#class of 3000: back to the SING!

[eminsunnytoons123]

Wait, y'all? I have a question...

I'm asking this because I headcanoned Cheddar man and Bianca to have both, and its because my IRL bestie Michelle told me that they can, so I just wanna make sure...

[boysbellyrubs]

Hello!! I don’t know if this is too specific, but I would love for you to write something like it!! (Only if you want to tho ofc!!) Btw, I know their is no sickness in the ask, but you could put in an upset tummy from A.

A comes home after an incredibly rough day and is almost on the verge of tears. All they want is a hug and cuddles from their partner B. But B doesn’t pick up on their partners trouble and makes a snide remark or snaps at them mindlessly. They don’t realize anythings wrong until A bursts into tears . . . End in fluff pls!!(I think this would be so cute for Alistar and Nikau!! - sorry if I spelled it wrong) Thank you if you decide to do it!! ❤️❤️

here is the fic I promised before :D, it's quite long almost 3000 words. the ending is mid, i hope i have met both of your expectations with your asks. thank you very much for both of them hehe.

---

Alistair, being Alistair, had made his day ten times worse than it already was. He had already anticipated a bad day, and his manifestation seemed to actually come true, just to spite him. His mood was down the drain, his outfit was shit, his classes were boring and everything about him felt awful. His stomach was terribly upset, he didn’t know if he was hungry or the stupid thing was getting sick, so as a result he was starving and bloated, belly pushing into his pants. Thankfully, his last class was wrapping up, an hour long tutorial that he didn’t contribute anything too; rather he sat in the corner leaning against the wall. He was sure he didn’t pick up anything the tutor was saying, let alone take any notes. 

However, moving along he packed up his stuff with the sluggishness of a sloth, and dragged his feet out of the classroom. The person in front of him dropped the door on his face too, just his fucking luck. He scowled at their stupid haircut and started walking towards the bus stop. Oh, that was another thing, Nikau had needed the car today so he had to walk to University and now he was destined to go on a packed bus with a bunch of business men and crying babies. Joy. 

The walk to the stop, Alistair reflected on how much of an awful day he had. It was downright laughable, he could’ve been on a sitcom with the amount of things that went wrong. His laptop was low on battery, the library was packed full of people, and he had only one hour breaks between all of his classes and lectures. And he was already pissed before his stomach even started to riot. So, on top of everything, his stomach gurgling away at him all day was like an incessant fly that wouldn’t stop flying around his ears. 

As he walked, he found himself unconsciously holding his belly. He didn’t care what he looked like, other people be damned, all he wanted was to feel better. The walk seemed to take forever, the smell of tarmac, the sight of construction, the noise of city life, Alistair felt like his brain was melting. He zeroed in on the bus stop sign, willing himself to move faster. 

It was empty. The lone bench was blissfully quiet as he heavily threw himself down on it. He shucked his bag off, sitting it against him, and threw his head back. His hair was sticking to the nape of his neck, gross, and his legs felt like jelly. Hot electricity coursed through his hands and arms, raising goosebumps and sending warning signals to his brain. He was sick. So sick yet so far from home. The bus was coming in ten minutes, the ten most agonising minutes of Alistair’s life. He wrapped both arms around his middle, holding it in place as it grumbled away incessantly. 

His thoughts began to wander then. To his assignments, his boyfriend, the birds singing their annoying songs, how sick he felt. It was all coming together in Alistair’s mind, and in all honesty he wanted it to stop. His own brain almost made him break down at that bus stop. He ducked his head and sucked in harshly between his teeth, forcing the tears back into his tear ducts. Sickness floored him every time, broke down every emotional defence he had up, like a crack in a dam that grew and grew until a huge wave finally broke through. The pain in his belly, the overstimulating noise, the knowledge that every assignment would have to be pushed back for him to recover, was too much existentialism for the bus stop. 

He gathered himself. Alistair turned to stare at where the bus would appear. He sat back on the bench, needing to feel the solid wood behind him. The gurgling hit a sharp note, his measly breakfast rumbling through the pit of his stomach. The organ twisted on bits of bread, trying to digest something that wouldn’t move past his stomach. He rubbed a hand over the tight spot. 

Focusing on his own body, he didn’t notice the bus finally arriving. It pulled into the stop and Alistair had to force himself up, feeling his back slouch and his knees wobble, he stepped up onto the bus and sat on the closest free seat. He stared out the window, pulling a deep breath into his lungs. He closed his eyes, hoping the bus ride was the smoothest of his life. 

—

Alistair trudged through the front door, groaning loudly to announce his presence. He pretty much threw his bag onto the ground, slamming the front door with his foot. The bus messed up his stomach even more, the churning getting worse and morphing into a nauseating mess inside him. He wrapped his left arm around his bloated belly, hunching over and went searching for Nikau. 

The house was quiet, the only sound were Alistair’s heavy footfalls. God, he hated being sick. He groaned again when his stomach bubbled, the bug getting angrier by the second the longer he ignored it. 

He got tired of searching, “Nikau! Are you here babe?” 

There was a muffled reply that came from the bedroom. Alistair smiled to himself, excited to see his boyfriend after the day he’s had. His legs were heavy as he climbed up the stairs; the landing felt like it kept stretching further away from him like an oasis in a desert. His head pounded as he ascended making him shut his eyes as he finally made it to the second floor. Alistair pretty much threw his hand on the knob, knocking it down as he pushed his way inside the bedroom. 

Nikau was on the bed, headphones in and laptop resting on his lap. He immediately brought a finger up to his lips, silencing Alistair’s planned complaint. Nikau’s face was very serious as he went back to staring at the laptop screen. The redheads mood decreased further, no longer feeling as excited as he was before, realising that he was going to have to wait. 

Nonetheless, he sat down on the bed, flopping backward onto the pillow. His stomach rolled, making him groan deeply with the movement. Nikua shot him a look that withered the seed of hope in his chest. Alistair stole a look at the computer screen and saw the all familiar squares of a Zoom meeting. He frowned, Nikau hadn’t mentioned this at all so it must have been sudden. No wonder he was so pissed off. 

Alistair closed his eyes, throwing his forearm over his eyes. The darkness was incredibly comforting, the tension in his eyebrows and jaw releasing. His other hand was rubbing along the harsh lines on his lower belly where his jeans had been cutting into him. Alistair’s tummy rumbled, nausea increasing as he sat in darkness. He almost hoped Nikau was taking notice without him having to utter a word. 

The room was quiet. Alistair heard the little taps of Nikau’s keyboard flowing into his ears. It was like ASMR, quieting the anxious little voice that wouldn’t shut up. He couldn’t wait till Nikau’s Zoom was over. He conjured up an image of both of them on the couch, Nikau’s hand rubbing soft circles into Alistair’s belly, muting the upset gurgles, with cups of tea and something stupid on the TV to distract him. Getting into bed and falling asleep with Nikau’s strong arms wrapped around his middle, magically getting better by the morning. 

Alistair caught himself smiling at the thought. So dramatic. He huffed at his own voice. He breathed deeply, stomach inflating with breath. After everything, he almost fell asleep. However, Nikau had decided to slam his laptop shut, sighing angrily and pushing himself off the bed with a huff. 

The bed shook and Alistair’s stomach sloshed, a heavy gurgle spreading across his middle. He threw his arm off his eyes, watching Nikau pace around the room and finally coming to a stop at the windowsill, leaning on it like he was in a period drama. Alistair sat up, 

“Nikau?” 

“What?” The word was spat out like a curse. Alistair immediately wondered what the Zoom had been about. 

“Are you alright?” Alistair didn’t notice how shaky his voice sounded, and neither did Nikau apparently. He turned around with a stormy look in his eyes, the setting sun outlined him. Alistair had to squint to look at him. 

Nikau shook his head roughly, “Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to talk about it.” 

Alistair sighed, now nervous about telling him his own problems. He didn’t have the chance though, Nikau already moving out of the room. Alistair got up to follow, vertigo crashing into him. He lost his footing a little, stumbling towards the dresser. He moaned as the world tilted sideways. Nikau turned around, 

“What is wrong, Star? I don’t have the energy right now.” His words stung, but he knew Nikau didn’t really mean them. 

“N-nothing.” As soon as the word left his mouth Nikau turned around and disappeared from sight. Alistair leaned against the dresser more, taking deep breaths in and out. His stomach was spinning, echoing his head. The more he stood there, the more anxious he felt about throwing up. It was definitely on the horizon and he felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes. Alistair made his way to the bathroom, vomiting inevitable. 

His hand never left the wall, hunched over himself as the nausea increased the closer he got to the bathroom door. He slapped a hand over his mouth as he gagged, vomit filling his mouth and burning his tongue. He burst into the bathroom and leaned over the toilet, vomit spilling from his lips. He coughed harshly, a heave bringing up another fierce wave as he almost fell forward. His stomach gurgled, a wet burp preceding another gag and a mouthful of vomit. He had a moment of reprieve and he sat himself down, knees slamming into the tile. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, leaning over the toilet now that he had more stability. 

His stomach brought up another wave, and Alistair was surprised at the amount of vomit coming up. Coughing, panting and groaning was all that was heard around the walls of the bathroom. Alistair thought he was being loud, but apparently not loud enough for Nikau to notice. He groaned, his neck losing its strength and his head fell forward. The gurgling noises coming from his insides weren’t letting up, it almost felt like they were getting louder. He forced up a burp, which only made him gag, spitting up a chunky mouthful. Alistair moaned, arms squeezing tighter. 

“Fuck.” He whined, clearing his throat and hating the feeling of his saliva dangling from his lips. His knees ached on the floor. His headache grew, a pulsing right behind his eyes. His mouth filled with saliva again, jaw tingling, and another wave was brought up into the mess in front of him. His gut finally started to calm down a little so he took the time to catch his breath. Everything was aching, he was freezing, and now he was hiccuping. He sighed, running a hand down his sweaty face. His hair was sticking to his forehead now and he felt disgusting. 

He sniffled, spitting out the last remains. His hands shook as he flushed away the mess. He shakily stood, washed his hands quickly and threw some water over his face and swirled some in his mouth. He hoped Nikau had calmed down a little, it was already bad enough he felt like shit he didn’t want to feel even worse by making Nikau upset. 

Alistair left the bathroom with a heavy gait. His journey down the stairs was thankfully uneventful, but by the time he made it down he felt weaker than he did immediately after vomiting. He felt like he was about to pass out. Making his way slowly to the living room, he kept his arm wrapped around his middle and found Nikau scrolling on his phone. 

He cleared his throat, “Nikau?” 

The man hummed, not even looking at Alistair. Alistair sagged a little, a bit defeated that his boyfriend was paying him any attention. He moved on then, to the kitchen where he fixed himself a healthy meal of ibuprofen and water. He gulped down a mouthful, wary of drinking too much. He leant back against it, staring out at the back of Nikau’s head. He still was curious as to what had upset him so much, but he knew he needed to let Nikau deal with it on his own for a bit. 

All this thinking distracted him from his condition, but a cramp hit his belly right as he relaxed a bit too much. He gasped, his hand clutching his tummy, the ibuprofen coming back with a vengeance. He powered through it alone, fever addled brain making him feel worse that Nikau hadn’t even got up from his seat at Alistair’s noise. His pitiful thinking brought on more tears, but these were unable to be stopped. They made tracks down his cheeks, meeting on his jawline and falling to the ground. His belly cramped again, Alistair hunching over himself and using the bench as a support to not fall immediately to the ground. 

He clamped a hand over his mouth when a sob broke through, desperately trying to make himself quiet. Nikau didn’t need extra worry. Nikau didn’t want extra worry. Nikau didn’t want to help. 

No matter how much he tried to be silent, Alistair’s cries weren’t unheard. Nikau turned his head, noticing right away the state Alistair was in. He got up in a rush, throwing his phone down and approached his sickly boyfriend. 

His hands landed on Alistair’s upper arms, “Star, hey are you okay?”

Alistair fell forward, his forehead landing on Nikau’s shoulder. His cries got louder then, “No, I feel like absolute rubbish, Nikau. My belly hurts.” He whined, arms winding tighter around his middle. 

“Oh, love, I’m so sorry for not noticing. How long have you felt like this?” His hands moved to Alistair’s warm back, moving up and down his spine. 

“Since lunch. I thought I might have just been hungry but it just got worse,” He paused, unsure if he should say this, “I threw up before.” 

Nikau reeled back, eyes desperately searching Alistair’s face, “For real?” 

Alistair nodded, a few more tears slipping past his eyes. Nikau sighed, pulling Alistair back into a gentle hug. The heat from Alistair’s body made Nikau feel warm, and he connected the dots as to why his boyfriend was so upset. He felt terrible. But, now that he understood he knew exactly what to do. 

He pulled back more slowly this time, watching Alistair’s eyes flutter with another cramp. He hissed in sympathy. 

“Okay, sweetheart let's get you settled. I’ll get you feeling better in no time.” He tried to peel Alistair off the counter as gently as possible, coming around to his side and wrapping his arm around his shoulders. They moved as one towards the living room, Nikau depositing Alistair on the couch and reaching for the nearest blanket to lay over his lap. He leant forward and got Alistair’s attention by cupping his hands on his jaw, 

“Be right back.” 

Alistair watched him leave, sinking down into the couch. His thoughts were still running, but as he sat down he admittedly felt a tad better. His stomach calmed down a little, and his legs were thankful that he was sitting down and resting. Alistair leaned his head back on the couch, hand resting on the crest of his swollen stomach. 

He barely moved when Nikau returned, he heard a bucket be placed on the coffee table, and he felt the couch dip as Nikau sat next to him. The man touched his knee, 

“You feeling okay? You don’t look so good, babe.” 

Alistair shook his head, “I really don’t feel good.” Turning his head he met Nikau’s eyes, a pitiful expression on his face. Nikau made a clicking noise with his teeth, sitting a little closer to put his hand on Alistair’s belly. He leaned forward and kissed his cheek as he started to rub Alistair’s upset stomach. 

Alistair moaned, the cramps coming back with the touch of Nikau’s fingertips. He pushed his stomach out, needing the pressure and comforting weight. Nikau quickly got the memo, pushing a little deeper into his belly. He burped, covering his mouth with his hand. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. If you need to let them out just do it.” 

The man groaned at the feel of another burp forcing its way up his throat. His hand joined Nikau on his tummy, rubbing the underside as it swelled with pressure. His stomach wasn’t perfectly flat, yet the softness of his belly was completely overtaken by the bloating of this illness, the skin stretched tight as it worked its way through his guts. His throat jumped at a wet burp, chest lurching. Nikau paused, 

“Are you gonna throw up?” 

Alistair shook his head, “Just gassy.” 

Nikau hummed, kissing his cheek again. The room fell silent bar Alistair’s stomach and burping. There was a tension in the air though, Nikau was the first to break it. 

“I’m sorry about not noticing how sick you were before. Also, I ignored you when you were clearly ill. I’m sorry, Star.” 

Alistair didn’t really know what to say. His brain was too muddled to come up with a response, too much pain and exhaustion, so he just shook his head and leaned into Nikau, hoping that was enough to get Nikau to relax. It felt like he did, his hand was still rubbing along the swell of his belly and his other hand was playing with the wavy strands of hair at the crown of Alistair’s head.  ---

pls don't flop

[silyabeeodess]

FusionFall Headcanons: Sunny Bridges

Sadly, Class of 3000's representation in the game is pretty minimal--with mainly just the Sunny Bridges' Auditorium giving it a spotlight. With that, my own headcanons for how its characters would fit in FusionFall have also been limited, as there just isn't much material to go off of. However, inspired from returning to some of the show's music, I'd like to expand on ideas I've had sprinkled with other posts I've made. For now, let's focus on none other than Sunny Bridges himself:

With the auditorium situated in what might be the heart of entertainment for the City areas, Marquee Row, it's unlikely that Sunny originally intended for it to be anything other than a typical venue. Likely constructed prior to his days as a teacher, he may not have even cared for it at all depending on whether or not it was built by the time he started losing his passion for music. It was just another mark of the fame that was wearing him down. However, after his experiences teaching, he started using the auditorium to give young and upcoming artists the chance to explore their own talent on a professional stage. Classes and workshops could be taught there alongside the big concerts, and the auditorium grew as a place of both education and community.

It should go without saying that his time as a teacher revitalized his passion, enough for Sunny to continue acting as a mentor. He might still have issues with the music industry itself, but he's found himself again, along with the importance of music in his life and the lives of those around him. Thanks to that, he wants to keep passing on those lessons and bits of wisdom to others.

That strength in music came in-full when the war hit. The invasion stretched across every community around the globe, with a sense of peace stripped from everyone. Even when nanos were introduced and the tide began to turn, with nothing to help people escape from the daily terrors and lack of normalcy, morale was low. However, that is one of the great powers of art: To give moments of escapism, beauty, and hope in otherwise awful situations. In a situation where people can't even walk out of their homes without facing monsters, where soldiers constantly roam through the streets, when all the places and things you did that you used to find comfort in have been taken from you... Music is something anyone can take part in no matter where they are or what they have. You don't even need tools or instruments when you've got a voice to sing with, feet to dance with, and hands to beat out a rhythm. Music is something any person can take with them anywhere and can be the most widespread and uplifting of the arts. Sunny knows this, and so his part of the war effort was to share that spirit with anyone who needed it.

The Fusion Fighter radio network was already established when Sunny began volunteering himself and his students. However, Sunny plays one of, if not the, biggest role for it. Besides his own music, he also has the connections to bring in many other great artists. Again, he may not like the music industry, but his knowledge of it and his work with his students has given him some means of handling a good chunk of the administrative stuff many other creatives can have difficulty managing. He can get a jumble of talents working like a well-oiled machine. He'll help set up live performances as well, particularly in the City areas and especially at the base in the underground mall.

Inevitably, these efforts that were once his step away from the spotlight have dragged Sunny back in. Before his name could fade from people's minds after he left stardom, he ended up becoming a figurehead among all of these war-time entertainers. Anyone who didn't know him before certainly knows him now, whether or not they're fans of his music. Resuming his celebrity status isn't something he wants, and he makes that point well-known. Nevertheless, he's also glad that his music is reaching people and for all the right reasons.

Sadly, Fuse does not think the same way. Of course, the tyrant won't go after artists the same as he will other figures in the war effort, but he has caught on to how much hope and inspiration Sunny gives to people. If Sunny is ever left vulnerable, Fuse's army will take the chance to take him out. On the upside, there's also plenty of soldiers who'll gladly protect the musician when called.

[cacklingblobbittyrabbitty]

super super unhinged rainbow magic post 9 of 12

If you thought the creation of an entire backstory for Bethany the Ballet Fairy was extreme please brace yourself further it’s gonna get EVEN BETTER

SPORTS FAIRIES

Helena

She do be riding horses doe - she’s doing the dressage babey and she’s a successful medal winner!

This is top quality shit man

Favourite part: sparkly boots!!!

Least favourite part: kill me the necklaces are back

Cute hairnet tho we love some safety!

Francesca

First braids! Whoop whoop! However some of the beads are not attached to her braids lmao

I want the hair to be a darker brown colour as well tbh

Necklace ew murder murder death death death

Shoes don’t match her outfit and it HURTS

Apart from that the outfit is basic but cute (crop makes it cute)

Pulls off the knee-high footie socks surprisingly well

HEADCANONS:

Dynamic attacker (not defender thank you very much), she kisses her girlfriend on the field, and she plays for brazil

Zoe

YESSSSSSS THIS IS WHAT YOU CALL DYNAMIC

Why is her left skate so fat has she broken + taped her ankle? This is canon now that she has, bitch has broken EVERY bone possible

The fingerless gloves are INCREDIBLE

I’m glad about the lack of elbow guards because they would reduce the pointiness of her elbows which are the single most effective murder weapon in fairyland

I love the stars! It’s so 80s and cheesy and I love them!

Why is her necklace a roller skate wheel though (rolls eyes)

Dyed hair?? A queen

A great red

She dyed it to match her skates!

COMMITTED TO HER SPORT also she has a trophy wall plus she roller-derby-murders women in her spare time and she’s happy about it

HEADCANONS:

Naomi - there is no netball in the united states (there is no war in ba sing se)

Can’t believe that this girl has bunches, ribbons AND a headband!!! It’s overkill imo

The necklace is a decent size but AS PER FUCKIN USUAL would be better if not there

Trainers are cute

It’s a netball outfit! At least it’s cuter than my high school netball outfits, but that’s because it’s a middle-class-ass netball outfit but I do like the peppiness

Strong use of colour! Thumbs up!

Trans girl that secretly wants to be a horse girl (gasp but like fair enough horses are objectively cooler than netball, even though she plays for the school team)

Hey you definitely Do Not Remember Bethany the Ballet Fairy’s chin shape but Naomi has the same one which means SHE IS BETHANY’S LITTLE SISTER

HEADCANONS:

Samantha (swimming)

The grey streaks are perplexing cos surely she’s not Old but honestly she is kinda rocking it, I love the hair but you Know it’s full of salt at all times

The use of goggles as a headband is decently cute!

Why does it have to be a two-piece if it’s going to cover the same amount of torso as a one-piece? I guess it makes going to the loo easy tho tbf

Very 2000s design omg

Fucking skirt could be cute but you can tell it feels so horribly artifical

Anklet is cute!

Barefoot QUEEN in tune with nature

Mum friend - she is the sunscreen queen, she has an straw beach bag entirely full of snacks, and she is so nice and chill   

She is not a professional swimmer AT ALL, she just goes to the swimming pool at the resort every year

Possibly the only straight fairy (experimented once with a girl but mainly likes men)

She knows breaststroke and doggy paddle and she thinks doggy paddle is a stroke

Everyone else is super fucking stressed out at the pool doing like actual lengths and exercise and Samantha is like do you want to come and do backflips with me in the deep end?

HEADCANONS:

Alice

The swirls are so cute! She definitely embroidered them herself

I want it to be a dress with a slightly higher waistline instead of a top with an overly long torso

Great job on a matching tennis racket that goes with your accessories - she painted it, DIY queen

Hair is BEAUTIFUL

Shoes are from the year 3000 omg so modernnnnn

The lil visor thing! Adorable! SO iconic

Alice is Naomi’s twin sister and Bethany’s younger sister, and she’s a massive girly girl. She’s the youngest child in the family, there’s not much pressure on her so she’s a chill kid. She’s cis and she’s a massive ally. Alice is absolutely the most likely out of everyone to go to the swimming pool with Samantha - Bethany never comes with her but 50% of the time Alice can get Naomi to come and hang out at the pool

Gemma

RHYTHMIC GYMNASTICS REPRESENTATION BABEY with the HOOPS and the RIBBON hell YEAH she definitely competes internationally

Outfit is bloody beautiful and it MATCHES HER HOOP

The yellow leggings are stupid but I like them

Her hair is in competition mode rn it is a good SOLID bun - the ribbon is for aesthetic only

Colour scheme showing support for Ukraine

Necklace is NOT gymnastics worthy full stop

[escapetoluna]

How to learn a language when you don’t know where to start:

General Plan:

Weeks 1 and 2: Purpose:

Learn the fundamentals sentence construction

Learn how to spell and count

Start building a phrase stockpile with basic greetings

The Alphabet

Numbers 1 - 100

Subject Pronouns

Common Greetings

Conjugate the Two Most Important Verbs: to be and to have

Basic Definite and Indefinite Articles

Weeks 3 and 4: Purpose:

Learn essential vocabulary for the day-to-day

Start conjugating regular verbs

Days of the Week and Months of the Year

How to tell the time

How to talk about the weather

Family Vocabulary

Present Tense Conjugations Verbs

Weeks 5 and 6: Purpose:

Warm up with the last of the day-to-day vocabulary

Add more complex types of sentences to your grammar

Colours

House vocabulary

How to ask questions

Present Tense Conjugations Verbs

Forming negatives

Weeks 7 and 8: Purpose:

Learn how to navigate basic situations in a region of your target language country

Finish memorising regular conjugation rules

Food Vocabulary and Ordering at Restaurants

Money and Shopping Phrases

Present Tense Conjugations Verbs

Weeks 9 and 10: Purpose:

Start constructing descriptive and more complex sentences

Adjectives

Reflective verbs

Places vocabulary

Weeks 11 and 12: Purpose:

Add more complex descriptions to your sentences with adverbs

Wrap up vocabulary essentials

Adverbs

Parts of the body and medical vocabulary

Tips for Learning a Foreign Language:

Learning Vocabulary:

What vocabulary should I be learning?

There are hundreds of thousands of words in every language, and the large majority of them won’t be immediately relevant to you when you’re starting out.Typically, the most frequent 3000 words make up 90% of the language that a native speaker uses on any given day. Instead try to learn the most useful words in a language, and then expand outwards from there according to your needs and interests.

Choose the words you want/need to learn.

Relate them to what you already know.

Review them until they’ve reached your long-term memory.

Record them so learning is never lost.

Use them in meaningful human conversation and communication.

How should I record the vocabulary?

Learners need to see and/or hear a new word of phrase 6 to 17 times before they really know a piece of vocabulary.

Keep a careful record of new vocabulary.

Record the vocabulary in a way that is helpful to you and will ensure that you will practice the vocabulary, e.g. flashcards.

Vocabulary should be organised so that words are easier to find, e.g. alphabetically or according to topic.

Ideally when noting vocabulary you should write down not only the meaning, but the grammatical class, and example in a sentence, and where needed information about structure.

How should I practice using the vocabulary?

Look, Say, Cover, Write and Check - Use this method for learning and remembering vocabulary. This method is really good for learning spellings.

Make flashcards. Write the vocabulary on the front with the definition and examples on the back.

Draw mind maps or make visual representations of the new vocabulary groups.

Stick labels or post it notes on corresponding objects, e.g when learning kitchen vocabulary you could label items in your house.

How often should I be practising vocabulary?

A valuable technique is ‘the principle of expanding rehearsal’. This means reviewing vocabulary shortly after first learning them then at increasingly longer intervals.

Ideally, words should be reviewed:

5-10 minutes later

24 hours later

One week later

1-2 months later

6 months later

Knowing a vocabulary item well enough to use it productively means knowing:

Its written and spoken forms (spelling and pronunciation).

Its grammatical category and other grammatical information

Related words and word families, e.g. adjective, adverb, verb, noun.

Common collocations (Words that often come before or after it).

Receptive Skills: Listening and Reading

Reading is probably one of the most effective ways of building vocabulary knowledge.

Listening is also important because it occupies a big chunk of the time we spend communicating.

Tips for reading in a foreign language:

Start basic and small.  Children’s books are great practice for beginners. Don’t try to dive into a novel or newspaper too early, since it can be discouraging and time consuming if you have to look up every other word.

Read things you’ve already read in your native language. The fact that you at least know the gist of the story will help you to pick up context clues, learn new vocabulary and grammatical constructions.

Read books with their accompanying audio books. Reading a book while listening to the accompanying audio will improve your “ear training”. It will also help you to learn the pronunciation of words.

Tips for listening in a foreign language:

Watch films in your target language.

Read a book while also listening along to the audio book version.

Listen to the radio in your target language.

Watch videos online in your target language.

Activities to do to show that you’ve understood what you’ve been listening to:

Try drawing a picture of what was said.

Ask yourself some questions about it and try to answer them.

Provide a summary of what was said.

Suggest what might come next in the “story.”

Translate what was said into another language.

“Talk back” to the speaker to engage in imaginary conversation.

Productive Skills: Speaking and Writing

Tips for speaking in a foreign language:

If you can, try to speak the language every day either out loud to yourself or chat to another native speaker whether it is a colleague, a friend, a tutor or a language exchange partner. 

Write a list of topics and think about what you could say about each one. First you could write out your thoughts and then read them out loud. Look up the words you don’t know. You could also come up with questions at the end to ask someone else.

A really good way to improve your own speaking is to listen to how native speakers talk and imitate their accent, their rhythm of speech and tone of voice. Watch how their lips move and pay attention to the stressed sounds. You could watch interviews on YouTube or online news websites and pause every so often to copy what you have just heard. You could even sing along to songs sung in the target language.

Walk around the house and describe what you say. Say what you like or dislike about the room or the furniture or the decor. Talk about what you want to change.This gets you to practise every day vocabulary.

Tips for writing in a foreign language:

Practice writing in your target language. Keep it simple to start with. Beginner vocabulary and grammar concepts are generally very descriptive and concrete.

Practice writing by hand. Here are some things you can write out by hand:

Diary entries

Shopping lists

Reminders

What could I write about?

Write about your day, an interesting event, how you're feeling, or what you're thinking.

Make up a conversation between two people. 

Write a letter to a friend, yourself, or a celebrity. You don't need to send it; just writing it will be helpful.

Translate a text you've written in your native language into your foreign language.

Write a review or a book you've recently read or a film you've recently watched.

Write Facebook statuses, Tweets or Tumblr posts (whether you post them or not will be up to you).

Write a short story or poem.

Writing is one of the hardest things to do well as a non-native speaker of a language, because there’s no room to hide. 

There are lots of ways to improve your writing ability, but they can be essentially boiled down to three key components:

Read a lot

Write a lot

Get your writing corrected

[eponymous-rose]

I wrote a bunch of campaign 1 Critical Role fics back in 2016/17, and I guess I’m hoping to write more soon (????), so here’s the list as it stands, mostly for my own reference, organized by approximate latest episode of spoilers. Heavy on the gen/action/found-family stuff because that’s how I do.

Set Pre-Series (no spoilers)

Thieves’ Tools  [Vex, Vax | T | 7700 words]

Shortly after finding the ruins of their hometown, Vex hires herself and her brother for a bit of thievery.

Ragged Chorus  [Pike, ensemble | T | 2800 words]

Early in their adventures, Vox Machina clashes over a disastrous encounter, and Pike finds herself stepping in.

Safety  [Percy, ensemble | T | 6400 words]  

Glimpses into Vox Machina’s early impressions of their gunslinger.

Somatic [Allura/Kima | T | 2500 words]

Shortly after their first meeting, Allura can’t seem to shake this stubborn, abrasive paladin who seems determined to protect her.

What Seas What Shores [Pike | T | 2600 words]

Pike, aboard Broken Howl.

Non-Canon, Set Pre-Series (no spoilers)

Detour [ensemble | T | 1000 words]

What changes. What doesn’t. Glimpses into the world where Vox Machina swaps classes.

Spoilers Through Episode 38 (Echoes of the Past)

Everything (Anything) True [Scanlan | T | 3200 words]

Scanlan’s a master of deception. Turns out reality is a moving target when the words you sing keep changing it.

Spoilers Through Episode 45 (Those Who Walk Away…)

One Compass Guides [Pike/Vex | T | 1000 words]

Pike knows there’s a conversation she and Vex still need to have. She’s not really sure what to say or how to say it, but she’ll be there, and she figures that’ll have to do for now.

Spoilers Through Episode 50 (Best-Laid Plans)

Acts of Kindness  [Percy, Grog | T | 1200 words]

Grog corners Percy in his workshop to confront him about a certain sword.

Spoilers Through Episode 52 (The Kill Box)

Fear of Falling  [Vex, ensemble | T | 4300 words]

Vex’s brushes with death, interspersed with quieter missing scenes.

Spoilers Through Episode 58 (A Cycle of Vengeance)

One Chance  [Cassandra, Vex | T | 1300 words]

The worst thing about family is that sometimes it’s not complicated. Sometimes it’s very, very simple.

Non-Canon, Spoilers Through Episode 58 (A Cycle of Vengeance)

Parallel [Pike, ensemble | T | 3500 words]

Faith, death, and life: these are the conversations Pike never had, and the universe that could’ve grown up around them.

Spoilers Through Episode 63 (The Echo Tree)

Hand over Fist  [Vex, ensemble | T | 6800 words]

Four times, four seasons, when Vex kept watch over her family.

Spoilers Through Episode 64 (The Frigid Doom)

Better Angels [Percy, ensemble | T | 2700 words]

Vox Machina mourns their first devastating loss and finds they each have a private war to win. Some of them are willing to pay more for that victory than others.

Spoilers Through Episode 69 (Passed Through Fire)

The Unconstant Dead [Percy, Cassandra, Pike, Vex | T | 1300 words]

In the wake of his own brush with mortality, Percy is visited by three ghosts.

Spoilers Through Episode 85 (A Bard’s Lament)

Shelter [Keyleth/Vex | T | 1300 words]

Keyleth chases down Vex in the immediate aftermath.

Spoilers Through Episode 88 (Tangled Depths)

Faint Distances [Vax, ensemble | T | 4400 words]

In the cold and the night and the storm, a half-elf walks into a bar. Vax remembers.

Spoilers Through Episode 102 (Race to the Tower)

Foresight [Vax, Vex, ensemble | T | 3000 words]

In his memory, Vax is forever locked in a moment (in a moment in a moment)

Spoilers Through Episode 115 (The Chapter Closes)

Cold Comfort [Velora, Vex, Percy | T | 3100 words]

Two years later, Velora returns to Whitestone for several long-overdue conversations.

[wtylas]

random things that i would have happen if the ya were given a tv show (like an actual tv show no “limited” bullshit we need more than 6 episodes we need more than 20 episodes) (with the lineup of nate, eli, teddy, billy, kate, cassie, and tommy) (and they are teens in high school)

- running gag of nate getting into mild inconveniences and going “eli???? eli i think im going through my villain origin story ELI COME BACK”

- tommy and billy meet except they instantly begin acting like siblings by going “yo youre ugly as FUCK.”

- eli and kate are dating except they date AGGRESSIVELY, one of their dates is going to walmart, each person having a $200 dollar no-tax-included limit and having 30 minutes to compile the bestest gifts for each other, which is just two teenagers running around the store with carts and screaming “oh they would fucking LOVE this” to anyone who would listen

- teddy teaches billy how to fly even though their flying powers are different, which starts as them floating in the air, then they try spinning and dancing and it gets all cute, and then they PUMMEL to the ground to see who lands first (and safer awbviously)

- nate keeps staring at random objects and tries to tinker with them to make them the way they were in 3000 (hint it doesnt go well cuz we havent invented shit)

- sam (falcon) takes eli along one day and they meet with some EEEEEEVIL person who taunts, “ah, without your little buddy (referring to bucky) today? ohhhh this’ll be a piece of cakeee” and sam goes “Acktually, i have a NEW little buddy!” and eli appears from behind sam’s outstretched wings, face only visible from the eyes up, and puts on a Menacing Face

- tommy tells everyone that he kinda sorta doesnt actually have super speed (”then why did you call yourself speed” “YOU guys called me speed EYE never said anything”) and actually just manipulates time for his surroundings, which makes it seem like he’s fast to everyone else but he actually just walks everywhere. he can also manipulate objects to make them revert back in time, go forward in time, and if he does it wrong on purpose they explode so wow he actually gets an explanation for that

- cassie constantly saving cats from trees by growing larger so she can just pluck em out of the trees

- kate learns how to use a MOTORCYCLE

- tommy begins wondering what his sexuality is and obviously the Gay Team(tm) starts singing a song like a musical to go through nearly every sexuality ever at all to figure out what it is, until eli interrupts and changes the key of the song and tells em that tommy doesn’t need to figure out what label to use within a 3 minute song. he gives tommy a DIY pride shirt (it’s a white shirt with an empty rectangle on it) and tells him he can fill it out whenever he needs to

- that becomes a running gag of him showing up with different flags every time, and sometimes you see him using his powers to reset it and just wear it with the empty rectangle. which is a good thing because marvel has a huge platform so this tells the youths that its okay to experiment with labels 

- teddy shapeshifts into a literal teddy bear and the team carries him around to all his classes telling teachers that the bear is taking teddy’s place. the teachers dont give a shit until one of them places a test in front of the bear and teddy gets confused on whether or not to take it because it’ll reveal that he’s a Shape Shifter. he does, and the teacher literally doesn’t bat an eye. problem solved

- billy figures out that he has the power to alter reality and absolutely does use it at all possible opportunities for convenience. chips stuck in vending machine? not anymore! dont have enough change? not anymore! you’re on the verge of a grade and don’t want to talk to your teacher about it? grade bumped up mysteriously! super convenient

- maybe they go through an episode of people at school using this to their advantage and the team convinces billy that the people can’t make him do what they want him to, and billy starts working on his people pleaser attitude. they also simply reset the entire school’s memories so that his identity remains secret

- what happens to ms altman happens and teddy says he’s fine but the day after he dissolves into grief. in the form of a song. the team had all shown up with gifts like cake and flowers and a few movie dvd’s because they wanted to cheer him up, but instead they stay outside his door hyping him up and providing adlibs cuz damn this guy sings loud + it would be awkward to interrupt at that point. teddy never notices

- before kate and eli get together, tommy and kate try dating for like half an episode (a few hours real time) and tommy tells her that he’s just uncomfortable with being in the relationship and kate tells him its fine. this isn’t treated in-show as tommy learning he doesn’t like women either, it’s just used to tell the audience that it’s okay to break off relationships if and when someone isn’t okay with it. kate also realizes that she has a pretty long list of ppl she’s dated and that she never really put much into them. she decides to work on actually putting her all into the next relationship she has. next relationship is eli and it works out amazers! that being said the rest of this episode is spent with them going back to being the platonic duo of the century

- cassie realizes that she has nothing on her college resume that proves she’s a leader and decides to pull the 200 iq move of making a young avengers fanclub. this works a little too well and people almost find out who everyone is, alongside the members experiencing a bit too many civilians recording their fights, social media pulls the classic fan move of shipping random members together and it gets real Uncomfy. cassie comes clean and the team as a whole tells the public it’s not okay to treat them like that. problem solved once again

- it’s revealed that nate is kang and that nate only knew about this because in 3000 he opened the timeline himself and saw a bunch of versions of himself (like the kang from loki tells) but then it all goes to shit and one of the kangs decides to begin pruning all the other timelines because it’s the only way to make things go back 2 normal. horrified, nate comes to the present day, but over time he starts thinking and actually begins agreeing with that kang..... that’s how he actually decides that being the next kang is fine with him. after, of course, he murders that kang himself lol

- billy and teddy have a “to be a princess” moment when teddy comes to terms with being kree-skrull royalty

- teddy also goes through some Appearance Decisions as a normal teenager with the capacity to shapeshift for experimentation. how well this goes is up to you

- the thing about eli and the hormone stuff is revealed but the team actually works with him to work past it. before he gets the blood transfusion the whole team spends time to slowly, and at a healthy rate, work out to get eli at a similar amount of strength. just a bunch of superhero teens doing pushups together having fun

- billy does the “send everyone into a coma” thing but instead of the avengers taking him away, he locks himself in his room and breaks down. the team obviously appears outside his window and they try to have a conversation with handmade signs and billy writing things in the sky with magic. goes something like “PLEASE COME OUT” “IM GAY” “YOU KNOW WHAT WE MEANT” “GO AWAY” “WE WILL SEND TOMMY IF WE MUST” “I DONT CARE” “TWO LATE” camera pans to billy looking behind him, tommy indeed being right behind him, and he drags billy out. the team reassures billy that whatever he did is fine and was a genuine mistake as long as he puts the effort into learning how to avoid this in the future. to make him feel better, the team has a fun night of superheroing where they do no saving and just run on rooftops, fly, look at the stars, buy ice cream, dance in parking lots, and act like actual teenagers. Man

as you can see i should be hired for marvel /s

[1-800-roflmao]

Chaos Playlist

Cause why not and I haven't made him one yet.

General Theme song. Self explanatory.

I can do BOTH~

You can't tell me you can't see him singing this either around his house or in a club, dancing with every person he can, and just having fun. It's bouncy and flirty like him.

Once again, just something that fits his personality and just him. The beat, the feel, the words.

I associate Chaos with most Bruno Mars songs. Charlie Puth is another one I associate with him.

You can bet he and his kids be jamming at home.

When he's in love. He'd sing this, too, serenade your ass.

Heaven has already granted me my wish // Still I never thought it would be as pleasant as this // Though you have no wings like the angels up above // You have a heavenly smile and also the gift of love // I promise to love you in everything I do // And know that you love me to

About his kids. Just this whole thing. He's definitely that lovesick father type, but tries to be chill about it.

Isn't she lovely? // Isn't she wonderful // Isn't she precious? // Less than one minute old // I never thought through love we'd be // Making one as lovely as she // But isn't she lovely made from love?

Back when he was part of the royal courts of the underworld.

Everybody in this party feels so fake // I really wish that I could say it to your face

I just wanna be happy // But if I keep on doing the things // That keep on bringing me pain // There's no one else I can blame // If I'm not happy // Wasted time but now I can see // The biggest enemy is me

(Don't you wanna be happy?)

But if I keep on giving my heart // For people to tear apart // The healing will never start

(Will I ever be happy?) Yeah

It's so easy to complain // Addicted to the pain

(Do you wanna be happy?) YES

Took a long time but I'm ready. Thank you.

Echoes knocking on locked doors // All the laughter from before // I'd rather live out on the street // Than in this haunted memory

This used to be a fun house // But now it's full of evil clowns // It's time to start the countdown // I'm gonna burn it down down down

Friendly reminder this demon formed a contract with a World Eater and fucked razed the underworld's royalty and upper tiers, and fed his ex to said World Eater.

Each night I go to bed // I pray the Lord my soul to keep // No, I ain't lookin' for forgiveness // But before I'm six foot deep

Lord, I got to ask a favor // And I'll hope you'll understand // 'Cause I've lived life to the fullest

Let this boy die like a man // Starin' down the bullet

Let me make my final stand

And the Lord listened.

[doctormead]

Last night on Mystery REM Theater 3000...

I dreamed that I and a friend had time traveled back to WWI.  We disguised ourselves as nurses and were on a military train to the front when I overheard there was a young lieutenant on board by the name of Tolkien.  I, of course, was having to smother my fan-gasm, but, when I was alone, I found myself softly singing "A Elbereth, Gilthoniel" (the song in FOTR extended cut where the elves are going by Frodo and Sam's camp).

I thought I was alone.  Turns out I wasn't.  Next thing I know, someone has grabbed me by the elbow and is whispering harshly into my ear "How the hell do you know my language?"  Yep, JRRT had overheard me and was baffled as to how his conlang he had only shared with family and very intimate friends was being sung by this strange nurse he had never seen before.  I hastily pull him to the side and try to explain that 1) I'm a time traveler and 2) in 100 years, not only does your Sindarin and Quenya survive, but they are actively studied and people take classes to learn to speak them and 3) there's a lot of people who really wish he had written more about Khuzdul (the Dwarvish language).  

We were then interrupted because the train was crossing over a bridge over an inlet of the sea and a huge seal somehow jumped into the car (how, I don't know.  Dream Physics).  The seal then wriggled out of her skin to reveal a naked woman.  A nearby soldier grabbed the skin and tried to cover the woman with it, but the selkie angrily threw it off because she didn't WANT to be a seal right now, thank you.  And chaos ensued.

[bakugou-tm]

fate’s design; bakugou

Okay so this was one of the few ideas I had going on but this one I had after I heard about the live action Tangled being made (literally wanted to be cast for that so bad). But anyways the reader has a healing quirk from her hair just like Rapunzel’s when she sings the song, and you can find out the rest as you read ;)

word count: 3000+

warnings: kidnapping, mad angst but a happy ending :-)

Emotion was a long lost friend of yours.

When you were younger, your life was filled with emotion.

The joy you felt when your family came over for summer cookouts and you got to play in the pool with your cousins while the sweet smell of meat burned on the grill. The sadness you felt when you had to reveal to your parents that you flunked your first math test. The anger you felt when your father ate the last cookie you had made with your mother that weekend, though it was quickly resolved when he returned to the store with a fresh batch.

All of these emotions, no matter good nor bad, you were at bay with. Content with even. Because at that time it was just so nice to.. feel something. Anything.

How you wished you could feel again, have a family again, a life.

That was all ripped from your grasp when you felt your very last emotion: pain.

The day was just like any other, you were walking home from school on sixth year in primary school. Your classes were beginning to grow harder, but thanks to your helpful friends and wise parents you had no troubles. After all, you and your peers were preparing for high school.

You remembered how excited you were for high school. Getting to meet new friends, join new clubs, play new sports. Perhaps you watched too many cliché high school movies, or maybe you had been too naive.

Probably the ladder.

You took the same path you always took, crossing through pretty neighborhoods with large historic trees and cracked sidewalks that brought back memories to your youthful days.

Just as you turned the corner you felt that feeling of comfort in your chest upon seeing the rustic color of your home, the smell cherry blossom tree overwhelming your senses as it did every afternoon.

You allowed the faint breeze to flow through your long soft locks, the occasional blossom falling far from the tree and into your hair.

You would always think... silly flower, you don’t belong in my hair. You belong in the tree with your family.

Walking peacefully down the street you made sure to skip over each crack, the knacking fear of the old children’s tale still in the back of your head.

To you it was just like any other weekday, the same old routine, same old walk, same old emotions.

But that day was far from normal, it was the last day you had the luxury of feeling.

You remembered the way a shiver ran up your spine when you felt someone entwining their fingers in your long locks. You remembered the way your parents ran outside at the sound of your shrill screams. You remembered being held back as you were dragged into a rundown van, your poor excuse of trying to escape proving to be useless. You remember having to watch your parents get engulfed in flames, their screams of agony filling your ears which over-rid the sound of tape being slapped across your mouth and body.

But the one thing that really swam in your mind like poison was the torn blossom that laid much to peacefully on the palm of your hand as tears of pure fear danced down your cheeks.

Silly flower, you don’t belong here.

Things have never been the same since that day. Sometimes you tried to think back on that day, those memories, just to try feel something again. But it never worked, nothing worked.

You followed the same routine everyday. Wake up, eat whatever scraps you could get, sit in the corner silently with no thought in mind, wait for one of the injured villains to come in, sing your song, heal them, hope they didn’t ask for much more from you, sleep, repeat.

You used to hate it so much, helping the people that took your life away against your will. Knowing you were the power of the sick people that ruined other people’s lives everyday. But at this point, you didn’t even know what it felt like to hate.

All you knew how to do was sing that sickening song and sleep. Nothing sounded the same anymore, nothing felt the same, nothing tasted the same. The bottom line was, nothing was the same.

And for six years that was your mindset, nothing would ever be the same. This would be your life til the day you die. That is, if you were lucky enough to see death’s doors.

But one day that mindset changed, your life changed forever. Thanks to the boy with crimson eyes.

-

You sat in the corner of your room, your bottom growing numb against the hardwood floors but you couldn’t care less.

Admittedly your room had gotten some upgrades since you first arrived here. From 11 to 18 you had finally been able to see a bed again, but it mattered not. The bed felt the same as the floor at this point.

Your (e/c) orbs were glued to the floor, your eyelids forcing themselves open pitifully as you traced the outlines of the hardwood as you did everyday.

With your room being below ground, probably in the middle of some rundown city, you weren’t able to hear much of what was going on in the outside world. Sometimes you would imagine what was happening, what holidays were going on and what families were spending time together.

It probably felt nice.

When a loud bang arose from upstairs, your eyes merely flicked to the door with uninterested. Probably one of the villains getting in a fight. Their hideout was in a rundown bar of sorts, this leading to the buffoons always being a drunk mess.

All you could do was hope that they would be sober enough when they had their daily visit with you.

The banging only proceded to get louder, shouts filling the air but you simply ignored it. Letting your head lower to the ground again as your (h/c) locks showered along your face.

Through everything you’ve been through, one thing that never changed was your hair. No matter how much you tugged and pulled at it, wishing it would fall out and end this misery you called a life: it remained.

Soft and gentle as ever, the strands never bothering to move out of place as the cascaded down your smooth shoulders.

It made you absolutely sick.

As the banging grew closer to your door you swore you almost felt a bit of curiosity fill your mind. But who were you kidding, you knew it was only your mind playing tricks on you.

Even as new voices filled the air and quirks seem to go off every which way, you failed to believe it was anything of your concern. You had been tricked long enough, you wouldn’t dare fall for hope again.

Curling your scratched up knees to your chin you let more of your hair cascade around your face, hoping to drown out the sounds and maybe even fall asleep.

The vibrations along the walls were surprisingly lulling to you, your head leaning against the cold concrete as you let your (e/c) irises see the last of this damp room for today. 

But apparently your luck was runnign short today. Just before you could doze off into what freedom you had, the door slammed open.

Your eyes blinked open slowly, your (e/c) orbs peaking up to see which villain you had to heal today, only to see a figure you didn’t recognize.

He was dressed in a uniform, perhaps a villain you’ve never met? But he had no serious injuries, what else could he be here for?

One thing that stuck out to you was the slight confusion and horror that was washed over his expression as he looked you up and down.

If you had any bit of feeling left in your body you would almost be intimidated by the handsome man, his crimson iris’ slicing through you as his lips formed into a snarl showing off his near perfect teeth.

“You’re the flower they’ve been talking about?”

The sound of the word flower made you grimace, the word making you sick to the stomach as a quick flashback of the broken blossom in your hand so many years ago came to mind.

When arriving this the dungeon you now called home, the villains took note of the many blossoms in your hair from your tree at home, deciding to give you the nickname “flower”.

The word you once loved now made you sick.

Your flinching didn’t go un-noticed by the man before you, his eyes narrowing into mere slits as he clenched his fists.

“Sick bastards.”

Before you knew it he was walking over to you, extending out a palm to you awaiting you to take it.

He stood there, his eyes glancing back at the door to make sure no other shitty villain was coming before he glanced back at you only to see your body shoved even further into the corner.

His eyebrow rose in confusion as he shook his hand in an annoyed manor. What the hell were you doing?

“I’ve already done my job for today, please let me rest until tomorrow.” You spoke with quivering lips, only leading the ash blond to click his tongue.

“I’m not here to use you I’m here to get you the hell out of here, I’m a damn hero.”

In that moment you had never felt so overwhelmed in your life. So confused and unsure what to do. Hero? There was such a thing? How could this be real? You were sure your doomed life had been planned out, what was going on? Could life not let you chip away in peace?

The so called “hero” before you was growing impatient. He quickly crouched down on his toes, letting his arms lay across his knees as he looked at you with stern eyes, mumbling something about this being shitty Deku’s job.

“Listen I’m a fucking pro-hero okay? We’ve been chasing this case for months, hearing that the League of Villains had a secret weapon called their “Flower” that’s been the source of all their success these past few years,” The man explained with a sigh as he grit his teeth, “We expected you to be an actual flower, not a damn human, but it turns out these assholes are more disturbing than we expected.”

Your eyes felt glazed over as he offered his hand out once more.

“Now I need you to fucking trust me so I can get you out of here got it?”

For once in these past long years... you felt something. You felt the warm salty water dance across your cheek. You felt the rough rubber of this man’s glove as your slender fingers slid across his own. You felt... damn you say it.. hope.

Swallowing what saliva you had formulated in your mouth, you gave a quick nod before completely taking his hand and allowing him to lift you up from the floor.

One moment you were in the room you had lived in for six years, now you were running down the hallway. Nothing was in your way, it felt so surreal.

This had to be happening for a reason, maybe this was a test. Were they going to kill you if you betrayed them? Who were you kidding, killing you would be the easy way out. They needed you.

When the sight of stairs came into sight your eyes widened, you remembered those from your first day here. Upstairs, outside those doors was the real world.

For a quick second you almost felt like smiling, like screaming from pure joy. But you should’ve known what that would lead to. As a bullet sunk through the chest of the hero before you a scream did end up releasing from your chest.

But not from pure joy.

The hero sunk to his knees, his free gloved hand grasping his now bloodied chest before falling to the ground.

“Now now look what you’ve done flower, you know we have strict rules to keep you safe here.” The villain spoke before you, his gun flicking around his finger as if it were a toy as he began to walk towards you.

So the universe was still playing tricks on you, it wanted to make sure that you knew life still could be worse. And it was, it just kept getting worse and worse.

At least before you didn’t have to see the lifeless bodies that you had caused, but now as you saw the hero before you losing any sign of life in his crimson orbs you felt as if your body was being torn up from the inside. Just like when you saw your parents.

“Come on now flower, let’s get you back to your roo-”

A loud explosion from upstairs was heard causing you and the villain to stumble to your feet. Glancing up you noticed that heavy amounts of dust and ash from the cement walls were clouded around the villain before you.

In that moment you saw two choices. Two choices that life had bestowed upon you. You could either wait for those five seconds and allow the villain to take you back to that prisoned hole.

Or you could safe this hero and possibly have another chance at life. But why would you even try. Had you not learned after six years that life was not in your favor? What was even the point?

As your (e/c) eyes flicked down to the lifeless hero you wanted so badly just to lay beside him and give up, accept the cursed fate stowed upon you.

But as you looked into his crimson eyes, the only thing you could see were the eye’s of your parents. The lifeless look across their expressions as they screamed in pain from the intense flames engulfing them.

Back then you were too weak to do anything about it. You had to watch that happen and allow your life to become what it was. You... You couldn’t do that again.

No.

Gritting your teeth you dragged the hero through one of the now broken down doors, hastily wrapping your locks of hair around his chest as he coughed most likely from pain, holding at his wound.

You narrowed your eyes intensely and focused on making sure you hair wrapped around every inch of his wound.

The ash blond hero narrowed his own eyes up to you weakly, fighting to speak as he watched you maneuver around his corpse.

“W..What the hell are y..you doing?” The hero rasped, his hand trying to grasp around your wrist in an attempt to stop you, “Get the fuck out of here, save... save yourself!”

You simply ignored his pleads, tightening your locks of hair before inhaling deeply.

“Flower, gleam and glow, let your power shine..” You spoke softly, your eyes closing in focus as the hero before you gave you a crazed expression, “Make the clock reverse, bring back what once was mine.”

Initially the hero was disturbed by your soft singing, wondering if this was some sort of song of lost hope. How could you accept your fate like this? He couldn’t seem to plug anything together until he noticed your roots of your long (h/c) locks glow a bright golden color, the bright effect slowly cascading down your locks like a waterfall.

“Heal what has been hurt, change the fates’ design,” You sang peacefully, channeling your quirk’s energy to the man’s injury, “Save what has been lost, bring back what once was mine...”

Upon those words of the song your gentle (e/c) eyes opened slowly to glance down to the hero beneath you, his eyes growing wider as a mix of shock from your quirk’s magic and his sudden energy being brought back to him.

“What once was mine.”

The ash blond failed to notice his steady breathing once again, rather focusing on your hair’s golden shine fading away as your locks began to loosen from around his chest. His eyes followed down to his once bloody chest to now see the hole from the wound completely gone.

Suddenly it all made sense.

You were their healing flower, the source of their power. None of the members of the League of Villains were being taken down because they had unlimited lives. That’s why they had no fear running into battles, they knew they had no risk. Because they had you.

The young hero wasn’t sure if it was from the purely radiant song you sang, or maybe it was the action that had become of the song, or maybe now he was realizing just how truly beautiful you were inside and out. As if he had known you for years. But there was one thing he knew for sure.

Sitting up from his laid down position, the hero gently held both of your palms into his own as he gave you a gentle yet stern look.

“Flower, I will protect you at all costs, from this day on. You will never see the likes of these sick bastards again. We’re going to survive this and I’m going to be your damn hero.”

What was that feeling? The overwhelmingly warm surge through your chest. It felt as if he you had been stabbed in the heart, but it wasn’t pain you were feeling at all. In fact the warmth was spreading through your entire body, as if something inside you had been reawakened.

Part of you wanted to feel concerned about it but you just couldn’t with the other thought swarming in your head.

The hero just called you by the name you swore you would hate for the rest of your life, and yet you felt nothing but trust in the man. The word you swore would always make you feel sick... made you feel hope. 

And for once in six years you allowed the corners of your lips to rise as you took his hand and spoke the first words of your new life with this crimson eyed man.

“I trust you hero.”

[eminsunnytoons123]

Class of 3000 SQUISHMALLOWS! #1:

The Main cast

Since I have promised that I'll make class of 3000 squishmallows after I draw the characters for MY OWN reboot of class of 3000, heres the first set of class of 3000 as squishmallows =^_^=

And this is somethin' I wanna share with all my loved ones in my tumblr family:

@splashy900 @kxllboii @aquamarine-dream-queen @dayzsaclark @oscarandgrinchfan @moshywoosh @ilovescaredysquirrel2 @nuggetaubrey @sharkyy599 @nightkit92 @familyoffood @mysafespaceblog13 @thelazzyblogzz @sugar-miss1 @shrimpathizer @shypeachrunaway @iggyguyy @sayuri-does-skits @typical-sophie @peaceforpeople @ben5569 @itsmyaltaccountforshiitybloglol0 @ducktoonz903707 @artismeyou-12 @blackstar044 @acen402 @diego-r-the-artist-2009 @nia1sworld @rumplestiltsbear @s4gefr0g @beeware-of-lulu @leafith @bluebird-in-a-cagedrawing @muppet-fan-frr @thegroovyskull @blo0st4r @vickymcsworld @fancytigercupcake And @muppet-fan-real And @cheezekennith

And even more class of 3000 fans here on tumblr like @cncity @ghostytoastynights @classof3000shit @classywinnerpeace And more =^_^=

As y'all can see here, Sunny, lil' D, philly Phil, Madison, tamika, eddie, kim And kam are in their cute And fluffy squishmallows forms, And honestly, if these were real, I would definetly buy them all =^.^= (especially squishmallows of Salieri And his students, mila, big D, cheddar man, Bianca... Etc more that i'll make =^_^=)

And i'll make the spoiler drawing of the first episode of 'co3k: back to the SING!' tommorow =^.^=

And heck, theres more ideas that I wanna make involving class of 3000 characters, such as them as a Friday night funkin mod, them in an anime style... And lots more =0w0=

I hope y'all will like this =^/////^= 🧡💛♥️

[twisted-tales-of-all]

The Inspiration You Needed

Idol!Kim Hongjoong x (Gender-Ambiguous) Fanfiction-Author!Reader

Summary: When you experience writer’s block on a piece about your boyfriend, he decides to take the day to help inspire you.

Word Count: ~2.2K

Warnings: So much fluff

"Do you like it?"

You lift your head from your current project to see your boyfriend with his stylist behind him, both sporting nervous looks of anticipation. You find his new hair color - white to violet ombre - absolutely adorable, but know that they want a more "sophisticated" answer. He brought you here for critiques, not to swoon.

"I like the idea. It looks good, but what about full lavender hair with violet underneath? I think it'll look better for your softer concept."

The hairstylist looks over the ombre hair again, mentally envisioning the look you suggested. Ultimately deciding that, since the test colors can wash out with water, she would try it. She drags your boyfriend back to the other room, so you turn back to your work.

Although only a hobby, you love to write and seem to more effort into it than you do at your day job. It does bring in money, but nowhere near enough to quit your boring secretary job. You never expected to garner any attention when you started your fanfiction blog, but you quickly gained a following. After only two years, your blog accumulated nearly 3000 followers. You receive plenty of requests, one of which you were currently trying - and failing - to progress on.

See, none of your followers know that your closest friends and your boyfriend all happen to be idols, so requests stump you when they include people you know, especially when you can't imagine the scenarios happening at all. For this request, you needed to write about how Hongjoong would help his significant other with work-related stress. While your boyfriend has helped you relieve stress plenty of times before, the real Hongjoong serves as a bad example for a good fanfiction. The real Hongjoong sits silently in the room unless you ask him for something, knowing how you enjoy your space. You certainly don't believe that idea would work for your readers, most of whom probably expect sweet Hongjoong to help with cuddles or singing to his partner.

"Earth to Y/N!" You hear the stylist call you again, so you look up from your notebook once again. "Finally. Here's the lavender Hongjoong look. I do agree with you. This fits their concept a lot better. Thanks for suggesting it."

"That's why I'm here, after all. I prefer this look, that's for sure."

You catch the nervousness in Hongjoong's smile melt away after hearing that you like the look. Despite having to go back to get the true dye job done, he much prefers you here to help. You have the fan's point of view: you knew the group since pre-debut, KQFellaz, days, followed each comeback and all the chaos it caused in the fandom, and kept up with a handful of theories that arose. After all, they haven't told you any secrets despite being close friends, so theories are your lifeline, just like any other fan.

"Oh, Y/N! You're here?" Once again raising your head from the paper, you meet the face of another friend.

"Hi, Yeosang! Are you doing your hair next? Hongjoong should almost be done." You shoot him a smile as he settles by you on the couch.

"I'll wait here then. What are you working on? Another piece for your blog?"

You nod but add, with a sigh, "It's another ATEEZ request that I can't figure out. Why can't Hongjoong be a typical boyfriend that I can use in my fanfiction?"

Yeosang scoffs at your whine, "You don't want him to be like a fanfiction boy. You and I both know that."

"You're right. I would get sick of a real-life fanfiction boy. Hongjoong is perfect now. I just wish I could write requests for you guys easier. It's hard to imagine a lot of things people want ever actually happening in real life."

"Then, let's try doing things the fans want to read." You and Yeosang both shoot shocked looks to Hongjoong, who emerges with his new pastel hair job completely finished. "Your turn, Yeosang. Thanks for keeping my love company for a bit."

"Good luck, Y/N. I hope you figure things out." Yeosang winks at you before pushing himself off the couch and heading into the room Hongjoong came out of. Almost immediately, you hear the stylist's laughter booming, making you roll your eyes at Yeosang's antics.

Hongjoong laughs at your reaction then holds his hand out to help you off the couch. You place your notebook and pen in one hand and accept his gesture with your now-freed hand. When you stand, he takes advantage of the situation and pulls you in close for a quick peck on the lips.

"How's that for your fanfiction?"

As embarrassed as the situation makes you, his proud, corny smile only lets you send a smile back. He hardly does sappy, fanfiction-worthy things, so the few times he does - even jokingly - make you gush to extremes.

"Let's go be a fanfiction couple for the day. What a perfect way to celebrate our 100 days. I'll gladly help you with inspiration for your request."

He doesn't let you respond as he walks back to the entryway, dragging you roughly behind him, only to be met with a crowd of fans - something you note after dating him this long is easily avoided and simply used as a plot point in writing. Although Hongjoong clearly announced his relationship status on "Knowing Bros" after Kim Heechul asked him for a kiss on the cheek, nobody has seen his so-called "partner" before, so many still search desperately for proof. This reveals any proof they need, even if they can't get an identification on who exactly you are.

At this exact moment, you're exceptionally glad that you haven't revealed your face on your blog. You know that someone will catch a picture of your face despite hiding it the best you can. As you keep your face down, you follow your boyfriend's pull on your hand. He suddenly stops, but you don't catch it in time, slightly bumping into him. He rubs his thumb over your hand as he clears his throat. You slightly lift your head at him, seeing him smiling and waving at the fans.

"Hello, everyone! Didn't know you would be here; what a nice surprise. I would like to finally introduce you to my partner. They're a little shy. You guys were starting to wonder whether they were real, right, ATINY?" With a laugh, he lifts your chin and gives you a look that assures you it'll be okay. As you send a smile out to the fans, the mixed reactions bring a weird sensation to the pit of your stomach, partially from nervousness and partially from unexpected acceptance.

Most of the reactions, surprisingly, implied acceptance and even happiness. You hear a fanboy in the front row say that you complement each other well, which definitely sticks in your mind and brings a smile to your face. The two of you stick around for a bit, talking with fans and answering simple questions they ask.

"Okay, everyone! I think it's time for us to go. It's our 100-day anniversary, so I have to treat them even better than usual, and I'd like to use as much time as possible. You guys are all so great but don't forget to take care of yourselves! Don't sit out here all day!"

With Hongjoong's heartfelt goodbye, the two of you walk off, hand in hand.

"So, Joongie, where are we going?" You ask after around ten minutes of following his lead.

"There." He points in front of him with a smile. As you follow his finger, your eyes land on your favorite arcade. He watches as your smile grows wider.

"Time to kick your butt again?" You joke, even though you usually have close games. He laughs but says nothing as he leads you to the arcade, holding the door open for you.

Instantly, you head to your favorite game. He pays for the game credits before finding you exactly where he expects you. He jokes about your predictability and hands you the card, reloaded and ready to use. He lets you play this game alone, admiring you and taking photos of your focused form.

After an hour of playing games, you guys dry out the credits and decide to head out instead of reloading them again. He brings you across the street and to the fourth floor of the building, to a sweets shop. You sample a few before deciding on your favorite, which he buys for you both to share.

As you guys walk through a beautiful tree-lined street, your happiness makes all thoughts leave your head. You don't even notice that he's brought you to a high-class restaurant until he opens the door for you.

"Hongjoong, do you have a reservation?" You ask, nervously shrinking in on yourself since you feel out of place.

He ignores the question and walks to the bar, sitting directly in front of the barback polishing glasses. You can't hear the conversation but clearly see the man give Hongjoong a black paper bag. You follow Hongjoong out of the restaurant, your thoughts hyper-focused on the paper bag. Before even realizing it, you're at the apartment complex you live in. As you unlock the doors and head inside your apartment, you register your boyfriend's voice for the first time since the restaurant.

"You want to see what's inside, right?"

He holds the bag out towards you without waiting for your response. When you look inside, you feel the curiosity fall away, defeated by the simple object in the bag. You pull out the box, wondering why the man would give Hongjoong an ATEEZ album.

"Open it. I've had this in the making for a bit now, so don't you dare claim that I'm not fanfiction material."

As you open the album case, you find the typical photo book replaced by one titled "An Image Worth 100 Words." As you flip through the book, you find a collection of pictures of yourself. Most of them are ones you never knew he captured, with you focused on working on various writing projects. Next to the photos are short writings. As you continue to flip through the book, you realize that the writings form a full song that you've never seen before.

He watches your reaction as you read the song. As you finish, you can't help but hug your boyfriend in glee and praise him for his hard work. As usual, he blows off your praise by saying that it wasn't much and that you're worth so much more, but he also tells you to put the disc into the computer and play the contents. As it starts, you realize that he wrote and composed this whole song for you. You laugh when you hear some of the other members' voices in the song, meaning that he got them involved as well.

Shyly, before you even ask, he admits, "They didn't want to be left out. They said that our 100-day anniversary also equals 100 days as best friends with you."

You laugh at the boys' antics, knowing full well that they probably just wanted to annoy Hongjoong by forcing him to let them join. They probably won't even bring it up to you at all. Regardless, you do enjoy that they joined. It somehow makes the "album" feel less cheesy and more real.

You leave a quick peck on your boyfriend's lips before walking to your desk and grabbing a box that was sitting on top. As you hand it to Hongjoong, you admit, "It's not as good as your gift to me, but I know you'll appreciate it nonetheless."

You watch nervously as he opens the box and pulls out the notebook. As he flips through the pages, you see his face perk up.

"How long have you been writing this, Y/N?"

"Probably close to three months. I know you said you loved my writing, so now you have a story that's only for you. It won't be posted, and I haven't shown anyone else."

At this moment, an idea finally comes to mind about the request you had. Seeing this, Hongjoong motions for you to write it down before you forget it.

On a random paper, you scribble the words "soft subby Joong" and smile at it. As Hongjoong looks over your shoulder at the idea, he pouts, "I'm not subby."

"I know, Joong. Trust me, I know. But sometimes the readers just need something soft. This is the easiest way to write it since I'm very kind to you when I'm in charge."

"That is true. Well, happy 100 days, my sweet love. I'm glad I helped with your writer's block, and I can't wait to read the story you wrote for me."

"Happy 100 days, Hongjoong. Thank you so much. For everything."

[a-forgotten-spirit]

Dabi x Hero Reader (4)

Pairing: Dabi x Fem Hero in training, Shinso x Reader (Platonic), Bakugou x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Mineta is rude and you show him just how scary you can be. 

Words: +-3000

Warnings: Feeling hated, mentions of killing, Mineta, people thinking you’re having sex with Shinso, nosy people, singing a song about killing, drugs and death. Best friends with Shinso, friends with Bakugou. 

Tags: @wnygirl2012​ @chaotic-neutral-logic-sass​ @immortalwolf18​

A/N: Hahah I hate Mineta. I’m so proud of myself like whoooo look at me go. Like and Comment, send me an ask. I love them so much and I tend to continue stories when people actually like them. Thank you for reading. I am still taking requests.

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

_______________________________________________________________

Chapter 4 Y/N P.O.V

A knock rang through the room loud and annoying. I felt myself being pulled closer to a body and opened my eyes to see purple locks splayed over my pillow. I couldn’t help but smile, Shinso was so cute. Another knock, faster and louder this time.

“For fuck's sake,” I whispered and untangled myself from Shinso as he groaned. “I’ll be back” he hummed and pulled the blanket to his chest, he wasn’t much of a sleeper so I am glad he got some sleep here. Walking to the door I scratched my head and opened the door yawning. I was not awake enough for this but at the sight of half of my class, I stopped dead in my tracks.

“Y/N” Mina called out smile wide and arms moving around. I hadn’t had time to even fix myself so I was in a big jumper some short shorts and socks. Bed hair out for everyone to see and eyes half-lidded. It was the weekend, why were they at my door.

“Did you have fun last night” Mineta smirked and I could hear a few chuckles. So that’s why they were here, Mineta had most likely told everyone I invited Shinso over. It wasn’t any of their business.

“Hey” I called over my shoulder seeing the male sitting up only to then get up and walk overhand in his hair and the other resting against his waist, shirt lost somewhere in the room. “How was our night,” I asked as he came to look at everyone in the hallway.

“Riveting” he spoke out monotone, eyes narrowed and clearly unimpressed with the situation. Made the two of us, I wasn’t in the slightest bit impressed with these idiots. I was fuming, I wanted to see Dabi.

“Not that I think it’s any of your business who I share my bed with, I’m sure you’d be thrilled to know we just slept cause you know I can have friends” I pointed out and sure the guilty faces of my class fall. Shinso turned around.

“I’m going for a shower” he called and once the door to the shower was closed I turned, eyes narrowed and smile wide. I was close to screaming so loud they went deaf.

“Y/N I’m sorry” I put my hand up with Uraraka spoke though she had walked in, she wasn’t here from the beginning so I couldn’t be too mad. I watched as Bakugou silently walked up.

“I told you, idiots, she wouldn’t be happy” he yelled and Mina was blushing and moving her hands around. I walked out of the room and everyone took a step back. I sighed and nodded my head.

“So Mineta you like starting shit it seems” my head slowly turned to the short pervert standing beside my room door. I moved to crouch down and he swallowed. “If you ever try this stunt again I don’t care if I'm a hero in training I will mount you on a spike and place it in the garden for decoration. Do I make myself clear” I spoke slowly and could see his eyes shaking? He nodded. “I’m glad we are on the same page then, later today we are going to fight, you don’t get a choice. You think you’re so high and mighty, let’s see just how well you fair” he was shaking as I stood and looked to everyone “Now fuck off” I yelled and moved to slam my door as loud as I possibly could.

I was fuming, pacing back and forth in my room in anger as I seethed. Hands shaking as I began to hum to myself and then screamed, not loud but just to get some energy out.

“Feel better” I turned seeing Shinso hair wet and a towel around his waist. I nodded and sighed out. “I want to see Dabi” I whispered and looked down to my hands as he sighed and walked over.

“Why don’t you” my head raised to fast I thought I broke the bone, I’m sure I heard a crack. His face was soft and an eyebrow raised as he shrugged “The crush won’t leave if you don’t see him, you like him. You have for a while, you just hadn’t admitted it” he wasn’t wrong. I didn’t want to admit it and the fact that I did, the feeling was coursing through me.

“I’m going on patrol tomorrow with Midnight, she asked me to come with her. I’ll look around” I looked down but I knew he was smiling from the nod I saw in my line of sight. We both got dressed and made our way down to the common room.

“Y/N” Mineta called out and I swear my mood dropped within a second as Kirishima pushed him forward with an angered and disapproving glance, he wasn’t there this morning. “I’m sorry for what I did” he grit out.

“I don’t care” I spoke, bland and straight forward. Kirishima didn’t move but I could see Bakugou smile from the lounge he was sitting on. “I’m going to tear you limb from limb. I don’t think you should be in this course” the room went silent as Shinso rose an eyebrow. “You're scared of everything and your quirk is mediocre. Shinso should be in here, at least he a decent person. We will fight and if you win you can get whatever you want. I mean anything and if I win. Well, I’ll let you know when I’m done fucking Shinso for the tenth time today. Apparently, that’s all I do” I smiled and then turned to the kitchen and Bakugou laughed and Shinso smiled.

Walking into the Kitchen it was empty but the smell of eggs and bacon indicated that someone had cooked. I moved to the pantry and began getting all the ingredients to make pancakes. Shinso coming to sit at the island in front of me. I got him a drink placing it down in front of him. The eggs didn’t take long to make but it was quiet as Shinso messaged someone and went on his phone. I could hear a few yells from the common room as they played games and talked.

The pancakes were soft and fluffy, stacking them I could see a few people walk past and then stop as I made them “Bakugou” I yelled and within a few seconds, he was walking in. “The stove was messy so I know it’s not you who cooked. I made you pancakes to repay for making me the poison food” I turned and smiled.

I placed the plate in front of him and his eyes were wide “You make some good pancakes. Not as good as me but still up there” he poured maple syrup over the fluffy cakes and took one bite nodding. “You’re cooking me breakfast every morning now” I laughed as he turned “Thanks. What do you want for dinner” he asked standing in the doorway.

“Something with beef” I smiled and he nodded walking out and back to the lounge. I watched as everyone stopped and watched him pass. I smiled with Kirishimas’ eyes practically fell from his face as he begged for one.

“No I got made them, they are mine” many complaints and a few yells I placed a plate in front of Shinso who gladly accepted the treat and got to work with eating them.

“You and Bakugou get along, that’s surprising” Shinso spoke as I leaned against the bench pouring the syrup over the pancakes before cutting into the stack and taking a bite. One of my best makes. “This is amazing,” he smiled and I did too.

“He made me food and we joked about me wanting to die as everything thinks he poisons his food. Now we have a bond. I guess we just make food for each other” I shrugged. I liked it, I thought it was quite cute we did that for each other. A friendly mutual bond, it was better than him hating me.

The meal was passed with light chatter and multiple videos of cats doing various things. I showed a few videos from my phone having to slide across all the notifications. They had gotten less and less but I did see a news article about the club I was at last night. Appears there was a lot of confused and seemingly drunk people on the streets through the night. That was me, I was at fault, the article put it down to a party gone wrong. I deleted the article and went through my messages and other things. Looking up to eat or watch what Shinso was showing on his phone, once we were done we made our way back into my room.

“I have a crush on Kaminari” Shinso blurted out once the door was closed, I dropped my phone on the ground hearing a loud bang as I slowly turned to see him standing there. I was in shock, my eyes were wide “Why are you looking at me like that, you’re the one crushing on a serial killer” he sassed and my eyes grew wide.

“You little shit” running at him full force I came into contact and we both fell to the ground on top of our makeshift bed. It was a quick and fun, I was on top of him my legs over his waist as I pushed his hands to the ground. “Kaminari huh,” I asked my breath quicker.

“Yeah” he sighed and his head fell back, hands pressed to the ground next to his head. He smiled, “We talk a lot, no one knows but we talk. Knew each other before school” his smile was wider and I looked down at him.

“That’s cute” I moved to be laying next to him my leg draped over his body and arm over my stomach. “I can’t believe I like him” I whispered “I mean he likes me too, at least a little” I pointed out turning my head and meeting the purple eyes of my best friend.

“He did come and find you” he nodded and then smiled but this time it was light and innocent “He did save you from the guy as well” I had told Shinso about my night, how I saw him and how I ran away “He kissed you” I flushed and nodded agreeing. He did kiss me, his mouth was so soft and plump at least his top lip was, his bottom lip was rough and textured but I would give anything in the world to kiss him again. “And you ran away” my mind came back to Earth at his words.

“That I did, I felt guilty,” Should I feel guilty, who am I kidding, of course, I should feel guilty. I went out with innocent fun intent and came home having drugged a club and kissed a villain who kills people and is in with the league. Of course, I was in the wrong. “I still do” I offered in the conversation.

“I would too but the heart wants what it wants” he shrugged, for how much he dreamed of being a hero I was surprised he was ok with this whole situation. “I can tell you’re thinking” he whispered and my eyes fell to the blanketed floor draped in his hair.

“Why are you ok with me liking a villain, you want to be a hero so bad and your best friend is doing this,” I asked. I felt so guilty, he wanted to be a hero as much as anyone. It was amazing the drive he had. The late-night workouts and giving him my notes from class so he was always up to date.

“Because I know you don’t want to hurt people Y/N” his hand came to wipe a tear falling from my cheek, I was crying. I hadn’t even realised. More fell as I sat up my leg still over his as I cried. “I wouldn’t care if you dropped out even. You’ve had such a terrible start and I know how bad it is on your mental health. I don’t hate you and I never will, you don’t want to hurt people. I know that” he smiled and I brought him into my arms as I continued to cry.

He was my best friend.

- The day was passing nicely and with every passing moment it came closer to my ‘fight’ with Mineta and I regretted challenging him, I was going to win. When the time came I walked from the dorms with Shinso followed by a group of my peers. I was talking calmly as we made our way into the training building that we were now allowed in after getting our license: Todoroki and Bakugou being an exception.

“Any thoughts,” Shinso asked his hand lightly grazing past my own as we walked as close to each other as possible. I had been thinking about it, how easy it’ll be. I could practically feel the stress coming from Mineta.

“I’m going to humiliate him” I smiled turning my head and then letting my head fall back to view the people behind me, he was shaking, eyes wide and hands fidgeting. “I don’t like being made fun of” I finished and turned back. He nodded a response.

I wasn’t going to do anything bad, I was going to do what I said. A fight with each other with our quirks, he didn’t deserve to be in here. He had no hero attributes, he was a pervert, he was scared, he cared more for his own needs than the needs of others. It was disgusting, Shinso deserved to be here. Shinsos’ quirk could save people, he could get information with just words. He was a real hero.

Walking into the building I moved to stretch my arms as everyone moved out of the way, to the sides of the building. “Regret your decisions” I called out my hand placed lazily on my hip. He was athletic, I had seen him at the sports festival and he was decently smart.

“No” he smiled his hands raising shaking, drool falling from his lips “I’m going to win to get whatever I want” his eyes were shaking and a scowl came to my face, he was disgusting. Heroes should not act like this but then again heroes shouldn’t kiss villains. I think my issue was better than his.

A few more words and then we began, he was running. He was quick but I was so pissed off at the music as I dodged one of his balls, I didn’t so much as want to be touched by them. I wanted to scare him, so a scary song.

“People say that I’ve got a bad temper” I sang voice low and croaky as he stopped in his tracks, eyes moving to a more feared look, wide and breathing heavy. “Hit you with my car and change the fender” I could see the reactions of the class as I walked forward and he fell to the ground looking up at me. Pushing fear into him his hands shook and breathing sped up “Decapitate your head then put your fingers in the blender” I put my hand up moving my fingers individually as he stared at them before smirking. “My mind is sick as fuck please do not enter” I croaked out bending down in front of him slowly. I was so angry this morning, the way he easily told everyone and the fact people listened. To think I could have some privacy in this place, I already had the world hating me, why did I need my class added to the list. “People say that I got a bad temper” I smiled rolling my eyes like it was a fake issue. “Keep on playin we gon get your ass dismembered” my finger came to run along my neck leaving a red line from my nail, it didn’t hurt but his shaking got worse, he was trying to get away but his body wouldn’t let him. “Did I kill, I really can’t remember” I made a confused look as I shook my head like it was a nothing thing. I loved bringing in his fear, it tasted delicious. I had been craving more emotions since last night. “I’ve been drugged up out of my mind, since last December” I did feel drugged, emotions flowing through the air. “He pissed me off, but I didn’t mean to kill him” I smiled my hand coming close to his face as he shook his head in utter terror.

I stopped there the song falling into nothing as he sat there holding his knees to his chest shaking. “Y/N” someone called out and I put my hand up for them to pause. I wanted to speak, I wanted to speak my mind.

“After the week I’ve had your first intention is to make it worse,” I asked and he couldn’t even meet my eyes without tears welling up in his eyes. “My quirk is called Siren, I have all the powers of a Siren. I can change emotions and push them into a person, by pushing fear you heard the words as though they were straightly directed at you and not just from a song. Next time you try and get into someone else's business really think hard” I said slowly, he nodded frantically and I sighed out. Within a few seconds it wore off, I didn’t make it strong. He was back to normal but his eyes met my own and mine narrowed. “I won. I don’t want anything from you, maybe just been a decent person” I stood to my full height and walked through my class “Bakugou” I called out seeing the smirking blonde come into my view “I would like some noodles for lunch” I came to a smiling Shinso and we walked out.

“For that, I’ll make you whatever you want” he smiled throwing an arm around my shoulders “You gotta give me that song” I laughed holding Shinso close to my body as we let the building.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 5

[usertoxicyaoi]

Faizaaa?! How was the live? I've got class rn but I will watch it right after I'm so excited

hiiii anon!!! it was so so SO good!!!

their outfits? win's confidence and stage presence and singing (OH MY GOD!! IT BLEW ME AWAY!!!!), win's chinese??? he translated a lot of the stuff in english for himself!, they were so so interactive with the fans!!!!, the song choices were so so so good (some were from 2gether, like the osts and scrubb medlies, but some were other thai songs), bright i feel was v v v overwhelmed at the start whereas win looked a lot lot more relaxed, god they both were just ... being themselves?? messing and joking around and telling one another "oh i like ur lips theyre kissable" "yeah ur back is So Nice" bc a fan requested, the re-enacted the first time they both met one another and was going thru their mind when they saw one another, the played a word guessing game and win lost so bright punished him by telling win to do 8 whole bodywaves chdbdifod, they had one Very intense ballroom style performance in the red velvet jacket/coats which was ... a Lot, they both sang i love you 3000 bc win wanted them to, and then when they finally did a montage of their journey and showed them a heatmap of their fans worldwide, they BURST out crying and could not stop crying whilst saying their final speeches and thanking everyone and how touched and overwhelmed they both are with so much support and love theyve gotten in such a short time which they werent expecting at all? and to stay tuned for still2gether!!!! and they hugged, and then bright saw win was still crying so he hugged him again and win just ... yeah ... burst out sobbing, whilst they both sang kan goo at the end.

and i think the fandom colours that have been decided are (B)lack and (W)hite, for BrightWin, which i think is the fandom name, for now anyway.

yeaaah it was just. v v v v nice!!!

[muhammad-ubaidullah-khan]

The Man in Asbestos: An Allegory of the Future

by Stephen Leacock

To begin with let me admit that I did it on purpose. Perhaps it was partly from jealousy.

It seemed unfair that other writers should be able at will to drop into a sleep of four or five hundred years, and to plunge head first into a distant future and be a witness of its marvels.

I wanted to do that too.

I always had been, I still am, a passionate student of social problems. The world of to-day with its roaring machinery, the unceasing toil of its working classes, its strife, its poverty, its war, its cruelty, appals me as I look at it. I love to think of the time that must come some day when man will have conquered nature, and the toil-worn human race enter upon an era of peace.

I loved to think of it, and I longed to see it.

So I set about the thing deliberately.

What I wanted to do was to fall asleep after the customary fashion, for two or three hundred years at least, and wake and find myself in the marvel world of the future.

I made my preparations for the sleep.

I bought all the comic papers that I could find, even the illustrated ones. I carried them up to my room in my hotel: with them I brought up a pork pie and dozens and dozens of doughnuts. I ate the pie and the doughnuts, then sat back in the bed and read the comic papers one after the other. Finally, as I felt the awful lethargy stealing upon me, I reached out my hand for the London Weekly Times, and held up the editorial page before my eye.

It was, in a way, clear, straight suicide, but I did it.

I could feel my senses leaving me. In the room across the hall there was a man singing. His voice, that had been loud, came fainter and fainter through the transom. I fell into a sleep, the deep immeasurable sleep in which the very existence of the outer world was hushed. Dimly I could feel the days go past, then the years, and then the long passage of the centuries.

Then, not as it were gradually, but quite suddenly, I woke up, sat up, and looked about me.

Where was I?

Well might I ask myself.

I found myself lying, or rather sitting up, on a broad couch. I was in a great room, dim, gloomy, and dilapidated in its general appearance, and apparently, from its glass cases and the stuffed figures that they contained, some kind of museum.

Beside me sat a man. His face was hairless, but neither old nor young. He wore clothes that looked like the grey ashes of paper that had burned and kept its shape. He was looking at me quietly, but with no particular surprise or interest.

"Quick," I said, eager to begin; "where am I? Who are you? What year is this; is it the year 3000, or what is it?"

He drew in his breath with a look of annoyance on his face.

"What a queer, excited way you have of speaking," he said.

"Tell me," I said again, "is this the year 3000?"

"I think I know what you mean," he said; "but really I haven't the faintest idea. I should think it must be at least that, within a hundred years or so; but nobody has kept track of them for so long, it's hard to say."

"Don't you keep track of them any more?" I gasped.

"We used to," said the man. "I myself can remember that a century or two ago there were still a number of people who used to try to keep track of the year, but it died out along with so many other faddish things of that kind. Why," he continued, showing for the first time a sort of animation in his talk, "what was the use of it? You see, after we eliminated death--"

"Eliminated death!" I cried, sitting upright. "Good God!"

"What was that expression you used?" queried the man.

"Good God!" I repeated.

"Ah," he said, "never heard it before. But I was saying that after we had eliminated Death, and Food, and Change, we had practically got rid of Events, and--"

"Stop!" I said, my brain reeling. "Tell me one thing at a time."

"Humph!" he ejaculated. "I see, you must have been asleep a long time. Go on then and ask questions. Only, if you don't mind, just as few as possible, and please don't get interested or excited."

Oddly enough the first question that sprang to my lips was--

"What are those clothes made of?"

"Asbestos," answered the man. "They last hundreds of years. We have one suit each, and there are billions of them piled up, if anybody wants a new one."

"Thank you," I answered. "Now tell me where I am?"

"You are in a museum. The figures in the cases are specimens like yourself. But here," he said, "if you want really to find out about what is evidently a new epoch to you, get off your platform and come out on Broadway and sit on a bench."

I got down.

As we passed through the dim and dust-covered buildings I looked curiously at the figures in the cases.

"By Jove!" I said looking at one figure in blue clothes with a belt and baton, "that's a policeman!"

"Really," said my new acquaintance, "is that what a policeman was? I've often wondered. What used they to be used for?"

"Used for?" I repeated in perplexity. "Why, they stood at the corner of the street."

"Ah, yes, I see," he said, "so as to shoot at the people. You must excuse my ignorance," he continued, "as to some of your social customs in the past. When I took my education I was operated upon for social history, but the stuff they used was very inferior."

I didn't in the least understand what the man meant, but had no time to question him, for at that moment we came out upon the street, and I stood riveted in astonishment.

Broadway! Was it possible? The change was absolutely appalling! In place of the roaring thoroughfare that I had known, this silent, moss-grown desolation! Great buildings fallen into ruin through the sheer stress of centuries of wind and weather, the sides of them coated over with a growth of fungus and moss! The place was soundless. Not a vehicle moved. There were no wires overhead--no sound of life or movement except, here and there, there passed slowly to and fro human figures dressed in the same asbestos clothes as my acquaintance, with the same hairless faces, and the same look of infinite age upon them.

Good heavens; And was this the era of the Conquest that I had hoped to see! I had always taken for granted, I do not know why, that humanity was destined to move forward. This picture of what seemed desolation on the ruins of our civilization rendered me almost speechless.

There were little benches placed here and there on the street. We sat down.

"Improved, isn't it," said man in asbestos, "since the days when you remember it?"

He seemed to speak quite proudly.

I gasped out a question.

"Where are the street cars and the motors?"

"Oh, done away with long ago," he said; "how awful they must have been. The noise of them!" and his asbestos clothes rustled with a shudder.

"But how do you get about?"

"We don't," he answered. "Why should we? It's just the same being here as being anywhere else." He looked at me with an infinity of dreariness in his face.

A thousand questions surged into my mind at once. I asked one of the simplest.

"But how do you get back and forwards to your work?"

"Work!" he said. "There isn't any work. It's finished. The last of it was all done centuries ago."

I looked at him a moment open-mouthed. Then I turned and looked again at the grey desolation of the street with the asbestos figures moving here and there.

I tried to pull my senses together. I realized that if I was to unravel this new and undreamed-of future, I must go at it systematically and step by step.

"I see," I said after a pause, "that momentous things have happened since my time. I wish you would let me ask you about it all systematically, and would explain it to me bit by bit. First, what do you mean by saying that there is no work?"

"Why," answered my strange acquaintance, "it died out of itself. Machinery killed it. If I remember rightly, you had a certain amount of machinery even in your time. You had done very well with steam, made a good beginning with electricity, though I think radial energy had hardly as yet been put to use."

I nodded assent.

"But you found it did you no good. The better your machines, the harder you worked. The more things you had the more you wanted. The pace of life grew swifter and swifter. You cried out, but it would not stop. You were all caught in the cogs of your own machine. None of you could see the end."

"That is quite true," I said. "How do you know it all?"

"Oh," answered the Man in Asbestos, "that part of my education was very well operated--I see you do not know what I mean. Never mind, I can tell you that later. Well, then, there came, probably almost two hundred years after your time, the Era of the Great Conquest of Nature, the final victory of Man and Machinery."

"They did conquer it?" I asked quickly, with a thrill of the old hope in my veins again.

"Conquered it," he said, "beat it out! Fought it to a standstill! Things came one by one, then faster and faster, in a hundred years it was all done. In fact, just as soon as mankind turned its energy to decreasing its needs instead of increasing its desires, the whole thing was easy. Chemical Food came first. Heavens! the simplicity of it. And in your time thousands of millions of people tilled and grubbed at the soil from morning till night. I've seen specimens of them--farmers, they called them. There's one in the museum. After the invention of Chemical Food we piled up enough in the emporiums in a year to last for centuries. Agriculture went overboard. Eating and all that goes with it domestic labour, housework--all ended. Nowadays one takes a concentrated pill every year or so, that's all. The whole digestive apparatus, as you knew it, was a clumsy thing that had been bloated up like a set of bagpipes through the evolution of its use!"

I could not forbear to interrupt. "Have you and these people," I said, "no stomachs--no apparatus?"

"Of course we have," he answered, "but we use it to some purpose. Mine is largely filled with my education--but there! I am anticipating again. Better let me go on as I was. Chemical Food came first: that cut off almost one-third of the work, and then came Asbestos Clothes. That was wonderful! In one year humanity made enough suits to last for ever and ever. That, of course, could never have been if it hadn't been connected with the revolt of women and the fall of Fashion."

"Have the Fashions gone," I asked, "that insane, extravagant idea of--" I was about to launch into one of my old-time harangues about the sheer vanity of decorative dress, when my eye rested on the moving figures in asbestos, and I stopped.

"All gone," said the Man in Asbestos. "Then next to that we killed, or practically killed, the changes of climate. I don't think that in your day you properly understood how much of your work was due to the shifts of what you called the weather. It meant the need of all kinds of special clothes and houses and shelters, a wilderness of work. How dreadful it must have been in your day--wind and storms, great wet masses--what did you call them?--clouds--flying through the air, the ocean full of salt, was it not?--tossed and torn by the wind, snow thrown all over everything, hail, rain--how awful!"

"Sometimes," I said, "it was very beautiful. But how did you alter it?"

"Killed the weather!" answered the Man in Asbestos. "Simple as anything--turned its forces loose one against the other, altered the composition of the sea so that the top became all more or less gelatinous. I really can't explain it, as it is an operation that I never took at school, but it made the sky grey, as you see it, and the sea gum-coloured, the weather all the same. It cut out fuel and houses and an infinity of work with them!"

He paused a moment. I began to realize something of the course of evolution that had happened.

"So," I said, "the conquest of nature meant that presently there was no more work to do?"

"Exactly," he said, "nothing left."

"Food enough for all?"

"Too much," he answered.

"Houses and clothes?"

"All you like," said the Man in Asbestos, waving his hand. "There they are. Go out and take them. Of course, they're falling down--slowly, very slowly. But they'll last for centuries yet, nobody need bother."

Then I realized, I think for the first time, just what work had meant in the old life, and how much of the texture of life itself had been bound up in the keen effort of it.

Presently my eyes looked upward: dangling at the top of a moss-grown building I saw what seemed to be the remains of telephone wires.

"What became of all that," I said, "the telegraph and the telephone and all the system of communication?"

"Ah," said the Man in Asbestos, "that was what a telephone meant, was it? I knew that it had been suppressed centuries ago. Just what was it for?"

"Why," I said with enthusiasm, "by means of the telephone we could talk to anybody, call up anybody, and talk at any distance."

"And anybody could call you up at any time and talk?" said the Man in Asbestos, with something like horror. "How awful! What a dreadful age yours was, to be sure. No, the telephone and all the rest of it, all the transportation and intercommunication was cut out and forbidden. There was no sense in it. You see," he added, "what you don't realize is that people after your day became gradually more and more reasonable. Take the railroad, what good was that? It brought into every town a lot of people from every other town. Who wanted them? Nobody. When work stopped and commerce ended, and food was needless, and the weather killed, it was foolish to move about. So it was all terminated. Anyway," he said, with a quick look of apprehension and a change in his voice, "it was dangerous!"

"So!" I said. "Dangerous! You still have danger?"

"Why, yes," he said, "there's always the danger of getting broken."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Why," said the Man in Asbestos, "I suppose it's what you would call being dead. Of course, in one sense there's been no death for centuries past; we cut that out. Disease and death were simply a matter of germs. We found them one by one. I think that even in your day you had found one or two of the easier, the bigger ones?"

I nodded.

"Yes, you had found diphtheria and typhoid and, if I am right, there were some outstanding, like scarlet fever and smallpox, that you called ultra-microscopic, and which you were still hunting for, and others that you didn't even suspect. Well, we hunted them down one by one and destroyed them. Strange that it never occurred to any of you that Old Age was only a germ! It turned out to be quite a simple one, but it was so distributed in its action that you never even thought of it."

"And you mean to say," I ejaculated in amazement, looking at the Man in Asbestos, "that nowadays you live for ever?"

"I wish," he said, "that you hadn't that peculiar, excitable way of talking; you speak as if everything mattered so tremendously. Yes," he continued, "we live for ever, unless, of course, we get broken. That happens sometimes. I mean that we may fall over a high place or bump on something, and snap ourselves. You see, we're just a little brittle still--some remnant, I suppose, of the Old Age germ--and we have to be careful. In fact," he continued, "I don't mind saying that accidents of this sort were the most distressing feature of our civilization till we took steps to cut out all accidents. We forbid all street cars, street traffic, aeroplanes, and so on. The risks of your time," he said, with a shiver of his asbestos clothes, "must have been awful."

"They were," I answered, with a new kind of pride in my generation that I had never felt before, "but we thought it part of the duty of brave people to--"

"Yes, yes," said the Man in Asbestos impatiently, "please don't get excited. I know what you mean. It was quite irrational."

We sat silent for a long time. I looked about me at the crumbling buildings, the monotone, unchanging sky, and the dreary, empty street. Here, then, was the fruit of the Conquest, here was the elimination of work, the end of hunger and of cold, the cessation of the hard struggle, the downfall of change and death--nay, the very millennium of happiness. And yet, somehow, there seemed something wrong with it all. I pondered, then I put two or three rapid questions, hardly waiting to reflect upon the answers.

"Is there any war now?"

"Done with centuries ago. They took to settling international disputes with a slot machine. After that all foreign dealings were given up. Why have them? Everybody thinks foreigners awful."

"Are there any newspapers now?"

"Newspapers! What on earth would we want them for? If we should need them at any time there are thousands of old ones piled up. But what is in them, anyway; only things that happen, wars and accidents and work and death. When these went newspapers went too. Listen," continued the Man in Asbestos, "you seem to have been something of a social reformer, and yet you don't understand the new life at all. You don't understand how completely all our burdens have disappeared. Look at it this way. How used your people to spend all the early part of their lives?"

"Why," I said, "our first fifteen years or so were spent in getting education."

"Exactly," he answered; "now notice how we improved on all that. Education in our day is done by surgery. Strange that in your time nobody realized that education was simply a surgical operation. You hadn't the sense to see that what you really did was to slowly remodel, curve and convolute the inside of the brain by a long and painful mental operation. Everything learned was reproduced in a physical difference to the brain. You knew that, but you didn't see the full consequences. Then came the invention of surgical education--the simple system of opening the side of the skull and engrafting into it a piece of prepared brain. At first, of course, they had to use, I suppose, the brains of dead people, and that was ghastly"--here the Man in Asbestos shuddered like a leaf--"but very soon they found how to make moulds that did just as well. After that it was a mere nothing; an operation of a few minutes would suffice to let in poetry or foreign languages or history or anything else that one cared to have. Here, for instance," he added, pushing back the hair at the side of his head and showing a scar beneath it, "is the mark where I had my spherical trigonometry let in. That was, I admit, rather painful, but other things, such as English poetry or history, can be inserted absolutely without the least suffering. When I think of your painful, barbarous methods of education through the ear, I shudder at it. Oddly enough, we have found lately that for a great many things there is no need to use the head. We lodge them--things like philosophy and metaphysics, and so on--in what used to be the digestive apparatus. They fill it admirably."

He paused a moment. Then went on:

"Well, then, to continue, what used to occupy your time and effort after your education?"

"Why," I said, "one had, of course, to work, and then, to tell the truth, a great part of one's time and feeling was devoted toward the other sex, toward falling in love and finding some woman to share one's life."

"Ah," said the Man in Asbestos, with real interest. "I've heard about your arrangements with the women, but never quite understood them. Tell me; you say you selected some woman?"

"Yes."

"And she became what you called your wife?"

"Yes, of course."

"And you worked for her?" asked the Man in Asbestos in astonishment.

"Yes."

"And she did not work?"

"No," I answered, "of course not."

"And half of what you had was hers?"

"Yes."

"And she had the right to live in your house and use your things?"

"Of course," I answered.

"How dreadful!" said the Man in Asbestos. "I hadn't realized the horrors of your age till now."

He sat shivering slightly, with the same timid look in his face as before.

Then it suddenly struck me that of the figures on the street, all had looked alike.

"Tell me," I said, "are there no women now? Are they gone too?"

"Oh, no," answered the Man in Asbestos, "they're here just the same. Some of those are women. Only, you see, everything has been changed now. It all came as part of their great revolt, their desire to be like the men. Had that begun in your time?"

"Only a little." I answered; "they were beginning to ask for votes and equality."

"That's it," said my acquaintance, "I couldn't think of the word. Your women, I believe, were something awful, were they not? Covered with feathers and skins and dazzling colours made of dead things all over them? And they laughed, did they not, and had foolish teeth, and at any moment they could inveigle you into one of those contracts? Ugh!"

He shuddered.

"Asbestos," I said (I knew no other name to call him), as I turned on him in wrath, "Asbestos, do you think that those jelly-bag Equalities out on the street there, with their ash-barrel suits, can be compared for one moment with our unredeemed, unreformed, heaven-created, hobble-skirted women of the twentieth century?"

Then, suddenly, another thought flashed into my mind--

"The children," I said, "where are the children? Are there any?"

"Children," he said, "no! I have never heard of there being any such things for at least a century. Horrible little hobgoblins they must have been! Great big faces, and cried constantly! And grew, did they not? Like funguses! I believe they were longer each year than they had been the last, and--"

I rose.

"Asbestos!" I said, "this, then, is your coming Civilization, your millennium. This dull, dead thing, with the work and the burden gone out of life, and with them all the joy and sweetness of it. For the old struggle mere stagnation, and in place of danger and death, the dull monotony of security and the horror of an unending decay! Give me back," I cried, and I flung wide my arms to the dull air, "the old life of danger and stress, with its hard toil and its bitter chances, and its heartbreaks. I see its value! I know its worth! Give me no rest," I cried aloud--

. . . . . . .

"Yes, but give a rest to the rest of the corridor!" cried an angered voice that broke in upon my exultation.

Suddenly my sleep had gone.

I was back again in the room of my hotel, with the hum of the wicked, busy old world all about me, and loud in my ears the voice of the indignant man across the corridor.

"Quit your blatting, you infernal blatherskite," he was calling. "Come down to earth."

I came.

[beaboutitpress]

SONG: LOS ANGELES   BAND: X     PLACE: LONG BEACH YEAR: 1980 by Peggy Morrison

What’s a song that you listen to in order to remember something? That’s what we asked our writers for this edition of Be About It zine, and we are loving the responses we got. Check out this entry from Peggy Morrison!

SONG: LOS ANGELES   BAND: X     PLACE: LONG BEACH YEAR: 1980

I had heard this other kind of music that I was attracted to because it was full of rash, urgent energy I asked this bassist I knew, Steve, where was it? Where could I hear more of it? He told me it was punk and I could hear it every week on Rodney's show; I forget the name of the radio station.   I had an upstairs apartment on the West Side of Long Beach. I met Patti through her boyfriend, Alan. She had platinum hair in a short, asymmetical cut, a swashbuckling way of walking and bold red lips. She needed to get away from her alcoholic mother and I had a two-bedroom place. Patti's friends were a gaggle of buzz-cut teenagers in kilts and leather and safety pins   Punk clubs Long Beach, downtown LA, Hollywood, Redondo Beach I was in the mosh pit jumping in time with the noise; shot tons of pushed tri-x film, published the pictures in local rags and zines and gave them to the bands for the 45 and LP covers   Went to shows or made shows happen and partied after hours I was in the Strong Silent types. We practiced obsessively in a cheap rented rehearsal space. My role was to screech, howl and hum backup choruses to Crystal's deep-voice, epic lead singing, plus, I played the flute, X's album came out: The world's a mess; it's in my kiss   Everybody knew each other. Fast-moving. never planning where to end up or when to go home, It was non-stop. We had to go out almost every night just to be there when our friends played. We were a milling herd   She had to get out, get out get out, get out   I was taking classes at CSULB to get my teaching credential and become a "citizen" -- get my first legit job. I was in the placement office of the university looking at the job advertisements. I wanted to get out of the city and be a teacher in a small town in California. In the back of the big three ring binder there was an advertisement for a teaching job in a school in Guatemala. On a reckless whim, I mailed my resume. She had to leave LOS ANGELES   and when they called to offer me the job in Guatemala, I recklessly accepted. It seemed about as far as you could get from Long Beach, about 3000 miles They sent my plane ticket She found it hard to say goodbye to her own best friend It felt strange it felt strange. It felt sad In Guatemala City, en la zona 9, I would go out of the house at night and walk around in the silence, not knowing what to do with myself, missing the city, missing LA, with Exene and John's dissonant voices ringing in my head   She gets confused 'Cause the days change at night Change in an instant   She had to leave it felt strange it felt sad it felt sad

- Peggy Morrison

Name: Peggy Morrison

Location: Ohlone land, AKA Alameda, CA

Favorite sad song: Never Mind by Nancy Griffin  

Brief Bio:

Peggy Morrison is a California writer who lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area, enjoying its creative and fertile literary community.  Her poetry has been published in Cloud Woman Quarterly, riverbabble, Poecology, Let the World Wonder, Naked Bulb Anthology, Day Without Art,  DoorKnobs & BodyPaint. She was honored to be part of the United States delegation to the CubaPoesia International Poetry Festival in La Habana in 2017. Peggy is the author of one book of poetry: Mom Says (2020, https://www.amazon.com/dp/1657735192). Along with poetry Peggy is a mom who loves reading, teaching, gardening, music, and backpacking. And she is a bilingual teacher committed to working for social justice.