ideas began to shrink Darkness all it brought

Once they came forward Part of my soul taken Theirs forever to safeguard My heart out and open

C'mon read my love It's only dark for you Please, make it abroad It aches for your tune

It's safe through them To live what I dread An idea for mayhem They learn in my stead

I don't, I can't talk I do not know how My mouth be stuck And my mind too loud

Keep quite and you'll hear Listen the turmoil grow Keep you eyes shut, fear Watch my dreams burn

Type the future only By the exclusive past lens End all the time coming Present to fast to sense

A universe is created God is born and formed My emotions placated My vision was distorted

It will be the end I will stay in the paper A character, I will pretend Sanity, inside is safer

Dissolve the ink in metaphor Fade into pages of silence Mortals is caution for The last line my sentence

So I'll be Writing into oblivion Drawing the beginning Perishing over smiles

Draw a card or two or three, draw them all Reality's your will to contort Paste it over to cover my heart from the fall Finished, a canvas to distort

A line, a dot, a dimension of senses Tell me a story or not Will you interpret my pot of madness? Read it, might be knot

Does it have the only value of coin? Maybe gold was fabricated This time the shading will be on point. Practice or be replicated

A face, some hands, a shape smudged Lick your fingers in my flavor Perspective, the only path to trudge. Sip of my soul and favor

To first see and then hear to think Existence questioned over heartless pretension Pull your gaze for my single link A chain so long you'll never reach my intention

A cave of beginnings, figures of ancestors A brush stroke to our kin Watch and bask your eyes full of protesters A scar by knife in my skin

Meaningful, fulfilling conversation Indulge in affection and sentiment Turn to meaningless confrontation Grudge of poor and misled excitement

Let me show you the origin of power Hid my face, my product has personality Observe the late blooming flower Gaze on me, the last piece of humanity

So I'll be Drawing the beginning Perishing over smiles

I beg of you Show me your face I beg of you Let me help

Pain, the only escape Show me the way I'm tired of the masquerade Let me sway

Sleep forever Show me, restful night Drift my heart in the sea Let me sleep

Please love me Show me reason I can live no more Let me reason

I crave your touch Show me affection I fade to silence Let me feel

Do anything for happiness Show me an end For anyone but myself Let me sacrifice

Look at me Show me a smile I did everything correctly Let me be

So I'll be Crying my soul out to survive loneliness or happiness Writing my heart into oblivion disappearing in my mind Drawing the beginning of downfall or victory Perishing over our smiles because we deserve it.

[hitoshisbabygirl]

Author's Notes ♡: hello hello! Welcome to another BNHAREM collab! This theme of office/work au just gave me so many ideas for some other characters I’m excited! Anywhooo I enjoyed writing this fic out a lot and surprised at how long it is actually! I tried to do a bit of progress between the reader and Shinsou but it might seem a bit jumpy, it’s over the course of a few months jump betweeneach scene!I hope you guys enjoy and check out the others fics too!! ~ bunny ❥

Warnings : NSFW! Tying up (only a little?) , pet names! (Kitten slut and princess!) oral (f! receiving) and I think that’s all!

Word count : 5.5k (another big boy!)

Paring(s) : Shinsou Hitoshi x F!reader

Summary : Falling for your boss was a feat in itself, but what happens when he wants you for himself the same way you do?

Enjoy ♡

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Working as a pro heros assistant has its perks and stressors, especially when the one you work for is the spitting image and personality of the one Mr. Shouta Aizawa ; aka Eraserhead. Quiet, tired, sarcastic but a joy to be around when the two of you could be alone , his sarcastic jokes and overall tiredness with whoever bothered him who wasn't his assistant was a fun thing to hear, especially knowing how he is. Becoming his assistant came as an odd thing too, from him saying he sees how much she worked and seeing the work she was capable of was the catalyst for him asking for her name and for her to be moved to be his assistant. And that's how [ ] found herself speed walking her way to her bosses office, tea , a bottle of water and some type of sweet muffin in her one handed tray and his files in another. Trying not to drop anything as she got closer to his door she pushed the door as hard as she could with a healed foot, sighing in relief as she was able to put everything down without incident. Hearing the door creak after she entered [ ] turned around to face her violet haired boss, a lopsided smile on his face as she straightened up “ H-hello Mr.Shinsou I have everything out for your meeting ; There's the food you requested and all of your files and documents about the the next briefing mission!” Smiling at the taller male his own smirk widened as he shut his door and strolled passed her, the smell of cologne and body wash waving over her senses.

“Thank you [ ]. You always take good care of me, '' Hitoshi said as he sat at his desk and started to open up the files, sipping the tea she brought him. Trying not to let that phrase make her skin tingle with pride [ ] started to leave, letting him be him with his work [ ] headed to the door before Hitoshi looked up and saw her leaving “Oh [ ]” he called out as she turned around , crossing her hands over her skirt that rose on her legs ``Y-yes sir?” “You look pretty today, as usual.” and there it was, the usual complimenting that [ ] wasn't used to. The compliments picked up within a few months of [ ] working with Hitoshi, the two starting already with a good work relationship from the beginning to a more comfortable friendship at work balance. For some reason [ ] couldn't help but notice she was the only female around him that he acted like this with, not comments towards her other female employees, he barely spared them a look as he saw them in the halls or gave them a small answer back to their cheery comments. But when he came over to see [ ] it was a different energy, he was more friendly, he talked a bit more about things he enjoyed and even laughed some! [ ] never even noticed the difference until some of the other workers said they were happy she had joined them because she made their boss more relaxed and calm as opposed to tired and snappy. Shaking her thoughts away she noticed Hitoshi was still looking at her, head resting on his hands as he looked her over before looking at the mess of papers under him “You ordered them for me huh? What did i do to deserve such a wonderful assistant.” He said as [ ] felt the praise make her chest swell. “I try sir” , giving her another smile as he sat back in his chair. “I have another meeting this week I'd like you to sit in on. You're smart and can help me with notes on the lesson if you wouldn't mind?” opening a shut eye Hitoshi saw the confusion then joy that ran through [ ]’s eyes “I'd love to Sir! It'd be an honor to sit in and help you!” She said as he gave him a smile he was selfishly enjoying only for him “ Great. And you can call my Hitoshi [ ], no need for honorifics when we’re pretty good friends now hm?” giggling [ ] shook her head “Sure thing Hitoshi '' Ah there it was for him, the sweet sound of his name on her lips. Watching as she bowed and left he couldn't help the raging thoughts running through his head as his meetings for the day proceeded as planned.

The next few days were odd to say the least. After his meetings Hitoshi was more quiet, slipping in and out of his office without interaction or barely a glance at even his closest friends. He didn't tell [ ] what he needed, more of a list he left the night before and gave her small but barely there smiles when she brought them to him or even brought snacks as his days drained on. This was the boss shinsou she heard of , not the hitoshi she was accustomed to. One day as [ ] sat in her room across the way from her said boss she heard a call for her, someone saying that Mr.Shinsou was needing her. Nervous about what he could need from her when he's already in a bad mood she headed up to his office before knocking softly, hearing a grunt ‘Come in’ from the other side. His office was relatively dark, just the natural light coming from the gian window from behind his grand desk. And sitting at his desk was a sight to behold. There he was, long curly purple hair tousled around as his rolled up sleeves of his normal office clothes laid tightly against his forearm, the few top buttons of the dress shirt opened to reveal the hard muscles built up as a pro hero should have. A face of tiredness, irritability and overall done was evident on his features, but as soon as his eyes met [ ]’s they seemed to have life comeback to them “Ah, you got my message” He said, his voice was laced with sleep, if the darker than normal bags under them wasn't even enough. Even with his sounding half asleep [ ] couldn't help the fluttering she felt from hearing him sound more...rough around the edges than usual “Y-yes i did , seem like you're tired sir can i help with anything?” Now having the man turn fully to face her she saw the look in his eyes , an almost mischievous glint in them as he rolled his shoulders ``This might be an odd request but..mind helping me stretch? I've been keeping up with field work and in the office too but with it all I seem to be overworking my body, I'm sore all over and not getting sleep is well….doing its damage” he huffed out a laugh as [ ] tried to hide the shock and excitement of his questioning. Being that close to her boss, a man she's come to not only admire but has caught a bit of a crush on asking her for help? But she thought it over ‘ I'm his assistant , its what im paid for’

Strolling over to him she gently put her hands on his shoulders and pushed, hearing the male under her groan as he laid back into her gestures “Fuck...I knew youd be an amazing masseuse..” he grumbled under his breath as he laid father back, sliding his shoulders deepeer into her hands as [ ] tried not to let herself to be affected with her bosses words “Dont be shy [

], you can push harder on me , I won't break y'know..” Hitoshi joked as she laughed, pressing her nails into his shoulders as a sinful moan was ripped from his throat. Feeling her face heat up [ ] just rubbed the knots from his shoulders, suppressing a squeal as the sound the violet haired man made increased. Rubbing over the back of his neck and shoulders all of the main knots she felt seemed to have worked out. Softly she stepped away from him and called out “I-Im all done sir, unless you need more?” hearing him groan as he stood she was faced with dark eyes looking her over “Those little hands of yours did wonders for me sweetheart, i should have you be my physical therapist too” laughing [ ] pushed his chest and crossed over the side of his desk to the chair that was across from his “Oh please it was nothing but me trying to loosen up your muscles!” crossing his desk as well Hitoshi came behind his assistant, placing his much larger hands on her shoulders ``Well why don't I return the favor, you've been helping me with all this paperwork and now being a masseuse for me...it's the least I can do'' he whispered in her ear as she let out an involuntary whine , feeling his hands tighten with his warm breath hitting her ear. Taking his thumbs Hitoshi did the same, rolling her muscles out of being tight and wound up, but making sure to do more teasing than [ ] expected. Every so often he whispered “Is that okay?” or some type of small praise, making sure to acknowledge . He was drawing it out on purpose, making sure to move closer to her with every push, or have her whimper with a hard roll or pinch of his larger fingers. Just as she had done he pulled away , but not before rubbing up her arms and giving that same lazy smile “Well I hope i was able to compete with your expert massage” Still overwhelmed she just shook her head and agreed , letting their eyes mingle longer before the phone ringing broke the silence. Sighing Hitoshi went back to his seat, picking the line up before answering “Hello this is Mind Jack” rolling his eyes the man answered, pushing his rolling chair side to side as he was listening to whoever called. [ ] could see how tense he was starting to get, those same shoulders sinking back to their tense state as he continued to drain on with whoever was on the other side “Yeah...the back was the way they seemed to bring in other collateral. Taking a pen from his desk and scrap paper [ ] wrote ‘I can leave and get you some tea if you want it’ and slid it to the violet haired male, his eyes glancing to the paper and back to hers. Snorting he took the pen and replied ‘You're too cute. I'm fine.’ frowning she wrote back ‘But you look stressed again :(‘.

Before she could slide it to him the sound of him yelling shocked her “Well of course there's a problem , no ones keeping a proper tab on him!” Jumping slightly at his hand hitting the wooden desk [ ] covered her squeal, looking up to see the furious eyes of the intimidating man soften before he pointed to her, curling his finger for her to come closer. Hesitantly she did, getting very close before he patted a thigh, shocking the girl. Before she could question him he slid the paper back to her “im sorry :(, mind sitting down with me? Could use a different set of ears for whatever this shit he's telling me...Unless you're uncomfortable, consent is key here and i'm not an opportunist :)’ Smiling at the small note she crossed over his leg to sit in his lap, hesitantly placing her weight down before hearing the older sounding man say something “One second Shin, gotta go get some files and the line was silent. Pushing the speaker and setting the handle down on the holding phone, Hitoshi rubbed at his forehead “This is a pain….I guess the lead we hand on a drug distributor is true but no ones properly following him..I might need to leave the office to follow from higher ground” He spoke up after sensing [ ]’s eyes on his closed ones ``But you should be resting ‘toshi not overworking” [ ] said as she felt his hand wrapping around her waist “God you're too good for me woman, sometimes I wonder how I can keep my composer around such a good girl'' Straightening her back [ ] felt her face heat up , a tingle running though her spine as he continued, getting closer to her ear “Yknow, you're always on edge with me, why is that pretty girl?” Whimpering she felt his hand stroke the mesh of her stockings “Always wearing such cute little outfits...you're like a doll” holding in her breath she gasped when she felt his fingers pinch her thigh “You still didn't answer me [ ]...” Clearing her throat she spoke up “You're just a bit intimidating is all sir..hitoshi” shr admitted as he chuckled , tightening his grasp on her waist “So I intimidate you huh sweetheart?” moving his hand away he just laid back, giving [ ] rome to breathe “You can relax,, I'm used to others ebing a bit scared of me so it's not that big of a surprise.” chuckling, he continued “ You don't have to stay on me , I was just being selfish with you”

Feeling a bit sad at his wording, [ ] turned herself around to look at him, and immediately regretted it. He looked perfect, body sprawled and relaxed on the leather office chair, a similar button up, this time black , was still left open , leaving his neck opened to see. The lazy tired look he always radiates was there, being a sense of calm from him. Since he was in the office he now wore more jewelry , a set of plain titanium bands fit over his fingers. That casually was scrolling his phone. Feeling herself staring too much [ ] cleared her throat and whispered “Well I like you...so I like it up here” And that phrase snapped Hitoshi from his scrolling “What did you just say?” realizing her open thought to herself actually was heard by him she froze, starting to rise from his lap “Ah nothing just-” “[ ], what did you just say to me..” grabbing her arm before she could get far enough she was jerked back to his face. Questioning eyes stared back at the nervous and faltering ones that stared back. “I said I didn't mind being on your lap..” She said as he smirked “But why?” Looking away from his piercing stare she let out a small snort “Well because its kinda comfy” The smirk on his face turned into a grin “That's not what I heard kitten try again” Feeling the heat spread to her face she tried to pull here arm from him only for him to hold it tighter “I..didn't say anything else” clicking his tongue he got closer, putting his nose close others “You said you liked me, or maybe my own thoughts are starting to take over” “What do you mean Hitoshi..?” Flicking his eyes to hear he realized what could happen so taking in a breath he continued “If you don't say it then I will...I like you [ ], the months you've been working for me has been the best time for me...I'M selfish with you..and i want you all to myself..I'm the boss here afterwards, so no ones really gonna question if I decide to make you mines”

Gasping at his confession [ ] tried to hide her face until a hand grabbed her chin “But if I was wrong hearing what you said then..I won't push it” Letting her face and arm go he leaned back in that chair, looking at her. Sucking in her own breath [ ] looked at him and spoke “Yes, I said I liked you, and I do, I've had one since the third week here and now its been months, I enjoy being your assistant, I like being able to make you happy and I...really enjoy being around you..” Meeting his eyes again she saw his smile before he put his phone down “Well with that squared away.. Why don't you come here kitten” By dropping his voice and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt [ ] felt like she'd just opened one of the best and scariest doors she could imagine. That was, until the phone rerung. Side eyeing it Shinsou still held a hand out for her, pulling her swiftly to his lap before answering “Yes Sir?” he started again but this time his hand traveled south, rubbing up and down the back of [ ] as he listened to the man on the other side of the phone. Something he said made the boy grab her waist hard, causing her to let out a sound of discomfort. Hearing that the violet haired male looked at her before whispering a soft “Sorry” and pulling her closer. [ ] saw what he meant ; the senior officer was all over the place, no one knew where anything from the heroes’ agencies were, all the papers, notes and documents on the case seemed misplaced or missing pieces and parts.

Focused on listening to the man on the phone as well, she felt herself start to lay on his shoulder to better hear him, slightly curling up on her boss's lap. Gently a ring clad finger slid under [ ]’s shirt, the cool metal cooling off her burning skin. Still buzzing off his confession she decided to be a bit bold, jutting her hip out so he’d have a hand full of her thigh if he wanted to. Still talking to the man on the line, Shinsou threw her a look, raising a brow before taking the invitation to the now more exposed flesh. “Now Hitoshi-kun I think we could work on a few different ways to trap him, I can send some undercover men to join you in his apprehension, this is our fault for losing him and if we come up with a good enough plan we can begin to execute it!” Humming in agreement Shisou felt himself becoming distracted by his assistant who was whimpering at his ministrations, fingers tightening on his shoulder as she let him rub over her hip, down to her ass and squeezing , before with every touch going lower. “Sure sensei lets..work on some places that we could..potentially set up” feeling the ghosting lips of [ ] on his neck Shinsou slid his hand lower to cup over her cheek , a warning that he'd go lower. Pecking a spot on his neck was the push, the same ring clad fingers going between her skirt and pulling the mesh from her core, causing her to gasp out. Smirking as she got back was a kiss to her temple before he rubbed just his knuckle against her core that was starting to weep. Signing out in content she couldn't help herself, knowing that he still was on the phone with the man fumbling to write up things to fax over she grabbed the sides of his shirt to smash their lips together, a grunt falling from the violet as he groaned, dipping in to kiss her deeper until he heard his name “Hitoshi-kun?” Breathlessly he pulled away from the kiss, seeing [ ] pout as he grinned, stuffing a finger inside of the hole he made and pulled her soiled panties from her lower lips ``Ahem , yeah i'm here sir, sorry just had my assistant bring me some papers and I got distracted” Licking at his lips he continued to talk to the chief while rubbing her little bud casually talking to him as he faxed over details.

An agonizing half an hour later they were done and so was his teasing. As soon as the chief said he'd call later and they hung up [ ] was on him, trying to kiss him as he slipped his fingers out and away from the mess dripping between her legs ``Well well well, the kitten can be bold when it comes to being teased'' Letting out a high pitched whine she when to kiss him again but he moved, going for her neck. “Patience sweetheart, I'm not even gonna do anything.” Pulling her up higher on his lap and cradling her waist his lust filled eyes looked over her heaving chest and wide eyes looking at his “You okay? I didn't mean to scare you with how fast we were moving” Shinsou rasped out at her. Feeling heat creep up her neck she shook her head ``'m fine, great actually. Just very um..needy” Laughing at her words he leaned up to kiss her cheek “Well I hope you know i'm not done with you...I’ll let you finish those papers that were sent over...maybe if you be a good girl I'll give you more hm?” Teasing her Shinsou ran his lips over [ ]’s , the gap keeping them apart almost nonexistent as he licked at her lips , starting another deep kiss. Letting his fingers run over her hips he pulled her tucked shirt out more, unbuttoning the ones closest to him as [ ] did the same, not stripping themselves bare but just enough skin for the two to feel each other.

Letting one hand pull up her skirt and one wrapped around her throat Shinsou could feel the heat radiating from her clothed lower half that was runting over his straining hardon. Slowly he grabbed her hip to stop her rocking. Before pulling away from the kiss, both breathing hard against the other “H-hitoshi...you're a tease” clicking his tongue the male gave her a look “If anything you're the tease kitten, rutting against me like that..and then kissing my neck? Naughty girl you wanted my attention and now that you're getting it you wanna whine about it and beg about it not being enough. I promise i'll give you more kitten, I promise you I will...I really wanted to give you a proper date and be able to show you I don't want you as something quick and damn sure not easy.. but at this rate...I'll end up pounding you on this desk like the little brat you are until you learn how to listen [ ], who knew you'd get bratty if you're not being stuffed and begging for more” Kissing her cheek Shinsou let her sigh and start to semi get dressed to get the papers ``You still could take em on a date though…” She said softly as his eyes watched her smooth and fixed her skirt “That I will do” Laughing [ ] awkwardly tried to pull the stockings she had underneath the tiger to fix the hole he made. Watching her struggle was now Shinsous task as his assistant pulled and tugged, soon hearing another rip as she struggled “Take them off” Blinking, [ ] faced him “H-Huh?” “I said take them off, they'll be off soon anyways” Pointing to the clock he was right ; they only had a bit more left in the office before they'd be going home for the day. “O-Oh yeah..But what about-” “If you're nervous I'll walk you to your car, you don't have to worry about feeling exposed” As i f he was reading her thoughts Shinsou spoke, making [ ] feel her heart rise in her throat “Okay...well uhm thank you sir” feeling even more heat in her chest she left out and did as such, feeling the cool air of the building raised goosebumps on her skin. Sighing, she grabbed the stack of papers on the printer, starting to work on them for her teasing boss.

Sticking to his word Shinsou did walk her to her car, a pleasant conversation falling between the two “Well,” her boss started “It looks like we’ll be up to more faxing tomorrow, I’ll see what we’ll need tonight. Thanks for listening in too, oh and for my massage” Giving [ ] a smile he opened her car door for her and turned to leave before feeling a hand grab his wrist “Wait!” Looking back at her he saw how beautiful she looked ; hair a bit disheveled, shirt and skirt not as neat as it was before their little...break. “Yes [ ]?” she didn't understand it, it was like nothing happened . He was the calm and level headed boss instead of the teasing and fierce lover she had hours ago “Well...nothing, it's nothing” Knowing what she was going to ask he stepped closer, pushing her back against her car. Taking his hands and gently placing them on her hips he pushed himself impossibly closer, just until their lips were over each other “Oh don't worry that wasn't a fluke. I told you kitten, I'm not an opportunist , I wanted you to be comfortable before I even attempted to admit my feelings for you, especially in that way” Giving her a soft peck he pulled away “Goodnight [ ] i'll see you tomorrow yeah?” and with that he started to head for his own car.

The following day [ ] made it a point to dress a bit more risky. Wearing a deep v cut and slit up the thigh black dress that was still acceptable for work with a long sweater she came in early to work on all the filing that would need to be done. Hearing a rep on her door she looked up to see one of the other girls come in “Ouuu look at you, whos the lucky person?” Laughing [ ] continued to order “Ah whatever do you mean?” The girl, Mina, came closer. “All of your outfits are cute or a bit womandly but this, this is a minx in disguise , like you're gonna go on a fancy date but really worried about the desert afterwards if you catch my drift.” Laughing with her best friend [ ] shook her head “I wanted to switch it up, honest!” Giving her a questioning look Mina laughed at herself “We’ll see, I bet Mr.Shinsou will enjoy what you're wearing” Eying her pink haired friend and about to ask why she said that they heard someone else open the office floor door.

“Ah hello sir! Welcome in!” “Good Morning Mina” Oh, OH it was the man of the hour, Shinsou entering the place. As he walked by he too, was out of his usual attire; still ring cladded fingers but a more civilian look going on. Skinny black jeans and a t-shirt help reveal the mass that a pro hero could be. Sure he wasn't a super hulk but he was very well built , long hair pulled into a messy bun. Looking up she saw Mina mouthing the words “He's a hunk” and fanning her face. Waving at her and giggling she heard his office door reopen “Ah Mina, would you mind helping the lower floors until the rest of the team gets in, they seem to have messed up your guys parts. You too [ ]” The both of them looked at the papers that were supposed to come in to them and sure enough ; they had “Yeah i'll go! I know [ ] has more important papers to fill out!” Cheerfully she headed out , leaving the floor empty to her and Shinsou “[ ]” “S-sir?” Glancing up from the papers she saw him leaning over the door frame, eyes studying what he could see of her outfit through her sweater “C’mere..” was all he said as he slinked back into his office. Nervously she left the papers at her desk and headed into his, hearing the soothing jazz in the background “Shut the door too” Pushing the heavy wood until it shut she laid against it, looking at her boss who sat at his desk. “So..how's all the paperwork going?” Nodding her head she let out a soft “Good” before letting the quiet jazz fill the room. Leaning forward and taking a sip from an iced coffee he pointed to the door “You can lock it too” Sucking in a breath [ ] twisted the lock, hearing it click as the room now seemed a bit suffocating. “Whats up sir?” Sighing, Shinsou stood, stretching before he strolled over to her “ Now Kitten..didn't I say we didn't have to do honorifics..” feeling like a deer in headlights she started to move backwards until she hit her back on the door. Smirking he pushed his hand against the frame, trapping her between his arms “R-right...sorry ‘toshi” The smell of the same body wash and cologne took up her air and made her knees feel weak “That's a good girl, now come, sit and i'll show you what we’re gonna be working on” Following shakely behind her boss she saw he was messing with his capture gear behind his desk “Ah the reason i'm dressed so down today is for that very reason; we were gonna go initiate a look around for our guy..trying to see if anyone who works with or knows him is around then i'll take them in for questioning” Nodding her head [ ] fiddled with the weapon , rubbing the fabric “it's so interesting how soft it is” Flicking his wrist the fabric moved to wrap around her wrists and tightened, causing her to gasp “sorry , I couldn't help it” Stepping behind her Shinsou pushed his hips into hers and pulled her up to his chest “toshi...whatre-” “Shhhh, quiet princess..it's time to show you how I can handle you” wrapping his fist around the two straps he used the leverage to keep her tied up before he placed her on his desk. Starting a searing kiss the two of them made out on it, hips pushing into each other as shinsou drew out her sounds. Pulling away heaving the two of them smiled at the other “Fuck..can I?” Rubbing at her colthed slit and starting to bite at her neck, not knowing where to start with her he asked for permission “Y-yes please , please touch me” Smirking against her neck he sucked a few marks before moving lower to her heaving chest to leave more marks. As he got to her thighs he made a show going between them “Shit love...you just had to dress like

a little slut huh..you knew I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you..” biting at the thickest part of her inner thigh, before sucking another mark there.

Pushing her dress higher he sucked in a breath at the sight. She was wearing full laced panties, the pair thin enough to see everything she had to offer. Letting out a low whistle Shinsou kissed against the heat of her pussy, bathing in the moan of his assistant. Pulling off her panties and looking up to the heavy breathing [ ] he winked at her before sucking at her clit. A loud moan ripped from her chest as she tried to widen her legs to give him more room. Enjoying himself by making her cry , Shinsou moaned over her lower lips before sucking harshly at her sensitive bud. As pleasured whining fell and tumbled from [ ]’s lips he pulled away, stuffing a thick finger in her sopping walls. “C’mon love, let loose for me” “T-toshi! Please..” Feeling her mind get hazy with a push of a button in her walls. The coil in her stomach felt tight and rapidly getting tighter before she came, runting her hips against his fingers that continued to pump in her “Good girl..thats my sweet kitten” Overwhelmed by all the simulation [ ] looked up the the dark look of her boss who untied the ends of his capture gear. Pulling at the fabric he laid her over the desk and started to rock his tip against her sopping core. Wrapping a hand around her throat he leaned down to push their faces closer as he started to enter into her slowly. Trying to help ease the stretch Shinsou kissed her hard, shushing her loud sounds as he started to bottom out. Once he did get to bottom out the two of them sighed in content , eyes looking at each other “[ ].....I promise i'll be gentle I can't hold back anymore..you're mine you understand?” He growled out.

Clenching over him [ ] agreed, arching her back into him “Im yours Hitoshi...mark me” And with that he started a brutal pace, holding her hands with one of his own while the other held her thigh open. As the two groaned and moaned against each others lips [ ] felt herself clench hardr as another wave of an oragsm filled her mind. Seeing her tired and fucked out face filling her senses, Shinsou grinds, rubbing a pair of fingers over her clit “I'm such a close kitten.. ‘M gonna fill you up, can I?” Panting out to her he tightened his gear over her wrists as her pleasure teary eyes found his “please..inside Im on the pill its okay!” Feeling a shiver go down his spine he sped his hips up, going to fill her up as he started pumping his cum in her fluttering walls , a weak spasm was her wall's response to his fill. Letting her eyes fall shut [ ] felt shinsou breathing against her neck as her still tied hands reached to rub his back. Feeling him start to kiss her neck [ ] let out a content sigh “Hey..[ ]” he called out as she hummed “Once You recuperate we’ll go for round two...Im nowhere near done with you”

[beautifulterriblequeen]

B2:S - Chapter 3

Much of this series will be about the differences and additions in the novel version, and how they contribute to my understanding of story canon. But there will be character appreciation, the odd theory and headcanon, and suchlike as well.

Here be Lujanne, Callum, Rayla, Ezran, Bait, and Soren goodness!

Spoilers for Book Two: Sky below.

Lujanne having excellent fitness for all her walking around the Moon Nexus, and she's so energetic that Callum has trouble keeping up with her! She seems like those active grandmas who almost never stop moving, who have a lifelong supply of endless stamina. It makes me wonder if Lujanne will need that level of fitness for some upcoming conflict.

Callum feeling really hungry over not eating grubs and then still deciding he'd rather be hungry. It makes me wonder all over again how Lujanne got to the point where she eats grubs, considering that other Moonshadow elves we know of back in the Silvergrove don't. I still love my hc that the giant leech ate all of Lujanne's moonberry bushes and she's taking her revenge. Whatever's going on there, Callum is definitely not at that point yet.

When Lujanne asks Callum how he knows she's real, he thinks to himself that he'd put up with just about anything from someone who was going to teach him magic. That's a great parallel and foreshadowing for Viren's student/master relationship with Aaravos! And it's telling that neither student gets exactly what they hoped to get. Lujanne doesn't actively teach Callum any spells, because she believes he can't learn Moon magic at all. Aaravos does offer Viren power, but it takes him to some very dark places - literally and figuratively - and the cost is terribly high.

Callum sees a moon shape among the ruins, and Lujanne explains that the Moonhenge layout is an intricate rune that uses the structures themselves as part of its symbols and power. That's apparently a thing even with ordinary Moonshadow villages like Hollow Wood in the east, which is the coolest idea I've seen in a while: city planning as magic runes!

Yes, that's the same shape as the pendants Ethari made for himself and Runaan. Protection? Home? Feelsiness? A sense of safety and belongnig for all cycles and seasons?

Wonder what this Moonhenge rune stands for, then, and how much of this landscape is included in that rune. I bet it's more than we think!

But it makes sense now, how toppling the stone pillars would disable the spell the druids would cast to connect with the Moon Nexus lake. Breaking the infrastructure of the Moonhenge breaks the rune.

There's a physical sensation involved with the visuals that Historia Viventem brings up! When that one ghostly druid walked through Callum, he felt icy cold. Like in ghost stories. I really wonder about what exactly Historia Viventem is doing when it activates. It shows truth, "what really happened here?", so it must have some kind of time-related element, maybe tied to how the moon always repeats the same cycles or something. But it also seems to draw on the spirits of any living people involved in the flashback, because Callum could physically feel that wispy shape passing through him. So very interesting!

Orrr... is that all wrong, and there's something else at work with this spell than time? Maybe the world beyond life and death can act as an imprint of the things that have happened in the living world, and the spell that Lujanne (and later Callum) casts taps into that place, with perfect recall. I'm looking really hard at the sentence that says "dozens of translucent elf ghosts" and "phantom Moonhenge" and "lost in their own world" here.

Lujanne says more here than in the show about the world beyond life and death, being her mysterious Moonshadow-mage self. She says that "beyond" and "between" might both apply to where this other plane of existence is, and she doesn't much care which. With all the relativity swirling around this place, and not much in the way of empiricism, it's sounding like perhaps multiple conflicting ideas might actually coexist in such a place, allowing more ideas to fit there than we might normally believe is possible. Which is a fascinating bit of worldbuilding. Basically, every headcanon anyone has ever had about the Moon Nexus could all be true at the same time, for all we know.

Oh oh oh, Callum coming in soft with a secret wish! He takes one look at the Moonhenge and immediately thinks of finding a way to see his mom again! Poor boy, my heart! I'd say that could be another interesting parallel with Viren, but then, who wouldn't hold that sentiment?

Oh my, is this another breath of life into Ye Olde Ley Lines headcanon? Lujanne mentioning the Nexuses again, so soon after talking about the runic design of the entire Moonhenge, makes me wonder if the six nexuses are in fact giant runes. On Earth, the places where ley lines cross are called nexuses, and there are those who believe those points got marked with ancient structures, like Stonehenge and many many others. If Xadia were crossed with magical lines which naturally formed nexus points where they met, and if powerful magical runes were built across those entire areas, well. That would be cool beans, fams. Can I smack a map of Xadia and release a spell like Luz Noceda does? Because ngl that is my first instinct here.

Lujanne has got to be missing some grandkids to spoil, right? The way she's always whipping out cake and ice cream for Callum, and she's so grandma-ish about it. Headcanon about her being Runaan's mom aside, she is canonically lonely and she's very sweet to Allen and Ellis and I think she's missing whatever family she once had in the past. She may never get to have that family back, so she's finding a new one among the humans who live nearby, and I think that's sweet. Found family isn't just for the young.

But Ellis is straight up gonna be her fave, I bet, because she didn't turn up her nose at Lujanne's illusion food!

Ezran and Bait have a lot more to their relationship than was visible in the show, and I'm so excited by it! Ez can tell by looking at Bait's colors that he's not truly jealous of Zym, even if he's really grumpy about the dragonling taking up his favorite human's time.

And Ez thinking a lot about his dad and the things he's taught him. They're soft leadership material, and I love that so much! "Pick your battles" and the importance of encouragement. Ahh, my heart. Ezran, you're going to be such a good king.

But wait a second: both times that Bait gets extra grumpy in Zym's first training session, Ezran has just mentioned something about flying. Guys, I think Bait wishes he could fly, really badly. And that's his biggest problem with Zym, and with Ezran teaching Zym to fly, instead of Bait who doesn't have wings so. Bait is so old that his secrets have secrets, and I'm really curious how flying fits into them now!

Rayla, Dramatic Assassin: "I need to patrol for dark forces." That's what Lujanne called the source of the purple wisps that found them. I wonder if that's an official term all Moonshadows know, or if Rayla is just taking her cue from a veteran Moon mage. And I wonder how far Rayla is falling into the apparent pattern of "one mage, one assassin", since she does spend a lot of her time patrolling without being asked.

When Callum tells Lujanne that he was bad at prince stuff, and she asks if he didn't give up and got good at those things anyway, it's an opportunity for Callum to embrace subverting his parents' expectations in favor of seeking his own path, which is a primary theme of the show. But Lujanne is a couple generations older than Callum, at the very least, and I have to wonder what her upbringing was like. Is her version of success the one she took? Was she bad at magic once too, but she persisted? She is very soft and doesn't want to kill anyone.

Maybe Lujanne had dreams of doing something else with her life, but she felt she had to pursue the destiny that others handed to her, so she studied magic as hard as she could, and she did get good at it, but using it to defend Xadia from humans is not what she wanted to do with her life. Whether there's a parallel between her and Ethari on that point, there's one between Callum and Ethari, I think. How much of your life are you willing to let others direct for you?

LISTEN I WAS DYING AT THE EAR BREAD SCENE OKAY

This is my new favorite Soren and Claudia moment ever. Soren loves him his bread, okay. Even as earplugs for Claudia's sleep ocarina tune. The fact that it's "super effective" makes me think of a Pokemon defense. The fact that he learned it at camp, where he also learned about Moonshadow Madness, is hilarious. Later on, Corvus doesn't know Soren by name, but I still love the idea of Corvus being a kind of Strider-esque camp instructor, filling the ears of his young charges with all kinds of useful tactics like ear bread for magic spell songs (which actually seemed to work as intended), and warnings about the enemy elves' blood-themed tactics (which may or may not come back around in BH)

I thought they were gonna go in a kind of deep direction when Soren still wanted his ear bread back, but then he just. Eats them. Just noms them. I love this kid. Give Soren all the bread!

[voiceless-terror]

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages. 

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it. 

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers. 

Telling his assistants was another story. 

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red. 

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts. 

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought. 

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!” 

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest. 

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment. 

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up. 

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?” 

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity. 

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

[komori--shoma]

Shoma Umi Komori.

🦢

(I'm sorry if my english is shitty-)

❛A sad soul can kill faster than bacteria.❜

—𝐽𝑜𝒉𝑛 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑘

⟅☙⟆ Universe ⟅☙⟆

Diabolik Lovers. I plan, however, to take her out of the universe and make her a character of her own. Or maybe I'll just drop it and do both. Who knows?

⟅☙⟆ Full Name ⟅☙⟆

Shoma Umi Komori.

"Shoma" is a Japanese name that means "Woman who seeks the truth, who is not conformist at all."  Her second name, "Umi", is also a Japanese name that means "ocean".

⟅☙⟆ Kanji ⟅☙⟆

シ ョ マ

⟅☙⟆ Nickname ⟅☙⟆

Despite being initially confused by these, as she was not used to it, she was given the nickname "Engel" (which means "Angel" in German) by a family quite close to her.  The nickname was given by the mother and head of the family, since in the eyes of that woman, Shoma is an angel.

Seiji, who was the adoptive father of the girl, called the young woman "Astertea", which is quite a "peculiar" name in the bible.

Yui, with whom she is no longer in contact with Shoma, used to call her "Sho" or "Shomi" affectionately.

⟅☙⟆ Age ⟅☙⟆

She is eighteen years old, although she looks a bit younger.

⟅☙⟆ Gender ⟅☙⟆

Feminine.

⟅☙⟆ Sexual Orientation ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't know yet. Doesn't really bothers her to know.

⟅☙⟆ Height ⟅☙⟆

160 cm.

⟅☙⟆ Weight ⟅☙⟆

She used to weigh 35 kg., But now she is a proud 64.5 kg.

⟅☙⟆ Blood type ⟅☙⟆

OR-

⟅☙⟆ Status ⟅☙⟆

Alive.

⟅☙⟆ Race ⟅☙⟆

Human

⟅☙⟆ Birthday ⟅☙⟆

June 20th.

⟅☙⟆ Sign ⟅☙⟆

Gemini.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Color ⟅☙⟆

Light blue and night blue.

⟅☙⟆ Appearance ⟅☙⟆

There is a great before and after in her appearance, and even though she is not shown in her story (at the end of the card), there was the occasional change in her future.

The girl has oculocutaneous albinism, so her skin and hair are snow-white.  Her hair, due to a small "situation", was long, straight and lifeless.  Her hair almost touched her waist, and she basically managed to cover her view.  She is now a cute short hairstyle down to the nape of hers, wavy and neat.

Her skin is very pale and fragile, although now she is somewhat better, before she was simply rough and damaged.  She has several deep burns and scars on this one as well.

The young woman, despite not having very good eyesight, has beautiful eyes of a light blue color, somewhat grayish.

She has a mark on her right leg in the shape of a fox with several stars on it.  It's a pretty special symbol, but she keeps it covered most of the time.

She usually did not wear clothes other than bandages to cover herself, although she still finds old clothes to wear, even though she was a little too big.  Now, she got used to wearing light clothes that cover most of her body;  like jeans, leggings, or long dresses with something underneath.  She doesn't really like to wear short or see-through clothes.

⟅☙⟆ Personality ⟅☙⟆

Many think that she simply doesn't have any kind of emotion. Shoma never shows any kind of expression in public, she is shown with her face up and with a look so cold that she makes it true to her appearance. The young woman is too serious, and depending on the person, it is very difficult to get her out of her typical attitude.

Sho is an elegant little girl, and full of grace despite all her troubles. She will never be friendly enough in front of someone (again, it depends on the person), but she will also not feel uncomfortable or unwelcome unless that is the goal of the little one. Shoma knows that she is able to erase someone from the earth fas if she wishes, but she doesn't abuse that thought, you just have to be careful not to make her angry or touch her too much.  It could be a big mistake.

Still, well ...

She is always alert, so it is very easy for her to get nervous or anxious most of the time.

She can also happen that she cannot do something right (she finds it very difficult to concentrate / think on several occasions, as well as sometimes she finds it difficult to understand what happens around her, etc).  Still, it is something that doesn't happen as much as before, after leaving the aforementioned situation in which she found herself.

She is easily frustrated, and this happens when she recognizes that she has trouble thinking.  It's very easy for her to cry or tear up in frustration (she doesn't do it in public, she refuses to do it, but that only makes it worse).  Also, her coping strategy is simply not talking about her emotions and keeping a straight face all the time.

Still, and even though she very reluctantly accepted help, Sho is willing to change and improve (even if she has to go through hell first).  She has shown to be too cunning for her age and to behave as if she were an adult, and even though she is slowly trying to behave according to her age, she is very difficult for her as well.

Anyway, Shoma can also be a girl who listens to others and is willing to do it regardless of the situation, and she is always there to be a shoulder on which one can cry.  She also tends to have fun when she feels calm around her, being one of the few moments when she feels and acts like a young little girl.

⟅☙⟆ Relatives ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori: Adoptive father.  Currently dead.

⟣ Yui Komori: Adoptive sister.  Currently alive.

⟅☙⟆ Favorite Food ⟅☙⟆

She doesn't have a single specific favorite food, but she definitely likes sweet and simple foods, like grated applesauce and banana, or a fruit salad.

⟅☙⟆ Hoobies ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Shoma likes to make paintings with her hands.  She serves to entertain him and clear her mind.

⟣ She also likes to make crowns with different types of flowers, even some bracelets and necklaces.

⟣ She has a certain fascination for mathematics and literature, so it is normal to see her do either of the two when she is bored.  The problem is when she has a hard time doing a difficult exercise.

⟣ She Likes to play decorating and decision-making video games. She likes to decorate and combine, so it is normal for her as a hobby to do the odd combination in video games, or in a room.

⟣ It may not count as a hobby, but Shoma loves to watch an episode of a series that she likes or a movie many times to imitate the lines, as if it were some kind of dubbing attempt.

⟅☙⟆ Occupation ⟅☙⟆

None, she doesn't consider herself a student, even if she studies at home.

⟅☙⟆ Relationships ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Seiji Komori, adoptive father.

She did not have a good relationship with him no matter how hard she tried at the time.  It was too obvious the favoritism that he had with Yui, and how she always stayed in the shadow of the blonde.  Despite trying to be like Yui, he could never have any kind of acceptance with her father.

⟣ Yui Komori, adoptive sister.

He adored her with her soul. Yui was Shoma's heroine, and she always tried to follow her example despite her unruly attitude as a child.  The elder Komori was Shoma's world, and he simply wanted to be with her all the time.

Things have changed now. She can't even look at her. The disgust and hatred that he has for that now young woman is simply immense. And believe it when I say she tries; she tries too hard to forget so many things that caused this feeling, but she just can't.

⟣ Yvonne Beauchene, the right hand.

Shoma's only trusted person alongside her family.  Yvonne was Shoma's guardian from the day he arrived at the church, although she had some problems because of it, and that is the reason why she had to leave, but surely nothing bad could happen, right?

⟅☙⟆ Likes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite not having tasted it in recent years, she liked (and still remembers the taste of it, so she still likes) Yvonne's orange tarts a lot.  She used to do them when Seiji was not at home for her, Yui and Shoma.

⟣ She loves music, especially the one that doesn't have any type of letter and is only a beautiful and hypnotizing melody. Her favorite, and also Yvonne's, is "The Vampire Masquerade", which is the melody which Yvonne met her husband.

⟣ Regarding the above, she usually daydreams many times with music in the background and she likes that (because the real world sucks and it is her only way out of the stress and anxiety that she feels most of the time). She sometimes even draws or paints those scenarios that are formed in her head.

⟣ As said before, she likes to play decorating and decision-making video games.  Also, despite having the face of wanting some horror games (these make her heart race and sometimes she has panic attacks), she prefers Animal Crossing by a lot.

⟣ Loves snakes (which are not poisonous), cats and dogs.  Snakes are very good company, and cats and dogs are responsible for keeping her calm.

⟅☙⟆ Dislikes ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Despite having been seen surviving based on it, she does not like meat very much.  Of course, she can bear it, she even likes some (very few) meat dishes !, but there are certain types of meat that remind him too much of ... well, her own meat.

⟣ Obviously, she can't stand going to churches or things related to religion.  She gets too anxious and nervous.

⟣ Her body and mind literally rejects any kind of physical affection if she doesn't know the person very well or doesn't trust them. It's no surprise, considering her personality.  Very few people are lucky enough to even put a hand on her shoulder and not get hurt (Shoma doesn't do it on purpose).

⟅☙⟆ Fears and Phobias ⟅☙⟆

⟣ Somniphobia: fear of sleeping.

Oneirophobia, somniphobia, clinophobia or hypnophobia is an irrational and excessive fear of the act of sleeping.  People who suffer from it enter a state of panic caused by the fear that while they are sleeping something terrible will happen to them, such as the possibility of stopping breathing or that they will never wake up, even knowing that there is no threat, but  they stay awake, presenting insomnia.  Some people who have this phobia associate going to bed with death.

In some cases, panic is unleashed by the belief that the dreams that will be had when sleeping are actually delusions and these will favor falling into a state of permanent madness.  This type of phobia generates a great deal of stress and significant physical and mental deterioration, so it is not uncommon for many people to end up suffering from hallucinations, a fact that further aggravates this type of phobia: fear of sleeping.

Shoma cannot sleep because various things used to happen during these.  She remembers well once a nun (then she disappeared without a trace) entered her room and hanged her, almost killing her if it weren't for Yui screaming for help.

⟣ Theophobia: fear of religion.

Theophobia is the fear or aversion to religion or the gods, and being more common among people who are raised in an environment of iron religiosity.  Theophobia can express itself as fear, aversion, anger, or other negative emotion towards religious practices.  In some cases, the theophobic representation can categorize the deity as an arbitrary totalitarian dictator or, conversely, as unworthy of worship.

It is common among people who suffer from theophobia to avoid religious texts, houses of worship (churches, mosques, synagogues ...) and even the parishioners of a religion.

The young woman lived in a church for years and was not treated as "a daughter of God", but as "an aberration of satan" by her father and certain nuns.  She causes him so much fear that, if there really is a god, she has abandoned her for "not being worthy".  Many things together caused this irrational fear of religion in general.

⟣ Hafephobia: fear of being touched.

Hafephobia is a specific phobic disorder (unlike agoraphobia or social phobia) that causes great suffering in the person who suffers from it.

It is an irrational fear of great intensity that manifests itself when the individual suffering from the phobia comes into physical contact with other people and is touched.  It produces a series of cognitive, physiological or behavioral responses, among which extreme anxiety and the attempt to avoid the feared stimulus to reduce the unpleasant sensation stand out.

Shoma, of course, is working on this and for now she's doing very well, but if she's some stranger, she isn't going to allow herself to be touched or touched by another individual. She is so afraid that every touch will turn into a blow or something to harm her.

⟣ Atazagoraphobia: fear of forgetting.

Atazagoraphobia is the excessive fear of forgetting, which includes both the fear of forgetting and the fear of being forgotten or replaced by others.  Despite the fact that it is a common sensation, atazagoraphobia has been little described in scientific language.  In fact, it has been more pointed out by philosophers and writers who speak of atazagoraphobia as the fear of eternal anonymity.

Shoma was literally forgotten or ignored from a young age, and she doesn't want to go through it again. She doesn't want to feel so cold again that she can't breathe properly or move. She can't, she doesn't want to...

⟅☙⟆ Headcannon Voice ⟅☙⟆

Mia Rodríguez.

⟅☙⟆ Skills ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She is impressively good with knives and razors.  She usually uses them for cooking.

⟣ Literally she can imitate many voices, even male ones.  She uses it to make jokes or for some plan (to get some dessert) that she has in mind.

⟣ She is becoming more and more independent, and that is why she is getting very good at cooking.  She even manages to focus on that rather than other things.

⟅☙⟆ Extra ⟅☙⟆

⟣ She has undiagnosed “attention deficit hyperactivity disorder”.

⟣ She tends to bite her arm or bite her nails if she is very anxious.

⟣ It is difficult for her to accept some changes in her life, but she manages to adapt step by step.

⟣ She likes to play with Yvonne's family, August, her husband, being Shoma's favorite.

⟣ She is considerably innocent of the world around her, but at the same time, she isn't.  She is aware that the world revolves around that filthy green paper, and she is very clever with it.  She knows that her "condition" and her situation may be a weak point, but it is for that reason that she is also careful who she hangs out with.

⟅☙⟆ History ⟅☙⟆

Shoma arrived at the doors of the Komori family church on May 22, 2001, with only a note that said "My name is Shoma, Mom and Dad can no longer take care of me," just three weeks after I was born. She was greeted by one of the local sisters, a favorite of the owner and leader of that church, Seiji Komori. The latter named was not on that cold night, with the snow falling slowly in that beautiful place, so the same sister took care of the girl in his absence.

A girl with blond hair and pink eyes like the petals of a cherry tree approached said sister, curious by the cries that began to be heard.  Seeing her up close, and seeing that beautiful celestial gaze, the seven-year-old girl took the girl in her arms (with the permission of her sister), and did not leave her during that night until the next day. It was no surprise to the sister that her crying stopped as soon as the young Komori began to gently cradle her in her arms.

Still, from the moment Seiji arrived, he knew that something was wrong with the girl, that she was "not human", and that he probably knew whose "gift" it was.  Shoma was unwelcome, and he couldn't show her that in public, not with Yui close to her. Also, the plan deviated. No, he isn't supposed to have two daughters, and she is supposed to be just one more orphan, but the young blonde girl already called her "Shoma Umi Komori", and that could be ... Something dangerous for him.  Obviously, the orders for Shoma to come to his office were not long in coming as soon as he was two years old.

What Shoma saw in her supposed father's room was sealed in her mind, and nothing else. Every time Shoma was called to her father's office, her heart raced because she knew something bad was going to happen.  Every time that happened it was because she Shoma found out more and more that she was going to happen to every sixteen, maybe seventeen-year-old on certain dates. It was because Shoma knew too much about her, and if he couldn't make her forget everything she had seen, then she would silence her to her grave.  Every time Shoma gained courage and told Yui, she was scolded for inventing such things, and she would see her father again for "breaking her promise" to him.

The only one who managed to believe her is the same sister who received her the day Shoma arrived there, although that same sister would get a serious face everytime Sho told her that, she never had to see her father when she told Yvonne.

But, one day, Seiji went a bit far with the punishments, and let the fury just blind him, even if he didn't even regret it afterwards.  Seeing Shoma talk to someone... Important, once this man left the church it just infuriated him. That man's smile when he stopped talking to her and saw him in the eye was not good news at all.  That night, everyone heard the screams of a three-year-old girl resound throughout the establishment, and she was found in the middle of the hall with a desperate Seiji, saying that she had been playing with a poker and that she tripped, with it smacking part of her face.

Shoma began to startle every time someone moved near her, every time someone placed her hand on some part of her body, or when they called her, or when they approached her. She didn't separate from Yui or the sister she trusted so much, and even though it started to be annoying for Yui as she grew older, there were very few times when she was really rude to Shoma due to the fatigue of having her on her back every day three seconds, but they just didn't help Shoma with her fear of being alone, either with Seiji, or with certain nuns. The sister who had her trust steadfastly refused to leave her alone if she wasn't with Yui, although it was only because she slipped out of sight once.

Things escalated to the worse on December 12, 2006, at exactly a quarter past two in the morning.  It was precisely an exhausting day for the girl, because the nun who was taking care of her and her sister had to leave due to family problems, or so they told her.

The albino-haired girl couldn't sleep due to some nightmares, even though she had become very habitual.  The young woman began to hear murmurs and footsteps outside the room that she shared with Yui, and she could make out her father's voice.  She could make out her desperate tone from her ... And, strangely, anger.

Carefully, she got out of her bed without making any noise, but following a little voice in her head, she took the camera that belonged to the blonde that was a gift from her only trusted caregiver, and opened  slowly the door.  Her father had locked himself in her office, and she could hear someone else's voice.  On tiptoe, he approached the door ajar, and looked behind it.  Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw the body of one of the older girls on the ground, tied up and with blood pouring from her head.  That memory is somewhat blurry, but it remembers very well various parts of the conversation between her father and a man with long hair.  She took photos, and to her surprise, they did not have flash, and the photos came out perfectly ... That woman had many strange objects.

Once she finished, she turned, intending to leave, but one of the nuns spotted her, yelling to warn Seiji. Shoma wasted no time running and closing in on her sister's room, which she was awakened by her scream. Shoma told her everything quickly, leaving the photos to hide them, and the little girl didn't hesitate long to jump out the window (it was not the first time that she did that out of boredom), and she ran away from there.  Still, the nun had gone ahead, and it wasn't long to be just a few steps away from her with her father's poker, part of them burning. 

She remembers her sister with hatred seeing it all in horror and just standing there with the camera in her hands, shaking, to simply turn and turn her back on him.

In the blink of an eye, she was dragged by her hair by her "father" and other nuns, and before she had a chance to run away, the girl was thrown into the basement, away from other people, away from Yui, away from  everyone.  She tried to get out, scream, but no one ever came.

Nobody, nobody at all...

And here ends her story.  The young woman, thanks to her curiosity, sealed her fate.  She was destined to die in that place, even if she didn't want that, alone and starving, not knowing if Yui or someone would remember her...

But they say that there is always someone who takes care of us somewhere, right?  Even if she has no hope... Maybe there really is someone, even without her knowing it.

[an-aura-about-you]

👻 💖 😈 💭

Putting this under a cut because it got long and I include both samples and spoilers for my works.

👻 What is one WIP you think you may never pick back up?

Unfortunately, if it's a WIP I had for Princess Tutu on fanfiction.net, then I'm probably not coming back to it. That's not to say I'm never writing Princess Tutu fanfiction again, just that I'm leaving those be as they are.

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Hard to say. I like things about my writing, but I feel like they change from fic to fic. What I like about one fic might be different from what I like about another. I think I'll link this to one thing I feel is a shortcoming: being able to describe a scene. I tend to favor the character dialogue over that. So when I write something where I can at least see what is happening and think the reader can form an accurate idea to match, then that's what I like most. Here's a sample from Give Me My Sin Again where I think I got that right:

[Jon] firmly decides to let Martin keep sleeping, though he does bring the tea to set it by the sofa. There’s a little wooden crate with telltale cup rings indicating its history of being drafted as a side table, and he places the tea there. He’s so close he can hear the quiet in and out of Martin’s breathing as he naps. Once the tea is safely set down, he pulls back enough to look at Martin. He looks so peaceful, and while it’s difficult to tell how much of that is the inherent vulnerability of sleep and how much is actual peace it still further solidifies Jon’s decision not to disturb him.

When did Jon know that Martin is beautiful? It seems so obvious now. Broad chest and shoulders, wide hands and strong arms complementing his soft face and middle. His blush has died down to the faint hint of pink of sleep, his freckles visible now and tracing their patterns, calling to Jon like the stars to a stargazer. Martin’s head rests on a round, yellow cushion, and the effect of it seen from above brings to mind artistic masterpiece. The scene is only marred by Jon tracing a featherlight caress along Martin’s cheek with the back of his fingers, and he draws back once he realizes what he’s involuntarily done.

😈 Is there anything you enjoy doing that you think your readers hate?

Oh heck, probably when I blindside people with tragedy. Not even that, necessarily, but when I do horrible things to Duck and Fakir in particular when writing Princess Tutu stuff. Everybody's all shook up by that one fic in which Autor shoves Fakir in front of a train and that's the part that everyone brings up, glossing over the horrific implication that Drosselmeyer takes Autor's body in the end. Granted, by that point, Autor's a fucking killer, but that's still messed up.

💭 What is a headcanon you have about your own work?

Considering I haven't specified this, I guess it would count as a headcanon and not just canon, so here's a bit of info on one of the OCs I created for Crossing the Bridge! There's a scene when Martin goes to a cafe and gets phone numbers from three baristas on duty. It's specified that Lydia's the one who takes his order, but the one who actually gives him his order is Frank. While I named them after Frank Voss, I picture them looking like (but not sounding like) Jonny Sims.

And while I'm here, I might as well provide the baristas' full names! I'm still following the conventions I set in the fic, basically using Jonny and Yahtzee's ways to name characters to cobble together OCs. In addition to Lydia Jarvis, whose full name is revealed in the fic, we have Frank Somerset and Jessica Garrett.

[kikyan]

Hello! Can I have a hunter x hunter matchup please?

Appearance : 5'4 ace/heteromantic gemini girl ambivert.Dark brown hair/eyes(glasses) a little chubby/muscled and pale skin+permanent smirk/smile/ neutral face. My style varies a lot (always comfy) but I never wear dresses heels/makeup. I love to imagine outfits with symbols from fandoms or my own drawings so I have a rather unique style who changes a lot

Age : 17

MBTI: INTP (I am an ambivert but oh well)

Personality : .Sassy sarcastic a little naive but I have a backbone (don't bother flirting with me and if you feel that I am flirting with you which happens a lot then it's just my personality and on the rare occasion I notice they have to confess or I won't believe it) ,calculative,protective,creative,expressive,,tsundere,manipulative,a devil's advocate,prideful,charismatic,smartass,bookworm,daydreamer,a little insensitive/blunt because I'm more on the logical side so I don't really understand or recognize emotions,vengeful,mischievous,a huge tease,open minded,very curious,gets annoyed easily,impatient so kind of a bad temper,observant but not romantically,sadistic to a point but my conscience prevents me from doing these acts.Indifferent to many things,open minded,morally...unique. With my friends I am either laughing, goofing around or annoyed. Those who don't talk to me see me as a nerd aggressive smart and blunt person ( even prideful) and strangers as a polite sweetheart. But I am a chaotic good/neutral. I notice a lot of details because I don't let my guard down even if I daydream plus I have a photographic + sound memory and they work very well in all situations which can be a bother when I try to concentrate which is difficult for me because I get distracted easily.

Dislikes: I hate injustice and fight for my beliefs. I have trust issues so I never talk about my problems and will use humor when confronted. Daylight. Cooking. Slow things or people. When I get teased a lot (yes I am a hypocrite here). People who don't pay attention to a conversation and then ask to repeat it more than once. People who change side easily and always criticize forgetting themselves. I tend to be aggressive and expose an annoyed face easily (I am moody), plus I hate orders and love pressing people's buttons it's funny(in a fun way rarely in a mean one) unless it's a sensitive subject

Likes: I love cats/laughter/sweets/pranks/dark humour/ a true crime and Supernatural enthusiast and I love science especially concerning space, chemistry, robotic and psychology. Books, sleep, drawing and video games too. Oh and debates I love them. Surprises too I hate routine and runs away from it

Hobbits : Reading, getting lost in a book, drawing, learning, debating, daydreaming, sports (fighting ones), art (music/drawing/writing) and video games

have some bad habits like biting my nails (I just got rid of it)/lips and moving my leg up and down because I am always nervous, disorganized room/sleep and eating schedule plus I am lazy. Of course if someone tried to address my problems I will change the subject or use humor. I don't understand a lot of references because I'm either too lazy to watch or I don't care/predictable. Also I might try to hide it but I am very competitive and a sore loser

Thank you!

You sound EXACTLY like me. This is scary ngl...JKJK but anyway, here we go! Hate to pull a goldilocks moment right now but there was a lot to go off on and while that's a good thing...it was confusing because I had several characters than had to change. So from what I gathered, I think you would do very well with Chrollo. 

It was the personality and the love towards reading. I think that someone like you would suit him. You have a very chaotic personality and by that I mean that there is a lot. You can’t be described in one word aside from chaotic which is meant to say that there is a LOT about you. You’re sassy and sarcastic, a bit laid back and really only do things if they favor you to some extent which isn’t bad at all. Vengeful so you’ll fit right with the phantom troupe lmao. Observational, you have a one track mind at times but then it’s everywhere. Just when someone thinks they know you, you surprise them. I think Chrollo would find his personality intriguing. You’re not an open book, you’re a book that you have to read. A whole ass series, one that he would gladly indulge himself in. It’s a matter of who can come out first, will he be able to read you first or will you be able to notice him before he can do anything. 

[thiswasinevitableid]

42 or 20 with indruck! Can you tell I'm a sap?? ❤❤❤

I went with 20, since I’ve actually done a variation for 42 for Indruck before.

Prompt 20 from this list: My amazing partner just dumped me. Please come home with me for the holidays and pretend to be my partner.

“DUCK I NEED HELP!”

Duck’s used to his neighbor and friend entering his house without knocking. After all, he does much the same to him. But the panicked tone is enough to send him tumbling off the couch.

“Ow. What’s up, ‘Drid?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Indrid drops to the floor to check on him, and Duck waves his hand dismissively to show he’s fine, “I’m just, it’s, I realized another horrible part of Derrick dumping me.” 

Duck sits up, facing his friend as the thinner man continues, “The few times I spoke with my parents since I started dating him, I bragged about how wonderful he was. Goodness knows they’d criticized me enough for everything else, at the very least it felt nice to tell them my relationship was going well. And now I get to go home in a week for the holidays, without the wonderful boyfriend I told them all I had. It’s going to make everything worse.”

Duck nods sympathetically. He’d been the first person Indrid told about the break up, Derrick leaving him abruptly two weeks ago after revealing he’d been dating someone else at the same time until he could make up his mind about who would make the better.

He’d apparently said Indrid needed “too much work” to be the winning partner. Duck keeps hoping to run into the guy so he can give him a piece of his mind (and tell him to be glad it’s Duck, and not Aubrey, who’s confronting him because she is pissed). 

Indrid is weird, sure. He can be absentminded, messy, can leave sketches scattered across his floor for weeks. But he’s funny, thoughtful, and Duck has pictured him without clothes more than once, wondering what it would be like if it was him drawing the high, faintly cracked noises from him on the other side of the wall. 

But more than any of that Duck always gets a strange sense of belonging when he comes home in the evening and sees Indrid’s apartment lit beside his own, still dark one. Indrid is home, next door, and that means things will be okay. 

Duck would have given anything to be in Derricks place. 

“Duck, I need you to come with me and pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Duck should have put some specifications on that statement.

“‘Drid, you full well I can’t lie well enough to pull that off. And ain’t they gonna notice I’m nothin’ like the guy you told ‘em about?”

“I kept everything vague to decrease the chances of them finding something to disapprove of. You won’t need to lie, Duck, please I’ll,” Indrid’s gaze darts around the room, his red glasses sitting on his forehead allowing Duck to enjoy the light brown of his eyes, “I’ll design your next tattoo for free, I’ll pay both our internet bills for a year, I’ll, ah, I’ll-”

“Whoah, whoah, ‘Drid, you ain't got to do anythin like that. We’re friends, we help each other out.”

“So you’ll do it?” Indrid bites the inside of his lip.

“How long would it be?”

“Five days, six if we hit bad weather coming back up here. That wouldn’t take you away from work too long, would it? Or do they expect the part time rangers to cover the holidays?”

“Nah, the center is closed on Christmas. And I’m pretty sure Juno wants a few extra hours anyway. I’ll ask to be sure, but think I oughta be able to get the time off.” He looks back at Indrid’s face. There are bags under his eyes, the result of the semester and graveyard shifts at a coffee shop. His strange, wide smile is tentatively trying to spread across his face. It’s the first time since the break up he’s looked hopeful. 

“Yeah, what the hell, can’t let my friend be lonesome for the holidays.”

Indrid makes a delighted noise, flapping his hands, “Thank you!” He throws his arms around Duck, and Duck returns the hug. Indrid loves his hugs (most people love Duck’s hugs, but Indrid’s opinion tends to take up the most space in his mind). 

He’s doing his friend a favor, and that makes the fact this is a terrible idea worth the risk. And hey, five days paling around with his friend in some fancy seaside town will be fun.

-----------------------------------------------

Juno: You know that’s a terrible idea, right?

Juno: Pretending to date Indrid is going to make for one heartbroken Duck and you know it.

Duck: It’ll be fine

Juno: How long have you had a crush on him again?

Duck: A year. And we stayed friends the whole time because I fucking knew when to keep it to myself. And I can keep keeping it to myself because his friendship means more to me than my fucking dick. 

Juno: ……..

Juno:...... Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you

Duck tosses the phone on the bed as he finishes packing his suitcase. Yes, he’s had a crush on Indrid for awhile. And yes, by the time he realized just how intense the crush was, Indrid was in a relationship that made him happy, and the strength of the crush was overwhelmed by the desire to not make Indrid’s life harder. So Duck kept those feelings to himself, focused on being Indrid’s friend, including putting in a good word on his behalf to their landlord so he could get the little studio apartment next to Duck’s one-bedroom. 

Who knows, maybe spending so much time in close proximity will get rid of the crush….

-------------------------------------

…………….Or it will make it ten times stronger Duck muses during his turn at the wheel. It’s the west coast, so there’s no snow, but rain patters on the windshield as they drive down I-5. Indrid is humming along with the playlist he put on, finishing up the last of the meal they grabbed from  Dairy Queen. He’s been intermittently hand feeding Duck fries so he can keep driving. 

He also does a thing where eagerly and licks the spoon while eating his Blizzard and Duck is afraid he might hit the guard rail if he doesn’t stop staring. 

“How did we meet?” Indrid asks somewhere near Sacramento. 

“Uh, think Dani introduced us, right?”

Indrid nods, “That’s what I thought. We’ll need to have our story straight, but it seems easiest just to describe our relationship as truthfully as possible.”

“You mean we ain’t tellin ‘em we me when I rescued you from an evil goat?”

Indrid “humphs” crossing his arms, “I did not expect to tackled at the petting zoo. But I appreciated the rescue all the same.”

“Thought Aubrey was gonna wet her pants laughin at you.” Duck giggles at the memory of Indrid flat on his back with an extremely hungry goat on top of him.

They run through increasingly ridiculous things to tell Indrids family; that they met on a botched bank robbery, they got trapped in an elevator together, their characters fell in love during a game of D&D and it spread out into their real lives, and so on until Indrid is doubled over with laughter. It would be so easy, feel so natural to reach over and squeeze his hand or stroke his face as they both come down from their giggling fits, but Duck knows better than to trap his friend in a car with unwanted affection.

By the time they reach Carmel, it’s well after ten at night. Indrid drives the last leg, explaining that the house numbers can be tricky to see. They arrive at a stately three story house four blocks from the beach.

“Right.” Indrid sits in the front seat, key in his hand but showing no desire to reach for the door, “here goes nothing.”

They carry their bags up to the house, which is all dark save for the porch light. Once they’re inside, Indrid slips off his shoes, Duck following suit and immediately spotting why.

“Who has this much white carpet?”

“My parents.” Indrid grumbles. 

They tiptoe towards the stairs, and in spite of the fact they’re expected guests, Duck feels like they’re teenagers slipping in after curfew. The bedroom Indrid leads them to is bland.

“My, they really did take it all down.” Indrid sighs, setting his suitcase on the floor.

“This was your room?”

“Yes. I wonder what they did with all the art and posters. I liked a lot of them. And I’d lay money that all of Brad’s sports awards are still up somewhere. They always preferred those to my art.” He sighs as he changes into his pajamas, then slides under the floral bedspread. 

Duck didn’t bring pajamas. He just sleeps in his boxers.

“Um” He points at himself in an attempt to indicate the problem. Indrid goes completely still, looking him up and down.

“It’s alright, Duck. That doesn’t bother me. Come on” he pats the mattress, flipping back the covers, “I’m cold and you’re a spaceheater disguised as a man.”

Duck snorts,settles beside him, “No, you’re just an icicle that got an art degree.”

Indrid barks out a laugh, sets his glasses on the bedside table “Touche. Goodnight, Duck.”

“Night, Drid.”

The light goes out and Duck nestles under the covers. Should he roll over so his back is to Indrid? No, that might seem like he’s hiding something. But rolling towards him could be too much, seem like this is real instead of a trick they’re playing.

“Duck?” Indrid whispers.

“Yeah?” He rolls over, finds Indrid on his side facing him. 

“Thank you. For coming with me. The, the next few days may be a bit awkward.”

“‘Drid, I wasn’t expectin anythin else. Not after eveythin you told me about your folks.”

“I know but, well.” Indrid takes his hand, toying with his fingers, “I’m sorry in  advance for anything they say.  Or do. Or imply. Or-”

“‘Drid.” Duck takes their joined hands, holds them against his chest, “You ain’t gotta apologize to me for shit they might do. I knew what I was gettin into when I agreed to this.”

“Thank you.” Indrid says again. He looks so tired. 

“Go to sleep, icicle.”

Indrid smiles in the darkness, and shuts his eyes. He keeps his hand in Ducks, humming softly when Duck pulls the larger quilt over them. Their hands stay linked as Duck sinks into the pillows and a deep sleep. 

-----------------------------------------------

Indrid towels himself off absentmindedly, eyeing the china-shop decor of his once lovely room. Duck volunteered to venture downstairs in search of coffee for them (Indrid trusts three people to make his coffee sweet enough: himself, his friend Barclay, and Duck). Indrid woke up first this morning, found Ducks head resting against his shoulder. He took his time studying the lines of his face, wondering if Duck would let Indrid draw him. Ideally, nude. 

Maybe asking his friend who he has a raging crush on to join him on his trip was a bad idea. 

He’d realized his feelings for Duck about four months ago. But he was happy with Derrick (well, until the last two months before the break-up, when he’d suddenly gone cold around Indrid), and knew it was common to get crushes on people even when dating someone. Besides, he and Duck were close friends; Duck made him feel safe, didn’t judge him for his quirks, was funny and charming in his own quiet way. So what if he occasionally pictured him while masturbating, imagining what it felt like to kiss him on every inch of his body?

There’d been a temptation to ask Duck out in the days after the break up. But his friend would no doubt assume Indrid was treating him as a rebound, and Duck deserved to feel truly wanted. Now it might be too late. 

The door swings open and Duck shuts it quickly behind him.

“This is a fuckin labyrinth.”

Indrid chuckles, “Couldn’t find the kitchen?”

“No! Thank fuck we got a bathroom attached to this place or I;d go to take a piss and you’d never fuckin see me again.”

“If it’s any consolation, you don’t need to worry about a Minotaur unless my brother is up.”

A silver bell rings and blinks, “Does your family use a fuckin dinner bell?”

“Yes.” Indrid finishes dressing as Duck checks his hair in the mirror, “and it means it’s time to face the family.” He holds out his hand, “stay close; I’d hate to lose you in the maze.” 

Duck hesitates, then grabs his hand, and they head downstairs. 

His parents and brother beat them there.

“Is that really what you’re wearing out today?” His mother asks when they appear. 

“Hello to you as well.” He and Duck sit side by side, and he only relinquishes Ducks hand in order to pass dishes. 

“So,” His father eyes Duck, the scrutiny in the gaze making Indrid wince automatically, “you’re Indrid’s boyfriend.”

“Yep. Name’s Duck, and it’s real nice to meet y’all.”

Brad, his brother, snorts, “Duck?”

“It’s a nickname, oh, thanks darlin.” He smiles when Indrid hands him a cup of coffee. 

“Indrid says you’re interested in...environmental science, yes?” His father continues. 

“More or less. Done a lot of work in forestry and botany and such. Goal is to be a full time ranger in a national park or somethin.”

“I don’t know why we even have those; why the fuck are we preserving a bunch of trees when that land could help enrich the economy.”

“Shut up, Brad.” Indrid glares. 

“Indrid, manners. Besides, your brother has a point. All that land could be a boon for mining and development,”

“With all due respect, uh, Mr.Cold, public lands are one of the best ideas we’ve had as a country. And they bring in lots of money to places that wouldn’t get it otherwise. Hell, back home in Kepler, most of the money comes from tourists visitin the national forest.” Duck chews his eggs thoughtfully, “Plus, screwin nature only comes back to bite us in the end.”

“At least it’s a degree that has a potential job that comes after it.” His mother stares pointedly at him and Indrid groans.

The rest of breakfast goes much the same, and Indrid pulls Duck from the table as soon as he’s done eating. 

“Right, that was awful.” Indrid sinks onto his bed. 

“And you didn’t eat anythin.”

“I had toast.” Indrid snips back. 

“One piece. Come on, darlin, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my sweetheart starve?” Duck catches the pet names this time, coughs, “sorry, figured better to keep up the game in the house, in case someone can hear us.”

Right, of course. Duck’s being practical. He doesn’t really think of Indrid as his darling. 

“There somewhere in town you like?” Duck settles beside him, voice gentle, “It’s okay if there ain’t. Can even brave the labyrinth and grab you leftovers if you need me to.”

Indrid meets his eyes, and gingerly rests his head on his shoulder, “Well, there is one place…”

------------------------------------------------------------

The outdoor mall is obscenely cheery, Christmas trees covered in shiny baubles and carols blasting from storefronts. Signs tout the perfect gift for that special someone, and Duck imagines himself wandering from salesperson to salesperson until he finds the thing that could show Indrid just how much he cares about him.

After a leisurely breakfast in a tiny, scruffy cafe (indeed, the only scruffy store amidst the pristine, wealth soaked chains and boutiques) in which Indrid scarfed two cinnamon rolls the size of his head, they wander arm in arm, window shopping and people watching. Indrid relaxes incrementally, and keeps casting strange, affectionate glances Ducks way. 

In spite of the chilly weather, they opt to go to the beach, finding it mostly deserted. Indrid shows him a patch of tidepools, and proceeds to ask a dozen questions about what he’s seeing. Duck does his best, though ocean life isn’t his specialty. 

“Oooh, hello little friend.” Indrid is on his stomach, leaning over one of the pools with a hermit crab in his hand, “your shell is so pretty.”

“Uh, ‘Drid, you might wanna keep an eye on that-”

Splash

“Wave.” Duck tries not to laugh at his friend, who now looks like a surprised, damp cat. 

“Oh dear.” Indrid looks at his soaked top half and shudders, “that is going to be unpleasant to walk home in.” 

“Here, take those off.” Duck unzips and doffs his jacket, unbuttons his green shirt and hands it to the taller man, “That oughta help until we get back.”

Indrid, skinny and shivering, takes the shirt and slips it on. His fingers fumble and Duck steps forward and begins buttoning it for him. 

“You don’t-” Indrid starts

“I want to” Duck finishes. When he buttons the last one, he looks up and finds their noses nearly brushing. 

“We should head back.” Indrid murmurs.

“Yeah.” Duck drops his gaze, taking a step back, “lead the way, darlin.”

Indrid hops off the rock onto the sand, offering his hand to Duck so he can do the same. Duck supposes they don’t need to hold hands on the empty beach. 

They end up holding them all the way back to the house. 

------------------------

It all comes to a head at dinner the next night. 

“This is low even for you, bro.” Brad grins.

Indrid rolls his eyes, “What is?”

“Bringing a fake boyfriend because your skinny ass got dumped.”

The little bit Indrid’s eaten threatens to come back up. Duck is still, save for the chewing on the inside of his lip.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Indrid responds coolly. 

“Friend of a friend on Insta said in a group text that he knows your ex.” Brad looks over at their mother, “Apparently Indrid is too stupid to know when he’s being strung along, and too much of a dud to actually keep the guy.”

“In that case” His father turns to Duck, “how did you end up involved in this?”

“Probably paid him.” Brad sips his beer and Indrid growls. 

“Actually” Duck says quietly, “I came because Indrid asked me to. Couldn’t say no to the most amazin guy I know. Indrid’s perfect and Derrick was shitty to him. Just cause we ain’t had time to put a label on things don’t mean I ain’t crazy about him. And for your information” he stares down Brad, “that ‘skinny ass’ is the nicest lookin ass on the entire coast, and you are the shittiest siblin’ I’ve ever had the displeasure of meetin’.”

“How dare you?” His mother hisses and Indrid takes that opportunity to bolt, certain Duck will follow him. As he’s halfway up the stairs he hears Duck drawl, “Mom always said money can’t buy class. Thanks for the real-time demonstration.”

By the time his friend enters the bedroom, Indrid is huddled on the bed, trying not to cry. 

“Shit, ‘Drid, I’m sorry, that was outta line of me but I can’t, I couldn’t sit there and let ‘em talk to you like that. I know you got your reasons for not speakin up, but you don’t deserve to have no one takin your side.”

“It’s not that. I can’t, Duck, how could you say those things knowing full well we aren’t together? Do you have any idea how badly I’ve wanted to believe you feel that way about me? That’s the most loved I’ve felt in months and I know it was a lie.” He buries his face in his hands, glasses denting his skin. 

“Hey, goofus.” Duck nudges him until he looks up, “you’re forgettin the part where I can’t lie.”

The gears of the world grind to a halt, and in a frozen moment in time Indrid processes a dozen realizations at once.

“You do like me.” He whispers. 

“No shit, darlin. Indrid, I’ve been into you for months, but I didn’t wanna push you away by tellin you and makin’ you uncomfortable. I meant every goddamn word, and that all barely scratches the surface of how bad I want youMOphhhm.”

Kissing Duck is a hundred times better than he ever imagined, the two of them tangled up before they even fall fully backwards. Warm fingers tangle in his hair and Duck whimpers beneath him, arching frantically into Indrids touch.

“Fuck me.” Duck pants when Indrid lets him breathe. 

“Not here. I, I think we should go somewhere else, leave early. They don’t want me here, not really, we could go home, rent a hotel room, anything, Duck, goodness please let’s get out of here.”

“It was an exclamation goofus, this room is a boner killer if there ever was one. But yeah, gettin gone sounds real fuckin good to me. I’ll let you take the lead, sugar.”

“You promise?”

Duck kisses his nose, “Wherever you wanna go, darlin. I’ll be right there next to you. I promise.”

[neshabeingchildish]

League of Extraordinary Geniuses || Chapter 3

I’m very sorry if I’m pushing these out too soon. I can’t undo them as they come out. Whenever I’m off this week, I hope to work on other projects. This one kind of establishes something pretty important to me, even though a lot of it is perspectives from the characters and it shows some of Chase’s less flattering traits, but don’t worry. I’m not gonna do him dirty in the long run. I’ve already began on the next chapter and that one they’ll begin getting into more of the work. @kiddangers @sunbeameyes @just-a-j-reallly

The P Word

"This is like that scene in Romeo and Juliet," Chase said. Charlotte knew that he'd been there, so he didn't startle her, and she didn't pretend to not know he was there.

"I sure do hope not," she told him, "They had a bad time."

"I've honestly always wondered why it's considered a love story and not a horrific one," he said and levitated himself up to the terrace.

"Because of the people in charge," she said with a slight smirk.

"Is that your answer for anything, now?"

"Anything wrong with the world," she told him, shrugged her shoulders and looked at the moon again. "And it isn't my answer so much as THE answer." She turned to look at him again. "If you're concerned about your capsule, I promise you it's fully functional. We just made sure to program it to keep you in slumber mode until your body reached optimal equilibrium." She poked him playfully on the chest and told him, "You don't get enough sleep."

"So, you're making me?"

"The capsule is making you, but yeah…" she looked bothered suddenly. "If you want to undo it, you can override stasis mode."

"No. It's fine."

"It's just… important to me that you don't feel like I'm trying to force my will on you, be it this, or anything else. I just want you to make the best decisions for you, yourself."

"I get it… and I appreciate it, more than you know."

She smiled and glanced at her bedroom. She had enough of the moon, for now. She picked up a basin of water that he hadn't previously noticed from on the rail and headed inside. Chase followed, unsure of how to broach the subject… She poured some of the water into a tall, transparent and smooth glass on her nightstand and the rest into a canister that had "Moon Water" on the label, with drawings of the moon and stars stickers decorating it. She gave him a curious look as she put the canister away in an armoire. "What's on your mind? 

He thought for a moment while she also put the empty basin away. "I came to apologize, but there's no good way to do it. I feel extremely silly for what I said earlier." She paused in front of the armoire, closed the doors and smiled at him. 

"I've had people that I care about much less say much worse things to me."

"I don't want to be a person who says bad things to you," he told her. "I don't want to be a person who says ignorant things or intolerant things. I misspoke and I wasn't fully thinking. I should never open my mouth unless I've processed things. I hope you can forgive me."

Her eyes were glazed over and she nodded her head, "I've forgiven terrible stuff to people I didn't love. Don't worry about it." He smiled at the insinuation that she loves him, even if she only meant as a friend. "I'm used to being misunderstood, and I knew that it didn't come from a place of malcontent."

He reached out for her hand, allowing her the chance to take it, which she did and he stared at her. "You can always tell me what's on your mind, even when I hurt you. Especially when I hurt you. I hated not knowing what I said or how it was affecting you. Just seeing you look at me that way… you're one of the few people that I don't disappoint. I don't ever want to do that unchecked."

"I didn't respond because I didn't want to put words between us that I couldn't retract. Then, I'd be feeling like I guess you must be." She laughed a little and strummed his hand with her thumb. He was always impressed by how smooth her skin was. How perfect it felt to his heightened senses. He didn't frequently use or need that one. Mostly, it was for precise science in special conditions. But, whenever he had the opportunity to touch Charlotte, he naturally used it. She had the least amount of dead cells on her than anyone he knew, a fact that she told him was because she exfoliated religously. Praise whoever was responsible for that! Her… he guessed, now that he thought about it. 

"I'm feeling better now. I like it when you let me hold your hand."

"I'm not "letting you hold my hand." WE are holding hands. This isn't some favor that I'm handing you. It's a mutually beneficial show of affection between friends." She noticed the flicker of something in his eyes. It was brief, but they'd been gazing at each other, so she couldn't have not noticed. It was because of her use of the word "friends," but that's what they were. And he was one of her most valued ones. He loved that, he did. But, he wanted more. She knew he wanted more, but she didn't know if he was ready for everything that came along with somebody like her. She could be… a lot, and he still had so much social disconnect.

Changing the subject, he wondered, "Will you tell me? What you were thinking?"

She sighed. "Just that it was unpleasant to have to hear something like that from you. I have a lot of things that people have tried to get me to shove down. Everything that I do has been policed my entire life, same for my ancestors. I.. have so many things that I've had to learn to love about myself, to accept about myself and to work through for myself because of the fact that for as long as I could remember, somebody, anybody, sometimes everybody wanted me in a box. My race, gender, sexuality, romantic affiliation, relationship culture, spirituality, practices, ethics, culture, upbringing… every facet. So, to hear that you felt like I couldn't understand having that happen and processed for me was… hurtful." 

He moved his free hand to cup her face and they stared at each other. She whispered, "How else did you figure I seem to understand you so well?"

"I'm sorry," he said. He placed his forehead against hers and confessed, "I think I was so frightened by the mission that I panicked and forgot my senses. Of course, I don't actually think that about you. I just… I don't like to admit when something seems impossible to me. Changing the world, in the way that you described… the probability of success…"

"Will rise more and more with each assignment and each recruit," she finished his statement to try to help appease his fears. "I can guarantee that." He nodded his head, but didn't move it from hers. "I promise," she reiterated.

"Even if I knew that I would die trying, I would still say yes to you," he told her, as his other hand moved to cup the other side of her face.

"Why is that?" She asked, curiously, not teasingly.

"I can't say no to you…" he said and leaned forward a little bit.

"I can say no to you… when it's for your own good." She backed her face from his lips and his hands, but took them into hers, "I'm asking you as a qualified and trusted partner in the effort. Not as a woman that you care about, abusing that knowledge. I wouldn't lead you on to get what I want from you, Chase. I also wouldn't pretend that we want the same things."

He gently pulled his hands out of hers and nodded, "I understand. You.. don't want me. That doesn't change anything. I'm still here for you." She smiled, sadly. It wasn't that she didn't want him… "Is it because of Max?" His jaw clenched when he said this name.

"Not.. really. It's because of you. You're very committed and pure. Very sweet and loyal." 

"Aren't you those things, as well?"

"Yes, but… not necessarily to one person at a time…" she bit her lip and tilted her head, "I'm… polyamourus, Chase. I am comfortable being involved romantically with more than one person. I prefer it, and I'm used to it. It's not something that I ask of other people, and I've never gotten the feeling that it's something that you would be comfortable with."

"You… have multiple partners…" he said.

She nodded, "I am most comfortable with multiple partners, and I have to warn others when they show serious interest in me, or make a move… I'm not going to suddenly just want to be with one person monogamously, just because I have strong feelings for them. I have enough passion to have strong feelings for everyone that I have them for."

"And do you have them for Max?" 

She laughed and covered her forehead, "Chase, it isn't about Max. It's about ME."

"I know, but do you?"

"Yes. I love Max, very much and I have for years," she said, nodding her head.

"And is he okay with.. your… relationship desires?" 

She covered her mouth as she answered, "I feel like you're still focused on the wrong thing. The question you need to ask yourself before ever getting as close to me as you almost did is if you are okay with it." She reached for a book of matches and tucked her hands in between her legs. "I'm patient and rarely lonely. You don't have to answer it for me. You have to answer it for you. And if it turns out that you still… want to say yes to me, we can talk about it at that time." 

Chase was not the first person who she had to break this news to, and because she was in high demand and full of qualities, she knew that he wouldn’t be the last. She hated seeing him look so crestfallen, but he was not someone that she would ever lie to. She loved and respected him too much to do that. 

She saw him out and went to light her handmade incense, and a white candle. She laid down to rest, trying to release the energy of having to sort of let him down gently. She wished that hadn’t happened, but also… Chase was the type who was very territorial and jealous - she had seen it for herself from almost the instant that he had met Max, and to pretend like she could believe he would be fine with sharing her wouldn’t be fair to her or to him. She tried to focus on the positive things in her life and gave thanks for those. Confident that she would find peace in her dreams, she fell to sleep for the night.

.

In the morning, Charlotte got up, took the water from the nightstand and threw it off of the terrace. It splashed against the ground and she took the glass back inside, grabbed the basin from her armoire, and she washed the glass in it. When it was clean, she put it away, dumped the basin over the terrace, as well, cleaned it out and put it up. She cleared her nightstand of her sleeping spell and replaced it with an orange candle with flowers and crystals in it. That, she lit, now for her morning ritual. 

Silence. Affirmations. Visualization. Exercise. Reading. Scribing (Journaling). The entire process took about an hour and when she was done, she would always cover the candle with a see through snuffer. It was big enough to cover the entire candle and she would pick up the candle dish, step outside and open the lid to let the smoke out into the air. 

Once back inside, a shower, moisturizing, styling her hair and getting dressed were up next, and she topped it off with a few spritzes of her custom fragrance blend of ylang ylang, jasmine, vetiver, and sandalwood in rosewater from a fancy, old fashioned perfume bottle with a squeeze pump through a nozzle. 

Charlotte practically pranced through the courtyard to get back to the guys. She came through the doors, the sunshine blaring through when they opened, and saw Max and Chase, standing awfully close to each other’s faces. They would’ve almost looked like they were ready to kiss, except their expressions were the opposite of that sentiment. “Good morning?” She said. Chase continued to glare Max down, but Max scoffed, took a step back and looked at Charlotte. His own glare melted away and his eyes brightened. She was all glowy… Beaming and shit. Her skin was radiant, her eyes were twinkling, her jewelry sparkling, and her hair gleaming. But, her expression was bothered. He didn’t want to be a part of dulling this image. 

“Good morning!” He cheered, with a smile. “Ready for breakfast?” He asked, pointing finger guns at her and shaking them. 

She looked at Chase and Chase avoided looking at her at all. Then, she remembered the last time that they spoke. What had happened, and she wasn’t sure if him avoiding looking at her was because of that or because of whatever TF she had just interrupted. “So… Is no one really going to tell me what the heck is going on?” Chase and Max both looked at each other…

.

Max got up pretty early. For some reason, his brain was usually a go anywhere from 4 am to sunrise (he just would wake up and have to record multiple ideas, or realize that he figured out an equation for a gadget while he dreamt, or just be filled with the energy to have to think of something new that he could tackle next. 

If he had it his way, he’d never wake up early, but his mental processing and creative juices had other plans. He always woke up before the world did and he was always filled with urgency to do things when he did. Some of his best brainstorms occurred upon waking up with a start. Today was no different. He got up, began recording notes for several of his experiments in progress, checked his website and answered some questions from science heads that followed his gadget series, and sketched some designs for new ideas in his project sketchbook, and when the sun began to come up, his mind began to settle down enough for him to not lose excitement, but to focus on getting ready for the day. (This usually happened much later in the day, but anytime that he was spending at Charlotte’s, his body knew to chill out sooner, so that he could see more of her). He couldn’t really explain it, but maybe it was desire based. She was the only thing that he wanted more than to create and invent, so he was able to taper that passion whenever he knew that he would be able to see her sooner, if he did. 

She usually arose either with the sun, or after it peeked into her windows and warmed her back to consciousness, so he tossed the sketchbook aside and grabbed some clothes into his fist to wash up. 

Max generally liked to soak in a bath, then wash off in the shower. It was kind of a waste of water, but it was what he enjoyed doing. Plus, Charlotte being the super nerd that she was, she had her bathrooms set up like those prefect ones in the books, and he just felt like a little kid having a blast in a huge bathtub with these ridiculous soaps faucets. The scents would fill the entire room and he knew this was the height of luxury and that he needed to memorize every single sensation for whenever he was back in his lesser bathtub. 

After the shower, his hair was pretty much just wet and tousled. He heated his hands with his heat breath and ran them through the coif, flirted with himself in the mirror, summoned his phone to himself and strutted out of his guest chambers towards the lab. He was singing to himself and scrolling through, liking Charlotte’s morning posts, which were usually something inspirational for her fanbase and sometimes something artsy like a burning candle or a bird that landed on her terrace or something. She usually posted 3 things, and it was generally right before she left her quarters, because she tended to leave the phone behind whenever she was on a break. He was liking those and bumped right into something, lost his balance and dropped his phone when he almost fell. He groaned as he caught his footing and looked up to see Chase. “Are you drunk?” Chase asked him.

“What? I was looking at my phone. What’s your excuse? You have super freakin’ senses. None of the five let you know that I was right in front of you?” Max snatched his phone from the floor and checked it for damage.

“Maybe you’re just so insignificant that you didn’t register to any of my senses!” Chase snarled at him. 

Max furrowed his eyebrows and slipped his phone into his back pocket. The last time he’d seen him, they’d been fine. What the hell was this moody shit in front of him? “Excuse you?” Max asked. “Can you repeat it with your big boy voice? I’m afraid my hearing isn’t as good as yours is supposed to be.”

Chase wanted to escalate this. He wanted a reason to fight with Max, but also… That wouldn’t prove anything but that he was childish, and also that he was exactly what Charlotte thought he was when she rejected him last night. “Look. I didn’t notice you, okay? That's that.”

Max stepped closer and shook his head, “No. Not okay. You could’ve said that in the first place and I wouldn’t have had anything to say, but you called me insignificant? Because I bumped into you in the hallway? I don’t feel like that was called for.”

“I’m sorry,” Chase said. 

Max folded his arms and just sized him up. “What’s your problem this morning?”

“No problem. Simple mistake. My fault,” Chase said. 

Max was still studying him. His body language was all messed up. He looked tense and a little fidgety, and he was clenching and unclenching his fists. “What happened last night when you went to apologize to Charlotte?” Max asked, actually concerned, but Chase got super defensive.

“None of your business!” he snapped.

Max laughed and that just pissed Chase off more. He knew he was being childish and he knew that Max was more than likely laughing at the discomfort of the situation and the absurdity of his behavior, but still… he had not enjoyed his morning and the last thing he wanted to do was even look at Max, much less to bump into him, and now he felt scrutinized by him. Max rolled his eyes, stepped aside and muttered, “Whatever she did, you deserved it. Freakin’ weirdo…” He was going to walk away, when Chase turned him around and both of them were on the ready to attack. 

Max wasn’t sure how or why they got to this place, but if Chase was going to attack him, he certainly was about to defend himself. “Walk. Away. I swear to god…” Max said through his teeth. Their noses were practically touching. Neither flinched. Chase wasn’t sure what he planned on doing… The smart thing would be to just walk away. What was he gonna do? Fight, in this brand new castle? Over like… school type stuff? 

“Good morning?” he heard, off to the side. He flinched at the sound of her voice. He forced himself not to look at her, though he could imagine her face and he felt like she probably knew that he was just here, in a bad mood trying to bring down Max’s day, as well. And… she probably would lose so much respect for him. Max was right. He did deserve for her to turn him down. He was unsure of why he had even let himself for a moment think that she might not. 

“So… Is no one really going to tell me what the heck is going on?” 

He looked at Max to gauge if he looked like he might say exactly what was on his mind. Max was the type to just tell the truth, even if it sucked. Chase felt panicked. He had been messing up this entire time and today was avoidable. He chose to make today this way. Max lifted his nose and looked down towards Chase. “A misunderstanding that you interrupted in time,” Max said. He rolled his eyes at Chase, put his hand in the small of Charlotte’s back and led her towards her kitchen, “I am craving quiche! Quiche good for you, Bionic Boy?” Max asked over his shoulder.

“Sure,” Chase said, in a low voice, trailing behind them. Charlotte turned to look at him. She really wanted to know what had just happened. He couldn’t even think of a way to ever explain that. Maybe she would leave it alone? Because, he’d embarrassed himself enough for one trip.

.

Chase left Charlotte’s quarters frazzled. He couldn’t believe he’d made such an ass of himself and he just wanted to vanish at the moment. He should probably go home. He looked at the missions. Skylar seemed to be doing just fine getting things done while he was “away on business.” He shot her a quick text asking if they needed anything.

“Good to go!” She texted back almost immediately. He checked the reports, and everything looked good, as she had already stated. He couldn’t chill himself out. He was worried about what Charlotte might say tomorrow. Did he mess up something? Did he make it weird? Wouldn’t it be even harder to watch her around Max? Max… She loved him. She said that she did. She didn’t say that he was one of her… prospects, but she did love him and that much was clear, just from seeing them together. And, it was mutual. And… they knew each other for like… seven years, or less, but, still… More than twice as long as Chase had known her. What kind of love did she have for him? Was it the same as the “love” she had for Chase?

He should get into his capsule and rest. The stasis mode would put him to sleep. He couldn’t SLEEP though… He needed more information about polyamory. He turned off stasis mode, climbed into the capsule, washed up, dressed for bed and then began reading every single article, ebook, script to movies and storylines in shows - every single thing that he could find on polyamory. He wound up more confused and more frustrated than whenever she gave him a soft, short definition. He had collected too much information. Some of this was unreliable, and some simply not the way that she was, some of it was ill-conceived or poorly executed and now, ALL of it was in his head and he wouldn’t be able to fact check each of these details against her life, nor would he be able to forget what he had read. He was upset with himself by the time he fell to sleep and as upset by the time his alarm woke him up, because he had not put the capsule back into stasis mode.

Grumpy and tortured by the information, he got out of the capsule and decided to exercise, maybe blow off some of the steam that he had nobody to thank for but himself. He heard an alert on his phone, but ignored it, in lieu of a morning workout routine. Afterwards, he looked at the phone and saw that Charlotte had posted something whenever she got up. Max had liked it. He put his phone away and got ready for the day, making yet another masochistic decision to scan through the two’s social media pages for each other. There were less than seven years, but close to it. Many adorable and cozy photos, a few of them very very close. Some kisses shared that could be casual, could be something else… Basically, a ton of fuel for his jealousy. 

He continued going through each account and saw flirting in comments, suggestive replies to posts and other stuff that let him know… Nope… He certainly couldn’t share her with somebody else. She was right to point that out. 

For crying out loud, he couldn’t even  handle reading through past exchanges that he couldn’t even confirm were anything other than the flirtatious banter of two great friends. 

But, sometimes, Chase would let his thoughts get away with him and make him paranoid and completely irrational. THIS was one of those times. 

He thought about how comfortable Max made himself, not just in Charlotte’s home, but her personal space. He thought about the fact that he was regarded as a rebel and a bad boy of herodom, but all he had seen was an obedient puppy dog with heart eyes and uncontrollable smiling. That wasn’t the demeanor of a friend one loves. That was the demeanor of a friend with benefits, and while Charlotte was well within her rights to do whatever she wanted with whomever, Chase hated the thought of her wanting that with Max and not even so much as a kiss with him! As though the gods hated him in this moment, right as he was simmering in thoughts he fabricated for himself, storming down the hallway, reading when he should just close it all out, he ran headfirst into Max. 

The latter had just been strolling around like he owned the place and got all pissy about this accident. It wasn’t like either of them were paying attention, so who did he think he was that this had to be Chase’s fault? Who do you think he is? He’s the king of this fucking castle. He’s loved. He’s comfortable. This is his domain. He belongs here. She wants him. You’re an imposter and you’re in his space…

But, Chase had to defend himself. Even if it wasn’t Max who was telling him these things, it was Max who was causing him to tell himself these things and he couldn’t take it right now. By the time Max told him he deserved it… Deserved her rejection? Deserved to be in this state of confusion and mental chaos? Deserved to fall in love with someone who told him that she couldn’t let him? He felt like FINALLY. Finally, he could turn the anger he was feeling into something justified and he reached out to grab Max and turn him back around, surprising even himself when he did and making Max’s anger match his. Yes. Yes, now BOTH of us can be super mad. It was slightly a relief whenever Charlotte appeared, because she cut through Max’s tension, at least. The obedient puppy dog with the heart eyes was back and… Chase didn’t know where the hell he was. On the crazy train, apparently. It wasn’t even like he could blame Spike or even either of the two people here. Neither of them did anything to him. He did this to him, and he was disappointed in himself for doing it all. 

“So… Is no one really going to tell me what the heck is going on?”

Max’s deflection was great for him. He wouldn’t keep pushing. He would have breakfast, let them know he wasn’t feeling well, return to the capsule on stasis and get the proper rest that his body needed for equilibrium. It was a wonder that he wasn’t glitching!

Because of his super hearing, he heard her ask, “What was that Max, be honest?”

“I wish I knew. Dude flipped out on me over basically nothing. I don’t think it was about me, honestly. I think it was about you. Last night, he said he was gonna apologize. Last I saw him, I thought we were gonna be cool and this morning, completely different story.”

Charlotte sighed and said, “I had to have the talk with him last night… The P word talk.” 

Max blew a gust of wind out and nodded his head, “Okay, that is a rough one. I’ll give him THIS once, because of that, but… I don't know, Char. I don’t know.”

Charlotte turned to look at him and he avoided eye contact. “Chase,” she said softly. He looked up to see the two of them waiting for him. Now that he knew that they knew what was wrong with him, at least to an extent, he felt a little better, a little bit more ashamed. 

But, he fell into step between the two of them and Max started asking about what ingredients they would be okay with for the quiche. Chase owed him an apology, too, but he was fine with just saying, here and now, “Hey… Sorry that I was acting that way. I don’t know what came over me this morning. I was just jaded and wanted to bring somebody into my misery.”

Max laughed and said, “You’ll find that it’s pretty tough to do that to me, but don’t worry about it. You seem like you had a rough night. I assure you, my breakfast quiche will fix that.”

“Okay,” Chase said, smiling, in spite of himself and everything else. Max threw an arm around his shoulder as they walked and at first, it made Chase jump a little, but he didn’t toss it off of him. Instead, he decided to finally act like he had some good sense and just listen to Max go on about this perfect quiche of his that nobody else can make quite like him. 

Max was right. Chase felt a thousand times better after eating and fell to sleep on a fuzzy couch in the lounge. “Can he hear in his sleep?” Max wondered.

“No. He’s inside of his mind when he sleeps. Sometimes, he has a dream, but mostly, it’s numbers and coding,” she said and strummed Chase’s hair. 

“Do you think he’ll be able to put his feelings aside for the sake of the work?”

“Yeah. You did,” she said. 

Max raised his eyebrows, “ I did? I don’t recall that. I recall powering through, because you were back in Dystopia with your boys and that was that. I didn’t have a choice. I was there to do work that I believed in. Chase doesn’t believe in your work.”

“Not yet. We’ve gotta show him some results. I can keep him occupied with something less hard to swallow, in the meantime.”

Okay… So, what’s our first assignment, to prove to him that he belongs in this thing, with us?” 

“It’s gonna sound a lot like a horrible thing, but in the long run will be a great thing,” she said. 

He winced, “Tell me.” She smiled...

[b0sscrew]

Hey, this is my first post!

Also, you know this person?

This person right here?

Yes, this person is a beautiful person. This person is very hard to miss.

Blame this person for this dumb and wonderfully beautiful idea that I love so much. So here we go.

Dugan Duck AU!

Now hear me out!

What if season three didn't happen. What if I threw out all of the cannon we know now and just focused on background characters, or relationships we rarely get to see? That's what I'm planning to do. (To be clear, Daisy is staying. I love her and she's never leaving.)

I've decided that Dugan is about five by the time he comes into Feathery's care. It makes sense, since Feathery has been in the lab for four and a half years. @drummergirl231-2 had the idea that Feathery never knew about Dugan because he was in that lab for so long, and I think it's brilliant. But I also think we could go further.

What if Mary didn't want Feathery to know about Dugan because she thought he would be too distracted from his work (or something, I'm still working it out). But one day Mary gets really sick and has no choice but to send Dugan to his Uncle Feathery. I can only think of the chaos and cuteness that would bring.

Just imagine it. Scrooge is in his office after the events of Moonvasion. He's minding his own buisness when Feathery's can rings. Scrooge begrudgingly answers to an almost panicked sounding Feathery, telling him to hury over. Against his better judgment, Scrooge goes to visit, dragging Donald and Huey along with him, because why not. They get there and Feathery shows them the last thing they'd expect. There's a freaking toddler on the floor, just laughing to himself as they all stare at him. Feathery explains the situation about the baby NONE OF THEM KNEW ABOUT, and how Mary had kept him a secret. He would tell them he was taking the kid in but had no idea what to do, and all three of the other ducks would immediately start 'helping' in their own way. Donald would be the only helpful one as the other two just play with Dugan the whole time. Donald tells Feathery the basics and Feathery takes little notes in a torn notepad he had in his coat.

JUST IMAGINE IT!

Also things our lovely friend thought of that I didn't and I decided to add onto.

1: Feathery would ask for help at the worst times from Donald.

Absolutely true! No matter how many notes he took he would think he was doing something wrong. So, of course, he would call Donald at wildly inappropriate times. I mean, he would call during normal times too but that's not the point. It doesn't matter the time or day. If Dugan is sick at three in the morning, Feathery is calling Donald to get advice, getting reassurance and a death threat instead, not that Feathery would notice the threat (He's not dense, he's just focused on Dugan once the threat comes out). Dugan refuses to go to sleep? Feathery calls up Donald for advice. Dugan is slow at learning something? Donald is on speed dial and is groaning before Feathery even touches the call button.

2: Feathery rambles about Dugan.

Not only does he ramble about Dugan, he's always thinking about Dugan too. Sometimes he'll be rambling about Marinebiology and accidentally replace some of the creatures with Dugan without even realizing it. His family would be proud that he found something knew to be one of his special interests, but even Mrs. Beakley and Donald would get tired of the relatable stories and constant questions. But no matter how tiring it gets there is a silent agreement to never tell Feathery to shut up while talking about Dugan.

3: He does surprisingly well as a father.

Yeah, he's far from perfect, but he has so many fatherly tendencies already, you would think he was already a dad. He's willing to protect others at the cost of his safety (and maybe his life). He'll stop what he's doing, no matter how much he loves it, in order to make others happy. He even knows so much of how to take care of sea life, like they're his kids. I mean, he sings to his krill to make them happy and glow, he makes the sea worms feel loved, and then there's Mitzy (I don't think I need to explain that one).

Now here are my ideas.

1: Feathery's job. (This one is partially inspired)

Scrooge would suggest a job as soon as he knew that Feathery had taken in a kid, but Feathery would refuse. He would want to get his job the old fashioned way and want to earn it. He would find a research job and work super hard at it. Once he got home he would work even harder to take care of Dugan. That persistence never goes away and he almost over does himself a lot of the time until he finally does crash and Dugan somehow calls Donald to come over, who sees what happened and takes over from there. Feathery works so hard at his job that when Donald calls his work and tells them Feathery can't come in they don't even ask any questions and let's the family go on with their life for the day.

2: Gladstone and Feathery are really close.

I love the idea that Gladstone and Feathery kept in touch while he was in the lab. Once Dugan was adopted Gladstone made it his mission to become even closer to Feathery. He visits on weekends, babysits when Donald is busy, and he even helps Feathery with money on bad days. They're just so close and Feathery wishes he could return the favor, but Gladstone turns the suggestion down every time since he's "the luckiest duck in the world". It's just so cute.

4: Ships!

Of course there will be Feathery ships. I just don't know which one to choose. Should I bring Gloria (his girlfriend from the comics) back or should I do a ship from Ducktales? I don't know but I'm so excited!

5: Feathery has bad nights.

Feathery already has trauma like Della does. He was stuck in the lab for so long without any human (Is it human? I don't know the term.) contact. I bet he would have nightmares about it, refuse to get out of bed at night because it reminds him of the lab, jump whenever he saw seamonsters on tv, or just get sad because one of his favorite things was partially ruined because of the experience. He just hopes it's not obvious to Dugan and that the fear doesn't grow onto him.

6: Dugan is a wild child.

Dugan is the wildest child and you can not change my mind! He's more hyper than Dewey and Webby combined and it sometimes scares Feathery because Dugan always wants to do crazy stunts. He's met Webby and wants to do what she does. He loves animals, specifically jungle animals. His favorite animal is a porcupine and really wants one for a pet. Instead, Feathery got them a hamster and named him Porky. Dugan loves Porky almost as much as he loves jungles and adventure. Another thing to know is nothing can stop him when he puts his mind to something... except Uncle Feathery. He refuses to make Uncle Feathery mad. He hasn't yet and he wants to keep it that way.

7: Feathery is a giant neat freak.

After leaving the lab he realized how much of a neat freak he actually is. So once he got a house, Feathery made sure everything was spotless. He met Dugan and one of the first things he taught him was how to be neat and do things by himself. He will not tolerate toys on the ground or drawings on the wall. He will, however, tolerate spills. Accidents happen and he'll clean it up later. He's not strict and he lets Dugan bend the rules on occasion, but Dugan is not allowed to break the clean house rule, and Dugan refuses to break it. It's an unspoken rule, but it's the biggest rule.

And that's everything I've thought of so far! If you're reading this please say hello to @drummergirl231-2 for me. And Drummer Girl, if you're reading this... I'm sorry.

Have a good day!

(I just realized I never explained who Dugan is... he's Feathery's nephew in a comic that's not originally in English, so most of this is from scratch.)

[thefandomcassandra]

I've been going through your character fics both for naddpod and dimention20 for a couple hours now. And I just wanted to say I'm so grateful! It reads great and I love being happy-sad about my favorite characters. I'd love if you wrote something about Garthy or Sklonda. But please don't feel any pressure, I'm super thankful to have already so much to read

Ahhhh thank you! Regis of Angst is my title for many years and I work hard to maintain my sovereignty. Also there's nothing in this world more fun that having the ability to make you happy that you're crying.

And I can do both but separate. It’s doable :>

---

Garthy remembers the first time they ever saw Ayda. Years and years back, Leviathan's course was charted by a team of astrologists and some ramshackle crows nest crew. A twisted and winding path that took a toll on the structural integrity of the floating city as a whole. One day, in the middle of the ocean, far off from any visible land, it was to some small shock to everyone when a small child found their way to the Golden Gardens, makes their way to the main pavilion there, and asks for Garthy by name.

"I have been told that if I were to find myself on Leviathan, Garthy O'Brien is the name I should speak. Is this person here? May I see them?" The child — dark-skinned, eyes like orbs of fire, brilliant hair a flickering light, with wings and bird legs — stared up at one of the bouncers outside the Gardens, speaking with a clear and sharp voice. "Please let me through. I would not like to set fire to your establishment, but I will if you continue to detain me."

Garthy, who watched the child politely ask for entry, be denied, and gently state their intention louder, laughed from their place at the bar. "Now, now, let them in. They asked for me by name. Be polite, luvs."

The child turned their fiery gaze up to them, mouth pinched in a pensive and unreadable expression. "Are you Garthy O'Brien?"

"That's me, yes. How can I be of service?" They're precocious and bright — literally, as it seems their feathers and hair and eyes are made of fire — and there's something about them that seems familiar in a warm and fond way. A kinship they feel with this child, like a magnetism.

"My name is Ayda Aguefort and I wish to find room and board here on Leviathan. I was informed by many people who spoke of the pirate city that you, Garthy O'Brien, would afford sanctuary to those seeking it, as I am." The child, Ayda, said. Each word was carefully enunciated, their facial expression almost unchanging.

"And what brings you to Leviathan in the first place, young Mx. Ayda?" Garthy addressed Ayda with all the respect they had been giving to Garthy and the bouncers at the Gardens. Like commands like, after all.

"Miss," Ayda corrected, "and as I said before: sanctuary. This is the one place I could possibly be away from the person I am seeking to escape and, as such, it is a valuable asset. If I can find a job here and earn my own keep, better yet, but I am uncertain as to Leviathan's policy on child labor." Then, as an afterthought, she added, "Although, should it make any difference, I am part phoenix, and remnants of my mother's memories are held within me. One could argue that this makes me much older than I appear, though if that does not curry favor with you, I am also a proficient divination wizard."

Garthy held up a hand to stop her from continuing to talk, a faint smile on their lips. A phoenix, huh? That must have been the tug of kinship they felt when she arrived. Celestial creatures tend to be rare, so finding two of them in one place is unusual. A draw can form between them.

"Luv, if you think I'd turn a child away because of their usefulness then you've been misinformed. Come in. Let's get you a place to sleep, and then we can talk logistics." And, as an aside and, maybe, to curry her favor, they added, "Though I can't say that Leviathan has need for child labor laws, so who knows what kind of mischief you can get into, hm?"

This got a loud, squawking laugh from Ayda, though she did follow them deeper into the Gardens without complaint.

And the rest is fond history.

---

Sklonda Gukgak was known as many things. Three foot four of whoop-ass. A damn fine detective. A bit of a hardass. The nicest person on the force. Extremely patient.

That last trait is something she had to learn.

She had always been impulsive. It's part of the reason Pok fell in love with her. "You took one look at that man, one look at me, grabbed my arcubus, and fired three shots. All of them missed, but I swore, in that moment, you were some angel sent down to save me from this asshole with a magic relic." It was his favorite story. It was how they met. And sure, the perp got away, and sure, Kalina found him and made him sing to the tune of four broken fingers and a large cut out of his ear, but it's what jumpstarted their relationship. An impulsive reaction. One that failed, even.

Having Riz helped even her out. Whether it was having a clever goblin child who would sometimes disappear for hours on end because he managed to find a way to get on top of the fridge and gorge himself on Hydrox cookies then take a nap in the cabinets, or the eternal panic of waiting for the news one day that Pok died and they don't have a body because he's technically not even a Solesian citizen anymore, her temper flattened and she learned patience.

The first time Riz disappeared, she worked herself into a froth for an hour and a half, only to find him napping in a hidey-hole in a place he shouldn't've been able to get to. The seventeenth time Riz disappeared, she just made a quick easy mac and he appeared like a cockroach from the air vent with a new story about one of their neighbors. The first time Pok was late coming home, no message, no warning, she lost days of sleep. The twenty-fourth time he was late coming home, she didn't waste, but she did pine.

After she was told he was dead, she buried the sick sensation of relief under mountains of patience and told her son — their son — that half his world was gone.

His grief was more than enough for both of them. His fear more than enough. His tears more than enough. She just had to wait it out. Be there for him.

Be patient.

Which is why, as she stood in front of her son and his friends and a partially destroyed house post-party, hands on her hip and a headache already brewing, she was grateful for the lessons she'd already learned. This was the third time she'd found him and his friends at a crime scene they caused. The first time, she almost passed out from the sheer stress of it.

At this point? If she didn't find him at the site of a large battle, his friends standing behind and beside him, beaten but triumphant? She would worry.

Because at least that way she knows he's safe.

She doesn't have to take to the widow's walk again.

All she needed was some patience.

[sassycassie-s-writing]

Doppelgänger

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): Avengers - Peter Parker/Spider-Man & Tom Holland

Rating: PG

Original Idea:  I know I mentioned before that I don’t write for the actors, really, but I read a really good fic over on fanfiction.net about the Marvel characters coming into our world (Universal Headaches by Talk With Your Hands) so I gave it a quick try.

Notes: (Masterlist)(By Character)(About Me) Gee, what is with me and these slightly-longer-than-my-slightly-longer-than-usual fics recently? I mean, I’m not complaining, and I hope y’all aren’t either, but this is, like, the third one! Harper is not my last name so don’t look for a Cass Harper on other social media. If you find one, it’s not me.

^^^^^

WHAM!

Groaning in pain, I picked myself up off the ground where I'd landed, coughing dust out of my lungs. On all fours, I looked to my side to see curly brown hair emerging from the dust, also pushing up onto all fours. “You okay?” I asked, voice raspy from the dust and the fall and the pain.

“Yeah,” Peter replied, also raspy. He sounded a little shaken. “You?”

I glanced at the bruises that would soon form on my arms from impact. “More or less.”

“Who are you?!” a new voice exclaimed with a British accent. The voice was… familiar somehow. “And what are you doing here?!”

Peter and I glanced at each other before I turned my gaze to see the owner of the voice while Peter favored coughing.

I almost fell back to the floor in shock.

The young man looked just like Peter. Same curly-ish hair, same brown eyes, same face. The only thing different was the fashion sense. Whoever this guy was, he wore skinny jeans and a black T-shirt with a necklace that had a long silver chain and a charm I couldn’t quite see because of my angle—pretty different from Peter’s science pun T-shirts, checked button-ups over them, and normal jeans with the hems turned up since they were too long. This doppelgänger looked startled to say the least.

“Who are you?!” I retorted in surprise.

Not-Peter scrunched his eyebrows. “I'm… Tom. Tom Holland,” he answered.

I got to my feet slowly, wincing, and introduced myself, sticking my hand out. Not-Peter—Tom—shook it.

And then Peter looked up. “What the f—?!” He cut himself off as he fell backwards onto his back.

This Tom guy looked down and realized what he was seeing. He blinked a couple times. “Am I seeing things?” he demanded. “Why—why do we look the same?” He took a couple steps back, one hand behind him, feeling for the wall.

“Well why are you British?” I retorted.

The British young man in question grunted but didn’t say anything.

I helped Peter to his feet. “You just had to plug the stereo into the weird machine, didn’t you Peter?” I grumbled as I pulled him up.

“Wait,” the British Not-Peter protested. “Peter? As in Peter Parker?”

Peter and I froze before slowly looking at the doppelgänger. “How, how, how do y-you know my name?” Peter stammered, his hand lifting and finding my arm. He held onto it like an anchor—and for a moment I thought he might fall over again.

“I know your name because I'm an actor and you're a character I portray in a movie series,” Tom-Not-Peter replied. “You're not real.”

I arched my eyebrows. “Movie characters?” I asked no one in particular.

“Well…” Tom-Not-Peter trailed off. “Not you, sorry. Or, if you're going to be in the films, you haven't been cast yet.”

“These films… are they well-known?” Peter asked Tom.

“Well yes. They're something of a cultural phenomenon. There’s never really been an interconnected universe comprising of multiple different franchises that can crossover before. It was exciting but a bit of a shock to the system when I was cast. It’s a bit strange to be relatively unknown and then a household name overnight,” Tom explained. I looked—I mean, stared—between the two of them, amazed at how perfectly carbon-copied the two were of each other.

I ran my hands through my hair. “I can’t believe this is happening,” I muttered under my breath.

“You and me both,” Peter agreed.

“So… if you're actually Peter Parker,” Tom started, “I mean, y’know, Spider-Man, how did you end up… here?”

“Where exactly is ‘here’?” I wondered.

“London.”

My jaw dropped. “London?!” I clenched my jaw. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” I rounded on Peter. “This is all your fault,” I accused him. “We weren’t even supposed to be in the workshop but you wanted to work on something and listen to music at the same time so you plugged it into that weird machine. And when it started pulsing with that weird bluish light did you unplug it? No. Instead you decide we should check it out! Now look where we are! We’re in an alternate dimension where you're a movie character!”

“Actually,” Tom put in. “He was a comic book character first. And one of the most recognizable superheroes in the world.”

I sighed dramatically. “Great. Even better,” I commented, voice bleeding and dripping sarcasm. “So how are we going to get home without drawing attention to ourselves? Because I imagine he—” I pointed backward at Tom-Not-Peter, while still glaring at Peter. “—probably has hordes of fangirls who are all over his every move so what do we do about you?”

“It’s not that mad,” Tom corrected. I ignored him.

“How are we even going to find a way to get home?” I carried on.

“Whoever you are in this universe,” Peter answered, finally cutting me off. “If you haven't been cast yet, and he doesn’t know who you are, that means your actress isn’t well-known. So if we can find her, maybe she can help us. It’d be safer to be around her than him.”

“You know I can hear you, right?” Tom asked.

We both ignored him.

I shrugged. “I suppose. But if your actor is British and mine hasn’t been cast yet, or may not even exist, how will we know where to look? It’s not like we can sweep facial recognition over, like, four different countries!”

“Four?” Tom wondered. Peter grunted in agreement with the question.

“America, Britain, Canada, and Australia,” I replied. “Those seem the most likely. I'm American, born and raised, but you ain’t even though Peter is, so that makes things significantly more complicated for me.” I rubbed at something warm on my lip—dried blood. I must have split it open when I fell. I grimaced in irritation. Of course I was bleeding.

“Well it’s not like we can use facial recognition,” Peter observed sarcastically. I raised my eyebrows suggestively. “No. No. No, no, no, no, no. We are not hacking into something to use facial recognition!”

“Well how else do you suggest finding the version of me of this universe? This isn’t like the time Tony told us to literally find that needle in the haystack and we lit the hay on fire!” I exclaimed.

Tom gave me and Peter a really confused look. “You lit a haystack on fire?”

I ignored him. “C’mon, Peter, it’s not gonna be hard. We just need an internet connection to connect to a database and search facial recognition. We photograph my face and search for it,” I pressed to my friend. Peter furrowed his brows in thought and heaved a sigh, refusing to meet my eyes for several moments while he thought.

“Fine. Let’s go find somewhere with internet.”

“All due respect, strangers,” Tom interrupted loudly. “It’s past midnight. You should get some sleep first. You're welcome here tonight but in the morning I want you gone. But, y’know, carefully. Because he has my face.” He nodded at Peter.

“Okay,” I replied. “Thank you, Mr. Holland.”

“No, please. Don’t call me that. Tom is fine. Mr. Holland is way too formal.”

“Very well. Thank you, Tom. We’ll be gone in the morning.”

He gave us a single nod and retreated down a hallway.

“I’ll take the floor,” Peter muttered. “You take the couch.”

“I can—”

“No. Don’t bother.” He sat down on the ground, cleared away the dust from our landing, and wrapped up in his jacket. I eased onto the couch, wrapped my jacket around my body, and burrowed down to sleep.

^^^^^

“Wow. It’s like looking in a mirror,” I muttered, peering across the university campus at the girl who looked just like me. Peter had his head down enough that no one would notice him or look twice, wearing a ball cap with the brim pulled low. “I thought you and the Holland-guy was weird but I'm looking at a girl who’s me. Wow.” Peter grunted but didn’t say anything.

I nudged him in the arm.

“C’mon,” I whispered. “Let’s go talk to her.”

“Let me go first,” Peter replied, edging around me and trotting down the hall. I followed him. “Excuse me?” he called. “Miss Harper?”

The girl who would one day be me on screen—maybe—looked up from her laptop. “Yeah?” Her face went slack. “Oh my gosh—has anyone ever told you that you look just like Tom Holland?” she asked in an awed tone.

“Yeah. All the time. Listen, my name is Peter Parker—you might know me as a comic book or movie character, but we’re real. And we’re in the wrong universe. We need your help to get back to ours.”

My doppelgänger tilted her head. “Who’s we?” she inquired curiously.

I came out from behind Peter. “Me and him,” I answered.

Miss Harper stared. “Oh. Well. Okay.” She opened and closed her mouth a couple times like a fish before regaining her composure. “So… what do you want me to do? I'm not a scientist. I'm studying to be an actor.”

“We mostly need your lack of fame to keep us hidden from the world,” Peter put in. “The actor who plays me has become high-profile because he plays me. But if, one day, you're cast as her—” He pointed at me. “—you haven't reached that level yet. So we need your help to find a way to get us home. Any research you can give us on anything like a Dimensional Cannon—or something.”

“A Dimension Cannon? Like in Doctor Who?”

“Yeah.”

Miss Harper bit some skin off her lower lip and looked down at her laptop. “Well, I can’t think of anything off the top of my head, but I am something of a Google master. Let me look.” She glanced at her watch. “Okay. Forty-five minutes till my next class. That should be enough time.” As she typed, her eyes looked up to me. “If anyone asks, say you're my twin. No one here really knows me so it won’t be too difficult for them to believe.”

“Thank you,” I offered. She nodded and returned her focus to her screen and her keyboard.

Peter and I sat down on the chairs next to her. Peter kept his head low, muttering something about ridiculous that I didn’t quite catch. Probably thinking it was ridiculous that he had to hide his face.

I had to say I agreed, but we couldn’t afford attention.

My doppelgänger slammed her hands down on the arms of her chair. “Shoot. I can’t find anything. Sorry guys, the technology doesn’t exist in this world yet.” She looked apologetic. I pursed my lips thoughtfully.

“It’s okay. We’ll figure something out.”

“Well, after my day is over, you can come back to my apartment with me.”

“Thank you,” I repeated. She nodded. I looked over at Peter. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I'm just trying to figure out if we could make a Dimension Cannon ourselves.”

I raised my eyebrows. My double didn’t notice, she was still peering at her screen curiously. “How?” I whispered to Peter as some guys walked past in basketball jerseys, loudly joking around with each other.

He gave me a smirk. “I have an idea. You're not going to like it, but I have an idea.”

[gulfish]

2, 3, 4, 7, 8!

FThese are good questions jo 👀👀👀

This might be a lot so i'm just gonna break it here

Fun meta asks for writers.

Tell us about what you're most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project.

Hands down, I'm most excited for season 3 of The Thief Returns (Status Quo)! I can't say it in detail but there's a part that me and my beta have been waiting for for a long time (like before I even started posting).

As for future projects, I couldn't really sleep last night because i was thinking of an Owlet fic.

What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

I'm actually kinda wrestling with this one rn, I have a really good (and angsty) idea for a carulia fic i'm writing, but i'm having some trouble dealing with all the prior stuff. Dunno if it'll ever see the light of day though... Long story short, Carmen unintentionally draws a bit too much attention to Julia and a VILE assassin hunts them both down.

Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I've got a few things I'm really pretty proud of! Technically it's 2 paragraphs, but since I'm still not sure whether i'm ever gonna post the fic at all i figure why not.

Devineaux made a noncommittal grunt before slumping back against the Blanton-Webster, and Julia returned her attention to the building. The sandstone façade granted many opportunities for a skilled climber to scale, but still all the windows remained shut and undamaged. Her eyes traced the strong architectural lines to the top, making note of the ornate details along the way. Julia was not the most knowledgeable of historical architecture, but she could not help but appreciate the blend of neoclassical and rococo styles unique to Nantes – Nantais Baroque, if she remembered right. Of course, any attempts to discuss the intricacies of the effect that western trade had on Nantes’ eighteenth-century architecture were brushed aside in favor of theories of Carmen’s evil schemes or simply silence.

Truthfully, Julia was tired of waiting – she had been for the past two hours – but Carmen gave Julia her word, and she’d be damned if she didn’t believe it. But even she had a breaking point, and it was rapidly approaching.

It just makes me feel smart!

I'm also really proud of s3e3, but I can't really post that without giving a whole lot away.

What do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? Would others agree?

Dialogue. Man, sometimes that feels like all I can really do! I write like i talk, and the characters just kinda have voices in my head. Honestly sometimes it feels like all i'm doing is transcribing a show i'm watching rather than writing stories. I know you know what's up Jo, you told me this one already.

Other than that, I'm not entirely sure. In terms of more narrative characteristics, I think I just like humor? Not always overt jokes being said by characters, but funny plots and actions. Like in my CS/TOH crossover, Carmen painstakingly works out that she's in Norway, completely missing the mushrooms with literal teeth. I dunno, i think that's pretty funny.

Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read?

Yes and no. I like hurt/comfort, but i tend to stay away from writing it because i never really feel like i can do it justice. I would if i could, but that's just not where i am yet.

that being said i also don't really like smut, reading or writing, so don't expect that from me any time soon.

[oh-mother-of-darkness]

Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering how do you handle an adult life? I'm 17 and the fact that I'm going to be an adult is starting to panic me more and more. Like I CANT talk to adults. I stutter&I'm a mess. I'm even bad with my peers. Some advice on how you do it would be nice. I try to ask my parents, but they aren't very helpful and seem ready to drop me into the deep end to "teach me" a lesson about being an adult. (Sorry again about non blog related question. No obligations to answer)

Oh boy, I’m gonna do my best to answer this, but full disclosure? I’m pretty bad at being social. I have some issues, and talking to people is really hard for me. That might be helpful in this context if you’re coming from a similar situation, but I don’t know if that’s the case, so it’s possible that my stuff won’t work for you. I’ll give it a whirl anyway.

I actually was thrown into the deep end when I was about your age, because I ended up going to college in a state where I pretty literally didn’t know a single person. I don’t know if that was a positive thing or not, but I can definitely say that I’ve gotten significantly better about talking/adulting since then. I’m still terrified of everyone older than me, but I can fake my way through the majority of it now. 

For me, the biggest step was increasing my self-esteem. When I started living on my own in ‘14, my goal was basically to be invisible (a skill that I mastered a looooong time ago). I have this thing about people looking at me, so I didn’t like any kind of attention. It definitely affected the way I talked to people (I didn’t) and the way I acted.

That shifted after I discovered a couple of things

1) some attention is positive, and positive attention feels good

2) I’m imagining a lot of the judgement I feel from other people

The truth is, people don’t pay as much attention to you as you think that they do. We’re all trapped inside our own heads, right? My frame of reference puts the majority of emphasis on me, because that’s the only person I can hear and the only emotions I can feel. The same is true about you– you hear your thoughts and feel your feelings, so it seems like everybody else should be focussed on you.

That’s your mind playing tricks. Don’t believe it. Everybody else is focussed on themselves, not you, and that’s a good thing! They’re not actually looking at you. They’re just looking around. As soon as y’all walk away from each other, odds are you’ll disappear from their mind. It means that you don’t have to worry about doing everything perfectly. They don’t actually care. 

Repeat that to yourself whenever you feel like you’re doing badly. It doesn’t matter. They don’t care. They’re not that concerned about the things that you do.

Two tactics for increasing your self esteem:

Find something you’re good at and do it. A lot. I started writing fanfiction when I was 18, and it straight-up changed my life. I’d never had that level of positive reinforcement before– for the first time in my life, I felt better than mediocre, and it made me proud of my own skills. Once I knew I was good at something it became a lot easier to talk to people.

(This is where you need to bear in mind that I’m not what the kids call “mentally stable” so like…. this might not be healthy) For a solid two years, I played this mind game where whenever I felt like somebody was judging me or being unkind to me, I picked one of my more angry favorite fictional characters and imagined them yelling back at that person. It worked really well for me because it let me fight back without actually doing it myself. I don’t really get angry, so I imagined someone getting angry on my behalf. Thing is, after awhile I really could think things like “I don’t deserve this” and “hey asshole back the hell off” in my own voice. I don’t know if I can explain that any better

Practical tips for maintaining a conversation:

Ask questions. It’s a lot easier to have a conversation if they’re doing most of the talking, and they won’t think it’s weird if you seem interested. Just keep them talking by asking for more information about whatever they just said.

They’ll get more comfortable (and more talkative) the more emotion you express. Listen actively. Nod along. Say stuff like “Really??” Your eyebrows are your friends. React to the stuff they say.

If you don’t know what emotion you’re expected to express, draw your eyebrows slightly in, rest a hand on your mouth/chin, and say “interesting.” They’ll interpret that as whatever response they were expecting.

 I feel more comfortable if I’m prepared, so I straight-up have memorized anecdotes that I practice until they go smoothly. I mostly use stories about my siblings, but I also have this speech about communism that I use every time someone asks me what I’m thinking about.

I don’t know what kind of English you speak, but I realized a long time ago that if I amp up my accent, other southerners trust me more and everyone else sees me as less threatening. If that applies, use it.

Don’t be ashamed of your interests. It might seem embarrassing, but other people don’t see it that way. Niche comic book knowledge actually goes over pretty well at parties. Related tip: find The Interest of the person you’re talking to, and your life will get a lot easier. Let them teach you about it and they literally will not shut up. It’s great. Also you get good recs that way.

Tips to get people to like you:

Be helpful. Good in two ways: if you don’t know what you’re supposed to be doing and that makes you feel anxious, ask whomever is in charge if there’s something you can do to help. They’ll be charmed, and you won’t feel awkward anymore. Also good because people really like the folks that do them favors. They also like the people they did favors for, so let people do things for you if they offer.

Everybody likes the kid that brought food. Bake cookies. Bring cookies. New friends. Even if you don’t talk to them afterwards, they’ll have a positive opinion of you. I never spoke to the majority of my dorm neighbors, but they all liked me because I set candy and juice boxes in the hallway every holiday. In a classroom setting, offer to share your gum, buy extra scantrons, and lend people your pens. 

I befriend people solely by throwing gifts at them until they feel my love. Ask any of my mutuals. They’ll tell you.

Kindness honestly goes a long way? A lot of people, especially young people, really need someone to be kind to them, and they’re not used to getting that. If you can be that person, it’ll help them and it will make the two of you a lot closer. That’s how real friendships start. 

Always be respectful of other people’s trust. If they tell you important things about themselves, treat it seriously. Try to understand how they feel, and then let them know that you understand. Don’t tell other people’s secrets.

Tips for forcing yourself to Do The Thing:

I keep my to do list on post-it notes stuck to my dresser, one item per note, so I can pull them off one at a time as I do them. It’s more satisfying that way.

Personally I’m a lot more willing to do the things I hate if I feel like I’m doing them for someone else. Easiest way is to get one of my friends to ask me to do it (Hey in an hour text me and tell me to go to the grocery store). The best way is to bargain with one of my friends (if you call your doctor, I’ll make a real dinner tonight)

Again… I don’t know if you’re coming from the same place as me, but it really helps me to be open about my problems. I just tell my friends about my mental health issues, and then they help me to work around them.

Treat!!! Yo!!!! Self!!!! Seriously reward yourself for getting things done. Give yourself an episode of The Office for every page you write. Buy yourself ice cream for getting your errands done. If you’re going to do something stressful, have a plan for something relaxing afterward (I’ll go to the induction ceremony, and then I’ll go to the puppy store and pet a beagle)

[Eliza voice] 🎶 T a k e  a  b r e a k 🎶 If socializing is hard for you, realize that you don’t have to do it all the time. It’s okay to opt out, especially when you won’t lose anything by doing it. Personally, I go out of my way to make sure that no one speaks to me on the bus, walking across campus, or during lunch. Those are me-times. You can make sure people get the memo by wearing big headphones, bringing a book (even if you’re only pretending to read it), and avoiding eye contact. 

I find music really helpful for prep/recovery too. It works best if you find one song and play it on repeat until you get to the stressful thing, and  then do the same thing on the way back. Focus on one element of the song at a time. If you do it right, you can hit this meditative sweet spot where you stop thinking about what you have to do.

Stress relief (take it with a grain of salt because I am 95% stress at any given time):

Make your bedroom into a happy place. Pick a strong scent and make that part of the atmosphere– your brain will start to associate that scent with calm. My room smells like Irish Spring soap. When you finish something stressful, go to your room, take a few minutes to lie down and relax, breathe in and out, smell the happy smell. You did it.

Do stupid shit that makes you happy. Blow bubbles on your porch, put colored glassware on your windowsills so the sunlight turns red and blue, sing in your bathroom so it echoes all over the place. 

I hate admitting this with every fiber of my being, but exercise does actually reduce stress. So does eating healthy and sleeping normally, but I’ve never tried those last two.

If something makes you happy, keep it around. Save birthday cards, display presents from your friends, keep a happy tag online so you have a list of stuff to come back to. Your brain will remember the positive reaction, so it’ll undo some of the damage when you’re upset. 

Making other people happy will make you happy. Easiest method? Hit that anon button on the asks, pick the top five people on your dashboard, send them a nice message. Wait for excited response

It’s okay to google “cute babies” and scroll through pics until you feel alive again

I find it helpful to make things. I don’t know, there’s something about spending a long time on a project that makes me feel more productive, especially if there’s a visible product.

Things to remember: 

They aren’t watching you. They don’t care if you mess up. Your brain is lying to you.

Your worth is inherent and cannot be diminished by any of your actions or failures

Odds are the people you meet now won’t be the same people in your life in a few years. That means you don’t have to impress them. If you embarrass yourself in front of the lady at the brochure stand, it doesn’t matter. You probably won’t ever see her again.

It’s okay if this is hard for you. You don’t have to love meeting people.

You don’t have to like everyone. You don’t have to be friends with everyone.

It’s okay to say no. I repeat: it is okay to say no.

You’re going to be okay. You have a destiny, and you will fulfill it. It’s going to turn out exactly as it should. You don’t have to worry about your future.

These things get easier with time.

There’s no shame in seeing a therapist or talking about your problems

You have talents. You are interesting. You deserve attention and praise.

You know where to find me if you need anything